#5 times they fought and 1 time they didn’t

[drakaripykiros130ac]

Rhaenyra was rejected by her own throne. Her own dragron abandons her. The smallfolk loathed her, even the Lords that once supported her claim rescinded their own alliance to her cause. She may have had a rightful claim, but was never a deserving or worthy one.

1. It’s a throne made out of sword blades. Spare me the theatrics. Her getting cut is pure gossip, nevertheless, and the way it was written in the book leads to much speculation (She wears armor and gets cut?? Huh??) The maesters would say anything against her.

2. Her dragon abandoned her? And that happened when…in your dreams, maybe? Syrax never abandoned her. She was fighting for her life because fanatics thought that the answer to all their problems was the murder of innocent creatures held in chains.

3. The smallfolk loathed the Greens (particularly Aegon and Aemond) and they cheered when Rhaenyra took King’s Landing. What they grew to loathe was their situation. The Greens impoverished the Realm and Rhaenyra was left to clean up the mess and the suffer the consequences. The smallfolk’s anger should have been directed at the people who started the war (the Greens). But they didn’t care about that. Whoever was sitting the throne at the time had to pay the price, and unfortunately, it was Rhaenyra.

4. The lords rescinded their alliance…what? Have you actually read the book or are you only skipping to the parts that interest you?

She never lost support. Her lords fought for her cause even after her death, and won. Reread the Battle of the Kingsroad, the final battle of the Dance which cost Aegon the throne, and granted the Blacks victory.

5. At least you admit that she is the rightful ruler. As for being “worthy”, that is a strange choice of word to use for a woman who had to fight for her rightful claim, and was put in very unfortunate and undeserving positions. Rhaenyra was never given a clear shot at being a ruler, so you cannot judge her capabilities. When she took the Iron Throne, the coffers were empty and she still had a war to deal with, not to mention tired and hungry smallfolk.

What is clear is that she had far more experience in governing than her half-brother.

By comparison, the Greens had a disabled and incapable ruler who drank and spent time harassing women, a mad woman for a queen and a psychopath on the biggest dragon threatening to burn everything in his path. Not to mention a greedy queen mother who only cared about advancing her own House.

Seriously. Read the book.

#I don’t even know why I bother but just needed something to pass the time #Example of a stan who skims the pages of a book and looks only to what interests him #team black #pro team black #rhaenyra targaryen #pro rhaenyra targaryen #anti team green #anti team green stans #asoiaf #queen rhaenyra #asoiaf meta #anti alicent hightower #anti alicent stans #anti aegon ii targaryen #anti helaena targaryen #anti aemond targaryen #the dragon queen #the blacks #the dance of the dragons #fire and blood

[maglorslostsilmaril]

5 Times the House of Finwe Fought and 1 Time They Didn’t

read on ao3 here

Looking back, Nolofinwe wasn’t surprised at how quickly their nice family dinner had gone downhill. It was one of those rare nights his elder brother would leave his room or the forge to dine with the rest of the family, and, as always, he’d tried to remain stubbornly hopeful that maybe, just this once, they could get through one meal without conflict.

Alas.

It had started out alright, at least. Feanaro had stalked into the room just as the salad plates were set upon the table, looking slightly less thunderous than normal as he took his usual spot to the right of their father. The candles along the table flickered happily, and the fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow about the room. Not one scathing word was shared as the soups and salads were served and then taken back to the kitchen, only quiet conversation between his father and older brother, and Nolofinwe had felt his mood begin to rise.

Feanaro had been kind to him and his siblings when he was younger; it was only once Nolofinwe had begun to mature that he’d begun to find himself on the receiving end of his bitter words. Despite the mistreatment from Feanaro the past few years though, Nolofinwe was still eager to rebuild the relationship he’d once had with his brother. He wasn’t even sure what had changed between them, to be honest.

At that time, the main meal was brought out. Roasted pheasant, potatoes and greens, Arafinwe’s favorite. Across the table, his little brother clapped happily when he saw the food placed in front of him, already portioned by the chef so that his small, clumsy hands would not have to handle a knife. Out of the corner of his eye, Nolofinwe thought he saw Feanaro smile fondly at their little brother’s excitement, but the expression was gone so fast he wasn’t sure whether it was just wishful thinking.

“So, Curufinwe, I’ve heard that you plan to travel to Mahtan’s halls when you come of age in the next years?” Indis said politely a few moments later. Nolofinwe paused momentarily, and he felt his sisters do the same. It always came down to something small, whether or not their dinners would end in disaster. Finwe gave his eldest a warning look, but to Nolofinwe’s surprise, Feanaro did not seem inclined at all to send a scathing remark back at his stepmother. In fact, it almost seemed like the constant dark look on his face brightened slightly.

“I do.” He replied. There was a hint of pride in his voice, and the beginnings of a smile on his face, a rare occurrence in the presence of his stepmother. Findis visibly relaxed from where she sat between Nolofinwe and Feanaro, blonde curls bouncing merrily. “I’ve become, ah, acquainted with his daughter Nerdanel; she assures me that I would feel most welcome there.”

“Well, that’s just wonderful.” Indis smiled. Nolofinwe was shocked to see Feanaro nearly smile back at her. Maybe this family dinner would end alright after all.

“I agree!” Finwe said, beaming with pride. Whether it was for his eldest’s accomplishments or his lack of biting words towards his wife, Nolofinwe couldn’t tell. “In fact, Feanaro, I truly think-”

There was a sharp hiss of pain when Finwe reached out to lay a hand on his eldest son’s forearm, and their father frowned and recoiled immediately. “Naro, are you alright?”

“Fine,” his brother gritted out, face darkening once more. “Merely a burn from the forge.”

“Are you sure?” Nolofinwe’s mother asked worriedly, making to stand from her seat at Finwe’s left. “A burn is not an injury to take lightly. Surely we could find someone to rebandage-”

“I said it’s fine!” Feanaro snapped, pushing away from his seat. The chair toppled to the floor behind him with a loud crash. His sisters stiffened, and little Arafinwe’s lower lip wobbled dangerously.

“Naro, please,” Finwe pleaded, an anxious look on his face. Feanaro’s face only grew stormier as he clutched his injured forearm to his chest. “She was just trying to-”

“I don’t care what she wants!” his older brother exclaimed. “I said it’s fine, do you not trust me? I don’t need her trying to mother me! I already have one, in case you’ve forgotten!” Findis winced beside him, and Nolofinwe felt himself to do the same. It always came down to that, didn’t it? No matter what his mother tried, his half-brother would never see her as anything but a mal-intended replacement for Miriel.

“That’s not very nice!” Irime piped up from across the table. She was growing bolder every day, and Nolofinwe was proud of her for that, but it appeared self-preservation was not accompanying it. No, Feanaro would never hurt one of his siblings. He just feared that Lalwen would lose her love for him should she never see any side of him but his fierce, unrelenting anger. Miriel had named her son well.

Thankfully, Feanaro said nothing, only stalking out of the hall. His footsteps echoed through the hallways as the rest of the family sat in uncomfortable silence.

Later, Nolofinwe walked past his brother’s room on the way to his own, only to find Feanaro’s door cracked and his father’s voice coming from inside. Curiosity overtook him. He paused on the other side of the door and stood as still as he could, trying not to breathe.

“You know that it’s cruel to treat your stepmother in such a way, do you not, Naro?” His father said. Nolofinwe could almost picture him seated next to Feanaro on his brother’s bed, arm wrapped across his shoulders.

“Yes, Atar,” Feanaro mumbled back. His voice sounded strangely wet, like he’d been crying. “You won’t believe me if I say I’ve been trying. I just get so angry and not even at her. It’s just that every time I see her I’m reminded of what I don’t have. Her and the rest of them are just reminders that Amme isn’t coming back. I can’t get close to them. Not when they’re only here because Amme isn’t.”

Nolofinwe huffed, stepping away from the door and continuing down the hallway. If that was how Feanaro felt, then fine. He’d stop trying to win the love and approval of one who refused to even think about giving it to him. Tears pricked at his eyes, but he scrubbed them away. His older brother wasn’t worth this sorrow.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #my writing #tolkien fanfiction #silmarillion fanfiction #house of finwe #finweans #feanor #finwe #indis #fingolfin #finarfin #findis #irime #sons of finwe #5 times they fought and 1 time they didn’t #5 + 1 fic #5 + 1 things

[unfortunatelyilikebnha]

[ID: a screenshot of a Genshin party containing Xingqiu (Lv. 60), Chongyun (Lv. 20), Shenhe (Lv. 50), and Xiao (Lv. 70). It is labeled “Family reunion :) ”. End ID.]

Got chongyun randomly off standard and decided to make this team that I will probably not even use just bc I think their interactions would be funny 🥰

#this is unofficially (didn’t have enough space) called the ‘hey auntie meet my boyfriend whom you hate :)’ team #based off shenhes seeming distrust for/dislike of xingqiu lmao #and xiao’s there 1) bc I love him #2) bc I needed someone who’d make sense with the team (knows shenhe thru the adepti & chongyun through his status as an exorcist) #and 3) bc i thought it would be funny bc he’d definitely hate the energy I created in the studio today (I.e. this team) #also if I ever DO use this team I at least put a little bit of work into building him #(not that I’m Good At building characters and really I only have half the recommended artifact set on him #but he regularly does 2-5k which is good enough for me tbh) #(I am Not Good At This Game) #genshin impact #(I prefer to think abt how my silly little characters would interact rather than actually figuring out how to make them fight good) #(though it would be nice if they fought good. anyways.) #anyways if cloud retainer was playable I’d probably put ger here instead of xiao bc I feel like she’d make the team dynamic even funnier #I feel like she’d either distrust/dislike Xingqiu as well and be like Chongyun Why Do You Hang Out With This Boy #or she’d love xingqiu and poor shenhe would have to hear ‘one thinks you should give this boy a chance’ like 5 times a week LMAO #anyways I like thinking silly thoughts abt how the characters would interact sorry lol I think they’re neat

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]

As someone who lived in the middle of nowhere, Amity, the ocean both terrified and enthralled Danny Fenton.

The first time his parents took him to the beach, it was the middle of the day and he’d been stuck in the prototype GAV for hours upon hours on their “quick, ghost rumor hunting field trip.”

It wasn’t quick, and they caught exactly zero ghosts. When Danny saw the expanse of sand underneath the summer sun, he and Jazz both bounded out of the van like feral little monkeys. Danny and Jazz sprinted down the sand, their parents ambling behind them with their arms loaded up with towels, a first aid kit, and an ungodly amount of mildly ecto contaminated food that they already fought before getting onto the beach.

Danny had splashed into the water, yelped at the freezing temperature, and then promptly found a shell to keep. His mom taught him how to swim with the waves, having come from Surf City herself, and his dad taught Jazz how to dive.

It was a day full of fond memories, especially the memory of the Great War of Sand-Castle Crushing he and Jazz waged against each other.

They stuck around for the sunset, the ripples of colors and peacefulness that swept across the vast waters caught Danny in its hold.

He hadn’t forgotten that moment. Not even when he died.

After a particularly hard day as Phantom, Danny would fly to the coast and loose hours just sitting on the sand and watching the waves lap against the shore. And when those nights were clear? It felt like a slice of his own personal heaven, with the stars shining on his shoulders and the encompassing crash of the waves sheltering his heart.

And on some days, when being Danny left him frustrated, Danny would fly out to the coast and use his intangibility to walk beneath the waves. Near the coast, it’s cloudy with swirls of moving sand and disturbed waters. He walked, and walked, and floated and floated beneath the waters, taking contentment from the way the moonlight of his stars filtered through the water. He admired the way light would glint on the scales of fish and crustaceans alike as he floated beneath the surface. On those days, Danny would pick up trash and polluted things and bring them to shore, to place in the trash cans and all of the recycling cans. He picked up shells and decorated the beaches he frequented, because if it were decorated, perhaps people would refrain from chucking their waste into the sea.

Well, usually, it’d be trash.

Danny watched speechlessly, jaw cracked open just a smidge, as an explosion happened right over his head. The distortion of the water did not hide the fact that there were large chunks of plane pelting down at him, a different figure flying away from the explosion. Danny went invisible and intangible as large metal pieces plunged into his current water space.

“Gosh, people these days,” he huffed. “This is gonna take forever to…”

Danny trailed off, seeing a humanoid shape crash into the water, clearly unconscious. Danny didn’t hesitate before shooting towards the drowning person, glowing green and fully visible again. The stranger’s eyes- holy shit, that’s Batman- turned towards him before closing behind cracked open lenses. Batman slumped falling unconscious. That’s not good.

Danny rocketed out of the water with the vigilante in his arms. If it weren’t for his supernatural strength, there’s no way lanky teenage Danny would have been able to carry Batman’s grown ass built like a tank self to the shore. Likewise, if it weren’t for his strength, Danny wouldn’t have been able to start chest compressions through the layers of armor.

Danny leaned back with a sigh as Batman coughed out only a bit of water, because Danny hadn’t taken all that long to get to him, and held up his hands in a “I don’t have weapons” way as Batman whirled to him.

“Hi. Are you alright?” Danny asked, ectoplasm and instinctive ghost speak fuzzing his words a bit. Damn, Batman must have nearly died a lot. He’ll freak out about meeting Batman later.

“You saved me,” an awkward pause. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. The other guy went that way.”

Danny waved vaguely.

“…What are you?”

“Oh my god, Batman, you can’t just ask someone what they are!” He immediately replied, inwardly smacking himself for the joke. He watched Batman’s face, watching for any sign of discrimination against ghosts, or any sign the man had a sense of humor.

“…”

Neither, apparently, was the answer.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just here to clean up the beaches. You humans really like to pollute the beaches. It’s quite rude, you know. That plane of yours, well, it’s not your fault,” he amended. “But it’s gonna damage sea life. And I don’t know if you’re in the habit, but please don’t litter on the beach or in the water, especially with your unconscious body. It’s tedious to clean.”

“…I see.”

“Stay. I’ll take out your plane. Make sure it doesn’t stay on the sand, alright?”

With that, Danny stood. Unaware of the way the moonlight lit up his hair like white flames and accentuated the sharp points of his ears, Danny turned away and flew back to the plane site, dragging the pieces up with ease.

Batman sat on the sand, likely exhausted from his fight, and watched him carry the pieces of the aircraft up.

“Here. All done. I gotta get going,” because Danny has school and this just lost him two hours. “Will you be alright?”

Batman nodded once, sharply.

“Good.” Danny went invisible, watching Batman sat up straighter, glancing around in a suddenly visible awareness. Oh, well. Tucker’s gonna freak out.

——

Three years later, Danny’s moved to Gotham for university.

And after midterm season, Danny went for a ghostly walk, but this time, in the waters surrounding Gotham.

When he surfaced, Batman was crouching on a lamp post, waiting for him.

“Oh, it’s you,” Danny said. “Hello. Did you know that people are polluting these waters with bodies too?”

“Yes,” Batman said, graveled voice resounding on the shipping containers around them.

“You should do something about that. Do you like places that are polluted?”

Batman sighed. “What are you?”

Danny hears a small, tinny voice by Batman’s ear, coming from a comm.

“Oh my god, B, you can’t just ask someone what they are!”

Mind flashing back to the night Danny drug a waterlogged Batman out of the ocean, Danny cracked a smile.

“Phantom,” he said, decisively. And, because this isn’t Amity anymore, “the Beach Clean Up crew from the flip side.”

——

Bruce, waking up on the sand: wtf

Bruce, seeing a child next to him who probably saved him: wtf (in “adoption”)

Bruce, seeing Danny’s skin glitter like stars, hair aflame, and pointy ears: wtf (in “I can adopt fae folk, right?”)

Bruce, seeing that Danny doesn’t leave any footprints: wtffff (detective mind goes brrrr)

——

Bruce, after Danny leaves: *donates 20 mil towards beach clean up efforts and anti-pollution causes*

——

Bruce’s Goggle Search History, documented by Oracle:

Sea spirits

Sea vampires

How to parent supernatural kids

How to thank your sea child

Are shells a good gift?

Ocean conservation efforts

Sea spirits that glitters under moonlight

Sea spirits that cleans up beaches

Wayne corporation waste disposal

Companies that dump trash into the sea

*outgoing call to Lucius Fox*

What is “mean girls”

——

Bruce, learning “current pop culture” from his kids:

Bruce, remembering the kid who saved him and realizing he’s probably as old as his own kids are: *adoption tendencies intensifies*

#batman #danny phantom #dc x dp #Danny picks Batman up like a waterlogged shoe #like this isn’t supposed to be in the sea #I live near a beach #please do not litter on a beach #I saw someone leave one of those plastic mesh bags for oranges and a seagul got stuck in it #beaches are precious #fight me #bamf danny phantom #bruce wayne #Bruce Wayne: I’ve seen a sea spirit #Danny Fenton: Batman is littering on the beach with his plane #dc x dp crossover #oracle #oh my god Batman you can’t just ask someone what they are #sea cryptic! danny AU

[tojikai]

Sundered 5: QUARRELS

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Part 1  |  Part 2   | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 …+

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, explicit smut, arguments, implied noncon

word count: 6.8k

This is close enough for a beggar like him.

“When Yui turns three…” Satoru turns to look at you with a small smile and a look in his eyes that you know too well not to understand at a glance. “When Yui turns three?” You urged him to continue, “...we make another one. Hopefully, a baby boy.” He pulled you on top of him as you laughed fondly.

“I can’t even count on my fingers how many times you said that already.” You giggled, kissing his blushing face. “I can’t have you forgetting. It’s a must. We make cute babies.” He spoke each sentence in between pecks. “ Yeah, but she’s only 5 months old, Satoru.” You put your head on his chest, feeling him caress your hair.

“I know, but I wanna tell you in advance.” Moments like this make you forget about all the problems and fights that you have with him. “But we’re gonna get married first, of course.” You looked up at him, watching his eyes glimmer. “You’re asking me to marry you?” You poked his side.

“Of course, what else am I gonna do with you?” He flips you over, kissing your neck and chest before attempting to pull the straps of your nighties down your shoulders. “This is for your daughter, don’t even try.” You pointed a finger at his nose as he pouted, “She’s asleep. Can’t I get a sip?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you making you giggle.

“What is going on with you?” He kissed your lips, joining you in your joy. Just two days ago, you and Satoru were screaming at each other’s faces because of how he got angry at you for talking back to his mother. She came into his house, trying to fight you because you got Yui’s ears pierced. You and Satoru agreed on it, but he didn’t like that you ‘talked back’ to his mom.

And now, it’s all gone. Washed away by his touches. Drowned away by his kisses and moans. “Remember when we did this while you were pregnant?” You could hear his smirk as he nibbled on your skin. You're now lying sideways with your hand holding one of your legs up. His strong arms were wrapped around your waist, caressing your lower stomach.

“Gonna put another one here in a few years.” He grunted when you reached for his hair, pressing him closer to you. “Satoru…” His breath on the shell of your ear only made you heat up more. You sobbed as his thrust got faster and harder. “Yeah, you want that.” He bit your ear lightly as you arched your back, whimpering.

You were just about to tell him that you’re close but Satoru got your body memorized. His hand was already trailing down to your womanhood, fingers rubbing on your nub as he coaxed you to your climax and followed shortly after. He finished inside you with your name flowing smoothly out of his lips. You stayed in the same position; with him still inside you as he pushed your legs together.

It was only one of those nights that made you believe that you’d be together until the end.

“...a new one?” Satoru’s voice snapped you back to reality. “Hm?” You turned to him, seeing that he was already staring at you. Yesterday, you and Toji fought. And today, you did again. Is the honeymoon phase they were saying already over? You gritted your teeth. “Are you still thinking about it?” Satoru’s voice was laced with concern as he drove.

Yesterday afternoon, you and Toji were talking about how much louder it gets when there are more kids around. Other than Yuuji, a little girl from their neighborhood named Nobara also joined—a name Yui cannot pronounce correctly but kept saying anyway. 

With four children running around the house, you and Toji could only communicate with eyes, teasing like a married couple planning for an addition. You two could only joke around the topic, though, knowing how serious and how big a responsibility it will be. 

Besides, your relationship is still young and you would like to get married first before taking a step like that. But marriage still feels pretty far for you and Toji.  

“Look, I’m sure he doesn’t mean it like that.” Satoru tried to comfort you. “His wife used to do that stuff and now he’s just sharing it with you.” He explained. You can’t help but feel like you were being petty. The kids had a playdate and you thought that making a bit of juice for their picnic would give them a better experience.

Toji started randomly talking about how his wife had little cousins and she refused to give them juice until they were 5 because it’s terrible for toddlers’ health. And though, you understand this, the way he said it just put you off. You felt like he was comparing you to her and you just didn’t like the way it made you feel. 

Before, there were times when he would mindlessly say that his wife introduced something to him or taught him to do something and you would think that he was probably just reminiscing. But now you just felt…sensitive. It just felt like you still had to compete even if there was no one to compete with.

“He’s probably just suggesting.” Satoru tried to explain for Toji, something you didn’t think would ever happen because they’re almost always wordless around one another. “Suggesting what? That I should do what his first wife did? And today he got upset that Yui and I would leave early to go with you.” Satoru sighed, nodding slowly.

Ever since that night, he’s been a lot more calm, more patient, and more careful with everything he does. “We should’ve canceled and moved it another day.” You looked at him, disbelief flashing on your face.

“Y/N, he’s your boyfriend now. It’s not good to leave a fight without talking first, even just for reassurance.” Whatever he’s been learning at counseling is definitely working, you thought. When he first told you about it, you didn't know how to react. Probably because you know that the cause of your problems is not just him. But also his mother.

“I told him we’ll talk later. He just doesn’t like that we have to spend time around each other like this.” Your voice was quieter. To be honest, you don’t know how to deal with that because it concerns your daughter too. “We can…we can just reduce times like this to milestones like birthdays and school events when she’s finally in school,” Satoru spoke, clearing his throat.

“I don’t think it’s that important anyway, Yui will understand that we’re separated soon. She’s growing fast.” You glanced at your daughter as she waves at the passing cars. Satoru’s right. “Yeah, I’ll just…I’ll talk to him about it.” Satoru probably doesn’t want it like that, but nowadays, he’s been…different. In a good way.

“By the way, I have a…my previous car. Do you remember? The one before this.” He asked, “Your car always breaks down. I mean…You can have it. So, you won’t have to take a cab when you take Yui to daycare, go to work, or pick her up from my place.” You can tell that he was nervous to ask you about it.

“Actually, if you want. I can ask Toji, so he won’t think of it as anything.” You looked away, thinking. You’re not the only one who has a significant other here; Naomi might think of it as something too. “You have to tell Naomi too.” You glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “Yeah…” He cleared his throat. 

Silence enveloped the three of you for several minutes until Satoru spoke again. “My counselor said it’s easy to mistake comfort for love.” Taking a deep breath, you chose your words carefully. “You can learn to love people and things.” There was a long pause along as you reached his house.  You checked on Yui to find out that she fell asleep.

“That sounds like resignation, Y/N. Love doesn’t need conditions.”  He mumbled, looking at his lap. “Let’s go, she’s getting uncomfortable.” You took Yui’s things before following him inside his house. “Don’t forget her vitamins, Satoru.” Humming, he opened the door for you with your sleeping daughter in his arms. 

To his surprise, the lights were on and there, his mother and Naomi sat on his couch.

“You took so long. Did you forget about your girlfriend?” His mother was the first to speak. “Why are you here, Mom? You’re early, Naomi.” Naomi glanced at you with a look on her face that you can’t quite read. There’s nothing sinister about it, in fact, she looked nervous.

“She’s early because she won’t be working full days anymore.” You stood there awkwardly, feeling invisible before Satoru took a step closer to you, “Since she’ll be a part of the family soon, I asked your father if he can take it easy on her workload. Lovers should spend time with each other as much as they can.” His mother continues, emphasizing the word ‘family’ as she gave a mocking glance your way.

She never once considered you as one. Not that you want to be related in any way to someone like her. You scoffed inside your head, seeing Satoru glance at you. “We do spend enough time together.” He spoke, “And why are you deciding for her, Mom?” He took the bags in your hand, “Let’s go to Yui's room.” 

“It’s okay, I won’t be staying for long anyway, I just wanted to drop her off.” After taking Yui to an inflatable indoor park, Satoru bought her a Hello Kitty cake just as you were about to go home. The kid was excited to open the cake with you, but you were reluctant because you don’t really want to be around Naomi. After being assured by Satoru that Naomi wasn’t supposed to come over until Friday, you finally agreed.

You should’ve trusted your gut, because here she is with Satoru’s mom, like a cherry on top.

“I’ll take you home, let’s just put her to bed, then we’ll go.” The child stirred in her sleep, adjusting her head on his shoulder, “Mama, cake.” She murmured, probably dreaming about her food. You looked at Satoru, catching him already staring at you and something tells you it’s gonna be alright even with these two people who seemingly want you out of your own daughter’s life.

“We’ll talk later,” Satoru spoke to them, gently nudging you toward your daughter’s room. “There’s literally nothing to talk about, son. We just wanted to make the two of you more free for each other. Can’t have others hogging all of your attention from your lover. She won’t appreciate that. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” You paused, glancing at Satoru.

“With your new boyfriend, doesn’t it irritate you when he uses his time for other things?” You can tell that his mother is trying to elicit a reaction from you. “The only thing my boyfriend does other than work is take care of his son.  And I will never put myself in between them.” Before his mother could even say anything, Satoru quickly took the stage.

“I said later, Mom. Naomi and I will talk. It’s our relationship.” With that, he walked with you into Yui’s room, closing the door behind him, careful not to wake his daughter up. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t think they’d be here.” You took Yui’s shoes and jacket off, before letting Satoru put her down. “I know, it’s okay.” Kissing Yui’s forehead, you could hear him whisper curse words.

“Hey.” You can tell he’s more than upset. This is probably more painful and exhausting to him than you thought. “I don’t know anymore, Y/N.” He turned away from you, running his hand over his face, “This. This is what’s making my life harder.” He gestured towards the door, referring to his mother. “This is what made our life harder.” You caught him saying as he shook his head.

“Just talk to them. Maybe there's a reason for this. She’s just naturally hostile with me.” You shrugged, knowing that he was speaking the truth. “That’s the point. She’s pointlessly hostile and she thinks she can decide for me.” Turning to you, there was redness in his eyes. 

Satoru didn’t want to seem like he was asking you for comfort. He refused to give you that before, he’d be shameless if he wanted you to hold him. “Let’s go. I’ll explain to Yui, we’ll call you later.” Blinking hard before opening the door, Satoru knows better than to allow his mother near you. You never told him but he knows that she slapped you when she came to your house.

They fought about it when he went to their mansion. Thankfully, his father backed him up with a speech about protective orders which shut her down. It pained him to be like that to his mom but he can’t just have her abusing you just because she can. 

Satoru walked beside you, covering you from his mother. “Satoru…” Naomi called out but his mother quickly spoke, “Doesn’t she have a car? Did it break down again? Ah, like before, when she wanted someone to take her home.” There was no hint of amusement in Naomi’s eyes, probably clueless as to what she was talking about. 

“I’m calling Dad to pick you up.” With that, he continued walking, leaving his mother with an angry look on her face. “That’d be good. He will be here to discuss things since he’s her boss. He might even give her a vacation. You and Naomi can go out of the country. Get close, plan things like marriage, children—” Stopping in his tracks, Satoru turned with his jaws clenched. 

“You know what? Maybe I shouldn’t leave my daughter here. After all, you threatened to take her away.” Walking back to Yui’s room, Satoru didn’t think twice as he grabbed your hand, making Naomi tense up. “Can she stay with you tonight? I’ll get her tomorrow.” He murmured, breathing hard as he picked his daughter up again.

“You think I’ll kidnap my own granddaughter, look what she’s making you think.” You can hear his mom as you rush to take Yui’s things. Whining, Yui covered her ears as Satoru walked her out of the room with you beside him. “I don’t need to kidnap Yui to get her away, her own mother isn’t even capable, what makes you think—” Satoru cut her off when he stood in front of her.

“I’m filing a restraining order.” He spoke, voice low as he tried to stay respectful despite what he was saying, “Against you.” His mother’s eyes widened in surprise, “Come on.” Ushering you out, and leaving his mother stunned. Opening the door for you, he then proceeded to fix his daughter in her car seat.

“Mama why?” You shushed her, caressing her hair, “We’ll eat cake at home.” You smiled at her, trying your best not to sound panicked before closing the door to finally get in the car. Satoru was about to get in the driver’s seat but Naomi came out of the house and ran to him. Glancing at you, she held his hand, “We’ll talk about it later.” He told her, checking if his mother followed. 

“Can’t you just…” Naomi was about to say something but held back, grabbed his collar, pulling him down to kiss his lips. You almost immediately looked away, seeing from your peripheral vision how she put Satoru’s arms around her waist. “Come home quick.” She whispered not so quietly at him. Getting in the car, you wondered if his mom told her about it.

“Naomi…” Satoru sighed, pulling away before looking at you with a concerned look in his eyes as he nodded away at her words. Leaving her, Satoru entered the car and started it. She stood there with a mixed look on her face that screams how irritated and upset she is with the events. 

“You don’t have to file a restraining order against her. She’s still your mother.” You didn’t have to say that but you felt like you’re the reason why there’s a gap between them now. “She’s not good for Yui. I can’t have her around speaking about you like that in front of her.” He was breathing hard. “Can you calm down? You’re driving.” 

“Sorry.” He muttered, before taking a deep breath. “I hope she won’t be there when I come back. I can deal with it on my own, whatever Naomi and I have to talk about.” He ranted, “I wish she didn’t intervene so much in everything I do. I feel like the decisions I made aren’t even mine.” He rarely talked like this back then. Actually, you rarely interacted like this back then.

“How’s…” Hesitating, he swallowed before continuing his question, “How’s Toji’s family to you?” He asked softly as if the information he’ll get can break him even more. It probably would. “He’s not that close to them, so they don’t really know much about us. I’ve met them twice when we picked up Megumi. They treat us kindly.” You glanced at him, seeing him purse his lips.

“That’s good for you. You won’t have to deal with something like this.” Satoru wanted to say that he’ll cut ties with his mother to protect you; to be with you. But knowing you, you’ll probably feel like it’s your fault and he doesn’t want that.

