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caelum-in-the-avatarverse · 4 days

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Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available.

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community.

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company?

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists.

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits.

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people.

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it.

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

#ao3 #lore.fm #fanfiction #fandom history #gift economy #caelum rambles

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pedgito · 5 months

Note

Hi Ali!! I love your writing and I was wondering if I can request dom Joel punishing you by riding his boot??

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

summary | joel doesn't like gifts, you gift him new boots. [3k]

pairing | joel miller x fem!reader

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, soft dom/sub dynamic, boot-riding, degradation kink, unprotected piv, one (1) face slap, porn with absolutely no plot.

author’s note | original working title for this was new boot goofin' because i can't take myself seriously, idk what this is but enjoy. kel (@beskarandblasters) suggested the actual title for this so thank you babe ♡

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic recs

Three things about Joel you were intensely sure of—he was a strong lover. He loved hard and he cared even harder, always willing to put your needs before his own, even to an unhealthy degree in some cases. Two, he liked to be in charge. With his willingness to put you before him, it also lended him to enjoy the role of being dominant in the right situations. He kept a lot of himself locked up around everyone but you. Through the few years you two have become close and started this relationship—if you could call it that—there’s a solid understanding of each other’s needs. He provides the domineering nature you crave and you subdued yourself to him willingly when he puts the facade on.

At first, it never left the bedroom. You both enjoyed the disguise of the dynamics to make things flow easier, not allow things to stall out so quickly and you had all the proper safety precautions in place to allow you both the happiness you seeked out. But, as most things in your life, they seeped through the cracks and bled out, intermingling with the rest of your daily life.

Sometimes it was just a look when you’d say something in public that was indecent or a comment that made Joel’s face go hot, knowing that despite his openness in public, he was still a very private man. He reserved that side for you and only you. And he did so much for you—not just around Jackson, but in your own home. With him being the lead guy for patrols and having such a…special relationship with him, it lended for more leniency when you weren’t feeling great or needed a break from the hectic energy that patrolling liked to suffocate people with, always on the brink of danger. And Joel was always too handy for his own good—always finding a reason to fix up a broken something in your own small house on the outskirts of Jackson.

Broken pipe? Fixed. Chair broken? Joel could shape you out a new one in a couple weeks.

Last week he had repainted then entirety of your kitchen cabinets because he thought they were looking a little dull—as if they weren’t run down from years of abandonment and like this wasn’t the fucking apocalypse. Despite that, you felt the urge to thank Joel. And not just thank him.

Properly. With a gift.

But—oh. Third thing, Joel hated gifts.

Despised them.

But, you weren’t always the best listener or rule follower.

A patrol with Tommy had you both scheming up an idea when you bring up the option of gifting something to Joel as a proper offering of appreciation, his hand resting loosely on the rifle slung around his chest, fingers tapping against the butt.

“Well—you know, there’s a clothing store a few miles east,” Tommy tells you, “Ellie and I found it when we cleared out that hoard a few months back—lotsa clothes and shoes, mostly untouched. We could check that out? I need to grab a few things myself anyways.”

You nod easily, “Yeah—that pair he has is falling apart. It drives me insane.”

“Joel doesn’t like to let go of things easily,” Tommy comments broadly, “He’ll make do with what he’s got until it falls apart.”

“Well, he doesn’t take no for an answer when I tell him to stop helpin’ me so he’s gonna have to suck it up just this once.” You smile slightly, earning a soft chuckle from Tommy.

You hoped it would go over well—because Joel did need new boots and there was little harm in an innocent gift…right?

–

Joel is brimming with an energy that only accompanied him after long patrols, the ones that lasted a few days and kept him away. Away from his home, away from you. He doesn’t even attempt the trek toward his own house, rather taking the first right and beelining for your small house at the end of the neighborhood, squeezing his leather covered hands into fists.

He’s anxious, pent up—not with anger or rage, but just a need to release some built up stress. Fortunately, he knew the perfect way to do that. His boots squeak against the hardwood of your front deck, the tattered rubber around the toe of his boot hanging on by a thread as he kicks it gently into the base of the door softly, idle as he busies his mind and prays that you’re still awake.

You’ve been waiting for him all day, his gift hidden away safely as you yank the door open excitedly, nearly tripping over your own pair of haphazardly thrown shoes on the floor.

Joel lets out a soft oof as he catches you, chuckling at your bright and beaming smile.

“Someone’s excited,” Joel chides playfully, though his voice is gruff. He sounds tired, looks it too, “been missin’ me, baby?”

You nod immediately, “So much,” You press a gentle kiss to his lips as he kicks the front door closed with his foot, slowly removing his layers—thick coat falling first, then his thinner jacket he wore underneath to leave him in a thick thermal, his skin still prickling with the winter chill but quickly warming underneath your touch, “everything go okay?”

“Yeah—just a bad storm comin’ in,” Joel explains, ignoring how distracted you were, allowing the soft pecks to his skin as you pulled away, slowly inserting yourself into his line of sight, mischievous grin plastered across your face, “—what are you up to, darlin’?

“Got a surprise for you,” You tease playfully, feeling his thick, calloused fingers slip under the thin material of your shirt, subconsciously seeking some contact with you, “can you go sit on the couch and close your eyes?”

Joel didn’t take too well to surprises, but he trusts you. So, he nods quietly, though there’s a slight hesitance to him as he takes a seat on the couch, slowly unlacing his boots in your absence to relieve some pressure but not taking them off completely, the tongue of the boot hanging lifelessly over his even more pathetic looking laces.

He can hear your soft footsteps as they approach, bare feet against the wood flooring as the couch dips slightly and he feels something hard and solid pressed into his hands.

“Okay, open ‘em,” You tell him gently, watching as he blinks his eyes open, expression mostly unchanging—it wasn’t unlike him to have little reaction, but it did worry you slightly, “—surprise?”

Okay, terrible idea. Got it.

“Darlin’,” God, you’ve heard that tone before, body tensing slightly, “I thought I told you I don’t need nothin’ in return from you.”

“Joel—you’re constantly helping me,” You argue softly, “it’s the least I could do. Plus, you need a new pair.”

“That’s not the point,” Joel tells you, “I do that stuff ‘cause I like knowin’ you’re comfortable, that you don’t have anything to worry about while I’m away.”

“And I worry about you too,” You interject quickly, “Joel—it’s just a gift, it’s okay.”

Joel places them on the table in front of him silently, contemplating thoughtfully.

He’s made it clear on several occasions that he doesn’t like things in return. That he does these things without the expectation of anything in return, but he appreciates the gesture. Joel isn’t used to people caring for him and it feels odd to allow it. And he sees the nervous energy inside of you brimming, like you’ve made a bad choice and you deserve the punishment.

Almost begged for it.

Your fists curl nervously in your lap, waiting for any sign that Joel had to offer.

And when he doesn’t respond, you find yourself curling into him out of instinct. Thighs spreading out over his lap as his hands follow the trail from your knees, up your thighs, until his thumbs are settling in the crease of your pelvis. You attempt a gentle kiss, but he’s reluctant to return it.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask quietly, a genuine curiosity in your voice.

Joel shakes his head slightly, but the hand guiding its way around your neck tells a different story, his fingertips rubbing against the softness of your jawline, forcing you to look at him properly.

“Nothin’ wrong, but I do think I need to remind you of somethin’,” Joel explains in a soft, but demeaning tone, “that when I tell you I can provide for you and don’t need anything in return—that I mean that.”

You wait with baited breath, blinking rapidly at how hot his breath feels against your skin, feeling your cunt throb with need, with an insatiable want for him.

“And since you wanna buy me a new pair of boots—well,” Joel chuckles darkly, feeling your fingers tighten into the thick fabric of his thermal, “you’re gonna have to help me break ‘em in.”

You look at him, perplexed. But, his pupils dilate under your gaze, the subtle shifting as he kicks off his old, tattered boots as nods subtly to the new pair behind you.

You sigh breathily, “Huh—Oh, you want me to—”

“Ride my boot, baby,” He tells you clearly, “Seein’ as it is my gift and all.”

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation as you slipped from his lap, table skidding back deftly in the process—you grab for the new pair of work boots but Joel is quickly grabbing your face again, squeezing your cheeks sharply.

“Undress first.” Joel says, waiting for your nod of acknowledgement before he lets you go.

So, you do—layer by layer until you reach your bra, unhooking it with nimble fingers as he slips on his new boots. If this were anyone else, you would feel ridiculous. But, with Joel, there was something there, brewing on the surface. He respected you, but he also needed you to understand.

It was a little humiliating, but it wasn’t the worst thing.

Your fingers edge along the hem of your underwear when Joel stops your hands, “Keep those on.” He utters, his fingers dragging softly against the front of the cotton material until he’s cupping your pussy in his palm, soft wet spot growing in the fabric where his fingertips drag across—you’re enjoying this, clearly.

You lower yourself slowly, straddling his left leg with your knees tucked against the bottom of the couch he sat on, pressing your cunt against the cold leather of his steel-toed boot.

Joel relaxes then, arms spread wide over the back of the couch, fingers gripping loosely into the cushion. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart.” Joel comforts, sensing your brimming nervousness as your fingers trailed along his calf, the hard press of his boot right against your core and if you tried hard enough, it wouldn’t take long at all—knowing that even just a little bit of encouragement from Joel and friction could have you coming undone. But, he wants you to work for it.

You start slow, a subtle grind of your hips that shouldn’t feel as good as it does. You sigh softly at the relief, noticing the slowly growing smirk on Joel’s face that you’re trying to avoid, eyes falling shut slowly as you tip your head back, allowing a slow rhythm to start.

“Feels good?” Joel wonders, “Like the idea of me carryin’ somethin’ of you around with me?”

In more ways than one—by a simple gift from the kindness of your heart, but also the desperation of the slick that damped your underwear and painted a perfect mess over his boot.

You nod quietly, moaning softly as you angle your hips to allow the drag of your clit over the solidness of the boot, friction sending your eyes rolling back in your head, hands fisting into the thick denim and selfishly using it for leverage as you quickened your pace.

“That’s right, baby—want you to think about coming all over my boot for me,” Joel encourages, “can you do that?”

Truthfully, you were holding back. Seeing just how much you could get out of him.

But, Joel catches onto your game.

“You need a little encouragement?” Joel asks curiously, chin cupped in his strong grip, nodding obediently. “Think you deserve that, baby?”

“Please—please, Joel.” You beg, “Fuck—please, I’ll do—”

“Don’t say anything, darlin’.” He warns, “Not when you don’t know what that means for you.”

He keeps your eyes locked on his, squeezing your cheeks gently when you start to fade, the slowly building tingle in your core that wasn’t as easily ignorable now, coiled in your belly and ready to explode. You lose yourself for a brief second, hand fisting into the slack bunch of denim atop his thigh, earning a dull but stern slap to your cheek to bring your attention back to him.

“Eyes on me, baby,” Joel coos, fisting the hard line of his cock under the strained denim with his free hand, looking slightly pained at how much he was holding back himself, “look at you—always eager to please, huh?”

You roll your eyes slightly—and Joel really doesn’t like that. His hand cradling the base of your neck as he holds you still, body pulled just centimeters away from his boot, leaving your pussy throbbing with a lack of contact that your body craved.

“Now you just look a little pathetic, don’t you?” Joel asks, “All needy for my fuckin’ boot—got her beggin’ for it, don’t I?” And you know he’s not addressing you directly, rather the pool of your own slick, shiny wetness on the toe of his boot that gives you away.

He nudges it against your clit gently, earning a soft whine as you hips instinctively seek for friction—Joel takes a slightly more firmer stance, head cradling both of his hands as he holds you prisoner in his gaze, two thick fingers slipping into your open mouth and grinning at how pathetically and greedily you suck on the digits without having to be told, removing them with a loud pop and a thin string of spit that connects you to him.

And if he was a stronger man, he could hold off. But, he’s so weak around you he can’t even hide it. He lets go in an instant, reaching for the front of his own jeans as he shoves them down his hips until he can manage to slip his cock out over his underwear, fisting himself in an instant.

Staving himself on patrols was torture when all he could think about was you—so he knows it won’t take much. Hell, he’s surprised with how long he’s been able to hold off now.

You admire with a haughty gaze, slowly resting back against the base of his boot, watching his free hand slip under his heavy sack, massaging as he jerks his fist without much rhythm, blinded by his own selfish need for release.

“Keep goin’,” He encourages through a tight breath, “but don’t fuckin’ come, darlin’.”

Your hole clenches and flutters around nothing, wishing that it was his cock stuffed inside of you rather than the plane of his boot pressed against your pussy, the thickness of his fingers alongside the girthiness of his cock a blatant reminder of how deeply you felt him in the mornings and even days after, always fucked so throughly it had you reeling and constantly crawling back for more.

He jerks himself selfishly, eyes falling shut as he feels himself dragging too close to the edge, your moans gaining in intensity, knowing how pathetic you would both look to anyone else. But, there was no one to judge you here—and Joel was beyond feeling the need to be assertive, rather just needing you, to be inside you and have you snug around him and crying on his cock.

Joel pulls you out of your daze hastily, manhandling you until you’re back is flat against the couch, quickly shoving his jeans down far enough that they don’t become a hindrance as he pulls your underwear aside and slips inside of you with a solid push of his hips, the slickness of your cunt allowing no resistance as you both groan at how good it feels, eyes connecting for a brief moment before everything goes black…or white.

Joel isn’t sure what he sees, but it only takes a few minutes of some hurried and desperate pumps of his hips as his cock nudges that particular spot deep inside of you that has you clawing at the bare skin you could reach, leaving red marks on his neck as he snaps his hips with a finality, coming with a low groan that has your legs shaking, bent nearly in half as he still manages to see through his own haze and drag his fingers over your clit—it doesn’t take more than a couple seconds before you're there, spasming around his cock with a sob, gasping at his overstimulating touch as he continues to press and circle your clit until you’re begging him to stop, his hips slowly pumping his cum inside of you.

Joel finds himself laying slack against you, pants down at his ankles as he allows your fingers to thread through his grown out curls from where his head rests against your chest, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart.

“I appreciate the boots,” He says after a while, “if that wasn’t already obvious.”

“Oh, I’m aware.” You giggle softly.

“Seriously, no more gifts, though.” Joel says sternly, “I mean it.”

You pout slightly and Joel catches it, his eyes flicking up to look at you.

“I’m makin’ no promises to that.” You tell him truthfully.

Joel chuckles softly, “Can’t say I expected you to, either.”

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x fem!reader #my writing #pedrostories

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billskeis · 5 months

Note

Ur writing has me kicking my feet and giggling🤭🤭

Anyway, could you maybe write a light smit type fic with 2010 Tom and a fem!reader who wears like miniskirts and crop tops(lowkey slutty). And like, enemies to lovers where Tom acts like he hates all of the outfits but in reality they just have him in a chokehold.

(Only if ur comfy with it but do whatever you want) keep up the good writing💕💕

ᡣ𐭩 jean to jean action w tom

he attempted to swallow a hard lump in his throat, mouth pursed together as his jaw clenched. he watched how you applied the lip gloss onto your lips while you stared at your reflection in the mirror.

you weren’t the only one relishing in how you looked tonight.

tom absolutely hated the shit that you wore whenever you guys went to house parties, for him, that means he isn’t the only one who gets to see you like this.

“y/n, do you have to wear that tonight?” you turn your head to look at tom with a stern look, “there’s nothing wrong with what i’m wearing tonight, i look good, don’t i?” tilting your head teasingly staring at him, not breaking eye contact. “yeah fucking right..”

he scoffs, kissing his teeth while shaking his head, “y/n. you know how men are, especially when we go out.. they’re fucking animals,” he stares you up and down to reflect on what attire you had put on this time.

showing off most if not all your skin, you wore a denim miniskirt that stops right above the cheeks of your ass, kitten heels, and a crop top that oh—doesn’t stop at your midriff, stops right above your boobs. you show off your belly piercing, it dangles whenever you take a step or move. sometimes when you raise your arms to stretch, a bit of your tattoo between your chest shows a bit. this drives him fucking insane.

you look at him, seriously?

it’s unlike him to actually say something as such, as he’s always been such an asshole about it. you would think he would get tired from the countless comments he makes about your choice of clothing which were on YOUR body. you don’t understand what his problem is. it wasn’t even like the two of you were together so why does he get a say in what you’re wearing?

you take a step, slowly, heels clacking with each movement. following you, tom backs up with every movement of yours he’s right behind you. eventually, he stumbles upon himself and falls onto the couch. you stand there, above him, smirking as he looks up at you somewhat embarrassed.

“don’t act like you haven’t been eye fucking me the whole night, tom,” you sit straddling his lap, bodies fully not touching yet. he attempts to look away not knowing what to do but you grab his braids from the back of his head making him look into your direction. “i know you want me,” “and what if i do?”

now this just took a turn.

given the situation, his hands snake around your waist to which you push them back and hold them down onto the couch, “mmh nn, what do you think you’re doing? since you wanna act brave and tell me about what i can and cannot wear,” he groans, “fuck, y/n you’re killing me over here..”

“are you gonna let me wear what i want tonight?” you’re now sat on his lap and you begin grinding your hips onto his crotch, an obvious hard on forming as you can feel it through his jeans. his eyes widen at your boldness.

now he was bold, but now that he’s met some competition.. he doesn’t know what to do.

“u-ugh.. y/n stop, we gotta go in like twenty minutes,” “no tom, listen to me. are you going to let me wear what i want, hm?” grinding down even harder, the friction becoming arousing, you feel yourself becoming wetter every time you rotate your hips on tom.

with every second, he feels himself losing composure. he brings a hand from the couch to lift up the denim miniskirt you had on, seeing the wet spot on your panties grow bigger, dropping his head onto the couch letting you do all the work. “so? what’s it gonna be babe,” you bounce a bit on tom to where he’s now grabbing your hips, guiding your body to bring him closer to the edge.

“fuckfuckfuck fine, you can wear it just.. once we come back just know to be prepared for what comes next..” “mmhm, we’ll see about that,” the both of you now move in sync, you lean in to kiss tom, tongues tangling with one another.

tom deepens the kiss as he feels your tongue purposely lick his lip piercing. as you kiss one another, the two of you both feel your high coming closer, tom losing his composure faster than you are. breaking the kiss, a string of saliva keeps the two of you connected, “gonna come f’me pretty boy?” tom nods as he ruts his clothed crotch into yours.

despite the presence of your clothes, the sensation of it feels amazing. circling your hips together, the feeling through your panties of tom’s jean hem hitting your clit is just right.

“coming..!” tom groans, snaking both arms around your naked waist, he thrusts himself to an orgasm, shaking a bit. you allow tom to ride his high out, grinding slowly but harshly as you feel your own orgasm coming. it’s obvious his hit harder than yours as you were able to quickly compose yourself. him on the other hand, not so much.

“baby..” tom breathes deeply as he tries to catch his breath, you get off his lap and kiss his cheek, wiping a bit of the sweat off his forehead. giggling you begin to walk away, “m’ gonna change my bottoms, you should too,” turning to enter your shared bedroom.

he looks down at the now obvious wet spot on his jeans, not knowing if the cum on it is yours or his.

“fuck, i really wanted to wear these..”

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel smut #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x reader #2000s #fyp

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autumnshighlady · 4 months

Text

Run For Your Life (pt. 2)

Dark!Azriel x dark!reader

summary: you've been with Azriel for 6 months now, and you began to embrace your twisted side. Azriel finds out what happens with you're pissed off, and you decide to punish him.

special dedication to @febbrile for giving me this idea for part 2

warnings: DARK FIC! both Az and reader are unhinged psychos, sub!azriel, dom!reader, flirting, possessiveness, knife play, orgasm denial, masturbation, face sitting, gore and violence, terrible communication, there's one thing that's deliberately left unclear (send me an ask with what you think it is / what actually happened)

word count: 8.7k

see the playlist for this fic

read part 1 here

A/N: As you may know, i've had a very rough few days. I was going to take a break from writing but decided to finish this fic up first, so the last 500 ish words are rushed and i apologize for that but i hope you enjoy anyway

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

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“I’m going to have so much fun with you.” He purred before his shadows encompassed him and he vanished, leaving you alone wondering what just happened.

SIX MONTHS LATER

You tapped your nails on the wooden bartop, scowling. The whiskey burned your throat, but you barely felt it. You were pretty sure a male from a few seats down from you was trying to get your attention, but his yappy voice faded into the background. The skin tight black dress you donned was constricting, making your skin sticky and sweaty. But you paid it no mind, for your attention was elsewhere.

Azriel was chatting with a pretty female over by the counter where you order food. She was tall and leggy, curly black hair swept into an elegant updo that showed off the open back of her dress. Her hand was brushing against Azriel’s arm, her head thrown back in a high pitched laugh at a joke that surely can’t have been that funny. Anger shot through your veins as Azriel’s white canines flashed in a charming smile, not even glancing your direction.

You couldn’t decide whose throat you wanted to slit more.

For the past six months, Azriel’s visits had become an everyday routine. At first, you had resisted, attempting to fight him off as you began to realise one night wasn’t enough to satisfy his obsession with you. He always emerged victorious, always getting what he wanted in the end, your traitorous body urging you to let him take care of you. It had taken you a few weeks to come to your senses, but you were glad. Azriel knew exactly how to take care of you, not just in the bedroom, but in everyday life. He chose your outfits for you, your meals, your nights out, everything. At first, you hated it. But now, it was freeing. You no longer had to worry about anything, knowing Azriel would take care of it.

Azriel took excellent care of things that belonged to him.

Every cell in your body needed him now. He was like oxygen, a constant requirement to keep your body going. Every second the shadowsinger spent away from you was pure torture, leaving you a whiny mess when he returned from work. To anyone else, it would seem pathetic, like you were a helpless wreck of a female. But they couldn’t be more wrong. It was the opposite – it made you powerful. Not only did you belong to Azriel, but Azriel belonged to you. You had the spymaster of the Night Court all to yourself, wrapped around your finger and ready to bend the world to your whim.

Except it didn’t feel that way right now, as the male you were now completely obsessed with was eyeing up the cleavage on another female. You scowled harder as he did nothing to deter the female as she stepped even closer to him, practically crawling into his lap. The bartender handed you another shot, and you angrily downed it, not even feeling the burn.

A male slid into the seat next to you, so close you could smell his cheap cologne. He was on the shorter side, blonde shaggy hair framing his boyish face. Large eyes drank in your figure hungrily, and he slid a hand up your back with the confidence of a much more attractive male. “Another drink for the lady over here.” He said to the bartender, flashing you what he must have thought was a charming smile. “So, what’s a pretty female like you doing–”

“Fuck off.” You grumbled, interrupting him. You reached behind and slapped his arm off your back, his skin like a wad of slime on your own.

“Oh, come on, baby,” The male persisted. “I just bought you a drink. The least you could do is entertain me.”

You groaned inwardly, sneaking a glance at Azriel. He had finally looked up at you, hazel eyes simmering with rage. The female leaning against him was too busy giggling to notice that his attention was no longer on her. His scarred hand was limp on her waist, his body frozen as he glared at you. It made you snort, how hypocritical he was being to only look at you when another male had your attention, despite him being the one with a female draping herself all over him.

So you ignored the shadowsinger. Let him have a hissy fit, as far as you were concerned he was going to fuck the pretty female anyway. If he can branch out, why can’t you. You quickly downed the drink the bartender sat in front of you, then turned toward the blonde male next to you, giving him your best sultry look. “I have a better idea,” You purred. “Why don’t I entertain you somewhere else?”

His eyes widened, a look of surprise and glee crossing his face as he fumbled to toss some money to the bartender for the drinks. You gathered your purse, turning around to meet Azriel’s stare once again. Rage came off him in waves, causing the few fae around him to scatter themselves elsewhere. Even the female that had been all over him had taken a step back in uncertainty, her eyes flickering between him and where his gaze was fixed – you. The spymaster’s body was frozen, a muscle in his neck twitching in anger. You half expected him to storm over and fling the male aside, grab you by the waist and drag you home to punish you. But he did no such thing. He only glared at you as you grabbed the male by the arm, leading him towards the exit.

You didn’t glance back at Azriel as the male followed you out of the bar and down the road towards the nearby motel.

**********************

Sunlight crept in through the small window next to the bed. The motel’s breakfast was dry and tasteless on your tongue, but you downed it anyway. The bed sheets were half on the floor, your dress from last night draped across the chair in the corner. You were wearing the male’s button-up shirt, the itchy fabric pungent with his scent mixed with yours, the bottom barely long enough to cover your ass. It was uncomfortable, but your dress got ruined last night anyway. You’d have to find somewhere to dispose of it properly.

