#to me its only a matter of time before they just straight up put him somewhere. and you can see him.

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

I love Monkie kid and the way they tell stories but oh my GODS this unreliable narrator stuff starting to stress me out

(Note: i've only seen up to ses 4 ep 8 no spoilers in the tags please)

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

i hope the tumblr girlies know about the fact that the handler was originally supposed to be in winter break. bc i don't think a day goes by that i don't think about it.

[timmydraker]

Tim Drake is a selkie.

No one outside of Janet Drake knows this, and she ensure it is kept a secret purely for the fact that if it gets out people will quickly realise that neither she nor Jack is a selkie themselves.

They would realise that Janet had an affair.

The man she had met on their trip overseas had gotten her pregnant and then vanished, seemingly disappearing into thin air.

It wasn’t until Tim was born that she was sure it was the other man’s child, if not for the distinctly black hair than the smooth pelt like band around his wrist.

His father had one similar and he refused to take it off.

The first time Tim transformed was luckily when Janet was still sure she wanted to be a mother and was bathing him at just four months old. When the little boy with bright blue eyes suddenly went quiet and then rolled over in the bath, she watched as he turned into a small baby seal.

Janet had screeched and backed up in shock, only to watch as the seal looked at her with big black eyes and seemingly start to cry before he shifted back into Tim.

The band around his wrist came off and was the perfect shape of the seals pelt from earlier, sitting in the tub like it hadn’t just shifted Janet’s entire life out of balance.

Naturally she hid the hide and made sure Tim never saw it again, especially when there were no more shifting incidents.

Tim was nine when he found it and well accustomed to his parents lying to him about a range of things, all varying in importance. They lied about when they would be home, about stocking the fridge, about being at his science fair…

But when Tim was sneaking into his mums closet to try find one of her spare credit cards, he found the pelt and something in him felt whole.

Tim had always felt like something wasn’t right about him. He felt like his very body was missing, or maybe his soul, and no matter what he did he couldn’t find a way to fill that gap. Being in water helped, so did showers and sunlight, though it was never enough.

It was why he started skating and stalking Batman and Robin, just to distract himself.

Photography worked best though.

Yet as he reached a tentative hand out to touch the pelt he swore he could feel himself being put back together like a puzzle.

Tim didn’t shift straight away, not when he was left stuck in the blissful feeling of his skin feeling right for the first time he could recall.

It was when he watched the pelt shift to wrap around his bare arm like a sleeve that he shifted.

The seal form he took wasn’t what he expected, but of course it wasn’t.

From then on Tim would spend every chance he got with the pelt, learning to control both the shifting of his skin and how to disguise the hide on his person. He usually kept it as some kind of band that covered his arm or waist, keeping it close to his hand at all times so he could check that it was safe.

He never wore it when his parents were home, just in case.

Naturally, he did research and learnt what he was as best he could.

By the time Janet realised he was taking the hide out of its hiding spot he was thirteen and almost finished his Robin training. He had kept it hidden from Batman if only because he was scared and not even sure if his mother really knew what it was, but when he came home to find her in his room he knew it was over.

She had held out her hand and said in the calmest voice she could, “hand it over, Timothy.”

Tim didn’t.

Janet had stood up and gripped his wrist, quickly finding the pelt around his arm and yanking it off of him.

Tim had cried, not out of physical pain but mental. It was like he was being put under some kind of spell and he found himself unable to move to snatch it back as Janet held the now pelt in a too tight grip.

“You will not touch this again, you hear me? I’m going to burn it.”

And she tried, she really did, but then Tim started to scream. The loud, echoing wails rang through the entire mansion until Jack rushed to his son and tried to figure out what the hell was wrong with him.

Janet only stopped when Jack started calling for her to call an ambulance and she came up with the badly damaged pelt to find her son seizing on the floor with his skin burning red.

Tim calmed down quickly once she put it under water, but he was still shaking and sobbing wildly.

He never found out how she managed to convince Jack to not call for an ambulance or to leave them alone, and Tim tried not to think about how little Jack had to care for him to accept so easily.

Janet had given him the pelt back and watched him sob as he held it to his chest and wailed.

The next trip they went on lasted seven months and in that time he spent as much as he could in his seal form to focus on healing his damaged skin.

It was still burnt, ugly scars covering the bottom and entire left side of his fur, but he learnt to maintain it.

After that he kept the pelt hidden under armour in the Robin uniform.

When Jason attacked him he cut the pelt through his armour, not knowing it was there. He managed to not cut it in half and in a twisted irony got right over where it wasn’t scarred.

Tim managed to hide it from Batman but at that point he was sure that Alfred suspected something.

Yet it wasn’t until Damian that anyone found out.

At that point Tim felt safe enough to have his pelt kept as a thick band around his wrist, out and open but only in the manner.

As much as he wanted to hate him, Tim couldn’t blame Damian when after a year and a half of him being there and the two working out a few differences and issues, he noticed. Tim hadn’t worn it visible since he first arrived and tried to kill Tim, but he had subconsciously felt safer around Damian and the boy was the best at spitting changes in others appearance.

“Oh.”

Bruce had looked up at Damian while Tim minded his business stirring his tea, “what’s up, chum?”

Damian pointed to Tim’s wrist, “I was not aware you were a Selkie, Drake. I apologise if I damaged you pelt in my attacks.”

Tim had tensed so badly that he was sure that Superman could hear his joints locking even though he was off planet.

Naturally Tim started to hyperventilate when Bruce asked with genuine confusion, “What?”

Tim bolted to his room as quickly as he could and shut the door before sliding down it and clutching his pelt-band to his chest with his free hand.

It could have been a few seconds or minutes, but it felt like a whole hour before Tim heard a knock at the door and the calm, gentle voice of Bruce talking through it.

“Tim? Can you open up for me please?”

Shaking his head even when the other couldn’t see, Tim let out a whimper and crawled quickly to the bathroom as his panic took over.

By the time he heard the door open he was in his preferred form of a half seal, his lower body only and the skin of his back shifted, and clutching his inhuman lower body.

Bruce came in and stared at him in shock for a bit before swallowing.

Coming to sit beside the tub, Bruce reached over and turned on the tap to let water begin to run into the tub.

Tim was grateful if not a little confused by the action and finally got the courage to look up at him.

Bruce looked awkward as hell, but was clearly trying if the small smile on his face was any evidence.

Reaching a big hand over, he held it palm up for Tim until the young man reached out to accept it and placed his own now damp hand in his.

“I… I don’t know what exactly you are, but I do know that you are my son. Damian seems to think I should know already and maybe I should, but not because you didn’t tell me. As much as it pains me to say it, I get why you wouldn’t trust me.”

Tim shook his head, “I trust you, Bruce. I just… the less people who know, the less likely I’ll loose my pelt again.”

Bruce frowned but said nothing about what that implied , though Tim knew he’d be asked about it later. It didn’t help that his lower half showed the most of his burn scars.

“I’m sorry, Tim. I can’t change what has been done, but I can promise you I will never, ever take you pelt form you. I don’t know ow exactly what it means, I’ve never heard of a selkie before, but Damian seemed to think it was important.”

Tim smiled even as he wondered how Damian knew what his pelt was.

Bruce gave his hand a squeeze, “He seemed to gain a lot more respect for you because of it.”

Damian spoke from where he was at the door, making Tim jump and Bruce inhale in a way that showed he was taken off guard, “Of course I have. Selkies are nearly extinct and Timothy had survived to almost nineteen without loosing his pelt.”

Tim fully shifted in his shock.

[sushiyuzu]

cooking dinner

warning: fluff — sylus cooks dinner for the 2 of you 🍽

- second acc: @blushpawss

spices.

and herbs.

those were the very first things you smell the moment you stepped into the kitchen, catching the familiar scent of the ingredients that only meant one thing—sylus was cooking again.

he stood at the stove, his posture as straight and composed as ever, every movement precise. it was a sight you’d seen before, yet it never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

“cooking for me again?” you asked with a playful lilt, leaning against the doorway. “you spoil me, you know that?”

sylus turned his head just enough to give you a quick glance, his expression as serious as ever. “someone has to make sure you eat properly,” he said, his voice deep and matter-of-fact.

you chuckled, stepping closer. “oh, is that right? or are you just showing off your cooking skills again?”

he huffed, the corners of his lips twitching upward in the faintest hint of a smile. “maybe a little of both,” he admitted, his tone softening as he stirred the contents of the pot with care.

you sat down at the kitchen island, already feeling the warmth and comfort that came with these moments. sylus’s tough exterior remained intact—brow furrowed, eyes focused—but there was no denying the gentleness in his actions, especially when it was for you.

“do you need any help?” you offered, even though you knew he’d say no.

as expected, he shot you a firm look. “i’ve got this, sweetie,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “just sit and relax. i’m making your favorite.”

your chest tightened at his words, the simple act of him remembering what you liked making your heart flutter. “you didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” you said, touched by the unexpected gesture.

“it’s not trouble,” sylus said firmly, his serious gaze locking onto yours. “you deserve to be taken care of.”

for a moment, you were speechless, caught off guard by the tenderness in his eyes. it was rare for him to show his softer side, but when he did, it always left you breathless. “thank you,” you said softly, feeling warmth spread through you.

he gave a curt nod, turning back to the stove as if the brief moment of vulnerability had never happened. “now be a good kitty for me and stay quiet,” he instructed, his tone returning to its usual firm and authoritative manner.

you obeyed, a smile tugging at your lips as you watch him continue cooking, his movements efficient and precise, yet you could tell he was putting extra care into each step.

you smiled, resting your chin in your hands as you watched him work. “you’re such a softie, you know that?”

his brow furrowed even more, and he avoided your gaze, a light flush dusting his cheeks. “i have no idea what you’re talking about,” he muttered, turning back to the stove with a slight smirk plastered on his face.

“sure you don’t,” you teased, enjoying how flustered he got whenever you pointed out the obvious.

within minutes, he was plating up dinner—your favorite dish��presenting it with the same care and precision you’d seen him use a dozen times before. he set the plate in front of you with a small nod, and you couldn’t help but feel touched by the effort he always put into making sure everything was perfect.

“it smells amazing,” you said sincerely, picking up your fork.

“it should taste that way too,” he said with a hint of pride, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you take the first bite.

you hummed in delight, your eyes lighting up. and for a moment, you swore you saw the tension in his shoulders ease.

“oh my god, sylus,” you said, genuinely impressed. “this is... this is really good!”

he let out a breath, almost as if he’d been holding it, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. “i’m glad,” he said, his voice dropping to that softer tone again.

“you know,” you said, your voice gentle, “you don’t have to do this all the time. i’d be happy with something simple too.”

sylus paused, glancing over his shoulder with that serious expression that always made your heart race. “sweetie, it’s not about simple or complicated,” he said quietly. “it’s about doing things for you.”

you were momentarily stunned, your heart swelling at his words. sigh. he always said the most heartfelt things in the simplest way, catching you off guard every single time.

“you really are impossible,” you said, shaking your head with a smile.

he shrugged, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “i’ve heard worse,” he said, and there was a softness in his eyes that told you he didn’t mind being impossible if it was for you.

you both ate together, the atmosphere warm and comfortable despite his serious demeanor. there were moments when you caught him watching you, a softness in his gaze whenever you looked back at him. it was those fleeting glances that made your heart swell, knowing that underneath that tough exterior, there was a gentle, caring side he only revealed to you.

after dinner, you started to get up to clear the dishes, but sylus’s hand shot out, stopping you. “i’ll handle it,” he said firmly, his eyes locking onto yours with that usual intense seriousness.

“but—” you began, only to be cut off.

“sit,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. then, softer, “you’ve had a long day. let me take care of this.”

your cheeks warmed, and you sank back into your seat, watching as he cleaned up the kitchen with the same efficiency he brought to everything he did. he was so focused, so diligent, and yet there was a certain tenderness in the way he handled everything—like he was making sure everything was perfect just for you.

“you’re really sweet, you know that?” you said suddenly, unable to hold back the smile that spread across your face.

sylus raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “oh? only just now noticing?” he teased, his voice carrying a slight hint of cockiness.

you rolled your eyes, but your smile widened. “don’t let it get to your head,” you warned, playfully nudging his arm.

“too late,” he shot back with a chuckle, leaning in just a little closer. “and besides, i’m not just sweet. i’m unforgettable.”

you let out a laugh, shaking your head. “okay, okay, mr. unforgettable,” you said, feeling your heart flutter at the confident sparkle in his eyes.

“that’s more like it,” sylus said, his tone softening as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. “just making sure you know what you’ve got.”

you felt your cheeks heat up, your playful retort momentarily caught in your throat as his gaze softened, his expression both teasing and sincere.

you smiled once more, feeling a rush of affection for the man who, despite his stoic exterior, was always so gentle with you.

“finish your wine,” he said, his tone brusque as he continued washing the dishes, but you saw the way his shoulders relaxed, the faint blush that dusted his cheeks.

you sipped your wine, feeling incredibly lucky to have someone who, while serious and tough to the world, had a heart that was soft and gentle when it came to you.

[notjustjavierpena]

Happy Birthday, Joel

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Happy outbreak day— I mean, happy birthday to Joel Miller!

Summary: You have snuck out to have birthday-morning-sex with Joel. 

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, they are so in love, birthday sex, morning sex, Daddy kink, dry humping, orgasm denial, cowgirl, dirty talk, blowjob, come swallowing 

Word count: 2.9k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59232835

Happy Birthday, Joel

A window in the bedroom has been cracked. The fresh autumn wind seeps into the room each time it blows over the house, changing the air to something that doesn’t smell like hazy sleep but forces Joel to be awake with you. None of you feel cold though because you are sitting comfortably in Joel’s lap on his wide bed. He has his back against the headboard and a dazed look on his face, bare-chested, beautiful, and propped up against a pillow because you have woken him up like this. 

His calloused hands are on your thighs that are on each side of his body, kneading the flesh gently while murmuring about nothing in the soft pitch that he only has saved for you. He talks quietly and groggily about the weather, the work he has to do on his porch come autumn, but mostly about how good you look on top of him right now, too good to be real, and makes you giggle when he jokes about this being a dream. 

You lean forward to let him feel the softness of the wooly fabric of your oversized sweater brush against his chest, resulting in it slipping off your shoulder. You threw it on just before you tiptoed out of the door, didn’t even bother with pants because you were going straight to the car that no one told you that you could borrow. The sleeves drape past your wrists, tickling his neck and cheek as you touch his jawline. 

“Happy birthday,” you say with an affectionate smile, scratching his scruffy beard with your fingertips. 

“You’re gonna get yourself into trouble, sweetheart,” his voice is laced with sleep, his hands moving slightly on your thighs as if he is deciding how to touch you. You have heat building in your belly, desire making its way through your veins. He chooses to reach up to grip the neck of your sweater, “Sneakin’ over here like this.”

“I’ll be kind enough not to ask how old you are now,” you add to earn a low chuckle, not wanting to entertain the disastrous what-ifs that roam around in his head. Joel yanks at the neck of the sweater, exposing your already bare shoulder even further. He connects his mouth to your impossibly soft skin there, his beard scratching you lightly as he trails his mouth up a path on your shoulder. He kisses every inch he can get to without undressing you fully. 

“Good girl,” he teases back at you, nosing along your neck with his voice vibrating against you, “Don’t needa remind me that I’m old.” 

“You’re not old. You’re perfect,” you cradle his head in your hands, threading your fingers through his salt-and-pepper curls and sighing towards the ceiling. He might think that this - you - is a bad idea but the way his lips feel on your body, the way he puts his whole being into touching you and kissing you like he is starving for you, tells you one thing: Joel Miller cannot stop wanting you. No matter the consequences, no matter the guilt, and no matter how much he tries to convince himself otherwise. 

“Joel,” his name falls from your mouth like a plea, breathless and light as you grip him tightly, “You don’t know what you do to me.” 

“You’re stealin’ my line,” he gives you one last kiss on the column of your neck and smiles up at you. His hands go down your body again, giving you time to suck in a deep breath. However, it’s doomed to not last and your breath hitches in your throat as he slips his palms up under your sweater. His warm fingers skim over the small of your back and up the curve of your spine.

When he lifts your sweater up and off your body, you do not protest even if you are completely bare underneath it. His gaze is on yours with adoration for a moment of not wavering once before he takes the opportunity to look down at your exposed chest. 

Your nipples have hardened at the slight chill, your arms squeezing your breasts together a little with how you still rest your hands on his neck and shoulders.  He places a palm just above your belly button and runs it up your body, skimming it over your breast to make you tremble in his arms. He lets his hand descend again, this time with a knuckle brushing over your nipple. You visibly shiver, chewing on your bottom lip as he worships you silently. 

“Is my doll cold?” He drawls, voice thick like honey, and your thoughts start to blur at the nickname. 

“No, Daddy,” you tell him and it’s the truth; you are burning from the inside out at how much your heartbeat is racing nowhere in your chest, having moved south long ago to soak your panties through to his boxers.

“By the way, you weren’t right,” he brushes your jaw when his free hand reaches for your chin to pull you towards his mouth. His thumb dances over your bottom lip, “I know exactly what I’m doin’ to ya, babygirl.”

You give the finger a gentle kiss, parting your lips to allow him to feel your tongue if he wants but when he doesn’t move, you slip out your tongue just a peek to teasingly lick his thumb as an imitation of how well you suck his cock. He smirks at that, letting his thumb go inside the heat of your mouth. He presses down on your tongue as if to test you, whispering how good you are for him as he does it. 

Underneath you, his cock has gone from half-soft to fully hard in mere seconds, pressing insistently against your core. He might think he is old but this part of him shows no proof of that. You dare move your hips back and forth once, dragging your wet underwear over the length of his erection. 

