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noxturnalpascal · 2 months

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Devotion 🖤 II. Predator or Prey? (Ch 4)

CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader

Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?

Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.

*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*

LAYOUT OF JOEL'S HOUSE

II. Predator or Prey?

CH 4 (4.8k) The following Sunday everyone in town is gathered at the old church with the big white steeple for the weekly Valley meeting. After a midday interfaith service, the religious leader gives Joel the floor for his usual speech. As he always does, Joel begins by extolling the virtues of the community, speaking on their recent raiding successes, and then reviews the three tenants.

We are stronger together. It’s important that everyone finds a place within The Valley that caters to their strengths, so we can depend on each other and serve one another. The predator versus the prey. You have to be one or the other and we choose to not be anyone’s prey. This community is held above any other and we must protect it at all costs. Create a path to the future. Everything we do here paves the way for us as a society to beat the fungus, to find a cure, and to return to the top of the food chain.

The crowd listens, enraptured, nodding along and smiling as Joel holds them in the palm of his hand. He praises the men and women who patrol the perimeter of the community for their diligence and bravery. He thanks the farmers who live outside the town borders for their perseverance. Then he scans the crowd, looking for you, to silently acknowledge how grateful he is for your presence. But all he sees are the same eyes over and over again, looking at him with devotion and reverence. He usually sees you in the second row with the rest of the house, but you’re not there.

As his speech winds to a close and he heads back to his front-row seat, he realizes that you were in the crowd with the rest of his household. You were there in the second row the whole time, staring at him just like the rest of them do, with blind adoration, with expectation, with mindless loyalty. He’d felt a change on Thursday. After the meeting he’d touched you everywhere, gotten down on his knees for you, and worshiped at your altar. He’d felt something shift and now the wild look in your eyes is gone.

You’re completely devoted. You’re under his spell. You’re one of them.

One of us, he corrects himself. You’re one of us, just like he wanted you to be…. Right?

You watch Joel speaking at the meeting and it's as if his words have new meaning – like he’s speaking directly to you. You’ve never felt small or beautiful or feminine, but he makes you feel whole. He makes you feel strong. He makes you feel like a woman. You feel like you were supposed to be his, always. And it was always supposed to go like this, as if your whole life has led you to this moment. All of your failures have led you here, to him.

The trepidation you felt when you first got here has completely disappeared and you know that you’ll give everything you have to Joel. You’ll give him all of you, your mind, body and soul, gladly. He can fill in all of the broken or missing pieces of you. Every bad thing that ever happened to you Joel can fix. He can heal the parts of you that weren’t good enough, that weren’t pretty enough, that weren’t smart enough.

He can save you.

As soon as the crowd begins to move out of the large room and amble towards the dining hall next door for dinner, he grabs your arm and pulls you roughly into a small supply closet. It smells of lemon and vinegar and is far too small for two people to move about comfortably. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that there is a crowd of people on the other side of the door or that he shouldn’t be asking you to do what he’s about to ask you to do.

The look in your eyes has gone to his head, he needs to see your supplication right now. He needs to witness your devotion, he needs to give you communion. He pushes you down onto your knees, undoes his pants, and offers himself to you. It’s your first time seeing the size of him and you look willing to comply, your eyes still dazed and glowing, still filled with trust in him. He watches as you take hold of him with one hand and begin to lick and kiss the head, slowly dragging your tongue up and down his shaft.

Once you put him fully in your mouth he loses all patience, needing more immediately. He pushes your hand away and takes your head in a firm grip on either side, pausing as you look up at him. Your eyes are still glassy. He nods his head and you reciprocate, which he takes as permission to begin drawing himself in and out of your mouth, gently pushing your head forwards and backwards.

Slowly, he passes back and forth over your lips, allowing you to adjust to him. This only lasts for a few thrusts before he begins to move faster, deeper. He matches the movements of his hips with his grip on the sides of your head, coordinating them to fuck your face in earnest. He hears your gurgles and sees tears beginning to run down your cheeks but you don’t push him away, so he doesn’t stop. He tells himself that you want this. You want this as much as he does.

You kneel beneath him, knees stinging on the hard floor, mouth full and struggling to breathe around him. You’re not sure where this is coming from, but it's obvious that he needs this right now, and what you want above all else is to give him what he needs, to be everything for him. You place your hands on his thighs to brace yourself and try your best to breathe through your nose, to be quiet and still and exactly what he needs you to be, even if this is painful and uncomfortable.

You wish the tears would stop streaming down your face. You’re afraid to even look up at him, worried that he’ll take one look at you and think you’re not enjoying it. What if he thinks you’re having a terrible time, what if he thinks you look awful, what if he thinks he’s hurting you? Maybe those things are kind of true, but still…. What if he stops? What would you do with yourself if he stopped? If he didn’t want you to do this anymore?

You finally look up and meet his eyes. You barely recognize him, his eyes black and his face hard. He doesn’t even meet your gaze, it’s like he’s staring right through you. His pace begins to falter and his hips start to stutter, and you hope it means he’s nearly done. You’re trying so hard to bear this, to not choke, to not cry, to ignore the stiffness in your jaw and the stinging in your knees, but you don’t know how much longer you can do it.

“Are you gonna swallow it?” he huffs out, voice strained. He pulls himself out of your throat until only the tip of him rests on your lips.

“I’ve never–” you swallow back a gag, “I’ve never done that before.”

“But you will, right?” he nods his head as he asks.

He nods, so you nod. And you will. You’ll do anything he asks of you. You don’t have time to wipe your face, which you’re sure must look a mess, before he puts his entire length back inside your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. You can’t stop your body from heaving as he pushes in, and part of you wonders how he’s able to ignore it. He’s usually so in-tune with you.

He lasts less than a dozen more thrusts before his hips stutter to a halt as he starts to release his orgasm down your throat. You feel hot spurts hitting the back of your mouth and you’re awash with shame that it instantly makes you want to gag. He needs this, you tell yourself. You have to be good for him, you have to do a good job for him. You have to be everything he needs you to be.

He pulls himself back so his cock rests on your tongue as he continues to come, coating your mouth, and now you taste him for the first time. The salty bitterness covers your tongue and you’re begging yourself not to retch. He holds your head still, encouraging you to swallow him, even placing one hand over your throat and telling you don’t spit, and swallow it all, which you do with difficulty.

When you’ve swallowed every drop, he seems satisfied and lets go of your head, tucking himself back into his pants. Without warning he turns and walks out of the closet, leaving you to lurch forward since you were resting on him for support. You fall forward onto your hands, catching yourself before your face meets the ground, scraping your palms a bit on the dirty linoleum.

You stay there for a moment like that, on all fours, in a cleaning closet, alone. Down here it smells like musty mop heads and mildew. Down here. On your knees. For Joel. Days ago you were alone with him and he was the one on his knees, worshiping your body, treating you like a goddess. Today he used your mouth like a fuck toy. No, you can’t think like that. That’s not what Joel did, he would never do that.

You run the last ten minutes through your mind a few times as you slowly get up and brush yourself off. He needed you. He could have anyone here but he chose you, out of everyone. No one ever did that before. No one ever chose you over anyone else. But Joel did. Joel needed you today and you were able to be there for him, and that’s what matters.

Joel pushes his way through the crowd, not an ounce of shame or regret present. He smiles and shakes hands and gives hugs. Everyone in The Valley looks to him for answers, for guidance, for leadership. He’s the reason every single one of them is here and he’s responsible for them all. They are his flock and he is their shepherd. He gives so much of himself to be here, to do this. He deserves the adoration and the appreciation. He deserves you. He deserves your body, your mouth, your reverence.

He knows you’ve changed since you arrived, you’ve become more trusting, less wild. You’ve morphed into what they all wanted you to be, a devoted member of The Valley. He’s changed also. He used to be different, back when you first met. Back then he could give you pieces of himself, his real self. But the more you’re drawn to him and the more you’ve trusted him, the more he's become unworthy of your trust. He doesn’t even remember doing it intentionally, but it’s done.

He’s slowly lured you into his trap and now, you’re caught.

–

The rest of the week your head is completely filled with thoughts of him. He’s your first thought in the morning and your last thought before you fall asleep. All night your dreams are filled with him, and you cling to the fleeting images of him when you wake. You can’t seem to get enough of him, aching to be near him every moment of the day. You stare at him longingly across the table at every meal and follow him around like a puppy whenever you can, unable to focus on anything else.

Joel himself is so lost in his own delusions of grandeur, he walks around the house with his head held high, cocky and full of himself. He can feel you staring at him all the time and he indulges you once in a while by taking your hand and grazing it across his lips, down his chest, over his burgeoning erection. He’s half-hard all the time now, anticipating. He’s convinced that you’re going to let him fuck you after the next Thursday meeting. He’s going to have you, he’s going to have every piece of you.

The days leading up to it, he thinks about it all day; his dick achingly hard but he refuses to jerk off now, wanting to save it for you. He’s practically vibrating with anticipation when Tess comes up to him Thursday before dinner and gives him the bad news. She tells him you’re sick, started throwing up a couple hours ago, and won’t be able to accompany him to the meeting.

Before he can argue, Tess waves her hand in front of his face, telling him not to worry, that Kerri will be going with him instead. Without a moment for an argument to leave his lips, Tess slips away and Kerri is standing in front of him. She has been living with them for almost a year now, since he found her battered and bruised about a half day’s ride from here.

Kerri is petite, has chin-length curly hair, a toothy smile, and a faint scar stretching from her left temple down to her jawline. She walks with a barely noticeable limp but always pulls her weight around the house, doing most of the meal prep and impressing everyone with her fine cooking skills. She is nurturing, generous, pretty, and maybe the last person Joel wanted to see tonight. She’s not you. He wanted you.

He’s made so irritable by the last-minute change that he can’t even hide his disappointment. He can barely focus during the meeting, getting easily distracted and having to ask people to repeat themselves. After the meeting, Kerri, sensing his unease, gives him a hug to try and ease some of his tension. He knows she feels his erection, how could she not? It’s been raging for days and he can’t help himself, he pulls her tight and grinds himself into her for a brief moment of satisfaction.

Back at the house he heads into his room but within minutes Kerri is knocking on his door. She asks, is this okay? and he hesitates. She hasn’t come to his room since before he brought you into town, but pushing his dick into her thigh at the meeting tonight for the small relief that friction brought him must have signaled to her that he desired her company. He doesn’t. He only wants your company.

He looks at the closed door to your room and thinks about you inside, sick, probably asleep. What would be the harm in seeking comfort from Kerri? He’s fucked her before, it’s not a big deal. He’s never fucked you, it wouldn’t be like he was cheating. In fact, he thinks you’d probably want this for him. You wouldn’t want him to be suffering, and he’s been painfully hard for days. You’d want him to have relief.

There’s a small voice screaming in the back of his head that he ignores. You’ll never have to know about Kerri. You didn’t know about her before and you won’t know about her tonight, and what you don’t know can’t hurt you.

He opens his door further, silently inviting Kerri inside. She attempts to kiss him but he won’t let his lips meet hers, instead kissing the side of her head, her cheeks, her neck. He tries to breathe through his mouth, unable to get over the scent of her that isn’t at all like yours. He lets her hands grope along his body and he closes his eyes tight, trying to imagine they belong to you instead.

She undoes his belt and pushes his pants down with a practiced hand as she palms his length, working to get his half-hard cock to come to life. Between her curls tickling his chin, her all-wrong scent, and her rough touch, he can’t seem to keep his erection. How is he supposed to fuck away his need for you if he can’t stay hard?

Wordlessly, she sinks down to her knees in front of him. Don’t worry, she says, as she puts him in her mouth, doubling down on her efforts to work his stress right out of his dick. With her not-your scent, not-your hair, and not-your face out of his line of vision, he’s able to let his mind wander and let his thoughts of you return.

He imagines you on your knees in front of him, thinks of you in the closet with your lips wrapped around him. He thinks of your wet mouth, your soft hands, your wild eyes. That does it. He comes immediately and without warning, causing Kerri to cough and sputter around him, spitting his come back onto him. His own release gets splattered onto his thighs, slides down his shaft, and drips from his balls as Kerri wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, rising to her feet.

“Uhhh, thanks hon,” Joel mutters, as he pets her head and pushes her towards the door.

You know it’s probably close to midnight when you rise in your bed, having spent hours throwing up and then sleeping. Your body is tight with pain, you feel flushed and sweaty, and your head is pounding. You should drink the water Tess left on your nightstand but you worry that it might cause you to throw up again. You were really hoping to see Joel when he got home from the meeting tonight, so when you hear his door open, you heave yourself out of bed and turn your doorknob to greet him.

You see Kerri leaving his room as he stands in the open doorway, pants undone and softening dick still dripping with the evidence of his release. Kerri doesn’t see you as she heads down the hall to her room but Joel’s eyes rise to meet yours for a brief moment before you hastily close the door. You hear the clinking of his belt and then hear his voice directly on the other side of the wood.

“Hey baby, how you doin’?”

Your head is spinning, you’re sweating profusely now, your pulse throbs behind your eyes. Did you really just see what you think you saw? It was pretty dark in the hallway, maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you. You’re pretty sure you have a fever, maybe you’re hallucinating. Joel lightly knocks on the door and you jump.

“You alright?” he asks.

You mutter back a yeah before you stumble towards your bed, wondering if this is all just some bad dream. Joel wouldn’t be fucking around with Kerri, he wouldn’t do that, he isn’t like that. Joel doesn’t use people, right? Joel is yours… right? This must all be a nightmare you’re having. You’re taking short, quick breaths now, fighting to remain conscious. You fall onto the mattress. You’re so fucking sick and as your head hits the pillow you let sleep overtake you.

After a long, fitful night’s sleep, you wake in the late afternoon, feeling slightly less feverish than the day before. You’re immediately hit by a wave of panic, feeling tightness in your stomach and it starts to hurt, causing you to fear you may throw up again. You saw Joel and Kerri last night, and you’re pretty sure she wasn’t helping him with a stuck zipper. You need to talk to Joel, you need to confront him about what you think you saw. You need to hear him tell you it’s not true.

Joel is sitting at his desk, going over the patrols for the upcoming Christmas holiday, when you knock at his door. He’s been waiting for you to come see him since you caught Kerri leaving his room last night. He knew he’d have some questions to answer, he’s just not sure yet how he’s going to answer them. He knows he was well within his rights to have Kerri get him off, he just hopes you don’t come crying to him, jealous and angry.

He opens the door for you and lets you into the office. You enter the room and round the corner away from the door, keeping your gaze at your feet. You fumble with your hands but don’t speak, attempting to gather the courage to ask a question you’re not sure you want the answer to. Joel opens his mouth to start the conversation but before he can speak, there’s another knock at the door.

He moves to open the door and Rosie, all five feet nine inches of her, is peering at him over her glasses. She throws her arms around him, pushing him back into the room a little, whispering in his ear.

“I heard you were stressed out honey, I can help ya out a little,” as she lowers herself to her knees.

Joel doesn’t even have time to protest as she reaches for his belt, looking up at his face. She stills her hands and follows his gaze behind her, turning back to meet your eyes, which are bulging out of your head.

“Oh PJ, I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t know you were in here.”

