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sleepy-grav3 · 5 months ago

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The Moon Child Part 2

Part 1

A/n: Wow. I posted the first part to this and you guys like- rushed to it like starving animals holy SHIT... Should I be scared???? anyway- here ya go

Summary: Danny meets the Aqua Family and gets the love he deserves, plus a little comfort.

Tw: hurt/comfort, bad parents, mentioned discrimination, angst, ghost animal cruelty, swears, objectification, fluff

I forgot to mention Danny goes by he/they pronouns, Atlanteans know a lot of animals, and gender is weird sometimes so they aren't assuming anything and that's fair since Danny could shapeshift if he wants

The Moon Child Part 2 - The Moon Loves the Sea

Warm. He felt warm while in his core. And he could feel the soft cushion he was placed on. He heard the stories that Aquaman Arthur would tell him about all of his adventures and the rambles about his family. He was even told the secret about his stepbrother, Orm, who's death was faked and now lived on land.

It was... nice. Safe. He hadn't felt so loved in a long time. Or, at least, he thinks he hasn't. He had lost track of time while in the labs. It was painful to think about. Visibly so. Apparently, when he drifted into those dreadful terrors, his core's soft light would flicker into a dimmer one which resonated with his sobs. Arthur or his wife, who would keep him beside them at all times, would pick him up each time and hold him close to their heart.

"It's alright" They would say. "You're safe now."

Their heartbeat would always calm him down. It pulsed out reassuring feelings with each beat of their hearts. It was soothing and he never felt so safe. Not even when he was alive. To think he needed to die to feel this way.

It took a while for the pain to finally go away, but he soon felt ready to come out of his core. He couldn't recuperate as much as he wanted to. Not to use his full abilities of his ghost powers. No, there wasn't a massive supply of ambient ectoplasm like in Amity. He learned that what he was absorbing the most was the magic, which acted as a saline solution to blood (which he was pretty sure his blood was fully ectoplasm now).

It was interesting how magic tied in with ectoplasm. He wondered if that's why summoning worked best for those in the realms for that reason. Maybe the specific rituals to summon them even tied closely with their ecto-signatures? It's an interesting thought really.

That isn't the point though. What is, is that he was healthy enough to come out of his core.

"Ok, Danny. Deep breath. Here we go-"

Arthur was doing his usual thing: struggling to wake up in the morning and only really doing it because he didn't want to worry the literal spirit of a god. And it's not even because they're a god, but because they're a child. Should he have kept them in the same room. He feels like that might've been a better choice than just leaving them in a room next to his.

Arthur shook his head, rubbing his eyes as he swung his legs over the edge only to jump at the cold feeling of the floor.

"All kinds of water magic and they still can't stop the floor from being cold."

He huffed, getting up and picking out some casual wear that didn't have a bunch of jewelry with protection runes. Some normal clothes to hang out with family.

Kaldur came back yesterday, so they're having breakfast together. He hoped that he'd believe the whole moon deity thing. Kaldur was pretty good and believing new things, but this was their main religion they're talking about. Religion is iffy, or at least it was for those on land. The ocean folk are... extremely loyal.

Should he worry about them trying to destroy the new moon...?

He shook his head. No, they probably couldn't get past the layers of the atmosphere. Hopefully.

He walked out of the door, now thinking about how sea creatures would even pull that off before knocking on the door of the room next to his.

"It is uh, me. Again." It never sounds less awkward. Maybe I should try adding the dramatics?

And with a twist and push, he opened the door only to freeze with widening eyes. The stone wasn't there.

"Oh my god- I lost-"

Only to hear a chirp. he flinched, attention darting over to the full body mirror on the other side of the door that pushed into the room. A door he was going to have fixed to avoid heart attacks like these.

He let out a huge sigh of relief, walking over and bending down with a crooked grin.

"Well, good morning. I didn't expect you to appear for a while. But hey! Perfect timing! Kaldur's going to be joining us during breakfast today, so we could introduce you guys! We could meet Orm soon too! I bet he'll be absolutely surprised!"

The child only looked at him with their big wide doe eyes. Hope sparked in them, but anxiety kept their body tense.

"You... You were serious about it? About me meeting your family?"

Arthur placed a hand on their shoulder, he could barely notice the cool temperature of their body before he saw them jump. He was going to pull away his hand, but then the child relaxed a bit more. It was as if they hadn't had affectionate physical contact in a long time.

"Have they ever been anything but a moon? Are all moons like this? What about other planets? Earth... we have so much pollution. If it were alive..., would it only just barely be clinging?"

"Yes, I was and still am. You're a part of it now for as long as we live. And even when we pass, you will continue to have a place in the ocean. You might not have realized this, but the ocean worships you like a god. In fact, I think I'm going to have to talk with the Justice League about offering an apology gift of some sort."

The child blinked, eyes wide and glistening as a layer of moisture sparkled more yet made the eye look foggy. Looking closer, Arthur could see how moonstones came to be when they cried. It would hurt if it was a literal stone the kid cried. Like- like kidney stones! He was thankful that it wasn't like that.

"You... You aren't scared of me being dangerous to them? You don't think I'm evil or non-sentient?"

Arthur blinked. What?

"No... Nobody- Why would anybody think that?"

The child pursed his lips into a thin line, averting his eyes. With each blink, a silvery white liquid would start to drip and condense to the moonstones he found.

"I... don't know how things work around here... But on land... I've... They don't respect the dead or those associated to the concept. I've tried to keep both sides from trying to destroy the other- but... but..."

Arthur took a breath, pulling the spirit into his arms into a tight embrace. They clung to their veil that was wrapped around their arms like a shawl.

It seems that he had some lore to read up upon and some things to investigate.

(This bit's about Danny's POV. It'll be continuing with his while he meets everyone)

Danny didn't know what to think when he looked at himself in the mirror earlier. He didn't have a shirt, but the scarf thing was comfy. He could make it into some kind of make-shift shirt if he wanted to too. His memory on how to do it was... foggy and fractured. Some parts of speech were muffled and what he saw from that time would blur or seemed made up.

He knew the person teaching him.

Why can't he remember them clearly? He could hear whispers of something in his head telling him who that was.

And when he pushed that thought aside, he'd look back at other memories and realize who that was.

Tucker. How could he ever forget about Tucker? Why was he forgetting him?

What made it worse was how much he had to stare at the damn mirror to get the knots right. His chest... it wasn't ever that clean. No Lichtenberg scars. No burns, no cuts, no incision scars. Nothing. It was clean of any of his failures. His struggles. His learning experiences.

And yet... he still imagined them being there. Each time his fingers would brush up against places where he knew scars should've been, a shot of pain would spike as if he'd been electrocuted.

It hurt.

He hated how he remembered.

He hated that he didn't.

He used to remember all of it. He did when he was sobbing for days on end.

Now, it was foggy. Now, it was hidden away. He couldn't reach it.

"Oh my god- I lost-"

He chirped in surprise, turning with widened eyes. Oh. It's just Arthur. I really need to get out of my head.

Arthur walked over, looking slightly drained, as if he was relieved of a sudden weight placed on his shoulders. And by the vibes, Danny's guess seemed right.

Relieved Happy Happy Excited Nervous Happy

He was always so cheery in the... well, what seemed to be the day. Sucks to be out now that he thought about it. It would be rude to just fall asleep at random now that they could physically see if he's awake or not.

Arthur greeted him warmly, cheerily saying how he didn't expect him to come out of his core as if the event was a surprise gift. That... was confusing to say the least. It's easier to have a pet rock than a guest. Now he has to feed him to be polite, or at least offer. He has the room covered since the beginning. It was a really big room. A waste for something someone like him.

He felt his body freeze and start muffling sounds when Arthur started mentioning Kaldur and Orm. His family. Close ones, from the stories he would tell.

M4Dd13 and J4Ck would never allow strangers near him, much less Jazz.

"You... You aren't scared of me being dangerous to them?" He couldn't stop the questions from slipping out even when his expression shifted. "You don't think I'm evil or non-sentient?"

He doesn't even know how he could even think of himself as otherwise. He could remember the custom-made, high voltage tasers that targets his ecto-signature itself until he acted how they expected him to. How they wanted him to.

His eyesight became extremely cloudy. It was similar to the green he'd see before he would start crying after he couldn't cry water anymore.

Ghosts... Ghosts cry ectoplasm. What... What was he crying? What is he now? He was- Why wasn't he gone? He was Ended, wasn't he? They got rid of his heart and crushed his core to determine the durability- there wasn't a way to come back from that.

So why was he alive?

Why can't he-

"-think that?"

Shit- he wasn't paying attention.

Danny couldn't bare to look at the man, guilt eating away at him.

"I... don't know how things work around here..."

He could barely register that it was his voice.

"But on land... I've..."

Why was he still touching his shoulder?

Why isn't he disgusted?

Why isn't he scared?

Why isn't he angry?

"They don't respect the dead or those associated to the concept. I've tried to keep both sides from trying to destroy the other- but... but..."

But they destroyed me instead.

It was all for nothing.

Why didn't he listen to the Ancients?

Why did he just kill people?

They already expected him to do so anyway.

So why didn't he?

He couldn't feel the hug he was pulled into until he stopped crying.

What was he even crying about?

Ok so- Maybe Danny should start scheduling his breakdowns. So far, he's had ones at random or ones that goes on for multiple days without any stopping. Or- if he did stop, he really doesn't remember them.

But this is getting embarrassing. He was lucky Kaldur came home late or else they might've either came late or completely missed the breakfast reunion.

Ugh- and don't get him started with anxiety.

His eyes must be puffy or something. Great first impression, Danny! All ya gotta do now is cry again in front of everyone to make it one of the worst introductions in life.

Well, it wasn't really a good start even without him. Arthur had just dropped him onto a very cushiony chair and exclaimed: "Thank the seas! I'm starving!" And just went to devour a whole plate before calming down a bit with Mera scolding him.

He was just awkwardly watching until a plate was placed in front of him. He slightly tensed, attention going from his plate to the hand pulling away from the plate now that it was down. That's when his eyes made contact with Kaldur's. He seemed a bit startled to, as he blinked owlishly before smiling politely.

"Hello, I'm Kaldur'Ahm. You may call me Kaldur."

"U-um.. I'm..." What should he be called now? Phantom didn't feel as right anymore. Ah, what the heck. It's not like they know little ol' Danny Fenton. "I'm Danny." For some reason, that name didn't feel too right either.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard that you've been in a stone, so I was surprised to see you carried in by fa- Arthur."

Curious Happy Happy Nervous

Danny relaxed a bit, turning to his plate once eye contact became too difficult. He picked at his food

"I didn't have much strength when I first formed. I wasn't meant to even have a body but I... didn't want to be discovered and have my core cut up and carved into for some jewelry or something, so I forced myself. you could say it's like... an energy conservation form."

Danny started to actually eat his food, though a bit quicker than he usually would. Stress eating, how lovely.

"Is it a lot of work to stay as you are now? You don't have to stay like this if you're too drained." Kaldur started to fret for him, looking for any sign of strain.

Danny, feeling the worry from him, smiled. It's been a while since someone was worried for him.

"I recovered enough energy that I have a bit extra. I can't do a lot of the things I could before, but I don't feel any pain anymore. So, I'll be fine."

Kaldur relaxed a bit, though still held a slight frown.

"Tell me if you ever feel anything. I'm more than able to hold onto your core and protect you."

Danny hummed, continuing to eat. That's about the time Kaldur remembered that it was breakfast time and started- no, continued to eat from his plate. He must've served himself when Arthur started to or even before that.

"Hey hey hey! Now that the kid's awake, why don't we take a family trip toooooooooo" He dragged out the word as Mera glared at him. "-my brother's grave! I bet he'd love to meet you! And on the way, we can go to the burger place and shop for some clothes, meet my dad-"

Danny looked over at Kaldur, who shook his head fondly at his obvious father-figure. Really, that slip up wasn't getting past him, no way, not possible.

"Don't mind him." Mera sighed. "He's an idiot."

"Hey!"

"Danny, you could always say no. We could go a different day." Kaldur mentioned.

"Danny?" Arthur questioned. Mera rolled her eyes.

"Pay attention, will you?"

"No, it's fine." Danny shook his head with a nervous smile. "I'd like to see him too."

"GREAT!" Arthur exclaimed, making Danny jump and Kaldur wince at the volume. "Hurry and finish your meals! I'll call over the pups!" and then he ran off.

"Pups?" Danny asked.

"Sharks." Mera clarified with a fond sigh. "Ever since he heard someone call them sea puppies, he's been calling them pups and puppies ever since."

"That's... really cute actually." Danny snickered.

"He sneaks away to play with them all the time." Kaldur groaned, remembering the number of meetings he had to take over for the man.

Danny reached over and patted Kaldur's forearm.

"You poor child."

"At least you understand."

Kaldur... well, Danny didn't really know how to put it. He was really nice and all, but he was a bit...

"These earrings would look great on you." Kaldur hummed as he held up dangling pearls to his ears.

Kaldur's already bought 3 bags of stuff for him in the last 20 minutes since coming to Reef Town (completely made-up place, just go with it). He even had to adjust his ghost clothes so he could wear the pants and shirt, and other stuff that were bought for him. He still kept the veil since it was really soft and soothed him when he rubbed it between his fingers.

"Ah, but this goes with your clothing... Perhaps we should order one to be made in Atlantis?" Kaldur trailed off, mumbling about different shops and what materials they had along with design names Danny had no clue about. He was almost sure that some of those words were made-up with how they sounded.

"Oookaaayyy- how about we think this over later?" Arthur insisted, a hand on Kaldur's shoulder and the other taking away the earrings in his hands. "We have someone to meet in... about 5 minutes."

"Right, sorry! I got distracted-"

"You're fine, you little urchin." Arthur chuckled, pushing Kaldur towards the door. "Now let's go meet Orm!"

Danny felt a hand on his head. It was a gentle, motherly touch. It nearly made his core let out a purr. Only Jazz could do that with touch alone. Though he nearly started to do the same when they'd mark where they'd cut next. They didn't do that as often with how much they liked to see his organs and bones regenerate.

"Tell Kaldur if it's too much. He's just really excited to have you around and is used to having to give something to keep sea creature friends around."

Ah, he knew that voice.

"Ex..cited? Why?" Danny looked up at Mera, leaning into her touch.

Mera smiled down sweetly at him; her eyes were filled with love that would be pointed to her own child.

She didn't have that drunken lust M4Dd13 had in her eyes each time she came back.

It made his core flutter.

"He sees you as a younger sibling. He's wanted one for a little while now. I... I can't get myself to try again, so he didn't expect to have a sibling. He was really excited to meet you after he heard that you agreed to stay with Arthur. You didn't reject my touch either. I hope it was fine that I held your... core, was it?"

Danny felt her finger card through his hair. He melted at the soothing touch.

"Yeah. It's... it's everything to a ghost. Heart and soul. And... I heard about you from Arthur while I was in my core. And you were the reason Arthur knew to comfort me. So, I knew I could trust you."

Mera smiled a bit more brightly and knelt down, hands holding his face with all the love in the world before she placed a kiss on his forehead.

"I'm glad. Now, let's go catch up with the boys. I'm sure Kaldur and Arthur must be panicking."

Danny could barely follow after her, having to make himself float as she grabbed his hand to lead him outside. Everything was too fuzzy and happy; it was hard to focus.

"Did you kidnap a child spirit?!"

That was the first thing Orm said when he saw Danny, immediately looking at Arthur incredulously as he slammed the table with his hands.

He immediately walked over and knelt down in front of Danny.

"I am so sorry about him-"

"Hey! I didn't-"

"-he's an idiot and really doesn't know any better."

"I didn't kidnap him!"

Orm arched a brow at his brother before looking over at Mera.

"No contracts were made."

Orm looked back at Danny.

"You went with him willingly?"

Danny snickered. "He looked like an idiot."

"You too?!"

"You really can't blame him." Kaldur agreed, smiling over at Danny.

Danny giggled and looked back at Orm.

"I'm Danny."

"Orm, that idiot's older brother. Stepbrother. Now, why did a saintly spirit decide to tag along with this family?"

Mera walked over, placing a hand on Danny's head again. He leaned into it, barely able to keep in a purr.

"You remember the incident with the moon?" Orm nodded. "Well, they're the spirit of the moon."

Orm's eyes widened, head snapping right back to Danny.

"You- you're-"

Danny blinked. He's a what? Wait, not the time to dissociate-

"Is... Is that bad?" Danny hesitantly asked.

"No! Not at all- I just- I've always believed in you, it's just that- Seeing an idol is a bit of an experience-"

"An idol?" Danny questioned, looking up at Orm. He was still kneeling, doesn't that hurt?

"Well, I've heard stories about how you'd battle against the sun gods and sent blessed rain to heal those under incurable plagues. That you split your own soul to assist physically on this world to help those that roamed on it! I've traveled to different places on the land just to see your descendants. And what beautiful white features they have. Did you know that humans call them albinos?"

"Really?"

"Yes! They deserve a better name that fits the position of blessed descendants! The fools!"

"I-it's fine, really! I'm glad they're doing ok and- and that my blessing still lives on."

Orm sighed and stood up.

"You're much too kind. Even after they replaced you, you don't hold it against anyone."

Oddly enough, he felt his chest tighten. It was as if...

"Someone has to do my job in controlling the currents, right?" Danny smiled sadly.

The others seemed to feel sympathy for the spirit, Kaldur going over and pulling him into a hug.

"It's alright. The ocean will stand by your side. Forever. They still worship you even now. So don't think you were only a tool, ok?"

Danny nodded. "Ok.."

He fought back against the tears.

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A/n: well, that was a bit longer than the last one. I was planning to write more for this chapter, but I'll just add it to the next one. Sorry if it seems a bit stiff, it'll be better eventually... hopefully.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed.

#dc x dp #danny phantom #de aged danny #moon spirit! danny #aquaman #kaldur'ahm #justice league

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faeryarchives · 5 months ago

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catch me (diasomnia x gn!reader)

requested by anon: hi, hopefully your request still open! can i request for diasomnia? where the boys kabedon mc, resulting them blushing so hard then the physical closeness enough to make mc pass out there. yeah it's kinda romantic and crack in the same time. note: delayed bc my bed broke haha (loose screw) + i got sick... requests are still not open this is a request from long time ago 😓 yuu and reader are different ppl! u have no idea how i love this (made sebek's part kinda angsty idk) 🤍 !! recent works: hey chat (first years x gn!streamer yuu!) divider credits to @cafekitsune !! her works are so pretty real 🤍

-‘๑’- malleus draconia (3rd year ramshackle dorm leader - beanfest)

'it seems like i am on the farmer's team this year. how about you, treasure?' your eyes landed on your dorm mates chilling in the lounge - eyes sparkling in unknown excitement. "what team did you and grim got assigned to?" "oh, (name)-senpai! we got assigned to the farmers team!" a shiver ran down yuu's spine after a smirk plays around the edges of your mouth. "(name)-senpai?" "that means i'll be on the monster team, huh? good luck tomorrow!" "wait, we are going up against you?!"

the survival of the beanest - the event that most students are waiting for while some of them loathes it

given that you, grim and yuu are the only members of your dorm, it was natural for you to be opposing teams -> leading you to face off against your lover, thee malleus draconia

its not often you would be on opposite sides in anything after all

after the orientation about the rules, students started to group according to their teams leaving you and malleus alone together. the fae had the most dejected everyone ever seen. he slowly took your hand in his, holding it tightly as if he doesn't want you to go to the other side. "what a shame, we could've bond over this." "you silly fae, who said we couldn't bond over this?" in a blink of an eye, malleus found himself being hugged. as if waiting for this moment, the soothing wind picked up scent of fresh lavender invaded his senses, reviving his spirits - as malleus watch you bury your face to his shoulder. before he could wrap his arms around your frame - you pulled away, grinning. "let's have fun, yeah?" "heheh, it seems i won’t be bored today."

not being able to get even a good luck kiss from you made the diasomnia leader a menace because he will lock his target for real and he will make sure he finds his target (ok this going the wrong way)

while the farmers' team looked formidable having most of the housewardens, it couldn't be denied that the monster team have the athletic and agile members - including you

you were pretty confident in your skills really and having to plan with azul and the others really gave you more confidence and boost so it will probably go well!