He groans alongside you but your sound is obscene in comparison, escaping around his digit in your mouth. The friction against your cunt is delicious, so much so that the fabric between your thighs has started to cling to you. 

“Give Daddy some sugar. It’s his birthday,” he commands with his hips bucking up, not being able to help how his body craves you first thing in the morning. His thumb slips from your mouth, dragging a string of spit down your chin in its wake. He curls both hands firmly around your waist again, pulling you flush against him so he can move you deliberately on his dick and watch your tits bounce. 

He guides you slowly over his thick length with ragged breathing, staring at the quick rise and fall of your chest when your clit gets the attention it desperately needs. You grip his shoulders and arch your back at the way pleasure rips through you, and though your cunt might feel empty, you feel everything start to build already just behind your clit. 

“That’s it, look at you, this my birthday present? Jeeesus, you look amazin’, look at those tits,” he praises breathlessly, throbbing against the damp fabric that separates the two of you. He dares grip your hips even harder, his fingers digging into the plump skin of your ass, and pull you down harder on him. 

Your moans grow in volume, your eyes fluttering closed as heat racks up your spine from the small of your back when tension starts to build. It pulls the coil tighter and tighter inside of you and causes you to whimper, the noise making Joel’s cock twitch underneath you. 

“Tell me, baby,” he groans and you dread the command that might come because you can’t think right now. One of his hands slips up your back to make sure you don’t fall off of him. Your clit is pulsing on the edge of release, knowing that it doesn’t need much more before you’ll explode, “Tell me when you’re ‘bout to come, okay?”

You hate him for it but still nod anyway, unable to speak for a moment, your breath only consisting of tiny gasps as you ride the edge of your impending orgasm. Still, with your eyes squeezed shut, you manage to speak just a few, barely incomprehensible words, “I’m gonna— I’m so close, Daddy.”

But before you can finish, before that final moment where your brain shuts off to feel your cunt spasm, Joel has halted your movements by holding your hips still. You whimper, trying to keep going because the pleasure is still there just out of reach, but his grip is unyielding and his disapproving tone is condescending. 

“Stop, not yet. We do it Daddy’s way on his birthday,” he commands and nearly ignores the tears forming at the corners of your eyes, “Not until I’m inside of ya, baby.”

You whine in response, knowing that he is right. It’ll be much better with him buried in your pussy but your mind is so clouded and delirious with the need for release that it is nearly painful how he is holding your orgasm hostage by gripping your hips like he is. 

“Please,” you say with a tear slipping from your eye.

“Don’t cry, baby, I’m goin’ to let go now,” he replies, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs and leaning up to peck your lips, “But I need ya to be patient. I can’t have my good girl act so bad just for her pussy to feel good.” 

His hands move swiftly to drag his boxers down, settling the waistband just beneath his balls to cut down on the time he’ll be without touching his special girl. The anticipation drives you crazy, a desperate moan leaving you as your hips start to twitch on their own accord. You let out a little moan, brows furrowed as you search for any type of friction. 

“Nooo, just a few more seconds, sweetheart,” he says and drags the word out in the same tone he would use with a puppy causing trouble. He digs his fingers underneath the front of your wet panties to pull them to the side, exposing your swollen pussy to the air in the room. You look down with him, watching how he positions the head of his cock between your folds. 

“Lift yourself up a little— that’s it,” he guides you, shuddering underneath you as you greedily sink down on his length. You should probably have gone slower, a feeble noise escaping your open mouth as you suddenly feel so full of him. There’s a mixture of relief and regret in you as it stings a little to have your soft walls stretched by him, the sensation enough for you to nearly drive you over the edge instantly. 

You exhale shakily, gripping around his cock tightly when you are seated in his lap. Your hands slide up to cup his cheeks, framing his face while you kiss him on the mouth after getting used to him inside of you. There’s only slight movement, a gasp here and there, a twitch of Joel’s cock inside of your wet cunt. 

You move a little to find that your clit brushes against his pelvis, and while capturing his mouth in a searing and desperate first proper kiss of today, you start moving your hips instinctively. Hearing the low, guttural moan that tumbles from Joel’s mouth in response is enough to spur you on. 

You feel his hands move up your back and around your front to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples while you ride him as if your life depended on it. He says your name in a half-chuckle and half-moan, tries urging you to slow down, but you are lost in the way he feels when he fucks you. 

“I love you,” he decides to say instead of something close to a scolding, pulling you out of your trance. You stare down into his eyes that are glazed over with desire, whimpering at the head of his cock brushing that little spot inside of you that has you hurtling towards your orgasm. 

“I love you too, Daddy,” you say softly, blinking down at him. He grabs your arms as they rest on his shoulders, pulling them from their place so he can entwine your fingers on both hands. 

“No-no, no Daddy,” he says with a ragged breath, glancing briefly down at where you are connected and angling his hips to make it easier for you to grind against him. Your moans climb in pitch and he places your hands on his chest, “Just Joel right now. C’mon, lemme hear you say it.”

“I love you, Joel,” you give him a hazy smile and rest your forehead against his.

“Good girl,” he whispers and then grabs your hips again. He starts to move beneath you, slow and steady in contrast to your youthful need of going hard and fast, his hips rolling smoothly and with no urgency. You struggle with it at first but he growls at you, holding you tighter than before and it feels like you might bruise if you disobey him. He guides you, controls you, steering you as you ride his leaking cock while your clit gets just the right amount of pressure. 

“Joel,” you gasp, starting a sentence but barely knowing where to go with it at the feel of him filling you up over and over.

“My perfect girl,” he replies. You make him groan when you drag your fingertips through the hairs on his chest, scratching desperately as the tension between your legs starts building again. 

It’s not long before you are teetering on the edge again, whining so loudly that people might be able to hear you through the window. Joel is right behind you, panting as the muscles of his strong thighs strain to make him pound up into you. 

You hold on for dear life, crying out his name as everything becomes too much, and your orgasm tears through you without mercy. Each ripple of pleasure has you feeling delirious, drunk on the feeling of getting pounded through the intoxicating spasms around his generous size and he fucks you all the way through your aftershocks. But even as it fades, he doesn’t stop moving in his quest for his own release, doesn’t want to stop before he has had his fill. He keeps the pleasure in your body burning as he continues spearing you repeatedly and it becomes hard for you to figure out where your orgasm begins or ends. 

You don’t know when you’ve started giggling in post-orgasmic bliss between feeble whimpers, bouncing in his lap as every nerve in your body is on fire, but you eventually start babbling ridiculously between gasps, “I can’t— Joel, I— Let me suck you off.”

Joel curses at your suggestion, his hips faltering for just a moment before he finds the willpower to stop his thrusts completely, “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

“I would never,” you say sweetly, making sure that your words drip from your lips like honey. You push down on his chest to slide off of him, a noise leaving you as his cock slips from your dripping, used pussy. You move shakily down between his legs, pulling the covers a little to the side to make room, “Especially not on Daddy’s birthday.”

You can see how close he is by the blush on his chest, how much he is holding back, and you decide not to waste any time. You wrap your hand around the base of his soaked cock and lower your head enough to place a wet kiss on the head, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Fuck,” he groans when you take him fully into your mouth afterward, bobbing your head with a hum and hollowing your cheeks. He is a treat, tasting sweet of you and slightly bitter of his own precome, “That’s it, princess, you fuckin’ know how to suck Daddy’s cock.”

You moan around him as a way of confirming the truth of that statement. Then you hear his head bump against the wall, the picture above the bed moving from side to side, and suddenly, hands are in your hair to guide you up and down on his length. Your eyes flutter closed and you try to focus on the taste and feel of him on your tongue. Your hand moves to cup his balls, your mouth stretching around him and moving downward until he hits the back of your mouth. 

“I’m gonna come,” he pants, his lower belly jumping with each ragged breath. You prepare for the moment he lets go, opening your eyes again to look at his stunning face when he gives it to you. His hand tightens in your hair, “You want Daddy’s load, huh? Wanna— oh shit, you wanna swallow it up?”

You hum. With a deep, guttural groan of relief, Joel comes in your mouth and his hips twitch while he does it. He spills on your tongue in thick, hot, and salty ropes of white, throbbing obscenely while you swallow down what doesn’t mix with your spit and spills down your chin. 

You keep him in your mouth until he has stopped shuddering from his orgasm, eventually pulling off of him with a wet pop. You rest your head against his hip, staring up at him lovingly, “Happy birthday, Joel Miller.”

“You little minx,” he chuckles, running a hand over his hair as he tries to catch his breath, “You had that planned from the beginning, didn’t you?”

And maybe you did.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[vxnuslogy]

– jealous charms.

pairing: wise x gn!reader

premise: when jealous, wise had an interesting habit of trying to outdo whoever caught your attention. he needn't worry though, he'll still be your favorite forever.

– warnings: none

– author's note: another filler fic until i finish that one sunday fic that i've been marinating for 2 days now. | ~1.7k words.

“master, is it safe to conclude that you’re jealous of miss grace howards from belobog industries? you’ve been awfully engrossed in trying to replicate her creation for [name].”

a loud clatter echoed in the room as the pair of pliers in wise’s hand suddenly dropped to his work table. your head darts to wise’s hunched figure. his back was awfully straight and shoulders tensed as you raised an amused brow at him when he stood up from his seat and marched his way to fairy. muttering quiet curses as the bangboo on your lap tilted its head at him.

“is that why you’ve been glaring at her whenever we visit the construction site?” you questioned with a teasing tone. wise swiveled his head to your direction and narrowed his gentle eyes at you but you only let out an amused snort. he looked more like a wet cat than a big shot proxy with the way his cheeks burned red all the way to the tips of his ears. the color could probably rival the red tassel earring you gave him last year on chinese new years.

“firstly, i am not jealous–”

“i would beg to differ, master.”

“second!” wise turned to fairy, a hand to his hip while the other ran down his face, voice raising slightly as he tried to rid off the flustered tint on his cheeks. “if i were to be jealous of someone, it wouldn’t be grace.”

“will mister anton from belobog industries be the next candidate?” the ai quipped at him making the gray haired boy groan in frustration.

a laugh rippled from your chest as wise pouted and begrudgingly went back to his work station. but not before narrowing his eyes one last time at a glowing blue eyeball (?) that was fairy.

“aww wise it’s okay,” you gently place the bangboo down on the floor and make your way to wise. trying your hardest to take a peek at whatever he’s been working on. or at least get confirmation that he was actually making what you thought he was making. “everyone gets jealous sometimes.”

wise didn’t appreciate your teasing remark because he rolled his eyes at you and threw a piece of paper at your face. “seeing as though you’re not doing anything, do me a favor and pick up some more films for the store.”

it was your turn to pout. “jealousy doesn’t suit you at all, wise.”

with a sigh, you reluctantly left the room when he raised a brow at you with a smirk tugging at his lips. you hated how such a small quirk up of his lips melted all of your teasing. but then again, when it comes to anything related to wise you didn’t put up too much of a fight, no matter what it was.

– –

wise was not jealous. he repeatedly reminded himself of those words like a broken record. reciting it like a mantra in his head as he continued to bend and break the pieces of metal in front of him.

“master, now that the subject of your affection is gone, will you finally admit to being jealous?”

fairy’s words sent a shiver down his spine, silently thanking belle and you for going out to the arcade and prolonging your inevitable return even more. if either one of you heard fairy, he wouldn’t be able to live it down. a defeated sigh left his lips when he dropped his tools and buried his head in his arms.

“fairy, please just shut up.” wise’s voice was no more than a muffled plea as fairy continued to torment him.

“but all the data i’ve collected all share the same conclusion: you are jealous master.”

wise turned his head to their hdd system that glowed blue as fairy’s avatar floated. “okay so maybe i am a little jealous.” 

“but why, master?” wise felt an oncoming headache approach as fairy listed out the reason why he shouldn’t be jealous. “hollow raider [name] has made it clear on many occasions that they favor you the most. their sudden interest in miss grace howards cannot compare to their interest in you.”

wise knew that but it still didn’t feel right to him. with a groan he dropped his head back on the desk, his free hand coming to inspect the silver band he’s been working on for the past few weeks. “you’re making me feel stupid here, fairy.” an uncharacteristic pout graced his lips when he remembered how your eyes shined like bright diamonds when grace showed you her newest invention.

“it’ll help you in the hollows!” she had proudly proclaimed. and ever since that day, you’ve been wearing the bracelet that doubled as a tracker for both your health and your position to every mission you took on. wise felt the pricks of jealousy whenever you praised the older woman with a dazzling grin and an excited “it was very helpful!”

“i’m also helpful.” he muttered to no one in particular. 

“of course you are! you’re my proxy after all.”

wise felt his heart lurch out his chest as he hurried hid the band inside his hand when you appeared in the room. like a deer caught in headlights, he stiffly smiled at you. “w-when did you get back…?” he cooly asked, or at least he hoped it sounded cool enough for you to brush off whatever you heard.

with your hands behind your back, you stalked your way to his desk. “just a moment ago. belle is shelving all the new films now.” you lean in closer to wise’s space, trying for the second time to catch a glimpse at whatever it was he was working on. a tentative smile forming on your face when you ask him, “will you finally show me what you’re making? i won’t laugh, i promise.”

you certainly wouldn’t laugh, but you would tease him relentlessly. a final sigh escaped him as he leaned back on his seat and opened up the hand that hid his creation. “it’s… really nothing.” his voice was unusually timid when you walked over to his desk and took a peak. being in such close proximity with you has his poor heart and mind swimming. you wore perfume today and it was all wise could think about as you gingerly pick up the silver band.

“you need to give yourself more credit, wise.” 

this wasn’t good. if you continued to look at him like that he would surely melt into a puddle, and that would be incredibly embarrassing. a smile broke out from your face as you unclipped grace’s wristband and put wise’s creation on your wrist.

“does it have any functions?” wise has always enjoyed your curious nature. sure, it got you in trouble most of the time, but he found it incredibly endearing. he shook his head and opened up the closest drawer and pulled out a matching band several sizes smaller. “not any advanced ones, not yet at least.”

wise stood up from his seat and picked up the bangboo peacefully dozing off in one of the corners. taking its small arm gently, he slid the band over and glowed a soft white. the same thing happened to the one you wore and wise swore he felt his heart skip a few beats when you looked at him with big eyes filled with wonder.

“but it can accurately track your ether aptitude and send me an emergency message when you’re reaching your limit,” picking up the bangboo in his arms, wise made his way back to his desk and placed the little creature on it. “it’s still a work in progress, but i hope it’ll eventually be able to map out full hollows without much trouble.” 

your silence made wise nervous. you were never this quiet and he didn’t dare to look at you. that is until he felt a pair of arms wrap around his head and the scent of your perfume invading his senses. his breath started to quicken as you nuzzled your face into his hair, hands resting on his shoulders. wise felt his entire body tingle when your chuckle vibrated through his entire body and left a fuzzy feeling in his chest, a swarm of freed butterflies fluttering inside his stomach when you pulled away. warm hands holding both of his cheeks that were no doubt burning a bright red.

“did you make this for me?” wise didn’t like the way your eyes crinkled into amused crescents. “or did you just want to outstage miss grace?” he heard your laugh ring out when he turned his head to the side and murmured a soft maybe into your palm.

“god you’re so cute you know that?” a wide smile spread across your face as you smothered the boy into another hug. “don’t worry, no one could ever replace my proxy.”

wise wasn’t a physically affectionate person, not by a lot at least. but right now when he feels your laughter so close to his heart, he can’t help but wish to stay in your embrace. his arms slowly snaked to wrap around your waist and pull you closer, wanting to hug you like how your skin hugs the bones that make up your entirety. how lovely it must be to live inside your heart, to feel every beat pulsing through him as he listens to your heartbeat. slightly erratic but still calm, so unlike his that was beating so rapidly he feared it might escape his ribs and offer itself to you. 

“maybe i was a little jealous.” he didn’t know what urged him to say that but the laughter it stole from you made him smile like a fool. wise would stay jealous forever if you would hug him like this every time to assure him that he was still your favorite form of protection.

“thank you for always caring about me, wise.” there was such vulnerability in your voice that made wise tremble in your hold. all he could offer was a hum as he buried his head further into your chest making you chuckle. if only you knew the lengths he would go to just to keep you glued to his side, away from all harm and danger.

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.

[dotster001]

When You Escape Him; Diasomnia

Summary: Yandere Diasomnia x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.

A/N: so, turns out the burnout was actually sleep deprivation. Who knew!

Heartslaybul Savannaclaw Octavinelle Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Non NRC Staff

CW: major spoiler under the cut, but it does need a content warning, so if you want to see it, it's there, if not, skip straight to Mal's picture. yandere stuff, capture, forced sleep, implied past forced sleep, threats to innocents, Lilia is a shit in 3/4 of these,blood, implied previous injury, implied minor character death

Spoiler Content Warning: reader dies in Sebek 's part.

Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.

"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.

Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.

And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.

In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.

Malleus had done something. Something unnatural. You'd at first kind of believed him. But the horns had started growing in on your son. This was your and Malleus' biological child. As unnatural and impossible as it was, you had no doubt.

The woman who ran the safe house had told you to put him up for adoption. She'd smiled sympathetically, but she told you in no uncertain terms that this child would damn everyone there. So either the child had to go, or you'd both have to go. She gave you until the next morning to leave. She'd send you with food and money, but you couldn't stay there. 

But an hour later, as your son had summoned a storm with his crying, she had knocked on your door and told you she couldn't give you until the next day anymore. It just wasn't safe. And you understood, so you quickly began to pack, hastily hushing your infant son, who seemed in no hurry to stop crying.

You froze as you heard a boom. Not a boom from the storm your son had summoned. But a boom you recognized. 