She gets up off her knees and quickly exits, leaving you and Joel alone once more. Joel knows the other shoe has dropped. Some of these women have been here for a long time, some for a short time, they are free to come and go if they desire, but living in his house is considered a privilege. He’s the leader of this community and to be able to help take care of his sexual needs and have him take care of yours is held in high honor.

The women who live here aren’t petty or jealous, they are sweet and giving people, hard workers, and dedicated members of The Valley who make sacrifices and put others – notably Joel – first. They’ve been keeping their distance out of respect for the obvious affection that you and Joel feel for each other, but they must think that since Joel seems stressed then it’s their time to step in and perform their usual duties.

They don’t know that you aren’t aware of the long-standing arrangement they have in this house. They don’t discuss things over the breakfast table but they also don’t keep things secret, because they don’t know that it should be a secret. They’re all open and honest with each other and have no idea that Joel has kept you in the dark about his relationships with them.

Of course, you have been kept in the dark, and now that the light is shining – too brightly – on the truth, it’s making you sick to your stomach. You stare at the ground where Rosie was just kneeling in front of Joel. You know that what you thought you saw last night was, in fact, Kerri leaving Joel’s room after getting him off somehow. It happened. It was about to happen again. It’s probably happened before.

“It’s all of them?” you ask.

Joel shrugs.

“It’s all of them,” you say again, not a question this time. Your vision is going blurry from the blood pumping through your skull so hard. You’re afraid you’re going to pass out. “You fuck all of them?”

“I have, yeah,” Joel says, shrugging again.

“And you plan to fuck me too?” You can’t even meet his face, your mind is reeling a mile a minute.

“You’re welcome to come to my room anytime you want, baby,” he answers casually. Goosebumps roll across your whole body and you fight back a dry-heave.

“Like they do?”

“Sometimes,” he fucking shrugs again. “It’s not a big deal, PJ.”

You barely hear him, the sound of your own heartbeat creating a hum in your ears, the sick feeling in your stomach rising up your throat, threatening to spill your insides out at your feet. Not a big deal, he says. It’s not a big deal that he’s been lying to you since the day you got here. It’s not a big deal that he wants to use you just like he’s apparently been using these other women, that he wants to use your body for his pleasure. It’s not a big deal that you thought he was different.

And now you see the cracks in this whole place, see it for what it actually is. This place is upholding a façade of a normal society, but it isn’t even close. Joel is treated like some kind of god or king or both and no one says no to him, he gets whatever and apparently whoever he wants. You can’t believe that he made you feel like you mattered when you clearly don’t matter at all.

You thought he could fix you. All he did was break you. You’ve never felt so low.

“Just another one,” you start to repeat, “Just another one. Just another one. Just another one.”

You’re just another one of these things that he gets when he wants it, and he gets whatever he wants.

“Just another one. Just another one. Just another one.”

He’s just another man, in a long line of many, who used you.

“Just another one. Just another one.”

He walks towards you, backing you up against the wall, bringing his face closer to yours. Baby, you hear him say, as he brings his lips towards yours. He tries to kiss you but you shudder away, repulsed by him, and he grabs for your arm to pull you back to him. Overwhelmed by his scent and the clawing tightness gripping your insides, you bend at the waist and throw up all over his shoes.

“What the fuck,” he curses loudly before he takes a deep breath, calming himself. “You okay, PJ?”

He reaches for you again and you push him away, a loud sob leaving your lips. Oh fuckin’ christ, he mutters. Here come the fuckin’ waterworks. You’re making a big deal out of nothing and he’s getting annoyed at the theatrics. He grabs your arm and yanks you up, ignoring the vomit dripping from your chin and the tears streaming down your face.

“Quit bein’ dramatic,” he says as he shakes you by the arm.

Tess comes in the door just then, seeing your face and the way Joel is manhandling you.

“What the fuck, Joel?” she wrenches you out of his grip, touching your forehead and feeling your fever.

She sees the throw-up all over Joel’s feet and sees him roll his eyes. She has no idea what’s going on right now but Joel has lost all his tenderness with you. She scolds him for letting you out of bed, telling him you’re still really sick. She takes you back up to your room, makes you drink some water, and tucks you back into bed, threatening to call the doctor if you try to get up again before your fever breaks.

–

Later that night as Joel heads up to bed he goes to your door and knocks several times, but you don’t answer. He knocks again, no answer, and knocks again. Tess comes out of her room and down the hall, having heard the noise he’s making knocking repeatedly at your door.

“Leave her alone Joel, I told you she’s fuckin’ sick.”

“Shut up Tess,” he doesn’t even turn to look at her. “Get back in your room.”

He throws your door open and sees you laying in bed with your back to the door. He says your name several times but you don’t move a muscle. He takes a step forward, his foot crossing the threshold to your room.

“Don’t you dare,” Tess snaps at him.

His steps halt. He says your name again, louder this time. Aside from the rise and fall of your breathing, you don’t move. He knows you can hear him, the whole house can fucking hear him. Tess is behind him, berating him some more. He repeats your name, yelling now. He hears a door down the hallway open, yells again, hears Tess hissing stop it, goddamnit, and then hears another door open.

How dare you fucking ignore him. Who the fuck do you think you are right now? He lifts his foot to take another step into your room and he hears Tess start to go ballistic behind him, cursing and bellyaching. Why don’t you fucking look at him? He hears whispers of the other women further down the hallway. Jesus fucking christ, why don’t they leave him alone? Why don’t you roll over?

He steps back into the hallway and slams your door closed, rattling the walls of the entire house. “Go to bed,” he screams at Tess. “Go the fuck to bed,” he repeats down the corridor as he steps into his room, slamming his own door behind him as well.

🖤

Thank you endlessly to @papipascalispunk for helping me with this series and listening to me rant about Cult Leader Joel. 🫂 I appreciate you SO much.

TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed) @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @covetyou @iamasaddie @sr-lrn @clawdee @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @merz-8 @speckledemerald @alltheseperfectimperfections @survivingandenduring @afraidtofear @millennial-teenybopper @missladym1981 @xdaddysprincessxx @lumoverheaven @ghoulettesinspace @brittmb115 @wintersquirrel @obscurexsorrows @littlevenicebitch69 @lulawantmula @pedroswife69 @joeldjarin @heimtathurss @untamedheart81 @pixielou5 @feel1n-h1gh

#devotion series #cult leader joel miller #noxturnalpascal #ofc!reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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pandorasfavorite · 3 months

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Hi can you do where the reader is teasing Dom all night at raw and then Dom towards the middle gets really needy and horny and the reader tells him he has to wait but the reader keeps teasing him while they are out at dinner after raw in front of the judgement day and when they get back to the hotel it’s just reallyyyyyy smuttyyyyy from there

Weeks of Weakness

Word Count: 3364 (doesn’t even seem like much…)

AN: I did not proof read this so if you see any mistakes be a sweetheart and private message me. LOVE YALL and enjoy if it's good. I think the main change is there’s no hotel, oops sorry.

Trouble 💗

Do you need anything while I’m out baby?

No. I’m waiting for you.

I’ll be there in just a minute.

I can’t wait to see you.

———————————————————————————

You are beyond excited to see Dominik, you’ve been dating him for two months and you mainly see him at work. And more and more you miss him every day that you are apart from him. You both have liked each other long before 2 months though. And truthfully you’ve only been to each other house a few times, the time you’ve spent with him wasn’t enough for you. The one thing you have been waiting forever to do though is spend time with Dominik in another way…

Dominik is polite, sweet, and above all a gentleman, he has never pressured you to take the steamy make-out sessions on his couch any further. But you knew how bad you wanted him to take you right there. After many weeks of hope, you’ve decided to take a different approach.

Dominik knocks on the dressing room door before just walking in, he has a bag of drinks in his hand and a cute confused face. “Where is everyone?”, he asks you with a hint of confusion. He sets down the drinks on the table before walking over to you, not before letting eyes rake over your body. You are wearing a tight outfit that hugs all your curves and insinuates your features. The one thing you knew Dominik would like most though is the new necklace you have dangling around your neck.

He stops in front of you and instantly his eyes brighten in recognition, the necklace has his initials and it’s lying down the valley of your chest. His face splits into a grin and he grabs you by the waist, thrusting your body against the front of his. “I like that a lot. When did you get it mami?”, his eyes are flickering down to the necklace to your eyes.

“Not too long ago. You like it?”, you ask him even though he already told you he did once. His tongue darts out to lick his lips and for a second you see his eyes look further past the necklace. You let your hands slide over the hard muscles of his arms, one of the only parts of his body not covered by the black leather. You squeeze his arms waiting for an answer, your tongue prodding at the side of your cheek suggestively. “You teasing me mami?”, his voice became deeper and his face turned playful.

You raise up and peck his lips quickly, pulling away before he can kiss back. “Not yet”, you answer checking the time and grabbing Dominik’s wrist to usher him away.

Best believe today was going to be a challenge for Dominik.

--------------------------------------------------------------

You are always there for Dominik's matches, much before you both started to date. But today you told him that it wasn't possible for you, that you had too much to do. And Dominik couldn't help but be upset, he skidded to a stop when you told him and his face immediately fell into a sad expression. "Are you serious?", he asks tugging you closer to him like your leaving forever. His hand is around your wrist, yet you bring your hands to lay flat on his chest; he still refuses to let go of you.

"You'll do great. I will be waiting for you at home, okay?", you flutter your eyelashes at him to make this easier on him. "Home?!", he all but shouts, the poor thing is so confused you can't help but giggle at his distress. You plant a kiss on his slightly pouting lips before removing yourself from him. He whips his head around to watch you leave before he yells after you, "Yours or mine?". You don't dare look back knowing Dominik could chase after you for another departing kiss, "Mine!", you holler back. Dominik is mad and his face is screwed up in anger, of course, he's not mad at you, he's mad at the circumstances and how confused you left him. But there was no way in hell he was going to lose.

So while Dominik was about to go on, you were rushing home to change. You change into lingerie, a dark purple and black set just for Dominik. Your panties are thin and they barely cover you but that is exactly what you wanted, the same goes for the top yet it is sheer. Dark purple but still light though to see the curves of your breasts. So you prop up your phone and snap photos of yourself, scrolling through them and deleting the less pleasing ones. Minutes pass and more photos of yourself are being taken, the moment Dominik sends you a message that he is on the way you set the plan into motion.

Trouble 🩷

On my way.

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Fuck. Your sexy mami.

--------------------------------------------------------------This was just the start. In a flash, you hop up off the bed and you throw on some casual clothes, rushing into the living room to unlock the door and to fall onto the couch. In the time you spent 'watching TV' you thought of all the ways Dominik would come into the house. Would he throw the door open and sit on the couch beside you? Maybe even pull you into his lap? Or would he be shy? Maybe he would see you in different clothes and think you changed your mind and he would just ignore what happened before. But you didn't have much time to think any longer, Dominik walked through the door. His hair was partially wet and his cheeks were light pink like he was flustered. You stood up instantly from the couch at the sound of him entering and thank god you did, he looked good.

He changed out of his gear and now he's in a simple tee shirt and gray sweatpants, the bulge of his hard cock making a prominent print for you to see. Despite the flush in his cheeks, he looks confident and feverish as if he was going to grab you the moment he got close. You swallow and try to collect yourself, you switch the TV off and you walk around the couch, slipping into the kitchen while talking to Dominik. The door clicked shut and you smiled a bit to yourself, hoping to rile him up as much as possible. "You hungry babe?", you call out to him, hearing his steps follow you into the kitchen.

You've opened the fridge but you bent over by the waist, just waiting for Dominik to answer you. You gasp when his hands grip your waist from behind. You stand up completely, turning around to face him, not thinking clearly enough to close the fridge. Dominik reaches behind you and closes the fridge door only to push your back against it, one leg slotted between yours helping you move backward. Your breathing is labored and Dominik's muscles are tensing from beneath his shirt. "Yeah, I think I'm hungry", the pad of my thumb presses against the bottom of your lip, just barely drawing a soft gasp from you.

Dominik swallows down his own groan of pleasure just by the small trickle of your moans. Then there was a blaring ring from your phone, your eyes glanced to the phone on the counter to Dominik who was staring right back at you. You both let it ring, succumbing to the feeling of being so close to each other. But you can't ignore the annoying rings a second time. Dominik steps back a bit to let you reach around to grab the phone, but the moment you do he steps back. Not wanting to be far from you.

"Hello?", you try to stop the pants in your voice. "Hey! We all tried to call Dom but he didn't answer. Can you remind him that you both are expected at dinner?", you completely forgot. "Uhh yeah, be there in 30 minutes", you hang up the phone and place it back on the counter. You look up at Dominik who looks frustrated from the call, he was close enough to hear and he's smart enough to know this wasn't a dinner he could miss.

"I have to run home and change. Pick you up in 15?", he asks while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You simply nod up at him, rising to kiss his lips deeply. Dominik's hand nestled into your hair, pushing your head further towards him, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth. You both pull back and stand there for another moment, probably considering the best ways to get out of this dinner. Alas, there was no way, Dominik left to get changed and you did the same. You slipped into a short black dress, classy enough for a group dinner such as this one.

Your heels click against the driveway when you slip into the passenger seat of his car. Dominik eyes trailed down every inch of your body he could manage in a few seconds. You watch the way he shifts his hips in discomfort and his grip on the wheel only tightens.

You see the scowl on his face, from being cock blocked your sure but you can’t help but tease. “What’s wrong baby?”, you ask while letting your hand slide up and down his thigh. His face screws up at the feeling of your hand getting closer to cock, your touch only making the throbbing worse. “Fuck” he starts to shift again, “Stop touching it” he grabs your hand in his.

You smile turning your head to look away from him to feign innocence. Once he lets go of your hand you simply squeeze his thigh, turning to give him a cute smile that he can’t deny. He smiles back at you quickly before turning his attention back to the road, finally letting himself just barely relax. He parks the car and hops out quickly to open the door for you.

You walk in front of him for a moment the sway of your hips making Dominik curse from being denied. He catches up to you, standing by your side with one of his hands slipping down to grab your ass. You gasp pretending to be surprised, “Well you’re no gentleman”. He moves his arm to drape across your waist instead, only moving it to open the door for you again.

You both sit at the dinner table, surrounded by the rest of The Judgement Day. Dominik is to the right of you, occasionally joining the conversation but mainly opting to watch you sip on your wine. Food comes out but Dominik can barely touch his food, his thoughts of you distracting him from the meal. You notice that he hasn’t touched his food and you can’t help but bump your knee with his in order to get his attention. “Are you going to eat?” You whisper whilst pointing at his food. His hand moves to grab your thigh like you did to him in the car, he leans down a bit to whisper in your ear. “I’d rather taste you”, he says casually before sitting back up and taking a drink out of his glass.

You feel your cheeks getting redder and in that moment you knew you couldn’t let him beat you at your own game. You push his hand off your leg, instead opting to put your hand on the metal of his belt. Dominik sputters into his drink, and everyone at the table looks at him in concern, while some just laugh. Dominik waves everyone off trying to look normal.

Then your hand slid further down, cupping the print of his dick, letting your hand run down his pant leg from where his cock is hard and had to be positioned down his leg. Your thumb brushes over the tip and Dominik shutters out a restrained groan. “Please let’s go” he can barely take it anymore. You don’t stop rubbing him only whispering back to him for a moment, “You need to wait”. His eyes are squeezed shut and one of his hands is covering his mouth. “You okay lad?”, Finn asks from the seat in front of Dominik. Dominik just nods forgetting to speak, you let up allowing him to get out of the haze.

