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peachpitfics · 6 months ago

Text

Cruel Summer

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Following your romp with Benedict Bridgerton in his art studio, he asked your brother for your hand! Now you're on your honeymoon, and you're getting a little bored, posing for him. A lady must find ways to amuse herself!

Length: 2.1k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), Penetrative vaginal sex, unprotected sex, light bondage, food play.

a/n: This is an anonymous request for a continuation of 'Guilty as Sin'.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Benedict Bridgerton escorting you to view his artwork, at his private studio, was just the beginning of your story. After sneaking around behind your family’s backs for a small while, Benedict gathered enough courage to ask your eldest brother’s permission for your hand. This seemed strange to the y/l/n family, not one of them had ever seen the two of you together, which showed how much attention was paid to the middle child. Benedict made sure to ask you in the Bridgerton drawing room, just before family tea, for everyone to see. He made such a big to-do, confessing his love to you, before every member of the Bridgerton family in attendance. It felt particularly safe there, amongst people who took interest in who you were as a person.

It was bittersweet to have siblings who offered their time, their attentions, and their hobbies freely. You learned so many new things from each of them, from pall-mall, to sewing, even horse riding. In six months, you were married and moved into the Bridgerton house for the meantime, until after your honeymoon. You would never outright tell Benedict you did not want to move out, but he felt it, he knew.

“My love” Benedict whispered, shaking your shoulders gently. Honeymooning in Paris was something the two of you had instantly agreed upon. So far, two weeks of sleeping late, making love, and eating copious amounts of divine food was your only concern. Of course, there were a lot of other lovely things Benedict had planned for your honeymoon – river boat rides and romantic dinners, every moment between locations filled with fine bread, wine, and cheese.

“Yes, my love?” You grumbled, rolling away from him, clearly having not had enough sleep.

“You must wake up, it is midafternoon!” Benedict exclaimed with a chesty laugh, rolling you back into him and tickling your sides. You howled with laughter, pushing him away playfully, leaning up to distract him as only you knew how. His lips were warm and wet against your own, seductive, and luscious.

“You must come downstairs! The housekeeper has left us a feast and I wish to paint my gorgeous wife” Benedict slid his hands around your naked body, lifting you out of bed as you groaned.

“Again?!” “My darling, I’ll be painting you until death takes me” Benedict chuffed, sliding sideways between doorways and down the stairs to the sitting room.

“What if death takes me first?” You smirked back, figuring you had him cornered here.

“I have made God promise I am to go first. And even so, I’ll have every detail committed to memory and these paintings and sketches of you now to keep me company” Benedict squeezed you in his arms, he didn’t like to joke about parting ways, in any sense. It was his truest nightmare, his deepest fear.

Benedict set you down in the sitting room and gestured to what he and the house keeping staff had readied. Paint, canvas, a staging area - littered around the room were bowls of fresh fruit, bottles of wine, candles surrounded by plates of cheese, oil, and bread. You relaxed back against his chest, his arms wrapping around you, cupping your breasts sweetly. You giggle a little, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He nodded to your position for the rest of the day, a chair with the back faced to a very high window, casting a streak of sunlight down upon the spot.

There you sat, for hardly an hour before your mind began to wander, circling Benedict in your mind like a shark in open water. You had learned to become comfortable being nude for long periods of time these days, however Benedict had learned nothing of your persuasion or power when your attentions were dashed. Your movements started slowly, daintily taking your hands to your knees, and spreading your legs wide upon the chair. Resting a little, relaxing your back and cupping your own breasts. Your fingers gently grazing your nipples. But nothing, no attention from your husband. He sat close to his canvas, squinting into the detail of his work, his realm of perception clearly inhibited. With a huff and a light moan, you continued to palm at your own breasts, fingers trapping your nipples in a pulling motion- you decided to pretend Benedict wasn’t here. Suddenly, taking notice, you watched as his brush left the canvas, his mouth hung open a little and he removed his glasses, almost tossing them to the floor.

“What are you doing, darling?” He mumbled, swallowing hard. Your hands ran down your mid-section, over your belly and down your thighs sensually, soft mewls slipped from between your lips. Benedict loved the sounds you made.

“I’m just amusing myself, continue on with your painting my dear” Your replying comment was nonchalant in the best way. Benedict almost looked offended that you would suggest he could go back to painting.

“How do you suppose I paint, while my wife ravages her own body before me?” He blinked at the audacity of you.

“Well, dear one, this is what you have chosen for this afternoon’s activities… Now, you must endure” You smiled, sliding your hand between your legs, dipping your finger in the wet warmth there. Benedict shuddered, wishing any part of him were exchanged with your finger.

If there was anything you had learned about Benedict in the last six or seven months, it was that his desire for you was consistent and all encompassing. Benedict watched on as your fingers circled your clitoris, you moaned and exhaled gently - his paint brush never did return to the canvas. Beads of sweat formed on his brow line, the hot, French summer finally taking its toll in the late afternoon. You reached to the small stool next to you, extracting the tiniest jar of honey. You looked into Benedict’s eyes, holding the jar above your body, dangling your head back and pouring a steady stream of honey over your chest. The sun glistened, reflecting little pools of light off your sticky, sweet skin.

Taking your finger, you swept up your belly from your navel, placing your finger on your tongue in clear view of him, and that was his very last straw. Benedict threw his paintbrush to the ground, thrusting himself up and out of his chair, to march across the room to you.

“What do you think you are doing, wife?” Benedict’s voice rasped, his eyes were so dark, the colour had all but gone.

“Playing, my love” You replied cheekily, sucking another nip of honey off your finger. He all but growled watching your finger slip between your lips, his breath quickening in sheer lust for you.

“Are you punishing me for getting you out of bed?” Benedict’s face was so close now, his nose tip to tip with yours. There was such tension in his jaw, his teeth clenched hard in his fierce need of you. You fluttered your lashes back at him, refusing to answer with your words.

“Do you have even a semblance of an understanding of what you are doing to me? This is unbelievably cruel,” He breathed heavily down on you, desperation flooding his body and adrenaline surging behind, “You can’t begin to imagine the things I want to do to you right now” His stubble gliding across your ear and cheek, making you shudder.

“Show me then,” You challenged, “You are my husband after all”.

Benedict’s hands slowly moved to his shirt, shedding it, and throwing it somewhere behind him. He acted with a sureness and a strength you hadn’t yet experienced, but it was drawing you in. Undoing his pants, Benedict took his hard member into his hands, stroking himself against your chest, lathering it in honey. His other hand wove into your hair, tangling the perfect hold, bringing you forward.

“Oh. Goodness. Seems I’ve made quite a mess of myself… Wife, help me clean it up” He smiled smugly down at you.

Something feral, untamed, was unleashed inside you, your eyes darkening, “Certainly, my lord”. As your tongue reached out to meet his tip, his head lulled back in pleasure, his hand still wrapped around the base of him. Your lips parted slowly, encasing his first inch, and swirling your tongue around to suck the honey from him. Benedict exhaled headily, his breaths deep, but quick with the slightest grunt mixed in. The way he sounded, even now, made you wetter and wetter.

There was something maliciously keen in Benedict’s eyes as he watched from on high, your pretty mouth sucking all the honey off him and then some. His body gently rocked forward, his hand heaving your head forward, onto him in a more perverse manner. His head hung back in greedy caution, grasping to the very last straws of his gentlemanly nature as you sunk to the base of him, your tongue wriggling slyly underneath.

His fingers grew taut in your hair, reefing you backwards. His laugh was low, both impressed and challenged by your ministrations. In the next moment, Benedict had hauled you up and over his shoulder, he was charging up the stairs, mad with temerity.

Entering the bedroom, he threw you down on the bed, scrambling for any piece of material in reach, he began ripping. Four pieces of silk fabrics in his hands, he loomed over you in profound ownership. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, Benedict taking each wrist and ankle, tying them to each to their respective corner post of the bed.

“There” He stood, hands on his hips, proud of his work, “There’ll be no more of that”. Clearly touching yourself had had a dire effect on Benedict’s work ethic.

Kneeling between your thighs, his naked body unjustly out of reach, Benedict’s supercilious smile sick with goofy dominance. He thumbs over your folds, his finger descending, extorting whines of pleasure you never knew existed within you. Broad strokes of the most painful, unapologetically evil gratification. Benedict’s tongue flicked over his lips hungrily.

“I need you” The words escaped you violently, the thrill of his touch, his charming smile becoming all too much for you. He ignored you and continued another moment or two, reducing you to a begging mess beneath him.

“Shall I oblige you, my marvellous bride?” His grin was jubilant and all knowing, his hands came down on your wrists, pressing them into the bed. Benedict’s brutal, familiar kiss sown into your lips permanently, as he pushed inside of you with surprise.

“Y/n” He groaned, growled with unrepentant lust. Your eyes cast wide, the length of him stretching you mercilessly while he thrust in and out. His villainous face claiming your entire consciousness as he used your body to his pleasure, decadent facial expressions, and damnable sounds he was delivering straight to your right ear.

“You feel unimaginably perfect” Benedict groaned, your moans joining in alongside his.

Hands grasping for silk to hold onto, you longed for your own release, grinding your hips back against Benedict’s. His movements became more ferocious, keeping up with the sounds you were making. Frenetic energy began to move through your body, your ravenous thirst for him finally quenched. Every muscle in your body engaged in vivid contortion, Benedict pressing into you as deeply as he possibly could before his own body found its own powerful release.

Covered in sweat and honey, you laid tangled together for a moment before Benedict recalled your wrists and ankles were tied. He chuckled with giddiness, sitting up to admire his knots.

“You look fantastic like this, perhaps we should do this more often” He suggested sweetly. His thumb caressed the side of your face, your panting, tired body unable to give a response. Benedict littered your face and neck with loving pecks.

“We could be one person and I still would never be close enough to you. No amount of time with you will ever satisfy me. You are the centre of my world” Benedict whispered gently. Every day you were reminded of the intoxicants his poetic mind dabbled into every sweet thing he said to you.

In another instant, Benedict had sprung from the bed, running downstairs. You laughed, thinking he must be returning with some of the food the housekeeper had left strewn about his romantically planned afternoon. Instead, Benedict returned with a new canvas and his implements. Your mouth fell open all on its own, blinking furiously in his direction as he set himself up off the side of the bed.

“If you could just stay there, like that, that’d be great!” Benedict’s grin, excruciatingly exquisite, and concocting. He held himself with such pride in his agendum, cockiness seemed to fill the room in a potent manner.

“BENEDICT!?” You squealed, tugging frantically on his bindings, your laughter filled with rich resolve.

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tagging: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr //

If you'd like to be added to this tag list, please let me know!

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happilyhertale · 5 months ago

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Fire and blood - Daemon Targaryen x wife!reader

Author’s note: Before I got into my usual summary, this fic is part of a collab with a bunch of my lovely moots! @lady-phasma came to us with an ask about period sex and Daemon and being as lovely as she is, she offered us all the chance to collab on it. Choosing our own characters and how to play the story.

Please find the masterlist of everyone's fics here.

English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Summary: You haven't been married to your husband Daemon Targaryen for very long - but you've learnt to enjoy your marriage to the Rogue Prince. But unlike normality, you haven't sought out Daemon for a few affectionate visits throughout the day, and that makes him suspicious…

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Period smut; fingering (f in v), p in v sex - implied

Word count: 2.2 k

Other stories of mine

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Daemon opens the door, but only darkness reveals itself to him. He raises his eyebrows slightly, but steps into your shared chambers. He is looking for his wife, who has been by his side for several moons now.

During this time, he has already become accustomed to you seeking him out throughout the day, sometimes just to get a little peck and sometimes because you want to tell him something - but today you have not sought him out.

His heavy footsteps sound in your chambers as he walks further inside.

"Are you hiding from me, woman?" he murmurs.

He walks over to a small table with fruit and sweet dishes on it. He takes a bunch of grapes between his fingers before letting them disappear into his mouth.

"Has another moon gone by?" he asks into the room and turns to your bed, where he recognises the outline of a figure under the covers. A slight grin plays around his lips before he walks towards the bed.

But as he gets closer, he picks up an unusual scent.

"What's that smell?" he asks.

And suddenly your voice rings out, "It's oak bark tea... My abdomen is a cramp," you mumble from under the covers.

He's still smiling and comes closer to the bed.

"What have we got here? I wonder what trouble could be brewing under here," he says, reaching lightly for the blanket.

"No... Go away," you say quietly and try to hold the blanket tight.

But Daemon pulls the blanket down further and kneels on the bed with one knee.

"Ah... there you are... what a view," he says sarcastically as the blanket reveals your face. Your hair lies dishevelled on the pillow, your face a little sleepily puffy as your annoyed gaze meets his. "Yes....my beautiful wife," he says and smiles. He pulls the blanket down further and a "Go away," sounds from you again.

He smiles at your words, "Why would I do that when I have such a sight in front of me?" he says, a hint of sarcasm still in his voice again.

You sigh and try to turn away, but you feel Daemon kneel down further on the bed and his hand grips you gently.

"Ah, ah, ah," he says and lies down next to you, his arm wrapped around your middle.

His warm breath brushes the back of your neck as he presses his face into yours, "What's wrong," he whispers.

You sigh again and already feel his large, surprisingly warm hand on your abdomen... a warm touch of your dragon.

"I'm bleeding..." you say almost inaudibly, but Daemon hears your words and smiles slightly. He knows how you feel during your period. You're vulnerable and sleepy. The cramps force you to lie down and only warmth and strange teas from the maesters give you some relief... well, and other things.

But you're his wife and according to him, you should always feel carefree - but he can't refrain from teasing you a little.

"Pardon?" he whispers, smiling slightly, while you sigh lightly again.

"I'm bleeding..." you repeat your words and mumble into your pillow.

"Love..." he whispers again.

You close your eyes and feel this inner tension that tickles your fingertips.

"I'm on my period," you say a little louder into the pillow.

"Love... Sorry, I don't understand," Daemon replies and his lips graze your neck.

His behaviour makes you seethe, why can't he leave you alone?

"Daemon! Seven hells! I'm on my period! I'm in pain and I'm bleeding!", you call out and raise your head slightly.

He chuckles, "It's fine... no need to shout like that..."

You shake your head slightly, wanting to push his arm away, but he has a firm grip on you. His hand slides slowly downwards, his fingers make light, circular movements and you stiffen slightly.

"Daemon, what are you doing," you suddenly whisper.

"I want you to feel good, love... It'll help you relax..." he murmurs into your ear, nibbling lightly.

You gasp and hold his hand back, "Daemon... there's blood... a lot... it's the first day..." you say hesitantly.

He continues to nibble on your earlobe, his fingers sliding along your thigh, not in the least impressed by your words.

"You know there's nothing to be ashamed of. A woman's body is a natural, beautiful thing.... It's beautiful because it's you," he kisses your cheek and lets his nose glide gently along it. His hand strokes along your thigh and you feel a slight throbbing between your thighs alongside the numbing pain in your abdomen.

"Do you want me to take care of you?" he whispers, kissing the soft skin behind your ear.

You bite your lip lightly, but you shake your head slightly.

"Daemon... There really is a lot of blood..." you repeat your words quietly.

He chuckles softly again, another kiss landing on your neck, "Love... a true warrior isn't afraid of a little blood..." he murmurs.

His hand slides further, "Just relax..." he whispers and you try. Slowly, you close your eyes and try to concentrate on his touch as a heavy breath leaves your lips.

Gently, he kisses your neck and shoulder as he holds you close."It's nothing to be ashamed of either. Especially not my wife. It's natural," he whispers in your ear.

His fingers pull your nightgown up, very slowly. His fingers leave a fiery trail on your thigh and you try to ignore the dull ache that runs through your abdomen.

You can't suppress it, your hips begin to move in slight circular motions as his fingers glide through your pubic hair, caressing you. You gasp as you can already feel his arousal from behind as he presses himself lightly against you.

His fingers reach their destination, slowly running along your folds, and you gasp again – your legs spread slightly.

"That's it... I'll take care of you..." he whispers in your ear and you nod slightly.

The sweetest moan escapes your lips as his fingers find your pearl and apply light pressure. Your legs spread wider and a smile graces his lips.

"Daemon..." you gasp.

"I know..." he whispers, nibbling on your earlobe again as his fingers rub gently over your clit.

"Your body is natural and beautiful. Even in all its bloody glory," he whispers and you nod, your breathing quickening.

He kisses you on the cheek again as his fingers tease over your glistening entrance, gently spreading your folds.

You feel the familiar stretch as his fingers slide inside you. But not all the way in, he teases you a little and you exhale heavily, your hips moving towards his fingers, longing for his touch. And then he fulfils your craving – his fingers stretch your walls, trying to find a good angle, pushing deeper. He revels in the slickness that coats his fingers, the evidence of your arousal mingling with the blood that flows.

"Feel how wet you are for me," he whispers teasingly, his smile pressing against the back of your neck.

"Daemon!" you gasp, but also a small moan leaves your lips.

He chuckles briefly, but your concentration is once again fully on his movements as his fingers penetrate deeper.

"Gods..." you gasp and he grins. Slowly, but firmly, his fingers push forward. He can feel your walls clench, longing for release.

"You know I love all the sounds you make, but I love your moans the most. I can feel your walls tighten around my fingers as if your body wants to hold me inside you while I make you tremble..." he whispers in your ear.

You moan again as his thumb grazes your pearl. He continues his expert ministrations, he is determined to make you forget the discomfort, to lose yourself in a wave of pleasure that only he can provide.

His fingers curl inside you, beckoning you as his thumb presses against your clit again. You press your arse against his hardness and he moans into your neck. As he feels your hips moving towards his fingers, urging for more, he complies, increasing the intensity of his movements. He curls his fingers, angling them to hit that sweet spot within you, knowing exactly how to drive you wild with desire.

"Moan for me…" he commands, his voice laced with dominance, "Let me hear your pleasure, let it echo through these chambers."

And you obey as his fingers thrust deeper. He bites into your neck as his fingers tease your walls. His fingers continue their exploration, delving deeper inside you, seeking out the spots that make you writhe with pleasure. He maintains a steady rhythm, his touch skilled and attentive to your body's responses.

Smacking noises echo in your chambers as his fingers pump in and out faster. His fingers sliding in and out of your wetness with ease. With each thrust of his fingers, he can feel the slickness and warmth of your arousal, heightening his own desire.

He starts to apply more pressure and lets a third finger slide in. He knows what you like and he gives it to you the way you need it. He stretches your walls while they continue to clench around his fingers. Daemon's eyes gleam with a mixture of desire and possessiveness as he feels your response to his touch. He revels in the power he holds over your pleasure, his fingers moving with a practiced precision.

"Oh, my sweet wife," he murmurs, the words laced with a mixture of possessiveness and anticipation. "You are so responsive, so eager for my touch."

His body presses against yours, his hard length grinding against your backside as he continues to pleasure you with his fingers. His lips find your ear, his breath hot against your skin. Your fear of smearing him with your blood is forgotten, you need more.