You heard screams in the safe house as vines crawled up the outer walls and windows. You looked at the sad little boy that you'd tried to save from a life in a cold palace, with a possessive and jealous father. You shouldn't have even made it this far. But that's exactly why you thought….

It didn't matter now.

You picked him up, and ran out of your room, straight out the door and into the rain.

“Malleus! Enough!” You shouted. “I'll go with you! Just leave them alone!”

Before you stood a huge dragon, surrounded by his army. But as the dragon looked down at you, its eyes softened, and he began to shrink back into the man you married.

He smiled wildly, extending his arms wide.

“Beloved,” he purred, momentarily forgetting his anger as relief filled him.

You walked slowly through the mud, ignoring the cold that seeped in your bones from the excessive rain caused by two separate storms. You took a shuddering breath and stepped into his embrace, fighting off a shiver of a different kind as his arms wrapped around you and your son.

“Don't hurt them. They're all just innocent people who need someplace to stay,” you whispered in his ear.

He pressed his lips to your ears, continuing to purr, as he said, “They tried to hide their king's spouse from him. They must face some sort of punishment.”

“Mal,” you said firmly, gently pulling far enough back that you could look in his eyes. “They weren't hiding me. They were about to tell you where I was.”

A lie. But the only way to keep the people in that building safe.

“I shall spare them then,” he hummed. 

The change was instant. A flicker in his eyes that only you knew well enough to pick up on.

“Lilia, please escort my son home,” he ordered, his eyes not leaving yours as you felt the boy wrenched from your arms. Immediately, Malleus' grip shifted to your arm, and he dragged you along with him, straight into a glowing green portal…

Which led to a tower you recognized.

“Wait, no, no, I'm sorry-”

“If I don't punish you, how will you ever learn?” He waved his staff, summoning a stone table.

“Mal, please, our son-”

“You don't love him, but this will teach you to.”

“I do so love him!”

“Then you wouldn't have broken his family,” he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

There was nowhere to run in the windowless tower, but you knew what came next. So you tried to yank yourself out of his grip, even if it was fruitless.

“What if he doesn't live another hundred years?” You cried as he wrestled you onto the table.

“He will. He has his father's blood.”

At least he admitted it. 

His hand covered your eyes, a green glow beginning to fill your vision.

“He won't remember me,” you pleaded as your body began to grow numb.

“I'll ensure he does.”

You drifted off, falling into dreams designed to “open your heart.” Dreams where the three of you lived happily.

After another hundred years of that, surely you'd become the well behaved spouse he needed. And if not, he had a hundred more years to spend on you. And one day? One day his perfect family would be a reality.

You were elbows deep in another explosion your son had caused through his “science experiments” when you heard a knock on the door.

You blew a hair out of your face, before turning to your son.

“Can you get that, baby?” 

He nodded quickly, happy to do anything to lower his punishment. You dug through some more goo (you didn't want to know what exactly he made) and finally found the bathtub drain. You pulled the plug and…

Nothing.

You groaned. Guess you had to clean it the hard way. Again.

You heard excited noises from the front door, and smiled softly. Your son's partner was prone to making surprise visits, so you figured he was telling them all about his latest explosion. Young love was cute. You hoped it stayed that way.

You pulled your goo covered arms out of the bathtub, and pulled over the bucket that had seen horrors. You began scooping handfuls into it, hoping that less goo would force the drain to go down, when your son came back to the door, looking ecstatic.

“Hey, um, there's someone here to see you.”

You smirked, and said, “Well, as you can see I'm a little busy. Tell them to wait.”

He shook his head vehemently.

“Uh uh, you gotta come see them now.”

The way he was bouncing up and down, it must have been Uncle Epel. He was the favorite Uncle, mainly because he always brought treats with him.

“Well, tell him if he wants to chat, he has to help me clean-”

No sooner had the words left your mouth when some familiar pink magic flew over your shoulder, and made the goo in the bath dissipate. You froze in your place, too scared to look.

“Easy peasy. Luckily I've had a lot of experience with kid's messes, fu fu.”

You were a coward, who was too scared to face fate. As though refusing to face it would mean it would never come up behind you, and wrap his arms around you, affectionately nuzzling your neck.

“How was your vacation?” Lilia hummed.

“That's my dad!” Your son interrupted, excitedly. “It all makes sense now! Why I look fae, why I'm so skilled at magic, why I have a hard time connecting with my peers…”

If Lilia was anyone else, you'd quickly explain it didn't make sense, it was just a sick coincidence. But with him wrapped around you like a python…

You weren't in a position to be dealing with broken ribs, again.

“Not only that, but you have a big brother!” Lilia said happily.

“I do!”

“He's probably downstairs waiting for you! Let's go!”

You couldn't blame your son for falling for Lilia's charms. You'd also made that mistake many years ago. Lilia excitedly took your hand, floating down the stairs while dragging you, your son behind you.

At the bottom of the steps was Silver, who was looking anywhere but at you. Lilia summoned a portal, and you were quickly pulled through it, followed by the two boys.

Your son stared in awe at the mansion that haunted your nightmares.

“We get to live here now?”

“Yes! I have a room all for you, Silver will show you the way, then he'll take you to get a new wardrobe.”

Your son took the stairs two at a time, then paused to look back at you, confused.

“Why haven't we been a family the entire time?”

You stiffened again, but Lilia was a wonderful actor.

“You see, your father is fae and loses track of time. I was supposed to come pick you up. I only just realized how much time passed. I'm so sorry.”

He turned to you, he laced his fingers through your hair, kissing you passionately. He pulled slightly away, whispering,

“Forgive me?”

In an attempt to ease whatever punishment was coming your way, you slowly nodded. You son beamed happily, then looked at you both.

“This is the best day ever! I can't wait to tell my partner!” He pulled out his phone, immediately beginning the call as he continued up the stairs.

“Well? Was that enough of a vacation for you?” Lilia asked coldly.

“How long-”

“Sevens, I knew where you were the whole time. Quite frankly, I'm insulted that you felt otherwise.”

He sounded genuinely insulted. Fuck.

“So…” you trailed off.

“I haven't decided what to do with you yet. You know how important you and my family are to me, yet you ran from me, and stole our son.” He grabbed you by the hair, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“But rest assured, if this happens again, I'll come up with a punishment that leans more…irreversible.”

“Y/N?” 

Fuck. You knew that soft voice. It had a slight tremble of disbelief and shock, so you weren't surprised when you felt a hand gently take your chin, and direct it to a pair of gorgeous auroral hues.

You had thought enough time would pass that you would be unfindable. So here you were, at a cafe with your teenage son, thinking you were safe. What a joke.

“Y/N, where have you been? I missed you.” 

You believed him. God, you wish you didn't, but you did. The problem with Silver was that he never knew what he did wrong. He didn't understand. To him, you just vanished one day, for no reason.

“Oh-” you started, but your son interrupted you.

“Hey, back off,” he said firmly, grabbing his table knife as though that would defend against Silver's sword fighting skills.

Or Lilia's anything, for that matter, as you realized he stood behind his son with a scary look in his eyes. A look you had experience with. A look that said, behave.

“S/N, don't,” you whispered, not daring to pull away from Silver.

“I'm not going to let him take you!” He stood from his seat, causing Silver's eyes to flicker over to him, and grow soft with fondness.

“You're all grown up!”

“Back off-”

“That's enough of that. I appreciate your loyalty, but it would be better suited elsewhere,” Lilia finally spoke, disarming your boy.

“Let go of me-”

“Father, please don't-”

“It's alright, Silver. I've raised two boys, I know how to handle a tantrum,” Lilia said lightly, pinning your son's arms to his sides. “As for you, young man, that's no way to speak to your father, or your grandfather.”

“We're not even related!” He shouted, and it was only then you realized the cafe was empty. They had planned this. Or, more accurately, Lilia had planned this, and probably surprised Silver.

“Enough. I'm putting you in timeout.”

He summoned a portal, and dragged your son towards it.

He turned back towards Silver with a firm look on his face, “Silver. Remember what I taught you.” And then he walked through the portal.

Silver held out a hand for you, and you swallowed your bile as you took it. You walked through the portal together, and found yourself in Silver’s room in the Castle in the Valley of Thorns.

He released your hand, dissipated the portal, and went to lock the door. You took the opportunity to sit on the bed.

Silver sighed as he stared at the floor.

“Father says that if I want to keep you in my life, I have to be more firm.”

He looked back up at you, something new swimming in his eyes. Something that frightened you.

“I don't want to hurt you. But today, seeing you for the first time in so long, I realized he was right.”

The frightening look wavered for a moment, as he said, “Why did you make my son hate me? Do you not think I'd be a good father?”

You sighed, remembering how easy it was to fall prey to Silver's everything. “If it were just you I had to worry about, I know you'd be a great father.”

“Then why…” the look cemented back into frightening again, and he stood stiffly, like a general deciding whether to spare an enemy soldier.

“I've given you a good life, a husband, and a family, but you are taking it for granted. You need to learn to appreciate what you have.”

That was all Lilia. Maybe if you had run away with Silver, you might have saved the last embers of your love for him. But then you might also be killed.

“I have arranged a cell in the dungeon for you. It's comfortable, but isolated. You will stay there until you learn your place.”

You fought to escape his grip as he dragged you down the stairs, pleading with him to see reason. But it was too late, and when the door was latched behind you, you couldn't help but wish you'd thought to try things differently.

You couldn't imagine how it took so long for him to find you. But as you and your son ran in the night, you wished it had been longer.

Ten minutes prior, you'd gotten a call from a wheezing voice you almost didn't recognize.

“Sebek…he…he's coming.”

“Lilia? What are you talking about? Where did you get my number?”

You heard a hard cough, followed by a tired laugh. “Who did you think was your fairy godmother? Run Y/N.”

The call hung up, and you grabbed a bag to start packing, only to hear a loud bang as your front door splintered. Your son had wanted to fight him off, but bless his heart he'd never win. So you'd both escaped out a window and ran.

You knew he was much too fast for you, but your son was fae as well, so he had a chance of getting away. And if you could just wear Sebek out…

You screamed out in pain as you felt something pierce you from behind.

You collapsed to your knees, staring down at the sword poking through your chest.

“No!” Your son screamed, and you choked back the pain long enough to say, “keep running!”

He looked at you regretfully, then angrily stared at something over your shoulder.

“I'll kill you!” He shouted, before running off, and disappearing down an alley.

You swayed from the position on your knees, your vision growing spotty. You turned over your shoulder, vaguely aware of a green haired man staring at you in shock.

Oh. That was Sebek! You had a date today, right? You didn't feel so good though, so maybe you should tell him you had to cancel.

“I… I didn't mean to,” he cried shakily, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. You collapsed again, this time not having the strength to get off your side. He knelt next to you, and felt a sharp pain from something pulling. He laid you on your back, and pressed his hands to your chest, muttering something you couldn't quite hear. His voice sounded like water, moving in and out of your ears.

“Y/N…..don…please…I”

You nodded like you understood. 

His hands came to cup your face. It must be raining, because his hands were all wet. You'd have to make sure Grim remembered to grab an umbrella before class.

You slowly lifted your hand to cup Sebek 's hands that were clutching your face. His cheeks were covered in raindrops, and he seemed to be trying to tell you something important. But you were so tired, it was hard to keep your eyes open.

You had a final moment of clarity, where you stared at Sebek 's broken face, and felt momentary pity for him. But maybe this would teach him something that he would never forget over the course of his long life.

And you thought of your wonderful son escaping this creature, and the black finally completely took your vision.

[tetzoro]

THE GAZE OF A THOUSAND SUNS — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. mihawk !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : mihawk has been called in by the government and has to leave you at the mansion by yourself for awhile. its the night before he has to go and he wants to give you something to remember

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader, established relationship (they’re in love love), unprotected sex, use of petnames (darling, my love), lots of praise, multiple orgasms, creampie, pillow talk — WC : 2.2k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : thank you to nesi for the title teehee so yeah once again i’ve gone insane over a swordsman . i had so much fun writing this .. enjoy !! dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

mihawks magnificent eyes were blown out, eclipsing suns that gave into its greatest desire, letting them consume it until all he was left with lustful pools of darkness in his irises.

“do you want this?” he asks, his sharp breath fanning over your face, cutting back all the layers to you so he can peer right into your core. his fingers deftly cup your chin, keeping your focus on him.

“yes.” your voice is barely above a whisper, threatening to fold under the intensity this man gives out. so commanding with so few words, his aura is like gravity — pulling you under him and casting you in his orbit for as long as he sees fit.

you just hope it lasts for a while.

“then you have me.” as simple as that. mihawk didn’t mess around with games, with the push and pull dynamic. if you were to be a brat, that’s one thing. but when he’s got you laid out before him, sprawling across his deep wine satin sheets is another. 

tonight was all about pleasure. mihawk loathed leaving you alone and he knew it was only a matter of time until the government summoned him for his next task. the things he’d do to keep you safe and content are endless and as long as he puts up with the government, it offers you some sort of peace.

“i don’t want you to go.” you mewl out, fingers weaving into the threads of his hair, latching onto him subtly as a quiet order to stay.

“i don’t want to leave you either, darling.” he ducks down, unable to hold back anymore as his lips brush against your. careful at first, before your tongue pokes out to brush along his lip.

with a grunt, he melts into the kiss, the sweet, saccharine taste of your lips lures him in like his favorite bottle of wine. the taste so full bodied and unique that he couldn’t find anywhere else in the world, one of the things that kept him coming back to you.

drunk on your love, mihawk presses your body against his, his knee slipping between your legs and giving you some reprieve as you grind down onto him.

he doesn’t let up, stealing your breath straight from your lungs as if it would save him, giving him the strength he needs for the battle that is surely coming.

“mihawk-“ you gasp out his name, oxygen pouring into you as you pull away. his lips don’t go far, lingering near yours as he waits to hear you out before he latches onto you once again. 

silently, he lets you guide him as you roll to the side, pinning him under you as you sit up and straddle his lap.

“oh?” mihawk smirks a little, adjusting himself so he’s comfortable under you, gazing up at you with all the adoration a heart can hold. “you wish to be on top tonight?”

“mhm.” you bend over, bringing your face close to his, fingers trailing down his bare chest. “it’s only fair i take care of you tonight.”

“and whys that?” he tilts his head to the side a little, curious as to what you were thinking. his eyes remained fixated on your lips, watching the way they move as you speak to him.

“because when you come back to me, you never leave me any room to do so.” you tease lightly, pressing a light kiss against his lips.

mihawk chuckles lightly. you weren’t wrong — anytime he came back to you he’d push you up against a wall and take you the moment he laid his sharp eyes on you. a primal urge to mate with you, solidify the fact he was home and you were safe. adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he fucks you until you’re both a heap of sweaty limbs tangled on his bed.

“then go on, my love.” his hands grip your waist, a strength that only comes from wielding his beloved sword, yoru. “have away with me.”

you grin, sitting up to untie the string behind your neck that held your dress up. in a swift motion, it’s undone, the top half of it falling and pooling above your hips — right where mihawk’s hands were. 

he bunches the fabric in his palms and slides it off of you, letting you maneuver yourself so he can take it all the way off.

absolutely mesmerized, his attention falls back onto you, hands reaching up to caress your breasts, pinching lightly at your nipples in a way that always leaves you squirming.

“your beauty is eternal, not even the gods could design someone as heavenly as you.” mihawk whispers, his voice soft as it delivers the love he held in his heart up to the one who keeps it safe. 

“mihawk..” you trail off, heat rushing to your cheeks. when the world slowed down enough for it, he’d shower you in lines that described only a fraction of the adoration he held for you. 

“yes?” the look on his face never wavers and a part of you wants to look away. instead, your fingers brush along his happy trail, feeling his lower abdomen concave at the sudden, welcome touch. 

“take these off.” you tug at his belt before starting to undo it, the metal clinking together as you thread it out of the loops of his pants.

he does as you say, taking off the rest of his clothes so you can properly straddle him now, his throbbing cock felt warm as it nestles against your folds, already soaking it with your essence. your hands roam along his chest, moving your hips along him ever so slightly to ensure he was properly coated.

“darling,” mihawk groans out, his fingers digging into the plushness of your thighs. “you know how i feel about teasing.”

flashbacks to the night you had many moons ago come to the forefront of your brain. teasing him to no end until his patience snapped, along with the ribbon you had tied his wrists with. once he started, he didn’t stop until the sun came up and the birds chirped in protest.

“sorry.” you breathe out, a small smile resting on your face, giggle tumbling from your love-bitten lips. “just making sure i’m ready to take you.”

“and when has that ever been a problem?” the glint in his eye is all too knowing. his palm runs down your thigh and in between your legs, a flood of arousal heats your core as his fingers prod your entrance, collecting as much as he can before swiping it into his mouth. “exquisite. you were made to take me, my love.”

with that, he leaves you no room for denial. your hand encloses around his hard length, thumbing along his tip as droplets of precum flow down from your touch alone.

he hisses in bliss, thrusting himself into your palm before you line him up to your entrance. slowly, you lower yourself on him, the sensation of him bullying his way through you has you squeezing your eyes shut — the pressure always overwhelming but tied so sweetly with pleasure your body doesn’t know how to react. but it knows to take him in anyway.

“you’re doing so well for me.” mihawks voice is strained, holding back his groans as he tries to ease you down onto him. but it’s futile, as soon as he finishes his sentence it melts into a groan that encourages you to push yourself all the way down.

gasping in unison, he bottoms out, filling you to the brim with his cock that makes its home in the depths that only he has ever carved out. 

“mm, mihawk.” you moan, rocking your hips back and forth, enjoying the friction of his coarse hair against your clit. “can feel you everywhere—“

“do you really?” feigning innocence, he presses his palm against your stomach. “here?”

“yes.” your head rolls back a bit, hips still moving slowly. mihawk thrusts up into you and you yelp, your gaze falling back down onto him.