Dominik clears his throat, “Actually can we be excused? I’m not feeling great”, he says before standing up and taking you with him. Dominik opens the door for you and lets it slam behind him, you think he’s genuinely mad. But the second he gets in the driver's side his hand clasps around your throat, pulling you to his lips where his tongue slips inside your mouth. Mouths sliding against each other and when he pulls back your lips are slightly swollen from the pressure.

He pulls out of the parking lot the drive back is quiet until you get home. The tension was unbearable, you’ve been wanting this for weeks, and now that the moment is so close you can’t help but overthink. You step inside your house and you wait for the door to click shut before you turn around and tell Dominik that he doesn’t have to do this. "I don't want to pressure you-", you've turned halfway before you are pushed back by the shoulder, and now your back is now pressed comfortably against the wall by the door. Dominik's look stops your rambling before it has even begun, he looks so sure and tense with the need to touch all over you. He wets his lips, craning his head close to yours, his body practically hunched in order to manage your height.

"Is there something you want to ask me?" he looks you up and down again not even trying to suppress his smirk, "something you need?". This was the last thing you were expecting, you had hopes he would just take you right then and there instead of making you say it for him. "We've never...well we uh...I want you to, you know..", Dominik could've listened to your confusing rambles for hours if it wasn't for the near-painful hard-on he had. His hands found the side of your face, pulling you to him and taking your lips against his. The kiss was feverish and hot, only pulled back for a split second just to come back to his soft lips. You feel the passion between the touch, his tongue slotting into your mouth, and when he pulls back that graze of his teeth that has always driven you mad.

You break first, letting your hands fumble with the belt of your pants, instantly working to tug them down. Dominik has no problem with helping you, he moves to kiss down your neck while both yours and his hands work to take off his clothes. Dominik's kisses work down the expanse of your neck and to your chest that became exposed the second bottom could peel it off of you. You both are only left in underwear which only shows the need of the moment. In an instant Dominik hoists you up off the ground, forcing your legs to wrap around your waist so he could walk you to the bedroom.

You both sink into the bed, Dominik on top of you holding himself up just enough to lavish your body with kisses. Urged on by the tug of his hair. He pushes your thighs apart, stopping at the thin cotton of your panties, he looks up at you sexily disheveled, "Do you want this?", he rasps out. He can't stop his eyes from glancing down at the damp spot in your purple cotton lace panties. You nod; only to gasp out an answer, "I've been waiting for weeks", you confess shuffling your body further down the bed towards him.

"Let's make this quick then, hmm?", his tongue laid flat against the fabric of your panties, the fabric sticking to his tongue and you can feel the brush against your aching clit. He sucks on the damp spot, just barely tasting your arousal but still groaning at the sweet taste. He slides them down your legs, tossing them away and he brings your legs over his shoulders. His chest is pressed to the bed and his mouth is centimeters away from your pussy, his eyes are wide and wild like he can't decide what to do first. You clench your thighs around him, tugging on his hair to make him look up at you. "Please don't make me wait any longer", you all but pant and plead with him.

He bites his bottom lip for a second, finally deciding what he would do, and the moment his mouth attaches to your clit you choke out a moan. His tongue slides through the folds of your pussy, all the juices getting lapped up on his tongue. It was so messy coating his chin and the bottom half of his face just the way he wanted it to. The firm pressure of his soft lips on you brought you so many different types of pleasure making your mouth fall open with high moans that only Dominik had the pleasure of hearing. Just when you thought it couldn't get any better Dominik slips a finger inside of you, making you loosen up and accept all the feeling he was giving you. It was so easy Dominik couldn't help slipping another one of his fingers inside of you, groaning at the way you suck him in and soak his fingers.

"Fuck mami, you're dripping onto the bed", he says in surprise and lusting his cock so unbelievably hard he couldn't stop his hips from rutting against the bed. You squeeze around his fingers making him laugh at the effect he has on you. He pulls his fingers out, sitting up on his knees and pulling his boxers off completely, his cock bobbing. He licked the slick off his fingers, moaning at the taste again; it was the best thing he'd ever had in his life. You toss your head back at the sight, your legs already shaking from having to wait, your body is getting restless. "Dom please baby", you reach for his arm, squeezing the firm muscle.

He wastes no time now, lining up and quickly sinking into you. Both of you bottom out with a string of a long moan. It feels so good Dominik couldn't stay still inside of you for long, his cock thrusts in and out of you smoothly, brushing against the walls of your pussy so perfectly. "Fuuuck angel, such a perfect pussy", his head falls forward and his hair frames his face, his adams' apple bobbing as he swallows his shallow moans. He hears the desperation in your moans and he speeds up his pace, his cock pushing in and out of you, your walls squeezing around him tightly only making his cock feel so much larger inside of you.

"If you keep squeezing me I won't be able to last-", he pants smacking the plush of your ass, trying to control himself the best he can. You can't register what he's saying only moaning, your hand sliding down your body to rub your clit in fast circles. And that only feels so much better your body reacts, pulsing around his cock, "Mami..mami" he whines with a broken voice. You gasp out a moan, and finally, that feeling of pulsing pleasure flows through you, "Dom Im gonna cum, imgonnacum", you nearly yell when you toss your head back for the third time, your fingers barely able to continue circling your clit. Dominik pushes your hands away and spits on your clit, rubbing it as quickly as he can pushing you over the edge.

Your body tenses and throbs at the intense pleasure and Dominik can finally cum knowing you already have. His hips stutter from inside, "God you drive me crazy" he pants when he finishes. He smiles as he says it as if that was the only thing he desires in the whole world. He lays his head on your chest, both of you are panting from exhaustion and your body is coated in sweat. But in that moment it felt like your heart could simply explode, nothing felt better than him.

#dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio x reader #dominik mysterio fanfiction #dominik mysterio x you #dominik mysterio fluff #dominik my bbg #dom dom #dominik mysterio smut #dominik mysterio x reader smut #wwe #monday night raw #wwe smut #the judgement day #dom smut #wwe dominik mysterio

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noirvette · 1 year

Text

main 3! gaming headcanons!!

i missed kennys birthday because of my college classes wtf happy belated bday to kenny

a little off topic for the post but ive been playing around with the idea of making a band smau (after hours by 777bambi is so good every update got me at the edge of my seat) and ive primarily been focusing on that as of late so my next few posts might just be headcanons

Stan, Kyle, and Kenny and gaming with their s/o!! cw: implied nsfw on kenny's part

♡ STAN MARSH

Thinks it's great to game together, an easy way for you guys to bond and have fun!!

He kind of likes the more nostalgic games, like super mario bros for the wii (this made me look up the game to confirm it's age and it was made in 2009 wtf??)

Let's you be player 1 but the catch is that he gets to be luigi

Stan prefers playing games on the wii (and switch) and or the ps4/ps5. He's a console kind of guy.

Prefers playing video games at your house and he'll even bring the necessary consoles over if needed just because if his dad sees you two playing he's going to whine to Stan about joining in.

Aside from nostalgic games he's also an action game multiplayer fan, lot of games he has is stylized to be fit for multiple people, so think of games like "It Takes Two" or even the multiplayer parts of Pokemon SWSH / Pokemon SV.

If you're a more single player kind of person, he definitely doesn't mind watching you play while cuddling. Would probably fall asleep watching you play.

I could see him playing Stardew Valley co-op with you if you convince him, but doesn't enjoy the whole farming thing too much

He marries Abigail in retaliation for making him play it with you. (Marry Shane and he will IMMEDIATELY divorce Abigail and beg you to marry him)

He still definitely plays multiplayer pc games with his friends, but sees no real joy in playing it by himself (think like valorant or league)

HOWEVER, if you want to play those games with him? Total tryhard but the really bad kind of tryhard.

Considering he only plays these games with Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman and doesn't play it on his own time he kinda sucks lol.

Screams "YOU'RE BAD" into his mic when he actually downs someone. Screams "WHAT THE FUCK" if he gets downed that Sharon comes in running like "Stan are you okay?!"

He gets so frustrated when he dies that he starts literally pouting. Let him get the final kill if it's just you two against one.

Insta-locks on Sage just to heal you only in game

"Sage heal? Sage heal?" -your poor other teammates

You carry him in these games tbh.

♡ KYLE BROFLOVSKI

Unlike Stan, Kyle loves games like valorant, league, etc. He gets to let out his rage easily by winning

When he loses everyone in South Park knows, he's so mad. However he rarely loses so South Park is safe.

Out of his friends he's for sure got the most amount of kills and wins.

Screams "LETS GOOOOO" when he wins LMFAO. Then gives you a victory kiss.

FPS games is Kyle's specialty. He's def an omen main or something.

If FPS isn't your thing or if you're not good at it Kyle gets it. If you're willing he'll show you how to play (and how to get good fast) however just don't play with him, if you're lagging behind (even if you're new) he's so annoyed, but never mad.

Is willing to play other games with you 100%. Also thinks it's great to game together, even if your guys' gaming genres don't match he's willing to play what you like.

Mario Kart is your guys' go to. You always win against him which leaves Kyle in shock so he often demands rematches.

Ike joins with you guys sometimes and you both initially let Ike win. Ike gets mad though because he wants you both to play equally with him, so when you play fairly he still wins because Ike is just that guy.

Kyle is more of a pc gamer than anything, but if console is up to bat he's an xbox guy. Still is a fps guy on console but it's all single player.

HATES fortnite lol. Doesn't get the hype over it at all, he thinks the mechanics are stupid and won't play it. Might if you beg him to but.. you so owe him.

Is more of the guy that prefers you to watch as he plays, however has no issue if you want to take over playing and he watches, he makes you guys snacks to have while you play.

Avid minecrafter tbh, played it mainly for Ike but then got addicted. So now he makes you play it with him too. He's definitely the "miner". Goes all out on making sure you both have the best armor and weapons. Has a shit ton of diamonds so he made you a diamond shovel for the hell of it even though it's a dumb thing to waste diamonds on. Made you a pink wool heart behind your house when you were gone.

Also an avid tile matcher (think candy crush), begs you constantly for lives. Please give him lives he gives the MEANEST puppy dog eyes.

♡ KENNY MCCORMICK

AVID HORROR GAME ENJOYER LOL

Literally any type of horror game is his go to game. Also likes those RPG horror games (think like ib, the witch's house, misao)

Sets you up by saving right before a jumpscare and then has you come over to play it with him and then you get to experience the jumpscare.

Late night horror game playing with Kenny <3 where you two just play roblox horror games all night, sometimes he puts in the comedic horror ones just so you guys can laugh at how bad it is.

He borrowed Outlast from Cartman to play on your console and you still have nightmares.

"Don't worry baby, nothing can get you when I'm here!" "What if you're NOT here though :(" and then cue him as Mysterion for the next 3 weeks to protect you.

Demands to be princess peach or rosalina in any mario game you guys play. If only one of them is an option and you take that character he will refuse to talk to you until you give up the character

Is also another minecraft enjoyer but likes scaring you with Herobrine LOL and that one scary jukebox disc.

"(Y/N)...." "What Ken?" "Herobrine is outside our door rn" (Y/N) left the game

He also likes watching you play games. Lays down with his head in your lap watching you play.

Kenny prefers multiplayer games that aren't limited to just two players only multiplayer. Only because Karen can play the game with you two then.

If you do happen to playing a two player only multiplayer game and Karen wants to join he lets her take over for him.

Kenny also loves puzzle like games (think like escape room games or keep talking and no one explodes).

Really he just loves seeing your face get all frustrated when playing these kinds of games. He rarely gets frustrated with things like these because he manages to somehow always figure it out, but doesn't say anything just to watch you get annoyed.

If you start getting really frustrated at the game and he notices, he does one of three things; he takes the controller or your phone away and turns on a new game, he actually solves it to spare your sanity, or he saves the game and helps take your mind off of the game and onto something else.

#stan marsh #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh headcanons #kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski headcanons #kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick headcanons #south park #south park x reader #fluff

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polisena-art · 3 months

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I've always wanted to ask since it's never definite and changes based on adaption, but what's your preference for Panchito's last name? Pistoles? Romero Miguel Francisco Quintero Gonzalez III? No last name at all? Some combination like Pistoles being a stage name? If he lived with José in Rio long enough could he eventually adopt Carioca? It seems to differ for everyone which is one of the cool fandom things

HI! SO- I can safely say I don't consider Panchito's surname to be "Pistoles". To me, that's his stage name and an American stage name at that!! Getting a little meta for a bit here, the name "Pistoles" was chosen for the character simply because it was easier for the American audience to pronounce it with an "e" instead of the original "a" in the spanish word for "pistols". So, going back in universe, imagine that in the 1940s when the Three Caballeros commissioned a small series of posters with the little money they had, they all came with a typo in Panchito's name because of the language barrier/miscommunication with the print shop. But in the end Panchito kinda digged that XDDD "NO, LEAVE IT IN!!! It makes it new and exciting, guys!!!" Paco might say, upbeat and always seeing the bright side of every situation. I like to imagine that his nickname in his hometown and stage name in México was "Panchito Pistolas" and just "Panchito" for family and friends. As for his actual surname I really dig the House of Mouse version, (Panchito Romero Miguel Junípero Francisco Quintero González Tercero) even if it means he would be Francisco twice XD, tbh not the weirdest naming decision to happen in latin america by far...

AS FOR JOSÉ!!! Well, first, I don't think that either one of them would adopt any of each others' surnames (but this is my own bias because I kinda hate the whole changing names for marriage and the burocracy it entails-) Also I'm in the fence whether to consider "Carioca" to be José's real surname or not. This is very much me overanalyzing the character but we are in the "overanalyzing stupid characters website" so whatever- The thing with José is that, here in Brazil, "Zé Carioca" reads simply as a very descriptive nickname meaning "guy from Rio". Reason why I can totally see it being just a nickname that later got turned into a stage name for him. So, it also doesn't make sense to me for Panchito to have it in his name, that Bitch (affectionate) isn't carioca! But anyways, just to clarify, can "Carioca" be a surname? Yes, absolutely!! It is, in fact, a surname that exists in Brazil although it's not a very popular one. But when you consider the character's history and also Zé's cousins (the joke with them being that each has a regional name after "Zé" indicating where they are from), the idea you get is that Carioca is not a family name but a label. The comics have also shown us some of Zé's relatives that could indicate what other alternative surnames he may have but, mind you, none of this means that Zé would have inherited these particular surnames! So we're still in headcanon valley here. First, there are Zé's two grandads: Zé Paiva (or Zeca Paiva) and Josué Carioca. We don't know which one is from mother's side or father's side tho. And later there are more relatives, including two grandmas, one from the Dutch comics, Oma Carioca (aka vovó Carioca), and the other from a recent Culturama release, Isaura Araripe. Once again we don't know which one represents the mother's side and which represents the father's side. In the Culturama special story tho, José's family, including himself, identify as "Araripe" (a real surname but also a play on the word "arara" meaning "macaw" in portuguese).