"Daemon... Daemon," you whimper again and again, your arm reaching back, to the back of his head. Your fingers reach into his silky hair and he grunts. As he continues to drive you towards the peak of pleasure, Daemon's own desire grows, his need for release becoming undeniable. But at this moment, he's focused solely on your pleasure, on taking you to the edge and beyond, on helping you forget your discomfort.

"Yes... my love... Come on, come on my fingers, milk them like you always milk my cock when I fuck that delicious cunt," he growls into your neck.

And that pushes you over the edge. You cry out, your walls tightening around his fingers and Daemon grunts out.

You whimper, your hand gripping his hair tighter as he kisses your neck. Your eyes are closed, your breathing rapid as he pulls his fingers out when your walls stop clenching. A pleasant warmth flows through your abdomen, soothing away the pain more effectively than every maester's tea could.

As you catch your breath, you glance slightly over your shoulder and look at Daemon. He chuckles as he looks at his fingers, they're covered in blood.

"This is a sight I couldn't have imagined at the beginning of the day..", he kisses your neck again, "But I'm going to enjoy it“, he whispers into your ear.

"Daemon, no!" you say with wide eyes.

He just grins as you avert your eyes and blush. You hear the smacking sound as he licks his fingers.

But now you have to laugh as you stare at him again – his eyes are closed and he seems to be enjoying it.

"You're impossible..." you say softly as he still licks his fingers.

"Daemon, stop it!" you say and giggle, but he just grins and pulls you closer to him again.

"Delicious," he murmurs.

He starts stroking and caressing your belly again.

His breathing slows down as he holds you close. The sounds and smell of you, your little body in his embrace, it's almost more than he can bear at this moment.

He gently grabs your chin, as if he were holding something fragile and precious, and gently pulls your head upwards. When you return his gaze, it is gentle and tender.

"And you are my wife. You may feel sick, you may bleed, sometimes I may even be the cause of your anger. But that's all part of your body's natural rhythm. So please, my sweet girl, never hide from the pain, never keep your misery a secret. Otherwise, I promise you, it will cause me more grief than your blood..." he says gently. These moments with him are rare, but you savour them – your lovely husband. You lean towards him and let your lips slide onto his. He growls slightly and you feel his hand on your arse. You giggle slightly and feel his smile on your lips.

But the grip on your arse tightens and he pulls you towards him, positioning you perfectly against his crotch. He still can't hide his excitement and you gasp slightly. Your lips are still dancing around each other, you can feel the coppery taste on his tongue as he starts to undo his trousers. He growls again as his hand spreads your cheeks slightly and presses his hardness between your thighs from behind. You whimper as his cock slides along your folds.

"Let's see if we can give you a little more relief, shall we?" he growls against your lips and you moan as the tip of his cock presses against your slick entrance.

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nymphea0 · 3 months ago

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Until Death My love

Part 2.

Yandere husband x Wife Reader

Very long story, might be bad grammar or language in this story, so please correct me if theres any bad word or bad grammar. This story will came out with 4 chapter , so stay always love🦋🦋

word count around : 2000 words

Story Part 1 : Until Death My love

Story Part 3 : Until Death My Love

The sound of many vehicles and street lights were the only things that decorated the darkness of the night' You don't know how it could end like this, there are so many moments that you have gone through with Alex, your beloved husband.

It shouldn't be like this, but it happened so fast.

That night as usual, you became an obedient and very good wife waiting for your husband to come home from work, you prepared dinner that you cooked yourself, even though the servants really wanted to help you cook, that night you were very stubborn and made several dishes such as shrimp pasta alfredo, and roast chicken.

You waited as usual in the dining room, like the nights you had gone through before. But that night, Alex came home early in the morning, your husband came home a little later than usual.

You looked at the street with a sad face and remembered what had happened to you before, that day you learned another secret from your husband, alexandrovic Reigent.

You learned that Alex was the leader of the mafia association, the same association, that destroyed the place where you worked as a staff of a famous restaurant. You think that Alex is an ordinary man that you dated during school, you spent your days so happily with Alex, then you graduated from school and continued to college, you and Alex even studied in the same place with different majors.

Then you graduated with mediocre grades, until Alex said he wanted to build a business in the mining sector.

At first you didn't think that Alex's business would be very successful, but you were very happy with the success of Alex's business. Until one day Alex proposed to you to be his wife, right when it was your birthday.

That day you felt like the happiest woman in the world. .

'Date 05 01 19xx'

That was the day Alex went on his business trip as a CEO of a company that handles coal affairs. Like a normal day you prepared your husband's clothes, helped him put on his shirt.

"Alex how long will you be away on business?"

"Love ...I won't be gone for long, just 5 days .... hmmm? Do you miss me already?"

Your husband, Alex, coquettishly pouted at you who was busy tidying up his work needs.

"No, I don't miss you."

In a playful tone you answered Alex who seemed ready to tickle you.

That morning was filled with laughter and happiness flowing in the residence you shared with Alex. .

That afternoon was very boring without Alex, your husband for the next 5 days, at that time you for some reason really wanted to clean the room where Alex worked.

Alex's work room. As usual the servants at home really didn't want you to work, they looked as if they were afraid of something wrong with you.

Until you forced them and they had no other choice but to let you do what you wanted, well who would dare try to stop the wife of the Reigent house?.

Carrying a broom and cleaning equipment, you opened the door to Alex's work room, the room had a luxurious impression as Alex's job as a CEO of a coal company.

A room polished with African black wood, walls that are added with furniture such as classic lamps, lots of bookshelves and a document shelf.

A small pantry table that provides coffee and tea editing tools when Alex wants to drink something.

A polished work desk with additional high-quality marble with additional computers and also some documents scattered on the desk.

In short, this room is very comfortable and has a distinctive Alex smell, a blend of mint and a little musk aroma.

At first you tidy up and clean the desk where Alex works. Until you clean the bookshelf where Alex keeps books containing world history.

You clean the bookshelf carefully, rearranging the books. Each bookshelf is given a little space between 1 bookshelf and another, with the placement of a flower pot and also a classic lamp on the wall as a divider between shelves 1 and the others.

But when you were about to go to another shelf that you were going to clean next, your feet accidentally slipped between the black carpet that was the base of the shelf, with human instinct you held onto anything so that you wouldn't fall or get hurt, expert at holding bookshelves, you actually held onto the handle of a classic lamp that was quite low and you could reach.

With strong pressure you held the lamp, unfortunately when you thought it wouldn't fall, the chandelier was actually pulled down as you were going to fall, and you ended up falling with the wooden lamp that looked bent downwards.

After standing up and getting rid of the pain from the fall, you tried to fix the lamp to its original position.

But before you could even fix the poor lamp, you realized that the bookshelf you had previously cleaned was slightly tilted from the wall and showed a small gap, out of curiosity you tried to pull the bookshelf.

And there you see a small room with an area and size of 2 footsteps, the room is empty with 3 walls covered in black wallpaper and only lit by 1 lamp on the wall, on the floor there is a round carpet the same color as the walls in the room.

You think, what is this narrow room built for?, with slow steps you enter the room, trying to feel the walls but nothing happens. At that time when you think maybe this small room was built to store Alex's useless files.

When you was about to get out of the small room, my feet accidentally tripped over a lump protruding from the black carpet. Get up slowly and stand up, you try to push the carpet out of the room.

At that time, instead of the floor you saw, you saw a wooden door that was attached to the floor. Looking around, you exit the room and walk slowly towards Alex's study door, then with one turn, you lock Alex's study from the inside and walk back into the room.

Making up your mind, you open the wooden door, it's a little hard to open, but finally the door opens and reveals a staircase leading down, you don't see anything, it's very dark down there.

A dark basement!

When you look around the bottom of the stairs, you see a small light switch that is integrated into the wall right on the first step.

With a 'Click' a light shines under the room, holding a broom, you go down the stairs. Every step you take on the stairs creates a very unpleasant sound to hear.

Until the last step, you can clearly see this basement.

This room is very classic but looks luxurious. There are leather sofas lined up around a glass table, there is a bar table and also a billiard table, there is a television with a wide and thin screen and is very luxurious which is displayed facing the leather sofa.

Slowly you look around and realize that there are many shelves for storing wine bottles and other liquor, you always knew that Alex really liked alcohol beyond your expectations, but you didn't know that this room even existed in this house.

The house where you and Alex live, a 3-story house, with a very large front and back yard, equipped with flower gardens and also a small lake that flows behind your house.

During the 2 years of your marriage with Alex, you didn't know that this room existed.

Walking through this basement, you see about 3 gold and black framed picture displayed on the wall, approaching the picture.

The first picture , is a picture of you and Alex who have just finished their wedding, in the picture you are very beautiful and beautiful, sitting smiling happily while holding a bouquet of flowers, while Alex stands behind you while holding your left shoulder, Alex is wearing a black shirt combined with a collar decoration and also a gold hanger on his jacket pocket which is united with roses.

Under the picture is your name and Alex's name and the date you got married.

Picture of alex and his family wearing all black suits, you don't know much about alex's family.

But when you married alex, only his mother and father came, you don't know why his other family didn't come, alex only told you that his other family was anti-social, and after that you didn't ask much.

On the wedding day, his father and mother didn't talk to you, but you only got a soft smile from his mother and a cold stare from his father.

In the picture there are so many people you don't know, they all sit in rows on the benches, but there's something strange, there are several women sitting on their knees below among several men you don't know. Then you see alex and his mother and father sitting in the right row that doesn't blend with the middle row, there you can see alex with an unfriendly and expressionless face, a facial expression that you didn't even know alex could make.

Under the frame, there is a bold text that contains.

'ARCEINT REIGENT FAMILY'

You don't think much and just guess that Arceint is Alex's extended family name.

Then, the last frame is a picture of Alex and his parents, and 4 people you don't know, they each sit on a bench, while the 4 people you don't know, 2 of them are men and they sit on a bench, but the other 2 are women, and they kneel beside the seats of the 2 men.

Blinking slowly, under the frame contains the name Alexandrovic Reigent Arceint, followed by Alex's father, Rovalnov Reigent Arceint, then Alex's mother, Ilvanna Rosye.

And the names of the 2 men whose names you are not sure which one is correct are Xirent Reigent Arceint, then the other one is William Reigent Arceint.

You can only guess that maybe these 2 people are Alex's older or younger siblings. Since dating and getting married, Alex has been very secretive about his family.

Looking at the other names there are 2 other names written there, you guess it is the name of 2 women who are sitting on their knees side by side.

The names there are written as, Lilya Ergevan, and also Belleriya Woods.

You think that why their names seem so beautiful and elegant?

Looking around the room again, you think to continue cleaning up Alex's work room that was delayed and only conclude that this basement room could be a room where Alex relaxes when he misses his family.

Just as you are about to step on a step, your eyes accidentally catch a corner of the room that is quite dark, and there is a white door in the corner.

People used to say, curiosity can be your death, so be careful.

*Source image : Pinterest

©️Nymphea0 2024 , OG story . Project Dark Romance Story 1.

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions , Always be good people Dear. Much love , Neva🦋🦋.

@snowflakes666

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x darling #yandere oc #yandere male #obsessed #possesive #nevaerah

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tbaluver · 3 months ago

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hi ree! i love your account so much and i always get so happy when i see your posts on my feed. would you be interested in writing headcanons of the lads boys with a s/o who is self conscious about her stretch marks? no worries if that isn’t your cup of tea!

When You're Self Conscious About Stretch Marks- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: comfort a/n: hi anonnie! i'm soso happy to hear that it makes me so happy when i see you guys in my inbox ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ don't worry this was def my cup of tea ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ i hope this was okay and you enjoy! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He would be genuinely confused because you're perfect to him and can't understand how you would find stretch marks to be something bad about yourself. He's a sucker for your stretch marks so he'll try to remind you every time that they're beautiful.

He loves the bumps and grooves on the back of your comfy thighs. He loves trailing his hands across your stretch marks when you're cuddling or when he's laying down on your lap.

He'll lift up your shirts and kiss any stretch marks that travel up to your tummy and he'll look and give you a warm smile if his kisses tickle your soft skin.

"These are a part of you and they all tell a story. I love every part of you including this." He says softly, pressing a gentle kiss on one of your stretch marks. "And this" He continues to kiss every stretchmark on your body, his touch showing you how much he cherishes each one.

Zayne:

He's a doctor and he's seen almost how every body looks and operates so he'll know that stretch marks are completely normal. He just didn't understand why you would care so much about something so small about stretch marks because they were natural for anyone growing. However he does know that this upsets you so he'll be understanding and sympathetic when you tell him about this.

"Stretch marks are just part of the skin and nothing more. They don't define who you are or how I see you. I don't see you differently if you had them or not."

Anytime you guys were intimate, he'd like tracing against them with his cool fingers and will mindlessly rub circles on your striped skin. It'll tickle you sometimes and a smile would twitch on his lips seeing the reaction out of you so he'll continue doing that. He'll keep continuing to run his hands across your body that had any of your marks to make you smile and laugh.

Rafayel:

He's very considerate towards any of your insecurities and makes it his mission for you to feel confident about it. He'll find ways to subtly compliment your stretch marks without directly calling attention to it.

Sometimes he'll take candid pictures of you to show you how beautiful you are in his eyes. He highlights your stretch marks throughout his pictures and paints them in a beautiful light.

"Look cutie, you're stretch marks are just like brushstrokes on a canvas- unique and beautiful in their own way."

He just adores you so much. He just thinks you're the most beautiful person to walk in his life or this planet and he just hates how you feel bad yourself in any way.

Sylus:

His brows would furrow when you explain how much you despised your stretch marks on your body. "Come here," He'd pull you closer to him, "I want you to know that I cherish every part and inch of you, including these." He'd place his large hands on where your stretch marks are and rubbed them lightly and lovingly.

He would tease you on it later though, "There is no reason to be ashamed of your stretch marks. It could just mean your finally growing to my height."

Would later show you exactly how much he cherishes your body by worshipping every inch and he'll make sure he doesn't miss a spot

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tojisun · 1 month ago

Text

(quietly) oh god thinking about kyle falling in love with his new neighbour.

How he was just going to crack open a window to let the breeze in only to stop at the sight of his neighbour and her daughter dancing in the rain, twin smiles tugging at their lips as they hop around in their front lawn, feet digging into the muddy parts of their grass garden, letting the water splash out.

Laughter trickles from the two, and it tickles Kyle’s ears, filling him up with such longing he can’t even put a proper name to it.

She is the single mother who moved from another country.

Why she settled in this little suburb, Kyle doesn’t know but he’s thankful of her because there are times when he forgets about many things—himself, for one; the touch of soft blankets and the feel of warm water, for another—but somehow he always finds himself snapping back to his body at seeing her.

At hearing her.

She is beautiful. She is beyond beautiful. She is—

God, how can anyone have that much fortitude and strength and love? How can anyone see the world so optimistically; so full of wonder?

“Oh, you,” she’d murmured, shy, when Kyle had told her of his thoughts, and he watched as her eyelashes brushed against her cheeks at her quiet chuckle.

Kyle’s throat had gone parched—he has never felt this type of yearning before; one that makes him full even when he’s yet to eat anything. One that lulls him to a quiet sleep like his mind and his body have finally found their centre of gravity; like they’re no longer unyielding nor unforgiving. But kind.

Filling. Wondrous.

“It’s because of my little duckling,” she continued, eyes crinkling in her delight. She turned to her snoozing daughter. “I would have been lost without my darling Pen.”

She looked at Kyle then, smiling like he wasn’t just a kind stranger. Like he wasn’t just a nobody.

Kyle stares at the them now, his lips quivering as he watches them dance and splash and giggle to each other. Their laughter sounds like chimes. Like twinkling bells. Like what home sounds.

Kyle stares at them now, wondering if he could ever be part of their family.

(He already is. Have been, for a while now.

Penelope adores Kyle. So much so that she would not stop asking you when could she play agIn with the kind man next door.

She tells you that Kyle is so patient—not in those words, but she tells you that Kyle always asks more about her stories, and asks her who are her friends and which of her collection of toys is her favourite.

And Pen is still too young to understand the word ‘patience’ but she tells you how Kyle is nothing but.

How he never once rejects her tea time invitation, even if the tea is just bottled sweet tea and grocery store cupcakes that you were able buy that week.

How he never once asks why she doesn’t know how to tie her shoelaces, and instead teaches her time and time again. That he never gets snappy even if she keeps forgetting.

She even recounts to you how excited she had been when Kyle showed up for the dad-daughter dance hosted at her school. He’d asked for your permission then, going shy as he stuttered out his, “But I don’t want to impose and you can say no, I swear, and we can just ignore this and—”

“Kyle,” you murmured, your eyes prickling with tears. “I’d be honoured if you were there for Pen.”

He said something to you then. It was a slip of his tongue, clearly something he didn’t want you to hear, and you honoured his wishes but when a man like Kyle—

No.

When Kyle says, “I wish I can be there f’r you too.” What is the natural reaction if not to let him know that he can?

That you want him too?)

(Penny likes Mr. Kyle.

He talks funny, like the many others in this new country.

Mama said it’s not nice to say that Mr. Kyle talks funny but Mr. Kyle is not angry. He just laughs with Penny, and says she should hear his best friend, Mr. Johnny, talk.

Penny is told Mr. Johnny sings more than he talks. Penny giggles at the idea of it.

Penny likes Mr. Kyle.

He is warm and he always has toffee in his pocket for Penny.

He also laughs loud, like the one from the belly, and she thinks that his laugh fills their house with how loud it is. Mama said that Mr. Kyle laughs loud so that the monsters under Penny’s bed would leave. Penny cried and said many thanks to Mr. Kyle after that.

Penny likes Mr. Kyle.

He…

He makes mama happy.

Not the way Penny makes mama happy. No one can make mama more happy than Penny could! But he buys her flowers and donuts and- and books! Adults are so weird.

Books are no fun.

Sometimes she wished Mr. Kyle can be her real dad.)

#kyle gaze garrick x reader #kyle gaz x reader #gaz x reader #suns #sometimes you hear a specific song that makes you long for a family. for something so #soft and mundane and ordinary #today is that day for me. i heard that song and here we are #penelope (for her wisdom) or irene (‘peace’)#were the names i wanted for the daughter hehe :3

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sashasspace · 5 months ago

Text

Love Language mod v1- the intro ♡

I can’t believe my first ever mod is finally out! I wrote it out in July 2021 hoping the day it could be a mod and the fact it is out now feels so surreal. The five love language mod in the sims! Yes, our sims can now have a love language as a trait. You can buy the trait from the rewards store and it costs 12 points. Once your sim has the trait, you can see it in the simology panel and then your sims will have wants surrounding their trait. I used ALL the packs to create this mod.

What are the wants we will see in game?