You had a pounding headache, but the memories from last night couldn’t have been more clear. The images of Azriel’s angry glare, the male’s hands on your body, the pathetic noises he made for you after you left the bar, they were all crystal clear in your mind. You were still furious with Azriel, but satisfied that you got him back.

However, a part of you knew he was angrier than ever before. There had not been a trace of his presence all night, not even his shadows that seemed to always be around you, reporting your every movement back to him. Evidently, he hadn’t even tried to find out where you had gone last night. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous – either Azriel had abandoned you completely, or he was sitting at home, just waiting for you to return.

You shuddered, wondering what he was going to do to you. Maybe he truly would leave you for the other female, maybe that’s how mad he was.

No. You weren’t going to let him do that.

You downed the rest of the breakfast, gathering your things to get ready to check out. You sighed when you realised you had no pants, as the only thing the male had left behind was his undershirt. You stuffed your ruined dress in a paper bag, shut off the lights and left the motel room, not caring that your ass was nearly on display for the world to see.

First stop was to find some pants, and then you had business to take care of.

**********************

Luckily, it didn’t take you long to find a store to obtain some pants. Everyone had stared at your bare legs as you wandered in, but you didn’t care. In fact, it made you chuckle. If Azriel was here, he would have gone ballistic. He was the only one allowed to see you like this. If he knew that over a dozen people had seen your ass cheeks in the last hour, you couldn’t even imagine what he’d have done.

With a set of pants, you had returned to the bar, posing as a friend of the female Azriel was with last night and trying to find out more about her. The mother seemed to be on your side that day, as one of the bartenders was a close friend of hers. He blabbed easily, and within minutes you were able to find out her name, where she usually went on Saturday mornings like this one, and where she lived. Her name was Beatrice, and she always went to the farmer’s market every weekend to pick up fresh vegetables for the week. She lived in a house near the theatre, right in the heart of the city.

So you wandered towards the farmer’s market, hair down and hanging loosely around your face to hide it. The air was crisp and fresh, chatter from the market filling the air as you hovered in the corner, pretending to sift through a barrel of apples.

It wasn’t hard to spot Beatrice. Her curly black hair was trailing down her back, her cheeks flushed with evidence of a hangover. She wore a simple pair of black leggings and a yellow sweater, a cheerful smile on her face as she chatted with one of the vendors. It was almost annoying how she looked just as elegant as she had last night. You made sure to trail her from a distance, staying out of her sight. You wondered if Azriel would be proud, but shook off the thought as soon as it came.

Once you were sure Beatrice only had a few more things to pick up at the market, you slunk down one of the alleys and headed towards her house. You knew it was the fastest way, allowing you to get to her house before she did.

It was a modest home, sunflowers lining the windowsill and a small swing on the porch. The trim was a deep brown, the wooden accents giving it a charming feel. You crept towards one of the windows along the side of the house, sneaking a glance behind you to ensure nobody was watching. You knew breaking into a house in one of the busiest parts of the city was risky. But that was also the beauty of it – there was so much going on that nobody paid attention to you.

It wasn’t hard to take a small knife and pop open the window then crawl through. You gently closed it behind you, then scanned the interior. You were in the living room, and you couldn’t deny that it impressed you. An elegant piano was in the corner, a large couch next to it with a soft-looking blanket with butterflies on it draped over the top. Various trinkets were scattered across the room, ranging from ancient-looking candle holders to a small music box designed to look like a bird cage.

You couldn’t scent Azriel in the room, much to your surprise. But that surprise was replaced by anger – if he hadn’t taken her here, then he could have taken her to his home. The thought made you see red, but you took deep breaths and settled yourself on the sofa. Beatrice would be home any minute.

About ten minutes later, the sound of keys turning the lock at the door snapped your attention back to the present. The door opened, and Beatrice entered with a large bag of vegetables. She didn’t notice you at first, closing the door behind her and turning the lock shut.

“You know, you should really lock your windows too.” You spoke casually, and the female whirled around in fright, dropping her groceries. Her brown eyes widened in fear as they met yours, and you smirked.

“What… who the hell are you and why are you in my living room?” Beatrice stammered, backing herself up against the door.

You snorted, fiddling with the necklace you had picked up off the coffee table. It was the one she was wearing last night, you remembered – a gold chain with a small emerald. “Oh, come on,” You snorted. ‘You clearly didn’t have that much to drink last night, seeing as you were able to grocery shop this morning. Think harder.”

She frowned, and then her face went slack as the realisation appeared to hit. “You were at the bar last night. I saw you leave with that blonde male. Azriel was furious about it.”

Bingo. “Ah, so you know Azriel then.”

“Not really. We met last night and flirted. It was going well until he saw you with that male, then things got tense.”

Your voice was cold as ice as you spoke. “So Azriel flirted back, then?”

Beatrice shrugged. “Yes? I see no issue with that considering you left with another male, I assumed you weren’t together. Would you mind telling me what the fuck is going on so you can leave?”

“Come, sit.” You patted the space next to you. Beatrice stayed still for a moment, then carefully walked over to the couch. Her body was tense as she sat down, her breathing shallow.

“Look,” She said slowly. “I don’t know what the deal between you two is. I thought he was available, because he flirted back with me. He did not mention you, and I am sorry about that. But then he went quiet when he saw you with the male, and he was furious when you left with him. He tried to keep flirting with me after, tried to convince me to let him come home with me, but I turned him down. I wasn’t about to be caught up between some weird power struggle between what seems to be a fighting couple. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to let him use me as revenge. So I rejected his advances and went home alone. That’s all, I promise.”

You swallowed the bile in your throat. Azriel had started this by flirting with Beatrice, you had every reason to retaliate. You knew Azriel probably wanted to take her home, but hearing it out loud made it even worse.

Your face must have given it away, because Beatrice’s expression softened a bit. “I’m sorry, I really am. This must be hard to hear.” She said quietly. “But in his defence, you went home with another male–”

“Shut up!” You yelled, slamming a fist into the table in front of you and making it shake. “Don’t defend him, I wouldn’t have gone home with that male if Azriel hadn’t been flirting with you first.”

Beatrice flinched away from you, fear beginning to creep back into her expression once again as she stood up. “I’m sorry,” She said. “I’m not here to judge you. I don’t want any part of this. But I’ve explained my side to you, so I think it’s best you leave.”

Beatrice walked over to where her groceries lay all over the floor and began picking them up. You bit your lip so hard you nearly drew blood, fist trembling with anger. You knew you should feel relieved that Azriel hadn’t fucked Beatrice, but that wasn’t enough.

So you took deep breaths, relaxing your body and leaning back into the soft cushion. “I’m better, you know.” You said, voice dropping huskily.

The female froze, turning around to face you once again. “What?”

“I’m better than Azriel.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh, I think you do.” Your voice purred like a cat as you stood up, walking over to Beatrice. She didn’t move as you closed in on her space, your body less than a foot from hers. You could smell her sweet scent, honey and lavender, you noted. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, and you leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Azriel is good in bed, but not as good as I am. Sure, he would have given you an enjoyable night, a great one even. And since Azriel is mine, and he failed to give you what you sought after, I feel I am obligated to fulfil your needs in his stead.”

Beatrice inhaled sharply, and you chuckled. You had always enjoyed bedding both males and females, and it had been so long with you submitting to Azriel that you had almost forgotten what it was like to seduce a beautiful female.

“I don’t want to get caught up in whatever this is between you two…” Beatrice’s voice was weak, the scent of her growing arousal betraying her lie.

“Oh, but this is just between you and me.” You said coolly, brushing a curly lock from her face. “Our little secret.”

When you cupped her cheek, she leaned into your touch. Satisfied, you smiled and stepped closer, pressing your body against hers. Your lips brushed hers as you spoke. “I need to hear you say it,” You murmured, caressing her waist with your free hand. “That you want me. Not him.”

“I…” Beatrice’s voice was barely above a whisper. She leaned forward in an attempt to connect her lips with your own, but you drew back.

“Be a good girl and say it.”

“I want you, not him.” She moaned as you squeezed her waist gently. “Please.”

You smiled, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the door at the back where you knew her bedroom was.

**********************

The sun was setting as you made your way back home, a small bag of vegetables in hand. The orange rays from the sunset reflected off the emerald necklace, the chain cold as ice around your neck. You knew Azriel would be waiting for you, and you were ready. You ignored the chill of the wind, still in the male’s shirt whose name you never bothered to learn. It offered you little protection against the cold, and you looked forward to the warmth of your home.

Stepping up to your door, the house looked empty. It was an illusion to anyone who walked by. You could sense Azriel’s presence in there, like an icy frost on the wood just waiting to bite you. But you didn’t care what Azriel’s wrath would bring. You had your own plan.

You swung open the door, locking it behind you and placing the bag of vegetables on your counter.

“Would you mind telling me where the fuck you’ve been?”

Having expected him to make a dramatic out-of-the-dark entrance, you didn’t flinch like you used to when he’d sneak up on you. You sighed in annoyance, knowing it’d infuriate him more. “Farmer’s market.” You said dryly.

Azriel’s towering form appeared from the shadows, coming across to face you on the other side of the counter. You knew he was glaring at you, but you didn’t spare him a glance. “From sunup to sundown?” He demanded.

You shrugged, laying out the vegetables. “It was a busy farmer’s market.”

A shadow found its way to your chin, yanking it up and forcing you to look at him. The sight of Azriel made you gulp. His eyes were darker than you’d ever seen, the anger coming off of him in waves. If you were anyone else, you’d have cowered in fear. But you only raised an eyebrow. “Don’t lie to me.” He said icily. “You were with that male last night, were you with him today, too?”

“Why the fuck does it matter to you?” You spat. “You were too busy burying your dick inside that female to notice me. Not my fault someone else finished what you couldn’t.” The words were completely untrue, but you didn’t care. You just needed them to land their mark.

Azriel laughed heartlessly, but the anger in his eyes grew stronger. “Are you really that fucking pathetic that I’m not allowed to take my attention off of you for five minutes? Is that all it takes for you to go crawling to the nearest male ready to get fucked?”

“She was flirting with you, you absolute prick!” You screamed at him, ripping away from the shadow’s grip and storming towards the bedroom. “And you flirted back! Don’t act like you’re the victim here. You wanted to make me jealous, but what? You didn’t think I was capable of doing the same?”

Azriel followed you. “Don’t walk away from me.”

You tried to slam the door in his face, but his muscular arm caught it, easily prying it open. Azriel roughly grabbed you and slammed you into the wall. You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but he didn’t budge. “You’re the one who fucked someone else, not me.” He growled.

You chuckled manically. “Is that what you think happened, Az?”

His grip tightened, bruising your arms. “Don’t play dumb, you stupid whore. I saw you leave with him.”

You kept chuckling, body singing with adrenaline. You saw Azriel’s gaze go down to your body, where an unmistakably male shirt clung to you. The look in his eyes was positively murderous. Wordlessly, he let go of you and you fell to the ground, continuing to laugh at him as he went towards the door.

“Where are you going?” You asked through giggles.

Azriel grabbed truth-teller from his waist, turning to face you. “You have one chance to tell me where that male is, or I will find him myself.”

You pushed yourself up, sighing and letting out another sick laugh. Excitement bubbled in you as you spoke. “I’m not sure there will be much left of him to find.”

For the first time since you’d met him, Azriel’s eyes widened in surprise. He went utterly still, hand frozen on the door handle. Nothing moved, except for you. You were practically buzzing, a new kind of high taking over you.

“What are you talking about?” Azriel’s voice was low.

**********************

The male’s hands were all over you as you walked towards the motel. You resisted the urge to squirm away at his teenager-like giddiness. You didn’t feel the cold night air, your body was hot with adrenaline.

“I can’t wait to fuck you, baby.” The male said breathlessly, squeezing your ass with one hand.

You let out a fake laugh, but lead him off the cobblestone road. The motel was a few feet away, but that wasn’t where you wanted to take him. Your heels sunk into the mud, dirtying your feet as you headed towards the dark trees in the distance. You felt the male slow behind you.

“Aren’t we going to the motel?” He asked with uncertainty.

“What fun would that be?” You grabbed his hand and pulled him harder. “Come on, trust me.”

The moron just shrugged and continued to follow you. It was another ten minutes before you found a clearing, having nearly tripped over giant roots to get there. This place would do nicely, you decided.

You turned around to face the male, but his shirt was already off and he was in the process of unbuttoning his pants. “Adventurous!” He said excitedly. “I am so fucking hard baby, if you don’t get on your knees and do something about it now I think I might die.”

“Yes,” You said, sliding the knife out of the holster on your thigh. “You will.”

The male barely had a chance to speak before you brought the dagger up and slashed it across his face. Blood spurted from the nasty gash as he fell down, sobbing and clutching his face. His pants were down at his knees, a truly pathetic sight.

“There’s only one male allowed to touch me,” You said calmly. “And if he found out you laid your hands on me, he would do much worse to you than what I’m going to do. So be grateful.”

The male sobbed, pleading and begging pathetically for you to spare his life. But you weren’t phased. After all, your words were true. Nothing you did to him could compare to what Azriel would have done. You were proud of yourself for granting him this mercy. You didn’t know this male at all, know if he’d done anything to deserve a more painful death. But truthfully, you didn’t care.

You leaned down over him, pressing your body into his. It made you want to vomit, but you needed as much of his scent on you as possible. “I want you to thank me.” You said sternly. “Thank me for being merciful. Without me, your death would be stretched over the span of months, if not years. So thank me.”

“Thank you!” The male shouted. “Please, let me go!” It seemed he would do anything you asked if he thought there was a chance at sparing his life. But there wasn’t.

You slashed the dagger across his throat, and hot blood spurted all over you, coating your dress. The male choked on his own blood, sick gurgling sounds echoing throughout the eerie quietness of the clearing. It didn’t take long for the light to fade from his eyes, and death finally claimed him.

Satisfied, you stood up and headed over to the creek to wash the blood off your skin and wipe down the dagger. The water was refreshing, soothing your warm cheeks. You grabbed the male’s discarded shirt and pulled your ruined dress off, rolling the fabric into a ball and stuffing it into your purse. Pulling the shirt over your head, you strode back in the direction of the motel, knowing the wolves will have gotten rid of the body for you by sunhigh.

**********************

You smirked as Azriel stared you down after you told him the story, dumbfounded. His lack of ability to comprehend that you killed the male was almost insulting, but you mostly found it funny. He looked adorable with his eyes wide and his jaw slack, shock written all over his pretty face. It made your blood sing.

“You killed him.” It was more of a statement than a question. No judgement laced Azriel’s deep voice, just awe. Almost as if he was impressed.

“I did.” You said proudly, crossing your arms over your chest. “You would have been proud of me, Az, if you were there. If you had actually paid attention to me instead of trying to fuck Beatrice.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed, and you instantly realised your mistake. He took a step towards you, cocking his head. “I never told you her name.”

You cursed inwardly at your slip up. You had gotten so caught up in sticking it to Azriel that you mentioned Beatrice by name, something you weren’t supposed to do. Oh well, you’d just have to improvise. “No, you didn’t.” You purred, pointedly bringing your hand up to toy with the emerald necklace.

Azriel’s hazel eyes zoned in on the necklace, and his face went slack once again. “Did you kill her too?”

You giggled, the ice cold necklace a contrast against your warm fingers. “That doesn’t matter to you. Because you won’t get to fuck her, so it shouldn’t matter if she’s dead or alive.”

“She was innocent in this.” Azriel growled. “She didn’t know you were with me.”

“Innocent is hardly the word I’d use.” You snorted. “Besides, you don’t get to be a fucking hypocrite. So you can kill males who put their hands on me but I can’t do the same?”

“You shouldn’t have to!” Azriel hissed, towering over you with his wings flaring. “You are mine. It is my job to protect you, to keep your hands clean. You should not be involved in this shit”

You glared up at him. “I guess I’m just as twisted as you now.”

Something inside the spymaster shifted at your words, and his shoulders slumped. He reached his arms out and wrapped them around you, pulling you into his strong chest. You felt his chin rest against the top of your head, and he inhaled your scent. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” He murmured. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have ignored you, this is all my fault. Please forgive me, I cannot lose you. You are all I think about every breathing moment of my existence. There’s not a line in the world I wouldn’t cross for you. Please tell me how I can make it up to you.”

Part of you wanted to melt into Azriel’s arms, to let him shield you from the rest of the world. To lay you down and worship your body like a priest at the altar, making you feel good and see stars. He was so good at taking care of you, even when he was an ass about it he always knew exactly what you needed at that moment.

But for the first time, you didn’t give in, wanting to show that side of you that you had kept hidden from him. Until now. “You want to make it up to me, Az?” You cooed.

He nodded against your hair, squeezing tighter.

“Kneel.” You said firmly.

Azriel paused, pulling away but keeping his hands on your waist as he stared down at you in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said, kneel.” Your voice was edged like steel, a husky but harsh tone to it, one you hadn’t used in a while. At first, you weren’t sure if it would work. Azriel was a dominant male and loved control, seeing if he would be willing to give it up for you was a huge gamble.

But while Azriel had never uttered the words ‘I love you’, he had always promised you that you were his world, that he would do anything for you. And this was his chance to prove it.

“You think you’re in charge?” Azriel’s tone was light, testing the waters to see if you were serious or not. “Come on, sweetheart. You know how good I can make you feel. Let me take over, so you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about a thing.”

You stood with your chin high, unflinching as you repeated yourself. “Kneel.”

Azriel swallowed, and for a moment you thought he was going to laugh and walk out. But the male simply bowed his head, dropping to his knees and placing his scarred hands in his lap. You stepped back, satisfied as you admired the view. The silver moonlight through the windows cast beautiful highlights across the Illyrian. His glorious wings were flared out slightly, the bottom part lightly trailing on the ground. Azriel’s dark hair cast shadows across his face, the only light coming from it being his curious hazel eyes looking up at you. He looked like a fallen angel, a once mighty god begging at your feet.

Satisfaction flooded through your body. The roles would be reversed tonight, you decided. Azriel would be the one begging you this time. You began unbuttoning your shirt, and the male’s hands instinctively reached up to help, so you slapped them away. “Did I say you could move?” You demanded.

“No.” Azriel said sullenly, moving his hands back into his lap obediently. His eyes were dark, a turmoil of emotions behind them. You could tell he was fighting his instincts to assume his usual role, grabbing you and pinning you to the bed to do with as he pleased. But he was fighting to obey you, to give you satisfaction in a different form.

“Then stay there,” You commanded sternly. “And watch.”

Azriel’s throat bobbed, seemingly swallowing his protests as he nodded. You shed your shirt and pants, striding confidently over to your bedside drawer, letting your hips sway as you went. You could feel Azriel’s intense gaze burning into you with curiosity, making you chuckle inwardly. He was about to get a taste of his own medicine.

For months, Azriel had controlled your pleasure. He decided when you could touch yourself, when you were allowed to cum, how many times you could be pushed over the edge. And you gladly gave yourself to him, willingly subjecting yourself to his torturous teasing whenever he was mad at you. Once, the spymaster had edged you for an entire night until you passed out. Tears had streamed down your face for hours, body aching the next day from being so tense. Azriel was a generous lover, but a cruel one as well. And now it was your time to turn the tables on him.

You opened the drawer, grabbing the blue vibrator he had gifted you all those months ago. It hadn’t been used much since – there were only a few times when Azriel’s shadows would hold the vibrator to your clit as he pounded into you, as he preferred to use his own hands. As good as the vibrator was, it couldn’t compare to the spymaster’s touch. Which is why you knew he was about to be driven to madness.

Sexual weapon in hand, you walked back over to the kneeling Illyrian. You stopped centimetres from his face, which was level with your thigh. He was breathing heavy, eyes dark as he inhaled your scent. But he had learned from his previous mistake it seemed, as he kept his hands to his sides.

“Take off my panties.” You said coldly. “And do not use your hands.”

Azriel stared up at you, the hazel in his eyes barely visible. He leaned forward, his teeth finding the edge of your blue lace panties. They grasped it, his lips brushing your skin as sharp canines tugged at the fabric. He visibly shuddered, his lips so close to where he wanted them to be, yet not allowed to touch. The scent of your arousal was thick in the air, forcing Azriel to ignore it. You sucked in a breath as his eyes met yours as he managed to slowly pull them down your thighs, not breaking eye contact as they fell to your feet.

You stepped out of the fabric, kicking them to the side and turning around to settle yourself on the bed. You sat on the end, facing Azriel and slowly spreading open your legs. The male’s eyes zeroed in on your glistening cunt, and you noticed his hands trembling with effort to keep them at his sides. You turned on the vibrator, placing the suctioning tip against your clit. The sensation made your legs twitch at the sudden contact, and you let out a loud moan, letting your free hand cup your breast.

Admittedly, the moan was a bit of an exaggeration to piss off Azriel. Evidently, it worked. The shadowsinger was glaring at you. “Oh please,” He scoffed. “We both know that won’t be enough to satisfy you.”

You let out another sigh, kicking the vibrator’s intensity up a notch. “It’s more than you gave me last night. I wore one of your favourite dresses, and you didn’t even try to touch me. I’ve had to go and find satisfaction elsewhere, since you wouldn’t give me any.”

The room was stifling, the scent of Azriel’s arousal mixed with your own, and the faintest traces of Beatrice’s honey and lavender perfume clinging to your skin. You rocked your hips against the toy, your cunt weeping mere feet from Azriel’s desperate face.

“Stop.” He growled sternly. “Let me take care of you, sweetheart. Come on, you know I can do better than that toy.”

You ignored him, your other hand trailing from your breast across your collarbones, caressing all over your skin as you felt that familiar pressure build up in your stomach. It was a slightly foreign sensation, a different feeling than how the buildup to your orgasm when Azriel ate you out felt, or the way your body neared climax with his cock buried inside you. You imagined it was Azriel’s fingers on your clit, expertly working you as you came closer to your orgasm.

“Ok, this little act is over.” Azriel tried to sound firm, but there was a weakness in his voice that dimmed his threat. “Let me touch you. You know the rule – you’re not allowed to cum without my permission. And I don’t give you permission.”

You chuckled at the falter in his tone. “No. You are going to sit there and watch me do what you failed to do the other night. Your rules don’t apply tonight, Az, so suck it up. If you want to touch me, you’ll have to beg.”

Your voice went high pitched as your legs began to shake. Azriel’s protests faded into background noise as you came, your lower body heated and electrified as your orgasm went through you. It wasn’t as intense as some you’d had before, but the unceasing buzzing against your clit as you writhed through your high made you oversensitive.

Once you had come down from your climax, you set the vibrator aside, staring at Azriel. The veins in his arms were prominent with his effort to keep himself from pouncing on you. Disbelief was written all over his face, as if he couldn’t believe you had actually obeyed him. And that he had let you.

“I told you, your rules don’t apply tonight.” You panted heavily. “Now remove your clothes and lay down on the bed.”

Azriel scrambled to his feet, glaring at you but obliging anyways. He smirked confidently as he peeled his shirt off, revealing those rock hard abs that you loved riding so much. You could never get enough of his body, no matter how many times he stripped in front of you. He was truly a work of art from head to toe.

The spymaster unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down to reveal his rock hard erection. Your mouth watered at the sight of his naked form, but you did not budge. You only stared at him coldly, rather than dropping to your knees and giving in like he had clearly expected. Letting out a huff of frustration, Azriel crawled onto his bed, flipping onto his back and settling in.

Shadows curled around his wrists, bringing his arms above his head and holding them prisoner there. Azriel’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief, and you giggled. It seems his shadows were on your side tonight.

You crawled over top of him, straddling his waist. His hard cock poked into your backside, making your core pulse against his muscled lower abs. You leaned over top of him, placing one hand beside his head and placing your face inches from his own. The spymaster was breathing heavily, staring up at you with awe.

“You weren’t good to me last night, Azriel.” Your voice dropped, a dangerous tone gleaming on the edge of it. “You flirted with another female when I had gotten all dressed up for you. Instead of even just looking at me, you tried to take her home and fuck her instead of me.”

“I didn’t f–” Azriel’s protest was cut off by a gasp, as you lifted your hips off of him and your free hand reached down and firmly gripped the base of his cock, just how he liked it. He choked on his words, eyes widening as you slowly moved your hand up and down.

“You think she’d be enough to satisfy you?” You teased, mocking his words to you earlier. “She satisfied me well enough. But she wouldn’t be able to give you what I can. She wouldn’t know how you like your cock stroked, but I do.”

To emphasise your point, you squeezed him tighter and twisted your wrist, letting your thumb graze the slit. Azriel let out a breathy moan, shutting his eyes.