So, we coooould make Zé Carioca's registry name be any mix of these like "José Araripe Carioca" or "José Paiva Araripe" OR "José Carioca Araripe" OR "José Paiva Carioca" OOOOR if you're a fan of long names "José Carioca Araripe Paiva". The mother's family name comes first in Brazil but since we don't know which one that would be, you can pick and choose to your heart's content. I said all that BUT I'm also a big fan of the "descriptive" nature of "José Carioca" as a name for the character, because it almost grants him a kind of anonimity. There are millions of Zés in Brazil and millions of cariocas (in relation to place of birth) too. Which makes him LITERALLY JUST A GUY!!! Just a little guy commiting scams all around and nobody fucking knows his real name-- A REAL POWER MOVE in my opinion. That said, I would also find it very funny if he had the most WIDELY USED Brazilian surname and ONLY THAT, making him "José Silva" or "José da Silva", so he could maintain that "generic guy" energy in his registry name as well.

#I think Zé should have “Silva” in his name so he could really be the QUINTESSENTIAL Brazilian little guy #I also looove to headcanon zé as an orphan so imagine if he grows up not even being sure of what his actual surnames were #he gets a state provided one IF THAT and it's Silva #because in the 40s there were people going around w no surnames no registry no nothing #sadly invisible to the government #the three caballeros #josé carioca #panchito pistoles #text post #ask #anonymous

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lovely-lying-loveable-liar · 5 months

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hi! i love ur writing, i’ve also never requested anything before so if this is ass, ignore it lmao

Hasan fluff/smut request! where reader (she/her) has just been having a really bad day, like everything is going wrong and frustrating her, so she joins hasan during the end of his stream and talks to chat and then after he ends his stream he decides he wants to make her feel better *wink wink* by making the rest of the night about her and just loving on her.

thank u!! i also don’t know if u do emoji anons but if u do can i be 🪩?

Before we get into this, this ask was from back in SEPTEMBER so to this anon, I am so sorry I didn't get to this sooner, and hopefully you have stuck around to see it! (I also can't see that emoji, so if you wanna send another request to be a diff emoji then that'd be great <3)

You were having a REALLY bad day.

Really bad.

You tripped on the way to work

Everyone was either rude or just passive aggressive

Your work load was the hardest you've ever had

Your uber dropped you ten minutes away from your house, so it wasn't even worth it getting one

And your key card for the gates to your community didn't work so you had to climb the fence which DEFINITELY made your new neighbors wary that you could be an intruder.

Stumbling through the door, you heard Hasan's belly-laughter which instantly pulled some weight off your shoulders.

Dropping all your stuff on the way to his office, you gently knock on the sliding glass doors before entering.

"Hey! Look who's here, chat! If it isn't my favourite girl!"

"How was your day, sweetheart?"

"Fucking... shit."

"Really? That sucks, why don't you come join me for the rest of the stream and we'll see if we can cheer you up, yeah?"

You guys hosted a relatively cozy stream, he got up to make you some coco while you talked to chat, and y'all just talked, answered some questions and played some Stardew Valley!

Soon, the stream came to an end.

But your night didn't.

Hasan followed behind you as you guys went to your bedroom

And patiently waited as you got ready for bed

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really..."

"You wanna fuck?"

"Yeah..."

He obviously knows you don't wanna *fuck*

So, he goes slow

Gets romantic

Puts some music on, lights a candle, and straps in for a loooooong night

He lays you down on the center of the bed and makes, basically, a nest of blankets and pillows around you

He wants you to feel safe!

Makes you forget all about your day

Takes his time with you

You stay mainly in missionary

He'll eeeeeeeat you out

Stays down there for a whiiiiile

Cracks some jokes every now and again

Shaky legs <3

#hasanabi x reader #hasanabi smut #hasan piker smut #hasan piker x reader #this ask is from ages ago :(

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theroseredreaper · 9 months

Note

Could I get an autistic coded reader with autistic coded malleus (or sebek if you'd rather)

Yes, you can! I’m sorry that it took so long to get to your request!

Autistic-coded Malleus with an Autistic-Coded Reader

You and Malleus get along like a house on fire. The two of you could get lost in conversation for hours on end, talking of everything and anything that caught your or his attention. It didn’t matter if had no idea what he was speaking of, nor if he knew what you spoke of either. The simple joy each of you saw in each other’s faces was more than enough for each of you to be filled with the desire to hear *more*, to greedily eat up the tenderest of expressions, the excitement that special interests brought, the energy that passionate discussions in the dead of night brought.

Long walks that happened well past curfew, when campus was quiet and the buzz of a school in operation couldn’t overload your senses, was time set aside just for the two of you. This routine had settled into being part of your daily life at Night Raven College, something that had become sacred between you and Malleus.

“Prefect,” was how he’d greet you each time, with an incline of his head, voice a soft murmur. Each time he’d off you his arm and you’d take his hand or grab onto the cuff of his blazer sleeve, depending on how much direct touch bothered you that day. On days when speaking cost you too much labor, your throat clamped up with the exhaustion of the day, he’d speak enough for the both of you, leading you on the usual circuit around campus.

He always felt warm and sheltered in these moments with you, the world seeming to contain only the two of you under the light of the stars and dimmed school buildings. Sheltered by the knowledge that you always listened, even on days when you didn’t utter a word. You spoke loud enough without ever opening your mouth: the glitter of excitement in your eyes when he told you about his latest research, the way your lips would tug into a smile when he told you about new gargoyles, how you would squeeze his fingers when he remembered something you had told him. He always remembered everything you told him. Spoken and unspoken.

On days you had more than enough energy to spare regaling him with tales of your adventures around NRC, the two of you would sit in Ramshackle’s living room, and he’d drink in your every word. His eyes would be focused on you the whole while, contently taking in your every expression, endeared with every raise in volume your excitement brought as you talked. And when you’d laughed, unguarded, at him for being so focused on you, he’d take the teasing in stride. He’d tease you in turn when you would play with his fingers, fidget with the cuffs on his clothes instead of your own. Luxuriating in the feeling of home, of someone he could be with, without preconceptions, without misunderstandings, with masking.

Bonus Content: Autistic Malleus Headcanons

- His difficulties understanding social cues was exasperated by the triple threat of his isolated upbringing, his severely limited knowledge of modern human society, and the image that everyone has of him as the lil-powerful crown prince of Briar Valley.

- The ones who understand Malleus’s cues and habits best are Lilia and Silver. Due to Malleus’s position as crown prince and the expectations of this role upon him, however, Malleus still finds himself unable to really be his full self around them and maintains a certain facade around them too.

- The first person that Malleus fully feels comfortable being his full self around is you, the player from the game. You truly understand him and listen to him. You had no preconceptions to place upon him.

- The autistic traits that affect Malleus the most are fixation, rigidity, and social difficulty.

- Due to the expectations of crown prince placed upon him and the perceptions placed upon him by others as a powerful, regal figure, no one but you, the player from the game, realize how difficult it is for Malleus to socialize or adjust his steadfast beliefs.

(A/N): Since autism is a spectrum of traits unique to every autistic person, I ended up basing the reader’s autistic traits on how I personally experience autism. Hope that’s okay!

#twst x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #twst malleus x reader #malleus headcanons #twst headcanons #twst malleus headcanons #twst malleus draconia x reader

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shhh-secret-time · 24 days

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Star Park AU: Stan Marsh Edition

-> Lives on Tegridy Farms with his family. His dad sold their house and moved them out to the valley when Stan was ten. (They're essentially where Marnie is in game.)

-> Sparky is still alive but he's getting older, so he sticks to laying on the porch waiting for Stan to get back

-> Plays football with Clyde, Craig, and Tolkien! Kenny and Cartman will join in sometimes and he practically drags Kyle out to join them.

-> He works for Joja Mart with his sister. They'd both rather work there than be near their dad.

》 He's saving up to move back to the city, or so he says. Truth be told he can't leave behind Sparky or his Mom.

-> He bought his own chicken coop and has a few chickens of his own.

-> He goes to the saloon every night, most nights by himself

-> But on Fridays, after Jimmy's comedy act, him and his band will play!

-> On Sundays when everyone else is in church or doing their own thing. Stan and Kyle will go up to the summit past the railroad tracks and spend hours up there. Catching up and just unwinding.

-> He probably has a mini event that's kind of like Sam's 2 heart event, where he asks the Farmer what type of music they like.

Gift Guide:

Loves: Pizza, Survival Burger, Book of Mysteries, Frozen Tears, Beer (This changes after Heart Event 6)

Likes: Joja Cola, Apples, All Eggs, Void Esscene, Large Milk

Neutral: All Fruit (Except Apples), Coffee, Peppers

Dislikes: Fertilizer, Daffodil, Any Fish, Pink Cake

Hates: Rabbit Foot, Coleslaw, Clay, Beer (After Heart Event 6)

Loved: "Dude! Are you sure?! Man this rules!"

Liked: "Oh, uh thanks! Should I get you something back?"

Neutral: "Cool, I'll find a use for it."

Disliked: "What...is this? Why?"

Hated: "What the fuck were you thinking?"

Given any alcohol after Heart Event 6: "Why would you give me this?! You know I'm trying to stop!"

Heart Event @ 2:

Stan is throwing empty beer bottles at the passing train, they shatter just as the Farmer approaches him. He looks back at them with a grin offering one for them to throw. He mentions that he was drinking with his friend Kenny but he had to go, so now he's just passing time. He's not quite drunk yet but he's tipsy. When the Farmer takes the bottle and throws it he relaxes a little, says that he's glad they're not put off by the behavior. After a little bit of silence, he asks them why they moved to the Valley. There's not a lot of money in farming and then makes a comment about how he fucking hates it. How he feels isolated from the rest of the town sometimes.

-> Feels that way sometimes doesn't it? But at least you have your friends (+)

-> You're literally closer to town than I am, don't your friends come to visit you? (-)

If First Option: He mulls it over and decides you're right. He should he grateful he at least has them. Though lately it feels like they're drifting apart. Stan comments how you must feel lonely being new to town and all.

"Oh well. I guess we can be lonely losers together. Farmer buddies and all that."

If Second Option: Stan doesn't really appreciate the sass. He wasn't looking for a pity party, just wanted to kinda vent. He makes note not to talk about it again.

"Yeah sure. I guess, but you didn't have to be a dick about it."

Heart Event @ 4:

Stan and his friends are playing pool at the tavern, a rare instance where they're all off work and finally get to hang out. He leans over the pool table and sinks another ball, much to Kyle's annoyance. As the Farmer comes in Cartman makes a comment that Kyle is getting his ass kicked and bad. It prompts Kyle to snap at him and shake the pool cue at him. Kenny and Stan laugh a little before Stan realizes you're there. He smiles and gestures for you to come over! Now that you're here they have enough for teams. Farmer is confused because there's already four of them, they make five. Stan whispers in their ear, explaining that Cartman won't play with Kyle anymore. He lost one time and now he's convinced that Kyle cheated. Something about how there's no way Kyle would ever actually win a game fair and square. When you agree he gets excited and before anyone else gets the chance he announces that you'll be on his team!

"Awesome! We're gonna smoke these guys! Kenny wrack 'em! Farmer is with me!"

⚠️ TW: Attempted suicide ahead ⚠️

Heart Event @ 6:

Stan's drinking again. Right next to the railroad tracks but this time he's got one foot on the railroad, rocking back and forth. There's glass bottles around him, unbroken and too many to count. He almost stumbles down to the ground but he keeps himself up. Farmer approaches and that's when they hear the sound of the train coming in, and it's coming fast. Stan had no intentions on moving, in fact he looks like he's about to fall forward willingly. The dead look in his eyes tells them that much. Farmer runs across the field and tackles him into the ground, the train narrowly missing the both of them. Stan lays there having just had the wind knocked out of him. His head is spinning and he feels sick, but he also feels the Farmer on his chest and his back against the ground. He's not dead. Then it hits him, you almost died to save him. You who's kept talking to him despite everything, even when he was being an ass.

"You....you could have gotten yourself killed why would you do that?"

-> I couldn't just stand there and watch you die Stan!

-> Are you crazy?! You almost got us both killed!

-> I don't know...my legs just moved on their own.

-> (Just hug him)

If First Option: Stan starts crying and presses his palms into his eyes. He lays there and sobs, but he feels safe enough to do it.

"Hey Farmer...hic...can you help me to Kyle. I'm scared."

If Second Option: He grits his teeth and digs his hand into the dirt. Stan knows what he did was crazy, he can't be mad at you for snapping like that. You just saved his life. But he didn't ask you to.

"Fuck...I know. Look, just help me get to Kyle. I think I'm gonna be sick."

If Third Option: Stan doesn't know what to say but he thinks he gets it. He just closes his eyes and tries to stop the dizzy ride his drunken state is on. He doesn't want to move but he can't just lay here all day.

"Do you think Kyle is gonna yell at me...if I show up looking like this? Maybe if I just go to sleep I won't have to think about it."

If Fourth Option: Stan freezes he wasn't expecting the Farmer to do that. They should be angry with him, furious. But they're hugging him and clinging to him for dear life. His life. Stan wraps his arms around them and starts to cry. It's the most vulnerable he's been with anyone in a long time.

"Shit...fuck dude...just please don't let me go. I don't wanna go. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Heart Event @ 8:

It's early morning when the Farmer steps out, they're greeted with the sound of music. Stan is sitting on their porch playing his old guitar, the acoustic one that's seen better days. When the Farmer gets closer he looks up at them for a moment, unable to look them in the eye for too long. After a moment of silence, he tells them that Kyle got it out of storage for him. Says it'll help him focus on something other than the withdrawals and that Kyle put him in contact with a therapist. He thanks the Farmer for saving his life, and apologizes that they had to see that. As he plays a somber tune again he makes a comment, this is the first time he's been on their farm. First time he's been out this way since they moved into the valley. He confesses that your farm is a lot nicer than his dad's and that maybe farming isn't so bad. Farmer sits beside him and he quietly continues playing, they've never heard him play this song before.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry I've been a jerk to you. You and Kyle shouldn't have to take care of me, but you did. You care and I should remember that. Sparky would have been really upset if I never came home. So thanks...for everything."

When given the bouquet:

"!! I don't understand why you'd choose me, but...I'm selfish and I want you all to myself. So I accept!"

Heart Event @ 10:

Stan is leading Farmer past the railroad tracks, he doesn't even seem bothered much anymore to be here. He leads them up the path that he's taken a thousand times. There he leads them to the summit, his favorite spot to be at. They sit together at the edge if the cliff with their legs dangling off the side. He admits to them that he liked coming up here a lot as a kid, when his dad and him would fight it was his little hiding spot. Then he brought Kyle and it became special. The days where he'd get stupid drunk he'd think about just falling forward like that day with the train. But it's because of those amazing memories with his best friend, he could never bring himself to do it. They're special and he wouldn't want to ruin them for Kyle. It's things like that, that remind him why he's alive. Things like you. He smiles at the Farmer and tells you this. Tells Farmer he wants to continue to make more memories with them so he has a reason. His hand inches closer to theirs, not quite touching. Before he can pull away, Farmer takes his hand and slides closer to him. They rest their head on his shoulder and look up towards the big illuminated moon that's in front of them. Stan wraps his arm around them and lays his cheek on top of their head.

"Every moment with you reminds me why I'm here. I'm not...perfect and I don't think I'll ever understand why you choose to stick around. But I meant what I said, I want you around me always. I can breath with you around."