“eyes on me.” his palm slides up, just over your heart where it beats for him, thumping against your ribcage as it longs to be free. “you feel me here?”

“everywhere.” you breathe out, covering his hand with yours as you start to move up and down along his cock. 

mihawks eyes flutter shut for a moment before his half lidded gaze falls onto you, hand falling from your chest and back to your hips. its subtle, but he guides you a bit, encouraging a consistent pace.

“doing so well for me.” he coos. the sight before him was truly striking; watching as you bloom into your own rhythm, pleasure etched into every feature of your face as you take what’s yours. “i must be the luckiest man in the world to have access to an angel like you.”

the praise seeps into your mind before spreading to every nerve in your body, lit aflame by the passion the man below you always effortlessly evokes. your hips never falter as you ride him, but the moment his hand slips between your thighs again causes you to jolt.

firmly, mihawk pushes his thumb against your clit, soaking up the cry of pleasure you let out for him. he plays with it for a bit, watching your body try to fight contortion, eager to keep the pace that was steadily bringing you to your high.

his fingers only elevate you, nudging you closer to the edge with a few precise motions. 

“‘m close,” you mewl, hands splaying along his chest as you go faster, chasing after the sensation you seek. “‘m really, really close.”

you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to but on some level you knew to tell him, subtly asking for permission as you aim to finish without him. the act of obedience touches mihawk, something he’ll have to reward you for later.

“go ahead, i want to see you let go for me.” mihawk lets out a low groan, surfacing deep from his chest as his abdomen starts to tighten as well. “i’ve got you, my love.”

euphoric, mind numbing, sensational. all the feelings that surround you as you release but couldn’t begin to express as your mind clears out any rational thought besides the man that coaxes you over the edge.

“beautiful.” he gasps out as you start to slump down, your climax taking more out of you than you anticipated. in a practiced motion, he rolls you under him, remaining buried at the hilt before he starts slowly thrusting into you. “just a little longer, okay?”

you nod, clinging onto him as his pace turns ruthless, chasing his high while hurtling you towards another one. the snap of his hips ricochet between the walls of the room, the sound of your cunt drowning out the small whimpers you let out.

“‘m gonna cum again.” you mewl, the back of your head hitting the plush pillow beneath you as your back arches up into him, bodies pressed together.

“cum with me.” mihawks voice is but a rasp as his lips kiss your ear, pulling back to cast another glance at your fucked out face, driving into you as if it was the last time.

with a cry of his name and a groan of yours, your body locks up in pleasure, trembling in his hold as he cums deep inside of you, shallowly thrusting to ensure it all stays where it belongs.

as soon as his hips still, he presses a kiss against your forehead. languidly, he pulls out of you, drawing out a whine from deep within. 

careful not to drop his weight onto you, he pushes down onto the mattress with his elbows, lightly kissing along the skin of your collarbone and up to your neck.

as you try to catch your breath, he tries to catch your eye. but stubbornly, you won’t give in.

“why aren’t you looking at me? don’t tell me you’ve gone shy.” he grasps your chin gently, bringing your attention back over to him.

those eyes. those piercing, molten gold eyes burn into yours and you can all but gasp. tiny suns replaced the soft irises, blinding you to everything except for him. to say you’re getting lost in them would be an understatement — you were sucked into his gaze, drowning in the light that he so readily provided.

“i’m not shy.” you squirm under his hold slightly, restlessness taking root in your body the more he carries on. 

“then what’s on your mind?” his fingers caress your cheek, letting you lean on him once again.

a pause.

“i’ll miss you.” you say softly, your voice a warm breeze that brushes against his face. 

“i’ll miss you too.” he sighs, dejected that he was ever tasked to leave you. mihawk rests his forehead against yours, maintaining eye contact as he soaks you in for the last time — at least for awhile. “i’ll return to you before you know it.”

“you better.” your hand snakes up and holds his face, thumb brushing along his bearded cheek before you lean in for another kiss. 

the last night between you both with uncertainty resting on the horizon, waiting for the sun to wake and steal away the only man you’ve ever loved.

but with every sunrise follows a sunset and like many times before, he will come back to you safe and sound. an insatiable beast that needs taming, your love bringing him back from the world of death and destruction and into the sanctuary you created together. an endless cycle that one day you hope he can be free from, but even so, you’d do it for him for eternity if you must.

thank you sm for reading ᰔ taglist : @kentophilia @oooohno @tetsuskei @littleleelee @moondust-lore @lixiawinter @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @gojipink @cloudpalaces @wrennyx ᰔ

[mangosrar]

call it closure

chris sturniolo x fem reader.

long asf. smut. filth. sexy chris 😛😛😛

your relationship with chris had always been complicated, a will they wont they sort of thing. you both loved eachother, that was obvious, yes you were his, but he wasnt yours.

you both decided friends with benefits would be the best option. well for him. part of you agreed just so you could play pretend, trick yourself into thinking you had him, and you knew nothing lasted forever, but he fooled you for a while.

everyone knew chris had major commitment issues, but you just didnt understand. he treated you like the only girl ever behind closed doors, but the second anyone else was around, he would drop your hand.

you thought this would be fine, you had him, you had him to yourself and that was all that mattered. until you realised you didnt. he had you eating out the palm of his hand on complete puppet strings. he said jump and you asked how high. you had fallen down a dangerous rabbit hole, and the only way to escape was to drive a knife straight through the heart of whatever it was you and chris had.

flashback.

the house was the quietest youve ever heard it. matt and nick were out so chris had invited you over to smoke with him but you were pretty sure he had over done it because he had gone completely none verbal and just started staring at the wall. he was slouched down on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table and his hands in his lap. you were too, slouched down on the couch with your knees up. he took a deep breath in before breaking the silence.

"do you think were soulmates in every universe?" he said. not moving his eyes from the spot on the wall. you could have cried right there and then, feeling a deep aching pain bloom in your chest from his words. you hated how he was so absentmindedly killing you.

there was an abundant pause and a thick tension gathered in the air, you wondered if chris could feel it too.

"are we even soulmates in this one?" your voice was so quiet and soft you weren’t sure he even heard you, until he let out a frustrated sigh before bringing a hand up to his face and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"come on y/n dont start this shit now" his voice was harsh. he kept his eyes closed waiting for you to drop it, like you did every time, but you werent sure how much longer you could carry on like this.

"what chris? im being serious, i dont even know what this is anymore, you treat me like im everything one minute and then act like you couldnt care less is i fucking live or die the next!" you let your feet fall and land on the floor as you sat up and turned to face him.

"you know thats not true" he took his hand off of his face and let it rest in the air. his eyes still closed.

"do i?" your voice was quiet and broken. this was draining. the heavy presence of the fact he wasnt truly yours was sucking the life out of you. he opened his eyes and looked at you.

"we both agreed to do this y/n you cant put all of this on me" he sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together and staring at you intensely.

there was a pregnant pause, he was waiting for you to defend yourself, or at least try to argue his point, but you couldnt, he was right, to a certain degree. yes you had both agreed to friends with benefits but you hadnt agreed to being hopelessly in love with someone who only reciprocated those feelings in the dark.

you dropped yours eyes, tearing them away from his and letting them linger on his hands before taking a deep breath in.

"i cant carry on like this, its killing me." he tried to cut you off momentarily but you held a hand up, stopping him. "i wont beg for you to love me anymore chris, because i know that somewhere deep down you really do". he said nothing as he stared at you. he was completely speechless. he felt that pain, just like you did, deep in his bones. you searched his eyes for something, anything, a sign that you were lying and just embarrassing yourself, a sign that told you he wasnt at all affected by this, any sense of doubt. you found nothing.

and with that, you left. you got up and walked out of that house, leaving chris to sit there and regret every singe life decision that had got him to this point, but he didnt come after you, he didnt try to stop you, he didnt try to change your mind and thats what stung the most.

end of flashback.

"im going to pack the car so everyone bring your bags down!" chris shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

you pulled the zipper closed on the bag before taking your phone off the bed and making your way downstairs, nick following close behind you. you didnt even look up at chris. you couldnt, you wanted to take complete advantage of the short amount of time you had left to distance yourself from him as much as possible.

it had been about 3 months since you walked out on chris, you hadnt spoke at all, he hadnt tried and neither had you, both of you just accepting fate and trying to move on, but considering the fact his two brothers were your best friends and you practically lived at their house with how much you were over, it was proving to be quite the challenge.

you just politely dropped your bag at his feet and scurried off into the kitchen, bumping into matt.

"you want me to drive the first or second half?" you asked. considering you were the only two that could drive, you insisted you would split it.

"i dont mind but, you sure you wanna have to sit next to chris for that long?" he lowered his voice slightly, his eyes darting to chris who was grabbing all the bags behind you, as his face scrunched up slightly. you glanced over your shoulder at him briefly before crossing your arms over your chest and shrugging.

"its okay, he wont talk to me anyways" you let out a pathetic laugh through your nose, trying to make the situation a little light hearted and a lot less embarrassing. matt obviously picked up on this but was kind enough to ignore it.

"ill do the first half, he will probably fall asleep by the time we swap anyway" he patted your shoulder and you nodded as he made a bee line for the front door.

matt and nick were probably the worst part of this whole situation. they were stuck smack bang in the middle of this pandemonium. of course they both knew what had happened but they gave you the courtesy of separating you and chris with you and them and decided to move past it. you and chris were both aware of how awkward it was for them, and thankfully, he was mature enough to not kick up a big fuss every time you were around. you hadnt spoken at all since that night, only the odd flash of a smile sent each others way when you crossed paths and that was rare, so when nick invited you on their weekend get away to a cabin in the middle of no where with them, you were obviously delighted.

the drive was excruciating. if it wasnt matt and nick arguing it was chriss shitty trap music playing or the gps redirecting you. while you were driving up front chris hadnt even spared you a glance, he didnt utter a single word to you the whole time.

part of you was grateful but another part of you wished he would have, selfishly, so you could just get over it and enjoy your weekend, but nothing was enjoyable anymore as long as chris was around.

"i call the double bed" chris yelled, running through the house.

"y/n theres a room with two singles, wanna bunk with me?" nick asked, slipping his backpack off of his shoulders.

"sure" you nodded, before making your way to the room, setting your bag down and plopping on the bed with a huff, matt trailed in behind you, with your suitcase.

"come on grouchy pants, were gonna have funnnn" he said swatting your leg that was dangling off the edge of the bed.

"i need at least 3-5 business days to recover from being within a 1 mile radius of chris for longer than 30 seconds" you let out a breath as you looked over to matt who was leaning on the door frame with his arms folded over his chest.

"that bad?" he raised his eyebrows in question.

"that bad" you replied flatley. matt just chuckled and motioned for you to follow him downstairs. you huffed and sat up before stomping down the hall after him.

in all fairness, it hadnt been that bad. the 4 of you had eaten, laughed played games and just had fun, regardless of the hanging tension wedged between you and chris. it was now 11:30 and everyone was asleep, but your mind just couldnt switch off, tossing and turning, checking the clock every 5 minutes. you huffed and looked over at nick who was out like a light. hot tub it is.

"i dont know madi, it just hurts" you spoke.

"has he even tried to talk to you?" she spoke over the phone.

"not one single word, and the thing is i dont know if i wanna strangle him or just kiss his fucking face off" you huffed, readjusting your arms so they were resting on the edge of the hot tub with your phone in your hands, the rest of your body being engulfed by the warm blanket of water.

"im worried my advice is gonna get you in trouble" she laughed, making you blow out a huff of air through your nose.

"it doesnt matter, i cant bring myself to do either" you and madi spoke for a little while longer beofre you wrapped the call up, put your phone on the ground and let your body sink lower into the steaming water until it was resting on your collar bones.

you sighed and let your head fall back, this is what you needed, a relaxing moment, the quiet calm of the night lulling your brain into a state of tranquillity, no matt and nick arguing, no chr-

"cant sleep?" you almost had a heart attack, your body jolted forward as your eyes darted around searching for the body that owned the voice.

"jesus, chris you scared the life out of me, how long have you been sitting there?" your hand rested on your chest, feeling the rapid beat of your heart from being startled. he just stared at you with drooped eyes from his position on the patio chair, opposite the hot tub.

"long enough" he said. his face didnt show any sign of emotion. his stoic expression sending an un willing chill up your spine, despite the warmth of the chlorine filled bubbles around you. chris leaned forward and you swallowed thickly.

"did you mean what you said?" his voice was alot softer and quieter than before, like he was worried you would break at the slight tone of his voice. you couldnt bring your self to look back up at him, he would eat you alive. you paused momentarily, weighing out your options of whether you even wanted to entertain this conversation with him or just cut him dead.

there was no way in hell that you were letting yourself fall back down this slippery slope again, so just like before, you abruptly got up and out of the hot tub, reached for your towel and made your way back inside, without sparing him a glance, keeping your eyes trained to the floor, leaving chris once again, to watch you walk away from him, and all the same, he didnt try to stop you.

"nick open the fucking door!" you whispered loudly. no reply.

resting your forehead against the door, you mentally cursed yourself for even going in the hot tub. you should have stayed in bed and this whole situation would be avoided, chris too. speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"what are you doing?" he stood just beside you with a questioning look on his face.

you huffed, pulling your head back and looking up at him.

"nick locked the door" you sounded so defeated it made his heart beat a little harder in his chest.

"you can come sleep with me, ill take the floor i dont mind" he motioned his head towards his designated bedroom while keeping his eyes trained to yours.

you dropped your head and sighed. how was this happening. you had spent months walking on egg shells, doing everything in your power to stay as far away from him as you could, and now you were forcing him out of his bed so you could sleep there.

he stared at you waiting for your answer. he knew you had no other option, you couldnt sleep on the couch with matt and you were also stood in a wet bikini and a wet towel. be realistic y/n.

"sure, okay" you looked up at him, and his eyes gained a fraction of hope momentarily, before he nodded and started leading you to his room. this was going to be a long night.

"um, i dont.." you paused and cleared your throat. "i dont have anything to wear" chris looked up at you from his position on the bed before his eyes trailed over your body, stood in a towel in the bathroom doorway shifting on your feet, looking like a nervous little girl.

you cleared your throat again, snapping chris out of whatever trance he had gotten into. he stood up and walked over to the dresser at the end of the bed, pulling out one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers, before padding over to you and handing them over.

"thanks" you smiled.

"no problem" he replied, watching you turn back into the bathroom, slamming the door in his face and leaning against it, you werent sure if this was going to work, your left control was wearing thin.

how had it ended up like this? you tried so hard to have some composure but you couldnt help it, he was shirtless, clad in grey sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips, basically inviting you to jump straight on him.

his lips trailed down your neck as his hands ran up your sides, relishing in the feeling of your skin against his after 3 months of complete torture without it.

he brought his lips back up to meet your in a hot and heavy kiss, tongues dancing together, teeth clashing, the works. frantic hands gripping his hair relentlessly, pulling groans from his mouth.

chris brought his hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and separating the kiss, before diving back in and sucking purple marks into your neck and collarbones, earning breathy whines from you.

there was a moment of hesitation from you as he trailed his hands lower fiddling with the waistband of his boxers that you were wearing.

"chris wait" he halted his movements and brought his face up to yours. god he was making this so hard. he was breathing heavy and his hair was messy from your curious hands, his chain dangling between the two of you.

"we shouldnt be doing this" you shook your head, eyes wide.

"why y/n?" he asked breathlessly.

"because chris" you whined. he knew exactly why. all your hard work of keeping your distance from him had just been thrown into a sweltering ball of gasoline and chris had completely set it alight.

"call it closure" he whispered. he could see the inner turmoil you were facing. you knew you were about to give in, and judging by the smirk growing on his face, so did he.

you pulled his face down to yours again and he hummed into the kiss, the feeling of your lips on his being something no drug could ever amount to.

he continues his trail down your body, leaving wet hot kisses in his trail, keeping his eyes glued to yours. he was dragging this out, savouring the blaze of your touch.

"chris please" you whined.

"what baby? tell me what you want" he spoke in-between leaving kisses on your stomach and thighs.

"just fuck me" that was all he needed to hear before he was yanking your shorts down and doing the same with his own pants and boxers. he was on his knees between your legs, pumping his cock in his hand, eyes wondering over your frame hungrily.

"so pretty" he muttered before brining his lips to yours again and pushing his cock into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size before he was pulling all the way out and slamming back in over and over again. you were already a mess underneath him, mewling and moaning like you would never get the chance again.

"missed you so much baby, so fucking much" chris grunted in-between thrusts before peppering light kisses down the side of your face and neck. you just whined at his words.

his pace was relentless and your hands flew to his back, dragging your nails down his skin, pulling a low "fuck" from chriss lips.

"so good to me y/n, cant believe i ever fucking let you go" he said as he stilled his thrusts and pulled back, sitting on his knees and lifting your legs up to rest on his shoulders, and continuing his thrusts.

you let out a lewd moan at the new angle, hands gripping the bed sheets as chris arms wrapped around your thighs, drilling his cock into you so deep, hitting that spot inside that made you see stars.

"oh fuck chris dont stop" you mewled, letting your head fall back.

his pace became impossibly faster, every single thrust knocking the air out of your lungs.

you were pulsating around him, your high getting closer and closer. chris dropped your legs and doubled over, shoving his head into the crook of your neck with a deep groan.

"fuck y/n i can feel you squeezing me" his words were strangled and breathless. he brought his lips to yours once again but the pleasure was so good and you were so close you couldnt keep up with him, chris noticed this and smirked against your mouth.

"come on sweet girl, give it to me, come all over my cock" he said as he brought his thumb down to rub hard, fast circles over your puffy clit making your back arch even further off the bed.

you let out a strangled moan of his name before being launched into a pool of complete, white ecstasy, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. his thrusts did not falter as he sat up watching you ride out your orgasm with hooded eyes.

