#but he's just as trapped and scarred as his 'brothers' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

justagirlwholikesadam · 3 months

Text

Queen Bee

Remus Lupin x Fem! Malfoy! Reader x Sirius Black

Summary: Remus and Sirius have a third in their relationship which is kept in secret due to their older brother, Lucius Malfoy and because they are a Slytherin.

A/N: I know that the fandom of Harry Potter have a fancast on these two as younger version but i just love the actors who played the older version, so I'm thinking abt them while writing this. By the way, I haven’t read the books so if something doesn’t make sense or things are out of order. Just ignore it or stop reading. :) Enjoy - L || Border Credit: @cafekitsune

Warning: SFW, NSFW, threesome, reader got white hair, we are Targaryens for a min lol, cum kisses, creampie, talks about life after school, we taking them both, queen bee, everyone is in love, bullying, fighting back. bad childhood, abusive parents

Word Count: 6.5K

Euphoric, that's what he's been feeling since he met you well since they met you. He knows that his feelings for you are a mutual thing with Sirius.

Sirius and Remus were both infatuated and hopelessly in love with you. They laid together at night and they whispered to each other about you as they shared kisses, they spoke about how they were fortunate enough to have a third like you. Someone kind, someone who loves them for them. They talked about the way you smile, the way you speak when excited about something. They talked about your voice and your moans. The taste of your skin, your lips and your cunt. They were whipped for you just as they are with each other.

This relationship was kept in secret just like Remus and Sirius’ relationship was under wraps. Everyone saw them as very close best friends, almost like brothers. They knew people would be uneasy with two men in a relationship but a throuple with a girl will scare people off. People will think it's unethical especially since they are both from House Gryffindor and you’re from House Slytherin as well you are Lucius Malfoy’s younger sister. The saying goes that anyone from House Slytherin is evil and conniving but you weren’t. You had made a difference in their life. It’s been a year and a half since they met you officially. What a year and half it has been, filled with laughter, with love, and lots of experimenting. They were finally in their last year in Hogwarts and they couldn’t be more happy. They spoke about their plans after school. Remus’ family cottage is perfect for three people.

Currently Remus is in bed with you, he’s laying on his back with your head on his chest. He rubs your back with one hand while the other hand is being trapped with your own. It was something you did since the first time you laid with him. You touched his hands, his slender and long fingers, you played with them, kissed them and even sucked on them. You would trace the light scars on his knuckles sometimes.

“I dream about your hands, Rem.” He hears you and can’t help but smile before kissing the top of your head.

“Sometimes I think you’re with me just for my hands.” He says and his smile grows wider when you do a dramatic gasp like one of those cheesy muggle soap operas.

You climb on top of him, sitting on his lap. His hands are pushing the uniform skirt up to your hips, his hands rub up and down on your bare thighs. You begin to loosen the red tie around his neck as you move your hips. Remus lets out a whine when you push against his crotch.

“That’s not the only thing.” You tell him as you lean down close to his face.

“I dream about your eyes, they are so pretty. I dream about your nose.” You said kissing the side of his nose.

“This pretty fucking face.” You whispered, making him blush as you kissed the scars on his face.

“Y-” “Hush I’m not done.” You cut him off, Remus has always been insecure about his face. It took him lots of convincing to accept that you found him attractive even with his scars especially when you found out about his condition. Remus didn't believe someone like you could find him hot. Some days he still had doubts about Sirius finding him attractive. There was always a solution when Remus grew insecure, it would end up, him tied up on the bed with Sirius laying one side while you laid on the other. Both of you would kiss every inch of his body until Remus grows red in the face and accept the fact that both of you find him attractive.

Remus noticed you first because of your hair, people know that white platinum hair from anywhere. It was the signature look of the Malfoy family. Your hair was long and looked so silky, he wanted to touch it at first glance. He even had caught Sirius looking at it and when you passed them, they both stared at you. Lucius had become like a bodyguard when you first came to Hogwarts, walking with you and dropping you off to your classes. Since he was always with you everywhere it was hard for anyone aka guys to talk to you because of your brother. You were oblivious to the guys in the school, you didn't pay attention to them as you sat next to Lucius during meals or in the library. It didn’t help as the years passed and you became top of your classes as well. You were very popular. You were always surrounded by your group of Slytherin friends.

Students in Hogwarts have started calling you Queen Bee because of the status of your family and because of how well you did in school but with a nickname like that, people thought the worst of you. Sirius and Remus were nervous to speak with you because of it. That was until they saw you defending a first year Gryffindor from a Slytherin, an older boy from your house. You weren't afraid to speak your mind especially to bullies and when it came down to defend the younger students. Let’s just say, you weren't afraid to fight a bitch.

When Lucius entered his last year, he stepped down from being your bodyguard when he noticed you settled down well. You knew where your classes were and had made friends and when he graduated Sirius and Remus knew it was their time to strike when they saw you for the first time alone in the library. Sirius had kissed Remus on the lips behind the bookshelves and mumbled good luck to him. Nervously, Remus ran his fingers through his hair, trying to look presentable for you and walked towards you. They have spoken about how to approach you, they noticed that you had a love for books, so Sirius told Remus to step in. Sirius waits for Remus to give him a signal for him to join. Sirius can’t help but feel giddy inside when he sees you smiling at Remus.

“This face is the face I’m happy to sit on.” Remus laughs as you kiss his cheeks then a peck on his lips.

“And these lips.” You pulled his bottom lip with your thumb.

Remus stares up at you with hooded eyes and his heart is bursting with all the love you are giving him. “If there was a spell that allowed me to kiss these lips all the time. I would do anything. Give anything up.”

“Fuck.” Remus breathes out before cupping your face with his hands pulling you in for a kiss. Remus’ kisses are desperate and passionate. He had a way that left you breathless after every kiss. He told you he did it because what if it's the last time he ever got to kiss you. Remus was such a hopeless romantic.

“Should we wait for our Sirius?” You whispered to him. You gasped when Remus tugged you down on his lap, feeling his hard cock.

“A good boyfriend and girlfriend would say yes but I can't help it. You make me go crazy.”

“You make me go crazy too.” You tell him as you stare down at the Gryffindor boy.

“Both of you do. Sometimes I feel like magic was done to me. A spell was cast on me because every time I see Sirius and you. I’m this-.” You grabbed a hand from your thigh and bought it towards your cunt. Remus feels a growl growing in his chest when his fingers touch your crotch, the fabric of your panties is moist and he can feel your heat.

“Wet.” You said as you feel Remus rub your clit through the fabric. Remus moans your name as he stares up at you, his hand between your legs touching that cunt he loves so much.

“Should we..” You mumble as you look over at the door of the bedroom. Sirius still hasn't arrived yet and your cunt is throbbing and drooling for attention. Both of you have told him what time to arrive.

“Our Sirius won’t mind.” Remus said, pulling his hand out and sticking his long digit in his mouth, moaning as he sucked the tip of his index finger clean. Releasing his finger with a pop, you give him a smile as you lean down close to his face to kiss him. He holds your body close to him as he opens his mouth. You can’t help but moan his name when you pull away.

“Please fuck me. Please.” Remus can't help but whine at your moans.

How can he say no to you? Such a pretty thing with her cunt dripping wet for him. Having sex with Remus was different from Sirius. While Sirius was spontaneous, rough and hard. Remus was slow and passionate. You loved it both.

He gets impatient and turns you around. He’s between your legs now, your legs are spread and he’s pulling his tie along with his shirt, throwing them out over his shoulder with his sweater. You try your best to be quick but Remus’ hands are already working on the buttons of your sweater. You can’t help but laugh at how focused he is getting you naked. Few seconds later, your sweater is off, your green tie is gone, and your white button down shirt is off. Helping him remove your bra, he leans down to kiss your chest. He kisses you once more as his hands unbutton your skirt. He whines when he sees the black underwear.

“Remus.” You said his name softly. He looks at your face for a moment before leaning down. He presses gentle kisses on the side of your face.

Remus takes his time, his sweet time with you. You're mewling at him, clawing on his back when he finally has his fill kissing your neck. He licks your nipples, flicking the hard nub before biting it gently, making you moan. His hands make their way to your hips, peeling your underwear off, you help, pulling your knees to your chest. He throws them to the floor not caring where it landed. Wrapping your legs around his waist, Remus leans down to kiss you. Remus knows spending time with you was limited. Both being from different houses, there wasn’t much free time and especially since its the last year. Sirius and Remus didn’t get to see you often. They were touched whenever you made time to see them. Bailing on your plans with your friends just so you can spend time with them. Spending break at school just so the three of you can spend time together was cherished. They were even more touched when you came to them the night before every full moon to give Remus Wolfsbane and told them it took you all day to brew it.

“Remus.” You whispered as you felt his cock pushed against your cunt. He looks down at you, waiting for you to speak.

“I love you.” You confessed to him, moving his sandy brown hair out of his face. You cup his cheek, feeling his scars under your touch.

“Really?” He whispered looking at you, waiting for you to take it back. You nod at him as his eyes grow wide and he gives you a smile.

“I love you.” He says it back. Remus leans down to kiss you, pouring everything he had into you, his tongue slips into your mouth and you welcome him.

“I need you now.” You begged against his lips as your hand touched him. He groans when you start to jerk him off, his long fingers start to tease your clit making you jerk him even faster.

“At least let me eat you first.” You shake your head. “I need you now!” You said pouting your lips at him as you released him. Remus huffs and leans down, your legs wrap around his waist, you whine as he presses his cock against you. He stares at you when you take a sharp breath in when he slides into you.

Remus moans your name when you clench around his girth tightly. Your hands made their way to his face, you kissed him as he nuzzled close to you. Pulling his cock back softly he hears you whine and tell him inside.

“You're just so greedy today.” He says in a playfully tone before moaning your name. He hears you giggle and thrust back in harshly making you moan.

“I can't help it, Moony.” You whisper looking up at him. “Can't help myself with you.”

There's a twinkle in his eyes for a second as he stares down at you.

Sirius is quiet when he makes it up the stairs. He was finally able to leave James and Lily after she had calmed down. Sirius had run up the stairs, skipping a few steps on the way up. He missed his girl and his man. He has been thinking about it all day, he had even been yelled at by a professor for looking at Remus as he thought about today. Remus just raised a brow at him, in a way asking him if he's alright.

No! Sirius wasn't alright, he was just caught daydreaming about his pretty boyfriend and his pretty girlfriend about all the nasty things they were going to do during lunch period. He gave a half ass apology to the professor while trying to pull the front of his sweater further down to his lap to cover his hard on. Waving his wand at the door of the dormitory bedroom, he softly opened it when he heard moaning. He grins at the sound of skin slapping and harsh moans. He feels proud of Remus when he hears you shout Remus’ name with profanity.

“Fuck! Just like that baby. Remus!” Sirius’ pierced ears are ringing now from your moans. He can hear the bed frame banging against the wall. Remus’ bed is the first, anyone can see when opening the door. Sirius was glad because of this. He's leaning against the door frame with a look, his eyes filled with lust and awed.

How he wished he could take a picture of you both.

He admires Remus’ back, his skin is fair and marked with freckles along with scars. Sirius can see the pink scratches marks down Remus’s back, no doubt in his mind that they were from you. He hears Remus moans as he pulls your leg up to his shoulder. Sirius rubs his bottom lip with his thumb as he watches you take the pounding from Remus.

Sirius begins to pull his belt off as he walks in to shut the door softly not wanting to disturb. He doesn't want to disturbed since he knows you're close. Remus had his hand around your neck as you rubbed your clit quickly. Remus isn't far behind, he's looking at you like you have hung the sun and moon just for him. Remus throws his head back when he feels you cumming. Remus whimpers your name, he gets closer, he's going to blow. Remus feels the bed dipped behind him. He feels a pair of lips against his shoulder, he doesn't fret. Is it even possible to know who the person is just by their lips? Remus knows, it's Sirius.

“Cum baby.” Sirius whispers to him before biting on his shoulder as his hands roam around Remus’ body. You look up to see Sirius behind Remus, lifting your legs up, pulling it close to your chest as you whine at Remus’ slow and deep thrusts. You stared at them both as Remus was getting closer, Sirius gives you a wink when he brushes Remus’ ass with his hand and cups his balls from behind, Remus moans shamelessly as Sirius gently squeezes it giving him that push he needed to cum.

Sirius holds his boyfriend when he cums. “Such a good boy, is that right, love?” Sirius asks you, looking over at you with a smile.

You nod before looking at Remus. “Yes, our Remus is a good boy!” You used all the energy you had left to shout, making them laugh. Remus looks over at Sirius, he pecks his lips before Sirius hugs him from behind.

“Fuckkk!” Sirius and Remus said simultaneously as they looked down when he slid his cock out of you. Your pussy lips are parted, they can see Remus’ thick cum dripping out of you after you move a bit. Remus bites his bottom lip as he uses the tip of his cock to scoop up some of the cum and rub it over your clit. Remus curses under his breath at the lovely sight. You're extra sensitive and Sirius can't help himself, he reaches his hand out, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“Sirius.” You moan trying to shut your legs but Remus stops you, placing a hand on your knee to keep them wide open for Sirius.

Sirius tells himself to relax, not wanting to push his boyfriend out of his way to taste his girlfriend’s cunt. You say his name again and Remus glances over at him when Sirius plays with the soft curls on your mound.

“He’s thirsty.” Remus says to you with a grin.

“So parched.” Sirius adds, bringing his index finger up and down your slit, he slides it in making you cry out when you feel one of his cold silver rings inside of your pussy.

“Not tired?” Sirius asks you. You shake your head, you wanted him too. Sirius feels Remus lean against him, his gray eyes looking down at Remus’ half hardened cock. No one was tired yet, Sirius pulled away from you and brought his finger to Remus’ lips. Remus doesn't need to be told, he sucks Sirius’ finger, gently biting the tip of his finger with his teeth.

“Give me a taste.” Sirius tells him. There wasn't anything hotter than watching them kiss. You have seen them kiss, fuck, snuggle. Everything they did was perfect in your eyes. Your pussy clenched around the nothingness when you saw Sirius slip his tongue in Remus’ mouth. Remus had cupped Sirius by the cheek pulling him further into the kiss while your fingers were in you, you bit your lip from crying out when you fingered yourself you didn't want them to stop not when Remus had moaned in Sirius mouth. Remus had his fingers in Sirius’ dark curls.

Sirius pulls away to breathe as Remus’ lips attack his neck. Sirius looks down at you with bruised lips. Sirius moans your name when he sees you. His hand rubs your leg as he rolls his eyes when Remus licks his neck.

“Both of you smell so good.” Remus says, Sirius smiles up at him kissing the tip of his nose before pulling him down to lay with you.

“Hello.” Sirius whispered to you when he laid next to you. Remus laid on the other side, his lips were like magnets on your skin. He starts to kiss your bare arm while Sirius kisses you.

Sirius kisses you, pulling you closer to him. He notices the marking on your shoulders.

“Moony, what have you done to our girl?” Sirius asks as you nibble on his bottom lip.

“Had us waiting for you, Si. Remus and I had to occupy ourselves.” Remus looks over your shoulder at Sirius.

“Let’s show our Sirius how we occupy ourselves.” Remus said, making you grin as you roll on top of Sirius, pushing him down under you.

Remus takes a deep breath as he looks over at Sirius and you. You're naked on him, pulling his tie and sweater off. Sirius keeps getting pushed down so you can remove his shirt.

“Sirius! Let me tak-” Your words turned into fits of giggles when Sirius wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you down as he went between your legs. He’s quick to get off the bed to get himself naked. He rushes and throws the clothes over his shoulders, not caring where it went. Two pairs of eyes stare at Sirius’ body, he's lean and fit thanks from the years of playing Quidditch. His arms were toned, they flexed when he threw his trousers over.

The cocky and confident Sirius Black blushes under Remus and your gaze, staring at him like he was the last cookie in the bakery. His nipples grew hard when he saw Remus touching himself, Sirius looked over at you and you grin when you lean over Remus’ lap.

Remus moans your name softly, moving your hair to the side when you lick the tip of his cock. You moan loudly, still staring at Sirius as you kiss Remus’ shaft.

“Naughty girl.” Sirius said, crawling to Remus’ lap on the other side of the bed. “Greedy aren't you?” Sirius whispers to you, giving you a kiss on the lips before licking the other side of Remus’ shaft.

“Fuckk.” Remus cries as he watches Sirius and you licking his cock up.

“Yes, I am.” You answered Sirius as you reached for his cock. Sirius moans with Remus’s cock in his mouth when you jerk him off. Remus grabs a hold of Sirius’ dark curls, holding him in place as he starts to thrust upwards in his warm mouth.

“Pads! Please.” Remus begs, pleads for him to make him cum. You can hear Remus is close, you push yourself up and watch Sirius gag on Remus’ length. You crawl up to Remus, sitting next to him, rubbing his chest as you watch the show. Sirius’ cheeks are sunken in, his hands holding on to Remus’ thighs.

Leaning over to kiss Remus, you held his face.

“Cum down his throat.” You repeat it softly to him, edging him while kissing his neck. Nibbling on it as Remus blows his load down Sirius’s throat.

He chokes when he pulls away from Remus' cock, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sees a flash of white, it’s your hair. Looking up, he sees you staring at him with Remus. Sirius crawls to you both. You welcome that cummy kiss with pleasure. He leaves you out of breath and leans at Remus for a kiss. Remus, like you, enjoys the kiss not caring he was tasting his own cum. The three of you have shared each other, all three have come to love it. You look up at him, hands running up and down his stomach, you licked your lips at him. His chin and small beard he was trying to grow was damp. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were wide and the corners of his mouth turned up.

“Come over here, mon coeur.” Sirius says turning you over on your hands and knees.

Remus took a deep breath as he watches Sirius fucking you. You look so fucking pretty on your hands and knee. Sirius is pulling your hair as you hold the sheets under you. Sirius praises you as he holds your hip with one hand and the other in your hair pulling your head back. Remus shakes his head trying not to get hard again, it's difficult especially when you're loving being treated like that. You beg Sirius to fuck you harder, calling him Padfoot makes him go faster and you're holding on for dear life on Remus’ pillow. Your breasts bouncing every time he thrust from behind frantically.

Remus can see your eyes roll into the back of your head when Sirius lets your hair go and grabs your hips with both hands, you can't hold yourself up. Chest to the mattress and ass in the air, you took everything he gave you. Your movement changed the angles he was thrusting, it made Sirius moan loudly. The tip of his fat cock hits that sweet spot in you every time. You call Sirius name when you cum on his cock, he feels it. He keeps thrusting into your dripping pussy, your slick is dripping down the sheets on Remus’ bed. Sirius holds you tight as he comes, he looks over at Remus who was enjoying the show. His hands under his head, he had a leg over the other as he watched.

“That was hot, Padfoot and Cariad.” Remus looks down at you as you shut your eyes enjoying the pleasure you had just endured. Sirius is gentle with you when he pulls out, all he wants to do is slip inside of your warm cunt. He sees, you are trying to catch your breath. He rubs your bare back, gently scratches it, making goosebumps raise up on your skin. Sirius drops down next to you, his hand never leaving your body. He feels Remus move closer to you too. Sirius lays on his back, with one hand he moves the sweaty strands of his hair out of his face as he stares up at the ceiling. He listens to Remus talk to you in whispers. After a minute, Remus gets up to the bathroom. Sirius looks over at you to see you laying down on your back as well.

Sirius does not hesitate to bring a hand on your cheek, cupping it warmly, He rubs your cheek with his thumb.

“Moony, getting you water?” Sirius asks you. Nodding to him, he leans over to grab Remus' wand from the night stand. Without a word, the blanket on his bed across the room flew over. Remus walks back to the bed with a glass of water in his hand. The blanket passes him and covers you completely.

“Thank you, Si.” You said softly to him. Sirius just nods and watches you sit up grabbing the water from Remus.

“Thank you.” Remus nods at you as you give him back a half empty cup. Sirius shakes his head at Remus who offers him some.

“I missed this.” You said after a while Remus laid down next to you.

“The fucking?” Sirius asks and you roll your eyes at him playfully.

“No, the fucking is nice but I meant laying together in one bed.” You told them feeling Remus’ hand on your leg.

“Haven't done it in a while.” Remus comments agreeing with you. Everyone has been busy, since it's their last year.

“After this year, we will do this more. Spending time together, sleeping in the same bed. Right?” Sirius asks you since he knows what Remus will say. They had spoken about this with you. They wanted you to stay with them in Remus’ family cottage after school. You looked over at Sirius and nodded at him.

“Yes, after school. Just us.” You told him then looked up at the ceiling. Leaving your family wouldn't be difficult. You didn’t accept their pure-blood ways. You didn't give a damn about it, you started to fight with them about the subject especially since one of the men you love is a half-blood. You would miss Lucius that was for sure even if your brother was a bit supercilious. He had saved you under the hands of your condescending parents. The smacks that were about to be given to you, he would take them instead when he was around. Lucius would understand why you left. He has too, once he sees his little sister happy, truly happy. He will understand. You long to be with Remus and Sirius in that cottage. You smile up at the ceiling when you feel Sirius and Remus lean their head against your shoulders.

Enjoying their embrace and their warmth, reality hits back. Reality of going back to your dorm, going back to class, going back to pretending that you didn't know them. It was your doing, Remus and Sirius wanted everyone to know but you and Sirius knew that being from a pure-blood wizarding family that supports who shall not be named have many advantages of getting rid of people, it took time for Remus to process it.

“If something bad were to happen to you because of me?” You told Remus who was in tears that you had rejected the idea of telling people about the three of you.

“I would kill myself. I’ll do it after killing them.” You admitted to him and Remus and Sirius saw that fiery look in your eyes. You weren't bluffing.

“Oh baby, if they hurt you or even Sirius.” You whispered to Remus. “I’ll burn that fucking manor to the ground.”

Remus understood at the end. He did, he understood it was for his safety and after what Sirius told him about children suffering under their parent’s hands who were pure-bloods. Remus played the part and once in a while he would find himself staring at you as you passed him by the corridor. Usually Peter and Frank will drag him out of his trance. They will tease him wanting to know who had caught the eyes of Remus Lupin. Remus bites his tongue to not say your name.

