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penny00dreadful · 2 months

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And They Were Roommates! - Part 2

Part 1 Part 3 AO3

Eddie had called out of work the next day. Steve could hear him making his apologies to Mrs. Henderson who'd taken over the running of the shop when her husband passed.

Steve knew she'd probably tell him to stay home for the rest of the week, probably longer if she could get away with it, but Eddie loved every second he spent working there. Adored Dustin. Adored the other kids, Steve's kids, who used the back room for their dice game after closing on Thursday evenings.

Eddie would have to be beaten away from the premises with a bat. A bat with nails.

Steve might just have to give it a try if the idiot refused to rest properly.

He wasn't mothering him.

He was like… distant cousining him.

When he heard Eddie retreat back to his room after the call and when a light rumbling of snores came through the wall maybe a half an hour later, Steve finally made his exit from his room.

He hadn’t wanted Eddie to think he needed to put on a brave face or act like he was okay if Steve was out in the public spaces while he made the call.

Not because he cared.

Just so Eddie wouldn’t have to pretend.

And so he himself didn’t have to deal with the tension.

Yeah, right.

Also, it was the least he could do to complete Eddie's designated chores off the whiteboard that there had been war over.

Robin and Eddie’s friend Chrissy had been forced to come in and mediate the whiteboard before one of them set the other's hair on fire. Though by the end of the day the two best friends had been too busy making eyes at each other to be of any help.

Steve was taking a risk; messing with the delicate whiteboard balance that stayed the same, week in, week out, lest another war start. But if Eddie wasn’t up for going to work, he certainly wouldn’t be up for sweeping, mopping, countertops and garbage.

And like, Steve could hardly blame him, he’d been through a lot yesterday, he’d been betrayed by the guy he’d cared most about. He was attacked and had his heart broken all in one night.

So it was whatever.

Just a few chores.

Whatever.

At least he didn’t have to worry about keeping the noise down. Eddie could sleep through the apartment being ripped up by a cyclone then dropped into Oz.

He’d probably sleep through any and all musical numbers to follow, too.

Though he’d be bummed about missing them.

A few hours had passed by that point and Steve was just about to sit his lovely bottom on the couch to enjoy some good old fashioned thoughtless tv when there was a knock at the door.

He half expected Mrs. Henderson to be on the other side with half a hospital in tow behind her as well as, like, fifteen gallons of her famous chicken noodle soup. Which Steve would not turn down for love nor money and would steal a minimum 50% share.

As was his right.

But it wasn’t Claudia.

It was some guy.

Some guy who had a bandage over his nose, a harsh purple colour blooming underneath, sitting a little off as though broken. Some guy who had cuts and scratch marks all over his face and neck.

Some guy who seemed to be affronted at the very sight of him.

But as he stood there Steve could see the clogged up gears working in his brain before the guy opened his mouth and said "You're Steve, the roommate."

Steve pursed his lips.

Well, this interaction was off to a great start.

Though if this was who Steve thought he was, he couldn’t give less of a fuck.

"I'm Steve. Eddie's the roommate.” He said with a raised eyebrow. “What was with the look?"

The guy blinked at him. "What look?"

"The look you gave me, when I opened the door. Like I'd shit on your shoe." He answered with a cocked eyebrow and a cocked hip.

"Oh, uh… I just thought Eddie had shacked up with someone already.” The guy laughed. “Bit soon.” He shrugged and smiled at Steve as though looking for some kind of commiseration for a good joke, two men giving each other nudges about how silly their wives were or whatever other shit straight people did.

But Steve had no commiseration to give.

So this was definitely the shithead, then. Rick.

Steve leaned against the doorframe, practically acting like a barricade, blocking off access to the apartment with his arms crossed. "Don’t like the idea of him having someone at home?” He asked in a light tone. “Bit hypocritical if you ask me.”

Rick’s face immediately soured. "That wasn't his business to tell."

“I think you lose the privilege to that kind of privacy when you fuck around on people you’re supposed to love.” Steve shrugged. “Or just people in general.”

“Who the hell are you to judge me?” Rick puffed his chest out. “You don’t know me.”

“And thank god for that. I don’t need to know you. I know you’re a cheater, that’s enough.”

Rick scoffed. “Whatever, man. I’m not here to debate morality or some shit with you. I’m here to see Eddie.”

“No.” Steve answered as simply as he could.

The guy seemed to need things to be concise.

Rick looked bewildered. “Ex- excuse me?”

“You got cotton in your ears or something? I said no.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? His keeper? You know he hates you right?”

Steve pulled his mouth down into a mocking pout. “Oh no.” He sighed, deadpan. “I’m so heartbroken.”

“Listen, I’m not getting into it with you right now, man. So call Eddie out or move.”

“Or what?” Steve leaned forward a little, feeling his blood light on fire.

There would be nothing more he’d love at this moment than Rick trying to square up to fight.

The guy was a little taller than him, but Steve was much broader, much stronger and though it wasn’t something he liked to do, he knew he could throw a decent punch if it was for someone else.

That much was obvious.

Thinking back on the things Eddie had said last night, the things Rick had tried, the way he’d cried into Steve’s shoulder, Steve would break Rick’s nose all over again if given half a chance.

“Steve.”

Eddie appeared next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and pulling him away from the door.

Rick looked between the two of them before his eyes landed back on Steve, snapping at him “You can fuck off now.”

Steve raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘oh, can I?’, but even so, he looked at Eddie, waiting for some sign of what he wanted, whether he wanted him to stay or go.

But Eddie gave no indication of what he wanted, wedging himself in between the two and pulling the door tighter to himself, his expression thunderous through the blooming bruises and angry cuts.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

Steve took that as his cue to go. Even through all the bluster and posturing and how much the two of them still didn’t like each other-

We barely tolerate each other, Steve insisted to himself, we don’t like each other. I don’t like him.

-he wasn’t going to force himself into this drama and if Eddie needed to tear this guy to shreds on his own, Steve would let him.

But he had barely taken a step back before Eddie’s hand shot out, grasping at what he could until he had a fistful of Steve’s shirt, white knuckling it and stopping him in his tracks.

The movement was hidden by the door, Rick wouldn’t have been able to see it and Eddie didn’t acknowledge that he’d done anything, still staring his ex down.

Steve stopped dead where he was and when Eddie seemed to realise that he wouldn’t be moving, his hand loosened, coming back up to rest against the door.

“I’m here to sort things out between us. Try to fix it.” Rick said, his voice going soft.

Eddie exhaled a derisive laugh through his nose. “Why don’t you go and ‘fix’ your wife?”

Steve crossed his arms, standing guard in the back but still mostly out of sight.

“C’mon babe…” Rick reached out, attempting to grasp at Eddie’s fingers but Eddie snatched his hand back. “I think you’re just… making a big deal out of this when you don’t need to.”

“A big deal?” Eddie snapped, leaning forward. “Not only have you been cheating on your wife but you’ve been cheating on me too.”

“You?” Rick sputtered, incredulous.

He exhaled with an eye roll and only then noticed that Steve was still standing there.

“Are you serious?” Rick almost shrieked. “What the hell are you still here for? Show’s over, normie!” He waved his hand in Steve’s direction as though dismissing him.

Steve raised his eyebrows and smiled back, not moving an inch.

Rick looked back to Eddie. “Are you not going to do anything about him? We’re in the middle-”

“Oh my god.” Steve injected as much sarcasm as he could. “Is this a private conversation? I had no idea.”

Rick’s face was turning red with frustration. “You got a real attitude problem, man.”

Steve turned his mouth down in a pout. “Oh no.”

“That’s it.” Rick slammed against the door all of a sudden, wrenching it from Eddie’s grip and almost blowing it open if it wasn’t for Steve’s hands stopping it in its tracks.

The sudden stop jostled Rick, sending him slightly off balance and Eddie took the opportunity to kick out hard, swinging his leg up until it landed in between Rick’s legs.

Eddie retracted his foot for just a second as Rick crumpled with a scream of pain before kicking out again, catching him in the hip and shoving him back into the hallway, sending him sprawling.

“Lose my fucking number, asshole.”

Eddie spat down at Rick before turning back inside and slamming the door behind him.

His eyes were still narrowed and furious as he glared at Steve who could do nothing but stand there.

The sound of Rick’s groans were still echoing beyond the door as the two of them looked at each other.

The silence stretched on as Eddie heaved heavy breaths in and out and Steve stared dumbfounded.

There was a glossy sheen to Eddie’s eyes by the time Steve opened his mouth, not sure of what he was going to say.

But it didn’t matter.

Eddie stormed past him without a backwards glance, his hair just disappearing behind the door before he slammed it closed and the wailing of a guitar and the crashing of drums started to scream out of the speakers in his room.

He didn’t see Eddie for the rest of the day. Didn’t knock on his door to try to pull him out and didn’t try to get him to talk.

Steve was only just waking up the day after when he heard Eddie’s bedroom door open and shuffling coming down the hall towards the phone.

He twiddled his thumbs, waiting in his room while he heard Eddie’s muttered conversation.

He didn’t want to interrupt, didn’t want to have to force his presence on Eddie before it was necessary but he really had to pee and he’d have to walk past the phone to get to the bathroom.

Thankfully the conversation didn’t last long but then Eddie shuffled away from his own room towards the bathroom and Steve had to take some very deep breaths.

He couldn’t really be mad at him for it, the guy hadn’t come out of his room at all yesterday after the confrontation, he deserved to pee but Steve felt like his kidneys were gonna start failing at any second.

When he heard Eddie shuffle back into his room Steve nearly cracked the wall with how hard he threw the door open, rushing down the hallway and into the bathroom before he exploded.

Eddie hadn’t made another appearance by the time Steve was grabbing his keys for work and as much as it irritated him, he was feeling a little wary about leaving him all alone for most of the day.

Turned out he didn’t really need to worry about it.

Just as he had turned back towards Eddie’s room, there was a knock on the front door.

He swung it open to find bouncing blonde curls and a bright perky smile.

“Hi Steve.”

“Oh, hey Chrissy.” He stepped aside, allowing her to sweep inside. Her sweater was very unusual. Dark blue and baggy and tucked into her light wash jeans. Steve could have sworn he’d seen it before. There was a large plastic bag in her hand that a glance inside told him was filled with every tooth rottingly sweet thing she could have scooped off the shelves at their local store.

She placed the bag on the kitchen counter with a light clink of glass against glass coming from inside.

Maybe it was also a day-drunk type of visit.

“How is he?” Chrissy asked, blinking up at him with her big earnest eyes.

“I’m… not sure?” Steve shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck a little embarrassed. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

She nodded. “Okay. That’s okay.”

“I think I’m probably going to call over to Robin’s after work.” He muttered, trying to keep his burning blush down. “Hang out for a little bit.”

He didn’t think he needed to say he was doing it to give Chrissy and Eddie their space, to do their ice-cream and chocolate and alcohol and talk about how terrible men were without him hovering. But thankfully she got it, smiling at him so bright it almost hurt to look at.

“Could you…?” She hesitated, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her fingers. “Could you ask Robin- never mind.”

Steve opened his mouth to assure her it was okay to continue but she barrelled on.

“The boys are coming over later too. Is that okay?”

“The boys?” Did she mean the kids?

“From the band.”

“Oh! Yeah I mean why wouldn’t that be okay? Eddie lives here too.”

“Yeah. I just wanted to check in case-”

“In case I complained about it later?” He tried to ask in his kindest tone. Maybe he’d been guilty of bitching about them in the past but he would never deny Eddie his support system, not at s time like this.

Even if he did… dislike him?

Did he still dislike him?

What was he talking about, of course he did.

“I’m sorry.” Chrissy looked incredibly guilty and Steve couldn’t stand it.

“No, you were right to ask. I haven’t- I’ve been a bit rude in the past.”

She looked like she wanted to apologise again so he shot her a warm smile and patted her on the shoulder. “I have to get to work, but take care of him, yeah?”

She gave him a curious look but nodded, sending him out the door with a wave of her hand, her sleeve following loosely where it was still pulled over her fingers.

Steve was halfway through his shift by the time Robin came in. She worked shorter hours ever since she’d taken that part time internship as a translator.

They’d just gotten past their mid-day coffee rush by the time they had a chance to talk.

“Are you doing anything after this?” He asked her, leaning back against the counter.

“Is this your way of asking me out?” Robin was rifling through the under counter refrigerator next to him, throwing out any old stock that had gone out of date.

“Yes.” Steve nodded. “I’ve been hopelessly in love with you for years and I thought now was the best time to confess.”

“You could have picked a more romantic location.” She sniffed at a container of strawberries, considering before shaking her head and dumping them.

“But my heart told me it had to be now, Birdie.”

Robin just rolled her eyes at him.

“So?” He nudged her with his foot, very nearly sending her off balance. “You, me, two of the best subs this city has and your couch. It’s my best offer.”

She shut the refrigerator door, pushing herself to stand, using the counter for balance. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Steve absentmindedly snapped his fingers at her, remembering.

“Oh! You have a date tonight, right?”

“I did have a date tonight but sh- he cancelled.”

“He cancelled, did he?” Steve smirked, trying not to enjoy the poorly masked revulsion on Robin’s face at having to pretend to be dating a man.

“Yes. He did. Rain check for another time.”

“Bummer.”

Robin hadn’t told him much about the girl she was seeing and Steve hadn’t pushed for any more information than she was willing to give. When she wanted him to know, he’d know.

“But-” he continued “-that leaves your schedule wide open for a date with me.” He spread his arms wide open and smiled at her.

“Well, aren't I just the luckiest girl in the world?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“The luckiest. Any reason for the rain check?”

Robin nodded. “Friend emergency.”

“Oh. That’s sweet.”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “He’s a very sweet…” her nose scrunched up, “boy.”

“Very sweet boy.” He repeated with a smile. “So can I steal your keys? Have everything all spread out for you when you get home?” He dragged his hand down his chest, wiggling his hips.

“God, Steven.” Robin shuddered. “You’re repulsive.”

“Wrong. I am a dish.”

“Ugh. Gag.”

Steve pouted at her. “I’ll get you a milkshake too, how about that?”

She crossed her arms and stuck her nose up. “Fine.”

She could only hold for so long before she started to break, cracking a smile.

“If you two don’t mind,” a voice next to them said and they both jumped, seeing Mark their manager standing there, “could you stop flirting and get back to work?”

Neither of them even bothered arguing that they were not flirting anymore. They both knew the rest of the staff had a betting pool going on when they would get together.

They would be waiting a very long time.

By the time Robin got home, Steve had himself swaddled in her blankets and had stolen her best hot water bottle.

Why did she live somewhere so cold?

His toasty warmth didn’t last very long, however.

She wrestled the hot water bottle from his grip by resorting to dirty tactics, pulling at his hair until he let it go.

“How many times have I told you the hair is off limits?” He hissed at her, trying to fix it. His hair was his fucking signature, how could she be so rude?

“That is exactly why I go for it every time. It’s your weak spot.” She grinned, smug in her win and attempting to pull the throw off of him as well.

“Go get one of my sweaters if you’re gonna be such a big bitch baby about it. I just got off work.” She pouted, batting her eyelashes at him. “I’m tired.”

“I brought you subs and milkshakes!”

Robin heaved out a heavy, put upon sigh. “Fine.” She heaved herself up from the couch, still clutching at the hot water bottle and disappeared inside her room.

Steve took the opportunity to swaddle himself again, just getting cosy when he heard Robin call out, “Evie, did you steal my sweater?”

“Which one?” He shouted back. He probably had five or more of hers at home and he wasn’t even sure if all of those had started out as hers or his.

“The blue one!”

“Which blue one?”

“The new blue one!”

“What does it look like?”

“What do you think it looks like, it’s fucking blue!”

Steve rolled his eyes and tried to remember any blue sweaters that existed within his own apartment.

“I’m pretty sure I don’t have it. I don’t even remember you getting a new blue sweater.”

“Well where the hell is it then?”

“How am I supposed to know? I didn’t even know it existed!”

“You’re supposed to know these things!”

“Maybe the sweater fairy stole it.” He snickered to himself until a dark red sweater that had definitely belonged to him first hit him in the face.

“You are the sweater fairy.” She pouted, sitting back down and stealing the throw from his lap.

“Don’t hate crime me. It’s rude.” He tugged the throw back over his legs, leaving her enough slack to cover herself as well.

Robin reached over to snatch her sub from the coffee table. “So.”

“So.”

“Something’s going on with Eddie.”

“What?” Steve ran through the entire day in his head. He didn’t think he’d mentioned Eddie once. “When did I say there was something going on with Eddie?”

“You didn’t.” Robin’s mouth went slack in the way it usually did whenever she was hiding something but she covered it up with a large bite, speaking through a full mouth. “But you’re here and not at home so…”

“That’s not that unusual.”

“No, but what is unusual is that you asked if you could steal my keys instead of just taking them.”

“Oh.” Yeah. That was not the norm. “Um, well it’s not really my place to say-”

“Who am I going to tell?”

“That’s besides the point.”

“Tell me.” She jabbed him with a sharp elbow.

“I don’t know if I can.” He said, running his hand through his hair.

“I mean, nothing too personal, if you don’t wanna.” She backtracked with a shrug.

“Doesn’t matter what I want. The thing is it’s not my business, it’s Eddie’s.” He shrugged. “But there was some… relationship drama the other night.”

“Ooh. Juicy drama?”

Steve winced. “Not exactly. More like… red flag drama.”

“Oh shit. Chr- I didn’t know that.”

Steve looked at her, bewildered. “I wouldn’t expect you to, how would you know?”

Robin just shrugged, shoving another large bite into her mouth.

“I don’t really… I’m not comfortable talking about the things Eddie and I talked about but I do need you to help me… figure myself out.”

“Okay, that I can do. I’m an expert at it. I helped you find your sexuality.”

“Find it? It wasn’t fucking lost Birdie.”

“Yeah, but I brought it out into the sunlight.”

“Jesus, you’re acting like you released it from captivity. I knew. I’ve always known. Just because you didn’t know that I know, doesn’t mean I didn’t know.”

She shoved his arm. “I unlocked it.”

He shoved her back. “You didn’t unlock shit.”

She shoved him again. “I unlocked it. You’re welcome.”

He gave her a final shove with a huff to go right along with it. “Whatever.”