“you look so pretty like this ma”

he wasnt far behind, his hips stuttered before he let out a loud whine, followed by a hiss and a string of curses, painting your insides white, sending a few more thrusts, filling you to the brim, before collapsing on top of you.

the two of you were sweating and panting, both completely silent, just relishing in the feeling of the post sex haze. your hands come up to his hair and you ran your fingers through it soothingly.

he planted a soft kiss to your collarbone before bringing his face up so he was eye level with you. his eyes trailed over your face, creating a memory and he took a deep breath in before speaking.

"i do love you”.

_______________________________________________

YALL😛😛😛😛

sorry for starving you guys i’ve just been mad busy but i’m back !!!! love u. bee ❤️‍🩹

taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @chrisenthusiast @urmyslxt @soursturniolo @kitaysworld @kvtie444 @mattslolita @flowerxbunnie @lovingsturniolo @its-jennarose @ermdontmindthisaccount @secret-sturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @justaslvttygirl @urfavstromboli @chrisfavoritepepsi @kenleighsbl0g @udonotknowme

[yestrday]

: ̗̀➛  DRUNK ON ECSTASY ! ft. yan! venti, kaeya, diluc, albedo

In a last-ditch effort to subdue your fiery spirit and finally claim you as his, your dear yandere mixes a little something with your food. different emotions arise, but one thing is clear— you’re soooo much cuter when you’re pawing at his sleeves and crying for him.

+ whew finally got this one out of the drafts!! did this instead of the reflection paper lololol

( yandere behavior, drúgging, aphrodisíacs )

venti does it in a last-effort ditch to break down your walls. don’t blame him, okay! he’s been trying sooo hard these past few months to even put a dent in that thick wall you’ve put up between the two of you. he’s confident in his looks and his charm, and has been exploiting the utmost out of them just to seduce you! but you’re sooo hard-headed, and he’s growing really desperate!

he adores your modesty, really! but the shy and reserved smile you put on when he makes a move on you pains him both physically and mentally. he wants to see all of you, the good ones and the bad ones, and he wants to assure you that he’ll love you no matter what! he wants to see you needy and desperate just like he is, but it looks like you’re trying to control yourself. but no worry though, because venti will make it his mission to set you free of such bothersome restraints.

and well~ ♡ venti giggles as he swirls the pink liquid around its heart-shaped vial, brazenly playing with it with your back to your wine. he knows juuust the thing to get you to open up. don’t worry, don’t worry ♡ venti can’t seem to repress the wide grin as he drops just a teensy bit of the potion. this is what friends do, don’t they? help each other out?

and he’s helping you out alright. not like he has much of a choice when you cling and grasp at him so needily. he’s laughing all the time, even when you’re begging for some sort of release. his laughter, bordering on maniacal and full of lust, is muffled by the blood rushing to your head. he loves it— those desperate eyes, the whiny pleas… you’re everything he’s dreamed of and more. isn’t this wayyy better? to be true to yourself instead of hiding what you’re really like?

“venti venti ventiventiventi pleaseee~!” your whines sound absolutely delightful to his ears, and even more so when he watches you cling to him with hearts in your eyes. your hair’s a mess, your cheeks are bright red, and you smile at him like you’re drunk on the attention he’s giving you. “hmm, i don’t know…” venti feigns hesitance, even though he’s kicking his legs in delight. “it’s getting late now… don’t you need to go home at this time already?” you shake your head fervently, clutching even tighter onto him. you stare up at him so desperately and pleadingly that it’s hard to connect you to the straight-laced person you were before. “i– i don’t need to! i’ll stay here for you, venti! just pleasepleaseplease!” you nigh sob, embracing his side as try to indulge in every warmth and touch his body can offer. “please touch me already!” the giggle he lets out is almost maniacal, one that would scare you if you weren’t high on aphrodisiac. he takes a large swig from the wine bottle (more pink than the usual red) and brings your face closer to his. your breaths intermingle, smelling of sweet wine and laced with lust, as venti takes in the prize he’s been coveting for so long. “you’re so precious, my darling,” he whispers, and when he swoops in to kiss you, tongue wrapped around yours, you swear you’ve never been more contented in your entire life.

kaeya believes that he’s not the sort of person to resort to such… disgusting tactics. he tells himself that he can win you over by his charm and hard efforts alone, but the way you smile politely at him or when you take every opportunity to avoid him… it only digs deeper into his insecurities. every witty remark he has is met with an awkward laugh, every time he tries to close the distance, you shy away. it hurts him more than he wants it to. he knows he should be giving up but when he stares at the vial of aphrodisiac he’d unthinkingly buy, he knows he’s far too gone to give up.

he tries to forget about it, tries his best not to think about what horrible thoughts he’s been having of you. but every time you show him even the slightest affection, a genuine smile here or a comforting touch there, he starts caving. how happy he would be if you showed that to him every day! he’d return every affection you gave tenfold, you’d never be starved of it. he wants you so, so bad it’s maddening, and every night he sleeps in his bed alone, his mind becomes a little bit crazier.

but tonight, you were with another. he knows he’s just a friend, that you see them nothing more than a brother, but that’s not how the other party looks at you. yet you lean into their touch so willingly, laugh with them without any restraints, and smile at them so blindingly it stuns kaeya even from across the room. he grasps tightly the bulge in his pocket, heart-shaped and taunting, and bites his lip.

he wants you so, so badly. so when you approach him with your wine glass lifted, greeting him with a drunken smile, he tries to pretend that he is the subject of your affection. tonight, it can be all pretend, but when he refills your cup and watches the pink wisps drown in the red wine, he tells himself that it’ll all be real after this.

“i’ve got you, i’ve got you.” kaeya acts like he’s not the one who made you like this, swaying tipsily from the wine and the drug and clinging onto him for support. well, maybe more than support, because of the way you nuzzle into his side and breathe a sigh of relief, kaeya thinks that maybe you’re longing for something more. “hehe, have i ever told you how handsome you are, mister kaeya~?” you ask him, smiling wobbly up at him as you gaze into his one eye. he gasps in shock when he realizes that your noses are barely touching, and he leans away quickly to save his rapidly beating heart. he wasn’t like this with others, he swears, but something about you makes him so vulnerable and flustered that he doesn’t know what to do. your rented room is barely lit, the candlelights on the side of the wall somehow adding a sensual atmosphere as he guides you to your bed. the feeling of your skin against his is like fire to ice, and the little whimpers you give as the heat tortures you from within sets his head spinning. he can barely handle it, and with the way you’ve been eyeing him… surely it wouldn’t hurt to hope for more. he tries to set you on the bed, but you’re quick to push him down first and straddle him with a triumphant grin. he knows he’s the suspect behind your behavior, yet you’re the one pinning him down and he’s the one blushing and gasping like he’s been caught in your trap. “kaaaeeeyyaaaaa~ ♡” you drawl, nipping lovebites and staring at him with heart eyes and a flirty pout. “keep me company for the night?” his breath hitches in his throat as he takes in your draping clothes and feels the warmth of your body on top of him. mustering up enough bravado, he summons his confident grin to his smile as he wraps his arms around your neck. his heart is beating in his chest, and his eagerness drowns out whatever guilt he may have felt. “anything for you, love.”

when desperate, diluc might not make the most rational of decisions. he had bought the love potion off the black market in a fit of mania after you had once again run off and hurt yourself. his illogical logic reasoned that if you weren’t willing to be under his care, safe, and protected, he might as well force you to want it.

the morning after, diluc’s face contorted with disgust as he looked into the reflection of a man willing to force the person he’d been pining for into something they didn’t want. he locked the crystal bottle under lock and key, swearing that not once would he ever use it. he loved you too much, and admittedly too prideful to resort to such cheap tactics. he needed you to love him of your own volition.

but tonight was another one of those nights, news of another dangerous stunt of yours in dragonspine reaching his ears. you were driving him insane. what archon would care if he kept you under his protection, shackling you to his side even if it meant depriving you of your freedom to explore the world as you wished? hell, he might even get rewarded for it, because you were going to kill yourself at this rate!

there must have been a reason why he didn’t throw away that potion like he had ought to do, a malicious subconscious telling him that he would need it in the future. and it was right, the side of diluc that he had despised so much was right. as he swirls the ominous glowing pink in its bottle, he watches it drop into your wine with a face devoid of any emotion– too sick with love and paranoia to even feel anything for the crime that he was about to do.

the way you’re shivering and reaching for his touch is making him go crazy. he had never expected the potion to be this strong (though he did drop a few too much just to ensure the… effectiveness), so he received your weak embrace with both surprise and a dark delight. your current image was one he thought he despised— babbling incoherently, swaying tipsily, airy giggles, just like the drunks he tended to— but on you, it was nothing short of endearing. especially with the way you whimper at his every caress, shaking in flush pleasure as you lean in for more. you’re pliant on his bed with hazy eyes anticipating his every move, and he gently lifts parts of your clothes to observe the collection of scars you’ve collected. “d– diluc…” you whimper, weakly grabbing at his wrist as he traces another once more. you’re so… small, hands barely wrapping around the width of his wrist. “wha… what are you doing…?” “observing my mistakes,” he replies, pressing a chaste kiss on your temple that has you whining. he sees this with dark eyes but refuses to let go of the leash he’s put upon himself. “all these scars that litter you’re body, it was my mistake for even letting you go out there when you can’t even take care of yourself.” he thumbs another scar and you bite your lip. “now you won’t have to worry anymore. i’ll be the one taking care of you.” “take care of me…?” you’re silent for a few seconds as if the reality of the situation has finally dawned on you. diluc sits in silence too, waiting for you to start screaming and kicking and demanding before a wobbly grin spreads on your face. “take care of me? ♡ then…” wrapping your legs around his neck, you pull him in closer till his chin rests on your tummy, and you smile so lovingly at him that he could almost fool himself. “then take care of me lo~ots tonight, ‘kay? ♡”

albedo doesn’t even bother reserving a love potion for a last resort. he might be a patient man with most things, but he sometimes likes to indulge in his sadistic desires. and there’s no other person than you who seems to rile up those desires more than ever. to have you shivering and weak on his table, moaning weakly as you beg with a bright flush on your cheeks… albedo could not have made the potion any faster.

he’s always been… scientific? when it came to matters of the heart. he’s not the type to chalk the unexplainable thumping of his chest to a mere clash of chemical reactions in his brain. rather, he looks for the fastest and most efficient way to get him results. he could try and be content watching you from afar, dressed in your cute waitress getup as you tended to customers, but archons knew how much he was itching to have his hands on you.

every time you smiled at him from across the street, bounding from good hunter to the little alchemy stall with food that albedo had ordered with ill intentions… it festered something dark within him. albedo’s no idiot, he’s fully aware of what dangerous ideas his mind has been cooking up this entire time. you chat with him with wide and trusting eyes, unaware of how his gaze lingers on your lips and how he purposely brushes your hair back to let his touch linger. 

it drives him insane how naive you are, but it is an alchemist’s duty to break down things and build them up again to truly understand the way they are. and albedo is nothing but curious about you.

albedo is delighted at how much the potion seems to have an effect on you. you could barely think, head empty except for the constant need of albedo’s touch, and you beg for it so~o prettily too. he tucks a messy strand behind your ear, just as he always did, but instead of warm smiles and thank yous he’s met with whines and hazy eyes. “‘bedo, ‘bedo, pleeasseee~” you sob into his palm, hugging his arm in an attempt to keep more of his warmth to yourself. “wh- what’s going onnn? i’m sca-ared…” he shushes you, soft caresses tickling your neck as he presses a kiss on your temple. it’s exhilarating how much you shuddered from a mere peck and wondered that should he have made the effects stronger, it certainly would have sent you right over the edge. “sh sh shhh, it’s okay, darling. you’re fine. your body’s just reacting… accepting… let me indulge in this moment for a little bit longer, ‘kay? then i’ll relieve you of your pain.” you don’t process any of his words, just looking up at him with fearful yet trusting eyes. he chuckles when he sees this stupidly cute expression on you and helps himself to nip on your earlobe. “ngh, nha ♡ n- no! not the ear…! ‘bedo, ‘s too sensitive!” your toes curl at the onslaught of pleasure, and you can’t help but kick your legs as you’re overwhelmed. “y- you can’t…!” “oh dear,” he chuckles, pulling away from your lobe and watching as you lay on his lap, panting and twitching at the sensation of it all. “it’s just the ear, darling. surely, you can’t be that sensitive yet?” he eyes the cup of tea that he had brewed, suspiciously tinged with pink. “you haven’t finished your cup yet, you know.” “c… cup?” you slur, tongue feeling leaden. through half-lidded eyes, you can barely make out the sly smile on albedo’s lips. “wh… whaddya mean…?” huffing a fond laugh, albedo shakes his head and reaches out for the teacup, before tilting it into his mouth. his lips descend on yours, tongue swiping at your lips to be permitted entry. you part them, and the distinct taste of tea enters your mouth as he kisses you even deeper. “that’s what i mean,” he smiles, pulling away with naught but a string of saliva attached. now his cheeks glow pink, as he watches you with lustful eyes as pleasure and unbearable heat shake your body once again. “it’s time to fall even deeper, my love.”

[adragonprinceswhore]

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)Wife

Chapter VIII: Rumours 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Three months after your show in Oldtown, things seem different. How will you and Aemond navigate this new normality?

Warnings: 18+, self-destructive thoughts, mentions of rehab, therapy and anger management, allusions to smut

Word count: 4500

A/N: What a journey! Thank you so much to everyone that has followed this story, both for the first and second time.

Three months later. 

The tour went on for over two months, finishing with a sold-out show back home in King’s Landing. Thanks to management bringing in some highly skilled people to work on finalising the songs on Rumours, the event doubled as the release day of your second album. 

You sold twice as many records in the first three days as your first album did since its release last year.

Though you’re certain that some of the attention your album’s received is due to the dramatic end of your marriage to Aemond, you’re convinced that fans wouldn’t be buying it if they didn’t enjoy the music. The reviews from major music outlets were raving about the emotional depth throughout the album, another indicator that gossip wasn’t the only selling point of your heartbreaking labour. 

Now, with the holidays closing in, your label has asked you to create some type of extra material to put on a limited edition version of Rumours. 

The members of Dragon Dreamers agreed that adding a bonus track would be the best feature, and decided to meet in the studio to record it in one go; a straight-forward and quick procedure fitting your time restraint. 

You’ve been playing around with a few ideas for new songs, but nothing substantial that feels ready just yet. Lucky for you, Helaena posted in your group chat that she’s been working on a song you could use. 

You’d listened to the demo she shared and the song truly has great potential, being somewhat fast-paced with Helaenas dreamy vocals adding that mellow feel to it only she seems capable of. 

Reaching the studio, you step out of the taxi and thank the driver over your shoulder, pulling the thick, wool fabric of your coat tighter around your trembling body. 

It’s only the last week of November, but winter seems to have come early this year. You hurry to get into the building where the studio is, shaking fingers fidgeting with the key in your cold, inflexible hand, too stiff to obey you and get the thin piece of brass into the keyhole. 

“Allow me”, echoes a voice behind you, and the corners of your lips pull up at the familiar, gentle tone. 

“It’s fucking freezing”, you say light-heartedly and move away from the lock to make space for Aemond, who steps forward, key already in hand.

He unlocks the door swiftly, giving you a pointed look while pushing the heavy door open with one hand. It’s his idea of banter; meeting your eyes with that cheeky glint dancing in his eyes, amusement hiding in his lips where the faintest promise of a smile forms. 

“Thank you” 

You walk past him into the hallway leading to the studio and he follows behind you, mumbling a quiet, 

“Anytime”

After the show in Oldtown, your and Aemond’s relationship has improved immensely. Agreeing that whatever happens, the band comes first, proves to be a good way for the both of you to stay on track. 

Being on the road and performing several times a week is draining, stressful, and overall rough. But in the strain, it’s provided you with some peace of mind, forced to put all your focus on work instead of dwelling on the past.

On everything that’s happened between the two of you.

Besides, Aemond’s put in effort to be civil as well, even bordering on being friendly at times, asking you if you’d like anything from the coffee shop before he went to grab an espresso. A clear sign of trying that you appreciate, no matter how small. 

Besides, it’s not like he even needs to ask. He knows perfectly well what you like. 

But this feels better; feigning ignorance. 

Not still acting like a married couple. 

Perhaps his change was not entirely due to what occurred in Oldtown. Helaena had let it slip one day over lunch that he’d started seeing a therapist, while also attending an anger management program online. 

You’re happy for him, truly. 

It shows on his demeanour that he’s doing better; that he knows how to handle situations better. He seems more in tune with his inner self as well, more in control of it. You’re glad to see him improving, and yet there’s a small part of you that still mourns the broken bond between the two of you. 

That part feels resentful, annoyed with the fact that he couldn’t have done this before your divorce. 

Then you might still be together. 

Helaena’s singing voice grows louder as you move closer to the door of the studio, pushing it open with your stiff, cold hands. 

Jace and Erryk are already seated, listening intently to Helaena’s instructions as she explains how they’re going to record the song. You and Aemond slip in, eyes trained on her, and she offers you a nod in greeting, continuing to discuss her vision of the song,

“The build up has to be captivating! It speeds up towards the outro at the end, which is like the highlight of the song”, she says, hands coming up to put emphasis on her words, 

“That’s what you’d envisioned, right Aemond?”

Her head turns to meet the gaze of her younger brother, waiting for a sign of agreement. He only hums in reply and nods at her, prompting her to continue. 

Has Aemond written this song?

You think back to the demo Helaena sent of her singing and playing piano. 

Isn’t this a love song?