"there are so many players who got eliminated immediately huh?" after eliminating more than enough players, you and lilia start to scurry through the woods, you see players of opposite teams now leaning on trees looking defeated and exhausted. "well that is because all the youngsters are thrilled to let out their fun!" chimed lilia as he float next to you, his laughing smile was a clear sign of his amusement that made you a little wary. "so, i heard someone challenged our malleus to a little game. i wonder who might that be?" "hahaha how silly, who would challenge mal anyway?" the fae stared at you for a solid minute before smiling ever so eerily. the two of you exchange no more words, only hearing the rustling of wind as you run - that is until a shadow jumped right in front of you, almost bumping into it if it weren't for your reflexes. "holy-" "... good luck little bat." in an instant, lilia vanished, leaving you with the diasomnia leader. one look at him and his devilish smile was a charming mask for his mischief. "i found you."

from the start it was already hopeless to think you would be able to take him down, so you resorted to one thing - playing a game of tag

and the other students didn't even dare to step close to you because holy moly, malleus was beaming!

you don't know how long you were running for. one minute? five minutes? thirty? it felt like you already ran through the whole campus yet malleus doesn't make any move to capture you- or so you thought. "come on, treasure. don't strain yourself." you could feel him just right behind you, his deep voice ringing in your ear and sending shivers throughout your body. "this wasn't supposed to go this way- ah!" turning around, you see malleus face very close to yours causing you to trip over a large tree root and your hand grabbing the nearest one next to you - which is malleus as you both fell to the grassy ground with a loud thud near your ears. head throbbing from the fall, eyes squinting as the sunlight decided to shine on you at the moment. "... lright, (name)?" you could barely make out the voice calling out your name and after a solid minute, you finally regain your senses. "malleus?" (eye color) eyes locked onto bright green eyes blinking rapidly as malleus panic, but that was the least of your concern. because all you know right now is that you are under the fae - his arms and legs caging you in, you can barely even move! one of his hand is on your cheek, caressing it ever so gently like you were made out of glass. what set the alarm go off in your head is the non existing distance between your faces, noses are almost touching and lips one inch away from another. "are you alright, my treasure? did you hit your head hard? shall i burn the ground?" before anything else, malleus heard you mumble something inaudible, confused as why you start to cover your face with your hands. nevertheless, wanting to prioritize your being over anything, malleus leaned in closer, eyebrows furrowed as he gently pry off your hand over your face. "can you repeat that again...?" his voice grew softer and softer as he finally put the pieces together after seeing your cheeks blossomed like a flower over the years, even your ears were burning red. "...i surrender." "so i win?" ever so curious, the fae decided to lean in more - casually rubbing his nose with yours so casually causing you to blow a fuse.

while your group won in the end, i think we all know who the real winner is 😊

-‘๑’- lilia vanrouge (3rd year ramshackle dorm leader- stitch tropical turbulence)

right now, you don't know why a little blue ball of sunshine named stitch is clinging onto your shoulder, comforting you.

honestly you don't know how you got dragged into the whole mess. you even rarely go to the library!

if anything it is crazy that you got teleported in another dimension on the day you decided to read some books in the library (like literally staying inside)

just as you were about to go to the other side of the library, you find yourself following the familiar sound of your friends chatting away. walking right at the corner, familiar faces filled your vision. "woah, what are you all doing here? this is an unusual big group." "dorm leader, what are you doing here? you don't come to the library often." "nothing, just a change of pace for today. i just feel like doing it." "oh, little bat!" a blur of black and green rush suddenly rush in and tackling you into a hug that you reciprocated without batting an eye, which to everyone's surprise. "hello to you too, lils. what are you up to?" running through his hair affectionately, the fae started to share what they previously talked about before you arrive. "i miss you." "lils, we just saw each other like two hours ago." as if your words just entered one ear and exited the other, lilia wrapped his arms around you tighter, burying his face into your shoulder. "mrah?! what's going on? it's so bright?!" and being lost in your own world, you didn't notice how grim and floyd proceed to open the book - engulfing your group in a bright light. and that is how you find yourself alone in the island.

for some reason, the book wanted you to be separated from the group - waking up with small blue little guy next to you, shaking you awake

you didn't know when and how long you were out for but you are pretty sure you are alone - except for the owner of the soft small paws patting all over your face. eyes fluttering open, you find yourself face to face with a blue... koala? "...huh? what-" from the corner of your eye, you see a large figure pointing something at your direction - emitting a laser which is surely going to hit if it weren't for you rolling out of the way. "what was that for?! are you alright?" you scanned through the koala for any injury, its curious eyes watching you carefully. "another one of those humans? never mind that, give me experiment 626 this moment." the mysterious being slowly made its way to you, loud thud following with each step. "you mean this little fella...?" your blue furry friend was hiding behind you, snarling - arms multiplying?! but the thing that caught your eye is the charm hanging around his neck because it's the one you made for lilia not too long ago. "lilia's charm..." as if hearing a familiar name, 626 immediately perked up as if realizing something. "stitch is friend! not enemy!" it garbled, waving his arms in the air trying to prove its innocence. "lilia gave stitch necklace!"stitch thought that you might not understand but to his surprise - you quickly stood up on your feet and started to run away from gantu. "you are making a big mistake, human! that is no ordinary creature - 626 could destroy anything its path!" you looked over your shoulder, and stitch could see your eyes sparkling with mischief and curiosity. "sorry but no way i am trusting you over my lover. let's go stitch!"

it became a game of hide and seek and actually having stitch as your company wasn't bad + he even helped you to reunite with your friends who somehow came into the island a day before you

surprisingly lilia was nowhere to be seen, others saying he went out to explore so you ventured the island once more

having to explore with no interference like robots attacking you or even gantu pointing his laser gun, you finally get to enjoy the island's beauty. blanket of golden sands, palm trees swaying gently, hearing the waves lapping at the shore and the taste of salt on your lips- everything was just so refreshing. "... i wanted to spend this moment with lilia too." you muttering dejectedly, feeling lonely due to the absence of your favorite bat fae. with your mind wandering somewhere else and mindlessly kicking through the fine sand, you failed to notice how someone creeping up behind you. noticing the presence a little too late, a faint whisper drifts through the air, seeming to come from everywhere at once. a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your waist "it seems like the wind guided my way to you." you yelped, pulling and jumping away to glare at the floating lilia, who is now giggling and flying circles around you. "lilia! you scared me!" "that was but a little surprise, my love. i missed you too." seeing how you stomp your foot on the ground, lilia descended from the air to stand in front of you, poking your cheeks playfully. "forgive me please?" still feeling a little embarrassed, you refused to look at him in the eyes and turned the other way. but the ever so persistent vice dorm leader of diasomnia refuse to back down. he took small steps towards to which you respond by taking small steps backward until you find yourself backed up on a tree. 'oh fuck.' as if reading your mind, lilia didn't even give you time to escape by slapping his hand on to the tree behind, trapping you in. "(nickname), can you forgive me?" "..." "love?" "(name) (last name)." his other hand caressing your cheek so fondly as he turn your head to look at him. his eyes widening in surprise seeing your face turned into shade of beet red, eyes looking everywhere interesting other than him. seeing you all embarrassed made him tease you even more, leaning in even more until your foreheads are touching "please?" as if imitating an oven, lilia watched your completely turn red and smoke coming off you. the next thing he knew, you fainted in his arms, your eyes spiraling. "...oops."

there were questions lingering in the air when lilia returned to the bungalow with you fainted in his arms, but that is for another time.

-‘๑’- sebek zigvolt (yuu's twin - phantom bride)

while everyone got to have an audience with eliza, they expected that they would be following the plan flawlessly because surely there are nothing that can ruin the flow. until they utterly failed in wooing the lady. you shocked them even more by walking so freely in the venue, waving at them with sheepish grin on your face. "well if this isn't awkward!" "(name) how did you get caught too?!" "oh, that is a good question..." sebek could feel his inside sour as he watch eliza wrap her arms around you in an oh so gleeful way - the nerve! even sebek himself doesn't have the courage to do the same thing! "oh my dear friend, you really came!" "but of course! i don't really have a choice..."

well apparently eliza took you too to be her best friend to the wedding - you were at the wrong place at the wrong time and you fit her requirements!

you could run anytime you want but leaving your gaming buddy alone was too cruel, especially when he is begging for his life for you to stay 😭

"... are you guys still there?" asking something so obvious to the all frozen students who got slapped by the bride made them look at you as if you were a lunatic. "what do you think, (name)?" "not my fault you guys decided to make it a competition..." mumbling that last part loud enough to tease vil and leona while sending rest of them an apologetic stare - you turn your attention to the next candidate for eliza, which is sebek. questions start to run though your mind after sharing an eye contact with your lover - trying to talk through nonverbal cues only for him to get the wrong idea. seeing how he pumped his fist was a bad omen already. "he is going to be one of us, isn't he?" a chorUs of agreement rang out from the eliminated squad, watching as their soon to be companion approach the ghost bride. "what is your name?" "MY NAME IS SEBEK ZIGVOLT!" the bride stopped, as if sensing something in the air, wondering why this man in front of her looked determined even though his friends are now her captives. nevertheless she went on with the audience. "how would you know if you are in love and how would you love someone?" usually, everyone would expect sebek to burst into a ranting fit about love and how will it be related to malleus and waited for a minute, then five minutes then another but they were only met with silence. "... you wish to ask me questions about love, ghost?" sebek carefully asked eliza, disbelief written all over his face as the bride nodded yes to his question. "he is going to fail this one." leona yawned, just wanting everything to be over with. sebek slowly blinked his eyes, arms crossing in front of his chest as he drown himself in his own thoughts. "...you wouldn't know immediately if you are in love, it will just sink in your mind on a random day that maybe you treat someone a little more special than others. that you can't really see a future where they are not there." his words trailing off. "and how would you love someone? that is a stupid question." sebek glanced at your direction and it felt ike he was saying it to you rather than eliza. "just give it your all. and love unconditionally. it doesn't matter if you are the most powerful ruler, the richest man or just a normal person in the world. if both of you knew you share the same feelings - everything will just click in place." no one dared to speak after sebek's speech as he rendered everyone at loss of words. eliza knew everything was perfect, his answers were good but why does it feel like- "those are not for me." she then turn to look at you, gaze softening at the realization. "you're out." eliza hesitantly raised her hand, ready to strike when you suddenly ran past the two - but not without grabbing sebek's hand. "sorry eliza, this one is off limits."

you sweatdropped after hearing your friends screaming you name

maybe it's the short time that you get to know eliza helped you to gain her trust even just a bit as you noticed how there weren't any ghost soldiers following behind as you stopped running at the hallway.

not to be that person but crowley can find other people to resolve this issue, not just passing responsibilities to children.

the only thing you need to do is to get to your sibling safely - right?

"what were you doing back there (name)? it could be dangerous for you!" shocked from the volume of his voice, you jumped while holding your still linked hands together close to your chest. if sebek didn't look worried back there, he was certainly playing the part even more now. "sebek, the whole campus is filled with ghosts." "and i was looking for you the whole day! you weren't even answering your phone, your sibling didn't have any idea either!" you didn't know how you backed up into the wall but now you have nowhere to go. sebek was zooming in without him noticing. "do you know how worried i was? i thought you vanished into thin air!" "love, we can-" the unexpected then happened, sebek slammed his hand to the wall right next to your head and buried his head into the crook of your shoulder, giving your jaw small kisses. "don't do that again, please. at least give me a heads up first..." stuck in the same position for a few minutes, sebek was starting to get worried when you fell all silent on him causing him to peek at your face only to see you overheating on the spot. "(NICKNAME)?" "i'm fine..." "you are not fine at all!"

-‘๑’- silver (2nd year ramshackle dorm student - white rabbit fest)

being able to visit one of your dorm mate's friends was incredible - never would you imagine that you would be joining the white rabbit fest with your lover, silver!

he was the one who actually invited you, which was rare because you were often the one who plan for the date

it was a saturday morning, with all your pending tasks and reports finished - you finally had the time to laze and goof around. a perfect day just to lie and watch your favorite series until a knock from the dorm's entrance rang out through the empty building. "huh, yuu and grim wouldn't probably knock at their own dormitory... must be ace and deuce." you stared at the open space, debating if you should succumb to your laziness and ignore the person on the door or stand up and see who it is.

" i'm too lazy to stand up." groaning, you buried your head into your pillow and waiting for the person to go away. "(name) are you inside?" ears perking up, body moving before your brain could process, you find yourself right in front of the ramshackle's door within thirty seconds and tackling your boyfriend into a big hug. "silver! what are you doing here? come in!" leading the knight inside, you both find yourselves in the lounge with your head on his lap and your hands playing with his. "i wanted to ask if you could come with me to the queendom of hearts and celebrate the white rabbit festival." hearing that made you froze in the spot. "(name)?" "is that a date i hear?" "i heard there are good dating spots there-" "SAY NO MORE!"

no was not really an option because its a great opportunity! heck, you even planned a whole itinerary on the outing

researching about deuce place makes you feel like you know his hometown more than himself.

when the day finally came you were so thrilled and overjoyed especially when everyone changed into their rabbit costume thanks to deuce's mom

"aww, yuu looks like a lost child in that suit." while waiting for the others to finish changing, you teased your prefect and bumped their nose playfully with your finger. "hey that is not nice at all! i am so telling silver." yuu grumbled, fixing their hat to hide their face from you, grumbling something inaudible. at the mention of the knight, you scanned the area and not one silver hair was found in sight. "where is silver? if i recall, he was the first one to change clothes..." "(name) i am right behind you." when you turned around to face the sound of the voice, your eyes lightened up like christmas lights on christmas day seeing silver looking very dashing and cute in his suit. "i need to send this to lilia, you look so good!" "(nickname), you look great too, as always. you are really perfect in everything." yuu laughed when you finally fell silent and tears started to roll down your face, making silver suddenly go to panic mode. "you can't just say that to me silver-!" "sorry, i love you." "i hate my life as a third wheel. where is grim when you needed him the most." yuu muttered bitterly.

exploring the town and everything it has to offer, it was no surprise that you were having the time of your life.

especially when silver youd pull you to the side and give you the things he not iced that you were looking at while walking - even got you both a matching pocket watch clock 🥹

but it couldn't be denied where you will eventually get unwanted attention

while the first year group went to try out some rides that ortho found nearby, you and silver finally got to spend your time alone together - that is until something caught his eye that prompt him to stand up and leave for a moment. turns out there were eyes waiting at the right time to do their plan. one by one the group of strangers made their way towards you "are you all alone?" they waited for a response or even a reaction from you but to no avail because your eyes and attention were stuck onto your phone. "hey, do you ignore us!" "people like you really ruins my day." this seemed to set off a wave of irk mark among the men. there were other people around the area but we all know no one really wants got get involve in a battle where you are fighting just to lose your honor in the end but these guys were persistent. "come on, it's not that b-" the man tried to reach out to you and just when you were about to leave and meet at another place with silver- a hand shot through between the tiny space, a loud thud of metal ringing as silver put his arm in the way, shielding you from those guys and stared deep into their souls. "i believe they said they are fine." silver turned his attention to you close and gave you a small kiss on the cheek. "were they bothering you, my love?" "... i'm alright! i could kick their ass anytime anyway!" seeing how you got absorbed in your own worlds, the strangers took it as a sign and leave without even looking back. "(name), are you alright?" turning his head back to look at you, silver was taken aback when he saw literal smoke coming out of your head and your face radiates heat at this point. to make it even worse - silver leaned in closer making your foreheads touch each other. "(name), you are burning up! we need to get some help from ortho!" "i don't think ortho can save my heart from this..." and if it wasn't enough, silver kept you really close to him - arm to arm, hand in hand and noses almost touching. one more inch and silver would surely kiss you on acc-. a child no older than 6 bumped into silver's legs causing him to close the deal and kiss you accidentally. "oof, sorry about that!" *1, 2 ,3 WARNING WARNING! (AME) SYSTEM SHUTTING DOWN!* "my love!" and that was the final straw and your last memory before fainting was silver carrying you in his arms. so cute, he is not even a knight in shining armor but a rabbit knight. BEST DATE EVER.

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader #silver x reader #twst silver #diasomnia #twst x reader #a.diasomnia #faeryarchives

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temporarywelcome · 28 days ago

Text

Late - Spencer Reid

Wordcount: 969

Summary: getting ready for a Halloween party with Spencer

Warnings: some swearing

A/N: technically a pt 2 of "Costumes" (can be found on Masterlist), but can 100% be read stand alone

_________

Spencer was lucky as hell she loved him to bits.

She stood in this fuck ass costume as he yapped and yapped about some fantasy series. She was dressed as the main woman, he was the main man.

Y/N could care less for Halloween. But because her boyfriend and his persuasiveness (he just had big brown eyes, for fuck’s sake) (oh, and he offered to let her handcuff him) demanded they got into the holiday spirit, she folded. Almost instantly.

So, being as whipped as she was for him, she did fall activities like pumpkin carving, apple picking, making a billion pastries with said apples, corn mazes, fall movies (some not even horror, to her disdain), and of course, dressed up for a Halloween party as a nerd character he wanted her to dress up in.

To add, she took the time to sew them herself. Anything to make that brat happy.

“I spoil you too much,” she grumbled, forcing him to still so she could fix his costume.

“I feel it is a perfect amount,” he grinned at her through the mirror, “I know I complain about dating someone in the arts literally all the time, but I take it all back. You’re awesome.”

“Gee thanks, glad I’ve now become of used to you,” she deadpanned, “Glad my costume design abilities are to your standards,”

“They are, it looks so realistic,” Spencer replied, not catching her sarcasm, “I love it, thank you so much for doing this for me. I know you didn’t want to,”

She hummed, pressing a kiss to his shoulder from behind. Luckily, she was in heels, because he’s tall, “Yeah yeah yeah. You know I can’t say no to you,” she squeezed his hip lightly before pulling back, “Now hurry up, we’re going to be late,”

“You sound eager,” he said smugly, taking a seat to slip on some boots (that she had to buy, of course).

“No, I don’t,” Y/N huffed, “I just don’t want to hear the passenger princess complain and complain while I’m forced to drive,”

“I don’t complain,”

“Oh my Goddddd that’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard,” she rolled her eyes before doing a quick eyeliner wing, being the expert performer she was. Always had to be quick. “The fact your team doesn’t know this is crazy, you must be saving the brattiness just for me,”

“You bring it out of me, I guess,”

“See? Spoiled,” she laughed, doing the other eyes.

“Well, do you want me to be like this with other people?” he raised a brow at her.

“No, I have to make the sacrifice to protect others,” Y/N said dramatically, being the woman of the arts she was.

“You’re so selfless,” Spencer said dryly, biting his lips to hold back a little giggle, “Sacrificing yourself so others don’t have to hear my mouth,”

Y/N stood back up to grab her bag and the prop sword he forced her to buy, “You’re lucky I love you, brat,” she playfully bonked his head with the sword.

“You’ll mess up my hair!” he swatted it away with a huff, “Asshole,”

She bonked his head again, “I think I’m allowed to be a little playful considering what you’re forcing me to do,”

“A Halloween party, the horror,” he rolled his eyes as he stood up, arms going around her waist, “You’re so dramatic,” His eyes lit up, “Wait! Can you help me?” he holds up an eyeliner pencil to her.

“Ah, babe, I’m a liquid liner person, but I’ll try,” she laughed softly, pushing him to sit down. Straddling his lap, she carefully began applying the eyeliner to his waterline.

“Ah ah ow! Ow! Holy shit how do girls do this shit shit shit!” On reflex, he slapped her hand away, blinking repeatedly.

“Stop moving and it won’t hurt,” Y/N grumbled, gripping his chin in a semi-tight manner, “Now stay still,” she came at him with the pencil again.

As soon as the tip pressed against his waterline, he was cursing again, “Shit shit shit shit ow ow ow!” he pushed her hand away again, “How do you do this every day?”

“I use liquid,” she reminded him before scolding him once again, “Now stop moving,”

“It’s hard,” Spencer whined, biting his bottom lip.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Baby you go face-to-face with unsubs without even blinking. I think you can handle an eyeliner pencil. Now stay. Still.”

“Yes ma’am,” he grumbled back at her, hands going to her hips as she went in to do the damn eyeliner once again, “Can I squeeze you if I get scared?” Spencer asked teasingly, leaning closer.

“Move one more time and I’ll poke your eyes out,”

“I love you too,”

“Hardy har har,” she rolled her eyes, finally able to do the waterline, “A miracle has graced us! It has been done!”

“Thank you, babe,” Spencer practically threw her off of him to see how he looked in the mirror.

Of course, she dramatically crumpled to the floor, “Oh, how I despise this treatment. Always used, never loved,”

“Get off the floor you’re going to ruin your costume!” Spencer gasped, yanking her to her feet.

“Wow,” she brought her arms around his neck, “You care more about the costume than the fact I feel used and unloved?”

“Ignoring you,” he said dryly, leaning his forehead against hers, “Save the drama for the stage, I beg of you,” he turned his head to the clock on the wall, checking the time, “Shit! We’re late!” he gripped her hand, dragging her out of the room in hurry.

“Great, now you're going to be on my ass the whole ride,” Y/N grumbled out, following him.

Spencer glared at her over his shoulder, “No, I'm not.”

He so was.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #doctor spencer reid #bau team #dr spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fandom

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solxamber · 2 months ago

Note

PSssstt I just Love the idea of teaching epel the capoeira fighting Style, it looks like somewhat of a dance but it’s really cool, and Vil has no choice but to allow it because this type of martial arts doesnt seem as brutish as other styles

I went to research what capoeira was to write this and got sucked into watching an hour of videos.

Also thank you for the request, I hope you like it <3

The day you decided to teach Epel capoeira was the day Vil learned what real suffering looked like.

“Dance fighting?” Vil had narrowed his eyes at the words, suspicion already hanging heavy in the air. “I don’t want Epel involved in anything that makes him look any less graceful.”

You had simply waved a hand at Vil, grinning with mischief as you spun towards Epel, who looked at you like you were about to hand him the holy grail of badassery. “Don’t worry, Vil, it’s not brutish. It’s artistic. There’s rhythm, elegance—”

“And kicks to the face,” Vil deadpanned.

Epel perked up immediately. “Wait, kicks to the face?”

You clapped a hand on his shoulder, nodding. “Kicks to the face.”

“That sounds amazing!” Epel grinned.

Vil sighed dramatically. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?"

You took Epel to the courtyard for your first capoeira session. He stood there, looking a little confused, while you bounced lightly on your feet, demonstrating the basic movements with a graceful sway of your hips.

“It’s like dancing,” you explained, “but with more flair. See, you start with this move—the ginga. It’s all about rhythm, making your opponent think you're in a dance, then BAM—”

You twisted into a fluid kick that had Epel’s eyes widen in awe.

Epel tried to imitate you, his movements a little stiff, but the kid had spirit. “This feels so cool already!”

You flashed him a grin. “Trust me, when Vil sees this, he won’t even be mad. He’ll be impressed. Just imagine his face when you pull this off with grace and precision.”

“Or,” came Vil’s voice from a distance as he watched the two of you, “I’ll be horrified at the utter lack of coordination.”

You turned to Vil with a dramatic bow. “Fear not, great Vil, for Epel is going to be the most elegant, face-kicking machine Twisted Wonderland has ever seen.”

Epel, laughing, threw himself into another attempt at the moves. The kick didn’t quite hit the mark, but you saw potential. His eyes sparkled with excitement. “Am I getting it? I feel like I’m getting it.”

You patted his back. “You’ve got the spirit! Now, just remember, it’s not just about strength, it’s about flow. You want to move like water, Epel.”

Vil rubbed his temples, clearly beginning to wonder why he had allowed this madness. “Flow like water, he says, yet here we are, barely avoiding disaster…”

With a sly look at Vil, you added, “Hey, why don’t you try it too? You’ve got good rhythm from all that stage practice.”

Vil blinked at you, entirely unamused. “As if I would risk breaking a nail on this—”

But before he could finish his sentence, Epel swung into a surprisingly graceful spin-kick that nearly grazed Vil’s nose. Vil jerked back, eyes wide.

“Oops,” Epel said sheepishly. “Sorry, Vil.”

You burst out laughing, and even Vil couldn’t hold back a small smirk. He raised an eyebrow at you. “Fine. I’ll admit… there’s a certain charm to it. Just as long as Epel doesn’t try this at a gala.”

Epel grinned, puffing his chest out. “I could totally pull this off at a fancy party.”

You snickered. “And if anyone asks, just tell them it’s interpretive dance.”

Vil groaned. “I should have known you’d drag me into this chaos.”

“Chaos?” You winked at him. “I prefer the term… art in motion.”

As you continued training Epel, Vil found himself shaking his head with amusement. “Just don’t destroy any furniture when you inevitably try this indoors.”

You grinned. “No promises.”