“Why were you so late, Si?” You asked Sirius after a few moments of silence. Sirius had turned to his side, with a hand under his head, holding it up. He used the other hand to draw random shapes on the bare skin of your hip.

“James was trying to comfort Lily. She’s been getting bullied by a couple of Ravenclaws lately. The bullying has gotten worse since she became head girl. They were calling her a mudblood. She’s still not used to that name.” You roll your eyes at that term, such a ugly word.

You listened as Sirius continued to explain how James asked him to stay with him for a little while until they tried to calm Lily down from her sobbing. You didn’t say anything as you felt Remus grabbed your arm draping it over his body. He kissed your hand as Sirius kept talking. Sirius' fingers started to play with the ends of your hairs, twirling the white platinum hair around his finger. You noticed the worried look on Remus and Sirius’ face. You didn't like seeing your boyfriends like this but those were one of the many things you loved about them. They loved their friends so much.

“What are their names?” You asked Sirius. He hums while he thinks. “James only said the main one was Cassie. That's the leader.”

“I hope Lily feels better.” You said then looked over at the small clock Remus had in the night stand by the bed.

“Fuck! My last class will start soon.” You exclaimed as you pushed the blanket off your body and jumped out of the bed.

“I didn’t get to spend time with you though!” Sirius pouts with a groan as Remus pushes himself up to sit. Remus leans down to grab his boxers while you grab your bra.

“Next time, let's use magic to take off our clothes away and have it neatly folded in one place.” You told them as you found your underwear near a case with James Potter's name written on it.

“That's no fun.” Sirius said as he and Remus stared at your bare ass while you bent down to pick up your socks.

You just shake your head as you sit on the edge of the bed. You hear Remus call your name, looking over he has your sweater and skirt in one hand.

“Oh, thank you.” You tell him as he makes you stand between his legs and buttons your skirt for you. Sirius grabbed your white button up shirt near him off the floor when he saw you walking to the other side of the room for your tie.

“Thanks.” You mumbled kissing Sirius’ on the cheek. “You can always skip it. More time we can spend together.” Sirius said as he watched you get dressed.

“Soon you will. Don’t worry.” You fixed your skirt as you walked over towards the pouting man and kissed him on the lips. Sirius moaned in your mouth as you deepened the kiss. You gave him one last kiss to get him through the day. Pulling away, Sirius tries to go back for another kiss but you shake your head fixing the collar of your shirt.

“I love you.” You tell Sirius and his eyes grow large for a second and a coy smile appears on his handsome face.

“You can't leave this room now. Say it again.” Sirius said, making you laugh but you repeat it. You say you love him and he kisses you before saying back to you.

“It’s getting late. If I get another tardiness, my parents will have my ass.” You sighed walking away from Sirius to the bed where you saw your shoes. Remus grabs your bag from the floor.

“You don’t love me anymore, mon coeur.” Sirius dramatically said as he plopped himself back on the bed like a starfish. Remus walks with you to the door.

“See you later.” He says as he fixes your tie before leaning down to give you a goodbye kiss. You can see Remus was trying to say something. You tilt your chin upwards looking at him for a second.

“I love you.” Remus says softly as he leans against the door frame. You smile at him, he is just the cutest.

“I love you too.” You said going up to your tiptoes to kiss him. Remus watches you hurry down the stairs with a smile on his face.

“She said it.” Remus shuts the door when he hears Sirius. Looking back, he sees Sirius smiling wide as he stares up at the ceiling.

“She did.” Remus said feeling happy inside. Sirius props himself up on his elbows and looks at Remus.

“I love you, Moony.” Sirius says, as Remus walk over towards him. Sirius lays back down on the bed with Remus over him. Remus cages Sirius' head with his arms, Sirius welcomes his weight over him. Wrapping his arms around his waist, Remus leans down and stops just a few centimeters away from Sirius’ lips.

“I love you too, Padfoot.”

“Kiss me.” Sirius whispers to Remus.

It was morning and they were in the great hall for breakfast. James was next to Lily who was still quiet after yesterday's events. Remus and Sirius shared a concerned look before trying to get her to talk, asking her about a muggle book she was reading a week ago. While Peter sat near Sirius, he munched on his bacon and eggs. The table didn’t notice three girls walking towards them.

“Look what we have here girls, the little mudblood.” Lily looked down at her plate when the voice came behind her.

“Why don’t you fuck off, Cassie.” James said, defending his girlfriend. He stared daggers at the Ravenclaw girl as he stood up from his seat. The brunette rolled her eyes at James and ignored him before leaning down close to Lily while her two other friends stayed behind.

“Can't fight your own battle. You fucking filthy mud-.” Cassie never got to finish her sentence, Lily flinched when all of sudden the girl over her shoulder was pushed down on the Gryffindor’s table. Her head banged on the table, making everyone jump.

“Oh shit.” Peter yelled as Sirius and Remus looked at you with wide eyes as you pushed the Cassie's head down on the table. Making her yelp in pain, you grabbed one of her arms twisting behind her back as you continued to push her head against the table.

“You like calling people by that name?! Say it again I dare you.” You hissed, grabbing a fist full of hair and banging her head again on the table making the plates and cups jump up.

"Say it again!" You jeer at Cassie. Remus looks over when he remembers Cassie wasn't alone, about to get up from his seat in case, Cassie's friends fight you but he sat back down when he saw a bunch of Slytherin’s girls surrounding them, trapping the two girls. He had seen a few of them before hanging out with you; he knew they were your friends. Sirius noticed a group of students from House Slytherin near the teacher's table speaking to them. One had even looked over their shoulder before quickly drawing the teacher’s attention back to them and it hits Sirius like a ton of bricks, this whole thing was planned. If anyone was staring at him, they could see his pupils tuning into hearts when he looked back at you.

“Wait! Wai-” Lily stood up from her seat when Cassie cried out. James was quick to pull Lily close to him, taking a step back to see how this would unfold.

Hushing Cassie, you freed her arm and pressed the tip of your wand against her cheek as you continued to hold her head down. There was a group forming around the table as they watched you.

“Bother her again and I’ll make your life a living hell. I swear it.” You sneered at her as you banged her head again before freeing her when she yelled okay. You took a step back when Cassie slumped down to the floor. You rolled your eyes at the sight of her on the ground then looked up to see the redhead who was still being held by James.

Lily is filled with shocked and is fucking nervous. She knows who you are, she speaks to you with a shaky tone. “Thank you.”

You can feel your boyfriends’ eyes staring at you as you tilted your head at Lily getting a good look at the girl after she thanked you. She looked like a sweet girl and you can see why your boyfriends care about her. You wanted to laugh as she looked at you like you were her knight and shining armor but didn’t. Casting one last dirty look at Cassie below you looked at Lily.

“Let me know if anyone else bothers you.” You tell her then look down at Lily’s plate on the table. Remus swears he sees you peeking at him through your lashes as you grabbed a piece of bacon from her plate. Without a single word you turn around, taking a bite of the bacon. The other students standing around didn't have to be told to move, the moment they saw you walking, they parted like the red sea for you to pass. Remus and Sirius watched you walk out of the great hall with your friends following behind you.

“Fuck! Lily, how did you manage to get protection from a Slytherin?” James asked as he watched Cassie being helped up from her friends.

“Not just any Slytherin. Merlin! You got help from the Queen Bee.” Alice commented before turning back to her plate.

“I don’t know how. I had never spoken to her. I’m surprised she would even help me, a muggle-born like me.” Lily said as she sat back down to finish the rest of her breakfast.

“You think she knows who we are?” Peter asked around the table. James shrugs his shoulders at his friend but couldn’t help but smile when Lily started talking again.

Remus and Sirius shared a look once more before they went back to their breakfast not answering Peter. They didn’t ask for you to do anything for their dear friend, Lily. Their hearts did a flip in their chest of your selfless act. Remus is counting the days for this year to be over so all three of you can be together. Sirius is asking Alice for some parchment paper to write you a note. Sirius and Remus had to see you now, he is already making up excuses to tell Professor McGonagall on why they won't be going to class.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #sirius black #sirius orion black #remus x sirius #remus x sirius x reader #remus x reader x sirius #throuple #remus lupin smut #sirius black smut #lily evans #james potter #harry potter fanfiction

398 notes · View notes

cultofdixon · 5 months

Text

Huddling for warmth

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • A blizzard occurred during the harsh winter after the farm and before the prison. You and Daryl got trapped in it and things didn’t go perfectly…• ANGST/SFW/NSFW - Nudity • TW: Hyperthermia / Minor Injury / Anxiety / Scars / Illness

Requested by: Anon

When the fire happened, everything changed. It came naturally that Rick became the leader of this group but everything was icy.

Now they were starting all over in finding a place to call home…or at least a temporary shelter for the upcoming winter

“Here” Y/N shrugged off her jacket giving it to Carl for an extra layer of warmth as the weather was getting colder for winter.

“She’s going to freeze to death if she keeps giving her coats to Carl and Lori” Glenn makes the comment to Maggie after she finishes getting a fire going in a house they were holding up in for the night. Little did he know the archer was listening to such.

About an hour passed and Rick returns with a deer that Daryl obviously got. But they also went through a few homes and Daryl approached Y/N who was leaning on Carol near the fire, dropping a jacket over her shoulders and didn’t stay for her to get a word in.

But he saw the smile on her face and that caused an old familiar feeling to burn in his chest.

“The winter will get worse and we should scavenge a few places before holding up for a good month” Hershel tells Rick while looking out at the snow that started to fall.

“I’ll get Glenn, Maggie, and Carol to come check a few houses with me. You and Lori can keep an eye on the rest” Rick stated adjusting his jacket and giving Daryl a look. “Think you can hunt some more game before the weather gets thicker?”

“I’ll try but the second the tracks ain’t clear, I’m coming—-“

“You ain’t going alone. Take Y/N. She has huntin’ experience. She’s hunted with you before” True. Before Rick returned from presumed dead, Daryl went hunting with his brother and the previous hunter before the Dixons came…also known as Y/N. But she didn’t join him on the trip before he heard his brother was left on a roof.

Y/N was ahead of Daryl following tracks they’ve caught on at the edge of the tree line by the neighborhood they’re held up in. He half expected her to be a chatterbox like how she was before the barn fire. But something always had to be off.

Before he could say anything to her, she readied her hunting bow and landed the shot on the unlucky rabbit.

Opportunity “Yea ever heard of a lucky rabbit’s foot?”

“Yeah, but doesn’t it usually have like…an amethyst with it?”

“Thought it was an amulet” Daryl questioned only to get a short lived laugh out of Y/N causing a hint of a smirk on his face.

She rises to her feet with the rabbit in hand brushing the hair out of her face to look at the archer. “You want the foot?”

“Sayin’ I need some good luck?”

“Dunno. You’re the one that said it” Y/N kept a smile on her face that soon faded when the cold breeze was a bit more intense than she expected. “Hershel said winters will be bad. Just. Didn’t expect that”

What was just a breeze seemed to pick up the more they trekked along in the forest…

“Have the winters always gone from mild to extreme?”

“You aren’t originally from Georgia?” Daryl brushed his hair back when the wind blew harder than before.

“That a deal breaker?” Y/N jokes only to suddenly trip and fall into the snow that’s collected since the morning. “Jeez. Maybe I need that lucky rabbit’s foot”

The crimson in the white became clear to Daryl as he knelt down to make sure she didn’t hurt herself to a certain degree. Thankfully just a scratch from the tree root they couldn’t see in the snow, which started to concern Daryl with how the weather started to pick up the more they were out there.

“We should head back. Or try to find our way back”

“Before it gets worse?” She added while cleaning up the blood with her bandana as it’s going to have to do until they can get a better look at it. “It’s already there”

“Our foot prints got swept” Daryl frowns knowing that would likely happen. He rose to his feet helping Y/N up as he tried to take a moment to listen to the surrounding but even the wind was picking up as much as the snow fall.

It got to blizzard level pretty quick.

“This is getting bad” Y/N had to shout for Daryl to register anything, but as they continued on through the blind scenery…the sound of something moving through the snow caught both their attention until the archer turned around.

No Y/N.

Daryl’s panic started to set in because on top of not seeing his surroundings. He had zero clue on where Y/N could’ve fallen or been dragged to.

The hiss of the wind continued to throw the archer off when he followed the trail before it disappeared right away. He quickly realized when he slipped falling on his ass that she had fallen…but fallen into the river they passed before the blizzard became more prominent.

“We have to be careful, Y/N” Daryl states gesturing to the river they were currently passing when the snow started to pick up in inches.

Y/N laughs at the man. “Okay captain obvious. We aren’t going to be able to see it later if this blizzard picks up”

“Hopefully not. We’ll be fine”

But we aren’t fucking fine! Daryl thought as he carefully made his descend toward the river and while the rushing water picked up in his ears…he couldn’t hear anyone.

“Y/N!” He screams and was about to step in the water when something grabbed at his ankle.

The new instinct was to take his knife out and plunge it into the water skull, but when he knelt down it came clear.

“Holy fuck. Thought I’d have to go swimming”

“I-I-It’s a b-b-bit c-cold” Y/N coughed out a bit letting go of his person to lay in the snow like before. The moment she felt into the water, she was wide awake and knew she had to get out. But the second her soaked body met the cold harsh weather, it brought her to this semi frozen weak state. Crazy how quick the body reacts.

“Can yea move?” Daryl shouts only to ensure that she can hear him but with no response only shaking breathing he could barely hear, he brought his arms under her armpits starting to drag her to the main path out of the ditch by the riverbank. “Think warm thoughts” he kept repeating even if every fiber of her being wanted to curl up and scream.

Y/N wanted to scream when the cold only got worse for her as Daryl brought one of her arms around his shoulders.

“We need to hide out somewhere”

“F-Fast” She gripped onto him trying not to succumb to the cold making her falter in her steps.

Daryl tried his best not to stumble because of how she was. His anxiety eventually got the best of him and he didn’t care if she’d protest getting him wet given her soaked person when he picked her up bridal style to get a faster pace going.

The two ended up in a small house nowhere near the neighborhood they were originally in. There was no time to question how they even got far from where the rest of the group is. Daryl had to barricade the doors to the room they were in and try to get a fire going to help warm up Y/N as she was placed on the couch in the living room shivering.

“R-Remind me, n-n-never t-t….s-shit” Y/N groans pulling at the soaked clothes on her person wanting to take them off as she hated the uncomfortable sticky feeling. But there was more going on and it started to concern her.

And the man that was currently trying to start a fire in the fireplace knowing he might have to move Y/N closer to the fire. The second it started, Daryl rose to his feet rounding the couch and pushing it closer enough for her to feel it. But even then it didn’t work in its entirety.

“Gotta strip yea”

“W-Woah. B-Bu…Buy m-m-me dinner f-first” Y/N scoffs in a playful manner listening to the man groan before he went further into the house scavenging for anything and found a blanket he had to shake out before even thinking of wrapping Y/N in it.

Daryl set the blanket on the arm rest. “Strip. I won’t—-“

“N-Need h-he—help” She coughed slightly after and Daryl instinctively pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. She was starting to get warm and not in a good way.

“Fine but I need your—-“

“F-Fuck Daryl! I-I-It’s fine!” Y/N snapped gripping the back of the couch to get her to sit up as Daryl brought himself beside her helping her get out of the wet clothes.

Her clothes laid in a pile beside the couch as Daryl was about to straighten them out close to the fire to try and dry, Y/N pulled the blanket over her shoulders more but manage to trap Daryl by bringing herself into his lap. She couldn’t speak given once the clothes were off she was even colder. The blanket wasn’t going to instantly help and the archer had been inside for some time that the snow melted off of his person so that she could do what she was currently doing.

The archer froze when she climbed into his lap curling up against him taking in his warmth and tugging the blanket to cover every exposed bit on her person. He didn’t look at her, for a sense of privacy. Not that she cared. There was something else but now wasn’t the time. Daryl carefully wrapped his arms around her bringing her close and eventually shifting his body to lay down with her trapped between him and the couch.

“…please pull through” Daryl whispers hoping she would respond even if it’s intentions were for her not to hear. But given she hasn’t said anything in a minute, got him worrying again. “Y/N?” He shifted slightly going to check her pulse but just the smallest movement jostled her eyes to open with a glare before closing once more and hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

Y/N went in and out most of the night but her shivering stopped after a couple hours. She clung onto Daryl with a bruising grip taking in all the warmth he gave…he didn’t dare letting go for whatever reason afraid she freeze all over again.

But after being in that state for two days and her clothes dried eventually with the help of the fire…Daryl let go to help her redress keeping his focus on her actions as she fumbled trying to work the buttons of her flannel that he eventually helped her.

The archer wore his crossbow on his chest, the rabbits on his belt, and carried Y/N on his back still wrapped in the blanket on their way back to where the others were.

About halfway there, Rick and Glenn met them as they had come to a decision recently to go out and search for them once the blizzard passed…

“Is she okay?”

“She’s sick” You don’t survive freezing temperatures without a cold or flu to follow.

“Is she bit?” Glenn gestures to her ankle wrapped in bandages Daryl had.

“No, she fell. Fell once before falling into the river” Daryl states walking passed to make it to the house as the two who joined them kept an eye on their surroundings.

“You’re lucky we found some Tylenol on the run we went on when y’all went hunting” Rick states. “Should help with the fever”

“Hershel is gonna want to isolate her when we get back. Just in case—-“

“Don’t yea dare finish that, kid” Daryl snapped while pushing the door open with his foot as Rick took care of keeping it open for him to come through.

Out of instinct, Hershel rose to his feet gesturing to the other room to keep Y/N in even if it was the kitchen and Maggie laid a blanket on the floor before Daryl laid her down.

“Wish I had a thermometer to get an actual reading, but she definitely feels warm. I’m guessing you held up somewhere to try and warm her up to avoid hyperthermia” Hershel gave Daryl a look listening to him hum in response. “Well yea did good, son. Kept her from getting worse”

When she woke, Hershel got her to take some of the medicine they collected along with some water before leaving her to sleep once more. Daryl waited til the old man left the room before pushing the table in the doorway in case of emergencies. He sets his crossbow down against the wall kneeling beside her adjusting the blanket to cover her more watching her roll over to face him.

“Hey…”

“You can speak clearly now” Daryl jokes about the shivering stuttering mess she was before and that got a small laugh from her.

“Thanks for keeping me alive…” Y/N whispered shifting a bit to get comfortable on the floor as Daryl gently brushes away the hair in her face.

“Had to…I wanted to…I needed to” He whispered to her as he brought himself to sit on the floor keeping close to her watching her extend her hand from under the blanket to hold his.

Daryl stayed with her the entire time…the entire time.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

516 notes · View notes

toournextadventure · 2 months

Text

our little secret pt.iv

Summary: Your sins catch up with you.

Word Count: 11.9k Warnings: swearing, heavy religion and religious trauma (Southern Christianity), heavy religious homophobia, slurs, misogyny, guns, threats of violence, talk of death Pairing: Lorraine Day x Fem!Reader (our little secret i) (our little secret ii) (our little secret iii) (our little secret iv) A/N: this has super heavy religious themes, if you're not good with that please don't read, do what's best for y'all 🫶

Lorraine was coming home.

Well, they were all coming home, but you were only truly excited to see Lorraine. It had been nearly three months since you had seen her last. There was little to no contact because they were moving around a lot, but you would get her letters. Simple little things to tell you where they were, what they were doing, how much bigger they were getting in the industry.

Each letter felt more precious than the last. She never said anything explicit - though you couldn’t say the same for the rare letter from Max or Bobby-Lynn - but the message never changed. She missed you. Filming wasn’t the same when she knew she couldn’t go to you immediately after. Sometimes, if you were lucky, she would even complain about RJ.

The letters stayed hidden in a lockbox in Beau’s truck. You had wanted to keep them with you so they were easier to get a hold of, but both he and Huck had reminded you of the dangers of such a thing. What if someone found them? It would put both you and Lorraine in danger.

It wasn’t something that should have been a surprise to you, yet it partially was. You had gotten comfortable with the small group you surrounded yourself with. All but one or two knew of your little secret, and every single one of them was in support. Or at the very least, they were accepting. When you were with them, you almost forgot you weren’t supposed to be with Lorraine; you were supposed to be in your good, Christian, church-ordained relationship with Beau.

Yet, it was easy enough to keep your secret when Lorraine was away so often. You were so very proud of her and all she was achieving. Each time you saw her, you made sure to remind her of such. A kiss for each time you had felt proud of her while she was away, just to ensure she felt proud of herself. It didn’t matter what she did, all that mattered was she was working hard and moving through life successfully.

Beau and Huck had just gotten back from their own trip as well. They were scheduled to get back a few days after Lorraine, but out of some strange sense of responsibility, they had come back early. You wouldn’t complain. After all, you may not have been romantically interested in either of them, but you still loved them. They were family. They were your family. When they were around, life felt less chaotic. You could breathe and relax and feel however you wanted to feel because you knew, no matter what, that they loved you.

Things felt… good. As good as they had in a long while. You often spent your evenings with Roy. After talking with Jackson a few times, you had some idea on how to talk with your brother. He had been hesitant at first, seemingly not even able to comprehend his own thoughts. But slowly, day by day, you managed to get him to talk.

In the dead of night when you should have been asleep in your room, you sat across from Roy in the barn and listened to his rambling stories. I was an electrician, he had said, a pole jockey. You didn’t ask what that meant. Average life of a pole jockey is 7 seconds. For the first time since coming home, he showed you his overabundance of scars.

It was no wonder he felt trapped within his own mind.

“How’s it goin’, Roy?” Beau asked as he walked into the barn with Huck right on his heels. “Brought you some barbecue.”

Roy grumbled an acknowledgement before gingerly taking the Tupperware box from Beau’s outstretched hand. He always seemed to go fairly nonverbal when someone else was around. A small part of you felt proud that he trusted you enough to talk with you. It didn’t outweigh the feeling of knowing he would probably never get better.

“You goin’ to church with us on Sunday?” Huck asked gently.

He took a different approach to interacting with Roy than Beau did. While Beau very much kept his “big boy britches” on (as he had so much fun saying), Huck was more outwardly compassionate. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, or they thought Roy incapable, they were just raised differently. At least it was better than how you were both raised.

At least they showed they cared.

“Our sweet girl is preachin’,” Beau continued.