“Okay, no more side tracking. Tell me your scrambly brain thoughts.”

“Alright. Um. Okay. So.” Shit. How much could he tell her without either breaking Eddie’s trust or revealing too much. “So there was drama the other night, between Eddie and the boyfriend, you know that much. I won’t say what happened but he didn’t get home until like four in the morning and he called out of work yesterday and today-”

“He called out?!” Robin shrieked, open mouthed. She’d lived with Eddie long enough and been through enough of Steve’s bitching to know just how much Eddie loved that job.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. It was… it wasn’t good, Birdie, what happened. It was actually really fucking fucked up.”

She nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“So then yesterday he’s trying to sleep it off pretty much and there’s a knock at the door.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah and I go get it because I had assumed it would be Mrs. Henderson with some chicken noodle soup and you know I’d kill my own mother for some of that soup-”

“-I’d kill your mother for some too, yes.”

“-yeah. But it wasn’t Mrs. Henderson, it was Rick, the boyfriend. Or ex-boyfriend, I don’t know and he was trying to like, bully his way into the apartment to see Eddie and I don’t know what happened with me but-”

“-you went full guard dog protector mode didn’t you?”

“I…” Steve sighed, looking down at his hands. “Yeah, I did. Why did I do that? It’s none of my business. I don’t even like the guy. Why would I care?”

“Because you always care, Evie. You saw someone who needed help and you helped, it’s what you do.”

Steve scoffed. “Hardly. It’s not like I’m some fucking selfless hero for doing it.”

“Nah, you kinda are.”

“It was just some guy!”

“And you’re just some guy too!”

Steve glared at her, offended. “You take that back.”

Robin looked at him for a moment. “Okay, fair, retracted.”

He gave her a small grin and dragged the sleeves of the sweater over his fingers.

“Hey! Stop, you’ll stretch it!”

“What does it matter if I stretch it, it’s mine.”

“It is not.”

“It is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!” He jabbed her in the side, knowing full well that if they continued the way they were this could go on all night. It had gone on all night more than once.

Robin squawked and immediately lunged, her hands grabbing at the top of his head.

“No, no! I told you not the hair!”

“And I told you it’s your weakness.” She hissed, her eyes flashing as he scrambled at her wrists before she could get her fingers buried deep enough.

“Boobies!” He shouted, as loud as possible. The effect was immediate, Robin tried to cringe away from him with a look of disgust. “Boobies, boobies, boobies!”

“Oh my god are you five fucking years old? Can you not say tits or breasts or fucking mammary glands or something like a damn adult?” She wrenched her wrists away from him. “I’m so embarrassed for you.”

“I’m embarrassed of your face.”

“I’m embarrassed of your weird man hair.” She scowled, patting at his chest.

“You shouldn’t be. Everyone loves the chest hair. Even the lesbians. It’s like a respect thing.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Steve pouted to himself.

He just wanted to help. He wanted to make sure Eddie was okay, that he would continue to be okay and there was this horrible little part in the back of his head that also wanted to make sure that no one would put their hands on Eddie ever like that again.

It was weird and possessive in a way he really shouldn’t have been feeling about his irritating as shit roommate who didn’t even have the courtesy to play guitar with headphones on half the time.

No matter how good his playing was.

“I can smell your hair burning.”

“What do I do now, Birdie?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… I want to help, I guess. But I don’t know how. We don’t even like each other, why would he accept my help?”

“Well… how did he react when you did what you did?”

“He… I guess he… I was going to leave when Rick came to the door and he stopped me. He didn’t say anything to me, he didn’t even look at me but he grabbed onto me and… I think he was scared, Rob. I’ve never seen him scared.”

“Well Steve, I think you’re gonna do what you always do. Help. Whether you know you’re doing it or not, whether you even really mean to, you always help.”

"You're making me out to be some sort of saint."

“I’m really not.” She shook her head. “You’re just… you.”

“Wow, incredible observation there, Birdie.”

“Oh, fuck off and finish this for me.” She shoved the rest of her sub into his hands.

Part 1 Part 3 AO3

@augustjustice @geekymagicalpotato @wormdebut @eddielives1986 @releasethexbarakat @a-little-unsteddie @steddietogo @steddiehyperfixation

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.

Divider by firefly-graphics

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #penny00dreadful #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #fanfic #pennys anniversary event #robin buckley #enemies to lovers #roommates au #roommates

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cookiepie111 · 4 months

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The bakery

König x black reader

König and his bakery own girlfriend, how I haven't done a bakery au yet is crazy. These are just a bunch of headcannons. Two slight suggestive things at the bottom but nothing crazy still under the post just to be safe. Not proofread.

He has the bad habit of scaring you when you're closing shop. You lock the doors and head to the kitchen to get started with the clean-up when you hear rattling and footsteps. It must be in your head... that doesn't stop you from arming yourself with the heavy rolling pin.

"Hello!"

"Agh!" Your swing is stopped."You have to aim for the head schatz, " tapping the end of the rolling pin at his head with a Droopy smile. You're glad he isn't wearing his balaclava it would have really given you a heart attack

"König! Just call me next time. I'll let you"

" and ruin the surprise! You should just leave the door open"

"No! The surprise in question being scaring me?"

"Flowers!"

You sigh. "Just wait, I'm almost done"

Birthday are something he can look forward to now. You make him a cake Esterházy torte every year the same thing since he likes it so much. When his birthday falls on a work day, you pack up a slice for him to take in.

He likes the smell you carry. each week it's something new flour, fresh bread or chocolate. It's not always so romantic. Sometimes, you come home smelling like yeast and butter.

Pulling you away from the kitchen when you're stressing has become a semi common occurrence.

In the early days of your bakery, you had to do everything alone, hauling tables and chairs, now you have könig! He has no problem building them, rearranging the furniture, helping you carry heavy ingredients to the back of the kitchen

The two of you have similar morning routines. A 5 am start! It's a habit for könig, so he'll go on his morning run, and freshly baked bread is waiting for him when he gets home

Your fridge becomes a strange mix of almost only meats and butter. One day, you both look at the fridge and agree you need a second one after realising you have no other ingredients.

Will pull you back to bed somedays where he's feeling extra clinging or feels you've been working too hard, so you don't open shop. You have to deal with some pretty annoyed customers the next day

He doesn't bake but does take up cooking more.

You tried making him some healthier bakes for when he's cutting. He spat it out so fast, thought you were playing a prank on him

" Never do this again." he'll take enjoy the full fat bakes please.

Has tried to fuck you in the kitchen. Getting all handys and kissing along your neck, you quickly realise where this is going and have to shut it down, prying him off of you"König no!"

Wants to do food play with you, but you're strongly against it! You never thought you'd see the day könig would pout, but here he is, body weight pressed tight around you, clinging to your waist, "please Schatz"

"No, I'm not letting you lick cream off me. It's weird"

" I'd let you lick cream off my nip-"

"Oh my, out!"

#könig x black reader #cod x black reader #könig x reader #x black reader #black reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty x black reader #könig imagine #my writing

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aemondsdoll · 10 months

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Compensation | Aemond Targaryen

masterlist

Summary: Your husbands brother takes over.

Warnings: Smut, dub-con??, reader doesnt know its Aemond, cheating, fingering, oral f!receiving, valyrian (translated), fun times!

Pairings: Aemond x f!reader, Aegon x f!reader (not rlly lol)

AN: sorry for disappearing, thought I'd give you guys a little sumn to rectify it.

You do not know how you got here. You felt as if the marriage between you and Aegon had gone stale. He had returned to his ways of whoring- you were certain of it. But you didn’t have the heart to confront him, how could you? His sweet and dutiful wife, he would surely strike you where you stand.

Yet as the morning air circulated through the chambers you and Aegon shared, there was a warm tongue lapping at your aching core. In your drowsy state, your hand gripped the cold sheets beside you, unable to process that if Aegon were there, the sheets would’ve been warm.

Too lost in the throes of pleasure to realise the hair in between your nimble fingers was not curly. Head falling back against the pillow, a thick and throaty moan spilled from your lips. Oh, it had been so long since your body had felt pleasure. You were beginning to forget how it felt.

His tongue trailed from your aching hole up to your clit, which twitches as the feeling of release builds up within your belly. God, had it been so long that you were going to peak as fast? Or is Aegon just more skilful nowadays? You did not get the chance to think any further, his tongue stiffening to attack your clitoris with a newfound pressure, slowly licking it, as if to prohibit your release.

Your teeth bite at the skin of your bottom lip, eyes squeezing shut as a desperate moan escape once your teeth relent. Tears begin forming, the pleasure hurling to you at an intensity you swear was ungodly.

“Oh, fuck!” Your voice comes out ragged, immediately following it a slow whine, with that whine, the stress of the last month left with it. The peak sent electricity up your spine, washing over you extraordinarily, your head feeling fuzzy and euphoric as your husbands’ tongue continues its assault on your clit, until he knows you are well and truly finished.

“Did your husband not teach you its unladylike to swear?” A voice came, and your heartbeat impossibly fast as your body pulled away, sitting up against your headboard, away from the warm body.

“Aemond?” A hum elicited from his mouth, the same mouth that had just engorged your pussy as if it was his last meal. “Aegon told me that he wasn’t going to bother pleasing you anymore,” Aemond spoke sternly, now moving up so you could see his face, the barely still lit candle illuminating the detailing on his eyepatch, and the scar that peaked from above it.

“So, I didn’t think he would mind if I did the job for him,” he added, and you could not deny how your pussy pulsed once more, a new wetness gathering in between your thighs. “A-Aemond.” You began, but he cut you off once more. “And by the sounds of it, I did the job better than he did.”

“You don’t know that.” You sputtered, and he gave you an incredulous look.

“Oh, ñuha doru-borto riña. ao gīmigon bona nyke kostilus ao sȳrkta than ziry mirre gōntan.” Aemonds rough voice that was somehow so smooth at the same time cut through the air like ice. Yet it was not in your mother tongue, you understood it all the same. ‘Stupid girl... you know that I please you better than he ever did.’

Your mouth dried out. “Aemond.” Your voice a warning, to both him and to yourself, why did him speaking Valyrian have to make your cunt flutter so?

“Tepagon isse, byka mēre.” Give in, little one. Aemond leant over your body, which was pressed against the headboard, his eyes dart down to your lips, which a red, on the border of bleeding from earlier. His tongue darts out to wet his own lips, and the sight makes your body weaken, alongside your resolve. “Tepagon isse,” give in.

Your wide, conflicted eyes bore into his one remaining lilac eye, which seemed to know your thoughts, your very being. You let yourself be distracted by his face- even for just a second. Yet that lead to your lips being pressed harshly against his, hand wrapping into the silver gold hair that you admired so much even before tonight. His hand moved and groped at your tits, while your free one moved to his trousers, unlacing them with little to no struggle.

Aemond sat up on his knees, letting you work on the laces, meanwhile he stripped himself of the leather cloak on his shoulders and the shirt gone with it.

“Please, take me before I change my mind.” You mutter, ridding him of the trousers as he pulled them from his legs. “Ask politely, in Valyrian.” His voice was nothing short of a demand, and you decided to swallow your pride, just this once.

“Gūrogon nyke, kostilus.” Take me, please. Your stumbly voice came out, unsure of your pronunciation still, but its good enough for him. His long and slender finger made its way to trace your slit, pushing its way into your pussy, ensuring its wet enough for him.

Once he decided it was, he began stroking his cock leisurely. It was long, unlike Aegon’s. Aemonds tip was a pink that contrasted the pale skin of his shaft, which looked strained, veins visible. Your mouth watered at the sight, your hand replacing his as you jerked him, leading him towards your entrance as you did so, pushing the tip of him in.

You slowly slid so he got further inside, your head falling back on the pillow, the pleasure laced pain was almost too much for you already. Aemonds hair fell by the sides of his face, as he waits for the nod you give him, and he begins thrusting. His one visible eye is hooded with pleasure as he snaps his hips tentatively. With each movement, he hit the spot inside of you that made your moans become slowly more shameless, the sight of him in pleasure gave you an immeasurable amount back.

“Qogralbar nyke alike iā live.” Fuck me alike a whore. The words are all the confirmation Aemond needs to lose control, his thrusts growing quicker and more forceful, his large hand moving to grab your throat, kissing you as he pounded you. Your moans emptied into his mouth, one of your hands going downwards to circle your clit, determined to reach your release.

He pulls back, putting both his hands on the headboard, the abrupt movements of his hips getting faster, his cheeks flushed and mouth ajar he groans softly. Your moans become more wanton as you get closer to your peak, and he is approaching his too.

“Māzigon lēda nyke.” Come with me. He didn’t have to say it twice as you tumbled over into your release, your nails scraping up his back with a long, drawn-out moan followed by whimpered swears. He came with you, his weight coming down on you but not fully as his thrusts slowed, his warm spend nestling itself within your womb.

As the minutes after your orgasm continued, you wandered what to do next, the only thoughts plaguing your mind were your good brother, and how he was infinitely a better lay than your husband.

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proxima-writes · 10 months

Text

seven - a joel miller story

pairing: post-outbreak jackson!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 5k

summary:

Joel Miller has spent twenty years pushing the grief and guilt surrounding the death of his daughter, Sarah, to the darkest recesses of his brain in favor of survival. And I've been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted Your dad is always mad and that must be why

Living a more quiet life in Jackson means the ghosts of his past have returned to haunt him. He finds his solace in you, the town librarian.

author's note:

another work for the folklore anthology! i'd really love to hear your thoughts on this one, so please drop a comment or slide into my inbox if you're so inclined.

content warnings/tags:

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, ANGST, themes of grief and loss, feelings of guilt, discussions of child loss and sibling loss (unnamed brother of reader), descriptions of panic attacks, nightmares, alcohol use, unprotected p in v, vaginal fingering, pet names, a reference to the harry potter series. let me know if any are missing!

“Look at me, daddy!”

Joel watches as Sarah pumps her legs, soaring high into the cloudless blue sky. He has to shield his eyes against the painfully bright sun. He smiles as she laughs, the sound blanketing him in joy.

As she swings down back towards the ground, Joel hears a panicked shout. He turns, a man running toward him over the hill, arms waving. He can’t hear what the man is saying, he’s too far away.

A shot rings out and the man drops to the ground in a heap of limbs. Joel can see a line of soldiers, guns trained toward him.

“Sarah, we have to go!” He shouts, turning back to the swing set. The swing is empty. He searches frantically for his daughter but the little girl is nowhere to be found. “Sarah!”

He’s running, putting space between him and the soldiers. He begs and prays to a God he’s always had trouble believing in that he finds his baby.

He sees her, finally. She’s standing in the middle of a field, her back to him. It’s dark now, he’s not sure when that happened.

“Sarah! Sarah, we gotta go, come on, baby,” he shouts. She turns, slowly, her arm braced around her stomach and a horrified expression on her face. Joel drops to his knees in front of her, taking her face between his hands. “Baby? What’s wrong?”

She lowers her arm, bright red blood smeared on her tan skin and a blossoming stain on her shirt. Her voice shakes as she whispers, “Daddy?”

Joel wakes with a shout, sitting up in bed as he struggles to catch his breath. His sweat damp skin erupts with goosebumps in the cold air of his bedroom. He presses a hand to his chest, the tight grip of panic around his heart easing incrementally as he fights for breath.

The brief glimpse of darkness between the curtains covering the window tells him it’s still early and a glance at the clock on the nightstand confirms as much. He groans, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. The floor is frigid against his bare feet and he shivers with the unexpected chill.

In the kitchen, he makes himself coffee before slipping his leather jacket on and heading to the back porch. The dark sky has lightened the slightest bit, the encroaching dawn painting the inky sky a faded purple as the sun creeps up from its slumber.

From his porch, Joel can see one of the side entrances to the cemetery. He watches as a figure emerges from beyond the concrete walls and it takes him a moment to realize it’s just you again.

You, the curious woman that runs the town library. He’s seen you on other occasions like this morning, where he’s trying to shake off the remaining webs of discomfort that have been spun in his mind. You shut the wrought iron gate and like you can feel his gaze on you, your head turns, keen eyes regarding him.

You approach his house, stopping at the bottom of the porch. You stand with your hands stuffed in your coat pockets, head tilted slightly and a smile on your lips as you say, “Up a bit early, aren't you?”

Joel takes a sip of his coffee. “Could say the same about you.”

“Early bird catches the worm,” you reply, smiling at him. He swallows. You make him nervous. Despite the few interactions he’s had with you, he feels like you know him to his very marrow, and that scares a man like Joel.

“More like a night owl.”

You chuckle. “A bird is a bird. I’ll see you around, Joel Miller.”

He stares after your retreating figure for so long his coffee has gone cold. With a sigh, he returns inside, thoughts no less tangled than when he first stepped outside.

________

You survey the rose bushes you’ve cultivated, rows of different varietals beginning to blossom or in full bloom. The peony buds have gotten larger and any day now they should blossom as spring really begins to show her colors. The mornings and evenings are still cold, but the afternoons give way to hotter temperatures and thankfully you’ve been spared one last late winter snowfall.

You prune some of the faded blooms from the bushes, collecting them for composting. When you’re done, you return inside to wash up and change before heading to the library. As you scrub beneath your fingernails, your mind drifts to the specter of Jackson, Joel Miller.

There’s something about him that draws you in, despite the arms length of distance he tries to keep from everyone. You saw him the other morning after you made your way through the cemetery long before it officially opened, laying extra flowers around some of the less tended graves. It’s not the first time, and based on what you know about the older man, it won’t be the last.

________

Since Joel isn’t scheduled for a patrol for a few days, he decides to visit the library. Too much idleness is dangerous for a man like Joel, who is in constant search of something to keep his mind and body occupied so that his thoughts don’t drift to darker places.

You’re sitting at the circulation desk when he enters, bent over a book as you read off the log number on it and write it in a journal under your hand. You look up, flashing him a smile that briefly suffuses him with warmth.

“Hey,” you say in greeting. He nods, intending to just walk past you, but you continue to ask, “You need help finding anything?”

“No,” he replies shortly. You nod, smile faltering the slightest bit. Joel feels a flash of guilt before he tamps it down and walks deeper into the library.

He explores the tidy shelves until he finds himself in the fiction section, reading cracked spines and faded letters until one catches his eye. It’s a small paperback sandwiched between two larger books, a pink spine etched with white lines and faded blue lettering. He wiggles it free, turning it over in his hands.