“Look at me.” You snapped, forcing the male to open his eyes. He obliged, letting out little gasps as you continued to stroke him.

You leaned forward and let your lips graze his neck, your teeth skimming the skin ever so slightly as you picked up the pace of your strokes. Azriel whimpered underneath you – whimpered. The sound was pathetic and needy, and filled you with so much joy. His pretty face was scrunched up with effort, his hands writhing in his unrelenting shadows. You lightly sucked and bit all across his neck and collarbones, knowing that the feather light touches would drive him wild and send him towards his orgasm faster. You knew Azriel always lasted a long time, his god-like stamina making your body tremble as he relentlessly pounded you through orgasm after orgasm.

But you knew by the way his cock twitched in your hand that he wouldn’t last long like this. You let the tip of his cock graze your slit as you pumped, and the shadowsinger moaned loudly, his muscles flexing.

“You like that, pretty boy?” You cooed against his neck.

Azriel whimpered, bucking his hips into your hand.

“None of that now,” You chastised. “I asked you a question.”

He exhaled. “Yes.” Was all he could manage through his moans.

“I can feel how close you are, it’s pathetic. Normally you last longer. Is this something you’ve dreamed of, baby? Hm? Tell me, do you want to cum?”

Azriel’s eyelids fluttered as he fought to keep still underneath you, a thin sheen of sweat coating his tanned body. “Yes! Gods, yes. Please.”

You sank your teeth into his neck, biting down harshly and making him cry out. Your hand next to his arm shifted, letting your fingertips graze the edge of his wing. “Beg for it then.”

“Please,” The spymaster whimpered. “I’ll do anything you want. Please, just let me cum. Please.”

You hummed, pretending to consider it. Just as his abs tensed signifying his nearing release, you sat up and released his cock. Azriel let out a frustrated yet pathetic groan. “What the fuck?” He protested.

“Not so fun being on the receiving end of that one, is it?” You asked, sitting down on his abs and lazily grinding yourself into them. “I know you’d rather die than admit that you secretly fucking loved it. How pathetic is that? The mighty spymaster of the Night Court, crying underneath me because I wouldn’t let him finish.”

Azriel’s face was deep red, his jaw clenched. A few strands of black hair clung to his forehead. “Please,” He begged with droopy eyes. “I fucked up. Let me make it up to you. Please, let me touch you. Let me make you feel good. Please, I need to touch you. I need you. All I want is to make you feel good.”

You scraped your nail down his chest, eliciting a shiver from the body beneath you. “Is that so?”

“Yes ma’am.”

A wave of arousal had rushed through your veins at not just the title, but the ease at which he said it. It rolled off his tongue so naturally. Sure, you had been called many names in the bedroom before in both submissive and dominant roles, but this was new. And you fucking loved it.

You gripped his chin firmly, letting your nails dig into the skin as you brought your face closer to his. “Say that again.”

He gulped. “Yes ma’am. Please, let me make you feel good.”

You chuckled darkly, sitting up. The shadows repositioned his arms slightly, giving more room on either side of Azriel’s head for what you were about to do, as if they knew already. “I’m going to sit on your face and use you like my own personal toy. You are going to choke on my cunt just as I have choked on your cock, and you are going to be grateful for it and thank me after. You do not get to touch me with your hands, and you will take what I give you. Am I clear?”

Azriel nodded vigorously, eyes gleaming. Truthfully, you knew this was a reward for him. There was nothing in this world he loved more than eating you out. He had often even encouraged you to ride his face. But never before had he not been able to grab your hips and touch you.

You climbed up his body, seating one knee on either side of his head where the shadows had now cleared space for you. As you slowly lowered your cunt towards his face, the Illyrian strained his neck to lift his head as high as he could in a pathetic attempt to get closer to your core.

Briefly, you recalled all the times Azriel had lectured you about how you refused to fully sit on his face, afraid you’d suffocate him. He’d always end up growling in frustration and grabbing your hips, firmly pulling you down so you were seated on his face.

It was time you showed him you learned your lesson.

With no warning, you lowered your cunt onto his face, fully seating yourself on it and grabbing onto his hair with both hands. Azriel groaned in delight underneath you, the sound sending vibrations right into your core. You moaned in relief, rocking your hips against his face. Lewd noises filled the room as Azriel ate you out like a man who hadn’t had a meal in days, eagerly slurping up all your juices. You shamelessly ground into his face, wanting more.

You cried out as his tongue shoved its way inside you, your clit scraping his nose in a way that made your legs twitch. For a second you wondered how Azriel was managing to breathe, but his relentlessness reassured you that he was perfectly fine somehow.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” You moaned. “It’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? Eating my pussy? Pretty boy is just a desperate little whore, isn’t that right?”

The noise Azriel made was muffled, but akin to a pathetic whimper. Something you knew would ring in your ears like a new favourite song.

It only took a few more minutes before your orgasm built up, barrelling towards you at rapid speed. Your thighs tensed up, clenching around his face as you came, yanking harshly on his silky hair. Azriel groaned as you did so, your juices coating his face. Part of you had been tempted to not let him make you finish, but you couldn’t help it. His mouth felt too good on you, something you had missed over the last few days.

Finally, you lifted yourself off Azriel’s face, hearing him take in a gasping breath as you did so. His hazel eyes were closed in bliss, face shiny from your juices as he panted for air. “Thank you, ma’am.” He murmured. You crawled down his body, seating yourself back on his abs while you collected your composure.

“You did so good, Az.” You purred, reaching behind you and gently brushing your fingers against his hard cock. “You’re so good to me. Now, have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Azriel said breathlessly.

“What lesson would that be?”

“Don’t flirt with other females.”

“Exactly.” You pulled out Truth-Teller from its sheath and pressed the sharp blade against his throat, the shadows having discreetly brought it to you from the spymaster’s discarded belt. “You are mine, and mine only. Nobody else gets to have you but me. Nobody gets to touch you but me. If they do, I will remove their hands and feed their body to the beasts in the woods. And if you try to touch another female in a manner I would not deem fit, it will be your body that gets fed to the creatures. Understood?”

Azriel’s hazel eyes were wide, filled with a mixture of awe, horror, and lust. It made you chuckle inwardly, how he seemed surprised that this is who you had become. You weren’t sure why he would be – he had become your new life, every fibre of your being tied to his and his alone. Azriel was unhinged and possessive to begin with, even more so now that he had you.

He was bad, but you were worse.

“Yes ma’am.” Azriel croaked out, swallowing against the cold metal of the blade.

“Good. Now you’ve made me cum, I think it’s only fair if I let you do the same, right?”

“You may do as you see fit, ma’am.”

A smile bloomed across your face. You could tell it was hard for him to say – his cock was hard as a diamond, his body begging for a release. But he chose the right answer. “Correct. You may fuck me now, any position you see fit. But you are not to cum without my permission.”

The second the shadows binding Azriel’s wrists together slipped away, his scarred hands grabbed your waist and flipped you over, pinning you underneath him. His eyes were frantic as if he worried you’d change your mind. He roughly spread your legs and you let him, relishing in the feeling of him over top of you. He lined up his cock with your entrance and slammed in.

You gasped, the air leaving your body. Azriel’s size was something you would never quite get used to. It had taken you a long time to be able to take him with no preparation, and even then it still hurt like hell for the first bit. But you learned to relish in the pain, especially when he praised you for taking him so well.

But there was no praise coming from his lips this time. Azriel fucked you relentlessly, chasing the pleasure that you had denied him earlier. His movements were frantic, a change from his usual deliberate pace. The room was filled with slapping sounds and moans. Azriel was hitting so deep inside of you that you began to feel dizzy, your eyes rolling back in your head.

Azriel had fucked you harder than anyone ever had before, but this was completely different. It took less than five minutes for Azriel to tense up, signifying he was approaching his orgasm quickly.

“You’re going to cum, aren’t you?” You teased, voice shaky with the force of his thrusts.

Azriel leaned over you, his head next to yours with one arm cradled around your head. “Yes! Please, I need it! Please let me cum.” His voice was utterly broken and fragmented.

You were silent for ten seconds, just long enough to feel the panic coming from him, making him think you were going to say no. But you brought a hand up and stroked his wing in that one spot you knew drove him crazy. “Yes. Good boy. Cum for me, Azriel.”

The spymaster erupted into a powerful orgasm the second his name finished leaving your lips. Hot seed filled your insides, making you cry out. His hips jutted against you as he came, his head tilted back exposing his throat as he moaned loudly, a single tear running down his cheek.

Azriel’s thrusts slowed as he rode out his orgasm, pumping his cum back into you as it spilled out of your hole. He panted, wings twitching as he pulled out and slumped down into the spot beside you on the bed. “Thank you, ma’am.”

You hummed, satisfied with your work. If you had told yourself months ago that you would be the one to break Azriel one night, you’d have laughed at yourself. It filled you with pride, seeing the stone cold, dominating shadowsinger become a whimpering mess all because of you.

It made everything you had done worth it.

You reached for Truth-Teller, propping yourself up beside him and putting the cold blade onto his skin, causing him to flinch and look at you in surprise. You trailed the knife down his body, circling it around where his heart was. You angled the blade, pressing the tip of it into his skin, right above the beating muscle. A thin trail of blood ran down from the cut. “This heart is mine. And if you try to give it to anyone else, I will carve it out of you myself.”

The shadowsinger was holding his breath, unmoving against your touch. You knew that he would easily be able to disarm you if he needed to, but there was still a hint of fear in his eyes.

No, he was not scared of you cutting his heart from his chest. He was scared of you running away from him.

You smirked, satisfied at his reaction. You weren’t going anywhere. You were right here with Azriel, where you belonged.

#azriel #azriel x reader #sub!azriel #sub!azriel x reader #azriel smut #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #dark!azriel x reader #dark!azriel #acotar smut #a court of thorns and roses #dark fic #smut #dom!reader

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absurdthirst · 6 months

Text

High Infidelity {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.1k

Warnings: Cheating, fraud, mentions of divorce, payback, forced cuckolding, restraints, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, revenge sex

Comments: When you find out that your husband is banging the neighbor's wife, you and the neighbor decide to make them pay.

Co-written with @pedropascalsx

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The moment was bittersweet, finding out that your suspicions were correct and that he could no longer gaslight you was a temporary feeling of relief. Quickly replaced with hurt and devastation. He was your childhood sweetheart, your first and only love, and for the better part of a year he has been sleeping with the woman next door.

The same woman whose kids you babysat during the week to let her and her husband have a peaceful date night, the same woman who had sat in your kitchen a few nights earlier with a group a mutual friends and drank your wine, the same woman who had held your hand and reassured you the night that you found out your husband wasn’t able to have children.

Rewatching the footage of them kissing as they entered the bedroom you shared, him ripping off her dress as she unbuttoned his shirt made your heart lurch. Never would you have imagined it was with Carol York.

The signs he was cheating were there from day one; being overprotective of his phone, working late, charges on your joint account that just weren’t adding up and then the biggest cliche of all; lipstick on his collar.

The urge to confront him was bubbling up in your stomach, and then you thought about Dave… Did he know? Did he suspect anything? Should you tell him?

After going back and forth a few times you had settled on yes, he deserves to know. So you pick up your laptop, and slide in under your arm. Ready to go next door and tell him everything.

****

Rolling his eyes after the doorbell peels, Dave sighs and stands up from the kitchen table. His laptop open and report that was making his head throb was never fun but distractions just makes it harder to get back to work. Especially since the house is actually quiet with the girls at school and Carol at work. Moving towards the door, he opens it to find you, his next door neighbor waiting. He hums your name in surprise and wonders if something is wrong. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you reply with a weak smile, “I’m really sorry to interrupt whatever it is that you’re doing, but we need to talk.”

“Everything alright?” Your face is filled with concern and he’s immediately on guard, eyes sliding behind you and not seeing anything that would have him reaching for the pistol kept in the entryway table.

“Honestly, no,” you admit with an uncomfortable laugh, “Can I come in? I don’t think it’s something I should tell you standing at your door.”

Frowning, Dave stands back and lets you in the house. He normally doesn’t like having someone - especially female - at the house when Carol isn’t here. Busybodies talk and he hates that kind of shit. “What’s going on?” He asks as he closes the door.

“Thank you,” you say as you walk into the kitchen and settle your laptop on the counter. “Look, I’m so sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but you deserve to know, and I’ve bought this here as evidence. I don’t have to show you it but I thought bringing proof was the best way to handle it... Carol and Tommy are having an affair.”

The first instinct he has is to deny it. To question why you are telling him something that he knows isn’t true, but he doesn’t. There’ve been times where something doesn’t sit right with Dave. Carol’s ease of assuring him that Tommy will handle something while he’s out of town. “What evidence?” He demands, knowing the best thing is to hear you out. If it’s flimsy, he can start watching his wife’s actions. If it’s concrete proof, he will know.

“It’s a video,” you say as you open your laptop, “I’ve been suspicious for a while, and then I found underwear that definitely doesn’t belong to me. So I bought a nanny cam. Are you sure you want to see this?”

“Shit.” Dave hisses but he nods. “Show me.” He demands, hating how his stomach is curling at the thought. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about other women, but he hadn’t touched one.

You nod a few times before moving the laptop to face him, pressing play on a scene that makes you feel violently sick. “I’m so sorry, Dave. Never in a million years did I expect it to be with your wife… my friend.”

Dave’s brows pull together, jaw tightening in anger as he watches, listens to the scene in front of him. There’s zero doubt that is his wife, bouncing on another guy's dick. He doesn’t even realize his hands clenched in anger as he watches, furious at the betrayal.

Seeing the fury and the obvious hurt on his face, you decide to pause the video and close down the laptop. He doesn’t need to see anymore and neither do you. “As soon as he gets home today, I'm making him leave. He can go back to his mothers.”

Dave huffs, nearly glaring at you. “Show me the rest of it.” He demands.

You push the laptop over at him, and shake your head, “Fine, but I don’t want to see anymore.”

Nodding, he watches as you log back in and he pushes play. Glancing at you when you winch, hearing the moans and the breathless conversation as they fuck on what he assumes is your bed. “Fucking assholes.”

“She’s faking it,” you scoff, as the moans get more animated. “The man couldn’t give a woman an orgasm if his life depended on it.”

He snorts and it’s on the tip of his tongue to ask why the fuck you stayed with him then. “Don’t kick him out.” Dave decides seriously.

“What?” You say with a raised eyebrow, before both of your attention is immediately drawn back to them. Laying in their ‘post coital glow.’

“God, I swear she gets dumber every day,” your husband says with a laugh, “All I’ve got to do is pay her five minutes of attention and the stupid bitch thinks everything is fine. Doesn’t even realize that my lawyer has pretty much voided the prenuptial agreement. I’ll hand her the form to sign and just like the dutiful wife she is, she’ll be signing half her money over to me without as much of a second glance.”

“Dave makes good money, but he’s so fucking boring. He wants to ‘save for a rainy day’.” Carol hums. “But he doesn’t ever spend time with just me. He always wants the girls around. I’m tired of being a perfect mother. I honestly didn’t want Molly. But Dave had to try for his boy.” She snorts. “Too much of a pussy to give me a boy, I guess.”

Dave growls, pissed at the way she is talking about their daughter. He doesn’t give a shit about what she says about him. “She’s the fucking one who decided to take out her fucking birth control.”

“It’s been about a year,” you say to Dave, “Well, that’s when I started having suspicions. Always working late on a Thursday night, and unexplained charges on our joint account. I’ve let him walk over me for a year.” Tears start to well up in your eyes, and embarrassment floods through you. “I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t fucking cheat.” Dave scoffs. “Don’t be sorry.” He shakes his head, “don’t kick him out. Don’t show him that you know.” He advises, the gears in his mind already turning. “Get a lawyer, start moving your money around so he can’t take it.”

“Okay,” you say with a deep breath, “I have an account that he doesn’t have access to. Fuck. I’m so stupid. I knew he was cheating, I just let him gaslight me over and over.”

“You didn’t want to believe it.” Luckily you and the fucker don’t have kids, and he would just fucking kill them both, but the girls would miss their mother. He narrows his eyes at the screen. “Get a lock box, or safety deposit box for all your paperwork. will, social security cards, jewelry. Lock them up. Start removing him from shit. Access to the cell phone plan to make changes. Utilities, whatever you have jointly, unless it’s something he uses everyday.”

“I, uh, I should write this down,” you say, nodding your head, “Dave… Thursday nights… Was she here? There were nights where he came home the next morning after claiming he slept in the office.”

He shakes his head, huffing to himself. “She had ‘book club’.” He gives air quotes. “And since they supposedly always got so hammered, she would stay there.” He had thought it was stupid, but he had also felt like his wife deserved a night out, away from the kids.

“Fuck.” Shaking your head, “I’m going to go home. Start the things you’ve suggested. I’m really sorry again, Dave. I just felt you deserved to know.”

“Thank you for telling me.” His own situation is slightly more difficult, often the agency will put people on desk duty when finding out they are divorcing and he doesn’t want that. “Let me know if they make more videos. I’m going to install a camera here too.”

“Write down your email address and I'll send you that video. I guess we will have to work out a way to approach this together.”

Dave nods and reaches for the pad he keeps next to the home phone. Ripping off a sheet and writing his private email down, along with his phone number. “I’ll think of some way to make these fuckers sorry.” He promises, handing it to you. “I’m going to be finding out the toughest lawyer in the business. I’ll let you know their names.”

“Thank you, Dave,” you say as you feel your reserve slipping, the urge to cry coming back in full force. “Let’s make them pay.”

He nods, watching as you pick up your laptop. “Call me if you feel like you’re going to tell him you know.” He asks, knowing that he would tell Carol and then Dave would have to figure out a plan b.

“Will do.” The second you’re back inside, you start the tasks he gave you. Starting with gathering up all your important documents and putting them in a temporary safe space and then ordering a safe. You wonder how long Dave’s plan will take and hope it won’t be too long, the idea of sharing a bed with your husband makes your skin crawl.

****

Thursday’s have become sort of a check in day. You normally end up coming over and spending the evening with Dave and the girls. Sometimes having dinner and then staying once the girls had gone to bed. Tonight is another check in and Dave pours you a glass of wine. “How are you holding up?” He asks quietly.

“Better,” you admit with a smile, “Everything except the joint account is handled. Just ready to move on with my life and hopefully meet someone who actually cares about me. How about you?”

“Most everything was in my name anyway.” Dave admits with a small smirk. “She can’t touch the house since I bought it with my VA and I’m going for custody. I might have to pay her out, but whatever.”

“I guess him being infertile ended up working in my favor,” you say sadly, “I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone because he said that it was embarrassing, but I own the house. My Dad left me an inheritance and I was fortunate enough to buy it outright with it. I’m going to miss living here.”

“Why are you going to move?” Dave asks. “If you own the house and bought it with your inheritance, it’s yours.”

“I always imagined filling it with kids,” you say with a shrug, “I don’t want to be in a big house that’ll remind me just how alone I am.”

He frowns slightly, even as he voices his next thought. “You could always bring in another guy.” He reminds you. “Find love and fill it with kids.”

“I guess.” The sadness is evident in your voice, so you change the subject, “So are you any closer to coming up with a plan?”

Dave chuckles and glances up just as there is a loud thump upstairs. “After the girls are asleep.” He promises, knowing little ears don’t need to hear his plan.

“Sounds like you have something figured out,” you say before taking a sip of your wine.

“Do you want to humiliate them?” Dave asks with a small smirk. “And get revenge?”

“Yes,” you answer with a smile, “I want him to hurt the way he hurt me.”

“Then I’ll tell you about my plan in twenty minutes.” He promises and nods to your wine.

“So drink up, you’re gonna need it.”

Wordlessly you nod and take another large sip of your wine, desperate to hear his plan.

The two of you dance around the subject, talking about things in the news, events happening in town and Dave enjoys it. He’s come to enjoy talking to you and spending time in your company. Your husband is an idiot to throw over someone who is funny and nice, actually pays attention to the world around her - he doesn’t deserve you. When Dave’s self appointed time is up, he sets down his own wine glass and leans in close. “We should sleep together.” He announces.

“What?” You say with a giggle, convinced you’d misheard him. You had thought about it, fuck the last few times you’ve slept with your husband you’d found yourself imagining it was Dave, circling your clit with such intensity that you came harder than ever before. “I mean… Fuck, I want to. But wouldn’t that make us just as bad?”

“Not if we fuck in front of them.” Dave chuckles, smirking slightly because of your admission of want. “As a sort of goodbye gift to them.”

“Oh,” you say, thinking about the look of Tommy’s face as Dave fucks you. Tommy paraded you around like a trophy, having no issues embarrassing you by announcing to anyone and everyone that you lost your virginity to him and he’d be the only man to have been inside of you. Like you were his possession. “I like it. But I have one condition…. and you might find it a little weird.”

“What’s that?” Dave tilts his head and looks at you curiously. It’s not unusual to have conditions and he would be surprised if you didn’t.

“I want you to cum inside of me.” You say after taking a deep breath, “I’ll buy Plan B in preparation and you can watch me take it. But I need for him to see that it’s really over, and despite what he thinks… he doesn’t own me.”

Dave frowns and then he remembers the first Christmas party after you had moved into the neighborhood. Tommy had been shit housed and bragging about how his was the only ever cum you’ve had. He had marked you good and proper. Dave hums, his lips curling up wickedly. “Done.”

“Thank you.” It feels oddly liberating to think about. “I don’t think we should do it in the houses though… Maybe book a hotel. Request adjoining rooms and keep everything a surprise. Blindfolds and gags. Only reveal to them what’s happening after they’re strapped to some shitty hotel chair unable to move.”

He raises a brow and smirks at how quickly you came up with something that is so feasible. “Noise canceling headphones.” Dave adds, nodding. “So they can’t hear us opening the door and whatever, not until we are ready.”

“Perfect. I want them to suffer. And I know that’s awful to say out loud but the way they spoke about us… fuck.” You shake your head and laugh, “You know that he doesn’t pay for a single bill in our house. Works part time and the entirety of his paychecks go on his stupid hobbies… Golfing or gaming. I put money into our joint account each month and he just… Fuck. He gets nothing.”

“You have a prenup, and a clause for cheating.” Dave smirks and chuckles. “Carol’s gonna get something, but it won’t be enough for her liking.”

“I can’t wait to see the look on his face as you fuck me.” You say with a chuckle, before finishing up your wine. “What’s your favorite color?”

Dave grins and imagines you in his favorite color. “Green.” He hums. “Dark green.”

“Dark green it is,” you say with a wink. “When do you wanna do this?”

“I say we wait and do it when the lawyers finish the divorce papers.” Dave suggests. “We pack their shit that day and load it into a storage unit, change our locks and codes, fuck in front of them, drop the keys and the papers and shoot them the bird on the way out the door.”

“That sounds perfect. I know this sounds weird to say, but I'm kind of grateful he cheated. I would have spent forever living in his shadow and the past few weeks I’ve really started to realize that he doesn’t deserve me.” You say, with your first genuine smile in weeks. “Also I get to fuck my sexy neighbour in revenge.”

“You think I’m sexy?” Dave’s brows wing up and he’s flattered by the compliment. It’s been a long time since someone’s said that. The marriage had hit rocky patches before but never like this and he sees now that she’s been disengaging for a while.

“I have eyes, Dave,” you say with a giggle, “Every woman on this block stops and stares when you walk past. Those shoulders… Fuck. Those lips.”

“You’re so full of shit.” Dave huffs, rolling his eyes even if he secretly likes the compliment.

“Oh please,” you say, “Like you haven’t noticed the staring. Honestly, I’ve thought of you whilst using my wand,” you admit with a shrug, “After seeing you mowing the lawn shirtless.”

He smirks and leans back. “Might do that on purpose.” He admits with a shrug. “Tanning and all.”

“Well thank you for the show,” you giggle. “God, I can’t believe she cheated on you with him. I know he’s my husband but I had the excuse of him being my high school sweetheart. We’ve been together for years and he’s never made me cum once.”

“Bullshit.” Dave snorts and shakes his head. “Not even once? By accident?” He asks, nearly amazed by how fucking horrible that is.

“Never. He doesn’t do foreplay, and he’s never found that spot inside of me,” you shrug, “Usually I let him do his thing so I can roll over and sleep, occasionally I’ll rub my clit just to distract myself.”

“He doesn’t eat your pussy?” Dave’s eyes widen in shock and disgust. He understands that not all women cum from sex, he had a girlfriend before Carol who could not cum from penetration but he damn sure made her cum on his tongue.