“Finally wrote a song for your girlfriend then?”, Erryk teases as he lowers himself to take a seat behind the drum set. 

A wave of nausea crashes over you without warning. You feel your heart race in your chest, like it’s fighting to get out, and a sickening panic spreads within you. Your hands, that’d just felt so cold and stiff, now feel clammy and tingling with unease. 

You knew this day would come. 

The day Aemond writes a song for Alys. 

You’d mentally prepared for it; convinced yourself that whenever this day came, you’d be okay. It wouldn’t hurt that much, you already know that he’s moved on. 

But Erryk’s question leaves you disoriented, almost dizzy, and you hear the furious beat of your heart in your ears.

Now you have to live with your decision to leave him all those months ago. Allow him to move on and watch him from the sidelines as his colleague. 

Sing along to the declaration of love he’s written for his new lover? 

“Hel and I have been working on this song since last spring”, he dismissively replies, throwing Erryk a look that feels cold, yet his tone stays neutral. 

Since last spring? 

You still feel the heavy weight of anxiety on your chest, but with a few deep breaths, you manage to pull yourself together. 

Just get through this afternoon, then you can go home and dwell in self-pity without spectators. 

The band starts to play, Helaena singing as her fingers dance over the keys of the piano, 

‘Sweet, wonderful you’

‘You make me happy with the things you do’

‘Oh, can it be so?’

‘This feeling follows me wherever I go’

Aside from the demo Helaena sent you a few days ago, you’ve never heard this song before. If Aemond’s been working on it since last spring, does that mean he’s kept it a secret from you?

Maybe he played a rough edit to you before your separation? 

Maybe he and Helaena had reworked it beyond recognition? 

‘I never did believe in miracles’

‘But I’ve a feeling it’s time to try’

‘I never did believe in the ways of magic’

‘But I’m beginning to wonder why’

He’s not usually the type to write love songs. His solo song on your first album, titled ‘I’m so Afraid’, can be described as anything but romantic. 

‘Don’t break the spell’

‘It would be different and you know it will’

But this? Is it the love he receives from Alys that has prompted him to write such an exposing song; causing him to believe in miracles and magic? 

Does she make him feel safe? 

Safer than before? 

‘You make loving fun’

‘And I don’t have to tell you but you’re the only one’

You try to keep your voice stable as you sing along, backing up Helaena’s delicate tone. 

It hurts, hearing how much he doesn’t miss you; how happy he is with her. 

The one that makes loving fun. 

When you were married, all you seemed capable of was making him miserable. 

Loving you wasn’t fun. 

‘You make loving fun’

‘It’s all I wanna do’

‘You make loving fun’

‘It’s all I wanna do’

Some hours go by.

You record a few different versions of the song; playing around with various sounds. 

Every time you sing the words, they stab your heart like a knife, 

‘You make loving fun’

You try to act normal. You try so hard that you can taste copper on your tongue. Thankfully, no one seems to see through your facade. 

Just breathe. 

In. Hold three seconds. Out. Hold three seconds. 

You know that it won’t hurt this much forever. 

One day, you’ll wake up and your lungs won’t ache when you inhale deeply. Your eyes won’t burn from the force in which you're trying to prevent tears from falling. 

Time heals all wounds. 

But yours are still fresh. Leaking and aching. 

All you want to do is go home, throw yourself in bed and cry. 

You crave release, whether it comes from sorrow-induced dehydration, calling Alysanne just to yell out your frustrations, or screaming into a pillow.

When Helaena finally wraps up the recording session, asking you to come back tomorrow after she’s listened through a few of the takes, you hastily grab your bag and move towards the door. 

Just need to get out. 

Away. 

You call out a rushed farewell over your shoulder as you make your way down the corridor of the building, hand coming up to the door handle to step out into the cold November night. 

You brace yourself, ready for the chill air to hit your cheeks as you pull the door open. But before you’re able to leave, a large hand gently grabs your shoulder, keeping you in place, 

“Wait”

Aemond’s voice is low behind you. 

You inhale a deep, shaky breath before you turn around to face him. 

“Yes, Aemond?”

Your voice is purposefully flat, and you’re doing your absolute best to not let the hurt you feel reflect on your tone. 

“I wanted to talk to you”, he begins, tongue coming out to lick his lips. He’s apprehensive in a way that makes his voice sound foreign, like he’s not himself. 

“Did you like it? The song?”

Your gaze flickers down at his question, a reflex-like response so you don’t roll your eyes at him. He sure makes it difficult to be the bigger person. 

Set on tormenting you. 

“Yes”

You bite out the reply, laced with innate irritation you can’t conceal. 

Yes, it’s a good song, you can’t deny that. But seeking you out to have you admit that the song he wrote for his new partner is good Is a new low. 

And to think you thought he’d finally changed for the better. 

Aemond’s good eye roams your face, seemingly searching for something. An answer hidden in your features. 

He licks his lips again, as if he’s looking for what to say, 

“You do, you know”

His eye still flickering around without meeting yours, and his restless demeanour makes you nervous too. 

“I do what?”, you ask, irritation now clear in your curt tone. 

“Make loving fun”, he answers. 

The shock of his sudden confession renders you speechless, and Aemond takes the opportunity to pull you out of the building and into the dark night. 

The heavy door to the studio closes with a loud thud, and left are you and Aemond, alone in the freezing, dark November night. 

“I wanted to surprise you with the song on our wedding anniversary in June, but obviously..”, his voice dies out. 

Still lost for words, you’re sure you look ridiculous, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

Aemond carefully takes in your reaction and takes a deep breath himself, 

“I’ve thought about our relationship recently. A lot”, he says, eyes flickering down to your trembling hands.

Are they shaking from the cold? 

He takes your hands in his warm grip, encapsulating their entirety, 

“I didn’t treat you right-”

“I, I just-, I loved you so fucking much, I-, I didn’t know how to handle loving you so fiercely. I still do”

He has that sad look in his eye that you’ve grown familiar with; the sorrow that he’s made a habit of keeping from you. 

Now, it’s on full display as he offers you himself again, 

“Please take me back”, he quietly begs, body moving forward, face coming down so he can rest his cheek on your head, hands still holding yours tightly. 

You feel lost for words, stiffly staying in place as you hear Aemond inhale deeply through his nose buried in your hair. 

“Aemond”, you sigh, tone thick and unsteady, 

“I thought we’d agreed to move forward as bandmates”

“I’ve missed you so much”, he mumbles in reply, unmoving as he rests his head on yours. 

“You’re with Alys now”, you breathe out, disbelief making it hard for you to sort out your thoughts.

“I haven’t seen her since Winterfell”, he replies.

“Aem-”, you try to oppose but he cuts you off,

“I’m sorry for ruining everything. I’m sorry for taking my anger out on you. I’m sorry for being selfish”, he confesses quietly, whispering his sins into your hair. 

Aemond moves to let go of your hands, and instead brings his arms around your shoulders to hug you. 

His voice is still low, mouth right next to your ear, 

“I took your love for granted. I couldn’t imagine a world where we weren’t together”, he admits and presses your body against his, 

“And now I regret how I treated you every day. I know my actions are inexcusable, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need-”, his voice breaks, 

“I need you”

Being in his embrace, so full of the love you’ve been missing for months, causes your lids to feel heavy, and you close your eyes and rest your cheek against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. 

He still smells the same. 

The most comforting, warming scent in the world. 

It would be so easy to take him back.

It is so tempting. 

You gently pull away to look up at him, eyes locking with his, 

“Aemond, you know you weren’t happy being with me” 

“I’m going to therapy, I’m trying to be better”, he says quietly. His eyes are glassy when he adds, 

“For you”

You swallow the lump lodged in your throat. 

“That’s great, Aemond, and I’m so proud of you”, 

“But I don’t think getting back together would be good for either of us”, you conclude, gaze carefully gauging his expression, anxiously awaiting his reaction. 

The inevitable fire. 

His eyes narrow, face setting in harsh displeasure. 

You notice the corners of his mouth twitch downwards as he stares at you in silence, nostrils flaring with each breath. 

His warmth disappears as he steps away from you. 

He quickly shifts to the side to avoid your eyes, and leaves without another word.

You do all three things when you get home. 

You cry, you scream into a pillow, and you call Alysanne to yell out your frustrations. 

Nothing helps.

Why did he have to do this now? 

Why couldn’t he have done this when you were still together? 

The wound of your marriage opens up again, sending icy waves of pain through your body. 

This was supposed to be the part when things got better; when time had healed the wounds.

And yet, you’re still hurting just as much. 

A gash that refuses to stop bleeding. 

In the depths of your despair, you see your phone light up with a notification through the veil of tears obstructing your vision. 

You bring one of your hands up to half-heartedly wipe away the tears that spill out as the other grabs the phone to see who’s texted. 

Aemond: “I’m sorry for earlier tonight. If you want to remain friends, I would appreciate that”

For the second time tonight, his unpredictability astonishes you. 

Where’s the anger? 

You’re unmoving, hand holding your phone in a cramp-like grip as it lights up again. 

Aemond: “It’ll be entirely on your conditions”

You inhale, closing your eyes as you ponder your reply. 

Exhaling slowly, you open your eyes again to type out your answer.

You: “Okay”

Like most things, though it seemed absurd in the beginning, being friends with Aemond has become a normality. 

It started slowly, not going further than the two of you chatting during band practice. 

Then, you started going out to grab coffee together, airly discussing the band, upcoming shows, and what music you’d been listening to recently. 

As weeks pass by, your newfound familiarity blooms into a friendship. 

You start taking more liberties around each other, without constantly being on edge. 

Things like Aemond asks you if you’d like to go see a film by an up-and-coming director, you asking him if he’d like to grab food on the way home from the studio together. 

Your marriage, as tumultuous and heartbreaking as it had been, seems a distant memory now. The ashes from what once was have provided soil for the two of you to build a new, healthy friendship on. You feel thankful for that.

Thankful to still have Aemond in your life.

Being friends suits him. 

He’s opened up far more in these past few weeks to you than he had during the entirety of your futile relationship. 

He acredits it to the therapy and anger management he’d done, but you sense a real shift within him. 

He tells you about Alys; how he met her and how they developed a kind of friends with benefits dynamic as he longed for intimacy and she became his manager. 

Though you can vividly remember him calling her his ‘girlfriend’, he apparently hadn’t made that clear with her, and when he asked her to come on tour with him, a childish attempt at making you jealous, you presume, she’d patted him on the cheek and explained that though he’d been a fun fuck, she didn’t have time for a partner. 

He says that in retrospect, her not having any romantic feelings for him must’ve been a blessing, since he was only using her for selfish fulfilment himself. 

He tells you about Aegon; how they hadn’t spoken all summer, until Aemond reached out to properly apologise, a crucial part of the anger management program. 

Aegon, inspired by Aemond’s dedication to sort out his inner demons, had decided on a fourth trip to rehab. By now, he’s stayed sober for longer than ever before.

Aemond says that he’s made a habit of bringing his brother out hiking, trekking the vast landscape of the Reach. 

Sometimes during those long walks, they’d talk over each other, engaging in passionate discussion about everything and anything. Other times, they walk in comfortable silence, simply existing together. 

It’s nice seeing your ex husband so content. 

The bitterness you first felt at his dilatory introspection has been replaced by admiration; impressed by his dedication to be better. 

Somewhere inside, the wound of the past bleeds less and less. 

Perhaps this is how you were always meant to be? 

Friends. 

The realisation is bitter, but you’ve grown used to the taste on your tongue. 

You made the right decision. 

It’s almost midwinter when Aemond asks you to come over to your old flat one Sunday morning. 

Apparently he’s in the process of subletting the place, and needs help removing any personal belongings. 

It’s strange being back, already foreign and distant, yet still so familiar. 

“I’ve put some of your stuff in the guest bedroom”

Aemond gestures for you to follow him as you step inside. 

Like you don’t know where it is.

You follow him, watching as he opens the wardrobe, stepping to the side to invite you in. 

True to his perfectionist nature, your things are neatly organised, hanging in tidy rows. 

Some of your clothes, two coats, a vase you’d gotten from Alicent on your birthday, a jewellery box. Mostly gifts you received from Aemond, too painful for you to bring with you when you left all those months ago.

Maybe now you’re finally ready to look at the relics of your broken marriage with fondness, reminiscent of the love you once shared. 

As you inspect the wardrobe, you notice an old box tucked in one corner, edges worn down and structure almost caving in. 

You pick it up and open the lid, surprised to find the picture collage you’d made for him on your six month anniversary inside, along with a few other memorabilia from your relationship.

Two tickets to the cinema, a pub receipt, an ugly doodle of Aemond you drew as a joke. 

“What’s this?”, you ask as your hands rummage through the content of the box.

Aemond looks up from the moving box he’d been hunched in front of, eyes going wide when he sees what’s in your hand. 

“You can just put that back”, he quickly replies, face growing a bit pink. 

“I can just move this to the trash as well”, you say and shift towards the big, black bin bag in the corner. 

“That’s alright. I-, I want to keep it”, he mumbles quietly and stands up, towering over you as he takes the box from your hands. 

Your eyes dart from the frame with the pictures you’d made for him to his face, not quite sure why he wants to keep such trivial things. 

“I want to keep the memories” 

He puts the lid back on the box, bends down to place it on the floor, and pushes it towards the back of the closet using his foot. 

There’s something in the air that causes the mood to shift. It’s like a thick fog has settled over the room, sticking in your lungs whenever you breathe. 

“The good old days”, you joke stiffly, trying to chase the uncomfortable tension away. 

Aemond’s standing with his back against you, facing the closet. He hums in reply at your attempted humour. 

“Everything was so easy back then”, you sigh, moving to grab one of the coats hanging next to where he stands. 

He’s stiff as he turns to you, watching as you carefully examine the coat, pondering whether you should keep it or not. 

“I-”, Aemond starts before he stops himself, appearing to be lost in thought,

“I’d try every day to make it easy for you. To love me, I mean” 

Your head snaps to the side. His confession hits you with such force, it’s almost physical, and now it’s your turn to be lost for words. 

“Oh, Aemond”, you choke out as you take in the sad frown his face is set in,

“It was never hard loving you. It was hard being loved by you”

“I know”

One of his hands moves carefully towards you. When you don’t back away from him, he takes the opportunity to place it on your cheek. 

You can feel the way his hand trembles against your skin despite how gentle his touch is.  

“I can’t promise that it’ll always be easy. But I still love you as much as I did back then. I know I shouldn’t but I need to-” he licks his lips as he’s searching for the right words, 

“I need to ask you again. Will you take me back?”

His stare is intense as he carefully evaluates your reaction. You still can’t find your voice, stuck in your throat in shock. 

“I know I don’t deserve it, but I don’t want anyone-, anything else. I’ll do anything for you. Please take me back”, he begs, voice cracking at the end of his plea. 

The hand he’s placed on your cheek feels like it’s burning an imprint onto your skin. 

You’ve never seen him like this before. 

So open; heart on display, laid out in the hand he’s now offering you.

It’s all yours. 

He hurt you so much during your time together. 

He made life so hard for you. 

He made you feel alive. 

Would it be worth it; possibly being hurt again?

Feeling alive again. 

You bring your hand up to his cheek, mirroring how he’s cradling your face. 

Alive. 

Aemond’s POV

When she tilts her head up, leans forward and pulls his face closer to hers, he almost lets out a relieved cry. 

Kissing her again feels like coming up for air after being underwater for too long. 

It’s so relieving it hurts. 

Even when he has to leave her lips to breathe, he presses his face against hers, desperate for the contact. 

He can’t be apart from her warmth for even a second longer. 

Her arms meet around his neck, keeping him close as her breath heats up the skin of his face. 

He’s robbed himself of this for months. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever forgive himself for that. for allowing her to slip away. 

He searches for her mouth again, kissing her as if she could breathe life into his lungs and revive his numb heart. 

His hands can’t decide if they want to touch every part of her being, or hold her so close they melt into one. 

She presses herself against him, kissing him back with just as much vigour. 

The thought that she’s missed him makes him want to weep. 

“I love you”, he says between pants as he moves his lips from hers, trailing down to kiss her neck. 

Her hands grab the back of his shirt and she lets out a moan when his lips find the patch right beneath her ear she loves so much. 

She pulls him downwards, onto the floor, and offers him a giggle as she straddles him. 

Her fingers come down to help him unbutton his trousers, just as eager for him as he is for her. 

He feels tears burn behind his eyelids again. 

Finally. 

He can hardly contain himself as his fingers clumsily search for the buttons of his jeans to aid her in getting them off. He is so impatient, so eager for her, that his hands shake from desire. 

His soul is finally soothed when she sinks down on him.��

He’s consumed by her. 

When she begins to move, the grip of her cunt around him indicates that this won’t last long. But that’s alright. It won’t be the last time. 

He surges forward to kiss her again, to let her know how grateful he is. 

That she came back to him. 

That she’s offered him her warmth once again. 

Fin.

A/N: Thank you for reading! ❤️

A very special thank you(!) to Justine @theoneeyedprince who've helped me by beta-ing this fic. You are truly a gem, so wonderfully supportive of me and I appreciate you so, so very much. Besides being an absolute legend of a friend, Justine's also an immensely talented writer. If you're eager to read more modern heartbreak, check out her story Careless Whisper - it's so good! ❤️

[alwaysmicado]

in my arms

2.1k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | one-shot

Warnings: fluff, Joel’s POV (first person) Summary: As Joel watches you sleep beside him for the first time, he realizes just how deeply he’s come to crave something more than just fleeting moments together. A/N: This one-shot has been sitting in my drafts for ages, and I could really use a bit of heartwarming fluff right now—so I figured it’s the perfect time to share. I really hope it’ll bring you some comfort, too. Can be read alone or within the fwb!Joel AU. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts! I love hearing from you! ♡

It’s been a while since anyone’s slept in my bed with me.