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #vil x reader #epel x reader #epel felmier #epel felmier x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit

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doctorbitchcrxft · 4 months ago

Text

Roadkill | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mentions of smut

Word Count: 4772

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

“Alright,” Dean began, cruising down a darkened road. “Tell me about Highway 41.”

You leaned your head on your arms between the shoulders of the two boys on the back of the front seat as Sam began to talk.

“Twelve accidents over fifteen years,” the brunet explained. “Five of them fatal; all of them happening on the same night.”

“So, what are we looking at— Interstate dead zone? Phantom hitchhiker? What?” Dean questioned.

Sam shook his head, continuing to flip through his notes. “Not quite. Year after year, witnesses said the same thing made them crash. A woman appearing in the middle of the road, being chased by a man covered in blood.”

“Two spooks?” you asked.

“Sounds like it,” Sam responded.

“Any idea who this chick is?”

“I think I might,” the brunet said, handing you a clipping from an old newspaper he’d printed off online. “Molly McNamara. Killed in a car crash fifteen years ago tomorrow night. She took another guy out with her; Jonah Greely. Farmer who was out in the road, and Molly couldn’t slow down in enough time to stop.”

“So, what? She haunts the road now with Greely chasin’ after her?” you questioned.

Sam shrugged. “I guess.”

“I say we go talk to the husband. Only survivor of the crash.”

And that was just where you went. You discovered she hadn’t been buried; she’d been cremated.

“So, what’s keeping her here?” Sam wondered aloud as you left the survivor’s house.

“I don’t know,” you replied.

*** The next night, you, Dean, and Sam headed down Highway 41.

“Please don’t run into the bitch and kill us all with your stupid driving,” you implored Dean, who shot you a look in the rearview mirror.

“I’m a great driver, what are you—” He cut himself off as something in the road caught his attention. “Holy—!”

You braced yourself on the back of the front seat as Dean slammed to a stop in front of a young blonde woman with scrapes and bruises littering her body. “You have to help me!” she yelled, crying.

“Dean, I don't think she knows she's dead,” Sam realized.

Molly started banging on the window of Sam’s door. “Open up! Please!”

Sam obliged, holding his hand up to try and create some distance between the two of them as he opened the car. “Okay, okay! All right, all right. Just calm down. Tell us what happened.”

You hung back with Dean while he parked the car as Sam walked ahead with Molly.

“What is he gonna tell her?” Dean asked quietly.

“Knowing Sam? Probably the truth,” you replied.

“She's gonna take off running in the other direction,” Dean sighed.

“Yeah, I know.”

“I— I swerved,” Molly was telling Sam, sitting against a tree stump, “ A-And we crashed. And when I came to, the car was wrecked and my husband was missing. I went looking for him, but that's when the man from the road, he- he started chasing me.”

“Did he look like he lost a fight with a lawn mower?” Dean questioned.

Molly looked up at Dean, shocked. “How did you know that?”

“Lucky guess,” he shrugged.

You played dumb, keeping what Dean had said earlier in mind. “Hey, what's your name?”

“Molly. Molly Mcnamara,” she said.

Sam looked over at you knowingly. “I think maybe you should come with us. We'll take you back into town.”

“I can't.” The blonde suddenly panicked. “I have to find David. He might have gone back to the car.”

“We should get you somewhere safe first. Then the three of us will come back. We'll look for your husband,” Sam tried.

“No. I'm not leaving here without him. Would you just take me back to my car, please?” she begged.

Sam hesitated a moment. “Of course,” he said finally. “Come on.”

The four of you clambered into the Impala, and Molly directed Dean toward the crash site. You were incredibly uneasy with a spirit just casually sitting next to you in the backseat, and every instinct was screaming at you to pump her full of rocksalt. However, you knew better and fought your gut feeling.

“Stop,” Molly told Dean. She was jumping out of the car before he’d fully come to a stop. “It’s right over there.”

She led you to where she thought the car would be, but there was nothing there.

“I don't understand. I'm sure this is where it was. W-We hit that tree right there. This— This doesn't make any sense,” she rushed out, running a hand through her hair. She started to head further into the woods.

Not willing to let her out of your sight, you followed. “Molly, wait!”

She turned around. “I know it sounds crazy, but I crashed into that tree. I don't know who could've taken it. It was totaled. Please. You have to believe me.”

“I do believe you,” you said. “But that’s why you gotta get outta here.”

“What about David?” she protested. “Something must have happened. I have to get to the cops.”

Dean came up behind you. “Cops! That's a great idea. We'll take you down to the station ourselves. So just come with us. It's the best way we can help you and your husband.”

“Okay,” she replied.

You shot Dean a look and headed back to the car.

As the four of you drove, Molly spoke up. “We're supposed to be in Lake Tahoe.”

“You and David?” Sam asked.

“It's our five-year anniversary,” she nodded.

“A hell of an anniversary,” Dean muttered, almost making you laugh. However, you were too focused on keeping a hand on your gun in case she made one wrong move.

“Right before, we were having the dumbest fight,” she sighed. “It was the only time we ever really argued; when we were stuck in the car.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah. I know how that goes.”

Dean scowled at him, making you smile.

“You know the last thing I said to him? I called him a jerk. Oh, god. What if that's the last thing I said to him?” she cried.

The younger Winchester turned to face her. “Molly, we're gonna figure out what happened to your husband. I promise.”

Suddenly, the radio started flickering. Its whirring and crackling soon turned to the opening notes of “House of the Rising Sun” by the Animals.

“Sam, you didn’t—?” you started.

He shook his head.

Dean sighed. “I was afraid you'd say that.”

“This song…” Molly trailed off.

“What?” you questioned.

“It was playing when we crashed,” she breathed out.

The radio crackled again, and settled on another disturbing station. A voice began to fill the car coming over the radio. “She's mine,” the voice taunted. “She's mine. She's mine.”

“What is that?” Molly asked.

Jonah Greeley suddenly appeared in the middle of the road.

Dean began flooring it straight at him. “Hold on.”

“What are you doing?” she shrieked as Dean drove into Greeley, who disappeared in a puff of smoke.

“What the... What the hell just happened?” Molly breathed.

“Don't worry, Molly. Everything's gonna be alright,” Sam coaxed.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” you quipped as the Impala began to shudder. It coasted to a stop on the side of the road.

Dean tried to start it again, but the ignition sputtered. “I don't think he's gonna let her leave.”

You got out of the car, hand still on your gun.

Dean put a hand on the small of your back, cooly saying, “Relax” into your ear. A shudder went through your spine at the contact, but you did your best to release the tension you were holding in your body.

“That’s my girl,” he said, more to himself than you.

Your heart swelled with pride just as Molly started to panic on the other side of the car. “This can't be happening.”

“Well, trust me. It's happening,” Dean remarked. He moved to the back of the car and started pulling weapons out of the trunk.

Molly came around and noticed the arsenal, immediately backing away. “Okay. Thanks for helping, but I think I got it covered from here.”

“Wait. Molly, Molly, wait a minute,” Sam begged, chasing after her.

“Just leave me alone.”

“No, no, no. Please. You have to listen to me,” he told her.

“Just stay away!” Molly started walking faster.

“It wasn't a coincidence that we found you, alright?” Sam told her.

“Oh, here we go,” you told Dean.

“What are you talking about?” the blonde asked defensively.

“We weren't just cruising for chicks when we ran into you, sister,” Dean snarked. “We were already out here. Hunting.”

“Hunting for what?” Molly questioned.

“Ghosts.”

“Don’t sugarcoat it for her,” you deadpanned.

“You're nuts,” she laughed in disbelief.

“Really? About as nuts as a vanishing guy with his guts spilling out. You know what you saw,” Dean pressed.

“We think his name is Jonah Greeley. He was a local farmer that died fifteen years ago on this highway,” Sam explained despite Molly begging him to stop. “One night a year, on the anniversary of his death, he haunts this road. That's why we're here, Molly. To try and stop him.”

It seemed like this was starting to make sense to her. “Now, I suppose this... ghost… made my car disappear, too.”

“Crazier things have happened, huh?” Dean replied.

“You know what? I'm all filled up on crazy. I'm gonna get the cops myself.” She started away.

“Not to be harsh, but you’re not gonna get far,” you called after her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she scoffed, turning back.

“Means that plan A was trying to get you out of here. Obviously that didn't go over too well with, uh, Farmer Roadkill,” Dean informed.

“Molly, we're telling the truth,” said Sam. “Greeley's not gonna let you leave this highway.”

“You're s— you're serious about this, aren't you?”

Dean nodded. “Deadly.”

‘No pun intended there, I’m sure,’ you thought.

“Every year, Greeley finds someone to punish for what happened to him. Tonight, that person is you,” Sam told Molly.

“Why me? I didn't do anything,” she cried.

“Doesn't matter. Some spirits only see what they want,” Sam shrugged.

“So you're saying this ... Greeley, he took my husband? Oh, god,” she wailed.

Sam caught her gaze again. “Molly, look, we're gonna help, all right? But first, you gotta help us.”

“Help you?” she questioned. “How?”

*** Molly led you over to a deteriorating hunting cabin where she saw Greeley. You walked in behind Dean, only slightly unsettled by the numerous blood-stained tools scattered around the room. Hunting ghosts, chopping them up— sure, no problem; Animals? They were off-limits in your mind.

“Huh. Seemed like a real sweet guy,” Dean commented upon taking in the bloodstained metal table.

“No markers or headstones outside,” Sam told you and Dean.

“You're looking for Greeley's grave?” Molly asked.

Sam nodded.

“Why?”

“So we can dig up the corpse and salt and burn it,” Dean responded nonchalantly.

“Oh. Sure, naturally,” the blonde scoffed.

“It's a way to get rid of a spirit,” Sam told her.

“And that'll save David?” Molly asked.

“Well, this is what'll help both of you, provided there's a corpse to be found,” Sam replied. You could tell the truth was burning on his tongue.

“So how do we find it?” Molly continued.

“I'm not sure. After Greeley died, his wife claimed the body. And that was the last anyone saw of her. So good guess she brought him back here. But they had a thousand acres. He could be buried anywhere on 'em,” Sam said.

“So this is really what you guys do? You're like Ghostbusters?”

“Minus the jumpsuits,” you remarked.

Briskly, Dean started, “This is a fascinating conversation and all, but this highway is only haunted once a year, and we got till sun-up to wrap this thing up. What do you say we move it along, okay? Great.”

You followed Dean outside to search for Greely’s corpse or his house.

“Can’t say I’m enjoying babysitting Casper,” you whispered to Dean.

“Me neither,” he chuckled.

“Any thoughts on what’s got her stuck?” you asked.

“Probably the fact that she doesn’t know she’s dead,” he shrugged.

“But… why would that matter?” you questioned.

“I guess you can’t move on if you don’t even know you have to,” he said.

“Makes sense,” you considered.

“David? David? David!” you suddenly heard Molly screaming behind you. She then yelped in shock, and you immediately raised your shotgun loaded with rocksalt and shot above Molly’s head at Greeley, who was holding her above the ground. He disappeared upon the round’s impact and dropped Molly.

“Nice,” Dean told you.

“Thanks,” you grinned.

“Hey! Are you alright?” Sam asked Molly.

“What has that son of a bitch done with my husband?” Molly shrieked.

“Just take it easy, alright? You're gonna see David again. You will,” Sam told her.

You noticed uneven cobblestone starting under your feet. “Hey!” you called to them.

Dean jerked his head in your direction. “Follow the creepy brick road.”

You followed closely behind Dean, blocking out Sam having to recap how ghost hunting works to Molly.

“You know, just once I'd like to round the corner and see a nice house,” Dean commented as you turned toward a slowly decaying house. It was similarly built to the smaller hunting cabin you’d first stumbled upon. You stumbled around the house, searching for any sign of Greeley or his body.

Molly and Sam stuck together at the back of the pack, and Dean stayed outside to look around. You headed up the stairs to look around. Upon doing so, you found a slew of papers strewn about. You searched through a few of them, only finding receipts, scrapbook pages, and to-do lists; nothing about a potential burial site.

Sam and Molly soon made their way into the room and you tuned out their conversation about vengeful spirits as you poked around a wall that seemed strange to you.

Dean appeared at the doorway. “Sammy's always getting a little J. Love Hewitt when it comes to things like this. Me, I don't like 'em. And I sure as hell ain't making apologies for 'em. There's nothing downstairs. You find anything?”

“Uh, just about every piece of mail or receipt they ever had. Looked through a couple, but nothing about a grave so far,” Sam explained.

“There’s somethin’ back here, though,” you said, referencing the wall. You tossed your flashlight to Sam. You dug the balls of your feet into the floor against the adjoining wall and shoved the cabinet in your way over a bit. You revealed a small hidden door, and you dusted your hands off on your jeans as you crouched to it. “It’s locked from the inside,” you announced.

“Move over,” Dean told you. When he saw you were clear, he threw a back kick at the door. You were surprised to see the door still upright. So was Dean, to your amusement. He gave it yet another kick, and it finally fell inward.

You crawled through the opening with Dean hot on your heels. “It smells like old lady in here,” he grimaced.

You stood, shocked to see a woman hanging by her neck from the ceiling. “Jesus, that explains why,” you cringed, covering your nose with the back of your sweater sleeve.

“Well, now we know why nobody ever saw her again,” Dean commented.

“She didn't want to live without him,” Molly cooed sadly.

Sam found a chair the woman had assumedly knocked from under her feet when she passed away. “Dean, give me a hand.”

“Really?” Dean scoffed.

“What are you gonna do?” Molly questioned.

Sam gave his brother a scolding look. “We can't leave her like this.”

“Why not?”

“She deserves to be put to rest, Dean.”

You gave Dean a look as well, and he reluctantly agreed. He moved toward the woman’s body as Sam cut her down, cursing under his breath when it dropped into his arms; either at the smell or the fact that he was holding a corpse.

You helped the boys dig a grave for the woman, and Dean gently laid her in it.

“So... So, if you manage to put Greeley to rest, too... What happens to them?” Molly asked.

Dean chuckled. “Lady, that answer is way beyond our pay grade.”

“You hunt these things, but you don't know what happens to them?” she pushed.

“Well, they never come back. That's all that matters.”

“Agreed,” you chimed in, but you knew the answer wasn’t satisfying her. “Look, once we get ‘em to let go of whatever’s keeping ‘em here, they just… go. Honestly, I hope some place better, but I don’t know. No one does.”

“What happens when you burn their bones?” she continued.

“Well,” Sam began, “my dad used to say that was like death for ghosts, you know? But… the truth is, we still don't know. Not for sure.” He looked over at Dean. “Guess that's why we all hold on to life so hard. Even the dead. We're all just scared of the unknown.”

“The only thing I'm scared of is losing David. I have to see him again.” Molly paused for a long while. “I have to.” ***

You stood next to the two brothers after you left Molly in a room next door to the one you were in the house. Sam said he needed to talk to you both.

“I think we should tell her about her husband,” Sam sighed.

“Oh, hell no,” you told him.

“(Y/N), it's cruel, letting her pine for him like this. I don't like keeping her in the dark.”

“It's for her own good.” Dean got up from the chair behind you. “Man, I know you feel guilty, all right? But let's just stick to the plan. Let's get her out of here. Then we'll tell her.”

Molly suddenly appeared at the door. “Tell me what? What aren't you telling me? It's about David. You know what happened to him.”

“Molly—” Sam began.

Dean cut him off. “Sam, don't.”

“Don't what? Don't tell me because I'll mess up your hunt? You don't care about me or my husband,” the blonde angrily said.

“That's not true.”

“Really? Then whatever it is, tell me, please.”

The younger brother swallowed, hesitating. Before he could say anything, a radio distantly went static. Then, it played “House of the Rising Sun.”

“Oh, great,” you grumbled.

“Stay with Molly,” Dean told Sam. He jerked his head at you to get you to follow him toward the sound. You followed the sound toward the living room, getting louder with each step. Dean stooped next to the radio and picked up a frayed, broken power cord. You heard another noise and headed to the door. It frosted over, revealing the words “She’s mine.”

You heard a scream and ran back to the room you left Sam and Molly in.

“He's got Molly!” Sam pointed out the broken window.

You jumped through it, running through the woods. You ran for a few minutes before you cursed under your breath, chest heaving. You returned to the house and started flipping through a scrapbook.

“This guy is persistent,” Dean said, coming up beside you.

“We gotta find Molly,” Sam huffed.

“We gotta find Greeley's bones,” Dean added. “And, uh, no pressure or anything, but we got less than two hours before sunrise.”

You noticed something in a picture of the hunting cabin with the Greeleys standing in front of it. “Hey.”

“What do you got?” Dean questioned.

“ 'February 6, 1992’,” you read aloud.

“That was, like, two weeks before the accident, wasn't it?” Sam chimed in.

“Yeah, but… something seems off. I swear there’s a tree right where they’re standing.” You tapped the picture.

“I should've thought of it,” Sam scolded himself.

“What?” you and Dean asked in unison.

“It's an old country custom,” Sam explained. “Planting a tree as a grave marker.”

Dean chuckled. “You're like a walking encyclopedia of weirdness.”

“Yeah. I know,” Sam deadpanned somewhat bitterly.

You broke off in a sprint toward the hunting cabin with a shovel in hand. You immediately began digging around the tree. You suddenly heard a scream as the brothers came up beside you.

“Go get Molly,” you instructed Dean, who nodded and headed inside.

Sam began helping you dig around the tree. You dug in silence feverishly until Sam said, “Hey, I got something over here.”

“Hurry up, guys!” you heard Dean distantly yell.

You looked into the spot where Sam was digging to discover a set of bones carefully laid in an open grave. You ducked down to the duffel bag beside Sam and handed him a container of salt as you searched around for the kerosene. Quickly, you stood back up and emptied the kerosene on top of the body as Sam finished salting the bones. Sam lit a match he’d grabbed and dropped it on top of the bones which immediately ignited into a roaring fire.

Dean came out of the house with Molly, and you noticed a deep gash on Dean’s cheek. You ran to him as Molly continued ahead to Sam. You gingerly touched the wound, and he hissed in pain.

“When this is over, I need to patch that up,” you told him.

“I’m fine, (Y/N),” he insisted.

“Stop being so hardheaded. I need to fix it up before it gets infected,” you argued.

Dean grumbled, “Fine,” and followed Molly and Sam to the Impala. He patted the hood of his car lovingly. “Oh, baby, it's been a long night,” he cooed, dropping his bag in the backseat and climbing into the driver’s seat.

You rolled your eyes at him, and got down into the seat behind him.

You saw Sam arguing with Molly outside of the car, but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. You then saw her smile in relief before eagerly climbing into the car next to you.

Wordlessly, Sam and Dean exchanged a look. You figured Sam told her he’d take her to David. Dean then drove a route you’d taken before to the man’s house. You pulled up to the lovely suburban home, light emanating from it into the dark night.

“He's in that house, right there,” Sam told Molly.

Her shoulders dropped and formerly cheery expression changed. “I don't understand.”

“You will.”

You got out of the car and stood next to Dean.

Molly’s breath quickened. “That's— not— It can't be.”

You watched the woman carefully, and for the first time, felt bad for a vengeful spirit. You watched as David stood dressed in a bathrobe holding a steaming cup of liquid, sipping it before a woman came up to him and pecked him on the lips.

“What's happening?” Molly questioned. “Who is that?”

“David’s wife,” you answered.

She turned back to the house, confused, before turning back to you and the Winchesters.

“I'm sorry, Molly,” Sam began softly. “Fifteen years ago, you and your husband hit Jonah Greeley with your car. David survived.”

“What are you saying?” The blonde’s voice wavered.

“We're saying there isn't just one spirit haunting Highway 41,” Dean added. “There are two. Jonah Greeley and you.”

“For the past fifteen years, one night a year you've been appearing on that highway,” explained the younger brother.

“No, that's not possible. It was our anniversary… February 22nd—”

“1992,” you cut her off.

“Yes,” she responded, looking at you like you were stupid.

“It’s 2007,” you finished.

“Oh, god,” she cried. “And Greeley?”

“Each year he punishes somebody for his death... ah, chasing them. Torturing them. And each year, that somebody is you,” the brunet explained.

“But I don't remember any of it.”

“Because you couldn't see the truth, Molly. Some spirits only see what they want,” Sam told her.

“So that's why he won't let me off the highway. Because... I killed him. I killed us both.” Molly shakily moved over to the front steps of the house. You followed her over as she inquired, “Why didn't you tell me when you first saw me? Why wait until now?”

“You wouldn't have believed us,” Dean replied.

She looked up t0 Dean, stating accusingly, “And you needed me for bait.”

“Well, we needed you,” Sam chimed in.

“David,” she breathed out.

The younger brother sighed. “Molly, we brought you here so you could move on.”

“I have to tell him—”

You cut her off. “Tell him what? That you love him? That you’re sorry? I’m sure he knows that. You go in there, you’re gonna scar him for life. He’s already grieved you. Let him move on.”

“David's already said his goodbyes, Molly,” Sam continued. “Now it's your turn. This is your unfinished business.”

“What am I supposed to do?” she sobbed.

“Just... let go. Of David. Of everything. You do that, we think you'll move on,” he explained.

“But you don't know where.”

“No, but that’s okay,” you said. “You don’t belong here.”

“Haven't you suffered long enough? It's time. It's time to go,” Sam finished for you.

She nodded sadly, then slowly stepped away from you and the brothers. She moved down the road toward the rising sun, and allowed herself to become absorbed by the light dawning.

“I guess she wasn't so bad... for a ghost,” Dean remarked. He turned to his younger brother. “You think she's really going to a better place?”

“I hope so,” he shrugged.

“I guess we'll never know. Not until we take the plunge ourselves, huh?” Dean quipped.

“Doesn't really matter, Dean. Hope's kind of the whole point.”

“Alright, Haley Joel.” He smacked Sam on the shoulder. “Let's hit the road.”

You and the brothers decided you needed to get some sleep a few towns over before searching for another case. These periods of down time between hunts were always bizarre; driving with no particular destination would always feel foreign to you no matter how many times you had done it.

***

You forced Dean to come to your motel room to let you patch up the few wounds he’d sustained from fighting Jonah Greeley’s ghost.

“I really don’t think this is necessary,” he grumbled.

“I think it is. So, tough,” you said firmly.

Dean looked like he wanted to protest, but he thankfully said nothing. You set to work bandaging his cheek, standing between his spread legs as he sat on the bathroom counter. “How’s your shoulder?”

“What?” he asked.

“The gunshot wound, maybe?” you remarked.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” you giggled, half-mocking him.

“It’s fine. Barely even feel it,” he shrugged.