A Wrinkle In Time.

The blue cover with a snowy mountain scene, three children carried in an egg over a town by a flying white creature used to stare up at him from Sarah’s nightstand. It was her favorite book, one she had him read to her at bedtime when she was five. It was the same book he’d caught her reading under the covers with a flashlight past her bedtime when she was eight, the same one she carried everywhere until it fell apart and he had to replace it when she was ten.

Joel’s hand shakes and he has to steady himself by holding the bookshelf. His chest feels tight, too small of a space for his rapidly pounding heart. The words printed on the books in front of him all blur together as he tries to focus, tries to breathe, tries to stay in the present.

There’s a hand on top of his. Delicate, soft. A voice he knows he recognizes but can’t place is saying his name, but it sounds like it’s coming through layers of cotton in his ears. He squeezes his eyes shut.

After a long moment, that vise grip around his chest eases and he swallows around the lump in his throat. He blinks, spots dancing in his vision as his eyes adjust to the light once more.

“Joel?” You ask, voice quiet. It makes his muscles tense, coiled tight like he’s ready to run. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he replies roughly. He slips his hand out from beneath yours. “‘M fine.”

You’re silent for a moment, keen eyes making him feel flayed open and exposed as you watch him. Finally you ask, “Was it about your daughter?”

“No,” he snaps. Rage blinds him, white hot in his vision as he moves past you.

“Wait,” you call out. Joel pauses but doesn’t turn. “It’s okay, you know. To still carry that pain. Did you ever even allow yourself a chance to mourn?”

He turns, looking at you incredulously. “What the hell do you mean? I mourn every fuckin’ day.”

“No, you grieve. You let the thoughts of Sarah—“

“Don’t. Don’t you say her name,” he hisses, stepping closer in his anger. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about me.”

“—haunt you to the point of pain. You think I don’t know why you’re out there on your porch so early some mornings? It’s the same reason I’m out in the cemetery,” you confess. You take a deep breath. “You’ve been fighting for survival since the outbreak and you never gave yourself the chance to mourn. You owe it to yourself and to Sarah to try.”

Joel’s chest heaves, a venomous retort on the tip of his tongue when a voice calls out your name from the front of the building. With one last look that speaks volumes with no words, you disappear from the stacks.

Joel leaves the library and heads straight for the Tipsy Bison. A young man is polishing glassware when he storms in, door slamming shut behind him.

“What can I get you?” The man asks as Joel slides onto a stool.

“Whiskey,” he demands. A glass is set in front of him, amber liquid poured until it's halfway full. He brings the glass to his lips and lets the alcohol burn its way down his throat and erase the taste of guilt on his tongue. Setting the glass on the bar he says, “Another.”

He drinks two more glasses in the same fashion, glaring at the boy when he hesitates to pour his third drink. He sips his fourth pour slowly, letting time pass as it always cruelly will.

Finally, when the light beyond the window panes starts to fade, he heads home, hands shoved in his pockets as he wills one foot in front of the other, gaze fixed on the pavement. It’s not a long walk but it feels like it as he cuts between buildings to avoid having to make conversation with people.

When he reaches his house, he stomps up the steps as he digs in his pockets for his key. His boot knocks into something on the ground by the door. He bends over to pick up the object.

A Wrinkle In Time.

Joel opens his front door and collapses on the couch, book pressed to his chest as a dreamless, whiskey tinged sleep consumes him.

________

“Stop running! Put your hands up!”

Joel sets Sarah on the ground, raising his hands above his head. “We’re not sick! My daughter, she hurt her ankle,” he shouts.

The soldier keeps his gun trained on them as a staticky voice over the radio says something he can’t make out. His finger moves from rest to poised over the trigger, the barrel of his gun braced against his shoulder as he takes aim.

“No!” Joel shouts as the gun goes off. He launches himself in front of Sarah, wrapping his arms around her and bracing for the impact and the shocking pain.

The pain doesn’t come. He slowly opens his eyes, expecting to see the soldier and his gun but instead he sees Sarah, a shocked look on her face as she clutches her stomach, dark blood staining her fingers. She’s far away, not right behind him like she had been.

That’s when Joel notices the weight in his hands, the cold press of metal to his palms. He looks down at the black rifle in his hands, then back up at Sarah.

“No!”

Joel wakes tangled in his sheets, panic coursing through his veins and a hoarse shout of Sarah’s name fading in the dark. As he chokes on the air his lungs are desperate for, he glances at the clock. It’s early again, too early for the rest of the town to be awake save for the people scheduled to return from patrol in a couple hours.

He runs a hand over his face with a sigh before getting up. It’s been a couple weeks since he last had a nightmare, the product of back to back patrol shifts and helping with a building repair that left him so blissfully exhausted his traitorous brain couldn’t torture him, but it seems they’ve returned with a vengeance.

Joel gets dressed and heads downstairs, making himself coffee that he brings out to the porch. He watches the cemetery gate, part of him hoping he sees you and a larger part hoping whatever haunts you has left your peace intact for the night.

Like his thoughts have conjured you from the ether, you step outside the cemetery gates. He sees the brief moment of hesitation when you notice him sitting on his porch, but a forgiving part of you must urge you closer. When you reach the porch, you regard him with that same look that makes him feel like you can see right through to his wretched soul.

“You’re up early,” you comment knowingly.

“So are you.”

“So I am.” You take a deep breath. “Come with me. I wanna show you something.”

You don’t wait for his response before you’re turning, heading for the gate and back towards the cemetery. Despite his better judgment, Joel follows, taking wide steps to catch up with your quick stride.

You walk the winding dirt paths between the headstones with sure steps that Joel follows with uncertainty. He’s never been in the cemetery, has never had a reason, so he appraises the headstones with a morbid curiosity, reading the names of people he’s never met. He notes that a number of the sites have flowers in various stages of freshness.

After a few minutes, you stop and Joel glances at the headstone you’ve paused in front of.

“Tommy had it put in a few years after he got to town,” you say quietly. “He told me about her…about what happened.” Joel takes a step closer, dropping to his knees. The damp earth cushions the fall, early morning dew seeping into his jeans as he reaches out to trace the carved letters of his baby’s name.

“I’ll…I’ll give you some privacy. I just thought you should know she’s here.”

As you turn to leave, Joel reaches out and wraps a tentative hand around your knee. You look at him in surprise as he murmurs, “Stay with me?”

You lower yourself to the ground, settling in beside him as the sun rises and the world around you wakes from its slumber.

________

You sit together in front of Sarah’s headstone for about an hour before Joel stands with a groan and mumbled curse. He holds a hand out to you to help you up, the gesture leaving you nearly pressed together. You search his brown eyes, hoping for a glimpse of relief but it’s still too soon to tell.

“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly, stepping back and clearing his throat. “For snappin’ at you in the library.”

“I understand. I made a lot of assumptions that day,” you reply. He laughs, though it’s strained.

“Yeah, well, if there were still a lottery around I’d tell you to buy a ticket. You were right on the money.” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “Thought I was gettin’ better. After all that time with Ellie…I felt like I had a purpose again.”

“Maybe that’s the issue. Thinking your purpose is tied to someone else.”

His brow furrows. “How do you keep doin’ that?”

“Doing what?” You ask.

“Seein’ right through me.”

You smile at him.

“Like attracts like, Joel. Remember that.”

________

Joel starts visiting Sarah’s grave regularly. Sometimes it’s early, the result of another nightmare or returning from patrol, and sometimes it’s later in the evening, when fireflies begin to flicker in the grass as spring wears on. He takes the worn copy of A Wrinkle In Time that you left him, reading a chapter of it out loud each time as he sits with his back pressed to the stone marker.

One thing he notes with growing intrigue is how there’s always flowers on a number of the headstones, including Sarah’s. It’s a reminder that he’s not the only victim of loss, even if his own still feels like a gaping wound some days.

He visits the library again, a bag full of books he found on his last patrol shift heavy on his back as he enters the building. You look up from a book you’re reading as the door shuts, smiling at him.

“Hey,” you say in greeting. “You need any help finding anything today?”

“No. Brought you somethin’, though,” he replies, hefting the bag onto the counter and opening it to reveal his bounty. “Found ‘em last patrol.”

You reach in and pull two of the books out, your grin downright ecstatic as you look at him. “The Lord of the Rings?”

“Complete set. You ever read it?”

“When I was younger,” you murmur, fingers tracing the cover of the book. “Thank you, Joel.”

His heart pounds as he looks at you, smile bright and eyes soft. You remove the other books from his bag, laying them out and checking them for damage. He likes watching you work, the gentle way that you flip through the time worn pages soothing to him as he stands there.

“What’s your favorite book?” You ask, glancing at him as you work.

“Not much of a reader. Sarah was, though. She would tell me about the books she was reading,” he says, voice catching on Sarah’s name. “She loved A Wrinkle In Time. Started the Harry Potter series, too. When the last one came out she made me take her to the bookstore at midnight just to get it.”

“My brother did the same,” you reply. “Dressed up and everything.”

“Your brother, huh?” Joel asks. You stack the books, avoiding Joel’s gaze.

“He was about Sarah’s age. Twelve. I was seventeen when…everything happened.” You pause. “The night that everything started happening, I had actually snuck out of the house. Went to a party in the woods. I made it back home just as the grid went out but when I got inside…”

“You don’t gotta tell me this,” Joel says.

“When I got inside, my brother was sitting at the table, covered in blood. Our parents had attacked him and he fought them off as best he could. He could feel the infection, you know? Knew something was wrong. He told me to leave.” You take a deep breath, your eyes returning to the present. A tear slides down your cheek and you brush it away quickly. “If I had been there—“

“Don’t,” Joel interrupts. “You can’t blame yourself.”

You laugh, looking at him incredulously. “Pot meet kettle!”

Joel laughs with you, a boisterous sound he hasn’t heard in years. It feels almost rusty in its disuse. “Thank you for tellin’ me,” he says when quiet descends once more.

“It’s only fair, right? A tragedy for a tragedy?”

“I don’t think that’s how the sayin’ goes.”

You shrug. “That’s how the world goes, though.”

________

As spring starts to fold into summer, Joel finds himself growing closer to you. It starts with visits to the library when he’s off from patrol, helping you shelve and catalog books. Soon, he’s spending so much time there that he’s still around when it’s time for you to lock up and he offers to walk you home or to the mess hall for dinner.

Dinner turns into the occasional drink at the Tipsy Bison. Those nights are his favorite, watching as you try to play darts after a few drinks and laughing when you pout after each missed shot.

Better days still give way to troubled nights, though. He wakes on one such night drenched in sweat, the nightmare just a haze of fear in his mind. It’s early, of course, so he takes a brief shower and dresses before grabbing his coffee and A Wrinkle In Time to make his way to the cemetery.

The ground is soft beneath his footsteps as he takes a now familiar path to Sarah’s headstone, seating himself on the damp dirt. He reads for a bit before the creak of hinges alerts him to someone’s arrival.

You enter through the front gate, a pile of flowers wrapped in butcher paper in your arms. He watches as you lay flowers around the graves with care, moving steadily among the rows until you’ve reached Joel.

“You do the flowers?” He asks. You take a seat beside him, gathering a wilted white rose from in front of the headstone and replacing it with a spray of yellow flowers.

“Some of them. Sometimes people come to me for arrangements to bring themselves,” you reply.

“Why?”

“Because I still believe in beautiful things,” you tell him with a shrug.

Joel watches you set the flower carefully on the ground in front of Sarah’s headstone and it feels like the final piece of a puzzle slotting into place. In the silence between you, his mind drifts to Tess, who he cared for but couldn’t give himself fully with the way he was when he knew her. He thinks about Bill and Frank and the kindness they showed him even when he didn’t show his gratitude. He thinks about Ellie, who stuck by his side despite everything he had to do to make it here.

Then there’s you, who’s planted roots in his heart like the flowers you grow and filled him with a light he hasn’t known in a long time and it leaves him feeling damn near winded. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, when a crack of thunder precedes the opening of the sky, heavy raindrops filtering through the tree branches.

“Shit!” He curses, shoving his book into the waistband of his jeans beneath his shirt to protect it from the rain. “Let’s go,” he says, tugging you up from the ground and keeping your hand gripped tightly in his as you both sprint for his porch.

You’re both drenched from the sudden summer downpour, rain dripping from your clothes and hair to the porch as you race up the steps. Another crack of thunder has you jumping, laughter spilling from your lips that joins the melody of the rain on the roof.

As your laughter fades, Joel pulls you closer by the hand still held tight in his. He searches your face for any sign that you might not want this, might not want him, but to his relief he finds none. He wraps an arm around your low back, pressing your rain soaked body to his as he tilts his head to capture your lips in a gentle kiss.

The kiss remains soft, gentle, a smooth glide of his slightly chapped lips against yours. You taste like rainwater but feel like sunshine, a perfect dichotomy. Joel pulls away slowly, not wanting to lose the connection but starting to feel uncomfortable in his soaked clothing.

“Come on,” he says, “let’s get some dry clothes.”

He leads you inside the dark house and upstairs to his bedroom. He finds a shirt and boxers for you, turning to give you the privacy to change as he does the same, setting the damp book on his nightstand and leaving his wet clothes in a heap on the floor.

“I’m decent,” you announce. He turns, breath catching at the vision you make wearing his clothes, your nipples pressing against the worn cotton shirt. He reaches for you, wrapping an arm around your waist and a hand behind your neck to pull you into another kiss.

You pull away first this time, stepping back and crawling into his bed. You burrow beneath the covers before lifting the edge, an eyebrow raised at him in invitation. He slides in beside you, blankets settling over your bodies as you rest your head against his bare chest.

“I’m scared,” Joel says, a whisper in the dark.

“About what?” You ask, lifting yourself up to look at him. He swallows around the lump in his throat.

“Losin’ you. Losin’ Ellie. Losin’ Tommy.” A pause. “Like I lost Sarah. And Tess.”

“Fear doesn’t stop death, Joel. It just stops you from living.”

________

Something changes in Joel with your words. He lifts his head from the pillow to kiss you, his body shifting beneath yours to push you onto your back so he can hover over you. This kiss is different, more desperate as his tongue slides against yours and his teeth dig into your bottom lip.

You slide your fingers into his hair, nails scratching against his scalp and making him moan into your kiss. He trails his lips across your jaw and down your neck as he urges your legs apart and fits himself in the space between your thighs.

His hips rock against yours, the friction making you gasp and pull on his hair. He chuckles against the skin of your neck before sinking his teeth against your pulse point, sucking a mark into your skin to match the one he’s left on your heart.

One of his warm hands lifts your borrowed shirt, bunching the material beneath your armpits and exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. Joel dips his head to pull one nipple between his lips and he swirls his tongue over the hard bud, looking up at your face as he does. He does the same to your other breast, the delicious sensation of his mouth almost enough to distract you from the slow drag of his calloused fingers across your tummy and beneath the elastic of the boxers he’s leant to you.

He groans as his fingers circle your clit, gathering your wetness and spreading it over your folds with his movements. He leans up to kiss you again, deep swipes of his tongue exploring your mouth as your hips chase his hand with increasing fervor.

“You’re so good, sweetheart,” he murmurs. There’s a bright flash of lightning that illuminates the room, giving you a clearer view of the adoration simmering in his eyes.

You press a hand to his cheek. “You deserve good things, Joel Miller.”

He drops his head, forehead pressed to your collarbone. He slips two fingers inside of you as thunder rattles the windows, the storm overhead matching the one in your body as he works his digits with slow, methodical movements, curling them with each pull from inside of you.

“Need you,” you whimper, “please, Joel, need you.”

“You got me,” he says, sitting up to tug the boxers down your thighs and pull the waistband of his down, freeing his cock that he takes on his fist, rubbing it through your folds.

He notches the thick head of his cock at your entrance, pressing inside of you with a single deep thrust that has you gasping his name. There’s another crack of lightning as he bottoms out, hips pressed flush to yours.

Joel starts to move, setting a leisurely pace, notably unhurried as you relish in the weight of him against you. His forehead drops to yours and he peppers your face with soft kisses, from your forehead to your nose to your chin. You smile at him and to your surprise and delight, he grins back.

He sits up, gripping your hips for leverage as his rhythm changes to something more carnal, more desperate, sharp thrusts that drag against something inside of you that makes stars dance across your vision. You’re moaning his name with each collision of his hips to yours and his head drops back with his own deep groan as you tighten around him with your release.

“Fuck,” he shouts, withdrawing quickly and taking himself in hand, hot splashes of cum hitting your stomach as you gasp for air. Joel leaves the bed for a moment and returns with a damp cloth he uses to wipe you clean before tossing it to the pile of wet clothes and climbing back into bed beside you.

He pulls you close and with your head on his chest, you let the pounding rhythm of his heart lull you back to sleep.

________

“Look how high I got, daddy!”

Joel watches a young Sarah deftly climb the limbs of a tree she found on their hike. He laughs as she straddles the last branch she can reach, waving down at him with a bright grin on her face.

“That’s mighty impressive, baby girl, but can you get back down?” He shouts up at her.

“Of course I can!” She insists, slowly working her way back down the branches. She makes it to a lower branch but she can’t reach a foothold from where she hangs by her arms. “Daddy!”

“I gotcha,” Joel says, moving to stand below her. “Just let go, I’ll catch ya.”

“Promise?”

“Always.”

Joel’s eyes flutter open. The first thing he notices is the sunlight streaming through the open window. You must have woken up before him and opened it. The room is warm from the late summer sun, but there’s a breeze that rustles the curtains as he stands and stretches.

He can hear the clink of pans downstairs and he follows the noise, leaning in the doorway of the kitchen as he finds you whisking something in a bowl. It’s been weeks since that early morning together in bed and every day since you continue to help put him together piece by jagged piece.

You must feel him there, attuned to him as you always are, because you turn and grin brightly at him.

“There you are,” you say, crossing the kitchen to kiss him. “Was wondering when you’d finally wake up.”

“Can’t a man sleep in once and a while?” He asks, pulling you in for a second and third kiss. “What are you workin’ on?”

“A cake. It’s July 20th.”

Sarah’s birthday.

Joel’s breath leaves him in a rush. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and holds you tightly to him, your arms wrapped around his waist as you squeeze back.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“Always.”