He’s aware that his mother influenced the decisions he made in the past. Talking to someone about it made him realize how wrong he approached things with you and how easily he let himself be swayed by the instant gratification that he felt when he gave up on your relationship. 

None of it was worth it. 

—--------------------------------------------------

Three Days Ago

“I can’t do that,” Naomi spoke as she tried to lean away from Satoru’s mom. They met at a cafe near her neighborhood. She was supposed to ask for advice, but it quickly turned into plotting how to lock Satoru to her. “Listen, Y/N was able to keep Satoru with her because they have a child together.” She tapped a sharp nail on the table.

Naomi would be lying if she said that she didn’t think about using that to get more of his time. She admit that she thought of a way to make him have a kid with her, even trying to lie about her safe day to make him do it inside her. She didn’t think that hearing it come from someone else can sound so sick and twisted.

If Satoru doesn’t want the kid, what’s going to happen to me; to us?

“Why are you worried? I’ve been in the same situation and I’m telling you, Satoru kept his father for me.” Naomi’s eyebrows bumped together as she thought of how easy it was for her to say something like that. “You did that to his father?” She asked in disbelief, wanting nothing but to go but desperate enough to stay.

“Not intentionally. But had I not told him, his ex-wife wouldn’t have left us alone and he wouldn’t have stopped running after her.” She took a sip of her coffee, making her seem so chill with her story. Naomi knows all of it for Satoru once told her. She just thought that his mother really baby-trapped his dad to make him stay.

Can Naomi really do that?

“You won’t baby trap my son, you just let him come to you. Attract him like you did back then.” She nodded at Naomi. “I just wanted to help him, then. I didn’t try to seduce him.” She defended herself, “But you did drink with him a few times? Tell me you didn’t get seductive with him during those nights.” She dared, and Naomi looked down.

She remembers telling him how she liked his eyes and how he was too hot to bury himself in problems. She also remembers nonchalantly telling him how he caught her eye when she first saw him. She knows that she liked to think of him and Yui as her own little family even before they started dating and she remembers promising him that they can make it work.

Was Naomi really being just a friend to him then? Or was she already falling for him when she tried to become what he needs during those times?

“Y/N was confident that she’ll get Satoru back and that’s why she let her guard down. Now, if you want to be her so much then, be happy-go-lucky and watch him dump you.” She shook her head, and the words easily got Naomi thinking twice. She’s not trying to be like you. She’s better than you. 

She’s better for him than you.

“Why do you hate her so much?” Naomi suddenly asked, thinking out loud as she carefully thought about her decision. I mean, she didn’t really do anything to me.” If she’s going to think about it, other than the misunderstandings— which were probably caused by something offensive she did or said—you’re never antagonistic towards her.

“She ruined my son’s life. I shouldn’t have expected anything knowing how she got him, but she even had the nerve to try and make him do all the work. She’s probably just after the money..” No matter how hard she tried to recall, Naomi can’t remember him sighing over having Yui with you. “And you think she didn’t really do anything to you? You’re a bit naive.” Naomi’s forehead puckered at her statement.

“Didn’t you notice how she got a new man only now when it started looking like Satoru’s sure about you?” His mother might just be overthinking things but it didn’t help that the changes in her and Satoru’s relationship were almost perfectly timed with you getting a boyfriend. But what if it’s just Satoru? It could’ve been a coincidence, right?

Realizing how she was trying to convince herself in her mind, Naomi only felt worse. Maybe she really has to do something. After all, she swore to him that they can make it work. She’s not someone to just back down and give up on the one she loves when things get tough.

She’s better than you, and unlike you, she won’t run away; she’ll fight for their relationship. 

—------------------------------------------

Arriving home, Yui was already wide awake. “...then, Dad will be back to buy a new cake with Yui! How’s that?” Satoru kissed her cheek as he put her down on the couch. The little girl got upset that her dad has to go so soon. She just stood there wordlessly, leaning on the couch as she refused to look at Satoru.

“It’s okay, I’ll talk to her. She’s just grumpy because her nap was disturbed.” Walking towards the little girl, you sat down and put her on your lap. “Say bye, now.” You pushed the stray hairs away from her face and Satoru can’t help but admire how much he missed just seeing the two of you waiting for him on his couch.

Yui was younger then; much smaller in your arms. And he felt like a real husband coming home to his wife and child when you’d be there, watching TV when he got home from work. It’s been more than a year now, he just thinks he’s lucky enough to still be close to you again. 

You’re not as close as he wants you to be but this is more than enough for a beggar like him.

Leaning down to give your daughter a kiss, she turned away from him. “Yui, that’s not nice.” Her mouth was quivering but you know her too well. “You better go, they’re waiting for you there.” You looked at him but he only stared at you, sighing deeply. You felt like it was the hundredth time today. 

He looked so worn out; like he was just ready to drop as soon as he gets these things out of his tail. You wondered if you looked like this to him back then, too. Probably not this bad because you don’t have a meddlesome mother who keeps trying to put her finger in the pie. 

Before Satoru could answer, a knock on the door was heard. The door opened and a little boy holding his sippy cup stood by the doorway. Toji held the doorknob, staring at you and Satoru. What time is it? You thought. You remembered telling him that you’d be back by 4 in the afternoon. Yui was quick to jump from your lap.

“Dada! ‘Gumi! Dada! ‘Gumi!” She squealed at them and you could feel Satoru tense up beside you. She had been told by Toji about it, but hearing it from her friend isn’t helping at all. Megumi looked up at Satoru before looking at Yui. “Hey, hey, hey. What’s my name?” Toji bent down to pick her up when she kept stomping her feet and reaching up at him.

“Dada!” She laughed, before pointing at Megumi who was now taking his little bag from his father’s hand. “You’ll play later. Listen, tell your Dada what my name is.” Toji repeated just as Satoru regained his composure. “It’s alright,” He chuckled, “She probably thought you’re her Dada because you take care of her. And her mom.” You wanted to stop him, feeling bad that he had to pretend that he's cool about this.

Yui’s first word was ‘Dada’ and you could still remember how happy he was when he got her to say it before ‘Mama’. You can’t stand the thought of that memory becoming painful for him. “I gotta go, I’ll just pick her up again tomorrow.” He whispered to you, before nodding to Toji. “Bye, love. See you, tomorrow.” He waved at Yui, faking a smile before rushing to leave.

Yui waved back at him before wiggling out of Toji’s arms. She rushed to get her toys when he put her down. “She’s…she’s a kid” Biting your lip, you breathed out through your nose before walking to Toji and putting your arms around him. “Don’t run.” He called out to the children as giggled their way to Yui’s room. “I feel bad. I’m gonna talk to him later.” You mumbled.

Toji kissed your forehead before you pulled him to your room. “What’s going on?” He asked you, sitting on the bed. “Are you worried?” You asked, straddling him. “I am.” He answered, ignoring your actions. You looked up at him with a frown, remembering the misunderstanding that you had. “Why was he here?” 

“Look, he just had to drop me and Yui off because his mother was in his house—” He cut you off, leaning away a bit from you. You know that you didn’t tell him that you were going to Satoru’s house with Yui because you were still upset about your argument the other day and earlier this morning. 

“You told me the time but you can’t tell me where you were going?” Perplexity was clear on his face, “I didn’t want to agitate you further. I wouldn’t tell you right now if there’s another reason why I’m there except for Yui.” You tried to explain, feeling him put you beside him on the bed. “Y/N, that’s not the point.” He sighed, closing his eyes.

“Then, what is? I wasn’t planning to stay for long.” You kicked off your shoes, before turning to him. “Look, I’m sorry, ok? I just thought you were mad because of earlier.” You hugged his arm, putting your forehead on his shoulder. “And I was still upset.” Kicking his own shoes off, Toji pulled you on top of him as he leaned back on the headboard

“You have to tell me why you’re upset. It can’t be just the orange juice.” He spoke, grabbing your face as he kissed you. You moaned, breathing into him as you opened your mouth, letting his tongue find yours. His grunts sent vibrations to your core as you press yourself against him. 

“Did you lock the door?” He murmured, taking off your cardigan before putting his hands on your buttocks. “Yeah, don’t worry.” You quickly took off your shirt before going back to kissing him, completely forgetting about what he was asking from you. 

“As long as we can hear the laughs, they’re fine.” He chuckled, unclasping your bra before taking a nipple in his mouth. “Oh…” You moaned rubbing on his shoulders and tugging at the fabric of his sweater. His other fingers tweaked at your bud as he stared up at you, lustful eyes taking away your worries.

You really just don’t want to tell him that the mention of his wife is starting to trigger you.

Taking off the clothing, he flipped you on your back, removing your belt and jeans. His lips trailed kisses on your thighs as he go, massaging your calves before parting your legs, making you inhale sharply. “We can’t drag this long. Come here.” You giggled, ushering him to hover over you. “You know how they are…” You moaned when he started to kiss your neck.

His tongue and teeth bring pleasure and a bit of sting on your skin. “You just want it that much.” Winking at you, he discarded his remaining clothes before hovering over your womanhood. He smirked as he slid your underwear down, kissing your pearl. “Toji…” You whined, worried that this might get cut short if he doesn’t hurry.

“Alright, alright. I can’t just stick in. Let’s see…” Spreading your lips with two fingers, he eyed your heat with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly ajar, you can’t help but rock your hips against his hand, desperate for friction. Your eyes shut close when he put a finger in, slowly at first, before speeding up when he added a second one.

Toji panted, stroking his member when he felt you squeeze his digits. You’re dripping and he’s starting to ache. “Fuck.” He muttered as he leaned over to go for your lips, kissing you hard. He growled in your mouth when you whimpered as he rubbed on your pearl while massaging the sensitive spot inside you.

Pulling away when your legs started to tremble, Toji hissed as he tapped his head on the bundle of nerves before rubbing his length on your wet folds to lube himself up. “Toji, please.” You cupped your mounds, looking up at him. Seeing you like this drove him crazy, he had to hold back from just slamming himself into you. 

Grabbing a pillow and putting it under your hips, Toji prodded your entrance with his tip. He opened your legs wider, taking in the sight of you being stretched and his shaft disappearing slowly until he was fully in. Leaning on the bed with one hand, he grabbed your jaw with the other and silenced your moans with his kisses.

“You can’t let them hear you.” He murmured as he clenches his jaw, pressing his nose on your cheeks and kissing it. He was moving steadily inside of you and whispering words of praises to your ear, “You take me so well now.” He teased you, groaning whenever your hole fluttered around him.

You gasped when Toji pushes your legs to your chest, pounding deeper into you as he sings your name like you do to his. His thrusts were unrelenting, merciless as he slams himself into you. Soon enough, your walls were starting to convulse and your nails were clawing on his arm. 

“Come on. Let it go, hon.” You closed your eyes, feeling your chest throb at the nickname he used but the surges of pleasure that took over your senses flooded it out. Your hand covered your mouth, eyes rolling back as you writhed underneath him, coming undone with a cry of delight escaping your lips.

Your thighs trembled under his touch as he continued to rut into you, desperate for his high. “Oh fuck…Oh, Y/N.” Feeling your walls spasm and contract around him, he hurriedly pulled out and spilled his load on your womanhood. A sight to see, he thought as he watched your thighs still shaking from the pleasure.

“Wait a minute," Reaching over to your cabinet, Toji took the box of tissues before wiping you and himself clean. Hearing the jolly screams from the other room made you both laugh to yourself. "That's too quick. We gotta continue this later." He winked, throwing the tissues away before getting on the bed with you.

"Definitely." You let out a tired laugh as you put your head on his shoulder, sighing as the heavy feeling settled on top of your chest. Why did you have to remember him just from that word alone? Toji tilted your head up for a passionate kiss, blurring away the image of your ex inside your head.

“I have a request, though.” You looked down, avoiding his curious gaze. “Can you….can we not use ‘hon’?” You don’t know how weirdly you phrased the question until you looked at Toji to see him looking puzzled. “I mean…this is the first time you called me that and I’m, uh, not really comfortable with that. “

“Yeah, alright. But why?” Maybe you should’ve thought this through. You know Toji’s been getting moody whenever you two talk about anything concerning Satoru. You can’t really blame him after what happened that night. “I just… don’t feel it.” You lied, shrugging. “It’s not that bad, though. I could get used to it.” You smiled up at him, pecking his lips.

“Alright, I think I know.” He exhaled harshly, standing up from the bed to grab your clothes. Great. You just ruined the moment. “Are you mad?” You sat up, watching him get dressed. “No, I just wanna check on the kids.” He is mad. You clicked your tongue, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Babe, I just don’t want to–“ 

“Y/N. I said alright. I can’t do anything about it, anyway.” That doesn’t fix anything. “A lot of people use that, I just don’t get why you keep getting affected.” You stared at him, baffled. “It’s not like I want to do that. I can’t help my mind, there was a memory attached to that word.” 

You stood up to get a robe, “You know that it’s not easy for me, too. I told you.” You uttered, watching his back through your vanity mirror as he stood still. “Maybe if you stop relating everything to him, then it won’t be so hard.” With that, he left the room and you don’t know if you’re hurt or just shocked that he would say something like that to you.

Because he does that to you too. And you thought that he, of all people, should understand where you’re coming from. 

—————————————-

Satoru slid the door open with force, seeing Naomi flinch as she was startled by the sound. “Where’s mom?” He asked, breathing hard and eager to just put an end to the craziness she was doing. “I convinced her that we’ll be fine.” She walked to him, smiling as she put her arms around his neck. 

“We just need to catch up on each other, I feel like we’ve been too occupied these days.” She buried her face in the crook of his neck, kissing the skin as she rubbed his nape with a soft, delicate hand. “Yeah, we got a lot to talk about.” Satoru put a hand on the small of her back. “But first, you gotta tell me what that was about.”

“I just invited her over. I didn’t know Y/N would be here, sorry.” She sighed, before dragging him to the couch. Satoru kept thinking about the scene before he left your house. That was just a lot to take in, especially when he just fought with his mother. “I got no work tomorrow, we can stay up all night.” She giggled, taking off her cardigan.

“Let’s have a couple of drinks during dinner. I’ll cook for you.” She proposed, walking to the kitchen. Checking his phone, he found himself expecting a text from you. None. You don’t give a fuck about him. He sighed, It’s okay. As long as I can see themi, he thought. He just hoped that you’d ask how things went in his house. Or if he’s hurt about ‘Dada’ Toji. All the things he shouldn’t expect.

Guess, I’ll fucking die of jealousy, then. He clenched his teeth proceeding to his bedroom. “I’ll wash up.” He spoke to Naomi, “Go on, baby. I’ll be making dinner.” She answered, glancing his way. If she’s going to be honest, she wanted to skip the talks. The truth is Naomi’s afraid of what he’ll say if she confronts him with her real thoughts.

She could easily skip those steps, and get to her goal.

Goal? Naomi’s movements halt as she realized how she sounded. She’s not a bad person, she thought. Is she really gonna do this? “If you want to be her so much then, be happy-go-lucky and watch him dump you.” Naomi’s breath hitched when his mother’s words reverberated in her head.

She can’t lose him. Not now when they’re almost settling down. She’s not being a monster, she’s not baiting him. He’ll come to her on his own like he did before. She’s just going to make him see that she’s good for him. 

Dinner time came and she prepared it more than ordinary, hoping to ignite a light in him. It’s not usual for a woman to start something like this but Naomi’s different. As she said, she’ll fight for him. “Wow, is this a date?” Satoru chuckled sitting down in front of her seat. “I just wanted to rekindle. Your mom’s right, we’re just drifting away. I can’t stand that happening.”

Walking to her chair, Naomi stopped by him and kissed his cheek. Satoru on the other hand, can’t help but feel bad. He’s sure that nothing will change even if they do this. “Try. She’s a good person.” He quickly downed a drink, letting it take your voice away. Not because he doesn’t want to listen to you, but because he’s not sure if he can do it. 

The dinner went by quickly, and they were just discussing over drinks. He can’t even count how many he downed when she started talking about how you look more plump. “They might beat us in giving Yui a sibling.” She joked, laughing because she didn’t know what was in his head. “I doubt it, she wanna get married first.” He replied monotonously before opening up about his counseling sessions.

“Counselling?” She asked. The topic is incredibly close to what Satoru’s about to confess. She stared at her wide eyes as he nodded. “Were you having problems? Baby, why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you.” Her concern was sincere and it made him feel like a villain. “I wanted to be better for Yui.” And for Y/N. 

Clueless, she gave him a fond stare. “You’re a great father. Y/N knows that.”  There were times during the dinner when Satoru was so close to spitting out the truth to her but the effort she put in just to make that food on the table makes him feel remorseful. 

Satoru knows that it’s not right. But just for tonight, after all the months that he made him feel tranquil, he can spare her heart for a night or two. He didn’t want to hurt her, he didn’t want to break her heart. But staying would only mean that she’s never going to get what she wants and deserves.

“I’ll be brushing my teeth then, get to bed. The drink got to me.” He laughed, holding the chair as he stood up. “Thank you so much. For everything.” She came to hug him, kissing his lips as she murmured words of adoration to him. “Go ahead, you’re all red, can you walk?” She joked, before pushing him to go, “I’ll be with you in a few. I feel really sleepy now, too.” 

It’s been almost half an hour. Naomi checked on Satoru to find him sleeping soundly already. Not even her slam of the door woke him up. She stared at herself in the mirror, “I’m really gonna do this.” She exhaled, closing her eyes before going walking out of the bathroom. He’s still in the same position as before. 

Stepping closer, Naomi removed her silk robe, revealing her night dress. She clenched her fist tightly, before quickly releasing it just to try and get rid of the tension in her body. She sat on the bed, touching his chest and abs. Hearing him moan when she got to his lower part calmed her slightly. Just like we always do, she repeated in her head, kissing his skin.

“I’m sorry, Satoru…” She whispered one last time.

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#angst #gojo angst #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk #jjk x reader

[bambiesfics]

𝗘𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗦𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗚𝗳 — Ellie x Bimbo!r

𝜗𝜚 Author’s notes ✦ Butch/femme dynamics, Ellie has a panic attack, this references joel’s death, anxiety, bile, nausea, and hyper sexual themes, Ellie’s butch, wears a packer/strap. Refers to it as cock, dick etc Reader’s a bimbo and genuinely stupid. Ellie gets really scared.

𝜗𝜚 Ellie Williams ✦ I listened to Vietnam - Crystal Castles it’s tempo mirrors Ellie’s panicked anxiety. I’ve linked to a few seconds before the beat drops, on YouTube for accessibility. Listen with earphones so the music fucks your ears.

𝜗𝜚 If you find yourself uncomfortable with the themes in this fic, maybe try educating yourself on Butch sexuality. Read this to get a sense of Ellie’s headspace.

kisses u. ⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡.

Ellie fisted the joystick into neutral and killed the engine. She cracked all 5 knuckles before reaching over to release your seatbelt. The belts cold buckle sprang across your breasts and over your shoulder, turning your nipples visibly hard and full in their wake. Ellie fought off the urge to glance down; to drink them in. She was semi-successful at managing away her inner teenage boy every time it chose to rear its ugly hungry head at inopportune moments.

  “So…” she started, her hand massaging the inner dough of your thighs, warmed by the hug of your crossed legs. “We just gettin’ your little sparkly earrings? Or are you gonna get distracted and spend more money than I make in a single paycheck?” 

  You ran your palms up the sleeves of Ellie’s brown military jacket. Fascinated by the texture of the rough fabric everytime one of its crinkles caught against your acrylic nails. You couldn’t fathom how Ellie walked around in clothes so rough and distressed, all of your outfits were soft cotton or silky satin. And here Ellie wore a deconstructed uniform jacket like it was meant for her body. You blinked away your distracted thoughts, and leaned into nose at her neck. Pressing nose and lips to the source of the most comforting scent in the world to you. Allspice, cigarette smoke, and 2-in-1 body wash. There was still a faint trace of her cologne, you wish she wore it, the traces of it made you go brainless for your butch.

  “Earrings only.” Your sweet voice was muffled against her neck. She reached her other hand up to cup the back of your neck. The cold metal of her rings kissed your skin, but you leaned into it.   

 “I’ll wait for you right here, peach.” 

“Okay.” You nodded obediently. 

“Don’t spend too long in there, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded once again. 

“If anyone stares at you too long or makes you feel weird for being girly, call me and I’ll meet you wherever. Especially those judgemental ass grandmas.”

You looked up at her, her hair was in her eyes, casting a shadow that turned her gaze into a deep hunter green. 

You leaned in slowly and kissed her lips. Ellie attempted to chase the kiss, until you slid your hand between the valley of her breasts and urged her to stay. Behave baby boy. 

  Ellie’s right eyebrow quirked up in response, impressed that you kept her in check. That you knew her so well that you could tell exactly where that kiss could’ve led to if you didn’t tell her to slow down. 

“Be right back here in an hour.” Ellie was relishing in how your thumb rubbed across her chest. Your hand rested on her chest like you were her little damsel in distress, looking to her to save you. You made her feel like Clark Kent, and it made her want to puff her chest out. 

  “Hour-and-a-half, I wanna get ice cream.” You prattled.

  “An hour.”

  “Ellieeee” You whined. 

  “If you’re not back here by 2:30 pm, I’m stomping into Icing myself, throwing you over my shoulder and marching right back out.” 

  “Please as if you could hoist me up over your shoulder.” You leaned over to fish Ellie’s wallet from her back pocket. 

  Ellie side-eyed you intensely as she tracked the movement. She enclsaped your wrist in an iron grip once your acrylics brushed the back pocket of her jeans. Her thumb pressed down. You couldn’t move.

“You didn’t seem confused about my strength when I lifted you into that full nelson and pounded you in front of the mirror.” She dropped her blue steel face and started grinning like a fox. “Uhnnuhuh Ellie, m’gonna squirt. I’m gonna squirt on you daddy.” She mocked in a high-pitched overly feminine voice. She drew her eyebrows together to school up the appearance of someone deliriously aroused. One that mimicked your cock-drunk face all those days ago.  

  Ellie dropped the comedic expression for a moment, in favor of replacing it with the one she sported to intimidate customers who started testing her boundaries or her patience. The one that said ‘respect me.’  

“Fuck you, asshole. I’m made of steel.” She spat.

  You leaned up, and just planted a glossy kiss on her cheek. She blushed until she was cherry tomato red. She always blushed harder when you were affectionate to her, in the middle of her egotistical masculine delusions. Like a mom kissing her son's cheek, after he called himself Spider-Man. 

Ellie would tease you for hours. But remind her again you were her adorable little girlfriend who she worshiped, then she’d be back to acting right again. Ready to hump the air just to get a whiff of your hair. Sweet and pliable. Ellie crossed her fingers subtly and hoped you got specks of glitter gloss on her cheek from that kiss. She wore your kisses like merchandise. Those and the smell of your pussy on her mouth and fingers. Some days, the smell was just smeared all over her face. 

  You blinked at her, slow and pouty in the way that got her real happy and pleased. “Now that you’re done poking and teasing me, can I go inside to get my sparkly earrings?” 

Ellie slid her wallet into your palm, her lips parted at the way your acrylics snatched it. The way they sunk into the soft leather. Mmmm.

  “An hour.” 

You climbed out of her beat up hatchback. The metal groaned as you slammed the door shut. “See you Els, if I get in trouble or get lost I’ll call you okay? I charged my phone this time. Bye-bye.”  You sing-songed just before walking away, out of the parking lot and towards the entrance of the mall.

  You were the utter definition of hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go. Ellie drank in the very very obvious little characters of your ass. The jiggly flesh, dimpled skin, and the way they smacked each other with each step. The type of visual someone could only see if the person walking in front of them was naked. Which you practically were considering how your pink cotton leggings looked painted on. The silhouette was way too intimate with how well it showed the character of your ass. She could’ve forced you to change, but you two had such a good morning today. 

Ellie didn’t want to—no—she hated picking fights with you. Ellie being mad at you? That was just another Tuesday. She had temperament issues, trauma, death of a loved one blah blah blah. But you being mad at Ellie? She’d kill herself. She shuddered in the car at the thought of it, and swallowed her jealousy. Everyone sees your little dimpled ass? Fine. She’s the only person that’s seen it twerking for her during backshots. And anyway, you’d get jealous if she wore gray sweatpants to work, so she kinda understood the sentiment. Especially because she packed everywhere, and the bulge was glaring. 

  Ellie wrapped her knuckles on the steering wheel. Trying to distract herself from the slow and lonely weight of the parking lot. Joy Division’s “disorder” played in her head. She considered pulling out a Marlboro to smoke, but thought against it. She remembered how you squealed whenever she kissed you with cigarette breath, telling her how it made your kisses taste so bitter. 

Truth be told, she was just as clingy with you, as you were to her. You just initiated it more often. When someone follows her around like a little puppy trying to catch up to its much larger owner all day, it’s hard not to notice their missing presence. 

  Ellie played with her rings as the mounting anxiety gnawed at her tummy. She turned her wrist over to check her watch. Ten. Only ten minutes had gone by? Fucking christ. 

She puffed out her cheeks. Yeah she was being ridiculous. Knowing you, you probably had only just arrived at the store, and that meant making a cute pikachu face at every new piece of merchandise they shipped into the shop floor that week. So it’d be a while before you were back. She could’ve gone in with you, but Ellie knew her presence there would’ve weirdly encouraged you to take a full day tour of the mall. She was your walking wallet apparently. But it’s worse when the wallet can actually give in.

  It was better this way, you kept her card in hand, but Ellie wasn’t physically there to actually convince of anything. So you couldn’t use it to buy anything more than earrings. Plus, she couldn’t stand another trip to Victoria’s Secret. As much as she loved the way you modeled a show for her whenever you tried stuff on, and as much as the jokes she cracked with the other boyfriends waiting for their girlfriends to be done made for good conversation, Victoria’s Secret just served to make her feel incredibly out of place. Mostly due to its overtly sexual displays of femininity. Something she still struggled to place how she felt about. All Ellie knew was that she didn’t want it.

Matter of fact she had repelled femininity so much, it even reflected in her dating preferences. You were by far the most feminine girl Ellie had ever dated. That was a considerably large shift from the tomboys she typically had crushes on in highschool.  

But she couldn’t help but be turned on by the way your acrylics stroked her bulge, by the way you blinked up at her with those dolly lashes like you needed her approval more than you needed oxygen, by the way she got both wet and enraged seeing men’s gazes linger on you as she walked behind you. Lingering in a way that they never did for any of her exes. It ignited a possessiveness in her she had convinced herself she didn’t have the ability to feel. Made her walk out the house with her shoulders drawn up to her ears, scowling. As if to say to all the men, ‘fuck off, get your own cocksleeve. This one’s claimed.’ 

  You were the cutest cocksleeve too. The human embodiment of a little bow for her dick. 

Just the thought prompted her to squeeze her bulge through her jeans, feeling phantom erections.

God it’d been how long now? Ellie checked her watch, reading the watch face to make sure she’d read that right. Twenty minutes? Only?

  Her palms started perspiring, and she started grinding her teeth. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. She’ll be back any minute. Be cool, you freak. 

Ellie reached to grab her phone, but the way the time flashed at the top bar of the screen made her stomach knot up anxiously. She chucked her phone into the passenger seat, and rolled down the window to get some fresh air. It felt beautiful for a moment, her rough short hair curling around the wind and blowing in her eyes. But then she felt like she couldn’t breathe again. Like her throat was squeezing in on itself. So Ellie unbuttoned the top button of her navy plaid button down. She yanked the collar away from her neck, and took deep breaths. Nice and deep slow breaths. The demonic little shadows and whispers of panic ebbed away, leaving only room for peace and the sunlight of the early afternoon. Ellie smiled, she’d be fine. 

She played with her rings, recounting all the places and dates she’d thrifted them from. Then she started fidgeting with them as her leg bounced in the car, working off some of that returning nervous energy. The little shadows were starting to creep back in her mind again. Ellie white-knuckled the steering wheel. “No, no, no please. Not now, please not now.” She sucked in a deep breath as unshed tears lined her waterline. She flipped her wrist watch face up quickly, you’d been gone for thirty-five minutes by this point. And Ellie felt her skin run cold. thirty-five minutes left twenty-five minutes. Twenty-five more minutes for the ebb and flow of panic to infect her brain and trigger her adrenaline response. Twenty-five more minutes of letting her own mind attack itself. Ellie couldn’t stomach the thought. She started gasping as she fidgeted to remove the car keys from the ignition. The dark whispering shadow only urged her to look at one thought in her mind: Alone. You’re alone again, Ellie. 

  She nearly keeled over from the sheer nausea that thought brought about. Ellie tripped out of her car, slammed the door and stumbled towards the mall as her heartbeat thundered louder than her thoughts. And her thoughts were very loud. Her face felt tight and itchy, as she ran. And due to the combination of wind and glossy eyes, her vision warped until it became disfigured. Which only set off to make her blood run icier. Like she was being deprived of all her necessary  senses as she yanked the mall door open and stumbled around trying to wade her way through until she got to the side where women’s jewelry and clothing was huddled. Her vision was disjointed, Ellie felt as if she was looking through a fish-eye lens. It caused bile to rise in her throat. Ellie was spiraling, she knew it. And if she didn’t find you—fuck where were you?—it was only going to get uglier for her. She despised being reduced to ugly. She hated herself when she was ugly. 

  Snot mixed in with tears as she scaled the walls of the mall trying to use the brightness of pink and white signs to guide her to the right store. You promised you’d go to icing, you promised you’d go to icing, you promised you’d go to icing. She hummed the mantra in corners of her brain.

She gurgled “better fucking be at Icing otherwise I’m gonna kill he—my heart christ—fuck fuck fuck baby please be at icing.” The palpitations rolled in, causing her heart to beat erratically. Two beats instead of one, a skipped beat, or an extra hard beat. Every bastardized combination instead of the reliable, glub-glub of a healthy heart. Ellie gripped her own shirt, and tried to feel any lingering warmth from your hand when you placed it there nearly an hour ago. Her breaths were coming out ragged, and she was still blind with a disjointed vision no matter how much she rubbed her jacket across her eyes to soak up tears. Ellie stumbled until she saw a store with the familiar lettering, and she yanked and tugged at her shirt to ground herself as she made her way to the checkout lane. “Hi.” Her voice came out so small and strained. She hated herself for it. 