Hell, it’s been a long time since I let anyone close enough to even get that far. But you—well, you have a way of making everything feel different, even when you don’t know it. Even when you don’t mean to.

And tonight, after weeks of the same routine, of having you in my arms just for the space of a couple of hours and then watching you slip away again, you are still here.

Fast asleep in my bed.

I shift in the darkness, the mattress dipping just slightly beneath me as I turn onto my side to face you fully. The only light in the room comes from the full moon shining outside, its glow filtering through the slats of the blinds, casting faint lines of silver and shadow across your bare skin. 

You’re lying on your belly, one arm tucked under the one pillow in my bed—yeah, yeah, I know—while the other rests loosely against the sheets. Your breathing is slow and steady, your chest rising and falling in a rhythm that is starting to soothe something deep inside me I didn’t even realize was tense.

I can’t sleep.

Not because I’m not tired—God knows I am—but because the idea of closing my eyes and missing even a second of this, of you being here, feels like something I can’t bear.

It’s strange. I’m not used to feeling this way.

Most of the time, when we’ve been together, I’ll lie awake for a bit after you’ve left, letting the quiet of the house settle over me like a blanket, pretending I don’t mind the loneliness creeping back in. Pretending I don’t mind that you leave.

But tonight is different. Tonight, you stayed.

I didn’t expect it, honestly. After the way the night had gone, with you laughing and dancing and a few too many Tequila shots, I figured you’d brush me off like you always would when we were done—give me that soft smile, kiss me one last time, and then slip out into the night before I could say anything to stop you.

But when I asked if you were alright, if you wanted me to call you a cab, you surprised me. You said no.

“I think I, uh, might have had just a liiiittle too much to drink,” you mumbled, half-laughing as you tried to sit up, only to sway slightly and grab onto my arm for balance. “Maybe I should just…stay here. If that’s okay.”

Of course, it was okay. It was more than okay.

But the way you said it, so casual, like it wasn’t a big deal, like it didn’t send a rush of something sharp and warm straight to my chest, made me realize how much I’d been hoping for this. Hoping for you to stay, to let me have this one night, where it wasn’t just about the—albeit fantastic—sex we had. Where it was about something more, even if we never put a name to it.

So, here we are.

You didn’t say much after we settled in. Just curled up beneath the sheets, close enough that I can now feel the warmth of your body beside me, but not so close that it feels like you’re giving me more than you’re ready to. And that’s fine. I’ll take whatever you are willing to give.

The truth is, I’ve been wanting this for a while now. Maybe even since the first time I took you home, if I’m being honest with myself. There’s just something about you that has gotten under my skin from that very first time our eyes met, and no matter how much I try to keep things simple, I can’t help the way I feel. The way you make me feel.

You’re smart, funny, insanely gorgeous, and stubborn as hell sometimes—but you have this vulnerability about you, too. Like you’re always holding back, keeping a part of yourself just out of reach, and for some reason, I want to be the one to reach it.

Tonight, though…tonight, I have you right here. No walls, no goodbye, no running off into the night. Just you, asleep beside me, looking so damn peaceful it makes my chest ache.

I shift a little closer, gently, just enough so that I can see your face better in the low light. I have the sudden urge to trace the contours of your face with my fingers, to put a soft kiss on your lips.

My hand twitches at my side, but I don’t move. Don’t want to risk waking you, even though part of me wants you to wake up, to look at me with those tired eyes and give me that sleepy smile that always makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, I’m more than a temporary distraction to you.

I believe you when you say you like spending time with me. You make me feel it, too. When we’re together, you’re really here with me. But it’s just that, after every time, it ends. You always leave.

And I’m left wondering when, or if, you’ll come back to me.

I watch you for a long time. Longer than I should, probably. But I can’t help it. There’s something about the way you look when you’re asleep—so soft, so unguarded—that makes me feel like I’m seeing a part of you you don’t let anyone else see. Not even me.

I wonder what you’re dreaming about. If you’re thinking about anything at all, or if your mind is finally at peace, even for just a little while. I hope it’s the latter. You’ve had a stressful week you told me, and I hope you’re dreaming of something nice, something that makes you feel safe.

And I want to be that for you. I want to be the one who makes you feel safe. But I know better than to push my luck. You aren’t ready, and I’m not going to ask for more than you can or want to give.

Still, lying here beside you, feeling the warmth of your body so close to mine, I can’t help but imagine what it would be like if things were different. If this wasn’t just a one-time thing, but something we did every night. If you stayed, not because you were too drunk to leave, but because you wanted to.

Because you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

I can picture it so easily—waking up with you next to me, your sleepy voice mumbling something incoherent as you stretch and blink the sleep from your eyes.

I’d make you coffee, just the way you like it in the morning, and we’d sit at the kitchen table, talking about nothing and everything all at once. Maybe we’d bicker about something stupid, like which show to watch or who gets to choose the music while we cook dinner. And then, at the end of the day, we’d come back to this—this quiet, this closeness—and I’d fall asleep knowing you are right here in my arms.

But that’s not how things are.

I know that. I’m not delusional. I know that whatever this is between us, it isn’t something you’re ready to define. And maybe that’s fine. Maybe I can be okay with that, at least for now.

But damn, it’s hard not to want more.

Not because I want to hold you back or limit the way you explore the world and discover yourself—that’s the last thing I’d ever want for you. You’re young and bright, and the world’s wide open for you. It’s because of you—the way you make me feel when you’re with me. The way your smile lights up my world, the way you make everything feel like it matters. 

The way you make me believe I could be the man you deserve.

You shift in your sleep, your body turning slightly toward me, and I freeze for a second, thinking you’re waking up. But you don’t. You just let out a soft sigh, your hand twitching as it curls into the pillow, and then you settle again, your breathing evening out once more.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

God, I’ve got it bad.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt like this. The last time I’ve cared this much about someone, about something that wasn’t already a part of my life. I was used to keeping things simple, keeping my world small. It was easier that way. Less messy, less tiring. But you…you snuck in somehow, made a place for yourself without me even realizing it, and now that you are here, I don’t want to let you go.

I won’t tell you that, though. I’m not stupid. I know you aren’t ready to hear it, and the last thing I want to do is overstep and scare you off. I can wait. I can be patient.

But that doesn’t stop me from feeling it.

My eyes trace the curve of your cheek, the gentle slope of your lips, and my fingers itch to touch you. I know I shouldn’t. I know this is already more than you’ve given me before.

But It’s hard. It’s hard not to reach out and hold onto this moment, to hold onto you.

I let out a slow breath, trying to steady myself and my heartbeat, but my thoughts keep circling back to the same thing: What if this is the only time?

I reach out, finally letting my fingers brush lightly against your temple, tracing your soft skin, your cheek, your shoulder. You don’t stir, don’t even flinch, and for some reason, that makes my chest tighten even more. You trust me, even in your sleep. Trust me enough to let me be here with you, to see you like this, vulnerable and real.

And that…that means more to me than I could ever put into words.

I move closer, just enough so that our bodies are barely touching, and I let myself close my eyes for a moment, even though I know I won’t sleep. Not tonight. Not with you here, like this.

Instead, I just let myself feel it. The warmth of your skin, the soft rise and fall of your breathing, the steady beat of your heart just a few inches away from mine. It’s a quiet kind of intimacy, one I haven’t realized I’ve been missing for a long time.

Maybe tomorrow you’ll wake up and slip away again, back to the way things always are between us. Maybe you’ll put up your walls, tell yourself this didn’t mean anything more than any other night. And maybe I’ll let you, because I’m not ready to push for more, not yet.

For now, you’re here. You’re here. And that’s enough.

For now, that’s enough.

I open my eyes again, letting them drift back to your face. You’re still so peaceful, so soft in the moonlight, and I feel something swell in my chest that I haven’t felt in years. Something big, something real.

I lean in, just a little, pressing the softest kiss to your warm forehead, barely more than a whisper of touch. You don’t wake, don’t even stir, but the simple act makes something settle deep inside me. Like this is right. Like this is how it’s supposed to be.

I could stay like this all night, just watching you, soaking in the quiet comfort of you beside me. And maybe I would, if I didn’t feel the pull of sleep finally creeping up on me. My eyelids grow heavier with each passing second, and even though I try to fight it, I know I can’t stay awake forever.

You keep me on my toes, but I’m not thirty anymore. 

So, with one last look at you, one last moment of quietly letting myself feel everything I haven’t been ready to admit, I let my eyes close. My hand rests lightly against your waist, and I finally let sleep take me.

For the first time in a long time, I fall asleep feeling like I’m not alone. Like I don’t have to be. Like maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something more.

And that thought—you—is the last thing on my mind before I drift off.

– – –

Series Masterlist ♡ Joel Masterlist ♡ AO3

taglist: @cosmic006533-blog @ashleyfilm @theoraekenslover @moel-jiller

@dugiioh @eviestevie-14 @ghostofzion @joeldjarin @jupiter-soups

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@am-3-thyst @joelinawrites @purpleprincess75

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#399

“Oh man, Fuck!...  Oh sorry you had to hear that call.  Didn’t mean to interrupt you enjoying your brew.  It’s just that my girlfriend makes me so fucking pissed off….  Get this, she knows I work 14 days straight busting my ass on that drilling rig.  I am about to head home for four days of rest.  That’s a 7-hour drive, each way.  So she tells me that her sister and mother are in town staying with us.  My days of relaxing are shot to shit.  And worse yet there’s no way I’m getting her pussy.  I probably won’t even get head.  Ain’t that shit?...

“Oh sorry.  I forget that I’m not with a dozen or so other roughnecks out in the field.  All they talk about is pussy.  Most of them don’t have a girlfriend, let alone a wife.  Hearing them go on and on about fucking and getting a blow job, I forget that other people might talk about something else.

“My god, I just wanted to get home and kick back with a beer and get some head.  You know the kind of blowjob that goes on for an hour and it relaxes your entire body.  That doesn’t even include blowing your wad.  You know what I’m talking about?

“Oh there I go again.  Sorry if I’m telling too much....  I do that when I start drinking.   Do you care if I talk about getting blown?...  Good.  Thought so.  What man doesn’t want head at the end of weeks of working damned hard? 

“…Here’s to blowjobs!  Cheers! 

“Hey Frank! Get my friend here another beer….  Nah!  Put your money away.  I got this. 

“So your car broke down?...  We are one of two taverns for twenty miles.  The other is by the interstate one mile away.  At this time of day it’s quite deserted.  We typically only get locals in here.  That is, unless you are having work done at Mike Larson’s garage.  There’s not that much out here, just the garage, Frank’s tavern, the lodge, and the oilfield’s main office over there across the creek.  Was I right?  Is it your car?

“…That was not a happy nod.  So, you’re here for tonight… Oh wait, the garage is closed for the weekend.  You are here until Monday?  …Again, that nod tells me everything.  Well to make matters worse, there are no available women for at least 50 or 60 miles.  This is what this hellhole has to offer. 

“I don’t know about you but it looks like it’s going to be an evening of pounding the pud.  And when I get done, I’ll use my other hand to make it feel like I’m getting a handjob from someone else.

“Goddamn my girlfriend fucked this all up.  I only had this weekend off, before I have to report back here to start filling in for a bud on Wednesday.  She thought that I would want to spend time with her fucking family.  Sometimes I wonder why I’m still with her.

“You have a wife or girlfriend?... 

“…Huh!  Well, sometimes I wish I was like you, single.  But sometimes I really need to get my balls drained.  She gives great head though.  She’s the only girlfriend I had who can take my head in her throat.  I have a big schlong, and every woman I dated complained about its size.  It takes her a long time to throat me.  Most of the time I get frustrated, and I wind up grabbing her head and fucking her mouth.  Eventually it ends in her throat.  She has never taken me down to the root.

“But I really have to be buzzed to get into skull fucking the bitch.  The part she really hates is me dick slapping her.  As I said, I have a gigantic dick.  Smacking her upside her head with my cock usually throws her off balance.  So does a face slap with my hand. 

“When I get in the zone, I am all kinds of aggressive.  I am only after one thing, to bust my nut.  If that means roughing up the bitch, then she’s going to get roughed up.  If I’m drunk enough, I’ll not only fuck her cunt, but she’ll take me in her ass.

“Right now, if she were here, I would be fucking her in every position in every hole.  I wouldn’t care if she was enjoying it.  I’m so fucking horny.  I would use any woman right now.  I can’t have a weekend of jerking off.  Hell, if there was a faggot, I would use him the same way. 

“And it’s a good thing that I have a faggot sitting not ten feet away from me, paying attention to every word I say, licking his lips every time I mention blowjobs, and responding with awkward silence when I asked if he had a bitch back home.  No straight man acts this way.

“I would ask you if you are a cock sucking faggot, but we both know the answer.  Don’t we?  So this is what is going to happen.  I’m going to walk over there, to the men’s toilet.  You want my fat hog in your faggot throat, you follow me in.  Don’t say a word.  Get on your faggot knees and open your faggot mouth. 

“I’ll give you until I drain my piss.  If you don’t come in at that time, then you better be out of here and hide in your room at the lodge.

“I really got to piss, so you don’t have much time….

“…Well fuck.  I would have thought you would have taken some time to think about it.  But OK.

“I really have to piss.  While I do that get in the stall and on your knees.  Be ready for me.  I swear, the beers just pour right through me.  Oh, this feels good—

“What the fuck?  I’m not done pissing….  Oh?  So, you are one of those kinds of faggots.  Nasty piss drinking faggot!  Oh fuck, your mouth feels good.  You are definitely getting a reaction out of my hog.  That’s it for my piss for now.

“Faggot, see how big it is?  You think you can take it?

“Jesus fuck!  Right to the root with no problem!  Holy shit.  You faggots know what you are doing.  Oh man.  This is… fuck!  Oh my god! 

“Bob up and down.  Go head-to-root-to-head-to-root.  Fuck!  This is the blowjob I have been looking for all my life.  Lucky me I found me a faggot with car problems.

“Pull off.  I said, ‘Pull off!’  Look up at me.  Hold still…. 

“…What?  Nothing?  I just gave you one of the hardest bitch slaps I have ever given and you just take it….  Wait, what did you just say?  Did you just thank me… for bitch slapping you?

“Get up.  Get your faggot-ty ass up.  Let’s go.  Move!

“We are going to my room at the lodge.  You are going to spend your night with me. 

“Pay Frank your tab and leave a good tip.  Meet me outside…  A fifty?  You know what a good tip is, that or you didn’t care to wait for him to give you change.

“OK faggot.  I have never used a fag before.  But damn, that one minute in the toilet told me I have been missing out. 

“Over here.  I’m the last room.  The lodge is free for us roughnecks.  The company pays for our housing.  My room is at the end.  It’s a glorified motel room.  I have tons of beer.  You won’t get any, at least not without it going through me first.  Never did that before, but fuck I liked it.

“I plan on being here for four days.  You are going to spend your time with me and my cock down your throat.  You probably take it up your ass.  I will definitely try that out.

“Now listen up.  I have no interest in you or your dick.  I ain’t sucking you or getting fucked by you.  You try anything like that, and I will beat the shit out of you.  Understand me?...  Understand me faggot?

“And keep up the ‘Yes Sir!’  I like the sound of that.  Here we are.  Faggot this is all new for me.  But I will tell you this, I am liking what has been done so far.  I’m so ready to do this.  My cock has not lost it’s hard on.  I may never go back.  Faggot get inside and strip!”

[hellcatsrtt]

“A break”

With a relationship, comes hardships to overcome.

¡!s.gojo x gn!reader

¡notes! wrote this whilst on the plane, pls no judge ;-;

“WELL I DIDN’T THINK SPENDING TIME WITH MY FRIEND WOULD MAKE YOU SO MAD BABY, FOR FUCKS SAKE!” Satoru ran his fingers through his hair as he yelled at you. His anger, clearly rising the more he spoke.

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT SATORU, I LITERALLY ASKED YOU TO MAKE DINNER AND YOU COMPLETELY IGNORED ME TO GO TO SUGURU’S HOUSE!” You stood up from the couch yelling back, just as loud, eyes gradually filling with water, threatening to fall at any given moment.

“Oh my god give me a break.” He stuffed his hands in his face, instantly regretting the words that just came out of his mouth. Sighing loudly, he manspreaded his long legs across his side of the XL L-shaped couch. Before standing up to approach you.

“Baby, I didn’t mean that.” He gently grabbed your chin, tilting it so he could look into your eyes. His regret hitting even harder as he noticed your tears. Falling from your eyes, making you look beuatiful, but that did not matter because you were crying from his wrong doings.

You looked at him, unsure of how to respond. You felt hurt. Hurt not just because of what he had just said. But because you were letting all his actions from the past two weeks,sink in and hit you hard. With all its strength.

You turned your head to the side, unleashing yourself from Satoru’s hold. Sniffling softly as more tears began cascading down your cheeks.

“No, gojo. Maybe you’re right. I’ll give you a break.” You turned to look at him, weakly smiling as he looked at you. Immense guilt and horror leaking from him.

“Baby, baby no what do you mean? I- I was just heated. I didn’t mean anything i said.” He ran to hold you by both your wrists, crouching down so he was fully, face to face with you.

“It’s not what you’ve said, you know, it’s what you’ve done too.” You whispered, trying to release yourself from his grip.

“Is it because I was with Suguru? I- you want me to stop talking to him? I don’t care,I’ll do it. It’s you, it’s only you that I want.” He was now fully kneeling down on the floor, sobbing harshly as his arms travelled all around your body, his body falling limp onto your legs.

“I’m going to Shoko’s tonight.” You finally managed to get off his tight grip, walking towards the door to the apartment.

