#to stop it from fraying g

[isa-ah]

witness the birth of my cow.

[deus-ex-mona]

when you’re ✨too cute✨ for this cruel world /j

[redvexillum]

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, big c♡ck!Val, light degradati♡n kink, Val is in hell for a reason, p in v, naive!reader, dub-con, betrayal, angst, praise kink, sub!reader, rough s♡x, hair pulling, multiple ♡rgasm (f!recieving), dirty talk, daddy dom/sub undertone, fing♡ring, cervix f♡cking, ♡verstimulation, thr♡at f♡cking, g♡slighting, first time writing Val, Val is the warning

WORD COUNT: 5.7K~

SPECIAL MENTION: @crackrodent (my fellow VoxTek Server member), your request has been heard. Here you go.

In your bleakest hour, when the darkness of Hell threatened to swallow you whole, a saviour came in the form of a devil – no, a man. A man, tall and lanky, his grin hidden behind the oversized, heart-shaped sunglasses that glittered with charm. His suit, sleek and pristine, seemed to gleam in the dim light of his studio, its fabric cool against your fingertips. His antennae resembled delicate strands of beads, swaying gently with each movement, while the fur collar draped around his neck was impossibly soft, like brushing your hand against velvet clouds.  

You sank into the plush couch, its cushions cradling you as though welcoming you into his world of luxury. As you leaned forward, the silence of the room wrapped around you, broken only by the gentle press of your lips against his. Valentino’s touch, ever so light, cradled your cheek with the upper set off his arms, the pads of his fingers warm and tender. His lower arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, a possessive embrace that held you still beneath his gaze.  

“Ah, baby,” he cooed, his voice rich and decadent, like the taste of something forbidden and wild. His red eyes, muted behind his tinted glasses, traced every inch of your face. “I’d love to make you a star.” 

Your breath hitched, heat flooding your cheeks. “Val, I…I’m not good at acting,” you murmured, almost shrinking under the intensity of his gaze. You could still remember the days he found you – lost, chased by heartless demons, terrified. He’d stepped in with his effortless charm, offered your shelter, safety, everything you could ever want and more. He gave it all so freely, draping you in luxury that felt like a dream, love that you had never known before.  

He chuckled, a sound so smooth it sent a shiver down your spine. “Nonsense, cariño,” he whispered, each word sliding from his lips like honey. His hand pressed against your chest, gently pushing you back into the couch’s soft embrace. “Look at you,” he purred, a predatory grin stretching his lips, revealing the glint of his golden tooth. “You’re absolutely stunning.” He leaned closer, the heat of his breath grazing your skin like a soft whisper. “You’re sexy,” he murmured, his fingers brushing over your collarbone. “And you voice…” His lips hovered near your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “Absolutely divine.” 

Your body reacted before your mind could process, your pulse quickening as heat pooled in your core. “V-Val…” you breathed, voice trembling with anticipation. He’d made love to you before, always so tender, so careful – his touch was slow, calculated, and worshipful. Every time, he ensured you reached the stars before him.  

He was patient.  

He was kind.  

He was your everything.  

“At least audition for my movie, won’t you?” Val’s voice slid through you like silk, pulling you under the weight of his will. It always did. His hands, those skilled, knowing hands, never stopped their caresses. “You don’t have to worry, I’ll take care of everything for you. I always do.” 

A soft giggle escaped your lips, though your nerves frayed at the edges. “I guess I can try,” you whispered, fingertips tracing the sharp line of his jaw, finding comfort in the familiar feel of his skin. “But…you won’t be angry if I fail, right?” The words were hesitant, the shadow of doubt clinging to your tone. You searched his face, wanting to find reassurance that had always been there.  

“Of course not, cariño.” Valentino placed a soft kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “I could never be angry at you.” Another kiss followed, but this one felt colder, more distant.  

“I love you, Val,” you sighed, letting your eyes flutter shut as you melted into his embrace, your arms tightening around his chest. His scent – rich, intoxicating, almost suffocating – filled your senses, and you held on to it, onto him, like a lifeline. “I love you so much,” you repeated, your words trembling with a vulnerability you weren’t sure he’d ever truly hear.  

He laughed, a low rumble vibrating through his chest. He never said it back. He never had. But you had convinced yourself it was fine. He’d told you once that love took time, that he needed to learn how to feel it. And you had promised to wait for him – for however long it took.  

“My heart,” Val murmured against your skin, his lips brushing down the length of your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His fingers slipped beneath your shirt, the tips cool against the flush of your skin. You shuddered, helpless under his touch, every nerve alighted as he traced, slow, deliberate patterns across your bare flesh.  

“A-ah, Val…” Your voice trembled as his fingers roamed higher, teasing, ghosting over the curve of your breast. His touch, light as a feather, sent a surge of warmth coursing through you. But something pulled your attention – a sharp glint in the corner of your eye.  

A camera.  

Its lens was pointed directly at the couch. The red light blinked in the shadows, cold and unfeeling.  

“W-wait, Val!” You gasped, your heart lurching as his tongue, long and sinuous, slid over your neck, leaving a trail of icy wetness in its wake.  

The room’s heat pressed in around you, the air thick with the heady scent of Valentino’s cologne mixed with something far more primal. You barely registered the cool sensation of the leather couch beneath you before Val’s lower arms were sliding under your skirt, his fingers deftly hooking into the delicate g-string he’d gifted you.  

“Mmm, baby, you know that’s my favourite set,” he murmured, his voice dripping with casual possession as the fabric tore under his grip. The shredded lingerie hit the floor with a careless flick of his wrist. “Don’t worry. I’ll buy you plenty more,” he added, voice smooth but laced with that dangerous, predatory edge, as his fingers found the wetness between your legs. His fingers slipped through your folds with a familiarity that sent a helpless shudder up your spine.  

You gasped, your thighs trembling as his fingers danced over your slick heat. He moved with the precision of someone who knew exactly where to touch, how to touch, as each motion was designed to unravel you so. “I…I…ha…ha…” Your words dissolved into breathless moans as he dipped into your core, gathering the wetness there before rubbing slow circles into the swollen nub that made you jolt under his touch.  

“Th-the ca-camera,” you finally managed to choke out, a moan slipping past your lips as he kept circling that sensitive bundle of nerves, your spine arching instinctively toward his touch. You couldn’t stop the sound that escaped from you, something desperate and raw. God, the way he played your body was criminal.  

Val’s breath, hot and tickling the shell of your ear, made you tremble. “Don’t worry about it, baby,” he whispered, his voice a velvety purr that slithered down your spine, pooling low in your belly. “You trust me, don’t you?” His breath brushed against your skin, and you could feel the heat of him, a roaring furnace of want hovering just over you.  

Your mouth opened, another moan tearing from your throat as he pressed two fingers into you, the wet sound of him fucking your slick folds filling the room. “I…I trust you with all my heart,” you whimpered, your hips instinctively grinding against his hand, chasing the pressure, the release. His fingers curled inside you, and you felt the pleasure blooming with each movement, the slow smouldering burn becoming an insistent need.  

“You’re going to come for me, baby,” Val panted, his eyes gleaming with dark hunger, his lips parted, red saliva dripping in thick, viscous lines from the corners of his mouth. “Then you’re going to take daddy’s big cock, aren’t you?” His voice was a low, sultry growl, his fingers quickening their relentless pace, the sound of your arousal slick and obscene.  

All you could do was nod, biting down on your lip to suppress the rising moans threatening to spill from you. Your legs parted wider without thinking, your body offering itself to him as his second set of hands gripped you harder, keeping you in place as he ripped your shirt, skirt, and bra from your body, the sound of fabric tearing like distant thunder.  

The cold air hit your exposed skin, your nipples hardening in response as he held you down, his fingers still driving you closer to that edge, pushing and pulling you into the pleasure with ruthless expertise.  

Your vision blurred, the room narrowing to just the sensations of his fingers, the way they pressed and curled inside you, the pressure building higher, tighter, a coil ready to snap apart. “Ah…ah! F-f-f-” you stammered, each thrust making you shake, your body arching off the couch. His grin widened, sharp and wicked, as he watched you, relishing the sight of you coming undone beneath him.  

“That’s right, baby,” Val cooed, his voice a velvet blade, slicing through the haze of your thoughts as the sound of wet, rhythmic slapping filled the space between you. “Come for daddy.” His chuckle reverberated through you, the final push that sent you careening over the edge.  

With a scream, your body snapped taut, the orgasm hitting you hard and fast. Your heels dug into the couch as you thrashed under his unrelenting touch. He didn’t stop, his fingers still plunging in and out, drawing out ever last wave of pleasure until you were nothing more but a trembling and panting bitch in heat from his hands.  

“Oh, baby,” Val crooned, his eyes gleaming crimson as he watched your chest rise and fall. His lips dripped that unnatural red saliva, a few droplets landing on the curve of your breast. “You look so beautiful when you come.” His voice was thick with desire, but also something darker – something possessive.  

You grinned weakly, basking in the praise despite the exhaustion. Even now, after he’d torn you apart with pleasure, you still craved his approval, his validation. But then you saw him unzip his pants, his cock springing free, thick and veined. Its lilac hue pulsed with each heartbeat, and the tip beaded with evidence of his arousal. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the sight, the sheer size of him still intimidating, even though you’d been here before.  

But then, though the haze of lingering pleasure, reality crept back in – the audition. Your audition. The reason you were even here today.  

“Val,” you began, your voice small, hesitating. You swallowed hard, the words almost painful to get out. “What about the audition?” You wrung your hands together nervously, your body instinctively curling in on itself. “I…I don’t want to be late. I promised I’d be there on time and I don't want to disappoint you…” 

Val smiled, but it wasn’t the warm, comforting smile you’d grown used to. It was indulgent, knowing. “Oh, my precious little girl,” he murmured, his voice laced with saccharine sweetness as his fingers closed around your wrist, pulling you back into his orbit. His touch was warm, reassuring, and for a moment, you forgot why you’d been so anxious. “As long as you’re with me, you don’t have to worry about a thing.” 

Your breath hitched as he guided your hand to his cock, your fingers wrapping around the solid heat of him. He was impossibly thick, your hand dwarfed by his length, and as you felt the weight of him, all thoughts of the audition melted away.  

You knew what he wanted. The air between you crackled with tension, and with a shy, teasing smile, you leaned forward. Your lips brushed the swollen head of his cock, its heat palpable even before you pressed a lingering kiss against it. The musky scent of him filled your senses, the salt of his pre-cum lingering on your tongue as you opened your mouth, taking in the bulbous tip. The taste was intoxicating, heady, and dizzying.  

Before you could react, his fingers twisted into your hair, a sharp tug, forcing your mouth further onto him. You whimpered, hands scrambling to grip his thighs, pleading with the pressure of your fingers that it was too much.  

But he didn’t care. His hips moved forward, relentless, the thick shaft pushing past your lips, stretching them beyond comfort. Your eyes fluttered shut as his cock slid across your tongue, heavy and pulsing. You felt him filling your mouth, pushing deeper and deeper, and the first flutter of panic set in when he hit the back of your throat.  

“You can take more, can’t you, baby?” His voice was a low purr above you, filled with dark, honeyed encouragement. “Daddy knows you’re such a good girl.” 

Your throat convulsed, trying to adjust, your lips already aching from the stretch as he sank deeper. You gagged around him, tears stinging your eyes, but your determination to please him held you in place. The taste of him, the weight of him, filled your senses completely.  

Your nails dug into his skin, a desperate plea to slow down, but he only chuckled, stroking your head as if you were some cherished pet. “Mmm, that’s it. I knew you could handle it.” 

Every inch of him seemed to demand more, pushing past your limits. You couldn’t seal your lips fully around him; he was far too thick. Your mouth couldn’t close properly, but it didn’t matter. The wet, sloppy sounds of your struggle filled the room, along with your gags and his low, satisfied grunts.  

Drool spilled from the corners of your mouth, trailing down your chin, dripping onto your thighs as your gag reflex betrayed you. Your nostrils flared desperately, fighting for air.  

His grip tightened, forcing your head in rhythm with his hips, controlling you completely. He moaned, and the sound vibrated through your core, making your legs squeezed together, desperate for friction. You could hear his pleasure, feel it in the way his cock twitched as it slipped deeper into your throat.  

The room blurred, tears spilling down your face, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you struggled for breath. Everything was too much – his taste, his weight, his voice, the pressure in your throat as he pushed past the brink of your tolerance.  

Then, suddenly, he pulled out, your lungs heaving as you gasped for air. His cock, now slick with your saliva, glistened in the light as it hovered in front of your face. You coughed, a thick strand of spit connecting your lips to his cock snapped away. 

“Such a good little thing, aren’t you?” His voice was darkly sweet, laced with approval. He tugged on your hair, lifting you, repositioning you with ease as if you weighed nothing. His lower hands cupped your ass, lifting you until you were straddling him, his cock nudging insistently at your entrance.  

“I can’t…” Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. You shook your head, trying to regain some control, but even the thought of sitting on him made your body tremble. “Val, please, I can’t take it all.” 

Val laughed softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. “Oh, baby, but you will.” His confidence was undeniable, his grin wicked. Unexpectedly, he gripped your hips and pulled you down, forcing the head of his cock inside you.  

The stretch was immediate, intense, and you gasped, your fingers curling into the lapels of his jacket as your body struggled to accommodate his size. “Oh, fuck,” you whimpered, your walls fluttering around him, trying to adjust to the intrusion. Every nerve was on fire, pleasure and pain melding together in a dizzying mix as his fingers found your nipples, tweaking and pulling until you cried out.  

“That’s right. Let daddy hear how much you love it,” he crooned, his voice a rough whisper. “You’re doing so well for me,” 

You bit your lips, eyes rolling back as he pushed deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, his cock stretching you impossibly wide, filling you in ways that made your head spin. “So big,” you whimpered, hips trembling as you tried to make space for him, but there wasn’t enough.  

He grunted, and with one swift motion, he pushed even deeper, a sharp gasp escaping you. He was at the end of you, pressing into places you didn’t know could be touched, but he didn’t stop. He kept going, inch by agonizing inch, until you were sure he would split you open.  

“Oh, God…oh fuck,” you panted, your hands falling slack against his chest as you focused on breathing through the intense pressure building inside you. He held your waist firmly, his grip possessive, controlling, as if daring your body to resist him.  

“You’re taking me so well,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear, soft encouragement like music to your soul. “Almost there, mi amor.” 

Tears filled your eyes then. 

This was the first time.  

This was the first time Val had ever called you mi amor.

Mi amor.  

My love.  

Love.  

You could feel him inside you, every thick vein, every inch of his cock as it stretched your body to its limits. Your belly bulged slightly where he pressed against you, a faint outline visible as he finally seated him fully inside you.  

With one final hard thrust, he slammed you down onto his cock, and a scream tore from your throat. Your back arched as the shock of it rippled through your entire body. Your insides clenched around him, helpless to do anything else as he filled you completely, his cock a hard, throbbing presence deep within your core.  

“Look at you,” he growled, his voice thick with pride and lust. “You took it all, didn’t you? Such a good girl.” 

You couldn’t respond, couldn’t do anything but tremble in his lap. Your body shook with the effort of accommodating him. The pain slowly dulled, replaced by an overwhelming fullness that sent pulses of pleasure through you. You could feel him deep inside you, so deep it felt like he was in your very soul.  

A sob escaped your lips, half pain, half pleasure, as he grinned up at you, his gold tooth winking at you. “That’s my girl,” he praised, his voice rich with satisfaction.  

Maybe…he could love you now.

You hoped that he loved you.  

Without warning, he lifted your hips, pulling his cock halfway out, and you whimpered at the sudden emptiness. Your pussy clenched, desperate to keep him inside, but he only chuckled, holding you steady.  

“Shh, don’t worry,” he soothed, his lips planting small kisses along your jawline as he spoke. “I’m not done with you yet. Daddy’s going to take care of you.” 

Before you could process his words, he slammed you back down onto his cock, his hips meeting yours with a bruising force. You screamed, hands clawing at his shoulders as he began to thrust in earnest, fucking up into you with a savage intensity. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, your vision going hazy as you lost yourself to the feeling of him inside you.  

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with your broken moans and his ragged grunts. He fucked you hard, mercilessly, his cock driving deep into your core with every thrust. The pressure inside you built, spiralling out of control as your body melted against him, surrendering your soul, your heart, your body, completely.  

“I want you, daddy,” you cried into the air. His cock throbbed inside you, twitching inside of you, the pressure making your walls flutter in response. “Please,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation, a sweet, helpless plea that he loved hearing from you.  

Val’s grin was wide and wicked, that gleaming gold tooth catching the harsh light above. “That’s right, that’s a good girl,” he cooed, his tone low and degrading. The moment the words left his lips, his hips slammed forward with brutal position, pulling you down hard against him once more.  

The scream tore from you before you could stop it, your body overwhelmed by the sensation of being utterly filled. His cock drove so deep inside, you swore you could feel him pressing against your womb. You gasped, chest heaving, as he pounded in to you.  

The wet slap of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with your ragged moans. Every stroke felt like a cruel tease – he would pull away just enough to leave you empty before ramming back into you, your lips red and raw from the relentless friction. You could only hang on, body trembling, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure rippling through you.  

His cock didn’t just touch your cervix; it slammed into it, forcing it open as he claimed every inch of you. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak – only animalistic sounds escaped your lips as he took you over and over again.  