Roy looked at you and raised an eyebrow comically high. If you hadn’t just been talking about people dying and his nightmares, you would have teased him for it. Maybe you should have, just to invoke a sense of normalcy in it all. You opted to keep your mouth shut.

“It’s just kids’ church,” you said with a shrug. “Nothin’ important.”

“You are shapin’ the young minds of America’s future voters,” Beau said with a finger pointed in your direction. “That’s mighty important.”

You laughed and kicked out at him, managing to barely catch his heel. “You hear that from the television set?”

“Yes ma’am, I did,” he said with that cheesy smile that made all the women in town swoon. “You’re doin’ the Lord’s work.”

“You still don’t have to go,” you said to Roy.

He looked at you with a small smile before looking back down at the food in his hands. Yeah, you knew that would be the answer. So did Beau, but he still tried, bless his heart. You looked at him as he continued talking with Huck and felt something tighten in your chest.

You wished you loved him the way you were supposed to. If you could just feel those butterflies whenever he held your hand, or kissed your cheek, or wrapped his arms around you, everything would be better. You could still love Lorraine, and you could still love Huck, but the guilt wouldn’t be sticking to your very bones, weighing you down until you could feel the very fires of hell licking at your skin.

Maybe you could learn. Perhaps you could learn to feel for him the way you were supposed to. Lorraine felt for RJ - or could at least pretend convincingly - and no one was the wiser. If you could pretend, or learn, then maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. You could get away with loving Lorraine if you could convince everyone that you felt for Beau the way you were supposed to.

While he talked with Huck and Roy, you sat back and really looked at him. He was handsome, you didn’t have to fancy him romantically to see it. Just near every girl in town thought you were lucky as could be; you couldn’t entirely disagree. His laugh, his smile, his kindness, he was everything a girl could want.

And you felt nothing.

It weighed heavy on your soul as the days kept passing you by. Each day brought you closer to seeing Lorraine again, which meant you distanced yourself from Beau. You desperately hoped he understood; you loved him dearly, and there was nothing you wouldn’t do for him. But you just couldn’t love him the way you knew you should.

You sighed and put your thoughts aside when a truck pulled up to the barn. It wasn’t one you had seen before, at least not one you could remember. But it pulled up beside Beau’s truck as if they had done it a million times before. Not even Jimmy pulled up so well, and he lived there.

“You invite somebody?” You asked whoever was listening.

“You say that like we got friends,” Huck said with a chuckle and a swig from his beer bottle. He didn’t even look.

“Then somebody invited themself,” you said.

The lights of the truck were still on, seeming brighter as the sun continued to dip beneath the horizon. It would have silhouetted the still-budding cotton field if not for the blinding lights. Not many people made it a habit of coming out to the barn; they went to the house with daddy and not much else. There really wasn’t much sense in coming out this way.

Roy’s knee pressed against your thigh before you heard something scrape across the concrete floor. Hesitantly, you stopped looking at the truck and turned to look at him. His eyes were glued to the truck, and his hand was wrapped carefully around the handle of a pistol. A pistol that you hadn’t known he still had access to.

“I got it,” you said softly as you reached out to place your hand on top of his. He stiffened beneath you, but nodded once and let go of the gun.

You would need to figure out what to do about that another day.

The driver’s side door opened without a creak - something unusual in your bunch - and someone stepped out. You stood up and took a few steps toward the truck in an attempt to see who it was. With the truck’s lights still on, you couldn’t tell. You couldn’t even properly see their silhouette. When the lights turned off, you were stuck blinking erratically; the beam of light wouldn’t fade quickly enough.

“You lost?” You called out. The words carried across the now-silent driveway. “Town’s the other way.”

“I’m where I wanna be.”

Every atom of your being sparked at the voice. If you had been thinking logically, you would have remembered Roy was sitting on a box behind you. There were witnesses to your actions. But you weren’t thinking logically. You could never think logically if she was around.

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation before you practically sprinted toward the truck. Your arms knew where to go; they secured themselves around Lorraine’s shoulders as if that was where they belonged. In return, her arms wrapped around your waist, and her breath hit your neck, and her giggles reached your ears, and you were home.

She was your home.

“Got back a few nights early,” she said. Her arms squeezed tighter around your waist. “Thought I’d come surprise you.”

“It’s a good surprise,” you said softly.

You would have been content to stand there for the rest of eternity. With her head resting between your collar and jaw and her arms holding you like a lifeline, you didn’t have a single complaint. Why would you even want to leave? She was your home. She was what made your heart beat so fast you started to question if it would even hold up to the abuse.

“Look who’s back.” Beau’s voice came from behind you like the mighty voice of God himself; calling you out for the very sin of feeling love.

Lorraine pulled away to give everyone a hug, and you watched her do so. No one cared about your… affections for Lorraine; if Roy noticed, he certainly didn’t say anything. He even reached out to squeeze her hand, which was much more than he did for most.

Did he know? When Lorraine pulled up a box right beside yours and let her thigh rest only a hair’s breadth away from yours, did he see? It hadn’t ever occurred to you that Roy might know more than he let on. He was traumatised, not blind. How much did he see that you weren’t aware of?

Would he hate you? Had daddy gotten to him before you had even been born, teaching him that your very existence was a blight on the earth? Your stomach twisted into knots at the possibility. Jimmy was younger, he was more open minded, but Roy? The very thought of him condemning you to hell even after everything he had seen made your chest squeeze and tighten.

“You get yourself a new truck?” Huck asked as he held out a newly opened beer for Lorraine to take. “Looks mighty clean.”

“It’s daddy’s,” she said as she grabbed the bottle by the neck with her good hand.

“What happened to the truck I was fixin’ up?” You asked.

“He gave up on it,” she said with a shrug. “Said she was done for.”

“She was not done for,” you grumbled.

The toe of Lorraine’s shoe pushed gently against your heel; a teasing gesture she had adopted when other people were around. Just something small to let you know she acknowledged what you were saying. A habit you almost wished didn’t exist. The very existence of it meant you both were well aware of the ramifications of any sort of potentially scandalous words or activities. It was humiliating.

Your thoughts wouldn’t stop when everyone started talking and catching up. Lorraine was being particularly open. Nearly every time she came back from a trip, she stayed distant for a few days. The entire town knew you were all best friends, but you both tried to keep nothing but professional. It was fake. It was painful.

What about this break made her throw away that distance? Your chest warmed at the possibility that something had happened with RJ; perhaps everything wasn’t so awful. It wasn’t likely, but you let yourself relish in the feeling even if just for a moment. God could spare you a single moment of peace.

“We all gettin’ together Friday night?” Beau asked. “The usual?”

“Sounds good to me,” Lorraine said. She turned to look at you with a sparkle in her eye. “Think you can handle it?”

Roy’s knee pressed against your thigh at the same time Lorraine’s thigh did the same. Something about the potential judgment from your brother and the warmth from the woman you were forced to love in secret pulled at your insides. Tugging them in different directions, stretching you thin until you wanted to fade away into oblivion.

A moment of peace.

“I’m your huckleberry,” you said with a shrug.

Lorraine’s smile eased the tension in your chest. For the moment.

—---

The worn-down barn had been rearranged since the last time you had visited. The bar took over the better half of the left wall, and the makeshift stage had been reinforced at the back. Your usual table, which was originally found near the front of the barn, was now located closer to the back end of the bar; you could see directly out to the pitch black fields.

That was where your crew found themselves that Friday night; sitting at the table with more than a few empty drinks scattered around. It wasn’t like the Mexican restaurant down the road. There weren’t waitresses and people working there to clean. It was your responsibility to take your empty glasses back so they could be cleaned and reused. And on that night, it was your turn to be the waitress.

“Hey sugar,” Beau called to you when you were grabbing the empty cups to take back. “Get us another round?”

“You’re gonna have me lookin’ like an alcoholic,” you said with a pointed look.

You ignored Lorraine’s angelic giggle.

You also didn’t say no.

“What can I get for ya, Preacher?” Stevie - Stephen on Sundays - asked. “Your boys are throwin’ ‘em back.”

“So’s Rainey,” you said with a slight shake of your head. It didn’t erase your smile. “How’s about somethin’ watered down.”

“You truly are doin’ the Lord’s work,” he said with a smirk that most girls around town fell for. “A small bit of whiskey and some sweet iced tea.”

You mouthed a silent thank you as he got to work on the drinks and you turned to look back out at the scene. It was no surprise to see Beau and Lorraine already up and dancing. They couldn’t get you to dance to save your life, but you knew how much Lorraine loved it. She could have fun and laugh and smile without a care in the world. Did it help that she only danced when she was drunk? Yes, but that didn’t really matter.

The sight of her smiling has that vice grip closing around your heart again. It was cold and made you feel like you were drowning on dry land. Something about it didn’t sit right with you. Love was supposed to be something warm, something you could crawl back home to. It wasn’t supposed to hurt so bad, was it? Surely there was more to love than the hurt that you couldn’t even tell anyone about.

God was looking down on you. You could feel it. He was looking down at you, waiting to smite you where you stood. If he could hear your thoughts, could feel the way your body reacted to just hearing Lorraine’s voice, he would command Satan himself to drag you down to hell. You would feel the fiery pits of hell before you could ever show anyone how much you loved her.

But a part of you didn’t care. You would face whatever was thrown at you just to see her smile again. To feel her fingers brush against your hand when you passed her a bible at church because she had forgotten one again. You would have stood in front of God himself and rejected the heavenly gates if it meant you could hear her voice each morning you awoke beside her.

Blasphemy.

You knew it was.

You’re condemning your God for something that will never come to fruition.

You knew that too.

“Here ya go,” Stevie said, pulling you out of your downward spiral into a controlled madness. “Should help ‘em sober up a bit.”

“Thanks, Stevie,” you said with another polite smile as you grabbed the glasses he held out to you.

Lorraine and Beau were still dancing when you placed the drinks on the table and drug yourself into your seat. It was one of those tall seats that you almost had to climb into if you were a little shorter. Beau always teased you for it, but you at least got to tease Lorraine in return. She was shorter than you, after all.

“Please tell me these don’t have alcohol in ‘em,” Huck said even as he pulled the glass closer to him. “I can’t keep up with those two.”

“Little bit of whiskey,” you said, “mostly iced tea.”

He nodded once. “I can work with that.”

“Think they’ll dance all night?” You asked, turning your head to look at your boyfriend and the love of your life. That ball in your throat reappeared. You pretended not to notice it.

“They’re already stumblin’,” he said with a shake of his head. “I reckon they’ll come back in a bit.”

You nodded absentmindedly and continued to watch the pair. This very scene was a repeat of when she had gotten back a few months ago. The scenes played out in your head perfectly as you imagined the sound of Lorraine’s laughter to go with her dancing. It didn’t cover the sounds of her moans or the feel of her on top of you, but you were allowed an indecent thought every now and then.

If you were going to hell, you may as well enjoy the moment.

God, your mind was a mess. Maybe you needed to get away from town for a few days.

Lorraine’s voice reached you before she did. If you had been blinded, you would have been able to pick her voice out within a moment. Hers was the voice that guided you through your days, instilling a confidence and comfort that nothing else truly could. It rivaled God himself, and you understood how the prophets could be so comforted when listening to Him.

“You didn’t get yourself a drink,” Lorraine commented when she sat down beside you with the same grace as a newborn lamb.

“I’ll just share yours,” you said.

Her toothy smile sent a jolt to your very core.

“You’re dancin’ with me next, darlin’,” Beau said. He attempted to point at you, but just ended up making a mess and spilling half his drink.

“Ask me again when you’re sober, cowboy,” you teased.

“You goin’ to church with us on Sunday, Rainey?” Huck asked.

“Don’t talk about church,” Beau whined. “We’re tryin’ to have some fun.”

“Yeah, I’ll go,” she answered anyway. “So will the rest of the crew.”

That was new information.

“They’re here?” You asked.

“They said they missed y’all,” she said with a smile that was far more sober, almost even bashful.

“You sure they won’t burst into flames when they step foot inside?” Beau asked. You did your best not to laugh when Huck slapped his arm. Lorraine laughed aloud anyway.

You all talked about everything. You talked about nothing. You talked about plans that meant nothing and everything all at the same time. A vacation, perhaps out west, to see the ocean. Perhaps another one to Tennessee, where Huck knew a family that made moonshine in their shed. Or up to those big ole cities like New York, where rumour had it you could get yourself some crab that you didn’t catch out on the Gulf.

Lorraine’s thigh was flush against yours. It was just warm enough outside to warrant shorts, and even though you were wearing your sundress, you could feel her bare skin against yours. The very thought was indecent to its core. There were so many people around that had no idea of the indiscrete touch, yet it was enough to shake you to your very soul.

“I wanna watch you dance,” Lorraine whispered in your ear. It’s possible it wasn’t a whisper at all, but with the band and talking all around, no one else would have heard.

“I didn’t think you liked watchin’,” you said with a straight face that completely contradicted your teasing thoughts.

“I like watching’ if it’s you,” she said with a mirrored expression.

Damn her and those beautiful brown eyes of hers.

“Come on, lover boy,” you called out to Beau even as Lorraine brushed her knuckles against your thigh underneath the table. “You get one dance.”

“I’ll take it,” he said quickly.

He downed what little was left in his glass before hopping down from the stool. Your feet had barely touched the dirt floor when Beau grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. He was far past tipsy, though you wouldn’t quite say he was drunk. He was, however, well on his way.

“Just a nice lil two-step,” he warned you.

“Don’t drop me,” you warned.

He smiled the dopey, crooked smile that Huck loved so much. “Darlin’, I wouldn’t dare.”

As much as you hated dancing, it wasn’t half bad with Beau. He was one of the best in town, there was no denying the fact. There was something about his two-step that made it different, a little more special. He could have led the blind with how confident he was. Each step, each twist, each dip, you just simply had to follow. Not once would he ever leave you to falter.

You gave him more than one dance; after all, how could you stop when you had seen the look on Lorraine’s face as she watched? What would it feel like to dance with her, you wondered. Would she prefer to lead, or follow? How would her hand feel resting on your hip for something as simple as a dance? Would it send the same jolt of passion through you as everything else she did?

Once the music started to die down, you could feel the blisters starting to form on your heels. You couldn’t recall the last time you had danced in boots, and your feet were reminding you of such a thing. With a small grimace, you realised you would have to take care of them once you got home. The last thing you wanted were untreated blisters.

“I’m done,” you told Beau. You weren’t looking at his face; you were too focused on your feet. “I think I’m gonna regret this come mornin’.”

His grip on your waist tightened. “How’s about one more?”

“I ain’t losin’ my feet for a dance,” you said with a light laugh. You went to turn towards the table, but he pulled you back.

“Just one more,” he insisted. “Then I’ll let you escape.”

You tried to pull away again. “I reckon I really just need to sit dow-”

-Beau’s lips were pressed against yours before you had time to acknowledge the fact. He was pulling you tight, and your hands pushed lightly against his chest. His lips were chapped; they were nowhere near as soft as Lorraine’s. That was the only thing you could think about as the kiss seemed to drag on.

Until it clicked that you were kissing Beau.

No, he was kissing you.

You finally managed to push him just far enough away for you to look at him. He was looking down at you with startlingly sober eyes. That wasn’t like him at all. In all your years of knowing him, he had never sobered up so quickly in his life. He wasn’t a lightweight, but once he was gone? He was gone.

“What the hell was that for?” You asked softly enough for no one around you to hear.

He didn’t answer.

“Beau,” you insisted.

His eyes flickered above your head before meeting yours once again. What was he looking at? You shouldn’t look. The internal voice that so often resembled your guilt sounded more desperate. Desperate like the look on Beau’s face. It was right, you shouldn’t look.

You turned around anyway.

You didn’t immediately see anything out of sorts. Stevie was starting to pack up at the bar, indicative of either shift change or the barn being out of alcohol for the night. At the table, Huck was facing the bar and throwing back a shot that you didn’t recall him getting. Hadn’t he said he was done drinking? He wasn’t really one to go back once he was done.

Until you locked eyes with Lorraine. Who was standing right outside the barn in front of a kneeling RJ. Who’s left hand was clasped between both of his. Who looked painfully sober while he slid a ring onto her finger. Who looked at you with the same look you got from Jimmy and Huck and Roy when she was with RJ.

You weren’t supposed to look.

Each beat of your heart hurt.

“I think I’m done for tonight,” you said around the lump in your throat.

Beau’s arms held you tighter to his chest. “I’ll take you home.” His heartbeats hurt too.

“No thank you,” you said before finally turning back around to face him. You tried not to think too much about the look on his face. “Stay here with Huck and celebrate.”

“Baby-”

“-It’s alright,” you interrupted with a smile that convinced no one. “Stevie’s goin’ my way anyway.”

Every inch of your body was both numb and engulfed in pain all at once. You stood on your toes - ignoring the sting of raw blisters on your heel - and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. He had a bit of stubble; it was scratchy against your lips and made a nice momentary distraction. It wasn’t enough.

He only tried to hold you close for just a moment more. It was nothing more than a half-hearted attempt, and the instant you pulled away, he let you. With each step, you focused on your heels. On walking carefully so the rough leather of your boots wouldn’t tear them to shreds. A practiced walk that any true Southerner had mastered by the time they were old enough to dress themselves.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up when you approached the table. It was itchy and you wanted to scratch it until you ceased to exist. But you didn’t, you kept your hands clasped politely in front of you until you grabbed your hat off the table.

“I’m headin’ on home,” you said to whoever was sitting at the table.

You knew who was at the table.

“You okay-”

“-Just feelin’ a bit sick ‘s all,” you interrupted Huck with a dismissive wave and a fake smile. No one was convinced. “Guess I can’t hold my liquor.”

“Need us to drive you home?” RJ asked. His voice alone set your nerves alight and a new pain radiating across your skin.

“I’ve got a ride,” you said. The next word forced its way out of your mouth. “Congratulations.”

She was looking at you, and you knew it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same. After all, why would you want to see the confirmation on her face? Did she not know what that would do to you? Your heart was barely getting by as it was, you didn’t need to add her pity to the mix.

You patted Huck on the shoulder before turning away, placing your hat back on your head in the process. It still smelled like Lorraine from when she had worn it earlier in the night. The act had made your fingers tingle with hidden excitement. No one had guessed the hidden meaning behind it; it was lovely.

Now it didn’t matter.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Stevie asked. Oh. You were at the bar. “You’re lookin’ a little green.”

“Just feelin’ a bit tired,” you said. “You headin’ my way?”

He tipped his hat. “Sure am.” A shit-eating grin took over his face. “Want a shot and smoke for the road?”

You should’ve said no. Stevie was someone you trusted greatly, and it was clear he wasn’t planning on taking the shot with you. Well, it wasn’t clear, but he only set one shot glass on the bar, so you assumed as much. But it wasn’t about his potential drinking and driving, it was the way it would look. It wasn’t proper for you to be leaving the bar with a man who wasn’t your boyfriend.

Your hands shook. Then again, it wasn’t quite proper for RJ to show up on your night out and propose to the woman you loved, either.

“I’d love one,” you told Stevie with a smile.

“Atta girl,” he said as he poured the whiskey into the glass. Bottom shelf; more than suitable for the job. “The smokes are in the truck.”

The hair on your arms stood up again. You tried not to think about it as you threw the shot back. The sting of alcohol hit your stomach like a semi hitting a brick wall. Nothing was appealing about it, and yet you weren’t disappointed. The sting was better than the pressure getting heavier and heavier on your chest.

“Alright, you ready?” Stevie asked when you slid the glass back toward him.

“Yessir,” you said with a smile that you hoped was more convincing than the last few.

It seemed it was.

The whole group was staring at you, you could feel it. Looking at you in pity, like a stray dog no one wanted. Everyone would feed it, would love it, would treat it well until the moment it came time to go inside. Then it would be left on the streets to fend for itself. With any luck, it would survive until the next encounter, but no one would take the risk of bringing it inside.

“Here you go,” Stevie mumbled as he held the cigarette pack out to you. It was so worn you couldn’t even tell the brand. You didn’t care.

He held the lighter up, and you leaned forward to get the spark. When you inhaled, the scalding ash burned every inch of your throat. It coated your lungs and took the pressure off your chest, if only to relocate it. The truck started driving off before you could exhale that first cloud of smoke. That was okay. You quickly inhaled again.

The burn showed you what hell felt like.

—---

The sun had risen long ago, and you were still in bed. The dusty yellow curtains were drawn, allowing only the thinnest sliver of light to penetrate your room. Whenever you dared to face the world for a few seconds, you could see the dust motes floating in the air, almost like spring snowflakes.

Momma had talked to Mrs. Day on the phone that morning. You hadn’t been present, but you could hear her through the walls. Her excitement at the news made you sick. You simply held your head out of your window and let yourself be sick before crawling back into bed. The blankets did nothing to block out the world, but you could at least pretend to hide away for a few hours.

You tried not to let yourself think about Lorraine; no easy feat considering she held your heart and soul in the palm of her hand. No, if you thought about it for too long, you felt you might turn into Roy. Stuck in your own head, unable to go about the intricacies of life without the trauma constantly looming over your head. You were more than content to lay in your bed and just rot away.

Hell could go ahead and take you. Surely it was no worse than what you were already experiencing.

“Come on, lazy bones,” momma said as she finally made the bold move to open your bedroom door. “Gramma’s here to help with the garden.”

She didn’t wait for you, but you knew the expectation. When momma asked you to do something, you usually had about 15 minutes before she started to pitch a fit. If you wanted to avoid a guilt trip, you would at least be up and in the process of heading outside by the time she started to get irritable.

You made sure to take up every minute you had. The slightly windy weather was perfect for a pair of jeans, so you made sure to take your time picking them out. The worn pair of garden boots sat in the corner; your heels stung just looking at them. It wouldn’t hurt to work barefoot for the day. After all, God brought you into the world without boots, you could experience another day without boots.

Momma and Gramma were already kneeling in the garden by the time you finally managed to make your appearance. Your hat hung low on your brow to block out the high afternoon sun. It was already hot on your arms, but you could work with it. A bit of sun wouldn’t kill you.