“Then I guess it won’t be a problem if I give it a once-over,” you challenged.

Dean cut his eyes back at you, but decided against arguing. He shrugged off his leather jacket, then his canvas jacket, then pulled his undershirt over his head. No matter how many times you’d seen Dean shirtless, the sight would always make your breath catch in your throat. He seemed to note your reaction, smirking at you wantonly.

You rolled your eyes, fighting an amused smile as you unwrapped the wound on his shoulder. It was getting better, but you were still concerned about the wound becoming infected. The bullet had lodged in him several inches deep, and it was certainly going to take more than a month to fully heal. Gingerly, you touched the skin around the wound, and Dean hissed and grabbed your wrist.

You looked up at him apologetically, but still mockingly said, “ ‘Barely even feel it’ my ass.”

He rolled his eyes at you and released your wrist. When you had it completely wrapped up, your fingers lingered over the edge of the dressings. Dean grabbed your wrist gently once more, bringing it to his lips and kissing the inside near your pulse point. Your breath hitched as he did so, and he stared at you intently. You shrank under his gaze, heat spreading through your cheeks, and his self-satisfied smirk returned to his face.

“There you go again,” you joked quietly. “Always cheapening the moment.”

He smiled, using his free hand to wrap around your waist and bring you closer to him. He took the wrist he’d been holding and wound it around his neck and leaned forward to kiss you. You responded eagerly, pushing him back down onto the bed. You grinned against his lips, getting lost in the feeling of his body against yours. However, the two of you didn’t have sex that night. It was just enough to be with each other. The idea of that was foreign to the both of you— especially Dean— but you were grateful all the same.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #spn series rewrite #supernatural series rewrite

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thedarkestrivernymph · 3 months ago

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Burn

Yandere!Husband x gn!Reader

warnings: abuse, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death, manipulative tendencies, gaslighting, murder, gore

It burns, so agonizingly much, that uncertainty about this whole ordeal crept up your spine and settled in your chest.

Was this the right thing to do? To flee? It echoed in the emptiness that took over your head. It was perplexing and uncomfortable. You shouldn't feel empathy for him. He was crazy, deranged! Gone, a maniac, a bastard—

But maybe he was innocent and you were running away from the ghosts hunting you.

He was all that was left of your family. You didn't want to do this, you wanted him with you, loving and sweet, but it seemed that fate had different plans for the two of you. It seems that fate didn't favour you.

He had wormed himself into your life—then into your sacred family bonds, destroying what was already fragile. The mask he wore was that of a kindred spirit that sought for love, yet you never knew better than to believe the artificially crafted facade.

Prior he was an orphan, abandoned by his mother at six, which admittedly tugged at your heartstrings, even more so after learning the horrible foster parents, which was followed by the straight up ignorant adoptive family that took him in only for prestige matters.

So it wasn't that you didn't understand his desire for family, and you were even happy for him! Glad he found love in yours, yet all your hopeful dreams of finally peace settling in had vanished the moment the first of your relatives cut you off. Then a second followed, a third, a fourth until even your mom shunned you, refusing to see you any longer. They absolutely adored your husband but hated your guts.

However he didn't seem to hold the same adoration for them, no, he didn't even possess an ounce of sympathy with them as he watched them turn to ashes Infront of his very own eyes, laughing, like the maniac he was.

“Love!” he would jump up and down you remembered, seemingly over the moon by your dad praising him or your sister gifting him something meaningless as a cookie.

After he had burned down everything holy to you, he had just slipped back into your shared bed, stinking horribly of that kind of smell that reached your nose every time you left your omelette too long on the stove.

You hadn't understood then, but you did now, that that smell was foreshadowing to the petrifying news that had reached you the next day.

Everything spiralled out of your control after that day. You were completely scattered, forgetful, permanently teary-eyed, clumsy and visibly distraught.

So it started with your inability to hold up your job, which made him offer you to stay at home, while he financed you both. He was so devilishly sweet, messaging your shoulders when you were completely stiff, guiding you through breakdowns, cooking for you, feeding you. You hadn't know how you got so lucky with him.

However things became odd quickly, your friends seemed to disappear one by one, their numbers blocked, deleted or erased from existence. You were unbelievably mad, was this because of your new miserable state—the friends that swore to go through thick and thin with you, leaving you in your most vulnerable times—how could they!

Although you were burning with anger, even that was quickly forgotten thanks to him. He was your absolute everything, your entire world and you were much obviously his. You two were a match made in heaven—or at least that's what you believed until that one phone call.

“Stacey?—”

“You have to get out of there! He isn't what he seems to be— your husband, he’s crazy! He threatened me! If I didn't stop being in contact with you then he would have also murdered me like he did with your family—” your heard your friend over the phone, voice unusually frail, breaths laboured with sniffling in the background.

Your heart leaped in your chest at the sound of her frantic claims, completely unbelievable and baffling, even if your trust for her had completely evaporated, uncertainty still poisoned you and infiltrated your mind like a sickness.

Nevertheless you did end the call before she could spew anymore nonsense, sealing her terrible fate, because unbeknownst to you, that was the last time she would ever talk to anyone.

Things didn't feel normal anymore after that, suspiciousness spread through you, gnawing at your already highly sensitive nerves, you instability just making you waver back and forth from completely denying the unapparent truth and panicking that perhaps it was true. She was your friend for years after all, what reason did she have to lie?

That was until you found Stacey’s childhood diary in his possession with dried splatter of blood decorating it—as if this wasn't terrifying enough what met you on the inside made you drop the book, completely mortified and stunned into silence.

Every entry that contained your name scribbled over with hearts, anything that had to do with you underlined, things that you liked circled in like a madman.

You were terrified to say the least—she was right, she was right and you didn't believe her.

Tears welled up in your eyes and before you knew it, your feet carried you out of your shared home, still in your PJ's with slippers adorning your feet.

Which leads to this moment in the present.

Unfortunately for you, he had knowingly bought a house with your inheritance, in the middle of nowhere. You were stumbling over twigs, leaves crushing beneath your weight and before you knew it, you were running.

Yet you did forget one crucial aspect—running didn't help when he could track you down with the GPS clipped under your skin so subtly you didn't even realise he had done so.

Bang.

Pain shot through your thigh, an excruciating amount, making you instantly stumble, before tumbling down, face first into the wet earth, crying out in pain.

Blood seeped out from where he shot you, painting the forest floor a warning crimson. You tried to crawl, you attempted to flee, but all was for nothing, no one and nothing could have tear you two apart, even if it was you.

Fingers roughly whipped your head back, scalp burning from the abuse.

“There you are, love.” he spat out, the familiar warmth gone replaced by an indefinite disdain.

“You saw it, huh? You learned about everything I did for you and that's how you thank me? By running away just cuz’ I committed some petty crimes?” he shook your head violently, before shoving your face into the mud. Before he ripped your head out of the earth, starting to fall into a pattern, repeating it over and over again till your vision faded with only his words ringing into your ears, as blood ran down your presumably broken nose, eyes swelling with unshed tears of a gruesome future that awaited you.

“You're weak. And dumb. But don't you worry, I will take care of you. I will love you, look after you, clean up each mess you make, be there to rock you back and forth when you have one of your meltdowns again. So don't worry your stupid little head about anything,

just trust me, love.”

#yandere #yandere male #yandere stories #yandere story #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #cw: gore #yandere x darling #cw: death #cw: murder #yandere horror #yandere husband

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 11 months ago

Text

Bad Faith Part One

Masterlist | Part Two

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Rating: Mature (Part 2 will likely be explicit)

Notes: Not beta-read because when is it ever. Welcome to part one of two!

There will ONLY be two parts! If you ask me at the end of part two where part three is, I'm going to point you back to this notes section!

If you asked me where part three is and you've been linked here, hi!

Length: 8k

Warnings: Angst. Angst angst angst angst; reader is going through a divorce; Reader's married surname is Hayward; unhealthy coping mechanisms; lovers to enemies to allies to lovers....did I mention angst by any chance? Cause—

Summary: There were so many resources about Steven Hayward from the last decade—interviews, profiles, filings. In all of them, Steven came off as a self-assured, cocky, pompous asshat, but a decent strategist. Those same profiles had described Mrs. Hayward as the trophy wife, the little woman behind the man, tending to the arrangements for their multi-million, 3,000 square foot penthouse overlooking Central Park. For as much as Harvey had forced himself to forget about her, he couldn’t forget her spirit, her determination, her desire to build a life, not to be handed one. None of the credit was given to her. None of the glory, none of the acknowledgement of what Harvey was certain were her blood, sweat and tears in that man’s holdings.

The tears that she had seemed set to shed in his office were all the indication that Harvey needed.

It was a long, harrowing moment of silence as Jessica processed all that you’d told her. You fought not to sniffle into the quiet, but your eyes had steadily been leaking tears for the last twenty minutes. Jessica finally stood from her armchair, patting you on the knee and murmuring, “You need a drink.”

You spluttered a weak laugh, watching her stride over to her luxe kitchen.

“Gin and tonic?”

“I would drink the gin straight at that point," You failed to tease.

“Things aren’t all that desperate yet.”

Yet. How reassuring.

You looked down at the damp, crumpled tissues in your hand before you raised one, dabbing at the few remaining tears. It was another few moments before you heard the click of Jessica’s heels crossing back to you.

“...Thanks for holding back.”

She frowned as you looked up at her, taking hold of the glass that she proffered.

“Holding back?”

“The I told you so.”

Jessica’s lips pursed, her head tipping with what you could only assume was a blend of indignance and pity.

“I did, for the record.”

“I know.”

“I told you nothing good could come from tangling your entire life up with that man.”

“You know, I think those were the exact words that you closed your toast out with at the wedding.” You took a swig, wincing at the overwhelming tang of gin. “Christ, that’s strong.”

“Too much?”

“No. It’s perfect, actually.”

Jessica smiled, lowering herself to sit beside you.

“Do you have lawyers in mind?”

“For the divorce? No.”

“I’ll give you recommendations.”

“I appreciate that, but that’s not why I’m here.” You glanced doggedly toward Jessica. “I need your help…Untangling a few holdings. Things that I can live off of, or break apart and sell for scraps. I can’t even afford a divorce lawyer right now—let alone whoever you’d suggest.”

“What?”

“Steven locked all of my credit cards and froze our joint bank account. I tried reaching out to him, but he won't answer me, and the bank won’t unfreeze it. He seems to think that I’m going to drain the entire thing.”

“Why does he think that?”

“Probably because that’s what he would do.” You sniffled, looking down into your glass. “I have some money in savings, but not a lot. Not enough for me to live off of beyond a few months.”

“Holy hell,” Jessica sighed. You grunted, head hanging as you felt the weight of her judgement. “Do you have any idea which entities you want to go after?”

“Yeah.” You set your drink down, reaching out to where you’d set your bag down and drawing out a bland beige file. You’d spent the morning working up your courage to come over and tell Jessica the awful truth, and had also spent that time putting together the data to do it. You flipped the file open and passed it over.

“This is every single property and holding company that I have my name on. I circled the apartment buildings that I want to sell, and the companies that I think would be best suited to my purposes.”

“Is Steven on all of these?”

“Only the ones that I put an asterisk beside, but I wouldn't be surprised if he came after the others.”

Jessica hummed, nodding. “You knew exactly what I’d ask for.”

“Well, I know you.”

She smiled, closing your file and setting it on her lap.

“Then I’m sure you know what I’m going to say next.”

The implication made your stomach churn with discomfort. You took the glass up again, taking a deep pull from it.

“I do,” You admitted, nose wrinkling again from the sharp juniper taste, “And I know that you’re going to say that it’s the best course of action—”

“The only course of action.”

“That’s patently untrue. You have more than one lawyer at your firm.”

“Not one that could handle a case of this magnitude.”

“Not even Louis?”

“Louis is like a french bulldog. Harvey is a pitbull.”

“You know, that’s actually a really harmful stereotype.”

Jessica’s brows lowered in chastisement, and you looked back down into your drink for safety.

“Wouldn’t it be a conflict of interest?” You added.

“How could it be? You’ve barely spoken to or looked at the man in eleven years.”

Eleven years. Had it really been that long?

“I know that you and Harvey parted on bad terms,” Jessica offered softly, and continued over your disbelieving scoff, “But you need to come out of this with the funds and the strength for a good divorce lawyer. Harvey can give you that.”

“What if he doesn’t take the case?”

“He will.”

“But if he doesn’t?”

“He will.”

“Jessica.”

“He won't have a choice.”

“Oh, he’ll love that. There’s nothing Harvey likes more than being backed in a corner."

“That’s when he comes out swinging the hardest.” She plucked the emptied glass out of your hand, heading toward the kitchen again. “Would you like another one?”

You sighed, slouching heavily against the couch and scrubbing your tired eyes.

“I’d really just like that bottle of gin—and a straw.”

“Would you stop fussing? You look fine.”

“I don’t care how I look,” You grumbled, though that didn’t stop you from reaching down and adjusting the skirt of your dress. You didn’t want to admit that Jessica was right, though you both knew that she was. She always had you nailed dead to rights, and that morning was no different.

You had a slight headache from the drinks you’d had at her apartment the night before, but it was hardly the worst hangover that you’d ever had. You were already two coffees in and you were itching for a third, but you already felt like shit. A third one would just make your heart pound harder, your hands more sweaty, and probably send your anxiety through the roof. You were certain the conversation you were about to have would do all of that for you, so no additional coffee was needed.

You drew in a deep breath, standing and tugging your dress down again as you walked over to look through out over the city. You could hear the ringing of phones behind you, the clicking of heels, the chatter of conversation. You were just waiting for his voice, waiting for his bravado to enter before he did, to suck the air out of the room.

“...What’d he say when you told him?” You asked.

“I haven't yet. I thought it would be more effective if we told him together.”

“So not only is he being forced to take my case, but it’s an ambush.” You cast Jessica an unimpressed sidelong glance, brows quirked in disbelief. She simply gave a small shrug.

“I know my associates.”

“Mm, I bet.”

“I understand I was summoned? Have I been so terribly missed? Whaddaya say we play hooky, go to the batting cages?”

There he was—each question was just punch after punch after punch. Your mouth and throat went dry as your body seemed to divert all available liquid assets to the sweat beginning to wet your palms.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know we had company,” He added.

“It’s alright. Harvey, you know Mrs. Steven Hayward.”

Hayward. You had always hated the name. Hell, you couldn’t even believe you’d taken it, but you’d been so damn afraid of putting a foot wrong, wary of having someone change their mind again about marrying you.

You turned to face Harvey, leaning back against the window and folding your arms across your chest, pressing your slick palms to your sides. It shouldn't have been so vindicating to see Harvey looking so gobsmacked, to watch the color drain from his face as his eyes caught up with his mind—as he came to realize, yes, that Mrs. Steven Hayward.

“Mr. Specter,” You greeted flatly.

“I—What’s going on?”

It’s nice to see you, too. You bit the inside of your cheek to silence your snide remark.

“Mrs. Hayward needs to dissolve and sell a few of her holdings, and I told her that I had just the lawyer for the job,” Jessica announced.

“...Is that lawyer in the room with us?” Harvey shook his head a little.

“You are that lawyer. You’ll be taking the case pro-bono.”

“Pro—Jessica, those cases are reserved for people that actually need help, not for multi-millionaires.”

That stung in a way that it shouldn’t have—but he was right. There were surely cases that were more worthy of his attention. Still, you couldn't deny the fact that you needed his help, and that your pockets weren't nearly as deep as they used to be.

“My husband is the multi-millionaire, not me,” You argued.

“Bullshit.”

“You wanna see my bank statements? I have a little over three hundred in checking, a few thousand in savings.”

“Mrs. Hayward needs this resolved as quickly as possible, and without any of your usual pomp and circumstance,” Jessica cut in.

“Why don’t you do this through a divorce attorney?” Harvey pressed.

“Because right now, I can’t afford one.”

Harvey pursed his lips, looking between you and Jessica. You watched his jaw tick, saw the thick bob of his adam’s apple shift his collar a little.

“You have a list of holdings?” He asked, glancing toward you.

“Twenty,” You nodded.

“To be chopped up and sold for scraps?”

“Yes.”

“Seems a little ruthless for you.”

“It’s what needs to be done.”

“And you expect me to do it?”

“I expect you to do your job. If you can’t get over the fact that it’s for me, then you’re in the wrong business.”

Harvey’s gaze narrowed, his eyes darkening irritation. Oh, you knew that look—like it or not, you had a flash of it like it was yesterday.

“...Where’s the file.”

Jackpot.

“On the desk.”

You weren’t about to hand it to him. Hell—you weren’t about to hand anything to Harvey Specter on a silver fucking platter. He walked slowly to Jessica’s desk, eyes dropping to the file that had been thickened with information on each of the holdings. He opened it, gaze scanning your original sheet before flipping a couple of pages.

“I’ll need time to look this over,” He argued.

“Obviously.”

“I’ll call you.”

“Great.”

“Number still the same?”

Bastard.

“My new number is on the inside of the folder.”

“Great. Is there anything else that I should know?”

“Just that Steven and his cadre of sharks will likely stick their noses in the second they smell blood in the water.”

“We’ll be ready.”

“Good.”

Harvey gave you one last look, one long, sweeping, analyzing look before he turned away, striding out of Jessica’s office. You slowly released a long breath, shoulders untensing as he got further and further away. You lowered your hands, shaking them out and blowing cool air across your shaking, sweating palms.

“Are you sweating?” Jessica asked.

“Are you not? It’s boiling in here." You yanked your collar away from your neck, fanning over your heating skin.

“You can relax. He took the case.”

“Because he had to, not because he wanted to.”

“He’ll get over it, and he’ll do his job.”

“He’s such a grumpy asshole,” You sighed, walking over to the chair that you’d left your jacket and bag on. “But if you say you’re gonna keep him on the straight and narrow—”

“I will—”

“—Then I believe you. I’ve gotta go.”

“Where to?”

“I have to go look at an apartment.”

“Work never ends.”

“This is personal. I need to find a new place. I've been in a hotel for the last few nights, and I can't afford to keep that up."

“Don’t you own your place?”

You shook your head, averting your gaze as you pulled on your coat.

“The penthouse is in Steven’s name.”

You’d had a few hours to forget the weight of Jessica’s judgement, but you felt it again in full force as she shook her head.

“...I thought you were smarter than this,” She said after a moment.

You looked toward Jessica, giving her a small, weak smile. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Do you want me to call you a car? On the firm, of course.”

“No! No, but thanks. I should reacquaint myself with the subway. I’m going to be using it more often.”

You managed to hold it together until the real estate agent gave you a moment to ‘get a better sense of the space’. She clearly had no idea who you were, which was a boon, and hardly looked away from her phone as she waved with one hand and typed with the other thumb. You turned to look around, heard the snick of the door closing, and just…Lost it.

Your tears poured out like someone had reached into your head and turned on a faucet. You buried your face into your hands, uncaring of the fact that your makeup was going to run together. You’d given eleven years of your life to a man that was throwing you to the wolves, as if you’d never meant a thing to him at all—as if you hadn’t put your blood, sweat, and tears into building his empire—into what you had once thought was your empire, too.

And what the hell did you have to show for it? You stood in a $3,200 392 square foot studio apartment of a six-floor walk-up in the West Village, wearing a $4,900 dress, standing in $600 shoes, a your $1,200 purse shifting on your arm as your shoulders shook with sobs.

You sniffled roughly, chest hiccuping tightly as you finally began to calm. You reached into your purse, drawing out a compact and flipping it open. You swiped at your run makeup, taking up the pressed powder puff and dabbing beneath your eyes, and over the tear tracks in your foundation. God, just pull it together for the snot-nosed realtor outside. Tell her that you wanted to take it, get the keys, and start figuring out how you could get your things from Steven. You would need to make money in the meantime.

You looked down, shifting rocking back on your heels to get a better look at your shoes.

You never did love this outfit, and you couldn’t have worn it more than twice. Resale couldn’t be too far below purchase, could it? Come to think of it, you had closets full of hardly worn designer outfits at the penthouse. You looked around the studio. You could spring for a few wheeled clothing racks, find a few reputable resellers. You could get good money for your dresses, your shoes, probably even more for the jewelry that you almost certainly wouldn’t be keeping. Steven always had brought you home a trinket from the trips that he frequently took without you—beautiful gems that you knew now were trinkets for guilt, or something like it. You were almost certain Steven didn’t really feel guilt, but he could play-act at it well enough.

But you didn’t have to worry about that at that moment. And as soon as Steven did rear his ugly head, he would have Harvey to deal with. Considering your history, that shouldn't have been a very comfortable thought—but you had Harvey and Jessica in your corner.

You closed your eyes and drew in a deep breath, deeper than you were able to draw before. You held it for one...two...three...And pushed it out slowly as your heated face began to cool.

Deal with the realtor first. Sign the lease, get the keys, and start getting your life back together.

“This isn’t going to be an easy one," Harvey warned.

“Of course it isn’t. If it was, you wouldn’t have agreed to take the case.”

“I didn’t take it, it was given to me.”

“You poor thing.”

It left you without any sympathy, your gaze stone-heavy as you watched him. He narrowed his eyes, a smile set in place as he rocked back and forth in his chair. He tapped his pen on his lips for a moment before he rocked fully forward. You watched his gaze skate across the file in front of him.

“The way I see it, there are four easy wins here,” He turned the file toward you, and you scooted forward in your seat to get a better look at them. “The two apartment buildings on the upper East Side, the one in the Village, and the brownstone in Park Slope. We can hack away at the other sixteen down the road, but we should move on these.”

“Okay.”

“The easiest win is going to be in the Slope. The assessed value is…” His brows furrowed, and he leaned over the file and squinted, as if he wasn’t quite seeing the number correctly.

“Seven million?” You filled in. Harvey’s gaze darted to yours, brows raised.

“Nice chunk of change.”

“I want it listed for ten.”

“That may be a little unrealistic.”

“I’m looking for 8.5 in cash, if possible, so I’m expecting some haggling. I already told the broker as much.”

“Alright. Which of these buildings are you staying in?”

“I’m not staying in any of them.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not staying in any of them.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m pairing down, staying somewhere else.”

“You could stay in any of these rent-free.”

“The HOA and utilities are more than I can afford right now.”

“We could bake the HOA into the contract.”

“If Steven found out I was staying in any of them, he’d find a way to tank the deal from the outside.”

Harvey’s expression tightened a little before he nodded: “Fine. I’ll need your new address for the paperwork.”

“May I use your pen, please?”