  “Have you seen a girl, she’s—seems about yay-high and she’s wearing pink leggings and a tight pink top. Oh—she’s pretty—long nails. My girlfriend, do you know where my girlfriend is?” Ellie choked, her sanity was slipping. Her bloodshot eyes were crazed as she stared down at the cashier like the woman held the answer to curing Ellie’s mental suffering. 

  “N-no. Sorry I didn’t see a girl with pink leggings.”

  “No?” Ellie’s voice grew fainter, weaker. She sobbed “are you sure?” but her voice crackled with that sentence, and the cashier just stared at her with a puzzled expression, unsure of what to say to diffuse the situation. 

  Ellie stumbled out of the store, flinching at the expressions of customers who were looking around the store to see if they were the only one witnessing the girl's mounting panic attack. She ran to an empty hallway in the mall. The one where they kept those gumball machines that hadn’t been replaced since 1998. She fell to her knees and curled in on herself. Her nails scratched her scalp until it broke skin, trying to draw out the thoughts of being alone, being alone, being alone, being, alone, being alone, being alone, being alone, being alone, out of her head. 

Ellie tugged at her hair now, using the self-inflicted pain to distract from that hungry giggling fear, the one that wrapped itself around her eyes and throat and told her to describe what she saw: loneliness. Pitch black, devoid of warmth, pure unadulterated isolation. 

She needed you, needed you so bad as she cried to herself on her knees. She should’ve never let you go alone, she should’ve never let you walk away from her, she should’ve never let you have an hour to leave her, she should’ve never let you take her wallet and not take her, she should’ve never ever ever ever ignored the signs, the raised hairs and the feeling of dread that pooled in her stomach the past week. Just waiting to be triggered by something insignificant. Now it was triggered, and in an incredibly public place too. Ellie beat her chest, coughing just to bring herself down from the dissociative hell her mind was flinching in. “Baby where are you? I’m hurting…it’s hurting me again. Pleasepleasepleaseplease, peach.”  

  Nails bluntly tickled her nape, sending a shiver down her spine just as the smell of sweet jasmine and vanilla perfume engulfed her. Ellie broke from her kneeling fetal position to draw you into her lap. She didn’t even need to look at you, she knew you like the back of her hand. Ellie knew the feeling of those acrylic nails because of how deeply they’d scratched down her back in bed. She knew the smell of your perfume from how often she’d buried her face into your waiting body after work for comfort. Her grip was painful, likely breaking capillaries from its tightness. She mewled for you like a kitten finding its mother. “Babygirl.” 

  “Ellie—Ellie I’m sorry did I take too long? I set an alarm, I don’t think it went off, I’m sorry Ellie I didn’t mean too I promise.” Ellie let out a wet laugh from where her face was crooned in your neck. She just shook her head. It absolutely was not your fault. But God weren’t you just the cutest fucking thing in the world for thinking you’d made another little mistake? How sweet, that even in the face of Ellie’s utter mental crack and breakdown, you found a way to give your baby the benefit of the doubt. Ellie dragged her face up your neck, inhaling deeply as her nose traced a path up your throat. The scent alone was like Xanax to the nerves, drowning her in a sea of serenity. Letting the anxiety ebb away until it was no more than a dull twinge, the whispers reduced to muted hums. You were her light. Ellie’s grip on you tightened, her medicine. 

  She pulled her face away, and she could only imagine how distressed she must’ve looked by the way your eyebrows drew up, and by the way your pretty little lips formed a worried pout. Ellie gnawed on her bottom lip. There was nothing to fear, you would understand. 

“You didn’t take too long princess, I just had a panic attack.”

  Your hands flew to cup Ellie’s reddened blotchy cheeks, massaging her face cutely as her eyelashes fluttered. God, you were a balm. “I should’ve seen it coming, I’ve been feeling so out of it the past week. But then this morning was so fun. We made fluffy pancakes, you sat on my lap and listened to my dumb work drama, helped me trim my bangs, then...” Ellie blew air into her cheeks and looked up. This was going to be hard to say. Felt like a lump stuck in her throat. “Then we got ready and the kiss we had before we got in the car made everything melt away. This morning was so good baby, so good. I tried to ignore it, thinking my brain just wanted to be a little asshole and spook me for no reason. But no—I should’ve known—it doesn’t play tricks, it only gives warnings.” 

  Ellie leaned into your palms, she kissed them gently. “Can we go home baby?.” She held your gaze through wet eyelashes. You nodded “Mhm. I’m sorry Els I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I missed you.” You were disappointed because you didn’t intuitively know the right words to say, and how to say them. Didn’t know how to articulate that you understood her pain but she also shouldn’t beat herself up. Everything you thought of sounded cliche, you weren’t smarter than her, you weren’t able to come up with reassuring words the way other people could. Not like her uncle Tommy or Maria, or anyone. All you could do was cover her in kisses, tell her you loved her, that next time you’d never ever be separated from her, and cradle her head against your chest. 

  Ellie rose to her feet, pulling you up with her by your elbows. The kiss that followed was for comfort, for reassurance. For the feeling of squeezing her human emotional support plushie. 

  Ellie pulled away first, leaving you wanting more. She tasted so good, smelled so good. Made you want to pur and stroke her through her jeans. But it wasn’t the time nor place. Not after recent events. 

“Did you get your earrings at least?” 

“Yeah, I got a pair for you too!” You shared excitedly. 

  Ellie was still shaken up, but for now she could break out a small grin. “You got earrings for me?”

  “Yes, same color too!” 

  “Baby, my ears aren’t even pierced...”

  “Oh.” Ellie loved that, your characteristic little ‘oh’. 

“I knew that. I just got them for when—for when you decided to pierce them, yeah.” 

Ellie was hot in your heels as you two made your way out of the mall “Is that right?”

“Mhm.” You refused to meet her eyes.

“Oh yeah? K, then. Thank you so much for getting me a gift using my credit card.”

 “You’re very welcome, I love when we match as a couple. Els when we got home, did you want my chicken noodle? Cause it’ll make you feel better.”  

Ellie sucked in a breath. Cuteness aggression was real, and she was feeling it so hard right then. Right after her emotions had already been frayed by her anxiety. She knew, if it wasn’t for the way the panic attack had left her feeling utterly exhausted, bone tired like a wet blanket, ready to drop at a moment's notice to recuperate, that she would’ve done something that would’ve pulled a squeal out of you in the car. And she had the package to do so. 

  “Sure, I’ll eat your damn noodle soup.” She chuckled tiredly. 

  You put both palms on her chest and leaned in to kiss her, stealing back some of the desire that was ripped away too soon in the mall. 

“You’ll feel better in no time.” 

 Ellie gave you a once-over. Over eager, as usual. 

“Somehow I don’t doubt that.” 

  You littered her face in kisses all the way home, like you always did. Like you thought each press of your lips to her freckled face was going to cure her of her anguish. And believe Ellie, every press of your puffy lips to her cheeks, tip of her nose and forehead did more for her state of mind than two hours of trauma therapy a week did. Or at least that’s what she’d like to believe. Fuck the noddle soup, it’s you. You’re what’s going to make her feel better. As long as you’re there, everyday for her to come home to. All she needed was her pretty princess, her little babydoll, her little bimbo.

#Ellie Williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #Ellie #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #ellie williams x you #the last of us #ellie tlou2 #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #the last of us fanfiction #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie x you #tlou smut #the last of us x you #tlou #the last of us x reader #the last of us x y/n #the last of us smut #tlou x y/n #tlou x reader #tlou part 2 #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #tlou 2

[miley1442111]

(part 3) choices and meetings- a.donaldson

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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

i'll probably do a few more parts of this because it's just so cute and sad :(

summary: the first conversation you two have after the break-up.

pairing: art donaldson x reader

warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment, hurt, allusions to an eating disorder, depression, etc. +

PART 1: before his choice PART 2: choices and chances PART 4: wrong choice, wrong move PART 5: party choices

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It had been 4 weeks since the break up. Both of you were miserable but you wouldn’t tell the other. There was no ‘hot guy from your science class’ that you were fucking, you just wanted to make him jealous. 

It did make him jealous. Very jealous. Just the idea of you being with someone else made his skin crawl. He’d essentially gone to every guy in that class to threaten to kill them if they even looked at you, he didn’t care if you weren’t his girlfriend anymore, he just needed some more time. He just needed you.

The only time you two interacted was during tennis sessions. You were being coached by the same person, so he made you do matches against each other. The last 4 weeks had been full of electrifying matches, often ending in Art smashing a racket or you stalking off in anger. 

But you were both playing so well. So, so well.

The matches were difficult and finally challenging. Art had never played so well, he was almost at your level, and even beat you a few times. Though, you were usually better. 

Once the rackets were packed away and you both left the court, it was like a scene in a romcom. Both of you wishing for the other, crying alone over one another, and wanting everything to be different. You regretted breaking up with him, but you knew you couldn’t take it anymore. His forgetfulness, his carelessness, his choices. He regretted breaking your heart. He missed you, your smile, your jokes, your laughs, your pretty face, your cute habits, your hands on his skin, the way you loved him, how he felt loved and wanted. Some things he’d never felt before. You were his first serious relationship, his first love, his first everything.

It came to the day of your final match against Serena O’Brien, an English tennis player. You were ready, you felt good. 

Then you looked into the crowd and saw Art, and everything went to shit. Your mind was clouded, you felt sick, you felt betrayed. Seeing him at school was one thing, that was controlled, you knew you’d see him at school. Seeing him here? Uncontrolled, unknown, and unfair.

You set your sights on the ball. The match started. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “That was some real tennis!” Your coach shouted, ecstatic at your win. The match was hard fought but she didn’t exactly have a chance, not when you were imagining the ball as Art’s face. 

“Thanks,” you smiled, though there was no happiness behind it, no pride in your win. Art walked onto the court behind him, an apologetic smile on his face. Art had noticed your changing habits in recent weeks as he tried to win you back. You were more irritable, less ‘there’, you ate less, you trained more, you stopped doing some of the things you actually enjoyed, like the literature class you just sat in on every Tuesday afternoon, or the cat nursery you used to volunteer at. 

But today, today he had a plan. He would speak to you, tell you he loved you and that he was sorry, then let you go. It’s what you deserved. You deserved someone who didn’t pick anyone else over you. You deserved someone as smart as you. You deserved someone as beautiful as you. You deserved someone as kind as you. You deserved someone as caring as you. You deserved an equal. Art did not see himself as equal to you. 

“That was amazing,” he smiled at you, walking onto the court. “You’re incredible.”

Your face fell. You didn’t want him to think your tennis was ‘incredible’, you wanted him to think you were incredible. “Thank you.”

“Can we talk?” He asked, itching the back of his neck and looking down.

“Sure,” you shrugged. All your anger had left the second you shut the door in his face. It was replaced by hurt and sadness. Feeling like you’re not your boyfriend’s priority is awful. Knowing who his priority actually is was worse. 

Art took your hand tentatively, and led you to the room you’d sat in before the match. He sat on a stack of boxes as you leant against the door beside him. His hand in yours made both of you reminiscent, electrified, and sad, all at the same time. His soft hands felt comfortable, familiar, right. 

Your hand in his felt blasphemous. You were so… perfect, he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve this conservation, he didn’t deserve a moment of your time, yet you gave him it. He didn’t want to ruin it, 

There was a long moment of silence. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he held your hand. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s ok Art, people break up-”

“We don’t. We shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have let it happen, I love you too much for that,” he sniffled and your heart broke in two. Your boy, your sweet, kind Art was crying. 

“I’m such an idiot,” he whispered, looking down at the ground. He was trying to keep it together, but he’d never been good at hiding things when it came to you. Your thumb brushed back and forth on his skin, calming him. It made him cry all the harder, you were so caring, he’d hurt you so much, so deeply. And yet, you showed him a kindness he didn’t believe he deserved. “I’m such a fucking idiot.” 

“Art it just wasn’t working,” you sighed. “It’s alright. It’s no one’s fault.”

“It’s my fault,” He looked up at you with red-rimmed eyes, tears spilling from them. You took your hand and cupped his cheek, wiping them away. He leaned into your touch as if he'd missed it for an eternity. As if  he’d missed you for an eternity. Your hand on his cheek burned straight to his heart. Subconsciously he tried to commit the feeling to memory, in case this was the last time. “It’s all my fault.”

“You can’t beat yourself up about it. What we had was so good for so long. It just… there was too much going on, something had to give,” You bit your bottom lip to try and stop the tears falling from your eyes. The devastated expression on his face broke you. “I love you so much Art, but I’m hurt. So are you. You’ll be alright.” 

Art looked at you again and he started sobbing into your side, wrapping his arms around your waist. You looked up, attempting to preserve your composure. “I’m so sorry,” he cried into your side. “I love you so much. I love you so, so much.”

“I love you too much,” you croaked out. “You’re such a good person.”

That made Art cry harder. You still thought he was a good person after he hurt you. You still thought he deserved your love. You still loved him. You were comforting him, telling him it wasn’t his fault. It was all his fault. He was horrible to you, he was a bad boyfriend. 

“I miss you,” you whispered and his heart stopped. His plan was going awfully. You were too kind, too good for him. You should’ve hated him, yet you didn’t.

“I miss you too,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your hip. 

“This sucks,” you sadly chuckled as you allowed the tears to roll down your face. 

“It does,” he whispered against you. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s alright Art. We’re still friends, we’ll take care of each other, yeah?” You looked down at him and made eye contact. 

“Promise?” He whispered, holding his pinky finger up.

“Promise,” You whispered, interlocking your fingers. “I’m always here for you.”

“I love you,” he stood up beside you, closer than he probably should’ve been. His hands wrapped around your waist and out of pure instinct, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. He tasted like salty tears. You wiped his face again, a sad smile on your face. 

“We’re here for each other,” you swore. 

“Always.”

You opened the door behind you and walked out, making it the second hardest thing you’d even done, right after breaking up with him. 

He fell back into his seat, crying silently into his hands, chest heaving, eyes spilling, throat drying. 

He just made it 1000 times worse for himself, and you.

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art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

#art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #challengers #art challenge #zendaya #zenday coleman #josh oconnor #mike faist x reader #mike faist #x reader #x you angst #x you #x you fluff #fem reader #x gn reader #x female reader #reader insert #fluff #angst

[misserabella]

I was wondering if maybe you can do vampire!reader x sub!loser!ellie??

more

ellie williams x female reader

cw; +18 content, minors dni, toe curling smut, reader is not described, not her skin or hair or body, i didn’t put her as masc or fem either, dom! vampire! reader x sub! ellie, masturbation (ellie), blood kink, prey kink (??), a lil tiny bit of angst (if we can call it that), biting (multiple bites), blood drinking, blood, overstimulation, premature ejaculation, multiple orgasms, fingering (ellie receiving), oral sex (ellie and reader receiving), cum eating, dirty talking, praising, begging, needy horny ellie, crying, face riding, multiple orgasms (ellie cums like 5 times), dirty hard sex, praising, calling ellie good girl, ass slapping (1), scissoring, ellie rides reader, hair pulling (both receiving)(reader has pullable hair), hickeys, tit and nipple play…

(okay this got a lil out of hand)

important !!!!!

how you can help palestine

why you shouldn’t buy tlou 2 remastered!!

aw she’s so sweet. and such a nerd.

since she found out you were a vampire she started investigating, looking up every website, reading through every mythology book, engulfing every last spec of information she could find. she found out the sun light actually hurt your eyes? she’d buy you the best sunglasses out in the market. that some foods were better for you than others? she was buying all of them and burning herself on the stove trying to cook.

but of course, there were some things she found out that she couldn’t exactly talk about with you.

“the bite of a vampire acts as an aphrodisiac on the prey to avoid them running away.”

as an aphrodisiac? she frowned, reading further down the article.

“the bite of a vampire on humans acts like a drug, leaving the human unable to fight the predator. instead, they could get addicted to it. studies show the increase of libido in the human after the bite takes effect.”

“oh…” now she was blushing. one of her hands unconsciously touching her neck, caressing it, lost on the words.

you’d drank blood from people before, obviously, there was actually a place that sold it for vampires in need so they wouldn’t risk hurting humans while feeding. but you and ellie had never talked about the possibility of you drinking from her.

the first time you saw her you felt your world stop, in over your 400 years of existence you’d never felt your cold dead heart beat, but as her green eyes found yours you swore it had. it was stupid, really, how you two had found each other, bumping on one another on a rainy night as ellie tried to quickly get home before she would catch a cold. she was everything. and she smelled so good… you felt your fangs in need to poke out of your gums once her essence met your senses, you could almost taste the raging sweet blood that pumped through her veins as she apologized for not have been paying attention.

you told her she could make it up to you over dinner.

you though about drinking from ellie daily. there was no way of escaping the need of burying your fangs on the tender and soft skin of her neck once you’d find yourself over her, slowly fucking your hips against hers, sucking bruises wherever your mouth could reach. it was primal, the thirst that would overcome you. it was horrid, the hunger you fought day and night to not taste her, terrified of hurting her somehow.

“subjects affirm having been able to reach orgasm without more stimuli other than the bite of their lover.”

with a blush tinting her cheeks she was hurriedly closing her laptop, feeling her whole body flushing.

of course she has noticed. the brushing of your sharp pearls against her skin while you buried her on the sheets was not easy to ignore. she’d tug at your hair at the feeling, her head tilting to the side to expose her neck for you. it was almost an invitation, unconscious, maybe.

but if it was… why was the idea of you biting her turning her on?

she bit down on her lip, sighing as she felt that well-known tingling grow in between her legs. she pushed her laptop aside on the bed.

you weren’t home. you wouldn’t be for a couple of hours. work duties.

a silent moan left her lips as one of her hands slowly trailed down her stomach and boxers —since she was only wearing that and a shirt on your shared apartment— cupping her pussy, which was getting more soaked by the minute.

she closed her eyes, teasing herself through the cloth, biting down on her bottom lip. she thought of you, of your sweet voice and your soft eyes that would sharpen once you’ve caged her under yourself, looking down at her like a predator would do with prey.

‘so pretty… you look so pretty like this for me.’

her free hand came up to her breasts, squeezing, groping, pulling up her shirt to have better access to her sensitive perky nipples.

‘i bet you’re so wet for me… let me see baby.’

she pulled her underwear off, exposing her drooling cunt to the air. she’d remember how you’d groan at the sight, pupils blown, tongue licking your lips, hungry to taste her. you’d always compliment her about how good she tasted, spending hours in between her legs, lapping at her folds, sucking at her puffy clit until she’d cry from the overstimulation.

and yet your thirst wouldn’t disappear.

ellie wondered if she could satiate you with her blood. she wondered what your reaction would be once it would fill your mouth, warm and thick…

“fuck…” she moaned, plunging two of her fingers inside her pulsing walls, thrusting a couple of times to come back out and tease her throbbing clit, arching her back.

she was soaked, so soaked she could hear herself, the sound of her fingers teasing through her pinkish folds.

‘can you hear her? she’s begging for it. so cute, and i haven’t even fucked you yet.’

she whimpered your name, her thighs trembling as she rubbed herself.

and that was when it came to her mind. your lips on her neck, your fangs against her skin, ready to bite, ready to suck her dry.

and just with the thought of it she was moaning non-stop, her high hitting her like a million bricks as she squirmed at her own touch against her clit, soaking the sheets under her body.

-

after that newly found information, ellie became quieter around you. she was always lost in thought, fern green eyed dozing off into the distance, her pinkish bottom lip caged in between her teeth. she’d grown shy, avoidant, pulling away early on your kisses, blushing and squirming when your mouth would reach her neck, and quickly —against her will— finding something to get busy with, maybe the dishes, or the laundry.

it left you confused to say the least, wanting, daunted. why was she avoiding you? at first you thought she just wasn’t in the mood, something you could understand, but you could hear her heartbeat, smell the arousal pool in between her legs, feel her need.

so why?

it was late at night when she got back to your apartment, lately she seemed to be avoiding you like the plague, taking extra shifts or hanging out with dina and jesse when you’d be free and home.

she was silent with it, softly stepping inside and closing the door. you had to give it to her, had been normal you wouldn’t have noticed it, too deep in slumber. but you weren’t normal. and you weren’t asleep.

she jumped when she noticed you, lurking in the shadows not under the moonlight.

“fuck.” she sighed, a hand against her heart. “you scared me.” you crooked your head, stepping closer to her spot beside the door. you were a true predator, eyes dark and movements smooth, calculated. “what are you doing up? it’s late.” she nervously chuckled, her heart beating faster as you approached her, making her back away against the door. “what…-“

“why are you avoiding me, ellie?” you inquired her, voice low, sultry. captivating yet dangerous. her mouth gaped like a fish’s.

“m…me? avoiding you? i’m not…”

“you are.” you looked at her up and down. she looked pretty, with a green tank top and navy blue jeans with her beaten up converse. “you know i can hear your heartbeat baby…” you slowly said, your fingers trailing down the pulse on her neck, making goosebumps explode on her skin, her breath shudder. “there’s no use in lying to me.” she harshly swallowed, her greenish eyes looking everywhere but you. “you know how difficult it is to control myself when you prance around smelling so damn wet?” the hand on her neck came up to her jaw, gripping it to direct her towards you. “look at me.” she did. you were so close your lips were almost touching. her eyes fluttered when you slightly brushed them against hers, making her follow after your touch, but you kept her in place, making her slightly whine. “tell me why you’ve been teasing me. i know you want it too.” one of your hands came down her body, stopping in between her legs to cup her pulsing desperate cunt. “i can smell you soaking those pretty panties of yours.” she blushed. so hard even the tip of her ears went vermillion. you cooed at the tiny whimper she let out.

“please…” she begged, and you caressed her bottom lip with your thumb.

“tell me what you want. you know how to use your words. be a good girl.”

“i want you to bite me.”

you swore your ears were deceiving you. your eyes widened at her words, staring at her for what it seemed minutes before you pulled away from her, your cold blood turning into ice.

“no.”

ellie almost whined at the loss of your touch, maybe at your answer.

“please.”

she stepped towards you, a pout pulling from her features, hands on your shoulders trailing down your your chest, surrounding your neck, exposing her own to you. your eyes momentarily met her soft pale skin, the pulsing vein on the crook of her shoulder and neck. you could almost taste it. thick and heavy in your mouth.

“ellie.” you harshly closed your eyes, fighting the need of your gums to break your gums. “i could hurt you.”

“i can take it.” she promised, one of her hands cupping your cheek to make you look at her. “i want this.” you groaned. “i want you.” your lips brushed, and your tongue came harshly into her mouth as her own needy crashed against yours. she moaned as your hands came down to her thighs, pulling from her to jump and surround your waist to move the two of you to your bedroom.

you fell backwards onto the bed with her on your lap. she was desperate, hungry for your touch after so long without relief. but you were starving.

“‘s this why you were avoiding me? poor thing just was too shy to ask?” she nodded, biting onto her bottom lip. “fuck. you’re killing me. you smell so fucking good…” you hid your face on her neck, leaving soft kisses on her skin, making the green eyed girl crook her head aside to give you more space.

“please… bite me. please.” she pleaded, one of her hands on your hair, tugging, doe eyes teary in need. you wanted to ruin her.

“shit. are you sure? i could-“

“please.” she nodded, pulling you closer to her pulse. you groaned, your fangs breaking your gums as you felt your hunger kick in, your want.

you left a last soft kiss on her skin before your teeth came crashing down against it, puncturing it. a deep moan left your throat when it hit you. the metalic, warm and sweet taste of her warm filling your mouth.

if ellie smelled good, she tasted heavenly.

the auburn haired let out the most beautiful and pornographic whimper once she felt it, her whole body going numb yet exploding in sensitivity at the feeling of your bite. it only hurt for a second, before the effects of the bite rushed through her body. before she knew it she was thrusting against your hips, pulling you closer, feeling an adrenaline rush, her body shake and her pussy throb, slick quickly pooling in between her lips and drenching her panties. she felt it coming. you hadn’t even touched her and yet she was so close to an orgasm…

she moaned your name, and you grunted, pulling away to look at her flushed face and hazy eyes. she looked completely fucked out, neck glistening in her crimson blood.

you smirked when you saw her squirm under your touch on her hips, going up and down her thighs. “that feel good, baby?”

she bit down on her lip, nodding.

“more. please. touch me, please.” she begged, rocking her hips against yours, what made you moan. she felt like she was gonna die if you didn’t touch her.

“you want me to touch you, pretty girl?” she nodded once again, raising her arms for you to take off her tank top, exposing her perky breasts and rosy nipples, to which you attached to.

“fuck…” she ground herself on your lap, anxiously and hurriedly taking care of your own top.

“you’re gonna be the death of me.” you grunted, flipping her over and pushing her against the duvet to take her pants and panties off, your pupils blown out at the sight of her drooling pussy. she whined when she felt your fingers slide in between her folds, screamed when, with just a mere touch against her clit she was falling over the edge. your stomach turned, and if your heart beat you were sure it would’ve skipped one of its jumps. your eyes were widened as you watched her come down from it in heavy pants, her cheeks turning red at the realization that she had came with just a mere graze.

“fuck…” she muttered, hiding her face from you behind her hands. you quickly removed them. so turned on you swore your whole body was aching in need to have her.

“don’t you dare hide from me. not when you look so pretty when you cum.” ellie’s teary eyes watched you crawl down her body to position yourself in between her legs, your hungry eyes transfixed on her cum soaked cunt. you couldn’t wait to clean her creamy release with your tongue. “i want to watch you do it over and over and over again.” your irises turned red as you stared into her fern ones, watching her back arch and her jaw fall when your fangs dug into the soft pale skin of her thigh. a loud moan broke her throat. your eyes closed as her sweet blood filled your mouth and warmed your own throat. you hummed, your hips thrusting against the bed. “fuck. i want to devour you.” you growled, your mouth moving from her thigh to her soaked cunt, lapping at her cum with a panting mouth. you thought nothing could be better than her blood. but her cum with her blood? you were sure that, if not been immortal, you would have died right there and then. ellie screamed your name, her legs closing around your head as you hungrily ate her out, your hands coming up to her thighs to push them apart and give you more space. she was squirming like crazy, moaning and whimpering, crying. she was so overstimulated already… “quit moving.”

“oh my god. ohmygodohmygodohmygod…” she mumbled. “i’m gonna cum again!” she weeped as you sucked on her puffy and throbbing clit. you quickly retrieved one of your hands from her thighs to fuck her gaping drooling hole with two of your fingers. just one curl from them against her g spot and she was shaking, creaming all over them.

“fuuuck. that’s it. cum for me, baby. so fucking sweet.” you licked her clean, sucking at her clit and hearing her cry. her hands tugged from your hair, the heels of her feet anchoring themselves on the duvet to try and scape your mouth.

“too much. ‘s too much!” her high subsided just the slightest to start to build again at an incredible speed, making her cum again in a matter of seconds. you pulled away with a soaked gaping mouth.

“did you just cum twice?” you inquired, in awe, watching the fat tears that rolled down her strained and flushed face. you plugged your fingers out, watching her creamy release drip out of her hole. you crawled back up her body, cupping her face. she was dizzy in ecstasy, her pretty green eyes swelled with tears.

“more…” she pleaded, her hands on your hair, pushing you to her slightly bleeding neck, inviting you to sink your fangs back in, to suck her dry, give her more of that delirious pleasure.

you groaned.

“you’re killing me, you know that?”

you buried your face on the crook of her neck, licking up the little droplets of blood that seeped from the punctures on her skin before diving in, making her let out this pretty little sound.

her nails dug on your back, her own arching underneath you as her legs surrounded your hips, pulling you closer as she tilted her face to the side. “feels sooo gooood.” she slurred, whimpering when your hands came up to her perfect breasts, squeezing the fat in between your fingers. you wondered how much she could take, how much she could give you. ellie would let you drain the last drop of her blood out of her if that meant this feeling wouldn’t stop.

“need your pretty pussy on mine, baby. want to feel your cum dripping on it.” you sucked bruises on her skin, watching her nod. “can you be a good girl and do that for me?” your sultry voice asked against her ear, your hips giving a little thrust against hers, making the material of your jeans brush against her sensitive and puffy folds.

“yes.” she gasped, nodding, to what you left your place in between her legs, getting on your feet to unbuckle your jeans, but the auburn haired was quicker than you, her shaky pretty hands taking care of it and hurriedly pushing your panties and jeans down your legs for you to kick them away.

you moaned when you suddenly felt her mouth on you, her soft tongue lapping at your clit.

“oh fuck.” you cursed in a gasp, one of your hands coming down to her head, fingers lacing on her hair, to stabilize yourself. “what are you doing?” you moaned when you felt her suck on it, your eyes closing shut for a second before looking down at her.

“i’m hungry.” she muttered against your pussy. the sight in front of you was one to behold.

your girl was on her hands and knees, back arched for you, hazy drunk eyes looking up at you as she slowly glided her pink tongue in between your soaked lips. you gasped, pushing her further against your cunt once you’d put one of your legs up on the bed, foot against the sheets, bending your knee and opening your legs to give her better access.

“jesus christ.”

usually ellie would be shy, always asking for permission to take care of you, to touch you, to eat you. but now, she was taking what she wanted —no, what she needed— from you. and that was making your mind spiral.

her hands came up to grip at your hips and legs, making out dirtily with your cunt, looking at you, teasing you. “want you to fill my mouth.” she said before licking a fat strip from your hole to your clit, sucking at it and letting it go with a pop.

“yeah? you want me to cum in that pretty mouth of yours baby?” she nodded. “then stick out your tongue, gonna fuck myself with it.” she did as you said, flattening her tongue and moaning when your grip on her hair only tightened, bucking your hips against her tongue, perfectly rubbing your clit. “fuck. that’s it. such a good fucking mouth, doll.” she hummed, her nails digging on your flesh. “gonna give you all my cum baby. and you’re gonna be a good girl and swallow it, aren’t you ellie?” she nodded. you grunted, fucking yourself faster on her tongue. you were so riled up and sensitive… you weren’t gonna last. “shit. i’m gonna cum.” you moaned, and she eagerly lapped at your folds, pulling you closer by your ass cheeks to her face to make sure to not leave a single drop behind. “fuck!” you cursed as you felt the snap of your high on your lower stomach, moaning as you creamed all over her tongue, making her whimper. “take it. take it all.”

she slurped and licked you clean, fucking you through it until your breath stabilized.

after coming down, you let go of her, taking in her disheveled state; messy hair, dizzy eyes and shiny chin and lips. you got on the bed with her, laying on your back and spreading your legs.