Your limbs went slack, completely giving into his control. Val’s hands gripped you tightly, guiding your body as he pleased. You were a puppet to his desire, limp yet burning alive under his touch. Your head fell forward, and you panted for breath. “Oh fuck, daddy, daddy,” you screamed, nails digging into his shoulders. “I’m so close – so, so, close,” you babbled, the peak just within reach, the sensation building into something unbearable.  

Val’s voice, low and commanding, made your world unravel. “That’s right, come for daddy,” he growled, his hips snapping against you. The harsh slam of his body against yours was all it took to push you over the edge. You tensed, gasping, as the orgasm tore through you, leaving you trembling and slick between your thighs, your mind a haze of white-hot pleasure.  

Your body slumped forward, but Val wasn’t finished. In a swift movement, he pushed you down to the cold floor and flipped you over onto your hands and knees. Your limbs shook, barely able to hold your weight as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking you back toward him. You barely had time to gasp before you felt the molten heat of his cock press against your entrance again.  

His cock surged back into you with unrelenting force, and your eyes widened at the new sensation. From this angle, he felt impossibly big, stretching you even more, his girth filled you completely. “Oh, Val!” You yelped as he slammed your head back against the floor, your cheek pressed against it. Drool escaped your lips and pooled beneath you. Your body quivered as he drove in to you without pause, his cock a burning brand inside your slick, swollen walls.  

Your breath came in ragged bursts, the pleasure too much for your already overstimulated body. Your inner thighs were soaked, your juices smeared against your skin as his cock slid in and out with wet, obscene sounds. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak - just a string of helpless moans escaping your lips as his heavy balls slapped against your hardened clit with each punishing thrust.  

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” you mumbled, barely coherent as your pussy clenched around him again, the rippling spasms of another orgasm threatening to break you apart. But Val didn’t let up, didn’t stop – his grip on your hair only tightened, his hips pounding harder, relentless.  

“Give me another, cariño,” he panted, his words punctuated by the sharp slapping of skin, his balls crashing against your sore, soaked folds. The sharp sting of his balls hitting your sensitive clit made you mewl, your body jerking uncontrollably. You were drowning in pleasure, your body an aching, quivering mess beneath him, unsure how many more times you could come for him.  

“Tell me how good it feels, baby,” Val’s voice was a low growl, his demands sharp and insistent. “Go on, tell me.” 

“It feels good, so good, so good,” you chanted, barely aware of what you were saying. The words spilled from your lips automatically, your mind too fogged by the constant waves of pleasure crashing through you. You could barely see, eyes half-lidded, body vibrating with pleasure as he fucked you deeper into the floor.  

Val’s fingers that were clutching your hair twisted, lifting your head and torso as he changed his angle again. The shift made his cock curve inside you, and a fresh wave of sensation hit you like a bolt of lightening. Your breasts hung heavy, nipples sensitive as his clawed fingers pinched them harder. The pain blurred with pleasure, a delicious sting that you moan in earnest.  

Your thighs trembled, slick with your own juices, as the wet slap of his clock echoed in the room. The slick, wet sounds as he drove in to you, the puddle of your arousal spreading beneath you – you could hear and picture it so vividly in your mind’s eyes.  

As your eyes fluttered open, they caught the blinking red light of the camera across the room. An insidious voice whispered in your mind that the camera was recording every moment of your body’s surrender. The lens must have captured it all – the way your belly bulged slightly, moulding around Val’s cock, the way your cunt greedily pulled him in, stretching to take every inch of him.  

Your head felt weightless, like you were floating in a thick haze. Every inch of your body moved with the rhythm of Val’s relentless thrusts, his cock the sole force driving your muscles. Each push sent a shockwave through you, a reminder of the overwhelming fullness he gave. You never knew it could feel like this – raw, needy, with every nerve igniting under his touch. There was no distance between you now, no barriers.  

“Baby, baby…” Val’s voice rasped near your ear, soft yet demanding. His breath scorched the sensitive tip of your ear. Your hair clung to your damp face as you panted for air. “You love me, don’t you, baby?” His lips ghosted over your neck before brushing against your ear, his cock pressing deep inside, filling every crevice within you. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, the pressure almost too much to bear, but you didn’t want him to stop.  

You craved more.  

“Tell me you love me,” his tongue slid along the curve of your ear, the wet warmth of it sending a shiver down your spine. When he kissed the shell of your ear, it felt like electricity, sharp and consuming. He whispered again, his voice like velvet laced with poison. “Tell me you’ll give me your heart, your soul, cariño.” His words were intoxicating, seeping into you like a drug, making your pulse race.  

“Hah…hah…” You couldn’t catch your breath as he made small, precise thrusts, nudging the edge of your cervix, the pressure so sweet it hurt. “I – I love you, Val, I love you,” you gasped, the need in your voice undeniable. Your body ached for him, craving that raw, reckless connection.  

“Love me enough to sell me your soul,” he murmured against your skin. His hips drew back, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, his cock hitting that devastatingly perfect spot that made your vision black out with pleasure.  

“Yes, yes,” you whimpered, your voice barely more than a breath as you writhed against him, desperate for more. “I’ll give you my soul, I’ll do anything – anything for you, Val.” 

The words spilled from your lips, raw and uncontrolled, as his cock slowly withdrew again, every inch of it dragging along your inner walls, leaving you trembling with the loss of heat and fullness. You whimpered, your hips arching involuntarily, seeking him, needing him to fill that space again.  

Cold metal kissed your neck, the unexpected sensation making your skin prickle, but before you could make sense of it, Val’s large hand slammed down on your shoulder, pressing you hard against the floor.  

“Oh, baby…” His voice dripped with satisfaction, the weight of it thick in your ears. “I knew you’d say yes. You’re one of my favourites.” His hand enveloped the side of your face, your cheek pressing hard into the cool surface beneath you. You felt his other hands lift your hips, and then his cock drove into you again, quick, brutal, carving out a space inside you, like he was determined to make you his in every possible way.  

The slap of his hips against your ass was sharp, the wet sound of your slickness loud in the air, and the stretch of him was so intense, so consuming, it stole every thought from your mind. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, so overwhelming that it bordered on pain. Your muscles twitched, your body teetering on the edge of breaking from the relentless pounding, but you wanted more. You needed more.  

Your gasps turned to cries as he bottomed out inside you, his cock filling you completely. The pressure was unbearable, yet addictive, your body aching for every inch of him. Nothing existed but the feeling of him, the way his cock stretched and claimed you over and over again. 

Warmth flooded your insides as he released his seed, filling you with deep, hot pulses. The sensation made your belly clench, every muscle in your body locking up as pleasure mixed with the heat of his approval, his ownership.  

As his cock softened inside you, the grip he had on you loosened. Your body, finally released from the tension, collapsed against the floor. His seed leaked from you in thick waves, trickling down your thighs, sticky and warm, mixing with the remnants of your own release. Every nerve in your body was spent, and the simple act of breathing felt like it required all the energy you had left.  

“Baby,” Val’s voice cut through the silence like a blade, casual and cold. He nudged your limp body with the tip of his shoe, roiling you onto your back. You stared up at him, dazed, your body sore, mind struggling to keep up. His cock hung loosely, still glistening with the remnants of both of you, but there was no intimacy in his gaze, no softness.  

Only…detachment.  

“That was a splendid show.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. As he spoke, a faint pink mist swirled in the air, wrapping itself around your neck like a collar. A chain, thin and ethereal, extended from it, connecting to his wrist. The weight of it pressed down on you, suffocating, though it barely touched your skin.  

You furrowed your brows, confusion flooding your senses while your body remained sluggish and unresponsive. “V-Val?” You stammered, the word barely a whisper, your throat raw from use and from the screams still lodged inside you.  

His expression shifted, the warmth you had once known dissipated entirely. His eyes curved into crescents, a cruel mockery of joy, and his lips twisted into something sharp and sinister. “I expect you to be at work every day, baby,” he said, his voice dripping with casual cruelty. A chuckle followed, light but empty. “Truly, a pleasure doing business with you.” 

You stared, uncomprehending, as he tucked himself back into his pants with a casual ease, as though nothing had happened, as though you were nothing – not even an afterthought. He patted his clothes, as if brushing away some invisible dust, erasing any trace of the intimacy you thought you had shared.  

“V-Val?” You tried again, your voice cracking, your body trembling as the reality of his words began to sink in. The warmth from his touch, from the act you once thought was love, had already cooled, leaving only a hollow ache. You could feel the crust of his seed drying against your skin, flaking away like something discarded, forgotten.  

His response was swift and brutal. “You work for me now, baby,” he crooned, bending down to meet your gaze as though you were a child who couldn’t quite understand. His hand came down on your head, not with affection, but with condescension, a pat that made your skin crawl. “Now, clean yourself up. The next actors need to use this set.” 

The words crashed into you, sharp and final, and before you could gather the strength to respond, he turned away, his footsteps echoing as he moved toward the door. The sound of the latch clicking shut rang in your ears, the finality of it stealing the breath from your lungs.  

For a moment, you were paralyzed, your mind swirling into a storm of chaos, trying desperately to make sense of the sudden emptiness where warmth had been. 

Slowly… 

Painfully… 

You tried to sit up.  

You tried – oh, you tried, but your body screamed in agony, your stomach and insides raw from the violent way he had… 

You bit your lips. Hard.  

Hard enough to pierce the skin, and a metallic tang blossomed on your tongue.  

He had used you.  

“V-Val…” you whimpered, the name slipping from your bloody, broken lips in a stilted, pleading cry. There was no pride left, only desperation. “Val…Val…” Your voice cracked as tears welled up in your eyes, hot and uncontrollable, spilling down your cheeks in silent rivers. You crawled toward the door, your legs too weak to stand, every movement a reminder of his cruelty, the soreness a mark of how easily he had discarded you.  

“Val…” You sobbed, your throat tight, your breaths coming in shallow gasps. Each attempt to call his name was met with silence, the room pressing in on you, the walls looming over you, the door an impenetrable barrier. The hollow thud of your palm against the cold, unforgiving floor was the only sound left as you clawed your way forward, begging for something you knew you’d never get.  

The truth slithered into your mind, cold and unbearable.  

He was gone.  

He had never cared. 

You weren’t special.  

You had never been.  

A bitter sob tore through you, and as the tears flowed freely, the thought struck you like a knife to the chest.  

He never once told you he loved you… 

...had he?

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

[r0ugesun]

Hoax

Continuation of this

Taglist: @jhroseok @nicejulie94 @bibiscarn @xcinnamonmalfoyx @sapphiresandferrari @shamidreamer @sapphirelegacy @minaxcarter @fandomsinthegalaxies @g-cf2020

Special thanks to my wife @moonstruksandco and thank you to everyone who requested pt 2 I hope you enjoy ✨

The first time I uploaded this it got flagged so let’s try it again -_-

Warnings: hurt/comfort unprotected p in v sex slight breeding kink soft! Aemond

Weeks passed without a word from Aemond. The House of Kisses continued its usual hum of activity, but you couldn't shake the emptiness that had settled in your heart.

Each day blended into the next, the routine of the brothel offering little distraction from the ache of his absence.

You missed his sharp wit, his icy demeanor that softened only for you, and the way his touch had made you feel alive. Every night, as you lay in bed with another, you found yourself picturing Aemond, your last moments together, the memory of his kiss, his touch, the way he had looked at you.

The other girls noticed your change in demeanor. They whispered among themselves, casting sympathetic glances your way. Even the madam, usually so stern, seemed to tread more carefully around you, offering a comforting pat on the shoulder or a few kind words when she could.

One particularly lonely evening, as the wind howled outside and rain lashed against the windows, you found yourself in the common room, staring into the flickering flames of the fireplace. The warmth did little to chase away the chill that had settled in your bones.

You hugged your knees to your chest, lost in thought, when the door creaked open. Sylvie entered, her expression one of concern.

"You've been like this for weeks," she said, taking a seat beside you. "You barely smile anymore."

You sighed and turned to face her. "I actually let myself believe he was different. A common whore and a prince... I've been the biggest fool."

She gave you a sympathetic smile, reaching out to take your hand.

"I understand truly. But you can't let this consume you. The House of Kisses needs you, and so do I."

You squeezed her hand in return, appreciating her support. "I know. It's just... I've been alone my whole life, and I don't know any other way to live. I thought that by doing this work, I might find solace in the intimacy, but it only made me feel more alone then I ever have. But when he came along, when he smiled only at me, laughed only with me, and shared his pain openly, it made me feel lighter. It made the trail of suffering l've walked seem worth it, if it meant the journey led to him."

Sylvie nodded, her eyes thoughtful. "Men like Aemond Targaryen are complicated. They're used to getting what they want, and when things get difficult, they often run. However, you must not place your life on hold. You must remain strong, both for yourself and for those who care for you."

You nodded, absorbing her words. "You are right. It is simply difficult to let go."

Sylvie gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Take it one day at a time. And remember, you are not alone."

You managed a small smile. "Thank you, Sylvie. For everything."

The next morning, the serenity of the House of Kisses was disrupted by an unexpected visitor. The heavy oak door swung open, and the room fell silent as Aemond strode in, his presence commanding immediate attention. His silver hair was slightly disheveled from the rain, and his usual composed demeanor seemed frayed at the edges. He looked around the room, his single eye scanning the faces until it landed on you.

You stood rooted to the spot, your heart pounding in your chest. His gaze softened, a flicker of something you couldn't quite place crossing his features.

"Aemond," you whispered, barely audible over the crackling fire.

He crossed the room in long strides, stopping just inches from you. "I need to speak with you," he said, his voice low and urgent. "In private."

Sylvie gave you a reassuring nod before slipping away, leaving the two of you alone.

You felt the tension in the air as he searched your eyes, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you both. Finally, you broke the silence, your voice tinged with a mix of anger and hurt.

"What do you want, Aemond?"

He took a deep breath, his expression shifting to one of pleading. "Y/n." he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know I have wronged you, but I cannot bear being away from you any longer"

Your heart ached at his words, but you held your ground, refusing to let your emotions show. "It's not that simple," you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. "You cannot just stroll in here and expect everything to be forgiven."

"I know," he said, his voice breaking. "But please, y/n, give me a chance to make things right."

His vulnerability took you by surprise, and for a moment, you saw the boy beneath the armor, the one who longed for redemption. But your anger still burned, a barrier between you and the possibility of reconciliation.

"Why should I believe you?" you asked, your eyes searching his face for any sign of deceit.

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "Because I love you"

His words hung in the air, and you felt your resolve waver. You searched his face, looking for any hint of insincerity, but all you saw was raw emotion, a vulnerability he rarely showed.

"Aemond," you began, your voice softer now, "You abandoned me as if I didn't mean anything, and I was left to pick up the pieces."

He dropped his hand, a pained expression crossing his features. "I know l've hurt you, and I don't deserve your forgiveness. But I am willing to do whatever it takes to prove my love for you.... It was cowardly of me to leave... I thought distancing myself would protect you, protect me. But I was wrong."

You looked away, the flickering flames of the fireplace reflecting in your eyes. "I don't know if I can go through that pain again, Aemond. Loving you was like dancing on a knife's edge."

Aemond took a step closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

"I can't promise that it will be easy, but I can promise that I will never leave you again."

The sincerity in his eyes, the rawness of his plea, chipped away at the walls you had built around your heart. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, before finally meeting his gaze "I don't know if I can trust you again Aemond..... but I want to. I want you."

A flicker of hope crossed his face, and he gently placed his hands on your shoulders. "That's all I ask," he murmured, leaning in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away.

But you didn't. Instead, you closed the remaining distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, filled with all the emotions you had kept bottled up for weeks. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, a silent promise of his devotion.

In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

There was only the two of you, tangled in a web of passion and pain, hope and forgiveness.

Aemond's grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as if he was afraid you might vanish.

You could feel the intensity of his need, the desperation in his touch, and it mirrored your own longing. The kiss grew more fervent, more demanding, as if trying to make up for all the lost time and words unspoken.

Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling in the silken strands, pulling him closer still. He groaned into your mouth, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that left you breathless, a heady mix of desire and yearning that threatened to consume you both.

Aemond broke the kiss just long enough to trail his lips down your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. "I thought I had lost you," he murmured between kisses, his voice rough with emotion. "Every moment away from you was torture."

You tilted your head back, giving him better access as his lips moved to your neck, planting heated kisses along your pulse. "You hurt me. Aemond." You you breathed, even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch.

"I know," he replied, his voice a raw whisper. "And I will make it up to you, by proving my love. Just... let me show you."

His words, combined with the feel of his lips and the intensity of his touch, broke down the last of your defenses. You pulled him back up to capture his lips once more, pouring all your conflicting emotions into the kiss. It was a dance of need and forgiveness, a tentative step towards healing.

Aemond responded with equal fervor, his hands roaming over your body as if trying to memorize every inch of you. You could feel the raw power of his emotions, the depth of his regret and the strength of his love. It was overwhelming, intoxicating, and you found yourself getting lost in the moment, in him.

The kiss seemed to last forever, yet not long enough. When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads pressed together, sharing the same ragged breaths. "I missed you," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the crackling fire.

"And I you," Aemond replied, his eye filled with a mixture of relief and determination. "I will never let you go again, y/n. This, I swear."

Aemond's grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as if he was afraid you might vanish. You could feel the intensity of his need, the desperation in his touch, and it mirrored your own longing.

The kiss grew more fervent, more demanding, as if trying to make up for all the lost time and words unspoken.

Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling in the silken strands, pulling him closer still. He groaned into your mouth, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that left you breathless, a heady mix of desire and yearning that threatened to consume you both.