No one said a word as you grabbed the trowel and kneeled next to a still forming row of… well, you weren't sure what it would be this year. Last year it had been carrots, but they hadn’t lasted long. Perhaps this year you would make a bold suggestion of black eyed peas again. You knew you could get it right if you had another chance.

“What’s got you so down today, honey?” Gramma asked after what felt like far too long in the sun.

It had only been about five minutes.

“Does it have to do with Rainey gettin’ engaged?” Momma asked. The question made you sick to your stomach again.

“Yeah, kinda,” you said with a shrug even as you refused to look up at either of them.

“Oh honey,” Gramma said softly, “don’t be upset.” You couldn’t help it. “Beau will propose before you know it.”

Oh. Right.

You didn’t want Beau to propose. You couldn’t imagine anything worse than putting Huck through what you were feeling at that moment. Knowing that his heart would break every time he looked at you, no matter how happy he would be for you. He would have to sit on the sidelines, pretending to be joyous about watching his lover marry someone else.

Would he question God the way you did? Because you couldn’t comprehend why you were getting punished for the very fate of falling for someone you shouldn’t have. It wasn’t like you had planned on falling in love with Lorraine; did He really think you would do this on purpose? After seeing how painful life could be, why would you willingly choose such a life? To not feel a single thing for the man you were “supposed” to be with.

Surely it couldn’t have only been you. Surely you weren’t the only one who didn’t feel a certain way for Beau. Momma felt things for daddy, didn’t she? She had to, there was no other explanation. People didn’t just marry someone they didn’t love, did they?

Did they?

“What does love feel like?” You asked aloud to neither one of them in particular.

“What do you mean?” Momma asked.

You set the trowel down and leaned back on your heels. It stung. “When you look at Daddy, do you ever get, I don’t know, butterflies or somethin’?”

You finally looked up and saw both Momma and Gramma look away in thought. You needed them to confirm it. Needed them to tell you that yes, they felt something for Daddy and Pappy. They felt butterflies, and their palms got sweaty, and they wanted to do everything for them because they loved them. They needed to say it.

“Don’t think I ever have,” Momma finally said.

“Never?” You asked indignantly.

“Not that I recall,” she confirmed.

“How about you, Gramma?” You asked.

She needed to answer differently.

“Not for your Pappy,” she said with a shake of her head. “But I’ve felt somethin’ for someone else before.”

“Mom,” Momma scolded.

“Oh please,” Gramma said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “we’re all grown now.” She turned to look at you. “A man I grew up with.” You kept your eyes locked with hers. “Every time we were together, I’d get this giddy feelin’ in my chest.”

“Did you love him?” You asked.

“I believe I did,” she said with a nod. “He was certainly the one I wanted to spend my forever with.”

The pressure in your chest returned. “Why didn’t you?”

“He wasn’t the one I needed to love,” she said with a shrug before going back to digging up a few weeds.

“How d’you know?” You asked. The sweat made it harder to hold the trowel in your hand.

“God told me,” Gramma said as if it was the most logical answer in the world. “I was s’posed to love him, but I needed to love your Pappy.”

The pressure in your chest turned sharp.

“And you?” You asked Momma. “God told you to love Daddy?”

She nodded instantly. “He certainly did, and I thank Him every day for it.”

“But you don’t feel nothin’ special for him?” You asked. You wanted her to deny it.

“I feel what I’m s’posed to feel,” she confirmed.

You looked back down at the dirt. The tiny little splinters of the trowel handle dug into your fingers as you gripped it tighter. If you looked close enough, you could see a worm or two digging through the rich soil. Would it be easier to be that worm? To not have to worry about who to love, or if God would punish you for desiring someone else?

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Momma said, and you felt her hand rest on your shoulder. “Beau seems to be both the one you’re s’posed to love, and the one you need to love.” You felt sick. “You’re mighty lucky for it to turn out that way.”

“Yeah,” you said with a small smile before digging into the soil again.

Even though Momma and Gramma got back to work, you dug mindlessly with your bare hands, the trowel all but forgotten. Perhaps you had given your Momma too much credit. After all of this, she had ended up with someone that she didn’t love. Gramma had missed out on someone she loved because it wasn’t proper. Three generations of women who were stuck.

Was it a punishment? Surely God wouldn’t punish three generations of women for having feelings for someone. Someone that wasn’t ordained as the “right one” for them. No one could be quite that cruel, could they? What happened to love being something pure, a true gift that was to be held dearly?

Maybe your Momma had fallen victim to the same sin as you. Destined to love someone you weren’t meant to be with. The thought made you sick to your stomach. You were your mother’s daughter. And you were all suffering for the sin of love.

—--

Somehow, some way, you had managed to avoid any sort of small talk with people before church had started. You had stood at the doors to tell everyone good morning, giving Beau and Huck quick hugs before ushering them in. Daddy was already in the chapel talking with everyone, and you were more than happy to practically push the Days in without sparing them a second glance.

You ignored the coiling in your stomach when Lorraine gave you that pity-filled smile.

“You clean up nice.”

For the first time in two days, you allowed yourself to smile for a moment. Maxine was the first to give you a hug, then Bobby-Lynne, followed up by Jackson and Wayne. Truth be told, you had missed them too. There was something comforting about knowing that they accepted you, all of you, and wouldn’t shame you for a single thing.

Except for being a preacher. They still teased you for that one.

“And Beau was convinced you’d catch fire when you stepped in,” you said with a small smile.

“Not yet,” Bobby-Lynne said in her most confident tone. It was a good look for her.

“Everyone’s already inside,” you said with a gesture of your head, “go sit where you’d like.”

“We’ll behave,” Wayne said as he tipped his hat at you.

“Please do,” you called out to their backs.

Only a few more people were left before church started and you could finally close the doors. The kid’s church was in the small connected building on the side of the church. It wasn’t anything fancy, but the whole town had pitched in one year to build it. Something about having their own building made the kids more excited to go to church than anything else. And quite frankly, no one cared what the children enjoyed about it as long as they were excited to go.

“Alright y’all, let’s get started,” you said as you closed the doors behind you.

Daddy had made it clear you would never be the head preacher at church; that right was reserved for when Jimmy got back from seminary. You had tried not to act hurt when he had broken the news to you. The original plan had been for you to go to seminary because Jimmy wanted to go to an actual college. But it seemed none of you would get what you want, and you were all having to live with the cards you were being dealt.

Leading kids’ church was something you enjoyed, so you wouldn’t complain too much. After all, kids were far more open to learning than adults were. They wanted to hear whatever they wanted to hear and nothing else. You couldn’t count the number of times you had preached to the adults and they had come up to you afterwards to debate the meaning of a scripture. The joke was on them, though; you had taken enough seminary to know some of the original translations, not just the watered down version they preferred.

It was a wonderful lesson for the day; love thy neighbour. Something most people seemed to have trouble with at one point or another. Hell, even you had issues with it. There was more than once you had wished trouble up on a neighbour. Particularly when they attempted to belittle you when you were trying to live your day-to-day life. You wouldn’t take it back, but you accepted it had been a fault of yours.

“Alright y’all,” you said when the clock on the wall hit 12:30pm. “Let’s pray for our neighbours before we go.”

“Except those faggots, right?”

“Excuse me?” You said as quickly as the words had reached your ears.

Mr. Dylan’s son - Scott - tilted his head in confusion. You had known it was him; he was usually the one who spoke out the most. And his views were… well, they were perfect copies of his daddy’s views, and that wasn’t something you accepted. Especially not when they came out sounding the way it just had.

“I ain’t prayin’ for those faggots up north,” he repeated.

“Don’t say that word,” you said. “Why would you even say that?”

He sighed and looked at you like you were stupid. “Daddy says those fa-” he paused at the look you gave him, “-homosexuals are dyin’ cause they’re sinners.”

That coil in your stomach from earlier had turned into hot lead. A part of your mind told you to keep your mouth shut; you were in the middle of a church in the middle of a very Baptist town. It was dangerous to say anything that could be considered problematic or un-Christian.

But those people were dying and no one cared. They were suffering for loving someone society told them they shouldn’t. No one was trying to help them, they were just being condemned for something they couldn’t help. All the guilt of the world was being thrown onto them for nothing more than the sake of putting the attention on someone else.

Like you, they were being punished for the sin of loving the wrong person.

You could feel a heat growing in your chest. “They’re God’s children too, and they deserve prayers and love just the same as you and me.”

“That ain’t what my daddy says,” Scott defended.

You couldn’t recall another time you had been itching to beat a child.

“Your daddy is divorced,” you said, “and that’s just as much a sin as anything else. We still pray for him, don’t we?”

Scott thought for a moment. “Yes ma’am.”

“Then we pray for everyone, understand?” You said.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied.

“Good,” you exhaled. The heat in your chest wouldn’t go away. “Now bow your heads and let’s pray.”

The prayer was half-assed at best. You couldn’t stop thinking about what Scott had said. The absolute nerve of Mr. Dylan to tell his son such a thing. You could only be so upset with Scott. He was a kid, and kid’s would mimic whatever their parents said. It was natural, and you wouldn’t fault him for it.

But you could certainly fault Mr. Dylan.

The kids all ran out of the church to go meet up with their parents in the parking lot. The sun was starting to shine down on everyone, and you could feel the asphalt burning through the soles of your shoes. They were a horrible pair, but they were the only ones you had that didn’t rub the blisters on the back of your heels. A small price to pay for the sake of not having nasty scars on your feet.

Across the parking lot, you could see the whole crew leaning against their cars. They were all talking and laughing, most likely catching up. You desperately wanted to go over and talk with them. You wanted to be part of their family again, to feel the comfort in acceptance.

But RJ’s arm stayed wrapped around Lorraine’s waist, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to go through that just yet.

You turned your body to go back into the church; you hadn’t grabbed any of your stuff, and Daddy usually wanted help cleaning up before heading out to lunch. If you could help him then maybe God would forgive you for the day. Surely he wouldn’t hate you if you were in His house-

-a loud smack hovered below the ringing in your ears before you felt the sharp sting.

Your eyes teared up almost instantly, before you could even bring your hands up to press against the tender flesh of your right cheek. That heat in your chest from earlier had frozen, leaving you motionless even as the threat loomed above you. Even though you couldn’t make out the words, you could vaguely hear the low rumble of a voice over the ongoing ringing.

When you finally managed to blink away a few tears, you looked up. First you saw someone’s back; they were so close you could smell them. Beau. In front of him was Mr. Dylan, standing tall and furious. He looked like one of the avenging angels. Was he coming to kill you? To end your miserable life and escort you down to hell himself?

“We may not be in the church, but this is still holy ground,” Beau said. He sounded angry. He was never angry.

“Then you best take her out back and beat some sense into her,” Mr. Dylan said just as angrily. Perhaps more. “If she defends those faggots again, I’ll beat her myself.”

“You’ll keep your hands to yourself,” Beau said. At least you thought he did. The ringing still hadn’t gone away. “And you’ll take yourself on home. Now.”

You finally locked eyes with Mr. Dylan, and you wished you hadn’t. He was furious. You couldn’t recall a time you had seen such raw hate in someone’s eyes. What could have caused him to have such a visceral reaction to someone’s differing opinions on life? Was that not one of the better parts of life? Being able to disagree and live in harmony?

“I’m watchin’ you,” he said as he pointed a finger in your direction. But just as Beau had commanded, he turned around and left.

“Are you okay?” Beau asked almost immediately.

“I’m fine,” you said slowly, ignoring the slight copper taste in your mouth. “I just wanna go home.”

“I’ll tell your daddy,” he said. “Go get in my truck.”

You didn’t really listen to what he was saying; the ringing had mostly gone away, but things still sounded a little dull. But you knew you could make it to his truck. Your steps were uncertain at first, and you felt like you were drunk. With the way the world tilted ever so slightly beneath you, you were sure you looked drunk too.

You passed the crew without a glance. If they were looking at you, you didn’t notice. The only thing you could focus on was stepping up into Beau’s truck and the warm metallic blood on your lips. Had it come from Mr. Dylan’s ring? Or had you bitten your lip when your head snapped back? You weren’t sure; you didn’t think it mattered.

The window felt cool on your cheek. It was a welcome feeling, easing the stinging sensation ever so slightly. What you wouldn’t give to have a cold steak on it. Maybe a cold washcloth if you could swing it. But as your eyes started to close and the noises stayed at a low thrum, you figured the window was more than good enough.

You were asleep before Beau came back to the truck.

—---

The barn was empty on Tuesday afternoons. Those were the days you used to find yourself hanging in the rafters with Lorraine. Sneaking away before you had found better ways to be together. Your fingers ran over the rough wooden beams that you had sat on time and time again. Even though it ached, you smiled at the memory. You were thankful you didn’t have to pick splinters out of your ass anymore.

“Beau said you were here.”

You could hear the creaky wooden ladder before you saw Lorraine pulling herself up onto the rafter. It had been just long enough for instinct to kick in, and you looked at her left hand. That ever-present pressure in your chest eased a little when you noticed she wasn’t wearing the ring.

You should have been ashamed of being relieved.

You weren’t.

“How’s your cheek?” She asked. Her hand lifted and hovered over your cheek before she thought better of it and let it fall back to her side.

“Fine,” you said with a shrug. You both knew it was a lie. The bruise had turned an ugly dark that circled your eye and highlighted the split of your lip.

“I don’t love him,” she said without hesitation.

“I know,” you said with a nod as you sat down on the barely-standing hay bale.

Lorraine sat down beside you and let her head rest on your shoulder. You desperately wished she wouldn’t. Her touch still sent a fire down your spine. The feel of your heart beating in sync with yours was enough to drive you to near-insanity. You craved her touch far too much for her to be so gentle with you.

“Can we please talk when I get back?” She said softly. “We have to.”

You didn’t want to talk. Honestly, that was probably the very last thing you wanted. No part of you wanted to hear about her having to marry RJ and pretend to be happy about it. Yeah, you knew it was going to happen. Some part of you had always known it would happen eventually. You were hopeful, but you weren’t stupid.

What you really wanted was for her to hold your hand. To pull you in for a kiss without fear of getting lynched. You had just gotten beat outside of a church, but you wanted to be able to feel love without fear of reprise. And you couldn’t even have something as simple as that, because you wouldn’t dare put her in such a position.

Lorraine lifted her head when you still hadn’t said anything. Her eyes held that pity that you hated. They always seemed to hold that pity when she looked at you. You dared to lift your hand to cup her cheek. The scars were healing up nicely, and you could barely tell the difference when your thumb rubbed lightly against her cheek.

You shouldn’t have done it. The crew was in the driveway, waiting for her to come down so they could get going. You didn’t care. You leaned forward and kissed her lightly, ignoring the sharp pain in your cheek. Her lips were warm and soft; they always were. She tasted of home.

As you sat there, kissing the woman you loved with the desperation of a man on his deathbed, you believed you would be happy if those were your last moments. If God had come down in that moment to take you, you would have been content. The last thing you would have experienced was a moment of love and the taste of Lorraine on your lips.

“I love you,” you mumbled against her lips.

You hoped she understood the many other things you were trying to convey with those three words. I love you. You’re my home. I have betrayed my God and my family for you, and I would do it again. The world hates me and wants me dead, but I would give up everything for you. Only you.

“I love you too,” she said just as softly before leaning forward into another kiss. Something softer. Somehow holding more desperation than the last.

It was all over far too soon. It was bound to be over too soon. Lorraine had a life outside the four walls of the barn, and you were being called back to the church. When she pulled away, you chased her lips for a moment more. One more kiss, one more touch, one more instance of the comfort and turmoil and peace that she instilled within your soul.

“I promise I’ll be back,” she said. “Please be here when I get back.”

You nodded. “I’ll always be waiting for you.”

Her answer was one more kiss, filled with everything she didn’t have time to say. It could have lasted for the rest of your life and it still would have been too short. When she pulled away, everything felt cold. But you were brave. You watched Lorraine head back to the ladder and pause. The tears in her eyes matched your own. As much as you hated to see her cry, it left a feeling in your chest that she hated leaving just as much as you did.

“I love you,” she said. Perhaps a bit too loud. You didn’t care.

“I love you,” you repeated.

She bit her lip and continued her way down the ladder. You let the tears fall freely as you listened to her boots on the gravel making their way to the van. It started up quickly and they were gone almost as soon as the van door closed. The barn didn’t feel so familiar when she was gone. No, it felt empty, foreign.

Sinful.

You waited until the moon was high in the sky before coming down from the rafters. It wasn’t wise to be out so late, but you had nowhere else to go. Beau and Huck had left the night before to help with an emergency, and home held no comfort. All you would have done was rot away in your bedroom, and even that didn’t sound desirable.

Instead, you found yourself walking to the church. It would take a solid thirty minutes, but that was alright. After all, what else would you be doing? You were certainly in no mood to sleep. You wanted to stay awake so you could remember the feel of Lorraine’s lips on yours for as long as possible.

She was right, you would need to talk. Even if it was a talk to cut everything off completely, you both needed to be on the same page. Neither one of you had to be happy about it, but the inevitable was coming to fruition. At some point, one of you was bound to get married. And not to each other.

Perhaps you could all still live near each other. It wouldn’t be the same, and you would still have to hide away, but it would be better than nothing. All you wanted was to stay close to Lorraine by any means necessary. If that meant you could only stay close to her as a friend, you would do it. It would drive stakes into your heart day after day, but it was better than losing her forever.

Your feet were aching by the time you reached the church. Like the true Southern child you were, you had gone barefoot for the night. Your body was used to it, but that didn’t mean the long walk on dirt and gravel wouldn’t leave its mark. Not a single part of you cared about the dust as you opened the church doors and walked into the chapel.

The candles up front were the first things you lit. They weren’t numerous, but they were enough to light the small part of the pulpit that you kneeled in front of you. The carpet was rough against your knees; you must suffer to worship God, your Daddy had said at one point. Nothing about your beliefs were easy, and that was the point.

You rested your hands on your thighs as you looked up at the cross hanging behind the pulpit. It was a simple wooden cross, stained white. If you looked at it hard enough, you could see every one of your sins staining the cross. A horrific red against the startling white.

You wanted answers. You wanted to know why you were being punished. Had you not been good? Had you not been dutiful in your passion for Him? You had done everything you had been told. You had preached, you had read His word, you had followed His rules to the letter. Most people struggled to follow the most basic of rules, and they certainly weren’t being punished.

Tears welled up in your eyes not from sadness, but from anger. He had created you. He had known everything about you and had created you anyway. And now you were being punished for that very same existence? No, you had been good, you had behaved. You were a good girl. What would it take to prove that you were good?

The church doors clicked.

You hastily wiped the tears from your eyes and stood up. No one was supposed to be at the church, it was late. Whether it was a person or an animal, no one was supposed to be around. Should you defend yourself? Daddy usually had a gun at the church, but he had started taking it home lately to prevent accidents.

“Needed some extra prayers?” Mr. Dylan asked. His voice gave him away before you even turned around.

He was in his usual work clothes, but his pistol rested loosely in his hand. Part of you hoped he had brought it for protection from the coyotes and wild boars that liked to roam during the nights. You weren’t entirely stupid enough to believe your own hope.

“How’s ‘bout I pray with you,” he said as he walked closer.

You didn’t want him to. You wanted him to go on home, and you would go on home as well. Neither one of you needed to be in the church so late at night, you both needed to be home. Your families were waiting for you, weren’t they? It wasn’t proper for you to be in the church alone with a divorced man.

“Mr. Dylan-”

“-go on,” he insisted as he used the pistol to gesture to where you had been only moments before. “Kneel and pray.”

You did as instructed. “What would you like me to pray about?”

“Ask God for forgiveness,” he said. You couldn’t see him from where you were kneeling. “For the both of us.”

The carpet still stung on your knees.

“Forgiveness for what?” You asked. Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears you weren’t sure if you would even hear him.

“See if He’ll forgive you for that hellish demon you’ve been afflicted by,” he said.

You kept your mouth shut. You couldn’t recall what he meant. Yes, you had defended homosexuals on Sunday, but surely that wasn’t worth threatening you over, was it? He was a bit rash in his decisions, but he wasn’t ignorant. He wouldn’t risk jail just for this.

“And for you?” You asked.

“See if He’ll forgive me for doin’ His work.”

You heard a familiar sound from the pistol. Your hands shook. Your mind was screaming at you to turn around, to face him. He wasn’t the bravest man, there was no way he would kill you if you were looking him in the eye. And yet, your heart told you to close your eyes and pray.

“Somethin’ ‘bout you never sat right with me,” he continued. “Never figured you for one ‘a them queers.”

You had heard of this happening. Really, you shouldn’t have been surprised. But you were. You were scared. There was no beating around the bush, you were flat-out scared. He was holding a gun to your head. Wasn’t that something Daddy had always talked about in church? If someone held a gun to your head and said he’d shoot you if you were Christian, would you admit it? You had thought it was just some silly question he used to get people to think about his lesson.

You had never imagined he would be right.

“I shoulda done somethin’ ‘bout you years ago.” He just couldn’t quit talking. He’s nervous. “I ain’t gonna let you ruin these kids.”

He cocked the gun again; he must have uncocked it at some point. He just needed to get it over with already, what was he even waiting for?

The shaking in your hands stilled. Perhaps it would be for the best. The suffering would end. What would it be like not to hurt? Surely Lorraine would be alright, she had RJ and the crew. Beau and Huck would keep her safe. They always did. You wouldn’t have to feel that pressure in your chest and you could still watch over her anyway, couldn’t you? Probably better than you were now.

Something cold pressed against the back of your head.

“Say one last prayer.”

You risked tilting your head up to look at the cross one more time. Maybe it was time you died for your sins. After all, you hadn’t lived with the guilt for years without thinking this would happen eventually. How long had you truly thought you could get away with such a secret? No, this was bound to happen.

Lorraine had been smart enough to get out of town. She had gotten herself a beau that would be suitable for the purpose and had left. No one had any time to question her, and as much as you hated it, she had been right. Maybe she could be safe after all of this. Maybe she wouldn’t have to be so afraid.

She would forgive you. Lorraine had never been one to hold a grudge against you. Against others, sure, but not you. You were glad you had told her you loved her earlier. It eased the guilt. She knew you loved her; she knew you would have died for her. You were just upholding your end of the bargain.