“Nope. Never. He’s never even tried it, says the idea of it makes him ‘queasy’.” Looking over at him and seeing the look of surprise on his face makes you chuckle, “Guess I didn’t pick a good one.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, what a moron.” He shakes his head and his opinion of Tommy drops even lower than before and he didn’t think that was possible. “What a ….fuck, a pussy.”

“Nah. A pussy is useful,” you correct him, “I should get back. I’m super tired and he hasn’t texted saying it’s a ‘late one’ tonight so I figure they’ll be home soon. I will be counting down the seconds until the lawyers are done with the paperwork.”

“I would offer to show you what a real man does with his mouth, but I’ll wait to give him a ‘lesson’.” Dave hums, standing up and offering you a hand to get up off the couch.

“Oh, yeah? You going to eat my little pussy in front of him?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. You take his hand and let him help you up.

“Fuck yes.” Dave smirks. “If he finds it repulsive, I also wanna remind Carol what she’s missing. She fucking loved when I would go down on her.”

You hum happily, “I can’t wait to feel those lips on me.” Leaning forward you place a small kiss on his cheek, “Thank you for tonight. I really enjoy spending time with you and your gorgeous girls. I’ll be waiting impatiently for the paperwork to be completed. Goodnight, Dave.”

“Good night, sweetheart.” Dave walks you to the door and opens it for you. “As soon as it’s in, we’ll make sure they regret cheating on us.”

“Yes we will,” you agree with a smile, before walking back over to your house. Creeping upstairs and getting into the shower. Letting yourself get lost in imagining the feeling of Dave’s hands all over you, his mouth on your cunt and his cock buried inside of you. Your fingertips work your bundle of nerves as quickly as they can and you cum with a soft moan of his name. Climbing out of the shower you get dried, fix your hair and get into your pajamas. Wanting to be asleep or at least pretending to be when Tommy finally crawls in beside you.

****

“I got my papers.” Dave risks a call, knowing Carol isn’t checking the phone bill and calling you as soon as he steps out from his lawyers office. They don’t approve of his idea, but he also wasn’t told he couldn't do it. Just that he shouldn’t and he doesn’t agree with that.

“Me too,” you say gleefully down the phone. “You want to do it this weekend?”

“I’m thinking so.” Dave grins at the glee in your voice. “How do we want to lure them to the hotel?”

“I’m thinking we both book a room - request they’re adjoining, and once they’re both blindfolded, gagged and wearing headphones, we unlock the door and I'll lead Tommy into your room?”

“That works.” Dave agrees. “I’ll tell Carol I want to put some spice back in our marriage.”

“I’ll tell Tommy I have a surprise planned. I’ll go ahead and call and book the hotel.. and then I have some shopping to do… Dark green right?”

“Dark green.” He hums. “I’m going to enjoy ripping it off of you.” He admits, voice dropping.

“Keep playing with my pussy to the thought of it,” you whisper into your phone. “Only a few days to go.”

“I’ll book the rooms together but put one under your name.” Dave tells you, knowing that he will be able to convince them of it.

“Perfect. Is there anything you need me to do?”

“Start making noises to your husband about getting away. Doing something romantic this weekend. I’m going to ‘surprise’ Carol.”

“Perfect. Can’t wait to see the look on both of their faces. I’ll text you tonight, once I've told him about the surprise.”

The rest of the day goes by smoothly, you pop into Victoria’s secret and spot the perfect set and make your way home. Large glass of wine poured, you sip it generously as you listen to his footsteps approaching the door.

“Good day at work?” You call out from the kitchen with a roll of your eyes.

“Long,” Tommy groans before reaching over and helping himself to your wine, “Tomorrow is going to be longer.”

“Oh. I really hope they’re going to start paying you for those long Thursday nights. Sometimes you don’t even make it home. It’s not good for you sleeping on your office floor,” you say with the most sympathetic smile you can force. “Anyway, I have a plan for Saturday night that’ll make it all better. A surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” He says with a raised eyebrow and a curl of his lips, “What kind of surprise?”

“All will be revealed,” you say as you turn to him with a small kiss on his cheek, “A surprise that involved me spending a huge amount of money in Victoria’s secret for someone.” You leave him standing in the kitchen with a grin plastered on his face as you begin to climb the stairs with the rest of the wine and a new glass, “Dinner is ordered, i’m going for a bath.”

Dinner passes with its normal antics from the kids and Dave watches Carol. Nothing about her demeanor says that she’s cheating but he’s found the credit card she’s using to pay for it. It’s a secret one that she opened in his name. Not only is she renting hotel rooms, but she’s doing it on his fucking credit. It’s malicious irony that Dave booked the rooms at the same hotel that her and Tommy frequent.

Avoiding him for the rest of the evening, you have a long hot soak in the bath and only retreat back downstairs to grab your dinner and a drink. Spending the rest of the evening in bed watching netflix whilst he watches TV downstairs.

You decide to shoot Dave a quick text to let him know you’ve told Tommy about the surprise, and check you’re still on for to meet up and go over the plan the next evening.

‘Hey. Told him that I’ve booked a special surprise, and he ate it up. He’s told me he’s “working late” tomorrow, so I can pop around and we can go over things?’

Dave hums as his phone buzzes, Carol engrossed in her show so he slides his phone out and grins. His own reply comes quickly. ‘Sure. Now I wonder if Carol will be told about your plans this weekend? Ever wonder if he tells her that you two still have sex?’

You huff and type back. ‘We’ve had sex twice in the past two months, so I’m pretty sure if he’s saying anything, it’s about my lack of interest in the cheating bastard. Only fucked him so he would stop questioning why I was being distant. I doubt he’ll say anything though. The last video of them cheating he spent most of it, reassuring her that he doesn’t love me and never did. Do you think she’ll tell him about your ‘plans’?’

Dave snorts. ‘Haven’t told her. Plan on doing it at the last minute and making it seem like a romantic gesture.’

‘Good idea. I can’t wait till he is out of my house. Out of my life.’

‘Won’t be long. Just don’t kill him over the next few days.’ Dave chuckles to himself and when Carol looks up, he points to the tv. “They are so stupid it’s funny.” He explains, putting his phone away.

‘I’ll try.’ You reply before settling down for the night, wanting to be fasting asleep before Tommy gets upstairs.

****

The next day Tommy is ‘working late’ and Carol has a suspiciously timed meeting that runs over. Making Dave shake his head at how stupidly brazen they are getting. Still, he looks out the window and sees you walking over about an hour after he gets home with the kids.

You knock the door, dessert in hand as Alice whips open the door and immediately informs you that she and Molly are going to eat pizza in her room and watch a movie as you chat to Daddy.

Dave chuckles as you walk in. “The girls are getting spoiled.” He hums. “And so am I.”

“You have no idea,” you say with a wink, “I hear it’s pizza tonight? Sounds perfect.”

“Yeah, Carol had a “meeting”.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Strange, right?”

“Who’d have thought?” You giggle, “Well-,” you say as you pick up the glass of wine he’d poured for you, “Here’s to the last time they lie to us.”

“Are you ready for it?” He asks quietly, picking up his own glass. “For the big reveal?”

“I am counting down the seconds.” You say with a smile. “God, I hope they realize we aren’t to be fucked with.”

“I think they will figure that out when they don’t walk away with the pot of gold like they were expecting.” Dave snorts.

“I just can’t wait to see his face when he realizes that I'm not his trophy anymore.” The doorbell rings and Dave goes to get the pizza as you pour the girls out their juice, ready to take it upstairs to them for their movie night.

“Girls!” The two girls thunder downstairs to grab their cheese pizza and disappear just as quickly, each one fighting over who was going to sing the first song. Dave shakes his head and looks at you with a faux harried expression. “They are going to be trouble later on.” He predicts with a groan.

“I’m sure you can handle it, they worship their Daddy.” You say before topping up your glasses, “I’m going to miss this.”

“Why are you going to miss it?” Dave asks, frowning slightly.

“It’s been nice. Coming around and eating with you and the girls, the highlight of my week. They’re both absolutely adorable.”

“You can still come over anytime.” He offers. “If you aren’t out on dates, you know.” He shrugs and shoots you a smirk.

“Me? Dating? Unlikely. But I’d still love to come over. I mean it when I say it’s the highlight of my week.” You take a small sip and try to ignore the way he makes you feel, the past few weeks you had grown closer to Dave and started to really appreciate how good of a man he is.

“Shit.” Dave snorts. “You’ll be dating before the fucking ink is dry.” He predicts. “You’re beautiful, kind, funny and smart. And I bet you are killer in the sack. He’s an idiot.” He tells you, talking about your stupid soon-to-be-ex.

“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask quietly. “I can’t remember the last time someone complimented me. And the killer in the sack? Well I guess you don’t have long to find out.”

“I can’t wait to find out.” Dave admits quietly. “And you should be getting compliments all the time.”

“As should you. You’re remarkable. The best daddy ever, you work so hard and it’s appreciated, Dave.” You say before squeezing his hand, “And I’m excited to show you just how appreciated you are.”

“Is that what it’s going to be?” Dave asks, grinning slightly. “A show of appreciation?”

“If that’s what you want,” you tease, “Going to suck your cock. Just the thought of it makes me so wet.”

“Jesus.” His eyes widen, surprised you even said that out loud. He’s thought about it plenty, but apparently so have you. “Then we’ll have to do a sixty-nine. Because I’m gonna give your dumbass husband a lesson on how to make a woman squeal his name.”

“Fuck, that sounds perfect. But also to start I want to look into your eyes as I'm sucking your cock. Feel you fuck my mouth,” you whisper quietly.

“Have you ever done that before?” Dave asks, raising a brow and trying not to spring a boner at the thought of you letting him face fuck you.

“Nope,” you admit quietly. “Tommy had me blow him for a bit pretty much every time we had sex. But it was tame.”

“Bet he likes you to ‘look pretty’ while his dick is in your mouth.” Dave scoffs. “When your mascara should be running and the split is soaking your chin.”

“He just wants to get off. Fuck. I want that.”

Dave has been careful not to touch you. Not willing to put himself in the same level as Carol. He still won’t fuck you but he does reach out, talking ahold if your chin and rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Then we’re going to enjoy it. You’re going to enjoy it.”

You reach out and squeeze his hand again, before taking another sip of your wine and a bite of your pizza. This time in 48 hours it’ll be the beginning of the new end, and the start of something new and exciting.

****

The day of, Dave walks up to Carol at the kitchen sink and wraps his arms around her. Imagining choking her, he forced himself to kiss her neck. “I arranged for the girls to have a sleepover tonight.” He hums, pressing himself up against her and imagining fucking you so he gets hard. “Booked us a hotel room.”

“Oh?” Carol squeals with excitement, “Which one? What’s the plan?” Pushing herself against him a little harder. One thing about Carol York is that she’ll never say no to a surprise.

Dave names the hotel and pretends not to notice the split second of his wife freezing in his arms. He knows she panics and the moment she relaxes, making him hum. “Figured it’s been awhile since we had a night to ourselves.”

“That sounds lovely, darling,” she says, “But I don’t want you wasting your money on me. We can just have a quiet night in.”

“Travel points.” Dave lies easily, knowing that she doesn’t want to go back to the same hotel where she’s been visiting every week. “Already booked and waiting on us. Already checked in.”

“Sounds great,” she lies, hoping the weekend staff aren’t the same as the ones during the week.

****

“You excited for tonight, honey?” You ask Tommy, who’s wolfing down his breakfast.

“Can't wait to see what you spent a fortune on in Victoria’s Secret, I think I’m due a sneak preview, just to get me through the day.” He says with a wink.

“No previews. The someone I bought this for will absolutely love it. I assure you.” You say as you go upstairs to pack you ‘both’ an overnight bag.

Dave manages to talk Carol into packing a bag, hustling her out of the house and into the car without much fuss. The girls have already been deposited at their friends house and as soon as she and Dave leave, a team of professional movers will be coming and boxing up everything Dave discreetly tagged to move into the storage unit he had rented.

You stick to the plan and wait for the text from Dave telling you they’re about to check in before you leave. Not wanting any awkward run-ins at reception. “Hey honey, I forgot to fill up my car, mind if I drive yours?” You ask innocently. Knowing that Dave had arranged for the movers to come to yours after they’ve collected Carol's stuff, and taking his car meant he’d have no reason to come back to your house.

Huffing, Tommy rolls his eyes, desperately thinking if he had left any evidence of Carol being in the car. “You’re lucky I make sure that my car is filled up all the time.” He lectures. “You need to take care of those things.”

“I’m sorry, love,” you say with a fake pout, “Had a lot on my mind.” You take the car keys from him and load up the car, seconds after the go ahead text from Dave. He huffs again as he enters the passenger side and starts droning on about how ‘he needs to know’ where you’re both staying that night.

“You’ll know soon enough, baby,” you placate with a squeeze of his knee, “Heard great things about this place.”

The plan was for Dave to unlock the adjoining door on his side when Carol was in the bathroom but leave it shut so she wouldn’t know, and you were to do the same when you got into the room.

“You won’t tell me where we are going and you won't let me see the lingerie.” He grumbles. “I thought you were spoiling me.”

“Like I said you’ll see soon enough,” you smile, “We’re not too far from where we are staying.”

Tommy shifts uneasily as he watches his normal hotel come into view. “Here honey?” He makes it sound like that’s a horrible idea. “I’ve heard this place is a dump.”

“Oh no,” you say with a shake of your head, “It’s a five star hotel, honey, cost me a fortune but tonight will be worth it.” You say with a wink, come on, let’s get checked in. “Maybe we can order room service.”

Tommy plasters on a fake smile and chuckles. Praying that no one recognizes him. It would ruin his plan.

You notice how antsy he is as you check in and it makes you grin and shake your head. He cowers behind you at the check in desk and stares at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with anyone and practically running towards the elevator once you’ve got your keycard.

‘Here.’ You text Dave in the elevator, pretending to text your mom. “God this hotel is gorgeous, I can’t wait to see our room.”

“Maybe we can just stay in our room all night.” Tommy manages, reaching out and snagging your waist. “Lock the world away.”

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart,” you assure him, “The plans I have for tonight, don’t involve you going anywhere.”

He’s relieved, planning on hiding in the bathroom when you decide to order room service. He can’t let anyone let you know about his plans, he’s not ready yet. Still needing access to the deed for the house. He wants to add himself to it so he can take it from you. It’ll be nice rental income, moving in with Carol and renting out that house.

You open the door and take a look around the room, unlocking your side of the adjoining rooms as Tommy has a “first look” around the bathroom. You open your bag and start to take out a few bits, quietly calling him back in the room so Carol can’t hear you shouting his name. “Are you excited for tonight?”

“Depends on if you're going to suck my dick or not.” Tommy grins, thinking that he’s being romantic. The one bad thing about Carol is that she’s not willing to give him head if he doesn’t go down on her. Claiming that you might have understood, but she wasn’t a doormat. He missed someone sucking his dick.

“I promise that there will be some dick in this pretty little mouth tonight,” you tease, before picking up the blindfold and gag you had hidden in your purse, “Are you going to be a good boy and do as I say?”

Tommy’s brows shoot up. “What’s this?” He demands, grinning. “You never want to play.”

“Just thought we’d spice things up a little,” you reply softly, “I can feel you slipping away from me. I read some tips… you don’t want to?”

“No, no.” Tommy’s greedy. You might be boring in bed but you are also the only woman who has only had him. “I want to. I’m just surprised you want to. Sure you don’t want me to blindfold you?”

“Maybe later, but right now I want to do this my way.” Walking over, you untie his tie and motion for him to give you his hands, using the tie to restrain him. Before gagging, blindfolding and putting on his noise canceling headphones.

‘Ready when you are!’ You text Dave after sitting Tommy down on one of the two hotel chairs and lightly restraining him to it.

Lifting off one side of his headphones you whisper into his ears, “Good things come to those who wait.”

Dave hums, deciding that he would lift his own noise canceling headphones off Carol’s ear. She’s already tied up, but not in a chair. “Come on baby, I’m going to guide you.” He coos in her ear. “Trust me.”

You open the adjoining door after hearing Dave open his, and flash him a little smile as he guides Carol to the chair next to Tommys.

“You ready?” You ask him, as he steps back and places his hand on the small of your back.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Dave doesn’t fucking care about them, they made their bed. But if you don’t want to do this, he can pull the plug and just snatch the rug out from under them without ever laying a finger on you.

Rocking up on your tiptoes, you place a fleeting kiss to his lips before nodding. “I’m ready, ready to follow your lead.”

“Do you still want to suck my cock?” Dave asks, reaching up and cupping your cheek.

“Fuck, yes, i’ve been thinking about it all day.”

He hums and pats your cheek lightly, “then strip down. I want you naked on your knees so I can fuck you right away when we get done indulging.”

“You don’t wanna rip this off of me in front of them?” You ask as you unbutton your sundress and let it fall to the floor, revealing the dark green lacy lingerie set you had picked out just for Dave.

“Fuck.” He hisses, cock twitching at seeing his favorite color on your body. “Never mind. Keep it on. I’ll strip.”

“Yes sir,” you say with a giggle, excited to finally feel his hands on you.

Dave strips down quickly, watching Tommy and Carol start to shift restlessly in their chairs. Antsy. He smirks and arches a brow when he shucks his pants and reveals his hard cock. “Sure you want to do this?”

“Holy shit, it’s gorgeous,” you choke out at the sight of his cock, “Fuck yes. You ready to take their blindfolds off?”

“Blindfolds and headphones.” He hums. “Not the gags.”

“Let’s go.” You walk towards Tommy and Dave walks towards Carol. On his signal headphones are removed and then masks. The look on your now ex-husbands face is a sight to behold. Both of them stare at each other in utter bewilderment as you take a step back and take Dave’s hand. “Hello, honey, how are you liking your surprise? Must be nice to see the woman you’ve been fucking for the better part of a year here with us and her husband too.”

Dave chuckles and shakes his head as his face drops into a scowl at the two of them. They are completely frozen and panicked. "It's funny that you think we wouldn't find out." He tells them flatly before he turns to you. "Why don't we show them what it's like to watch your spouse fuck the neighbor?"

“I think we should,” you say with a giggle, as you perch yourself on the end of the bed. “Hurt them, how they hurt us.”

“Maybe they won’t give a shit.” The muffled protests coming from the two seems to disprove that, but Dave just leans in to press his lips to yours softly. It’s the first kiss he’s ever given you. When he pulls back he tells them that before smirking. “I want you on your knees, pretty girl.”

You ignore the sounds coming from that side of the room, and immediately get up and sink down to your knees. Looking up at Dave with your sweetest smile before gently holding on to the base of him, and placing a light kiss on the tip of his cock. The tip bright red and begging for release, you lick the bead of precum that’s gathered at the top and slowly wrap your lips around him. Not used to having something so big in your mouth, you moan at the stretch, taking him in just a few inches and swirling your tongue around him.

“Fuck.” Dave hisses, looking down at you and cupping your cheek. “Take more of it. I know you can. But don’t choke. I’m going to fuck that pretty throat of yours.”

You do as he instructs as take him further into your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. Slowly bobbing up and down before taking him further, loving the firm grip he has on your face. You can feel yourself getting wetter the deeper you take him, the sounds he makes spurring you on and making you crave more.

“Unlike you two, this is the first time for us.” Dave groans, sliding his hand around to cup the back of your head. “So you get to enjoy the first time I fuck your wife since you’ve been fucking mine.”

You hollow your cheeks and suck as hard as you can as your nose just brushes against the patch of hair at the base. Drowning out the groans of annoyance from Tommy and Carol by moaning happily around him. Tears stream from your eyes as he keeps your head from moving, keeping you still as he feeds you the last inch or so of his cock.

Once Dave feels the back of your throat constrict around him, he pulls his hips back. “Fuck, I’m gonna enjoy this.” He groans, holding your head tights as he snaps his hips forward roughly and buries his cock in your mouth again.

You almost squeal as he fucks into your mouth, groaning in pleasure as you suck around him. Praising you for taking him so well, and telling you how pretty you look with his cock in your needy little mouth.

Both Tommy and Carol are struggling against the ties that bind them in the chairs. Shouting against the gags, but Dave doesn’t even pay them any attention. Focusing on you. “That pretty little pussy is wet, isn’t it?” He huffs. “Can’t wait to taste it. To lick you until you squeal my name.”

Looking up at him through your tear stained eyelashes you nod dutifully, a smile stretching across your already stretched out mouth. Before you resume your focus on his cock, bobbing your head to meet the snap of his hips, chasing more of those groans he floods the room with.

“You should have licked her cunt, Tommy.” Dave growls mockingly. “Now I’m going to and she’s going to realize what she’s been missing being with a piece of shit like you.” He smirks, looking over at his wife as she cries. “Can’t believe you put up with that shit. Especially since you know how good my tongue is.”

You pull off him and stroke his length, you’ve drenched the lacy material from sucking his cock alone and feel yourself flood the fabric further as he talks about eating you out. “Dave,” you say with a breathy moan, as you lick the weeping tip of him, “I need you.”

Smirking, he grabs your hand and helps you up, sliding his hand down between your legs possessively. “Fuck, you’re soaked baby girl.” He growls. “Want to see how much wetter I can get you. Gotta undress you first.” The panties are ripped off, pulling a moan out of you and he chuckles when the expensive green top also rips apart in his hands. The chairs are positioned so that the bed is on full display and he pulls you down onto it with him.

“I wanna show him,” you mumble, “I wanna show him how fucking wet I get when I actually want to suck a cock, I want him to see how you could slide right in with no fucking lube.”

“Shit.” Dave slaps your ass and smirks at the two spouses. “Never really thought about fucking her until we found out you two were cheating.” He admits. “So thank you.”

“Can’t say I didn’t think about Dave,” you admit with a shrug as you shuffle towards Tommy, opening your legs and letting him see your glistening cunt.

"I thought about it." He amends, "but I never considered doing it until now. Because I was fucking married."

“Same,” you shrug, “Shame that the people we married didn’t feel the same.” You shift back up and take his face in your hands, “I want you to do whatever you need to me, baby.”

"Fuck, I want you to sit on my face." Dave coos, reaching down to slide a finger through your folds and grins when you shiver. "Show you how a real man eats pussy."

“Yes sir,” you whisper before kissing him, watching as he lays down on his back and as he motions for you to move up. You lower yourself down slowly, hovering a few inches from his face.

“Fuck.” Dave groans, his cock twitching at the sight and he tilts his head back to look at Tommy. “Don’t know how you didn’t dive into this cunt every chance you got.” He huffs before he grabs your hips and pulls you down onto his tongue.

“Dave,” you yelp, as he slowly drags his tongue through your folds. Teasing your clit over and over. One of the hands finds purpose in his hair, tangling in his slightly overgrown style as the other grips onto the headboard. Your hips start to rock of their own accord, chasing your high, as a brand new sensation overwhelms you.

He flicks and curls his tongue, showing off for the cheating bastards who are still squirming and huffing through their gags, but also for you. Wanting to make the first time you’ve ever been eaten out memorable for more reasons than just showing up your cheating ex.

You can’t stop panting his name, moaning it over and over as you soak his face. It doesn’t take long until you’re hanging over the edge, seconds from cumming because of another person for the first time in your life. “So close, baby, so close.” You choke out through ragged breaths.

Dave groans, squeezing your hips and encouraging you to cum for him. Eager to taste it and to show your bastard husband that you deserved it.

With a few more flicks of his tongue against your clit, you’re cumming hard, flooding his face with your arousal as he pulls you apart in the most incredible way.

Dave groans and keeps you pressed against him, wanting to have you soak up every bit of your pleasure until you are sobbing his name out loud.

It doesn’t take long until you’re meeting his silent demand, and the yells shimmer down to you whimpering his name. You want to taunt your husband, tell him that’s what it looks like when you cum, but you don’t. You focus on Dave, moving yourself down him slowly and straddling his waist, before leaning back down and whispering the softest ‘thank you’ into his ear.

Smirking slightly, Dave nods. He’s not thinking about Tommy or Carol right now, he’s tuned them out. But he is thinking about you and how fucking wet you are, grinding down on his cock. “Can I fuck you?” He asks, even though you are on top of him.

“Please,” you plead, with a smile. “How do you want me?”

“Do you want to ride me to start out with?” He asks, caressing your hip.

“Can we build up to that?” You say quietly, “You’re huge. It’s going to be a stretch, I’m not used to anything like this.”

“That’s good,” Dave nods, knowing he doesn’t want to hurt you. “Lay down on your side, facing your loving husband.” He smirks, imagining the look on the bastard's face when he slides into you.

“Okay,” you nod, biting back the endearment hanging off the tip of your tongue. You do as he says, looking at your furious husband, feeling a shiver run through. Fearing what he might do once he’s unrestrained.