Aemond's hands began to wander, sliding down your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. You could feel the heat of his body, the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your chest.

His kiss grew more insistent, more urgent, as if he was trying to convey everything he couldn't say in words.

Your own hands roamed over his shoulders, down his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles beneath your fingertips. You could sense the restraint in his touch, the way he held himself back, but you didn't want restraint. You wanted him, all of him.

"Aemond," you murmured against his lips, your voice a plea.

He responded with a growl, his hands tightening on your hips as he pulled you even closer.

His mouth moved from your lips to your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. "I need you," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. "I need you, all of you y/n."

You shivered at his words, your body responding to the raw need in his voice.

"Then take me," you whispered back, your own voice trembling with desire.

"Show me how much you need me."

Aemond's control snapped. He lifted you off the ground, his strength evident as he carried you across the room.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, never breaking the kiss. He laid you down on a nearby settee, his body covering yours, his kisses growing more desperate, more demanding.

You matched his intensity, your hands tugging at his clothes, wanting to feel his skin against yours. He followed suit, his fingers deftly undoing the fastenings of your dress, baring your skin to his touch.

The air around you seemed to crackle with electricity, The air around you seemed to crackle with electricity, the tension between you palpable.

When you were both finally free of your clothes, he paused, his eye drinking in the sight of your naked form. "You're beautiful," he said barely above a whisper, his voice filled with awe. "So beautiful."

You blushed under his intense gaze, but you didn't look away.

"And you," you whispered back, reaching up to touch his face. "You are mine."

His lips crashed back onto yours, he pressed his cock into your entrance and slammed his hips into you, pressing you into the cushions. The heat of his skin against yours, the weight of him, the way he moved everything about him was intoxicating.

You lost yourself in the sensation, in the way he made you feel Every touch, every kiss, every breath was a declaration of his love, his need, his desperation to make things right.

"Ah-ah Aemond!" You moaned desperately.

Aemond's body pressed firmly against yours, his movements deliberate yet fierce, creating a rhythm that matched the desperate beat of your hearts.

He groaned at the sound of you moaning his name in his ear "F-fuck I missed you"

Each thrust was a blend of passion and longing, as if he was trying to erase every second he spent apart trom you.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring and claiming every inch of you with a fervor that left you breathless and wanting more.

His lips left yours to trail hot kisses down your neck, each touch igniting a trail of fire across your skin. You arched into him, craving every bit of his attention, every whisper of his touch.

"Aemond" you breathed, your voice a mixture of pleasure and need, "please don't stop."

He growled softly in response, his eyes dark with desire. "I won't" he promised, his voice husky and raw.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding you to meet his thrusts, making the connection between you both even more intimate.

"Gods..." the feel of your wet cunt squeezing him was almost enough to break him, he spread your thighs even further and rubbed harsh circles on your clit.

you could feel every nerve in your body tingling, every sensation heightened by his touch. The world outside ceased to exist as you became lost in the pleasure of the moment.

"Yes yes just like that" you mewled.

The way your breasts bounced up and down as he fucked into you greedily made his head spin, each sound, each touch, a reminder of the depth of your connection.

Aemond's hands on your hips were a masterful blend of authority and reverence as he thrust into you with an insatiable intensity.

Each deliberate motion drove you further into the luxurious cushions, the heat of his body slick and urgent against yours. His hands explored every inch of your skin with a possessive, almost worshipful touch.

One hand slid down to grip your thigh firmly, spreading your folds apart with a tender, commanding pressure.

"Speak to me, my love," he demanded, his voice a deep, velvety rumble that sent shivers cascading through your entire being.

"What is it that you need from me?"

You arched into him, your breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps.

"I need you, Aemond. Every part of you. I need you to make me yours, completely."

A growl of approval rumbled from his chest as he shifted his focus. feeling the rhythmic pulse of your arousal with a fervent need. His thumb brushed over your clit with a slow, teasing pressure, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from you.

"You are exquisite," he murmured, his breath hot and tantalizing against your ear. "I am utterly captivated by you."

With a desperate, almost frantic need, his other hand descended, wrapping around his balls with a firm, practiced grip. His fingers stroked and fondled with an urgent, intensity, each movement a testament to his own escalating desire.

"I must feel you cum" he panted, his voice strained and raw with emotion. "I need to experience your surrender."

The sensation of his touch, both on your body and his own, was electric, igniting every nerve with heightened pleasure. His thrusts grew more fervent, his movements a relentless dance of passion that drove you both to the precipice of ecstasy.

Your moans were a desperate plea, your voice trembling with the depth of your longing.

"Please, Aemond. need you. I need you to spill inside me. Don't stop."

"Gods..." the feel of your wet cunt squeezing him was almost enough to break him, he spread your thighs even further and rubbed harsh circles on your clit.

His ministrations on your clit grew more insistent, his thumb pressing and rubbing with a rhythm that matched his powerful thrusts. The build-up of pleasure as a formidable wave, crashing over you both with breathtaking force.

As you reached the peak, your cries of his name were filled with raw, unfiltered need, your body shivering uncontrollably with the intensity of the release.

Aemond's grip on his cock tightened, his movements becoming almost frantic as he sought his own release.

With a final, powerful thrust, he came inside you, his cock throbbing as he deposited his dragon seed deep within.

His breath came in desperate gasps as he held his cock in place, his fingers pressing firmly against your clit to ensure that his seed might take hold.

He collapsed beside you, his chest heaving with deep, uneven breaths. He pulled you into his embrace, encircling you with a protective, tender warmth.

His fingers traced soothing patterns over your damp skin, his touch a gentle contrast to the urgency of moments before. His voice, husky and laden with emotion, was a tender whisper against your ear.

"Look at me" he murmured, his gaze intense and filled with unspoken promises. "I love you with every fiber of my being. I need you beside me always, now and forever."

You gazed up at him, your eyes reflecting the profound depth of affection and yearning "I love you too, Aemond. Forever. I need you just as much."

You were bound together now nothing else in the world mattered but this.

Cradled in his arms, you savored the warmth and intimate connection of your shared moment, both lost yourselves in the profound, unspoken love that enveloped you.

his breathing heavy and ragged, yet his touch was tender as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

As you lay together, the remnants of passion still tingling between you, you felt a renewed sense of hope. The road to healing would be long and fraught with challenges, but in that moment, with Aemond by your side, you felt ready to face it all, together.

[heat---lightning]

Orc Story pt 3

The old Orc throws a pelt over you. "Why are you on your knees? Are you exhauste, do you need food and sleep?" You're too frightened to look up, let alone answer. "Speak! You are my guest!" Guest? You think to yourself, you really have no idea how these particular Orcs behave.

"G-guest?" You finally squeak out a response

"Yes, you fool! Why else would I have brought you here!"

Your confusion is mixed with anger "You attacked the caravan I was in! You stole me! YOU LICKED MY REAR END!"

The old Orc began bellowing with laughter "Of course I did! As for your friends, we have been hunted for months! We do what we must to live!"

"Then why did you lick me!" You shout without thinking!

The laughter continues "That is what concerns you!? I could smell it on you, you smelt of lust, I could pick it out over the fray, I had to taste you to see if I was correct, and I was!"

You immediately feel shame wash over you like a burning wave.

"Look up" the old Orc said, his voice lower and less jovial now.

You oblige. Your eyes travel up his legs, following the hair of his legs that connected with what you could only describe as a forest of pubic hair. A pair of large testicles, wafting scent and would could swear was almost steam, draped over them a thick penis, foreskin intact, not yet hard, crowned by even more hair. Your eyes stop there.

"I said look UP" his tone catching you off guard. He was right about you and he knew it. You make eye contact with the old Orc.

"You are more useful to this clan alive. I will not force you to do anything you do not want. We can use you for trade or ransom. But while you are here I will see to your safety. Now come eat. When you are done lay with me if you wish."

You finished eating what was there in the room, dried meat and bread mostly, some kind of alcohol. You muster the courage to speak "You were right. Earlier, about what you said about me. You're not from here are you? The other Orc clans have uneasy peace with the humans of this land, it's not entirely uncommon for a human and Orc wi lay with one another, I can't say that I haven't been curious"

The old Orc raises from his bed, intrigued by what you said of peace, he pushes that to the back of his head for the moment, his immediate attention is on you now. "You are considerably smaller than I am, I fear your people think us all brutes. I shall try and be gentle I can."

[sunrenity]

study break ✶ park jongseong

s  —  your boyfriend wants you to take a study break and spend time with him instead.

p  bf! jay x fem!reader  .  g  fluff, est relationship, comfort  .  w  stress, mentions of exams  .  wc  459 (0.4k)  .  bookshelf

note  — i made this mainly for myself cuz i'm stressed out for my exams which are due in like one week !! 😁

YOU SAT HUNCHED OVER your desk, the textbooks and notes strewn around you like a fortress of knowledge. the exam was looming, and you had been learning non-stop, determined to master every detail. your eyes were tired, your back ached, and yet you pressed on, convinced that one more hour might make all the difference. anxiety twisted in your stomach, your mind racing with all the things you still didn’t know.

the door creaked open, and you glanced up to see jay leaning against the frame, his familiar smile spreading warmth through the room. "hey," he said softly, stepping inside. "how about a break?"

you shook your head, eyes returning to the dense paragraphs in front of you. "i can't, jay. i need to keep studying."

he crossed the room in a few strides, his presence a comforting distraction. "you've been at this for hours," he murmured, gently lifting a book from your hands. "you need to rest."

you sighed, the pressure in your chest building. "but the exam... what if i don’t know enough? what if i fail?"

jay knelt beside you, his eyes full of understanding. "you won’t fail. you’ve been working so hard. but stressing yourself out like this isn’t going to help. come on, just a little break. let's get some fresh air, or watch something funny. you'll study better after a rest."

reluctantly, you let him pull you up from your chair. the tension in your muscles began to ease as he led you out of the room. jay’s fingers intertwined with yours, a subtle promise that he’d be there with you, supporting you through the stress.

in the living room, he settled on the couch, patting the space beside him. you hesitated for a moment before joining him, sinking into the cushions. jay wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "see? isn’t this better?"

you nodded, resting your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing your frayed nerves. "but i’m so worried, jay. what if i mess up?"

"you won’t," he said firmly, his hand gently rubbing your back. "you’ve got this. and even if you make a mistake, it’s not the end of the world. we’ll get through it together."

the sincerity in his voice brought tears to your eyes. as the minutes passed, you felt the weight of the day’s stress lifting, replaced by the simple joy of being with him. jay pressed a kiss to your forehead. "you’ll do great on your exam, i know it. but you also need to take care of yourself."

you smiled, feeling lighter than you had all day. "thank you, jay."

"anytime," he whispered, holding you tighter. and in that moment, surrounded by his warmth, you believed him.

© sunrenity , don't plagiarize, steal or repost my work on any platform !

[cobaltperun]

Genius (6) - Genius

Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader

Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next part

Word count: 2.2k

-Won't you tell me all your secrets about how you exploit their weakness, I think you're a fucking genius,-

Cairo sat in her garden, with her legs lifted onto the second chair. She had her eyes closed as the soft wind blew in her face. She was smiling, happier than she’s been in a long time.

She was seen. You were seeing her, the real her, and you were starting to see her trauma as well, all the things she wished she could get over, or tell you about, yet didn’t. She caressed the spine of Jules Verne’s book, she remembered how captivated the two of you were by it, by the simple idea of traveling the world. Of leaving this place and seeing everything, absolutely everything the world had to offer. Would she be able to do it? That was one of her dreams, fulfilling the trip around the world in eighty days, well, she doubted she could see everything in eighty days, but start from one trip around the world and then pick another route.

Would you be willing to go with her? Did you love her? You came after her, you went out to look for her, well so did Winnie. You went back into the forest and brought the roses to her backyard and she opened her eyes to look at them. It’s been one day since you brought the pots and planted them, hoping they would sprout roots.

If a wild rose could be moved, if it could be released from the roots that kept it tied to a place that wouldn’t let it grow and blossom, maybe she could do the same. Was it too late to stop whatever was going on with Miller? Did she already cross a line? Did he have expectations of her right now? She still desired the love he described, that madman’s love that she felt she’s been missing her whole life, but now that she thought about it she thought about your arms around her yesterday, when you finished working with the roses.

Was that her madman’s love? How did you feel about her? She wasn’t sure, but she hoped, and if she wanted to be fought for, she would fight for you as well. She got up, and went inside, heading right for her room where her laptop was. She got comfortable, opened a blank word document and began typing. She put all of her feelings, all of her desires on the page, releasing the feelings she otherwise wasn’t sure how to handle. How would you act if you knew how much she wanted you right now? How much she craved to feel your arms around her again? And in the midst of all of those thoughts she dared to let her mind wander to how your touch would feel on her bare skin. How mad could you drive her? How passionate were you? How about her? She’s never done it, she’s only read about it, how assertive would she be? She didn’t know, but she wanted to find out with you.

~X~

You sat in your bedroom, your guitar in your arms as you played the acoustic cover of ‘She is’ by The Fray, you didn’t know why that song came to your mind out of blue, but you knew who you wanted to play it for.

“She is everything I need, that I never knew I wanted,” you sang softly, closing your eyes and pulling the notes and lyrics from memory. How long has it even been since you’ve listened to that song? Yet you still remembered it down to the smallest details.

The shakiness of Cairo’s breath as the two of you hugged, the slightest tremor in her voice, the soft whisper, you couldn’t get it out of your head, any of it. She was intoxicating and it was maddening how much of an affect an innocent night of nothing but reading made you notice all the things you weren’t sure you were meant to notice.

She was your childhood friend. You were trying to rebuild that friendship.

“This is going to bring me to my knees, I just want to hold you close to me,” yet you still sang, still knew full well that your heart was beyond reason, that you could no longer see her as a friend. Your mind demanded control over your feelings, demanded that you stop and reconsider, that you take into consideration how fast this was all going. You haven’t been back home for a month and already you were having a turmoil over your feelings for your childhood best friend.

But your heart overpowered your mind and the thoughts of Cairo brought forth a melody you were hearing for the first time, one coming from your heart, filled with longing, desire, all the emotions you still weren’t sure you should share with Cairo.

Would she accept them? Or would she deny the pull she had on you and demand to stay friends?

“Break me down, shape me into something just for us,” you tried adding lyrics to the tune you were creating.

~X~

The next morning you arrived at school a bit earlier than you were supposed to, you just had a bit too much energy this morning and figured you might as well wait for the classes to start at the school instead of at home. You got off your motorcycle and began taking the protective gear off. The school was close, but, you knew better than to take unnecessary risks on the motorcycle. It doesn’t matter how short the ride is, but if you get into an accident or not, and you can always get into an accident, no matter how careful you are. Not all drivers were as careful and that made protective gear mandatory to you.

“Y/N! Hey,” you heard Winnie yelling and looked behind you to see her and Cairo walking across the parking lot. Knowing them they were going to grab a bite.

“Hey!” you took your helmet off and grinned at her before you turned to Cairo, your grin morphing into a softer smile. “Welcome back, Cairo,” you skipped school on Tuesday, but you went yesterday, unlike her.

“I’d say it’s good to be back, but I’d be lying,” she smiled back, shifting her weight so she was leaning more on her left foot and raising her right knee up a bit for a moment, all the while keeping a hand resting on her hip. She dressed a bit different than what you were used to, thigh highs, a shorter skirt and the sweater she had on hugged her body almost a bit too perfectly and you resorted to imagining rather unappealing things to keep your mind from wandering because no, you were not about to become a horny teenager now. No! You wanted none of those thoughts right now!

No matter how attractive Cairo was regardless of what she was wearing.

“You okay, Y/N?” Winnie almost sang, she knew exactly what was on your mind, or what you were trying to keep from being on your mind and she had no intentions of helping you.

“Yup! Perfectly okay, thanks for asking,” you coughed to cover up a slight crack in your voice. ‘Damn it, Cairo, have mercy,’ you thought when you noticed the smile on Cairo’s lips turning into a small smirk.

“If you say so. It’s totally okay if you aren’t fine, you know?” Winnie reassured you and closed the distance so she could pat you on the back. “Wanna go grab a bite with us?” she offered and there was no way you’d accept. You’d be in for a teasing of your life and you still weren’t entirely sure Cairo dressed up like that for anyone, let alone you.

“I’ll skip, I don’t have the first period off,” which was true as well. Going with Cairo and Winnie would mean skipping class, and you kinda needed to listen to this one, otherwise you’d fail it miserably.

“Aw, and I looked forward to teasing you,” Winnie pouted, as if she was actually that disappointed. Actually, she might be just that disappointed.

“Right, I was really looking forward to that,” you said blankly and then turned your attention back to Cairo. “So, wanna ditch the village with me on Saturday?” you asked, a bit too hopefully for your own taste.

“Of course,” Cairo nodded, she approached you and fixed the collar of your jacket a bit. “I’ve been meaning to ask you the same thing,” she admitted, lifting her chin up while you were looking down. Just a few inches separated her lips from yours and you swallowed hard.

“Really?” you managed to speak up, your throat suddenly felt really dry.

“Yeah, I wanted you to take me on a trip, just the two of us,” she admitted, and you nodded.

“I will, I promise you,” you whispered, for a moment forgetting Winnie was even there.

“Ooh, can I come and watch?” Winnie suddenly broke whatever bubble you and Cairo created and you took a step back as Cairo glared at Winnie. The shit-eating grin on Winnie’s face told both of you she deemed the interruption and the potential consequences of it worthy.