Heart Event @ 14:

Stan's outside playing with Sparky and Farmer's pet, when he moved in he brought his beloved dog with him. Sparky seems to be getting better every day he's here and Stan couldn't be happier. Farmer walks up with hearts in their eyes, making him a little bashful. He rubs the back of his neck just as Sparky brings the ball back. He mentions that he really loved animals, and that he's always had a soft spot for them. Farmer questions him about his love for Survival Burgers, which he quickly points out that they're made of Cave Carrot NOT beef! After a little while of playing with the pets he sits in the field with them, looking over their hardwork. Stan turns red and starts ranting about how the last time he went to visit his dad, he started nagging him about grandkids. He's embarrassed because Randy has never mentioned it before and it makes him uncomfortable.

"He's such an ass! You'd think he'd stop trying to tell me how to live my life after I moved out. Why doesn't he bother Shelly with this?!"

-> He probably does. We don't have to have kids if you don't want them! I'm just happy you're here with me! Don't let him get to you!

-> Don't let your dad pressure you into anything you're not ready for. It's our relationship and we'll decide when and if we want kids. But if you're anything like you are with Sparky towards kids, I think you'd be a great dad!

If First Option: Stan grins and tells them they're right as always. He leans down and kisses the top of their head. Sparky walks over with the Farmer's pet and lays in their lap. Stan smirks and makes a comment about how they could just get another dog.

"Our farm is big enough for another one right? We could get one or two more puppies. They could help with the sheep and chickens! Help dig holes!"

If Second Option: Stan says he'll think on it. Later that night while Farmer is cleaning up the dishes and putting them away. Stan walks up behind them and wraps his arms around them. He murmurs in their ear that he's been doing nothing but thinking about what they said. The thought of starting a family with them is starting to sound appealing, plus it could be fun raising a mini them. He presses a kiss into their temple.

"You really think I'll make a good dad? I just don't wanna end up like mine...but if you're with me I think I could do it. And if they're anything like you, they'll be an amazing kid."

Random Marriage Quotes!!

"You looked really adorable asleep last night...you also drooled on my arm."

"Having a bad thought day...I might be a little off today. I'm sorry."

"Babe, you got dirt on your face. C'mere, let me clean it. Just let me take care of you butthead!"

"Sparky and I watered the crops today! How do you know how much to give them? I feel like I'm drowning them."

"Fed the animals! They're doing great! Would...you judge me if I took a nap out in the field with them?"

"Hey...real quick...I uh- I love you. I know I don't say it enough and I'm sorry, but I really do."

"Morning. Made you some pancakes! I stole the recipe from my mom! Why do you look scared?"

"Hey babe, I'm going to visit my parents today. Please feel free to come save me when you're done doing what you need to do."

"Are you coming to the tavern tonight? We're playing a new song tonight, I wrote it for you."

"You know, when I was a kid, when I got nervous, I'd throw up. You make me nervous sometimes but I- hey! I'm not going to puke on you, I'm not twelve. Get back here!"

Tag List: @hunnysnoops

#south park #sp fanfiction #south park fanfiction #reader insert #south park x reader #x reader #Stan Marsh #Stan Marsh x reader #Stan Marsh x Farmer #Stardew Valley #Star Park AU #headcanons #drabbles #shhh its a secret

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dreamofjoys · 1 year

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𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟒 ‒ 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 , 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞

scenario: lilia loves you. he dreams of starting a family with you, fantasizing about your belly that would be swollen with his kids. that dream soon turned into a nightmare when your family wed you to a wealthy man for the sake of politics. things became even more worst for lilia when he heard that you were pregnant. honestly, the war general should have taken you away from everyone at the beginning. now is not too late, right?

tw: cheating (reader cheats on husband), breastfeeding (to the baby but lilia is gonna suck on ur nipples so…), thigh grinding, mentions of pregnancy, reader abandons her baby

back to kinktober's 2022 masterlist

“shhhhhh, mummy is here. drink up, little one.” you cooed to the small bundle in your arms, bringing them close to your chest area as you breastfeed them.

it has only been a week since you gave birth to a baby girl, and the little one never fails to cry every night for milk. your newly wed husband doesn’t care, he only bother to settle the financial affair within the house, leaving all the other household workload to you.

your baby girl latches her lips onto your nipples, feeding herself to her heart's content with your breastmilk. you sighed, cradling her head closer to your chest as you thought about your new future.

your parents had decided to marry off to some wealthy men for the sake of politics. your husband is rich and provides every necessities for the family. however, he does not care about your mental well being. the only reason why the both of you had a child is because he wants other people to think that the both of you are happily in love with each other, which was false.

instead of falling in love with your husband, you had fell for a certain fae from briar valley. you could still remember how his lips would linger on your skin, whispering to your ears about the future he dream of having with you.

when your baby girl was done drinking, you placed her back to her crib, watching her small eyes closing and drifting into slumber. just as you are about to wear your bra again, a figure had appeared behind you, engulfing you into a hug as they lay their head on your back, basking in your scent and warmth.

"li-lilia?"

the fae hm in respond, hands travelling up to grope your breast as your shoulders relaxed, back onto him comfortably. "can we talk somewhere? my baby is asleep." magic gathers in the air, teleporting the both of you to one of the private guest room in the mansion.

before you knew it, you were pinned to the bed as lilia places one of his leg in between yours. his knee was rubbing onto your clothed sex as he stares at you with his deep ruby eyes.

"why?" lilia questioned, a sign of hurt flashes across his eyes. you turned your head away, a sign of guilt that you have been holding in for a long time.

"my parents forced me into this marriage. i don't love him at all, and neither does he. im sorry, lilia. i love you, and i still do. i know you won't forgive me but-" lilia shuts you up with a kiss. his lips melt onto yours, instantly reminding you of how many times the both of you had exchange kisses under the stars, promising to be together forever.

lilia breaks the kiss, lips wet from your saliva. "come with me, y/n." he said. "leave everything behind. come to briar valley, i will protect you. your family and that man won't be able to touch you. let me be your husband, and lets have kids of our own."

he lowers his head to your chest, giving your right nipple a kiss before fully devouring it into his mouth. lilia makes sure to swirl his tongue over your nipples, giving it kitten licks before sucking it like a newborn baby, drinking your leftover breastmilk. his left hand plays with your left nipple, occasionally flicking on it and giving your breast a huge squeeze, making the milk that was stored inside of your left breast to leak out.

lilia smiles when he could hear you moaning. you were subconsciously grinding your clothed sex onto his thigh, hands shooting forward to grip onto lilia's hair to pull him closer.

"lilia, more, please."

"of course, anything for you my dear."

it's quite safe to say that the both of you had a heated night and lilia had made sure to plant a baby inside you before the both of you depart for your humble home.

#twisted wonderland #lilia twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge #lilia headcanons #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twst lilia #lilia smut #fem reader #twst smut #kinktober 2022 #kinktober #dreamofjoyskinktober2022 #dreamofjoystwst

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asouefanworkevent · 7 months

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another fall is upon us! another woevember is coming!!

what is it?

woevember is an asoue fanwork event week, that will take place from november 12th through november 18th, 2023. last year there was a different group of characters each day, and this year, each day of the week is dedicated to a different location for a series of unfortunate events or all the wrong questions.

what do i do?

the prompts will be revealed now, so everyone has time to make something. between now and the week of november 12th, you’ll create fanworks about the prompts, and then post it on the corresponding day during november 12th - 18th!

don’t forget to tag this tumblr (asouefanworkevent) in the post so i can find it and reblog it, and tag the post with #woevember !

what do you mean by fanwork?

everything! fanfic and fanart are of course allowed, but woevember has always been meant to be an event that is as big or as little effort as you want! fanwork also means edits, gifs, analysis posts, headcanons!! your cosplay!! your photography!! your photosets!! your web weaving!! your super short fics!! your sketchiest drawings!! your most ramble-y half-fic idea posts!! your wip scenes!! you merely saying 'lemony snicket, though. am i right?????' (and you are. you're so right.) whatever you are moved to make from the prompts! i want people to be encouraged to and be able to create even something small that didn’t exist before for the snicketverse, and share it with other people!

are there any rules?

to keep the event open and comfortable for everyone, no explicit content. also, as always, sibling romance and age gaps will not be tolerated.

do i have to make something for every day?

only if you want to! feel free to just make something for one day if you want :) the point of having a different theme for each day is so some part of canon that you like comes up eventually, and you can at least make something for one of the days. or you get struck by an idea you might not have considered before! i want to get people thinking about all the intriguing people and places in asoue and atwq and the exciting different ways we can interpret and create from the same idea.

what are the prompts?

the description under each prompt is just some ideas to get your brain going -- feel free to take them in another direction too!

november 12th - olaf's mansion

to celebrate the 24th anniversary of the bad beginning! what becomes of the house post-canon? was it olaf's family home? what sort of nefarious, or, perhaps, completely innocent shenanigans have occurred here, pre-canon? does this house also have a secret passage somewhere?

november 13th - the baudelaire mansion

did beatrice and bertrand build the mansion? what sweet pre-canon moments have we missed with the baudelaire children and their parents? what visitors came there? do people still think the mansion remains are haunted post-canon? what sort of new home do the baudelaires make for themselves when they return to the city?

november 14th - the clusterous forest

the wild and lawless place. what was it before the water was removed? what sort of beach or shore was there? where did the water go? does it ever come back? what does lemony, or anyone else, find in there? does another train ever come through after the thistle of the valley? do the stain'd-by-the-sea crew ever go in to investigate it? what sort of rumors might be created about a place like the clusterous forest?

november 15th - the hotel denouement

the last safe place! is it vfd-owned, or denouement-owned? what happens down in the archives? are the archives ever found? what sort of firefighter or firestarter meetings have taken place here? what relationship might they have with the preludio hotel? what were the denouements up to at the hotel? what hotel, or what sort of home in general, might frank and ernest create for themselves post-canon, with dewey's absence?

november 16th - the masked ball

the duchess of winnipeg's masked balls have so much potential! what happened at that last one, where lemony tried to contact beatrice? when was that? what happened at past balls? what is the duchess's relationship with the parties? (whether the duchess is jacquelyn or r or jacquelyn is r's daughter is up to you, dear reader!) what costumes do they all pick! or is there even a different masked ball you might have in mind?

november 17th - the reptile room

to also celebrate the 24th anniversary of the reptile room! what becomes of this house post-canon? how did monty come to own the reptile room, where does his herpetology career fit into vfd? why was the quagmire mansion connected to it? how did jacques get there and find quigley? what other moments with the baudelaire children in the reptile room might we have missed -- or pre-canon moments with the baudelaire parents? do not forget about our beloved, the incredibly deadly viper!

november 18th - free space!

there's tons of other locations, too! prufrock prep, heimlich hospital, 667 dark avenue, paltryville, caligari carnival, the city, the punctilio, veblen hall, the orion observatory, the opera, the sewers, the hemlock tearoom and stationery shop, the museum of items, the museum of bad breakfast, the snicket mansion, the quagmire mansion, the island, the mortmain mountains, lucky smells lumbermill, wade academy, killdeer fields, anwhistle aquatics, the queequeg? or do you care not for locations! use the free space to write about the character or relationship or thought of your choosing!

if you have any questions about anything, feel free to drop me an ask or a message!

happy creating, and i hope to see lots of you november 12th-18th!! ✨

#asoue #a series of unfortunate events #atwq #all the wrong questions #lemony snicket #woevember #thought i would be posting this a little late but then i saw last year's post was on october 12th so lo and behold!#your mysterious moderator is AHEAD OF THE GAME!#someone called me that after wicked way exchange and it made me so thrilled. i AM your mysterious moderator. most of the time.#slightly worried that 'locations' are too vague or still just repeating last year but i am trying to spice it up!#while also trying to hit all options!

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pancakes4two · 1 year

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room for three

The one where you and Harry welcome a tiny new addition into your family.

PREVIEW:

“He’s getting so restless,” you laugh, watching the afternoon sun stream in through the windows as you turn towards Harry. The light illuminates the peaks and valleys of his face, softening his features. Here, in the quiet of your nursery, it’s easy to picture what the future would look like soon: the same golden sun peeking through the curtains as tiny feet putter across the hardwood floor, the sound of heavier, surer footsteps following close behind as Harry chases your son through the room, their matching giggles echoing in the space.

hi hi hi! hope everyone is doing well <3 haven’t written a long(er) piece like this in a minute so i wanted to do a dadrry one. please ignore the timezone inconsistencies in this... i tried my best LOL

MASTERLIST (read the ig blurb for this here!)

Saturday, late September.

It was getting to be that time of year when the days started and ended with a slight chill in the air, the fall breeze calling for wool cardigans and a pot of hot chai every morning. Your afternoons were getting slower and slower—at nine months pregnant, there was a frustrating amount of things you simply didn’t want to waste your precious energy on anymore—so most days consisted of you wobbling through the house tidying up until you inevitably got tired, and then you’d lay in bed and Harry would tend to you before he had to jet off for tour again.

Your shared London house was a bit of a nightmare these days, given that you and Harry were designing the nursery by yourselves. Empty boxes that used to hold furniture scattered the floor and baby clothes were draped haphazardly over the couch. Your due date was now only two weeks away, so lots of last-minute decorating was being done. Harry had decided yesterday, right after painting the nursery walls, that the shade of green you two had chosen didn’t end up looking the way he wanted it to. You tended to agree with him, so the two of you picked out a new color this morning, lighter this time, and started to redo the walls.

Harry apparently decided to take a break after three hours of painting, flopping down next to where you were currently laid on the floor. You had tapped out earlier when your back started to hurt. Your limbs were splayed across a fuzzy rug, and you had one hand resting atop of your stomach, feeling the small human inside of you kick every so often.

“I’m sure he is,” your boyfriend says, swiping his hand across his shirt and leaving a streak of sage green paint on the fabric. “We keep talking about this banger of a room, he probably can’t wait to come out and see it for himself.”

“Never describe this architectural masterpiece as a banger again,” you joke, raising a brow at Harry.

“I can call it whatever I want! I helped design this room too, you know,” Harry huffs, and the two of you settle into a comfortable silence for a while. Outside, a bird lands on the windowsill, its wings fluttering as it hops around. Harry shifts his body so that he’s closer to you, his eyes slowly scanning your features until they land on your hand, still resting delicately atop your stomach. He grabs your wrist and turns your hand towards him, lacing your fingers together.

“What if I’m away when it happens?” Harry says nervously, his brows furrowed. You can tell by the tension in his shoulders that this has been worrying him for a while, but he was too shy to bring it up to you until now.

“You took a whole week off around my due date,” you said reassuringly, squeezing his hand. “Yeah, he might end up coming a little earlier or later than we expected, but there’s nothing we can do about that, right? You can always get on a flight as soon as you find out I’m going into labor. And I wouldn’t be angry with you if you got here late, that’d be silly of me.”

“I’ll be all the way in LA, though,” was Harry’s response. He chewed on his lip, still looking a little nervous. “I’ll probably miss it if he doesn’t come during that week.”

“Hey,” you replied, smoothing over the knit in his brows with your thumb. “You took as much time off as you could. No use worrying about this now, I’m sure he’ll be a very punctual baby.”

Early October, one week later.

Clearly, you were wrong.