Want more Joel Miller? Check out my masterlist.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou hbo

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veeluvss · 8 months

Text

attack

jj x reader

you are jj’s wife and you have two kids

1k words

i picked up the tv remote and paused the tv for the third time. something wasn't right. there were noises outside, weird ones. i couldn't pin point it but i couldn't convince myself it wasn't real either. i quickly texted jj who had asked me if she could stay late at work. it was only a simple 'when will you be home?' message before i turned headed up the stairs. i left the lights on, hearing my heart pounding in my ears. i cursed, seeing the door to isobella's room open. i didn't leave it open. the pit of fear grew drastically in my stomach and i clutched my phone in my hand. i peered in, noticing her lamp was on. her bed was empty, covers pulled back. i gasped silently, too scared to make a noise. where was bella? i looked around and then noticed the bathroom light on. i scurried across the hallway and opened the door. my seven year old stood there, soap and paper and water in her hair. "what are you doing?" i asked. "mummy i'm dying my hair like you," she said. "it's 2am!" "but mummy i wanted to do it like you!" she whined. there was another noise outside. a creak and i swear i could hear voices. i shut the bathroom door and looked down the corridor to grace's room. "come with me," i whispered, leaving on the bathroom light and grabbing bella's hand. she frowned and went to speak but i put my fingers on my lips. quietly, we ran down the hallway and i walked straight into gracie's room. she was only on her phone, thankfully not asleep. i turned her light on and she groaned but when she saw my panicked face she stopped. "what's going on?" she asked me. i shook my head and walked over to the bed. i lifted bella under the covers. that's when i heard the front door open. more voices - male. "call your mum," i told gracie. "right now. tell her it's a code red," i said. gracie nodded and began dialling JJ's number. i walked to her bedroom door and peered out. i could see someone stood on the stairs, looking down, talking to someone else. i couldn't make out what they were saying. "get in the en-suite and be silent," i told gracie. she grabbed bella who was silently crying and ran to her walk-in-wardrobe which had a secret door behind it to her bathroom. i turned the light off and texted JJ, telling her code red. noticing he was gone from the stairs, i crept back to my bedroom. i made sure the lights were off. i couldn't see them but they couldn't see me now. i grabbed the gun jj kept in her sock drawer and made sure it was loaded before heading to the top of the stairs. JJ had replied, letting me know she was on the way with the team - keeping the girls on the phone.

i came face to face with the robber as i approached the bottom step. in the dark, all i could see was his yellowing teeth as he smiled and the white of his eyes.

gracie's pov

"it's okay bella," i whispered, holding her close to me. my heart was pounding, i felt sick. bella had already been sick but mum was on the phone. "please hurry," i told her. "i'm coming baby, we're coming," she said. she sounded scared, terrified even. at first, she asked me tons of questions but when she got mums messages she stopped asking and gathered the team. i was shaking but trying my hardest to be strong for bella. "mummy," bella whispered down the phone. "mummy's here baby. you're okay," mum replied. i could hear voices downstairs, laughing. then i heard the first gun shot. "mum!" i groaned, louder than i wanted to. "we're one minute out. it's okay, it's okay," she said. i couldn't tell if she was saying it to me or herself but it did not feel okay. "please mummy," bella sobbed.

"stay where you are. we're coming in." mum said and hung up. i felt tears streaming down my face, not even realising i'd started crying. bella and i were curled in the smallest area possible in the corner of the bathroom behind the door. bella's head was hidden in my neck, her arms around me in a death grip but mine were around her just as strong. her small frame was shaking with fear and her puke stunk out the room but right now, i had to hold her and be there for her.

jj's pov

derek crashed the door down. my heart was beating a million miles per minute and i felt like i couldn't see or breathe. why my house ? why my kids and my family? i felt so angry. we entered the living room and i saw her. my wife. tied up to the coffee table, stripped down to nothing and bleeding down her thighs. i gasped and instantly ran over to her, removing the gag. she was sobbing. "it's okay," i said, wiping my tears. i grabbed the sofa cover and put it over her. "they're looking for the girls," she told me between her cries. "bathroom." she cried. i nodded and stood up. "i'll be right back, i promise." i kissed her cheek and ran towards the stairs, pulling morgan with me. emily ran to my wife and began untying her. i didn't even think about that, far too angry. rossi and alvez continued around the house.

at the top of the stairs, i saw them. standing in the doorway of gracie's room. "fbi put your hands up!" derek shouted, pointing his gun at them. one of them smiled, standing there proudly. the anger was bursting out of me. my jaw was clenched and i gripped my gun so hard my knuckles were turning white. he had a remote in his hand. a bomb.

#criminal minds #criminal minds evolution #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau head canons #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau imagine #jj x reader #jj criminal minds #jj

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lokisprettygirl · 10 months

Text

Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 29 here/ Series Masterlist

Chapter 30

Summary :The supposed last day at the tower goes eventful as a plan goes awry and in order to make you feel better Loki shows you his jotun side.

Warning: 18+, Smutty jotun Smut, Long chapter, almost 6k words, HUGE Canon divergence (Just me making shit up),sex, mention of stalking, mention of psychological torture, mention of physical and sexual assault, angst, insecurities, ptsd, self deprecating behaviour, panic attack, soft precious bean loki, polite bean Loki, Dalia, Melissa

(gif will make sense at the end)

"Hey you, follow me" Natasha said to you sternly so you looked at Loki and he looked away to not raise suspicions, you were already standing too close to him as it was. You followed her immediately to not piss her off or anything,

"Why were you talking to him?" She asked you as you tried to match her walking pace.

"Ummm Loki?" You asked her just to be sure and she glared at you,

"Who else was there with you?"

"Uhhh no one..well i was just curious about why his fiance was leaving so abruptly"

"What did he say?" She asked inquisitively and you gulped.

"He said that she's no longer his fiance and that he's not in love with her" she stopped, turned her head to look at you for a few seconds before she started to walk again. Hmm Black widow was a gossip girl, you were surprised by the knowledge

She took you to a space that looked like a locker room with bunch of lockers and you watched her walk towards one of them to key open one of them and then she took out a ziplock bag, it had your phone as well as your personal documents like your passport and keys etc that had been confiscated when you had came here.

"Steve said you can leave if you want but he'd rather have you stay and meet him tomorrow" your heart stopped momentarily as she started to speak because you didn't want to leave just yet.

"Ummm I'd stay to see him tomorrow" you told her so she shrugged, giving her an awkward smile you then proceeded to turn around to walk out but then she spoke again.

"Do you like him?" She questioned you nonchalantly as she went through the belongings in some other box she had picked from some other locker.

"What? Who?" You turned again to look at her but she was not looking at you.

"Dalia..Tony's PR agent, she is auditioning women for a fake public relationship for Loki. Nick wants him to join the team and Loki seems enthusiastic and wants to redeem himself so he will have to go under rigorous training. Dalia thinks having a partner that is from earth will have a positive impact amongst the people of earth" she looked at you as she finished her sentence and you gulped in nervousness.

"Isn't it deceiving? Fooling the people of earth with a fake relationship and getting them invested in it?" She smiled as you said that

"That's just how it has to be sometimes, who knows.. the couple may become real eventually, want to throw your name in the hat?" She asked you so you pretended to think about it. Ofcourse you wanted to throw your name in the hat.

"She won't pick me…I'm just …me" you chuckled nervously and she looked at you from top to bottom before she went back to messing with the belongings of God knows what person.

"It is not up to her, Loki agreed to this under one condition that he'd get to choose the lady of his choice..and i have noticed how you look at him"

"When is the audition?" You asked her to end the topic because she was starting to make you more and more nervous.

"In an hour.. a few of Tony's friends are coming" she airquoted the term friends and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, Tony's friends usually meant supermodels. Supermodel like Melissa.

"Ok I'll give it a try" she nodded as you said that and you turned to leave before she'd say something else.

You had to find Loki and tell him about this but he was in a meeting with Dalia and her team, an hour later you put on the same black dress you had worn at the party, did your makeup and went for this supposed audition, you noticed like ten other women in the hallway and then you saw Melissa there, of course she was there, you tried to not kill her right on the spot and decided to ignore her, surely Loki won't pick her right?

All of them looked like angels and then there was you, standing out like a sore thumb, you used to dance in school and college so you had given dance auditions before but you had no idea what was this even about?

One by one several women went in and immediately came out but none of them were leaving because they were told to stick around until the end.

The woman sitting next to you, her name was Rita, she was new in NYC and has been to one of Tony's lavish parties or two, she was 5'9 brunette and she wanted to work in movies eventually. Girls like her always fueled your insecurities because they always seemed as if they knew what they wanted and they knew how to get it, meanwhile you were thirty and had no idea what you were doing in life, you were floating aimlessly before you had found Loki, at least your love life seemed to be on a better track as compared to before.

"Aren't you too old to be here?" You heard Melisaa's voice so you looked at her, you didn't look thirty , that was one of the things you liked about yourself, you never seemed your age since as a child, always a few years younger so it was infuriating that she was picking on that.

"Aren't you too vapid to be here?" You heard Rita answering so you looked at her and smiled, she gave you a smile in return

"Besides he's like thousands years old" you mumbled nonchalantly and Melissa groaned before she went back to fixing her makeup.

Unlike other girls Rita didn't seem too obsessed with herself and she clearly didn't appreciate such remarks and stood up for you when she didn't have to.

"Is he really a thousand years old?" She asked you.

"More than that"

"How do you know that"

"Oh I read about him" she smiled as you said that

"Oh i didn't prepare at all, i should have come prepared" she chuckled nervously and now you felt bad for her. She didn't even know what she was getting into.

"Well he's Loki, he likes the color green more than anything, he's got all these magical powers that are beyond this world and i have heard from someone around here that he doesn't like those who are shallow from deep within so you're good to go" you said to her so she smiled before she got up and hugged you, so you told her good luck when it was her turn to go in, her audition or whatever it was lasted longer than other girls and you were the last one to go in.

As you entered Loki's eyes widened and you could tell he was nervous, he did notice your scent when the last girl Rita had walked in but he thought he was overthinking. What were you doing? You shouldn't be here at all.

"Ahhh y/n..sit down " You nodded as Dalia said that, she and her assistant were behind this desk, there was a chair farther away from where they were sitting, you could feel Loki's eyes on you and you didn't know if he was upset or happy with this step you had taken. You had no idea what you were doing here.

"I think as far as I know Loki has picked already who he wants but now that you're here we will give this a try y/n" Dalia let out an exasperated sigh so you looked at Loki and he gave you a look as if asking what the hell you were doing.

"Yeahh what do I have to do?" You asked Dalia and she looked at the woman sitting next to her then she asked you to stand up so you did

"Too short" she mumbled in her mouth and wrote down something on her notepad. He was almost a foot taller than you so she wasn't wrong but she didn't have to rub it in your face.

He then stood up and walked towards you and stood next to you. He had his black Asgardian ensemble on, you had seen the fit before and the color suited him so well. If you had no idea who he was or didn't know him as well as you did you would have been nervous as hell right now just standing in his presence.

"Smile and pretend to be in love" Dalia said to you, Loki wrapped his arm around your waist so you looked to the side and he leaned into you .

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked you and he sort of seemed upset by your presence here. Wait, Why was he upset?

"I thought you'd want me here" you mumbled while they clicked pictures after pictures, those pictures were going to be super ugly, you never looked good in motion.

"I don't" he whispered softly, he wasn't trying to be rude or hurt you but your eyes teared up anyways. You suddenly felt out of your element, the one person you thought would appreciate your presence here had just said to you that he didn't even want you there.

"Well there's chemistry for sure but her looks are ..just not it" Dalia said so Loki glared at her intensely.

"Her looks are perfect so how about you shut your mouth and move to the next process?" He said to her and she looked down, clearly embarrassed.

"I am sorry" he whispered in your ear before he kissed your cheek briefly and stepped away to go back to his seat. You were asked to leave after that so you did just that, unlike other girls you weren't asked to stay back. After a few minutes, Loki, Dalia and her assistant came out of the room and into the hallway.

"Thank you all for coming, but only one girl can win the opportunity to take part in this project and Loki will announce the name of the girl he has chosen" She announced so you crossed your arms as you waited for him to speak, his eyes met with yours and he quickly looked away as soon as he announced the name..

He picked Rita, the woman sitting next to you, he didn't pick you, he picked Rita. Rita was so happy, she was practically jumping in joy as if she had bagged the role of a lifetime, she turned to you so you snapped out of your thoughts and hugged her to congratulate her, then she got up and walked towards Loki and she asked him if she could hug him so he smiled and gave her a side hug. You allowed the hurt to sink in and as other girls were leaving, cursing Rita and what not, you followed them as well.

Why didn't he pick you? You made it so easy for him so why didn't he pick you? Your heart beat sped and you felt the panic increasing so you quickly took the elevator to your floor and almost ran to your room.

Loki knew he had hurt you with this decision but he was never going to pick you for this, he wished you had talked to him about this before you decided to join this stupid insulting audition. He wanted to go talk to you immediately but he had to attend the couple training session with Rita,

"So how did you know so much about me?" He asked her to break the ice and she smiled, she seemed okay, she wasn't anything like Melissa in the least but he wasn't going to walk this path all over again.

"Actually I knew nothing about you, the girl I was sitting with, y/n , she told me, bless her, she was so nice" he smiled as Rita said that, of course you did, you must have felt so nervous of everyone around you, he knew you well enough to know that but that didn't stop you from being kind to her.

"Lady Rita I need you to do me a favor"

After that humiliating ordeal you had returned to your room, showered and changed into a tshirt and shorts, and then you stood there in utter disbelief as you tried to wrap your head around what had just happened. You were brushing your hair when Loki appeared out of nowhere.

"I know you are upset with me–" he spoke immediately but you cut him off,

"How could you not pick me Loki?" You glared at him so he walked towards you, the black Asgardian fit made him look deadly but you weren't going to get distracted by his beauty, you were officially having your first fight with him right now.

"I pick you every day–" you cut him off again because the smile on his face was infuriating..

"I made a complete fool of myself out there Lo"

"You shouldn't have"

"Yeah I fucking shouldn't have" you raised your voice and you saw his jaw clenching, he stepped closer to you and grabbed your chin between his fingers before he made you look at him.

"Do not fucking swear at me darling"

He cupped your cheeks between his palms and kissed you softly to calm you down and it sort of worked as your chest stopped huffing and puffing with anger, he understood your plight and what you were feeling at the moment, he would have felt the same if he was in your place.

"I can't do this publically, I can't let those mortals know that you are my everything when half of them are out for my neck" you looked into his eyes, the fear was evident, you finally grasped why he wasn't keen on picking you as his fake partner, he was protecting you from the people out there who were going to harm him and the people he loved.

"Ohhhhh"

"Yes. Ohhh" you breathing calmed down slowly and you took a step away from him.

"What about Rita? Isn't she going to be in danger?" You asked him

"She will be in danger, that is why I have asked her to quit, made her realize that this job wouldn't be worth losing her life" he told you so you nodded. He did the right thing, he absolutely did but you still felt awful about the whole thing and you weren't able to just switch off the way you felt.

"What about Dalia?"

"Told you I would put my foot down this time, I do not need a partner to win the hearts of the people of Midgard, I need to redeem myself and repent for the hurt that i have caused them and I will do it on my own" you looked down and nodded as he said that.

"I wouldn't have looked good with you anyways" you turned around to go to bed but he immediately grabbed your arm and pulled you into his chest.

"What did you say darling?"

"Nothing..I just don't feel good right now, can you leave?"

"No I won't leave when you're feeling this way, especially when I'm responsible for it"

"You're not responsible for my insecurities Loki " you wiped your tears as you sniffled and his heart clenched. You put yourself out there and he wasn't there to support you, he couldn't have told everyone what you meant to him but and he knew you understood his side but it must have hurt regardless.

"I am sorry I wasn't there to hold your hand when you needed me to" his eyes welled up as well and it made you cry even harder "You have no clue how much I appreciate you being here for me, since the very first day, you know what you mean to me don't you?" He mumbled softly as his thumbs wiped your tears,

"But I'm not good enough"

"Who says that hmm?"

"Frigga did, Dalia says the same, and people will say the same thing when they find out about us, if they ever will" you sniffled again like a child and his heart broke at the sight, he knew the pain of not being able to feel enough in your own skin and he knew there was no other way to make you feel better then doing what he had in mind.

He took a step back from you and morphed into his jotun form slowly, the clothes he had on crumpled on the floor leaving him all naked and suddenly his temperature lowered down to the point where you could feel the icy cold air around you, you opened your eyes and you had to crane your neck up to even look at him now.

His Ruby eyes were staring back at you, you had never been this close to him in his natural form before so it took a bit of adjustment but seeing him like that only made you feel smaller, not in a bad way though this time. He was not a human or an Asgardian, he was a pure Frost Giant and you didn't think you had allowed yourself to fully register that fact before this moment.

Giants were the part of of conspiracy theories and folklore but you had one standing in front of you now, your eyes trailed down and the sight of his huge cock made you feel bashful so you looked up again and walked closer to him, he didn't flinch away when you traced your fingers on the marks over his chest but his breath hitched at the contact.

"Did I hurt you?" You asked him softly,

"No that feels good" his voice had gotten even deeper in this form, his teeth were sharper as well and you knew they very well held the strength to rip you in shreds if he wanted to do that.

"What do you think those mortals will say when they find out about our affair? A pretty little mortal like you allowing herself to be ruined by a monster that looks like me? What do you think they will think of us then?" He said firmly, you were more than willing to be annihilated by him but he was no monster.

"You're not a monster Loki, you're my baby" you looked up at him as your hands caressed up, he couldn't find a hint of lie in your words, he knew you loved him wholeheartedly but you weren't the only one feeling insecure in this relationship, a part of him always feared you won't enjoy touching him in this form but he could smell the desire radiating from you, the way you looked at him made him feel good , even if for a moment you made him want to remember who he was born to be.

Your lips could barely reach below his sternum so you pressed a soft kiss on the steel blue skin and your hands moved up slowly until you had your fingers curled around his neck, he let out a small animalistic growl as your fingers caressed the raised ridges that were covering every inch of his skin.

"You see me and touch me as if I'm worthy of your touch, as if I'm worthy of your affection or have earned the right to put my filthy hands on you" he murmured so you placed your thumb on his lips.