You cleared your throat and took a few more steps away from Cairo. “Right, I’ll see you two later,” you waved at them and headed toward the school, unaware of what was about to transpire.

~X~

Cairo watched you go, a small smile on her face gave her away, but then she heard Winnie chuckling and raised an eyebrow. She already had a bad feeling as Winnie approached her with a teasing smile on her face.

“Oh no,” she sighed, not sure what to expect from her best friend. Whatever it was, the mischievous look in her eyes made Cairo more than a little worried.

“Oh, Y/N, I can’t wait for you to take me,” Winnie moaned sensually and pushed her breasts up, her lips parted as she went down a bit only to slowly, with her hips swaying slightly straighten up.

Cairo blushed furiously. “I didn’t say that, and especially not like that,” she looked back toward the direction you went in and felt relief at you not being anywhere in sight. “And take me on a trip, not take me,” she muttered as Winnie smirked at her.

“Mhm,” Winnie didn’t believe her, that was clear and much to Cairo’s horror she got on your motorcycle. “Yes, Y/N, fuck me on your bike! Yes, Baby, get that engine purring!” she was leaning forward, jokingly raising her hips up and winking at Cairo.  

“You need to get off her motorcycle!” she pleaded, already embarrassed enough. “And I don’t want that!” even if she did, you were very protective of your motorcycle, there was no way you’d bend her over it and fuck her.

“Maybe, but you thought about it,” Winnie finally got off your motorcycle but the teasing certainly wasn’t over.

“I didn’t,” Cairo denied it a bit too quickly, and maybe the thought did cross her mind, but again, you wouldn’t agree to it, so it didn’t matter. “And weren’t you all for wagyu beef?” she tried to remind Winnie that you weren’t the one she was supposed to seduce, even though she remembered Winnie changed her mind, but she needed something to get Winnie’s mind off you and Cairo fucking on your motorcycle.

Winnie waved her off with a playful scoff. “That’s in the past. You, my Sweet darling, need someone young and owning a bike,” she teased, brushing her fingers over the handles of your motorcycle and then pretending to rev it up. “This bike in particular, just so we’re clear,” she smirked.

Cairo rolled her eyes at that. “Let’s just go and eat,” she hoped the promise of food would make Winnie stop already, seeing as nothing else was working.

“You’re paying this time,” Winnie nudged her.

“Only if you stop teasing me about Y/N,” Cairo felt hopeful, she should have known better.

Winnie looked through her bag and fished out her wallet. “Would you look at that, looks like you’re out of luck.”

This was hell. She had no doubt about that.

~X~

That day after the classes she dropped by the post office and looked around for the mailman assigned to her part of the village, meaning he also delivered to your place as well. “Hey, I was wondering if you’d be willing to do me a favor?” she said with a polite smile and two hundred dollars peaking right for him to see.

“Maybe,” he said slowly and she slid the money and an envelope across the table. “I need you to deliver this, not to the address written on the letter, but to another address instead,” she slipped another paper, this one with your address on it.

What would you do? Wait until Saturday and bring the letter to her at a convenient moment, or would you use the chance to come and see her? She wanted to see if you were as eager to spend time with her as she was to spend it with you. If you felt the madness she felt, or if you could resist it.

She hoped you wouldn’t be able to. She hoped you longed for her as much as she longed for you.

A/N: Well, a short one, but sometimes these happen as well. But, would you look at that, we're halfway done!

Taglist:@deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund @tekanparadiae

@alexkolax @ioveyouyouloveme @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh @autorasexy

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Burnt Out 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, anxiety/stress, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Robert Laing

Summary: you're stressed out and ready to escape, but the way out might not be as glamourous as it seems.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You flinch as you peel away the hangnail. Ugh. You need to stop doing that. Your hands are a mess. Short nails, brittle too. The skin and cuticles are fraying but not on their own. You can’t help it. A nervous habit. Stress. 

You’re not sure how much more you can take. It’s not a choice. Nothing in life is your choice. You didn’t even choose to be alive. Your parents always treated you like your existence was forced even on them. That barely matters. You haven’t seen either of them in years. 

You still your hands and go back to typing. If you don’t get this done, you’ll be in for another lecture from Mr. Brenner. ‘You haven’t finished the group reservation? You’re going to mess everything up again!’ 

Yeah, yeah. That’s how it goes. You can’t do anything right. It’s probably why you ended up here. You deserve this purgatory. 

As you import the files from the travel site and review for discrepancies, you hear the doors. Great, you’ll come back to it. You check the time. It’s not even noon. More bad news and the messenger is the first to be shot. 

You glance over the front desk and do a double take. Guilt speckles over your cheeks. The man is handsome. Tall and trim. You don’t know why you notice but you do. His blonde hair is neatly parted, yet there’s a small wave to it. He wears a fine grey suit which probably costs as much as a week of your minimum wage. 

It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t even occur to you. You deal with all sorts. The traveling businessmen, the body builders in town for the convention, and even those meeting for some forbidden tryst. Hotels are not the place for judgement. 

“Hello, sir, welcome to Sapphire Suites,” you smile. You usually only bother when Brenner is around to fume down your neck. “Do you have a reservation?” 

“I do,” he answers in his lilted accent. Oh. Deadly. “I understand I’m well ahead of check-in, however, I only came to inquire if I might leave my bags with you until then.” 

Polite and he reads the fine print. What more could a girl ask for? Usually, you’d be annoyed. Why would you come so early? Our housekeeping isn’t even done their first floor. Not today. He’s too pleasant to be irritated. 

“Well, I can certainly see if your rooms are ready. We weren’t booked up last night so it’s possible.” You offer. 

“That would be wonderful, so long as it doesn’t put you out,” he steps up to the desk as the wheels of his bag quiet. “Robert Laing. I believe I’ve got the executive.” 

You already know it’s ready. It’s expensive and rarely booked on weeknights. It’s only a Tuesday. 

“Let me see, Laing...” 

“L-A-I-N-G,” he spells it out. “No one expects the I.” 

“Oh, thanks,” you backspace and put in the proper spelling. Yep, it’s green. “Good news, it’s set. I just did the keycards so I’ll go grab yours.” 

You go back to the carefully organized folio, arranged by room number. You spent your first hour swipe and coding each one. You take his and bring it back with the liability form. 

“If you don’t mind, there is a waiver,” you put the paper down. “I’ll need a piece of ID as well. And a credit card.” 

“Of course,” he slides out his wallet and provides both cards. You take them as he looks over the form.  

You go to scan both and upload them into his file. You return them as he signs with a metallic pen, slipping it into his front pocket before sliding the page across. You thank him and scan that as well. You come back to hand over his keys and give him the spiel. 

You retract your hand as he looks down at it. You try to hide your chafed and cracking fingertips. You’re mess. Your name tag is barely hanging on and the scarf is crooked and only half under your collar. 

“Your WIFI and room service details are in here,” you point to the sleek little folio with his door cards. “Everything you need should be in your room. The pool is behind me and the private spa rooms can be booked by calling down. Oh—did you need a parking pass, sir?” 

“Please, Robert works for me,” he insists, “I flew in so not driving. Might I put in a request?” 

“Um, okay?” You stare at him anxiously.  

“Any recommendations for in-town activities? I’m egregiously early for the conference and I get restless pent up in hotels,” he drawls. “Perhaps a shopping center or if you’re permitted, any worthwhile bistros?” 

“Geez, I forgot to mention, there’s Ruby’s. The restaurant attached to us, just that way when you head out the doors. They have a patio but it’s getting a bit chilly. And er, the bar, The Gem, that’s on the second floor.” 

“Wonderful,” he covers the key folder with his hand. 

You smile. If Mr. Brenner was there to witness your immaculate customer service, he might just lay off of you. Or he’d ask why you didn’t smile more often.  

“You’ve been amazingly helpful, dear,” he says. “I do hope the day doesn’t prove very hectic for you.” 

“Thank you, sir—Um, Robert,” you correct yourself as his brow tweaks. 

“And you...” he leans forward to read your name tag. “Beautiful name.” 

“Thanks,” you swallow dryly, “enjoy your stay.” 

Finally, he leaves you. You watch him go, his bag rolling after his long strides. You don’t move until he’s closed up in the elevator. You want to cringe. You’re a mess and on top of that, you’re awkward to boot. It’s not that you don’t want to be good at your job, it’s that you hate it, and you’re no good with people. But work is work. 

You retreat into the back room and dig in your purse. Your lips are chapped and raw. You layer on the medicated balm and sigh. You take out the little daisy-shaped mirror and check your reflection. Aren’t you so stupid? Look at you. A man like that would never waste his time with a front desk worker ant, let alone someone so repulsive. 

[puripurin]

Idea from @littlekohai77. You are the real G for this. It was altered so that it could fit this story, BUT there will be one where cute yan monster's darling meets his mom. Reader is female.

— Sometimes, you wish you had the balls to say no to your friends. This was seriously not cool of them... along with the other times. This time, though, you finally had the realization that your friends are shitty people because you are tied up to a tree. In the middle of the forest. For like, 4 hours now.

Darkness was starting to set in, and you were hungry because before this, you only ate granola bars and drank water. You were also in pain from when you decided to escape and tried to break free, but all you got were rope burns that were painful.

You sighed as you knocked your feet with one another out of sheer boredom. There was no way you were going to make it out alive. Even if you tried screaming (which you'd have done and your throat is extremely hoarse), you were deep into the forest, and you haven't seen a single soul pass by you.

Well, that was until you heard the crunch of leaves, and it seemed it was heading towards you! How lucky you were! You made sure to move around a lot and tried to use your weak voice to bring the person over to you. You were happy until you realized the person you were luring to you wasn't exactly a person.

A horned monser stood in the corner of your eyes. If you could scream, you would've, but you looked away and closed your eyes. It was like it instantly burned into your eyes, with its deep red eyes and short black fur.

As you waited for death, it never came with only a wet nose being pressed on your cheek, and it went lower and lower until it reached your crotch which you closed your legs and twisted your lower half away from it. The monster growled lightly before slasch at your bindings and carried you in his arms. You momentarily celebrated before realizing you were going to probably get eaten to death by this monster. You sighed and thought about your family and not your ex-friends, which made you fall asleep in the monster's arms.

"WOAHHHHH!" The 7 year old boy said in amazement. He was bouncing around in excitement and made you giggle.

"Daddy is super cool! He saved mommy from danger!" This was your son, Aimilios, the child you had with Kaiser, the monster that had saved you. It was a bit too early to put this out there, but Aimilios was too excited and interrupted.

"Okay, okay. Calm down, don't you want to know what happens next?" You reasoned with your child, which made him stop before sitting down close to you in silence and staring like a puppy. You pulled him closer and rubbed his head.

"Now, what happened after...? Oh right!" You chuckled as you reminiscence on the past.

When you woken up, you were covered in a fur sheet, and there was a fire to the side of you, warming you up. It seemed you were now in an abandoned building. Looking around, everything was worn down, but it was clean.

"You. Awake." A low gruff voice made you jump in fear. The monster appeared with a fraying picnic basket in its teeth. You scrambled behind you, only to hit your head on a broken table leg.

"Fuck... that hurts..." You rubbed the area and brought down your hand only to see blood. Looking back, there was blood on the area that your head it, and it was slightly sharp.

"Human. Hurt. Self?" It spoke once more before dropping the basket near you and going back into the darkness for something.

When the monster came back, there was a scratched up med kit with a dried blood splatter in its mouth. It sat right in front of you and placed down the kit to take out the bandages.

You carefully watched the monster as it slowly wrapped your head in bandages and then used medical grade tape to make sure it wasn't going to come off...

"And the rest is history. It took a while for me to warm up to your daddy, but when I fell in love, it hit me hard." You kissed his head, but your child had something on his mind.

"But... what about mommy's bad friends?" He looked up at you with his cute little doe eyes.

"Well, it was a couple of months later when you were still in mommy's belly."

You yawned as you walked through the hallways of the abandoned building you were living in with Kaiser. At this point, your pregnant belly was obvious even with the loose clothes you wore. It was 1 pm, and you had just woken up. Kaiser was out hunting food, and you stayed here cleaning up and making the abandoned building more like home.

What you weren't expecting was a bright flashlight being shined in your face. There were a lot of shocked gasps as you covered your eyes.

"Heh, is that really you, [Y/n]?" Now that was one of your ex-friend's voices. He lowered his flashlight and saw your pissed off face.

"Hooo! You're massive now! Huh, look, guys, the skeleton has turned into a whale now. Who's the bum that impregnated you? Hahahaha!" One of the girls joked and mocked you.

"You guys sure have a lot of balls coming back to the forest where one of your ex-friends could have possibly died, and the first thing you do is mock my body and its father?" You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

"Hahaha, you're just a waste of space. Why should we care?" It was almost comical with the way they acted. Were these people humans or cartoon characters?

"Okay, since I don't want to be the one to get blamed when you die, please get the fuck out of this place. Now." You crossed your arms and made your voice firm. Even if they were acting like bitches, you still wanted them to live on with their mistakes.

"Oh? Is this cunt speaking back to us? Guys, should we teach this pregnant cow a lesson." To which all 4 persons agree in unison. The tallest punched you in the face before grabbing you and taking you outside and tied you to a tree. You sighed and shook your head.

"Back to where you were, huh? Not so fiesty now, eh?" One said, and you were contemplating things. Too bad you didn't need to think that far as one of them got thrown to the ground and got badly injured.

"I won't go into detail of what happened, but the aftermath was bad for me. I wasn't able to leave my room until I gave birth to you, only to find out that I couldn't interact with other people and leave the house to get supplies. Ridiculous, right??" You huffed and puffed out your cheeks to make your son feel angry as well.

"But you never step foot outside because you wanted to! They forced you outside!" He pouted and crossed his arms, making him look extremely cute.

"But, if he wasn't there, I would have never gotten to see your cute face. Now it's time to go to sleep. Mommy will make your favorite food in the morning if you do." Instantly, he hopped into bed and snuggled into the sheets with his eyes closed shut.

"Goodnight, Amy." You kissed his forehead before turning off the light and leaving the room.

As you walked down the hallways, you heard footsteps. You smiled and turned around behind you to run towards Kaiser, only to get hit in the head by a hanging piece of metal. Tears pricked your eyes as you bent down in pain.

"Ah... my clumsy wife hurts herself again. How foolish of her..." You slapped Kaiser's leg as he made fun of you again. "You're such a bully!" You sniffled.

"Oh? But don't you like taking this so-called "bully's" cock?" You face flushed in embarrassment, and as if the pain disappeared, stood up and started hitting him in his chest. "Now you're really making me regret teaching you english!!" You turned away from him and pouted.

"Oh, you regret it now? Let's see if you'll regret when I stuff this thick—"

"AHHHH--- LALALA, I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!" You said as you ran away from him.

Anyways 🐀,,, for the introduction for his papa, it is tame because this (y/n) was obscuring most of what happened because be realistic here, are you going to tell a child how you saw one of your friends get mauled in front of your eyes. So, there will be the actual intro post for Kaiser without Aimilios being told the story of how they met.

I thought it would be a fun exercise to do because,,, why not? Belehhhh.

Nir proofread.

[flowercrowngods]

the prompt: rest | rating: G | cw: non-explicit trauma-related insomnia

The steady thrum of the engine is like gentle white noise that not only fills Eddie’s head and smoothes out the frayed edges of consciousness, but runs through his whole body as a comforting presence. It spreads from the hands holding the wheel in a loose, easy grip up his arms and to his shoulders, down his chest where it settles in his gut. That feeling of belonging, of comfort, of familiarity. It leaves him with a smile as he shifts the gear, accelerating a little on the open street.

No one else is out here tonight, and there’s no destination ahead, but his goal has long since been reached.

Part of him wants to roll down the window to feel the breeze in his hair, allow November in just for five minutes, just for the duration of this next song.

Hey, little girl, is your daddy home? Did he go and leave you all alone?

But he won’t, because this moment is not his.

He glances over to the side, catches the split second where the passing street lights make Steve glow golden, his breath even, his face relaxed. His eyes closed, his forehead void of pained frowns. He’s been asleep for an hour.

It mends something inside him, seeing Steve like this, but something splinters all the same.

“What do you need? What can I give you? Please, Steve, you need to sleep. You deserve to rest.”

He remembers asking, tears welling up in his eyes and desperation clawing at his insides, clawing to get out and tear at Steve, tear at him to find out what it is that Eddie can do.

“Can we just— Drive? For a while?”

“Where to?”

“Nowhere, just… Might help.”

And it did. It does.

It’s been a few months now, and sometimes it’s Wayne who takes Steve — or both of them — on a ride to lull him to sleep with a steady engine and a tape that Vecna never touched.

And every time, Steve wakes the second the car stops. But it’s fine, because he’ll smile, he’ll say, “Thank you”, he’ll say, “I love you,” and he’ll lie on Eddie’s chest for the rest of the night, listening to the steady thrum of his heart while Eddie hums a quiet melody until Steve is asleep again.

written for @steddiemicrofic, dedicated to @auroraplume because i can 🤍🌷

[divine-misfortune]

Mushy May, day 4. Wound tending/first aid.

Rating: T

Pairing: Alpha/Omega

Words: 1,399

Summary: Omega gets hurt and simply shatters under the weight of his guilt. Alpha puts the pieces back together.

Contains: Vague descriptions of injuries, talk of feral water ghouls (ie: Delta), lot of hurt before the comfort. Mushy May? More like misery may- (i'm sorry)

Once again many thank you's to @forlorn-crows for all of this <333

He was shaking. 