Harvey pushed the file closer, passing the pen with it. You could feel him watching you as you jotted down your address, name, and number. Harvey draws the file back to himself, sweeping over the information.

“Keeping your married name?”

“I’ve put in the paperwork to change it, but that could take at least a couple of months.”

“I have a friend that clerks for the Supreme Court of New York, I could put in a word.”

“That’s a kind offer but don’t worry about it. Is there anything else that we need to discuss today?”

“No, that about covers it. I’ll call you if our real estate department or my associate comes across anything that could be beneficial to your situation.”

“I may have just uncovered something.”

You turned at the sound of a new voice, catching sight of a young man standing in the doorway.

“This is Mike Ross, my associate,” Harvey introduced, standing and holding a hand out toward Mike. “Mike Ross, this is Mrs. Steven Hayward.”

Your name left him with a vinegary annoyance that you’d been hoping would be absent from this meeting. You stood, holding out your hand and offering Mike your first name.

“Would you prefer to be, uh..." Mike’s gaze darted between you and Harvey.

“I’d prefer you not to use my married name, if possible.”

“Got it. So,” Mike stepped between you and Harvey, opening the file that he was holding. “I’ve found an additional six properties where your name is the only one on the lease.”

You frowned, brow furrowing as you stepped closer to get a look at the file. “That can’t be right.”

“If Mike found it, it’s right.” There was an irritated thread of steel in Harvey’s tone, and you shot him a scathing glance.

“The comment was one of surprise, not distrust.”

“Maybe next time you can keep your surprise to yourself and let my associate speak.”

“Just like you’re letting him speak right now?”

Harvey’s jaw went tight, and you raised your brows as a knowing smirk curled your lips before you turned back to Mike and nodded:

“You were saying?”

Mike’s expression was riddled with confusion, but he snapped back into action.

“Right—There are, uh…Three complexes in downtown Brooklyn,” He shifted through the stack of papers and drew out photos. “They were gutted for renovation, but work was stopped before any further changes could be made. They cited funding concerns.”

That really couldn’t be right. Steven was rolling in cash like a pig in shit. You took hold of the photos, frown deepening as you got a better look at them.

“What is it?” Harvey pressed.

“I don’t recognize any of these.” You flipped to the next one, then the next. The walls in all of them had been stripped; the floors were torn up; the wiring of the ceiling was exposed.

“What about the other three?” You pressed.

“Uh—One house in the Hamptons, one in Cape Cod, and one in Gstaad.”

“You’re kidding,” You said flatly, looking at MIke.

“I am not. I take it you don’t know about any of those, either?”

“Not a one.”

“Would you want any of them?”

“Maybe Cape Cod.”

“Not Gstaad?” Harvey asked.

“Mm, not worth it. I don’t know how to ski.”

“Still?”

You rolled your eyes pointedly before you nodded back to Mike’s file. “Do you have the paperwork for the properties?” “Yeah, it’s, uh…” He set the file down, sifting through for the paper clipped documents and lining them up on Harvey's desk. “These are…All of them…Separated out by property.”

You went down the line, flipping through each of the pages and growing more and more frantic as you did.

“None of these are my signature.”

“He would’ve closed through a title company, I can hunt that down,” Mike commented to Harvey.

“We can throw these on the list of what needs to be sold, or put them in a living trust,” Harvey offered.

“...I don't know,” You leaned away, shaking your head. You felt so unsettled; after the rapid upheaval of your life over the last week you weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. After this, you had to worry about the divorce, the tabloids, whatever the fuck else you were going to do with your life—You felt your throat going tight with tears, and you cleared your throat harshly, trying to dispel some of the feeling. “If they were good investments, Steven would’ve used his name on them.”

“All the more reason for you to ditch them.”

“I want them inspected first. I’m not throwing these on the market until I know what the hell I’m dealing with.”

“We can take care of that,” Mike promised. You nodded, glancing toward him and offering a tight, grateful smile.

“Not that you’re paying us to.”

Harvey’s snide reminder was like having a bucket of cold water poured over you. Your hands curled into fists where they rested on your hips. You were just on the edge of slapping the guy—

“You can deal with me directly,” You offered Mike. “My number’s in the file. Thank you, for—” You waved your hand toward the file. “Uncovering this. I appreciate it.” You took up your purse and threw your coat over your arm, trying to hold back your rapidly rising tears as your face flooded with heat.

“You’re just going to go?” Harvey asked.

“It’s always worked for you pretty well,” You snapped. “Figured I’d give it a try.” You stormed out without another word, keeping your gaze staunchly set on the floor that you desperately wanted to sink through.

“I have…So many questions right now,” Mike shook his head as he watched Mrs. Hayward stride toward the elevators.

“You know where to start. Get the inspections lined up, and then start prepping the filings for forgery—”

“Harvey,” Mike raised his hands, chuckling with shock. “What—Was that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. The whole ‘if Mike found it it’s right’?”

“Well, that’s true.”

“That thing about her still not being able to ski? How do you know her?”

“We’ve met, that’s all.”

“It’s obviously more than that.” Mike searched Harvey’s gaze for a few moments. “C’mon, what’s your deal?”

Harvey considered for a moment, his jaw working before he nodded to the right. “Close the door.”

He lowered himself into his seat as Mike did as he asked, then turned back to him.

“Mrs. Hayward and I…” Harvey’s expression tightened as he struggled with it. “We were…Involved for a while.”

“While she was married?”

“Before.”

“How involved?”

“We were engaged.”

Mike’s eyes widened drastically, his brows making a jump toward his hairline. “En—What?” He laughed breathlessly. “The great Harvey Specter was almost nailed by that ice queen?”

“Watch it,” Harvey warned; he was stunned as he felt a flair of protectiveness bloom in his chest. “She wasn’t always like that.” He glanced toward the property statements at the front of his desk, and he thought of the dismayed twist of her features. When she’d met his gaze, her eyes had been bright with tears. Maybe that was his fault, at least a little. He should’ve watched his tone a little more. He had surely made her cry enough, years ago.

“What happened?” Mike pressed.

“I wasn’t ready.”

“You broke it off?”

“...Something like that.”

Harvey’s gaze flitted nervously toward Mike, and he could practically hear the wheels turning overtime in his head. It only took a moment before Mike’s eyes managed to widen further, his jaw dropping open in shock.

“Oh my—There is no way.”

“I’m not proud of it,” Harvey raised a hand to stop Mike’s incredulous questioning.

“Let me just make sure I’m on the same page here,” Mike shook his head. “You left her at the altar, she married this guy, and now you’re…Making jokes about the fact that she can’t ski or afford a lawyer?”

Harvey’s heart sank into his stomach as he cut an irritated gaze across the desk.

“I’m not proud of that, either.”

“Didn’t stop you, though, did it.”

“Are you finished with your lecture? Because you have a lot of work to do.”

“On it,” Mike nodded, hopping out of his seat and restacking the paperwork into the file.

“While you’re at it, keep your ear to the ground on that Park Slope property. The sooner the wheels are turning on that, the better. Use that number,” He tapped the file, “To call her, and send any documents to that address.”

“Understood.”

Harvey listened to Mike’s retreating footsteps as he twisted back and forth in his seat, restless in his discomfort. He pushed himself out of his seat in annoyance, unable to stand sitting anymore. Why had he shot his mouth off at her like that? He knew that she was going through it. He just figured when he’d first seen her in Jessica’s office that this situation wouldn’t be quite so hellish.

Steven Hayward was a billionaire, a former Forbes 30 Under 30 recipient. Harvey had done his digging when the engagement had first been announced—just a few months after Harvey had made the decision not to marry her. He’d assumed then that if she’d moved on so quickly, she couldn’t have loved him much in the first place, and the idea had solidified his decision not to go through with their wedding.

Harvey had done his best to put her out of his mind, and he’d succeeded for the most part. But when Jessica had thrown this case at him, he’d gone back, done some more digging. There were so many resources about Steven Hayward from the last decade—interviews, profiles, filings. In all of them, Steven came off as a self-assured, cocky, pompous asshat, but a decent strategist. Those same profiles had described Mrs. Hayward as the trophy wife, the little woman behind the man, tending to the arrangements for their multi-million, 3,000 square foot penthouse overlooking Central Park. For as much as Harvey had forced himself to forget about her, he couldn’t forget her spirit, her determination, her desire to build a life, not to be handed one. None of the credit was given to her. None of the glory, none of the acknowledgement of what Harvey was certain were her blood, sweat and tears in that man’s holdings.

The tears that she had seemed set to shed in his office were all the indication that Harvey needed. He scrubbed his hand across his face, trying to compose himself as he pushed the wounded memory of her away.

Even footing. He needed to get the two of them on some kind of even footing. Every conversation couldn’t be a fight—it would just slow the both of them down. The sooner they sorted this out, the sooner they’d be out of one another’s hair.

“Donna!” He called out, turning toward the door. Donna popped her head in a moment later, brows raised expectantly. “I need you to look an address up for me.”

“It’s in the West Village.”

Harvey’s mouth worked wordlessly for a couple of seconds before he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, “Mike?”

“You shouldn’t have hired a super genius if you didn’t want him using that big brain.”

“I was hoping he would use it for good, not evil.”

“Oh, trust me, he is. Anything else?”

“Lunch?”

“It’s on the way.”

Of course it was.

“This is everything?”

“Yes. I checked and double-checked the list that you gave me before I left.”

You nodded, planting your hands on your hips and looking over six industrial-sized trash bags that contained what you hoped were your tide-over funds.

“The jewelry’s in there, too?”

“Hey,” Aaron stepped closer to you, resting his hand on your shoulder. “When I say I got everything, I mean I got everything. I was this close to snagging a couple of light fixtures.”

You laughed a little, nodding and leaning into the touch a little. You’d worked with Aaron Delaney for over five years at Hayward Realty. You’d hoped that he wouldn’t be in Steven’s camp in the divorce, and when you’d reached out to find out when Steven would definitely be at the office, Aaron had quickly jumped on your bandwagon. It had taken nearly three weeks, but he had come through. Not only had he told you when Steven would be out, but he’d offered to go into the apartment and get things for you. You hadn’t heard a thing from Mike in a couple of weeks, so you could only hope that everything was going smoothly on his end, but these bags would go a long way to bolstering your bitten budget.

“You want my help cataloging it?” He offered. You shook your head a little.

“No, god, you've done enough—and helped me lug this up six flights. Besides, Steven will be suspicious if you’re out of the office for too long—you’re too good an employee to be out of pocket for more than a few minutes. But if you’d like to be enlisted in mole duty going forward, I’m gonna need you to have your ear to the ground over there.”

“You’ve got it.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Text me if you need anything.”

“Will do, yeah. And thanks again, Aaron. Seriously.”

“Keep your chin up, hon.”

“Yeah,” You mumbled, turning back to the trash bags as Aaron headed for the door. God, you didn’t even know what was where. It was probably best to just go bag by bag, and hope all of the suits were together. You could hang the outfits up, take a picture, post it on the app that you were using to resell your luxury clothing. You could—and probably would—keep at least a couple of things for yourself, but you couldn’t go crazy. You’d need suits for your divorce settlement, and possibly for court…And for whatever the hell you wound up doing once this was all over.

Because it would be over, eventually. There was a life for you on the other side of all of this, and you had to keep reminding yourself of that. Things would get easier, but right now, it all just…Fucking sucked. You had moved the few things that you had into the studio apartment, including your dresser, a bookshelf, a few books, and your favorite Eames lounge chair and reading lamp. You’d had to get a new bed—a full was all that you could use without overwhelming the space; you got a metal frame on Amazon that would get the job done, and you’d bought and built three racks for your clothing. You still hadn’t found an affordable couch, but you had found a nice oak grain bedside table on the sidewalk, with a handwritten looseleaf sign taped to it that read, FREE!!

You hadn’t had the chance to paint or put any personalizing touches on the space besides your furniture—no art, or knick knacks. The space was nearing functional, but you were certain that unpacking all of your clothing was going to make that a hell of a lot more difficult.

You crouched down in front of the first bag, untying it and opening it. You could see some Scanlan Theodore, some Tuckernuck, some Bergdorf Goodman. This bag was already pretty promising. You sighed, taking the first dress out and wafting the fabric out. It didn’t need to be ironed or steamed, which was a blessing. You were already dreading how long this was going to take, but hell, at least it would give you something to do that wasn’t staring down the barrel of your dead-end future—

Okay. Okay, so not helpful, so not the time. You reached into your pocket, pulling your phone out of your pocket to find a podcast to listen to. There had to be something that you could listen to that would distract you from the monotony of filing and sorting your clothing out. You settled on one of your favorites before you began sorting through the first bag. You were right—a couple of Scanlans, two Tuckernucks, three Bergdorf Goodman’s–

Your sorting was interrupted by a knock on your door. You frowned, pushing yourself up. What else could be left? It had to be good if Aaron had lugged something else up six floors. You pushed yourself off of the floor, brushing the dust off of your sweatpants.

“Alright, Delaney, what’d you forget?” You asked as you approached the door and tugged it open.

The sight of Harvey Specter standing on your doorstep made your stomach want to violently unseat your lunch. His gaze swept over you critically, taking sight of you in your comfy clothes. Between the ratty old shirt, the sweats, and your fluffy socks, you were a far, far cry from the way that he’d become accustomed to seeing you in his office.

“Can I, uh…” He peered over your shoulder, nodding inside. “Can I come in?”

“I thought I was going to be hearing from Mr. Ross.”

“Mike is busy, and we need to talk.”

You couldn’t imagine what the hell you and Harvey needed to talk about. You didn’t want to let him in; you knew that what Harvey was about to see wasn’t what he was surely expecting. Your grip tightened on the handle before you drew in a deep breath nodding, “Sure.”

It was worse than you imagined. Harvey hardly got two steps inside before he stopped fully. Well, to be fair, there wasn’t a ton of space for him to wander around and explore; between the bed, the armchair, and the trash bags, there wasn’t much room for him to move around. You shut the door and pointedly cleared your throat, trying to jog him from his shock. As he faced you again, you could see him trying to mask his surprise, his brows drawing down over his eyes as he turned to a file in his hand.

“You have an offer on the Park Slope house.”

“Why didn’t I get a call from my broker?”

“I asked to deliver the news myself.”

You frowned a little, taking hold of the file and flipping it open. Your eyes widened at the sight of a check paperclipped to the top of the files—for frighteningly beneath asking price.

“I said I wanted it in cash.”

“...I know that,” Harvey spoke slowly, as if he was dealing with a particularly difficult and over-caffeinated child. “That is a good faith deposit from the buyer.”

“They’ve signed?” Your hands tighten around the file as your stomach flipped with excitement. “I didn’t ask my broker for a good faith deposit.”

“No, I had it baked into the contract.”

Your gaze flitted to Harvey, annoyance and admiration growing in equal measure.

“I…Appreciate that,” You finally managed. “But in the future, please run any changes like that by me before you speak to my broker.”

Harvey nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Understood.”

“Thanks.” You closed to file, certain that if you didn’t, you’d just spend your time staring at the check—at your first lifeline in this whole mess. “Anything else?”

“We need to get on a more even footing.”

“...I don’t know what you mean.”

Harvey gave you a chastising frown, one that would’ve made you wilt long ago—but now, you simply shook your head and shrugged.

“I don’t,” You insisted. “Unless you mean that you’ll stop out your thinly veiled barbs about what you think you know about me.”

“I remember more than you think.”

“I’m not the woman that you left at the altar, Harvey.” Your admission and reminder left a bitter taste in your mouth. You had to force yourself to hold his gaze, even as his expression flooded with discomfort. You could see him desperately trying to push it away as his retort bubbled up:

“And I’m not the man that left you there!”

“No?” You laughed openly. “Because this all looks pretty fucking familiar. You’re a shark, Harvey, and you’re a dick. Lucky for the both of us, that’s exactly what I need you to be right now.”

Harvey’s jaw tightened, and you could see his hands curling into fists before he shoved them into his pockets.

“Let’s get one thing perfectly clear,” He seethed, taking a small step closer, “What I do for you over the course of this case is purely because of my reputation in this city. I’m going to do my damndest to get you the best out of all of these properties, but do not think for a moment that the job I do comes from any interest, any compassion, anything worth a damn.”

“What compassion? Anyone with compassion would’ve at least had the grace to do better than a goddamn post-it note in my bridal suite that just said ‘sorry’. It didn't even look like your handwriting!” You loosed a hysterical laugh that had been building in your throat as he spoke. “Or did you not even want that in there? Maybe one of my bridesmaids scrawled it to keep me from just throwing myself off the fucking roof!”

Harvey’s expression flickered again, and you saw some of the color drain from his annoyance-flushed cheeks. You turned away, stomach roiling with embarrassment and irritation.

“Thanks for the file,” You managed, forcing a steadiness into your tone. “Going forward, I really do think it’s for the best that you communicate with me through Mr. Ross.”

“Gladly. Have a nice day, Mrs. Hayward.”

Three long strides, the creak of the door opening, and then slamming shut. You flinched at the sound, fingers tightening around the file, trying to focus on the check.

One hundred thousand dollars was an amazing start. One hundred thousand dollars could go toward your rent, your expenses, buy you some time. Maybe you could get a nice bottle of gin—or a couple of the cheap bottles the size of your head, the stuff that tasted like paint thinner and knocked you flat on your ass until morning.

Maybe you could sell your clothing during the day and quietly slip into oblivion in the evening. You had nothing better to do with your nights. Almost none of your so-called friends had reached out after the news had broken—likely making the choice to side with Steven. He was the one that still had the money, of course, the position in society. His name was on the door, not yours.

Your name was on a 12 month lease, and on a check for one hundred thousand dollars.

sorry

Lowercase, hurriedly scrawled, ink smudged. You could still see the slightly crumpled post-it that had been sitting on your honeymoon suite vanity when you’d returned after waiting at the back of the venue for almost an hour.

Harvey hadn’t copped to writing it. Maybe he didn’t want to—or maybe he really didn’t write it. Maybe he wasn’t sorry. Maybe he saw the shitshow that your life had become and was glad that he’d gotten out early.

You glanced around the apartment, eyeing the row of trash bags, the rickety furniture. At this moment, you couldn’t blame him.

You tossed the file onto your bedside table before walking back to the trash bags. Bag by bag, then steam what needed to be steam, then sort by brand. Plan of attack. You could get that man out of your head.

That man—which one was worse to think about just now—Steven or Harvey?

You shook your head, forcing yourself to dismiss both of them for the morning. You didn’t have any more time for what could’ve been’s. You had here, you had now.

And you had shit to do.

“Okay, two things,” Mike announced as he rounded into Harvey’s office. “One, the purchase agreement for the brownstone is signed and the payment is on the way to her bank account. There’s also an offer for the apartment building in the upper East Side. Two—“

“What do you mean, two?” Harvey frowned. “That’s already two things.”

“Fine, three—“

“Super genius and he can’t even count—“

“I got six emails from Steven Hayward’s representation this morning, disputing ownership of all of the twenty original flagged properties.”

“Damnit,” Harvey hissed. “Even the houses she didn’t know about?”

“No, so far, they’ve been conspicuously left off of the list.”

“Where are we with those inspections?”

“In progress, should hear back by the end of the week.”

“Good.”

Mike nodded, and Harvey returned his attention to his laptop. At least, he did until he realized that Mike hadn’t left the room.

“Something else that you need to say?” Harvey prodded.

“Aren’t you going to ask how she is?”

“Why would I need to know that?”

“Come on, Harvey.”

“She’s a client, Mike.”

“A client that you were going to marry!”

“And I didn’t marry her. What do you think that says about my wealth of feeling for her?”

Mike sighed heavily through his nose, muttering, “Alright.” He began to turn away, heading for the door. “Well, if you had asked, I would’ve told you that she’s putting on a brave face, but she’s getting to the end of her rope.”

“Well I didn’t ask, but thank you for that poetic and poignant diagnosis.”

“You have to go.”

“Of all of my priorities right now, the gala is not one of them,” You insisted. “I’ve got about a hundred more urgent matters right now.”

“Make this one,” Jessica insisted, leaning back against her desk, her arms folding across her chest. “You know how badly you’ll be lampooned if you don't turn up.”

“And I’ll be lampooned if I do show up. Besides, I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Wear something you’ve worn before.”

“I don’t have most of those pieces anymore.”

“Then rent something.”

“You do remember that Steven is being honored this year?”

“All the more reason for you to show your face.”

“Jessica—“

“What’s your plan.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your plan—when this is all over? Are you going to go back into real estate?”

“…It’s crossed my mind.”

“You know that they will never let you back in if you slink out the back door and try to come in through the front again. They’ve rescinded your keys, honey. May as well stay in the house as long as you can.”

“This metaphor is beginning to exhaust me.”

Jessica grinned. “I better see your name on the RSVP list by the end of the day.”

“Since when do you have access to that information?”

“I have my sources.”

You heard two knocks, followed by the increasingly comforting sound of Mike’s voice: “Sorry to interrupt.”

“Not at all,” Jessica waved him inside. “I’m hoping for a fruitful update.”

“Well,” Mike gave a small, nervous smile as he joined the two of you. “The good news is that purchase for the brownstone is moving through the channels, and there are interested buyers for the upper East Side apartment building. Unfortunately —“ The word made your gut swoop. “—Your ex-husband has come out of the woodwork. He’s trying to stake a claim on the properties, and on a hold co. We’re monitoring the situation,” Mike added before either you or Jessica could speak, “But I wanted to make you aware of what you could be facing sometime soon.”

You nodded, wringing your hands where they were folded in your lap.

“I appreciate the update.”

“Of course.”

“Why isn’t Harvey relaying this to me himself?” Jessica frowned. You raised your brows, glancing toward Mike, and fighting back a wave of amusement at his blatant deer-in-headlines expression.

“He had a—meeting,” He flubbed before jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “I should, uh–”

Jessica’s brows raise skeptically, but she nods, and you bite back a laugh as Mike leaves the room with a measured hurry.

“...Why do I have the feeling that the two of you are keeping something from me?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” You shrugged, pushing yourself out of your seat. “Now if you excuse me, I have some clothes to package—”

“And a gala outfit to find. I understand.”

You turned from Jessica’s smug grin, rolling your eyes as she tacked on,

“And don’t forget to get your nails done!”

You rounded out of the office, pulling up short as you slammed into someone.

“Oh! Fuck, sorry!” You breathed as their hands landed on your hips to steady you.

“...Don’t worry about it.” Harvey’s flat tone turned your stomach. You cleared your throat, stepping back and out of his hands.

“I’ll watch where I’m going.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

You gave a firm nod as you skirted around him, face flooding with embarrassed heat as you strode toward the elevators.