“come over here. come and ride my pussy.” she crawled towards you, feeling her arousal dripping down her thighs. “give me your back, baby.” she followed your orders, feeling your hands on her hips as she got on her knees, hands against the sheets to lower herself until he was seating against your open cunt. the first touch was heavenly, making the two of you moan. “you’re so fucking wet…” you sighed as she started to move, back and forth against your pussy, her clit gliding in between your folds as yours did the same in between hers. “did eating me out turned you on that much, baby?” she whimpered, nodding, to what you gave her a slap in the ass. “use your words.”

“yes, mmh.”

“that feels good, pretty? feel good jumping on my clit?” her pace was picking up, her moans and cries getting louder. “so hot…” you grabbed at the fat of her cheeks, dragging her harder against your pussy. you could feel the cum from her previous orgasms coming out of her to drench your cunt, making a mess in between your thighs yet making it easier for her to fuck herself on you. “doing so good for me…”

she moaned your name, going faster, harder. “feels so good…” she cried, feeling a new orgasm starting to build inside of her due to the constant rubbing of her clit against your folds.

“yeah? gonna cum for me, ellie? gonna cream my pussy?” she nodded.

“yeah, fuck, yes. i’m so close. please…” you grunted, taking her hips with your hands and fucking her harder in between grunts. you too were close, still sensitive due to your recent orgasm.

“go ahead baby, cum for me, wanna see it drip.” with a scream, she was cumming for you, for the forth time that night, her ears ringing and sight blacking out at the intensity. this was not a normal orgasm. it was bigger. harder. it was breaking her apart.

you moaned at the sight of her pussy squirting all over yours, drenching your cunt and the sheets below your bodies. “fuuuck.” you couldn’t hold it in anymore, cumming along with her and fucking the two of you through it to extend her high as much as possible.

once you two came down, you rested against the head of the bed, capturing the auburn haired in between your arms, pressing her back against your naked chest.

you held her as she recovered her breath, caressing her tummy, her thighs… until…

“what are you…, mhh fuck!” she whimpered when she felt the sting of your fangs against the sensitive skin of her neck, her blood being drained out of her veins until her head felt dizzy. her thighs shook when your fingers met her swollen pretty little clit, your tongue licking the new punctures clean as you whispered on her ear.

“more.”

-

a/n: idk what to say😵‍💫😵‍💫

KEEP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE!!!!! 🇵🇸

#ellie #ellie x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x y/n #ellie smut #ellie williams fan fiction #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou imagine #tlou smut #tlou fluff #tlou2 #tlou x reader #tlou fanfic #tlou ellie #the last of us #the last of us x reader

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ 5 more minutes ] l. hughes

paring : Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary : Luke’s girlfriend surprises him in Newark after his last college hockey game

warning(s) : none really. just very fluffy and emotional. also very short bc it was 1 am when i came up w this idea

author’s note : in honor of today being my last day as an ncaa student athlete, i quickly wrote this up. i was feeling very emotional and i needed a way to express how i felt. hence why we now have a very fluffy / emotional fic. some of the comments luke makes are some of my thoughts about how my own season ended yesterday. it’s kinda sad but it had to be done. you’re welcome (i think ?)

༺═──────────────═༻

Jack texts her when he has picked up his younger brother from the airport. She begins to pace around the living room of Jack’s apartment that he’s now going to be sharing with Luke.

She has no clue what state Luke is going to be in when he walks through the door. He’s probably going to be so pissed that he spent the last two minutes or so of his college career in the penalty box instead of on the ice or on the bench with his teammates. He’s been so busy traveling that he hasn’t had time to sit and reflect on the season.

That’s the reason that she hopped on a flight to Newark as soon as the clock hit zero against Quinnipac. She just wanted to make sure that he’s okay before he goes and signs his NHL contract in two days and joins Jack on the Devils.

Either he’s going to be really upset and pissed or he’s going to be excited to start the next chapter in his career. She has no idea which version of Luke she’s going to get.

Keys jingle in the door about a half hour after Jack texts her to let her know he has Luke. She stops pacing and stands in the middle of the living room. Her eyes are on the door as Jack pushes it open.

“… not really in the mood for any surprises,” Luke says as he walks through the door. “I’m so tired.”

“I think you’ll like this one,” Jack tells his brother as he shuts the door behind them. Luke drops the big duffel bag that contains his hockey gear on the floor by the door in the foyer area. Then he finally makes his way to the living room with his suitcase.

He freezes mid-step when he sees his girlfriend.

With a small wave and a smile, she says, “Hi, Lukey.”

Luke crosses the room in five strides because of his stupidly long legs. He envelops her in a hug and buries his face in her neck. She wraps her arms around his torso and they stand like that for what feels like an eternity.

She doesn’t mind. If it means that Luke’s okay then she’ll stand like this forever.

She presses soft kisses into his shoulder and whispers to him, “I’m so proud of you, Luke. So incredibly proud of you. I know that’s not how you wanted the season to end but you did everything you could, and for that I am so, so proud of you.”

A quiet sob wracks Luke’s body as he pulls back from the hug. She sees tears in his eyes and frowns. A couple roll down his cheek and she reaches up to wipe them away. Jack silently sneaks out of the apartment. He thinks he’s slick but she saw him leave behind Luke.

“I hated that I wasnt out there those last two minutes,” he tells her, voice shaky. “Maybe I could’ve done something that pushed the game into overtime or won it for us. Instead I was in the penalty box while my team had to fight even harder to get goals because they were down a man.”

“I know, baby,” she softly replies. “I wish I could’ve given you guys five more minutes. You all fought so hard. So fucking hard. I’m so sorry that’s how your season ended.”

More tears roll down Luke’s cheeks and she continues to wipe them away.

“I feel like I let them down,” he whispers. “I could’ve fought harder for them. For this season. I let them down when they needed me most and now I’m abandoning them.” His words break her heart.

She shakes her head and cups his jaw. “You didn’t let anyone down,” she tells him. “You did what you could in the sixty minutes you had. They know that and they will always remember how hard you fought for them. You’re so important to everyone on that team and you played such an important role in getting as far as you did as a team. They’re just as proud of you as I am because you are about to start an amazing new chapter in your hockey career. You aren’t abandoning them, Luke. They want you to move forward in your career. They understand that you’re ready and that this is what you want.”

Luke nods and wraps his hands around her wrists. She continues to look up at her boyfriend.

She’ll never understand how he feels because she isn’t an athlete. All she can do now is try to help him realize that he isn’t the worst teammate that he thinks he is at the moment. She doesn’t want him to have that mindset as he transitions from college to the NHL.

Losing is tough in any sport. She knows that much and she is going to make sure that Luke understands that it is okay to feel this way but that he also has to get ready to move forward.

“Thank you for being here,” he says after a moment of comfortable silence. “Sorry I’m such a mess. I didn’t think it would affect me this much.”

“It just shows how much you love every team that you’re on,” she replies. “You dedicate so much time to hockey because you love it. You’re allowed to feel this way and feel it for a little bit. You do have a contract to sign in a few days so I’m giving you tonight to get out everything you feel about the Michigan season ended. Tomorrow, it’s time to get excited. I’m here to help you get excited.”

A smile finally cracks through the frown that’s been plastered on Luke’s face since he saw her. She dries his cheeks one more time before she pulls him back into a hug.

Luke presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. “I love you,” he says into her hair. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Shut up. Yes you do,” she retorts. “I love you too. Let’s go get you unpacked then we can take a nap because I heard you tell Jack how tired you are.”

When she pulls away from the hug and starts to walk to his suitcase, Luke grabs her hand and pulls her back to him. She looks up at him for a quick second before his lips are on hers. The kiss surprises her because of how emotional he is, but sometimes a kiss is all it takes to feel better.

She happily smiles into the kiss and runs her fingers through his curls as she returns it. It’s one of his favorite things she does so many he’ll start to feel better a little faster. Luke loves feelings her fingers in his curls. It’s the reason he doesn’t try to tame them.

The front door opens again and a voice says, “Okay, we are establishing some rules. Rule one, the door stays open three inches when your girlfriend is over. I don’t need any babies crying in my apartment at three in the morning right now.”

They both pull back and she looks behind Luke at Jack, who has a disgusted look on his face. She smiles but Luke’s cheeks turn a tomato red. She laughs and shakes her head.

“Rule two,” Jack continues. “No making out anywhere I can see you. That means the-”

“Jack!” Luke snaps. “I get it. We get it. Also, I’m not going to be leaving my door open three inches. If I want to have sex with my girlfriend then I’m going to. It’s my room and we split the rent now so I’ll do what I want.”

“None of that premarital kissing stuff where I can see or hear it,” Jack tells his brother. “I don’t need that in my life.”

She laughs and takes the opportunity to grab Luke’s bag and suitcase. “Don’t worry,” she says. “We won’t traumatize you. Again.”

Both Luke and his girlfriend laugh as they make their way to Luke’s new room, leaving a disgusted and definitely traumatized Jack Hughes in the living room.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #umich hockey fic #umich fic #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fluff

[greatstormcat]

A Reason To Go On - Part 1

Stalker!Ghost x f!reader

TW: MDNI 18+, stalking & obsessive behaviour, dub/con, mental health issues

Authors note: this came about following a series of drabbles which I’ve put links to below which may be useful to read beforehand. Written in one sitting and not edited!

Drab 1 Drab 2 Drab 3 Drab 4 Drab 5

AO3 version where everything has been merged

Series Masterlist

Simon sat looking across the kitchen table at Price, both nursing barely touched glasses of bourbon. The surface was immaculately clean, having never been used since it was bought a few months ago. Like much of the items and furniture in the little flat he now called home. Price was looking at him, waiting for him to speak, and the silence was eating up the last of the air in the room.

“Is it really that bad, Simon?” Price prompted him, his tone serious and maddeningly sympathetic. He was always Simon now, Ghost was gone, dead and buried the way he should have stayed all those years ago. He hadn’t even touched a balaclava since he left, using a black medical mask instead when he felt the need.

“No, not really,” Simon shrugged, turning the glass on the table idly. He didn’t look up at his Captain, no that was wrong, his ex-Captain. “Been keeping myself busy reading, exercise, you know,” he finished dismissively.

“You’ve kept up with that therapist?” Price asked, knowing the answer was most likely going to be a negative.

“Sure,” Simon lied. He hadn’t been to any appointments with a therapist since his medical discharge, and he would rather… No, can’t finish that thought as that’s what got him into this mess in the first place. Chucked out on civvy street with a fat pension and nothing to do, no purpose to serve after all these years. At least Price had arranged the pension so he didn’t have to worry about his name getting into circulation, not with his past. The flat was rented under a pseudonym and paid for by some shady forces protection scheme. He didn’t need that catching up with him now.

“Look, I’m settled in and getting myself sorted. You don’t need to come all the way here and check on me,” Simon grumbled, not bothering to hide how much he resented Price these days. He hadn’t fought for him, hadn’t tried to keep him on the Taskforce when that shrink had stamped his file as unfit for duty. Anger issues, poor impulse control, danger to self and others. Price huffed and knocked back his drink. These visits always ended the same, full of regret and bitterness.

“Okay, son,” he said, getting up and looking around the barely furnished flat one last time. “I’ll let you be, but I’ll be back when I can. Why not think about what I said though, try and get a hobby, something to focus on.”

Price left soon after and Simon finished his glass before heading towards the spare bedroom, his office as he liked to think of it. He’d found his left a purpose, no thanks to Price. He had a reason to carry on now, and it meant everything to him. Flicking on the lightswitch the rows and rows of photographs on the wall were illuminated, all showing images of you at various times since he had first seen you.

With a smile he relaxed into the chair by the desk, looking up at the photos. You were his life now, he was dedicated to taking care of you. Since that first day he’d seen you he had dealt with your worthless ex-boyfriend, making sure the little shit stain never bothered you again, scared off several unworthy bastards in the pub you met your friends in, and put some small security cameras in the downstairs areas of you house so he could check on you from his laptop.

You were the focus of his every waking moment, and even when he slept now he pictured you in his dreams and woke hard and throbbing. At the start of this he had sworn to himself he would keep his distance, not let you know he existed so he didn’t burden you with his problems. But it was getting harder and harder not to sit and imagine what the touch of your hand would be like, you were a brave and kind soul, would you turn him away if he spoke to you?

That was why he had answered the note on your coffee table. The chance to make a connection to you was too great a temptation, and he let himself slip and grab the chance. This would be a slippery slope.

As midnight nears he makes his nightly pilgrimage to your house, his motorbike left at the end of your road before he walks closer, not wanting to disturb you with the noise. The footholds he made in your garden wall months ago allow him to quickly and quietly scale the wall, and he fishes out the key he copied for your back door, letting himself into your kitchen. He cocks his head and listens carefully making sure you aren’t moving around upstairs, and he hears nothing.

By now, he knows to look at the notepad on the table in the living room. There’s always a small note written there since he’d replied to the message you’d left all those weeks ago. Tonight, however, the pad is missing and he feels a pang in his heart. Why haven’t you left a note tonight? Has your tolerance for him dried up now? He feels a creeping fear, another loss looming in his future that he isn’t ready to cope with, not when he has already lost so much in the past.

He moves up the stairs, having memorised where to step and where to avoid so no creaks come from the wood. Your bedroom is at the top, and he has spent many hours sat in the hallway outside your bedroom door just to listen to the steady sound of your breathing. More than once you’ve gone to the bathroom and walked right past him, never bothering with putting on lights at night. He looks through the open doorway, a thin beam of light shining through the gap in the curtains and across your form under the bed covers.

Tonight though, your breathing sounds different, and he realises you aren’t asleep in the darkness. When you sit up, he freezes.

“You’re there, aren’t you?” you say to the darkened bedroom, absolutely certain you can hear soft breathing in the shadows by the door. You’re still not sure who or what you’re talking to, but you know that there is someone listening to you.

Simon remains calm. It's the first time you’ve spoken directly to him and he can’t quite process the fact that the object of his desires has come this close to actually perceiving him. Both the last thing in the world he wanted, and the one thing he has needed more than anything in his entire life. For several heartbeats he wrestles with himself deciding wether to answer you or not.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he finally answers, deep voice carrying around the room easily. He watches you carefully in the thin slither of light, sees your tiny flinch as you hear him and the involuntary swallow in your throat, but you don’t panic.

“Will you tell me why you’re here?” You ask, unable to hide the slight tremble in your voice. You’re so brave, his heart swells with pride at how you handle waking up to a strange man in your house, your very bedroom. You’d have made an amazing soldier.

“Just checkin’ you’re okay. I check on you a lot,” he admits.

“How long have you been doing this?” He can see a frown on your features, you’re trying to piece this all together now.

“Few months,” he answers with a shrug of his shoulders which draws your attention. You see the movement and realise just how large the shape in the shadows is, your eyes going wider in shock. His frame fills the doorway in width and height, and a tiny voice in your head tells you that you should be terrified, but you aren’t. If this man meant you harm you’d be dead already, months ago apparently. Instead he was getting into your house and doing the stuff that, and you feel your brain stutter at this thought, a boyfriend would do.

“Okay, and you’ve been doing more than that haven’t you? You’ve been following me around and helping me out haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” he replies.

“Why?”

“Wanna keep you safe, and happy,” he grunts with a frown, not wanting to dwell on that question.

“You could do that without breaking into my house, without hiding yourself from me.”

“I didn’t really want to bother you, I don’t need anyone to take care of me and it’s just easier this way,” he tells you, hearing how hollow his own words sound to his ears.

“Look, I really appreciate everything you’ve been doing, but this isn’t… normal,” you say, hugging your knees to your chest now as you settle into this off situation. Again, you tell yourself you should be screaming and calling the police but there is a sadness about this man that you can’t ignore. “Why don’t you come and sit with me and we can talk?”

“Wait,” comes his brusque reply, and your eyebrows raise. He steps back from the doorway and down the stairs, not nothing to mask his footsteps now, and returns with a scarf that was hanging at the bottom of the stairs in one hand. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, holding the scarf in one hand where you can see it.

“A blindfold. Why? Are you ugly?” you tease, the words hitting him like a bullet between the eyes and a smile forming across his face.

“Quite the opposite,” he replies, feeling warmth spread through his chest at such a poignant exchange of words. It's almost as though you knew…

You close your eyes. Listening carefully as you hear him moving closer, the faint rustling of fabric is just audible. A blindfold settles over your eyes, thick and heavy, blotting out anything you might have been able to see even in the darkness.

Then, and only then, do you feel the mattress dipping down a long way as he sits on the edge of the bed. Tentatively you lift one hand and blindly reach out to touch him, after a moment or two he takes your hand in his, warm fingers and a calloused palm encapsulating your own. On a whim, you pull, urging him to move closer to you. At first he resists, the bed shifts and for a moment you worry he is going to get up and leave, but you hold onto his hand and tug again. He relents and leans over towards you, and warm face rests against your shoulder, hair tickling your cheek, and you wrap your arms around huge shoulders.

It’s as though a dam breaks inside Simon, the moment you put your arms around him he melts against you, gently pushing you back against the mattress as he lies down beside you. One of his legs hooks over yours over the covers and his arm drapes over your stomach, pinning you into place as his face rests against the exposed skin at the crook of your neck.

You feel a hot rush of air leave his lungs, heating your neck, and a tiny groan tinged with such sadness escapes him. The sound plucks at your heart and you rub your cheek against his hair, encouraging him to nuzzle into you even further, as though we would climb into your chest if it were an option.

“What should I call you, now that we are finally talking? You already know my name,” you murmur.

“Ghost,” he replies, his lips tickling your skin as he speaks and a shiver runs down your spine.

“I thought you were a ghost to start with, so that’s appropriate,” you reply.

He grunts and touches his lips to your neck again, feeling you shudder again as he is draped over you. He tried a small kiss, his control evaporating by the second as you respond to him to readily, and when you sigh softly it vanishes. He kisses you desperately, moans accompanying every movement of his lips until his mouth is on yours, hot and needy. From the darkness of the blindfold you kiss him back, hands framing the face you cannot see and the weight of his body shifting until you are crushed into the mattress below you.

The bed covers are pulled away from you, cool air reaching through the thin fabric of the T-shirt you are wearing until his warmth settles against you, pushing your knees apart so his clothed erection presses against your crotch. He humps you through his clothes, a frantic and needy action as his kisses continue to burn your mouth with their ferocity.

Little moans and whines escape you as you let him drink his fill of you, the amount of passion he has for you like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. You hands trace over his shoulders, tracing firm muscle as he lifts your T-shirt and kisses down you body, stopping to grope roughly at your breasts before he kisses across your stomach to your underwear.

His mouth moves across the fabric, hot and hungry, pressing into your folds and causing arousal to flood through you. The wetness is unmissable as he grinds his face into you, fingers digging into your thighs. You hear a zip being undone.

“No, wait,” you try to slow him down by putting your hands on his chest but he is too far gone now, muttering praises and words of adoration like he is reciting a memorised prayer. Your underwear is pulled down roughly, stinging your legs as he drags it down carelessly and the tip of his erection is pressed against your dripping cunt before you have time to think again.

Simon presses into you, his head hanging from his shoulders loosely as he focuses on the sensation of your heat enveloping his cock. He shudders and pauses when he is halfway in, looking to your face and wishing he could see your eyes, but that would be too much for him and he knows it. Your mouth gapes open, back arched and you whimper when he slowly thrusts forward again.

“Fuck… your perfect,” he whispers, watching his length disappearing inside of you. “So perfect for me.” When he hilts himself in your cunt he leans down and kisses your neck again, hands gripping your shoulders so you are totally surrounded by his body, entirely surrounded and filled by him. Your arms are trapped between your chest and his, leaving you no way to move with his weight on top of you. He pulls his hips back, almost completely pulling out before slowly pushing back in, sparking intense pleasure as you feel his thickness stretching you open. Every vein and ridge of his cock can be felt, and when he bottoms out again he presses against your cervix and you whine at the sensation.

“Its okay,” he whispers, kissing your neck and nipping at your skin as he holds you tightly, not letting you move as you lay in total blindness while he slowly fucks you. “Everythings fine, this is so good, you feel so good.” His hips begin to snap against yours as he picks up the pace, the pleasure from each thrust bleeding into the next as he speeds up until you’re riding a never ending wave of electricity. The sounds of his skin on yours mix with his grunts and praises, creating a filthy symphony of sounds around you.

The pressure against your clit spurs your impending orgasm, and you rock your hips to chase the release, coaxing him to thrust harder into your aching hole.

“Gonna cum,” he starts to moan, “gonna cum in you.” He repeats it over and over, his voice cracking as he speaks, and the words push you over the edge. Your cunt grips and clenches onto his cock as you cum, crying out his name and with a harsh groan he pours himself into you.

His head falls into the crook of your neck as he catches his breath and after a while carefully pulls his softening cock out of you, making you wince.

“Shit, did I hurt you?” He asks, going still as he hovers over you.

“No it’s okay. You just have… large equipment,” you say weakly, and feel a kiss on your cheek.

“I’m sorry I didn’t, you know, ask about that first,” he says, frowning at himself as he lowers himself beside you on the bed. He’s meant to be protecting you not taking advantage of you, but it felt so good. He feels wetness on his cheeks and wipe his face with the back of his hand.

“It was intense,” you say, “but it’s fine, don’t worry.” You turn and press yourself into him, this large and solid man that you don’t know, but trust for no good reason. He stays a while longer until you fall asleep, but when you wake up with your morning alarm he is gone. The scarf is neatly folded up on the bedside table, a scrap of paper with a phone number written on it ontop with the words ‘if you need me’ written under them.

When you go downstairs he has even put out a mug and teabag by the kettle for you, locking the door as he had left.

Taglist @ghosts-cyphera @katamari-possum @kkaaaagt @n1ght4ngel

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[qwimchii]

𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘴 (pt 3) — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5

𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺. 𝘸𝘤 — 7.5𝘬

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘸𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘯𝘯𝘯, 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 & 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵/𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴���𝘦𝘯𝘵 (𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳), 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵/𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨??

note: next part... i liked writing this one 🤭 also for all those wondering: yes the blonde mildly passive aggressive alpha woman is kate laswell <3 i love her with my everything

you rubbed at the temple of your forehead, trying and failing to keep it all together as you watched Simon sew a patch of fabric against a hole in a little pumpkin costume.

biting back a sigh, you fought the heavy frustration on your tongue as you reached over to him, numb to the sensation of your hands brushing against his gloved ones after the past hour of close proximity.

“like this,” you said in an even tone, demonstrating the stitch slowly, and he nodded, taking the needle, looking impossibly small between his fingers, and copied your movements.

leaning back again, you mulled over the day with a bitterness. 

when you pulled into the parking lot of the cafe on smith and wellerstation, you had already been having a shitty day, hands clutched tight around the leather grip of the steering wheel. you had spotted Simon, early as ever, by the front window of the cafe, hunched over and enveloped in black, scrolling through his phone.

for some reason, the sight of him only irked you more. and then it mixed in with that muddled feeling of guilt. or sympathy.

you had realized that you didn’t really know what you were feeling as you stepped into the cafe, a soft chime filling the half-vacant establishment. ordering a drink from a barista at the front counter, you glanced over your shoulder to find him staring back at you, ducking his head a little in greeting.

with a flush, you just snapped your head forward again to pay before picking up the steaming mug on the counter and carefully walking over to Simon, perched in a spacious booth that he easily filled.

you exchanged few words and a sorry excuse for a how are you that boiled down to you look tired and you do too. though it wasn’t unkind, you noted, a bit mournful of the fact that you had seen him three times within one week. two days in a row, no less.

pushing the thought away, you brushed your hair back and sat by him to dive into his first sewing lesson. he picked it up quickly, thankfully, and soon enough he was trying it on his own with a long, charged silence that simmered between you.

then, you had picked up your own supplies and a boy’s pirate costume, restitching the seam along the collar of the costume. 

all was well and silent until he suddenly broke the silence with a blunt remark. “where do you work?”

you glanced up at him with a stale feeling. all his attention was trained on the tiny costume in his big hands, a look of determination pinching his face. you almost laughed at the sight.

“at my dad’s auto shop.”

he nodded slowly. “you fix cars?”

“no,” you said, returning back to the pirate costume, “i do the finances for fixing the cars.”

you cleared your throat. “what about you? what do you do in the military?”

you could see him glance up at you in your peripheral. “it’s classified.”

brows flying up, and your head snapped up to look at him. “really?”

he made a strange noise between a huff and a snort. “no. i’m special ops. sas.”

“oh.”

you gazed into his face, which betrayed nothing, and shifted in your seat. did Simon Riley just joke with you?

for some reason, you felt one-upped in a strange way.

“does your occupation require you to wear…” you stared at his mask. “...masks?”

his brow furrowed for just a second, and he glared down at the pumpkin costume, but the pinched look smoothed away almost immediately. oops. you didn’t mean to piss him off.

“no. i can take it off if you want.”

“no, no,” you spluttered, feeling embarrassed, “whatever you’re comfortable with is fine with me.”

he just nodded slowly, and from the way his shoulders tightened, you could tell the short conversation had effectively ended. you wanted to smack yourself in the face, but instead you just took a sip of your hot drink with a quiet sigh, looking out the window of the cafe.

it was already getting dark in the late fall hours, the street lights twinkling in the night, brown and orange leaves swirling in the breeze across the sidewalk. you jumped when a familiar girl, clutching at her purse, and scot, hands shoved into his sweatpants, were walking side by side toward the cafe, locked in a riveting conversation.

you watched them enter with a half-dropped jaw, their conversation loud, chattery, and bubbly as it filled the now empty cafe. when Sarah spotted you in the booth beside Simon, she waved with an excitement that had your stomach curdling.

you sent her a weak smile back, looking at her, then to the man beside her. they both strode up and Johnny, like always, gave you a, “hey, lass! how you been doin’?”

you withered into your seat. “good.”

you looked to Sarah with narrowed eyes, expecting a good explanation for this… coincidence. Simon had stilled beside you, looking as equally peeved as you felt, staring up at the two of them.

Sarah must’ve sensed the terse energy in the room because she turned between you and Johnny nervously. “i was just looking for you at your apartment, but you weren’t there, but i happened to meet Johnny in the hallway, and he happened to be kind enough to show me the way to where you are, and—”

eyes flitting to Johnny, you tried to conceal the bitter boil in your stomach that spilled out into your face. snitch, you wanted to hiss at the innocent smile on his face, remembering how he had listened with an intensity to the conversation between you and Simon the other day.

then, Sarah dug around her bag and pulled out her phone, waving it around at you with a weak look. “you weren’t responding to my texts…”

you pulled out your phone, scrolling through the notifications, seeing that she had called you twice and sent about ten texts. oops.

you felt a bit more sympathetic for the guilt dripping off Sarah. 

“sorry,” you said, reaching across the table to pat her hand. “i was a bit busy teaching this guy how to sew.”

at that, Johnny’s brows rose slightly, but the look of shock on his face melted off his face as soon as it had been there. you just eyed him with suspicion.

Simon cut in, seeming like he wanted to change the topic of conversation, and said in that gruff, flat voice, “what do you need? is it an emergency?”

Sarah shook her head quickly. “no, no, i just wanted to tell you guys about last minute party plans for tomorrow night. since it’s going to be the weekend…?”

you cocked your head. “party plans for who?”

“for the group,” she said, then added, “but we can invite plus twos. it’s a little fall function at Iris’s place.”

then she gestured to Johnny in a friendly manner and a smile. “so i invited Johnny as well! since he’s your neighbor,” she said, gesturing to you, and then to Simon, “and Johnny’s your coworker! so i thought that’d be fun. right you guys?”

Johnny just grinned at Sarah. for a moment, there was a tense silence, before you exhaled out between gritted teeth. “why didn’t you just text me?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “i did. but i wanted to bring you these.”

she dug around her bag for a moment before sliding a tupperware box of frosted cookies that looked like mini-ghosts.

“a sample for the bake sale. i wanted you to be my taste tester,” she said with a wink, sharing a grin with Johnny, who looked perfectly content with the tense energy of the conversation.

“thanks,” you chewed out, staring down at the sugar cookies. you really were grateful. but with Simon’s presence flush by your side, and Johnny’s eyes darting around the cafe, and flitting over you, you just wanted to shrink away.

“i’ll see you tomorrow then?” she offered, and you nodded, feeling like you were chaining yourself to another death sentence when you said, “i’ll be there.”

Simon nodded beside you, and usually Sarah wouldn’t think it was enough to take that for a yes, but seeming that he barely seemed to talk at all, she gave you both a curt nod of satisfaction before bidding her goodbyes. Johnny gave you a quick farewell, slapping Simon on the back, then turned on his heel and followed Sarah out the cafe.

you both sat in a long unmoving silence, before Simon sighed out heavy and long by your side, taking up the pumpkin costume again. he embodied exactly how you felt, and in a silent truce for peace, you nudged over the tupperware of cookies to him.

he took one, flipping down his mask to eat it before pulling it back up again, and you just returned to your sewing, chewing on soft sugar cookies, a comfortable silence filling the space between you.

it was mid-evening—the setting sun filtering through the foggy clouds above and a teeth-chattering cold falling over the city as you pulled up along Iris’s block. 

all you knew about your fellow group therapy member was that she struck gold in college—married a rich guy and lived in a big suburban home. the kind that had a big pool in the back. the kind that you had always wanted as a kid, but ended up more often than not in your dad’s greasy auto repair shop for a good night’s sleep rather than your own home.

you turned off the ignition, sighing out, and lurched out of your car in slow and sluggish movements, making sure to grab the dish of food you made from the backseat. a childhood favorite that your mom used to make.

walking up the steps, you knocked on the big front door, rubbing at your hands, trying to build a friction between them as you shivered at the front door. when no one answered, you reached out to ring the doorbell when—

“cold?”

you jumped with a yelp, jerking around to see Simon standing a step behind you and his hands shoved into the pocket of his jeans. he still had that black surgical mask over the lower-half of his face, but he was wearing one of those leather jacket with a fur lining that looked military issued, dirty blonde hair strewn across his forehead.

he cleans up nicely, you realized with a dry swallow, immediately shaking the thought from yourself.