Alpha swallowed thickly as he registered that Omega, who moved with a surgeon's precision in every aspect of life, Omega the sturdiest most reliable thing the unholy father ever crafted, was undeniably shaking. 

His hands trembled as he stumbled for the edge of the sink, knocking a few sterilized tools from the counter beside it onto the red splattered tile as he caught himself. Alpha's ears pinned back. Without all the hissing and growling, with the chaos forcefully subdued by the younger quintessence ghoul’s quick thinking, all Alpha could hear was his mate's unsteady breathing. 

The sound of the faucet being turned on broke him from his stupor, driving Alpha from where he'd been rooted with ice creeping into his veins. Lead settled in his belly, a weighted sort of dread as he flocked to Omega's side. He choked on the scent of copper and gunsmoke as he grabbed for Omega's wrists, a desperate attempt to ground him. Try to bring recognition to his eyes. Omega almost jerked away from him and he instinctively held tighter. Never wanting to let him slip away in this blind panic, he'd get lost in it. Alpha did his best to hush him, he was never one for comforting or soothing. People don't often seek out fire to ease the pain, but it was good for cauterizing the wound. 

“Hey, hey, Megs it's me-” Alpha softened his voice to the best of his ability, “look at me.” 

It took a moment but those pinprick pupils found him after bouncing to a few nonspecific points, and Omega let out a shuddered breath. 

“Did you-?” he began, voice grim. Alpha felt his stomach sink like it might retreat back to the very pits he crawled out of. 

“No. No, your kid just put him out for a bit till we figure out a better solution.” Relief and worry fought for a place in his expression. Omega tried to look over Alpha’s shoulder but he abandoned the idea the second he saw the tattered curtain. 

“This wasn't supposed to happen, the transition was supposed to stop it” his eyes dropped, staring at the multitude of gouges raked down his forearms. The reality of failure dawning on him. “We put him through hell, and we still lost Delta.” 

“I….” Alpha followed his gaze down to the cuts on his arms and grimaced, only now registering the blood seeping through his fingers and down his own wrists. “Fuck…C'mon, I don't need you bleeding out,” he gently tugged him away from the sink and towards the office at the back of the infirmary. 

Omega dropped heavily into the chair behind the desk the second he got close to it, fully sagging into his seat. He looked tired, like this had taken everything he had left. Maybe it had. 

The last few months had seemed somewhat hopeful. Short lived relief as Delta seemed to settle into himself, into his new element. There had been a shared anxiety over the transition to begin with, it had never been done before - the idea of an element like water, entirely untamed, being reshaped to fit the ever changing mold of something as elusive as quintessence seemed so outside the realm of possibility. The solution really had been too good to be true, there was no saving a water ghoul from their element or the fate that they were doomed to. Perhaps Omega should have seen it coming, should have sensed the fraying threads in Delta's very being, and judging by the resignation creating harsh lines on his face Omega accepted his part in Delta’s rapidly deteriorating humanity. 

Alpha watched his chin sink to his chest, eyes fixing somewhere far away, seemingly unbothered by his injuries or just too numb to care. He wanted to grab him by those broad, capable shoulders and shake him. Shake the sense back into him. Rattle the guilt out of him like spare change from a piggy bank. 

But he clenched his fists at his sides and went to collect the things he needed. Alpha was no medic by any means but he could certainly clean and dress a wound, Omega had taught him well through the years and various injuries he'd collected - for a time Omega must have thought he was getting hurt like that on purpose to have an excuse to visit the infirmary. His time in the medical wing was informative at least, he knew the various cabinets and drawers a bit too well. 

Rags, hot water, gauze pads, and bandages in hand Alpha returned to Omega to find the quintessence ghoul had not moved an inch. Even the few strands of hair falling over his face hadn't shifted. 

The position felt backwards. Alpha knelt before him while Omega sat silently, avoiding eye contact out of shame. He did not move with confidence like the quintessence ghoul would have. Hesitant and cautious as he moved to dab a wet rag at the fine imprint of teeth. Omega nearly jerked from his grip but Alpha's tail swatted at him lightly, pulling his hand back towards him. Delta had a nasty bite, two rows of jagged needle like teeth, flinching was certainly understandable. 

“He really got you good, huh…” Alpha mumbled, feeling a tendon in Omega's hand twitch in a sort of agreement. No change in his face. “Omega,” he sighed, barely looking up. “You can't tear yourself apart over him, he knew the risk when he pursued the transition.” 

Not a word. 

“This isn't your fault. You couldn't have predicted this.” He offered with an alarming sincerity, a voice too gentle to belong to someone like him. “You did everything you could, but you can't save everyone.” 

His fingers curled, a fist in his lap suddenly. Alpha feared those claws would dislodge the blood clot and he'd start bleeding everywhere again but Omega didn't seem bothered by the thought. 

“Why can't i?!” The words spilled out of him soaked in desperation, face screwing up, eyes shut. “What good am I as a healer if I can't save them?” His voice broke, silently pleading for an answer to ease his guilt. 

Dropping the red stained rag to the floor with a wet slapping sound, Alpha reached for his face instead. Needed to touch him, skin to skin, he couldn't let Omega fall much further lest he lose him entirely. This was the only lifeline he knew how to provide. 

The tears escaped at the first touch, and Alpha wanted to engulf him entirely. Shroud him in a warm safety where the cold cruel reality couldn't tear into his mate any further, but all he could do was slip his arms around his middle and drag Omega's face into his shoulder. The position was awkward at best, what with Omega in the chair and him just kneeling on the floor, but they still found a way to fit together. They always did. 

Clutching the back of his shirt, Omega's shoulders shook. A muted sob that could have easily torn Alpha's hardened heart entirely in two. 

“You couldn't save him but you gave him more time,” Alpha held him tighter, like the truth might be squeezed into him. “You did more for him than any of us could.” 

“He'd have never forgiven me.” He mumbled, cheek pressing close to Alpha’s steady pulse. 

“He would have never thought you needed forgiveness.” He corrected and laid his palm flat to the nape of his neck, idly scratching at the overgrown whispy hairs. “Delta was nothing but grateful to you.” 

Against his neck he felt Omega open his mouth to argue but the words didn't come. He didn't have the energy to let them tumble out, wilting into the fire ghoul's embrace helplessly. Alpha knew his knees would ache, he'd probably walk with a faint limp for the next day or two from the unforgiving tile against his bone, but he didn't dare to move. The bruises were nothing compared to the proverbial beating Omega had given himself, he could endure it. Alpha could endure it all if only to bring Omega peace of mind. 

So he remained, a light in the dark, coaxing Omega back from the places none of them could follow. Warm and solid, something for his lover to latch onto. Alpha would have stayed perfectly in place for centuries if that was what Omega needed. 

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

He's So Pretty

Masterlist

I have so many WIP, including one meant for Christmas last year, that I'm hoping to post this year for Christmas in July. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy.

Song inspo

Contains: Fluff, oral sex (f receiving), fingering.

850 words

Phillip loves eating pussy.

"What ya reading Dollface?" You flashed him your book and he smiled and lifted the bed covers and climbed into bed next to you. He reached over and took the book from your hands, placing it on your bedside table as he pulled you to him, chest to chest as he spoke. "You comfortable?"

You nodded. "I am."

He nuzzled his nose into your hair and pressed his lips to your forehead, wrapping his arms around you as he shifted slightly. His lips met yours, and he rolled on top of you, one hand wandering your body as he held himself up using his elbow. Your lips stayed linked as he slowly peeled off your pyjamas, and his teeth nipped your lower lip once he'd removed everything.

He broke from your lips to kiss down your body, pressing a line of kisses all along your jaw before kissing down the column of your neck and to your chest. He kissed from shoulder to shoulder under your clavicle before his lips made a line down the middle of your chest. His tongue and teeth joined in as he kissed under your left breast before his lips sealed around your nipple as his hand came up to stroke the other one softly with his thumb. His stubble sent little tingles over your flesh, the sensation competing with the softness of his tongue and the gentleness of his rough fingers on your other breast.

His hand and mouth swapped places when your breath began to quicken, and he smiled against your skin when your hand wove into his hair. He moved down your body, stopping to kiss his favourite spots before lifting your legs onto his firm back and settling in. He started slow, kissing over your mound until he was satisfied that you were desperate enough for him to lick you from entrance to clit and back again before sealing his lips around your clit.

The warmth spread from his mouth outwards, travelling up your body in soft waves, the heat of his hands serving to anchor you to bed as the pleasure built. He made no moves to hold you down when your hips began to shift, rather, he moved with you as two of his calloused fingers slid under his tongue and inside you. He pressed his fingertips to your G-spot, moaning against your skin when he felt your hips twitch.

He was exceptional at everything, this included, and your whole body was tingling as pleasure zipped up and down your spine. Each of his blissed out moans sent vibrations across your core in wave after wave of heat until you couldn't stop yourself from squeezing your thighs together around his head. He paused for a moment, meeting eyes with you as you looked down at him expectantly. You could see the smile on his face, his pretty blue eyes wrinkling at the corners, and he replaced his mouth with his thumb and broke away from you to speak. "You doing good Darlin'?"

You nodded. "I'm great, you are wonderful."

He grinned. "I know."

He returned his mouth to your body, and your mouth fell open as the sensations returned tenfold after the short stoppage. You pressed his head to you, and he groaned like a starving man eating a meal for the first time in months as you rocked against his face. The orgasm hit you like a train, pleasure exploding from every contact point until each of your nerve fibres rushed with delight. He slowed but didn't stop, waiting for the aftershocks to pass before picking up the pace again.

Time turned into syrup, and Graves seemed determined to ring every bit of pleasure from your bones until the orgasms all bled into one and your body melted into the bed. He stopped slowly, working you down from the unending high until the frayed edges of your consciousness began to come back into colour. He kissed his way up his body, stopping to wipe his wet face with his palm before pressing his lips to yours. "Thanks for that Darlin'."

You smiled and reached out, placing a hand on his cheek as he gazed down at you with affection-filled eyes. "What about.."

Your yawn cut off words, and he smiled softly. "Don't worry about that, we have all weekend together and I didn't do it so I could fuck you, I did it because I wanted to make you feel good."

He pecked your cheek and pushed himself off the bed. "I'm gonna clean you up, you wait here."

"I don't think I could move if I wanted to." His hand lingered on your leg before he walked away, returning with a warm, damp cloth to clean the mess from between your legs.

Once he was done with it, he threw it in a hamper and climbed into bed next to you, pulling you into his arms as you rested your head on his chest. "I love you Phillip."

You nuzzled further into his arms, and he buried his nose into your hair. "I love you too y/n."

Fin

@chaos-4baby @candy616

[merlingenrecs]

For those who have endured the unthinkable, survival is only the first step. This category focuses on stories that delve into the dark and painful world of torture—whether it’s Merlin under suspicion, or Arthur at the mercy of an enemy.

Today's gen fic rec theme: Torture and Torture Aftermath

Note: Some of these fics are very dark and can contain mature themes. FF.net fics especially may not come with suitable warnings. Take care!

↓ Find the list of fanfic recs under the cut! ↓

⚬ Nothing by deinonychus_1, 1k, rated G https://archiveofourown.org/works/43646655 summary: The most terrifying thing in the world was nothing.

⚬ Resemblances to Truth by Qwerts, 12k, rated T https://m.fanfiction.net/s/11343559/1/Resemblances-to-Truth summary: It was rumored that Uther once captured a powerful warlock and kept him hidden away in the dungeons, a secret weapon never to see the light of day. No one knew if it was true or not, and no one dared to ask- that is, until Arthur met him.

⚬ Waiting in the Dark by kriadydragon, 9k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/1776268 summary: Merlin made a promise.

⚬ Lean on Me (Servant’s Orders) by reelin_writer, 2k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/55813024 summary: Arthur's chamber doors fell shut with a dull thump, and Uther stood still before them, his feet frozen to the floor. The state of his son's body was burned into his memory, the image fraying at the edges and pulsing in the center.

⚬ Breathe by kriadydragon, 10k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/869897 summary: Merlin saves the day - yet again - when he manages to get an injured Arthur and knights to safety. But Merlin's troubles are far from over when an investigation into what had happened to the king and knights leaves him in a bad way, and now it's Arthur and Gwaine's turn to be there for him.

⚬ The Witchfinder: AU by DwaejiTokki, 30k, rated M https://archiveofourown.org/works/4575168 summary: Aredian doesn't believe Gaius' claim to be the owner of the bracelet found in the jar. Merlin is interrogated. Will his innocence be proven before the boy is condemned and burned?

⚬ Oubliette by SGE, 1k, rated K+ https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8278411/1/Oubliette summary: When Arthur discovers Merlin's magic, he consigns him to the horrors of Camelot's deepest dungeon. But when a curse strikes at the heart of the kingdom, can the King repair the damage he's done, and can Merlin find his way back from the darkness.

⚬ Endure by Wasn't There Before, 7k, rated T https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11615106/1/Endure summary: Merlin and Arthur are captured. A torture device is placed on Merlin and Arthur helps him through it. The story of their endurance and escape.

⚬ Ignis Fatuus by Arickajane, 10k, rated M https://archiveofourown.org/works/40517802 summary: His magic is positively screaming, unable to withstand the thought of Arthur being hurt, of failing to keep him safe. He knows the consequences, but he won't be able to live with himself if Arthur gets tortured because of him. Not if he can stop it.

⚬ The Neglected Neckerchief by Emachinescat, 4k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/29620098 summary: A group of bandits torture Merlin in front of Arthur for their own entertainment, using Merlin's beloved neckerchief against him in the cruelest of manners. Now, Arthur must struggle to come to terms with a traumatized Merlin, whose neckerchief has been replaced by a ring of bruises.

⚬ A Fragile Hope by reelin_writer, 2k, rated T https://archiveofourown.org/works/59581072 summary: Arthur had seen horrors before. Witnessed them, bore them, even committed them. But what had been done to Merlin...They didn't even know the full extent, because Merlin physically couldn't speak of it. Perhaps he couldn't even remember, if his mind had retreated far enough. But what they did know was awful enough.Arthur would never forget the sight of his dearest friend hanging limp, dragged from the depths of a pit by the cold iron chain around his waist, too near death from starvation, pain, and magic depletion to even notice the flogging pole he'd been headed toward.

[yorshie]

Hey, Love your stories btw. Saw requests are open and just wondering if you would write how turtles would be with a partner that overthinks?

Kind of like comfort, mostly fluff scene?

Whelp. I wish I could say I didn't overthink this, but I am not a lying liar who lies. Hope this is to your style anon. I want to apologize in advance for somehow not being able to work Raph smooching his reader into the story, but his Reader is a little too angry for smooches

Bayverse Turtles x Reader, set in 2023 (turtles 22 ish)

G/N Reader (somehow i managed that, but names like sweetheart and babycakes are used.) No Y/N

Warnings/Summary : um... fluff. like comfort. n fluff. angst if you think about the fact that reader is not ok at the beginning of each scene. allusions to sexy times in some of them

Tether

Leo peered into your window, found you splayed out on your bed, legs up the wall and staring off into space. He let himself in via the window in your living room, making sure to step loudly as he made his way to your room. 

You hadn’t moved from that spot. He took the moment to shuck his swords, his belt, placing them across the surface of your dresser, before moving to fold his upper half on your bed, beside your gently rising chest.

“Hey.” That low, calm voice pulls you back from wherever you were, the soft touch of a careful finger against the angle of your cheekbone too common an occurrence to really faze you anymore.

“Leo.” You rasped, fingers idly rubbing against your chest as you drank him in. The bed shifted as he leaned a little further over you, lips plush where they pressed against your cheek. “I didn’t hear you come in?”

A soft snort, his movements still slow, still gentle. “I noticed. Where were you?”

You frowned, turned to stare at the ceiling before turning back to the blue banded turtle. “I was thinking.”

“Of course.” He stated it like it was a fact of life, as easy as breathing and as sure as the sun, no judgement in his too blue eyes.

You found yourself smiling despite still feeling a little lost, knowing he wouldn’t want you to apologize. “I don’t really remember how it started.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

You paused, thinking, before pulling a face.

It pulled a small chuckle from his snout. “You are the opposite of Dee.” 

At your questioning hum, he elaborated. “You both think too much. But he lets it all out, you hold it in.” He gently tapped the point above the center of your rib cage, before moving to brush that same, careful finger down the planes of your face. He continued when your eyes strayed back to the ceiling, “I’ll listen, if or when you need to talk.”

“I don’t know if it’ll help.” You still hadn’t reached out to him, thumbs rubbing over their counterpart’s opposite knuckles. “I just feel a little- untethered.”

He tilted his head, pressed the ridge of his brow against your face, tucked it under the curve of your jaw, slowly slid down to the bones in your collar. “I can tether you.” He whispered, against your skin. “Let me tether you.”

You probably would laugh at the corny line he delivered so seriously, if not for the fact that it was working. His weight, the immediacy of his presence, grounded your fraying thoughts, reeled them back in until you could see the edges of yourself underneath.

He breathed in deeply near the dip at the bottom of your collar, letting you feel the rush of air, let it guide you back. One large hand slipped up against your own, fingers interlocking as he urged your thumbs to stop moving.

A slow sweep of his thumb, far larger than yours, against the inside of your wrist, the callus on the inside of his digit whispering across the softer skin. 

“Shhhh… there you go.” He leaned further across the bed, pushed your face further upwards, the curve of his snout now against your cheek. “You’re not going anywhere, darling. I’m here."