You were standing in the kitchen making dinner, the thought of giving birth not even on your mind when your water broke. Thankfully, your best friend was over that night, adamant on not leaving you alone in the house when you were so close to your due date. You had tried to brush her off over text that morning, but now you were incredibly grateful to yourself for not doing so.

“Call Jeff,” you said, frantically reaching into the pocket of your sweatshirt for your phone. You handed it to your friend, unlocking it quickly in the process. “Call Jeff and tell him it’s happening.”

“Okay,” your best friend replied, scrolling through your contacts and clicking on Jeff’s name. It rang only once before he picked up. She put the phone on speaker and placed it on the counter in front of you.

“Is it happening?” Jeff asked before she could even say anything, his voice cracking through the speaker.

“Yeah,” your friend said as you breathed through a contraction. “Her water broke just now. I’m taking her to the hospital. What time’s it in LA? Is H about to go on?”

“Fuck,” Jeff sighed. You could imagine perfectly what he looked like right now, pacing and rubbing his hand anxiously down his face.

“They’re wheeling him up now, it’s too late to cancel. He’s got a day of break between tonight’s show and the next one. Tell Y/N to hold on, I’ll get him a flight right after the show and we’ll meet you at the hospital.”

“Jeff,” you said through gritted teeth. “Don’t tell him it’s happening until he gets off stage. I don’t want him to worry while he’s out there.”

“Mhm. We’ll see you as soon as humanly possible. Call me if you need anything!”

Late evening, that day.

You were bouncing on a yoga ball in your hospital room when he texted you. A nurse had come in and checked on you a few hours earlier. She said you were only a few centimeters dilated, that you might have a long night ahead of you. When she asked where the father was, all you could do was sheepishly smile and say he was on the way. That was easier than having to explain that your baby’s father wasn’t in the hospital with you because he was in the middle of a sold-out residency in America. She’d brought in the ball and suggested that you try and move around on it to ease your anxiety and manage the pain of your contractions.

H ❤️ (5 unread)

You okay?

I’m coming right now. Flight leaves in 30 minutes.

Can’t believe this is happening.

I love you, you’re so strong.

And I can’t believe you lied and said he would be a punctual baby.

all good

in my defense, i really did think he was going to be on time

guess he just wanted to spite you

Heyyyyy.

Well, I’m glad you’re feeling alright.

What’s the ETA on my child?

nurse said probably not for another 12 hours

he’s waitin for his daddddd

I’m cutting it close!!! Tell him to waittttt!

Boarding now. I’ll be there so soon.

Love you the most.

i know, i know

see ya soon :)

Eleven hours later.

The door to your hospital room swung open with force, disturbing your best friend from where she was currently curled up asleep beside you.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Harry huffs out breathlessly, hands on his hips as he tries to steady his breath. His sunglasses are pushed up carelessly on his head, his curls a wild mess as he rushes to be by your side. “I made it, fucking hell.”

“Took you long enough,” you say jokingly. You think you probably look a mess right now. The contractions were getting more frequent, and you were pretty worn out, to be honest. You were sure your hair was sticking to your face, and your hospital gown bunched up in all sorts of places.“I’ve been bouncing on this ball for literal eternity.”

“Where’s Jeff?” you asked, letting yourself relax a bit as Harry began to massage your back. Your friend slips out of the room silently, happy to pass the responsibility to your baby’s father.

“Stood outside in manager mode. He’s handing out NDAs to the nurses and stuff,” Harry replied, “I got papped on the way here.”

“Okay. We’ll probably have to do a social media post later, then. Get ahead of it.” You sighed, but you understood. The internet had suspected your due date was soon, and the fact that Harry was currently on a very high-profile tour meant that more eyes were on him now than ever before. It was to be expected that someone would photograph him at the airport; you were sure those pictures of Harry Styles rushing off to tend to his pregnant girlfriend could be sold for a fortune.

“Don’t worry about that now,” Harry said, his voice full of comfort. You felt another contraction coming, stronger this time, burning through your abdomen and back. Harry noticed the shift in you immediately, getting up to hold your hand through the pain.

“Coming in,” Someone said from outside. The door to your room opened again, the same nurse from earlier walking in. She did a double-take when she noticed Harry standing next to you---clearly Jeff hadn’t gotten to her yet---and made a small noise of surprise.

“Hello,” Harry said calmly, pulling up a chair next to you so he could be closer.

"Mr. Styles,” The nurse hesitated, then seemed to steady herself and remained professional. “Did you just get in, then?”

"Harry’s just fine,” Harry laughs, endeared by the nurse’s reaction. “Flight landed an hour ago. I got here as fast as I could.”

“Perfect,” your nurse smiles, before walking up to you. “Just came here to check on a few things. It seems like your contractions are getting more frequent, so I want to see how dilated you are. If things are far enough along, we’ll call the doctor in and you can start pushing.”

You nodded along, not able to say much else through the sensation in your stomach. She lifted your gown, the fabric rustling underneath her touch.

“Y/N, you’re ready now,” the nurse smiles at you when she comes back up. “Let me guide you back to the bed and we’ll send the doctor in. Looks like he just wanted to wait until his dad got here!”

“Now?” you ask breathily, as the door shuts behind the nurse. “It’s happening now?”

“I’m right here, love,” Harry says, rubbing circles into your palm. Another contraction comes and you grip the sheets below you, mumbling in pain. Your OB-GYN walks in then and the rest is a blur. You remember being told to push and blindly doing so, your knuckles turning white as you put your entire body into giving birth to your child. You push and you push and squeeze your eyes shut until you hear the sound of him crying for air, and then you squint and see the nurse ask Harry if he wants to cut the umbilical cord. His hands hesitate around the surgical scissors and they correct him when he’s too gentle with the tool: he’s scared of hurting you. They assure him that you won’t feel a thing, and he cuts, and then your son is swaddled in a blanket. He’s wailing and reaching for you and the doctor places him in your arms. You feel Harry’s presence at your side, his arm wrapping protectively around you as the two of you look at your son for the first time.

“Congratulations,” the doctor says, and everything is over as soon as it started. The two of you are left alone in the room. Your son has quieted down now and is looking up at you curiously with big, brown eyes.

“He’s beautiful,” Harry whispers, kissing your forehead and then his. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“I can’t believe you still want to be with me after watching me do that,” you joke tiredly, cradling the baby in your arms. Harry moves the blanket to the side gently with his finger so you can see more of his face. There’s a tiny patch of hair at the top of his head, curling at the end already. You smile and think he couldn’t be any more perfect.

“What do you mean?” Harry says sincerely, “that was the hottest thing you could have ever done. Giving birth to my son. Fucking hell. I’m so fuckin’ obsessed with you.”

“Stop cursing in front of the baby!” You yell, using your head to poke at Harry since your hands weren’t free.

Harry gasps and immediately slaps a hand over his mouth, looking apologetic. You giggle at how seriously he’s taking the whole being a dad thing. How did you get so lucky?

“You know,” you start, watching as Harry extends a finger towards your son and tries to make him wrap his impossibly tiny hand around it. “I wonder if he’ll grow up to have a voice like yours. Look at those eyes and that hair. Looks like the spitting image of you already.”

Harry laughs at that, then shrugs. “Think he has your nose and lips, though.”

“What are we naming him?” You ask suddenly. The two of you had talked names before, but none of them really stuck. You’d decided that you would wait until he was born, both of you expecting that the right name would come to you once you actually saw him.

“We should say his name together on three,” Harry says. You nod and he starts counting. “One, two, three...”

“Beau!” The two of you exclaim together. You laugh happily in surprise and Harry’s nose crinkles with fondness, overjoyed that you both had settled on the same name.

“Beau,” you say softly, watching as your son stirs in your chest, his legs kicking gently like they had so many times before when you were still carrying him in your stomach. “He’s half of me and half of you.”

Harry smiles and smooths down your hair, gazing lovingly at Beau. “One perfect tiny human.”

TAGLIST: @crazygirlinthisworld @grapejuice-rry @b-reads-things @s8tellite @michellekstyles @vrittivsanghavi @alienorknight @flwrmuse

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fanfiction rec #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #dadrry

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ransprang · 17 days

Text

thank you for your request again @auryborealis we hope you like your match up :3

If anyone else would like a match up this is our kofi

Your Stardew valley match up is…

SEBASTIAN <3

Sfw

How you met: You were the new farmer in town and you were looking to make friends. Sam had invited you to his, Abigail and Sebastian’s weekly game night, joking that you reminded him too much of Seb. You agreed to come and although initially a bit quiet and reserved, once you all started playing games and cracked open a few cold ones, the inner sailor came out. Eventually, you were cussing out the gaming console with enthusiasm, dissolving the rest of the gang into a fit of giggles with your colourful and inventive curses. Even the usually sour-faced Sebastian was hiding a smile. As the evening went on, you grew more comfortable and when everyone was resting after an intense board game session, you decided to play some of your favourite horror fiction podcasts. You could see Sam was the one who was getting the most scared, jumping at every small sound while Sebastian simply listened intently. You offered to turn the podcast off but Sam refused, and after a while declared that he needed to use the restroom but was too afraid to go alone. After giggling and teasing him for an appropriate amount of time, Abigail agreed to take him. You and Sebastian were left alone, lounging on beanbags, nursing the dregs of your fourth beer that evening. The podcast still played in the background, but Sebastian’s attention was directed towards you. He eyed you carefully, before asking, “Will you play the triangle in our band?” You blurted out a laugh at the abruptness of the question and Sebastian’s cheeks took on the faintest blush. “You don’t have to, of course. It just would be nice to spend more time together,” he explained sheepishly. Your brown eyes crinkled in amusement, and you agreed, clinking together your near-empty beer cans, a toast to your new life in the Valley.

It’s great that you love autumn since that’s the only season where Sebastian actually leaves the vicinity of his house and walks around the town. You both can enjoy each other’s company and watch the orange and yellow-leaved trees dance in the wind together. Seb would be completely chill if you wanted to head back early during your adventures for a nap as well.

Seb is a night owl just like you. Being a programmer he often works odd hours or he’ll just spend the night gaming. So you’ll always have someone to spend time with at midnight. If you’re asleep while he’s awake Seb looks at you completely lovestruck and gives you a kiss on the cheek before going back to whatever he was doing.

Since Pelican Town’s movie theatre has a small selection of movies he is more so accustomed to enjoying thrillers and mystery movies. If you guys manage to order movies from Zuzu City or even go there he’d be willing to give horror movies a shot. Super unlikely that he’ll get scared. As long as it has an interesting plot he’ll enjoy it.

Seb would often find you bundled up in his hoodies. He finds it super endearing and it gives him a deep sense of satisfaction to see you wrapped up in his belongings.

You love Halloween and he loves pumpkin soup. In October, your house would be littered with pumpkins, which you gore and carve with delight and he makes pumpkin soup from the remains. It is a beautiful domestic scene.

Seb would often take you on long motorcycle rides in the night. He likes the warmth of your body on his back as he drives into the chilly night air.

Seb would teasingly open your messy bun and twirl the hairband around his finger nonchalantly. He likes teasing you, watching your hair just fall down and frame your face.

He would give back hugs and neck kisses, and Seb’s embrace would be super warm and cosy, especially in the fall. Cuddling in oversized sweaters on the couch would be the go-to.

Seb would organise surprise dates out of nowhere to show that he appreciates you. Being a homebody, he would order food from outside, and set up fairy lights and a cosy blanket on the couch.

your goths,

admins sar, san & sav

#writing commission #writing commissions #kofi #kofi support #commission #commissions #open commissions #stardew valley #sebastian #sebastian stardew valley #sebastian x reader #sdv #sdv sebastian #stardew #stardew sebastian #stardew farmer #sdv bachelors #sdv farmer

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labellefleur-sauvage · 6 months

Text

The Curse of Sleepy Hollow

In the quiet village of Sleepy Hollow in the human lands south of the Wall, there’s a local legend: that every All Hallow’s Eve, the ghostly form of a headless fae on a horse from the lands north of the Wall haunts the town for an evening, looking for his missing head and a human woman to take as his bride.

Too bad for Elain Archeron, the headless fae has found his head; now he’s looking for a bride, and he’s set his eyes on her.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7K

Read on AO3

Happy Monstertober! Thank you to @wilde-knight for the gentle encouragement and inspiration you provided for this fic. I guess if we want ye olde sexy times, we gotta write it ourselves.

XXX

“Don’t forget your letters, Timothy! I’m expecting a perfect assignment from you on Monday!”

Elain sighed to herself as she watched the crowd of schoolchildren tear off down the hill towards the small village. Young Timothy, in particular, paid his teacher no heed, his school bag full of hand me down books, crumpled parchment and half-broken pencils hanging precariously from his bone thin shoulder. In truth, Elain was surprised he’d come back to school this year; after the untimely death of his older brother, she thought for sure the young boy would be pulled into the fields to work day in and day out to harvest what meager crops managed to grow in the family’s rocky soil.

Some of her other charges showed more promise, or at least a more stable home life. Clare had dreams of becoming a school teacher herself, and Isaac, with his parent’s approval and coin, had applied to the University in the south to study mathematics.

Whatever became of these children, Elain hoped they would do what she couldn’t seem to do: get far, far away from this desolate, cursed town, and the nearby Wall haunting everyone who lived nearby.

Elain shivered as a sudden cold breeze whipped the air around her. She pulled her shaw closer around her shoulders. Just thinking about that damned Wall—what it stood for, and what was on the other side—always seemed to bring ill omens to her.

No one had warned Elain about the peculiarities of Sleepy Hollow when she took the school teacher position just a year ago. “The position is usually vacant,” her professor had said haltingly, avoiding her eager gaze. “The village may be willing to pay more, considering…”

Elain had ignored—hadn’t even noticed—her lecturer’s clear hesitation to speak about the job opening, too caught up in jealousy over her peers who had no trouble landing teaching positions around the realm. When the small piece of faded paper had been tacked onto the jobs board that morning, the weekly pay crossed out time and time again and a new, higher amount subsequently written in, Elain had grabbed it and sent her application letter that very day.

And Elain had regretted that decision for the past 364 days.

She shook herself from her memories. “No point in standing outside gazing at nothing like a crazy woman,” she muttered to herself. Elain walked back into her one room schoolhouse and tidied up as best she could and as much as she wanted. Like everyone else, she wanted to get home as soon as possible to enjoy her weekend.

When the floor had been swept, the chairs pushed in, the slates wiped clean and the books straightened out, dusk had fallen. Elain glanced down the hill towards Sleepy Hollow. The town was tucked in a small valley, and isolated from other settlements and villages. Warm, cozy lights flooded the dirt streets out of small houses. Chimney smoke lazily floated above the settlement.

If only Elain were going there. When she’d arrived in town for her teaching position a few weeks after she’d applied, she’d been dismayed to learn the small house included in the job’s room and board had inexplicably burnt down the day she had sent her application. “But don’t worry,” the aldorman had said, putting on a brave face. “Housing was included in the posting, so housing you’ll get!”

What she had gotten was a small, cozy stone cottage that had been previously abandoned but quickly tidied up by the village when word of a new school teacher got out. The bed was large and comfortable, the rugs surprisingly soft, and the fireplace busy with an unlimited supply of wood from the villagers, all free.

If only it weren’t through the forest, on the other side of the town, and far too close to the Wall.