“Simon, you scared the shit out of me,” you hissed, clutching at the fast thud in your chest.

his eyes flashed, and you could tell he was smirking under that stupid mask of his. 

“sorry,” was all he offered, reaching around you to ring the doorbell. his chest brushed against your back and you flinched away from him with flushed cheeks.

you both waited in silence, the wind whistling through your ears, and you could feel him curling over to peer at the dish in your hands. stomach knotted, you twisted away to send him a contorted look.

“what?” you asked, eyes narrowed, suddenly defensive of the tupperware family recipe in your hands as you concealed it from view.

he blinked down at you before stepping back, staring sightlessly forward. “nothin’. smells good is all.”

your mouth dropped open to make a dry reply before the front door finally swung open.

“hey!” Iris greeted with a smile, donned in a fine cashmere sweater and leggings, holding a champagne flute. her husband poked his head out from behind her shoulder, wearing a freshly pressed button up and khaki pants.

you suddenly felt very underdressed in a cheap, thrifted dress.

“come on in,” he said with a sparkling smile, and you thought with a bitterness that he must be one of those guys who does stupid whitening strips or something, which was entirely ridiculous because you had tried them once before, but nonetheless…

“thank you for having us,” Simon said, filling in your silence. 

you glanced over at him, wishing you could say that you didn’t need him to speak for you. his eyes flitted over to you, offering nothing but a roll of his shoulders. a motion that you discerned as a dry, sardonic, whatever.

looking back at the party hosts, your brow quirked when you noticed Iris eyeing Simon’s mask warily. and for some reason that irked you.

so you said for Simon, “he’s not feeling too well. don’t want others catching a cold, right?”

she just laughed, airy and long and pinched with unease, waving you off and mumbling something that you couldn’t really hear before she motioned for you to step into the entrance hall. you shucked off your jacket, thanking her husband when he took it, and walked into the house—ginormous and very well-decorated. too well-decorated. like they didn’t even live in their own home.

you hugged your own chest, rubbing over your arms, and startled when you felt Simon at your back. looking back at him, he just slightly raised his brows, before gesturing a hand to step further in the house. you shuffled forward, feeling strangely embarrassed from the close proximity, and followed Iris into the open plan of the living room and kitchen.

there were a lot more people than you recognized in your group, you realized with unease, all chattering loudly as you moved over to the kitchen to put out your dish of family food, taking in the wide-array of charcuterie boards and cocktail shrimp and glasses of pricey alcohol.

a group of men you had never seen before stood in the kitchen, sipping on wine, teeth sparkling, looking trim in ralph lauren and very fit. one caught your eye, sending you a smirk, eyes roaming down your body, then up, before taking a sip of wine.

at that, you bit back a shiver and promptly disappeared into the rest of the people. 

you practically deflated when you looked around the room, immediately noting the absence of the big blonde brute at your back—it seemed that he had disappeared just as fast as you wanted to at the moment. 

instead, you moved from group to group, giving meek greetings to the girls you recognized who pulled you into hugs. most of the girls were flanked by a male that you had never met before, and you would scurry away just as soon as you would greet them, till you finally came across Sarah and Maya… talking with a man you knew.

“i finally found you,” you said with desperation, clinging to Maya and Sara’s sides. Johnny gave you an amused look, sipping at a beer.

you found yourself uncaring for his presence when you asked them, “why are there so many men here?”

Johnny just laughed and Maya patted at your head, sending you a sympathetic look.

“apparently Iris’s husband was in a frat. they’re ex-college friends,” Sarah explained, her face twisting between amusement and pity, before handing you a wine glass from a platter perched on a table in the hallway.  “i would’ve told you if i knew, darling.”

you sighed out. of course. ex-frat boys. your absolute least favorite kind. 

“i know you would have,” you mourned, wrapping yourself around Maya’s arm, then took a large gulp of wine.

“i heard you came in with Simon,” Maya said quietly, sending you a look out of her peripheral. 

you froze at that, hoping Johnny couldn’t hear you when you whispered, “don’t worry, he’s all yours, Maya.”

she flushed deeply at that, shaking you off of her. “that’s not what i meant.”

you made sure that Johnny and Sarah were still engrossed in their own conversation when you retorted, “that’s definitely what you meant. you think he’s cute?”

wholly enjoying it when she avoided your gaze, you wiggled your brow suggestively at her with a smirk. “or do you think he’s hot? you think he’s sexy, huh?”

you nudged her shoulder. “huh? huh?”

she swatted at you and you laughed, taking more mouthfuls of your wine as the strangest lump sunk from your throat to your stomach. sticking by Johnny, Maya, and Sarah, you felt shielded from the rest of the… males in the room. yet you still couldn’t help but wonder where Simon had disappeared to. you ended up finishing two more glasses of wine with a nervous sort of tick in your stomach.

dashing the outlandish murmurs of thoughts in your head, you let yourself get swept away with the events of the evening… drinking, talking. talking and more talking. drinking.

by the time your group moved closer to the kitchen, you were unbelievable bored as you searched around for the familiar blonde brute, satisfied when you saw him sitting on a barstool at the island in the kitchen, a glass of bourbon in his hand and a couple girls you had never seen before chatting with him at his shoulder.

they were obviously curious, you noticed, rolling your eyes, a bit worried for Maya when she eyed the scene carefully.

as you neared the food spread out over the island, you could hear those same ex-frat boys, speaking obnoxiously loud, and that one who had ogled you earlier was poking around at the food—specifically, your food.

he was prodding at it with a fork, exchanging looks with his friends, choking back on laughter when he said, “who brought the granny food?”

you stilled at that, staring at them laughing at the meal you had cooked. 

“isn’t that yours?” Maya asked softly, wide eyes trained on the tense situation at the other side of the room.

when you didn’t answer, Sarah’s face twisted as she stepped forward, her jaw falling open with a pinched look of intent on her face, but you waved a hand at her before she could say anything.

“just don’t,” you said through gritted teeth, embarrassed that Johnny was witnessing the spectacle in silence.

you felt even more embarrassed that Simon, down and across the kitchen island, was staring at them too.

but then he suddenly stood, cutting through the conversation of the invasive girls at his shoulder, and put down his glass of bourbon. “i did.”

the boys down the table fell silent, and the one that ogled you earlier let out a soft oh. Simon snatched a plate from the island and prowled over, towering over the rest of them and loaded up his plate with your food. then, his eyes flit up to yours, dark and murky as he took a bite.

you just closed your eyes and turned on your heel, walked back down the hallway with a mechanic stiffness despite Sarah’s protest. from behind you, you could hear Iris chiding David for being so rude.

you didn’t know who David was, and you didn’t care, till you reached a place in the house where no one else was. a study or office of sorts with big windows and a desk strewn with materials, darker here where there weren’t as many lights, night falling fast.

rubbing at your temples, you tried to slow your breath, pacing around the spacious room. you were seething. Kate would tell you that you were living in a reactionary moment—prolonging a feeling of shock or anger. what really lied underneath that was grief.

or, what you deciphered from the bullshit was that you were being overdramatic. overreacting.

you felt stupid when tears welled up in your eyes. 

there were footsteps nearing the office and you quickly wiped at them, expecting to find Sarah or Maya or maybe even Simon but—

it was Iris’s husband.

“hey,” he said softly, clearing his throat, “i’m so sorry about that earlier. my friends can be…”

a sheepish look crossed his face as he scratched at the back of his neck. “...really stupid sometimes. i’m Leo by the way.”

you just gave him a curt nod, sending him a weak it’s fine, but even knew that you sounded entirely unconvincing.

his eyes darted around the room before he added, “i tried your food earlier. i thought it was fantastic. i’m sick of charcuterie boards and cocktail shrimp anyway.”

you laughed at that, thought it came out flat and dead.

when a silence ensued, he asked you, “is that a family recipe or something?”

you nodded, clearing your throat weakly. “my mom made it as a kid. a family favorite.”

he clasped his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels like he didn’t know what to do with the awkward tension of the room. “oh, nice. my mom used to make tuna casserole all the time. i hated it back then, but i love it now, but i can never seem to get it right. and you seem to be great at cooking and all—”

he waved at hand at you and you flushed, thanking him, before another silence followed. 

then, there was a new flint of curiosity in his eyes as he stepped towards you. immediately, you edged backwards, a new taste of apprehension coating your tongue.

“remind me of your name again?”

you gave it to him, slowly, and clutched at the hem of your dress, tugging it down further over your thighs.

“your name. it’s pretty.”

you practically squeaked, “thanks.”

he shifted a bit closer to you, so you were just an arm’s length from him now, and you shuffled backwards, panicked when the back of your thighs hit the desk.

“and your dress…” he said, staring down at your body for a long moment, before his eyes flit up over your chest and to your face. “it’s pretty on you.”

your voice was much more strained now. “thank you.”

he tilted his head, almost in a predatory manner. “why doesn’t Iris invite you over more? you seem like such a lovely girl.”

lovely girl. your skin was crawling, eyes darting around the room, terrified that the only exit meant walking straight through him.

“mhmm,” was all you offered, skirting to the side, but he stepped forward again, almost closing the distance between you.

his hand came up like he was going to play with the end of your dress, but it stopped just short, hovering over the skin of your thigh.

“i’m going to go back to the party now,” you whispered, a fear eating you inside and out that sent a dizzy, hazy spiral through your mind. you wanted distance from him. now. forever.

he leaned forward so that he towered over you, much bigger and broader when he was this close—

“so soon?”

his fingertips just barely brushed over the skin of your thigh when a thick, rough voice cut through the room. 

“Leo.”

Leo scrambled backwards, clearing his throat as he turned to the person who had just stepped into the room. you almost melted in relief at the sight of Simon by the door.

“your wife is asking for you,” he said slowly, voice low and rough. his eyes were darker now, brows furrowed, and he looked terrifyingly big in the doorway.

Leo just nodded, hands clasped at his back again as he hesitated, head flicking from you to the brute’s gaze that bores into him. “right.”

he strode out the room, not even sending you a glance as he squeezed around Simon who didn’t move an inch, stock still as he stared after Leo.

you almost crumpled to the floor, shrinking as you clutched at the desk for support, legs shaking with effort.

“are you alright?” Simon asked, though he didn’t move any closer to you. the relief in that was like cold water splashing over the panicked heat of your body.

“no,” you admitted, turning your head away when tears spilled down your cheeks.

screwing them shut, you felt a deluge of shame and embarrassment rush over you.

“i wasn’t trying anything with Leo,” you said between sniffles, “i swear i—”

“i know,” he said, cutting you off.

you crossed your arms over your chest, rubbing at your arms as you shook. you tried to stop the shaking, but you couldn’t. you couldn’t stop it.

“you’re shaking,” he observed, voice cracked open with a sort of awe that you had never heard before. maybe shock was a better word.

your breath came labored now, and the room went dizzy, so you slowly skirted around the desk, clutching the wall for support as the floor fell out from under you.

Simon called your name, but it sounded distant and muffled.

“i’m fine,” you said, not able to make out his words that only sounded like mumbles in your ears.

slowly, you slid down the wall, crumpling yourself into a ball and digging your nose into the valley between your knees, a wetness sliding over them from your eyes. you just cried as you rocked, unsure what to do with yourself, feeling like you were going to pass out from the rough breaths that ripped from your lungs.

another body slid down the wall beside you, still far, but their warm fingers hooking on your wrist gently. picking up your head, you shifted out of Simon’s touch, his stoney gaze a marginal distance from your own.

“look,” he said, voice soft, as he put his hand into a loose fist and rubbed in circles over his chest. “like this. calms you down.”

between labored breaths, your arms felt leaden and dead when you contracted your hand into a weak fist, drawing small circles over your chest with great effort.

“it’s okay,” he said, sliding his hand between you across the floor in an offering. you curled your fingers around his hand, your own dwarfed by the sheer size of him, and picked it up to press it to your cheek, feeling cool against the uncomfortable heat on your skin.

in your haze, you realized you had never seen him gloveless before, and his skin against yours felt… right.

you slid his hand over your shoulder and to your waist, feeling his fingers curl around the flesh there, gently tugging your forward, and you let him haul you into his lap, his other arm hooking beneath your knees as he nestled you right into his arms.

he buried you in a tight hold, your cheek pressed to his chest as you continued to rub circles into your chest, trying and failing to slow your breath. you clung to him, a hand curling into the material of his shirt. 

you should’ve felt scared, immobilized by a man like this, but you felt impossibly safe, like his arms were the one thing between you and every other dangerous thing in the world.

“listen to me breathe, love.”

his slow breath was grounding, and you tried to match it, forcing the stutter of your lungs to slow. soon enough, you breath was normal once more, and you pulled away from him, crawling off his lap to lean against the wall.

you wiped at the tears that stained your cheeks.

“better?” he asked, and you couldn’t look at him, nodding slowly.

your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, but your body was light and airy, like it was floating off the ground. like you were living in a different world from your own, mind far, far away from your own body. like you could say anything and it wouldn’t matter in the moment.

“it was one of my dad’s friends,” you rasped, voice raw and sore.

when he was silent, you pushed on, “my mom blamed me for it, but i was just a kid. i didn’t know what was happening.”

“my dad didn’t care.” you took a shaky inhale. “he sucked.”

Simon’s hands twitched by his side. “i had a shitty fuckin’ father too.”

you almost smiled at that, thudding your head back against the wall.

“i don’t think i’ll ever recover,” you admitted softly, your heart dropping into your stomach. “i’ll just hate men forever.”

“do you still hate me?” he asked, and you, without hesitation, said, “no.”

he shrugged. “seems like you’ll recover then.”

you stared into the side of face, for the first time, wishing you could look at the other half of his face under the mask properly. it was like you were actually seeing him now, and just how gentle the warmth of his brown eyes could be. 

“what are we gonna do?” you said with a mirthless laugh, trained on the softness in his eyes, “we’re so fucked up we can’t even function properly.”

you could tell he was smiling under that mask.

“maybe a support group could help.”

you snorted at that, knowing full well in the two years that you had been in the group, almost nothing had changed for you. at least, not until Simon.

he stood, offering a hand that you took, and pulled you up gently. you practically clutched at his side, glued to him as he led you back to the party that had swelled into full swing now—loud, spooky music from the surround sound in the living room burst forth, and into the late hours of the night, even more strangers filled the space. it was loud and rowdy and you resisted clutching at your ears, fingers wrapping around the cuff of Simon’s sleeve tightly as you squeezed between different people.

Sarah and Maya were still hanging out near the island, Johnny nowhere to be seen, and talking to some other girls in the group. when they noticed you, Sarah launched herself at you and wrapped you up in a tight, squeezing hug that knocked the air from your lungs. Maya regarded Simon shyly, edging around him before hugging you, too.

she whispered quickly into your ear, “we wanted to check on you, but Iris sent Leo to apologize to you. did everything end up being alright? did he apologize? he wasn’t an asshole, was he?”

you just grimaced in her arms, patting her back softly. “don’t worry, everything’s fine,” you reassured her, and the relief on her face was shattering, concern melting from her features.

looking to Simon, you half-expected him to slink away and disappear into the crowd, but he stayed flush to your side, hands in his pockets as he watched you.

you made steady eye contact with him, slightly rising your brows in question, glancing in the direction of the front door, and he just gave you a curt nod.

“we’re going home,” you shouted over the loud music, and Sarah was quick to take your hand.

“with…” her eyes darted over to Simon, leaning forward to whisper in your ear, “him?”

ah. you had forgotten that the girls in your group thought that you hated him. or beyond that, just all men in general.

“i’ll be fine,” you promised them, believing yourself for once. “you stay and have fun.”

“if you’re going, we’re going too then,” she said, determined, Maya’s head bobbing beside her in agreement, but you just shook your head.

“really,” you shouted, glancing over to the tall man beside you, who looked as though he wasn’t listening, eyes trained somewhere distantly into the throes of the party, but you knew he was. “i’ll be fine.”

they looked unconvinced but didn’t push you nonetheless. Simon gave them curt goodbyes that boiled down to a nod and a low grunt, and you waved at the other girls from the support group, grateful for their concern as you packed up your food with a wince, avoiding a pair of eyes from across the room—David or whatever his name was. he lifted his glass of wine to you before tipping his head back, downing the contents in a couple quick gulps.

you resisted cursing him out, avoiding making another scene at all costs, as you quickly strode out the house and shoved yourself into your jacket on the way, Simon just steps behind you.

you stepped out into the night, shivering immediately from the biting air against your thighs, and without a word, Simon strung his huge, heavy jacket over your shoulders.

“hey—” you began in protest, but he just casually walked past you and down the steps, sending a look of question over his shoulder.

are you coming or not?

the words went unsaid but you followed him anyway, digging around your bag for your keys and fumbling with them between your fingers once you located them.

once you neared your car, you stopped by the driver’s seat. he waited by the sidewalk, stock still as he watched you.

“i drank a lot,” you said with a grimace, and he just tilted his head.

“i just had a glass. i can drive.”

“no,” you snapped, immediately regretting the force in your tone when his brows just raised slightly. softer, you finished, “i can drive myself.”

he gave you a long look. “right. i’m a woman, and i just had one glass. i can drive, yeah?”

the words were so bizarre coming from him that you couldn’t resist the choke of laughter that escaped your throat, and you tossed your car keys over to him that he caught with ease.

“you fooled me, Simon,” you said with a deadpan, enjoying the way his eyes flickered with a playful gleam in the darkness as you switched places with him, sliding into the passenger seat of your car.

“does that mean i get the aux too?” he asked, voice even and blunt as ever, and you rolled your eyes.

“now you’re pushing your luck.”

you handed the cord to him anyways, and he just glanced at you from his peripheral, and something in your gut told you it was a look of victory. 

you ignored it with a smile you tried to smother. he was always one-upping you.

“fancy smashing pumpkins?” he asked, and you nodded weakly, feeling bashful for some reason.

he scrolled down the playlist on his phone and tonight, tonight came blaring through the speakers. you rolled down your window, reaching over to turn it up the volume more.

“feel like a teenager yet?” you shouted over the music, and he pulled down his mask with an amused look, shifting the gear and pulled onto the road. your eyes swept over the curves of his face with a greediness, taking in the strength of his jaw and tall nose because you were actually paying attention to the details of him for once.

“something like that,” he mumbled back, but his words were lost in the music, falling deaf on your ears because all your attention was trained on the small smile that twisted his lips.

by the time you reached your apartment, you had fallen asleep in the car, despite the blaring music. by the time he woke you with a gentle touch to your shoulder, the stereo was turned off, and you stretched up in your seat, shaking the blurriness from your head and blinking through the sleepiness.

you lurched from the car, stepping up onto the sidewalk in front of the townhouse with a yawn, Simon just behind you.

you turned to him with a weak smile. “thank you for driving.”

he nodded. “‘course.”

your eyes darted around, looking back to the entrance, then to him again, and you fumbled with your words.

“do you want to come inside?” then, you flushed deeply. “i know it’s late but—”

he cut you off, sounding almost uninterested. “sure.”

biting down on your lip, you nodded, turning on your heel and shouldering through the heavy entrance with a twist of your keys, making your way up the stairs and down the hallway by his side.

it was surreal that the same experience had occurred only two days prior, and yet a completely new feeling enveloped it. you weren’t scared. you weren’t anxious. you were just…

you looked back at him from over your shoulder, his bare face on display, and glimmering with a few scars you hadn’t noticed before. there was a silvery one slashing through his upper lip. 

he must’ve noticed your stare because he cleared his throat, looking away, and you pushed through the entrance to your apartment flushed with embarrassment.

flicking on the lights, you were eternally grateful you had decided to clean up a bit in the early hours of the weekend and moved into the kitchen, putting all your things down on the kitchen table. including Simon’s jacket, you remembered, getting embarrassed all over again as you laid it carefully out, careful not to crease the high-quality leather.

“make yourself at home,” you called out, poking your head through the entrance of the kitchen momentarily to see him standing with an awkward stiffness by the front door. you looked down to his leather boots. “and shoes off please.”

you turned to the fridge to card through its contents, hearing a shuffling behind you, before silence. in a last minute decision, you grabbed two beers and a packet of salted pistachios from the pantry.

“want a beer?” you offered, finding him splayed across your small couch, arm braced against the back.

warily, you sat beside him, curling up into the corner of the couch and pulling your dress further down over your thighs as you handed him a can of beer.

flipping the tab of your can open with a pop, the contents sizzling inside, you took a generous mouthful.

“thanks,” he said, blunt, as he popped open the can with just one hand, tipping his head back to down half of it in a few massive gulps, throat bobbing with each mouthful.

your eyes darted away from the sight, the proximity between you suddenly feeling unbearable, but not a bad unbearable, just…

hot unbearable.

heart thudding, you reached for the remote on the coffee table instead, and flicked on the television. it pulled up your tab on netflix and that most recent k-drama you were watching.

with a squeak, you flipped through the program quickly to get away from it, but Simon was too quick.

“k-drama?”

you eyed him from your peripheral.

“yes.” to take off the edge of your embarrassment, you teased, “why? are you a k-drama kind of guy, Simon?”

he shook his head. “i don’t like ‘em.”

your jaw dropped, spluttering, “you don’t like them? why?”

his eyes flitted to you from his peripheral. “they’re unrealistic.”

you rolled your eyes. “and that’s exactly why i like them.”

“have you never dated before?”

you almost choked on your drink, glaring at the side of his face, willing him to look at you, but he kept his eyes trained forward on the tv.

“yes, i have, actually,” you said, indignant. “have you?”

he turned his head to look at you, head tilting as his eyes flitted up and down your body. you suppressed a shiver, confused by the mixed sensations of your body.

“what do you think, love?”

when you were only silent, his lips twitched, eyes flashing with amusement. 

then he mumbled quietly, “i never like the male leads.”

you smothered a laugh, trying and failing to imagine Simon hunkered over in his free time, watching k-dramas on his phone.

“‘cause they’re not you?” you deadpanned, amused just at the thought of it. blonde, tall, and corded with thick muscle. he wasn’t much like any male k-drama lead you knew.

“no,” he said, leaning forward to set his empty can of beer on the coffee table, “‘cause they’re immature.”

your mind reeled at that, recounting the current k-drama you were watching, and finding him not half-wrong. 

“you into immature men?” he asked, voice dry with sarcasm.

mocking the deep timbre of his voice, you shot back, “what do you think, love?”

he huffed a laugh of dismay, and you just suppressed a smile, avoiding his eyes.

“you want to know what i think?”

the question had a dripping burn in it that made your skin prickle, insides sliding around with a foreign heat you weren’t accustomed to. when you just shrugged, feigning indifference, you knew Simon’s attentive stare sliced straight through the act.

“i think you just need a mature man who can take care of your needs properly.”

your whole body shuddered, thighs pressing together and stomach twisting with heat. you should’ve been irked by the proposition, angry with him even, but you just clutched tighter at the can in your hand, voice careful and poised. “and you think i can’t take care of my own needs?”

“no,” he said, without a second of hesitation, “but i think that you want to be taken care of.”

you bit down on your lip. “what makes you think that you know what i want?”

“doesn’t everyone want to be taken care of?” he relaxed further into the cushions, head falling onto the back of the couch, gaze lazy as it traced over you.

“do you want to be taken care of?” you asked, setting down your can of beer, uncaring that the hem of your dress had ridden up from the movement. but he didn’t even look down, half-lidded eyes on your face.

“sometimes.”

“do you want me to take care of you?” you asked, voice a whisper as you leaned forward onto your palm, and he was silent for a long moment.

“do you know how to take care of someone?”

your lips pressed together, jaw clenching. “i know enough.”

he gave you a lazy, lopsided smile. “do you even know how to kiss someone?”

at that, you reeled back a bit. was he making fun of you?

a resolute aching pang shot through your chest, and he blinked, sitting up straighter, like you were both just been pulled out of a heady haze that you weren’t supposed to be in. suddenly, this whole situation felt wrong, and not because you didn’t like it, but because it didn’t feel allowed.

“i should go,” he said, face stoney and voice void of anything perceptible. 

you quickly nodded, squeaking out, “yeah, you should.”

the words should’ve been sharp and cutting but they only came out strained and confused as you watched Simon stand from the couch. 

he strode over to the kitchen, snatching his jacket from the table and throwing it on while shoving into his boots once more. you pushed yourself up from the cushions, hands twitching by your sides.

he sent you a strange look from over his shoulder and jerked the door open with a roughness you didn’t know he could carry.

“bye,” you said weakly, and he hesitated in the entrance.

“thanks for…” he glanced towards the living room, and you sent him a confused look, looking back at the cans of beer and nuts on the coffee table.

“oh,” you said, turning back to him, “no problem—”

but the entrance was empty, and you stuck your head out into the hallway to see him already a marginal distance down the hall. cursing, you grabbed a random shoe from the rack by the doorway and shoved it into the crack of the door, rushing after him.

“wait!” you called, and he turned, slowing as you approached him.

your stomach a fit of nerves, you fisted the material of his nice jacket, uncaring if you crinkled the leather as you pulled him down, and stood on your tiptoes to press a brief kiss to his cheek.

when you slowly lowered back down to the floor, Simon only stared at you with that same stoney, blank look.

“thank you,” you said softly, and he just kept staring at you.

with a deep blush, you released him, and his footsteps were uneven when he turned and almost stumbled down the stairs. you yelped, heart clenched with worry, but he steadied himself against the rail and shot down the stairs with a speed that you didn’t know was possible, blonde head disappearing from view.

you stood there in the hallway for a long moment, fiddling with your dress. what the hell was that?

you gripped at the roots of your hair, suppressing a scream. what the hell was that?

turning and marching back down the hall, you kicked the shoe from the crack, slipping inside. but before the door shut, you poked your head out once more to see if Simon would reappear from the top of the stairs.

when he didn’t, you let out a strangled noise of frustration, and slammed the door shut, promising yourself you’d never let yourself slip like that again. promising yourself you’d never let yourself get that close in proximity to a man ever again. promising yourself you wouldn’t even look in the direction of another one of those things. not ever again. not even for Simon.

your honor... they’re flirting in their idk-how-to-interact-with-opposite-gender-way-bc-of-trauama 🌚 also i feel like soap is such a flat character in this series rn he's just kinda there 😭 but dw he gets more interesting later on (hopefully?)

taglist: @kenma-izhu @actuallyhiswife @froggielottiee @neenieweenie @delaynew @ilovehyperfixating @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @tomorrowseverything @moonlqths @ivybeeloved @babygirl-riley @keiva1000 @arminarlertssword @crowbird @jasonloveclub @karurururu

@embers-of-alluring @newsies-pape-girl @suhmie @amberpanda99@mystsee @cosmoscoffee @hunterofhonor @wawuwe @kunikku @corvusmorte @hearts4sky @aloudplace @justletmelivethanks @shadowdaddysposts @leclercdreams @ayanokomu @thedevillovesflowers @thisuserloveshalloween @soundsfunbutno @enfppixie @tired-bi-ass@http-paprika @xaestheticalien

#simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost smut #ghost angst #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost fluff #simon riley fluff #simon riley angst #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic

[hazelfoureyes]

⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania

˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2

˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦 (keep reading)

Alastor lets you leave the hotel! Together! For soup. Later, your plans to make Alastor lose his obsession backfire. But like, in a hot way so you’re not that mad about it. A+ for effort?

˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦

「warnings/promises: smut, I once again misuse a fucking prayer in a sacrilegious way, soup, spoon feeding, Angel texts, so much cum, bondage, tentacles, just good ole fashion fucking in the radio station, not quite dubcon but Alastor doesn’t really listen, hell has twitter and lets be real it’s just normal twitter, giant Alastor, Horse Luci」

Minors DNI ♥️ 🧹lovingly

You finally managed to leave the hotel. It was of course with Alastor at your side, microphone pressing into the small of your back like a third arm. It was as if he worried you’d just turn around and run.

He opened every door, pulled out your chair, and when your left hand shook and dropped your food he took on the task of feeding you. It was embarrassing, to say the very least. The sinners in the restaurant staring, a brave few filming or typing furiously on their phones.

You got a buzz on your own cell, a gift from Angel when he realized Alastor wouldn’t let you speak with others alone. 

He texted a link to a post on some hell site, to a photo of you right then, at that exact moment, being spoon fed by the radio demon. You considered smashing your head into the table until you blacked out. If you got up and left would you make it back to the hotel before someone realized you weren’t a sinner? You were absolutely terrified of someone noticing you as heaven sent.

Heaven kicked? Heaven thrown. Yeah that one felt right.

“You need to eat. You can’t heal like this.” Alastor sounded concerned, but you fought the urge to care. 

He hadn’t apologized to Husk, but Husk did say Alastor seemed to avoid eye contact which was basically a gift to him. Alastor had come to your room to dress you the next day as he always did, neither of you mentioning the day before. The hall was magically pristine by the time you left.

A tiny sliver of you thought he felt embarrassed. But decades of experience told you that Mania didn’t afford embarrassment, the stricken couldn’t be truly manic if something like that was holding them back.

Maybe it had been such a shallow cut he hadn’t gotten the full punch of Mania?

Another attempt to feed yourself, slowly bringing your spoon to your mouth, “You know when I heal I am going to finish my task and leave, right?” 

An odd laugh, a non-existent tear wiped away, “Adorable. No. I promise you, that won’t happen.”

“Alastor.” You put the spoon down with a clink.

“I love when you say my name. May I offer you more reasons to hold it in your mouth?”

“Al-,” you groaned, “I can’t stay forever.”

He hummed, a show of pretending to think about what you said, “Wrong! You can. And I argue, you will.”

You tried again with the spoon, regretting soup. Your appetite had been shot for awhile and it seemed easy enough. Wrong. Again. There was a constant tremble to your hands since arriving. Perhaps experiencing pain for the first time was rattling your body so much that it couldn’t cope. “Why would I ever do that? This is literal hell.”

Alastor leaned over, taking the spoon from you with ease and bringing it to your mouth, “Because I’ll make you understand it’s where you belong. They didn’t appreciate you,” his grin widened, “Not like I do. Like I can, if you’d let me.”