This time, when he took in a deep, steady breath, his chest brushed against your arm, and you felt his air flutter across your face. After a long, silent moment, you turned your head towards his own, fingers twisting to rub against his knuckles instead of your own.

“There we go. Just breathe.” He took another steady breath, urged you to mimic him. It was as though you had forgotten the feeling, your lungs rushing with air, swelling to a point almost painful. Thoughts quieted, the mental bits of papers and half formed thoughts returning to their even piles inside the floor of your mind.

Leo shooshed you again, and you realized there had been a hiccup in your breaths. He shifted, his arms unfurling, letting you roll closer, onto your side. He moved to rest the dip where his snout met his cheek against the upturned side of your face, rubbing back and forth in a soothing motion.

“Leo.” You breathed again, feeling the heavy weight of his arm across your waist, loosened fist in between your shoulder blades. You tucked your face against the arm in front of you, rubbed your face in time with his against the pebbled skin.

“I’m here. You’re here. Just breathe.” He repeated.

He let you wrap an arm around his neck, fingers curling over the rim of his carapace, holding him in your space. He let out a hum, the sound deepening, becoming that comforting thump thump thump in his chest, faster than any heartbeat.

You hand tightened in his own, your head turning to find his gaze.

He gave you a small quirk of lips, his snout touching your nose delicately. “Hey, you.”

You know he felt the small puff of laughter, close as he was. “Hey, you back.” You let go of his shell, wrapped your arm around the back of his head, pulled him closer, just to hear that noise in his chest thump louder.

Vibration

Donnie found you in the least likely of spaces, curled up under his desk, his computer chair pulled in tight as if to make a tiny box. He had to fold in on himself to duck down low enough to catch your gaze.

You looked at him easy enough, eyes hazy and out of focus, wincing slightly at his soft whisper:

“Hey,” he drew the word out gently, “what’s wrong?” 

You didn’t want to tell him your thoughts were running a mile a minute, and the only place dark enough to hide from them was under his desk. You didn’t want to confess that your skin felt three sizes too small, and every breath felt like whatever made you, you, would escape if you weren’t careful.

“Overthinking?” Donnie shuffled closer, hands raising, pausing before he touched you. His head tilted to the side, considering, hazel eyes moving over your shivering, overstimulated form. After a long moment, he dropped his hands away from your space, instead reaching up just enough to grab his keyboard. 

“Hold on, sweetheart. I got something that might help.”

At this point you were desperate enough to just nod, closing your eyes and easing your head in your hands. After a few minutes of his typing, the keys clicking loud in the space, he turned on low music.

And, blessedly, you could feel more than hear. The beat vibrated through the lab, the bass high enough that everything not nailed down shivered. You had enough mind to watch Donnie move to close the door, before he was back on the floor next to you, one large arm braced on the overhang of the desk as he swayed into the little dark spot you had created.

“How are you doing? Is this helping?” At your shaky nod, he nods back, hand rising to softly trail the back of his knuckles down the outside of your nearest arm. 

You let out a soft gasp at the feeling, the fire ants dancing across your skin retreating under the coolness of his skin. “Dee?” 

“I’m right here, sweetheart. Tell me what you need?” He rubbed his knuckles back up your arm, paying attention to the way your limb stopped shaking.

You turned to him, stared at the column of his throat, not yet able to meet his too knowing gaze. “More. Please.”

He ducked away for a minute, and you heard the music change, the sound and vibrations starting to oscillate from one side of the room to the other.

“Thank god for surround sound, hm?” Donnie smiled at you when he came back, knuckles returning to their slow sweep.

That got a faint, brittle laugh out of you, your grip shifting on the arms of his chair, opening and closing against the elbow pads.

Donnie moved further into your little alcove, his shell blocking most of the light. “Do you want to come with me, go lay down?” At the quick shake of your head, he tried a different angle. “Do you want to sit in the chair, instead? The ground can’t be very comfortable, and I don’t know when’s the last time I cleaned under there.”

That- that worked. You unfurled, back cramping from how long you’d been hunched over in the little space. You let Donnie pull you into his lap, into his chair, fitting your knees on either side of his thighs and burying yourself in his shoulder.

“There. Much better.” His words came out in a chirp, cool hands coming up to rub along the curve of your back, switching to running his knuckles along your muscles when you shivered at too much skin contact.

The music drowned out everything, and in the all encompassing shake, his touch became bearable, an outside stimulus to focus on. It allowed you to just, stop thinking, stop worrying, condensing all those all-consuming thoughts into a smaller and smaller pile until you could shove them back into the box they’d escaped from.

You sniffled against Donnie’s skin, felt his head dip to rub his cheek on the top of your head, ruffling your hair. Not talking, not yet, just letting the vibrations do their work. Waiting for you to interact back, waiting for the all clear.

If you opened your eyes, you know you would meet his concerned gaze. After this long, being the object of Donnie’s sole focus wasn’t nearly as intense as it was in the beginning. Now, you could see the emotion there, behind the thoughts always moving, always considering a problem, defining a solution.

You tightened your hold, pressed a kiss to say thank you where the bones of his collar connected to his throat, and heard his low hum in affirmation. One hand left your back, tunneled into your hair, fingers rubbing firmly up and down the sides of your skull. 

“There, little better?” He asked, tilting back in his chair, long legs crossing before resting on the desk. He let you loop your arms around his neck, the hard surface of his plastron buzzing with the music’s vibrations more than your skin was. The thick sound of his churr keeping time like a particularly deep drum under the wave of sound.

You pressed yourself tighter to him in answer. “Thanks, Donnie.” 

“Anytime,” He kissed your temple, pet back your hair. “Anytime you need it.” 

Focus

Raph found you stalking back and forth along the canal in the Lair. He heard the angry slap of your feet, the harsh breathes coming out too fast, too strong, and felt a tightness in his chest long before he caught a glimpse of your face.

You didn’t notice him at first, a feat in itself, eyes on your tightly laced sneakers as you wore a ditch into the concrete, blinking constantly to be able to make out the surface.

“Hey.” He tried, not reaching out, not stopping your path of movement. It took two more calls, his voice slipping deeper, until a particularly rumbled ‘baby’ caught your attention, and you stopped so fast your knees protested.

Raph tracked over you, wanting to reach out, wanting to hold you, knowing it was the last thing you would want at this moment.

You were teetering at the edge of an abyss. Work, Life, Pressure. It was a mantra inside your head, everything that was wrong, everything that was out of your control. You couldn’t meet his eyes, only stared at the blearily outline of green and red, feeling yourself start to hiccup the longer you stayed still, knowing you were well on the way to making yourself sick. 

Raph rumbled again, a thump thump thump you could barely hear, a sort of mantra of his own. I see you, I understand, I know. When you jerked your head away, far too gone for comfort, he tried a different approach, finally moving to block your path.

“Follow me.” He jerked his head over his shoulder, but you were already moving past him, knowing where he wanted you, what he was after. You moved so fast, your steps jerky, angry, that he ended up following you into his weight room, found you practically vibrating as you fought to stay in one piece.

“The bag.” He ordered, another jerk of his head, tone brooking no argument. He wasn’t even sure if you could string together two thoughts to make a syllable at this moment without puking, but he knew you needed something physical, before you made yourself sick.

So he stooped to brace the bag, turned it towards you, winced internally at the thought of not being able to wrap your hands. He made a quick gut decision, grabbing an old pair of gloves and tossing them towards you. They were old, and smelled to high heaven, but they hadn’t fit his hands since he’d hit puberty, and they’d save your knuckles. 

When you gripped them, angry, he let the crack in his voice deepen. “You’re gonna wear them, whether you want to or not. I’m not gonna let you bust your hands.”

You rolled your eyes, tears still tracking down your face, but the particular scowl scrunching his features kept you from arguing, and…. Your hands were already aching, where you’d griped the thin bones in your hands too tight.

So you donned the gloves, took a stance, and swung before Raph could get a word in edgewise. The bag vibrated, but the shock transferred back up your arm, drawing out a pained hiss in the process.

Raph chuckled darkly. “Yeah, I bet that didn’t feel too hot, did it, sweetheart? You gonna listen this time, or are you dead set on hurting yourself somehow?”

You still felt the ache in your muscles, focusing on the punishment. You gave another jab, expecting more, expecting to connect with the sand filled bag, but Raph moved faster than you could process, his large hand taking the hit, curling around your glove to keep it in place.

“Don’t be an idiot.” He growled. “Slow down, think it through. You’re not doing anyone any favors punishing yourself.”

You wanted to rip your hand away, wanted to resume, but he held on tight, brought your glove forward until to pressed against the surface of his plastron, pushed until there was no more room to move forward. 

“You do that again,” he threatened out in a rumble, “and I’ll see that you regret it.” 

You shivered, but he moved away, ducked around the bag again, held it steady. 

“Now.” He intoned, and you knew what he wanted, what he was ordering.

So you fixed your stance, danced side to side, imagined your opponent. Imagined a hook coming your way, slipped past with only a faint jitter of hesitation before delivering a hard liver shot, ducking to the other side before jabbing on the rebound, your weight dancing effortlessly side to side the longer you went.

Raph kept quiet, now that you were thinking, problem solving, working out the frustration properly. He kept his eyes trained on your own, watching you come back, watching the tears slow, stop, and a hard determination take its place.

When you finally moved away from the bag, from him, he followed like a shadow, crowding into your space, stopping a hands breath away.

“You feeling better?” He mimicked your nod, continuing, “good. You need to talk about it?”

When you shook your head, lifted your hand to wipe at your face, he stopped you, grip firm and careful as he kept the filthy glove from touching your skin. You stared down at the gloves, nose wrinkling, not missing the chuckle that escaped him.

“Yeah. Sorry bout that.” He peeled it off your hand, before switching to the other, holding both your wrists in his much larger grip, thumbs pushing into sore muscles. “But I can make it up to you, if you’d like?”

You tsked, finding your lip curling up as he let that hopeful thump thump thump once more, moving into your space until he could cage you in between his arms. 

“Sure, Red. Make it up to me.”

Redirect

Mikey found you curled up on your fire escape, staring moodily at the dirty brick. He landed rather loud, wanting to warn you, wanting to see that wide smile break across your face like it always did when you saw him.

Instead, you stayed focused on the wall, and he deflated a little, before frowning, wondering if you knew it was him, or if you were so out of it you honestly didn’t realize you weren’t alone.

“Babycakes! You ok?” He let his voice carry, his suspicions confirmed when you blinked at the sound of his voice, twisted around in confusion. 

“Oh! Hey Mikey.” But you didn’t smile at seeing him, only pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapped your arms around them, laid your head across the top.

He moved to your side, folded in on himself, shuffled forward until he could press his leg, his arm against your own. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you ok?”

You hummed, nodded, not moving when he reached out, ran a hand through your hair. “M’ just tired.” You rubbed your head against your knees. “Can’t sleep.”

He tilted his head, considering you, the open window behind the two of you. “You wanna go lay down? I bet I could help you sleep.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You shook your head again, and he removed his hand, leaning backwards and bracing himself on his palms, nudged you with his leg. “C’mon, baby, talk to me? Tell me what’s wrong? Please?”

“Oh, Mikey,” you smiled at his insistence. “I’m just a little caught up at the moment.” At his confused look, you tapped the side of your head. “Thoughts too loud to sleep, Angelo. Wouldn’t be fair for you to deal with that.”

He frowned, moved forward again, tapping a quick rhythm on his knees, watching as you focused on the movement. An idea sparked, and he quickly shuffled forward, mimicking your pose once more, eyes quickly moving around until he found what he was looking for.

“Look,” He pointed, reached out to tilt your head the correct direction when you hummed in confusion. You saw a tall man walking down the street, dressed to impress, fashion impeccable. You turned a confused look towards Michelangelo, wondering what in the world he was about pointing out a handsome man to you.

“Where do you think he’s going?” He asked, nudged your shoulder until you gave a sigh, answering just to get him to stop:

“I don’t know-” at his puppy dog eyes, you tried again, “maybe, maybe off to a fancy dinner? A promotion?” You lifted a hand to your head, rubbed at the ache.

“Hm.” Mikey hummed, considering. “I bet he’s leaving a date with his wife, on his way to lead a double life,” he dropped his voice to a whisper, aware you didn’t realize you were leaning into him to hear his words, “as a strongman in the  illegal underground circus.”

You stared at him for a beat, taking in his pleased grin, before the first bubble of laughter caught you by surprised, escaped before you could reel it in. “What?” You asked, hand coming up to muffle the sound. 

Mikey tugged your hand down, claiming it in his grip as he pointed out another character. “Look at her! See how she walks so fast?” He glanced over at you, saw your eyes tracking the figure. “Bet she’s late for a super villain meeting, and she’s completely forgotten it’s her turn to bring the snacks.”

“Super villain meeting?” You echoed, unfurling a little, letting him pull you closer. “Shouldn’t you tell Leo about that?”

“Eh,” Mikey shrugged, fingers dancing up and down your sides when you leaned into him. “I was going to, but they keep bribing me with pizza.”

“That would work.” You nodded along when he agreed with your assessment, then pointed. “What about him?”

Mikey followed your gaze. “Oh. Him?” He paused a moment, glancing between you and the person. “Hey, how come the people you pick are handsome?”

You sputtered, “What? He’s the first one I picked!”

“Nu uh,” Mikey shook his head, grateful you couldn’t see his face. “You picked the first one, and he was handsome, too.”

“Mikey, you picked the first one.” Your voice pitched up at the end, clearly hiding laughter, and you could feel him shake behind you.

“No I didn’t, I clearly remember you did.” He insisted, hands slipping around your waist when you turned in his grip, legs boxing in your elbows when you jabbed a retaliatory finger into his plastron.

Jab. “You.” Another jab. “Are an absolute.” Jab jab. “Menace, Mi-” 

He kissed you, a quick press of lips before he bubbled your cheek. “Oh yea? Got you smiling, babe.”

You slumped against him, and he braced a palm behind him to keep from toppling back, concerned for half a beat before he felt the shivers of your laugh against his chest. He let out a soft churr, and you nuzzled into the sound.

“God, what would I do without you, Mikey?” You asked, looped your arms around him as far as they would go.

“You aren’t ever gonna find out, baby.” He replied, gathering you closer, letting you slot yourself against him, content to stay outside in the cold for as long as you wanted.

[coneyislandbabey]

testing his patience. -> g. dunne

WARNINGS: arguing, profanities, billy being billy

SYNOPSIS: Graham finds his voice defending you after Billy takes his anger out on you during a recording session. word count: 2,294

You awoke to the dipping of the mattress on the other side of you. Stretching, you rolled over and blearily opened your eyes, taking in the sight of your boyfriend sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on his shoes. His soft brown curls were unruly over the collar of his flannel shirt, and all you wanted to do was grab his arm and pull that curly head to your chest. 

Graham glanced over his shoulder, and then fully turned to look at you when he realized that you were awake. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said softly. 

You didn’t say anything for a moment, stupid smile on your face as you took in his big blue cherub eyes, waiting for your brain to warm up enough to start functioning. “S’okay, I’m glad I get to see you before you go.” 

Graham’s face split into a grin, and you felt your heart constrict at the sight. “You’re gonna come to rehearsal today, right?”

“Yeah, I’m going to come with Cami and Jules later,” you nodded. 

“Good. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll see you soon,” Graham said. He leaned over, cupping your cheek with his palm, thumb stroking your soft skin once as he planted a kiss between your brows before exiting the room. 

Once he was gone, you flopped over onto your back and tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Graham had been asking you to stop by rehearsals often lately, but you had been hesitant to. Billy had always been temperamental, but usually that was focused on the band and he treated you nicely, or at the very least politely. Yet, ever since Daisy Jones had come onto the scene, he’d been angry with everyone a lot of the time, and sullen the rest. His control issues had gotten worse, he was picking fights with anyone he could for the most innocuous reasons, and frankly, you would rather have some quiet time alone in the house while everyone was at rehearsal to work on your art, or go over to Billy and Camila’s to help with the baby. But Graham seemed more stressed out lately, his nerves fraying more every day that he came home from another day of Billy taking his anger out on him. You hoped that, if you went in to watch, maybe it would cause Billy to reign it in for the day. It’s the least you could try to do for Graham and the rest. 

You got ready for the day quickly, before going over to Camila’s to entertain the baby while she got everything she’d need for the day together. You were hopeful that it would be a good day, that Billy would be in a better mood once his wife and daughter came to visit him. And you were starting to look forward to it, too– you’d always loved listening to the band rehearse and slowly work through new songs until they came to a final project, even more than you liked watching their shows. You missed getting to witness that process, and on top of it, you were extremely curious about Daisy and what she brought to the dynamic. 

“You ready?” Camila asked, coming into the living room with a bag slung over her shoulder. 

“Yes we are,” you responded brightly, standing up and cradling Julia closer to your body. She leaned her head on your shoulder and you did your best to hold in the squeal of sheer affection that threatened to overwhelm you. 

Camila grinned, coming over and kissing the baby on the cheek. “She loves her auntie. Don’t you, Julie?” 

“Don’t tell Uncle Graham, but you’re my favorite person in the world,” you stage-whispered into Julia’s hair. Camila laughed and led you out of the house, toward the car. You strapped Julia into her seat before climbing into the passenger seat. 