Most of the instructions are already in the game on how to complete the wants

Words of affirmation

For words of affirmation, your sim’s charisma skill is an important factor when it comes to their social interactions

Compliment outfit *skill 2 charisma*

Compliment appearance

Brighten day *skill 2 charisma*

Flatter *skill 3 charisma*

Ask about day

Express admiration

Whisper (any whisper social)

Profess undying love

Pickup line *for couples with high relationship, just have your couple flirt*

Sweet talk *skill 6 charsima*

Flirt

Declare love publicly

Get to know

Discuss interest

Deep conversation

Tell story (any story social)

Tell dirty joke *skill 4 comedy and also flirty*

Ask a risqué question

Write love email *skill 4 writing/ flirty mood*

Flirty text *could be regular text too*

Heartfelt compliment *happy mood*

Say affirmations

Write affirmations

Quality time

Ask about day

Watch movie alone or with someone

Play Console / PC alone or with someone *skill 4 video gaming*

Call someone

Chat on computer

Cook meal alone or with someone (any meals from all packs)

Picnic *spring/summer season*

Prepare drinks (any drinks from all packs)

Travel

Join in cooking

Workout *skill 6 fitness*

Dance together *skill 3 dance*

Pillow fight

Teach to knit *skill 10 knitting*

Play with sparkler *must be summer/fireworks must be on property for the want to appear*

Video call

Watch TV show

Take a bath *any bath*

Play board games *all table games included*

Gifts

Give gift *friendly, mean, funny or romantic*

Give simoleons

Treat yourself or any animal

Receive gift *open presents from seasons*

Buy something *retail, phone, computer purchase...etc.*

Offer rose *gift rose or flower arrangement in inventory/ buy from the flower stall*

Donate to charity *skill 3 charisma*

Give jewelry gift *gemology table*

Give a collectable as a gift *dig to find something or buy simmi capsule*

Acts of service

Call to meal

Be called to a meal

Make drinks for *use bar*

Prepare drinks (any drink from any pack)

Order drinks together / solo

Cheers *toast from seasons/ my wedding stories*

Order food from stall

Clean up

Repair

Give or receive massage *romantic base game social or spa day*

Cook (any meal)

Donate to charity *skill 3 charisma*

Order delivery

Serve tea/ be served tea *object from my wedding stories*

Hire a service (any service)

Volunteer *parenthood pack*

Physical touch

These wants need sims to have a first kiss to appear. For sims created in CAS as married or premades, they have to woohoo first for the want to appear.

Kiss

Kiss lover's cheek / family kiss *all sims are included in this interaction*

Hug / Embrace *all sims are included in this interaction*

Caress cheek

Snuggle your lover

Give / receive Massage

Look deeply into eyes

Feed a bite

Slow dance / sweetheart dance *My wedding stories/ High school years*

Cozy up by the fire

Woohoo (any location)

Cuddle while watching movie

Make out

Tickle

Credits 💕

Thank you Tee (danitysimmer) for helping me and teaching me all about modding. You are so patient with me and so understanding.. I’ll never forget your kindness. I pray you receive so many blessings in life

Jordy, thank you for motivating me to go back and cheering me on when I sent updates

My family and friends who cheered me on when I sent updates

Zerbu’s mod constructor v5 / Lot51 tuning builder

Sims 4 studio / Scumbumbo’s xml injector

Cinnasims for the pose I used / pose player mod

"The Five Love Languages" by Gary Chapman

Twistedmexi better exceptions

My amazing friends who tested this mod out thank you so much!

XML INJECTOR IS REQUIRED!!!!

Optional downloads ♥

UI Cheats Extension v1.41 | Patreon

MiniMod: Re-Roll Wants | Patreon

Video tutorial

CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD THE MOD Alternate Download

Brazilian Portuguese love language mod

French love language mod

Polish love language mod

Ukrainian love language mod

Spanish love language mod

FAQs ღ

Why is the mod not appearing for me? You don't have XML injector mod 💜

There will be future updates such as moodlets/buffs and love languages for children. If you have any issues, please contact me. I will try my best to figure it out. Tag me if you use the mod, I would love to see it in your game. Thanks for downloading and being patient with me. I wish you a lovely day!

Take care 🌙

🚨 For any modder who wants to translate any of my mods, I don't mind if you upload it on your patreon, or even any other website that monetizes, BUT I do not want you to post it on CurseForge. I would also like if you keep the mods publicly for download no early access.

#the sims 4 #simblr #sims 4 #ts4 simblr #simmer #black simmer #sims 4 mods #sims 4 love language mod

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mo0nfairy · 1 year ago

Text

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART ONE !

summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 5.7k.

content warnings :: mdni!! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, noncon touching, drugging, kidnapping, ptsd, violence, explosions, weapons, death, mild sexual themes, sexual harassment (done by some random npc), car crash, hospitals, reader breaks their arm.

──── Rain.

It's the first thing you are able to scrutinize once you come out of your state of comatose. You listen to the tumultuous melody as the droplets batter against the roof of the car. Even with your eyes locked tight, you are able to figure out where you are just by the rumble of the car engine, jostling you around when the tires hit a crevice in the road. A fuzzy, knitted blanket is adorned around your body. Your headphones are set on top of your head, a playlist of your favorite songs playing on a low volume. The sounds come out distorted, somehow, as if the lyrics were tripping over themselves and the tunes were awkwardly dancing with one another. It's almost as if you had been drugged.

The right side of your face is squished against something, which you now perceive as somebody's neck. The surface pushes your headphones uncomfortably into the side of your head. In a fruitless attempt to take them off, you realize you are paralyzed from head to toe. An arm is draped around your shoulder, the other firmly around your legs which are draped among their lap. Whomever this stranger is, they are quite brawny as they tighten their thick arms around you. They press gentle kisses to your forehead, the stubble of their beard tickling your skin. A deep voice whispers sugary affirmations against your temple, but you are unable to dissect them through the warped music and white noise. Have I been kidnapped? Who the fuck is this person?

With what little strength you have left in your body, you are able to peel your eyes open just a crack. You find yourself in the middle of the backseat (the safest spot in the car, which was certainly done on purpose). You find the arms draped around you are tan, adorned in heaps of black hair. Casting your gaze forward, you look to the driver. You see a woman with short, dirty-blonde hair whose slender fingers grasp hold of the steering wheel. The identity of these two people remains unknown to you. Looking at the windows, the rain cascading down the glass prevents you from pinpointing any potential landmarks. The only thing you can do is slump against this stranger and let yourself be driven far, far away.

You rewind into the past to collect any memories that would help decipher the current events. All you are able to garner is a crisp October evening, where you snuggled beneath a blanket in the safe expanse of your bedroom. You remember wrapping the blanket around your shoulders and strolling into the kitchen, where you would then make yourself a hot cup of tea. This was your normal night routine, you recall in defeat. The last memory you had would be of no use, considering the large gap in your mind once you drank the first sip of tea. So, you rewind even further to see if anything abnormal had occurred during the day.

You remember how you had spent your morning journaling in the garden, analyzing the faces of other patients and doctors wandering through your memory. Nothing stuck out, however, so you abandoned your reminiscing of this past morning. You then think back to group therapy at noon, where others would express their traumas from Raccoon City six years prior. You would tell your own story of the agony you endured and how you met several people who had protected you with their lives. Leon Kennedy, Ada Wong, Jill Valentine, and Carlos Oliveira — four names you would never forget.

Then, you would express the grief you felt when you were told none of them had survived the night. You had never felt so alone after. But, fortunately, you were then taken under the wing of this sanctuary built just for survivors. You have stayed in their habitation since.

The faces of those listening to your story were people you have seen every day; none of their features matched the physicality of the people in this car. With that, you fast forward further into the afternoon to find anything that sticks out. The heightened security that seemed to be reserved for you made you furrow your brow. However, it was nothing explicit enough to explain your current circumstances. Several guards stood outside your room as you lost yourself in the book you checked out from the sanctuary's library. The headphones you wore blared your favorite music and tuned out any and all outside noise. Even the hushed noises straight from your kitchen.

The hours of the afternoon faded away while you read through your book. It wasn't until a friend had come to your door to remind you of your plans to go stargazing did you realize the sun had begun to set. As they left, you decided to brew yourself some tea before you would join the others outside. You remember sitting at your frail kitchen table, blanket adorning your shoulders like a cape as you watched the tea kettle on the stove. Silence pervades and you can't help letting your mind wander. It has been six full years since the incident in Raccoon City. Still, your brain always seems to saunter back to the memories of that night.

You think of Leon Kennedy that night. You remember those pale blue eyes, freckled innocence, puppy-soft hair; you remember how he had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. Working at the Mizoil Gas Station, sitting right on the outskirts of the city, you're bound to face your fair share of weird regulars. And Leon Kennedy, by far, was the weirdest. A week before the night that sent your life into a tornado, you had met the new rookie who just arrived in town. And for seven days, you would always spot that familiar green jeep outside your workplace. His relentless appearances made you worry he had a hole in his gas tank or something. However, his visits weren't to grab gas or a quick snack for the road, it was to awkwardly lean against the counter and pathetically try to win your heart.

"Oh, hey Y/N! Funny running into you here..." The twelve visits a day spoil his attempts at being suave. "Yeah. I work here, Leon." His name sounds like nectar on your tongue, to a point where he is on the verge of outright begging you to say it. Even once more.

You then think of how during your closing shift, a coworker had become something ghastly, something monstrous. It all just happened so fast. You think of how you shielded yourself in your cramped work locker, limbs jutting out against the uncomfortable metal walls. To this day, you can still feel the suffocating tightness in your chest from holding back your sobs. All while you helplessly listened to the horrific sounds of your coworkers and customers being torn apart. You're entirely shaken with trauma, but with your brain in survival mode, you know this was no time to rest. Who knows how many more of those things will arrive? Now was your only shot at escaping this hellhole. So, you begrudgingly peel open the locker door and carefully inspect your surroundings. You grab a six-pack of beer on the desk beside you and take one of the bottles out. It was your only available weapon against your zombified coworkers, after all.

Blood paints your sneakers red and cheap beer stains your uniform as you fight your way out of the station. The sight of the entrance feels like a light at the end of the tunnel. Your lungs tighten with exhaustion as you continue to run towards it. That is until a firm grasp on your wrist halts your intentions. Swinging the bottle towards the assailant, they block it with ease and disarm you. It wasn't until a stuttering, concerned voice gasps your name do you realize that you almost just stabbed Leon Kennedy in the face. But God, you never thought you would be so happy for the persistent neediness of this cop.

You don't even know what had overcome you, but the sight of something human fills you with so much relief, you engulf the man into a hug. It lasted a mere second, but it was more than enough to get Leon's heart thumping in his chest. Even in the face of death, a smile tugs at his lips with any crumb of affection he can extrapolate from you. Muttering an apology to him, Leon disregards it entirely and stares at you with that dumb, love-struck expression. Your drop-dead gorgeous self; your witty comebacks that have his ribs tough with laughter… You, of all people, initiated affection with him, you actually wanted to touch him!

The roar of something inhuman cuts Leon off, to where he then bends down and scoops you into his arms. Without a second to resist, Leon (who is far too elated for comfort) sprints through the door with you and books it to his jeep. You're too busy staring at the store in trepidation to stop Leon from opening the car door for you, placing you in the passenger seat, and fastening your seatbelt for you. Almost as if you were a child, incapable of using your own hands.

The car ride to the Raccoon Police Department is quiet. Other than a few hushed reassurances of comfort from Leon, a heavy silence sits between the two of you. It's so bewildering that the people you had spent every day with are all dead. Not even dead, but zombie-fied creatures groaning to tear your flesh asunder. Your brain drifts to one coworker, in particular. One who was a master at getting under your skin. Manipulating your time alone to ask you out to dinner for the umpteenth time while tracing his hands over your skin. You never agreed, but with every attempt to bring this problem to your manager, it was always swept under the rug. And at last, you would have to endure the eerie smile and roaming hands of this middle-aged creep.

But now, things are different. You think about how he is now dead and can never touch you again; you think of how sickeningly good it felt to drive the rear end of a half-shattered bottle into his skull. Looking at your hands, you find your palms caked with his blood. Leon takes notice of this, taking one hand off the wheel and using it to grasp your hand into his. Electricity tickles through him from the contact. "You didn't have a choice" he assures in that soft tone reserved for you, but he is wrong. You did have a choice, and in the end, you wanted to hurt him.

"I wanted to. I wanted to kill him." Your gaze is locked on your red hands as you confess; Leon's gaze is fixated on you. "I just couldn't put up with him anymore. I finally got to fucking get back at him for once, to take advantage of him while he was weak." You don't even notice the tears streaming down your emotionally-drained expression.

You especially don't notice the sheer affect your words have on Leon. Tense jaw, flared nostrils, chest rising up and down with short breaths. What the fuck did he do to you? What had he done to push you, the angel of Leon's life, to such violent measures? He imagines his disgusting hands, dirtying your heavenly form; he imagines your face scrunched up with dismay, tears brimming in your eyes. And it absolutely destroys him. His heavy stare remains locked on you, entirely oblivious to any outside sources. No zombies, no eight-foot-tall tyrants — all that mattered was the audacity this dead man had to put his hands on you. And god, it makes him red with rage.

"Leon- LEON-!!" You shout out to warn him before the jeep then collides into a car wreck. It is pure mayhem as you shield your head with your hands and prepare for your demise. Leon’s arm stretches out over you in a desperate attempt to protect you. How ironic that in the face of a zombie apocalypse, you would die because of someone's poor driving skills.

You reluctantly open your eyes; you're alive. With your ears ringing out and your vision fuzzy, you manage to wrestle your way out of the jeep that had been flipped upside down. A grunt escapes from your chest as you make contact with the pavement. Something wet trickles down your head and from your nose, which doesn't take much for you to perceive as blood. You are so disoriented, you entirely forget about the man who was driving you just moments before. So disoriented, in fact, you don't hear the weak whimpers of your name from Leon as he watches you stumble further and further and further away from him.

You think of Ada Wong that night. You remember the click of her heels, her expensive perfume, her manicured nails; you remember how she had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. Somehow in your bewildered state, you had found yourself in one of the holding cells of RPD. You had collapsed against a metal bench, catching sight of a blood-stained first aid kit just within reach. You then tend to your wounds with feeble efforts. Soon, your senses clear, to where horrifying screams of agony echo through the large expanse. An unseen force rattles the room, and chunks of wall soar through the air from the cell beside you. There's a pop! before a deafening silence settles in the room.

All that is left in the air is your rapid breathing, waiting for your inescapable demise to embrace you. But, there is simply nothing to greet you but you and your thoughts. The gentle tap of quiet footsteps fills the permeating quiet. A woman then enters your train of vision, dressed in a trench coat, sunglasses, and stiletto heels. She stops in her tracks upon seeing you, seemingly inspecting you from behind her eyewear. With a tilt of her head, the woman steps through the threshold of your cell, where you then bundle yourself in the corner of the room. And you are just so adorable how you cave into yourself, almost like a bunny. So frail and terrified; too damn cute.

The way she walks to you is as if she were on a catwalk. Your trauma-ridden body trembles in fear with every step she takes closer. When she is just within reach, you act on instinct and push her away from you, racing past her and out of the cell. She barely stumbles from your attempt at an attack, an amused chuckle vibrating from her chest. You get a good several steps away before you finally discover what had made such a booming noise before. A man lies dead on the ground in the locked cell beside yours with a punctured hole in the wall. His dry mouth is hung agape and his body sits lifeless. Both eyes have been popped out of their sockets, blood seeping down his face and to the ground below. The woman follows you in your footsteps as you stare in horror. She merely tuts at the sight, a sigh of disappointment filling the empty air. How in the world is she not as terrified as you are?

"Come with me." Her voice is feminine, oozing with sultry confidence. It's soothing to listen to.

"Why?" Meanwhile, your voice is nothing like hers. Your speech comes out shaky and quiet, adorned in the fear this woman was apparently immune to.

"Well, you wouldn't want to end up like Ben, would you?" Your silence serves as your unspoken agreement. "Come now." In addition to her poised nature, her voice is also flat with demanding dominance. You find yourself blindly following her as she struts away.

Accompanying this woman as she walks through the police department as if she were the headline of a fashion show, you soon make it to the grimy streets of the city. During that time, she had introduced herself to you as Ada Wong, a spy working to retrieve the G-Virus. Why is she telling you the whole truth about herself, she doesn't know. Why did she make you follow her when she knows she works better alone, she doesn't know, either. There's just something about the way you cower into her when a zombie growls and the way your eyes glimmer with gratitude when she annihilates the monsters in your path. It makes her feel worthy, for something other than violence or money. As if she were the big, bad wolf who had fallen for the helpless bunny rabbit.

Now standing at the end of the street before the sewer entrance, you stare below in apprehension for what you have now learned lies within. This whole time, all the secrets Umbrella have were hidden right beneath your nose. Or better yet, right beneath your feet. A tank truck lies on its side several feet away from you and behind it, a trail of fire travels closer and closer. The flames and oil mending together then causes an explosion to erupt. Before you even had a chance to process anything, you're in the air, where you land in a patch of grass with a loud crack. Permeating pain courses through your right arm. From the time you had broken your wrist in 5th grade from attempting to climb a tree, you can tell your arm has suffered the same fate.

A leather-gloved hand then places itself onto your cheek. You look to see Ada, now with no glasses, tousled hair, and her coat discolored from grass stains. A dandelion had managed to wrangle itself with one of the dark-colored strands on her head. Playfully, you pluck the dandelion from her hair and gift it to her. Then, you make some joking remark about how it's a "thanks for the save earlier" with a weak chuckle. Your hand touches hers and something flutters within Ada's stomach — something grand, something scary. Something... warm. It stuns her into silence and catches her entirely off guard.

Her gaze shifts to your lips. Despite how chapped and dry they are, your bottom lip seeping with blood after the tough fall, they couldn't look any more appetizing to Ada. The mere idea of pressing her lips to yours causes her to relentlessly fall further and further into this unfamiliar, twitter-pated oblivion. You are just so benevolent, softhearted, and so, so bright. Ada's head is so fogged up with all sorts of devoted insanity, she doesn't take notice of the mass of zombies treading closer. While Ada is crouching beside you, she is then tackled to the ground. A pandemonium of zombies roaring ensues, and you're attacked by the undead, as well. With a hard kick to the skull of your assailant, you're able to wrangle yourself out of their grip on your leg. You stand to your feet and search for Ada to no avail, the heaps of zombies restraining you from any clarity.

With that, you turn tail and slam open the doors of the closest shelter you could find: Gun Shop Kendo.

You think of Jill Valentine that night. You remember her calloused hands, her rough-edged attitude, her scent of gunpowder; you remember how she had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. When you enter the gun shop, you're met with a man and a woman, both disheveled with dirt and blood. They point their guns at you upon your rushed entrance and in response, you raise your hands to surrender. The pummeling on the doors then has you all racing to barricade the entrance, using abandoned shelves and boxes as impromptu defenses. With heavy panting and a hefty barrier, the three of you stand, exasperated, trying to catch your breath. You sink to the floor and hold your arm, flashes of agony pumping through the broken limb.