You squeezed your eyes shut and let the guilt start to fade away. You had spent so long afraid of what God would do to you for your sins. Seemed He didn’t really care all that much; it was man who cared. No one was going to come save you. You let your mind wander to Lorraine as the barrel pressed harder against the back of your head.

I don’t want God’s forgiveness. I want Lorraine’s.

The metallic sound made you flinch, but you didn’t hear the shot. Your body froze completely. Had you missed it? Were you already dead? It didn’t even hurt, maybe it was quick. That was the best anyone could hope for, right? For it to be quick and painless.

You cracked your eyes open and looked around. It was still your church. The cross still loomed over you like some holy judge and executioner. Were you in purgatory? Well now, that would just be worse than hell, you believed. An entire afterlife full of nothing? You would rather burn in the fiery pits.

“I suggest you step away from my sister.”

“Roy?” You asked immediately even though you knew you should have kept quiet.

You turned around quickly, ignoring the carpet burns on your knees. It was him. Roy was standing near the back of the chapel, rifle held in steady hands. You didn’t know he still had one. It was aimed directly at Mr. Dylan who, for the first time, looked surprised.

“You’d best put that gun down, boy,” Mr. Dylan said. “This don’t involve you.”

“It does if you threaten my sister,” he said again. He wasn’t looking at you but gestured his head. “Come on, sweetheart.”

“Stay where you are,” Mr. Dylan said. He froze when Roy readjusted the rifle.

You kept your eyes on Mr. Dylan as you slowly pushed yourself up to your feet. His grip on the pistol tightened, but he otherwise stayed still. Each step you took was slow, calculated. It felt like you were walking before God to the gates for judgment. Your every move was scrutinised and all it would take was one wrong step.

But he never did anything. He just watched you until you were standing firmly behind Roy. The shakiness that accompanied his every move was gone, replaced with something you didn’t recognise. It was reminiscent of the old Roy, the one who had never gone to war. The only difference was the dull look in his eyes.

“Go get in the truck,” Roy said softly.

“What?” You looked at him. “I ain’t leavin’-”

“-Now.”

There was a harsh tone to his words. Authoritative. He sounded just like Daddy when he was preaching. It left no room for argument; his word was law. There was too much comfort in the way he held the rifle. If you left him, would he kill Mr. Dylan? Would he kill a man in the middle of the church?

He had nearly done the same to you.

Perhaps that was a good point.

“Okay,” you said aloud since he wasn’t looking at you.

You backed away slowly, keeping your eyes glued to the both of them. The last thing you wanted was to turn around and have something happen. It would have been shameful to go out that way. But no one else moved; they just stared at each other until you were out of the church and could run to Roy’s truck.

The silence was almost painful. You could hear the crickets outside creating a symphony with the locusts. If you strained your ears, you could hear a few frogs. But you weren’t listening to the wildlife; you were listening for the gunshot you were afraid was imminent.

Each second ticked by so slowly you felt you had aged another few years. What was taking him so long? He needed to leave Mr. Dylan alone so you could both go home. You could all get some sleep and pretend none of this had ever happened. You wouldn’t tell anyone if he didn’t, you just wanted it all to be over so you could see Lorraine again.

It felt like your heart had nestled in your throat by the time Roy walked outside. He wasn’t even looking back at the church. The rifle was casually slung over his shoulder, and for a moment, you could imagine him in the war. But then he got in the truck and tossed the rifle in the backseat.

He didn’t even put on his seatbelt before driving off.

“What happened?” You asked.

He didn’t answer.

“Roy,” you said again.

He missed the road to your house.

“That’s our turn,” you said aloud.

His hands gripped the wheel tighter.

“Roy, what the hell is goin’ on?” You asked again.

“We stay here, they’ll kill you.” The blood in your veins froze. “I know some guys out East.”

You leaned back in the seat and looked out the window. It was dark outside, but the stars were bright. Orion’s Belt was there, just as always. Night after night, he appeared to give you consistency and comfort. You didn’t entirely feel it.

“What about Lorraine?” You asked. There was no point in hiding it anymore; Roy wasn’t stupid.

Roy sighed. “She’s got Beau and Huck.”

His words didn’t put the pressure back in your chest. No, it was something worse now. It wasn't pressure, it was a knife. A knife that had missed your heart completely, keeping you alive as it twisted deeper, touching your very soul with its fiery edges.

Lorraine wouldn’t know what happened to you. She wouldn’t know where to find you. What if something happened and she needed you? What if you needed her? That wasn’t supposed to be the last kiss you gave her. You weren’t supposed to leave without even telling her goodbye. How were you expected to keep going when you knew you couldn’t see her again?

A hot tear fell down your bruised cheek. God had a cruel sense of humour.

You would have rather died. At least it wouldn’t hurt so bad.

#lorraine day x reader #lorraine x reader #lorraine day #jenna ortega x reader

263 notes · View notes

jasmines-library · 6 months

Text

BATFAM/DC MASTERLIST

Gotham City Library:

Total Works: 44

Last updated: 12 April 2024

⛤ MASTERLIST ⛤

ONE SHOTS:

⛤ Tried and True

Summary: During a fight with Bane you get critically injured but leave it hidden from your brothers. When they find out, it's a race against time to get you back to the safety of the manor.

⛤ I’ll make this up to you

Summary: after being kidnapped by the joker, Jason is forced to watch you being tortured when you beg to take his place.

⛤ Catch Me if I Fall - Save Me When I Drown(pt2)

Summary: after the death of Jason, you can’t help but feel guilty, so you resort to some unhealthy coping methods.

⛤ The ‘Do Not Call’ List

Summary: After finally escaping your life one night without saying goodbye to your family, you find yourself in jeopardy, which leads to a well anticipated call.

⛤ Needle and Thread

Summary: Dick is forced to carry out a life-saving emergency surgery when you are too far away to reach help before it becomes too late.

⛤ Lost and Found

Summary: After falling into a trap, you are captured by Scarecrow and exposed to his fear toxin. When your older brothers arrive to help you, your fear gets the better of you

⛤ Lazarus Rising

Summary: after an accident takes your life, your brothers manage to find a way to bring you back. But it leaves you with a set of prominent scars that you struggle to come to terms with. But your brothers are there to help you realise that you are beautiful just the way you are.

⛤ Unbroken Valour

Summary: Ignoring his orders, Tim leaves to face the Joker after he escapes Arkham. Fearing for his safety, you chase after him and when he is put in a life threatening position, you don't think. You just do.

⛤ Ask Again Later

Summary: You are being flooded with threats. Text after text after text or headings about how your brothers were going to die if you didn’t make a descision. It was simple. Your life, or theirs.

⛤ Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?

Summary: Reader suffers through aftermath of a SA, but once the batfam discover it, they are by your side to help you out.

⛤ One Step At a Time

Summary: The batfam help suicidal!reader

⛤ Wait For You

Summary: Whilst trying to protect your brother on a patrol, an explosive causes you to fall into a coma. Your brother stick by you through your recovery.

⛤ The Stranger In The Mirror

Summary: Whilst on solo patrol, you fall into The Joker's trap. He then brainwashes and tortures you into becoming the Joker Junior to help wreak havoc in Gotham and your family have to try to persuade you to believe them that they are there to help you. (i can't write summaries I get it.)

⛤ The Ghost of You

Summary: after your death, the batfam struggle to navigate their lives without you.

⛤ Loaded Silence

Summary: Kidnapping/tortured for information

⛤ Veins

Summary: Reader passes out on a patrol and won’t wake up

⛤ Jokes On Me

Summary: chatty!reader has an encounter with the joker, where their torture is live-streamed to the cave. When they return home, they become a shell of who they were before.

⛤ Tired Eyes

Summary: It’s been a long day, and you’re too caught up with work to take care of yourself, so it’s up to your brothers to do it for you.

⛤ The Cover Up

Summary: You're tired of living a lie. of living in a constant state of secrecy. You want out, but you have to wait for the perfect opportunity to strike. That finally comes in the form of Dick Grayson, but things so sideways when the Court send assassins after you and you are forced to rely on a team of masked vigilante's and long-time enemies of the Court to save your life. (gn reader :))

⛤ Hold Me Like A Grudge

Summary: Ever since you joined your father at his home, Damian Wayne had despised you. He tries to spend his time as far away from you as possible, until one night you seek comfort in him after a nightmare and everything changes. (gn reader :))

⛤ Fight Or Flight

Summary: The batfam comfort reader during a panic attack.

⛤ My Way Home is Through You

Summary: Reader with powers gets adopted in after the batfam patch them up.

⛤ Brother Mine

Summary: Male Reader is a child weapon with electricity powers, created with the intent to kill Cassandra after she escaped, though when he tried to take her down and he gets caught he ends up with much more than he bargained for.

⛤ Heal

Summary: You have the ablilty to transfer a wound to yourself, but the only thing is, the vigilantes only think that the injury gets healed, so when the find out fluff ensues. - it’s kinda angsty in some places.

⛤ Look After You

Summary: when you fall asleep on Jason’s shoulder, the boys take care of you.

⛤ Just The Way You Are

Summary: the batfam reassure reader with an ED

⛤ Tlusty Czwartek

Summary: The Batfam celebrate Tlusty Czwartek with Polish reader

⛤ Kitchen Antics

Summary: Just a fluffy one shot about the reader being allowed to cook and the batfam being jealous.

⛤ Heartbreak Doesn’t Feel So Good

Summary: Batfam comfort reader after her partner cheats on her

⛤ Metalhead

Summary; the batboys react to reader who listens to a lot of metal music.

⛤ Baby Wayne

Summary: youngest Wayne child learns about Batman and Robin at school and rambles to their family.

⛤ Bullet With Butterfly Wings

Summary: Enemies to lovers (Jason x reader)

⛤ Flu Season

Summary: reader is sick and wants cass to look after them

⛤ Arts and Crafts

Summary: Danish reader crochets and knits gifts for the batboys

⛤ Changes (spn x dc)

Summary: You are sick of Sam and Deans bickering, so you head to Gotham to hunt some vampires where you meet some very interesting vigilantes.

⛤ Batfam with batsis who was a black widow

- Part 2

⛤ Batfam with reader from Buffy The Vampire Slayer AU?? Idk how to title it

⛤ Batfam with a non vigilante reader

⛤ Batfam with Reader with adhd/autism

⛤ Batfam with Spider-Man/silk reader

⛤ Batfam with art prodigy reader

⛤ Batfam with Samoan!reader

⛤ Batfam with Selina Kyle reader

701 notes · View notes

readychilledwine · 19 days

Text

Matching Wounds

Summary - The first High Lord's meeting after the war with Hybern brings some old memories up that Lyria and Rhys would have rather forgotten, leaving their mates to try to patch together wounds they can't see.

Warnings - degrading language, asshole brothers, hinting to PTSD without getting into full signs and symptoms

Prompt - Day 2 - Comfort

A/n - Happy @polyacotarweek! I've been asked about Lyria and Rhysand's dynamic as well as Azriel and Feyre's, and I felt today was a good day to give a preview into it, and into what Olive Branch will focus on, which is the comfort Rhys and Lyria found in each other UTM.

This is a non-sex based swinging dynamic. Rhysand is more of a secondary romantic partner to strictly Lyria, as Azriel is with Feyre, which is vastly different than the relationship we see in Fours Company between Lyria, Az, and Nessian.

💙 Meet Lyria Here 💙

✨️ Poly+ACOTAR Masterlist ✨️

There was a reason Rhysand had promised Lyria she would never attend a High Lord's meeting. She was clinging to him in his bed now as Feyre and Azriel just watched. Heavy sobs had turned into small sniffles as Rhys stared at the wall, eyes lost and hand moving absentmindedly along her exposed spine.

Feyre had only gotten to see Lyria once under the mountain and now she knew why, “Rhysand's whore,” the term had been spat at her by her own older brother before he did truly spit at her feet. “Rhysand's Whore,” who had been trapped in his room. Wasting her days away in the same style of dresses Feyre wore, sitting on his lap the nights Feyre wasn't.

It was ironic, really. The four of them, Eris, and Lucien all knew Rhysand never touched Lyria, never laid a finger on her skin until they had agreed to this, yet to the outside world, Rhys had already had her in ways Lyria had never experienced.

Feyre knew from the bond that Rhysand was lost in his own mind as well. Lost in the regret he felt. Lost in the images of different red hair, paler skin, and dead eyes.

“Ideas?” She whispered softly to Azriel.

“Dinner and leaving them be,” his scarred hand still held Feyre's perfect one. “It's all we can offer them. You and I do not know what happened to them fully. We do not know what brought them together. We just know Rhys refused to be away from her and brought her here once you freed everyone.”

“Do you want to fly to the bakery they love and pick up dinner with me?”

Azriel rose a brow before kissing her tattooed hand. “Of course.”

Rhysand felt himself clinging to Lyria. Clinging to the soft fabric of her dress, clinging in her textured hair, clinging to the scent of her skin. He loves Feyre. Loves her so dearly and completely, but the comfort he found in Lyria was unmatched.

She had been there during his darkest nights, whispering how she saw him, how she knew him beyond that mask he wore.

And now she was paying the price for being his comfort. “Rhysand's whore,” the name replayed itself in his mind over and over. He had watched it land on Lyria. Watched the light in her eyes flicker, watched her shrink into herself, watched her push Azriel, Nesta, and Cassian away.

But she clinged to him. The same way he did her. She wanted him, but she waited until they were home. Amarantha's whore and Rhysand's whore. What a fucking pair, he thought bitterly.

Lyria had her head buried in Rhysand's neck, breathing in his scent and feeling it wash over her. She thought nothing of it as he laid them back, running fingers through her hair. “Our mates went out.”

She nodded, feeling his warmth as his head turned to hers. “They shouldn't miss date night because you and I are sad.”

Rhys simply hummed, hand going to the hair at the back of her head and tilting her face up toward his. “No, no, they should not.” Rhys continued to massage her scalp as whiskey eyes held his. “You know nothing they said was true, right?”

“It does not make it hurt any less. Even if my brother was just saying it as a mask. It also doesn't make those memories of that place go away.”

Rhys understood all too well, pulling her impossibly closer. “I'm sorry I could not protect you soon.”

A soft kiss hit his jawline. “And I'm sorry I couldn't protect you.”

“He doesn't need protection. Big bad illyrian baby,” Feyre's voice was sarcastic as she and Azriel came back to the room, bags of food in hand. “We are going to leave you two alone, but we brought you your favorites.”

“Why leave?” Rhys rose a single brow, but refused to look away from Lyria. “We Should all eat together. Be together.”

Azriel looked to Feyre, the two of them communicating silently. “We can feel you two wanting to be alone. We're offering that.”

Lyria sighed. “Sometimes wanting to be alone isn't the best answer. Stay. We can all take comfort in each other and all help each other get our minds off what happened.” Azriel looked to Feyre caving as he walked her over to the couches. “Come on, mister High Lord.” Rhys rolled his eyes as he was pulled over, Lyria sitting beside him as Azriel sat beside Feyre. Silence was between the four of them, relishing in the safety and comfort of each other.

“So, is no-one going to talk about it?” Lyria's face grew into an all too familiar snake-like grin. “Surely you all saw the absolute monstrosity of an outfit father was wearing.”

Azriel smirked at his mate, “Gossip.”

“Learned it from you,” she turned to Feyre. “And you.” She kissed Rhysand's cheek, “And most definitely from you. Now talk about my family with me to make me feel better.”

“The little things make you happy, don't they, darling?” Rhys turned her jaw. “Such a simply pretty girl.”

Feyre's eyes lit up. “The prettiest girl.”

“My pretty girl,” Azriel reminded them.

“Our pretty girl.” Rhysand and Feyre both said.

“Our pretty girl who deserves all the affection tonight,” Feyre continued. “Maybe she and I will run away and you two can brood and compare shadows.”

Azriel took his turn choking before laughing. “We don't brood all the time.”

“Yes you do.”

Lyria leaned into Rhysand's shoulder, feeling lighter from the distraction. I love you, he sent into her mind. We all love you. You are safe here.

So are you, she reminded him. You are safe and loved, too. This is a good distraction. They are stunning together.

It is, and they are. She loves Azriel very much. By the way, it's not Beron's worst outfit to date.

Lyria's eyes grew wide turning to Rhysand as Feyre and Azriel continued to agree playfully. “Show me?”

“Of course, darling.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys

Poly+Acotar Week 2024 Taglist:

@amara-moonlight @toporecall @littlestw01f @prettylittlewrites @anuttellaa @nayaniasworld @123345566

#acotar #acotar x oc #azriel x oc x feysand #azriel x vanserra!oc #rhysand x vanserra!oc #feysand x azriel #feysand x oc #poly!acotar #poly+acotarweek #poly+acotarweek d2 #poly+acotarweek 2024 #poly+acotarweek 2024 d2

189 notes · View notes

the-floral-perspective · 3 months

Text

More creepypasta headcannons!

+the women this time! Also these aren’t sexual, but there will be references to drinking, drugs and sex

And in most of these I am ignoring what is actually cannon so I’m sorry, I just like thinking more on the wholesome side of this fandom.

Also, I understand that Sally is like not at all like her OG story, but this is how I like to interpret her so please don’t hate!

Jeff the killer

Age: 22

Wine Problems: got citric acid rubbed into his healing mouth scar by EJ and Ben. (He splattered paint all over Ben’s gaming system Bc he wouldn’t give him free weed. EJ joined because of the “Tear-alliance”)

Head-cannons

“erm actually ☝🏻”

-He buys a lot of flip phones to prank the pastas. Specifically Ben, Jane and Hoodie. Tbh kind of a big bully. Also definitely steals slenders money.

-Lactose intolerant

-eats hot Cheetos like an mf

-he’s oddly spiritual??? But in a scared way, he thinks the gods are coming for him just cause 🤷🏻‍♂️

-he thinks he’s slick whenever he steals Slenders money, but slender knows.

-one time for a TikTok, he tried getting one of the pastas to do the candy man dance with him but no one wanted to join him except for Hoodie Bc he felt bad 😭

-every normal person thinks his TikTok is a devoted cosplayer, but he’s not.

-he’s actually really depressed about Liu, but he never rlly addressed it with himself. He just ignores it and him Bc he doesn’t know how to react.

Jane the Killer

Age: 23

Wine Problems: Sally accidentally got shoved by Jeff during a quarrel and now she has to get Sally to stop crying before Slender comes back from meeting his brothers.

Head-cannons

-makes so many funny faces to herself and actively talks to herself in front of people (and mid convo too)

-you will catch her pacing down the main hallway with headphones in when she’s angry.

-AWFUL BAKER idk HOW she just can’t bake. It always burns.

-her natural hair is shoulder length, black and curly.

-Her wife is a normal person (granted immunity from slender), her name is Lillian.

-Toby was the ring bearer for the wedding, Sally and Lazari (when she was young) were the flower girls. Lillian’s brother walked her down the isle, Toby walked Jane down the isle afterwards. Jeff at the reception gave a surprisingly good speech about Jane and their marriage… but then he got destructive drunk and had to be carried out Frank Gallagher style.

-she has a separate house and identity that she uses away from the mansion to be normal with her life and be the adult she couldn’t be.

-she’s never rlly at her other house tho.

-she loves having deep scientific talks with people to see their ideas and to read them better.

-she’s a really good person to talk to about passion projects Bc she’ll engage in your thoughts and use her knowledge to help you with whatever your stuck on or thinking of. She also hypes too.

-her and Kate are like the main watchers/caretakers of new pastas to make them feel comfortable.

-she is actively the only pasta who has seen Slenders human form.

Ben drowned

Age: 19

Wine Problems: Jeff and sally creating a doll out of Ben’s hair. The hair from his shower drain. Then them harassing him with it, trapping him in the livingroom TV.

Head-cannons

-The house dealer

-Everyone is trying to get all up in his business

-it takes him 20 minutes every morning doing his hair and skin routine.

-his favorite video game is RDR2

-chronic Jacksepticeye fanboy. Has attempted to see him on tour awhile back ago.

-his room is clean, but so weird. Like he has Minecraft posters and odd shit like that. He also has those LED lights on his walls and a really fucking expensive gaming setup.

-does not punch his walls.

-he has a pet tarantula named Bea.

-he chronically enjoys Pepsi. It’s kind of gross. Also he is HUGE on snacks, like he has a mini fridge.

-also to be allowed in his room you have to cashapp him 5$ if you’re in their for longer than 15 minutes for “wasting his time”

-he listens to a lot of French music and video game soundtrack to fall asleep.

-he LOVES Skyrim.

-he knows a lot abt tech since he’s a video game ghost/glitch, but it’s not his only personality.

Clockwork

Age: 20

Wine problems: recently started hearing voices after accidentally eating one of the special brownies in the kitchen. She’s in the corner in the living room having a bad trip. Lazari is behind her comforting her. (Clockwork currently doesn’t think she’s real)

Head-cannons

-asexual and aerosexual. They just are rarely attracted to people.

-LOVES low-rise jeans

-she’s like hella sarcastic and definitely has disorders (undiagnosed)

-for the most part she’s pretty quiet, speaks more with her hands than her mouth.

-tall af, like 5’11.

-whenever she gets a migraine you might as well shoot her since she has the clock in her eye 😭

-her favorite movie series is SAW. She has actively built some of the prototypes like the reverse bear trap.

-she collects animal teeth and bones.

-her room gives very much teenage dirtbag.

-after awhile she starts hating people she hangs around Bc she’s bad at setting boundaries. That’s one of the reasons she broke up with Toby.

-very passionate about politics and her assignments.

-she has a cat named Bubble, she’s a Siamese cat and she surprisingly cuddly. Bubble hates everyone but clockwork and sometimes she sits on Clockworks shoulder.

Ticci Toby

Age: 22

Wine problems: he was out getting groceries for the pastas and then a group of 13 yr olds started harassing him (he bought one of those lobsters in the water) until he went to his car.

Head-cannons

-buys the house groceries once a week.

-genuinely careless. Like he is so straight faced tbh. Unless you’re really funny and he’s seriously caught of guard.

-eats so much chocolate it’s insane. LOVES hot chocolate.

-his stutter does get better, but it’s still pretty present.

-he does not like Jeff. At all.

-sometimes he can be such an accidental dickhead. He does not know timing like at all.

-you will see him awake at 5AM eating salad.