Dave curls around you, hand sliding up to cup your breast and then down to your thigh. “Don’t worry. He’s not going to touch you.” He promises, whispering in your ear. “I won’t let him lay a finger on you.”

Within seconds of feeling his touch, the fear is replaced with excitement and lust and the need to feel him slip into you. “Fuck me, Dave,” you plead, letting your eyes flicker up to your husband one more time, before letting yourself forget he’s in the room.

He chuckles quietly and lifts your thigh, bringing it back over his hip and opening you up to their view. “I’m going to fuck you. Been thinkin’ about fucking you for weeks. Imagining how tight and hot you’d be.” He kisses along your jaw as he slides closer and shifts to take his cock in his hand.

You let him mold you into the position he wants you, loving the way his hands feel on you. “God, me too. Fuck. Played with my pussy every night dreaming about this.”

The head teases your slit, sliding around and he hums. “Good.” He glances at his crying wife and your angry husband and smirks. “Let me know how it feels, baby.” He orders as he starts to push inside you.

You whimper as he starts to inch into you, the stretch of him feeling delicious. “Feels so good, baby,” you choke out, before placing your hand on top of his and squeezing. “So fucking big.”

“That’s it.” Dave growls, slowly rocking his hips and sinking deeper. “You’re taking it so good, baby. Squeezing my dick like a vice.”

“Fuck,” you moan, as he hits something new inside of you. Something that makes you clamp down hard around him and chant his name like sacred prayer, over and over.

He doesn’t start fucking you like it’s his last day on earth. Not yet anyway. He takes his time. Measured thrusts meant to make you cry out and yet he’s not giving it his all. Changing the pace and force often to keep things stimulated for you and remind Carol what she’s given up.

It’s nothing you’ve ever experienced before, someone chasing their high whilst chasing yours just as hard. With every moan, and flutter he praises you for taking him so well, for soaking his cock and squeezing him so perfectly.

His hands start to wander. Knowing that women love to be worshiped while they are having sex, his hands squeeze and grope adoringly. Forgetting about your audience, he concentrates on the breathless moans and whimpers that come from your throat. Seemingly made more desperate everytime he praises you.

“I think I’m go—,” is all you’re able to get out, before you clamp down around him hard and cum on his cock. Focusing on his sweet praises as you convulse in pleasure, feeling your sheets dampen beneath you as he keeps the same delicious pace throughout your high.

"That's it, fuck that's it, baby girl." Dave moans as he feels you cum all over him. "Soak my cock. Show me how fucking wet your little pussy gets when you cum." He huffs. "You needed this, didn't you? It's been so fucking long since you've really cum, hasn't it?"

“Needed it so bad,” you pant, as you come back down. “Never cum like that before. You want me to ride you now, baby?” You ask, as you pull his hand up to your mouth and gently kiss it.

"Yes." Dave pulls out of you and rolls onto his back, eager to feel you on top of him again. "Ride me, baby girl."

“I love it when you call me baby,” you say, as you straddle his hips and sink down onto him. Taking him inch by inch, until you’re filled with him. Slowly you start to rock your hips, building up to a pace that has him groaning your name. The sound of muffled cries and shouting drowned out both of your pleasure. His thumb finds his clit and he rubs gentle circles into it as you ride him, wanting to feel his cock throb against your tights walls that are fluttering around him.

You don’t bounce on his cock, or slam yourself back. It’s a slow grind that he finds himself grunting every time you circle your hips. He just keeps his eyes on you. Enjoying the way your own close and your head tilts back as you moan.

With every rock of your hips, he notches against paradise. Soft moans slip from your slips, as you chase your high again. Wanting to cum one more time before he does. Needing to feel him as much as you can, for as long as you possibly can.

One hand on your hip, another on your clit, he urges you to cum. “Come on baby, I know you can cum around my cock, again.” He groans, thrusting up into you shallowly. “Want to see it, beautiful.”

You rock your hips a little faster, chasing more friction from this hand on your clit and with a one word command for you to ‘cum’, you’re clamping down around him once more. Pleasure coursing throughout your body as he keeps you from falling forward, and continues to fuck up into you. Praising you for taking him for so well and fitting around him like a glove.

Once you have collapsed into his chest, Dave rolls you over and pushes your legs wider. Grunting as he takes over and his next thrust is hard enough to have you yelling.

“Fuck,” you scream, as he begins a breath stealing pace. “F-fill me up,” you beg, as he pounds in and out of you.

There’s renewed struggling and muffled screaming. Tommy most likely when he hears the plea for Dave to fill you up, but he doesn’t give a shit. Focusing on you and his own mounting pleasure as he fucks you hard and fast.

The sounds that are coming from you are unrecognizable. Brand new. Noises of pure unfiltered pleasure drowning out everything else. “Please,” you choke out, the word pained as another orgasm threatens to devastate your exhausted body. “Please, Dave.”

“Gonna- gonna cum.” He growls, clenching his jaw to push another few thrusts out of his body that screams for release. He knows you’re close again. He can feel it. Needs to see you do it again for his own selfish pride.

With little to no warning, he pulls you back over that edge with him. His thrusts sloppy as you clamp down hard around him, practically screaming his name as you milk him dry of his cum. He grits out a little praise in your ear, before groaning your name and wrapping his arms around you as you sink deeper into the mattress.

Dave groans at the first piercing sound of his name, giving in and pushing deep as he starts to cum. Tightening his hold on you as he groans your name. Rolling his hips as he fills you.

“You feel so good,” you whimper as he paints your walls. You don’t want it to end, you want him to stay buried inside your desperate cunt forever. You can’t pretend that the past few weeks you haven’t been falling for him, and now being wrapped in his arms, you’re well and truly screwed. Literally.

“So good, baby. Fuck, that’s a tight little cunt.” He coos. “Never would have gone anywhere else if I had you in my bed.” It’s a shot at your husband, but it’s also true. He pulls back and presses his lips to yours before looking back at the cheaters still tied to their chairs. “We’re divorcing you both.” He announces.

“And you’ve already signed the papers,” you say with a smile, before immediately looking back at Dave. “Tommy gave me the idea. You were going to hand me an amended version of the prenup right? And this “dumb dutiful wife” was going to sign it without even glancing it over.”

Dave smirks when he sees Tommy’s eyes widen and his face drops. Discovering that his plot has been discovered. “Oops.” He hums sarcastically.

You giggle, before gently turning Dave’s face back towards yours and kissing him as hard as you can, a kiss that speaks a thousand words without saying any. “Thank you,” you murmur against his lips, knowing it’s time to face the music.

“Of course.” Dave sees the uncertainty and anxiety cross your face. He can tell you are scared of what might happen now that this is done. Pulling out if you gently, he sits up and looks towards the cheaters. “All your shit had been moved out of our houses to a storage unit. We’ll leave the keys, but you, especially you, Tommy-“ he growls, pointing his finger at the man. “Are not to come back tonight. Carol, you can come by and see the girls tomorrow. But you two enjoy the rooms.” He stands. “After we are dressed, I’ll untie you, Carol and you can untie Tommy after we’ve left.”

“You have no reason to come back to my house,” you say to Tommy, with a new found courage. “That’s why we drove your car. Don’t come back. I’ll see you in court with the video evidence of your cheating and your plans to fraudulently amend our prenuptial agreement.”

Dave ignores them as the two of you clean up and redress. Not even sparing them a glance. It feels freeing, setting out the papers and dropping the keys into a table before he smirks at you.

“Still ok to get a ride home?” You ask quietly, before he goes to untie Carol.

“Of course it’s okay, baby.” Dave stops and nods, giving you an encouraging smile before he moves back towards Carol.

You collect both yours and Dave’s things as he unties Carol, staying back just in case she decides to lunge at you. “Enjoy sleeping here tonight,” you say to Tommy, “This room will be the last thing I ever spend my money on you on. Sorry about the soaked sheets.” You add with a smirk.

Dave pulls off the gag and Carol sucks in a lungful of air. “Dave- Dave please, it’s not- I’m so sorry.” She sobs, leaping up out of the chair. “It was- God, I shouldn’t have done this.”

You see her leap towards Dave, and take another step back. “But you did,” you say quietly, “Both of you did this! For almost a year and the shit you said about us both, was worse than the fact you were fucking. You don’t deserve him and Tommy doesn’t deserve me.”

“I’m sorry Dave, I’m so sorry.” She reaches for him but he pulls back.

“Don’t.” He warns her. “The day I found out you were fucking him was the day I was done with you.”

“Same with you,” you say to Tommy. “I mean it when I say that you’re not welcome in my home again.” Turning to face Dave, you reach your hand out for him to take, “You ready?”

“I’m ready,” he assures you, taking your hand and looking back at the other two people with a look of utter disdain for them plastered on his face. “I hope you two are happy together.”

You lead him out of the room. Hand tightly gripping his as you make your way to the elevators, and pressing the button. Wordlessly you turn to face him and rock up on your tiptoes and press your lips to his.

He’s surprised by the kiss but he doesn’t push you away. Instead, he’s wrapping his arms around you and leaning into it. Enjoying the fact that you aren’t crying like he had expected.

“I’m going to feel you for days,” you say against his lips, before pulling him for another kiss. Stepping into the thankfully empty elevator still attached to him, wanting to extend the moment for as long as you can.

“Do you-“ he pulls away and frowns. “The girls are at a sleepover and I told Kayla’s mom that Carol isn’t to pick them up. Do you want me to crash on your sofa? Make sure Tommy doesn’t decide to show up tonight?”

“Honestly, I was hoping you’d sleep in my bed,” you admit quietly, “But you don’t have to… if you’d prefer to crash on the sofa, you can.”

“I wasn’t going to assume anything.” Dave chuckles quietly, reaching up and rubbing your back. “If you want me to be in your bed, I’ll sleep there.”

“I want you in my bed,” you say with a smile, “How are you feeling?”

“Indifferent.” He admits. “I’m angry for the girls, but I’m completely over Carol. Just cut the infection out and move on.” Maybe not the healthiest way to deal with things, but he managed. “How are you feeling?”

“Kids are super resilient and we both know that they love their Daddy, they’ll be okay.” You say with a squeeze of his hand, “I’m really good, great actually.”

“A good fucking will do that.” He teases, smirking at you slightly. “What are your plans for tomorrow night?” He asks suddenly.

“Yeah, I-uh-I could get used to that,” you mumble, “I’m free. How about you?”

“Well, considering I’m free and you’re free…” Dave shrugs slightly. “Thought I might take you out on a date. If you wanted. If not, I get it.”

“Sounds perfect,” you say with the biggest smile you’ve managed for weeks, “Do I get to wear something pretty?”

“Where whatever you want. Figured we’d go somewhere fancy to celebrate being free of them and decide what we want to do.” Dave hums.

“I like that, nice and breezy.” You say as he slips an arm around you as you make your way towards his car.

“To new beginnings, baby.” Dave jostles you slightly with a grin. “It’ll be ironic if we get together and are happy while they are miserable and don’t last a year.” He pulls his arm from around you and opens the door on the passenger side for you. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

“We will. Now that you and that incredible cock have completely ruined other men for me, I'm excited to see where it goes.” You giggle before thanking him for opening the door, “Thank you. To new beginnings.” You say as you smash your lips up against his.

Dave grins. Yes, your ex and his might have hurt you, but you are going to end up winning. He’ll make sure of it.

****

[A year later]

Life comes at you quickly. Your first date with Dave quickly became a 3rd, 4th and so on. The girls adapted quickly with their new changes and before you knew it, you were practically living with them.

He asked you to put your house up for sale and move in with him two months after your first date and a year on, life is perfect.

The sight of Dave napping comfortably on the sofa with your newborn son sleeping on his chest fills your heart. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so much more.

It turns out that your ex-husband having an affair would be the best thing that ever happened to you.

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x f!reader #dave york smut #dave york fanfiction #dave york imagine #dave york fic #dave york equalizer 2

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seeingivy · 6 months

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high infidelity

satoru gojo x f!reader

do you really wanna know where I was april 29th?

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: infidelity (omg who knew), yn is a doctor, satoru gets injured and haha ur still my emergency contact's his way back into your life, megumi and yuuji flirting side quest, a big hot flaming mess of writing this is actually so bad

an: no one say anything to me about this fic actually. or the fact that I made everyone do a poll about which taylor as gojo to write just to not write either of those options and produce a flaming, hot wreck of garbage. anyways, live love high infidelity this song will always be special to me because on april 29th, I was indeed, at the eras tour seeing mother for the first time

You swallow hard as the waitress walks up again, with that sheepish, awkward smile on her face. And you dread the unrelenting, embarrassing question that’s going to follow. One that she’s already asked, three times.

“Are you still waiting for someone or would you like to order?”

And you’re not sure why, but the fact that she asks the question, in that phrasing, in that tone, is enough to aggravate the very thin patience you already have. Because really, it’s quite possibly the stupidest question she could have asked.

Clearly, you are still waiting for someone. You’ve been sitting here for the past hour and a half. If you were really intent on eating at this restaurant alone, then you would have ordered the second they seated you.

And it’s rude, abrasive even. To ask, to relentlessly question, three times. Because obviously, you feel horrible for taking the table, when there’s a line of people patiently waiting by the door. And it’s not your fault that your boyfriend is late. And really, it’s just humiliating, that she keeps throwing it in your face, that you’re sitting here, alone when he should be here making you feel special.

You sigh, giving her a halfhearted smile.

“Can I have twenty more minutes? I promise I’ll leave after that and let you give the table to someone else.”

She smiles, genuine and sweet, as she places her hand on your shoulder and makes a promise to bring some more bread before you leave.

The premise of it - the fact that she smiled in earnest and must know that you feel horrible, that she has her own deposit of pity for you - has you bringing your fingers up to your forehead and massaging that small, pulsating feeling by your temples. Because here you were, mentally cussing out the poor girl working minimum wage at the restaurant when the real subject of your wrath couldn’t even be bothered to show up.

And you hate that the negativity, the frustrations of the situation, seem to bleed into everything else. Because you’ll find yourself being upset with Yuri, but then suddenly it turns into a blind agitation to everything. The barista, for not making your coffee right, your co-workers asking to switch shifts so they can go on a trip with their partners, the laundry machine when it stops working.

Your phone starts incessantly buzzing on the table, the smallest glimmer of hope sparking in your chest at the sound. And instantly dies, when you realize it’s just the Emergency Room calling you.

You slide open the call, pressing the phone to your ear.

“This is Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital. Is this a miss Y/N L- wait.” Megumi states into the phone, mumbling off the speaker.

You press the phone harder to your ear, to try to catch the end of the conversation that Yuuji must be having with Megumi.

“Y/N. Right, hi!” he states, voice halfheartedly cheery, which is already odd enough for him.

“Hi Megumi. Why are you calling me on my day off?” you deadpan, that backlogged deposit of irritation coming in hot and fresh for the sweetest resident you have.

“Right. Um, we have a mister Satoru Gojo in the Emergency Room who has you listed as his Emergency Contact. He’s kind of in bad shape so we were going to call regarding-”

“Gojo? I’ll be there in ten.” you respond, shoving the phone into your purse and leaving the tip flat on the tablecloth. You give the waitress - standing there with that restocked bread in her hand - a polite wave on the way out and speed as fast as you can to the hospital.

You march into the ER, rubbing warmth into your biceps, to find Megumi at the nurses station, as always, flirting with the pink haired student nurse he’s taken a keen liking to.

“Hey. Where is he?” you ask, Yuuji and Megumi turning their heads to give you half hearted smiles. It’s only the start of the night shift, but by the way their shoulders are already sagging, you can tell whoever has to deal with them has a long night ahead of them.

“Right sooooo. We can’t decipher any of his paperwork. We need you to read it first and then you can see him. He’s in room eleven.” Yuuji states, giving a peachy smile, as you scan over Gojo’s characteristic illegible handwriting.

“Jesus. He still writes like a twelve year old.” you murmur, filling out the sheet at the side with all the information Yuuji needed.

“You’re all dressed up, teach. What’s the occasion?” Megumi asks, lazily leaning his cheek in the palm of his hand.

“Ah. It’s my one year anniversary with Yuri. We were supposed to go to dinner.” you mumble, scratching the last of the information on the sheet and handing it to Yuuji.

You feel a hand sling around your shoulder and a distinct smell of smoke, only to find Shoko hanging off your frame.

“And yet here you are, because he didn’t show up.” she murmurs, earning you a set of wide eyes as you glare at Shoko. Because at their core, Yuuji and Megumi are first, definitely crushing on each other, and second, nosy as hell.

“And here you are. Destroying every last cell in your lungs, that are eagerly, earnestly begging you to stop.” you deadpan.

She flicks your nose as you finish filling out the sheet and reading through the paramedics report that was attached to his paperwork.

“Please tell me you attacked Yuri at the dinner table and that’s why you’re here. Fork to the hand? Spoon in the eye? Knife to the dick?” Shoko asks, excitedly.

“Didn’t you like take an oath? For the preservation of human life?” Megumi deadpans.

“No. I skipped that day of medical school.” Shoko replies.

“Gojo’s here, I’m still his emergency contact.” you respond back, giving her a pointed glare.

“What happened?”

You turn your head expectantly to Megumi, who obliges.

“His car got t-boned. He’s pretty roughed up.” Megumi responds.

You give Shoko a weary look, as you march to the other side of the unit, preparing yourself for whatever roughed up version of Gojo you were about to be greeted with. Because every interaction with Gojo was a rush of emotions - good, bad, sweet, and ugly - but this might be the biggest thing you’ve ever had to stomach yet.

“So. Who is this Satoru guy? I’ve never heard of him before.” Megumi asks Shoko, giving Yuuji an all knowing glance.

“Her ex-boyfriend.” Shoko responds.

“No way. Before that asshat Yuri?” Yuuji asks, suddenly too invested in the story all together.

“Well, obviously. He taught as a professor at the same medical school she attended.”

“Y/N dated a professor?” Megumi asks, tone incredulous.

“I mean that’s one way to get through I guess.” Yuuji adds.

Shoko smacks the top of Yuuji’s head, earning a fit of laughter from the two of them for his stupid comment.

“You need to focus on your nursing exams instead of flirting with Megumi on your fifteen. It would do you some good to flirt with your preceptor. And no, he was just a fellow doing research at the time. They were best friends for a good few years, had that whole will they won’t they vibe going on.” Shoko responds.

“So….did they?” Megumi asks.

“They did. To be honest, I can’t really remember why they broke up. Something stupid.” Shoko shrugs, giving the two of them shoves on the shoulder before walking past the hall, to find you standing in front of the door. Your hand is resting against the handle, but you have yet to yank down and push yourself in.

“Are you warming up the handle or…?”

You’re thrown out of your train of thought to find Shoko at your side, hands buried deep in her white coat as she gives you a weary glance. To anyone else, Shoko would seem wildly disinterested, almost annoyed at how you were acting. But you know better and can see that small twinge of concern buried under her long eyelashes, the hint of it in her voice.

“Oh. Um…no. Just got lost in thought.” you murmur, staring at the faded eleven on the marker.

“About?”

You swallow hard, the warm tears filling your eyes.

“I haven’t talked to him in so long. And the last time we talked we were arguing over…..leaving dishes in the sink. Breaking up. If I walk in there and he’s dead, that’s going to be the last thing I ever said to him.” you whisper, air grating against your throat.

Shoko puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes once..

“He’s not dead. The monitor tech would have picked up on that.”

“The monitor tech? Are we talking about the same monitor tech? Because Nobara is too busy flirting with the phlebotomist Maki to ever do her job. They’re worse than Megumi and Yuuji.”

Shoko scoffs, before rolling her eyes at you.

“No one is worse than Megumi and Yuuji. Yuuji knocked the entire crash cart over when he clocked in because Megumi complimented his Star Wars themed scrubs.”

You snort, shaking your head, as you take a deep breath in and push the handle down. Shoko gives you a warm smile as you walk in and flick the lights on, only to see Satoru, sitting up in bed and lazily scrolling through the TV channels.

He looks over at you first, his eyes going wide, as you walk up to him and cup the side of his cheek. The tears that were welling in your eyes are falling in full flesh, at the sight of him all battered and bruised.

His snow white hair is matted red, an angry, glaring scratch on his forehead. His arm is littered with tiny cuts, with a good amount of dressing on his torso, the red blood already seeping through and the look on his face so broken and tired that it makes your heart twinge.

“Satoru.”

He smiles, albeit a little confused, as he looks up at you and brings his hand up to yours, where it’s resting against your face.

“Hey princess.”

You laugh through your sprout of tears, which has the smallest smile turning up on his cut up lips and the soft, faint smile lines appearing near his eyes.

“You here to patch me up, doc?” he whispers.

You shake your head incessantly, which has him rolling his eyes.

“Not today.”

“Shame. I heard having sex is really good for patient recovery.”

You smack his shoulder, biting hard down on your cheeks that Satoru Gojo, in full flesh, is okay. Because he still has the audacity to flirt with you, even when he’s near death in the hospital.

“I’m going to look at your chart, okay?”

You let go of his face and find yourself in front of the computer, logging in with your credentials, and trying to pull up his chart as fast as you can.

“If I found out you got into this accident because you were trying to find the perfect song before you got home, I’m going to put your head on a stick, Satoru Gojo” you murmur, earning a laugh from him.

“First and foremost, you always have to close the drive home on a banger. Sue me.”

“I think I might just.”

“And contrary to your beliefs, this accident actually wasn’t my fault. They crashed into me, naturally, because I do no wrong. Ever.” he states.

“Right.” you chuckle.

You read over the report, making it a point to berate Yuuji for his shitty charting later, as you look through his vital signs and blood cultures that were taken when he arrived here.

“So do all doctors dress like they’re about to go clubbing or is it just you?”

You look down, only now noticing that you’re still wearing the a-line dress from the dinner you were supposed to have with Yuri. You make a mental note to shoot him a text after checking with Satoru after, knowing all too well that with how busy Yuri is, you standing him up would throw him over the edge.

“Just me. I really love to put on a show for my patients, Gojo. And what clubs are you going to where people dress like this?” you mutter, clicking through the scans that were taking.

“I appreciate the lengths you go to for me. It’s always what I loved about you. And I exclusively attend Taylor Swift night at the Underground” he states, placing his hands on his chest.

You look over and glare at him, before reading through the treatment plan. When you look over Nanami’s notes, you feel your heart drop and turn over to look at him. At his bright, blue eyes so wide and unaware, the look on his face so…innocent it bothers you. That in a few hours, he’s going to be in unspeakable pain while he recovers.

The door opens and Nanami and Yuuta are standing at the door, Nanami already scoffing at you.

“That’s confidential patient information, Dr. L/N.” Nanami states, voice stern. He hands you a jacket, which you pull on, as you hike your hands under your biceps and talk to him.

“You were going to tell me all of it anyways. So…what’s the plan here?” you grumble, settling next to Gojo at the side of his bed, placing your hands in his nearly pink hair.

“Well. I’m going to-”

“The surgical resident has to be Yuuta, I don’t trust that dumbass Todo to do it. You have to use prolene stitches, I don’t want his skin to scar and don’t leave him under for too long. He’s never been one to suit medications well. Don’t play any rap music when you’re operating, he hates that type of stuff and-”

Nanami puts his hands square on your shoulders, squeezing once.

“Thank you, Dr. L/N. We’ll talk all details after, okay?” Nanami states, voice soft, as you turn over to look at Gojo.

Gojo gives you a weak smile, which you return, before pushing his hair off of his forehead, and lightly brushing through the white tresses as he looks at them.

“Give it to me straight, Kento Bento.” Satoru states, earning an eye roll from Nanami who's clearly unamused. But you can tell he doesn’t mind it all too much, because in the monotony of shitty patients, he’s always been one to appreciate the sweet jokesters. And Satoru’s the biggest clown there is.

“It’s a relatively easy procedure, Satoru. We’re just going to go in and repair the damage that you sustained to your digestive tract from the crash. Do you have any questions for me?” Nanami asks.

“Can I request that she’s not in there when it happens?” Satoru asks, looking up at you.

“Hey. I can-”

“Yes. We’ll make sure of it.” Yuuta responds.

“Thank you, Yuuta.” Gojo responds, giving him a smile.

“We’ll be around in an hour to take you to surgery.” Nanami states, ignoring the pointed glare you were giving him as he strolls out of the room.

You turn to Gojo, the overstimulation of the past ten minutes really hitting you, as you feel your brain short circuit while he’s looking at you. You try to focus on the sensation of his hair in your hand and that pulsating beat that you’ve been feeling for his wrist, but you can’t really process any of it.