Annoyed and flustered, you took the help to eat. “Thank you.” A spoonful, “How can you say that though? I’m the one and only Cupid.”

“Actually, no. You’re not. You are just the current incarnation. They’ll replace you.” 

You regretted telling him that. They could. Just replace you, that is. There was nothing stopping them. You stared into your soup, lips curling down.

“Don’t look so defeated. I’ll make you happy, for eternity.” 

Your eyes rolled. “When do you plan on starting that eternal happiness?”

You didn’t look at him when you said it, but you could see his hand slow, then become completely still. Had you wounded him?

He pivoted, “Doesn’t Cupid have wings?”

Another spoonful, “Of course.”

Alastor waited while you took a drink, determined to make you eat the entire bowl, “Where are they?”

A pause. Where were they? You hadn’t realized you couldn’t feel them. They weren’t everpresent, but their weight still sat between your shoulder blades at all times. Always. Normally. But now? 

“You don’t know? That’s troubling.” Alastor read your face with ease.

You shot him a look. Stop doing that. Stop replying to unspoken thoughts.

“Apologies.”

Another text before you could snap at him.

You slid the phone away from Alastor, face red. “Do you think, honestly, if you’re capable of it, that I’ll ever be able to go home?”

His hand came to your neck, running over your collarbone, “For the record, I’ve never once lied to you.” You rolled your eyes, fine, okay, “With your heavenly body, even as weakened as you have been here, I’d say just a few more weeks.”

You turned the phone face down.

“Good…that’s good. If you plan on winning me over, your countdown has started.” You pushed the soup away, appetite gone. The idea of never returning to heaven made you nauseous. He slid it back to you, face stern despite the smile he wore.

The walk home was quiet, your stomach full of unwanted soup.

No, not home. The hotel. 

He usually spoke a lot, clearly loving the sound of his own voice. His hand replaced the staff, settled on your back as he guided you. You could feel the warmth through your clothes. How could he be so hot and not be sweating? Another sinner thing?

The thought hadn’t left you by the time you came into view of the hotel gates. Maybe you had been replaced. How would you know? Maybe that was why your wings were gone. Surely there was some way to communicate from hell.

You found Lucifer as soon as you returned, unbothered by Alastor’s presence, “I need to speak to heaven.” 

Alastor was saying something but you had gotten quite good at tuning him out. Lucifer snapped back, the men quickly devolving into arguing again.

“Lucifer.” You said it with your chest. 

His apple topped cane whirled, a golden circle appearing with a crystal clear image of heaven’s glowing gates through its center.

A loud noise erupted behind you, a high pitched static wail, familiar tentacles flailed and a long shadow of a growing Alastor stretched across the wall. His back was bent into the lobby ceiling, perhaps three stories tall now.

The sounds of magic popping as Lucifer shapeshifted accented the sounds of horror with that of whimsy. You approached the portal, those black tendrils slithering around your ankles but you easily slipped out of them as their owner's energy was pulled to full demon Lucifer slamming into him.

Almost, you could see it. 

A monstrously large hand came down, shaking the hotel and knocking various objects off their perches in the lobby. Charlie and Vaggie, someone else you’d come to enjoy the company of, flew down the stairs.

The common area was filled with the sounds of yelling and breaking glass. You crawled over his hand as Alastor’s fingers curled around your body gingerly. He tried to pull you from the gateway but while he slowed, Lucifer now a flying horse kicking him in the face, your outstretched hand strained to enter the portal.

Your fingers grazed the doorway, the air around the lobby fizzing and warping as a desperate screech tore from Alastor’s wide and impossibly thin chest. The grip tightened around you. A static whine threatened to pop your eardrums.

As your fingertips pressed past the ring, they stopped. Something impenetrable and unseen between you and heaven. 

Alastor must have noticed it too, his grip loosening as you clamored on hand and knees to the portal. Your palm ran over the doorway, searching for a hole or seam to rip. Just under your skin was your home, bright and clean and painless. A tiny ‘no’ fell from your lips, smacking at the barrier with your open hand.

Alastor returned to his normal, still terrifying, height. Lucifer came forward, their fight losing motivation, his small hand on your shoulder as you sat on the hotel lobby floor. He closed the portal and apologized, “Sorry kid. Let’s try again when you finish that task, okay?”

Alastor’s arms went under your back and knees and lifted you off the ground. You didn’t resist or argue. Your eyes were unfocused, vision blurry with tears, as you were carried past the others. Vaggie looked ashamed, which was odd given she had more character than half the archangels could muster together between them.

There existed permissions for who could enter the heavenly realm, a list meticulously kept. They’d removed you from that roster. They’d locked the doors behind you.

You felt good. The final week of your first, and hopefully last, month in hell was marked with taking off your sling for the first time.

A good three day wallow in a metaphorical cave helped you emerge with renewed vigor. Of course they locked the gates behind you, otherwise you’d just go home. That made sense. That made sense.

That had to make sense. 

Deciding to take a risk and attempt to expedite your homecoming, you and Angel made plans. Like a teenager in a party movie you snuck out of the hotel when Alastor was asleep. Well, so you assumed. You weren’t really sure what he did behind closed doors.

Angel brought you somewhere he felt people would be receptive to discussing love and talking to angelic beings, and admittedly also very high. 

Sling off but still being as gentle as you could, you leaned across the small standing-only table to talk-shout with a rather cute aquatic demon. An eel? Or maybe some kind of water-fond lizard? It didn’t matter, his glasses were cute, both of you a little drunk,  and you quite good at saying the right things.

And all of the right things were said, and you felt maybe if nothing else you’d enjoy your first demonic lay, when the power shut off.

Everyone filed out, bummed and bothered to find most of the neighborhood shrouded in darkness.

Angel tapped your shoulder and pointed up the hill to the hotel, radio station a glow with a red light, “Ya know, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Nothing to do but to stare, you stayed quiet and angry while he flagged down a taxi knowing the trip would be fast without traffic lights, “Guess Daddy Dead Eyes is calling you back.” 

Anger grew and grew in your chest as you were charioted home.

Jesus, to the hotel. Stop doing that.

You burst into the radio station tower, Alastor barely reacting. Until, that is, you marched up to his desk.

Pinned before you could react, his body pressing into yours as your ass ran up onto the desk.

“Sneaking out like a child?” His voice was low, soft, unnatural. “Why do you intentionally torment me?” 

 “I have done,” you tried to move but only succeeded in rubbing your stomach against his crotch, “no such thing. You’re just possessed.”

He responded by pressing forward, no accident, as his eyes narrowed on you, “Correct. I am a man possessed.” When he rolled himself into you, an alcohol primed groan escaped your mouth. 

“I thought you didn’t care about those things,” your eyes flashed to his lap pushing into you and then back to his glare.

“You’re my exception that proves the rule. If you’re so desperate for attention there’s no need to leave the hotel to find it.” His smile was poisoned by the simmering anger in his eyes, “Dear.”

It was the alcohol and annoyance at losing a chance with glasses-man, Jake or Jark or something not worth a scrabble move, that made you sneer a reply, “Not yours. I am a divine creature, demon. Your body would just filthy me.” Nose up, feeling absolutely better than him in every sense, you pushed him off and left. 

That was easy. Wow. 

Proud of yourself, you made it to the elevator before you realized— illusions. Perhaps his illusion was the idea sex with you was worth the effort, more so than others. He said it himself before, he didn’t care for such things. Perhaps if you could show him it was as boring and unattractive as sex with anyone else could be, maybe you could shatter his mania with disappointment.

You pulled a u-turn and heel-toed right back into his station. Giving him no time to react this time, you climbed onto his chair and straddled him, “On second thought, try your worst. Let’s get it out of your system and move on.” You ground your hips down. He only smiled up at you, amused. Taking his hands you set them on your waist, giving him permission to handle you, “Claim me. Make everyone know I’m yours.” He didn’t move. You were starting to feel embarrassed, had he goaded you just to make you look stupid? He would.  But your kind invented the tension before sex between enemies, “If you can.”

That did it. His hair visibly stood on end, “It is not a matter of ability. It’s about-”

“If you can’t, that’s fine. No need to start lying to me now. But don’t say I never gave you the opportunity.” You smirked, hoping he enjoyed a taste of his own sardonic medicine, and lifted yourself off of him.

His hands came to life on your hips, helping you rise and then flipping you onto your stomach. Your arms pushed radio transmitters and various old timey fuckery away to make room for yourself.

Those talons slipped up the center of your bottoms and crooked into your underwear. Long and strong, his fingers felt you. “Is this a perk of a heavenly body or is this,” two fingers dipped into your already wet and relaxed entrance, “all for me?”

You fought the urge to respond with anything other than malice, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

In heaven no one needs preparation, no one needs lube or required stretching to keep things whole and fun. You would love to say that quality followed you down, but unfortunately, like perfect health and angelic wings, it had not. 

You decided to chalk it up to the alcohol. Always an easy excuse to offer yourself.

Alastor’s hands pulled away and up, finding the place just above the Rosie’s Emporium clothing tag and ripping the bottoms and underwear clean in half.

You bit into your hand to keep your excited shriek to yourself but unfortunately couldn’t stop your legs kicking up. His laugh echoed off the many windows. 

Why couldn’t he be worse at this? Why couldn’t Alastor be clumsy and meek and awkward at sex? No, the menace you’d gotten almost used to was confident and commanding, you felt yourself twitching in anticipation. People have a misconception that Cupid was a chaste and wholly emotional creature, which was false. First of all, Cupids varied based on the incarnation. Just like other heavenly creatures their personality was varied and unpredictable. 

Personally, you weren’t suited for the job. If you were honest. Why couldn’t your quiver just be full of Eros and Agape? Even of those two, sexual love was more your speed. Romance was fine and lovely but perhaps you’d gotten a little jaded. 

Luckily for you, fucking Cupid was something many winners had on their afterlife bucket lists and you rarely found yourself with an empty bed.

Your attention was stolen back, Alastor’s clawed hand grabbing at the flesh of your thighs, “Oops.”

Focus. Why were you doing this again? Your system was metabolizing the alcohol now, and with the air cooling off your exposed sex, everything was awash with lust. Did you want to diminish his mania or were you just horny?

Would it really be so bad to admit you were both?

Deep breath, you remembered. Boring. Banal. The plan was to be motionless and not provide him any satisfying sounds. Don’t touch him, don’t try to push back on him, no tricks or fancy shit. The sooner he was over this you could make someone trust in love and fuck off home. 

Seconds turned to a minute, your ass in the air as Alastor’s hands pawed at your skin. You wanted to ask what the hold up was, but you didn’t want to give away how much you were needing him to just fuck you already.

“Do you miss flying?”

You looked around, were you so drunk you missed an entire chunk of conversation while thinking about how to hide thirsting for his dick?

“Yes…?” True statement.

“Allow me to help with that.”

There was a moment you half expected to be chucked out the window, but almost worse than that, you heard him seat himself in the chair again before your body was picked up and off the desk. “Alastor! I don’t-,” Hands flailing, feet moving around the best they could, you struggled against the familiar tentacles he had command over. “I do not allow it!”

Your hands batted at them fruitlessly. One came under your knees and folded them to either side of your chest before wrapping around your waist twice, a second across your chest like a seatbelt snug and secure. Had you been on the floor you could almost be mistaken for taking a deeply devout praying stance. Only your arms were free to move, the position making you open and incapable of taking back any semblance of control. 

“Alastor!” Stretching, you could almost reach the edge of his work table, but your fingers and toes curled in as you were seated on something hot and stiff. Your lips quivered, desperate to keep silent as you were pulled down onto him. Reaching back your hands found his stomach, raking your nails across the skin in need of anything to grip. 

When you heard him chuckle to himself, you knew you were already losing. Plan backfiring entirely. You pulled your hands back to your center, taking ahold of the tentacle nestled between and across your chest. 

“Heavenly Father,” his voice was quiet but sure, your eyes so wide you worried you’d get stuck making a permanent face of utter shock and despair, “bless us and these thy gifts which we receive from thy bountiful goodness, through your name, our lord.” You were lifted off his lap, Alastor’s swollen tip dragging along your unstretched walls as he said the Lord's prayer, “Amen.” Pulled back down before the second syllable even reached your ears, you cut into your bottom lip as a scream bounced around behind your teeth.

Heathen.

“I would think you of all people knew how to finish a prayer.” Alastor chided, “What will heaven say?”

If heaven knew you were being impaled midair on an overlord’s cock, they’d create a second hell for you to rule. Population of none. Except maybe some horny nuns.

As he found a pace he seemed happy with, slow and long draws out of you, you realized how fucked you were. Looking down, you could see one of his hands was settled at the base of his cock, those long fingers draped down his balls. The other hand was unseen and unfelt. 

“Alastor.” You tried to sound stern.

“Oh I doubt heaven knows my name. Not yet at least.” He sounded unbothered, almost unaffected. “Not until I’ve spirited away their little angel of love.”

You were almost insulted at how easily he could speak despite being buried so far into your wet, hot cunt. Maybe you had been spoiled in heaven, people usually so turned on by the idea of you that they were coming undone as soon as you were wrapped around them or in them in whatever way you decided.  

A broken chant of “be bored, be bored,” in your mind as Alastor hummed, that mystery clawed hand falling at your back. Biting your lip, you tried to think about anything other than how full he was making you. Did the glasses man at the club have a cock as thick as Alastor’s? Would you have been as satisfied as you were now? Every down thrust made the tuft of fur at this base press against your ass. Soft. You wanted to grind against it, the idea pulling a wanton moan out.

Fuck. Failing to distract yourself because you got distracted. It was so hard to think about anything else than your body being pushed open again and again. The blood on your lips was sweet, licking them clean before finding a new spot to bite down on. Quiet.

“Ah, are you giving me the silent treatment?”

Could this son of a bitch read minds? Could sinners read minds?!

 If you didn’t reply, that was confirmation. But if you did reply, you were breaking your goal of not talking.

“Just…,” you took a deep sigh, knowing this was going to be rough, “I’m not really feeling like making any noise.” A shrug, the best you could manage at least while bound and held aloft in the space above his lap. Pretending this was normal and boring was a feat. “I’m not a vocal person during sex. I prefer to just lie there and get serviced. Don’t mind me.”

That sounded awful. Perfect. 

“Oh? Well then, I guess I’ll not worry myself.” You could hear the smile in his voice. Less perfect. He began to hum a little tune as your body, partially upright, was now being tilted forward at a 45 degree angle from his lap. His cock was bending in you, head pressing harshly up into your walls. 

Heart beating so fast you felt a dizzy spell hit you, that renewed anticipation almost as arousing as the sensations.

His humming continued like he was reading the paper. You’d never ridden a roller coaster, but you’d seen many people do it before and this was surely the same feeling; right at the peak before the drop. When the ride operator stills you and lets you stare down at the height before you. Your stomach was flipping, excitement tinged with fear. 

You were pulled off his dick until you felt the bell of his red tip get just outside your entrance. Was he going to pull out entirely?

No. He pulled you down by way of shadows and fucked you just a couple inches into your cunt. His head was dragging out past your tight hole and smashing back in, directly hitting your g-spot. The spongy bundle of nerve endings was dented with every thrust.

You weren’t used to having your entrance stimulated so much, the skin luckily becoming slick as your own wetness was fucked out of you. 

“That feels weird, please.” How quickly you gave up. “Stop pulling out like that.”

A considerate sigh, “But you’ve gotten so wet, my dear. You’re dripping down my thighs already. I don’t think you want me to stop.”

Could you cum like this? You felt like you could, maybe if you just…you quickened your breath, faster and faster. Your stomach heaving, you felt the crescendo of pleasure. 

“On second thought!” He stopped.

Your toes wiggled, hands gripping the tentacle on your chest. Quiet. Shh. Don’t argue. Boring. Don’t care. The building orgasm waned, you felt your blood pressure lower. This really was hell. 

Alastor’s head was just sitting in you, burning hot and throbbing. You were sure you could feel his heartbeat. 

You two were locked in a standoff. Someone had to let on they were enjoying themselves; Alastor releasing pent up frustration with your attitude toward his affections, you chasing down a rare penetration-only orgasm. 

An idea struck you, a way to hopefully antagonize him and bruise his pride enough to force him into your hand (pussy), “Thank God. I think it’s almost my bedtime.”

Alastor’s smile strained, a twitch coming over his left eye. A trap. But the idea of letting you down and off of him seemed far worse than the small defeat you were offering. “Allow me to rock you to sleep then, sweetheart.”

Success! Shit! 

You reached out, the angle of your punishment allowing you to grab the edge of the table and grip. Alastor’s annoyance translated to an inhuman pace, him pulling you off entirely from his cock before bringing you back down. He was positively slipping in and out of you, your lower lips puffy and soaked around him. This degree of wetness was something you couldn’t remember feeling outside of marathon sessions. 

When your hands tightened, a shock of pain tore down your arm, a scream bringing Alastor to a sudden stop. “My collar…” Pain was apparently not a kink you enjoyed, though you briefly wondered if heaven allowed it at all. 

You couldn’t even fuck properly. You couldn’t do anything right. All you managed to do was fail. A sting to your eyes as the air hit your welling tears. Did humans feel this pain often? Your body was righted and turned, you looked down to Alastor’s face as you were brought to him. He looked so soft, usual smirk a sweet toothless smile, “I told you to keep the sling on, didn’t I?” He looked happy.

Your arms found his shoulders and your head came to his chest, “Shut up and finish already.” He didn’t release you from the binding, instead pulling the right arm under the hold of his slender tendril to keep it safe and out of the way.  His hands were both at the base of his cock while you were gently riding him. Well, “you”. He was still using his powers to manipulate your body on and off of him. Alastor’s fingers were spreading your arousal down his shaft and along his tightening balls, if you had looked at his face you’d have seen a weakened man there, furrowed brows and lust drunk eyes. But you didn’t look, trying to hide the same expression on your own features. 

Left hand free, no need to hold yourself up, you made lazy, and you hoped subtle, circles around your clit. You weren’t sure if this was a total failure or not, but you could finish and say something good came of it. You, specifically. 

Things were quiet, though. The loudest sound in the room was the wet pop coming from where his body was meeting your sopping hole. His breathing was fast and soft, sighing when he bottomed out. Another bite to your lip, a few more deep hits to your cervix, and you enjoyed a small but satisfying release. The hand on you stayed through, riding out tiny waves of pleasure as you twitched around him. When you felt his release you sighed, you did it. You think. Maybe. Regardless. 

As he slowly lifted you, you considered if your legs could hold you—

Up you went and back down you fell as he took a new, quicker pace.

“A-Ah-lastor?! You,” you bit your tongue, “already finished?”

You had made a mistake earlier that you hadn’t even realized. But Alastor had been holding it between his sharp teeth, “How many times?”

Absolutely no idea what he was talking about, you gasped out a reply, “What!?”

“How many times should I fill you before you’re too filthy to return to heaven, do you think?” He couldn’t be serious. “Three? Five? You see, the advantage of using my tentacles is that I don't get tired.”

Oh, but he was serious. 

The battle was entirely forfeit somewhere around the third time he flooded you with his seed.

“These aren’t the usual screams I enjoy from my studio, but I’m not averse to them.”

 When he felt you’d learned whatever lesson you were supposed to be taking in by the pump full, you were finally removed from him. He covered your lower half with his coat around your waist. It would be lying to say you were surprised to find his wide shoulders and small waist wasn’t just an illusion of his well tailored, yet oddly torn, coat. He was annoyingly attractive. Who gave him the right?

Your legs gave out when you tried to stand, warm hands pulling under your armpits to get you back on your feet. As much as you wanted to push him away, you were still a little tipsy and your legs still getting used to full blood flow. His arm held out for you to use for stability, you took it and wobbled silently to the floor you both lived on. Before you left the elevator you looked down and saw a line of white dripping down your inner leg. Took longer than you expected, honestly. 

When you turned to the right to go to your door, his arm came around your waist and shepherded you to his room on the left. You shot him a look, asking what he thought he was doing. 

He laughed, “Oh, after tonight’s little escapade, you’re moving!” He opened his door and gestured for you to enter, “Welcome home, my dear.”

What was worse than a failure? A catastrophe? This was that. 

“Now come on, we need to get you cleaned up.” A hand patted softly at your ass before ushering you inside.

He did just that, wiping you down and undressing you before settling you into his bed. Exhausted and sore, you decided to argue after sleep.

When you awoke, you checked your shredded bottoms for your phone. Nothing. 

An answer was found when you mentioned it to Alastor, who asked what you were searching for so early in the morning, “Perhaps someone at that venue you enjoyed has it? Too bad you can’t go back and ask.” He was resting his back against the headboard, you realized he’d unbuttoned his shirt quite a bit. “Oh well!”

How was he always making you scream?

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove  @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re

@asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp

#alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x you #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #smut

[maglorslostsilmaril]

5 Times the House of Finwe Fought + 1 Time They Didn’t (pt2)

The rest of the Ñoldor arrive in Beleriand expecting to find Fëanáro on the throne. Findekáno is not prepared to find Makalaurë instead.

read in on ao3 here!

Of course it was Findekáno’s least favorite Fëanorians who stood guarding the entrance to their main encampment. Guarding, though, was a loose term. Tyelkormo and Atarinkë stood virtually unarmed before them; likely they were more so awaiting the arrival of Nolofinwë and his party than doing any true guarding of anything.

“Aiya, Nolofinwë!” Atarinkë greeted, stepping forward to meet Findekáno’s father. He led their small campaign of himself, Findekáno, Findaráto and Laurefindil, the eldest (or second eldest, in Findekáno’s case) of their houses. “The actions of my father were meant to dissuade you from crossing the sea, but I see they have been in vain. What would you have with the House of Fëanáro?”

Laurefindil was nearly trembling with rage between Findaráto and Findekáno, for his other mother, wife of Findis, was Telerin and Vanya, but Nolofinwë remained calm. “I seek the counsel of my half-brother, High King Fëanáro.” He said. “For though there has been great grief between us in the past, have I not still crossed the ice to aid him in his battle against Morgoth?”

For a moment, a strange look somewhere between anger and sadness passed over the faces of both Fëanorians, but it was gone as quickly as it came, and Atarinkë sniffed haughtily. “I will bring you to the high king,” he told them, “but it is not your decision whether or not he will see you, and I’ll have you know that I would prefer he didn’t . Findekáno rolled his eyes and a wave of annoyance surged through him.

I know it’s all bluster, Findaráto whispered in his mind, but that doesn’t make me want to punch him any less. Findekáno silently agreed as they followed the brothers through the large barriers and into the camp. It was truly desolate compared to the splendor of Tirion; the buildings were small and unassuming, and the fellow ellons they saw as they wound through the camp looked rather tired and sad, so much unlike the eager crowds Fëanáro had roused in the Darkening. Eventually, they reached the largest building of the camp, three stories tall and the only building remotely the size of the ones Findekáno used to see in Tirion.

“This is the residence of the sons of Fëanáro,” Tyelkormo announced, swinging open one of the large oaken doors. “Morifinwë, fourth eldest, will take you to the High King.” Carnistir appeared from the shadows of the building and silently beckoned them inside, face stony. He said nothing as he led them through the dark halls of the makeshift fortress until they reached another pair of doors. Carnistir shot them another glare and then slipped inside. Findekáno could hear muffled speaking from inside, and then Carnistir reappeared and beckoned them into what Findekáno assumed to be the throne room.

It was a room maybe the size of Findekáno’s old bedroom, and around ten times less interesting. There was nothing in it except for a small dias at the far end of the room with a wooden throne atop it and a Fëanorian star carved into the wall above it. On the throne sat Makalaurë, with Ambarto and Ambarussa flanking either side of it. Ambarto was covered in what appeared to be burn scars, and Makalaurë looked deeply exhausted. Nolofinwë blinked, and Findekáno could feel the confusion radiating off of his father and cousins as well as himself. Beside him, Findekáno saw Laurefindil nearly hold Findaráto back as the other blonde fought not to rush up to Makalaurë’s side. Findekáno didn’t blame him; Laurefindil would have had to hold him back too, should Russandol be sitting there in front of him. Speaking of Maitimo…

“Where is Fëanáro?” His father asked. “Or Nelyafinwë? Even if the King is unavailable, I should like to at least speak with the Crown Prince.”

“The high king has been gracious enough to receive you,” Carnistir said blankly. “Whether or not you wish to see him is your choice.” Findekáno shared a look with his cousins, dread slowly replacing confusion as he looked back up at Makalaurë’s tired, grief-stricken face. Even if something happened to his uncle, Maitimo should have been on that throne.

“What do you mean?” Nolofinwë frowned. “Are both Fëanáro and-”

“ Fëanáro is dead. ” Makalaurë whispered, standing shakily from the throne. “My father was killed by valaraukar upon our arrival in Valariandë .” Every member of Nolofinwë’s campaign audibly gasped, sans Laurefindil who stared impassively up at Makalaurë. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut; everything he’d done was fueled by anger at his uncle and his love for Nelyafiwe and his friends in Valariandë , and now…Fëanáro, the everlasting figure who’d shaped his life with his actions for centuries was just…gone. Just like that. Findekáno didn’t even know if he felt sad or not. Fëanáro had been kind to him once, but Morgoth had twisted him, and taken all of the good aspects of him away.

“And…Nelyafinwë?” His father questioned, voice choked. Makalaurë looked away and the twins winced. Findekáno couldn’t tell if Carnistir had flinched or not. The dread was growing, along with preemptive fear for the fate of Nelyo, his Nelyo-

“Crown Prince Nelyafinwë was captured in a parley with Morgoth.” Makalaurë said tightly. “Though his true livelihood is unknown, it is…kinder to assume that he had been killed and resides with our father in the halls. As of right now, I am the high king of the Ñoldor.” Findekáno felt like he had the time Irisse had pulled a rug from underneath his feet; surprised and scared of the impact to come. That and sudden, all-consuming grief mixed with a healthy dose of anger. Anger at Morgoth for taking him, at Nelyafinwë for parley-ing with Morgoth, and at Makalaurë for leaving his brother in the hands of Morgoth!

“ Iluvatar,” Nolofinwë ran a shaking hand down the back of his head and Makalaurë stepped down from the dias to meet them, the twins just behind. “No attempt has been made to return the Crown Prince.” His jaw dropped. They just left him there! Just like that!

Makalaurë shook his head, an unidentifiable emotion on his face. “Not one member of Nelyafinwë’s party returned from Angband. It is too dangerous to go after him, and yet we are powerless to meet his demands for Nelyafinwë’s release. The way across the sea is closed to us. Our hands are tied; we can do nothing but hope Iluvatar will take pity on his fëa.” At Makalaurë’s words, Findekáno’s anger surged forward, overtaking even his overwhelming grief.

“What do you mean you haven’t gone after him!? ” He cried, pushing past his father to face Makalaurë head on. His cousin blanched, and Findekáno vaguely registered his father’s apologies over the roaring in his ears and the stinging tears in his eyes.

“You don’t understand, Findekáno, we don’t have the forces-”

“So Nelyo is only worth the forces it would take to save him?” he protested, jabbing Makalaurë in the chest. His cousins flinched. “He’s the crown prince of the Ñoldor, he’s your brother, he’s my-”

“It’s too dangerous, ” Makalaurë spat, turning back up the dias. “And Nelyo- and Nelyafinwë would agree with me, were he here.” In the corner of Findekáno’s eye his father nodded, and Findaráto stepped up to lay a hand on his shoulder.

“Kanafinwë is right,” his father said, stepping past Findekáno once more after Findaráto gently tugged his eldest back. “Forgive me, Kanafinwë , but this camp is clearly not in a position to withstand another loss, not one that could be prevented. You know that Nelyafinwë would agree, Findekáno; he would want us to grow stronger in the wake of his loss, not lose everything trying to make up for one ellon, no…no matter how much it hurts to leave him.”

“ No! ” he yelled, wrenching himself out of his cousin’s grasp. How could his father say such a thing? He had no doubts the lengths his father would go to had it been Anaire or himself or his siblings in the same situations. “No, you can’t pretend that this is over just like that! What is wrong with you, his family? How could you leave him behind like this?”

“I told you!” Makalaurë hissed, whirling around to face them once more. His brothers shifted uncomfortably, and Findekáno could feel Carnistir’s glare on his back as he trembled with anger. It was running through him like fire no matter what his father and cousin tried to smother it. “Nelyafinwë’s loss is a tragedy, but it is not one we can afford to dwell on, no matter-”

“ Can’t afford to dwell on? ” Findaráto asked. He laid another placating hand on Findekáno’s shoulder, dutifully ignoring how his seething cousin shrugged it off and placing it right back on his shoulder. “Laurë, please, he’s just grieving , and I know you are too. You don’t have to pretend it’s all in the past. Please, Laurë this isn’t a performance, you don’t have to act like you’ve moved on. ” Makalaurë looked pained as he gazed down at his (former?) lover.

“Please, let us focus on the matter at hand, Ingo. Nolofinwë, I assume you had concerns and queries before you knew of our, ah, losses, so maybe we can move on to that?” he deflected. “I assure you, this is for the good of our people-”

“Will you stop talking about moving on? ” Findekáno cried, smacking Findaráto’s hand away again. Anger was roaring through him, hot and burning; he couldn’t extinguish it if he tried. His lover, his Russ, in Angband, and no one was doing anything.

“Findekáno, please.” Nolofinwë warned. “I promise no one has forgotten about Nelyafinwë, but I think Kanafinwë is right, we have thousands of our scared, hungry and confused people a day's ride away and right here in this settlement. Don’t you think Nelyafinwë would want us to put their needs above the needs of one person?”

“Maitimo would help that one person and everyone else! My Russ would never leave anyone behind, he wouldn’t leave any of you behind!” Findekáno exclaimed, stalking up to where Makalaurë stood on the dias. The twins and Carnistir scooted closer as if to protect their older brother, but Makalaurë’s face hardened. “You’re all cowards, all of you, for leaving him behind! Cowards! What makes you think-”

“ Will you shut up!?” Makalaurë shouted, Song ringing through his cry. Findekáno toppled off the dias onto the floor at his father’s feet. He opened and closed his mouth, but not a sound would come out. “Findekáno, he told us not to come for him! He knew Morgoth might kill them, he wasn’t stupid. He knew he might not come back, and he knew that we’d lose even more trying, and so he told us to leave him behind should anything happen. He also told us to keep it a secret so that hate for Morgoth would only grow rather than make people think he led people into a parley for the silmarils knowing they could very well all die.”