Gathering her cloak around her, Elain set off down the hill towards the forest. Most evenings she didn’t mind the stroll back home. It was an easy walk, one she could complete at a leisurely pace and admire the beautiful trees and singing birds.

Tonight was different. Tonight was All Hallows Eve, and Elain had been a fool to forget it.

As Elain neared the forest, she paused. The back of her neck prickled in unease. There was no one around her, yet she felt eyes on her, appraising her form, her appearance. Her breath escaped her mouth in a white vapor as something dragged across her neck, her throat—

Elain whipped around. She was alone. Even the birds had abandoned her.

Breathing harshly, the sudden chill making her weak, Elain turned back to the forest and marched onwards.

XXX

Sleepy Hollow had a…heaviness to it. It was as if the town was stuck in a permanent dream-like haze, a stupor hanging like the morning fog over the area. The town had a way of sinking its claws into anyone who stayed there too long, dragging them into its lair until it was too late, until they realized that they just couldn’t leave. Your one horse might fall and turn lame and need to be put down, or the money you’d been saving for months, years, had to go towards putting food on the table because you lost your job or the fields suddenly turned barren. Even those attempting to leave on foot always came back, one way or the other: they got lost in the woods and somehow turned around so badly they ended right where they started, or, in Timothy’s older brother’s case, his body returned in a wooden casket after it was fished out of the river, his neck unnaturally bent.

And Elain worried that she had been here too long now, that Sleepy Hollow would never let her go.

She had tried, this past spring. Deciding that life in the valley wasn’t want she wanted and missing her family, she’d written home to her father, requesting a small advance to ship all her belongings home and to secure passage home. But he had gotten sick, his following letter revealed, and could no longer work. With no income and all his money going towards his medicine, there was no money left to bring Elain home. Elain hadn’t earned nearly enough money as the one schoolteacher for Sleepy Hollow, and so, she had stayed. It was just an unfortunate turn of events, she reasoned.

But Elain couldn’t help blaming it all on the Wall.

That damned Wall, put in place to separate the weak human lands from the unnatural fae lands to the north. Erected more than 500 years ago, after a long and bloody war, it was supposed to keep the two sides apart, supposed to keep the humans safe and the cruel, animalistic Fae sanctioned away.

If only it actually worked.

Elain heard it all, eventually, whether overheard from villagers along the streets or in the one lone pub, or from her pupils who blurted out the long held truth they didn’t know they were supposed to keep secret: the Wall had never held in Sleepy Hollow, and the town had been cursed by the Fae because of it.

At first, Elain dismissed it as false, the silly superstitions of a backwards, barely literate isolated village that needed to blame its bad luck on something other than themselves, rather than admit its own shortcomings. But then odd things started happening.

It started small: lentils scattered within her ashy fireplace when Elain certainly hadn’t spilled them there, or her clean stream water suddenly turning brown and filthy whenever she tried to scrub the floors.

Then it progressed: a dead rabbit, clean of its fur, left on someone’s doorstep. The local blacksmith’s tools melted down overnight and his forge ruined, forcing him to use his life’s savings to keep his family in their home.

Then winter came.

“It comes—hiccup!—in waves,” the town drunk, Aranea, whisper-shouted to her one winter evening in the corner of the pub. A local child had gone missing that day, and everyone gathered at the pub after a long day of searching to regroup and warm themselves up. “First, small things: broken cups, stolen food, things like that. Then, as spring comes and summer deepens, things get worse. Destroyed crops. Someone vanishes. Then it’s All Hallows Eve and…”

“And?”

“Get me another cup of wine and I’ll tell you.”

Gritting her teeth and returning with wine, Elain set it down in front of Aranea. “And then, on All Hallows Eve?”

Aranea reached a shaking hand out and drank half the glass in one gulp. In the low light of the pub, sweat dotted the older woman’s temple and upper lip. “Then He comes.”

Elain had to use all of her patience learned through dealing with unruly children to keep herself calm. “And who is this man?”

“Not a man.” Aranea looked around, reaching for her drink and taking another large gulp. “A fae.”

Elain’s stomach dropped. She put on a false bravado. “If it’s just a fae—“

“But it’s not just a fae.” The corners of her mouth turned down and Aranea swallowed. “He’s worse. Different. Only one night a year, just one, He—“

Perhaps the wine was not needed to soothe Aranea’s drunken ache, Elain realized, watching the terror gradually overwhelm the old woman’s face, her eyes red and panicked. Perhaps the sweat was not due to the roaring fire.

“But you need to know,” Aranea said quietly, like she was talking to herself. “It’s not right.”

“What’s not right?”

Aranea looked around again and lowered her voice. “The aldorman doesn’t like us talking about Him. But it’s not right that you’re left out.” She took a deep breath, and Elain forgot to breathe in anticipation. “The fae’s got no head—“

Elain couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped her mouth. Clearly, she was getting worked up over nothing.

“It’s not a joke,” Aranea replied harshly, and Elain stopped. “Every All Hallows Eve, the headless fae rides on his horse through the Wall and into the valley, looking for his missing head he lost in the war over 500 years ago. He only has a night, and when he finds his head, he goes on a rampage, killing and murdering. But some say…”

“Some say what?”

“Some think he’s looking for more. Looking for a woman to take as his own.”

The din of the pub quieted. Glancing around, Elain saw several groups filing out, no doubt starting another patrol for the missing child. She should go too. Soon.

“Has anyone ever actually seen this fae?”

Aranea paused. “I did. When I was younger. He cut down my husband when we were walking back to town. A flash of red on a steed as black as night, then my husband’s head rolling down the road.”

Elain stared wide eyed, open mouthed at the old woman. “I’m sorry,” she whispered eventually. Then, confused. “Why doesn’t everyone leave, move away?”

Aranea turned towards Elain, and where her eyes had been red, bleary and hazy before, now they were dull, flat. Dead. “You don’t think we’ve tried?”

XXX

They found the child, eventually. The girl’s mother opened their door one morning to find the child sleeping on the dirt right outside the door, curled around her stuffed straw doll and looking like she had never left.

(The child wasn’t the same, though, Elain heard later on. A shame, the women of the village clucked amongst themselves, to be cursed with a changling for a child.)

The year progressed as Aranea had predicted: the random and odd events became dangerous, threatening, culminating in the death of Timothy’s older brother. A part of Elain—the educated, logical part—still railed against everyone and thought these were all just unfortunate and odd situations. Accidents, or the work of a mischievous child. As for what Aranea said, her own history, well, clearly a red-haired highwayman murdered her poor husband. It was tragic, but not a dead Fae come to reclaim his head and wreak havoc.

But a smaller part couldn’t completely dismiss what she’d seen and been told, and it wasn’t a stretch to imagine a galloping headless fae terrorizing the woods, especially on a night like this. The wind seeped into Elain’s wool cloak, making the fabric feel thinner and lighter than the lace doily covering her kitchen table. Above her, the bare tree branches creaked and groaned in agony, like they too wanted to be free of these woods and put their roots somewhere else.

She scoffed to herself. This was another normal night in a completely normal wood. Soon, she’d be in her perfectly normal cottage to settle down with a cup of tea and a good book by the fire.

In fact, Elain thought happily, she could see one of the last landmarks along the forest path that signaled her walk was almost over. She had four such landmarks: a wide tree with a particularly large knot at its base, a rock worn down by the elements so that the top was a natural basin, two snarled and thorny bushes, and a small trickle of a stream. She’d just passed the snarled bushes, and right around the bend should be the stream—

Except there was the wide, knotted tree that marked the beginning of the path when she entered the forest. “What is this?” Elain murmured, looking around. Had she gotten mixed up by mistake?

She must have, she decided, walking a bit faster now. Most of the trees above her were bare, but the thick branches still managed to conceal the last weak rays of light the sun had to offer. It would be dark soon, and Elain had never traversed the path at night.

Picking up the bottom of her cloak so as not to trip, Elain moved as fast as she dared. There was the basin rock, there the bushes and there—

Elain felt a sob rising in her throat, her chest tight. There was the knotted tree. It made no sense, she knew she hadn’t walked off the path or gotten twisted around. She ran now, heedless of her cloak. The cool air bit her cheeks. If she could just run fast enough, surely she’d get home.

Somewhere behind her, a faint gallop echoed throughout the trees.

Eyes wide and breath choppy, Elain stopped, nearly tripping over herself. She listened, but all she could hear was the hammering of her heart. Eventually it slowed. It was silent around her. ‘A trick,’ she thought to herself. ‘Just my nerves playing with me.’

The galloping resumed. Closer. Louder.

Elain didn’t wait. She sprinted down the dirt path, the path she’d already walked down thrice. The galloping was now accompanied by harsh, animalistic breathing and grunting, like whatever hoofed beast was working as hard as she was. She darted a look behind her and wished she hadn’t: through the slim sliver of moonlight that passed between the branches, Elain could make out a huge, black horse, its eyes blood red, and a cloaked figure atop it.

Pumping her arms and legs faster, Elain charged ahead. Perhaps she could get off the path, run into the woods. But she knew that would only put her in more danger, that she had no hope of evading her pursuer through an ancient forest she wasn’t familiar with.

There—there was the stream, the last landmark before her cottage. If she’d had the air in her burning lungs for it, Elain would have cried. She could feel the giant beast’s warm breath right behind her, its presence looming. Just a bit further, almost safe…

A strong arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her easily onto the back of the horse. She landed hard on her stomach on the back of the running horse and whatever breath that was in her lungs fled.

Momentarily dazed, Elain looked up. She couldn’t see her captive’s face, but she could just make out a jagged, rough cut around his entire neck and a shock of long, red hair.

There was screaming coming from somewhere, louder and louder, a wail that reminded Elain of her mother’s funeral when she’d been a little girl. It took several seconds to realize the sound was coming from her. Her capture’s bare hand darted out. A large, warm hand settled on the nape of her neck, and Elain knew nothing else.

XXX

Elain’s back ached. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so horribly—probably the first night in the stone cottage outside Sleepy Hollow.

Sleepy Hollow. Her cottage. The woods. The Headless Fae.

She gasped. It wasn’t a nightmare, what had happened to her. Elain tried to roll over but couldn’t. She flailed her limbs but made no purchase.

“I’d stop struggling if I were you. It would be a shame for your beautiful skin to bear such ugly bruises.”

Elain blinked and finally took in her surroundings. She was laying on a large, stone slab several feet off the ground. Some fabric was underneath her body, protecting her from the brunt of the cold, sharp stone—small mercies, but she acutely felt the sting of the wind across her body. Her arms were tied above her head and the rope secured to the stone; her legs were spread and similarly tied and bound to the stone. Dozens of wax candles were placed on the ground and hanging from tree branches above her, creating a hazy, shimmering effect that her eyes struggled to adjust to.

And there, sitting at the foot of an ancient tree several feet away, watching her, was a man so handsome Elain thought he must be the devil.

But no, that can’t be right, she thought groggily, her brain gradually waking up. Not unless the devil was actually fae.

Odder things have happened.

The figure wore a flowing, long-sleeved, deep green shirt, the top few buttons undone to reveal bronze skin. His shirt was tucked into brown trousers, and riding boots covered his calves. Overall, his outfit wouldn’t be out of place in a more affluent town south of the Wall.

The rest of him, however, would mark him as other. His long, luscious red hair hung straight down past his wide shoulders, more vibrant than any human hair could hope to be. His ears were long and pointed, as all fae’s were. The eyes staring at her were mismatched: one was dark brown, and the other looked…golden. No, Elain realized, squinting at his left eye, one of his eyes appeared to be made of actual gold. It glittered in the candlelight. Long, white scars criss crossed over the side of his face as his golden eye.

“Had I known you would be looking at me so much, I would have procured some painting supplies.”

His voice was raspy, like he wasn’t used to talking much. Or maybe, Elain thought, panic bubbling inside her, it was because his head and body had only recently been reunited. A grim, jagged line was etched across the long column of his throat, and his face appeared slightly ashen looking.

It was true, then. The silly, far-fetched tale she assumed the bumbling villagers of Sleepy Hollow concocted to blame their misfortunes on was real. Very real, sitting just a few feet from her, and looking at her like she was his next meal.

“Or perhaps I should have brought the paints for myself, to paint your beauty. Your eyes are like stars—“

“Where am I? Why am I here?” She tugged on her bonds. Elain didn’t want to hear whatever mocking words he had for her. The sooner she figured out why this creature had abducted her, the sooner she could plan her escape.

The being frowned at her. He sighed. “Fine, no pleasantries then, human. You’re in my realm, north of the Wall.”

Elain’s stomach tightened. She wanted to scream, but what good would it do? She’d been warned, when she first moved to Sleepy Hollow, to never cross the Wall, and to stay as far away from it as possible. Not that she didn’t already know that. Although fae were nonexistent in her home in the south, everyone knew the threat they were to those who dwelled in the north.

There were humans who didn’t share the same view of the fae, though. The Children of the Blessed worshiped the fae for some twisted reason, too easily charmed by their supposed riches and otherworldly beauty. Every now and then rumor reached the Hollow that a few of the fanatics had breached the wall, but they haven’t been seen since.

She’d never heard of a human who ventured beyond the wall and returned, Elain realized, cold dread trickling down her spine. What hope did she have of ever returning to the human lands, dreary and dangerous as it was?

“Who are you?” Elain croaked. “Why did you take me?”

He gave her a calculated look. “Are you aware of the curse that hangs over this land?”

“Er, not really,” Elain said haltingly. “I know odd happenings occur to the people in Sleepy Hollow. Stolen goods, ruined crops. And the headless fae who, who…”

He nodded his head to her. “My name is Lucien.”

Lucien. A nice name. Certainly a nicer name than Elain assumed her dead fae captor would have.

Lucien’s posture was casual—sitting, leaning back against the base of the tree, one long leg stuck straight out, the other bent at the knee, an arm lazily resting on top, like this was a normal situation to find oneself in. Like Elain was perfectly safe.

She wasn’t fooled by his relaxed demeanor, however: whatever this being was, whether ghost, demon, or devil, she knew, in her gut and her brain, that he was dangerous.

Elain should have been terrified, and she was, but she also felt curiosity towards the fae in front of her despite the danger, like a mischievous kitten tempting an old, ornery work horse. She knew she needed to tread carefully, but…

“Alright, Lucien,” Elain said as calmly as possible, noticing the flash of surprise that flicked across his face. “You say there’s a curse.”

He nodded slightly. “A fae curse. Cast over 500 years ago at the Wall. A human general from the valley betrayed his fae lover, and her sister cursed his people to suffer forever in their homes in the valley.” Lucien looked at her shrewdly. “But you’re not from Sleepy Hollow, are you, human?”

“No. How can you tell?”

“There’s more…life to you,” he replied, looking around her. “It clings to you, barely. But give it another few months and you’ll be stuck here like everyone else.”

Elain scrunched her eyebrows. “What do you mean stuck?”

“Well, human, as I just said—“

“My name is Elain!” she interrupted. “If you’re going to steal me away and tie me up, at least have the courtesy to use my name!”

Lucien smirked. “Very well, Elain,” he purred, and Elain momentarily lost her breath. “The curse over Sleepy Hollow ensures the humans here are to suffer forever in the valley. Those who dwell in Sleepy Hollow cannot leave, no matter how hard they try.”