-he love’s Hollywood undead almost an unreasonable amount. Borderline stalkery.

-excellent organizer and party planner, typically helps Kate with designing shit.

-he doesn’t really know how to feel about the pastas, he just rlly like Jane though. She reminds him of everything he’s lost.

-he loves to draw birds and birdwatching.

-he only kills his assignments.

Judge Angels

Age: 25

Wine problems: she spilled a glass of milk on smile dog and is currently hiding in her room until he goes away. Also got caught gatekeeping by Lazari.

Head-cannons

-can’t handle certain writing styles. Like she hates commas and all capitalized letters. They just grind her gears.

-her favorite food is mangos.

-tbh shopping addict. She’s always buying small trinkets and organizing boxes. On her way to becoming a horder. (Not really but kinda)

-probably one of the funniest pastas (if you unlock her first)

-sometimes she’ll randomly turn to a southern accent but she doesn’t realize it.

-easily cringable. She’s either giggling, lost or just staring. It’s kind of funny tho.

-She’s so bad at scheduling. She makes plans on plans and forgets other plans and it’s highly irritating. Almost every pasta gets annoyed at her for this.

-she makes a mean French toast.

-her closet consists of the same outfits repeated and she lacks confidence. She doesn’t gain much until she became friends with the girls of the mansion and they started introducing her to different feminine/masculine styles. She now comfortably represents androgynously.

-she has dimple piercings.

Puppeteer

Age: unknown

Wine Problems: the clown-posse (LJ, Jason and Candypop) are all on his ass because the past week all of them have seen him steal something of theirs at least once. LJ lost 5 items, Jason lost 2 and Candypop lost 3.

Head-cannons

-mischievous fucker.

- ‘swiper no swiping’ my ass.

-he’s seen the entirety of paw patrol and kind of loves the show?? It’s just so stupid, he loves making fun of it.

-has literally 0 sympathy and will laugh at your misfortune to your face.

-he can eat anything spicy without feeling it. Sour candy tho? You might as well shoot him.

-can’t handle his alcohol.

-calls the mansion his trap house.

-has a bit where he calls the pastas his whores since him and slender have similar powers.

-He’s not that much of a dick though, he won’t attempt to control someone unless they sign a contract.

-hates looking into mirrors, they make him depressed.

-has phases of sleeping 24/7 and staying up for days on end.

-don’t bother him when he’s snug as a bug in a rug, he will kill you if you interrupt him.

-he LOVES a good soft blanket. No matter where you will catch him with a cute blankie, as long as it’s soft. His favorite blanket is from Liu during their secret Santa Christmas celebration. It’s a navy blue blanket with white tiny flecks representing stars.

-sometimes he thinks really deep and looks at the sky at night, but he doesn’t understand much since he’s the personification of self-deletion. He has trouble understanding emotion and how he feels sometimes so he lashes out.

-sometimes he takes it bad when he thinks about how the pastas think he’s an asshole bc he wants to be seen as more than that but he never really shows that.

-British 😏

Nurse Ann

Age: 25

Wine problems: she woke up with both of her legs missing, someone (she doesn’t know who), stole her needle and thread. She can’t attach her legs until then, so far she’s been in her wheelchair. No luck.

Head-cannons

-her eyes are completely black.

-her favorite hobby is cleaning and sewing. Both of them just calm her down whenever she’s feeling jittery or anxious. For Christmas she sees a bunch of sweaters for the pastas.

-when she was 13 she worked at a local restaurant as a waitress.

-her legs come off if her stitches come undone. Sometimes the Pastas will purposely cut the thread as a joke. (It’s all in good fun tho, shes okay with it).

-plus sized

-can speak Spanish and French! She was one of those hella smart girls in class.

-she plays a lot of LoveNikki.

-she was a theater kid in highschool. Her school did sweeny Todd and she played Mrs Lovett.

-her and eyeless Jack are geniuses of the mansion. Ppl tried setting them up, but neither of them felt the vibe. They’re good acquaintances tho.

-Slender doesn’t send her out on much assignments since she’s normally so busy with the pastas injuries. The only reason why EJ goes out as much as he does is to get food— that he insists he can do by himself.

Bloody Painter

Age: 24

Wine problems: fell asleep while painting. His clothes is ruined and so is his painting. In his hella sassy feels rn. Totally sulking. Abt to drown himself in the shower.

Head-cannons

-snarky bitch.

-he LOVES white chocolate macadamia cookies.

-“wtf”

-he can’t HANDLE it whenever someone is watching what he’s doing or questioning his method of doing things. It makes a certain spring in his head snap.

-I’m ngl I think he’s always super tired. Probably cause he’s besties with puppeteer. Like this man is eepy, he’s a cute sleeper tho.

-he’s silent but scary. You will NEVER hear him coming. He could be behind you waiting and you genuinely would not notice until you’re dead.

-I feel like he spends a lot of time in his room painting, but whenever he gets an art block he might as well cry. He genuinely doesn’t know what to do when he can’t paint. His three options are; crying, reading or eating.

-Jeff is always joking around with him, but he doesn’t really play along with it… even tho he tries to get closer to a lot of the pastas. Jeff just isn’t one he’s interested being nice too.

-he watched miraculous ladybug once and almost cried.

Rouge

Age: 25

Wine problems: she accidentally ripped her pants and not in the cute way. Also her worn down converse she’s had since she was 15 finally wore out and broke down.

Head-cannons

-she’s not that messy, but for the aesthetic she can be. She’s not afraid of getting dirty.

-she has a dream journal that she writes in every morning Bc it helps her lucid dream. She only likes lucid dreaming Bc she feels in control, though this has accidentally lead to sleep paralysis.

-she’s super sensitive to the cold.

-she’s really good friends with clockwork.

-she’s honestly a creative genius. She loves literature and art and performance. Though sometimes she gets completely lost in her work.

-constantly in a state of escapism.

-she kind of reminds me of Charlie from Perks of Being a Wallflower. That’s probably her favorite movie too.

-she loves hanging around the girls of the mansion, they make her feel at home. Like she’s sm more comfortable around them than others. Sometimes when a new pasta arrives and they throw an honoring ceremony, the girl pastas will all get ready together in Slenders room! (His room is the biggest and he’s cooking all the food with the boys)

Masky

Age: 25

Wine problems: ran out of storage on his phone, now he has to delete the many photos and videos of him pranking Toby in his sleep.

Head-cannons

-he’s not as much as a dickhead as he seems, like he’s actually pretty chill and he has simple boundaries.

-he’s more of a loner if anything, the one person he like actually talks to tho is Toby and hoodie. Hoodie as an acquaintance and Toby as a little brother.

-sometimes he can get a little crazy, but that’s expected.

-he’s the easiest pasta to scare, this mf is JUMPY.

-he is a chronic shitposter.

-he loves self care tho. Like he’s always showering or getting shower stuff. He has like a collection of shower stuff.

-he used to have his ears pierced as a rebellion against his parents as a teen, but they closed. Sometimes he wishes he could get them repeirced.

-he’s like the type of guy who takes bubble baths a lot Bc he’s stressed all the time. Like he’s ALWAYS irritated abt something.

-you know he’d run a Walmart deli like his bitch.

-regardless, he takes his job too seriously and sometimes slender gets a lil concerned abt him Bc he literally gets crazy sometimes.

-rated T for ‘Too hard to work with’

Laughing Jill

Age: unknown

Wine problems: choked on a piece of hair and the next person that talks to her is getting the belt. Also couldn’t answer a simple math equation in a debate with hoodie so now everyone is calling her a bimbo.

Head-cannons

-she makes SO MANY TIKTOK VIDEOS, almost TikTok famous (she doesn’t show her or anyone’s face on cam)

-almost started a mukbang account.

-her and Jack came from the same Angel hence their name and design.

-she cried when watching the fnaf movie.

-she wears some odd earrings and she actually adds some color in her wardrobe too, unlike Jack.

-she is really into evanescence.

-has an aggressive southern accent (like Millie from Helluva Boss)

-southern lass girlboss sass idk

-she absolutely HATES water, like swimming is her biggest nightmare. She hates the ocean and ocean animals. They just creep her out.

-she’s not really close with anyone but she yaps sm. The one who tolerate it the most is probably Kate, Ben and Bloody painter.

-she’s been in a mosh pit a couple times and the first time someone threw a PB&J sandwich on her. She almost cried.

Hoodie

Age: 26

Wine problems: trying to keep control of the house. Put away the brownies, constantly cleaning. Is forced to give up once Jeff throws ice cream at the ceiling.

Head-cannons

-no matter where, he only wears converse.

-tbh think he watches some anime.

-I feel like if he ever was rapping he’d be really good at it.

-with assignments he’s one of the most efficient out of the mansion, some people don’t like him cause of it.

-he stays out of most peoples way, sometimes he’ll help Nurse Ann clean tho. He probably reads often with Sally too.

-he’s a loyal confidant to all no matter what and he’s relatively judgment free.

-he has an aggressive model walk, might as well call him Adriana Lima.

-him and Toby are like the only pastas with bad facial hair and sometimes in the morning they shave together 😭

-he cringes so hard knowing that there’s a whole fandom that he’s one of the stars in, like he thinks it’s a bit odd.

-ever since toby got high and went anonymous online, creating a fandom revolving around their house and friends. Things have been a bit wary between the two.

Sally

Age: physically 8, mentally 215

Wine problems: got accidentally shoved by Jeff (sobbing). Missing slender, also is tired of the bull going on in the house. Mf is abt to yell.

Head-cannons

-she totally gets annoyed at the pastas Bc they all treat her like she’s her physical age. Like I feel like this is something that genuinely pisses her off.

-even tho she is 215, she’s very childish, like she loves Disney and animated movies.

-She doesn’t really play with dolls but she has a collection of them in her room.

-She sometimes goes to school for fun to lurk out other possible pastas with bad home lives. (They wouldn’t get assignments until theyre 18 at least)

-she’s very easily disgusted by visuals or concepts. She can’t watch Wallace and grament without wanting to die.

-she was the one that started the idea of sending assignments for the pastas, Slender agreed Bc she’s basically the daughter he always wanted. (She’s also the one who suggested they make it like a business scheme to attract those meant to be apart of the pastas so they don’t have to scout ppl out.)

-she is very strong politically and she is very open with what she has to say.

-very creative and smart, she reads often on multiple different subjects. She can speak Russian, ASL, French, Spanish and she knows Morse code. She’s trying to learn piano or violin too. She’s essentially a prodigy.

-she’s teaching some of the other pastas different languages, specifically Kate and Rouge who want to learn Morse code.

-specific requests with assignments are ran By Sally before she goes to slender with them.

Laughing Jack

Age: unknown

Wine problems: losing his final straw with puppeteer. Is about to pour hot sauce in his eyes. Eagerly awaiting dinner and sleep. Genuinely one of the only times in his life he’s ever been exhausted.

Head-cannons

-he cries after sex, no matter what.

-he thinks EJ shouldn’t be called Jack when he came first as the first Jack, but everyone calls him LJ.

-very British.

-he compliments Bloody Painters art whenever he sees it.

-Jeff is always making jokes abt how old he is and it pisses him off. (He got asked if dinosaurs really had feathers.)

-for awhile on YouTube he did ASMR without showing his face.

-he doesn’t know how to drive at all and he has a horse collection of dolls. It’s kinda weird but the pastas think it’s bc he people used to ride carriages so that’s what Jack is most used to seeing. They’re not wrong.

-he doesn’t really like music, it’s so loud for his sensitive earbuds.

-he can genuinely hear everything.

-the only movie he cried at was the Freddy Mercury movie.

Lazari

Age: 16, appears however she wants to.

Wine problems: grounded for stealing a cat, can’t go to the mansion so she’s angsty and listening to old Evanescence. Also lookin a lot like Ramona Flowers rn (blue hair version)

Head-cannons

-she eats a LOT of icecream sandwiches.

-she reads a lot of comics, her favorite comic character is Raven (Rachel Roth) Bc she relates to her backstory a lot.

-before she knew her dad, she had a creepypasta fan account. Zalgo forced her to delete it.

-when Unus Annus ended she didn’t leave her room for a week. She was a MESS

-she influenced Candypop hella when getting into the Scott Pilgrim vibe and dying hair. She was his biggest supporter.

-she reads a LOT. She used to love Twilight too.

-she was a huge Percy Jackson nerd. She wants to play Thalia in a live action series.

-if you didn’t notice she’s rlly into pop culture.

-her and Sally remain best friends Bc Lazari is the only one who gets that Sally isn’t actually 8 years old despite her looking that way.

-I’m ngl her assignments from zalgo are mostly women.

-she is a very sassy young lady. Like she says some of the most out of pocket shit and it’s so funny. The pastas have witness Lazari telling Zalgo off and it’s so silly.

Jason The Toymaker

Age: unknown

Wine problems: the last person he killed is being a nuisance and wreaking havoc in his office. Also got his spell book destroyed, so Slender ordered another one for him.

Head-cannons

-he takes hella fashion inspo from the labyrinth.

-he REFUSES to smell bad or to live bad. Like he likes his stuff at the highest quality. It’s kind of silly.

-all of his clothes is made from spider silk.

-he watches a lot of plays and musicals, genuinely loves orchestras and stuff like that.

-his nails are super sharp and he kinda hates it Bc he can’t do anything with his hands and Jeff edited him to have pink nails saying Periodt 😭 and it became a huge meme in the groupchat.

-tbh he’s kind of an oracle, like he can tell what someone’s future is going to be like. He doesn’t do it on purpose but he’s somehow always right.

-this comes in tie with his assignments. He mostly deletes preteens and teens Bc he can see their future. He’s necessary for deleting future aggressors. He deletes more than his assignments tho.

-sometimes he gets emotional when watching Disney movies Bc he thinks of found family as the creepypastas.

-ice age makes him sob so hard. Don’t tell anyone tho, he’s embarrassed.

Zero

Age: 25

Wine problems: her scarf got stolen and her cat, Maple is hiding behind the TV Ben was previously trapped in.

Head-cannons

-she is very out of the loop. Slenderman had to seriously correct her spirit once she joined. She was way too much for him and the Pastas to handle. Now it’s like a venom situation where Alice and Zero take turns with Alice’s body.

-she has a very distinct style.

-for awhile her and LJ were kind of into each other, but she got the ick once and never looked back.

-she has very random violent outbursts that are hard to deal with. Slender has a detector on her to keep an eye. She’s probably the most defiant creepypasta.

-Jeff and her hooked up once and were in a very toxic relationship that lasted 2 months. Now they ignore each other and act like they don’t exist.

-she is highly into herself. Totally has a smexy twitter account.

-for as long as she’s been with the pastas, she has grown to care for them, though she doesn’t really show that at all. She doesn’t take it personally or care how they feel about that.

Homicidal Liu

Age: 24

Wine problems: accidentally got caught up in teenage drama while bird watching at the nearest park. He’s trying to find a way to back away from the group of teens without drawling their attention. It isn’t working.

Head-cannons

-he doesn’t remember Jeff or his family.

-if you give him orange chicken he’s gonna flip a chair and rip open his shirt.

-he’s able to stomach anything but he will totally critique your food, he does not care.

-his voice is really quiet and sultry.

-he doesn’t really understand or comprehend the spirituality involving Slenderman and other pastas, but he’s put off by it.

-*NSYNC fanboy.

-his favorite movie is probably house of 1000 corpses.

-his scarf was a birthday gift from Jeff from way back when.

-Liu only kills his assignments and no one else. He doesn’t really think about what he does, like he’s confused and very out of it. Though he gets along nicely with the other pastas, he’s respected by everyone there.

-Liu genuinely eats so much food but he doesn’t mean to. Like he loves eating. He’s definitely the kitchen cutie.

-he gets carsick hella bad.

Nina the Killer

Age: 20

Wine problems: couldn’t find her stockings and slender logged her out of the hulu account as punishment for throwing a meatball at the wall during dinner yesterday.

Head-cannons

-bisexual

-her favorite movie is definitely corpse bride, she is Emily, Emily is her.

-honestly she’s kind of a popular loner in the mansion. Like she’s friends with everyone, but she spends time alone a lot.

-definitely class clown material tho.

-she doesn’t crush on Jeff anymore 😭 she’s still demented like that tho.

-one of the only other pastas that kill outside of her assignments from slender. She kills whoever slender and Sally tell her too, but after that she grows obsessive over kind strangers and ends up killing some of them too Bc she can’t handle it.

-she isn’t allowed out often, most of her assignments are required at night to lessen her obsessiveness.

-she doesn’t really obsess over the pastas in the mansion since she’s already used to them. Jeff got lucky with her Bc once he started reciprocating feelings she lost interest 😭

-if she really wanted to, she could literally do anything within 10 minutes. Like she is FAST and hella energetic and such a diva.

CandyPop

Age: unknown

Wine Problems: keeps getting his antiques stolen by Puppeteer. Killed someone with asthma and they hit their inhaler just to blow the smoke out in his face. Mf was flabbergasted.

Head-cannon

-no one knows how he came to be, not even slender 😭 Candypop himself doesn’t even know.

-overtime his purple and blue colors started switching up.

-he says he’s exactly like Ramona flowers. Scott pilgrim vs the world is his favorite movie. Ramona is his favorite character.

-he’s a straight up asshole in a Sheldon Cooper type of way.

-everytime he’s drunk, everyone leaves the house Bc of how annoying and clingy he is.

-DO NOT tell this man your secrets. Everyone will know right as soon as you say “don’t tell anyone I did this, but…”

-he cannot drive, do not trust him in the drivers or passengers seat. Somehow he will fuck it up.

-he’s BESTIES with Clockwork.

-one time he dyed his hair green and it actually looked so terrible on him but EVERYONE was hyping him up, it was so bad.

-he loves going to Denny’s at nighttime Bc he feels special for how he looks. Or Walmart. He LOVES Walmart.

Kate the chaser

Age: 26

Wine Problem: currently trying to calm the chaos before Slender and Toby get home. Also accidentally ate a special brownie while on her antidepressants after downing 3 shots of vodka (don’t do this yall). Straight up tripping balls rn.

Head-cannon

-Fiona Gallagher coded.

-dresses up as a pirate every Halloween and she’s definitely the one who makes all the Christmas cookies.

-she always decorates the house for holidays.

-since she’s Jewish, she also has a Hanukkah setup too for the other Jewish ppl there.

-definitely vegetarian.

-probably the most fit and strong pasta next to Jeff and the supernatural ones (E: LJ, EJ, Candypop, Jason)

-she’s one of the originals.

-she had a short fling with Laughing Jill. They’re like an on and off power couple tbh.

-she bought a vibrator off of wish one time and Jeff opened her package Bc he thought it had his name on it. (Jeff had an odd bruise on his nose afterwards)

-she cuts her own hair and as a joke puts it on Ben’s pillow so that he’ll think someone dyed his hair. Cracks her up everytime istg.

-she drinks coffee like it’s nobodies BUSINESS.

Eyeless Jack

Age: 25

Wine problem: Has to help Ben torture Jeff. Also got lost in the woods for two hours looking for his next target, Toby found him and picked him up once he got back from the grocery store.

Head-cannon

-is normally the last person to find out drama or news.

-has almost walked in on so many creepypastas in the bathroom. The only reason he stops is because he can see the heat light.

-sometimes can’t tell if he’s just hallucinating Bc of how his vision works.

-if you take a picture with flash, his eyes will glow like a cats.

-buys clothes in incorrect sizes all the time. Toby has to go pants shopping for him often.

-the only time he can see normally is with his human disguise on.

-he’s definitely Greek, like his mom was definitely from Greece and his dad American. He can speak Greek and Spanish Bc of highschool. English is his second language.

-he used to get made fun of for the black tar on his mask looking like tears until Ben came along and they started the tear alliance. (They’d defend each other whenever one got teased)

-I feel like whenever he’s hungry he gets increasingly more deranged. So sometimes if he’s too depressed to get his own kidneys, someone else will have to get some for him ASAP.

386 notes · View notes

starshipsofstarlord · 3 months

Text

Cuddle Bunny

summary - all you can do is reflect on the past as you sit by a tired and bedridden daryl, hellbent on not leaving his side. It seems he doesn’t want you to leave either, as you are the only person that sees him for who he is, in every light (1.3k)

warnings - daryl getting shot, mentions of violence, parental abuse (mental and physical) and death, slight angst, fluff, cuddly daryl, sophia being missing

daryl dixon + norman reedus works main masterlist

You had never experienced the fear that was currently combusting your entire being - Andrea had shot Daryl in the head. Sure, it was ‘just a scrape’, however you were furious, and ovulating a circus of panic within your veins.

Hershel was allowing the archer to rest, insisting that it was necessary in order to regain his strength, despite the veterinarian being displeased with him borrowing one of his horses without permission.

And you sat beside him, watching over him on a chair that you had pulled from the corner of the room. He seemed exhausted, and with a shaky hand, you reached across his forehead and brushed his hair out of his face.

He was beautiful, and you wished that he would acknowledge it more, rather than feeling insecure within the ranks of your group, always being made to feel by the others that he wasn’t good enough - that he was just like his brother.

To them, as his frugal search for the lost little girl had made such as Shane think further, he was a tragic liability, that was reckless, risking their uphold of temporary residency on the farmland. But he was the only one willing to venture out into the wild where the dead walked to find Sophia, having to believe deep down that despite being out there by her lonesome that she had to be alive.

Daryl had made it his mission, using himself as a pawn in the process, taking an arrow in the side and a bullet across the outside layering of skin at his temple all to strive on, and undermine the cruel evil that the world had evolved into.

You envied his loyal pursuit, neither of you owed these people anything, but nevertheless he found a role in which he could be responsible for, other than being the hand that kept them fed. The two of you were more like outsiders to the tight knit group, they all had varying opinions of you both, assuming the events in your pasts considering your closeness with Merle prior to him disappearing from the rooftop, abandoning his right hand on his untimely escape.

They knew nothing of importance when it concerned you and Daryl, you weren’t the proudest when it came to your past, but you weren’t ashamed either. There was nothing that they could perceive that was undoubtedly true, you remembered everything, both the good and bad that you had gone through before the world had gone to shit.