"You are worthy, you're worthy of every little affection i could offer you lo" you whimpered as his words pierced your heart, you never wanted to him to feel this way and it hurt to hear him talk like this, it must have hurt him the same to hear you deprecate yourself like this.

"I am not, these hands of mine--?" He wrapped one of his large hand round your throat, they were so big that his fingers almost met each other at the nape of your neck, you gasped at the sudden feeling "These hands have hurt people and killed them, they carry the blood of those innocent souls but nothing matters to you hmm? You love me so deeply and I love you my darling"

You mouthed the words i love you but no sound came out, you felt hypnotized by his gaze and his complete self.

"I truly wish I could have announced to all of the realms that you, you my precious princess were all mine and that I am blessed to have you but I can't, I can't put you in harms way my darling, but I need you to know that I am yours in every fucking way a man could be taken and owned by a woman"

"I know lo.. I know I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" you placed your hands on his and he immediately let go of your throat, he wasn't hurting you, not even close, he was barely holding you so you wrapped them around your throat again, he took a deep breath at the sight of your small frame cowering against him.

Sometimes he couldn't believe you even allowed him to touch you let alone permit him to do anything he wanted to do with you.

"You don't see it do you?" You whispered softly but a moan escaped your lips as his thumb brushed over your lips.

"See what?"

"How magnificent you are in every way Loki?" You looked up at him as you got out of his hold and walked closer to him until you were squished against his large frame. Your fingers trailed up from the back of his hands to his forearms and then they caressed his strong biceps before you moved towards those defined shoulders, your thumbs rubbed over his clavicle bone in a back and forth manner.

You wanted to study every inch of his skin, learn what made him tick and squirm in this form, he really enjoyed when those ridges were being touched, he had them all over his skin, even his cock, you bit on your lips at the sight of his hard on, there's no way he'd ever fit inside you right? You didn't think he would.

You got on your tiptoes as your arms wrapped around his neck but you still couldn't reach him so you could kiss him, a smile curved the corner of his mouth as he watched your futile attempt to leap at him. He quickly placed his palms under your hips so you jumped into his arms and he pressed you against the nearest wall, his lips latched onto yours in an instant, he tasted different somehow, so cold but so sweet, as your tongue slipped into his mouth you felt those sharp teeths and understood the damage they could cause to a fragile mortal like you but you knew he'd never hurt you.

Not unless you'd ask him to do so..

Just being in his giant godly arms, being pressed against his body so intimately while he kissed you passionately was enough to make you drip in your panties. This felt like a surreal dream and you never wanted to wake up.

Your fingers caressed over his scalp and he moaned into your mouth as you rubbed those thick ridges of his skull. His lips latched onto your neck as you ran your fingers over his head

"Sensitive?" You mumbled in his ears so he nodded.

"Do you like touching me like this?" He asked you and all you wanted to do was wrap him in a fluffy blanket and show him how much you enjoyed this side of him.

"I could do this forever lo, can I touch your cock?" He almost whimpered as you said that and grabbed one of your hands to place it on his cock, you had never seen anything like that, not even in your dreams, he was the size of your forearms and the sight made you blush.

He moaned as you worked him up and down slowly, he looked different and felt different but you felt the same with him, you got the same feelings, you just knew you'd recognise his soul no matter how many forms or shapes he will morph into.

He was your loki, your sweet precious baby.

"Do Frost Giants mate with humans?" He took your shirt off as you questioned him, no he wasn't going to fuck you, he was pretty sure you won't be able to handle him like this but he wanted to do a little something to please you both, he wanted to touch you like this, have his cold rough skin rub against yours, he wanted to make you feel good because you were making him feel heavenly.

"Mmmm I don't know darling but we will figure it out" he put you down on the floor and his fingers hooked around the waistband of your shorts as well as the underwear, he pulled them down at once so you stepped out of them as they rolled around your ankles.

The size difference was throwing him off and everytime he focused on it he only got more aroused. Your hands clutched onto his shoulders as he rubbed your wet lips back and forth, his thumb played with your clit simultaneously, your head rolled back against the wall as he worked his magic. His touch was so cold, every hair on your body stood up as he his fingers played with your cunt.

"You're so small my darling, you have no clue of my self resistance and what it's taking for me to not devour you this very moment" you heard him whisper but you could only moan in response, you wanted to feel that finger slip inside you but he had other plans, he switched positions with you so he was against the wall, then he turned you around and then bent down a little as he placed his cock between your thighs, you gasped as you felt his length rubbing against your wet dripping cunt.

"Goddd lokiii" you moaned as he humped his hips back and forth, your thighs were tightly shut together to aid his movement but aside from that you had to do nothing, you just had to stand there like a rag doll and take the mind numbing pleasure he was offering you. He put aside your hair and you felt his lips on your neck, he grabbed the skin between his teeth and nipped on it slightly as he continued to hump against you.

"Is this okay my love?" He questioned innocently as if he wasn't destroying you with every thrust of his hips, he was ruining you completely and he wasn't even inside you in his natural form just yet. The animalistic urge to be fucked by him was strong but you knew you won't be able to take him all the way in.

"Please don't stop lo ..oh god please..keep going..yeahh ..just like that" you mumbled incoherently so he turned you towards him and then continued to do the same thing, every time his cock rubbed against your clit the pleasure built more and more and you knew you won't be able to hold it in for long.

Back and forth he kept moving until your mind and body both were a wrecked mess in his arms.

As you came, your body convulsed with the intense release, he had one of his arms tightly wrapped around you while he held your throat with the other one to keep your head stable, sure he had made you cum plenty of times before but making you lose your mind when he looked like that felt cathartic to him. You wanted to touch him, you wanted to fuck him like this and the thought was enough for this moment. This was his first sexual experience in his natural heritage and he couldn't have been more blessed that it was with you.

Once you calmed down you didn't waste a second but grabbed his cock in both of your fists and began to fondle him, the groans and moans he was emitting sounded heavenly, the definite growl that escaped his throat when he finally came made you realize again that he wasn't human at all and that he belonged to some other species altogether and you were doing filthy things with him, it felt forbidden in a way and maybe this was the reason you never fell for an ordinary man, you were supposed to find him all along.

He came all over you as he exploded there wasn't a inch of your breasts that wasn't covered in his cum,

"You're so cold Loki" he braced himself against the wall behind as he watched you rub your cum with his fingers, his eyes transfixed on the movement of your fingers. How could you be this way and then ever doubt that you didn't belong by his side forever?

You just made love with a monster like him but he was the one ruined forever.

"So Sweet..like cantaloupe" his eyes widened as you licked your fingers clean and before he could say anything you grabbed his arm and started to walk towards the bathroom, he couldn't help but watch your arse jiggling with every step.

After the shower you made him sit down on the couch and then not to entice him again you put on a underwear and the black tunic that he had dropped when he had morphed into his precious self, then you sat on top of him, you wanted to be filthy with him again, ofcourse you did but you had to adore him in a non sexual manner, you needed him to know how much you loved this side of him.

"Hiii" he chuckled as you said that,

"Should I change myself?" You shook your head as he said that.

"Can you stay like this just a little longer?" You mumbled against his mouth as you kissed him softly. When you pulled away his eyes were teary and then your big burly man proceeded to place his head down on your chest. Your fingers curled around his nape and a few moments later he looked up again,

"Do you miss my hair?" He asked you so you smiled at him.

"Noo, not really, i like this change baby" he placed his head back down on your chest and allowed you to caress him and love on him as much as you wanted.

He must have thought you were trying to comfort him but the truth was you weren't able to stop touching him and his beautiful skin, he seemed so ethereal you never wanted to look away from him. He looked so strong and intimidating but in your arms he was just your pretty baby and you wanted to protect him from his own cruel mindset he had regarding his heritage and the prejudices he held against himself.

"What were we fighting about?" He chuckled as you asked him that.

"Mmm I am sorry i made you feel that way princess, I would never do that on purpose"

"I know lo..I just lose my mind when I see other women around you"

He wrapped his arm around you so you sat on him in a fetal position and rested your head on his chest, your fingers linked with his and you noticed those permanent darkened nails.

"I might have to leave tomorrow lo, Steve is coming back with Bucky" you said to him and he was immediately concerned, he didn't want you to leave and he needed you to stay right here, by his side, he knew he had to come up with something especially now that he knew that you were willing to risk everything to stick by his side.

You didn't remember falling asleep on him but you woke up the next morning itself, he wasn't there with you but had left a note.

"My beautiful girl, I love you, now and forever, never forget to remember that"

He must have returned to his room, you looked at the time and it was 8 am already so you quickly got ready, Captain was supposed to be back by now.

As you stepped out of the room you immediately bumped into Captain America himself and he seemed happy for a change,

"Y/n"

"Captain..how's uhh.. where's your friend" you asked him as you rubbed your arms together in nervousness.

"He is in the medical room, thank you y/n, you have no idea what you have done for me" you smiled a little as he said that. You kind of felt bad, you didn't come here to help him with his friend, you came here for yourself "Is there anything I can do for you?" He asked you so you shook your head and then his phone started ringing so he gave you a look before he walked away.

Maybe you should have told him that you wanted to stay but why would they allow you to stay here for no reason? You really wanted to go see Loki but he wasn't in the living room or the dining area, you were about to go back to your room but then you saw a woman approaching you and then she was taking you through the same hallway you had been to yesterday for the audition.

When you entered the room you saw Loki, Dalia and her assistant again. What were they up to now?

"Sit down y/n" Dalia said without even glancing your way, the chair was placed right in front of the desk this time so you sat down.

"Have you ever done this job before?" You looked at Loki as she said that. What job?

"Doesn't matter, that's enough of a waste of my valuable time here, appoint her, I'd rather have her follow me then a complete stranger" you looked at him confused as he spoke to Dalia.

"You know her?" She asked him confused so he glared at her.

"She has been living here for almost a week now, we met her yesterday, do you not remember that?" He asked her sternly and you saw her sweating abruptly.

"Okay but we have to ask her if she–" Dalia said to him and he turned away from her and took a complete turn in his chair to ignore her. His behavior amused you because he was always polite with everyone but knowing Dalia and the way she worked he was probably just done with her.

"Go ahead Dalia, ask her, I am not your boss or your supervisor here if I remember correctly" he said to her and you got more confused, what was happening? She sighed before she turned her attention back at you,

"Now y/n if you choose to accept this job opportunity your work here would be to assist Mister Loki here with his- as he states personal needs, the job would require you to relocate here and live here so there's no delay whenever Loki is in need of you. You'd also help him accommodate with midgardians rules and customs so he understands this world better and is able to improve himself with the knowledge, is that clear to you?" You looked at her shocked as she finished, your eyes met with Loki and he was smirking but when you said nothing he was starting to panic. He made all these plans because he wanted you to stay here, he forgot to ask if you wanted to do so, you were lying to your mom all this time and he wasn't sure if you wanted to continue doing that.

"Ummm I already have a job in Minneapolis… I understand the requirement of the job, i will be his assistant right?" She nodded as you said that "Okay ummm can we discuss the salary please?"

Now you would have done it for free, ofcourse, but turns out you did need money to survive and to be able to afford basic things in life.

"Sure, here's the number as of now, your caliber at this position and if slash whether Mr Loki is satisfied with your work then we will reflect upon any future raises, promotion etc" you looked at the number on the slip and your eyes widened, this paid more than any job you have ever had in your life.

You pretended to act casual and looked back at her, trying to appear as confident as you could before you spoke. The smile alone on his face was worth the step you were going to take,

"Well moving here temporarily or otherwise would be a hassle but I think I'll do it.. I'll take the job"

🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

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#loki x female reader #loki #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki x reader insert #loki x reader fic #loki x you #loki x reader angst #loki x reader smut #jotun loki smut #post avengers loki #canon divergent au #soft loki

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everythingne · 1 month

Text

Out Of The Woods, 6 (ls2)

Logan and Dhanishka finally have the necessary breakthrough, Olivia delivers some bad news that Dhanishka already has a backup plan for. Logan just has a really good time at the end.

warnings/notes: panic attack in the beginning, mentions of alcohol, i don’t really think much else? ok i KNOW viscaal is an actual dude but like. i forgot. so just imagine he has a brother or smthn idk. bit shorter but hey. this is for logan bc fuck williams man

“Isa!”

I, despite my best efforts, cannot get a solid breath in. Someone's hands are on my face, trying to rouse me from whatever's got my eyes squeezed shut. I gasp again and they're brushing tears off of my cheeks. When I hold my breath, choking on an inhale, the voice is panicked, telling me to breathe. Then blowing a gust of air on my face.

Somehow the air is what snaps my eyes open.

"Christ, Isa." Logan's saying, holding a phone to his ear as he presses my hair down with one hand, "hey, hey, it's okay..."

"Lo-Logan?" I rasp and he nods, a tiny, worried smile crossing his face as he turns to the phone and speaks in a hushed tone.

"I've got her, thanks Anya. I'll text you when I get her in bed."

When he puts his phone down, he hands me a water bottle but holds the bottom of it as I take small slow sips and try not to burst into tears yet again. He doesn't say anything, not even when I lower my hand from where it's been resting over his thudding heart.

"You called my sister?" I ask and he pauses, before nodding.

"Yeah. I figured Anya would know how to help you out of a panic attack." He says and I nearly choke on my water.

"I had a panic attack?" I ask and he stills, before he is everything around me. His hands are gentle, tucking me against his chest, one hand carding through my hair as the other holds me tight.

“Oh, Isa—“ He murmurs into my hair. I whisper out confusion, I had a panic attack? I never have panic attacks? Is that why I blacked out? When did he get here?

“Oh, Isa, I’m so sorry they’ve turned you into me.” Logan presses his hands to either side of my face, lifting me back so I can look at him. I remember how a week ago I was afraid of loving him, how I was terrified I'd lose him, and yet here he was as stubborn and comforting as always. As he had been in China. As he had been in Miami. As he now was in Imola.

"I can't do this Logan." I hiccup, letting him bring me into his arms once more, kisses trailing my forehead as he keeps me locked in tight, "I can't take another day of this comparing bullshit! They hate me, all of them in Ferrari. I don't even know if I still have Charles, and they keep pushing and pushing and I just wanna be good!"

"You are good. You are so good." He murmurs, "You're doing better than I did my first season. I had panic attacks almost every race, I still have them sometimes."

When I look at him in disbelief he sighs, "the difference between us is that you have Ferrari and I have Williams. Alex and I are actually cared for within Williams. They care about our health, our wellbeing. Ferrari always has and always will put you below Charles because he's the predestined or whatever. It's stupid. It's what drove Carlos out according to Oscar, who heard it from Lando so who knows--but my point still stands."

I sniffle, nodding, wiping at my face and huffing when I realize I had cried. Logan convinces me to swap seats with him, and he drives us back to the hotel. He follows the same procedures as he had with my migraine and we settle in to watch Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara-- one of my favorite Bollywood movies I'd forced him to watch with me before. Surprisingly, he remembers a lot of it and then embarrassedly admits,

"We watched it on your birthday every year, I kept up the tradition. Even though Dalton thought it was stupid I did that."

I can't help but kiss him then, fully of my own decision and his hands comes to my waist as he pulls me down to slot against him. I throw my right leg over when he bites my lip, groaning in the back of my throat. The Señorita scene is playing from his laptop, Hrithik Roshan is dancing his heart out, Logan's lips are soft against mine.

He pulls back.

"What are we doing?" He whispers, pausing Netflix by closing his laptop and leaving us in the soft ambient glow of Imola from the half curtained windows.

"What do you mean?" I say, because I know theres more weight behind his words. He just laughs when I press a kiss to his forehead, his arm secure around my waist like he never wants to let me go. I don't want him to.

"Do you love me?" Its so vulnerable it makes me stop and he brings his hand to my throat, but just to dance his finger tips along the side of my jaw until he takes my chin in his hand and pull me a bit closer.

"Because I've always loved you in the way soulmates love each other, but I think you love me like I'm just a casual fuck."

"If you always loved me like that why'd you break up with me?" I ask and Logan sighs, letting go of my chin to place his hand on one of my thighs, the right one I had thrown over his torso when the kisses got a bit more than playful.

Logan takes a long moment to answer, like he's picking each word with the upmost care, but he just says, "I was scared."

"Scared?"

"Of you. Of racing. Of everything." He sighs and I go to slide off his lap when his fingers dig in, keeping me rooted in my seat. Just like earlier, when he was calming me in the car, just like when he had eased my migraine. He needed me.

I card my hands through his hair, being them to his shoulders and smooth the tenseness I can feel. He closes his eyes, leaning his head back as he just lets everything finally break and he hands my his heart once more.

This time, I cradle it to my chest, trying to heal it while his heart tries to smooth out the sharp edges of mine.

"I had been doing so well. I had everything in my finger tips, just within reach and then... fucking Trident rips it out from underneath my feet. I didn't know what to do, and as far as I was concerned, you were just as guilty as everyone else. I... I needed control."

I had been right when I guessed that?

"And control was breaking up with me because it was a decision you could make without having to consult anyone else?" I say and he nods.

"I regretted it every day after. There were so many times my mom had to stop Dalton from calling you or Anya." A light smile crosses his lips and I giggle, taking the hint of his slight pursed lips to press a gentle kiss to them.

"Anya was so mad at you when we broke up, she told me she was gonna go to BWT and cut your brakes." I murmur against his lips and he starts to laugh, his hands slide up to rest along my ribs as he smiles against my lips and innocent pecks.

"I wouldn't have been mad if she had. I beat myself up over it for weeks." Logan shrugged, "but uhm... I talked with Viscaal last week. He was at the race for some sponsorship thing and he stopped to congratulate me on my placement. I asked him of you were involved and he and I talked about the crash for a long time."

"And?"

"And he convinced me you weren't."

The conversation hadn't been easy. Viscaal was sort of up in arms about the idea of even discussing it with Logan, but once let in on the PR nightmare the two were going through... he relented. But he wasn't easy on Logan, he hadn't been the whole time they stood in the blistering sun over the track.

"She literally was inconsolable, how do you think she had anything to do with it?" James Viscaal had said to Logan, eyes narrowing underneath his Formula E cap, "You seriously think Dubey had anything to do with it? She'd rather hurt herself than hurt you."