“But I wasn’t born in Sleepy Hollow!” Elain exclaimed, stomach sinking. “I’ve only been here a year!”

Lucien shrugged. “That makes no difference. The curse prefers adults. It doesn’t mind letting a youth wander free every few years. Not the adults though. The curse feeds and grows more powerful off the misery and despair of those under its thrall, and nothing is more delicious than humans realizing their lives are forfeit, and that they’ll only be more miserable year after year after year, and are powerless to stop it. Children with their innocence usually don’t realize this until their late teens, and by then it’s too late.”

Silence. There was a buzzing in Elain’s ears. “I’m, I’m stuck? I can’t move home, or leave? I’m trapped in this cursed town forever, to be tormented by a fae curse?”

Lucien shrugged again and began inspecting his finger nails. “Appears so. Seems you’re doomed to a life of loneliness and constantly watching your back so the curse doesn’t finish you off.” His head was lowered but his eyes darted up to look at her. “Unless…”

“Unless?”

“I too am affected by a curse. Help me break mine, and I’ll see if we can break the human curse after.”

“You're cursed?” Elain asked, surprised.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Did you think I was a ghost or a dead abomination?”

Elain flushed. “Well, you’re headless! I just assumed…”

“Stupid humans,” Lucien tsked. “I’m not quite dead, though not quite living except for one night a year. Every All Hallows Eve I am doomed to ride south of the Wall to retrieve my head—that’s not difficult, it’s usually in one of two or three places every year—but it’s the second part that’s tricky.”

“Second part?” Elain asked faintly, head swimming.

“To break my curse, I am to find a human bride and she is to live with me for one year and a day. Then, I’ll be fully restored and free to live my life.” He said this without any dramatics, as if he were inquiring about the weather, or what Elain had had for breakfast that morning.

“What a specific curse,” Elain muttered. Her head felt like it was being smothered by cotton. She bit her lip. “But surely you don’t mean…?”

“Oh my dear,” Lucien said silkily, in a voice that sent heat straight between her legs, “I most certainly do. Become my bride, and once my curse is broken, I’ll work on breaking the curse that hangs over Sleepy Hollow and you.”

It was ludicrous. Madness. Become a cursed fae’s bride? In what world was this possible?

But then she remembered what Aranea had told her, all those months ago. Some think he’s looking for more. Looking for a woman to take as his own.

“Why me? Surely there are other humans you could have chosen over the centuries.”

“You’re the first outsider to move to Sleepy Hollow in decades. I can still see the faint vestiges of life surrounding you, life the curse hasn’t completely sapped away yet. Any other human from Sleepy Hollow I would have taken would have died the instant they crossed the Wall, as the curse dictates.”

Elain took a steadying breath. “And what if you can’t break the curse over Sleepy Hollow?”

He raked a long hand through his long hair. “I’m not that concerned about it. It’ll probably involve tricking the fae who placed the original curse, or beating them in a duel.”

Elain stared at the fae before her. He seemed a bit too confident for her taste, with a barely concealed danger to him that kept the gooseflesh on her body raised. What if he was lying to her?

Did she have a choice?

She mustered what little confidence she had. “I accept. How are we to, uh, seal our arrangement?”

Quicker than she could see, Lucien was suddenly above her, standing above her at the head of the altar. This close, she could smell a faint whiff of smoke and damp earth lingering on his skin. It wasn’t unpleasant.

Lucien cocked his head and stared down at her. “With a kiss,” he said, then bent down to press his lips to her.

As far as kisses went, it was rather tame, especially considering the reputation fae had for their passions. Elain held herself still, the faint press of Lucien’s lips surprisingly warm against hers. A faint stab of disappointment pierced her—she had expected a bit more than this.

He withdrew, and Elain sighed. She was about to ask him to untie her when sharp teeth nipped her bottom lip. She gasped, and Lucien’s lips and tongue tangled with hers.

This was the passion Elain had heard whispered about the fae. Still above her, and upside down from her, Lucien slotted his mouth fully against hers while his tongue stroked hers. His hands, warm like his lips, cradled the sides of her face and stroked her cheeks lightly.

“So responsive,” he murmured when he broke their kiss and Elain objected. “Will you make such sweet noises for me if we continue?”

“Yes,” she whispered, craning her neck towards Lucien. Smiling, his mismatched eyes gleaming in the candlelight, he trailed a hand down her throat, squeezing slightly. Elain gasped, more heat flooding her core.

“Such sweet sounds you make, my bride,” Lucien said appreciatively. Elain blushed. His hand released her throat then slowly made its way down her chest. “I wonder if I can create a symphony with you by the end of the night.” He caressed a breast through her thin shift, stroking an erect nipple, and Elain moaned loud enough to be heard south of the Wall.

Lucien chuckled and withdrew his hand, stepping away from her. Elain arched her back. “Don’t stop!”

“I can smell your desire,” his voice slithered out from around her. Elain couldn’t see him but she knew he was nearby. She squirmed against her bindings on the stone—an altar, she realized at last, to her and their union—desperate to be free for reasons she never thought: to touch, taste and feel the cursed fae she had bound herself to for the next year.

Cool air hit her breasts and legs and dripping core. Elain looked down to see Lucien tearing her shift from her body and stepping in between her feet at the other end of the stone slab. In the low light, he looked otherworldly: his face sharp, pointed teeth just barely visible from his panting mouth, shoulders hunched. His eyes were focused on her spread legs. “Do you taste as sweet as you smell?”

Without waiting Lucien leaned down and licked a hot stripe through her wet folds. Elain let out a strangled groan as his tongue swiped over her sensitive bud.

“You do,” Lucien remarked, raising his head. “Better than the sweetest wine.” He gave her an appraising look. “Although I love your moans, I think I can put your mouth to better use.”

His hands came up to his neck and Elain stared, first in confusion, then horror, as with a wet pop Lucien tugged his head from his body. She screamed as his headless body set his head down between her legs. His head was alive, conscious, and Lucien’s head immediately stroked her sensitive pearl, his eyes intensely staring at her.

Elain wasn’t sure whether to scream in terror or ecstasy. A fae, who had just detached his head from his body, was licking her folds, tasting her, bringing her such intense pleasure she thought she might faint from the emotions tearing through her body. She struggled on the altar.

There was a hand on her shoulder. Elain leaned her head back and shrieked. She’d been expecting it, but seeing a headless body above her, moving on its own, was unsettling and disturbing in a way she’d never before thought.

“Be still, wife, and open your mouth.” Lucien’s head stopped feasting between her legs to utter the command. Elain broke out of her terror and bared her teeth down at her new husband. She was about to tell him where he could shove his head when his hands grabbed her head and shoved the tip of his throbbing cock in her mouth.

Elain froze, shocked. Lucien’s hips gently rocked into her mouth, putting more of his thick length in her mouth. Through the dim light, Elain could just make out the rest of his substantial manhood she still had yet to take. She hadn’t been aware of when he’d taken off his trousers.

“So good,” Lucien praised from between her legs, giving her bud a small kiss. “Relax your jaw and use your tongue, just like that. Good girl.”

Elain whimpered, his praise sending bolts of lightning to her quim. Above her, Lucien’s body kept using her mouth for his pleasure, gradually thrusting more and more of his length down her throat, all while his head continued his sensual assault on her lower lips. Elain gagged and tensed as a particularly rough pump of Lucien’s hips cut off her air.

“You look so good with my cock stuffed down your throat,” Lucien’s bodiless head said. She coughed when he withdrew his length and Lucien’s hands stroked her cheeks. Without waiting, Elain silently opened her mouth.

“So perfect for me,” Lucien sighed as his body placed his cock back in her mouth and resumed a gentler thrusting pace within her. Elain focused on licking and sucking the fat tip of his length while Lucien took her bud between his lips and sucked hard.

Elain moaned around his cock as a tingling began in her lower spine. It grew, quick and intense, and Elain came, whimpering around Lucien’s hard girth as his tongue stroked her pearl.

Lucien’s body withdrew his cock from her mouth. Elain gasped, her chest heaving. She wasn’t aware of Lucien’s body reattaching his head, or the bindings falling away from her trembling body. The next thing she knew was Lucien, in one piece, as naked as her, taking her head in his hands and kissing her.

“Magnificent,” he whispered. Lucien pulled her off the altar and turned her around so she was bent over the stone with her legs on the ground.

But Elain needed more, now. Keeping one leg on the ground for leverage, she lifted her other leg onto the altar and crooked it at the knee, widening herself for Lucien.

Lucien hummed appreciatively. “My good little human, spreading her legs for me, dripping for me. All it took was licking your perfect cunt and you’re willing to offer yourself completely to me, aren’t you, Elain?”

She didn’t answer, instead continuing to move her hips against the altar, hoping to entice the fae into finishing what he started.

“Use your words.”

“Oh, please,” Elain whispered, wishing he would just slide himself inside her, quench the fire he’d somehow ignited within her. She could feel her release dripping down her thigh, the moisture cooling against her heated skin.

Lucien hummed. She felt him step behind her and Elain tensed with anticipation, excitement. Just a short time ago she’d been scared for her life. Now…

Now, she’d been pleasured beyond words by a cursed headless fae (who she still wasn’t quite convinced wasn’t at least partly dead), who wanted her to be his bride and help break his curse. Elain was too lust drunk to think how ludicrous this all was.

Her thoughts were broken by a pressure at her entrance, and his finger entered her in one stroke. Elain gasped as Lucien leisurely thrust his finger inside her.

“So tight,” he praised her. More pressure, and Elain felt her walls stretch as he pumped two of his long fingers into her willing channel.

“What a perfect bride you’ll be,” Lucien whispered into the back of her neck. “I think you need more.” Three of his fingers slowly entered her body, working her tight quim open.

Elain buried her head into her arm and groaned. Now the stretch was tinged with pain, pain that gradually lessened as Lucien cooed praises in her ear and stroked her tender and swollen bud with his other hand. She was going to come again. She rocked back onto Lucien’s fingers, taking everything he had to offer, wanting to feel him inside her as she found her release…

“No!” she begged when Lucien withdrew his hands from her between her legs. She tried to rise off the altar but one of Lucien’s hands pressed between her shoulder blades, keeping her top half against the stone. One of her legs was still propped up on the altar, the other on the ground.

“I think you’re ready,” Lucien growled, deep from his chest, and Elain remembered that this wasn’t a human man she was with, this was an undead fae male who stole her from the Human Lands for the sole purpose of claiming her. A thrill of excitement shot through her lower stomach as Lucien fit the wide head of his cock at her entrance and thrust inside her.

They gasped in unison. Even though Elain had had his cock down her throat, she didn’t realize how thick he’d be in her channel. He was right to ready her with his fingers, Elain conceded, resting her forehead on the altar and gripping the stone as he pulled out to the tip and sunk back in.

“Good,” Lucien praised her, working more of his thick length inside her. “So good. My beautiful bride. My perfect mate.”

Elain didn’t know what a mate was, but she didn’t particularly care at the moment, not when she felt his hips finally reach her bottom. She moaned at how full she felt.

Above her, Lucien’s body quivered, from his strong legs pressed to the back of hers, to his hands gripping her hips. He snarled something in a foreign language—harsh, full of hisses and sharp consonants—then withdrew his cock and slammed back deep within her.

He gave Elain no further time to adjust to his conquering manhood. Keeping his hands on her lush body—squeezing the fat of her hip, plucking a peaked nipple, digging his hands into her shoulder—Lucien claimed Elain like a male on a mission. Which he was, Elain thought dazedly, holding onto the stone as he pumped within her, hitting a sensitive spot of her walls.

All the while, Lucien murmured words—some she couldn’t understand—into her skin and into the wind: “So lovely, so soft,” he rasped against the shell of her ear; “Mine. Only mine,” he grunted as he bit where her neck met her shoulder. It was pain and euphoria all in one, and Elain never wanted it to end.

One of his hands slammed down on the altar not far from hers. His forearm was corded with muscles, the brown skin gleaming with sweat. Elain watched, hypnotized by the strength in his body when his other hand reached between her legs and began stroking her bud again in time with his hard thrusts.

She squeezed her eyes shut and moaned. She was going to find release again, soon. Without thinking, her hand nearest to Lucien’s reached out and touched his, just barely grazing his smallest finger, wanting to feel more of him. Lucien stuttered and stopped. Elain wanted to cry. She’d ruined it, gotten sentimental, human—

Lucien resumed pumping his cock into her cunt and his fingers touched her bud at the same time he moved his hand over hers and intertwined his fingers awkwardly with hers. He was so warm, so big, and she felt the pulse in his wrist beat erratically against her arm.

Pleasure unlike she’d ever felt before—bone deep, primal, and all-encompassing—ripped through her body as Lucien’s clever fingers and cock worked between her legs. He paused, letting Elain work through her release. Eventually her breathing evened out.

Lucien withdrew his cock and gathered Elain in his arms. Snatching their cloaks and throwing them on the ground, he gently laid her down on her back and spread her legs. “Again.” His hips snapped into hers with brutal efficiency, hitting deep inside her. “I want to see your face when you come on my cock.”

Elain could only hold onto Lucien’s shoulders as he rode her and drove her higher and higher towards another steep precipice. He bent her legs over his arms and opened herself even wider. The angle of his cock and the closeness of his body made her see stars behind her eyelids. Elain felt drunk and dazed, having never felt so exhausted before in her life.

His hand reached between them towards her cunt again and Elain shivered. “I—I can’t,” she gasped. “Not again.”

“You will,” Lucien said simply, his thumb brushing the tender hood of her bud. He looked down between their bodies and growled so fiercely Elain craned her head to see what elicited such a response. She felt her face redden: in the orange candlelight, she could make out her swollen folds, his slick cock, and the white cream of her release staining the base of his length.

“My beautiful bride,” he whispered against her lips. He kissed her, slow, steady, completely at odds with what the rest of his body was doing. If Elain didn’t know any better, she would say it was almost loving.

Lucien tenderly cradled her head as he kissed her. It was far too early to have feelings for him, Elain knew as she stared at him deep in the eyes, and he stared back, but there was something there. They both knew it.

“Mine,” she whispered against him, her tongue darting into his mouth, and Lucien groaned. His thumb circled her bud as his hips thrust wildly into her. With a shout to the skies Lucien came, emptying himself within Elain’s body. She took everything he gave her, even one final release that seemed to rob her of her bones and leave her a shaking, tender mess.

Eventually, Elain’s heart slowed. “I’m assuming you haven’t done that for 500 years?”

“No.”

Elain huffed a breath. “That’s impressive, considering.”

Lucien chuckled. He rolled them over so he was on his back and she was laying against his chest. They were silent for a few moments, the only sounds their hearts beating together. Eventually, Elain spoke. “What has the last 500 years been like for you?”

Lucien didn’t answer right away. “I’ll tell you everything sometime later. It’s…difficult for me.” He kissed her forehead. “Besides, we have a year together, I don’t want to run out of things to talk about well before then.”

“Only a year?” Elain asked hopefully, casting a shy glance up at her headless fae.

Lucien grinned.

#elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain archeron x lucien vanserra #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #my fic #my fics #just in time for monstertober #dont look at the plot #this is just a smutty one shot so treat the story accordingly #also dont look too closely for typos and what not #i also struggled so bad for this title #this is honestly the best i could come up with #womp womp lmao

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