But none of it was as terrifying as seeing Daryl bedridden with stitches in his head, whilst you were trapped in a reality where everything wanted to kill you. If you could go back and just live in the memories that you had with him, you would, without a second thought. You and he were far away from any threats that would separate you in life, concocted in a mundane and happily bland routine.

You had a little house, on the outskirts of a rocky and small town in Georgia, and it wasn’t perfect but it was the roof that you and Daryl called your home. And all you needed to get by was each other, and whilst thing seemed perfect you still hadn’t got by without judgement. Merle and Daryl’s father was an obsolete rival to your relationship, he resented that his son had found happiness, brewing with cryptic resentment at the fact he had no physical control over his life.

But the mental aspect still remained, he was scorned within his brain from the impact that William Dixon had plagued into every scar that he invisibly wore, and you could see it on his face within the very moment he winced as he readjusted his head against the pillow beneath. Pain, it ran through his nerves, decaying him as though it was just another walker that Andrea had unloaded her misaimed shell towards.

She deserved your rationalised anger imploded upon her, and she’d be a sitting duck for the meanwhile, Daryl’s health was far more important than your yet to be unleashed rage. If you allowed all hell to be let loose, then you would never stop seeing the vivid colour of red, and there was no time to waste on yet to be salvaged conflict just yet, she could wait for the vengeance that she had earned to suffer from. Tending to the emotional instability that Daryl was floundering in was upmost priority, and that was one thing that hadn’t changed from before the constantly spreading apocalypse.

“Why ya starin’ at me, it’s gettin’ creepy?” His gravelly, smoke worn voice enquired, his eyes fluttered drowsily in your direction, the tight corners of his mouth uplifting at the sight of you. You felt exhausted as well, overwhelmed with emotions of despair and from the lack of much needed sleep due to your addictive worry.

“You say somethin’ similar every time you wake up.” You glowed as you spoke to the man that you loved, the raging sun illuminating your silhouette through the drawn curtains, brightening the focus in which Daryl had of you. Reaching across, you braced your adoring palm against the cusp of his cheek, brushing your thumb across his supple skin, relishing in the very touch of his flesh. Something so simple felt so intimate with him, everything did. After existing in a life felt as though it had no meaning, Daryl was the only constant, and the purpose for which you remained. And nothing had changed, and you knew that it wouldn’t for as long as you lived.

“Usually yer in the sleeping’ bag next ter me, a bed ain’t gonna make a difference.” He quirked his brow, wincing and allowing himself to be vulnerable as it stretched the tautness of his wound. His face creased in momentary pain, and you felt unbelievably lucky that the bullet wasn’t a millimetre to the right, as there was a chance that he wouldn’t be here, attempting to seduce you in an innocent and lustre fashion.

“Is that you inviting me to lay beside you Mr Dixon?” You corresponded with his portrayal of your early routine, unable to remember a morning to which he wasn’t a part of. He was a staple, a permanency that rendered you into a bathing of peace, and you both felt desired when sharing any type of company. Daryl meaninglessly rolled his oceanic eyes, tugging at your hand that was upon him to pull you closer, and beside him.

And his efforts became successful as you needed no convincing, and you rested atop of the mattress that was indeed much more comfortable than the makeshift bed, however your head in fact ended up laying on his chest, listening to his calm and steady heartbeat. “This is better than the meds the farmer gave me.” His words enforced you to laugh into his chest, addicted to the cheesy platter of jokes that he would share with you, and you alone.

Nobody saw this side of him, he was himself. And the world had turned into a massacring mess, the brutality shattering every ounce of soul that a person had. But you and Daryl never changed, you were adjoined to surviving the trauma that had tainted you both from birth, and nothing would change with the infected having the thirst to rip you apart.

“Well,” you dragged your word out, looking up at his face which was filled with adoration and surprisingly comfortability, “at least there’s no limit on the dosage you can take.” You leaned up, pressing your lips that had become chapped from the staring hue in the sky that was beating down on you in the passing daytimes upon his own. His arms tugged around the circumference of your waist, pulling you closer, him having the intention of using his time to rest to lay with you within his very grip.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fluff #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus imagine

235 notes · View notes

emmitaaa4 · 2 months

Text

“Elriel is too predictable! It’s boring & lazy writing!”

… 🧍‍♂️

My brother in Christ. You call SJM the fated mates author. Through 15+ books and 3 series she hasn’t diverged from that trope. Elain has a “mate”.

If an Elriel outcome is predictable, it’s because the author willed it so and therefore ✨wrote scenes✨ to ✨develop their relationship✨.

and by that i mean…

(long post ahead…. bear with me)

SJM wrote Mr. “I don’t need to resort to poetry” going all Azriel Allan Poe, flustered as he tells Elain “we are born hearing the song of the wind”. She wrote him uncharacteristically open & talkative, while when he 1st met Feyre he deferred all her questions to others.

SJM wrote that despite how different they may look, Elain does not balk from Az. She never has: from their 1st meeting she finds comfort in him, and he in turn notices her—she’s never been afraid of him, he has always seen her.

SJM wrote the 1st coherent thing to come out of Elain’s mouth in WaR to be “beautiful” as she beholds Azriel’s scarred hands. In turn, she wrote our gardener not minding imperfections on hers, for despite her lady-like conditioning, she prefers to get her hands dirty.

SJM wrote Az spending time with her in the sunshine: no forced conversation, no one hEaLinG anyone, just them both doing their own thing as a relaxed Az suns his wings. Just two pals comfortable with one another… which SJM foreshadowed in MaF through Feyre’s “Elain would likely cling to Az for some peace and quiet”.

SJM wrote Az and Cass both stilling at the sight of El & Nes, she wrote Az cutting in to set Elain up in her garden even as Feyre was about to do it, she wrote the mention that Elain was safe after the twin raven’s attack bc Az had stayed with her at the townhouse.

SJM wrote Azriel’s eyes churning as he looks at Elain and her too-thin body, before abruptly winnowing away, and we’re left with Mor looking at the spot where he left. Wonder what that was about (it certainly did not remind me of Rhys in TaR).

You know, Elriels are not just making stuff up and theorizing about the E/ucien bond cause we’re desperately pulling at straws…

SJM had Madja say “a mate would know if something is amiss”, then wrote a scene juxtaposing both Lucien’s and Azriel’s reactions/assessments of what was going on with Elain… and she had Azriel be the one to know nothing was “wrong” with her—no, she just had rare powers and needed to be heard, to be taken seriously. He didn't let her be misunderstood, for he was the ONLY one that listened to her, that took her visions/ramblings seriously right from the get go. And so he gave Elain the understanding she needed to free herself from the dream-like murky realm she was trapped in. Through it all, SJM emphasizes that Azriel also understands what it is like to struggle with rare, strange, prized powers in silence; what it’s like to be othered by them. I’ve said it before and i’ll say it again: she sees everything and he hears everything.

SJM wrote that “Elain had hoped that love would trump even a mating bond” and had her characters question the Cauldron in relation to Elucien *twice* (years apart!).

…

SJM wrote Az being the only one—in a room full of Made beings speaking of being Made—to notice that Elain was missing. A reassuring but empty statement by Cass that they’d get her back….but then it was Azriel that stated, eyes glowing golden, that HE would be getting her back, despite the girl’s own sister discouraging him & telling him he’d die. Hell, Feyre had this whole deliberation on whether she’d join him only after he’d say he’d go. His initiative.

The Hybern scene is too long to add, but this post and this theory break it all down brilliantly.

Yes, Az has sacrificial tendencies. Yes, he’d risk his life for loved ones in general. But we have never seen him this affected, and it is because SJM purposely used language to emphasize Elain and Azriel’s meaningful reactions to the other… despite it being wholly “unnecessary”

It is all intentional… lazy’s antonym.

SJM wrote the Truthteller scene. She emphasized the exchange, which left Cassian gasping and Rhys flabbergasted; it also left Feyre with a significant painting in her mind. It lead to Elain, aka “my God has answered me,” stepping out of a shadow to save her sister. Azriel, aka “God is my help”, indeed helped armed Elain so she could answer her sisters prayers.

SJM ended WaR with Elain’s smile literally lighting up Az’s shadows.

SJM had Elain’s thoughtful gift to him make his eyes the brightest we’ve seen—and by doing so gave us the most beautiful description of his earthy eyes, “the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald.” We have never seen Az so joyful & carefree throughout the entire series.

SJM wrote that Azriel beat Feyre to Elain’s side as she was looking out into the night. She wrote Elain stilling at the sight of a dashing Azriel—her throat bobbing—while Az “just moved towards her”.

SJM wrote the potato scene—“sit i’ll take care of it”—Azriel again being the one to respect Elain’s presence & contribution as he makes a room full of his “superiors” wait until Elain finishes tidying herself up (cause girlie wanted to look put together for a certain shadowsinger). Mor gapes, Amren smirks, Rhys talks of Az’s mom… all because of that surprising, singular behaviour from him.

SJM wrote Az making a joke at Amren’s expense upon noticing Elain’s discomfort; our girl’s shoulders indeed relax in relief. THE LIGHT RETURNS IN HER EYES.

SJM has Azriel staying up past 3am with Elain, listening to her speak of something she is passionate of.

SJM wrote Azriel spending an entire convo with his brothers looking out into the garden from the window (SJM mentioned it 4 times yet some still missed it).

SJM wrote Rhys goading Az for a reaction as he quizzes him on Lucien and Grayson; wrote Rhys realizing that Azriel did not want to know what Elain did with Lucien (in the case she did anything). She wrote Azriel nervously stuttering as he asks risks if they need to get the sisters a present… I wonder why.

And Rosehall… SJM wrote ROSEhall: cracktheory this cracktheory that, to the gwonriels I’d say we both know you wouldn’t say it’s irrelevant had SJM chosen to call his estate Tealhall.

~~~~

Keep in mind: SJM could have written those significant scenes and ultimately kept it PG: she could have chosen language that built up a profound platonic relationship.

Yet… in MaF she has Feyre comment that they would be good together—as in make a good *couple*. WaR roles in and they’re both dealing with the very public rejections they went through—but SJM had them build a quiet companionship in the background, while giving them a wealth of scenes of great significance for both their characters, and while using language like “she DEVOURED the sight of him” “he CRADLED her to his chest”. In FaS they are slowly but surely getting over their last loves, and SJM continues developing their connection.

And in ACOSF, in the book that supposedly “ended” Elriel…

SJM wrote Az following the sound of her laugh (😭). “ It’s just lust” PLEASE BFFR.

SJM chose to remind us—THREE times—of the Hybern rescue scene... then had Az tell Cass that he’d know, in his chest, if something happened to Nesta.

SJM had Az longingly stare at the gift Elain gave him every night for a YEAR—mind plagued by thoughts of her—made him so affected by her that he had reactions to every mention of her name in SF, so affected that it took Nes one look at them to notice his feelings, to reach out in comfort upon noticing the pain that keeping himself apart from to her caused him. As SJM said she would, Nes saw through his secret in ACOSF, still it is “his secret to tell, never hers”. After Solstice we are met with a grumpy Azriel, who lost the snowball fight for the 1st time in centuries (i wonder why…).

SJM chose to link his every secret back to his feelings for Elain, as per the bonus . Why does he stay up so late and wake up so early? He longs for Elain so much he can’t sleep. Why is he staying in the HoW? It is too hard to be close to Elain given their circumstances; he must physically distance himself from her. Why has he moved on from Mor after centuries? Elain. Why is he grumpy post Solstice? The argument with Rhys concerning Elain.

~~~~

Ultimately, SJM wrote for Elriel:

- Complementary imagery (flowers and death? light and dark blending together to form something new… DUSK, anyone?)

- AND plot altering scenes

- AND chose to liken them to one another multiple times

- AND genuine moments of companionship that slowly bloomed into something more…

… Is it so insane to believe that maybe SJM spent so much page time and effort building connections & common ground between them because she intends for elain & az to find peace and quiet within one another?

Or idk, maybe it was all for shits and giggles… and if it was i salute her commitment to the shits and the giggles🫡

Either way, it is the opposite of lazy writing…

It’s SJM’s world & words, and we are just reading them.

P.S: This was all just typed on my cell phone from the top of my head… yes remembering all this is probs concerning, yes I am obsessed. Please correct me if I got anything wrong.

#elain archeron #azriel #elriel #pro elriel #azriel shadowsinger #pro elain #pro azriel #acomaf #acowar #acosf #elain x azriel #elucien-bond #antigwynriel #not even anti; just pro common sense

213 notes · View notes

cannibaled · 1 month

Text

situations

wanted to challenge myself, since i'm used to only writing for ocs. i thought it'd be fun doing something different with a preexisting character and self insert :3 —

☆ warnings: none, slight nsfw. mostly in language.

☆ premise: possessive felix, farleigh being farleigh

it was difficult being felix catton's best friend. much less, his younger best friend.. which, happened to only be by a year, by the way.

despite this fact, he treated you like a child. as if he was an overprotective college brother, holding control over his high-school sister. except, you both attended college. the. same. one. you were schoolmates, for gods sake.

there was a set of unspoken rules felix expected you to follow. with you both attending oxford, it only made it that much easier for him to watch you.

you could be friends with his friends, but not too close with the guys. you couldn't hook up at parties if he was there. he would make a scene, and bust the poor guys ass. it was aggravating. you were grown, desperate to explore college hookup culture with an itch that needed scratching, and despite how annoying he was, he was sweet. you couldn't just snap at him. just imagining him looking like a kicked puppy enough to scar you for years. and, he did he mean well, really. his execution just sucked.

you took a drag from the joint that hung lazily between your fingers, inhaling the smoke that escaped from your lips. loud music, muffled due to the barrier of doors separating you from the party inside, caused the large house to vibrate. it was late, and the summer air had cooled into a refreshing breeze. something you needed desperately, having felt suffocated from the hot, sweaty bodies that trapped you in.

the door opened and closed, slamming shut with forcefulness that demanded attention. you turned, looking up curiously at the person who interrupted your pity party. there farleigh start stood, in all his 6'5 glory. he quirked a thick eyebrow at you and took a seat next to you on the step, leaning back with a sort of lazy confidence that caused your lips to twitch.

"well, look who it is," the boy drawled sarcastically. "little (L/N)."

"shutup," you groaned, giving him a glare when he plucked the joint from your fingers.

he took a drag himself, playfully blowing the smoke in your face. it was always difficult, with farleigh. you never really knew if he was playing around, teasing, or genuinely being mean-spirited sometimes.

"i'm finding it difficult to understand why the hell you're out there, when the party is in there."

you didn't respond, still pouting over the joint. his lips quirked into an amused grin, and he held it back out to you.

"what? will felix crucify you for joking back or something?"

"ha ha ha." you responded dryly, snatching the joint back. you took one last drag before putting it out, slipping it back in the little case you carried around. "i'm just having a bad night, and i'm not in the mood for your bullying."

"what's up?" he was still leaning back on his elbows, but when you looked at him - really looked at him, you could see a twinkle of concern in his pretty brown eyes. you swallowed, feeling annoyed. pulling your knees towards your chest, you rested your elbow upon them and your head in a hand. "it's embarrassing."

"oh, come on. i'm not going to make it a big deal." you shot him a suspicious look, and farleigh held his hands up in surrender.

"just..it's annoying. not being able to date, and stuff. felix is really overprotective, and it's annoying. and of course, everyone listens to the tall golden boy."

"i see," farleigh tsked. "so, you need to fuck, but felix is preventing that."

you turned your body so you could smack at him, causing him to laugh and grab your wrists. "way to be blunt, dude," you hissed, cheeks red with embarrassment.

"c'mon, it's nothing to be shy about. sex is perfectly natural." your eyes flickered down to his large hands, which swallowed up your wrists. you took a shaky deep breath, but made no move to pull away.

"why am i even having this conversation with y-"

"i can help."

you blinked. "huh?"

"i said, i can help. i'll fuck you. luckily for you, i happen to be the only guy in this preppy ass school who isn't afraid of felix."

you stared at him in surprise, and he simply raised his eyebrows at you, an amused smirk on his lips. "well? you can say no."

"..fine."

you remembered every detail from that night. from the way you felt eyes burning into your back as you and farleigh kissed hungrily, almost devouring each other. from the way the feeling of being watched intensified as you and him left to his room - or, more so, how he dragged you along, and you struggled to keep up. everything was clear in your mind from the moment your lips locked once more in the privacy of his room, the way his hands eagerly but gently undressed you, to after, when you tell asleep on his chest.

that's why, it was difficult for you to understand why he was denying anything had happened. you remembered him saying he wasn't afraid of felix, so, why?

you had woke to pure chaos, alone in farleigh's bed. you rushed to your room to get dressed before heading downstairs, tired eyes falling onto a pissed off felix, and annoyed farleigh. oliver sat quietly, his icy eyes observing the two quietly.

"what the fuck is going on?" you huffed out, almost jumping when felix turned to face you.

"did you and farleigh fuck?"

"w-what? excuse me?"

"oliver said you did. he saw you two leaving together and making out."

you stared in disbelief.

"yes." you said finally, crossing your arms over your chest.

"oliver is a lying, delusional little bastard." farleigh spat, and you shot him a hurt glare.

"yeah, i find it hard to believe you can't keep it in your pants, far," felix shot back, sarcastically.

"i wouldn't fuck her if we were the last two people on earth, felix."

that did it. your face stung with anger, hot and red, your eyes burning with tears. the room was quiet and still, and the irritated furrow in farleigh's brows dropped. he knew he went too far.

"you know what - this is bullshit. im a grown ass woman. so, believe what you want, but i can have sex with whoever the hell i want. you don't own me, and you can't protect me forever."

jaw clenched, you turned on your heel and stormed upstairs, slamming your room door. the old estate shook, but all you could do was throw yourself in bed, and scream into your pillow.

you stayed holed up in your room all day. meals were brought to you, courtesy of duncan and you guessed, venetia, who felt bad and requested it. you only opened your curtains to smoke by the window, attempting to avoid the three as much as possible. you knew you wouldn't be able to stay in there forever, but you needed to calm down. to breathe. you didn't go out to seek them, and they left you alone as well.

it was late when you heard a knock on your room door, and you peeked over the pillow that you buried your face in. you were restless, eyes swollen from crying. how ironic was it that you visited saltburn to celebrate another successful year, to get away from the stress of school, and let go; but, yet, you were more stressed than the exams and studying could have possibly made you.

you didn't answer to whoever was at the door, instead turning away. regardless, whoever it was decided to let themselves in, and you sat up angrily, eyes locking with farleigh's.

"what do you want?"

"i was worried about you."

"great. you see that i'm very much alive, so... bye."

his eyebrows twitched with annoyance, but, surprisingly, he didn't make a snide mark in return. he took a seat next to you, his large body taking up most of the space in your little bed. you scooted away, as if you had been burned, curling into yourself and leaning against the headboard. neither of you said anything. you stared, and he fidgeted with the bracelet that hung loosely on his wrist.

"i thought you weren't afraid of felix." you spoke, your voice cold. he looked up, peeking over at you from beneath his lashes. you suddenly felt angry again. why did he have to be so pretty? and why did he have to look so.. vulnerable?

"i'm not afraid of him. but i'm afraid of losing him." you said nothing. you supposed that was fair.

"but," he continued, his deep voice raspy from yelling earlier. "i should've stood up to him. lets face it, you're an adult. i am, too. plus, oliver is a nosy little shitstarter." you hid your amused smile in your knees.

"you know, i wasn't even all that angry with you. i was hurt. felix and oliver? i was pissed. but, it's just, like.." you took a deep breath when farleigh looked at you, and outstretched your legs.

your hands shook ever so slightly, but you rested them under the backs of your knees. "i really like you. you're always so catty, and sometimes really mean. but i still like you and i don't know why. i mean, i know why," you scratched your cheek awkwardly, your face burning. you avoided looking at him. "i was really happy when you made a move on me last night. but i don't know, when you said what you did today, i felt scared that you just wanted that to be a one time thing."

"baby, i purposely went looking for you," he responded, just as blunt as ever. but, he was gentle. soft. he gingerly gripped your ankles and pulled you closer to him until your butt was flush against his thigh, and propped your legs over his lap. his large hands rested on your legs, rubbing circles into your skin. "it's hard for me to commit, and shit. you've known me for a while, so you know that." you simply hummed. "but, i want to apologize for being a major dick, and make it up to you."

you felt dizzy. sick, almost. resting your head on his broad shoulder, you peered up at him, taking in his pretty features. how annoyingly clear and smooth his skin was, how his lips were naturally pouty.

"and how do you intend to do that?"

"fuck, i'm not a date person, but-" you gave him a look. he swallowed, and gave you a lopsided grin in return. "butttt, i would like to take you out. okay?"

"i thought you were supposed to be making it up to me."

"yeah?"

you looked at him expectantly, and his head fell back into the wall behind him. groaning softly, he closed his eyes, his smile widening. "god, okay. please?"

"please what?"

"please, go out with me."

you hummed, pretending to think, and plucked faux lint from his shirt. he narrowed his eyes at you, squeezing your calves roughly. "c'mon."

"okay, okay. i guess i could, since i'm free and all."

"you'd be free, anyway. i'd have you make time for me."

with a toothy grin, you scooted closer and closer until you could throw yourself over your lap, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. his hands found their rightful place on your hips, before slipping down to grip your ass.

"farleigh start, you are spoiled."

#saltburn #farleigh start #farleigh x reader #farleigh start x reader #felix catton #oliver quick #jacob elordi #barry keoghan #farleigh #oliver #felix #venetia catton

175 notes · View notes

fox-guardian · 7 months

Note

Asking about the stoker swap au, are we likely to see the whole America Thing? If not, will Trevor&Julia and/or Gerry be showing up at some point? Or is it going to be more like canon only this time Danny's there?

i haven't gotten that far in my planning but it'll probably go down smth like this

[ID: Several images making up a digital comic of Jon and Danny drawn on a brown background. Jon is a short, thin Arab man with dark curly hair pulled into a loose bun, with a mustache and beard. He is wearing half-moon glasses, black stud earrings, a t-shirt, shorts, socks and sneakers, and a sweater hanging off one shoulder. His right hand and the front of his neck are bandaged. Danny is a tall, beefy Latino man with short hair and a cut in his brow and he is wearing small hoop earrings, a button-down with the sleeves rolled up, a sweater-vest, trousers and dress shoes. Both Jon and Danny are riddled with circular scars. Jon is colored purple, and Danny is yellow.