"I just... I can't shake the feeling--"

"Well you better figure out how, Sargeant, or you're gonna lose a perfectly good girl."

Logan sighs as he replays the conversation two or three times, then gnaws the inside of his lip before saying, "Sorry for saying that shit to you, about not trusting you... it was childish."

"I said stupid shit too, I'm sorry." I say and he presses a more firm kiss to my lips.

"Consider that an apology accepted." He says and I smile,

"Guess I'll have to keep apologizing--" I'm cut off when he sits up abruptly, pulling me to his chest just to lay me on my back under him as he cages me beneath him.

My phone vibrates. A few missed calls from Charles. I ignore him in favor of kissing my boyfriend.

I'll tell him I was sleeping.

Monaco is the race for publicity. Everyone knew Monaco, and if they didn't, they just didn't know it was called Monaco. I'm snuck into Williams the day before practice, when it's mostly just vendors setting up and some meetings happening in each paddock. I'm led by Logan to a back office, where I meet with two women, and JAmes Vowles.

Who... is sitting in on the PR meeting for some reason?

The woman who leads Logan's PR is named Astrid Marina, and while I fight to figure out while that name is familiar, Logan idly pokes at my leg. I look over to read what he's showing me and groan internally.

'Ferrari and Williams in talks over suing Sky News reporter Anthony Davis for blackmailing and harassment.'

"Too much is happening this season, I don't even wanna bother." I complain and Logan nods, coaxing me to rest against him as I yawn. It's been a long week of harrowing, exhausting training with Charles. Ferrari gives me no reprieve and as I work to show them I am a capable driver, they still beat me down. Still say Charles is better. It's grown to be annoying for both me and the Monegasque, and something we bond over now in the late hours between a bottle of wine.

"How has your season been with Ferrari so far, Dhanishka?" James asks and I give him a cordial answer that has him raising an eyebrow in question as he says, "Logan's told me otherwise."

I whack Logan's arm, making the Floridian laugh as he raises his hands in defense of his actions. Something in James' eyes tells me it’s alright to say, so I do.

"It's been a terrible time if I'm honest," I sigh, "Charles is praised, I'm ignored and blamed for every mistake, they barely talk to me on radios so I kinda have to figure it all out myself, I'm hardly given real strategy and kinda just make it up myself as I go."

"And with all of that you still place in the top ten every race, and have podiumed twice. That's an incredible feat, Miss Dubey, you should be very proud of yourself."

Somehow, James saying that to me makes it all click that, yeah, it was an incredible feat.

"Alright, Jasmine is here so lets get started." Astrid settles in her seat in front of us and Logan and I sit back up from our lazing positions as Jasmine--my PR manager of several years, takes her own seat next to Astrid. James leans back in his seat as well, taking on a more observing role to this. I wonder if its because he's worried about this, or if Olivia and Lando have told him to keep an eye on it. Not that they knew who Logan's manager was, as far as I was aware.

Jasmine shuffles her papers a bit before asking, "How are you both feeling? You're almost tied for points this season."

"Feeling pretty optimistic." Logan smiles softly in greeting to her, "The car has been preforming well and I've been doing better than where I started last year."

"I'd be a lot better is my damn car worked half the time." I mutter in complaint, making Logan laugh softly as he squeezes my knee.

"I'm glad you both are feeling better." Astrid smiles, "but lets not take up too much time here for small talk, you both have busy days tomorrow."

Yay. Qualifying.

"Dhanishka, social media is your forte here. Keep posting, keep promoting the relationship. You've been doing a fine job with that. Public appearances have been fine, though I've noticed a bit of tension? Is there anything we want to confirm or ask about..?"

"How long is this going on for?" Logan asks and I feel a weird pain settle in my chest. Why did he care?

"Uhm... well..." Jasmine hums, "I'd say you guys can decide when to call it off. Astrid wanted to make sure that, unlike with Lando and Olivia previously, you both have complete control of this situation."

"Oh, Dhanishka, work on befriending some of the WAGs. I know you and Olivia are decently close, but befriending the Lily's or even Carmen would be a good look." Astrid says and I nod, opening my phone to follow them on Instagram. I was already close with Lily Zneimer, she just needed to come to a race other than Australia.

"Logan, we need you to start posting Dhanishka as well." Astrid says and Jasmine nods softly, looking like she's a bit uncomfortable by how strict Astrid is being.

"Yeah, got it." Logan nods. Theres a few more formalities, some publicity things they want us to do and a joint 'couples trivia' gave they want us to play with a bunch of the drivers before the next race on the calendar.

We're dismissed with the promise of posting each other more on social media.

"Lets go to dinner tonight." He says, taking my hand in his and kissing the back of it. I smile and bump his shoulder with mine.

"Alright." I smile, its easy to be in love with Logan and he threads out fingers together and presses a soft kiss to the back of my hand.

Before I can leave though, James speaks, "Jasmine, Dhanishka, can we speak privately? I have Dhanishka's manager Lucille inside my office already.

And I nod, and follow James into his office after a quick goodbye kiss from Logan with his playful grin to match.

dhanishkadubey made a new post!

liked by alexalbon, lilymhe, lilyzneimer, and 459k others...

dhanishkadubey: the muse and her artist 💙🩵

tagged: logansargeant

lilymhe: blue suits u sooo much wow

logansargeant: sei incredibilmente bella (i think.)

⤷ charlesleclerc: you think right?? wtf??

user1: MY PARENTS. PARENNNTTSSSS.

logansargeant: you in blue... woof or whatever. xx

anyadubey: blue has ALWAYS been ur color.

user2: dhanishka in blue?? williams dhanishka?? please james vowles.

williamsracing: wow. logan better know how to fight.

⤷ logansargeant: which intern is this i have WORDS.

⤷ williamsracing: LOL CATCH ME FIRST FLORIDA MAN !!!

landonorris: LOGAN TOOK THESE???

⤷ dhanishkadubey: hes an artist ✨

user3: oh to be someones muse...

I'm walking through the apartment building Lando had sent me the address for ages ago. Logan's hand is firmly tucked in mine as he idly talks about the desserts we'd brought for the little dinner we're all having tonight. Olivia had invited over quite a few people, her family (consisting of Oscar and Lily, Ophelia and her wife Rosalind, and Oaklynn), Lando's siblings, (sisters Cisca and Flo, brother Oliver with his wife Savannah and their daughters Mila and Athena), Max, Kelly, and Penelope, Alex and Lily, Charles, and me and Logan. It was some sort of dinner party, and due to Logan's training running a bit long we were late.

Which, wasn't surprising.

Olivia said they'd be out on the balcony, so we let ourselves into the spacious apartment. Logan helping me with my shoes while I joke about balancing the three plates, but Charles cursing in Italian sharply makes us both freeze.

"Relax." Olivia scolds, almost like a mother, "she's gonna be fine, I've been in talks with multiple teams and--"

"They're just dropping her?! For Lewis? She's been beating him every damn race save for Australia!" Charles all but roars and I can hear the balcony door slam. Logan tenses, his jaw setting firmly and he tries to coax me back outside but I'm stubborn, I won't move until I know whats wrong. But I have a gut feeling I already know.

"Charles, calm down," Olivia tries again and then there's an overlap of a few voices I can't fight through.

"It's nothing set in stone! Relax!" Max's voice chimes above everyone else's and the room quiets as a soft sigh escapes Logan's mouth. He draws his arm across my back and hushes me softly, pressing a kiss to my hairline.

"Checo's moving to Formula E. I'm taking his spot next season, or I'll go to RB if they choose to move Daniel instead." Alex says softly, "which means Red Bull is set for next season regardless. Mercedes is taking Carlos to race with George, so they're set as well."

"McLaren's got me and Lando, so they're set. Neither Haas or Aston Martin are gonna change." Oscar sighs, "safe bet that Alpine and Sauber will stay the same too."

Max asks, "Is Logan staying with Williams?"

"Can we stop talking about this, they'll be here soon. Dhanishka doesn't even know yet." Olivia complains, "I don't know why you're all so surprised when Ferrari's been treating her like shit! They could care less if she's dead or alive on that track as long as Charles comes out on top. Plus, the FIA is going to investigate them for malpractice."

"Oh, actually?" Lando hums and I hear Charles confirm, and I bury my head against Logan's chest where I can hear his heart pounding. I'm trying to fight back the sense of dread forming in my gut.

"I know Logan's been trying to get her to talk with James." Alex says softly, "As far as I'm aware, Williams is resigning him with the second seat open."

Logan's grip tightens when he realizes I've figured it out and I push past him to enter the main room of the Piastri-Norris apartment. The warm Monaco air feels unwelcome as it floats in from the open balcony door where I can see the kids are being preoccupied from the inside argument. But inside, all the drivers plus Olivia stare at me like I'm not supposed to be there. And then theres movement and--

"Dhaniska!" Olivia's voice chimes and the Aussie to wrap me up tight in her arms, "Oh, honey."

"They're dropping me?" I hate the way my voice sounds so broken and despite what I want, Olivia nods.

"Last week I got both Daniel's and Alex's data from last season to sift through to help the Red Bull team figure out which driver we want next season." She starts to explain, running her fingers through my hair, "I knew some big changes were happening when we also got files for Lewis and Fernando. But.. Lewis just announced he was racing with Ferrari next season, while Charles was here. No one knew except Lewis and Vasseur. I-I can try and get you with some other teams but--"

"Olivia, I love you truly, but that's not your job." I say softly, squeezing her forearms, "A-and besides, I... I might've made a contingency plan."

The whole room pauses.

"Huh?" Logan says, tightening his grip on my wrist and I laugh. It's so stupid, how he thought his and Alex's little plan to have me replace the latter Thai driver would've gone overlooked by James. Who bit down at the chance to have me.

James pulled me and Jasmine into his office, my manager Lucie already inside. When I give a confused look, both women are motioning for me to sit in the middle of three chairs. Lucie on my left, Jasmine on my right. When I do, James takes a seat at his desk and hands me a file in the beautiful William's blue. The logo stamped on front, with words written under that make my heart pause.

'DUBEY CONTRACT DRAFT 1 - 2025'

"Dhanishka." Lucie starts, placing a reassuring hand on my knee as she sets down an identical folder, "Ferrari isn't going to renew your contract next year. I've known since Miami. Lewis is coming to race for them instead, which I thought I'd be more surprised about, but it is close to his retirement I suppose."

"He did always say he'd retire in a Ferrari." James nods, and the conversation continues, still led by Lucie.

"So, I've been in talks with almost every team--thanks to Olivia, who has an almost... deus ex machina power within F1. She got me write up contracts from Mercedes, Alpine, RB, and Stake... but they've all backed out."

James, taking this as his cue, sits forward, "Williams is going to need a driver next year. Alex is moving to one of the Red Bull teams. We'll be resigning Logan."

"Me?" I ask, "you seriously want me? The girl who almost destroyed one of your drivers PR?"

"PR is repairable," James waves a hand, "Your skill on the track is something I can relate to a young Alonso or even someone like Senna or Vettel. It's talent like yours, Charles' and Max's we wont get again soon. To podium on your first race, to stay consistently in the top ten with no support? That's unheard of."

"Williams is offering a three year contract." Lucie says and I finally thumb open the folder and stare down at it. The weight of it all becomes real when I see it all printed out.

James stands to leave as he says, "I'll leave you to speak in private."

So I can’t hide my smile as I announce, "You are looking at the second seat for Williams in 2025!"

I don’t think in my time of knowing Logan had he ever hugged me as tight as this. I can’t help but laugh as his chest presses to my back, his lips finding my cheek and undoubtedly smudging my makeup. I can’t find it in me to care.

Alex decides to make a show of giving me his seat (which includes him physically handing me a chair) and when I turn to hug Olivia and Lando in celebration, Olivia whispers to me, “I knew you guys would figure it out.”

Charles just about squeezes the life out of me with his hug, thanking me for driving with him, and I thank him for teaching me. I know later on we’ll have a more in depth conversation but for now he allows me to celebrate with Logan’s arm tucked firmly around my waist.

Kelly ends up pouring us all shots to celebrate, and when I smidge my lipstick drinking various glasses of champagne and other drinks, Logan fishes my compact and my lipstick out of my purse.

It feels full circle to have him hold the mirror while I fix myself up.

logansargeant made a new post!

liked by dhaniskadubey, oscarpiastri, alexalbon, and 345k others...

logansargeant: heres to second chances 💙

dhanishkadubey: AAAA MERI JAANNN <333

- logansargeant: MERI JAAN????

- dhanishkadubey: YEAH U FUCKING COLONIZER. MERI JAAN.

sebvettel: looking good rookies 👍🏻

user1: dhanishka in blue pls be a sign. pls.

dhanishkadubey: i am going to kiss u on the mouth

user2: the girlfriend effect on logans insta shut upp

oscarpiastri: loganishka since day 1

- dhanishkadubey: LOGANISHKA. IS THAT OUR SHIP NAME SHUT UP!!!

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liked by anyadubey, charlesleclerc, danielricciardo, and 783k others…

f1: Admist the starting investigation into malpractice within Ferrari's team following @ dhanishkadubey ‘s treatment over the past few months, Dubey released a statement about leaving the team.

“Ferrari was a dream, but the reality of Ferrari is that we are not compatible. I will continue to give my best performance for the team, wish them the best of luck next season, and send my love to the tifosi. Thank you for welcoming me.” - Dubey via Twitter this morning.

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taglist (open, and thank you to those on it now!)

@chasing-liberosis @justsomejess @struggling-with-delia @daemyratwst

#f1 fanfic #f1 smau #formula one fanfiction #logan sargeant social media au #logan sargeant smau #logan sargeant fanfiction #ls2 fanfiction #ls2 fanfic

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erika-xero · 7 months

Text

REPOSTOBER, DAY 12: Inwilis (2018-2023) LONG POST!

I started working on illustrations for @inwilis in early 2018 and since then we've become friends! I have made DOZENS of artworks of her beautiful characters over the past five years and I absolutely love each one of them. Starting with Isil, the center character of the BIGGEST, the MOST AMBITIOUS piece I did four years after this one!

The second commission was of Uriel! He is a guard and, more importantly, a charming fellow:

Araal (I'd vote for him in the Inwilis sexyman poll, but actually I'd vote for ALL of them if I could):

The next two were of Uriel and Gogram, @bitemerogers's elf boy!

And a solo pic of Gogram I did for @bitemerogers back then, as a bonus!

The next ones were in my mixed media art style! Sirgris de Heurteloup, majestic and dangerous:

Neldoranthir of House Vaennyre, war mage and politician:

Meadharan, God King of Cyriaca. He was a powerful God who chose to descend and live in the mortal realm with Eire, his mortal lover:

And Eire herself!

Malganth and Sherilyn Haleus, the infernal brother and sister!

Princess Blaithin, a child saved from the corpse of her mother:

Sibri Haelus:

2019!

The Wolf King Parthalan and Iseabel in the Helmet Hall.

Galadan, lord of the Andains, the semi-gods of the lands of Inwilis!

Isil, turning into her Ishvari Kalavar self!

2021-2022 THE TRIPTYCH

Pre-war part. Isil, Valora, Eire, Basha, Zian, Mazatecli, Meadharan and Syrège belong to @inwilis, Nill belongs to @bitemerogers. And some of the background characters are my own designs, hehe (the blue lady, the green-haired lady and the lynx girl!).

The fall of Meadharan! This one was stylized to look like a tapestry or fresco.

And the post war piece depicting Isil in the ruins:

Soft, warm and nice commission of the MacFragan Inn (also, say hello to Bunny, @bitemerogers's beautiful fae boy):

And a solo-sketch of Aeon (I LOVE HIM SO MUCH) as a bonus!

There's also a couple commission I did for @inwilis and @bitemerogers featuring their boys Rhis and Fin, but it's too hot to be shown on Tumblr :P so here is the BED:

And a bit of Rhys:

2023

Thallys (@bitemerogers) and Galadan (@Inwilis) in their secret garden (and very in love). I literally CRIED WHEN I READ THEIR STORY and almost had a heart attack TWICE.

Inwilis is not just a regular customer to me: she is a dear friend of mine and I love her stories and characters from the bottom of my heart. I hope that SOME DAY she will release some of her stories for general public and if she will shoose me as an illustrator for the cover for her book it would be an honor to me. Thank you for putting your faith in me and trusting me with your beautiful and complex characters!

#repostober #fantasy art #illustration #fantasy character #fantasy setting #fantasy illustration #bard #mage #guard #wolf #demigods #magicians

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hypocriticaltypwriter · 7 months

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Okay so the baby vamps is there anything that scared the boys at first while taking care of them?

I have baby vamps but right now I can’t remember their names. But I can remember the baby vamps I gave Star names

OK FIRST OFF... You gotta tell me/share more about your baby vamps to me some time!! I'd love to hear about them! And tell me those names too!🥺🥺

And to answer your question for yours truly, I'm gonna ramble a little if you don't mind~ 🤭

Now... Were the boys scared of anything in fatherhood?

𝔻𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕕

The thing that scared David when it came to taking care of both Anastasia and Chris was feeding... And not the feeding you think!

It was just eating in general- especially when they started to ween off of milk onto baby food and blood. Baby vampires tend to have quite an appetite when developing and he had such an anxiety of choking its not even funny. 😅

It was actually kind of hard to spot this little fear since David seemed the most collected and calm through the early months of parenthood... But Chrysta started to notice how he'd always stare very laser focused while she fed Annie or he'd lean or rock/shift uncomfortably a lot in his chair while never breaking eye contact when she would feed Chris.

And the second one of them would cough cause they got some milk or blood down the wrong pipe, or they gagged on the spoon- even if they made a face at a new texture or taste of baby food, all Chrysta had to do was blink and David was already up on his feet quickly pacing toward her and perching himself behind her to watch or aid.

"Is she choking?"

"No, David, she's just got a little food down the wrong tube."

"Her face looks red."

"It's her natural blush, baby."

"Make her eat slower. Kid's giving me a damn heart attack."

"I can't control that hun-"

𝙿𝚊𝚞𝚕

Literally anytime Tiffany cried Paul would start panicking. Was she hungry? Hurt? Fussy? Was it his fault?

As soon as he saw that bottom lip start quivering, and her eyes start to get glossy, he's already calling for Chrysta nervously.