Every high and low you’ve experienced in the past few minutes - the elation in Gojo’s voice, the pain from seeing him suffering, how he’s still the same as you left him- it’s enough to abandon any rational thought processes from occurring in your head. And it leaves you standing there, silently, with your hands on him.

“Hi Y/N.”

“Hi ‘Toru.”

He smiles at the nickname, reaching forward to lace his fingers through yours.

“I was driving and then…I wasn’t. I looked up and all I could see was the stoplight above me, then the flashing lights of the ambulance, and now…you….looking at me like that. Your brain isn’t the only one hurting right now.”

“Looking at you ike what?” you murmur.

“Like you’re in pain, Y/N.” he states, emphasizing his syllables.

You shake your head, fighting down that wave of worry that’s sitting in your skin.

“You know, Kento’s a really good doctor. And Yuuta…he’s like the most promising surgical resident. And even then, I-I can get another senior surgeon if you don’t want a student. And-and it really won’t hurt that bad and I’ll make sure they give you all the good meds and-”

“Y/N.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m rambling. I know you’ve always hated that and I just-”

“I don’t hate it. Just, slow down for a second…talk me through all this because I really don’t know what’s going on and you know I don’t like not knowing.”

You pull up the chair, messing with his hands as you talk.

“You have to get surgery. The impact you had when you crashed led to-”

“Y/N. I know all of that already. I’m asking about you.”

You frown, swallowing hard, as you run your fingers along the scratch on his knuckles.

“You never update your current information.”

“Huh?”

“You….you never canceled the stupid Hulu subscription when we got the Disney Plus bundle. And you kept having to trek all the way across town to get the mail, because you forgot to change the address when we moved, and you-”

“I don’t really see how-”

“You forgot to change your emergency contact, Satoru. After we broke up, you-you forgot to call them and tell them that they shouldn’t call me.” you hum, as Gojo’s hand tightens in it’s hold around yours.

“Oh shit, Y/N. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

You lurch up from your chair, tangling your arms around his neck as you crackle his head into your frame, that incessant stream of tears pouring down your eyes as he brings his own arms around yours.

And it feels too fast, because suddenly Nanami and Yuuta are back at your sides, giving you sympathetic glances as they wheel Gojo away and you’re left standing in the hallway, flat against the wall, every horrible outcome of the next four hours playing through your head.

On hour five, already a bad sign, you’re sitting flat against the floor with a jello cup in your hand and in Megumi’s spare pair of scrubs. They’re both sitting at your sides, the dead quiet of the night shift leaving them with you.

“Kento likes to be really careful, Y/N. That’s all it is.” Megumi states, giving his best attempts at calm reassurance.

“And Yuuta’s great. We all love Yuuta, he’s sweet….intelligent. He’s more than capable to do this.” Yuuji adds.

You crack through every last bone in your finger, the entire interaction playing over in your head.

“I-I just went in there so fast. And the time was so…so short that I didn’t even say much to him.” you respond, sighing.

“When’s Yuri coming?”

You turn your head to the side, in confusion, before you register Yuji’s words all together.

“Why would he-”

You panic, remembering that you had never texted Yuri back, that he’s probably fuming in his own pit of rage right now at his apartment, cursing your name to god knows what degree. You reach for your phone in your pocket, only to find no notifications from him. You scroll up on the chat, only to find that he hadn’t texted you the entire day, yesterday.

His last text read April 28th, a reminder that he needed you to pick up his drycleaning for his golf game this weekend.

“He’s really an asshole, isn’t he?” you spit.

You see Megumi and Yuuji give each other wide eyed looks over the top of your head, as you click your phone shut and let it fall to the ground.

Because in the dim lights of this hospital, with Satoru’s blood, some of it still smeared on the side of your hand, you feel like you’re seeing clearly for the first time in years.

That really, Yuri in actuality, is not the one for you. And it’s not that he’s a bad guy, he’s honorable in some sense really, but what he gives isn’t even a fraction close to what you want.

He’s tall and lanky. The type of guy to represent every portion of the food triangle in the three meals he ate. He wakes up at five in the morning to go to the gym before an entire day at work, and still somehow finds time to read and run a personal wellness blog when he gets home.

He’s classy, in every sense of the term. The exact type of man you envision when you think of someone put together, wholly and fully. On top of their shit, living their best life, one that people aspired to.

And that was in no way what you wanted.

You wanted Satoru. Satoru who convinces you that there’s still enough room for a little treat after dinner, despite the fact that you both stuffed yourself full at the restaurant. He sleeps in late on the weekends, pressing lazy kisses to your skin to wake you up before entirely botching the whole breakfast in bed thing he was trying to impress you with.

He was real, in every sense of the term. The type of person you envision when you imagine the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He’s funny, he’s kind and he most certainly would never leave you stranded at a restaurant on your one year anniversary. Because Satoru Gojo certainly wasn’t classy, but he was honorable. And if he promised to be somewhere, he’d be there early, making sure everything was perfect before you got there.

And right now, two of your most trusted co-workers had their hands inside his body cavity, trying to fix the mess in there.

When Gojo comes to, there’s an aching soreness in his torso and neck. He can feel the tense pressure around his arms too, bandages wrapped around every square inch of his body. But that warm feeling around his wrist was entirely different from the rest.

He opens his eyes to find you, fast asleep with your head down on the side of his bed and your hand secured tightly around his wrist. Your breaths are slow, so deep in your sleep that you don’t even process Satoru moving around you amidst your slumber.

He brings his hand down to your hair and watches you lean into his touch, nuzzling your head closer to the blanket. Your hair is messy at this point, bunched up at the top of your head in the messiest knot he’s seen you sport yet.

There’s a knock at the door and Yuuji is standing there, a small smile on his face.

“Good morning, Mr. Gojo. Welcome back.”

Satoru smiles as he moves to his side and starts to hook him up to the monitors, taking a set of fresh vitals.

“How are you feeling?”

“Just sore, Yuuji. How are you?”

“Ah. Night shift. Same old.”

“Is that little emo you like here?”

Satoru watches Yuuji’s cheeks go bright pink, as he starts fumbling with the cuff around his hand.

“Ah, you mean, Megumi? Y/N’s resident? No, he-he’s off tonight.” he stumbles.

“Shame. Nothing like flirting on the night shift.” Satoru states, clicking his tongue.

“Oh, I don’t flirt with-”

“Well, you should. He’s cute. And a doctor. Someone is going to snatch him up real fast.” Satoru states, definitively.

“Mr. Gojo, I don’t know if-”

“Trust me. I know all too well. People swoop in for the doctors before you can even fight to get them back.” Satoru states, reaching down to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Well, I-”

“I’m just saying, kid. Swoop in before it’s too late.” he states, giving him a smile.

“Yeah. Sure, I-I will. Do you need anything else, Mr. Gojo?”

“Can you get her a blanket? She always gets allergies when it’s too drafty in the room she’s sleeping in.”

Yuuji smiles, tapping on the railings of the bed.

“Sure thing.”

And Yuuji curses himself for doing it, for meddling, but he pokes his head into the room one last time before leaving.

“And just so you know. You….sometimes you think it’s too late to swoop. But it’s actually like…the perfect time. To swoop….like a bird or something, I don’t know-” Yuuji stammers.

And when Yuuji leaves and Gojo is able to process his words, he’s trying his best to wipe the smile off of his face.

“Hey, Megs. How are his vitals today?” you ask, swiveling over in your chair.

Megumi, irritated with your constant pestering, has had enough of his fill today. He swings his own chair around, tugging at the stethoscope around his neck, as he glares at you.

“For the hundredth time, your little boo boo bear is just fine. We’re planning to discharge tomorrow.”

You frown, reaching for the closest item - a roll of gauze - and throw it square in his face.

“He’s not my boo boo bear. And I’m just checking. You know he could have complications after the surgery like inf-”

“Infection, hypotension, septic shock, multiple system organ failure, yeah yeah. I know. I graduated top of my class at medical school, you know?”

“And yet here you are, being taught by Shoko. You’re clearly not that great if you’re being trained by a girl who cheated her way through medical school.”

“I’m going to leave. And when I’m gone, you’re going to be really pissed because you’re going to be stuck with some idiot that can’t even take vitals.” Megumi deadpans, swiveling back to his computer.

“No, you’re not. You’d never leave your boo boo bear hanging. Especially since he’s planning on asking you on a date tomorrow.”

“He’s not asking me on a date.” Megumi responds.

You smile, trying to swallow your laugh as you respond.

“Oh, sure he is. And-”

Your phone timer goes off, as you gleefully sprint out of your chair, and down the hall to Satoru’s room. Nanami’s in there, unwrapping his bandages, as you knock and enter to make your presence known. At the sight of you, Nanami’s glaring as you drag the chair up and sit at his side.

“Y/N. You should be working.”

“I’m on my lunch. And I’m allowed to do whatever I want for lunch.”

“You should eat something, Y/N. Instead of bothering our patients.” Nanami scolds, as he shuts the door behind you and you turn to Satoru.

Satoru looks way better, the bruising on his skin fading to yellow and the cuts all around his skin healing. He’s smiling softly, a hand cupping your cheek as he talks.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

“Hi Satoru.”

“You know, you really should eat something on your lunch break.”

“You know, you really should keep your annoying opinions to yourself.” you respond.

He scoffs, moving his hand to mess up your hair, as you swat his hands off.

“So.” Satoru states.

“So?”

“A little birdie told me that you broke up with Yuri last night.”

“Well, your little birdie was wrong. As nosy as he is, he clearly doesn’t know how to listen.”

You both laugh, Gojo slightly dejected by your response, as you lace your hands through his, and smile at your hands firmly pressed together.

“Yuuji’s got a bad case of the chismosa virus.”

“And you don’t? I heard you giggling with Shoko at the nurses station about how the emo is going to ask Yuuji on a date.”

“No, Yuuji's asking Megumi on the date. And okay, but that’s actually a big deal. I’ve been trying to set that up for months.”

“Well, you can’t take credit because I’m actually the one who got Yuuji to do it.”

You frown, reaching forward to pinch his cheeks.

“Shut up. It’s only the months of build up, that I basically created, that’s making him do it.”

“Well, I pushed him over the edge. So it’s my victory.”

You sigh, sitting back in your chair as you smile at him, at how easily you both fall back into this.

“How about we both did it?” you ask, giving him a smile.

“Sure. We always did make a good team.” he responds, making your cheeks burn.

You reach for his blanket and start moving his gown to inspect the incision, trying to make sure that the site wasn’t getting infected, from when you checked yesterday. .

“Okay, pervert. I didn’t realize you were into voyeurism.” Satoru says, incredulously.

“Gojo. Do you even know what voyeurism means?”

“Yeah. It’s people who like to have sex in public.”

You snort, moving the edge of the gown as you note the clean sutures, healing well along the length of his torso.

“That is not what voyeurism means, dumbass.”

“Sorry. I didn’t realize I was fighting with the sex kink expert here.”

“I-I’m not a sex kink expert! You’re just fucking stupid.”

“Oh, shut up.”

You roll your eyes, as you settle back into the chair, reaching forward to cup his face. He smiles, soft and warm, which you return.

“You’re healing really well. It’ll just be a faint line, right around your torso when you’re out of here.” you murmur.

“It kinda looks like I got my legs cut off and someone sewed them back on.” he murmurs.

“That’s not funny.” you deadpan, glaring at him.

“Kinda funny. That’s a really unfortunate way to die.” he responds.

“I know there’s a universe out there where that actually happens to you. And I know for a fact that Satoru doesn’t think it’s funny at all.”

“Okay, Doctor Strange. Let’s pipe down there, alright? Even if that did happen to me, I’d come back from it. Because guess what?”

“Don’t say it.” you groan.

“Because I’m the strongest.”

“You know that never gets less annoying right?”

“You love it.” he responds, reaching forward to pinch your cheek.

You look down, at your hand tangled in Satoru’s as you find a way to broach the topic. That for all intents and purposes, that you want nothing to do with Yuri. That you want him, that you do love his stupid jokes, that you’d beg on your hands and knees for him to take you back because-

“Do you want to go to the aquarium on Friday?” Satoru asks.

��The aquarium?”

“Yeah. We can take a picnic basket, eat on the lawn outside afterwards.” Satoru says.

You swallow the lump in your throat, aggressively nodding in response.

“Yeah. That sounds nice. We can um-carpool.”

“Sure. It’s a date.” he responds, leaning into his pillow with a soft smile on his face.

You bite down the stupid smile that’s rising to your cheeks, as you close your eyes, humming in agreement.

“Yeah. It’s a date.” you whisper back.

Eight days after the fact and Yuri, in his infinite wisdom, finally comes through. That’s when he musters the courage to bring himself to your apartment, where Satoru has been staying with you since he was discharged. And when Satoru answers the door, Yuri’s all levels of pissed.

“Who are you?” Yuri asks.

“I’m the owner of this house.” Gojo responds, trying not to laugh at his own joke.

“Did Y/N move?”

“No, dumbass. It was a joke.” he responds, rolling his eyes.

Satoru leans off of the door frame, calling for you, as you join him at his side.

“Hey, you okay? I was planning on making lunch for- oh.”

Satoru smiles, reaching forward to ruffle your hair, before he shuffles away.

“Holler if you need me.”

You shoot Satoru a grateful smile, infinitely thankful that the two of you were able to pick up right where you left off, as you turn to Yuri in your doorway.

“Where were you on Saturday?” he asks, arms crossed over his chest.

You swallow hard, rehearsing the speech you had prepared with Satoru when you were tangled in his arms last night, and make your best attempt to deliver the blow the best you can.

“Yuri. I think we should stop seeing each other.”

“What?”

“I just don’t think that we’re really compatible. You and I are…on different wavelengths. And you deserve someone who is better suited to you and your….interests.” you murmur, awkwardly rubbing your arms on your arms.

In actuality, you feel a little bit bad. That technically, you might have been…a little bit dishonest with Yuri. Because you’re having this conversation with him, days after the fact, when you’ve already done god knows what with Gojo in the past few days he’s been back with you. He’s all but living in your apartment at this point, under the premise of needing twenty four hour medical support, when really, you’re both just soaking up on time you lost.

Time is so precious, that you forgot to tell Yuri until he showed up, on your doorstep. You finally understand why Yuri was late to things, because whatever he was doing when he wasn’t with you, must have been keeping him occupied the way this was keeping you occupied.

Because you kept planning on calling him, but then Gojo would take you out to breakfast. Or you’d sleep in too late and then knew that you’d be interrupting Yuri at work. And the list, it went on and on and led you to this moment and it’s painfully awkward.

And maybe it’s bad, a little bit evil even, but that small bit of bad feeling is overshadowed by every bit of good that you’ve felt in the past few days. At Gojo ordering dessert out of nowhere, that he insists he’s sharing with you before he eats almost the entire thing, or when he drags you to the bathroom when he’s doing his night time hair care routine.

“Where were you? On Saturday?”

“Look, I just got called into work, okay?”

“Are you…are you serious? Don’t tell me you’re really dating that dumbass who just answered the door?”

“Frankly, it’s none of your business who I date anymore because you…you aren’t really a part of my life anymore. And we’re not dating, we’re just-”

“God. He flashes one pretty smile at you and you go running back to him? Need I remind you, that you complained about him for months on end. About how he’s messy, he’s careless, he’s-”

“That stuff doesn’t matter. At least not anymore.”

“You’re a bitch, you know that?”

You feel Gojo padding behind you, and you put your hand up in the air, signaling for him to stay where he is.

“Do you really want to know where I was on April 29th? On our one year anniversary, I was sitting in a shitty restaurant, for an hour and a half waiting for you to show up. When I hadn’t heard from you all day. And then I got a call, that the man that I love was in the hospital, and then I was at his side. Willing him to wake up, because I would be so fucking angry, so fucking pissed if he died and I didn’t get to tell him that he meant the world to me.”

Yuri swallows hard, the look of betrayal etched on his face.

“Are you trying to hurt me right now? Do you get some kind of sick gratification from killing the one you love?” he asks.

“I’d argue that my way is nicer actually. One fell swoop, with the truth out there. The slowest way to kill someone is never loving them enough. And honestly, it’s just cruel. And of course, something that you were too skilled at.”

You’re not sure what it is about what you said, but suddenly Yuri’s stomping down the hallway and you’re shutting the door, as the tears start pouring out of your eyes and you’re leaning against the door.

Now that Yuri’s gone, Satoru’s shed all his inhibitions and he’s cradling you straight in his arms, his soft voice cooing in your ear as you hiccup into his chest.

“Hey. You did so good, princess.”

“I-I’m not crying because I’m sad. I still…I still want you, you know?”

Satoru smiles, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks in his hand and wipe your tears away.

“I know that, sweetheart. I’m irresistible.” he murmurs.

You lightly shove him, before resting your head against his torso, hearing the rapid beating of his heart under your ear.

“I’m just really relieved. That you-that you’re-”

You look up, at his sparkling blue eyes, the tiny fractals of color like perfectly constructed, charted constellations in his eyes.

“I’m glad you’re here. Again.”

He smiles wide, leaning forward to press his lips to your forehead.

“Me too, yeah?”

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist:

@porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme

lmk if you would like to be added to my taylor as gojo or my general masterlist in the replies or inbox <3

418 notes · View notes

altsvu · 5 months

Note

Congrats on 200 bunny!!!! You deserve it 🌸

Can I ask for a Hotch request pls? You can literally write anything you want, any prompt, but pls do the classic ‘we’re barely friends and oops there’s only one bed in this hotel room’ bc it’s my fave trope ever!!

“there’s a first for everything”, they say

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!black!fem!reader

prompts used: 40) “I love the way you look with my fingers inside you.” 58) “Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.” 93) “It’s okay, honey, you can pull my hair as hard as you want while I’m between your legs.” from the 100 smut prompts!

summary: hotch invites you and the rest of the BAU on a vacation to the Bahamas, but his demeanor changes when he sees you and interacts with you outside of the professional setting for the first time.

wc: 1855

tw: pining (mentions of it), teasing, dirty talk, oral sex, p in v sex, mentions of sex, smut in general

a/n: i literally could not find a good gif for this so this will do! also this is a combination of another fic idea that i had so i kinda put a bit of a twist on this, i still hope you enjoy marley!! ❤️ @angelhotchner

criminal minds masterlist! ✯ taglist!

✯✯✯✯

The BAU had finally gotten vacation time, and all you wanted was to go home and sleep for 24 hours. But when Hotch invited you and the rest of the BAU to the Bahamas, it was hard for you to say no.

You wondered how it would go since you never really interacted with Hotch outside of cases, but maybe he might actually talk to you on a different level.

Then again, you were barely friends with him, acquaintance at most.

When the time finally came to pack for the trip, it was much harder than expected. After about 3 hours, you finally had your suitcases and your carry-on packed and ready to go.

Finally, you and the rest of the team were on the plane. To your luck, you and Hotch were sitting next to each other, with you at the window seat.

“Hey.” he smiled after settling down. You turned and smiled back at him and said hey back.

You couldn’t help but notice how good he looked. Like really good. His polo was doing him justice showing off his buff arms and chest, and his hair was fluffed to perfection. God, even his hands caught your eyes. His hands were big and veiny and you had recurring thoughts of him putting those hands to work.

On you.

Stop it, you told yourself.

You and Hotch were quiet the beginning of the flight, but you soon engaged in intriguing conversation with him. From expressing feelings about taking a break from all the gore that was part of working at the BAU, to sharing favorite scenes of movies that the both of you watched, that was the first non-work related conversation you’ve had with him.

And it felt amazingly natural, despite the bits of awkwardness in between.

The flight had a 55 minute layover in Miami, which you didn’t know about until you heard on the intercom, which woke you up from your rather comfortable nap.

That was when you noticed you had been napping with your head resting against Hotch’s arm. You quickly sat up and made sure he didn’t notice.

So much for barely friends.

During the layover, you curled up in a chair doing some digital art pieces on your iPad while eating lunch. You made it clear that you didn’t want to be bothered by anyone by putting in your headphones.

Hotch included.

You felt too embarrassed to talk to him after finding out you slept on him.

And didn’t even do anything about it.

He probably felt some type of way.

Or not.

You didn’t even bother figuring out his feelings, instead you spent the rest of the flight making mental notes of what you would do when you finally arrived.

✯✯✯✯

Bikinis were Hotch’s weakness. Well bikinis on you.

How did you know that?

You noticed that he couldn’t help but stare at you from the moment you took off your coverup, and when you walked past him at the beach, when you were resting on your beach chair talking with Penelope and Spencer, or alone reading a book, when you were playing beach volleyball with him, Morgan and JJ, and even when you were sipping on martinis with Rossi and Emily. Other people were checking you out too, but it seemed like Hotch was checking you out the most, admiring how beautiful the baby pink bikini looked against your golden chocolate skin.

So much for barely friends right?

The beach outing with the whole team was fun and you enjoyed your time there but you left the beach earlier than expected, spending some time alone shopping in nearby areas around the hotel. There was no reason in particular, you just liked spending time with yourself any chance you could.

You got back to the hotel room you were sharing with Hotch due to availability reasons, and quickly rid yourself of your clothes besides your bra and underwear and prepared to shower.

Until you realized that you forgot to bring your robe. bonnet and shower cap with you in the bathroom.

Hotch just so happened to walk in just as you were looking for it.

“Y/N, are you sleeping in that?”

“Oh shit!” you yelped, scrambling to cover your body. He came over to you after dropping his stuff on the ground. “Sorry,” you said sheepishly.

“Hey.” he whispered. “It’s just me.”

You felt yourself calm down instantly, but it just increased the level of awkwardness between you and him. After your shower, you got dressed for the night, which consisted of an oversized shirt and a pair of boy shorts, and relaxed in bed reading a book.

Hotch laid down next to you about 30 minutes later and you fell asleep moments after.

✯✯✯✯

Waking up in the middle of the night, you felt a warm body lean against you. You turned and gasped in fear until you realized it was Hotch.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Hotch asked, turning around and placing his hand on your shoulder.

"Yeah sorry, I forgot I was sharing a bed with you for a moment." you breathed.

"I'm sorry I scared you out of your sleep."

You shook your head and turned back around. "It's not your fault."

It was silent between the two of you for a bit, and then Hotch reached over to massage your shoulders. It felt nice, you haven't had a massage in a while, if not ever. It was as if Hotch knew what you needed, what you were thinking about. A slight moan escaped your lips from how good it felt.

"Is that turning you on Y/N?" Hotch chuckled.

"No, it just feels really good."

Liar. It’s turning you on.

"I can make you feel good in other places, if you want."

“Oh, so that’s what we’re doing now?” you said, turning to face him with a smile on your face.

Hotch didn’t reply, instead he pulled you a bit closer to him and caressed your cheek.

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”

“I do, but please remind me.”

He went into specifics about how he’d been admiring you from a distance and how he was scared to become close friends with you and screw it up.

“Y/N, you truly faze me.” he said at the end.

You felt your cheeks burning up at Hotch practically confessing his love to you. Without notice, he pressed a kiss on your lips. You went back in for more, and next thing you knew, you were on your back with Hotch’s hand lifting up your shirt. You helped him take it off, and there you were, almost naked again in front of him.

“Suddenly you don’t seem so shy to be naked in front of me.” he smiled.

“That’s because before, I was pretending that I didn’t like you.”

“Oh, so you like me.” Hotch murmured in between kisses to your clavicle.

You wanted to respond, but Hotch’s fingers were inching to your boy shorts and you felt yourself clenching up by his touch, so a smile was the best you could have done in the moment.

And next thing you know, they’re off.

You helped Hotch out of his clothes and the two of you were both naked.

In a hotel bedroom.

In the middle of the night.

You never thought you’d ended up this far with Hotch, let alone just being friends, or almost friends, with him. This was going through your mind as he was on top of you, kissing all over your body.

His hand was slowly trailing up your leg, then to your folds. He reached your clit and rubbed soft circles on it, all while pushing his pointer and middle fingers inside you.

With your past experience being intimate with other men, none of them ever made you feel this good with just their fingers. In fact, it was much different than you’ve ever experienced before.

“I love the way you look with my fingers inside you,” Hotch whispered, looking up at you.

You shuddered in pleasure when he said that, it felt reassuring.

He continued doing this through your first three orgasms. It got even more intense when he pulled his fingers out, devoured your juices and smashed his tongue on your opening. At this point you wanted to just grab fistfuls of his hair and moan at the top of your lungs.

Hotch being the profiler he is, knew exactly what you were yearning for.

“It’s okay, honey, you can pull my hair as hard as you want while I’m between your legs.” he said, looking up at you again with a quirky grin on his face.

Your hands were now full of his soft black hair, reaching the climax of your fourth orgasm.