The gala. You’d completely forgotten about the gala until Jessica had brought it up. Six months ago, planning the evening had been the center of your world. You’d put a deposit down for a custom dress, had it fitted. Steven had asked you to coordinate a cocktail party for the two hours beforehand—an intimate gathering for 150 of your closest friends and associates. You sighed, leaning back against the hard subway seat and gazing at your appearance in the window opposite you.

You could just see it now—the who’s who of New York’s real estate scene all swanning up to the penthouse, lounging fashionably, eating the hors d'oeuvres that you’d chosen and drinking the champagne that you’d ordered by the case…

…The champagne that you had ordered…

Come to think of it, those contracts all had your name on them, your contact information. Steven hadn’t been involved with a damn thing, save for the use of his credit card to put down deposits. He never did—he expected you to handle all of the coordination on the day as well; he would swan in an hour after the party started and do his scant duties as the host.

A devilish grin curled your lips. You were sure you still had all of the confirmations in your email. You could cancel all of it—the ice sculpture, the caterer, the champagne…Well, maybe you could divert one case to your new apartment, and cancel the rest.

Oh, you could really see it now—Steven seething as he frantically checked his emails for any hint of vendors, any phone number or email that he could call to find out what the hell happened to the party that was to-be. You were certain that the tailor still had your dress—and you had a check for a hundred thousand dollars that you could dip into for a manicure.

You stood as the train pulled into your station. You were suddenly looking forward to the gala.

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @gina239 ; @technicallykawaiisoul ; @coldheart-lonelysoul ; @kathrinemelissa ; @jacxx2 ; @pillowjj ; @chanaaaannel ; @avampirescholar ; @kmc1989

#Harvey Specter x Reader #Harvey Specter x You #Harvey Specter/Reader #Harvey Specter/You #Harvey Specter fic #Harvey Specter imagine #Bad Faith

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slyblonder · 8 months ago

Text

King for a Day

MDNI

Youth Pastor!Mingi x GN!Reader

warnings: sex(gross ikr), its just a blowjob, mentions of fingering, throat fucking, spit mention, hair pulling, tears (Dacryphilia), i cant think of anything else ngl

word count: 1.9k (first long fic les gooo)

“You might want to get an early start on your Hail Marys then.”

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit..Amen.”

Following along you made a cross on your body. This will not be the only time you do this today, and it certainly won't be the last.Mingi and his father had just moved into town, the new pastor and his insanely hot youth pastor son. You had to have him. You needed him like no other. “Lord forgive me for what I do later.” Fixing your dress as you got up, smiling at all the families that passed by you.

You were never the religious kind, you never participated in church, hell you rarely even came to service. But as soon as you caught a look of Mingi you were already in your closet picking out an outfit. You’d always try your best to match him. His outfits were very simple and appropriate but also so slutty somehow. It could be all his rings and chains but once you start thinking about it your mind wonders, thinking about how his chains would look dangling in your face. You shook those thoughts out of your head, saying bye to the last few families to leave.

Upon Mingis arrival to your town you were quick to sign up as an assistant. You didn't care about them damn kids nor the lord but here you were every sunday, helping by his side teaching about the lord.

“Thank you so much for your help today. I know it was a lot harder since we had a full house.” Mingi spoke, making you jump a bit. That’s the other thing about him that had you so enamored..His voice. It was so deep and husky but so soothing. You could listen to him for hours.

“It's no problem Mingi, you did great like always. I’m just happy we let out early today.” You moved out of the pew to now stand face to face with him. “I get to hang out with my favorite person.”

Mingi looked at you with confusion and sight shock, pointing at himself. “M-me?”

Despite his “cold” and “dark” image Mingi was a very gentle and even cute person. Any and everyone could see that. “Yes, you. Why do you think I help you out so much? Why I’m always by your side? Why I’m always at your beck and call?” You watched as his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. Cute. Walking closer to him he seemed frozen, closing his eyes briefly as if waiting for something eagerly.

“You’re so cute like this…flustered and pretty.” Walking closer you stopped right in front of him, leaning up to his ear with a smirk. “If only the heavens knew how beautiful you look right now.”

“y/n I…w-what's going o-on…” You placed a quick kiss on his cheek, watching as his eyes popped open. He looked as if he saw a ghost but the tint of pink never left his face.

“Ever since you knocked on our door holding that gift basket, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You looked so fucking good Mingi. I wanted you, I needed you. So I signed up to help, anything to be closer to you. Not only did my urges to have you get stronger, I started to grow feelings for you.”

Mingi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This is everything he ever dreamed of. Yeah, he was the pastor's son and had to keep up an innocent persona;but it was quite the opposite. As much as he was devoted to his faith he could never shake the thought of you ever since he saw you. He wanted to hold you, take in your scent…devour you. Mingi knew it would be wrong and go against his faith, but he couldn’t help but imagine such sinister acts with you.

“You’re very bad at hiding your gaze, Min. I see you stare and used to think nothing of it. 'oh, he's not looking at me, he's just giving his attention like usual…’ until I bent down and saw you staring at my chest.” You took a step back and watched his reaction with a smirk. His hands were balled up, his face still a visible pink, and a much more visible print in his pants appeared. You could tell from the way he stood there he was virgin but not in the slightest innocent.

“I- I tried to hide it…”

“Not well enough.”

Mingi bit his lip before starting to mumble.

“Wouldn’t you like to feel like a king for a day or even forever? I think you liked it.” You spoke with a small laugh moving to sit Mingi in the pew. He sat there and watched your every move, waiting for you to pounce on him.

“Y/n please… I can’t get the thought of you out of my head. I ache for you.” These words sounded like music to your ears. Mingi wanted you, ached for you, needed you. Moving into the pew you sat on his lap, feeling how big he was instantly and watching him let out a soft whimper.

“You might want to get an early start on your hail marys then.” You placed small and slow kisses on his neck, moving up to his jaw, sucking lightly. He sounded so fucking needy, and you to wanted to hear him scream in pleasure but decided to spare him.

“H-hail Mary, full of grace…The L-lord is with thee fuck y/n-“

“Don’t stop, keep going.” You began to bite at his skin, leaving small marks that would disappear pretty quickly. “Blessed art t-thou amongst wo- ahh…women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” Mingi finally allowed his hands to rest at your waist, gripping tightly with each bite. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us s-sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.”

“Amen indeed, I can’t believe I have you all to myself Min. You sound so pretty under me. You’re already so hard for me, I think I should do something about that huh?” You laughed a little as Mingi began to nod very quickly, begging to feel something more. Moving off his lap you found a way to kneel in front of him. It was a little uncomfortable but such a small price to pay for what was in store. Mingi took a second to look at you, taking in how pretty you looked in front of him. He mindlessly reached for your cheek and smiled, knowing there was no going back once you started and he was okay with that.

You wasted no time and began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, biting your lip as you could see his print more and more. Lifting his hips Mingi helped you pull his boxers and pants down to his mid thigh, giving you more than enough access. Mingi was big. Bigger than most you’ve been with, you were determined to take all you were given. “Please…do something…” Looking up at him doe eyed you licked a stripe up his shaft, smiling as you finally got a taste of him.

Licking up his precum you took as much of him as you could, moaning and slightly gagging at how full your mouth was. Mingis hand quickly moved to hold onto one of the ponytails, bucking his hips at the sudden warmth. Your mouth felt amazing, he was sure he'd cum in no time if you kept it up.. “Your mouth feels better than I imagined fuck..” Mingi moaned, throwing his head back trying his best to keep as quiet as possible. The worst part is if someone walked in right now, he would care less. All his prayers were being answered right before him.

Tears ran down the side of you face as you let Mingi fuck your throat. He was a lot more rough than you imagined but damn did it turn you on. You let your hands travel between your legs, slipping into your underwear and inserting two fingers to fill yourself up more. Feeling so stretched out you let out a moan sending vibrations up Mingis cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Lord, please, please please forgive me.” Hearing him beg for forgiveness turned you on so much, inching close to your own release.

You sped up your pace, fingering yourself fast and sucking off Mingi even faster. Every cell in Mingis body felt like it was on fire; He's never felt this kind of pleasure before and hopes that this will never be the last. Mingi grabbed onto both your pigtails, practically hunched over your body. If anyone had walked in right this moment they would just think he was praying. “yn i-im cumming! im cumming oh—oh my god…thank you, thank y-you.”

Cumming down your throat felt amazing to Mingi. From your face stained with tears, spit, and cum; your legs sore and shaking from cumming so hard. You both stayed like that for a second, Mingi finally sitting back breathing heavily. You lifted off his cock, making sure you swallowed everything and taking a deep breath.

“You have a thing for being rough, it's hot. You should also be thanking me, I just gave you the best blowjob ever.” You smiled, moving to place the two fingers you used to fuck your self in Mingis mouth. “A small taste of what's to come. Literally.”

You laughed and used his legs to help you get up, sitting right next to him in the pew. “Y-you want to do this again?” Mingi asked, shocked since he has yet to catch his breath properly.

“I told you I can make you feel like a king for a day, or forever. I think we both want forever…unless I'm wrong?” You searched to see where your bag was, reaching into the pew behind you and pulling it into your lap and searching for wipes to clean you both up.

“No! I mean, you're not wrong…I would really like that,I just feel like I'm still dreaming…” Taking the wipe he was handed, he cleaned up any excess spit and around his thighs before pulling up his boxers and pants.

“Dream or not, I’m all yours Mingi. I’m heavily devoted to you.” He looked at you with so much awe and lust, wiping your stray tears and smiling softly.

“I’m more than willing to sin for you, dream and reality.” And he meant that, no amount of repentance will make up for it and he was okay with that.

“You should come over this weekend, My parents are gonna be out of town. We can see how devoted we are to each other, like the lord wants.” You spoke soft, moving to whisper into his ear before pulling back and giving him a quick peck. “See you soon Mingi, or should I say pastor Song.”

Mingi watched as you picked up your bag and waved bye with such a sinister grin, you truly were a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He sat there and thought back on everything he just experienced, chuckling at how lucky he just got.His prayers were definitely answered. Thanks God. He shook his head and moved to kneel down, folding his hands and bowing his head. Might as well get an early start right? “Hail Mary, forgive me, blood for blood, hearts beating…”

©️slyblonder

——————

a/n :I FINALLY DROPPED THIS FIC OMG!! Sorry i took so long yall, life started turning me every way but loose and then also starting a new job drained me. But enjoy I hope yall like it, if not also lmk you hate it🗿 okay byee love youu

tags:

@slvtiny @pandoora-the-pink-goth @pearltinyy

#ateez #mingi x reader #mingi smut #song mingi #mingi #ateez mingi #mingi fluff #mingi scenarios #mingi fanfic #song mingi smut #ateez drabbles #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #slyblonder

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granolawriting · 1 year ago

Text

"Do you have a boyfriend?" •°. *࿐

pairing: no breakout! Cowboy costume!Joel x fem reader

Summary: Your best friend holds a halloween party at her house, where the often brooding Joel you often disregard adorns a new attire that sparks something in you. And he makes it clear he feels the same.

Content warning: 18+ NSFW, age gap (college senior and 50 year old), grey hairs so hes about that old, picture part 2 joel cause he’s the sexiest, porn with lots of plot, p in v, creampie, HEAVY praise, you guys are wearing matching costumes on accident, he fucks you IN costume if you're wondering, nice aftercare, pet names (darling, sweetheart, doll), southern hospitality misconstrued for shyness, sarah is your best friend

word count: 7.4k (holy shit)

masterlist

A/N: christ almighty. This took me all day. it has clouded my mind, overtaken my senses. finishing the final lines of this fic made me feel raw, completly finished. I have never written a fic this long in my entire life I'll be so honest. Anyways, I've been delving so deep into pedro stuff recently that reignighting the Joel adgenda made me quiver at night thinking about it. ANYWAYS. THANK YOU FOR 200 FOLLOWERS!!!! confetti thrown everywehere.

and in other news, I hope u enjoy the 4th installment of my kinktober list, I'll see you all again on the 20th with some bondage!Joel.... Make sure if you like my work to check out my requests/comissions or my ko-fi!!!

P.S. The title was made with scream in mind but since I changed up him from wearing a mask to a cowboy because christ how could I not I decided to just keep it as is.

Monotonous noise of worn out wheels against tired linoleum floors squeak softly at the turns of your cart against the rows of aisles that comprised the small store. Dimly lit bulbs illuminated the rows of supplies— plates upon masks upon streamers of different colors and themes overtake your senses as the whole display seems ostentatious and unflattering to you.

“How's this for a Halloween costume?”

A wolf mask hides the face of an otherwise non-furry Sarah Miller. Who seemed to not share the same sentiment as you regarding distaste for the design.

“I don't know, how are you going to drink if you have a mask on your face?”

“Straws exist.”

“I'm not convinced”

She takes it off with melodrama, sullen disdain for your lack of halloween spirit as you push the cart further down the aisle.

A soft squeak of tires indicates a stop in your steps as you stand before a wall of costumes— what you needed more than anything to hold an answer for you.

Eyes tracing up and down the rows floor to ceiling coated with cheaply made, scantily clad costumes makes your vision blur. Until it lands on a single item; one that stood out to you above all else.

“A cowgirl?”

Sarah sounds unimpressed. Eyeing the plastic wrapped costume labeled “ride my rodeo” with a model on the front wearing small red and white plaid tied to her front, small jean shorts cut at most with an inch’s inseam, and a cowboy hat— sold separately.

“It's the best I've got. It's either this, or I repeat last year’s costume.”

“You are not dressing up as Adam Sandler to my party.”

You put the bag in the cart.

Ever since moving to college, your career as a party-goer has been less than prolific, as a freshman assuming that time away from home was means to let yourself go, slowly turned into a reluctant senior year where parties were oftentimes the last thing you wanted to do on a given day. However, as Sarah lived in the area, she at the very least dragged you to her neighborhood functions. Which, was marginally better than what any Greek life could pull together. And as your car pulls into the empty spot within the miller’s lot, you become privy as to why; because you always had to help put it together.

As smooth concrete lays beneath your car while you park, the truck parked beside you was none other than Joel Millers— Sarah's bachelor dad.

Bachelor was an overstatement, a compliment that wasn't quite applicable to him. He wasn't looking for love, a bachelor without a cause, he was purposefully distant. A brood coated his face from eyes to lips that only ever contorted to something positive in the sight of his daughter. A contractor seemingly married to his work he had no means to find love. A part of you wonders when the last time he even had anyone was, romantically or sexually. Or even how he got ahold of one to make Sarah happen in the first place. You could never picture Joel as someone sexually active, if Sarah told you she was immaculately conceived you would have believed her.

The click of boots against concrete greets the Millers doorstep as your cowgirl boots are adorned, the rest of your uncomfortable costume shoved in a bag across your shoulder as means to at least dress the house in comfort before having to walk around in costume for hours on end.

Walking directly in you’re faced with a Mr. Miller, with a similar idea. He wore nothing at all, costume-wise. Something that you wish you could have done, as every year he seems to escape the wrath of Sarah’s demands regarding spirit, to be met with the regular weathered jeans and loose long sleeves. Standing tall upon a stepladder was he already being put to work however, thick fingers pushing small thumbtacks into the open space of his home, orange and black streamers littering the front room as he works.

His head turns to you at the sound of his door being opened and shut,

“Well, what’re you supposed ta’ be?”

His eyes size you up and down, southern drawl brings sound to the quiet of the room, only otherwise broken by soft halloween music traveling its way downstairs from Sarah’s bedroom. If there was one attractive thing about him, it was his accent. The way he would slur his words together, the charming yet teasing air to everything he says. Having moved to Austin 4 years ago you would’ve thought you’d have grown used to it by now, and you have, besides Joel. The age that honeyed his voice like old whisky was unprecedented, and never paralleled by any other man you’d yet to mean in your time there.

“Haven’t put it on yet Mr. Miller. But I can see that your costume is quite the classic.”

“Oh quit it. Now, Sarah asks that you go upstairs when ya’ came in. Bosses orders.”

You give a stern look to him and nod as though you were to be sent on the front lines, and he only gives a small chuckle before returning to his work.

“Oh my god you’re finally here. Look—”

She opens the door in hurried fashion, and quickly centers herself in the middle of the room to do a spin for you. A small gust of wind as she twirled letting her skirt float as she moved to reveal her outfit. Bells and jingles fill the room at the movement of her body.

“Does it look too corny? Can you tell who I am?”

Looking her up and down, large bundles of curly hair hiding a stuffed serpent around her neck as a green top wraps around the back of it, paired with loose bells and metal pieces adorning a small blue skirt with layers of tulle, it was quite obvious who she was meant to be if you were born prior to 2006.

“Britney spears. And you look perfect, but don't you think it’s a little early to try on your costume?”

Her eyes pierce you with only the gaze of a woman who thought you clearly misunderstood what was going on.

“The party is in 2 hours. I've yet to even do my makeup, or take photos before I get wasted. Time is of the essence. Here, put your costume on and help get ready with me.”

Sarah, despite being in the same grade as you, was marginally less mature. Mostly driven by her intelligence boosting her into higher grades when she was younger, she was around 2 years younger than you despite graduating the same year as you. And despite her efforts sometimes her stress levels were purely driven by the fact she was barely 21. Still obsessed and enamored with arguably, menial things. Though through her age, you always attempted to discern her fathers. With grey growing into the roots of his head, speckling his beard as it traced the lines of his jaw, you had ventured to guess he was around 50.

…

Ding Dong

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh—”

“It's okay Sarah, I'll get it.”

Feet scrambling up and out of her bedroom, you quickly find your way to the front door as the clock shone at 7:30, cursing the people who find joy in showing up so early to what is not a dinner party. Dressed in your cowgirl costume do you answer the door, expecting either trick or treaters or an older neighbor, does someone entirely different greet you as it opens.

Joel towers before you within the doorway. He no longer wore the loose fitting shirts and jeans omnipresent on his person, moreover it was swapped for a much more form fitting attire. A cowboy hat for starters, sat upon his head of hair, usually messy and combed back did it now fall in front of his face, sculpting his jaw as it fell to the sides of chocolate eyes. Strands peppered his face as you took him in, a worn cowboy hat that complimented the tan of his skin, equally as sun bleached did it seem almost natural for him to adorn it. Followed by a small toothpick sticking from his lips, did it draw focus to the pink of them, shaped and contrasted by the peppered beard freshly trimmed, longer pieces of hair falling over his top lip to establish a thicker mustache that became the centerpiece of his look. As your eyes trailed down the rest of his body, you’re met with a form fitting tan tuscan button up as his underlayer, slightly unbuttoned at the top to reveal his chest lines do you notice fabric rolled to his elbows to reveal thick hairy forearms that held muscle visible unflexed. Trailing up to see the definition of bicep within the confines of cotton fabric almost bursting at the muscle he carried, only to be met with an overlayer of a dark brown vest seemingly made of corduroy or something similar, tightly buttoned around his waist to accentuate it's contrast to the broadness of his shoulders. The pants worn in tandem with the outfit were a chocolate brown, thick leather-like material clung to his quads as they tapered at the ends of his calves, square toed cowboy boots finding home beneath the heavy fabric of his pants. Around his waist was there a detailed belt, a worn leather belt held up the tie of his pants, and to his hip was a holster, housing a small toy gun that fell to his side as his hip stayed slightly cocked at the entrance. His thumb looped in the side of his pocket as he stood waiting at the front door. The scent of cologne fills your senses as it breeds with his natural scent to produce what was to you somewhat of an aphrodisiac. This was no longer the grumpy old man that wore clothes a size too large because he was too lazy to check the charts, no longer the father of your best friend— in this moment he was nothing but insatiably attractive.

“Oh, Mr. Miller I— don't you have a key?”

Only now do you notice the look he gave you. The equal look of awe as his eyes unabashedly trailed your body and it's curved. Much more revealing than him though equally as hidden from what he wanted. You watched as lips became slightly pursed, taking in the fit of your jeans and the curve of your hips, eyes falling for far too long upon your top and how it complimented you.

He skips a beat.

“Oh— uh, sorry kid. Though Sarah’d be comin’ down. Wanted to show her my outfit. S’ the last halloween we’re gonna have fer a while.”

You feel yourself heat up, his eyes connecting with yours have a whole new meaning to it now. He seemed embarrassed, even, as his eyes darted from side to side, unable to connect with yours for more than a few seconds as he asked for his daughter.

“She's still upstairs getting ready. Do you, do you want me to call her down?”

“No, no that won’t be necessary. ‘Supose I’ll wait fer her inside.”

It takes you a moment to register that as means for entry into his own house as you stood there agape in the center of the doorframe. Though quickly do you move your body to make room for him, as he dips his head to you in thanks before heavy boots hit the wooden floors of the downstairs in his entry.

The tension that builds within the room is deafening as you both stand there in silence. Unable to remove yourself from his proximity does the air fill with feelings foreign and impure.

“That’s a um, nice costume ya’ got there.”

Joel breaks the silence with soft spoken words as he begins to pour a drink in the kitchen. Though not looking at you, the image of you within his mind pierced the darkest parts of his consciousness with glaring extremity as he felt himself grow hot in so many layers.

“This? Oh, Sarah, she made me do it. But uh, I really like yours as well. It, it suits you well. And we��re matching, that's funny.”

This was your poor attempt at flirting with a mind so foggy with memories completely turned on their head as your perception of Joel did that same.

“WHO IS ITTTT!!!!!!!!!”

Sarah screams from the closed door of her upstairs bedroom. Clearly your time downstairs was limited before she began even more antics from the confines of her unkempt bedroom.

He hands you a glass, amber liquid sloshes upon crackling ice fills up a quarter of the cylindrical glass.

“Hope ya’ have fun t’night sweetheart. Make sure Sarah’s doin’ alright.”

You flash him a shy smile as you take your drink to go, climbing the hardwood stairs leading to her bedroom as quickly as you can without spilling it.

“Who was it? What took you so long! Is that whisky?”

“Can you ask one question at a time?”

“Well I already asked all of em so what's the point?”

“Just for future reference.”

“Maybe. Well?”

“your dad forgot his key, I helped him inside, he gave me a drink. Tis the story.”

She looks you up and down as the recollection of her father instills newfound meekness at the mention of him.

“Ok weirdo. Here, take candids.”

…

Halloween music blares from speakers as the party comes to a head, the myriad of costumes all still holding creases from the cheap packaging they were purchased in become clustered together as the drinks you have begin to get to you. The smell of alcohol and pumpkin fill the room as a cacophony of laughter takes you out of a spell of staring thankfully focused on the floor and not upon unsuspecting persons.