He can't help but feel guilty afterward, sometimes he feels like he's leaving all the hard stuff for Chrysta to figure out cause he's too scared for the first time in his life of messing up. 🥺

But Chrysta was able to help him through it. Anytime he'd come to her for help, she'd simply walk him through what to do while letting him get experience till he felt a little more confident. He's much better now at it, even if he still goes into panic mode for a couple of minutes before the Daddy senses kick in.

"I don't think I'm cut out for this, Mamas..."

"You're doing just fine, Paul. See? She was just crying for her Dad."

"I guess..."

"Just wait, once those daddy senses kick in, you'll be able to handle it like a champ."

𝘿𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚

Legit everything about being a girl-dad terrified this poor man. Sure, he's raised Laddie as one of his own, and even besides that he's pretty good with kids- but when Jennifer was born, boy was he a wreck- especially due to the fact Chrysta was gonna be recovering a lot for the first few months after some birth issues.

I mean, this little girl fit in both palms of his large hands, and she was so fragile and delicate he was afraid of even breathing on her in fear she'd just break like porcelain in his arms.

He was used to being more rough and playful with Laddie, and his other coven members too, but now that he had a "little lady" on his hands, he was so scared of even letting her getting a scratch on the knee.

He was so cautious and careful of his baby girl- even to this day! Just watch this tall, quiet, brooding, and intimidating vampire go into papa bear mode when his little girl comes running up to him with tears in her eyes saying he needs to kiss the ouchy on her finger better. 🥺😭

ꪑꪖꪹƙꪮ

I've mentioned or stated before that Kat is a climber- on other things other than using Marko as her personal jungle gym.

You should watch this weird-footed toddler climb the walls of the hotel, and crawl upside down from the rafters while running away from Marko, thinking it's the funnest game to play when daddy wakes up!

Marko has different thoughts on this 'game'... 😬 wanna see Marko freak out for the first time in his life? Watch him scramble around with his arms stretched out in fear of Katherine above slipping and falling all the way down. Thankfully, she never has.

If there's one thing he wishes she never got, it was his reckless nature and dumbass energy.😔

#cherry answers #ask #cherry rambles #🍒daily dose of cherry🍒#the lost boys #tlb #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #the lost boys oc #tob david #tlb marko #tlb paul #tlb dwayne #tlb x reader #tlg #tlg au #the lost girls #the lost girls au

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rosanna-writer · 4 months

Text

we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (17/?)

Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches. Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence, canon-typical violence Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~6k

It's brief (one sentence each), but please note this chapter contains mentions of suicide and animal slaughter.

The last line of dialogue is lifted directly from A Court of Mist and Fury.

Read on AO3 or you can find the seventeenth chapter below the readmore.

The townhouse was empty when I got back. At the realization I was alone, I reached for my thigh instinctively, where my hunting knife would be if I still carried one. Perhaps I should have still carried one.

My heart leapt to my throat at the sight of a note sitting out for me, even though I recognized Rhys's handwriting now. I forced myself to breathe before my mind spiraled down a path of panic about kidnappers and attackers.

I was safe. No one could winnow in besides Rhys and Mor. No one would touch me here. I was safe.

Even so, my fingers shook as I picked up the note to read. It was still slow going, but at least this time, I recognized every word, though not always on the first try.

Feyre darling,

I'm at the library and will be back this evening.

The contraceptive tea is still where you left it, but if it gives you peace of mind, you should know that the tonic I was taking Under the Mountain won't wear off for another week.

With all my love,

Rhys

I stood there for a long moment and waited for the sensation of the bottom dropping out of my stomach to pass. Rhys could have told me all of this before he left or said it through the bond—but he'd written a note instead, even though he knew reading still wasn't easy for me.

Once my head cleared of panic, I understood. His side of the bond had been quiet, and I'd assumed there just hadn't been anything to say or any strong emotions he was feeling. But his shields were up and reinforced. Either Amarantha had forced him to take the tonic or he'd been doing it without her knowledge, and…that was something he was only telling me because it might give me some measure of reassurance. And even then, he'd only managed it because he'd insulated himself from my reaction first.

Rhys knew I wouldn't be upset and that none of this was his fault—or at least, I hoped he did—but apparently that didn't stop him from feeling ashamed anyway.

Something about the note made my fingers twitch for a pen. There wasn't one, probably because he didn't want a reply, and I assumed the paper wasn't enchanted to send one anyway. But still, I had the urge to flip the paper over and sketch something beautiful, as if that could beat back the ugliness that had necessitated the contraceptive tonic in the first place.

Even though I knew where the pens were, I didn't go find one. I wasn't entirely sure I could make something beautiful anymore.

I tugged a blanket off the sofa and pulled it around my shoulders instead. The townhouse was warm, but I'd never once felt too hot Under the Mountain. The extra layers and soft blanket against the exposed skin of my arms seemed to ground me, to remind me that I was in the Night Court and not there.

I hadn't meant to fall asleep, but I'd spent half the night on the bathroom floor, shaking like a leaf while Rhys held me. Even though it was barely mid-afternoon, once my heart stopped racing, I drifted off and didn't wake until Rhys winnowed in as the sun began to set. And somehow, even though I was worried and groggy, I found myself appreciating the way his blue-black hair shone in the golden hour light.

Cauldron, the mating bond was relentless.

Rhys didn't move from the the spot where he'd winnowed, right in the center of the living room. He was watching me carefully, and as I sat up, I glanced over him and was relieved he looked fine. Even if he wasn't getting closer to me.

After a moment, he said, "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," I said.

I wasn't quite sure what he wanted, so I moved to one side of the sofa and extended my arm in a wordless invitation to share the blanket. To my immense relief, he hid his wings and joined me, snaking an arm around my waist as I tucked my legs under me and curled up against him. We loosed a breath at the same time.

A talon rapped politely against my shields, and I dropped them for him. The beast he usually kept hidden, all wings and feathers and talons and elongated canines, entered the antechamber of my mind. Then it turned around once and lay down, like a dog that had come in from the cold to curl up in front of the hearth. I closed my eyes and let my head fall against his chest.

His breath tickled my ear, making me shiver as he scented me, even with the glamour still in place."You smell like safety," he murmured, "and your mind is a more peaceful place than mine has been lately."

If I hadn't felt the change in both of us just now, I would have pointed out that was a patently ridiculous thing to say when I was a human who could barely manage to sleep through the night, let alone protect myself. But maybe…I was safe to admit the worst to.

And maybe even if I had the heightened senses of a faerie, I couldn't distinguish safety from danger anyway, smell or otherwise. Tamlin had certainly exploited that.

I couldn't hold back a small noise of protest as Rhys pulled away for a moment, nearly taking the entire blanket with him, then relaxed again when I felt his fingers in my hair. My braid had come loose in my sleep. Once he'd slipped the tie off the end, Rhys started gingerly untangling the strands.

Perhaps it was reckless to dive straight into it, but we needed to talk, so I said, "Was this morning—"

"This morning was everything," he said, answering the question before I could finish asking, "but I didn't anticipate how it would feel to go straight from that to an in-depth discussion with the healer regarding how weak my wings were. I needed time. The library helped."

"And now?" I would have turned my head to look at him if that wouldn't have pulled roughly on my hair.

"I'll be fine." It wasn't harsh or unkind, but there was a distinct note of finality there. A bit more softly, he added, "And for you, was—"

"I want more mornings like that." It was all that needed to be said.

He let the lock of my hair fall from his hand, and I turned my head to kiss his cheek before he carded his fingers back through my hair again. This close, I caught sight of a bite mark I'd left, peeking out from under his collar. A mark like that, shaped like my mouth and visible to anyone who got close…it filled me with a sense of feral pride. Rhys looked good wearing it.

The beast that had been resting inside my mind stirred. And preened.

"There's no need to wait until morning if you want more," Rhys said, suddenly all dark promise.

But as much I ached to go down that road, there were questions I wouldn't get to if we did. "What did the healer say?" I asked, a little too quickly, even as I pressed myself closer.

Rhys explained—apparently, the process wouldn't be too different from when his wings had been injured during the War. The best method would be to winnow up high and drop back down slowly to the ground and do the same with repeated takeoffs, all while carrying increasingly heavy weights. Progress might be slow, but steady if he kept at it.

An idea stuck me. "How heavy of a weight would you use?"

"It depends," Rhys said slowly, suspicion creeping into his voice. He pulled away to study my face, and I clamped my hand back down on the blanket to keep it around my shoulders.

"I don't weigh very much. Might be more fun than using a sack of potatoes or whatever you were thinking of instead," I said, smiling.

He didn't smile back. "You could get hurt if I'm not careful."

"Hell will freeze over long before I ever get hurt while you're around."

I raised my brows, daring him to argue—I was right, and we both knew it. He shook his head and sighed. "You don't have to be so eager to test that theory."

"It's a certainty, not a theory," I said, pulling him close again. I took advantage of his wings being hidden, resting my chest against his broad, muscled back and my chin on his shoulder.

The wings, the flying…I knew what it meant to him. And maybe selfishly, I wanted him to hold me tight against him while we were high above the ground, just for the joy of being in the air. Cassian and Azriel might have flown me to the House of Wind, but that would never be the same.

Rhys told me about the sleeping draught next; the healer had said to halve the dose for a human if I took it, too. Apparently it was strong enough that we'd sleep through damn near anything—even each other's nightmares. It took some prodding, but we agreed to take it together or not at all, lest someone be left to face bad dreams and vomiting alone.

Over the next few days, things began to feel…a bit more settled. As much as I hated how fuzzy my head felt on mornings after taking the sleeping draught, I couldn't deny that the rest helped. And though I wasn't quite ready to see them yet, Azriel reported that my family was still safe and cared for. I went to dinner with Mor and managed to ignore the obvious stares in my direction and awed whispers behind my back. Even reading lessons had become less of a slog, full of chitchat about books as Evelyn found ones that would be an appropriate challenge—she'd even collected a few picture-filled volumes on art that I spent an afternoon flipping through.

Sex helped, too. There were far worse things I could have thrown myself into with singleminded focus than making Rhys climax, and I think he needed to hear someone tell him his pleasure mattered and insist he sit back and enjoy it. He responded in kind of course, and somehow his hands and mouth quieted the restlessness that plagued me, enough to stop feeling on the lookout for another threat, at least for a while.

We were coping. And it was strange, but not unpleasant, to find myself slipping into a life I'd ached for but hadn't really known I'd wanted until a few weeks ago.

Illyria, however, was becoming a problem. And so was the Hewn City. I hardly saw much of Cassian; Azriel took over training me so his brother could stay in Windhaven. Mor was more than capable of overseeing the Court of Nightmares herself, but it wasn't enough to completely stave off the question of why the High Lord hadn't shown his face since returning home.

And it all came to a head during the next meeting of the Inner Circle.

The six of us had gathered in a meeting room in the House of Wind. I'd trained with the Illyrians beforehand��Cassian had wanted to see my progress—and though I was still flushed and sweaty from exertion, the leathers and sword strapped to Rhys's back were the only signs he'd been sparring. Perfect and polished as always. If he weren't mine, I would have hated him for it.

But there was work to be done, so I forced myself not to stare. Cassian spoke first, and the picture he painted was bleak—not only rampant disregard of laws Rhys had put into place centuries ago, but rogue war-bands. The groups that had been loyal to Amarantha had splintered, and the situation was delicate and unpredictable.

"I won't have any opportunists in Hybern or the Continent catching us flat-footed," Rhys said, slipping into that clipped tone he only used when he was working. "Take whatever measures are necessary to bring the army back in line. You have my full support, whatever it takes."

To his credit, Cassian didn't hesitate as he said, "Does full support mean I can call you in to make an appearance if needed?" Not a challenge, but it put an unpleasant truth out in the open.

I knew what he meant, and though Azriel's grimace only lasted a moment, that was enough to tell me that he did, too. Rhys's wings were still an issue. If he arrived in Illyria unable to fly properly and word got out, he might only make more of a mess. It didn't matter why his wings were so weak—the Illyrians would see it as shameful regardless.

"It's vital to the security of the Night Court. When I said whatever it takes, I meant it," Rhys said, his voice going colder. Darkness made the faelights flicker for a moment.

The tension that had been simmering between them was back. There was a forced lightness to Mor's voice as she said, "You should make an appearance in the Hewn City first, anyway. They're under control, but it would do some good to flex your muscles before they start getting ideas."

It made sense—I'd heard Mor's updates to Rhys, her concern about Keir becoming too bold without Amarantha making him cower—and releasing the damper on Rhys's power to make a point was simple enough. Or it would be, if that didn't mean sending him straight to the place that Amarantha had modeled her court after. If it were me, I wouldn't be ready yet.

The least I could do was make sure he wouldn't be facing it alone.

"I'll go with you," I said, the words out of my mouth before I'd thought them through. "It might be easier on you with me there."

I hadn't been to the Hewn City, but I knew enough to understand what sort of role I'd have to play there. If it helped Rhys, I'd do it without hesitation. It might even feel good, just to have something to do that made me feel useful. Even though it was underground, I'd manage.

"No," Rhys said, and the word came out as something that wasn't quite an order but sounded uncomfortably close.

He'd never spoken to me like that before. I hated it.

His regret crossed the bond immediately, but that didn't matter. I knew it wasn't the same, not even close, but the harshness in his voice reminded me just a bit of how Tamlin had sounded when I'd overheard him speaking with Lucien, an inkling of how much was really being hidden to manipulate me in Spring. And that was enough to set my temper ablaze.

"What's in the Hewn City that you don't want me to see?" I snapped. Aloud, so everyone could hear.

Rhys's voice was softer, almost pained, when he spoke again. I half-expected darkness to ripple off him, but he kept the leash on his power. "There's nothing in the Hewn City that you didn't already see Under the Mountain."

"Then why not bring me?" I said, just as a horrible thought dawned on me. He'd been so angry that I'd gone Under the Mountain. Before I knew what I was doing, the words were tumbling out. "Is this about keeping me in Velaris, like you did to the rest of the Inner Circle?"

Rhys flinched. And the air in the room seemed to go very, very still.

"For what it's worth, I'm not proud of that," he said, not looking at any of us, "but I can't bring myself to regret it, either. You're alive."

Cassian ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I know it wasn't an easy call to make. You chose the least shit option out of a bunch of shit choices."

"That still doesn't mean we had to like it," Azriel muttered darkly, tucking his wings in tight.

"No, we didn't," Mor agreed, shooting a warning look at Azriel before turning to Rhys, "and it's hard not to be resentful. We were trapped. But…we all know it's not your fault for having to make that decision, and I hope you know that, too."

Rhys closed his eyes, and I watched his shoulders rise and fall as he took in a breath and let it out. He started to say something, but Amren cut him off. "And Velaris is by far the most pleasant of all the places I've been confined. Let's move on," she said briskly.

I didn't want to think about what other places she could possibly have been imprisoned. Or how many there had been. But somehow, Amren of all people had cut through the tension in the room. Mor caught my eye, hiding a smile behind the back of her hand.

"I'd put that on tourism brochures if Velaris had any," Rhys said drily, then turned his attention back to me. "After sending Mor in my stead for so long, I'll get the point across most clearly if I go alone, Feyre. It isn't dangerous. But with the attention the Cursebreaker will draw…you'll be most effective as an ace up our sleeve for now. Is that alright with you?"

I considered that. It seemed like an honest question, not just something intended to mollify me enough to move on. And the word effective clanged in my head like a bell. It took a certain measure of confidence in someone to make a calculation like that. I felt…a little less useless.

"That's fine," I said, giving a gentle tug on the bond to indicate all was well. Rhys answered with a feather-light brush of his fingers against mine under the table.

The rest of the meeting was long, if uneventful. I followed more of it than before—while he'd been catching up on the state of the Night Court, Rhys had answered every single one of my questions about it. There were decisions to be made about resuming trade agreements that had been in place before Amarantha and intelligence to be gathered about the extent of the damage in other courts. Our agenda that day was full.

I wasn't used to sitting still for so long, and it seemed like an eternity had passed by the time Cassian finally flew me down to the street. He took off for Illyria just as Rhys winnowed next to me, shifting out of his leathers and into his usual black jacket and pants.

"Take a walk with me?" he said, offering his arm. I hesitated, not quite sure if he merely did just want to walk with me, or if this was about what had happened earlier. Catching the look on my face, he added,"It's a beautiful day, and it would be a shame to let that go to waste."

That, at least, was the truth. Though it was the middle of summer, the Night Court was too far north to get uncomfortably hot. I suspected that wasn't everything—it might also have been one of those days he needed to feel the breeze on his face, but there was no use in pointing that out.

Instead, I just nodded my agreement and took his arm. My hand felt snug and comfortable in the crook of his elbow, but I was shameless about twisting it to the side so I could feel the hard muscle of his bicep through his shirt. Rhys smirked, curling a wing around me in a gesture I was beginning to suspect looked equally as possessive as my fingers around his arm.

"You know the city best. Lead the way," I said.

We walked in companionable silence towards the Sidra. If we'd wanted to, we probably could have stayed quiet the entire evening without it feeling awkward or uncomfortable. But…I wanted to clear the air anyway. After a little while, I added, "I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier."

"They were valid questions that you had every right to ask," he said evenly. I couldn't quite read his face—Rhys seemed unbothered, but I didn't know how to tell if he was pretending or not.

"I could have phrased them better."

Rhys shrugged. "It's better than if you hadn't said anything at all. You should question me, call me out. And if being comfortable doing that means you're a bit harsh about it on occasion….well, it's not as if I haven't survived worse."

He pulled gently on the bond again, and I took that to mean there truly had been no harm done. It made me feel oddly reassured, as if I'd pushed on something that looked delicate and found it to be much sturdier than I'd thought.

We followed a path along the Sidra, and on a day like this, we were far from the only ones out and about. It seemed silly not to have realized it, considering he'd been High Lord for centuries, but everyone in Velaris seemed to know Rhys. People smiled warmly and nodded at him, a few even greeting him by name and taking his hand to welcome him back. Even after fifty years away, he knew them too, sounding earnest when he asked about how their families were faring.

It still came as a shock that they knew who I was, too.

The first time a faerie, one with horns and horizontal pupils like a goat's, called me Cursebreaker and thanked me for challenging Amarantha, I'd nearly blurted out then and there that anyone with a mate would have done the same thing. Instead, I stammered my way through my reply about how it was good to see Rhys home, which wasn't even a lie.