“ No ,” Findekáno breathed. His voice was slowly returning as he scrambled up from the floor.

“ Yes!” his cousin exclaimed. “Do you think that I don’t miss my brother? That I don’t feel guilt over leaving him every second of every day, despite doing so on his direct orders, that I don’t care about everyone in this encampment saying the exact same things as you? I miss him every day, Finno, just as much as you! I know, you think it should be me instead, but you can’t change the fact that he’s gone, and I will not disregard the last orders of my brother just because you don’t think I care he’s gone!”

Makalaurë stood on the dias, chest heaving. Nobody spoke as the High King sank to his knees and dissolved into loud, wailing sobs. Findekáno didn’t know what he would say. It was so easy to be angry at Makalaurë, because at least his words would have some sort of effect; he could do nothing against the one who truly took his love, but now he found he couldn’t be angry at his cousin either. The twins rushed over and gently sat their brother back on the throne. Carnistir coughed from the side of the room, shooting Findekáno’s father a glance.

“I…ah…believe that this meeting is over.” Nolofinwë grimaced, pulling him away from the dias. “We can reconvene tomorrow if you please, my king.” Makalaurë sniffed and waved them away, and Findekáno despondently followed his father and cousin from the throne room. His voice had returned from Makalaurë’s command, but now that his anger had gone his grief was so heavy that it took his words from him all over again.

The only reason he’d come to Valariandë was to stay with Nelyafinwë. Thirty years across the ice full of pain, grief and despair later, he’d arrived in Valariandë only to find yet another loved one dead, and this time it was the one Findekáno cared about more than anything.

#tolkien #the silmarillion #silmarillion fanfiction #tolkien fanfiction #5 times they fought and 1 time they didn’t #fingolfin #fingon #finrod #maglor #celegorm #caranthir #curufin #Amrod #amras #glorfindel #finweans #the sons of feanor #russingon #maglor x finrod #finrod x maglor #5 + 1 things #5 + 1 fic #my writing

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 6)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer wants you to be the Mother of his child. Rated E bc Explicit.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

((This one fought me so hard, I just wanna get it out there and I’ll proof-read it later I’m sorry.))

The first time didn’t take, as you’d come to learn 3 days post-coitus with the Devil. It had left you bereft, not exactly disappointed but also not certain if you should go out and buy 150% proof alcohol to mark the occasion. 

You settled for enough wine to dull your senses before sending a text with your Hellphone. The fact that inter-dimensional phone lines were possible was simply added to the list of not-even-gonna-think-about-it of things that came with your new reality. 

A blood-curdling shriek from your pocket made you curse as you dove for it. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey-yy!” Lucifer responded cheerfully before clearing his throat. “So it um… it didn’t work?” 

“Unless being pregnant with hellspawn looks and feels exactly like my time of the month, no. It didn’t.” You said. 

He sighed on the other end, air blowing through the receiver and fucking up already poor reception. “Okay. Shit. Well, maybe we can work something else out—”

“I’ll just text you when it’s over and we can try again.” You replied as you leaned back against your headboard. 

“You-you wanna try again?” Lucifer’s surprise made your eyes roll.

“Yeah, just give me a couple days.” You’d felt a wave of fatigue crashing over you.

Suddenly you were boneless, barely able to even hold the phone up to your ear. Lucifer’s hesitant delight barely registered yet you could imagine him behind closed eyelids, smiling crookedly with those ivory fangs. 

“Y-I-uh, ok great! That works for me if it works for you!” He practically shouted. “Do you need anything in the meantime?”

“‘Mmmmffh, a nap.” Lucidity snapped back for a moment as you eyed the phone in your peripheral. “Also please don’t call or text me. I’m gonna throw this thing out the window if I have to hear someone screaming bloody murder one more time.” 

—

Lucifer being startled by the ringing of his Hellphone wasn’t at all peculiar. 

However — 

The sound of a love song, though tinny and compartmentalized to the King of Hell’s coat pocket, made Asmodeus perk up. 

He glanced down to see his diminutive brother rush for the device like his life depended on it. It was easy to feign polite indifference as Lucifer excused himself from the cafe table for a moment, but by the time the King had returned, Asmodeus was leaning forward expectantly. 

“That’s new.” He said. 

Lucifer looked up wildly, as if he’d been caught snatching aphrodisiacs from Ozzie’s own stores.

       “Huh, wha? What’s new?” He laughed off the embarrassment, re-taking his seat.

Asmodeous sipped from his teacup, clocking the many idiosyncrasies Lucifer displayed.

       He was flustered, still gripping the phone between his claws, and had perched on the edge of his seat so that he could bounce a leg against the ground. 

“Love songs aren’t your usual style, babe.” The Prince spoke casually, but his eyes were bright.

It was delightful to see Lucifer stiffen as soon as he realized what his companion referred to. One of the best about the short King was how easy he was to tease, if you asked the Embodiment of Lust himself. 

        “Didn’t know you were finally getting out there, Louie.” Ozzie teased. “Were you gonna keep it a secret? Even from me?”

“Oh n— out there? Me?! Ha! No!” Lucifer shook his hand fiercely. “I’m not — it’s not like that! We’re not dating! I mean, some might see it like that but a lot of others wouldn’t! She wouldn’t… probably!  It’s, ya see, actually — I — ahem, ah…” 

His embarrassment grew into something stranger, more conflicted and melancholy. The teasing smirk on Asmodeus’s face flattened. 

“It’s complicated.” He finished, looking down at his phone as if it were the sole reason for his sudden misery. 

Ozzie wasn't soft on many (in fact he’d argue that being hard was his speciality) but his brother was one of the few. 

The much larger Sin rested a hand against Lucifer’s back. “You wanna talk about it?”

—

The days that followed blurred together, monotony of aches and pains broken only by an insatiable libido. It was as if the promise of sex after this, however unfulfilling it might be, was the only thing keeping you alive. 

Lucifer’s bizarre consideration held up over that time, surprising you enough that when it was time to give him a ring, you weren’t as dread-filled as you could’ve been. 

        He did, however, arrive in your home via furnace suspiciously quickly upon making contact with you again. His normally pristine suit and and impeccably coiffed hair were ruffled and singed, like he’d made a mad dash to get to you. 

“Hell-Oh!” Lucifer had practically squeaked as you dragged him out by the lapels. 

You’re so pent up that it’s hardly a surprise when you find yourself sitting on his lap, having manhandled the short King onto your couch. 

His cold, smooth skin was still alien, but you powered through the initial aversion to chase after that zing that came with kissing him. It was addictive, even with the fear of being cut by his sharp teeth in the back of your mind. 

Despite yourself, you took a second to break away and breathe. 

Beneath you, Lucifer was positively flushed. His shiny, wet lips were parted in wordless awe, and eyes glazed over in his daze. 

“Fuck.” He croaked. 

You smirked, gripping onto the blond hair that had already been mussed and abused by overeager hands. Pointedly, you slid back and forth on his trembling lap. There was no way to ignore the hardness at his inner thigh. 

—

The first drag of his cock against your walls made you shudder, arching as your head fell back. 

Lucifer whined in his seat, claws digging into the plush of your thighs. The pain heightened the feeling of being stabbed twice, making your lower belly tremble. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fffffff —” His cries were so good, you couldn’t stop from grinding down onto him. “You feel so good. So. Good. You’re gonna kill me, sweetheart. I can't.”

“That’s ok.” You slurred, hands coming up to wrap loosely around his neck. “We can work on that.” 

Lucifer opened his mouth, but you were already planting kisses against the corner of lips mouth, his cherry-spotted cheeks, the line of his jaw and the pulse beneath his ear.

—

Your hands were focused on exploring the planes of Lucifer’s chest and shoulders. He wasn’t muscular — or tall, obviously, but the lithe body intertwined with yours was more than easy on the eyes. 

“You can touch.” It was hardly fair that yours were the only hands busy. The ruler of Hell was flat beneath you, artificial light from your bedroom lamp casting shadows on his marble chest. 

Lucifer’s mulberry-dappled lids remained low, highlighting the yellow glow of his eyes. His claws slid up your hips, reverently tracing your frame as you bounced lightly. 

“If you insist, princess.” 

He was more coy after the first few rounds, an easier grin sliding across his face. The trembling touches against your breasts spoke of the still-nervous creature you’d first been introduced to.

—

Daylight was waning again when you found knelt, back pressed against Lucifer’s chest. He fucked into you wildly, teeth pressed into your bare shoulder. 

The thought of him biting into you didn’t sound so frightful anymore. In fact the image set butterflies off in your stomach. 

That and the way he held you close, wrapped vice-like around you like a boa constrictor. 

“No baby, don’t go yet!” When you squirmed, Lucifer nuzzled into the side of your neck, breathing heavy. “Just like this. Please, baby.”

He pleaded into your neck, grip tightening to where you couldn’t breathe. 

— 

“Here.” You guided his hand, settling it between your legs. 

Lucifer’s thrusts had grown shallow and uneven, but hadn’t quite stopped. He seemed entranced, watching as you positioned his thumb over the bundle of nerves just above where you two were joined. 

“Gently. Watch your claws.” You murmured along with your hands-on teaching. 

When you felt he’d gotten the message, you sighed and concentrated on the circular motion against your clit. Lucifer remained attentive, moving clockwise as the pace he’d started before picked up again. 

In moments you tensed, pleasure sparking along your pubic bone. It built up as your eyes closed, head tipped back as you let yourself enjoy the pressure both inside and out. Your hips jerked upward of their own accord, core trembling and cunt spasming. 

Your partner whimpered at the new intensity, which only egged you on. Before you knew it, you two were rocking into a chaotic rhythm. 

With slit eyes, you saw Lucifer looking down at you, flustered yet rapt over your every little response.

“Yeah?” He asked breathlessly. 

You nodded. “Mm-hm.”

It was difficult. You could feel the tension in your belly contracting, the heat and pressure building against your clit. The feeling was mounting to where you couldn’t help your keens, your moans, your whimpers. 

It ended with a choked sigh. You arched from the bed, head falling back as you let your legs tremble and shake around him. The convulsions pulled the Devil in deeper, and the feel of him was enough to make your eyes roll back in your skull beneath fluttering eyelids. Another gush came at the thought of being so full you could feel it in your stomach. 

          Lucifer watched. His face was nearly as red as the apple that adorned his hat, knocked off of your bedside table. He had the expression of someone seeing a falling star for the first time. Stunned, eyes gleaming, unable to comprehend something despite how beautiful it was.  

The former Angel lowered himself to capture your mouth with his own. He pressed luxuriant kisses to your lips, all while his hips stuttered between your thighs until he was humping into you, refusing to separate skin from skin. 

His release was coupled with a heated groan, muffled by the slide of your tongue against his. You were glowing inside out, warmth blooming in your core as you held onto Lucifer tightly. 

— 

The woman had invited you up into her tree. It was a different tree from the last, not bearing any fruit but lush with green needles and strong boughs that wouldn’t break. 

She looks over her shoulder at you cheekily. “Aren’t you glad you decided to join me?”

You playfully scoff and roll your eyes. “You don’t need to be so smug about it.” 

“Oh I think I do.” The blonde tilted in your direction, arms coming to wrap around you. “I won.”

You stay that way, watching the nettles shake in the passing breeze. 

“Everyone loves a winner.” She says at your side.

You frown. “I love you no matter what.” 

The woman sighs. 

“You might not always.” 

—

Light humming woke you from your doze, along with the repeated motion of something against your cheek. 

It wasn’t until you’d opened your eyes that you realized it was Lucifer humming and caressing your cheek tenderly. He was nose(less) to nose with you, seemingly admiring your face slackened with sleep. 

“What’s that from?” You rasped. 

“Hmm?” The King stroked an errant hair behind your ear. 

“It’s a movie.” You continued, repeating the notes in your head. “Right? It’s from a musical…”

“You like musicals?” Lucifer asked, seemingly surprised. Fangs poked out of his close-lipped smile, and he looked goofier than ever before. 

You copied him, helpless to how silly he made everything. “What’s not to like?”

The lightbulb went off. “Oh! Cabaret. That’s where it’s from.” 

“Yeah!” Lucifer moved even closer, the flat of his face pressing against your nose as he nuzzled you for guessing the right answer. “It’s kinda old, isn’t it? How’d you guess?”

“Psh, you think my threshold for pop culture is only as long as the last ten years?” You teased, arm skating down his side so that you could pinch his behind. 

“Hey!”

***

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#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar

[a-case-of-attachment]

The Lamb & The Serpent

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Lucifer Morningstar x sinner fem!reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Lucifer being a chaotic mess, mentions of sex, swearing, slow burn, mentions of depression, Charlie being the best supportive daughter, awkwardness, mentioned of death and violence, ducks of the rubber kind, Lucifer being awkward, fluff.

Please click -> here <- to read on AO3

The day Lucifer manages to fuck up a perfectly good friendship by realising he wants more from you is the day he walks in on you and Angel Dust watching his latest porn video like it’s a documentary and not a three way that looks more painful then pleasurable.

It’s the middle of the day, the two of you down in the parlour, spread over the largest couch and acting like it’s no big deal to be watching a friend get split open by an aggressively large rhino looking man and an equally intimidating elephant guy whose trunk isn’t the only big thing he’s packing. Though to the little porn star it probably isn’t anything all that unusual and by the way he’s going on, talking about camera angles and lighting you would think it was some kind art piece. Anyway, it’s not the porn that has Lucifer questioning his life, though that stirs something at the back of his mind that he will circle back round to latter. Much latter. When he’s alone. Preferably in his bedroom. No what Lucifer realises is that he wants to be where Angel Dust is.

The lanky demon was stretched across the sofa, his bare feet in your lap so you could slowly rub your thumbs into his soles as you both spoke about the film like it wasn’t a crass tasteless violation of the man. It looked so domestic, peaceful and Lucifer wanted that to be you and him with a desperation he hadn’t felt in centuries. Though maybe with his head in your lap instead of his feet, your fingers carding softly through his hair as the two of you just exist together in the same shared space. Oh, he could almost feel it, the ghost of a feeling that he hadn’t had in so long. 

It was round about then, as Lucifer was just about to get lost in his little fantasy that Angel noticed he was there, eyes going wide momentarily before a suggestive smile spread across his face. He had made a rather unwanted comment about Lucifer not needing to “hide all the way back there handsome, there’s plenty of room for you to slide right in. Or maybe you want a private show? I could go for a little quality time with daddy.” Lucifer wasn’t. Interested that is. Well not in Angel Dust anyway. “Noooo. No, no, no. Non. Nein. Nee. Just no,” Lucifer had repeated himself several times, just to make sure he got his point across and pointedly ignoring Angel’s rather dramatic gasp and nonsense answer of Lucifer having broken his heart.

Whilst Lucifer and Angel had been talking you had turned to look over at him, clearly surprised by his presence but it quickly softened into something fonder, something that had Lucifers insides twisting like he was full of snakes. Had that always been the way and he just hadn’t noticed? Lucifer had liked having your attention in him for quite some time, but it was hard to tell if that was because he just liked knowing you were actually focused on what he was doing or because he got a little buzz of possessive satisfaction, knowing that he was the only thing you were focused on. Either way Lucifer didn’t dislike having your eyes on him and he would be quite happy to be the only person who held your attention in such a way.

You welcomed him the same way you always did, tipping your head forward slightly and addressing him as “my King.” Not your majesty, or Sir or Sire but as if he was your own personal monarch and oh boy, wasn’t that just something. He really liked the idea of being yours. Your anything but especially your king, your ruler, just yours in general really. Lucifer could feel his cheeks getting hotter as the realisation sank in, his grip tightening on his staff as he fought of the urge to shiver under your gaze. Oh, this was bad, so very, very bad. 

You pulled him out of his little panic by asking if he was there to see Charlie. The simple answer to that innocent question was no. Lucifer was at the hotel with the sole purpose of seeing you and hopefully convincing you to abandon whatever you had planned and help him with his ever-growing rubber duckie horde. A rather lame excuse if he had ever heard one but he was running out of legitimate reasons to get you to spend time with him more often than you usually did. He couldn’t tell you that though, so he eagerly jumped on the excuse, excitedly talking about wanting to “spend some quality daddy daughter time with my little Char Char,” and cringing when he remembered what the little spider had just said to him. It sounded off even to him, his forced cheer falling flat at the end and trailing off into an awkward laugh. You didn’t seem to notice his obvious discomfort though, smiling softly at him as you informed him that “Charlie and Vaggie are out at the moment, said something about meeting with Carmilla to discuss angel defences. They didn’t say when they would be back.” Lucifer felt his heart drop, his rather rubbish excuse at being at the hotel now completely useless thanks to his poor planning.

He was just about to make his excuses and go back to his ducks when you said the best thing, he had heard all day and asked him “do you want to stay? Angel gets a little too into his performances (hey!), and I would like the distraction when he really starts getting descriptive.” Lucifer jumped at the chance, blurting out a loud and eager yes before you had even finished talking. Both you and Angel startled at his outburst and Lucifer cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure as he told you that he “suppose I could help, though its going to cost you little lamb. Those little duckies aren’t going to count themselves.” He hadn’t expected you to agree but you had sticking out your hand for Lucifer to shake as you claimed it a deal. An innocent statement on your part but left Lucifer feeling taken aback by how easily you had agreed, then again you did like his duck collection, so it probably wasn’t that much of a sacrifice on your part.

You don’t stop smiling as you push Angel's feet off your lap, the man groaning and rolling his eyes as he moves to slump in the corner, giving you enough room to move up and leave a spot for Lucifer at the end. He feels incredibly stiff and a little awkward as he sinks into the space, sitting ramrod straight with his hands on his knees. He doesn’t know what to do, has never just casually hung out like this with people that weren’t you and he’s not sure if he’s supposed to be watching Angel Dust’s performance or if he would have been better off just making some sort of excuse and going back home to wallow in his awkward patheticness. You shift next to him, curling your legs up under yourself and leaning it towards him. Your breath is warm against his ear when you speak, sending a shiver down his spine and causing his cheeks to heat again. All you said to him was that you were “glad you decided to stick around,” before turning your attention back to the tv and starting up a conversation with Angel once more but it was enough to have Lucifer relaxing, his strained smile slipping into something softer and more genuine. 

Lucifer was still there when Charlie and Vaggie came back, except somewhere along the way he had ended up getting involved with yours and Angel’s conversation. He wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but Lucifer had found himself deep in conversation with Angel about the importance of foreplay and how “Valentino always skips it! It’s like he doesn’t understand how to please someone. It adds to the experience, gets everyone involved really going and trust me it makes the main event that much more pleasurable. That idiot just skips to the end like he’s going to blow within five seconds of getting anything on his dick. Oh! Hey Charlie, err, how much of that did you eh hear?” It wasn’t the ideal thing he wanted his daughter to hear him talking about, but he was surprisingly having fun. Plus, he had gotten to see you blush like a maiden when he had first mentioned about the benefits of having such a flexible tongue so he couldn’t say he regretted being part of it.

Charlie had been rather embarrassed about the subject of choice, even more so when Angle piped up and informed her that he was “learning all sorts of fun things Charlie. Like did you know that most women can’t get off just from getting a good dicking, they need murph!” Lucifer had been quick to put a stop to the conversation, shoving a pillow over the other mans face and shoving him off the couch. Ignoring yours and Angels giggling Lucifer had quickly strode round the couch and towards his daughter, grabbing his abandoned hat and cane as he went. He successfully managed to distract Charlie by asking “how was your day sweetie? I heard you went to see Carmilla Carmine, that must have been fun. Tell me about it.” Charlie had started talking almost instantly and Lucifer waisted no time in gently turning her around and ushering her away from the other two and the porn that was still playing quietly on the tv. 

Lucifer was listening to Charlie, hanging on every word and taking in as much information as he could because he wanted to know everything about his daughter but then he had caught movement out the corner of his eye and all his attention had snapped back to you. You were leaving, laughing at something Angel was saying as he draped himself dramatically across the back of the couch.  You spotted Lucifer staring almost instantly, offering him a bright smile as you waved, calling out about how “lovely to see you my King,” before disappearing up the stairs towards the bedrooms. Lucifer waved back sadly, his eyes following you until you disappeared from sight. The world felt that little bit dimmer as soon as you were gone Lucifer already missing your bright smile and cheerful disposition. Whilst his attention was on you, he didn’t notice the knowing look Charlie and Vaggie shared, or the way Angel Dust rolled his eyes and collapsed back onto the couch with a huff.

The weeks after that were weird to say the least. Lucifer didn’t know what to do with his newly realised feeling or the guilt he felt about moving on from Lilith when it had barely been a handful of years since she had left. He was a bit of a wreck actually, spending far too much time with his rubber ducks and complaining about how hard feelings were to deal with. It didn’t help matters that Charlie was finding every excuse she could to push you and him together. Anything from getting him to help you with things around the hotel, to sending you to pick up bits from his home that Charlie hadn’t shown an interest in for decades. 

You were always a good sport about it when the two of you found yourselves forced together again, laughing and making jokes about it and Lucifer did join in but it was strained as he panicked about how he was supposed to act around you now that he knew that this friendship between the two of you wasn’t enough. It was confusing and complicated, not helped by the fact he had no idea how you felt about him. Lucifer knew you liked him, at least as a friend but that was very different to liking him enough to let him smother you in kisses and worship at your feet. 

He had been out of the dating game for so long now, well actually he had never really been in it considering he had fallen for and married the first woman he had come across. He had zero experience with this kind of thing, and he highly doubted offering you an apple was going to do anything apart from make sure you were being fed. As much as it pained him to admit he needed help with this and there was only one person he felt comfortable enough with to even bother asking about this kind of stuff. 

Charlie was over the moon when he had finally managed to drag her away from the hotel and gotten out what his problem was. Lucifer could admit to himself that he had been worried about how she would react, fearful that she would think he was betraying Lilith, but Charlie had amazed him once again because she had been “so happy for you dad. I was, well after mum leaving you kinda closed yourself from everyone and I worried that you would you know, end up all alone. But not now! I mean look at you, going outside and talking to people. That’s amazing progress dad.” That had broken his heart a little, knowing that Charlie had been so worried about him ending up alone. Lucifer had done the only thing he could think of in the moment, pulling Charlie into his arms for a hug whilst thanking her for looking out for him and reassuring her that as long as he had her, he would never be alone. 

Charlie had laughed it off, brushing away her tears as she insisted that she wasn’t going anywhere. That had gotten Lucifer welling up, happiness welling up inside his chest until it felt like it was going to burst. He had been so worried that he had messed it all up with Charlie, convinced that no matter what he did it was never going to be enough to make up for the distance that had existed between them nearly her entire life but hearing her say that had been, well it was the best thing he had heard since Lilith had told him she was pregnant. It had been a rather emotional moment for the both of them, but it had brought them closer together. The gap between them that much smaller. 

The rest of his visit had been spent with Charlie coming up with a plan on how to win you over, convinced that Lucifer stood a real chance at taking possession of your heart. Lucifer wasn’t so sure though. Sure, he could be confident and charming but that came from being king and so much more powerful than everyone else stuck in the infernal blaze. He hadn’t needed to woo someone before. Lilith had just wanted someone to treat her like an equal and respect her whilst Eve had wanted to be free of her chains. It wasn’t like there had been any kind of competition either, Adam such a shitty husband that it had been easy to tempt his wives away from him. Though he had filled the earlier years of his and Lilith’s relationship with romantic gestures that had been very different to what humans now considered to be suitable displays of affection and he doubted you would be won over so easily with a horde of imp minions like Lilith had been. 

Charlie had so many grand plans, Lucifer franticly taking notes on things such as simple gestures like holding doors open or offering you an arm to hold as the two of you walked down the street all the way to those grand gestures like breakfast in bed and lavish gifts like diamonds and expensive perfumes. It was a lot and that didn’t even include all the date ideas she was throwing at him, Charlie already planning a romantic picnic on the hotel roof like it was a sure thing you would say yes when he asked you out. Lucifer had to put a stop to her grand schemes then, insisting that maybe it was too soon to be planning dates when he hadn’t even asked you out yet. Reluctantly she had agreed and instead they had circled back round to the little things, the simple gestures he could do to test the water before moving on to bigger and more obvious ones. By the time he left Lucifer had somewhat of a plan on how to win your heart and if there was a slight skip in his step then there was no one around to see it. 

Over the next few days Lucifer had started to implement his plan, starting with complimenting your outfit and making sure he opened every single door you went through if he was there. You gave him a few weird looks, but you never told him to stop so he considered it a win. On top of that he started to text you more, just little things about his day that he hoped would make you smile. He even phoned you a couple of times just to hear your voice. Though that had been a bit awkward. Lucifer wasn’t the best at holding conversations on the phone and the first time he had called you there had been a lot of lulls in the conversation, but you had still picked up the second time he called you, seemingly already prepared with conversation points that drew him in and had the conversation flowing easily in minutes. 

When you didn’t seem to dislike the attention, Lucifer had moved onto the next part of that plan, eggier and nervous all at once because he was about to get bolder and more obvious about how he felt. 

The most important part was to be more tactile with you. A brush of a hand here, a touch on the back there, maybe even brushing a stand of hair out of your face and sitting close enough together that he could press his leg against yours. In theory that was all fine, more than doable really, but the problem was that Lucifer hadn’t really touched anyone single Lilith and especially not in a way that was supposed to suggest something a little more intimate was wanted. Lucifer was touched starved, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to stop once her got to feel how soft and warm you are under his hands. Sure, he was excited for this part but that didn’t change the fact he was oh so nervous about it to.

What if you hated it? What if the very first time he tried to touch you, you told him get off and get away from you only to never speak to him again. It was a real worry, one that had him tugging at his hat and pulling his face as he shared that worry with Charlie, crying and whining about how “she’s going to hate me Charlie, I know it. As soon as I get a finger on her let alone a hand, she going to tell me to get lost and never want to speak to me again.” Charlie doesn’t say anything until his panicked and overly dramatic rant was over with, letting him get it all out even though some of the things he said were quite ridiculous. Once he was done though she had taken his hands in hers, offering a soft and reassuring smile whilst telling him that it was a “chance you’re going to have to take if you want to be with her dad. I don’t think she will turn you down, especially considering how much she’s been talking about you but there is always the possibility that your feeling might not be returned. Its something everyone has to consider when asking someone out but dad, of your serious about Y/N then it’s a risk you need to be willing to take and if not, well. At least things haven’t gone far enough that you can’t still be friends.” He’s stunned by her incite, her maturity. His little girl had grown up so quickly and was now a bright young woman capable of doing anything she put her mind to. Lucifer truly was proud of her and everything she had accomplished and didn’t hesitate to tell her whilst thanking her for being so open and honest with him.

His conversation with Charlie had left Lucifer with a lot to think about. His pride meant he didn’t handle rejection well and he knew that if you turned his advances down that there would be a period of time where his depression took over and he went back to making more silly little ducks then he knew what to do with. It would hurt to lose you because he really didn’t think he would be able to be around you afterwords without being rude or petty and he really didn’t want to be the reason you got hurt or upset. Maybe it would be better if he squashed down his feelings and just counted himself lucky to have you as a friend because he didn’t have hardly any of them, not real ones he could trust and be honest with. Asmodeus maybe, he could keep a secret and wasn’t all about the fucking like people assumed but it had been a while since Lucifer had spoken to him and well, he had never felt as close to him as he did you. The point was Lucifer didn’t want to lose you and if there was even a small chance that him carrying on with his courtship would result in that then wouldn’t he just be better off staying friends and being sure in the fact that he wouldn’t drive you away. 

The whole thing leaves him distracted and confused, Lucifer often getting lost in his thoughts when there were more important things he should be concentrating on. He doesn’t notice the concerned looks you and Charlie give him, or the hushed conversations as you glance nervously at him. He just doesn’t know what to do and he hates it, hates the fact that he feels so out of his depth when he had been so sure where he stood with you before all this romance rubbish had started. In the end though Lucifer doesn’t have to make the decision himself because you decide for him, and he couldn’t be happier. 

In an attempt to foster some sort of camaraderie between the hotel’s guests Charlie had implemented a monthly movie night where they each took turns to pick a movie they enjoyed in the hopes that it would get them all talking. Lucifer had accidentally become a part of that, Charlie having inverted him to join months ago in an attempt to spend more time together and get him out the house and Lucifer had just kind of carried on turning up, often sitting between you and his daughter and often needing one of you to explain what was going on because he had lost the plot after the first couple of minutes. Neither of you seemed to mind, even though you all knew that sometimes he did it on purpose, liking to hear your creative descriptions of what you were watching. 

This was a regularly scheduled event in his diary, so Lucifer hadn’t really though about not going until he found himself sat in the middle of the sofa, Charlie and Vaggie curled up together on one side and an very obvious space for you on his other side. He sat ramrod straight, hands clutching at his knees as he tried to come up with a plausible reason as to why you shouldn’t be sitting next to him. His mind came up blank though and before he knew it you were dropping down next to him with a sigh. You didn’t speak to him as you got yourself comfortable and Lucifer couldn’t even bring himself to look at you let alone talk to you. It felt weird, so different to how it had been, and he couldn’t help but wonder if this was how things were going to be between you now, the same yet not. 

Lucifer completely missed the first half of the film, eyes fixed on the screen yet not actually seeing it. He was just waiting for it to end and the chance to get away from this weirdness. He didn’t notice yours and Charlie’s silent yet rather animated conversation behind him, or the others looking at him like he was some new kind of crazy. He didn’t notice your loud sigh as you slumped down next to him, or the unsure looks you kept shooting him that slowly turned into determination. What he did notice though was your arm looping through his, your hand curling around his arm as you shifted closer to him. 

Lucifer was surprised his neck didn’t snap from how quickly it snapped to the side, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as he looked down at you with shock and bewilderment. You were nibbling at your bottom lip, ears turned down slightly and eyes fixed on Lucifers knee, looking very much like the innocent little lamb he often teased you about being. On the screen something exploded, the flash of light illuminating your eyes as you finally looked at him. Lucifer was captivated, trapped in their glow and oh how much he had missed this, having all your attention on him like he was the centre of your universe. You never took your eyes off him as you moved in close, leaning in so he would hear over the tv when you whispered, “is this ok?” Lucifer had barely managed to get out a yes around the lump of excitement that seemed to have formed in his throat. 