Despite the danger just outside and your arm overcome with pain, this is the best you'll get in your current state. Shelter and weapons. You'll just have to endure how the shop owner shoved the barrel of his gun in your face and how the cop beside him sees you as gum beneath her shoe. Jill treats you like she does everyone else: ice-cold and blunt. She doesn't say a word to you; she barely acknowledges your presence. For that, you assume she hates your guts. Considering the circumstances, however, you don't take it to heart. Instead, you thank the two for allowing you to stay in the shop while the storm of zombies outside dies down.

However, things are quite different on Jill's end. The simple way you exist — it stuns her. Throughout her entire life, this dull ache has resided in her chest. She feels nothing. She would try and garner any feeling whatsoever; she'd do something adrenaline-inducing to feel fear, she'd do something ignorant to feel guilt. She would do everything to fill this hollow void within her. But, her incessant efforts were all brought to no avail.

That is until you came along.

Even though you're just some helpless civilian with no other desires than temporary protection, something foreign pervades her brain. Jill has come to realize you are far more than just the pretty face on the surface (although the idea of others witnessing your beauty causes her stomach to churn). She then tends to your broken arm, acting as if her heart wasn't running a mile a minute from the close contact. Meanwhile, lust-driven fantasies that would make even a harlot blush muddle her brain. To have you beneath her, staring up at her like that. You can't expect her to not swoon at the mere thought of how you'd taste, how you'd sound, how you'd tremble from her touch. Her mouth waters at the mental image alone.

Without thinking, Jill leans in to kiss you, fully ready to take you here on the floor of this filthy gun shop. The cock of Kendo's gun brings her out of her haze. You, on the other hand, assume this woman views you as nothing but a burden despite the clear display of infatuation in front of you. She informs you with a flat tone how survivors would be taken to the subway station, where they would then be transported out of the city. You thank her again for her hospitality, but mostly out of culpability. With your arm now covered with swiftly-made bandages, you reach with the other for an abandoned gun. Now that you've accepted the assumption this woman doesn't want a thing to do with you, the only way you'll get out of Raccoon City is by yourself. However, she blocks your attempt with a gentle grasp of your wrist.

"No need." Her voice is rough, but beneath the facade, it is timid and fearful.

"Why not?"

"You have me. I won't let anything happen to you." You stare at her, completely flabbergasted at the sudden alter in attitude.

The journey to the subway station was a breeze, to say the least. With your new bodyguard there to obliterate any danger in your path, it was practically a stroll in the park. She tells you her name and you tell her yours. Y/N Valentine has kind of a ring to it, Jill thinks. But with only just a few blocks to cross, something large, something beastly, something entirely inhuman stops you in your tracks. Incredibly massive with its large teeth protruding from its mouth, it groans a deep "S.T.A.R.S" before it begins to stomp towards you. Terror submerges your senses and immobilizes you. A red laser points from the rocket launcher in its hands, the dot sitting right by your feet. Jill then grabs hold of your hand and tries to run off with you, but her futile attempts were too late. A rocket then strikes the pavement and its force sends the two of you into the air. Your bandaged arm lands first against the unforgiving ground, anguish permeating your entire body.

You think of Carlos Oliveira that night. You remember his gruff voice, his kind heart, his dirt-caked skin; you remember how he had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. The pain in your arm is so blinding, there is nothing else you can think about. Not Jill, not Ada, not Leon, not the myriad of monstrous creatures on your tail. The only thing that exists right now is the torturous misery coursing through you. You're writhing on the cold pavement as you cling to your arm, cries of distress and exhaustion trembling from your chest. God, when will this nightmare fucking end?

The gut-wrenching entrance you're in is broken when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You expect to find Jill and her stone-cold, yet concerned expression, only to turn over your shoulder and see a complete stranger. He has a head full of messy, dark hair, with loose strands shielding his face; a strong body, with his military vest filled with heavy weaponry. His expression, however, was the most memorable. God, he looks at you as if you've hung the moon. His appearance is unkempt and dirty, but still overwhelmed with cheesy rom-com levels of infatuation. Why is this stranger looking at you as if you were walking down the aisle on your wedding day? You don't know. Besides, there are far more important matters to concern yourself with.

The heavy slam of Jill's boots reverberates as she sprints over to you. She helps you to your feet, not without a quick glare at the man beside you that reads "don't you fucking touch them." Jill puts your intact arm around her and leads you into Moon's Donuts, all while the deafening sounds of gunfire and grisly roars echo from behind. You don't dare turn around; you couldn't bear to look at that abomination once more. The quiet hum of heavy rock welcomes you as you enter the deserted donut shop. You practically collapse into one of the booths, Jill following behind and sitting across from you. With an exhale of relief, you relax into the seat and hold your arm in an attempt for temporary comfort. The man from before enters shortly, as well, then barricades the entrance with ease.

Your bandages are now torn and peeling. In an effort to fix it yourself, that same agonizing pain satiates through your arm instead. You hiss in response, alerting the two others. The man leans down before you, introducing himself as Carlos Oliveira, then eagerly asking you to inform him of your name. You oblige and he visibly shivers when your skin makes contact with his, an expressed concoction of nerves and irrepressible obsession. Upon gingerly grasping hold of your arm, he uses medical equipment from the various pockets around his chest and tends to you. His touch is careful, delicate — as if you would drift away if he applied any pressure. With every whimper and groan of pain from you, shocks are sent straight to his heart. Carlos had just met you moments ago yet still, he can't fathom the idea of you in pain. He assumes it's merely empathy, but when he feels tears brim in his eyes at the sight of you suffering, he knows this isn't normal.

With Jill's hand on your shoulder, consoling you through the pain, Carlos finishes swiftly before reluctantly breaking physical contact with you. He then gives you his canteen bottle, allowing you some water after your exhausting efforts to survive. You down the water like you've been parched for years. In the process, you are entirely oblivious to the heavy breathing from Carlos, who is left stunned at the prospect of an indirect kiss. Your lips against his — he feels his cheeks heat up from the idea alone. He doesn't realize how totally deranged he looks in his lovesick hysteria before the sharp snap of Jill's fingers brings him back to reality. Her possessive stare, her physical affection with you. Carlos feels his world crumble at the revelation that falls: you belong to Jill. The partner of his dreams is sitting right in front of him, but at the same time, is entirely out of reach. And it shatters him.

With that being said, Carlos isn't always the most articulate with his attempts at garnering information, hence why he stuck to the guns. So, as Jill and Carlos guard you like feral dogs with a bone while you travel back to the subway, he lets his facade slip.

"So... Are you two-like... Are you guys-um? Like, together?" Smooth as silk, Carlos. Smooth as silk.

Jill rolls her eyes in response. Mostly due to how annoying she thought him to be, but especially due to the fact that you aren't actually hers. Meanwhile, you tilt your head in confusion like a lost puppy (and you miss the way they visibly melt from the sight). After another fit of relentless stammering from Carlos, Jill finally clears the air.

"No, we're not dating." It hurts her to say it, evident in the way she clenches her jaw in an attempt to suppress her protruding emotions. Meanwhile, Carlos is sent to cloud nine.

Despite the blood, death, and gore he had witnessed in a single night, he had never felt so elated in all his years alive. Jill scoffs at his thinly-veiled euphoria, before grasping your hand and treading forward. Through trial and error (and more zombies than you could count), the three of you finally make it back to the subway station. You could cry, it's almost over. However, you can't help but notice how Jill and Carlos are perceptibly devastated by the idea of letting you go.

You hug Jill. It was nothing intimate, merely a thanks for the help she had provided you. Still, her body goes rigid and her heart flourishes with every kind of emotion she has never felt before. Through all the revelations that have taken place in this hellhole of a night, none of it compared to the earth-shattering emotions you have given her. Fear, lust, jealousy, devotion — it's all so overwhelming and she loves it.

You hug Carlos next. Again, nothing intimate or ulterior about the act of affection. But just like Jill, his heart practically detonates from the close contact. If only you could see his love-struck face; his expression is practically straight out of a cartoon. Cupid's bow through his chest, bluebirds swarming around his head and all. When the friendly hug soon started to turn into a romantic embrace, you push yourself off of Carlos, excusing his actions as nothing short of post-traumatic nerves.

With that, you join the other civilians on the train. The subway doors close behind you as you look at the survivors around you. All of them are riddled with trauma, shaken and silently weeping from the sights they have witnessed. Despite the harrowing circumstances, you're alive. That is all that matters and you could not be more grateful. Sitting on an empty seat, an exhale of relief escapes your chest. The train whirs as it begins to move. You turn your shoulder and look through the filth-stained windows to find Jill and Carlos, eyes blown wide with emotion as they watch you leave them. They stand in the same place you had left them, gazing wistfully at the love of their life. Picking up speed, you are soon out of their sight and they are now without the one they love most. And the sheer affect it has on them is gut-wrenching.

Fortunately for you, the ride out of the city is plain sailing. And with no S.T.A.R.S. members on the train, there is no 8-foot-tall creature there to set everything ablaze. You have now become one of the very few people who can say they made it out of Raccoon City alive.

You think of Raccoon City the morning after and the consequences that came from surviving. You think about what Carlos had said to you in the midst of danger. "I'm not gonna die on you and leave you in a cold, cruel, Carlos-less world." Liar.

Upon escaping the city safely, you and the other survivors were sent to a local hospital. From thereon, you would spend the next several days there (and finally receive proper treatment for your broken arm). After several days of anxiously anticipating the well-being of your friends and the entirety of Raccoon City, a doctor you had never seen before enters your room in the dead of night. Introducing himself as Dr. Matt Gorkis, he then reveals the news of the missile strike sent to the city and how there were no other survivors. A wave of devastation and helplessness washes over you. Weeping softly, the doctor bluntly provides details of the matter.

He then informs you of a sanctuary being built just for survivors of the incident. There will be provided shelter, basic necessities, and all sorts of therapeutic activities that will help you during your healing journey. And with your job, your home, and all of your friends eradicated to dust, you know you have no other choice. With another month of being tested for infections and going through physical therapy, you are released from the hospital and sent away with the doctor. For the past six years, this sanctuary is what you have learned to call home.

The hissing of the tea kettle makes you jump, bringing an abrupt halt to your road trip down memory lane. And while you pour yourself a cup of tea, you realize that your memories will be of no use for your current circumstances. For now, you'll have to let yourself be lulled to sleep in the back of this stranger's vehicle, driven far away to god-knows-where. But, the embrace the person has on you is so warm, so inviting. Your body can’t help but succumb to the relaxation this stranger provides.

You just hope that when you wake up, whatever welcomes you isn't anything reminiscent of the nightmare you faced six years ago.

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 ۫ you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

❝ MY LOVE, MY DARLING

I'VE HUNGERED FOR YOUR TOUCH . . . ❞

not a single person had asked for this, but it has been all my brain has been able to think about. i hope u all can appreciate some breadcrumbs from the ramblings of my heart hehe.

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xiao-come-home · 6 months ago

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I love reading your random Boothill thoughts 🥲. Especially the one where he is a dad. Do you think he is a girl dad or boy dad?

Ahhh thank you! Ik you sent it before his story was leaked but man was this spot on 🫠 here’s some dad!boothill hc with reader because im starving

Warning: mentions of pregnant reader and all that jazz, SPOILERS FOR BOOTHILLS STORY.

I FELT IN MY BONES he was a girl dad before it was revealed to be canon! Boothill gives so much girl dad vibes it’s immaculate. He’d love to pick out pink clothes for his daughter, pink shoes, ponies and other plushies! Or rather, he loved.

That’s until you happened to get pregnant shortly before he left for his surgery. He came back a few weeks later with his new body, but no one was home. A small gift bag sat on the table, waiting for him; Boothill opened the bag and grabbed a piece of long paper, a black and white picture. A small bean present in the middle; the back of the picture held a tiny caption, that read: “I’m only a few weeks old. I can’t wait to meet you, daddy.”

Even though the wound was still fresh and open, since not long has passed since the incident on his planet - Boothill began to feel bitter determination to give his baby the best life they could ever have; this time, a life that wouldn’t see its end so fast.

Boothill is very interested in your pregnancy! He’s sometimes unable to go to every appointment (whether be it the ipc who are hunting him, or the opposite), but he knows he can’t mess it up. Not again. He’s always holding your hand when you have an ultrasound scan, glaring at the doctor and making sure they don’t hurt you or the baby, and giving your tummy so. many. kisses. He assists you in the bath, just talking to you can keeping you company, since water, cords and a pregnant human aren’t a good combo. He wants you to tell him everything.

That’s when you finally tell Boothill that you’ll have a baby girl - his mechanic heart shatters and swells with love at the same time; it’s such a strange feeling, that makes the cowboy feel a little guilty. Both of you fall silent, until Boothill makes a move and closes the distance between you, smiling sadly at you and softly caressing your stomach with his hand, “I’ll treasure her forever.”

There are days when Boothill truly feels like the hole in his heart cannot be healed after your first daughter, but he knows she’d love to have a little sister. Yet he’s here, now a cyborg and the only memory of her is just one, lonely picture. He makes sure to never let her existence fade away by telling your round tummy that he’ll love them both until the end.

On a happier note, Boothill is just. Such a good dad, but also a chaotic one sometimes, especially if your daughter inherits her dad’s personality. They’re doing everything together - if she wants to have her hair braided, he does so, and lets her braid his (even if his hair gets so tangled at first, to the point he has to cut it 😭), good god! He loves her so much and always hugs her so tightly when she runs up to him after she notices her dad is back home.

Boothill just loves hearing her little giggles and always makes her laugh! Sometimes he tickles her so much she throws her plushies at him.

Boothill wants all her milestones to be forever preserved. He has tons of pictures of her, a few photo albums - it’s never enough. He’s so proud when she says her first word, when she takes her first steps by herself, her first drawing for him (even if she drew it on the fridge with a black marker), her first birthday. He wants to give her everything she could ever have.

Boothill might've cried the night when his little baby drew him a family portrait - with you, herself, her daddy and older sister. He's injected in her every possible good memory about her, and she never fails to appreciate her older sister even if she isn't there, knowing her dad still loves her just as much.

When Boothill’s little princess cancels the weekly tea party he’s always attended, it’s HIM who feels sad about and pouty about it.

Boothill buys his daughter tons of different hats! They’re always carefully picked and he makes sure she likes them waiting for her approval, but most of the time she wants to just wear his. She doesn’t care she’s drowning in it, it’s the best because it’s Boothill’s hat.

Even though Boothill never mentioned her anything about playing guitar, one day she started to play him a tiny bit of song she learned at school - although clumsily and due to stress, Boothill listened to her and threw her in the air in happiness when she finished - he knew it was your job and couldn’t be more thankful. Once again, he made yet another guitar in his life - this time to finally listen to his little one’s music and teach her many, many other songs they’d later play and sing together.

Oh god, when Boothill’s daughter announced her “boyfriend” she met at daycare, he just stared at her with wide eyes. This is also an instance where he cried that night and you had to calm him down. Later on he insisted to be the one to take her to daycare, and gently threatened the said toddler, “look, stinker. Don’t ya dare GET NEAR ma lil’ angel, or else.” This was his last visit without your supervision. And also, your daughter just laughed at him and left… so yeah, plan failed successfully, I guess?

Mandatory naps with daddy after daycare. Well, Boothill only pretends to sleep when she looks at him - but once she falls asleep on his chest, he looks at her with so much love, gently resting on his chest and stroking her hair, that was just like his and adoring her tiny face, that he thought was the most perfect mix of you and him. Boothill shushes you with his finger quietly, when you ungraciously enter your home. A content smile appears on his lips when you give him and your daughter an apologetic kiss on their foreheads, still hearing her snoozing tenderly.

#honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill #boothill hsr #boothill x reader #.anon thirst

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literaryvein-reblogs · 17 days ago

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100 Words for Worldbuilding

Some sensory words that can enhance your story/poem.

A-E

Acid - sour, burnt; vinegary

Acrid - strong, biting (e.g., something on fire)

Airy - natural smelling, (e.g., clean, fresh air)

Ambrosial - fragrant; having a pleasant smell

Aroma - strong, yet pleasant scent

Aura - smell surrounding something

Balm - soothing scent

Billowy - scent that surges and wanes

Biting - pungent, sharp or harsh

Bouquet - blend of floral scents

Briny - salty

Buttery - smooth; rich; greasy

Citrusy - crisp notes of any citrus fruit

Clean - very light scent, clean and natural

Cottony - soft; smooth or delicate

Creaky - squeaky; showing signs of deterioration

Crisp - fresh and natural

Crystalline - strikingly clear or sparkling

Dirty - nasty, unpleasant odor

Doggy - odor like an unbathed or wet canine

Downy - soft, soothing; silky; delicate

Earthy - recently dug or tilled soil

Essence - basic, natural scent

F-M

Faint - very light or mild; can barely be detected

Feminine - floral fragrances

Fetid - decaying or rotting smell

Fishy - smelling of fish; pungent, strong, unpleasant

Fleecy - shaggy; woolly

Floral - scents associated with flowers

Flowery - fragrance similar to flowers

Foamy - frothy; bubbly

Fragrance - pleasant smell

Fresh - natural smelling, rather than artificial

Fruity - having the flavor or aroma of ripe fruit; sweet

Gaudy - excessively showy

Gingery - pungent; sharp, robust taste or aroma

Globular - spherical

Gossamer - light, delicate, or insubstantial

Grainy - coarse; sandy; unrefined

Heady - very strong aroma

Incense - strong scent

Lemony - tart, piquant citrus notes

Lilac - rich floral scent combining rose with vanilla

Lime - refreshing and zesty citrus smell

Loamy - fragrance with an earthy note

Masculine - earthy fragrances

Medicinal - earthy; often unpleasant

Mildewed - soaked in wetness that has gone stale

Minty - menthol-like smell (e.g., mint tea or peppermint candy)

Misty - mild fragrance, not overpowering

Moist - smell of dew or rainfall

Moldy - damp, fungus-like odor

Musty - old smell; stale and probably moldy

N-R

Nauseating - odor that makes one sick to the stomach

Odorize - changing the scent

Overpowering - too strong of a smell

Peppery - hot, pungent, fiery; stinging

Perfumed - artificial fragrance, not natural-smelling

Pheromone - natural scents

Piercing - loud, shrill; biting

Pine - crisp, refreshing evergreen smell

Piquant - pleasantly pungent, sharp, or spicy taste

Plastic - artificial chemical polymer odor

Poignant - pungently pervasive; piercing

Prickly - stinging; irritating; itchy

Pristine - fresh and clean as or as if new

Pungent - strong fragrance

Putrid - stench of decay

Rancid - spoiled; food that has gone bad

Rank - offensive in odor or flavor

Redolent - having a strong, permeating odor

Repulsive - off-putting odor

Rich - strong, resounding smell that is appealing to the senses

Ripe - brought by aging to full flavor or the best state

Rose - spicy yet sweet fragrance

Rotten - spoiled, rancid, unpalatable

S-Z

Savory - spicy, salty scent that has no elements of sweetness

Sharp - pungent fragrance that permeates the air

Skunky - noxious smell that lingers; sulfuric (like rotten eggs) odor

Smoky - scent of burning wood

Soapy - smooth and slippery

Sour - rancid, sickly sweet smell

Spicy - sharp, heady, can sting or tickle the nose

Spoiled - rotten; something that has “gone bad”

Stale - old, dusty, stagnant odor

Stinking - unpleasant, foul smell

Sweaty - perspiration odor

Sweet - sugary smell

Tangy - having a powerfully stimulating odor or flavor; acidic

Tantalizing - arouses or stimulates desire or interest

Tart - sharp fragrance or taste

Tasteless - arousing no interest; dull

Tempting - having an appeal; enticing

Trace - a tiny amount of fragrance

Velvety - soft, smooth, thick, or richly hued

Vinegary - sour; disagreeable, bitter, or irascible

Whiff - a fleeting scent

Wispy - hint of fragrance in the air

Woodsy - forest-like smell

Zesty - sharp and pleasantly stimulating

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Worldbuilding ⚜ Word Lists ⚜ Writing References

#worldbuilding #word list #writeblr #dark academia #spilled ink #literature #writers on tumblr #writing reference #writing prompt #poets on tumblr #poetry #writing inspiration #writing ideas #descriptors #creative writing #fiction #writing resources

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gladdygirl18 · 9 months ago

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Very happy with this tickle tea story this time around!