“Everything okay, Cam? You seem a little tense,” you asked, noting the tenseness of your best friend’s shoulders as she drove. She didn’t respond at all for a moment, as if she hadn’t heard you at all, before she sighed, letting her shoulders drop. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just… well, you know Billy’s been stressed. It’s been a while since I’ve come to rehearsal, and I’m just not so sure if it’s a good idea to bring Julia with me,” she confessed. You nodded in sympathy, reaching over and squeezing her bicep reassuringly. You understood what she meant; it took a while after he came home from rehab, but Julia had become Billy’s world. Usually, she was an instant calming agent in his life, just having her around brightened him. But with the way he’d been lately, having even Julia at the studio would be a toss-up. 

“We’ll try it out, and if it ends up not being good, you and me can just take Jules somewhere else, okay? It’s so nice out, we can take her down to the beach or to the park, get her some fresh air.” 

Camila nodded, turning to shoot you a grateful smile as she stopped at a red light. 

***

Upon arriving at the studio, you saw Teddy first, who had stepped out to the hall to make a phone call. He was hanging up as you walked in, and returned the smile you aimed towards him. 

“Hello, ladies,” he said, nodding at the three of you in greeting. 

“Morning, Teddy,” you said. “They’re in the usual studio?” 

“Sure are. I’ll be back in there soon,” he said. You nodded and three of you started down the hall to the familiar room. When you walked in, you saw Tobias at the soundboard, and most of the band hanging around the cramped space. On the other side of the glass, Billy and Daisy stood sharing one microphone, singing something you hadn’t heard before. You waved at Karen, who was the only one to notice yours and Camila’s arrival so far and who was immediately reaching to take the baby from Camila’s arms. You squeezed past her, coming up behind Graham and snaking your arm into the crook of his elbow, leaning your head on his shoulder. He startled, but that ever-familiar grin enveloped his face when he realized it was you. 

“Hey,” you grinned back, leaning up to kiss him. Both of his hands went to either side of your face as he reciprocated, cradling you the way he always did. When you pulled away, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to him. 

“Listen, we’re working on something new,” he said, nodding toward Daisy and Billy. You focused on the music, and just as you were really getting lost in it, Billy halted abruptly. 

“Those aren’t the lyrics we agreed on,” he asserted, staring intensely at Daisy. She merely shrugged. 

“I know, but I feel like the song is missing a note of insecurity,” she explained, “and it’s only a slight tweaking of the lyrics and we get that.” 

“I didn’t write it with the intention of a ‘note of insecurity’, I wrote it to sound the way it already does!” 

Teddy had walked into the soundbooth just as the two of them had started bickering, and he went over to the mic immediately. “Alright, let’s do a take Billy’s way, and a take Daisy’s way, and then discuss. Can you both work with that?”

Daisy nodded immediately, and Billy woodenly nodded as well a moment later. “My way first,” he said, and you smirked as Daisy did her best to stop her eyes from rolling as she agreed. Along with everyone else, you listened intently as the pair rolled through both takes. It was immediately clear to you that, even though they were only slightly different, Daisy’s lyrics had a certain edge to them that Billy’s version had been lacking. You all filed out of the soundbooth to meet Daisy and Billy in the other room to discuss. 

“What do you think?” Daisy asked immediately, peering around at the gathered faces. Billy stood apart from her, jaw clenched and arms crossed over his chest. You glanced around, wondering who would be the first to offer their opinion. 

“It’s Daisy’s for me,” Karen said bluntly as she lit up a cigarette. “She’s right, her changes add something that the original was missing, something that should be there.” 

“It’s better,” Eddie agreed. 

Billy’s eyes hardened. “She’s taking the song in a completely different direction than I intended.” 

“It’s not so different, Billy. It just adds another layer of complexity,” Graham countered. “And I can already see where I can tweak the guitar a bit to better accommodate the vibe.” 

“Oh, so what? We’re changing the whole song now?” Billy asked. 

“Come on, Billy, you know that’s not what’s happening,” Karen cut in. 

“Daisy’s lyrics are just as catchy as the original, but they cut deeper, I think,” you piped up before you even realized you were going to speak. Immediately, you regretted it; usually, you did your best to stay out of any drama and arguments that cropped up in the group. Nine times out of ten they had nothing to do with you, and it wasn’t worth the agita to weigh in. This time, you had just gotten so caught up in the conversation, and opened your mouth before you could check yourself. Billy turned to you, scoffing, an anger in his eyes that had rarely, if ever, been aimed at you before. 

“Not for nothing, (y/n), but this has nothing to do with you. Nobody asked what you think, and nobody wants to hear it,” he shouted. You stared at him, blinking, trying and failing to think of an appropriate response to his outburst. Anger simmered beneath your skin that he would dare to talk to you like that, but even deeper, you were hurt. You had only been trying to help. Around you, chaos erupted. 

Daisy turned on him and said, “Actually, I asked.” 

Simultaneously, Warren piped up for the first time to say, “Aw, c’mon man, lay off, she’s trying to help.” 

Eddie and Karen were both saying something, too, but you couldn’t hear them. Graham had stepped away from your side and towards his brother, jabbing his finger into his chest. His voice was dangerously low, acidic, when he opened his mouth. “Don’t you ever fucking talk that way to her again, Billy, or I’ll make sure you can never speak again. I’m sick and tired of you bulldozing everybody else in this band and in our lives for the simple crime of disagreeing with you. Stand there, shut up, and take the fucking constructive criticism like a man.” 

Everyone was silent, gaping at Graham. When he didn’t back up, Billy took the initiative and took a step away from his brother, mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“Well, that settles that,” Teddy said with finality. “We’ll go with Daisy’s lyrics when we pick up where we left off tomorrow. Now all of you go home.” As soon as the words were out of Teddy’s mouth, Billy turned on his heel and stormed away. Graham stared after him for a moment, before turning himself and walking off in the opposite direction. He headed for the side exit into the alley, disappearing outside before anyone else could speak. 

Camila turned and handed Julia off to Eddie, and her eyes met yours. A silent conversation passed between you– Are you okay? Yes, and you? Are you okay to go after him? – Camila nodded slightly, and you nodded back, both of you going after your personal Dunne brother. 

Outside, Graham was leaning against the brick wall, lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He tensed when he heard the door open, but immediately relaxed when he realized it was you. A sadness creeped into his clear blue eyes, clouding them like a sudden storm on a beautiful day. You walked over to stand in front of him, and instinctively his hands found their resting spot on your waist. You put your own hands on his shoulders, pulling yourself closer to him. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, before you could speak. “I shouldn’t have yelled like that in front of you.” 

“Baby, I came out here to make sure you were okay and to say thank you,” you insisted, brow furrowed. “Thank you for standing up for me the way you did. I know it’s hard for you to do that when it’s Billy you’re standing up to. I’m proud of you for finding your voice when it comes to him.” 

Graham sighed, and his eyes cleared with relief. He slumped further against the wall, pulling you with him. “Not that it’ll make much of a difference. Billy’ll continue on the way he always does, and I know it, but I couldn’t just let him talk to you like that.” 

“Doesn’t matter if Billy doesn’t change after this, I’m still proud of you for standing up for me and for everyone that Billy belittles, and I know the rest of the band is proud of you, too,” you doubled down. 

Graham nodded, but he wouldn’t look at you. Gently, you grasped his chin and turned his face toward yours. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. Yes, I’m okay. Just… frustrated with him, I guess,” Graham nodded. “Are you okay?” 

“More than okay, especially since my knight in shining armor stepped in to protect my honor,” you replied, grinning cheekily. Graham laughed, shaking his head and pulling you fully into a hug. You rested your head against his chest, moving to wrap your arms around his waist tightly. After a minute, you looked up and said, “Now, how about we get outta here and go get some food?”

[daydreamtofiction]

Thou Shalt Not Covet // 11: Communion

Contents | Part 10 | First Person Version [AO3]

Summary: (Priest!Benedict x Female Reader) With fresh starts and awkward family dinners, things seem to be changing for Ellis.

Word Count: 5.6K

Warnings: Strong language, irreverence, dark humour, sexual references, discussions of death and loss. Readers must be 18+

You could hear them through your bedroom door; Gina's voice fluctuating between hushed indignation and histrionic sobbing, while Alfie gave little in return besides the occasional mumble. You wondered about all the times you'd heard them talking before; the sudden silence when you'd enter a room, the laughing and teasing you never thought to question. Had they been talking about you in those moments? Whispering declarations of desire to one another and finding thrill in the risk of being caught?

You heard a door slam shut, their voices fading to a distant drone as you zipped up your jeans and pulled on a t-shirt Gina was always trying to steal. You never understood why she wanted it so much; it was plain, boring, the neckline beginning to fray on one side. But maybe it wasn't about the t-shirt at all. Maybe the only reason she wanted it was because it belonged to you.

You brushed the wet hair out of your face with your hands, the act instantly transporting you back to last night; how it felt to rake your fingers through Father Benedict's rain-sodden curls. You shivered, shaking it away quickly before moving around the room, scooping up whatever you could and dumping it into a large gym bag on the bed. 

The process felt mechanical, void of any grief or attachment to the possessions that anchored you to this place. You zipped up the bag and looked around at the rest of your things; mementos from times you no longer cared to remember, photographs of people you never truly knew, wallpaper you'd been so excited to put up and a bed you'd shared with someone who wasted three years of your life. 

You stepped into a pair of old, worn-in trainers, the leather so soft and slackened that you didn't even have to untie the laces anymore. Slinging the bag over your shoulder, you made your way to the door, turning the handle and pushing it slowly in an attempt to stop it from creaking. 

You successfully made it to the top of the stairs before the door behind you swung open, making you huff in defeat. 

"So that's it?" asked Alfie with a slight lisp, his mouth swollen from Father Benedict's punch. "You're just off, then?" 

You turned to look up at him. "What else were you expecting? Even if Gina hadn't kicked me out, do you really think I'd want to stay here?"

he shook his head. "It's like you don't care." 

"Oh, well I'm sorry for not reacting to you cheating on me in a way you find acceptable." 

"I don't mean- I just- You haven't even given me a chance to explain-"

"I have no interest in hearing you try to justify this, Alfie. If you and Gina wanted to be together, you could've just said so instead of doing this to me." 

"But it's not like that between me and G." 

"Not like that? I walked in on it!" 

"I mean I don't want to be with her! You were pulling away and she was... there. It was a moment of weakness that just spiralled-"

Gina emerged from the room, elbowing Alfie as she stormed past him, mascara like ink blots across her cheeks. 

He looked over at her as she marched into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her, then back down to you. 

"How many times?" you asked. 

He rolled his eyes. 

"Go on, how many moments of weakness are we talking?" 

He dropped his head, refusing to answer. 

You nodded, pressing your tongue to the inside of your cheek. "Can you at least tell me... Were you safe?" 

"Yes," he replied weakly. 

"Condoms?" 

"Yes." 

"Every single time?" 

"Yes." 

"Okay. Well thanks for that, at least." 

You turned, hoisting the bag back up your shoulder and continuing down the stairs. 

"So you can go and let Father Bellend know he's not going to catch anything from you," he muttered. 

You stopped, shuddering at the realisation that you'd told him; the words you'd spat at him like venom now trickling down your spine. 

"I just said that to piss you off," you said. 

"Wait, so you didn't sleep with him?" 

"No!" You hoped you were convincing, unable to tell beneath the bruises and swelling if he was buying it. "How insecure do you have to be to feel threatened by a priest?" 

"The same priest who did this?" He pointed to his face. 

"You deserved it." 

You finally made it down to the bottom of the staircase, glancing over your shoulder to see him still standing at the top. 

"D'you know, Mara never liked you," you began. "I always thought she was just being a bitch, judgemental, too stuck up to give you a chance. But it turns out she was the only one who could see right through you."

Daylight clung to the horizon, casting a golden hue across a blushing sky. The days since you'd left Gina's house had grown warmer, brighter, with mild breezes and longer evenings, as though the earth itself was rejoicing in your newfound freedom. 

You stepped off the bus with a sigh, thankful to escape the humid air of squashed passengers and closed windows. The walk to your mother's house was short, so you made the effort to slow your pace, making it last that little bit longer to steal solace wherever you could get it, even in the five minutes between bus stop and front door. 

She'd been surprisingly tactful about the whole thing, welcoming you back when you turned up on her doorstep two nights earlier, making up the bed in your old room and leaving you to settle in without prying; no questions, no judgement, no classic mum-isms you'd come to expect from her. Maybe she was secretly happy to have a fledgling back in her empty nest, careful not to do anything that may make you fly away. 

You reached the house as a car pulled up outside, its large tyres mounting the kerb with a gentle bounce. You raised your hand in a subtle wave as you made your way to the front door, rummaging for your keys inside your large, overfilled tote. 

"Did you just get off work?" Mara called out as she climbed out of the passenger side. 

You nodded, watching as she made her way around the back of the car. She didn't seem surprised to see you there, which meant your mother had told her. The thought made you groan internally.

"What are you doing here?" you asked. 

"Nice to see you too," said Nathan with a slight laugh as he emerged from the car. 

"Dinner," said Mara, as though it should have been obvious. 

She unclipped Soleil from her abundance of safety straps and seat belts, before hoisting her onto her hip and making her way up the path to meet you.

"How was work?" she asked.

"Eh." You shrugged, finally pulling out your keys. "Spent the day staring at pictures of babies in silly outfits."

"Sounds cute." 

"That's one word for it." 

The front door opened straight into a spacious living room. Perfectly tidy as always; cushions plumped, surfaces dusted, vacuum lines still visible in the rug. Since the divorce, your mother had taken to redecorating every few years. You always assumed it was a way of erasing any evidence that your father once lived there, but you were starting to think she just got bored easily. Right now, she was fond of the colour silver; opting for glittery wallpaper, velvet curtains and a large mirrored coffee table in the centre of the room. It was headache-inducing, yet there was something oddly comforting about it at the same time. 

"Oh, she mustn't be back yet," said Mara. 

"Back from where?" you replied as you hung your bag over the banister. 

"She said she was going to the church to pick up all the stuff." 

"The church?" 

"Well, the pub next door to it." 

"Oh." You swallowed, your mouth turning weirdly dry. "What stuff?" 

"Banners, bunting, that big balloon arch. We didn't have time to take it all down after the christening on Sunday so they stuck it in the back for us." 

"Ah." You gave a distracted nod and made your way across the room. 

"Where are you going?" 

"I just need a drink." 

You walked into the kitchen, pulling a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. The door opened behind you as you gulped it down. You wiped your mouth and glanced over your shoulder, forcing a bright smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. 

"So," said Mara, lifting the lid off the slow cooker and glancing inside. "Mum said you're staying here for a little while...?" 

"Mhm." 

She paused, leaning back against the counter with folded arms as she waited for you to elaborate. Instead you stood there quietly, rolling the cold glass over your warm cheek. 

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" she pressed.

"I moved out," you replied simply. 

She lowered her head slightly, staring at you beneath a heavy brow.

"What?"

She parted her lips to speak, but a noise from the living room caught her attention; the front door opening and closing, your mother's voice singing a cheerful greeting.

She gave you another dubious look. "You're going to tell me what happened."

You rolled your eyes and put the glass in the sink before reluctantly following behind her.

"So this... dinner thing, do you do this regularly then?" you asked.

"Maybe a couple of times a month." 

"Why have you never invited me?" 

"Would you come if we did?" 

"Probably not." 

"Well there you go."

Mara stopped suddenly in the doorway, making you bump clumsily into her back. You were ready for her to berate you for it, tell you to watch where you were going. But instead she gave a high-pitched 'oh', reaching back to grip your arm.

You furrowed your brow and peered over her shoulder into the living room, the air immediately evaporating from your chest as your gaze locked on a set of glacial eyes. 

He was carrying a large plastic storage bin, the weight of it evident in the whitening of his knuckles as he hauled it through the door. The lid lifted slightly, a single yellow balloon escaping and rising to the ceiling. 

"Father," said Mara, confusion laced in her cheery tone. "Well this is a surprise." 

"Hello," he said. "Nice to see you all again." 

You remained in the doorway of the kitchen, eyes wide, watching as your mother directed him to put the box on the floor. He was stiff in his movements, his gaze darting to you every few moments, the discomfort clear on his face. 

"You're a godsend," said your mother. "Do you mind helping me with the last few bits?" 

"Of course not." He smiled, making his way back outside.

"I'll do it, mum," you said quickly, hurrying across the room. "You sit down." 

"Oh, okay, thanks love." 

You wiped your palms on your trousers as you rushed down the path, catching up with him as he opened the boot of his car. Another balloon escaped, he caught it before it floated away, stuffing it back inside a bin bag and twisting it closed. 

"What are you doing here?" you hissed, leaning in and grabbing a box filled with table centrepieces. 

"I ran into her outside the church," he replied. "She needed help with all this stuff, I couldn't just leave her to struggle." 

"Yes you could." 

He rolled his eyes. "Relax, you haven't told them anything, have you?" 

"Of course not." 

"Then it's fine. Help me get this inside and then I'll leave." 

You gathered the rest of the decorations. He reached up to close the boot, stopping to look down at you. 

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You haven't text, so I assume everything was alright after I left the other day?" 

"I haven't paid my phone bill, remember?" 

He breathed out a laugh, shaking his head softly. 

"But no, it was fine," you sighed. "I said a few things, packed and came here. Uneventful, all things considered." 

He nodded and closed the boot with a heavy slam, hoisting an obnoxiously large display of balloons and flowers over his shoulder. 

"How's your hand?" you asked. 

He laughed again, looking down at the faint bruising on his knuckles. "It's fine. Was worth it." 