Jon is walking while looking through papers as Danny leans in behind him, grinning.

Danny: (all caps) Heeeey Jon~! Jon: Hello, Danny Danny: Heard you're going to the U.S. Jon: That is correct Danny: And I'M coming with you~ Jon: You CANNOT come with me, Danny. It could be very dangerous and I don't want you to get hurt. (smaller text) or for your brother to kill me (normal text) And besides, the plane tickets and lodging have been booked already Danny, holding up a finger: Firstly, going with a buddy is much safer, and I don't want YOU to get hurt (smaller text) you've been kidnapped twice already Jon, glaring: mmgh Danny: (normal text) And secondly.... (Danny grins) hee hee Jon, anxious: Wh- Danny what have you done? Danny, close up and drawn with more detail and a shadow over his eyes: HEE HEE Jon, offscreen, fearful: DANNY

They are now drawn in less detail and merely headshots.

Danny, holding a hand to his chin, smug: I got my own tickets. And lodging. With you. Sasha helped me find the plane you'd be on and which hotel, so we can stay together for the WHOLE TRIP Jon, one tear falling from his eye, accepting death: (small text) even if I get back in one piece Tim is still going to murder me

end ID]

~~~~

so yeah it'll be Roughly just the same as canon only danny is also there. i want there to be Some difference but idk what it'd be. maybe danny will get jon to burn the whole book of the trapped dead to free everyone in there and then that'll be a whole thing but idk

(also i KNOW that's not how jon's lil world tour happened in canon but idc funny sillies etc)

#fg's art #the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #danny stoker #stoker swap au #fg's answers #asks #not me forgetting danny's brow cut in the Only Other Panel It'd Be Visible In #i definitely didn't Need to do a comic to answer this. but my god did i want to #i missed drawing them <3 #i know i said i was gonna post this either yesterday or Next Week but im impatient and i need everyone to look at them

332 notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 4 months

Note

Hiiiiii I saw that you might be interested in making pjo content again if you are, can we please get something like Percy being a good big brother? Like just a lot of fluff. Have a good night/day

Ps you don’t have to if you don’t want you you can just ignore this ask lol

Percy is the best brother anyone could ask for but Christ was he extremely overprotective of you; More so if you were to ever get hurt, accident or otherwise.

And if he were to ever found whoever hurt you well…Percy is all about getting his own back…tenfold.

For no one would be smart enough think that they could ever get away with hurting his family, not while he was still breathing.

At the end of the day Percy was your brother and if you were to be developing your first crush on someone, he’s going to have a few choice words…

‘Why did I have to hear that you were found down by the lake with Luke Castellan of all people from the Aphrodite cabin. It’s all they could seem to talk about.’ Percy said as he walked into your shared cabin.

‘Why were you at the Aphrodite cabin in the first place?’ You asked from your bed, brows raised.

‘Why were you at the lake with Luke of all people?‘ Percy replied. You groaned, already done with the conversation before it even began. ‘Why do you care for who I develop feelings for anyway? I wasn’t like this when you started realising you had feelings for Annabeth.’

‘I just wanted to know when did my sibling started developing such a rubbish taste in crushes.’ Percy shrugged, dodging the pillow you threw at him for that comment with ease. ‘Luke isn’t rubbish!’ You mocked, making sure to use quotation makes on the word rubbish. ‘He’s sweet, he’s charming, he’s cute- I mean have you seen his dimples?!’ You listed off.

‘Please,’ Percy drawled, unamused before adding. ‘he’s a guy! They’ll use their best attributes to lure you in before showing you their true colours the moment they know they’ve got you hooked into their trap.’ He then plops himself beside you on your bed to look at you sincerely. ‘I just don’t want you getting hurt.’

You smiled softly at that. While Percy maybe a twat sometimes and the way he looks out for your best interest can often times be annoying but he’s your annoying, sassy, overprotective brother and you couldn’t be prouder to call him as such. ‘You never want me getting hurt anyway,’ you began. ‘but there will come a time where you won’t be there to prevent me from being hurt and that’s okay.’ You watched as Percy gone silent and his face becomes clouded with distraught and unease before reaching over and placed a hand over his shoulder in reassurance.

‘I still don’t like the idea of you getting hurt and I’m not there for you.’ Percy murmured as he looked over at you. ‘It’s my job as your big brother to protect you, if I don’t then what does that make me other than a failure.’ Your heart broke for him, truly it did because you knew that if you were ever in trouble, Percy always came running with riptide and a look that could kill. He had done so on multiple occasions and even had the scars to prove it that whenever you look at them you can’t help but be reminded of how much and how willing he was to sacrifice for you, it was downright frightening at times.

However there were times where he was too late to prevent you from getting scars of your own, scars that you would rub subconsciously when a particular memory resurfaced, causing them to burn almost with the pain you experienced during that moment…

‘You’re not a failure Percy.’ You began. ‘You’re my brother, the one person I look up to the most, my inspiration of the kind of person I hope to be one day. You took me in instantly after I was claimed and whsilt you maybe a dick at times but there’s no one else I’d proudly call my brother.’ You finished before ruffling his hair. ‘Now stop looking so sad, fish breath. It’s weird not hearing you talk about how you’re going to drown Luke if he were to get within radius of me.’

Percy playfully shoved you, smirking. ‘People don’t plan their murders aloud, shrimpy but I will fucking drown him if he pulls something I don’t like. Nobody gets to mess with my sibling but me.’

‘Oh joy.’ You said sarcastically but the smile on your face told otherwise.

#pjo x reader #pjo imagines #pjo imagine #pjo fanfic #pjo series #pjo tv show #percy jackon and the olympians #Percy Jackson #percy jackson imagines #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson x reader

164 notes · View notes

the-californicationist · 5 months

Text

The Fourth of July

Another gift fic for another awesome friend of mine! Stockings are getting stuffed left and right this year. <3 <3

Alex/FReader - foreign reader, blowjob/Facefuck, spit kink, soft!Alex

You are celebrating your first July 4th with Alex and his friends at your brother's lake house. Seeing the booming fireworks, eating hotdogs, and drinking out of those red solo cups - just like the movies - has been so much fun. But, you and Alex get a little carried away in the pool house.

MDNI/18+

AO3 Link

When he picked you up for the party, Alex looked like he was Mr. USA. His fluorescent blue swim trunks were short, the hem sitting high on his huge, muscular thighs, showing off his carbon fiber leg. The arms of his old Army tee shirt were sliced open, giving you a view of his endless, tanned skin. His ribs and abs rippled beneath the surface as he parked the Silverado in the road and hopped out of it to greet you.

You’d never wanted to run your hands through a shock of hair so badly in your life, buried under a bright red trucker cap with the bill turned backwards. He was smacking his gum loudly, and he was already sunburnt across his nose.

“Hey, there. You ready for some freedom?”

You smiled, enjoying his American accent,

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I think.”

“C’mon. Your brother’s waitin’ for us at the house. Got about fifty pounds of barbeque workin’ on the pit, I’ll bet.”

He grabbed your bag and threw it into the back of his truck before grabbing your arm and helping you into the lifted cab of the vehicle. Your swimsuit coverup billowed in the wind, and he gently gathered it up for you, moving it away so it wouldn’t get caught in the heavy door.

Alex pulled himself into the driver’s seat, flexing his tattooed forearms as he settled into position, gripping the wheel tightly. As you looked closer, you started to notice little scars, nothing major. But, you were always quick to forget what his day job was: CIA war machine. He threw on a pair of hot-pink sunglasses with a floater neck strap attached, and handed you his spare pair. You slipped them on, feeling much cooler than you thought you should. As you pulled onto the road, he cranked up the music until you couldn’t even hear yourself think.

You took the opportunity of being bathed in sound to study him from across the center console of the truck. The landscape of America - strip centers and wooded fields - rushed by you unadmired, and you were trapped by him. You thought you’d gotten away with a long, delicious appraisal, but he flipped his glasses down his nose and peeked over them at you. The look in his eye made you blush.

He turned the music down and stared at you while the huge truck idled at a red light. His voice was nice and even as he asked,

“What are you lookin’ at, darlin’?”

“Nothing,” you tried to be dismissive, playing coy but doing it badly.

An enormous, rough hand grabbed you around your knee,

“Nothin’? Like what you were wearin’ in that snap you sent me last week, nothin’?”

You blushed pink. The light turned green. Alex stayed staring at you, squeezing your leg, until someone behind him honked, and even then he took his sweet time.

“Mmhm,” you said, waiting for his next move as he drove onward, revving the truck’s angry engine.

“Did you tell him yet?” Alex asked, threading his fingers through yours as you captured it from your lap..

“No,” you laughed under your breath, “I think you’d have known by now if I had.”

He laughed with you, readjusting his cap,

“I think I’d have a black eye by now.”

You grimaced in reply, knowing your brother’s temper. He wouldn’t be thrilled to see you flirting with his best friend from when he was enlisted. Alex saw you frown, and he held your hand a little tighter, saying,

“Worth it.”

You drew in a tight breath and looked over at him. His gaze stayed on the road this time, pushing the speed limit, taking the exit to the lake.

You’d known Alex Keller ever since your brother moved to Clearwater. Your brother, Charlie, had studied at university and he had fallen in love with a man who was in Alex’s old regiment. They’d gotten married, and now, Charlie had his green card and everything. All of Alex’s friends and army buddies had brought Charlie into the fold. He was even driving a Ford F-150 these days. If it wasn’t for his Kiwi accent, he could’ve passed as a true American.

You tried to come over to see Charlie and his husband, Greg, every summer. But, with the restrictions in place, it had been a few years. This would be a happy reunion as long as he didn’t discover the relationship blooming between you and his best friend, Alex.

It had been an accident, really. Charlie had lost his phone, and Alex had called you by accident, trying to find it. Then, you had just…kept calling. They were late night talks for you, and early morning talks for him, but you and Alex just seemed to have so much to say to each other. When he flew out to Urzikstan for dangerous missions, or over to Russia to do God knows what, he would always send you back some little trinkets from his trip.

You knew it was a lie. You knew, in your heart, that he had been over there killing people and saving the world from whatever horrors were terrorizing those deep, dark places. But, when you got a little glass camel figurine in the mail, its box covered in a million stamps, you put it on your window sill and watched the light dance through it like it hadn’t been shipped from some sort of master of war. But, if you were truly honest with yourself, you didn't give a shit.

You’d been talking for about six months now, and the build up to your trip was intense. The anticipation was killing you both. Seeing him now, feeling the bones of his hand in yours as you massaged the tiny muscles inside of his palm, it was all too much. You needed Charlie to understand that you had fallen madly in love with his best friend.

“I think we should tell him,” Alex said, interrupting your thoughts.

“Shit,” you scoffed, “He’s gonna lose it.”

“I don’t want to keep hiding you away. And maybe…” you heard the familiar tones of doubt in his throat, “Maybe I’m not the kind of man your brother wants for you. But, I can be.”

You kissed the back of his hand, letting the tiny hairs tickle your skin. The lake house wasn’t far, but you wanted to reassure him more than just chaste affection.

“I’m eager to see the kind of man you can be,” you turned the seduction up to eleven, hoping he wouldn’t immediately laugh at you.

He didn’t laugh. If anything, other than a flash of panic in his eyes, he didn’t move. He allowed you to flip his hand over, its wide palm facing the sky as you planted kiss after kiss onto his skin. You felt his breathing quicken, rippling through his limbs. Finally, you took his forefinger into your mouth and began to gently suck on its tip. It was salty, and probably unclean, but you didn’t care. You kept going, moving your mouth up and down his thick digit as if it were his cock. And goddamn did you want it to be his cock.

The phone calls had turned flirtatious, and then downright lascivious, in the last few months. Once, while he was hiding in a bunker somewhere in Ukraine, he’d called you, desperate. You listened to him as he pulled hungrily on his cock, letting you listen to the wet slipping sounds of his fist pounding into his skin, searching for release. He’d begged for your mouth. He said it was all he could think about, and the gorgeous little whimpering noises he made had set it in your mind. You dreamed about blowing him for weeks. You thought about how his come would taste when you had been sitting in the terminal and waiting on your plane. You were going to suck the life out of Alex Keller at this fucking party tonight if it was the last thing you ever did.

“Oh,” his voice was shaking and quiet, “Fuuuuuck.”

One more strong suck on his finger and you let him loose, wiping away the wetness with your hand, lacing your fingers back through his as if nothing had happened.

His breathing was ragged, and his hand was trembling. The lake house was just up ahead, and as Alex pulled into the drive, he took his hand back from your grip to adjust his growing cock. It looked heavy, and you couldn’t stop staring.

“Holy shit,” he sighed, “Charles is gonna kill me.”

“I won’t let him,” you smiled.

“That mouth…” he was still turned on, and his voice was deepened by his arousal.

“Wait til you see what else it can do,” you grinned and popped open your door to greet Charlie.

Your brother was in a black apron and carrying a set of tongs. He was at least six and a half feet tall and built like an ox. The back of his neck was red from the sun, and he wore his hair up in a poorly coiffed bun. You shut the truck door and he turned around. When he saw you, his face lit up, and he shouted your name across the yard.

“Kia ora, sister. Look at you! How’s the Air B&B?”

Charlie held you close to his body, hugging you so tight that it hurt. You let it hurt.

“Fine. I’m starving.”

“It’s coming. Where’s Alex?”

“Grabbing the bags, I think.”

You turned back around and watched as Alex bent into the truck bed and pulled your bag out along with his. He’d let his sunglasses fall around his neck and walked over to you and Charlie.

“Charles,” Alex smiled, dropping a bag to shake your brother’s hand.

“Alex, thanks for picking her up. Greg and the boys are down at the dock.”

You spent the day jet skiing and swimming with Alex and all of your brother’s friends. The girlfriends and wives and husbands all introduced themselves, or reintroduced themselves if they had met you before, and Alex stuck by your side through it all. He could have easily abandoned you to go on the fishing trip that most of the other men were keen to take, or he could have hung around Charlie all day since it had been months since they’d seen each other, too. But, he didn’t. He seemed to know that you didn’t want to be alone, and he held you to him in as much as he dared.

It would be a lie, though, if you two didn’t admit to sharing a stray touch or even a kiss every now and then. You kept finding excuses to be alone together.

Finally, it was nearly fireworks time, and Greg was setting up the array of them. The purple dusk was just settling on the horizon, and you and Alex had front-row seats. He had brought you another icy beer from the cooler, and a towel from inside the house to sit on. You’d positioned yourselves right next to the small pool house, a little away from the crowd.

The pool house was little more than a small bedroom and a toilet, but it was big enough to block anyone from seeing you two from behind. That way, if someone was looking at you, you’d know it. The excitement of hiding your affection from everyone was exhilarating.

You had worn your bright pink triangle bikini, and Alex had spent most of the day staring at it. You’d even made him retie the bows a few times, just to torture him. Once, he’d even managed to swipe a finger over your nipple, so you knew that once everyone’s eyes were focused on the exploding sky, it was on.

Other houses on the lake were popping their own fireworks, and there was a man who was famous for his end-of-the-night show. As Charlie lit more and more of the small ones, you noticed the other houses following suit. It was pretty, and every time a mortar cracked in the sky, you could feel it in your chest.

Once it became dark enough, you started to rub your hand up and down Alex’s bare thigh. He scooted closer and closer to you like a dog begging for more pets. You obliged him, running your fingers higher and higher until you were disturbing the hem of his shorts. Then, you went for it.

He felt you move your hand to the warm flesh between his legs, and he whispered,

"No, no, wait...oh, fuck..."

You put your hand through the stretchy leg of the nylon trunks and searched for his heavy cock and balls. You ignored his dick at first, rubbing his balls gently, moving them around in your hand, massaging them and feeling his dick fighting for attention above your wrist.

“Holy fucking shit, woman,” he hissed, fidgeting in his seat, his eyes turned skyward as he gasped as quietly as he could.

“You enjoying the show?” You asked, acting very casual.

“Enjoying…Jesus Christ,” Alex furrowed his brow at you and wiped a hand down his face. His eyes shone blue and then green and then red as the colors burst above you.

Finally, you wrapped your fingers around his swollen rod, nearly three times as large as it had been soft, and started to pump up and down slowly and deliberately. He let out a trembling breath.

“Baby, baby, baby, please…ah, please.”

“What do you need, Alex?” You whispered, kissing his neck, “Tell me. I wanna hear it.”

“I need your mouth, baby. Please, I’ll do anything,” he kissed you back, his mustache and beard tickling your skin, sending chills down your arms.

You looked over your shoulder at the pool house, and he followed your gaze. Then, you looked back down at the dock and saw Charlie and Greg untangling a huge fireworks display. You had time.

“C’mon,” you stood up quietly and opened up the door to the pool house.

The two of you snuck in and shut it behind you, still able to see through the small skylight as the fireworks were going off outside. You didn’t wait for him to get settled. In fact, you grabbed Alex by the arm and pulled him into the small room, sinking to your knees on the well-worn rug. You looped your fingers in the waistband of his shorts, and pulled them down. His cock flagged free, bobbing up and down, and he was as hard as a stone.

“Holy fuck! Wait, wait…oh, fuck!” He tried to catch his balance, and set his hands on your shoulders.

You stared at his hard length, admiring the velvety smoothness of his skin, looking at his bare, pink head. You could see the scar from his circumcision, and you ran your tongue along the dark line of skin, licking him up and onto his plump, uncovered head. The sound he made from your first contact would be burned into your brain forever. It was a low, dark growl mixed with a sigh that seemed like he had just been relieved from carrying the whole world on his shoulders. Maybe he had.

You took him into your mouth achingly slowly, looking up at him the entire time you did so, watching his face contort into different stages of blissful agony. He had one hand in his hair, pulling on it at the roots, his hat knocked back, looking like he was in shock. You swallowed him deeper, opening and closing your throat with swallow after swallow, making more and more drool pool in your mouth as you did until it was running out of your lips and down onto your chest.

Then, you began to bob your head back and forth along as much of his length as you could take, choking yourself with it until it hurt just a little. You tried to relax. You wanted to show him that you could take it all, that you could be his relief.

You focused on his head, running your tongue over its crest, tasting his salty precome as you lapped over his hole, rubbing the slick back and bumpy front of your tongue across it over and over and over. You used your hand to pump him up and down as you did, shaking him vigorously while he was sucked into your mouth.

Then, just as you were finding a steady, beating rhythm, he took your head in his hands and pulled you off of him. He was panting and ferocious when he whispered to you,

“Oh, my fucking God, baby. You don’t have to —”

“I want to,” you insisted, wrapping your hands behind your thighs and pulling his cock into your lips again. You kissed his head like it was his mouth, making out with his cock, covering him in your spit.

You felt him take one of the strings of your bikini in his hands and tug. Your top fluttered down, exposing your breasts to the dark room. You moaned.

When you did, he stumbled forward, losing his balance,

“Shit. Baby, I can't...” he begged, catching himself on the side of the end table, his knuckles white and straining to hold up his weight.

“I’ll let you sit,” you said cheekily, “If you hold my hair for me.”

“Oh, God,” he sank to the bed and laced his fingers through your hair, grabbing the back of your skull.

You sucked him harder, moaning as you did so, playing with your nipples and feeling your drool run down your chin.

Alex’s hand was only loosely connected, and you wanted more from him. You pulled away again and looked up at him with the biggest doe eyes you could muster,

“Alex,” you had his attention like a bright fire, “Fuck my face. Please.”

A snarl came out of his mouth, and he had to put himself back together before he answered you. He used his big hands to pet your hair out of your face, running a thumb across your wet bottom lip with tender care,

“I don’t wanna hurt you, baby. This feels so good. I don’t need you to -”

“I need you to. I wanna feel you in my throat.”

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“Only a little,” you smiled and licked the tip of him again, teasing him.

“If I hurt you, pinch me. Hard.”

You nodded, taking him as deep as you could. Then, when you reached your limit, you felt his hands get tight, shoving you down past your mouth and into your throat. He was still so gentle with you as he moved himself inside of you, fucking you ever so slowly, waiting for your pinch. So, you started to moan and lick and pull him closer with your hands, pushing yourself to the point of gagging.

He yanked you off of him in a hurry, thinking you were injured. A long, frothy line of drool came out with him, and you spit the rest onto his shaft and returned him to your mouth. Now that you knew that you could go that deep with help, you tried to do it without, and you nearly succeeded.

Alex was a complete mess above you, and his moans had become high, whining whimpers. With every swallow, with every lick, you earned a new noise. A gasp, a curse, a shaking cry. You played him like an instrument. Loudly.

Finally, you took him all the way in, past even where he had dared to push you, and you buried your nose in his crotch, smelling his hair and sweat and skin.

“Oh, fucking shit! Fuck that’s deep. Oh, God. Oh, God! Baby!”

He was unraveled like a ball of string, spilling out everywhere. His body betrayed his politeness, and he thrust himself into you once, twice. You watched as the rockets and cannons and mortars all exploded around you in a fiery, rainbow crescendo, he came down your throat, crying for you, whimpering your name, gasping through gritted teeth.

You counted to ten, trying not to gag, feeling his cock pulsing in your mouth, beating like a heart. Then, you started to get light-headed. So, you pulled back, releasing him in a slobbery, wet mess of come and spit.

You leaned forward into his lap and began to lick him clean. He shuddered as you did so, shaking and moaning as your tongue touched all of his sensitive places. You saved his head for last. Licking up and down his shaft, cleaning his come from him, tasting his body’s sweet, sticky release. Until finally, you looked up at him with a sly smile.

He looked down at you in dumb shock as you sucked all the fluid away from his swollen head, and he gasped as you finished the job. You released him with a pop from your lips and smiled, sitting back on your heels and playing with your tits.

Alex lay on the bed for a while, and you joined him, rubbing his skin under his cutoff tee. He rolled onto his side and greedily suckled on your nipples, kissing your mouth and neck affectionately, fondling you a little more aggressively than you expected. Then, he looked up at the door and back down at you,

“Will you still want me after your brother breaks my nose?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes,

“Sure, I will.”

“Then, wait here, baby. I’ll be right back.”

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #alex keller #alex keller x reader #alex keller smut #alex keller cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod

245 notes · View notes