Blue me, Pink GF

This is gonna be a bit long so continue under cut

So this weekend, my GF and I were chilling in my dorm doing some work. On occasion, she would get up from the desk and poke my sides just because. At one point, when I was working on a story, she came up behind me ans started spidering her fingers up and down my arms and sides, making me giggle and squirm (i swear, her gentle tickles are so.... tickly lmaooo 😆🥰) Another time was when I sat in her lap, she started to gently glide her dull nails along my sides, but it wasn't enough to actually tickle.

"If you're trying to tickle me, you're gonna have to try harder than that."

Yeah... I said that. The guts I had to say that to my GF astonished me as well. My GF scoffed before she started squeezing and kneading my sides, making me snicker and giggle.

"Uh huh, careful what you wish for hun."

AHHHHHHHH SHE UNDERSTOOD THE ASSIGNMENT, THANK GOODNESS 🥰😆💖

The next day (saturday evening), my GF and I were at it again working on school work and personal work. While I was reading for a class, I was struck with the most intense lee mood ever, omggg 😳😳💖 so i turned to one of my good friends here on Tumblr @giggly-squiggily told her about my dilemma. Basically, how the convo went was me very flustered and worried about asking her to wreck the shit outta me cuz while I did tell her that i liked being tickled, I was afraid with how she would react if i asked her to tickle me senseless. Squiggly had said (to sum it up), "If she loves you even after telling her you liked being tickled, how will this be any different?"

So after a few minutes of hesitation, I ended up going towards my girlfriend and sitting in her lap and hugging her (she already finished her schoolwork).

"Are you okay, hun?"

*nods*

"You sure? You look like you have a lot on your mind. Talk to me, please."

"It's nothing. I'm just really stressed and..... don't really know how to get rid of it."

"Aww" *hugs me tighter* "Is there anything I can do to help?"

*hesitates and starts blushing slightly* "There is something you can do...."

"What is it?"

*groans slightly and buries face into her shoulder*

*Pulls away and stares into my eyes* (her grayish-hazel eyes are so beautiful omgggg 😳🥰💖😍)

"N-necesito sonreir...." ("I need to smile" in Spanish, context)

*Sighs and smiles before taking out my earbuds* "Alright"

She then starts kissing my neck, and omgggg i swear i got more ticklish cuz of her. When I tried to pull away, she grabs me places me in her lap and says, "Come here you!"

BROOOOO I DON'T DESERVE HER! SHE TAKES ON THIS TICKLE MONSTER ROLE TOO WELL 😆😆😳💖🥰💖🥰

After she said this, she started kissing my neck again gently tickling my sides. Anytime I tried to pull away, she'd gently pull me back into her lap. She then slowed to a stop before pulling me into a hug.

"Feeling better?"

*giggles and nods*

While she didn't "wreck" me, that alone expelled all the stress I had. After this, she started playing Nexomon on my switch (really cool monster catching game, def recommend if you're a fan of those kind of games) She kept getting Mega Rares after Mega Rares as well as getting 2 Specials back-to-back. When she ran into a Mega Rare (it resembled a dog) I practically begged her not to kill it. She looks at me dead in the eyes will her Nexomon brought it down to 0HP. I tried to stop her but it was too late.

"WHY DID YOU KILL THE DOGGO?!!? WHYYYY!?!!?!?"

*laughing her ass off* "Why not?"

*Gets annoyed and starteds tickling her*

"Stohohohop! it had it coohohohohoming!"

"NO IT DIDN'T! WHYHYHYHY!!?!?!?!"

She then does the same thing 3 more times after that, pissing me off and leading to more tickles (she was only doing this to piss me off but it was still fun to have a mini back and forth tickle fight with her 💖🥰)

As the night went on, we cuddled and made out (as per usual 🥰💖) and it was my turn to be the weighted blanket. While practically sitting on my GF, she smiled before gently gliding her dull nails along my sides, but again, not enough to tickle. Like I said before, "If you're trying to tickle me, you're gonna have to try harder than that."

My GF scoffed before adding a little more pressure to her tickles and started moving her fingers in a circular motion in one spot (where my ribs meet my sides) I started surpressing my smile and tried to hide my snickering in her shoulder.

"There we go~ Come on hun, just let it out~ You know you wanna~"

SHE RARELY EVER TEASES ME LIKE THIS OMGGGGGGG 😳😆💖AND TICKLED LIKE HELL GOODNESS

i was genuinely struggling to not laugh. Then this little gremling started TICKLING MY ANKLES! WHY THE FUCK ARE ANKLES SO DAMN TICKLISH!!??!? When that got more of a reaction from me, she chuckled and said, "Haha that's it, there we go~"

MISS GIRL STOOOOOP! THE TEASING WAS NOT HELPING AT ALL 😳😳😆💖💖😆

She then started spidering her dull nails across my socked feet and my dam finally broke. When that happened, my GF laughed before pulling me into her chest, moving back to tickle my sides, and kiss my neck!

😭🥰😆I LOVE HER SO MUCH OMGG😭😆🥰

And that's how my weekend was. So happy that all of this took place! Stay tuned for another tickle tea story! Also a big and special shoutout to @giggly-squiggily for encouraging me to ask my girlfriend for tickles (even tho I've done it before, my Lee mood made it so difficult 😅💖)

Tagging the fwends: @giggly-squiggily @cutesmokes @burningablaze @sunstone-smiles @otomiyaa @lovelymessybubbly

#irl story #tickle tea stories

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briseroyawritingsblog · 24 days ago

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Can we please have a fluff story with sickie reader and Hugh as caretaker? Pretty pleasee 🥺❤️ Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆

𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓!𝒃𝒇!𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact, fluff, sick day, cuddles, kissing, tummy rubs, babying, pet names. etc.

𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: to all girlies who are lonely, when sick.. and to all girlies who adore this man and wish he was theirs. 🤍 thank you for requesting this nonnie, i hope you like it.

𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

divider by the lovely @anitalenia 💌

“In bed you go..I got you some breakfast” you pouted watching him slip on your fluffy socks. He kissed your hand and sighed helping you under the covers. “M’sorry.. we had our date planned” you reach for his hand eyes pleading. “Want me to feed you princess?” Sitting next to you, your heart fluttered with love. “I wish i could kiss you right now..” you whine and he laughed under his breath. Soothing your hair gently. “I want to kiss you.. you know i do..” you nodded. “I know but you’re not allowed I don’t want to get you sick daddy..” you whisper lightly rubbing his knuckles. “Damnit.. what a shame..” he smirked, taking the bowl of warm sweet oatmeal in his hand dipping spoon in it feeding you to it. It was delicious, topped with honey.. banana and forest fruit. You sat against the headboard pulling the covers up to your chin shivering again. Your cheeks warmed up, he touched your forehead “don’t worry about a stupid date.. I will take care of you” he nuzzled your cheek before pulling away feeding you some breakfast. You whined, feeling your body melting away. “daddy..” you sighed getting your belly filled with homemade oatmeal by your boyfriend your sick day just got brighter. “Drink your tea.. and don’t forget to take your meds– can you do that for me kitten?” you smiled at him– his care made you fall in love with him even more. Kissing your forehead standing up to leave to the kitchen. You nodded drinking your mint tea, then eating your meds.

when hugh returned from the kitchen you were passed out burning with fever. your cheeks hot, lips parted. He sighed taking off his hoodie, sliding in bed next to you pulling you in– letting you lie on his chest. You got comfortable, when a sneeze woke you. He grabbed a tissue wiping your nose stroking your hair again. “Shhh.. s’alright buttercup..” your eyes filled with tears, as you snuggled yourself in his large arms. “I feel like a sick kid..” you sobbed. “You’re my sick baby and I don’t care if I get sick from you.” He cuddled you close bringing his mouth to yours kissing you, kissing your tears away.

“I’m so sorry” you moaned softly against his lips as he kissed you snuggling even closer to him. He chuckled lightly “You will be…” tickling your sides gently you giggled feeling your fever leave your body. As if he was your energy.. he was truly the love of your life and nothing would ever change that. “I love you so much..” you nuzzled his cheek. He cupped the back of your hair “I love you more.. now where does it hurt?” You put his hand on your belly. He rubbed circles on your belly giving you your water bottle. “Plenty of water baby, and sleep..” you nodded listening to your daddy. “I got you sick now too.. you kissed me” he smiled kissing you again; and again, and again planting kisses all over face. “Little flu won’t kill me. Now sleep” he sighed letting you take large gulps of water and settle in bed next to him. Closing your eyes. He made sure you were warm enough, like that he watched you sleep. And suddenly.. you became his world all over again.

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman fluff #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x y/n #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x female reader #hugh jackman imagine #hugh jackman fanfiction

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mountainsandmayhem · 1 month ago

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REQUEST Hi it’s me again…. Sorry i have new ideas like every second. I LOVE Joel’s thick jacket he wore when he was in snowy Jackson. I was thinking like Joel holding reader EXTREMELY tight like freaking grizzly bear type strength while they are wrapped into his jacket like a burrito. Maybe they’re sick or just really cold, idk i’m sick rn i’m just talking about myself with Joel at this point 😭. Again sorry I dont know how to shorten my words.

Never apologize!!! Pop in anytime, but only for a point form story or little blurb haha! I’m hoping you mean this jacket….

You felt it before you even open your eyes that morning. An annoying tickle, right at the back of your throat, yet also in your nose and somehow your ear.

Joel’s lips pressed softly to your forehead as you stir awake. “Bye, baby. I’ll see you when I get back from patrol. ” He hovers for a minute before the back of his hand meets your forehead. “You feel a bit warm, but you also have like seven blankets on. I love you.”

“Be safe, my love.” You mumble, keeping your eyes shut tightly as if that will rewind time and you can go back to what you and Joel were doing last night. His hands on your hips as you straddle him. His lips touching every spot they can reach.

As he pulled away you were left with the scent of leather and pine needles.

It must be cold out, you thought to yourself, if he’s wearing his thick coat.

As you peel yourself out of bed you noticed the achy joints that usually go along with the itchy throat. All signs of an oncoming cold, or allergies, but it’s the tail end of fall and your allergies are usually reserved for the spring.

A chill spreads through your sore body once out of bed. I don’t have time to get sick.

As the daylight ticks by, the aching intensifies and the itch becomes a sniffle. By the time you leave your job at the stables, you’re freezing cold and have an annoying little cough that will catch you in surprise fits.

When Joel walks in the door you’re in a pair of his wool socks, 2 pairs of sweat pants, a sweater, one of his button down flannels, a winter hat and have a blanket wrapped around you. Your teeth chatter as you stand by the stove, waiting for your water to boil so you can make some of Maria’s homemade loose leaf tea to help fight off whatever you’ve caught.

“Whoa, it’s hotter than the Texas sun in here,” he proclaims as he takes his boots off, as he unzips his jacket and steps into the kitchen he freezes in his tracks.

“Oh, baby girl,” he coos softly. “Are you ok?”

“No,” you say, your voice muffled from how stuffed up you are.

“Aww honey,” he says softly, pulling you into his arms. On instinct your hands come out of the blanket, reaching into his thick leather coat to wrap around his waist. He pulls you in tightly, and then grabs the lapels of his coat to practically plaster you to him.

“I’m so cold,” a sniffle finishing the statement for you as you try to take in the smell of leather you love so much.

Joel starts the walk the two of you towards the bedroom, every muscle in your body protesting as you go. “Let me get you all tucked in and then I’ll make your tea. You should have asked Maria to send someone for me. I would have came home, baby.”

“Everything hurts,” you pout into his chest.

He gets you in bed and then slips his jacket off, laying it on top of you like a blanket before putting the actual bedspread over you.

“I know, I’m here now. Just rest. I’ll be right back with your tea.”

That’s the last thing you remember until the next morning. When you wake up you’re still wrapped in Joel’s jacket, only you’re on your side, your back pressed tightly to his front. His arm is wrapped around you protectively and you sink back into his warmth. You breathe in through your nose, getting just a hint of that leather and pine, and drift off again.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller fic #joel fluff

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beardedjoel · 11 months ago

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smother - part iii: compliance

dark!joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: the deeper you fall into his trap, the further you start to lose a sense of what you really want. 10.4k words chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI! noncon, nonconsensual touching, dubcon - reader eventually enthusiastically consents but the syndrome is stockholming so its dubcon, coercion, reader is a virgin, big juicy age gap (reader is 19, joel is 55), ddlg (no infantilization of reader) daddy!dom joel is coming out to play this chapter, fingering, handjob, joel's corruption kink confirmed here, joel is both mean (hurts reader briefly) and sweet once again, if these darker tags aren't your cup of tea please keep scrolling! a/n: oh we're SO back with some smut this chapter! this story has me pushing my own limits on creativity and stuff and that has really been rewarding so far, i love it and i love dark!joel. anyhoooo please enjoy my lovelies 🤍 reminder i have no taglist anymore! follow @beardedjoel-updates and turn on notifs for when i post there!

It’s okay it’s okay it’s okay…

Joel’s words echo in your ear from where they were whispered moments ago as he pressed himself into you from behind, urging you up the stairs towards his bedroom. One hand gripped firmly on your upper arm, the other on the small of your back, fingers exploring along your bare skin. You turn back once more with worried, widened eyes as you reach the top of the steps and he presses against you again, nearly pushing you.

“I got ya, sugar” he says quietly, stopping for a moment to nuzzle into your neck before pushing you along. The new pet name he’s trying out makes you blink a few times, half liking the sweet implication. His deep breath in and out tickles your skin and you suddenly feel itchy from his facial hair scratching there. Panic claws its way up from your stomach, suddenly unsure of everything, like you’re just snapping out of the stupor you were in from Joel’s lips.

Joel had made you feel good downstairs just moments ago, giving you that first, unforgettable kiss. It was so much more hungry and wet and passionate than you’d ever envisioned a kiss being, and it made you feel even more anxious that you truly were out of your depth here.

You’ve managed in your fog to pad your way to Joel’s bedroom with him close behind you, his heat seeping into your skin, his body close enough to morph right into yours. He spins you immediately to face him and starts to kiss you again the moment you’re inside his bedroom. After just a moment of surprise, you fall right back into it, his tongue dancing a perfect rhythm against yours and you whimper and moan quietly. You find your body wanting to be closer closer closer to him so you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers grazing right against the curls at the base of his neck.

Joel pulls back to smile down at you, a wicked thing as his eyes glint before he dives back in. He’s devouring you, hands all over your body as if he doesn’t know which spot to get enough of next. He’s suddenly lifting you up, large palms spread underneath your thighs as he hoists you up against him, carrying you so that you don’t have a chance to stop him from bringing you to his bed.

That same bed you’d seen him just hours earlier, the moment that had started this fucked up chain of events you’d fallen into.

“There we go, jus’ relax,” Joel coos as he lays you down flat, your head right against the mattress. He climbs on top of you, trapping you completely before his lips smash into yours again. He’s taking now, giving you no room to push back or speak as his tongue laps into your mouth over and over, hearty groans escaping him. Sounds that a famished man makes eating his favorite meal. It makes you shudder, the way you’ve started to feel like his meal, like something he could just enjoy and toss away the scraps he leaves afterwards.

“Christ, so fuckin’ innocent, sugar. I’ll teach you so many things to do w’that tongue,” he comments slyly after you hesitantly try to use your tongue in the same way as he was. Joel’s lips drag down your chin to your neck and start to suck on various spots, a little soft at first to test you but more hurried and rough the longer he goes. His body grinds against yours a bit and you lay back, feeling breathless. Your body burns and burns as he marks you and moves against you, your thighs aching all the way to the apex.

You squirm a little bit, a foreign discomfort completely taking over, and Joel pulls back to look down at you. He strokes the side of your head from your forehead all the way back, looking at you with warmer eyes.

“Gonna be okay, I’ll show ya how good you can feel…” he murmurs as his fingers start to trace along your bottom lip. “Now I’m gonna peek at a little more of ya,” he announces before sliding down your tense body, straddling your legs before hooking his fingers in your sweatpants. They’re down and shoved off your legs before you can even process it, leaving you in just a pair of plain white panties. His eyes roam up every inch of your body, white heat flickering low in your belly at the way Joel looks at you.

“Now that’s a sight…” He smirks, sliding his hands up your thighs to rest on your hips, treating each spot he touches with a new reverence. You’ve started to tremble a little, the chilly air biting at you along with this vulnerable feeling, being so exposed.

“Y-you like the way I look?” you ask tentatively, having to clear your throat from lack of use. Your sudden urge for validation from him strikes you hard and you silently curse yourself.

Joel smiles at the unexpected question from you and gives you a singular nod. “‘Course I do. You’re real beautiful, sweetheart. ‘Specially like this.” His eyes land between your legs as he says the last words, licking his lips out of habit. He slinks up next to you, laying close to you and wrapping an arm around you, enveloping you in everything Joel.

“Now don’t ya feel safe here like this? Got me right here holdin’ you, gonna make it all okay.”

You just nod, swallowing the anxious lump in your throat. “I’m… just scared…” you admit, willing your cheeks to stop burning hot with all the emotions swirling around inside of you. Desire, embarrassment, discomfort, doubt - all mixing up to create a disastrous thundering of your heart inside of your chest.

“Baby, nothin’ to be scared of…” Joel coos, kissing your shoulder and peppering them across the top of your chest as he leans over your body.