The only person who seemed to stand out amongst the crowds of duplicate costume and cheesy innuendos was a certain Mr. Miller— a prolific wallflower that only hosted these things as a means to keep Sarah close in situations like this. For if not here, she’d be somewhere else doing the same thing.

Eyes scoured the home every few minutes, looking to catch a glimpse of Joel within his costume, politely smiling at guests through small talk or taking slow drinks of his flask.

“Hey you!!!”

You’re startled by the sound of Sarah's boom from across the room as she calls for you, a caramel hand stuck high in the air to signal you to her, drawing you out of the trance of Joel’s small movements.

You walk to her with careful steps, trying not to step on capes or trailing costumes in the process.

“What’s up with you! I’ve barely seen you at all tonight! I know you’re not a party girl anymore but please, try and live it up for me!”

Something catches her eye as she speaks to you, her smiling face turning into an O with excitement;

“And—”

She points behind you.

“I think that guy over there is checking you out. Go have fun! Let me hear all about it later!”

Later. You forgot you’d promised to sleep over at her place too, rehashing the night's events as soon as they came to a close as you always did over the years. Though the first thing that comes to your mind is not the man behind you eyeing you, tacky tie-dye making up for a lackluster hippie costume, but Joel. the man who in fact owned the home you would be sleeping in, the man who kept eyeing you from the side of the room with a gaze you accepted much greater than the mans behind you, and above all, the man that had caught your heart in a way that led to it's seeping out between your thighs.

God, what the fuck is wrong with me? This isn't right it's, it’s Sarah's dad. She’d be heartbroken to even know I think like this.

You decide to throw away all the Clint Eastwood movies you stole from your dad and uninstall red dead redemption 2 when you got home, and blame your attraction solely on your overconsumption of cowboy media. You need a breather.

There's a balcony, facing the back of the property that was off limits to the party guests. Entered only through Joel’s bedroom, anyone would be stupid to test their luck if getting caught within his personal dwellings. However, you were Sarah’s best friend. And was even shown this entryway by Sarah herself— of course when her father was not home. And so you decide with cautious steps to ascend the stairs of his home, the liquor giving way to uncertainty in every step as your eyes are glued to the placement of each foot upon the step one by one. Though as you reach the top with great pride, you venture into Joel’s room, to the left of the stairs as Sarah’s is farther to the right.

You had never been in his room by yourself before, only for a brief moment with Sarah as she showed you one of her favorite spots in the house. It was secluded, of course looking over the backyard she lamented years past as a girl playing within the pool below. She was at the age where she wanted to be independent, but in no way could be yet; and for her that was about 10. And as means to give her her freedom but keep her close, he would watch from the confines of a balcony she paid no note to as the splashing of waves kept her occupied. And he doted on her from a distance.

As you walk through his bedroom, walls covered in guitars and desk littered with wooden sculptures while a record shows to be finished upon his player. Sheets properly made upon his bed, and a sense of intimacy looking around at the things littered upon his shelves and tables. The framed photo of him and his daughter, his old watch he took off specifically for the occasion of dress. The distinct smell of him that enveloped your senses.

Opening the door to the balcony does the feeling of cool air hitting a flustered face sober you everso slightly. Bracing yourself on the edges of the platform, you drift into a calm. The first time you’d felt that since the moment you opened the door for a cowboy Mr. Miller— as you force yourself to call him in your mind.

“Now what do you suppose yer doin’ in my room?”

Your heart sinks. You knew you’d be fine, if caught, but the thing that sinks your heart is the uptick of your heartbeat and the twist in your stomach at the sight of familiar drawl sounding behind you.

You hear heavy boots break the threshold of the doorway into where you stood as the sound of wood upon his feet changed to a scratch of concrete.

He stands next to you, forearms pressed against the railing as his back curves along casual footing aside of you. The moonlight illuminates his face, the curve of his nose complimenting the side profile that gifted you sight at the tufts of hair poking out from the ends of his hat, and the proximity to him gave you the insight to the smell of whisky on his breath as he spoke.

“Needed ta’ take a breather' myself. ‘Spose we had the same idea.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Ya’ having a good time t’night kid?”

“Oh yeah, I haven't seen all that much of Sarah though did you—”

You stop as he shifts his body to turn to you.

“Now, can I be honest with ya’?”

As you turn to look at him, mirroring his stance he dwarfs you in the process, standing at around 6ft the broad of his shoulders shadowing your whole figure.

You nod your head meekly.

“I just— now, I don't know how ta’ say all this quite right. But, don't get me wrong darlin’, I’ve seen the way you’ve been lookin’ fer me all night. I don't know if ya’ think i'm blind or somethin, but i’ve seen ya’ all night, watchin me.”

He pauses for a moment and within that silence does your heart shatter. The whole time you thought that he was eyeing you, looking you up and down, it was just a one sided coincidence that led you to this awkward conversation with a man twice your age. You start;

“Oh listen I'm, I'm so sorry Mr. Miller I must have given the wrong impression or something I don't know i'm just so—”

“Please, call me Joel. And don't hafta’ be so sorry sweetheart. Just callin’ it how I see it.”

He pauses once more as he considers what he’s going to say next, a tinge of uncertainty covering his face as he decides how to follow up.

“And I don't quite mind it, if that's what you’re worried ‘bout.”

The tense of your muscles releases as he continues.

“Just, wanted ta’ tell you you looked quite well yourself that’s all.”

He’s holding back, you can tell by the sway of his legs as he goes on and the grip of his fingers upon the pocket of his pants. The way his gaze averted yours and his glancing upon the floor; for any look at you from your eyes to your body seemed to be hard for him to swallow with proper manners.

Your eyes lock in silence, the pale moonlight illuminating you two as the distance from Joel grows unconsciously closer as you take in his face, his body looming over yours and the prospect of their being more within his mind that he’s willing to give you. The southern hospitality still overshadows his true means.

Rough fingers graze your face, tucking hair behind your ear as it falls in front of your face. And as he leans forward to do so, you lean in as well. Blinded by desire and complicated by liquor and closing the gap between the two of you. Tasting his lips reminiscent of whisky and the frosting of halloween cupcakes you feel him kiss you back for only a moment before shooting himself backwards.

He almost trips over his own feet in adverse reaction, stumbling to the other side of the balcony as you watch him.

“I'm—”

“No darlin’ ya’ don't have to say anything. But I've probably got to get back down to company. Feel free to stay up here ‘s long as you want.”

You watch as he rushes out of the room and the urge to chase after him grows weak as the taste lingers on your lips. The sense of defeat wells in your chest but not entirely, because for a moment he kissed back. A moment you felt him push forward on your lips and savor the flavor of them as you did for him.

Later.

Now, a sleepover with Sarah is what you needed most. A sleepover with her, is a sleepover with Joel right across the way. And the mere feeling of that made your knees weaken with rushing dreams of him.

The party seemed to drag on after that, only satiated by more drinks were you able to bear a night where you could feel him from across the room, sense his body and the heat that came with it. You felt naked for him, utterly exposed at the sight of his eyes trailing you— ones you could only hope followed you the way yours did for him whenever you noticed him with back turned. Drinking in every part of his body as he was none the wiser, finding joy and security within the turn from you as means to make him in for as long as you pleased.

…

“Alright ma’am, seems ya’ need to be goin’ home, me ‘n Sarah got a lot of cleanin to do in the morning.”

An outstretched arm grabs the bicep of a polite Joel, ushering out the final guest that had an affinity for his touch so it seemed.

“Ohhh but darlin when will I see you in such a getup again? Oh i'd never want to leave.”

“‘S a shame I’m about to take it off though ma’am. Now go walk home alright?”

Her eyes hooded everstill she demands even more of him;

“Oh but will you take me? Don't think I trust myself in these conditions.”

He closes his eyes and a heavy sigh leaves his nose.

“‘Spose so ma’am— Sarah, I’ll be right back.”

Her arm loops around his bicep as he leads her out of the house, jealousy overtaking you purely at the close proximity she had to him, for much longer than he ever had with you.

Sarah turns to look at you as you stand a few feet back from the scene, a bemused look painted on your face unconsciously demanding explanation.

“Oh- that was miss carey she uh, she’s had a thing for my dad for years now. It’s kind of funny if I'm being honest, given I didn't see her drink all night.”

You let out a halfhearted laugh for a response, trying to deny the yearning within your stomach to feel Joel’s arm as she did, to touch him, fall over him. Just be close enough to smell him again, feel his warmth. It had felt like decades since the last feeling of him close to you. your body remembering calloused fingers grazing your heated cheek; contrasting with the cold tips that crept upon his hands as the air finally showed hints of the coming winter season.

“Sorry to be a bother, but doya think you could start cleaning up? I’ve gotta get this costume off and shower before I vomit. Thanks!”

As Sarah zips up the stairs all that’s left is you alone, standing within the living room of Joel Miller’s home. One where he could return any second.

You decide to busy yourself with chores, cleaning up stray glasses and bottles littered across the house, fallen decorations and dessert trays now only holding wrappers and trash. It’s a hefty job, one that helps for a short while as the weight of hours prior looms over you with darring intent to seep deep within your mind, allowing visions of the taste of his tongue, the feel of his body pressed against you to consume you. What you would give to feel his nose clash against yours through sloppy kisses, lips puffy with desire as small nips and clashing of teeth is all that can fester in your mind as candy wrappers stuck to the floor fail to give enough distraction anymore to keep Joel off your mind.

“Fuckin’ christ man I— oh.”

You didn't even hear the door open, or the creak of boots as they settled into their first steps within the home. Only the sound of his voice did you perk up with your mind unable to shake your thoughts as you stand before him. Feet away with a small trash bag in your hand.

He continues.

“Didn't know you’d still be here, my apologies.”

“Oh yeah uh, Sarah didn't tell you I was spending the night?”

“Spendin’ the night?”

He repeats you, barely able to hide his shock. Clearly, she hadn't. And as you stand there, beginning to hear the water running for a shower she’s yet to even get into, the tension of the two of you grows immanent as he realizes just how alone he currently is with you.

He didn't know what to do, feeling palms grow sweaty as his desire clashed with his sense of respect and responsibility as a father and his yearning grew too prominent to hide behind the unforgiving stretch of tightly fitted pants he busied himself once more.

“Oh, right then. Well I ‘spose i’ll be in the kitchen if ya’ need me.”

Walking past you with a heavy stride does the scent of him once more draw you to him— something primal, wanton is elicited from him when in close proximity. One that with a room now void of people to maneuver through, you refused to ignore any longer. You followed his quick steps into the kitchen, separating yourself even further from Sarah as the stairs fell into your purview as you ventured deeper into the home.

You greet Joel at the counter of the kitchen where he stood, pouring another drink for himself does the hand gripping his drink suspend mid air at the sight of your trail behind him.

“Ya’ need somethin’?”

You don't know if it’s the liquor talking, or the suspense and tease of a night full of dreaming for a moment like this to arise but you don't allow yourself to beat around the bush anymore. If this old man failed to make a move, you would.

“I do Joel, really— I think we both do.”

He sets the glass down on the counter with a light chink filling the air. His demeanor changes; you watch as both hands lean forward on the counter to inch closer to you, arms outstretched flex his forearms to reveal muscles only garnered by heavy and hard working. His hip cocked to his left as he made unwavering eye contact with you, a smile forming slightly upon his face.

“And what would that be darlin’?”

He made you nervous. This was a first. The mild mannered gentleman that often stood before you, speaking only when necessary and smiling only when compelled to. You always shook him off, an old man not worth anything but a gracious thank you as he catered to you and his daughter when times came. But as you looked upon that man now, face shadowed by a cowboy hat perfectly curved at its edges lining his head, hairs falling in just the right places over the sides of his face, and the hooded eyes coated with lust you found yourself hard to speak. Hard to even think.

“Well? Cmon’ now I ain't got all day.”

He's taunting you. Watching you grow nervous under his gaze as you become the one that can't hold it anymore.

“You, and me I mean. The way you look at me— I want you Joel. And so do you, right?”

Without skipping a beat, Joel retorts

“So come closer then sweetheart. Can't do anything with ya’ so far away.”

your heartbeat picks up again. Shaking steps inch around the bend of the countertop, until you’re no more than an inch away from him. Watching, as he looks down upon you.

“Good girl— now, what’s this about wanting me hm?”

“What?”

“Oh don't play coy darlin’, I love hearin’ you tell me all about how much you need me. The look in those pretty little eyes.”

A coarse finger falls upon your cheek once more, this time lingering there before toying with stray hairs. His fingers trail to your chin and jaw, gripping onto your face to lift it higher to lock dark eyes with his.

“Such a doll. I wanna hear ya’ beg for it.”

You feel a pool of slick well between your thighs, heating and dampening already ruined underwear at the sight of him as the night went on. Though as you listened to the sink in his voice, demanding you to beg for him. You don't even know what you were so needy for, his kiss? That was too little. You wanted all of him, and as knees felt weak at the thought of it— him, and you completely at his disposal. He dwarfed you from this closeness, you realized this as you approached him. He overpowered you in every way, and that made it even harder to say what you wanted. Every semblance of confidence leaves your body as all you want to do now is whatever he demands, whatever he says.

“Please Joel I— I need you. Every part of you. I can't take my eyes off of you. Every part of you looks so perfect no matter the angle or the lighting. Id, i’d never noticed it before but now I…”

The gust of articulation you had quickly dwindled as his face lit up from such compliment, such desperation. You were desperate, needy for him. That much was true. And he knew that.

“Mmm that's all ya’ had to say sweetheart.”

Now he is the one that closes the gap between you, the yearning for his taste finally satiated as your lips collided once more, the fantasies of clashing of teeth against one another with impassioned touch as his hand falls from your face to trail bare stomach. Feeling the large of his hands take in every inch of you with precision, like he had memorized exactly where he wished to be. Feeling as his hands trace down to your hips, and slowly maneuvering up to the wire of your bra.

“Take it off. Please.”

You beg through breathy moans as you stay inside his mouth, taking into him as you refuse to open any gap of distance between the two of you.

“Since ya’ asked so nicely.”

His fingers trace the center of your chest where a simple tie kept together thin fabric that complimented your chest. Unraveling it's knot does he guide it off your arms and onto the floor, a free hand snaking to your back to unhook your bra, leaving you with nothing but the shorts you wore and the hat upon your head to constitute a costume.

His mouth lets up from you to look down on your chest, his palms engulfing them as he kneeds them within his hands, letting the weight of them move with his fingers as he massages them. Fingers slowly trailed down to the mountain of your nipple, toying with them with two fingers as his eye flitted back up to you to watch your reaction. Sighing in relief, your eyes fluttering at the feeling of his cool touch against a body so overwhelmed with heat for him.

He leans in to you, his lips pressing softly against your ear his voice no matter a whisper is still laced with lust creating deep tones otherwise foreign to you to emit from him as he speaks to you;

“God you don't know what you do to me darlin’.”

“Then show me.”

His hands make quick way to the back of your thighs, lifting you up to his hips where you can feel his bulge pressing into you, the thin material of your shorts leaving little room for imagination.

Walking to the dining room adjacent to the kitchen, he sets you on a table that meets him at about hip level, lowering your back onto the wooden finish that often held dinners with the three of you now making way for just the two of you as you watch the buckle of his pants become the main spot of his attention.

“Bet ya’ could feel what you’re doin’ to me sweetheart, you like that hm? Feelin’ my cock against you even for a fuckin second?”

He talks down to you as he undresses his lower half, relieving himself to only his boxers as he now knelt down to face your heat, legs dangling off the edge of the table to uses that as means to slide your shorts off with ease, revealing the soaked underwear that gave you constant reminder of the eyes you held the whole night.

“All this for me hm? Ain’t I lucky.”

He lifts a finger to massage the outside of your heat, slowly pressing on the wet spots as he toys with you, making your breath hitch at the feeling of his touch, the sensitivity only growing overtime as you were denied for so long.

Slowly he peels off your underwear, allowing your slick to trail down the side of your thigh as it leaves a trace when it hits the floor. The cool air hitting your clit makes you jolt, but Joel wasting no time allows himself to dig straight into you. Feeling his tongue explore every crevice of you, every place where you have leaked for him he wants to take in every drop of it. Tasting you was like heaven to him. As his lips were pressed against your heat as his tongue began to make a repeated circular motion along your clit.

your fingers beg for his hair, grasping it in desperate fingers do you confine him within the bars of your thighs as they squeeze against his head.

“Mmng— god Joel it feels so nice please I-”

He waited for you to speak before sticking a finger inside of you. Thick callused fingers grabbed at your core and pushed its way into your center, hooking at sponge from inside you right at the spot that felt best. No longer could you ever think he didn't know what he was doing, it’s as if he knew your own body in and out, and with the whines you have to bite back out of fear of it drowning out the shower's thud of water upon a clueless Sarah.

“You like that sweetheart?”

Joel groans into your pussy, he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. Hearing your stifled yelps and desperate moans over his tongue, his finger inside of you.

“Y..yes please Joel I need more.”

He slides in with a second finger, though lets up from your clit. Slick drips to his chin as he rises to face you, leaning over you as fingers still pump inside of you.

“Never fuckin’ satisfied, is that it? Whaddya need darlin’ hm? How about ya’ use those words for me.”

He made it hard for you to speak or even think as the steady grind of his fingers inside of you overtook your senses. But you obliged, trying through breathed heaves to try and relay what you desperately needed from him.

“Fuck me. Please fuckme Joel I cant— ngh I cant fucking take it anymore.”

“Good girl. Guess you’re in luck ‘cause I aint ever wanted to fuck someone this bad in my entire life. And I’m not gonna be gentle on ya’ alright? I know you can take it.”

Slowly removing his fingers from you, he lifts them up to his own mouth to let him taste you one last time, slowly licking clean what was just knuckle deep within you. You watch as he slithers his boxers off, revealing what seemed to be impossible to fit inside of you. His cock was pulsating, almost red as it yearned to be touched, it yearned to be inside of you. You watch as beads of precum already coat its tip, and veins throb against the slight curve of him that twitches at the feeling of release.

Inching towards you you feel his tip graze your core before pushing into your folds, covering himself with your slick does he push himself flush against you as you see how far his cock rides up onto your body. You see him smile at the sight of it lying on your stomach, predicting how deep it’ll push inside of you before he centers it once more at your entrance, slowly spreading you open as you feel a fire burn within your stomach at the initial pain of it. It felt as though he was ripping you apart slowly, legs instinctively closing did his hand grab onto your thighs to push them open.

His body flushes against yours with a deep groan, letting your walls warm his cock for a moment as he looks down on you.

“You’ve got a pretty fuckin’ body ya’ know that? All done up fer me, feel so lucky finally gettin’ to do this.”

He begins inching in and out of you with slow pace, your body moving with every stroke of his cock around you as you fell hopelessly obsessed with the feeling of him inside of you.

“Been wantin’ to do this all night— imagining what ya’ looked like under that pretty little costume of yours. Fuck, woulda fucked you right on that balcony if I could’ve. Nngh—”

His thrusts in you grow faster as he speaks to you, talking you through the whole thing makes you only look at him with wide eyes, desperately needing his cock and drinking in the southern drawl that detailed how he felt the exact same.

“Body’s fuckin’ perfect. Pretty little pussy all fer me, yaknow that? Right now you’re all fuckin’ mine hm? Ain't that right doll?”

“Yes, yes Joel— all for you nngh. My body is all yours please, please don't stop.”

His finger trails down from your thigh to your clit, throbbing with pain at the need to be touched does he satiate it with a thumb beginning to circle where his tongue did moments prior.

“Fuckkk please oh my god”

your breath grows irregular as the fire burning in your stomach grows white hot, unable to utter anything coherent as babbling of desperate please escape your mouth as your body becomes addicted to his every touch. The push of his cock directly against your cervix, the circle of his thumb perfectly against your heat, you felt it bubble inside you. Nearing on toppling over all you can think of, unconsciously chanting as he fucks into you Joel Joel Joel Joel

“Ya’ gonna fuckin’ come for me? Cmon, I wanna feel it darlin’ I want it to swallow me I want you to cum on my fuckin’ cock hm? Can ya’ do that for me?”

He groans over you, thrusts growing irregular at the desperation of his own climax reaching a head at the same time yours does. Only letting a few more thrusts greet you before you feel it toppling over, every inch of your body becoming utterly ruined below him. Feeling his cock inside of you pistoning into you through your orgasm, legs lock around his clothed waist as your hips buck up, shaking as your back arches against the table with legs raised, most of your body not even on the table anymore as he holds your legs stable to fuck through his own orgasm.

“Fuck fuck darlin’ you’re so fuckin’ tight— shit you feel so good.”

“Inside of me”

You manage to breathe through a fogged mind and blurry vision as the sensitivity of your body makes his use of you mind numbing.

“Please. Please Joel please cum inside of me please—”

You feel heavy liquid fill you as he slows his pace, heavy groan being the only thing that fills the room now as he pumps in and out of you, softening inside of you as his seed leaks from you. He slowly removes himself from you, a collection of your own fluid and his trails down the side of your thigh as you both stay there breathless. Watching as he slowly shifts on his boxers, and loosely does pants that are soon to come off later.

Before you’re able to right yourself or even get up, you watch as Joel slides your clothes back on you, latching your bra softly as he raises your back up to do so. Slipping your top on and tying a proper knot is the only thing missing from your wardrobe, the underwear he took off of you, that of which becomes missing as he slips your shorts onto you.

“I think you forgot something.”

“Think I deserve a little trophy don't you darlin’?”

You flush at the implication, Joel keeping them as a sort of token of remembrance of you, of this night.

Straightening yourself up as he finishes clothing you do you stand there, as you watch his back once more fill up glasses of water for you and him. Taking in all he is, form fitting cowboy attire still decorating his body, do you outstretched a hand to feel his bicep, a desire you’d had the moment that woman did. As he turns to face you, feeling your hand brush against his body once more he smiles slightly, teasing;

“Ya’ like what ya see sweetheart?”

“I just wanted to feel you.”

“Already did a lotta that don't ya’ think? But be my guest.”

He hands you a small glass of water as he drinks out of his own, and as silence engulfs the two of you you hear the dreaded creak of a shower turning off sound from the upstairs as reality sets in for the two of you once more.

“Think ya’ best go check on Sarah now.”

“Yeah that’d be smart.”

You avert his eyes as you’d done once prior, engulfed by embarrassment as you remember Sarah after the intimate moment you shared.

“Well, I’ll be down here for a bit longer, then headed ta’ bed. You just uh, let me know if ya need anythin’ right? You know where my room is.”