The smile you gave him was blinding but no where near as amazing of the felling of you leaning into him, your head resting on his shoulder as you turned your attention back to the tv. Lucifer continued to watch for a while, mesmerised by your ever-present smile and the way your eyes light up with the light from the tv. All his worries and fears about allowing himself this vanished the moment you had touched him because this felt right, like everything just clicked into place. And to think he almost missed out on this. With his own content sigh and smile Lucifer relaxed into it, one hand resting on your bent knee whilst he raised the other to cover your one that was curled abound his bicep. He let his head tip slightly, resting it against the top of yours and just enjoyed the closeness. He didn’t notice Charlie squealing behind him or Angel Dusts eye roll and mumbled “about damned time.” Lucifer was lost in his own little bubble of contentment and nothing short of an angel attack was going to change that. 

From then onwards Lucifer was an unstoppable force of wooing. He had no problem invading your personal space after that, nor did he mind getting his hands on you though he had been right, once he was allowed to touch Lucifer found it very hard not to and not to mention how all this innocent skin on skin contact was making him think about all the other less innocent touches he could be bestowing upon you. That had led to a few embarrassing moments where he had needed to excuse himself rather quickly to avoid you noticing what was happening. It also resulted in some rather pleasant dreams that he was always reluctant to wake from, knowing he would be left feeling disappointed and guilty when he finally opened his eyes.  

Complements came thick and fast as did the gifts though he had to admit he might have gone a bit overboard with some things. Like filling the entire hotel with white roses that smelt like freshly made popcorn or making every kind of food he could think of appear when you said you were hungry. In his excitement he might have forgotten about plates and Vaggie really hadn’t been too happy about the stack of pancakes that had ended up on top of her head. Though you had found it funny, using your fingers to scoop up some of the ice cream that was dripping down his face before licking it off your fingers. Lucifer had never really understood food porn before but that right here was enough to convert him. 

Other things had gone over better. Like a bottle of perfume that smelt like freshly cut grass, a crystal ball that swirled with the colours and patterns of a universe and your own personal rubber duck that Lucifer had spent weeks experimenting with so it would act like an actual duck, though he might have gotten it a little wrong because it had a few dog qualities that he hadn’t quite been able to get out. But hey, you had loved it, so Lucifer considered it a win, even if the thing growled at people every now and again. The first time he had seen you with the silly little thing perched on your head he had nearly combusted with how cute you had looked. He had taken what felt like thousands of photos, following you around the hotel and telling anyone and everyone you passed how adorable you were only to snap more photos as you blushed at his compliments. He would have been happy to continue just showering you with gifts and compliments, happy that he was making you happy, but it wasn’t quite enough. Lucifer wanted more and he wasn’t going to get that with expensive gifts and sugar sweet words. 

When he had been with Lilith, they had gone on the grand total of three dates and considering one of them was when she was still in the garden Lucifer didn’t really count it as an actual date because all they had done was sit next to a secluded lake and talk. It had been nice, real nice actually and from that one little date their relationship had blossomed and grown into something Lucifer would cherish for all eternity. It’s not exactly up to par with modern standards though and Lucifer really didn’t want to rehash his old material. It wouldn’t be fare to Lilith and it sure as hell wouldn’t be fare to you. You weren’t a replacement for his ex-wife and Lucifer really didn’t want you to ever think that was what this thing between the two of you was. So, he needed new material, something that was uniquely suited to you and guaranteed that you would say yes when Lucifer asked you to be his. 

The other rings were out considering you were a mortal sinner and couldn’t leave the pride ring. A shame really because they really did have some amazing restaurants and bars down in gluttony that he thought you might have enjoyed. It would have been nice to take you to Lu Lu Land, Lucifer able to show off his most successful creation, well second most successful next to Charlie. But just like gluttony that was out of the question. That left him with the rather nauseating thought of doing something in Pentagram city and that was a solid pass on his part because the city was a huge disgusting dumpster fire of nope full of psychopathic freaks that Lucifer would rather not have to deal with when he was trying to be all romantic and suave. 

It left him with a rather stressful dilemma, Lucifer locking himself away in his workshop as he tried and failed to come up with anything he thought was worthy of your time. It had him pulling at his hair and throwing his ducks around in frustration. This shouldn’t be this hard, mortals did it all the time and yet he couldn’t come up with anything better than afternoon tea in Cannibal Town because despite the fact it was full of flesh hungry sinners it was still the nicest part of this trashy city, he just didn’t think you would be a fan of being given finger sandwiches made from actual fingers. Groaning he had slumped forward, banging his head on his desk and mumbling about how he was “stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course she wouldn’t want to eat people, that’s gross and weird. Come on Luci, think, think, think.” With a headache forming and the sense of pathetic failure growing, Lucifer was saved in the form of a text from Charlie, asking for his help at the hotel. It was like a switch being flipped, the conversation he had with his daughter all those weeks ago coming back to him in full clarity. It was perfect, a plan already starting to form in his mind, and it was with a maniacal laugh that Lucifer snatched up his phone and called Charlie, roping her into his plans. 

It was a lot easier from then on, Lucifer knowing exactly what he wanted to make it perfect for you. Charlie was more than happy to help, even getting the other residents of the hotel to keep you busy so you wouldn’t notice what was going on. You weren’t stupid though and Lucifer knew that you had suspicions, especially when everyone was being a bit too obvious about keeping you away from him whenever you caught a glimpse of him around the hotel. It was worth it though, Lucifer proud of what he had managed to accomplish. All that was left now was to get you up there and woo the socks off you. 

Everyone played their part, pretending that Angel Dusts little piggy had run off and organising a search party to find it before that no-good Radio demon eat it. You were given the upper floors to search, including the roof and all Lucifer needed to do was wait patiently for you to find him and his surprise. Patiently lasted all of five minutes though and as the seconds ticked by he began nervously bouncing on the balls of his feet before giving in and pacing around the small space, muttering to himself the whole time about how it was taking you “so long. It’s just three floors you should be done by now. Maybe he should go and find you, speed things up a little.  No, no, no. The whole point is you’re supposed to be up here to surprise her Luci. What if you go down and she gets here before you find her and ruins the whole thing. Fuuuck. What to do. What to do.”  Just as he’s about to start pulling his hair out Lucifer hears it, the loud groan of the roof access stairs being pulled down. He quickly scrambles to get in position, fixing his hair and grabbing up the bouquet of red and white roses that fallen to the floor as his distress grew. He had taken off his jacket and hat, stashing them away along with his cain to go for a more casual look, a wide smirk plastered across his face as he tried not to bounce excitedly.

He heard you before he saw you, your mumbled complaints carrying up as you flung open the access hatch. You weren’t looking his way when you climbed out onto the roof, still muttering under your breath as you brushed dust and dirt off your clothes. Lucifer remained silent though, holding his breath as he waited for you to turn around and look his way. When you finally turned to him you gasped, hand flying up to cover your mouth as you stumbled back slightly. Lucifer laughed nervously, thrusting out the bouquet of flowers toward you and awkwardly greeting you with a “hey you.” You regained your composure quickly, smiling softly as you made your way over to him and tacking the flowers with a quick thank you. Lucifer stood there for a long few moments, his brain having come to a sudden hault as he watched you lift the bouquet up to smell the flowers. They weren’t real roses; you didn’t get flowers like that down here, but Lucifer had done his best to recreate them though he couldn’t really remember how they smelled so he had made the white one's smell like freshly made popcorn and the red ones like candy floss. You didn’t seem to mind, humming appreciatively as you stared back at him. 

You had pulled Lucifer out of his little daze by leaning to the side to look at the scene behind him, asking if “that’s what you’ve been up to all day?” Eager to show you what he had done Lucifer nodded, enthusiastically taking your hand and pulling you along with him. There was a large blanket on the floor, practically surround by a mountain of cushions and other blankets. There were more flowers, big vases of the roses with candy apples and fern leaves dotted throughout, with candelabras strategically places around the edges of the blanket to give the area a warm glow. He had champagne on ice, two glasses waiting nearby and several platters of food that could be easily picked up with their fingers. 

You gently placed the flowers you had been holding on the floor before sinking down onto the cushions, Lucifer following close behind and sitting close enough to you that your legs touched. Glasses of champagne were poured, food offered and the two of you slipped into easy conversation. It was surprisingly intimate, the sounds of the city nothing but a dull murmur in the background. From their advantage point they could see almost all of pentagram city, all the way from Imp City to Cannibal Town. Though all of Hell was his to rule this was Lucifers domaine and though it was quite literally on fire in some places he still wanted to show off how much power he had though knowing he was the King of Hell had never seemed to mean all that much to you.

As the evening went on and the champagne slowly disappeared the two of you got closer until Lucifer was leaning back against the cushions with you tucked up against his side, an arm draped over your shoulder as the two of you sat in silence and looked out across the city. It was comfortable, Lucifer felt comfortable, like himself for once but he knew he had to break the peaceful little bubble the two of you were in because he had a rather important question he needed to ask and if he didn’t ask it now, well, he wasn’t sure if he ever would. 

Lucifer put his mostly empty glass down before nervously clearing his through. That caught your attention and had you turning to look at him before he was ready. Whatever you saw on his face had you frowning, placing down your own glass so you could turn more fully to look at him. Lucifer could tell you were about to say something, but he couldn’t afford to lose his nerve, so he held up a hand to stop you, telling you that he “need to err ask you something?” So, what if it came out more like a question, at least he had managed to get it out. Your eyes widened slightly, ears twitching up and mouth forming an ‘o’. With a reassuring smile you took his hand in yours, nodding encouragingly and waiting for him to continue. 

Swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat, Lucifer glanced off to the side, tugging at the suddenly tight collar of his shirt. He felt your hold on his hand tightening, his eyes darting back to you and that look of reassurance and excitement that gleamed in your eyes. It was enough to calm his nerves and he placed his other hand over the tops of yours, taking a deep breath before asking that one little question that was sure to change his life regardless of the answer you gave. “Would you, like to date, me?” 

Your smile widened, stretching at your cheeks and looking almost painful. Freeing one of your hands from his you placed it on his cheek, thumb rubbing gently across it. Your voice is so soft but full of certainty and something Lucifer didn’t want to say was love, not yet anyway. It was a simple “yes Lucifer,” but it had his heart soaring like he was flying high above the city.  Lucifer couldn’t help but laugh, flinging himself forward and wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. He was so happy, couldn’t quite believe that you had said yes but still unapologetically happy that you had. You laughed with him, wiggling in his hold until you got your arms free, looping them around his neck. Lucifers grip tightened around your waist, pulling you in just that little bit closer. It meant that he had to tip his head back slightly to look you in the eyes but that wasn’t a hardship, especially not when you leant down, eyes darting to his lips then back up to his eyes. It was a silent question, one Lucifer answered by tipping his head back more, his eye closing and holding his breath as he waited for you to bridge the gap. 

Your lips were soft against his, just a gentle brush against his as if you were testing it out. Lucifer dug his fingers into the fabric of your dress, a content sigh passing from his lips to yours. That seemed to be the only permission you need because in the next second your lips were firmer, slow and confident as you traded one kiss after another. It was everything Lucifer had hoped it would be, as sweet as candy apples and just as addictive.

So lost in one another neither of you noticed that the access hatch was slightly open, or the two sets of eyes looking out from the darkness. You didn’t hear the muffled cheers or the even more muffled complaint about how “disgustingly lovey dovey those weirdos are going to be now? I guarantee ya, every five seconds they’re gonna be making cow eyes at each other and professing their love. I already feel sick just thinkin’ about…Ow! Watch the goods toots.” You didn’t see the rather annoyed radio demon down below twiddling his mic in his hands or Charlie sticking her head out of a window and gesturing upwards franticly. You didn’t hear him huff and roll his eyes or him waving his mic around until colourful explosions of light filled the sky behind you. The two of you were completely oblivious to the world around you, lost in the moment. 

Neither of you had thought this was how things would end up the first time you had met and though you were both aware that things wouldn’t be as easy as they seemed right now you were willing to take the risk. Sure, there would be ups and downs, things that would need addressing like Lilith and the wedding ring Lucifer still wore and the fact that you were a sinner, bound to the pride ring. There was the hotel and heaven to consider, not to mention all the threats from within hell. Those were all things to worry about latter though because for now, with you in his arms and his relationship with Charlie so much better than it had been Lucifer was happy and nothing could take that away from him. 

At least for now. 

@lxkeee

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel x fem reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #lucifer magne #lucifer magne x fem!reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x fem!reader #lucifer x fem!reader #lucifer x female reader #lucifer x reader #reader insert #fem!reader

[ellecdc]

Come Back, Be Here (part 5)

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 3.5k p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

⚠️CW: graphic descriptions of injury, blood & gore, combat (people die), painful goodbyes, swearing (I wrote it so there's swearing, but I think you all know that by now)

Synopsis: The story of how you sacrificed yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before. And what the fuck is Kreacher up to?

👋AN: I have never written (well anything TBF) combat/action before and I was very uncomfortable the entire time so I'm 1) glad it's over (for now) and 2) very sorry if it's awkward or painful to read. I'd love feedback or suggestions as I believe this story may involve more. xx

The spring-time sun meant you had an easier time staying comfortable during the day, but as the sun dipped below the top of the building across from you, it was becoming increasingly harder to stay warm. You sat on an overturned crate in an abandoned building watching the alleyway below you as you nibbled on a granola bar. It tasted like ash.

“Should we check in again?” James asked, leaning in front of you to peek out the partially broken window.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “We checked in only minutes ago, Prongs.”

He hummed in disgruntled acknowledgment. 

“Do you ever think about just like jumping when you look out a window?” James asked as he leaned a little too close to the jagged edge of the window for your liking.

“Pardon me?”

“You know, like when you’re on a bridge and you think ‘I could totally just launch myself off of this right now’, or when you’re holding something really expensive or delicate and you just want to throw it at a wall.”

You stared at your friend for a moment.

“Those are called intrusive thoughts, Jamie.”

“Are they bad?”

“Only when they stop being thoughts and turn into actions.”

“Got it.” He said with a nod.

“Hey, James?”

“Yeah.”

“Step away from the window please.”

He sighed and plopped down unceremoniously beside you. You offered him the rest of your granola bar which he only accepted once you assured him you were finished. 

You moved to sit on the floor so the two of you could play tic-tac-toe in the dust. James complained about breaking a nail and you agreed to check in with Emmeline and Benjy twice more over the following few hours.

“Okay; fuck, marry, avada: Helga Hufflepuff, the Minister of Magic, Merlin.” James asked.

You blew out a breath and leaned back onto your hands. “Hmmmm, how many times do I have to fuck them?”

“Just once.”

“Okay, and do I have to stay married forever and ever?”

“Uh, duh. Till death do you part.” He answered incredulously. 

“Will I die soon?”

James gave you an unimpressed look.

“Okay, uhm, ugh, I hate politicians, James.”

“I don’t want your life story, just answer the question.” 

“Fine. Fuck Merlin, marry Helga, avada the Minister.” You said, though you couldn’t help but cautiously look over your shoulder lest the Minister himself hear your treasonous answer. 

“Explain.”

“I just think Helga would treat me right.”

James nodded solemnly. “And the others?”

“You just said you didn’t want my life story.” 

“You’re right. Do me next.”

“In your dreams, Potter.”

James rolled his eyes. “Get your mind out of the gutter.” 

You chuckled and looked down at the street again.

“I don’t know James; it’s been pretty quiet. How long have we been here?” 

James shifted his weight to one hand in order to check his watch. “Well, we got here at, what, eight this morning? It’s been about twelve hours of nothing.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. “What do you think? Do you want to get home to Lily and Haz, or keep watch?” 

James groaned. “I always want to go home to Lily and Haz, but Benjy and Em were on this stake out yesterday too.”

You nodded and stood. You conjured your patronus and told Benjy and Emmeline that it was quiet enough for them to leave, and that James and you would stay for a little bit longer just in case. The silvery fox jumped once before it disappeared through the walls of the building, sending your message to the other team.

James chuckled. “Do you remember how pissed off Sirius was when he found out you had become an animagus?”

You smirked at the memory. “That was back when he hated me.”

James guffawed. “He never hated you.”

“Yes, he did!”

“Nuh uh, he thought he was playing it cool, but he fell just as hard for you as I did with my Lily flower.”

You shook your head. “No one fell as hard as you did, Jamie.”

“Too true.” He agreed. “I’m the best at everything I do.”

“I think he was mostly mad that I’d managed to do it by myself, whilst the three of you bumbled your way through it together.”

“Yeah. You started after us and managed to finish before Pete did.”

You chuckled at the memory.

(Hogwarts boat-house, 4th year)

“I don’t understand why you’re getting so worked up about this.”

Sirius looked at you incredulously. “Uhm, how about because it’s dangerous? What even compelled you to do something like this?”

“Uhm, you guys were doing it?”

“So?”

“So? If you can do it, why can’t I?” 

“Do you know how much trouble you could get into for this?” He asked while pinching the space between his brows.

“Why? Are you going to rat me out?”

Sirius guffawed. “I’m not a snitch, Dollface.”

You smiled wickedly at him. “Good, then shut up about it.”

You stood and stretched your limbs, stiff from the day of waiting for nothing to happen.

“I’m confused, James.” You said, poking your head into the window again. “Didn’t the tip suggest that this was a major meeting spot for Death Eaters and allies?”

James hummed in acknowledgement. 

“Then why haven’t we seen anything all day?”

He looked at you curiously. “I don’t know...isn’t no news good news?”

You groaned. “I don’t know. Not if we’re to believe the tip.”

“You think it was false?” 

You made a non-committal sound as you started to pace the room. 

“I mean, I guess it is weird for nothing to happen two days in a row.”

You stopped dead in your tracks. “Two days?”

James nodded at you. “Yeah, Emmeline and Benjy were here yesterday.”

“They were here yesterday?”

“Are you feeling okay? I literally just said that.” 

“Fuck, James, where did this tip come from?”

James scrunched his eyebrows. “I don’t know, Vix.”

You both stared at each other for a few moments. “I think we should leave.” You said.

“Apparate to location seven?” James asked as you helped him stand.

“Yep.”

You both pulled your wands and spun to apparate.

You looked at each other in confusion. 

After a quick nod, you both spun again.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You muttered before moving back to the window; neither teams had any problems apparating in or out earlier today.

“Vix, this isn’t good.” 

“Alright,” you breathed out, squaring your shoulders, “alright. Let’s scout the area. We’ll find out where this anti-apparition ward ends and get the hell out of here.”

James, looking far paler than he had moments ago, offered you one nod before getting into stance and following you to the door. 

You grabbed the handle and heard an awful searing sound before you realized it was the sound of your hand against the metal doorknob. 

“FUCK!” You shouted as you pulled your hand away, blisters already littering the palm of your hand. James quickly cast an auguamenti over your hand followed by a glacius. The stinging slowly subsided but you could still feel your heartbeat in your palm, and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. 

James leaned his ear closer to the door. “I...I feel like I hear a dragon?”

You paled. 

“Fiendfyre.”

You moved over to the window and cast a despulso, shattering the remaining glass and leaning out of it. 

“This way.” You said to James over your shoulder before changing into Vixen and jumping down two storeys. Your paws stumbled beneath you as you landed awkwardly, but you fared better than you would have in your human form.

James looked down at you from the window as you changed back to your human form before giving him a quick nod. He jumped and you cast an arresto momentum, slowly lowering him to the ground. 

You both tried to apparate again to no prevail. James cast a revelio which illuminated the shimmery grid lock of the ward around you. 

“It doesn’t look like it goes far. We just need to make it to the street.” James said as he nodded his head down the alleyway. 

You began in that direction when two shadowy, masked figures stepped into the alley from the street. You huffed and figured you’d fare better on the other end, save having to climb over the barbed wire. When you turned again to run, another set of masked figures stepped out on that end too.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” One of them sing-songed. 

“Through the building.” James commanded and the two of you moved to the door of the building across the alleyway.

James cast a despulso to open the door as you threw a bombarda at the second set of Death Eaters. You narrowly dodged a confringo as more bolts of light shot your way.

You ran down the hall, looking around corners for signs of an exit. You passed a hallway and felt a hand grab your arm before you were slammed into the wall.

A wand was pressed to your throat when you heard James cast a flipendo. The wizard pinning you was sent flying, so you righted yourself and grabbed James’s hand before sprinting down the hallway again. 

You shot a hex at a fire extinguisher as you passed it which fogged up the hallway behind you. 

“Confringo!” A voice suddenly shouted from ahead. A ball of fire hit James’s square in the chest as he moved to block you from it. He fell to the ground with a thud as you cast a protego around the two of you. 

Three more casts bounced off of your shield before you shot an incendio at them, watching the robes and masks melt away before the wizards turned to ash. 

“You idiot!” You gritted through your teeth as you cast healing charms over James’ burn. 

“Wake up James, get your arse up.” You insisted, gripping his chin and shaking his head back and forth. 

You looked up at the sound of running and shot another bombarda behind you. The sickening sound of a body hitting a wall and sliding to the ground let you know you hit your mark as you continued to rouse James.

“You need to get up James. Come on, let’s go.” You said as you hauled him into a sitting position. You mentally cursed him and his dedication to the gym as you tried to manhandle his 183cm (six-foot) pure muscle figure. The movement caused him to groan.

“Yes, come on Prongs, get up, we need to go.” You insisted, giving him another shake. The burning in your hand was starting to return and you felt the beginnings of a wicked headache coming on. You could hear shouting from the floor above you – you had company. 

The wall behind you exploded suddenly and threw you both across the hall. Your head made a sickening crack as it met the brick wall and James was covered with rubble.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You moaned as you felt heat spread down your neck. You ripped a large piece of glass from your right thigh as you stood, which began to bleed far too quickly for your liking. Wobbly as all hell, you moved over to James and pulled the cinderblocks from his body.

“Come on Potter,” you muttered. “You’ve got a wife and kid at home.”

He groaned in agony as you pulled him into a crouch.

“And you’ve got a Sirius.” He slurred.

“Exactly,” you grunted as you used your wand to throw a piece of wall at some assailants to your left. “And if I go home to my boyfriend without his boyfriend, he will have my head.”

Both of you hissed in pain as you stood, but you trudged through the rubble and moved to the end of the hall. You pushed through a door which brought you out into an alleyway parallel to the one you guys had just been in. You cast a revelioand saw that the anti-apparition ward ended at the sidewalk about ten yards away. 

The sound of an explosion followed by screaming made you turn. The building you and James had been in for your stake out had been completely consumed by the fiendfyre and was spreading to the building you just exited. 

“The fiendfyre caused friendly fire.” James muttered. 

You pushed at his shoulder and directed him toward the street. “James, this way, we’re almost-” 

“BOMBARDA.”

“No!”

The wind was knocked clean out of you and your senses vanished. You saw bright white and couldn’t hear anything past the ringing in your ears. You tried to stay calm as you willed your lungs to take in more air. 

You were aware of someone standing above you, or in front of you, but you couldn’t see or hear them. There were hands, warm hands, you were being shaken. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.” 

Choking.

You could hear choking.

You could hear!

You hear yourself choking. 

You sucked in a deep breath that caused an unbelievable amount of pain in your stomach; the breath shuddered as it left your body. 

“No, no, no. Vix please.”

You opened your eyes. Though your eyesight was still white around the edges you could see James’ face in front of yours.

“Y/N, we’re almost there.” James whimpered, tilting his head toward the sidewalk where the ward line ended. You lifted your hand to your head even though it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds and when you pulled your hand back it was red. 

“James.” You choked out. “Go, I’ll find you.”

“Y/N.”

You attempted to sit up straighter, but it elicited a strangled sob from you. You felt a strange pressure in the left of your stomach, and when you looked down you could see why.

Your head, also feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds, lolled as you lifted your shirt to expose a metal rod that had impaled you from behind. Your view of the injury quickly became obscured as blood flowed from the wound. Between the wound to your thigh, and now your stomach, the gravel below you was quickly becoming drenched in your blood. You knew then. This injury was well beyond either of your wheelhouse.

“Jamie.”

“No.”

“James.” You whined quietly, lolling your head back against the fence behind you. “You have to go.” 

“Y/N, I won’t. I cannot leave without you.” 

“You have to.” 

“No.” He cried miserably. 

You took a few breaths, heart hurting both from blood loss and for your partner.

“What about Sirius? Hm?” He shot at you.

You smiled at the thought of your sweet boy. You felt like you could smell him now; worn leather, caramel, and his cigarettes. You knew he tried to spell the smell away, but it never really worked; you’d learned to associate the scent with him though, so you mostly didn’t mind. 

“You’ll take care of him for me, won’t you?” You asked your friend, offering him a tired smile. Tears fell from his eyes; he was too pretty to cry, you thought. 

“Vix, please, he needs you.”

“Thank him for me?”

James sobbed.

“I’m so-” you grunted and fought the urge to gag. “I’m so thankful for him. For all of you.”

“Y/N.”

“Tell him I’d do it all again. Every moment of it. If it meant I got to love him.” You breathed in deeply. “It was worth every minute of it.” 

A portion of the building behind James collapsed in on itself under the flames, but neither of you moved your gaze from the other. 

“Tell him for me?” You asked again.

James’s face was scrunched in pain as he nodded.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He cried.

“I’m not.” You said as you shook your head. “I don’t re-I don’t-” You tried to take a deep breath but found yourself unable to.

“I don’t regret anything.” You finished on an exhale. 

The building behind James continued to fall as smoke and debris fell around the two of you. You shakily lifted one of your hands to his face and wiped at the tear tracks lining his cheeks. You lifted your wand in the other and cast a diffindo at the death eaters approaching behind him. You were thankful your vision was going, knowing the sight behind James would be unbelievably gruesome. 

“I-” you started, your breathing becoming erratic. “I love you. All of you.”

James nodded as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. 

“I am so lucky to have known you, Vix.”

“Go now.” You said quietly.

James held your head to his shoulder.

“You - you have to go.” 

James kissed your head again.

“Go.”

You rested your head against your own shoulder as you watched James hobble to the end of the alleyway. You did it, you thought to yourself, you saved him.

James made it to the sidewalk when he turned to face you. You tried to offer him one last smile as he spun and apparated away.

A sob tore through you, and it felt as though it emptied your lungs of any remaining air. 

No matter, you wouldn’t need air anymore anyway.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it home, Siri.” You thought. “I’ll find you in our next life, and I’ll love you there too.” 

With a shuddering sigh, you fell asleep. 

It was dark. It made sense. Death would be dark. Should it be cold? Perhaps. You only wished it wasn’t also painful. It was quiet, but you could hear.

“Why waste your energy on a pathetic mudblood?”

“Information. Knowledge is power, after all.”

“Couldn’t you have found a mudblood that wasn’t so close to death then?”

“We would’ve had more to choose from had someone not thought to fight with fiendfyre instead of a good old incendio.”

“Incendio was boring, I wanted to spice things up a little.”

“Your penchant for spice lost us numbers, Junior. The Dark Lord will not be pleased.”

“Then we’ll get the mudblood talking. Once we get information, the numbers won’t matter.” 

“You ignorant-”

“Enough! What’s done is done. Someone will have to take responsibility for the repercussions when the time comes.”

“Severus is right. For now, the mudblood comes with me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The last prisoner did not even survive the night under your watch.”

“Pfft. You should have heard the mouth on that nasty witch. I did the world a favour.”

“Foulness tends to be a common trait of the Order. Please do keep up, Goyle.”

“I do not see how you are in any position to be barking orders around here. You are barely out of Hogwarts yourself, child.”

“Yes, and this child received their dark mark before they even graduated. In fact, Mulciber, I have had my mark longer than you.”

“What do you even want with the mudblood anyway?”

“Trying to keep it in the family, baby Black?”

“Yes, Purebloods tend to do that. I can see that your ancestors kept it a little too close to home, however.”

“You don’t know what to do with a prisoner; let the rest of us enjoy her a little.”

“I am not concerned about enjoying, you imbecile. I work for the Dark Lord, that is my only concern. I am one of the most skilled legillimens and occlumens here, I will not let my dick get in the way of getting information for the Dark Lord, unlike the rest of you, so I will take the mudblood.” 

“Hmph, well, we’ll see how long this lasts.”

You listen: Doors. Floorboards. Parchment. Fireplace.

...

...

“You’re awake.”

...

...

...

“Squeezing your eyes shut will not change the fact that I know you are awake.”

Are they talking to me?

“Yes, I am talking to you.”

Shit.

“Very elegant.”

I’m fucking alive?!

“Indeed, you are.”

You peeled your eyes open and blinked against the light above you. The room was dark, with dark-grained wood on the ceiling and walls, and little light save from the gaudy chandelier above you and a tiny window letting in a minuscule amount of light which seemed to dissipate by the time it reached one foot from the source.  

Your neck cracked loudly as you turned your head to the voice, and you swore you felt your heart fall out of your feet.

“You can’t be serious?” You rasped disbelievingly. 

“Close, but no.” The man smirked as he stood and moved toward the table you were lying on. “The name is Regulus. Regulus Arcturus Black.”

You felt your heart rate pick up as you stared at the face of a man who held an uncanny similarity to your boyfriend. 

“I don’t suppose you happen to know occlumency, do you?”

You shook your head; unsure you could voice anything more than a horrified whimper.

“Shame. Well, for your sake, I hope you are a quick learner.” 

And he stupefied you. 

(Present)

“Kreacher, what have you done?” You spat angrily, twisting your arm in his grasp. He appeared wholly unimpressed with the situation and less than inclined to respond to you.

“Let go.” You muttered as you tried to tear your arm from the house-elf. For looking so small, thin, and well, decrepit, he was surprisingly strong. You considered pulling your wand when someone spoke.

“Release her.”

Your head shot up at the sound. You were met with a scarily familiar smirk that left you feeling weightless.

The elf obeyed, though you wish he hadn’t as you suddenly felt weak in the knees. 

“Welcome back, Y/N.” He smirked as he stood from his perch on the edge of an ornate desk. “Ready to finish this?” 

Continue to part six here.

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