“You’re not gonna hurt me?” you wonder aloud. You’d heard stories through the grapevine of other girls - fearful stories of pain or blood that had nearly revolted you at the time, made you almost glad there were no men paying that type of attention to you just yet. You’d always hoped they were just exaggerated tales, and you suppose you’re finally about to find out for yourself.

“I’ll be honest, sweet girl. This might hurt a little bit. Just ‘cause it’s your first time.” His lips suckle at the swell of your breast and you squirm a little, back arching into it as your breath hitches. You try to focus back on his words as his lips move an inch and do the same motion, a gentle sucking so close to your nipple now that you nearly puff your chest in his direction, hoping his mouth will land there next.

“But it’s such a special kind of love a man can show ya on your first time, darlin’. Get to have all of you…” he muses, his warped excitement becoming more palpable by the second, filling the room and stifling the air. “I’ll be gentle,” he adds on as he sees another spark of fear on your face.

“You’ll be gentle…” you repeat quietly, squeezing your eyes shut in some type of silent prayer. You feel the needle-like prickle of tears behind your eyes again, begging yourself to do anything but cry right now. You dig your nails deep into your palms, squeezing your fists tight to keep the pain there instead of burning deep in your stomach where it’s settled.

How can you be this close to all of it and still so unsure? Would you ever be sure? Or is this how everyone feels during their first time?

Joel finally pops one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking harder while his hand plays with your free nipple, rolling it between his fingers. You cry out at the unexpected sensation and wriggle your body, only to be held down a little harder by Joel.

“Mm-mm,” he hums, “No squirmin’ away.” His mouth quickly finds a home on your breasts again as you try to still your body, not wanting to make him upset. You’d seen how he behaved when he was upset with you, and it was not something you found yourself wanting to repeat.

”Pretty little nipples, sweetheart,” Joel says, talking at your chest while he flicks his tongue on the hard bud, unrelenting in his tasting of your sweet, supple skin. “Look at ‘em all day if I could. Half a mind to have you walk ‘round w’your tits out all the time.” He chuckles dryly before he sucks again, a little harder and you bite back the gasp that sticks in your throat at the jolt of pleasure it sends rocking through your body. “You’d do that f’me, wouldn’t you? Jus’ to get a little of ‘ol Joel’s attention?”

His words make you itchy, almost, in a strange, foreign way, one that’s hard to explain even to yourself. Like you want to crawl out of your skin, yet want to hear his words over and over, hear more of the things he sees in you, would want from you. You’d never found yourself to be someone with much to offer anyone, really, and hearing Joel already find so much to dote on is inflicting you with the most unexpected addiction you could have imagined.

You feel Joel’s fingers squeeze your chin suddenly, your eyes flicking open to glance down at him. “Answer me when I’m speakin’ to you,” Joel says softly despite the commanding tone of his words.

“I - yes,” you answer, tripping over the single word as you push it out in a hurry.

“Good girl,” he murmurs in response, leaning up to peck a kiss on the spot on your chin he’d been gripping. “Now you’re gonna let me make you feel good, ain’t ya? Let me treat you like a princess, show you what all the other men shoulda done but were too dumb. Chance with a pretty girl like you,” he rambles with a little scoff. “All meant f’me, anyways.” His conclusion seems to satisfy him as he grins, taking in your body with a hot gaze, lingering at the base of your stomach where his hands are itching to go. He doesn’t wait for your answer this time, sliding his hand right down, skillfully touching your soft skin the entire way.

Joel’s fingers start to trace the band of your panties, that satisfied grin still plastered on his face as he watches your reactions - your little sharp inhales and small twitches of your face as you feel him exploring your body. His eyes can’t help but drift down to watch your chest heave, pert tits on display and abused, hard nipples poking out into the air. He has a tempting thought to spend his entire night with his face buried right there, but he has more pressing matters to get to, he reminds himself as he feels his cock twitch inside his jeans.

He suddenly sighs as he pads the outside of your underwear, his face nearly pained looking in his ecstasy. “You’re soaked f’me, sugar,” Joel says, breathless. You feel yourself flush hot, your cheeks burning, thinking this has to be something to be embarrassed about, something that shows your lack of experience and your fear.

“‘S not a bad thing,” Joel tells you quickly, seeming to read your mind yet again. He doesn’t stop, his fingers teasing the fabric that starts to seep onto his digits. “Means you like all this, means your body is tellin’ us you’re ready.”

“Oh,” you say flatly, feeling dumb for not having much better to say. “I- uh, are you going to do it now, then?”

Joel chuckles, a genuine sound ringing through the quiet room, like he’s amused. “Christ,” he breathes out, swirling his fingers along the fabric, making your hips jump as he brushes your bundle of nerves. “You’re too cute, so perfect f’me. I get to teach you everythin’.”

Your brain can barely register his words, too focused on that little spasm that had just rocked its way through your body when Joel’s fingers touched along that sensitive spot. You blink, biting your lip as his fingers tease everywhere but there, silently urging him to brush there again.

Joel huffs another laugh watching your contorted, concentrated face. “Already fucked out, can’t think about nothin’ but these fingers, huh?” he teases you, amusement lacing his voice. His fingers make a tight circle over your clothed clit and you inhale sharply through your teeth, stifling a little noise from deep in your chest. “That what you wanted? Jus’ desperate f’me to touch your clit, sugar?”

You shake your head, completely overwhelmed by the absurdity of this feeling. “I don’t - I don’t…” you murmur, trying to convince yourself for what feels like the final time that you don’t want any of this. That you don’t feel an amoral, wicked pull towards this man that you shouldn’t - this man who has treated you like prey, is far too old to be interested in you, who by all accounts should be sending you fighting and running. A man you know likely has debased plans for you that you can barely even conjure up in your own mind, but plans that you are slowly realizing you want to be a part of, are curious about.

His care, his touch, his infatuation. They could all be yours, if you’d let him.

“Think you do… look at you, innocent little thing. Wrestlin’ w’yourself. Nothin’ wrong happening here, honey.”

You look to his dark eyes, seeking guidance, reassurance. “I-it’s not? I feel so…” You can’t put any of it into words for him, how intense the feeling is, how badly your body is craving something that you don’t know anything about yet. How dirty you feel for wanting it with him.

He shakes his head slowly to try and convince you. “Mm-mm. I feel it too, sugar. ‘S jus’ attraction, desire. Makes you burn all hot in here, don’t it?” he asks, cupping your aching, wet cunt through your panties. You gasp at the fullness of his hand against your throbbing folds while you nod fervently, taking in a deep breath to steady yourself as his fingers curl and then drag up your clothed slit. Your head arches back a little and you let out a tiny mewling sound through closed lips. Your mind muddles instantly, eyes rolling back as he repeats the motion, this time letting his fingers trail off to the edge of your panties, teasing the hem there.

“Thas’ it, let yourself enjoy it, princess. Let daddy take care of you.”

He’s barely controlling himself now, his breath heavy against your neck as he starts to move with more urgency, teeth scraping against your delicate skin. Your brow furrows quickly at the new reference to himself but his teeth sink into your flesh with a soft nip, pulling your mind back to the present.

“You’re gonna like this,” he murmurs quietly into your skin as his fingers fiddle one final time at your waistband before wiggling under, diving deep and sliding his fingers right into your wet slit.

“Oh… m-my, g-“ you whimper as quietly as you can when he slips them back and forth a few times, brushing your clit on each one, gathering up a lewd amount of slickness on his fingers. He spreads your wet folds delicately, feeling his way around almost respectfully, desperate breaths puffing out of his nose.

“Poor baby… soakin’ yourself this whole time… never even knowin’ how good you could feel, how much y’need a cock in here,” Joel says, sounding truly devastated for you. His brazen language makes your head spin and your cheeks flourish with warmth. And then it finally happens - his fingers swirl over your clit again.

You cry out loud this time, unable to hold it back when his circling tightens and he puts more pressure down on the aching little bud. The heat from between your legs starts to spread to your lower belly, pulling taut and warm as it settles there.

“Oh…” you murmur, back arching when Joel adds a second finger to the motion. Your legs shake a little as they lay flat on the bed, knees starting to bend of their own volition to help your hips start to wriggle closer to his touch. You stutter out another moan when his fingers press harder, the feeling shooting what feels like sparks through your entire bloodstream, straight to your head. You’re foggy, thoughts clouded over as everything else starts to fade out. Your mind pinpoints on Joel’s touch, practically seeing just his fingers in your mind's eye and the sensation that’s quickly boiling in your core, tightening with each movement he makes.

“Yeah, feelin’ so good ain’t you princess?” Joel coos with a grin, making his movements a little faster. “First one to touch this little clit, first one to see ya like this, writhin’ around like an animal in heat. God…” He marvels at your microexpressions, the contortions of your body, the way he can see you’re holding back, not wanting to seem too eager.

“Let go, sweetheart. Be loud f’me. Be loud f’daddy,” Joel urges you, eyes practically bugging out of his head as he sees you start to sheen a little with sweat, your body hot and tingling next to him. He smirks as he slips a finger down, eliciting a desperate cry from you when it leaves your clit to tease your entrance.

“D-daddy…” you start, meaning it as more of a question, wanting to understand what he’s getting at, but it trails off into a pathetic little cry when the tip of his index finger pushes into you unexpectedly.

Joel has died and gone to heaven, if his expression is any indication as he breathes out shakily, hardly in control of his actions at this point. “Thas’ right, thas’ right, princess. Call out f’me while I’m inside ya.”

“F-fuck,” you let slip out. “Y-you’re inside?” you ask him in slight disbelief that it’s really happening. You go completely breathless as he starts to play with your clit again, using his thumb to flick urgently there while he lets his finger settle inside of you.

Joel wriggles his finger deeper, burying his index finger almost to the hilt as he nods, turning your head with his free hand to make sure you’re looking at him.

“Naughty little thing, cursin’ cause daddy made you feel that good.” He smirks, letting you sweat it out for another moment before answering your question in a softer voice, almost sweet and caring. “‘M inside, sugar. Feels so fuckin’ good, too. Perfect, tight little hole all f’me.”

You’ve become a trembling mess, the fullness from Joel’s finger overwhelming you. The tingling warmth spreads to your belly from where he starts to move his finger, slowly at first.

“Yeah, there we go, takin’ me so well,” Joel mumbles as you relax around his finger, pressing in and out in sloppier motions. You gasp when his finger presses in to the hilt, then he repeats it over and over, filling you up. Your hips twitch and grind a little into him, into the feeling of his thumb flicking carefully at your clit.

“O-oh…” you whimper out, gushes of warmth coating Joel’s finger, running down onto his hand. He grunts an approving noise as he feels the way your body pours out slickness for him. This is pure heaven, he concludes to himself, nothing in the world could be sweeter than the feeling of taking this from you and getting so much in return.

“Christ, you are perfect,” he says near your ear. “This okay, princess?”

You just give him a nod, barely able to speak as your entire body starts to feel warmer and drawn tight, Joel’s finger on your clit moving at an achingly slow pace.

“Gonna feel somethin’ for just a second, mkay?” he says quietly, not bothering to clue you in any further before retreating his index finger and snuggling his middle finger right next to it, inserting them both into your weeping entrance.

Joel breathes a sigh, the air fanning across your bare chest. “Mmm, so tight, baby. Thas’ it, just focus right on me,” he says as your eyes open wide and look right into his. You feel the burn from his second finger, so thick and wide in comparison, your body adjusting to the new sensation.

“J-joel…” you whimper quietly when he starts to move them with more force, your brow furrowing with the strange mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Y’need to relax, c’mon,” he urges, using his free hand to rub gentle circles on your shoulder. “Promise we’ll get you feelin’ real good, sweetheart. We gotta get you all stretched out to fit all ‘f me.” He rubs a soothing hand on your shoulder with his free one, shushing you when he sees the look of worry on your face.

“Jus’ enjoy it.”

His words echo in your mind as you start to fully embrace all the sensations. You feel a burning heat in your core start to radiate, pulling tight, so tight it’s nearly maddening before your hips shift the tiniest bit and find your release, the tightness completely snapping from one moment to the next.

“Oh my god… oh my god… oh…” you cry out, feeling yourself starting to shake, your entire body ravaged by oncoming waves and waves of pleasure.

“Look at me when you come, princess,” Joel says sternly as he grasps your face, turning your head in his direction. You slowly creep your eyes open and see his dark pools full of a sense of smugness and wonder. “God, fuck, that’s good, keep comin’ f’me,” he breathes out, feeling your slick pouring out onto his hand as you come.

You’ve never felt so amazing in your entire life, the only thought you can think is more more more as you moan loudly, any shame in doing so long gone when you feel this incredible. White heat envelops you, sending your vision speckled and your back arching off the bed completely, your hips spasming down to where Joel sloppily yet expertly fucks you with his fingers. You grip at the sheets with one hand, Joel’s shirt with the other, squeezing them both to try to hang on to reality.

“Good girl, good little girl… god you’re pretty when you come,” Joel says, talking you through it. His fingers are merciless until the last second, when your hips drop to the bed with a sudden thud, your entire body limp, only your hips jumping with a need to get away from the overstimulation.

“Oh, that was a big one, now, wasn’t it?” Joel asks softly, pulling his hand from between your legs and resting it on your thigh, his other still soothing on your cheek. Your eyes flutter and roll back as you catch your breath, trying to wrap your mind around what just happened.

“Uh-huh…” you murmur dazedly, your hand still resting on Joel’s chest after letting go of his shirt.

Joel peppers your face with soft, loving kisses, finally reaching your lips and kissing you deeper. You’re lost, somewhere in another dimension completely, kissing him back without any knowledge of doing so. The warmth of his lips starts to bring you back and you flutter your eyes open as he pulls back.

“Y’did real good. How’d that feel, huh, sugar?” Joel inquires, looking down at you expectantly.

“S-so… good… I can’t explain…”

“Mhm, I know what ya mean,” he replies sweetly, “Hard to explain, jus’ all that pleasure. Loved makin’ you feel that good, honey.” Joel leans in to kiss your cheek, using his hand to tilt you towards him and plants another kiss on your lips. You moan quietly, body overstimulated and exhausted, the now empty space between your legs aching and tingling for him.

You roll your head back onto the pillow, unable to respond. Joel places a hand over the one of yours that rests on his chest and rubs his thumb over the back.

“Gonna make you feel like that all the time,” he says with an oddly devoted, sweet tone, leaning down and surprising you with another kiss. Your eyes open again and he’s looking at you with that look again. “So much more we could do,” he adds, shifting his smile into something more hungry again.

“Wh-“ you start to ask, and Joel’s finger touches your lip gently. You can taste the remnants of yourself on it - such a strange, foreign flavor that makes you smack your lips a little. Joel’s amusement at your response shows quickly on his face as he traces his finger along your lips with a soft smile.

He starts to sit up and lean back on the bed, sending your hand dropping from his chest, a quick bounce on the mattress before it stills. His hands reach to his waist, fingers working at his belt. You stare, eyes transfixed on his every move as your heart starts to beat more quickly, anxiety flooding your system as you toil over what comes next.

“Ain’t done with you yet, sweet girl,” he mumbles, belt now hanging loose and open while he palms himself outside of his jeans. Your mind races at the prospect of seeing what you saw from afar this morning just this much closer. Joel reads your deer in the headlights expression and smirks, head cocked as he looks down at you, sitting next to you on the bed, knees pushed into the mattress.

You swallow hard, the apparent lump sliding down your throat and it makes your cheeks burn how openly nervous you are. Joel strokes a hand gently down the side of your head before pushing off the mattress and standing next to the edge of the bed.

“Time f’you to see a real man, in all his glory,” Joel says, teasingly, like he knows something you don’t. And he does, you suppose, know a lot of things that you don’t in this regard.

He starts to peel off his jeans, letting them pool by his ankles, belt buckle clanging all the way down before he steps out of them. He has on a pair of dark boxer briefs, hard to tell if they’re black or navy in the fading evening light of his bedroom. All you can focus on is the apparent bulge there, knowing what’s underneath, that shockingly large part of him he’d stroked earlier because of you.

He wastes little time pulling his shirt over his head, revealing his hulking, muscular form, soft yet hard, toned and strong but fleshy and dusted with salt and pepper curls of hair, leading right down to the waistband of his briefs.

Your eyes flick from between his thighs to his face, searching his eyes for any kind of assurance, any kind of assistance in how to act, what to do next. He just remains as cocky as ever, hand grazing the outside of the tented fabric as he stares down at you with hooded eyes.

“You wanna see it, babygirl? Wanna touch daddy’s cock?” He rubs himself a little faster, a tiny growl suppressed in his chest while he awaits your answer. “Know you do, know you’re such a curious girl.”

You unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth and nod, swallowing hard again. “Y-yes, I want to see,” you finally say, meek and shaky, shrinking in on yourself like you’re preparing for a bomb to go off, afraid of what you’re about to witness. In what feels like a flash, his briefs are down on the ground, Joel’s cock springing free almost violently as it slaps against him. You stare for a moment, taking in the way it juts out from his body - rock hard, shiny pink head dripping and veins running along the length of him. You feel speechless, unsure if there’s something you’re supposed to say when a man shows you his penis.

“C’mon a little closer, princess, you can look, s’okay,” Joel says, calm and quiet. “Crawl over here.”

You hesitate a moment and push yourself up on the bed to get on your hands and knees. While it’s not a far distance, just a few paces and you’re to the side of the bed where Joel stands, he revels in the sight of you doing it, his lip caught between his teeth as he gently plays with himself.

“Pretty girl,” Joel murmurs when you reach him, putting his hand along the back of your head and stroking once before holding on to keep you in a position to stare directly at his cock. It’s threateningly large right in your face like this, and you feel yourself shudder a bit as you watch Joel’s free hand gently touching all along the length.

“Now, I want y’to touch it, can you do that, sweetheart?”

You hand hovers, your teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek as you peer at his member with a lack of confidence.

“C’mon now,” Joel says, grabbing your wrist, moving your stalled, floating hand to his cock, settling your fingers on the head. Your stomach turns with the strangeness of all of this - the way you had given in to him and now felt like it was impossible to go back. Joel is gently nudging your hand, trying to urge you to move, and it brings you back to the present moment where you blink hard and focus on him again.

“Sh-should I do this…?” you ask quietly, letting your fingers graze the head in a swirling motion, unintentionally picking up the beads of precum leaking out and you nearly pull back. Joel chuckles at your brief reaction to the liquid, then nods.

“That’s good, real nice,” he says softly. “Touch it all over now, no need to be shy with me, okay?”

You press your lips together, unable to even look him in the eye due to your strange combination of being flustered and mortified. You can only find yourself staying focused on what you’re doing with your hands, making sure it’s right for him.

“What did I say about answerin’ me when I’m speaking to you?” Joel says a moment later, tugging on your hair to lift your gaze up to his. You wince, wishing he’d be a little more gentle with your scalp, and he sees your expression and only tightens his grip.

“I-I’m s-sorry. Um…” you take a deep breath, trying to calm your quaking hands. “Like this?” you ask him, using your fingertips to glide down the length of his cock, all the way to the base where a patch of thick curls sits. That seems to please him, a kinder smile on his face now when he nods in approval.