A small smile across his face implies a very different definition of ‘needing’ something, depending on how you view it. But as you ascend the stairs to help deal with Sarah once more, part of you knows that you’ll be asking him for some more help, cleaning, before night's end.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel x reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #pedro x reader #pedro pascal #cowboy pedro #cowboy joel #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction

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hellishfig · 3 months ago

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just finished listening to episode 34 of worlds beyond number, "something to remember you by," which is the end of arc 3 of the wizard, the witch, and the wild one, and i feel sick from how incredible it was. the physical reactions my body made to some of the words and music in this podcast really took me by surprise. i'm still reeling.

some thoughts:

i'm so happy that suvi is questioning the citadel, her reaction to silver's letter was inspired, and i LOVED her interactions with the quartermaster. she's so clever and intimidating (holy shit that was HOT), but i'm worried about what's happening to silver. i have an inkling that the witches may have already started making moves alongside the man in black, and i wonder how that will affect suvi going forward. and going to try and save silver before returning their "precious cargo" to the citadel... i hope suvi can keep questioning, and that whatever she faces, she doesn't let the justification machine run its course any longer.

eursulon meeting up with tefmet was really cool. i enjoyed the return of the strongest man in silbury immensely. it was extremely funny. and then, when eursulon asked to help and succeeded on his persuasion checks, it was solemnly touching. i love eursulon's power being in steadfast support and protection, and how to him, it's not about opposing the citadel in its entirety, it's about saving spirits, great and small, from those who would use them. and that's something he can do while still protecting his true friends.

ame let the chaos OUT this episode, and it was delightful and nerve wracking and thrilling to listen to. she's very bossy and it's so funny to hear how immediately eursulon goes along with it, despite not knowing what "it" is. growing up watching grandma wren, she seems to have gained a natural authority that makes people who love her listen to her when she asks them to perform innocuous menial tasks. but that's also interesting, because her chaos is focused, if imprecise. she knows what she needs to do and will do it, damn the consequences. as long as she can get away, who cares what she leaves in her wake? that's a problem for future ame.

they stole some brass knockers and a lion! they kidnapped nif to save her from being killed by indri! tof burned bright to free a vrock! suvi heads to war, eursulon and ame TO TOMA! (i almost cried when eursulon said those words and the music swelled. what the fuck, lou. what the FUCK taylor and jared. i'm not okay!!!)

and then of course, brockvale. holly hill. the resting place of sir curran of the hawthorn, who unknowingly sent eursulon on a quest that would lead him to our story. the man in black, the pilgrim under stars, the king of knight, the stranger, holds sir curran's shield. he comes to make an offer. will this poor old guard bid a weary traveler to step over this threshold?

this is why worlds beyond number feels so different to me from other dnd shows and podcasts. these artists have come together with the shared goal of not just playing a fun game that they all enjoy, but with the express aim of crafting a brilliant story. i love a goofy campaign full of shenanigans as much as the next person, but i adore how every choice in this show is given weight and meaning. there are no decisions made for laughs. it doesn't feel like playing a game. it feels like living in the story.

and there are also moments like the ending of this episode. a snapshot of elsewhere in the world, something the players don't know, but the audience gets to. it fills out the edges of the story and provides a richer tapestry of lore and reasoning behind the machinations of those who oppose our heroes. it gives life to the tale.

my heart is beating so fast. this show is incredible. thank you, @worldsbeyondpod , for the world you're creating.

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haechurch · 1 year ago

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Its mark lees bday (ystd) and i recalled the fact that mark says hes quite obvious if he liked someone, and the fact that i see him kinda obsessed with butts and all those videos where he groped members cheeks never fails to make me drool..... ah i need him in lyfe fr. Also istj♡

So thats why i made this smut based on those^ happy mark day<3

Your roommate is a famous jock, who is currently not home for celebrating his birthday at some party that throws just for him. Honestly, you didn't know it was his birthday until one of your friends that went there told you so. You're known as someone who doesn't like parties, although surprisingly enough, your mbti says that you're an extrovert, but you always find that you're too lazy to do the stuff.

So you're wondering when this your famous roommate will come home from his party, and think of something you could do for him as it's his birthday. He's home pretty late when he finds you watching spirited away in the living room.

"Hey, i thought you were asleep," he said. You munch on your popcorn and replied as your eyes glued to the tv, "hm, how's your party, birthday boy?" He chuckled and took off his cap, throwing it softly on the couch beside you, and heavily seat across from where you're sitting. He leaned back and spread his legs while his hand brushed his messy hair. "Cool, kinda tiring. Feels like my energy's being sucked," "well, that sound sucks." Both of you chuckled, he's so introvert for that (lol).

"I understand," you hum. "You know," you shifted on your seat, and as mark was clearly aware since he saw you in the living room; dressed so loosely only in your camisole (braless) and short pants, showing him a pose that makes you utterly look fuckable, you blurted out, "...do you have any idea what else that can be sucked at this moment?"

"What?" His tone was confused and he's kinda taken aback by your words.

You swear to god that teasing him is the most fun thing to do in this world. You laugh your ass off and brush him away, saying that you need to take a shower since you haven't done that today. I mean, why take a shower when you're literally at home all day?

"Since it's your birthday, why don't you tell me your wish? Or something that you wanted? Think about it while i'm in the shower." You wink at him playfully as you hopped into your room.

Mark's head is full of thoughts right now. He didn't know he would ask someone for giving him a birthday present, but he knows that he really needs that. He's thinking about it so hard as he cooling his head down in the shower too, until he decided on what he wanted for his birthday, especially from you.

Fyi, you can always hear when mark lee is jerking off in his room (or bathroom) when you're home. Of course, the wall is pretty thin and he's just too loud. So when you finished your quick shower and heard him in the bathroom, you knew exactly what he need the most for his birthday.

Later, you knock on mark's door, asking for permission to barge in. "Can i come in?"

"Uh-uh, yeah, sure," when you entered his room, you saw his hair is already half dry, and he is wearing a tight black t-shirt with shorts.

Holy moly.

Honestly, no one in the world would disagree that mark lee is hot.

You're making a bee line to where he stand beside his desk, and started talking next to him. "Sooo have you decided?" He chuckled nervously and started to act like an idiot. "Decided what?"

You frown an eyebrow, "your wish? You can tell me what you want for your birthday?" You reminded him. "Oh that, yeah, um-"

He placed his hand on his nape and be looking so awkward right now, but that's why you like him.

You bit your lips in amusement. Now it's getting harder to hold back.

You can't take it anymore and lean closer to him. He didn't even budge. "Mark.." you place your hands on his torso, and he slightly flinched at your action. "Tell me.." your hands caressing him down his abs, and stop at his groin. "Your wish." You whispered in his ear, and he swear he was getting goosebumps, his breath hitched when you place your hand on his center and gently cupped his bulge.

"Wait, wait, wait, hold up hold up," he's panicking as he points a pointless finger in the air, and you went crazy because of it. You're definitely a simp for mark lee.

"I-uh, hold up a sec, are you for real?" He's questioning instead.

"What do you mean?" You smiled at him. He's so adorable.

"I mean, why are you... i feel like.. this isn't it-"

"Mark."

"Yeah?"

"Just tell me, please? What do you want right now?"

You glanced at his boner and it's so fucking obvious. God it must be hurt. He has to quit playing dumb and ask for it when he knows he needs it more than anything.

"Fuck, help me with these," he gestured upturned hands right above his legs.

"How, mark? Tell me how do you like it, hm?" He has no idea how you had so much fun teasing him.

He got short-circuited again when you press your body against him and crane your head up, about to kiss him, "wai wh-" he backed off a little and placed his hands on your waist, both eyes finding each other as you hum before slowly close the gap between your lips and kissed him.

A short one. And then your eyes meet again, and he give you another kiss, this time out of his control. He basically pressed his face against yours, hands on your jaw before he put it all over your body and proceed to push you against the wall. You hang on him by grabbing at his nape and head, ruffling his hair into a mess. The kiss never breaks, he kiss you like he mean it, now he pressed his body on yours, and you can feel his big cock, hard as a rock. He's not that silent when kissing too, you can hear his breathy grunts and the fact that he's also a moaner. He tilted his head back and forth to kiss you at different angles, his tongue all over your mouth.

Both of you squirmed uncontrollably against each other when you make out against his bedroom wall, he squeezed your ass before he tapped your thighs for you to jump on him and bring you onto his bed.

He didn't waste his time pulling down his shorts and breathily plea, "suck me off."

You delighted hearing his request, overjoyed to finally have him asking for you to please him, "as you wish, sir."

You immediately take him into your hand, eyes locked with him as he winced, groaning when you suck his tip and swallow him into your mouth. When you started to bob your head, he throw his head back with a sigh, his neckline is prominent and his adam's apple bob deliciously.

You can feel your lips torn up because of how big he is, and you can feel the veins as you drag your tongue along his shaft. "Oh, fuck, that's it baby, you're doing so good," he hissed sexily and it almost made you cum. Embarrassing.

Considering how much you are already wet for him from just sucking his cock is insane. He face fucked you as he let out his honey moans and groans, every time you find his tip meeting the back of your throat and you felt like swallowing it, you try your best not to choke miserably on his cock.

"Where do you want me to cum?" He asked. "Of course, you can't talk." He chuckled as he mocked you. "You have to swallow it like a good girl, you think you can do that?" You nod your head eagerly. "Alright."

"Good girl." Every time he spits those words from his mouth, you felt your pussy clenching and it hurts.

His thrusts are getting faster and faster when warm loads run down your throat as he grunts loudly while throwing his head back again, then when he look down, you already gaze into his eyes and barely lick your lips, mouth full and smudged with his cum and your saliva.

"Shit.." he's savoring the sight before him for a while, and then he asked.

"Can i fuck you?"

You cracking up in front of him, it's not funny at all but-

"I told you, your wish is my command, baby." You started to strip and show him your naked body, prettily exposed on his bed, ready to be used.

"Fuck, isn't this my best birthday ever?" You laugh at him again.

"I know. Happy birthday, now eat your cake." You said jokingly.

He sneered and take his remaining clothes off, then crawl into the bed, and started kissing you from head to toe. He played with your tits, fumbled them here and there, pinching your nipples, nipping and licking. He sucked on the flesh just right above your chest, your throat, your shoulder, marking his mark.

"This tells that you're mine."

"Yours."

Your voice hitched and your neck arched when he lick your pussy, eating you out. You squirm under his touch and pull on his hair, only making him more passionate to giving you pleasure. He abused your clit and folds in the most delicious way that made you a moaning mess, the sound of him slurping your juices and his moan was making you beyond aroused. His tongue and lips find their way to clean up and suck every fold, fucking your hole. You whine when you feel like you're about to burst.

"Wait, mark, i wanna come around your cock," you asked him with a pout, and he can't really resist that.

"On your knees, pretty girl." You do as he says, eagerly arching your back and showing him your ass. He slapped it. Twice.

Mark rubs his tip sensually up and down your entrance before lining his cock to your pussy, he's doing that for a while, making more juices leaking from your core. But suddenly he put his cock between your ass cheeks then poked on the entrance, but never really thrust them. He's such a tease.

"H-hurry, please.."

"Hm? It's kinda nice to hear you begging like this, you know? What is it, pretty?"

"Please, mark, just fuck me," he never felt this victorious before.

He smirked and wet his lips, "gladly."

You moan as he rams into you, he picked up a steady pace as he fuck you from behind. He got your eyes rolled to the back of your head, drools are already all over your mouth and chin.

"Fuck, mark," "it's so good. So good, so good, so good," you cry over his cock, you heard him grunt heavily and he felt you tighten when he land another slap on your ass.

"Yeah? You like that, huh? Tell me you like it."

"I like it, i love it, ah-"

He's fucking you so good you felt like you're gonna cum soon. Your pussy keeps getting tighter as it swallows him, wrapping his cock like a gift.

"Are you gonna cum? Come on, cum around me, pretty girl," he squeezed and slap your ass, his thrust never faltered, bringing you into your climax. "Ahh- i think- i'm gonna cum, mark-"

The moment he played with your nipples, you lost it, you came so hard your vision got white as he keep thrusting into you, chasing his high.

"M-mark!"

"I know baby, i know, just, try to take this one okay, please,"

He pleaded. And you moan even harder. He piston in and out until you heard his deep groans as he cum inside you. Both of you were too immersed in the sex that you didn't realize what was just happened. He quickly pulled out though.

"Shit, i'm sorry,"

"It's okay. I'm on the pill anyways,"

When you glanced at him, he was breathing heavily, sweat covering his body, making him glow under the dim light. Mouth agape, hair's disheveled. Perfect.

"So.."

"So?"

"Uh, thank you, for the present. This is what i wanted from you. I guess.."

You smiled fondly at him. He has always been just a hot roommate to you although he's actually attractive in many ways, but you might really, really like him more than you thought.

"You know what?" You get up on your elbow, "you were always loud when you jerked off."

Oh.

Oh, he's freaking out.

"And that's.. with you almost every time calling my name.."

He's swearing in his head.

Mark lee, aren't you just too obvious?

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casterousaudrey · 1 year ago

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Healing Touch

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: Astarion/Cleric!Tav!reader

Theme: tooth rotting fluff, some religious themes due to reader being a cleric.

Note: I think I made the reader and Astarion too obsessed with each other.. but in a good way!! Also this was inspired by the time I gave offerings in the stromshore tabernacle and I just see the 'Astarion disapproves', what the flip man! Sorry to those who were waiting for this, It took a while because of my busy sched!

"I’m never going to accept any kind of healing that doesn't end with a kiss after"

Fighting with Astarion never escalated far. It was usually just small jabs at each other or teasing gone too far but then there are times like these when neither one of you would back down it just kept making the fight more heated.

"I bring you once. One time to the stormshore tabernacle, and you can't even hold your tongue when I'm trying to commune with my God!"

"I just thought that you weren't the type to bow down to anyone, my dear."

"I'm a cleric, Astarion! Yes, I'm a devoted worshiper to my God and they give me strength! Apparently, strength I need to deal with you!"

Astarion sneers and crosses his arms at you. Worshipping another being doesn't exactly sit well with him, he feels that it controls you and makes you too dependent on them. It was probably due to how Cazador treated him but in his mind, any being asking for worship was self-admiring.

"You have your own strength, darling. So pardon me if I don't think you need some God for that."

"It's not that I don't trust my skills, Astarion. I worship my God because I choose to. Was it too much of me to ask my lover to respect that holy place? If not for the Gods then at least for me!"

At this point, you were screaming your lungs out not caring that the others in camp were glancing at the commotion. This wasn't the first Astarion had expressed his distaste for your faith, it never escalated this far because you tried to understand his situation with Cazador and all. But the constant disapproving stare and look of disgust, whenever you would pray to your God or gather some offerings to bring to the stormshore Tabernacle slowly, got to you.

After all the times you saved him from life-threatening wounds, you thought that maybe he'd warm up to your faith- but he remained unshaken.

"I'm going to take a walk... It's better if you don't follow me for now....., dearest" Your heart jumps a little at the nickname but then anger eventually pops your lovesick bubble. Astarion gets up and leaves camp, his definition of laying off steam was to walk through the woods and terrorize whatever animal crosses his path. You were about to say something about how you were the one who was supposed to storm off but instead, you held your tongue and went back to your tent making sure to close the opening.

You loved Astarion- and there is no doubt in your heart that he loves you too, but you didn't want to have to choose between faith and love because you believed that they are the main pillars that keep your spirit strong.

~~~

As Astarion was walking through the woods he reminisced about the argument you both had, he couldn't understand why anyone would worship a being without being sure that they'd get a reward in return. The only thing close to God he had in his life was Cazador- oh and how much he wanted to rip his face apart.

Astarion ponders all of this unaware he is dangerously close to enemy territory and suddenly senses another presence- maybe four around the trees. "If you're going to spy on me all day at least make it less obvious" Just then two goblins jump down from the tree, their weapons craving for blood.

"Hells, there must be quite a bounty on my head" Astarion smiles as he brings his weapons out. He strikes at the first goblin. "You fiends are making this stress reliever way easier for me. I can do this all day!" Astarion did occasionally love the thrill of the hunt, especially when he gets something in return. A thought comes across his mind that he feels rather... alone in this fight, although he could handle this on his own he couldn't help but crave your helping hand and your smile that shines when he saves you from danger.

Unfortunately, Astarion didn't realize how distracted he was until one of the goblins blew a horn, a signal for backup.

"Well, shit.."

Astarion killed the first two goblins but he sees backup quickly replacing them. The grip on his dagger tightened, this was supposed to be a nice relaxing walk to calm down or even hunt for other creatures. He guesses that trouble always did find a way to follow him.

The goblins fall one by one but not after Astarion gets injured by their bows, axes, and maces. As the last goblin loses, Astarion clutches his side. He was hurt and it's been so long since he's felt hurt in combat, his mind jumps again to your hands that always healed him at an instant or your ability to heal the entire team within seconds. God, he really missed you- he didn't even feel angry anymore, he just wanted to be in your arms as you kiss every part of his injuries after you healed it.

Just then he hears a footstep, and he groans in annoyance, more of this and he'd actually collapse- either from his injuries or his need to hold you again, he isn't sure.

"Look if you're looking for gold, you're out of luck..."

"Oh Gods.. what happened?"

He quickly glances to his side where the figure had approached from where he was sitting. Astarion half expected it to be you, The thought of you running after him made him smile but then it quickly disappeared when he realized the fact that the female human in front of him may be a cleric but it wasn't his beloved cleric.

"We should get you back to the church! They'll help heal your wounds!"

"As kind as your offer is, I'm afraid I have to decline. I can't these injuries for myse-" Just as Astarion tries to stand up, he feels pain in his side. He now just felt annoyed that he was displaying this kind of weakness to some stranger.

"Nonsense! I'll help bring you there!" The cleric smiles as she wraps Astarions arm across her shoulder. Astarion couldn't protest as much because of his condition but he'd be damned if he'll let himself get healed by some cleric.

~~~

The sun was about to set and Astarion still hadn't come back to camp. You were getting worried, you weren't even mad at him anymore you just wanted him safe and back in your arms. You really did fall hard for this man.

"Hey soldier... are you okay?" Karlach has seen you pacing back and forth all over camp, fiddling your weapon nervously, and even stress-eating your favorite sweets.

"Yeah, sorry if I'm being all jittery today it's just.."

"Astarion, yeah I know how much you care about each other. I'm sure he'll come back safe!"

"Thank you, Karlach. You're the best"

You softly smile at her as she waves and walks back to her tent. Just then you hear Gale laughing walking towards you, he just came back from town to fetch new ingredients for tonight's meal. He always loved cooking for the group.

"Ok you won't believe what happened"

"Spit it out, Gale. What's gotten into you?"

"Ok, so I was walking around the city and I stopped by the church. Guess who I saw there sneering at every cleric on-site..."

"No..."

"Astarion! Gods, if you saw the furrowed brows of the clerics trying to help him you'd laugh too"

"He's hurt?!"

"Not badly, I came to tell you about it. Figured the only cleric he'd let touch him was you"

You started to flush but quickly remembered that your partner was hurt. "Oh Gods, I need to go there Gale before he loses his mind. We'll be back for dinner!" You grabbed a few of your belongings, as well as some healing ingredients, and sprinted out. You wave quickly at the others before reaching the path to the church.

You have no idea why you were nervous to see Astarion, you see each other every day and sometimes even every night. You were scared if you got there and he was still mad at you. You push those thoughts away because all you wanted was to see and help him (maybe to also give him a little smooch but you won't tell him that).

As you open the door you hear the clatter of equipment being thrown to the ground, You greet the other people you know at church as you hear another glass breaking. You already know who would be acting hysterical in a church so you followed the sound and opened the door to reveal your one and only lover sitting up on a bed and a cleric who had been trying to help him.

"Oh sorry ma'am but this section is strictly forbidden to outsiders"

"It's ok I'm a cleric, and he's my husband"

"Oh well... if that's the case I can hand his case to you!"

The female cleric quickly picked up her equipment and left the room, she seemed a little too eager to finally leave. You turn to face Astarion whose eyes are already on you, his lips curled to a smile- at least you know he isn't mad.

"Husband? You could at least take me out for dinner first, darling"

"Oh hush, that was one of the only peaceful to get her to leave us alone"

The other beds in the room were surprisingly empty, leaving the both of you alone. You walked towards his bed as you set your bag on the side table. You place yourself in between his legs as you softly caress his face with your hands.

"How's my favorite vampire doing"

"Better now that you're here.... look darling, I just wanted to apologize for my actions earlier. It was completely uncalled for. The closest thing to a God I knew was Cazador... you saw firsthand how much I hate the beast.. but I also understand that it wasn't like that for you, I can live with you being faithful to a God and it also makes you kind, sometimes too kind"

"Too kind, eh? Maybe I should just leave your injuries unattended then"

"I would appreciate it if you won't"

You laugh softly at him as you place a kiss on his lips and at his lashes. You've always loved his eyes and how easily you could get lost in them. Astarions hands were on your waist as you lifted his shirt to finally tend to his wounds.

"I'm also sorry for screaming at you. Wasn't very kind of me to do... but also you were an ass"

"What an apology, my dear"

"Only the best for you"

Still in his hold, you grab a few medicines in your bag and quickly healed him with your magic. In no time Astarion was all healed, all that was left was to clean his bloodied clothing. You loved times like this- intimate and calm, You thank your God for the power to help him because he does get into trouble quite often.

"And there, you're all set. We can go back to camp now if you want"

"It still hurts right here, love"

You glanced at where his fingers were pointing only for it to be pointed at his lips. "Want me to kiss it better?"

"I wouldn't want nothing more, my sweet"

You chuckle as you kiss him on his lips. Even before you got together he always had this flirtatious attitude, you could argue that it only became more frequent when you got together. Always the charmer.

"Now let's go home before the others get worried" He released his hold on your hips as he stood up and stretched a bit. "Anything you say, darling"

"Why didn't you want to get healed by the other clerics?"

"Oh well they aren't as attractive, strong, smart, and quick-witted as you.... besides"

Astarion turns to you holding both of your hands in his as you look him in the eye.

"You're my one and only cleric. I’m never going to accept any kind of healing that doesn't end with a kiss after"

"You could ask Shadowheart next time"

"Ughh don't even get me started, I was trying to be romantic..."

Taglist: @severusminerva, @sarahskywalker-amadala, @ghostinvenus, @veethewriter. Hope you guys enjoyed this!! xoxo

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion #astarion x mc #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 #bg3 tav #baldurs gate iii #astarion x tav

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