Before you could reach another one, Hotch stopped what he was doing, laid down on the bed and pulled you onto his lap. You shuddered at the feeling of his hands on your waist.

“I want to feel you,” he whispered. “Can I do that?”

“Yes, please.” you pleaded.

He adjusted himself to your opening, and to say you were in shock would be an understatement. The initial thrust almost had you crying out for mercy the way it felt so good. A throaty groan escaped Hotch’s lips.

“You must be enjoying this,” you said.

“I am. You’re so good to me.”

That made you blush as you loved words of affirmation.

It was like Hotch knew everything about you. He knew all the right things to say, and all the right places to touch you. In a way, his job as a profiler never ended.

He switched positions so that he was on top of you, passionately looking into your eyes while doing so. He was the one with the mastery in eye contact.

At this point, you already knew the bonnet was off and the knotless braids you had in would get a bit frizzy at the top. But you didn’t care. Hotch was making you feel better than ever, filling that certain void in your life.

He had your legs up and thrusted into you with everything in him, and it made you moan in a way you never imagined you could do.

Another climax was approaching and you could feel it. You came faster than expected with Hotch in your ear whispering for you to do it for him. Short moments later, he was right there with you with his high.

“So much for not even being friends.” You laughed softly.

Hotch pulled you into his arms and kissed you. “So much, huh?”

“What do you think the others are gonna say when they find out? I know one of them heard us.”

“I’m glad they heard. Maybe they’ll talk about how loud you got for me.”

That made you giggle.

“Anyways, my special agent, we have to sleep soon. Or there might be more rounds.”

And surely enough, the two of you slept in each other’s arms after cleaning up, and you slept way better than you did before being woken up.

✯✯✯✯

taglist: @averyhotchner @storiesofsvu @ssaic-jareau @blackbeautifulqueen @mstrinnyb @will-on-the-internet @mrshadeelharingtonmadden

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rollinouttahere · 1 year

Text

Joyride

Yandere Strawhats + Ace x Isekai Reader

2.2k words

Part 2

Yet again, this fic is inspired by @lovelybrooke ‘s Isekai reader stories.

I also want to say thank you for all the support and kind comments on the last story I wrote! I’ve actually been working on my own yandere one piece fic that I’m hoping to start posting in a few days give or take, so if you like what I’ve written so far, keep an eye out for that! All future writings are gonna be posted on my writing blog @rollinouttahere-writes so go follow that blog if you’re interested!

Trying to act normal and inconspicuous in the One Piece universe was a far from easy task. Being the massive fan of the series that you were, it was damn hard to not give away that you knew all about the crew that was so generously letting you stay with them after appearing on their ship with zero explanation.

It became even harder to stay lowkey when Ace temporarily joined up with the Strawhats. All you wanted was to hug that man and tell him how loved he is and that he deserves to live just as much as anyone else, but you really couldn’t say or do any of that without looking weird. You’ll just have to settle for being extremely nice to him, which was very easy.

Ace himself was already an easy guy to get along with (now at least), but he was noticeably very interested in you. You couldn’t blame him, what with Luffy almost immediately outing your insane situation to him. He seemed incredulous at first, but warmed up to and accepted the story way faster than you expected. It didn’t take long for his questions to go from feeling like an interrogation to being genuine.

You were so busy soaking up the attention from such a beloved character that you almost missed how jealous your crewmates were getting. Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper were taking it the best. Chopper probably because he was still so new to the crew that he wasn’t all that bothered by one of them not paying as much attention to him. Usopp was too busy building Nami’s weapon to concern himself with it too much. Meanwhile, Luffy was just so happy to see Ace again that he didn’t really notice that you were spending a lot of time with him. That, and he would usually be hanging out with both of you anyways.

The others though, oh boy did they not like this. Nami was the most blatant about it, straight up glowering at you and Ace whenever you two were too close for her liking. You’re pretty sure the only thing keeping her from up and dragging you away from him is Luffy dismissing her complaints and telling her to stop fretting over it. You love being a part of their crew, so she should quit worrying!

Sanji and Zoro were both vying for your attention in their own ways as well. Sanji suddenly wanted more help around the kitchen, insisting that he needed an extra pair of hands now that there was another mouth to feed. Given that Ace’s appetite was on par with Luffy’s, you could understand the desire for help. Zoro’s attempts were considerably less convincing. One time he wanted you to spot him while he was working out, making you laugh right in his face at the mere idea that you would be able to help him with the ridiculous weights he lifts. His face had gone bright red after you pointed it out to him, prompting him to walk away immediately, much to your amusement.

Right now, though, you weren’t with Ace. Him and Luffy were busy doing something and you didn’t want to butt in on all their time together. Instead, you were ogling Ace’s boat that was currently tied to the side of the Going Merry.

You absolutely loved the design of his ship, it was such a clever idea to use his devil fruit ability to power a steam engine and make what looks like a tiny sailboat function like a jet ski. It didn’t appear in the anime too many times but everytime it was on screen it looked so cool.

“I wonder what it’d be like to ride that,” you quietly mused to yourself.

“Wanna find out?”

You almost jumped out of your skin at the sudden arrival of Ace. He laughed at your reaction, not a care in the world for the near heart attack he just gave you.

“Oh my God, Ace, you scared the hell out of me!” You lightly slapped at his shoulder, your other hand resting over your now racing heart.

He laughed some more, “I could tell, and I’m sorry about that.” He didn’t sound even vaguely sorry. Ace elbowed your side, “But seriously, do you want to go for a ride?”

The offer had you staring wide-eyed at him. Then the boat. Then back at him again. “Really? Are you sure?” You were desperately trying to keep your cool and not show how insanely excited you were about the idea.

“Of course! I wouldn’t have offered it if I wasn’t. Come on,” he hopped up onto the railing and held his hand out to you. You didn’t need to mull it over, eagerly taking hold and stepping up with him. As soon as you did, he wrapped an arm around you and was ready to jump down onto his boat when Nami started yelling.

“Woah, woah, woah, what the hell are you two doing???” Nami, who was previously pruning her trees, had abandoned the activity entirely in favor of sprinting over to where you were and grabbing onto your leg.

“(Y/N) wanted to try riding my boat, so we’re going for a little joyride, that’s all,” Ace flashed Nami a dazzling smile, not at all deterred by her interruption.

“No way! What if they fall off? That thing doesn’t look safe at all!” Nami was now pulling on you, trying to get you down from the railing.

Ace held on tighter in response, “It’s perfectly safe, it has to be. I’m a devil fruit user, remember? (Y/N) isn’t, so really, I’m in more danger on that than they are. It’s fine.”

You could tell Nami was ready to argue more, but thankfully Luffy piped up, “Don’t worry about it Nami! If Ace says it’s safe then it’s safe!” Luffy, who was perched on his special seat at the bow, came bounding over, “But I wanna go next!”

“Sure thing, Luffy, we’ll be back in a bit,” Ace was quick to jump down with you in tow, not wanting to give any of the other Strawhats a chance to object. After untying it from the Going Merry, he knelt down slightly, “Hop on my back, you’re not gonna want to have your feet down there when we get going.”

Not wanting to get set on fire, you obliged. If you weighed anything to him, he didn’t show it, simply standing up straight as soon as you were on. “Ready?”

You excitedly nod your head, holding on tight to Ace in preparation. It was a good thing too, because he decided to immediately start at the leisurely speed of what felt like mach 7. A shriek emits from your throat as you take off. You think you can hear Nami yelling something again, but couldn’t make it out over your own screaming and the noise of the steam engine roaring to life.

Ace laughed loudly at your reaction, but did slow down slightly, “Sorry about that, I just wanted to get some distance before anyone else tried to stop us.” One of his arms let go of your leg and tugged at your arms around his neck, “But would you mind easing up a bit? I won’t be able to take us back if you choke me out.”

“Oh oops, I’m sorry!” You immediately loosened your arms and readjusted them. Accidentally strangling Ace was not something you wanted to do today. Or any day really.

He simply shrugged it off, telling you not to worry about it. It’s not like you could really hurt him. “I’m gonna speed up again, you ready for it this time?”

The second you confirm that you are, the boat lurches forward, cutting through the waves like nothing. Now that you weren’t panicking, you could properly take in the experience and thoroughly enjoy it.

The wind was whipping through your hair and sea water misted the air, droplets clinging to both yours and Ace’s hair. He hit a particularly big wave causing the boat to go airborne for a moment before crashing back down. You found yourself laughing and cheering as Ace continued to show off, which only egged him on more.

After a while, Ace slowed to a stop and let you down from his back. “C’mere, step up on this,” he stepped to the side and motioned for you to step up onto the front of his boat. His hands rested on your hips to keep you steady, presumably not wanting to get chewed out by Nami if you came back sopping wet.

“This is one of the best parts of being at sea,” he was staring straight ahead. “Sunsets out here are something else, you don’t get a view like this on land.”

He was completely correct, it was beautiful. Orange, red, and pink hues colored the sky and reflected gorgeously in the ocean. It was a breathtaking view, one you would remember forever.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, quietly admiring the view with nothing but the natural sounds of the ocean around you. It was nice, very peaceful.

“What do you think about staying here?”

You tense at Ace suddenly speaking. “Like staying out here a little longer?” As lovely as this was, the others were bound to get antsy if you stayed out after dark.

“No, I mean staying here in this world,” he stepped closer to you, wrapping his arms fully around you and resting his head on your shoulder to be able to see your face. “It’s nice here, right? Why not stick around? I know Luffy wants you to. Hell, I’m sure the rest of the crew does, too.”

You were taken aback by this statement, and weren’t really sure how to respond. Sure, it could be nice here when you all weren’t being hunted for sport by marines, but this wasn’t a place you could see yourself staying long term. That, and you had a life back home, you couldn’t just throw your friends and family to the wind like that.

Sucking in a breath, you searched for the nicest way to say all that. “It is nice here, but I have to go back.” You could feel his posture stiffen behind you, “Don’t get me wrong, you all have been super nice to me! It’s just that I’ve got all my friends and family back home and I miss them terribly.”

“Your family?” Ace said this so quietly that you weren’t even sure he was saying that to you. Abruptly, he straightened up, “I know! If you want a family so bad you can join the Whitebeard pirates!”

What? You joining the Whitebeard pirates? You already feel inadequate enough around the Strawhats, you can’t imagine how pathetic you would feel around those people. Of course, it would be awesome to get to meet them, but you want to keep to yourself as much as possible since you will eventually have to go back home.

While you were thinking, Ace kept going, “Pops would love you, I just know it. We haven’t gotten another sibling in a while, everyone would be psyched to meet you.” His once comforting hug was growing tighter by the second. Suffocating even.

“Ace-”

“And you already have friends with my brother’s crew, so that’s all taken care of!”

“Ace, ple-”

“Of course, I’m your friend too, but after you join I’ll be your big brother!”

“ACE!” Your yell startled him, mercifully making him let go of you. You take the opportunity to inch forward and create some distance, however minute. “That’s,” oh, how to put this without hurting his feelings, “that’s very kind of you to offer, but I’d rather stay with the Strawhats for now.”

“Oh…” You don’t even need to turn around to know how disappointed he was by this declaration. He chuckled awkwardly, “I’m sorry about that, looks like I got a little carried away there.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” frankly, you just wanted to go back to the ship after that. The atmosphere was uncomfortable now.

After a few more seconds of silence, Ace cleared his throat and spoke again, “We should probably head back now, it’s gonna be dark soon.”

You were quick to agree and clambered onto his back, “Yeah that’s a good idea, Nami would throw a fit if we stay out much longer.” She’ll probably be mad regardless, but still.

Ace got his boat going and began the trip back. The Going Merry was a lot further away than you’d realized, it was so small that you could just barely make it out in the distance. You internally cringe, your crewmates are no doubt unhappy about you being this far away.

Despite the distance, you couldn’t help but notice how slow Ace was going compared to earlier. It’s like he wanted to drag this out for as long as possible. You decided not to call him out on it, not deeming it worth it.

“I’m not giving up, you know.”

“What?”

“I’ll drop it for now, but I’m not giving up on you joining Whitebeard’s crew. Just… think about it, okay?” Ace’s voice was quiet, just barely loud enough to hear over the engine.

The rest of the ride back remained dead silent, giving you plenty of time to mull over what just happened. It felt so… Weird. Out of character, really. He’s known you for, what? 24 hours? If that. Yet he’s trying to talk you out of going home and seems dead set on replacing your family with his own. Granted, everyone’s been more clingy than you thought normal, but this was downright bizarre.

You really need to find a way home, and fast.

#one piece #yandere one piece #one piece x reader #yandere #portgas d ace #one piece ace #monkey d luffy #luffy #nami #one piece nami #zoro roronoa #sanji #we believe in alabasta ace supremacy here

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dickarchivist · 8 days

Text

Lullaby of the Wolffe

Wolffe × GN!Reader

Word Count: 1087

Playlist: Lullaby of the Wolffe

Rating: PG Fluff, but as always Minors DNI 🔞

Contents and Warnings: Insomnia, growing panic due to Insomnia, service animal (charhound), intrusive thoughts, swear words, soft Wolffe, potentially OOC Wolffe, fluff, hurt/comfort, soft sleepy singing

Summary: plagued by anxiety, you can't sleep. Despite your best efforts, Wolffe wakes up beside you. Instead of being angry, he offers you a Lullaby to try and help calm you down.

Author's Notes: The other night I had really bad panic Insomnia and I wanted a comfort fic tailored to my bullshit. I decided it would be a good idea to make a playlist of songs I felt like Wolffe would sing to me in a soft baritone while rubbing my back and trying to soothe me out of my panic. Now that I've made it through the night, I'm writing the fic to go with the playlist. Please enjoy both! I hope you get some rest.

Taglist: @anxiouspineapple99 @wolffegirlsunite @wizardofrozz @eclec-tech @dystopicjumpsuit @clonethirstingisreal @wings-and-beskar @multi-fan-dom-madness @starrylothcat @n0vqni @sev-on-kamino @mythical-illustrator @523rdrebel @littlemissmanga @atomickidsoul @moonwreckd

You can't sleep.

You went for a run. You hit the gym. You walked your charhound. You read a whole book, from start to finish. Cooked meals for the whole week, cleaned the house top to bottom, The laundry was even folded.

You can't sleep.

It wasn't for lack of trying. You'd lay in your bed, but as soon as you'd turned off the distractions, you were alone, and everything else came rushing in to attack you.

"You left the stove on. No. Not the stove, the oven. What's that smell? Are you burning the house down!?" You jump out of bed, run to the kitchen, and there's nothing wrong. The place is just how you left it. That burning smell was the crisp charcoal smell of your service charhound, Soot. You mentally kick yourself, how could you be so stupid? You know that smell, you've known it since she was a pup...

Back in bed. Okay, you think, okay this time will be it. This time you'll sleep.

"You forgot to feed Soot. Useless stupid owner how could you do that to your own baby?" But Soot is asleep at your bedside, her belly warm with her meal. You lay back down. You try to sleep.

You. Can't. Sleep.

Tears well in your eyes and you scream. You're so tired. You can't believe how exhausted you are and yet not a single moment of rest finds you. Soot gets up and puts herself in your arms to keep you from getting distructive. Her higher temperature keeps you warm, but all you feel is cold. You don't sleep a moment all night.

You feel sick, you're sluggish all the next day, because of course. You couldn't sleep. It's been 52 hours. The first day you could hide it, the second it started to show, but today... today you're with the wolfpack. If Plo Koon doesn't bring it to anyone's attention first, you know that Wolffe won't let it slide when he sees you. You've never wanted to stay away from the steely eyed commander more than today.

"You look like hell." Wolffe actually takes his helmet off to get a look at you, and it makes your stomach hurt when you see the concern on his face.

You sigh, roll your eyes, "Thanks. Go away." and turn away from Wolffe, trying to focus on your own work.

"No." His voice is hard, and you want to lash out, but when he grabs your wrist and turns you around, all your anger dissolves at his orders, "Tell me what's going on. Now."

Tears welling in the corners of your eyes, you try to blink them away, try to act tough, but you break under his gaze. "I can't sleep!"

You sob, hard. Wolffe jumps when you rush forward to close the gap, pressing your face against his chestplate, arms clinging around him, and openly sobbing. He hesitates, but eventually puts his arms around you, rubbing your back. It's so comforting, but it only serves to make you cry harder. It makes you realize just how touch starved you've been...

"Alright Cyar'ika, why can't you sleep?" You didn't know his voice could be so soft...

"I d-dont- dont know!" When you pull back, he holds your cheek, rubbing away tears. You close your eyes, and try to breath a little more evenly, "I h-have Insomnia, a-and it's been a few days since-"

"Days?!" Wolffe barks, now holding your face in both hands, "Kriff- you're coming with me."

He grabs your wrist, hauling you through the hallways of the ship. He opens a door to reveal a vacant sleeping quarters, and your stomach drops. "N-no, Wolffe, you don't get it... nothing is going to help, and especially not without Soot here, I won't be able to fall asleep. It's hard enough with Soot, but alone, I can't-"

"Shut up." You do, looking away bashfully, until the door closes behind the two of you, at which point Wolffe starts to take off his armor, "Get in the bed."

You blush wildly, covering your eyes, "Wolffe I'm sleep deprived, not- not sex deprived, I'm really sorry if I misled you but- s-stop laughing!"

"Cyar'ika, we are not having sex. Just getting my armor off so I'm comfortable too. Get in the damn bed, you'll see." Wolffe takes your hands from your eyes and leads you over to a bunk.

He helps you down, takes off your boots, and guides you to lay down. Your face is still hot when he gets into the bed with you, and he earns a squeak from you when he handles you into a cradled position. Your head rests on a pillow between yourself and his arm, comfortable for both of you. His other arms curls around you and you feel his hand rubbing soothingly up and down your back.

"I could use a rest, and you definitely need one. Get some sleep... that's an order." He chuckles at the last part, and for a moment, you think this might actually work.

Unfortunately, as soothing as it is, Wolffe's presence did nothing to stop the panic Insomnia. As soon as it's quiet, your mind starts racing. Thoughts of guilt, of shame, thoughts that this is all pity, that he didn't want you because you're undesirable, that-

"Cyare, quit squirming. What's going through that head of yours?"

"E-everything..." damn it. You didn't even notice your movements, but they'd been enough to wake Wolffe, "Once it's quiet, I can't sleep... can't stop the thoughts..."

There's a long, painfully quiet moment where you think you've said something wrong, until you hear Wolffe take a very deep breath. He kisses your forehead, whisping on your skin, "If you tell anyone about this I swear..."

It starts as a hum, a familiar tune rumbling in his chest. Eventually it builds, and he's whispering the song to you. You pull away a little, looking at Wolffe in awe, "Are you... singing me to sleep?"

"If it works." He kisses your forehead, encourages you to get comfortable again, and then picks up his song again once you're secured to his chest.

You don't even notice when you fall asleep. And you don't know how long you slept, but it was peaceful. Restful. You don't even remember the dreams you had, if you had then at all.

"Hey there Cyar'ika, sleep well?" Waking up in his arms, that's what really felt like a dream.

"Thanks to you, I did."

#from the archivist #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe #wolffe x you #wolffe x reader #wolffe tcw #tcw fanfic #sw the clone wars #sw fic #sw tcw #clone x you #clone x reader #fluff

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dixonsdolls · 11 months

Text

OBSESSED - DARYL DIXON

SYNOPSIS - Coming back from a supply run, Daryl can’t wait to get you alone once he sees you in a flimsy little sundress, smiling at him like he’s the sun. The problem? Daryl’s not the only one looking at you.

pairings: daryl dixon x fem!reader

era: alexandria

word count: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ CONTENT (mdni!!), smut, p in v (unprotected), creampie, jealous!daryl, slight dom!daryl, making out, i cant remember anything else but let me know if i missed anything

A/N: hi everyone <3 while this isn’t my first time writing fics or smut, it is the first time in a while so i hope you enjoy! daryl has me in a chokehold i need him so bad and thus, this work was born. the dress and underwear might be unrealistic, but just go with it. have a wonderful day/night!

NOTE: i do consent to any form of reposting any of my written pieces to any platforms. i repeat, do not repost my work, i do NOT consent!

—

“Got you obsessing now

Counting your blessings now

…

Got the tension so high

You can’t sleep through the night

Know you can’t live without it”

— obsessed by limi ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆

—

The minute the front door had slammed shut, he had pushed you up against it, gentleness thrown out the window completely.

“Daryl,” you breathe out, body tingling and tummy burning with white hot desire as he grips your hair, his other hand holding your throat. “Daryl.”

“Shut up,” he gritted out before slamming his lips down unto yours, thigh wedged between yours and digging up, where your wet, hot cunt jolted at the sudden contact.

The kiss was messy, wet and hot. Tongues rubbed up against each other and spit bubbled from your lips, and the way Daryl was kissing you was so fucking raw, that you couldn’t do anything other than whimper. He tasted like marlboro reds and sin, with a mix of something so utterly Daryl, it had you moaning into his lips.

“Such a fuckin’ brat, huh?” He grunts, fingers around your throat tightening until your brain goes foggy. His pretty blue eyes were blown out with lust, want, and annoyance. “Always tryin’ to piss me off.”

“No— fuck. Swear it, baby. Didn’t mean to make you angry.” It was a pathetic excuse and he retaliated with a harsh yank to your hair, catching your whine with his mouth.

He pulled the flimsy material of your sundress up to your hips, showing off the pretty little thong covering your pussy from him.

Daryl actually growled, loosening his hand from your hair to pull the strap of the lacy material, hard so when it snapped back, your skin would host a rosy mark.

You yelped at the burst of stinging on your hip and Daryl laughed meanly before doing it again, harder.

“S’funny you say that, actin’ like you don’t know what you’re doin’ when you run around in a pretty little thing like that.” Daryl moved his hand so he could pull at you until you rested nicely on his thigh.

“Dunno what you’re talking about, Daryl. Just wanted to look pretty for you when you came back.” You huffed, leaning forward in his arms to reattach your mouth with his, but he pulled back to look at you instead.

The sight of you had him about to burst in his pants; all pink cheeked with spit-slick lips, hazy eyes cloudy with unshed tears at how worked up you were, dress rustled around so your plush thighs were on display. What really got him, though, was the fact that your lace covered cunt was sopping wet and humping his thigh, hips rutting unconsciously and leaving a wet spot on him that was visible each time you pulled back.

Fuck, he thought. He’d never wanted to ruin someone as badly as he did you. And he would, but not before teasing you until you were crying, desperate for him, his mouth, his cock.

“Oh, you did look pretty. Got my attention the minute I saw you in this tiny dress,” he muttered, balling the pink fabric in his hand to prove his point.

“So what’s the problem?” You whined, the ache between your legs becoming too much, hips moving faster against his strong leg.

“Problem is, it wasn’t just me starin’ at you. All the fuckin’ guys were lookin’, and when you ran to me, this,” his hand yanked on the dress, “flew up. Even Rick looked like he wanted to bend you over.”

Fuckin’ dick, Daryl thought.

And once his words sunk in, it all made sense. His coldness once he’d hugged you, dragging you home and away from prying eyes, before attacking you at the door.

He was jealous. Daryl Dixon was fucking jealous.

“Oh,” you stopped your grinding to stare up at him, eyes fluttering as his eyes pierced yours.

“Yeah. I don’t fuckin’ like it, people shouldn’ be lookin’ at what’s mine. I ain’t ever gonna share you.” In his jealousy, he wasn’t seeing how his words and behavior were affecting you.

To hear him be so feral over you, so jealous, made you want to sink onto his cock and never be empty again.

“Daryl Dixon, you’re so hot.”

“Are you even listenin’?” He huffed, annoyance coating his handsome face.

“Daryl, I don’t care if anyone else was looking, I only care you were.” Your hands moved from their place on his shoulders, one hand cupping his stubbly cheek while the other grabbed his own hand, guiding it to your covered heat. “I only want you.”

He was silent, in awe of not only your words but your actions. You pushed his hand into your thong, his fingers immediately coated with your arousal.

“Feel this? That’s for you, only you.”

And, fuck. That sentence had him wanting to rail you right the fuck now, right against the front door.

And that’s exactly what he was gonna do.

“Gonna be the death of me, woman,” Daryl grunted, the reassurance you provided had him moving. “Gonna fuck you stupid, make you forget everything ‘cept me.”

“Please, Daryl.” You begged, all flustered and needy and the last bit of his self control flew out the window.

His mouth crashed with yours and right away, it was so fucking dirty. His fingers brushed your clit and fluttering hole whilst stealing your breath. He bit your bottom lip, hard, before sucking your tongue and swallowing your pretty, pathetic moans.