“Lean forward and spit right on there f’me,” he says, looking down at you and gesturing between his thighs. “Need to get it nice and wet f’daddy to feel good, okay?”

Your mouth hangs open in a stunted silence, your body unable to move without his assistance right now as he drags your hand along his dry cock. He grunts in exasperation before tugging back on your haIr again, forcing your face into a contorted wince.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, you know that, right? Y’jus’ need a firm hand, baby, helpin’ you figure all this stuff out. So why don’t ya go on ahead and do as I say, sweetheart, hm? It’d make me real happy.” His words are silken, laced with his country accent and that hidden malice he carries within him, every step, every word showing it to you, drawing you in further.

You bow your head a little as he loosens his grip, letting you decide for yourself now. “I-I’m sorry, you’re right, I- uh, d-do need your help,” you whine obediently, feeling your scalp starting to throb a tiny bit.

Joel scratches at your head for a moment, watching you lean down closer to his cock. “Good girl, there ya go.” You can hear him smirking as you tentatively spit on his cock, watching the saliva settled on the top before dripping around the side. “Don’t be afraid, want ya to drool on it, baby, don’t worry ‘bout gettin’ messy.” He nudges your head forward and you breathe out a shaky breath before trying to desperately gather up any amount of saliva your drying mouth will offer you. You open your mouth, letting your tongue hang down before forcing yourself to spit watching more dribble onto the center of his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel grits through his teeth, feeling the sudden warm wetness of your saliva on him. “Thas’ it - f-fuck, now wrap your hand ‘round it,” he commands urgently, immediately negating any need for the words by wrapping his own hand more firmly around yours, sending your fingers curling around his length.

“Look at that, sugar, barely even fit that little hand around me,” he says with an arrogant grin, starting to move your hand in strokes, gathering up all the slickness you’d just provided. The sound starts to reverberate through the room, that same noise you’d heard outside his door earlier.

You’re starting to feel like merely a passenger as he jerks on himself quicker using your hand, sitting in front of him almost completely naked, the real version of what he was picturing this morning as he pleasured himself. Joel smiles even more at the fantasy coming to life right before his eyes, your little panties the only thing he has left to remove before he’s seen all of you. And by god, does he want to see all of you. See what he has no doubt looks just as perfect as it felt around his fingers while he buried them inside of you.

“Take ‘em off,” Joel says as the thought pops into his head, staring down between your legs, his eyes practically glimmering.

“D-do I have to…?” you stammer out, suddenly wishing you could put back on every piece of clothing that’s now scattered between here and the kitchen downstairs.

“Now c’mon darlin’,” Joel snips, frowning a little. His hand continues to jerk yours along a little more aggressively as his breathing picks up. “Jus’ want to see your pretty body, baby girl, thas’ all. It’ll help me feel extra good right here,” he says, squeezing your hand as it moves along his cock.

You reach down and start pulling on the waistband of your panties, a little awkwardly as Joel holds your other hand hostage. You shimmy them down and sit closer to the edge of the bed, where Joel suddenly wraps his arm around your back and pulls you to the edge, leaving your legs dangling off on either side of his knees.

Joel’s hand grips at the side of your face, cupping your cheek less than delicately as he pants out, your hand moving quicker and quicker along his cock. You feel a rush of heat in your body similar to when Joel had been touching you earlier. That arousal cropping up low and deep in your belly, that feeling you want to ignore when it comes to Joel. But looking at him - sheening with sweat, his enticingly soft yet muscular belly right in your face, his face turning a shade more red with effort as he puffs out his quick breaths has you nearly squirming where you sit. It’s intimate, it’s sexual, you realize, something he’s giving to you just as much as you are him.

“Fuck,” he spits out, tugging your hand off his cock and pushing you down with a swift shove to your chest. You fall back to the bed, nearly emotionally wounded when you notice his eyes still raking all over your body.

“Lemme jus’ look at ya, fuck, put your legs up, show me that pretty cunt,” he demands, his hand flying back to his cock to continue stroking it as you prop your legs up on the bed, giving him the view he’s asking for. He groans loudly, deep and guttural as his eyes are glued to your glistening sex, a new slickness dripping out from the way he’s looking at you. You’ve never felt sexy before, desired, and even though the circumstances are never what you’d envisioned, you’re completely enamored with the feeling of it. Already craving more of it.

“Can’t wait to sink my cock into that tight little pussy,” he murmurs to himself, but you feel your entire body tensing at his words, taken by surprise that it might be happening right now.

Joel’s mouth curls in that devious but handsome way to the side as he sees your change in demeanor. “Shh, shh, not yet, sweetheart. Wanna keep you pure jus’ a little bit longer f’me,” he breathes out with a wink in your direction.

Less controlled smacks of his fist against his skin fill the air of the room. You’re practically holding your breath, watching everything unfold as his cock throbs and twitches in his hold. He just watches your innocent, fascinated expressions move over your face and continues smirking down at you.

“One thing at a time for my princess. Take you piece by piece, won’t I?” He seems so pleased to be the decider here, to say what you get, and don’t get. How he controls how he uses your body. It makes his cock throb achingly in his hand, just the thought of it alone. His to use. His to show all the pleasure. His to keep.

He watches your lips, waiting for them to move, to answer his question. “Y-yes…” you whisper meekly. Joel groans at your compliance and his eyes flutter for a moment. He’s so close now. You understand that same feeling that had come over you for the first time not very long ago.

“Yeah, princess, daddy’s gonna come all over you now. Tell me, say it. Say you want daddy to come all over you.” He breathes heavily, little groaning whimpers as he goes harder, his cock angry and red from the way he’s tugging on it. “Say it,” Joel booms out, and you start at the intensity of his voice, curling in on yourself for a moment.

“I- I want daddy to come o-on me… a-all over me,” you say, hoping it’s loud enough for him to hear, that you won’t have to repeat it again. The name slides awkwardly off your tongue, wishing to understand it, make sense of why it made your core tingle for just a moment when you said the words.

“God, bet you do, yes, fuck, daddy’s gonna come now, paint that perfect body with it,” Joel punches out before his hips stutter forward, his hand giving a few jerks as he starts to come hard, the white stickiness splattering onto you - your stomach, your breasts, even where your legs lay open for him to look at as his own personal little show. He heaves as the final bits spill out and he leans his head back, sighing.

“God damn, so good, baby girl. You did amazing,” he coos, climbing onto the bed next to you. He sits while you lay motionless, nearly stunned from what you’d witnessed, the constant reminder of it in the form of his warm liquid dripping along your body.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says more softly, picking up your discarded panties and carefully swiping his mess off of you with them, curling his body close to yours.

“That’s better,” he announces, holding the white cotton up to inspect the way his cum stains them now with a wry smirk. He sets them aside on his nightstand before his hands slip underneath your back and your legs to cradle you, pulling you into his lap. He sits back on the bed, nestling the both of you against the headboard as he settles you across his thighs. “This okay?” he asks, stroking your back.

“Mhm.” You nod quietly and thread an arm around his torso, intertwined under where his arm reaches up to meet you. The movement comes naturally, more than you’d care to admit, wanting to feel loved and cared for right now. You hate the tears that sting your eyes again, like you’re not strong enough to handle something like this, something that adults do.

“S-sorry,” you say, swiping your eyes quickly and trying to avoid any tears falling.

“Shh, don’t be sorry. Y’did such a good job, y’know that? Normal to get emotional if it’s your first time.”

You chew on your lip and then look up at Joel, his features already strangely comforting and familiar. The speckled, tan skin that you want to touch more of, his dark lashes that fall over his eyes when he looks down at you like this.

“B-but it wasn’t… my first time…”

“Sure it was. First time doin’ somethin’ like that. It’s a lot for a sweet girl like you. But you’ll feel good again, just like tonight, I promise ya that.”

You nod, slightly more encouraged by Joel’s words as you relax a little more into his embrace. “That… release… it’s an orgasm, right?” You nearly choke on the words, shame flooding you for even having to ask.

Joel blows out a teasing breath through his nostrils. “God damn, nobody out there teachin’ you anythin’, were they?” He ruffles the back of your head playfully. “Yes, darlin’ that was an orgasm, what both of us experienced.”

You crack a small smile at his teasing and brush your fingers along where they’re resting along his back. “People acted like it was… bad to teach about. My parents, people that looked after me, all of them.” You pause, feeling your face warm with the embarrassment of sharing so much “S-sorry I’m so clueless…”

“No, honey, not clueless. You’re learnin’, and I wanna be the one to teach you everythin’. It…” he inhales deeply, and you see that hunger in his eyes when you glance his way. “It excites me.”

“It does?”

“It’s so sexy, takin’ care of you and lettin’ you learn w’me. You like bein’ sexy, don’t you?” Joel teases, bringing a hand to your chin, tilting it just slightly. Your lips look the most inviting they have as they curve into the most delicate smile, one finally full of lust and confidence.

“I do…” you murmur in response, averting your eyes as you flush yet again. Your body feels warm, bare and pressed against Joel’s naked flesh, his words instantly having an effect on you.

“An’ you should,” Joel says, leaning forward to press his lips to your neck, smattering kisses down the length of it. “Already got me wrapped around your little finger.”

His lips tickle you as his facial hair brushes along you in his fast movements, and you nearly giggle, holding back at the last moment, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing your laugh just yet. You sigh contentedly and lean back into him, fighting a sudden yawn.

“You all tired out?” Joel asks quietly, lips pressed close to your ear. You shiver at the vibrations of his rich timbre and inadvertently snuggle a little closer as goosebumps creep along your skin. Joel rubs your back in response, pulling you in tighter.

You nod, mumbling out a yes and Joel responds by gently rolling you over onto the bed, laying your head on the pillow. He’s curled up to you in an instant, arm thrown over your chest all the way to your arm on the other side, letting his fingers rub there.

“You get some rest, it’s been a big day, huh?”

“It has…” you mumble in reply, hesitantly resting your hand on his arm that covers your chest. It starts to feel like some semblance of normal, cuddling with Joel. You’d never experienced something like this, this closeness.

“G’night,” he mumbles into your skin, kissing it one more time before you notice him going more slack, starting to settle into that dazed, half sleepy state. You look over at him, blinking slowly with a deep tiredness, just watching his face in this calm, non-threatening state. He looks handsome like this, a little vulnerable and sweet, someone you could pretend is holding you right now just so you feel taken care of and cared for. You wish you could read him, trace the weathered lines on his face and find out just who he really is, which version of the many different Joel’s he’s shown you he truly is.

You fall asleep trying to figure it out.

Your eyes flutter open, finding the room still dark. You imagine it has only been a few hours since you fell asleep, but you woke with your stomach aching, hunger tearing through you. You realize the only thing you’ve eaten is the bread and cheese Joel fed you, and it makes your stomach growl again.

Joel has mostly rolled off of you, just an errant hand laid across your upper arm as he sleeps, body sprawled out on the bed. You lay as still as can be for a few moments, checking just how deep he’s sleeping before you slip out of bed, on the prowl for a midnight snack. You don’t think Joel would mind, would he? He’d fed you earlier, promised that part of what he’d do to help you here is to share his provisions with you, keep you full. You spot a knit blanket on the back of a wooden chair in the corner of the bedroom and throw it around your shoulders, shivering as you snuggle your naked body underneath it and relish in the warmth.

It’s dark in the kitchen, but you don’t dare flick on the light, happy to scavenge by way of the small glow from the open refrigerator. You end up tearing off some more of the bread, careful to not take too much from Joel’s provisions. Your eyes drift around the room as you chew happily, taking it in now that you’re here alone, gaze free to roam without any questions from Joel. You stop when you land on your backpack, slumped near the door, and your boots, tucked right where you’d left them when you’d arrived. How was that only yesterday? It feels like an entire lifetime has passed since then. Like you’re a different person than when you’d first entered the threshold of that door, shaking and terrified, barely hanging on. Now… you still weren’t sure where you landed, but you were certainly changed.

Your threadbare coat hangs where Joel must have decided to leave it when you’d taken your shower. All of your things calling out to you, screaming red, like a test that he’d left for you. To test your loyalty, to see your obedience. Everything you’d need to disappear from this cabin, all in one little space. Your heart starts to race, your mouth dry as the bread seems to go sour on your tongue.

You could leave right now, if you wanted. Take your chances. Let fate decide if you’d starve on your own or lead you to a new community - those people in Jackson - who might take care of you. You could learn. You were capable of survival, you knew you were. You could learn to hunt and fish and start fires on your own, to live off the land and not be scared of the hidden horrors of the world. Yes, you could leave right now, escape the uncertainty of Joel’s moods and promises, and learn.

You bite your lip anxiously, eyes in a trance as you stare at your backpack, with it holding the memories of those two weeks on your own where you fought and scraped by and nearly froze to death. You blink and turn your head back towards the fridge. Maybe you aren’t cut out for life on the road. Maybe you’re too soft for it. And maybe some more of that sheep’s cheese doesn’t sound so bad right now.

You open the fridge back up, peering inside to look for that little wrapped package you’d seen Joel pull from earlier. You nearly jump out of your skin when Joel’s voice cuts into the silent room - you’d been too absorbed in your own thoughts to even hear the creak of the old floorboards announcing his movements upstairs.

“The hell’re you doin?” his voice booms out in that controlled, stern tone that makes you want to listen. You whip your head around from where you’re crouched at the fridge, rummaging through it and see Joel stepping off the bottom of the staircase and into the main room. He hasn’t bothered to put anything on, like he was in a rush to see if you were down here, if you’d snuck off in the night. His naked body moves powerfully, muscles on display, and yet all you can focus on is what’s between his legs - his soft cock swinging almost tauntingly as he approaches you with such an angry aura.

“I - I was hungry… starving. I thought I’d -“ you start, teeth clicking together in a fearful grimace as he cuts you off.

“Yeah? Sure you’re not tryna run off again? Ransack my fridge and leave?” He’s already questioning you heatedly, reaching where you stand and slamming the fridge shut behind you and pressing you close to the door.

You scramble in your mind to find the words to make him understand, shrinking in, afraid of what he’s capable of doing to you. “Wh - no, no I was… look at me, I have nothing on, I wouldn’t be running out like this, right?” You gesture down to your body, only draped in the small knit blanket.

“Poor excuse, darlin’,” he sneers, looking down at you. The moonlight spilling in through the kitchen window casts menacing shadows across his rugged face. He narrows his eyes as he waits for you to further dig yourself out of this hole.

“I - I swear it, I haven’t eaten much, remember? J-just that bread and cheese, and I woke up hungry.” You plead and see him soften just enough to want to let up a little bit, but his face hardens again at the last second. You realize he’s scared, the hint of it behind his wild eyes showing for just a moment. He’d really run down here thinking he’d find you gone for good and that had scared him, an emotion you wouldn’t have expected from Joel. He has weaknesses and fears after all.

He steps a little closer and you can feel his cock, now half hard pressing between your legs. You fight the urge to wince, afraid he’s about to press it further.

“Hard to believe w’the way you were runnin’ off earlier. Not desperate to get away from me anymore now that I fucked that little pussy so good w’my fingers? Didn’t jus’ get what you want from me and wanna split?” You can tell he doesn’t even fully believe what he’s saying, he just wants to taunt you, remind you that he’s more powerful, that he holds all of the cards. He grips your cheeks, squishing them together and holding your head steady, inspecting you for another moment, as if he can get the truth out of you just by reading your face. His head leans forward and he holds you in place as he sucks on your neck, pulling your skin between his lips harder and harder. He lets go and keeps himself nuzzled tight to your neck as he speaks.

“Y’don’t do anythin’ like this again without wakin’ me up.” He squeezes your cheeks a little harder before releasing it, keeping his face buried against your neck. “‘S my job to take care of you, remember? Don’t wanna catch you like this again, yeah?”

“Y-yes,” you stutter, breathing a sigh of relief. One that’s short lived when Joel pulls another patch of skin into his mouth, using his teeth this time - you feel the slight nibble as he scrapes his teeth on your soft skin and you whimper quietly when it starts to hurt.

“J-joel…” you whine, shifting uncomfortably, the heat of his body so close making you squirm and break out in a sweat.

“No,” he cuts you off, wrapping a hand around your arm and another around your waist, holding you in place. “If you’re here,” he says, stopping to flick his tongue along his recent mark, “You’re gonna refer to me as a few special names goin’ forward, okay? Teach you a little respect towards me.”

“I- I respect you,” you blurt out desperately, your eyes wide and searching the room for anything that might help you get out of this. Joel’s hold is absolute, as you’ve learned several times now. You’re suddenly unsure once again, his frightening behavior reminding you just who you’re living with now. You don’t dare to call him a monster, even in your thoughts, because that would be admitting what you’ve been desperately avoiding. You’re attracted to a monster, inexplicably fixated by him, lured in with his sweet offerings and chance at a new life. Worst of all, you’ve already given yourself over to him, let him drag you further into his clutches.

“You’ve been s-so kind and helpful, you fed me, everything…” you add on in a soft lilt, hoping he takes mercy on you.

He stays silent for a moment, his lips hovering above your skin, only his hot breath fanning across it. “Then show it,” he says in a deep rumble. “You’re gonna call me daddy, sweetheart. ‘Cause I’m here to take care of you. And a good girl always listens to her daddy, doesn’t she?”

He sucks again. Harder this time, the burn and sting shooting out from where he abuses your delicate skin.

“She does…” you choke out.

“That’s right. I’m gonna be your everything, sweetheart. Your daddy, your sir, your master. And when you address me, you’ll address me as such, yeah? Show that you’re mine… show me respect.”

“M-mhm…” you whimper, swallowing with your lips pressed tightly together, the pain of him sucking on your neck after each little speech becoming more and more unbearable. It hurts, but something about the way he’s speaking, the concept of his domination over you, the way you can tell it comes from some completely twisted place of care, sends a warm skittering down your spine. Maybe you’re just as sick as he is if any part of you enjoys this, even the small, deeply hidden bit that seems to be growing with each encounter you have with Joel.

“And when I’m done w’you here tonight,” he murmurs, bringing up a hand to trace his fingers gently along your quickly bruising skin, “You won’t be able to see yourself in the mirror without knowin’ who you belong to. Show everyone who dares lay eyes on my girl that I’ve got you, that I’m the one keepin’ you safe and fed and fucked.”

“Yes… you are…” you whimper out complicitly into a soft cry when he bites your neck again, his hot mouth attaching like his life depends on it.

“So you’re gonna be a good girl, yeah? Behave and listen to daddy’s rules?” He speaks breathlessly, his cock fully hard as he feels the power coursing through his veins, the evidence of it pressing firmly against your thighs. He feels you nod against where he rests his lips, but it’s not enough.

“Say it, princess. Say ‘I’m a good girl, and I’ll behave and listen to daddy’s rules.’”