“No- Baby, please.” He sobbed chasing after you at the door. Ready to put his shoes on and follow you, wherever you went.

“Satoru Gojo.” You turned to face him again, eyes meeting his. Seeing them bloodshot and filled with tears made you feel bad. But right now, he should be the one feeling bad not you. “Leave me alone, just for tonight. I said I’m going to Shoko’s, so I’m going there. You won’t change my mind about that. I’ll come back when- when I think is best. Please Satoru, leave me alone, for me.”

He looked into your eyes, desperate for the words I’m joking, lets go to bed to come out of your mouth. But they didn’t, he watched your body slip out of the black door. His vision turning blurry, breathe quickening and soon enough, he couldn’t take it.

“FUCK!” He shouted, punching the wall beside him, causing a large dent to be imprented on it. Turning to the glass vase beside him, he smashed it right on the floor. Then proceeded to walk straight through it. He didn’t care. He did not care, because you were not with him.

-

Eventually, Satoru fell asleep at around 6 am in your shared bed. On your side of the bed, stuffing his face in your pillow to smell the scent of your shampoo and conditioner which rubbed off onto it. He regretted it. So bad. For ever being mean to you. For shouting at you.

After the small incident that had occurred after you left. He called housekeeping to clean his mess, before grabbing his coat to follow you.

And follow you, did he do.

He watched you as you quietly cried, walking down the secluded streets which had been lit up by the dim yellow streetlights and the few shops that were still open at this time.

He watched you as you stopped walking. Turning to face a store. A korean fried chicken store. The korean fried chicken store you guys always ate from on every anniversary.

He watched as more tears fell from your face, and you turned, walking- no probably running at this point, to get to Shoko’s.

He watched you take your phone out, and fortunately from his six eyes, he could see what you were doing.

He watched as you scroll through your camera roll, admiring the pictures you had with him.

He watches as you enter the apartment complex and walk to Shoko’s door. Yet again, thankfully for his six eyes, he knows you safely went into Shoko’s house. But then again, he alao watched you crumble in her arms as you cried. Because of him.

The next morning, he waited for you. Dark circles slowly forming under his eyes. He leaned against the cold marble counter. His body lacking the usual strong and confident aura, rather radiating a mournful energy.

He didn’t move from that spot for 7 hours.

Morning became evening and he still didn’t see you enter the apartment which you two called ‘home’ . He was growing worried and debated wether or not to go to Shoko’s house where he knew you were, but he knew that doing so would probably anger you, since if you were gone for this long already. You most likely needed the time.

So he confided into calling Suguru to ask if he’d heard from either the two of you.

“Nah sorry I haven’t, want me to call them?” He asked, wanting to help his best friend who sounded very much stressed.

“Please.” Satoru responded barely above a whisper.

“I’m going to come over. Be there in 15’.”

He laid his head down on his arms, staring blankly at the large windows. Remembering how you would always gasp at the views every night even though you saw them, everyday.

Soon enough, a knock ringed around the apartment entry hallway.

Satoru walked up to open the door, assuming it was Suguru. But infact, it was not Suguru.

It was you.

Back hunched, hair messy, clothes smelly, teeth unbrushed. He stared at you, unmoving for a few seconds before capturing you in his arms.

Holding you so strongly, to the point you thought you would burst. He showered you with numbers of compliments and apologies. His cerulean eyes gleeming as they met yours.

He didn’t care if you wouldn’t accept his apology yet, all he cared was that you were with him.

After a couple minutes of taking in his affirmation, you both walked to the living room, sitting on the couch. Satoru getting as close as possible to you.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, looking at your hands which were unterlocked with Satoru’s larger ones.

“No- no you shouldn’t be sorry, i’m the one at fault, im the one to blame-“

Before he could say anymore, you captyred hus lips, giving him a kiss which was not the usual sensualones you would give each other, but rather gave the message across of it’s okay, I forgive you.

After the kiss ended. You both ended up laying on the couch, your head laying on hus broad chest as you heard his hesrt beat softly accompanying his comforting breathing. Letting you know that he’s here, with you.

The same goes for Satoru, he has his arm tracing you from your upper thigh, to your lower back, all the way to your neck.

It stayed silent like that as you enjoyed eachothers reassuring presence. Eventually, both of you slowly drifted off to sleep, dreaming of eachother…

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

"Bite Me" - Alastor x Reader - Part 4

NOTE: smidge of Vox being creepy to Alastor. Nothing explicit or detailed.

----

You had just left the hotel to run some errands for yourself. You told Alastor he wouldn't want to tag along, but he insisted. You told him he'd not like where you were heading to, he didn't listen.

"...So STOP COMPLAINING!" You snapped at him.

Alastor didn't look at you, eyes straight ahead. His smile was strained, his ears pinned back, his posture straight and his arms crossed behind his back.

The two of you were walking through part of the Vees' territory.

"What, do tell, is your reasoning for bringing me here?"

"Are you stupid?" You hissed out "I just- I told you multiple times! I told you 'hey you don't want to go with me i'm heading somewhere you hate'."

"Perhaps I assumed it was an attempt to avoid me."

Your eye twitched. "Okay. Sure. Well, now you know it's not. So leave."

Alastor's eyes narrowed, though he didn't turn his eyes to you. "Oh but if I do now, that tacky picture-box might view it as a surrender...No, no, no. I'm simply going to take my time is all."

"Picture box?"

He let out a little 'hmm'. You didn't know if he thought he was confirming something for you or if he was fully aware you didn't know what he was talking about. Picture box?

"This is your destination?" Alastor said, ear twitching. You turned to look at him, hand on the door of the shop you arrived at. It was an electronics store with various gadgets and gizmos.

"Er. Yeah. I told you-"

"I'll simply wait out here for you then, yes?" He hummed, turning on heel and making himself comfortable standing right outside the door. Some meandering demons seemed to have recognized him, bursting out into terrfied screams and booking it to who-knows-where. Alastor chuckled and it seemed he found it funny.

You rolled your eyes and got to your business. Your headphones had recently broken down, being damn near impossible to use. You didn't bother having a job down here, but since you moved into the hotel you would do small chores here and there for spending money. Stealing wasn't exactly...encouraged at redemption. So. You tried to be moral about it.

Headphones of choice in hand, you fished about in your pockets for your cash even when the other people in the store started storming out while screeching in fear. Even the cashier was gone when you had placed the money on the counter and pocketed your new headphones.

You paid the right amount and trotted on out.

Expecting only Alastor, you ended up halting in your tracks when you see another demon talking to him. A TV-faced individual who's outfit seemed a blue version of Alastor's own. Oh. Picture box. This was probably who Alastor was talking about- Vox...

TV-face was too close to him.

You felt a growl rise up in your throat.

Alastor was doing a good job appearing unphased, but even if he was it didn't matter to you. The other demon was practically nose to non-existing-nose to the deer man, arms on either side of him in a blockade of sorts.

The TV was talking in a low, threatening growl. Something about 'have the nerve to not join him-'

You ducked underneath TV-man's arm, putting yourself between them and shoving the man away.

The flat-face of the fucker flashed a moment as its owner was startled, then one of the man's eyes started spiraling in color. Your mind started to feel a bit...fuzzy.

Alastor had put his hand on your shoulder, pulling you back behind him. Your gaze was stuck on TV guys, transfixed by the spinning-

Wait.

The bastard was hypnotizing you?

You growled, baring your fangs as your tail bristled.

HOW FUCKING DARE HE

Alastor's sound of surprise was small, quiet, and almost inaudible as you pushed him back, stomping up to Vox and shoved one claw onto his screen.

"Hey, you flat-faced plasma-screened fuck-a-saurus, back off before I shove something in your ports that ain't a HDMI cable!"

A quiet 'what the fuck are they saying' behind you was completely ignored. Blue electricity sparked off of Vox as he grabbed your wrist, leering down at you with that hypnotizing eye.

You pulled back, not managing to get super far as the TV-guy's grip on your wrist tightened.

"You got some nerve, you stupid bitch." He laughed, looking back to Alastor "I can't help if your associate here is brave or incredibly stupid."

"A bit of both, in my opinion." Alastor hummed "I do recommend you return them to me. They're a resident at the hotel, you know."

"You're still involved in that dumb thing?"

"It's entertaining. Now, then-"

You stopped supporting your own weight abruptly. Vox, supposedly not expecting that, stumbled as the center of gravity shifted. You took the opportunity to twist his wrist to release your arm and slid underneath him. You scrambled up onto his back and snapped your jaw open wide, preparing to bite down-

-only for your teeth to meet nothing air.

You blinked, disoriented.

Alastor was suddenly holding you. He's done it before, sure. Carrying you around like a suitcase or by the back of your shirt. But here he was, holding you bridal style.

"Wonderful catching up to you, old pal." Alastor said, grinning widely. "Now if you excuse me, I have other matters to attend to."

Vox's screen was sparking, his eyes darting between Alastor's and your own. His hypnotism started up in his eye a moment. You flipped him off with both hands, glaring intently.

He started screeching something, but Alastor's cackle drowned it out as he shadowed the two of you away.

"You shouldn't bite scum like him, my dear." Alastor said, placing you on your feet. He tapped one claw lightly against your nose "You may catch something awful. On another note..." he crossed his arms behind his back, giving you a flat look "whatever were you thinking getting between two overlords like that? Did you think i couldn't handle myself?" His tone lowered at that last question, his gaze darkening as red and black switched places.

"Um. I wasn't thinking." You replied honestly. Shrugging down into yourself, you took a half-step back. "I...Well. Um. I just. Did. He was giving me some intense incel vibes and I got mad so." You finished lamely with a half-hearted shrug "yeah."

Alastor scanned you a moment in silence. You started fidgeting with your claws and wondered if he'd let you write out a last will before killing you.

"I see." he said. "Well then, were there any other errands you needed to run?"

"Um. Nope." You said, ducking your head. Alastor tsked, pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger and forced you to look up at him.

"No need to avoid my gaze, my dear. Simply let me handle my own affairs from now on, yes?"

You blinked. "...I mean. No promises, but i'll attempt."

Alastor hummed "Yes, I supposed that's the most you can do."

~~~~~~

Later that day, Alastor asked Nifty what 'incel vibes' were. The little maid answer without a care in the world, going about her cleaning as usual without giving it another thought.

Alastor stood alone in that hallway, staring at nothing in particular. You got protective over him? It was laughable! He was the Radio Demon! You were...you.

Why was his heart beating so fast again?

==================

Maybe the whole biting thing isn't quite what Alastor is fixating on Reader about....

Bit more detail on the strip poker thing: The gang decides to do a strip poker night, but Reader doesn't know how to play poker. Angel comes up with the idea that any clothing taken off anyone else will be put on Reader instead.

[lazycats-stuff]

What about Batfam x male reader where the reader was actually the first child Bruce adopted and he was the practice child. He hated growing io because Bruce had really no idea what to do and then the other kids came along and now Bruce kinda understood what to do. He hates family time because he never felt like family, he was just some doll the others could practice on so later they wouldn't make mistakes. And i imagine at some point they snap. I feel like what if Damian brought over Jon for dinner and Jon was like "oh I thought Dick's the oldest, you never told me about (reader)" and reader just slams down their fist and goes to their room. At this point the rest of the family try to comfort them but the reader only screams about how they never were a son or bother, they were only a practice doll for them to use and then throw away

This has angst written all over it... Ah. Angst train it seems... Also, I think I changed the end a bit, but that's fine...

Summary: (Y/N) was nothing but a test child for Bruce. He finally lets them have it

Warnings: angst, resentment, author sucks at angst, but hey, I tried, yelling, mentions of anxiety, the fam is trying, (Y/N) is mad beyond belief, implications of child neglect... If you can call it child neglect.

(Y/N) (L/N) was the oldest member of the Wayne family and the first child that Bruce had adopted. (Y/N) didn't have a good life at all before he met Bruce. (Y/N) could also argue that Bruce didn't treat him well as well, since being emotionally unavailable is not a good trait to have when you have children.

As the years went by, he hated growing up in the manor and with Bruce. He had food, a roof over his head and some sort of education. But that wasn't enough. The feeling of resentment that (Y/N) had has only grown as the years went by.

The feeling of being a test to Bruce, to see what he need to improve made his blood boil. He was a test pancake for Bruce and some sort of feedback to Bruce. It made (Y/N) mad beyond. Bruce could have gotten his shit straight when he started to have him as his legal child.

(Y/N) wished that he could forget everything about Bruce. About the family too. Even before Dick came, resentment building up in him nearly exploded. Looking back, he should have exploded on Bruce and Dick... Maybe even punch them. Maybe he should have done it.

When Dick came, (Y/N) saw signs that Bruce was improving, but he didn't show that to (Y/N). Years went by and Damian came. To say that Damian pretended that (Y/N) didn't exist is an understatement. (Y/N) tried to get closer to Damian, but Damian always pushed him away. (Y/N) took the signs and gave up, sadness and anger boiling inside of him. But he did observe Damian and Dick. In matter of a few days, they were close.

Dick did it without even trying.

So, (Y/N) has decided to alienate himself from the family, at least until he gets enough money to leave. Thankfully, the resentment towards Bruce and the rest of the family made him even put everything he had in school, even though no one cared about it. He had straight As and he was on his way to go to college that was far away from here. He knows that he can do it.

Even as Tim and Jason came, (Y/N) tried to be close to them, but none of them cared. None. (Y/N)'s solace became his own room and would avoid the family at all costs until it was time to eat where he had to step out. That only solidified the fact that he was going to leave as soon as possible.

Either way, he just had to alienate himself and move out. Then, everyone in the house would be happy.

However, everything would turn on its head when Damian would bring his boyfriend Jon over to meet the family and by default (Y/N). If only (Y/N) knew what would happen.

Dinner rolled around and came down to eat. He didn't expect to see Jon, but was nice to introduce himself to Jon, trying to be nice and just get this stupid dinner over with. He put some food on his plate and just ate in silence while everyone else talked.

He listened to bits and pieces and just stayed silent. He finished his plate quickly and pushed it away and sipped at his water, just being polite and getting ready to leave back at his room.

" Damian, you didn't tell me anything about (Y/N)... I thought that Dick was oldest of the brothers. " Jon said and (Y/N) froze.

Damian didn't tell Jon about him...

(Y/N)'s anger boiled over and he slammed his fist into the table before standing up quickly, knocking the chair over. Everyone got startled at the actions and watched in silence as (Y/N) left the dining room.

After a few seconds they all jumped into action, trying to stop (Y/N) to comfort him. (Y/N) slammed the door of his room shut, locking to make sure no one could enter, before he broke down on his bed. He hugged his pillow and sobbed into it.

It shouldn't hurt like this. He should have been stronger than this. Not cry over them.

" (Y/N), please open the door. " Bruce said through the door.

" Please, we just want to talk. " Dick added and (Y/N) snapped at that, anger boiling over once again.

" Talk?! TALK?! Stop acting like you care! " (Y/N) yelled at the top of his lungs.

" We do care. " Jason started.

" You don't give a single flying damn about me! I was never a son or a brother to anyone! I was only a test toy to Bruce so he could see what he could fucking improve! I was never a fucking brother either! Damian fucking proved it! " (Y/N) yelled at the top of his lungs, tears streaming down his face.

Everyone stayed silent and (Y/N) sobbed his heart out. Damian swallowed hardly, realizing what he did and how that hurt (Y/N) deeply. Maybe he shouldn't have...

Everyone glanced at each other. They stayed silent as they listened to (Y/N)'s sobs. Just how much pain did they brought up onto him?

" (Y/N), look- " Bruce started and (Y/N) screamed again.

" Don't you dare care right now! I'm moving out in a few days anyway and I don't need your pity or apology! " (Y/N) yelled, trying to wipe the never ending stream of tears.

" Moving out?! " Bruce yelled, eyes wide in shock. He know he has no right to tell (Y/N) what to do, but something flared up in Bruce. " No, you're not moving out! You are going to stay put because we have to solve this problem! "

" Are you shitting me Bruce?! Work things out?! "

" I'm not shitting you! I have to make things right with you! You are my son too! " Bruce yelled through the door.

" I don't give a single damn about any of you! "

Bruce took a deep breath, trying not to explode. He knows he has no right to be angry, but (Y/N) was still his son. " (Y/N), I am your dad and we will solve this problem. "

" We won't solves shit Bruce! "

" (Y/N), please, " Tim started, but (Y/N) cut him off. " Shut up Tim! "

Tim bit the inside of his cheek and stepped back.

" (Y/N), " Jason started, " You need to calm down, you'll give yourself a heart attack. "

(Y/N) wanted to scream even more, but he felt like he was going to die from this situation.

" Shut up, all of you! "

Now Dick started. " (Y/N), we may have been bad brothers- "

" May have?! You were- No, you are the worst brothers! " (Y/N) yelled and clenched his fists as he started facing around the room.

Dick sighed and stepped back. At the moment, everyone knew that (Y/N) talking to them without yelling at them and more importantly, he needed to calm down first.

But with how much anger and resentment there is, it is going to take a while.

" Lets leave (Y/N) alone for a while. He needs to be alone for now. " Bruce said and gently moved everyone away from (Y/N)'s doors, who was inside, trying to breathe more normally. He felt like he was going to jump out of his skin in the next few moments. He calmed down after a while, but he was still anxious beyond belief.

Unfortunately, the threat of moving out is just a threat and not a promise. (Y/N) sighed as he sat down on his bed. It was a stupid move to say that while he didn't have everything secure yet. Stupid.

(Y/N) went to the bathroom and washed his face and drank some water, to soothe his soon to be sore throat. It won't be nice to talk in a few hours.

Either way, it's better than leaving this room in order to face his siblings and dad. No, they are just roommates here, until (Y/N) can move out and just finally cut them out of his life.