He hoped all the fucking guys in the community could hear you. He hoped they heard your cries and how you whined his name, not theirs.

The reminder of other eyes that weren’t his tracing your thighs had him breaking your kiss to pick you up, pinching your thighs so they’d wrap around his waist. Daryl shoved two fingers inside you, groaning in your mouth at how fucking tight and hot you were, no matter how many times he fucked you.

“Please—“ you babbled as he fucked you with his calloused fingers and sucked bruises into your neck. “Need you so bad, Daryl. Need you now.”

“I know, baby, gonna give it to you. You just need me inside you, huh?”

“Yes!” You cried out and fuck, who was he to deny his girl what she wanted?

Removing his hand from you, he stuffed two slick soaked fingers into your mouth, shutting up your whines. The feel of you sucking on his fingers, cleaning them from your juices, had him shuddering in anticipation.

His other hand reached between you both to unbuckle his pants, shucking them down with his boxers until they were mid thigh. If he were a better man, he’d of taken you back to bed and fucked you properly.

Though, he never claimed to be a good man. In one movement, he thrusted into you and filled you up completely.

“Oh my god!” You whimpered, hand in his hair pulling the brown strands. “Fuck me, Daryl!”

“Plan on it, darlin’.” He said before he started to move, fucking you in a way it was almost mean with how his tip kept brushing your spot with each thrust.

Your pretty little ‘uh, uh’s grew loud, along with the sound of skin slapping. The door started to rattle as he continued to press you deeper into it, hand slapping the wall as pleasure consumed him. He groaned as your hand grabbed his ass and dug your nails deep, as if to retaliate for his harsh thrusts.

“Daryl, m’close,” you whispered into his neck, tongue coming out to lick up at the salt coating his tanned skin. “Need you to fill me up, please!”

“Shh, know what you need, honey. Gonna give it to you.” Daryl moaned in tandem with you, hips stuttering as you both neared euphoria.

Your hand on his ass pressed him further into you, and you nearly screamed at the feel of his pubic bone rutting your puffy, needy clit.

“Such a good girl fo’ me,” Daryl groaned, hips speeding up and with the mixture of his cock rubbing that spot deep within you and his pubic bone grinding your clit, you came. Hard. “Fuck.”

The feel of your pussy squeezing him tight sent him over the edge and you both moaned at the feel of him filling you up, hot liquid coating your cunt.

For a few seconds, the only thing that could be heard was gasps for air as you both struggled to recover.

“Fuck,” Daryl said, so low you wouldn’t have heard it if you weren’t wrapped around him like a koala. “So fuckin’ hot.”

You looked between you both to see what had him already half hard and sighed. Both of your orgasms had bubbled out, leaking out of you and onto his base; instead of removing himself from you, Daryl lazily thrusted.

“Sore, Daryl,” you whimpered, tightening your legs around him as you dug your face into the crevice of his neck.

“Sorry, baby. Just so fuckin’ pretty wrapped around me.” Instead of replying, you just nibbled on his neck.

“C’mon, gotta shower.” He didn’t let you down, though, and instead carried you as he walked through your shared home.

“Baby,” Daryl said as he switched the knob for the hot water, leading you into the shower with him.

“Hmm?”

“Wear that dress again.”

#daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl imagines #norman reedus #daryl x reader #daryl smut #smut #twd smut #twd x reader #twd x y/n #twd daryl

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yanxidarlings · 4 months

Note

hello !! I've been really interested in your "not slytherin" writing and i think i have reread it more than 20-ish times hahahah since it's really good and you're the reason why i am invested in all these fan characters (since i didnt see what their appeal was before reading your work).

and now speaking of it, I'm now thinking about a specific "what if?" scenario, and that is; what if the suffering the reader goes through becomes so much to the point it transforms them into an obscurial? they have pretty much oppressed all their emotions, all their negativity, for four years— and it broke them. and the angst would be so good for this. the reader would definitely be more than distrustful. they're afraid that since their name has already been burnt off their own family; they would soon be expelled or even worse taken into the ministry for how dangerous they are to the other students. and this would definitely up the yandere factor to another level. they're aware theyre at fault for most of the reader's suffering, and that a single trigger would cause them to burst but then they can't do a single fucking thing about it or else.

not a request, but it's something ive been thinking about for a long time now !! (I'm really new to the hp fandom and ur writing definitely made me want to read more into them so I'm glad i stumbled upon it suddenly ^^)

dude, broski, broskilenski, ur a wizard of some sort because HOW ELSE COULD YOU READ MY MIND

i was considering making the reader an obscurial (my favourite fanfiction trope by far) but hesitent incase it was too farfetched but I HAVE BEEN GIVEN A SIGN

was sitting on not slytherin aye p2 but this ask has given me the inspiration to write

so without further adieu, with compliments to the other not slytherin p2 ask

jaythes1mp asked:

Could you do a part two of your latest fic (at this time) — YANDERE SLYTHERIN BOYS: NOT SLYTHERIN, AYE?

Where all the sudden suffocating affection they’re showing him after years of tournament makes him leave Hogwarts because he’s so terrified. He knows they couldn’t have changed, since they’re still threatening anyone near him. But once news gets around to them that he’s leaving for good? How would they take the news? And if they learn that he’s been disowned from his family? Would that be a good or bad thing — because now they can’t arrange a marriage. And it would be harder to find him if he got out of their grasps.

Would they be forced to team up? Would they force him into an unbreakable vow or blood pact??

Please do my request, I’ll beg. Just ask, I will actually get on my knees and beg. 🙏🙏🙏🙏

i present

YANDERE SLYTHERIN BOYS: NOT SLYTHERIN, AYE? P2

“remember, you have to do anything to be slytherin, no matter what it takes” draco's words replayed in m/n's head. he'd replayed that sentance so much it had become distorted, is that even what he said m/n thought to himself, watching the train pass by.

under his eyes were bags the size of boulders, he hadn't slept in days. not since..

"excuse me, sir" a voice rung in his head. m/n shook his head, he wanted it all to go away, go away, go away- "mister, i'm gonna have to ask you for ID" somesort of internal wiring within him snapped "GO AWAY" m/n screamed, finally turning to face to the person- man.. muggle police officer, that had been addressing him.

the officer moved back, taking a strange device off his uniform and speaking into it "i'm gonna need back-up, barkley" whilst the man was engaged, m/n made a run for it.

"GET BACK HERE YOUNG MAN" the police officer bellowed, chasing after the teenage boy.

running through, down the subway and onto the train tracks, the officer gave up the pursuit. sooner or later the boy would be run over by an oncoming train in the tunnels.

after running for who knows how long, m/n finally slowed to a walking pace. then he stopped. the sound of a horn filled his ears, the pitch black tunnel illuminated by the vehicles headlights. i

it was getting closer

m/n looked around, there was nowhere to go in the narrow tunnel

closer

tears filled his eyes, but instead of sobbing he began laughing, only to break out into a fit of sobs and then revert back to laughter.

it was too close

suddenly a BANG was heard as the train came to a stop, the tunnel filled with black mist, which had somehow crushed the head of the train.

it was not natural, it was.. dark magic.

• it was on the front page of the daily prophet the next day 'OBSCURIAL SIGHTING IN SOUTH LONDON SUBWAY' obscurials were no common occurance, the last one was reported in the 1930's, new york.

• it wasn't a cured illness, no, the circumstances of it's development had simply become less common. children of all blood status' had access to education in order to facilitate their powers, and there were muggleborn programs across the world to ensure they did not develop one either.

• it had the ministry stumped. there were no leads on the obscurus, nor was a body found to sugget the outburst had caused the hosts death.

• albus dumbledore was no stranger to obscurials, he had lost so much to them, his sister, his nephew — but he knew well what power the host of one held. and the key role one could play in the coming war.

• which is why he had to find the obscurial before the ministry, or lord voldemort did.

"i am not here to hurt you, m/n" the headmaster called out, slowly approaching the young wizard, who's wand was drawn. "what spell do you plan to use, child?" the older man chimed, it was no secret m/n l/n was never the best with applied magic, like he was with potions or magical creatures

m/n's wand arm shook, "petrificus totalus" upon speaking the words, his wand shot out a spell, of which dumbledore blocked. hitting into the ground, the concrete began to degrade.

terrified, m/n dropped his wand, eyes glassy and wide "i didn't- i have to go" he stuttered out

"there are people who will hurt you, who will use you as a weapon" dumbledore moved closer to the boy who was now shaking "i can help, you can help, you don't have to be the monster the obscurus compels you to be" they were now face to face, or beard to cheek, as m/n couldn't break his eyes away from the concrete.

when the boy nodded, the headmaster took his arm, and a loud POP sounded through the air.

the next day, m/n attended breakfast as if he had not been missing for the past two weeks.

the headmaster had given him his own room under the guise of spacing issues, perhaps having an escape would make this year less hellish, or maybe spending too much time alone would exuberate his growing instability.

at least he could kill one of his tormenters without any witnesses now.

a couple people stared at him as he made his way to the great hall, lovegood had even greeted him. albeit she held the quibbler she had with her close to her chest.

"salazar!" he heard a familiar voice exclaim from behind him, arms wrapping around him "where have you been, l/n" he didn't like the way malfoy was looking at him, it was soft "i thought- i thought you had done something stup-"

m/n was quick to shove off malfoys embrace, rather roughly, before turning around to walk away.

he was pulled back, he now saw malfoys eyes were glassy, as if he was about to cry. what a baby, m/n thought, he wasn't listening to whatever bollocks was coming out malfoys mouth, instead he just glared "and i'm sorry if i was the reason-"

"malfoy, just go cry about this to the house elves, they get paid to care i don't"

and with that, m/n was off, ignoring zabini and nott who were staring at him as he shoved past.

• as the days went by, his tormentors wouldn't leave him alone, but they weren't doing what they always had, they were being nice. which scared him even more. perhaps because niceness was so foreign or because he knew it had to be a ploy for their next big trick.

• he wanted to be left alone by them but there was no way out. they held him in chokeholds they called hugs and suffocated him with what they called kisses.

• they sat with him in class and one of them was always partnered up with him, but they just wanted to sabotage his grades, and get him expelled.

• they were no longer hostile towards him but towards each other, whenever one caught him with another, they'd fight each other with wits or fists.

• they dragged him to their dorm every night and drew sticks to decide who he would be stuck with for the night. he never slept those nights, they were just waiting for him to fall asleep so they could do something horrible.

• but he rarely ever slept at all these days, which is what contributed to the paranoia that led him to leaving.

• the only reason he stayed was for headmaster dumbledore, who had been attempting to help him learn to control the obscurus, to no avail. when the headmaster was outcast by the ministry, there was no reason to stay and wait to get caught for what he was.

"do you understand your fault, mr l/n" the sickeningly sweet sound of umbridges voice filled his ears, it was more painful than the cuts inflicted on him by the quill he had been forced to write with.

blood was trickling down to the floor, the words that he had been made to write indecipherable, covered in the blood they had drawn. "i must not disrespect the high inquisitor" he uttered, teeth clenched.

"i don't think you understand, mr l/n, twenty more lines"

he remained still, staring at the blood on the carpet, then at the decorative plates embeded with cats, and then at umbridges face.

"i quit"

"pardon, mr l/n?"

m/n stood up out of his chair, dropping the quill on the floor "i'm leaving hogwarts" he threw his wand on the table he had been forced to maim himself at, before storming out of the room.

• the news soon reached the slytherins that their beloved m/n had left the school, leaving them bewildered.

• when draco tried to find the reader by having his father get in contact with the l/n's, it finally hit them that m/n had been disowned, rendering their previous efforts to keep him useless.

BLAISE ZABINI

• blaise is probably the most crushed. his entire plan involved arranging a marriage with the reader, which was now impossible. but what upsets him more is that m/n never even told him. five months and not one mention of being disowned.

• he's mad at the reader until he comes to know the reason for the reader being disowened - because of all he and the other slytherins had done to make it seem like he was a blood traitor.

• blaise hated himself for being a part of it all, but above all, he hated the other slytherins for starting it all. it was draco's fault they all started tormenting him, it was mattheos fault they took it to the extreme.

DRACO MALFOY

• draco had his suspicions from the moment m/n returned, his father had mentioned in passing about the l/n's and how dissapointed they were in their son. but it usually ended in lucius praising draco for being such a good son, so he had never paid it much mind.

• it was his fault, he knew it. he hated feeling powerless but that's what he felt as his father told him m/n hadn't gone back home. m/n didn't have a home. he could be out there all on his own, exposed to the dangers of the muggle world..

• his obsession only grew after m/n left hogwarts, every moment of every day he wondered where he was, if he was okay, if he was with anyone. if he was with anyone he'd end them.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

• enzo had been told by his parents a few months ago they were unable to arrange a marriage because m/n had been disowned. not that he told anyone else, let them think they have him whilst lorenzo makes m/n fall in love with him.

• except his every advance was met with rejection or hostility. and when m/n left for good he was devastated, how were they supposed to live out their love story now?

• lorenzo confronts the other slytherins when the news m/n had left reached them, which is what led to the realization that they were all sickly obsessed with the ravenclaw.

MATTHEO RIDDLE

• something had been strange about m/n the moment he returned, mattheo saw it in his eyes. whether it was what he had gone through the previous years still haunting him, or something else, mattheo tries to get m/n to talk to him, but he's.. mattheo, who once broke m/n's ribcage from beating him.

• it was impossible to foster any trust no matter what he did. he tries to talk about his own struggles, his cruel father and upbringing. he tries to treat m/n like a porcelain doll, but the walls never go down.

• hell hath no rage like a riddle scorned, mattheo would have killed umbridge if tom hadn't stopped him. but he wasn't done with just her, the l/n's were next on his path of rage, and there was little anyone could do to stop him from inflicting a painful death on them

THEODORE NOTT

• theo could barely handle m/n's reluctance to warm up to him, it took every bit of strength in him not to yell and force m/n into opening up, accepting his affection, but m/n not being there at all? theo goes off the rails.

• he fears the worst, what if.. m/n.. theo thinks to himself every moment he's not thinking about how to get him back. when draco tells him m/n was disowned, he broke down crying in the bathroom when he was alone later.

• the world was not safe for a young wizard with no wand or money. what if the dark lord went after him for being a blood traitor. theo went with mattheo to threaten umbridge, and figure out where m/n would have gone.

TOM RIDDLE

• tom could see all the pain m/n was going through when he used legilimency on him. he saw the abuse, the torment, the self hatred, and he knew what the reader had been through and become.

• he's furious that m/n's own parents would disown him, as if he was disposable. it reminded him too much of his own father. but he puts his emotions aside to focus on what really mattered, finding and keeping m/n.

• tom was the only one who had figured out m/n's condition, and used it to his advantage, telling his father that the reader was the obscurus the ministry had been looking for, making m/n voldemorts new target for capture.

tracking down an obscurial was not as simple as the dark lord had anticipated it to be, which is why he delegated the task to his eldest son who had first hand experience with the boy, m/n l/n.

coming to a stop as the sight of the boy filled tom vision, the young death eater watched as m/n stared down his reflection in the water. tom slowly came closer, wand at the ready, until his own reflection revealed his presence.

"you look horrible" the boy turned to face tom as he spoke "you here to kill me, riddle?" m/n sounded resigned, like he had already accepted it.

but that was not what tom was there for. "the dark lord wants you within his ranks" tom stated, avoiding m/n's dead gaze. "what the dark lord wants does not concern me" m/n took a step back, he was scared, tom could tell.

"are you going to make this difficult for me, m/n?" tom took a step closer, snaking an arm around the males waist.

before m/n had the chance to try and stab him in the eye with his own wand, tom stunned him, knocking him out, as lord voldemort came out of the shadows "well done, son" tom looked down at m/n's unconscious face as they apparated. you'll love me oneday.

• the readers condition certainly complicates things for the slytherins, it's no longer simply just subjugate him whether he likes it or not, the readers stability is the difference between life or death, freedom or azkaban for them.

• he becomes the dark lords puppet project, a weapon to use against the order of the phoenix and a tool to keep the future of the death eaters loyal.

• he never returns to hogwarts, tom made sure he was outted as the obscurial so that he'd never have anywhere to run, everywhere he could go he would be seen as a threat, a monster.

• an all-out war breaks out bewteen the slytherins once they have the reader in their grasp again. no one is willing to relent, m/n belongs to them. not the others, them.

• the slytherins would slowly come to the realisation there was no single 'winner', none of them could ever have a normal life with him now the dark lord was back and he had developed an obscurus.

• instead the focus would switch into keeping m/n safe, from voldemort, from himself, from the ministry, from everything.

TOM RIDDLE

• out of all of them, tom can handle m/n's obscurus the best. mostly because he's level headed enough not to set him off. sure he has some sadistic tendencies but at the cost of his own, and surrounding lives?

• tom's obsession was exuberated by the obscurus, it made his darling all the more appealing. to hold such power over someone so powerful is what drives him to sometimes provoke the obscurus, to see what potential m/n truly holds.

• sometimes he goes to far and gets someone or himself seriously injured. he wants to help his darling learn to control the obscurus, but it's hard to acheive when he himself also wants to control his darling.

THEODORE NOTT

• theo is frankly horrified when he finds out m/n had developed an obscurus. he had only ever heard stories about obscurials dying young, after an outburst they can't control.

• he wonders how long m/n had suffered with it for. in the back of his mind, he hopes it was before hogwarts, or else he truly was an absolute piece of shit, to help torment the one he loves most into such a despairful illness.

• theo spends the time he's not with his darling searching through the old pureblood libraries for even a hint of a cure. he wanted to be with his darling forever, but the oldest obscurial only ever lived until 23. theo won't stop until he can figure out how to get rid of the obscurus.

MATTHEO RIDDLE

• mattheo knows he's most likely the reason, above all the other slytherins, for the readers affliction. he was the one who chased him into dark hallways and used the torture curse, the one who said the nastiest things, the one who went the furthest with the torment.

• he wishes he could take all his darlings pain away. because one wrong word, one accidental touch, could send him over the edge. a world without his darling is what scares him the most, above everything fucked up in the wizarding world.

• so he treats m/n like a single bump would shatter him. it's difficult, mattheo isn't exactly the super soft type, but he tries, he knows if any of the slytherins caught m/n looking upset around him they'd end him.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

• enzo underestimates the readers condition, until he finally see's it for himself one day when snape had called m/n a freak, and he exploded. safe to say, it terrified enzo.

• he's under the impression that if he loves m/n enough, the obscurus will go away. deep down he knows it won't, but it helps him justify the heap of affection he doses his darling in. his heart breaks when he's pushed away and he knows pushing back could result in the worst.

• lorenzo is the readers number one caretaker. he always reminds them to eat and get sleep and not to stress about anything. he tries to treat them as normally as possible but it gets difficult when the obscurus mentality kicks in and m/n starts talking about killing them all.

DRACO MALFOY

• draco isn't quite sure how to approach his dear darling after finding out he's an obscurial. draco is overcome with guilt for the hand he had in it, and abominably frustrated he can't just force the reader into doing what he wants.

• when he becomes a death eater he begins to fear for his darlings safety, he hears what the dark lord says about his plans including m/n, and it scares him. there's no regard for m/n's safety or survival, the dark lords only goal is to set m/n off when he takes hogwarts for a quick and easy victory.

• draco tries to get closer to m/n by playing the dependent rich boy, who doesn't know how to do anything for himself. draco figures that if m/n starts to feel responsible for him, it'll be harder for him to leave or say no.

BLAISE ZABINI

• blaises mother told him to stay far away from m/n when she found out. if it were anyone else he would take her advice, but this was his darling, and he could never abandon him over a small imperfection.

• he's the easiest to be around among them all, he doesn't feel the need to always been touching or talking to the reader which is usually what sets him off.

• blaise tries to help m/n settle back into normal life (normal meaning non socially isolated endlessly tormented), but years of torment has taken it's toll in more ways than one. sometimes m/n will accuse blaise and the others of the strangest things, but they all have to take it in stride, or else risk an outburst.

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xxkissesforchanniexx · 10 days

Note

Hi sweetie!

How are you? Hope school and everything is going well. Congrats on your exam! I know you'll do great on all the others bc I just have that much faith 😌

I saw your little schedule and saw upcoming Hyune and Jisung fics wich sound amazing just by the title. So now I'm super excited for those!!

Just a little idea for you... But I have an unhealthy obsession with perv Seung. The perv Jisung headcanons made me think you might be open to writing this. Something about perv Seungmin just hits harder than it does for any other member (for me at least). I was thinking about being in a relationship with him and his perv tendencies start peeping through...then one day you catch him using like your underwear or another one of your items to get off and you just go along with it (bc y/n crazy like that) 😭

If you just wanna chat, feel free to ignore my request when (and if) you reply to this. I'm totally cool with just being friendly and talking. I'm on Tumblr for the community after all 🤷‍♀️

You're fics make me feel some type way everytime I read them no matter how many times I read them and I super appreciate you! Love you 🤟

-🐺🐺🐺🩷🩷🩷

OF COURSE I CAN TAKE YOUR REQUEST I FEAR NO CHALLENGE

(i can actually see this with Seungmin tho~)

Pervy boyfriend Seungmin x fem reader Headcannons

into smutfic >.>

SFW + NSFW (idol Seungmin, UNDERWEAR STEALER?!?!, someone sedate me-, sweet Seungminnie very breiefly..., unprotected sex wrap it before you tap it lovies., seungmo is not slick, lil bit of sweet bullying >.>, seungmin will never be stopped.)

someone tach me how to do the side by side pics thing. it never works..

Boyfriend Seungmin who spoiled you when he wasn't busy. He wasn't perfectly affectionate, bullying you all the time, but it was his way of loving on you.

Boyfriend Seungmin who called you stupid names when you had silly arguments (nothing serious really).

Boyfriend Seungmin who would brag to STAY about how amazing you were.

Boyfriend Seungmin who would check your location constantly when you went out. For one because he was worried about you. And for two because...

Pervy Boyfriend Seungmin stole your panties again.

Pervy Boyfriend Seungmin who was for once scared you might catch him.

Pervy Boyfriend Seungmin who would take your bras with him on tour and jerk off to the thought of you. Inhaling your scent from the panties he'd oh so rightfully stolen.

Pervy Boyfriend Seungmin who fucked into the mattress when you sent him pictures of you while he was away.

Pervy Boyfriend Seungmin who imagined you under him when you squealed on the phone about something. Oh, he'd give you a reason to squeal.

Boyfriend Seungmin who promised you he'd be home soon.

Boyfriend Seungmin who hugged you in the airport, acting calm and collected when really...

Pervy Boyfriend Seungmin wanted nothing more than to bend you over and make you take his manhood. But knew that you wouldn't like doing such a thing in public... or maybe you would (maybe he should make you at some point)

Pervy Boyfriend Seungmin who didn't wait to put his bags down when you got home and to your bedroom. Pulling your pants and panties off with such force it shocked him, fucking you like his life depended on it. maybe it did.

Pervy Boyfriend Seungmin who seemed to get harder when you moaned at how rough he was being with you.

Pervy Boyfriend Sungmin who asked begged you to let him cum inside. Who let out soft whimpers when you climaxed together.

Pervy Boyfriend Seungmin who wanted to be sweet to you after you did so well for him, but who's dick came back to life at the sight of your pretty pussy oozing his seed.

Pervy Boyfriend Seungmin who encouraged you to go out and have fun with your friends, just to stay home and bury his face in you cum covered panties from the night before.

Pervy Boyfriend Seungmin who was in the middle of jerking off to a voice message you'd sent him when you walked in because you forgot your wallet. Who's face burned pink as you made him feel vulnerable... embarrassed...

Pervy Boyfriend Seungmin who wasn't going to let you get away with that...

He hadn't intended it to go like this.. but he wasn't going to complain as you bounced on his cock, rocking you hips into his own, moaning softly.

Seungmin groaned and gripped your hips, thrusting up into you.

"You're such a weirdo." You moaned.

He looked at you with an incredulous expression, "I'm the weirdo? You see me with your used panties in my face and the first thing you do is jump on my dick."

Your face went redder if that was even possible. Seungmin leaned over, pushing you onto your back and fucking into you. "Then again, I'll take this pretty pussy over just your underwear any day."

You whined, "At least stop stealing my favorite bra."

He smiled as he reached between your legs and rubbed your clit. "How about no?"

You wanted to say something more but he forced the air out of your lungs as he slammed deep into you. His tip kissed your cervix before he came hard, pushing you over the edge with him and whining as your pussy squeezed him tightly, milking him dry.

Pervy Boyfriend Seungmin who kept your panties before sending you back out again.