You gasp as his teeth sink into your flesh, as hard as they’ve gone yet, feeling nearly like they may have drawn blood. “I- I-“ you breathe out, clutching at his arm, digging your nails in. It only spurs him on, his lips dragging back just to suck the spot relentlessly. It brings tears to your eyes immediately, your mind only focused on the pain now.

“Say. It.” Joel’s voice cuts through and your eyes flash open after a few tears roll down your cheeks.

“I’m a good girl…” you whimper, voice cutting out into another cry as he assaults another spot on your neck.

“And?”

“I’m a good girl a-and I’ll behave and l-listen to daddy’s rules…” Your breath whooshes out as he stops, relief flooding your body when he places a light kiss on one of the sore, bruised spots. A few tears roll down your cheeks, spilling over from the plethora of them along your lower lids.

“Mmm, good girl,” he says more gently, pulling back to look over your face. He frowns, and it nearly startles you to see him have a look that isn’t that one of sick satisfaction that he’s worn so often.

“When you’re daddy’s girl, you’re gonna be so well taken care of, I promise ya. I know you’re scared, and it ain’t easy when I’m bein’ so firm w’you. Just want you to understand…” he pauses, dragging a finger along your cheek, swiping a tear and glancing down at it glistening on his finger. His body is still close, pressed right against yours.

“That I’m doin’ it for your own good. So you know I mean it all. I won’t hurt ya unless you disobey me, yeah? If you’re not a good girl, you’re gonna have some punishments. Do you understand?”

You nod hesitantly, your brows furrowed and trying to process all of the information he’s throwing at you.

“Y’need some sleep, look at you,” he says with a shake of his head, taking in your disheveled state, swaying where you stand as a few more tears roll down your cheeks. He feels a pang spearing his heart at your weary, dejected stance, body trembling openly at his proximity. He knows he did this to you, made you this broken little bird he could grasp in his hands and crush with his words alone, but he did it for your own good. He tells himself this sentence for what feels like the millionth time, absolving his guilt in a single second. You need him, deserve the unrelenting care he’ll pour out once you fully give yourself over to him. Anytime now… with your cracks showing more and more, your desperation to please him not as well hidden as you might think.

“You’ll feel better in the mornin’, hm?” Joel says when you don’t answer him.

You shrug slightly, keeping your shoulders rolled up, feeling defensive as Joel rests his fingers on your arm more gently now. “We’ll talk more then,” he says decidedly, making the decision for the both of you as he sidles up next to you and puts an arm around you, his hand resting on the small of your back.

You begin to walk nearly catatonically back towards the stairs with Joel’s guidance. His hands slide to your hips and squeeze as you move up the stairs in a daze, exhaustion overtaking you. You swear you’re tired down to your very cells, every piece of your being sapped and scraped thin right now.

“Thank you,” you murmur in a whisper when Joel helps you shrug the blanket off of your shoulders, laying it tidily back on the chair where you’d found it.

“You’re welcome,” he responds, kissing the top of your head. You’re moved to the bed, body soft and yielding for him to place you where he wishes, finding you a place wrapped right in his arms just as you were earlier.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he whispers, lips flitting against your hair and cheek when he senses your tension. “Jus’ be good, don’t do that again, okay? Don’t wanna have to chain you to the bed while we sleep, would we?”

Your mouth sags open, chest pulling tight at his threat, the way it had rolled off his tongue like it was nothing, no humor or jesting behind it. When he’d said the word punishment he’d meant it in the most serious sense. Things like chaining you up, biting your neck until it was bruised, bleeding, and throbbing, and the likely long list of things he had lined up that you couldn’t even envision if you tried.

“N-no, you’ll never need to do that, I w-won’t…” you reply after composing yourself for a brief moment.

“Never say never,” Joel whispers with a conceited smirk. “You may find yourself askin’ me to do it someday, princess. Beggin’ me…”

You let out a breathy scoff of a laugh, mostly out of discomfort, but Joel hardly notices, busy tucking you into the crook of his neck as he puts an arm behind your head.

“You’ll see someday, babygirl, you’ll see… now let’s get some sleep.”

You stare into the dark of the room, head rising and falling with the movements of Joel’s chest while he falls back asleep. You hate that he smells good right now, that the hair of his chest feels so gorgeous and manly under your fingertips. You hate that you feel comfortable right now, safe, despite everything he’s done to you. You hate everything about all of it, but you don’t hate… him. It makes you sick, your stomach turning as you fight the urge to cry yet again.

You start to think back to your backpack and boots, waiting for you by the door. Their enticing siren call is louder than ever, beckoning you away from here.

You could learn to survive out there. You know you could.

You peek up at Joel’s face again, willing yourself to read him, the same thoughts swirling through your head from earlier tonight. You slowly reach your hand up and touch the lines on his face with your fingertips - around his eyes, his forehead, his cheeks. Ever so gently you move along his face, and Joel’s mouth twitches as he sleeps, morphing into a soft smile.

There he is. That is Joel. That has to be him. That soft smile, a sweet man who wants to care about you. That wants a companion, someone to spend his life with, not someone to hurt.

You sigh and close your eyes, dropping your hand and shifting your body to mold even closer to his, finding comfort in his large, imposing form rather than fear right now.

Yes, you think as your eyes flutter and you drift off, you could learn. Maybe it would just be an entirely different set of lessons.

#every time i post this fic i wanna throw up a little i get so nervous #don't let her flop!!!!#fic: smother #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #dark!joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #x reader

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perlelune · 10 months ago

Text

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | vi.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

An eternity seems to fly by as you wait for Coriolanus to do what you’re too terrified to do on your own. During the agonizing minutes, you picture William’s face. The confusion, the hurt. Tears skip down your cheeks as you curl over the blankets, knees against your chest.

Hopefully your reckless actions haven’t ruined what you two have. Maybe one day, you’ll even jest about it, the pre-wedding jitters that caused you to hide for a week.

It’s the meager hope you cling onto as the soft tap on the door draws you from your thoughts.

Coriolanus nudges the door open, a silver tray between his hands. A matching porcelain kettle and cup sit on the tray.

The mattress sinks as he sits on the edge of the bed, placing the steaming teapot at your bedside. Your gaze drags over the colorful roses painted on the porcelain set.

Tearful eyes rising to his face, you ask “H-How did it go?”

His long fingers drape over your cheek, wiping your tears as he smiles down at you. “Everything’s alright.” His deep soothing voice brings you comfort as it rolls over you. “Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, just like I promised you.” He collects the tea cup from the tray. The steam rising from it caresses your face.

“It’s my own personal blend of chamomile, peppermint and lavender, for your nerves.”

“I don’t need that.”

Concern sways in Coryo’s blue orbs, his thumb collecting another stray tear.

“You had an emotional day. It’ll help you sleep, trust me.”

You don’t reply, laying the side of your face against the pillow. Do you even deserve to sleep soundly after causing the people in your life so much unnecessary distress?

Maybe this is what you deserve, unending nights wrestling with your own mind while you drown in a river of your own tears. After all, if you hadn’t overindulged in alcohol that night, you wouldn’t be here. You still remember the way Coryo described it. Were you truly that desperate to bury Sejanus’ memory, to forget?

Coriolanus strokes the crown of your head.

“I just want you to get one good night of rest. You need it. Do you really want to spend the entire night torturing yourself when you’ve done nothing wrong?”

For a while, silence hangs between the two of you, Coriolanus letting you weep as he patiently cups your face. The aromatic scents of the herbs he mixed in the tea tickle your nose. You have to admit, it smells heavenly. Like peace. The thing you’re craving most at this very moment. For your thoughts and emotions to fall silent, allowing you to drift into a dreamless slumber.

So you surrender.

You sit up and graciously accept the cup Coryo offers you. As soon as the first few drops of the warm liquid coat your tongue, a heady, pleasant feeling swaddles your mind. It makes your body feel heavy, pleasant warm tingles swirling over your flesh.

“I’m starting to feel…”

Coryo’s beaming face starts blurring in your line of sight. Your grip on the cup weakens. He assists you in holding it, tipping the rim against your lips so you gulp another sip.

“Drink more. All of it.” You heed his instruction. The drowsiness grows tenfold. Your lids sag. Your body slumps over the pillows. You feel the soft brush of Coriolanus’s lips on your forehead. “Sweet dreams, princess.”

You awake from the best sleep you’ve had in literal weeks, a wide smile stretching over your lips as you unfurl from the sheets.

Unlike the nights before, you didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, screaming, crying or tossing and turning in bed.

You pivot to the sun rays spilling from between the curtains. You bask in the rejuvenating warmth kissing your skin. For a while, you stay like that, in awe that your mind isn’t crowded with anxious thoughts. Instead, you’re calm, rested, your head light as feathers. Even your grief is a faint noise when it’s usually so loud, its uproarious presence twisting your heart first thing most mornings.

It’s a newfound serenity you haven’t known in many weeks.

Even the bone-deep ache sitting in your limbs cannot cast a pale on the day. As you step in the rose-scented bath that’s been drawn for you, the soreness lingers. You grimace a little.

Perhaps you slept so heavily, your entire body is tense from it.

But as you lie back and let the hot water work its magic, the pain starts to fade. You let the strange sensation melt away, smiling once more.

You enjoy your bath. A bright, wonderful day awaits you.

When you’re done, you put on one of your favorite day dresses and hop down the stairs.

You find the entire Snow clan having breakfast in the dining room.

Coriolanus peeks from above the morning paper, his face brightening as his gaze flicks over you.

As you approach the empty chair near Grandma’am, Coriolanus rises and pulls it for you.

“Good morning,” you chime while plopping into your seat.

Tigris beams at you. “Good morning. I see someone’s feeling better.”

You tuck your hands into your lap as a maid places a scrumptious plate of eggs and meat in front of you. Your stomach growls at the sight and you pick up your fork, excited to dig into the food. You haven’t had a proper meal since you left Ma and Dad’s house.

Although, even that is a fuzzy memory, as you can’t remember the last time all of you sat down and had a proper breakfast as a family since Janus passed away.

It’s been too hard.

Shoving the fork into your mouth, you acquiesce, “Much better.” You hum as the flavors melt on your tongue.

The corner of Coriolanus’s lip quirk as he observes you. He returns to his seat and bends forward.

“I take it you’ve had a restful night, princess?”

“Yes, and I have you to thank for that. I don’t know what’s in that tea exactly but it works wonders.”

“I’ve had the opportunity to experiment with many natural remedies while working under Dr Gaul.” A glint dances in his blue eyes. “Some plants have the most…fascinating benefits.”

“I think I’ll take some with me home, if you don’t mind. Not just for me but Ma has struggled with sleep ever since…”

Your voice dwindles as an abrupt wave of sadness passes over you.

Tigris grabs your hand and squeezes it across the table.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Coriolanus nods in agreement. “She’s right. Take it one day at a time, princess.”

You ponder what he just said. You are feeling markedly better today, but you loathe thinking about your mom and dad alone.

You swallow a wide lungful.

“Maybe I should go back home tomorrow.”

Coriolanus’ gaze narrows, his smile vanishing momentarily before sliding back into place.

“This early? Shouldn’t you rest a bit more first? It’s clear that you need it.” He studies you for a long time. “You can’t be here for others when you aren’t healed yourself.” You shudder. Sometimes the blond seems to possess the uncanny ability to peer right inside your head. He reaches over the table to place his hand over yours. “Don’t rush it. Like I told you before, our home is your home.”

You don’t find it in yourself to argue, Coriolanus’ gentle yet firm grip on your hand and his smile chasing away your doubts.

“O-Okay.”

Satisfaction glimmers in his gaze at your response.

As Coryo advises, you remain with his family a little while longer. Everyday, he finds gentle words to convince you to extend your stay. It doesn’t take much for you to believe him as you trust him fully, his caring demeanor reminding you of your brother. If Coryo thinks you need a bit more time, he must be right. He only wants what’s best for you.

So a few days turn into a week, which eventually becomes two weeks. Surprisingly, you and the Snows’ daily routines twine with ease. In the morning, you have breakfast together in the dining room. Then you tend to the roses with Grandma’am while she hums songs to herself, an endearing habit you’ve grown quite fond of.

And you usually spend the rest of the day with Tigris, chatting or playing board games, or on your own, reading most of the time. Coriolanus’ library is massive enough to rival the one you have at home. You never run out of things to do in the gigantic penthouse, even sometimes cleaning and cooking to pass the time, efforts Coriolanus never fails to praise you for.

Whenever he returns home to a spotless house or one of your delicious meals, his blue eyes light up with happiness.

And of course, at night, Coryo talks to you in your bed while you dutifully drink your tea, regaling you with stories about his apprenticeship and the University. Most of the time, you never get to learn how they end because you fall asleep.

Thanks to Coriolanus’ herbal mixture, your sleeping schedule is back to relative normalcy. The only downsides are the tea’s peculiar side effects, as near everyday you wake up sore and aching. But the slight inconvenience is minor compared to the benefits you’ve experienced.

All is good and well until one day glimpses of lost memories flash in your brain.

You’re starting to remember the night of Clemensia’s party.

It first happens as you’re gardening with Grandma’am. You’re watering one of the rose bushes when something rushes back to you, something so vivid the watering can in your hand clatters to the ground.

You stumble back, your breaths quickening. Placing a hand between your shoulder blades, Grandma’am helps you find your way to a nearby bench. You collapse atop the bench, your mind whirling.

Her wrinkled features crease in concern.

“Are you alright, sweet girl? Should we call a doctor?”

“I’m fine, grandma’am. Just got dizzy for a bit.”

You smile, hating that you just lied to the older woman. You’re not fine. You’re starting to remember things, things that don’t match up, make no sense.

Terrible things.

I knew you’d feel just perfect around me.

Chills bounce across your spine. Your fingers tighten around the edge of the bench as your breath flows back to your lungs.

You come to a decision.

You need to talk to Coriolanus.

Your brows squeeze together in frustration as the balding man checks your pulse and shines a light in your eyes again. It’s the third time tonight. Coriolanus insisted upon it.

“I told you there was no need for a physician, Coryo.”

“Grandma’am said you almost passed out,” the blonde retaliates.

You heave out a deep exhale as you glance at Tigris and Grandma’am standing nervously by the wall. They’re wearing the same concerned expression.

You wished Grandma’am hadn’t made such a big deal of your little moment in the garden. You feel fine…well, physically at least.

You flash a feeble smile at Coriolanus.

“I didn’t…it was just a dizzy spell. Nothing honestly.”

Brows knitting, he turns to the bespectacled older man at his side.

“Doctor?”

As the man nearly approaches you again, you shoot him a warning glare. You refuse to be poked and prodded once more. Lifting his hands, the man falls back.

He adjusts the stethoscope around his neck.

“I see nothing wrong,” he says. Your shoulders sag in relief. “Still, I’d recommend that your wife takes it easy, sir.”

His words make every hair on your skin stand on end.

“I’m not his wife,” you snap.

Coriolanus’ jaw ticks.

He turns to the others and instructs, “Everyone, leave us alone.”

There’s a flicker of hesitation on Tigris’ face. She lingers at your doorstep after Grandma’am and the doctor take their leave.

“Are you really sure that you’re okay?” she asks.

You purse your lips. “I’d feel better if everyone stopped fussing over me.”

She nods before leaving as well.

As soon as the door to your bedroom closes, Coriolanus sinks to one knee in front of you. He takes your hands in his, his thumbs brushing circles into your skin.

His cobalt eyes are wide and worried.

“Is something wrong?”

Your stomach knots. “Coriolanus…”

“Yes?”

You draw your hands back, placing them on your lap. His gaze tracks the tiny motion and he squints.

“That night…” You lick your lips, nerves flaring as your fingers bounce. Just these two words have Coriolanus’ attention on you sharpen in a way that turns your blood to ice. Still you gather your courage and continue, “Did I say no at any point, tried to…stop it? Did…Did you, Coryo?”

The moment your doubts are uttered aloud, you loathe yourself. It’s an awful thing to even suggest. But you can't shake the feeling that there is something Coriolanus isn’t telling you.

And maybe you always felt that way, like something isn’t quite right, but you craved so badly to have a piece of your brother near that you ignored the glaring signs.

Shock paints Coriolanus’ handsome face.

“What? I already told you everything that happened, that I was drunk, we both were.”

You peer at Coriolanus. It hurts. So goddamn much. A knife twisting in your chest, again and again. Especially that look of utter betrayal on his face. You don’t want to casually toss those kinds of accusations at your friend.

But your mind…

It’s bursting at the seams, moments you’re beginning to recall seeping through the cracks. You can’t ignore that. Not the sick echo of Coriolanus’ lustful tone. Not the terrifying glint swaying in his blue eyes. Not the way he panted and grunted above you as you told him to stop. Or at least you think you told him?

You’re not even sure. You’re torn. Coriolanus wouldn’t do that…right? Someone you trust. Someone Sejanus trusted…with you.

Tears swell in your eyes, threatening to break past the confine of your lashes.

Anger flashes in Coriolanus’ eyes. “Really?” he scoffs, bolting to his feet. “You don’t trust me?”

He blurs in your tear-stained vision, distorting to hazy colors you don’t recognize anymore.

“Coryo…” you sob.

He hunkers in front of you again. The anger vanishes, making space for disappointment and sadness.

He cradles your face, his tone softening.

“I would never hurt you,” he mumbles. “How could you even imply…after everything I’ve done for you.”

A shaky breath flutters through your lips. You search Coriolanus’ face, hoping to find something. A truth, an emotion, a lie. Anything, really. Any proof that you’re not crazy, that your mind isn’t just spinning wild stories out of thin air.

Nothing comes up. Coriolanus’ face is a perfect mask of genuine concern and sincerity, right down to his glistening gaze. Doubts even begin to creep inside you beneath his intense stare.

But the longer you look into his eyes, the more unnerved you grow.

Something is off. No one can convince you otherwise. Not anymore.

Goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

“I-I think I need to go home now, Coriolanus.”

You don’t want to be here anymore, in this house you don’t know, with this man…you’re beginning to realize you don’t know either.

You want to be back home, your real home. You crave the safety of your own bed, of Ma’s warm embrace, of the familiar walls of your childhood home.

Instead of acknowledging what you just said, Coriolanus flashes you a bright grin.

“We can discuss it tomorrow.”

A sinking feeling spreads through you. You frown.

“But Coryo-”

He leans to place a tender kiss on your forehead and you freeze. Every cell in your body longs to flinch away from him but gut-gripping fear keeps you in your spot.

“Tomorrow, princess,” he whispers. He fondles your cheek. You can’t tamp down your shudder. Coriolanus’ brow pinches as he gets to his feet. “It’s getting late. You should go to bed.”

Coriolanus heads for the door.

“Sweet dreams,” he coos, smiling. But it doesn’t reach his eyes.

When the door slams shut, a sound you never heard before echoes from outside. The sound of a key slotting and turning inside a lock. The kind of sound suggesting you’re now trapped in the room.

Your gut sinks.

You find yourself wondering; will tomorrow ever come?

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas fanfiction

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