You glanced up at him, eyes falling immediately to the slight smirk across his lips; a smirk that held entirely new meaning now. You'd kissed those lips, felt them on your skin. Those lips had tasted you, parted to let out the most divine moans. 

He arched an eyebrow. "Ellis," he whispered sternly. "Stop looking at me like that." 

It sounded like a reprimand, but you knew it was more of a warning; a reminder that nothing innocent ever came from those looks.

You conceded, clearing your throat and making your way back into the house.

"Why don't you stay for dinner?" 

This was it. Your punishment from the heavens.

Father Benedict let out an appreciative sigh. "Oh, no, I-"

"Come on, I insist," said your mother. "You came all this way to help me, it's only fair." 

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Consider it a thank you, especially after everything you did getting the christening sorted so quickly." 

"I er..." he blew out a long breath. "I really don't want to impose-"

"Nonsense! Go on, sit down."

She gestured towards the dining room before disappearing into the kitchen. Mara waited until she was gone before letting out a laugh, turning to Father Benedict with an apologetic smile. 

The silver theme had bled into the dining room; sparkles and mirrors and crushed velvet cushions on each chair. You wandered around the table, stopping at Cain's chair and making an elaborate sidestep to avoid it. Mara rolled her eyes at you, sitting down with Soleil in her arms as Nathan pulled up a chair beside her. You slumped into your seat, pressing your lips together firmly as Father Benedict sat down directly opposite you. 

"She's hungry," Mara muttered, reaching to open her blouse. "You don't mind do you, Father? It's not offensive or anything?" 

You rubbed your eyes. Ah yes, just what this nightmare of a situation was missing, you thought, my sister's left tit. 

"No, not at all," he said politely. "I think it's beautiful. The breastfeeding, I mean, not your... erm..." 

"Jesus Christ," you mumbled under your breath. 

Your mother pushed the door open with her hip, walking in and placing a large pot in the centre of the table. "Beef stew, help yourselves. Father, can I get you anything?" 

He shook his head. "No, I'm good, thank you." 

"Are you sure? Anything? Condiments? Extra bread? Something different to drink?" 

"Just sit down, mum," said Mara. "Leave the poor man alone." 

She raised her hands in surrender and sat down at the head of the table.

"Sorry about her," Mara added, turning to Father Benedict. "I think she's got a bit of a crush on you." 

He chuckled, and you shuddered at the thought. 

"He's a handsome man, Mara." She turned to Nathan. "Isn't he." 

"I couldn't possibly comment," he replied. 

Everyone laughed, even your own face broke with a smile. 

It was astonishing, how one person could be so charming, so charismatic and endearing that everyone he came into contact with was left in awe of him. And it was you he'd chosen. This man, who was so delicious that the flavour of him lingered in the mouths of people who'd barely had a taste, had wanted you, worshipped you, fantasised about you. 

You. 

Everyone made smalltalk as they ate, the sound of cutlery clinking against dishes filling the brief silences between conversation. You'd never been good at smalltalk. But then again, you'd never been particularly good at 'big talk' either; preferring to melt into the background, nibbling on a piece of bread as you took in the mundanity of everyday chatter around you.

"So go on then, why've you moved back home?" said Mara, bringing you back into focus. 

You glared at her, pausing for a moment before shrugging. "I broke up with Alfie."

 "After the christening?" 

"Mhm." 

"What happened?" 

You picked up your spoon and swirled it in your stew, pushing a chunk of potato around the bowl as you spoke. "Caught him cheating on me... With Gina." 

Your mother gasped, Nathan's eyes widened in shock. 

"That fucker," Mara spat.

"Mara," said your mother, nodding towards Father Benedict.

"Sorry," she said. 

"It's alright," he replied. "He does sound like a fucker." 

Everyone laughed quietly, easing the tension around the table. 

You exchanged brief but intense eye contact with him. He turned his head quickly, exposing the edge of a love bite from beneath the collar of his jumper. You bit your lip, holding back a smile before spooning stew into your mouth.

"So yeah," you mumbled as you chewed. "It is what it is." 

Mara's eyes narrowed. You could tell she was sceptical, trying to work out why you weren't more upset. Her gaze darted between you and Father Benedict before she relaxed back into her chair. 

"Gina text me that night asking if you were at mine," she said. 

"Yeah, I walked out after I caught them." 

"Where did you go?" 

"A friend's. So mum, I was wondering if I'd be okay to stay until I sort out a place to live." 

"Of course," she said. 

"What friend?" Mara pressed. 

"Does it matter?" you replied. "Why did Gina say I'd left?" 

"She didn't. Conveniently left that part out. Why did you go to a friend's house and not come to mine?"

You shrugged. "Because we don't do that." 

"What?"

"Come to each other for things."

"You can come to me for things."

You furrowed your brow in confusion. "Wh-"

"How are you going to move everything out of the house?" asked your mother.

"I've asked Dad if he can drive me over in his van at the weekend."

"God this is just awful." She placed her head in her hands. "What are you going to do, Ellis? You've got no money."

"Cheers, mum."

"And I've not got the funds to help you get a place of your own. Do you think your dad and Nicola could help?"

"I don't- no, I'm- I'll work something out."

"Mum," said Mara. "You're embarrassing her in front of the clergyman."

Father Benedict dropped his head with an awkward laugh. "It's fine. This is nothing compared to some of the things I've heard in this job." 

"Ooh like what?" your mother leaned closer. 

"If you can think of it, someone's probably confessed it to me." 

"Wow." She rested her cheek on her fist, studying his face. "Is that why you wanted to be a priest? All the gossip?"

He cleared his throat and set his spoon on the edge of his bowl. "Well, actually, I er... I had a brother who passed away-"

She gasped. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry. You know, the girls lost a brother as well. Cain, my eldest. He was only twenty-four."

Mara shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. 

"How did he go?" your mother continued. "If you don't mind me asking?" 

"Oh, he... He had substance abuse issues," he replied. "Sorted himself out towards the end though, got clean. But by that point he'd already done so much damage, his body just... gave out." 

You felt a pang in your chest, his voice so soft and sincere you could almost hear the heartbreak. 

"I'm sorry." She reached over and placed a hand on his for a moment, her fingers resting over the bruises on his knuckles.

He smiled, seemingly grateful for the comfort. "He was religious towards the end. It made me start looking at my own faith after he passed." 

She nodded. "Y'know when we first lost Cain, I contemplated going to church a few times. But the way he died, it was so... brutal. I couldn't fathom a god would let that happen-"

"Mum," Mara groaned, almost pleading for her to stop. 

"Ellis was thirteen," she continued obliviously. "Decided she wanted to do gymnastics, but the place was so far away she wouldn't be able to make it there after school unless someone drove her."

Mara let out a huff before handing the baby to Nathan. "She's full, I'll be back in a minute." 

You watched as she rose from the table, walking out as your mother continued to speak. 

"Mara was the one who usually took her, but she was busy on this particular day so Cain did it instead. Anyway, on their way home he lost control of the car. The pair of them were in terrible shape. They had to cut you out from the roof, didn't they Ellis." 

You exhaled a long, slow breath. 

"Obviously she survived, thank god. But Cain wasn't wearing his seatbelt." 

"Gosh, I'm so sorry," said Father Benedict. 

You stood up suddenly, brushing your hair out of your face. "I'm going to get another drink." 

Mara was stood in the kitchen, staring out of the window at the darkening sky, tongue pressed to the inside of her cheek. You closed the door behind you and let out a sigh.

"Is she still going on about it?" she asked, eyes fixed on the window.

"Mhm." 

"Fuck sake," she whispered. "She just talks about it fucking constantly. Anyone who'll listen. The poor guy only came to help with decorations and now she's dumping all the family trauma on him." 

"He doesn't mind. He's good with this kind of stuff, always knows what to say." 

She finally looked at you. "What did you mean when you said we don't come to each other for things?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and shrugged. "I don't know. We just... don't. Not like proper sisters."

"Proper sisters?"

"You know what I mean. Sisters who aren't nine years apart. Who don't have a huge elephant following them into every room."

She returned to looking out of the window. 

You licked your lips awkwardly before making your way towards the fridge. "After Cain died-"

"Ellis," she groaned. 

"Just let me... After Cain died, I snuck into your room a few times when you were out and read your diary." 

She spun around. "You did what? Why?"

"Honestly? I always felt like you wished it would've been me instead of him. But I knew you'd never actually say that out loud. So I'd skim through looking for my name to see if you wrote it there instead."

She stood there, speechless, lips parted in stunned silence. "You actually thought I wished you'd died in that car?" 

"If it meant he got to walk away from it instead-"

"Well that's not true. Of course it's not fucking true. I- well, let's get one thing straight, if we're wishing for stuff I'd have just wished for no one to die."

"Fair."

"But no. Ellis, Jesus Christ, no. I know I've not been the best sister in the world, but bad enough for you to think I wished you weren't here? Really?"

"Well I don't think that anymore. But it's hard, I mean, why would I go to you for things when I spent the majority of my life feeling like you resented me?" 

Her shoulders slumped, a defeated breath leaving her. 

"Do you know, I think it actually bothered me more that you just never wrote about me at all," you said. "Ever."

"There isn't enough paper and ink in the world, that's why." 

You laughed softly, turning to pour yourself a drink.

"Can we just get rid of the elephant?" she asked.

"Hm?" 

"Tell it to fuck off. Leave us alone." 

You turned back to face her, thinking for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. I'm not sure how you tell an elephant to fuck off, but we can give it a go."

"Okay. Good." She paused. "Do we hug now or something?" 

"I'm not really a hugger." 

"Thank god, neither am I." 

You took a large gulp of your drink. She watched you quietly, eyes burning into you. 

"Are you really alright? About Alfie and Gina?" 

"Yeah. I actually am. I think I finally understand what people mean when they say it feels like a weight's been lifted off them. I feel lighter." 

She smiled. 

"We should probably go back in," you said. 

"Yeah. Get back to Mr tall dark and handsome." 

"Mara." 

"What?" she laughed. "Do you know he hasn't stopped looking at you all night?" 

"I think he just feels awkward." 

"Hm." 

"He's a priest. Even if... I don't know, there's just- It's not..."  "Who knows, maybe he's secretly well up for it."

You laughed. "Yeah, maybe." 

She walked towards the door. You followed behind, stopping when she turned to whisper. 

"Just do me a favour, whatever you do, don't get pregnant. Your hair falls out, you can't cough without pissing yourself and your sex life goes down the drain."

"Well if you're pissing yourself all the time, it's no wonder."

She glared at you, but it only lasted a moment before a smile began to emerge.

Mara warned you not to get pregnant. And if that wasn't caution enough, watching forty nine-year-olds running wild around a church would definitely do it. They were loud, boisterous, ignoring their exhausted parents as they bounced from pew to pew. 

A headache was taking root behind your eyes, every screeching voice and thud of little feet making it worse. You were beginning to think June lied when she said she was visiting her niece in Wales, maybe she just wanted to avoid doing this. 

You stood near the doors of the chapel, handing out pens and taking attendance as each family arrived. Father Benedict walked up and down the aisle, welcoming them with smiles and high-fives, asking parents to spread out, though not many seemed to listen. 

You kept glancing over your shoulder at him, as though you couldn't help but steal a quick peek whenever his back was turned. He was wearing a pair of black trousers and a snug-fitting fleece jacket, his white collar peeking out of the top. It had been four days since the night you spent together, yet the look on his face when you took that collar off was as fresh as the moment it happened, even down to the popping sound it made as you tugged it away from his neck. 

He checked his watch before turning on his heels, strolling leisurely towards you. 

"How are you getting on?" he asked, glancing down at the attendance sheet in your hands.

"Just making a mental note to take my contraception later," you replied, looking around as a group of kids chased each other from one side of the chapel to the other. 

He laughed. "They're fine when you know how to handle them. Watch." 

He turned around and cupped his hands around his mouth, his voice loud and commanding, echoing in the steepled roof. "Okay everyone! I'm going to begin, so I want children sat with their parents please!" 

The children immediately fell into order, their ruckus fading to a quiet hum as they rushed to sit down.

You bit your lip; the way he could control a room with nothing but his voice stirring something deep inside you. He walked down the aisle to the altar and turned to face them all, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"Welcome, everyone. Thank you very much, as always, for coming. I know these preparation sessions can be a bit of a pain when we're all so busy, but it is so important for the children to be attending, especially as their first holy communion is just around the corner." 

'What's that?" a young boy with a freckled nose asked, pointing to a small brass font on the wall.

"Holy water," you replied, chin resting on your fist as you sat at the back of the chapel. 

"What's that?" 

"A sanctuary lamp." 

"What about that over there?" 

"A hymn book." 

"And what's that?" 

"That's just a radiator." 

"Oh." 

"Bradley," his mother shouted. "Come on, leave the lady alone." 

It was the longest hour of your life. Father Benedict had sent the children on a scavenger hunt around the church, challenging them to tick off as many items as they could find. But for some reason, most of them were more fascinated with you. They came over in waves, small groups of curious eyes asking you random questions, touching your things or trying to trick you into identifying everything for them. 

You checked your phone. Ten minutes. Just ten more minutes. 

"What's your name?" a soft, delicate voice asked. 

You looked up to see a small waif of a girl standing next to you, the biggest brown eyes you'd ever seen gazing at you in wonder. 

"Ellis," you replied. 

"I'm Dot." 

"Dot?" 

"Mhm." She nodded, hugging her work book close to her chest. "Are you Father Benedict's wife?"

You gave a soft laugh. "No, just a helper." 

"Oh okay." She paused, looking down at her feet. "I think you're really pretty," she finally said. 

Your mouth fell open slightly; the compliment somehow meaning more coming from a child. 

"Thank you. I think you're really pretty too." 

She smiled, a set of deep dimples forming in her cheeks before skipping away. 

Maybe a kid or two wouldn't be so bad, you thought. No, god no, Ellis. Remember what Mara said about peeing yourself all the time. 

The session ended ten minutes late. You sighed as the final few families left, your headache already beginning to ease in the newfound silence. You closed the doors, leaning back against them dramatically for a moment.

"You survived!" Father Benedict's voice echoed across the vast, empty space. 

"Next time I volunteer myself for something, remind me of tonight," you called back.

He chuckled, taking a set of keys from his pocket. "Can you lock those doors for me?" 

You nodded before letting out a pathetic shriek as the keys came soaring through the air towards you. When they landed at your feet, you looked up to see him laughing, covering his mouth with his hand.

"What about me makes you think I'd be good at catching?" you shouted. 

He continued to laugh, picking up a box and disappearing into the back. 

It was eerie being the only person in a church; the slightest movements seeming to echo, every piece of art staring directly at you. You locked the doors and began cleaning up, weaving through the pews collecting pens and forgotten booklets, the occasional sweet wrapper. 

You wandered down towards Father Benedict's office, tapping your knuckles against the open door and stepping inside. 

"Some left over booklets," you said. 

He was crouched at a small filing cabinet, fanning his fingers through a drawer of papers. "Oh, thanks," he said, glancing over his shoulder at you. "Just throw them on the desk." 

You walked over and threw them down as instructed, hovering for a moment, like something inside you didn't want to leave. 

"A little girl thought I was your wife," you said with a slight smirk. 

He stood up, brushing the stray curls out of his eyes. "Really? That's quite cute actually." 

"Mm. She called me pretty and I nearly cried." 

He smiled, walking over to the desk. "She's not wrong." 

You kept your eyes on him, watching his hands as they fanned out the booklets, his jaw clenching as he peered down at them. 

"Anything else you want me to do?" you asked. 

He presses his lips together in thought. "No, I think that's everything. You're relieved from duty."

"Thank god." 

"I appreciate you helping out tonight. I know it's a bit... awkward." 

"Is it?" 

"Well it's the first time we've been alone together since..." 

You looked around the office, setting your sights on the couch for a moment before returning to him. 

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Don't even think about it." 

"I didn't say anything." 

He moved slightly closer, lowering his voice. "Ellis, it is taking everything in me to behave myself." 

You gazed up at him, a thousand comebacks flitting through your mind. But in the end, you chose to yield, nodding gently and stepping away. "I'll get going then."

You left the office, pulling the door closed behind you with a disappointed huff. It was harder, somehow, to leave empty handed after knowing what it felt like to get every last piece of him. But you hadn't come here for that; you came to help, and now it was time to go. 

"Fuck sake," you whispered, halting halfway down the hall when you realised the keys were still in your pocket.

You turned around to begin walking back, but the sound of the office door made you slow to a stop. 

Father Benedict stepped out, his eyes falling on you. "You have-"

"The keys, I know," you laughed, taking them out and hurrying over to him. 

He took them from you and slipped them into his back pocket, looking down at you with a heavy, pensive brow. You swallowed hard, eyes flitting to the love bite peeking over his collar. You wanted to reach out and touch it, run your fingers over the place your mouth had been, the flesh you'd marked as yours. But you resisted, breathing steadily, waiting for him to speak. 

"Fuck it," he finally said, and in one swift movement, his hands were on your face.

He pulled you into a hard, aggressive kiss, spinning you around and pressing you back against the wall. You gasped into his mouth, fingers immediately finding his hair and grasping it tight. 

His breath was hot, hungry, overflowing with need and frustration. You felt his hands move from your face to your neck, fingertips pushing into the soft skin of your throat as his body pressed firmly into you. 

When he finally broke away, he kept his face close; forehead resting against yours, panting heavily into your open mouth. You moaned softly, chest heaving in an attempt to catch your breath as you stared up at him in awe.

He always said you had a way of looking at him. But the way he was looking at you right now; nothing but fire. 

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