The people of Velaris were respectful, genuinely warm but never attempting to drag him into a long conversation. For me, the attention was still strange. Rhys must have been handling it since birth, but I'd spent so much of my life alone in the woods, doing my best to blend in with the trees as I hunted.

We were arm in arm, but still in my fighting leathers at his side….I don't think I seemed much like an emissary. And certainly not like a lady, either.

If anything, I looked like Rhys's knight.

But it was…nice, to just walk and be together like this. Velaris was beautiful, rows and rows of pretty, well-kept townhouses in bright colors and the flowers along the river in full bloom for the summer. Peaceful and untouched—and protected with the utmost ruthlessness.

I was so caught up in drinking it in—and in truth, watching Rhys drink it in—that it was a while before I realized we were still walking away from the townhouse. Not that I minded, but I still asked, "Are we going anywhere in particular?"

"Yes. I have something to show you," he said, violet eyes bright.

"What is it?"

"My favorite view in the city."

I'd half-expected him to answer that it was a surprise or with some other teasing, flirting response. But maybe by then he knew it was important to me that my questions didn't go unanswered.

When the sun had nearly set, we stopped at one of the benches that lined the path, facing the river. It didn't seem different from any of the other places we'd passed, save a row of low buildings right on the riverbank across from us. Rhys sat, letting his wings hang over the back of the bench, and I followed suit.

We were in public, so I left a careful few inches of distance between us. I ached to be closer, but I wasn't sure it would be welcome out here. "Can I—"

"I was just going to tell you that you were too far away."

I couldn't press myself to his side fast enough. As Rhys wrapped an arm around my waist, the bond seemed to uncoil in my chest, and I was struck again by that sense of rightness, the feeling that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I doubted I'd ever get used to it—not just the mating bond and all the instincts and urges that accompanied it, but being wanted like this.

But that was too much to talk about on what was proving to be something close to a normal evening. I just said, "Why is it your favorite?"

"You'll see in a few minutes, once night falls properly," he said softly, "but it's not just that. Before Amarantha, nearly everyone in Velaris came to watch the boat races down the Sidra on midsummer. It's been a tradition since my ancestors founded the city, and this is where the races always finished."

"Did you…row?" I wasn't entirely sure if faerie boat races were anything like human ones, though I was fairly certain the line of buildings across from us were boathouses.

"Cauldron, no. Training in Illyria was exhausting enough. This is where I came to drink and cheer on my sister."

I had no idea what to say to the mix of quiet sorrow and warm nostalgia in his voice. Telling him I was sorry seemed insufficient. But…I could practically feel the weight of whatever was on his mind pressing down on us both.

"I'll trade you a thought for a thought," I said after a long moment. "Tell me one thing on your mind, and I'll do the same for you."

I half-expected Rhys to balk, or at least, to be irritated with my prying. Perhaps I'd pushed too hard. But he played along.

"The boathouse on the end was green last time I saw it. But at some point in the last fifty years, it was repainted blue, and now I'm thinking about how strange it is to notice all the ways Velaris is different now. Everything is different now, really."

As I watched the last rays of the setting sun dance on the water, I felt Rhys's gaze slide towards me. I took a moment to consider my words. "I'm thinking about how every summer I used to hunt and hunt while the game was plentiful. If I didn't do enough then, we'd starve during the winter. And now it's summer again, and I feel like I need to find a way to hoard days like this because nothing ever stays easy."

"For what it's worth, I'm not stupid enough to think I can pacify you with pretty lies about how you have nothing to worry about ever again."

I snorted. "Have I mentioned how much I love your pragmatism?" It was true, though. His willingness to make difficult choices, no matter how unpleasant, was one reason I'd choose Rhys to be my partner in everything.

Rhys leaned in close, his nose brushing my temple. "Was that an attempt at pouring honey in my ear, Feyre darling?" he purred.

"With you? I don't need to bother."

He nipped at my earlobe, drawing a surprised laugh from me. "Cruel, beautiful thing."

The first few stars appeared in the sky, and suddenly I understood why this was Rhys's favorite view in city. Lines of lights flickered on outside the boathouses, so many that that the buildings themselves seemed to be fashioned out of stars. The sky and the city were reflected on the surface of the Sidra, and in the distance, the colorful buildings of the Rainbow glowed warm, bright, and inviting.

City of Starlight, indeed.

But the sight of it was more than just beautiful. Something about the stars and the city lights on the water brought a buried memory rushing back. I almost couldn't believe I'd forgotten.

"Rhys," I hissed, sitting up straight. My hand curled tightly around his arm.

"Feyre?" he said, suddenly all concern. "Are you—"

"I've seen this view before. In a dream. This exact view. The boathouse on the end was blue, just like it is now."

I wrenched my gaze away from the boathouses to find Rhys staring at me with naked shock. "You were dreaming of Velaris?"

"It happened the day I'd first killed a rabbit. I was eleven. We'd been starving, and the Mother knows where else we would have gotten dinner from if I hadn't done it. But I— I'd never killed something before, and even though it was an animal, I lost a piece of myself that day. I'd cried and cried, and whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see was the blood from its throat leaking onto my hands. It took a long time to fall asleep that night, but when I finally did…this is the view I saw in my dreams. And I felt at peace with what I'd done."

Rhys's eyes didn't leave my face, but something in his expression shifted. I could see the wheels turning in his head. "If you were eleven," he said slowly, "then I wouldn't have known about you yet. I didn't start having dreams of you until three years ago. And if you saw the boathouse as blue…then we can be certain I didn't send that image of Velaris down the bond, even unwittingly."

"Then where did it come from?"

"You have a connection to the Night Court's magic, and it's clearly protective of you. A dream like that, on what must have been the worst day of your life….perhaps Velaris kept you from breaking, too."

If Rhys hadn't needed to protect this city and the people it, he would have killed himself Under the Mountain, probably long before I was born. He'd never said as much, but I knew. And perhaps that was the real magic of Velaris—not the wards shielding it, but the magic of art and dreams and peace. If that had sustained my mate for decade after lonely, hopeless decade, then…perhaps after one of my darkest days, Velaris had reached for me as I slept.

After all, it was called the Court of Dreams for a reason.

We watched the lights on the water for a long time, together but both lost in thought. But eventually, my inability to sit still reared its head, and we found ourselves walking through the city again, talking quietly about the places we passed.

Rhys was trying to be subtle about it, but I could tell he was attempting to nudge me towards the Rainbow. I understood; he knew what painting meant to me, and he'd had probably looked forward to showing me the artists' quarter. Last time I'd been in a gallery, though, I'd been falling for Tamlin's manipulations, and now that I knew that…I wasn't sure how I'd react next time I entered one. If I panicked or ran like a coward, I didn't want Rhys to see.

I certainly wasn't brave enough to admit that, either. Instead, I murmured something about it being time to start heading back, and when the worry didn't quite leave Rhys's face, I changed the subject. "Why is your house on the other side of the river anyway?"

But it must have been the wrong thing to say because Rhys suddenly went still. "You don't feel at home here," he said, so softly I almost didn't hear it. Even if I hadn't caught the words, the hurt in his voice would have been unmistakable.

That was ridiculous—I'd never felt such a sense of belonging in my life. "Of course I feel at home here."

"You called the townhouse mine just now. Not ours."

"It's where I live, and I'm comfortable there, but…it's still yours. I don't feel unwelcome, but there's no point in pretending you wouldn't be upset if I just started redecorating or painting all over the walls." That first morning after we'd gotten back, he'd said it was mine too, but in truth, I'd assumed that was just an empty platitude.

Rhys took a step towards me, and the intensity of the way he was looking at me was so strong I wasn't sure I was breathing. "Everything that's mine is shared with you. Because you're my"—a tug on the bond to avoid saying the word aloud where there was a chance of being overheard—"and because I love you. Even if that weren't true, the first dream I had of you was your hand painting flowers on a table. It meant more than I can say, and as far as I'm concerned, you should paint any surface in this world you wish."

"I love you, too." The only words I could manage in the face of…everything.

Then before I knew it, Rhys was kissing me in the middle of the sidewalk. For a moment, all the thoughts flew from my mind, and I looped an arm around his waist to press him against me. But before he had a chance to sweep his tongue into my mouth in front of any passersby, I stepped back to catch my breath.

"What you said before, about the townhouse being mine, too…I thought you were just being nice to spare my feelings," I said.

Rhys huffed a bitter laugh. "I've been accused of a great many things over the centuries, but mincing words to be nice isn't one of them."

I'd take it over being lied to day in and day out, I supposed.

He slid his hands into his pockets and tipped his head to the side. The wind ruffled his hair, and for a moment, that instinctive irrational jealousy struck again—I didn't even want the wind touching his hair instead of me. It nearly distracted me enough to miss the too-casual way he was studying me.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You're planning something, aren't you?"

He flashed me another one of those feline smiles—the smirking, put-together High Lord was back. "I was just thinking that if I'm not mistaken, there's a set of half-opened paints in storage. Amren attempted to learn one summer, got bored, and gave up. No one will take an open can as a donation, and she's certainly not going to use them. It would be a shame to let them go to waste."

My mate knew me too well. Even though I could tell what he was doing, it was working—I'd struggle to accept a gift, but I hated waste. Just the thought of an empty canvas made my chest tighten uncomfortably, but if it meant something to Rhys, I could manage a simple, repetitive design of flowers on the edge of a table. I'd done far more dangerous, difficult things for him.

"What's your favorite flower?" I said with a sigh.

"Snowdrops," he said without having to think about it. "There isn't much else about winter in Illyria that's pretty, and the blue ones only grow in the Night Court. They're the same color as your eyes."

Elain had planted snowdrop bulbs one fall, and when I'm asked her about it, she'd said that in the language of flowers, they meant hope. I'd thought it seemed pointless then. Now, I wasn't quite sure.

Rhys said something about being back with the paints, kissed my cheek, and winnowed away. As I stood there for a moment alone, I realized…he'd called my eyes pretty. I willed myself to stop blushing so furiously by the time he got back.

Not long after that, we made it back home, and I sat on kitchen floor, mixing Amren's half-used paint while Rhys watched. He hadn't told me where he'd gone to get them, but he'd come back smelling faintly of pine.

It took a few tries to mix the blue to match the shade in the image Rhys sent down the bond, a blue flower pushing its way through a heavy snowbank, on a mountain that must have been somewhere in Illyria. And perhaps finding the right color would have gone faster if he hadn't been leaning in to kiss me so often.

When I began to form the first petal on the edge of the table, the feeling of a wound healing over was so acute that I nearly dropped the paintbrush.

I was safe in the Night Court. I was painting. A mate I loved was sitting beside me. We were clawing back, slowly but surely, the sense of security that had been ripped away when Rhys had been trapped Under the Mountain and I'd been dragged across the Wall.

I painted a few more petals and managed to finish the first flower before the tears pricking at my eyes made me stop. Rhys kissed them away gently. And that was all I needed to dip the brush back into the paint and keep going.

There was a line of flowers extending along one side of the table when something made Rhys stand up. The movement was too fast for me to follow—one moment, he'd been sitting, then the next he was halfway across the room. I turned to see what it was and found that Mor had just winnowed into the kitchen.

I'd never seen her look so grave.

"It's too late to save anyone now," she said, "but there was an attack on a temple in Cesere. Almost every priestess slain, the trove looted."

#feysand #feyre archeron #we said hello and your eyes look like coming home #this chapter was a doozy but the magic of canned soup got me through it

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boliv-jenta · 9 months

Text

No outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader

Dave York x f!reader

WC:5k

Summary: An unexpected guest crashed the reunion between you and Joel.

Warnings:Unprotected P in V sex. CNC elements. 69. Use of toys. Swearing. Dave Motherf*cking York.

Adult Education

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Masterlist

"I'm so sorry. Tommy's busy. I can't even get him to take over." Joel sounded as disappointed as you felt.

"It's fine we waited ten years, what's another day?" You tried to ease his guilt.

"It's one day too long for me. I promise I'll make it up to you."

"You'd better or I'll be taking a sledge hammer to my walls to get you over here."

The early morning deliveries that Joel left to meet ran into some trouble. Joel was going to have to drive out of state to personally oversee a few things. It was disappointing but maybe it was a blessing in disguise. This whole thing was just insane.

Ten years had passed, you couldn't just pick up where you left off, surely? You weren't a teen in need of a little safe harbour before you went out into the big, wide world anymore. The second you stepped back into Joel's arms, you felt it, safety.

Joel didn't seem to have changed a bit but he must have. Ten whole years of living his life, he could be a completely different man. You were certainly different. At your core, you still had the same morals and outlook on life, you'd always had a strong sense of self. Everything else, your likes, dislikes, ambitions, they'd all changed, grown, evolved.

When your home grew too loud with your thoughts echoing in your mind, you decided to take yourself for dinner. As the waiter sat your indulgent dessert in front of you, Joel sent you a message.

I sent you a present. Let me know if you like it.

Your ex-husband never bought you surprises. It was nice to feel like you were on someone's mind when they weren't there.

Pulling up outside your house, the first thing you noticed was Joel's gift. A long golden box set outside your door. A quick tug of the elaborate bow allowed you to lift the lid and see the beautiful long stemmed roses inside. Carefully balancing them in one arm you took out your phone to snap a quick selfie of your smiling face with your gift.

I love them. Thank you.

The two blue ticks indicated that Joel had read the message. Opening the door you managed to get in just as his reply came through.

They're not from me.

Setting your things down, you got into your normal routine. Keys away. Alarm. Wait, your alarm wasn't on. Damn. It wasn't like you to forget. Kick your shoes off. Hang up your jacket. Picking the flowers and taking them into the kitchen you rooted around for a card. A small cream envelope was at the bottom of the box under the delicate tissue paper lining the box. It slid open easily. Inside was a small golden embellished card. The simple handwritten words said…

Your alarm system is shit.

Every hair on your body stood on end. Your heart was in your mouth. You screamed around it as someone touched your shoulder. A hand came around your mouth to silence you. Instinctively, you struck out. A swift elbow connected with your attackers ribs.

"Easy now. You don't even know my safe word." The voice was all too familiar as he grabbed your arms to hold you in place.

"Dave?" You turned enough to see his perfect profile and the shit eater grin on his face.

"I told you I'd catch you soon."

Petals rained over the kitchen as you grabbed the stem of the roses and proceeded to hit him about the head with them. "You asshole. You scared the hell out of me!"

"Ouch. Those things have thorns!"

"Torns are the least of your worries! I could call the police! You broke into my fucking home!"

"I wanted to surprise you. Joel said…"

"Joel? What did he say?"

"He said you might want to catch up since you were free tonight."

"And breaking and entering is your way of catching up?!"

"I thought…"

"Get out! Get out, Dave!" Anger burned in your veins as you screamed at him. To his credit Dave actually looked ashamed of himself before he left.

It took cleaning all the rose petals up and a long shower for you to calm down enough to look at your phone.

Ten missed calls. One from your mom. Nine from Joel.

Tapping on your conversation, you scrolled through the new texts.

Dave told me what he did. I'm so sorry.

Please answer.

I'm sorry. I forgot Dave is an asshole. I thought he could take you out for dinner, not scare the life out of you.

Please call me.

I'm really sorry.

The thought that Joel hadn't intended to put you in that position made you feel a little better. The other thoughts that scraped at your consciousness, the ones that had enjoyed what Dave had done, didn't. Deciding that Joel had suffered enough, you texted him back.

It's okay. You're not responsible for that asshole. I'll call you tomorrow.

His reply was instant.

Okay, Darlin'. Sleep well.

With the adrenaline rush wearing off, it wasn't long until you were fast asleep.

The moonlight streaming through the windows was joined by a single beam of light. It swept the floor and up onto the walls. When it came your way, it completely obscures the dark figure behind it. The flashlight thudded on the mattress as the dark figure discarded it in favour of grabbing your ankles. In a display of its strength it pulled you down the bed towards it. Only then could you see its face. Dave. Your panties were swiftly pulled to the side as he penetrated you with his thick length. Bracing himself over you his lips ghosted over yours as his steady thrusts built into a frenzied pace. They still hovered over yours as you both moaned in unison as you climaxed together.

The sheets twisted below you as you jumped awake. The room was still streaked with moonlight but there was no Dave. A little pang of disappointment settled low in your stomach. Just below that a twinge of something else flared. Your panties clung to the wet flesh of your folds. It took two rounds with your favourite toy to settle you down to sleep again.

The next time you jumped awake it was to the sound of your doorbell. Checking the camera you were surprised to see Joel at your door.

"I'm so sorry." He greeted you as you let him step inside.

"It's fine, Joel. Really."

"No. It's not. I'll do anything to make it up to you." Dramatically as he could given his stiff knees, he dropped down to beg you.

"Stop!" You laughed, shoving his shoulder. "Although, while you are down there."

He raised an eyebrow before shuffling closer. Lifting one of your knees over his shoulder he pulled your loose sleep shorts out of the way.

"Jesus. You're soaked." Just as two of his fingers traced your folds he stopped. "Is this from last night?"

Feeling like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over you, you removed your leg from his shoulder. "Joel." You sighed.

"Honey, I'm not judging. You and Dave have a past. I just didn't think he'd make a move on you. Not with knowing how I feel about you."

"Do you think Dave and I…? He didn't make any moves."

"Oh. That's good." He sounded relieved and so much younger than his years almost like the uncertain teen you'd once been. "So you two didn't…?"

"No. Why would I when I have you?" You caught how that sounded. "I mean when we're whatever this is…"

"You can have me if you want. I want to be yours. I know it's a weird set up but I just wanted you to know. You can take all the time you need to think about how you feel. I know you will, you're way smarter than me."

"Thank you, Joel. How about we just start with that dinner you own me?"

"Sure." He wrapped his arms loosely around your waist. "Do you still want me to?" He looked down between you.

"The moment has kind of past. How about I get a shower and we can make that dinner a breakfast?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Breakfast was spent catching up on everything and anything. Views on everything on politics to every pop culture fad of the last ten years were exchanged. Thankfully you and Joel agreed on all the major things. It really was like being with an old friend. It felt so natural to be with him. Breakfast turned into a walk in the park. Then a museum and a late lunch. Then back to your place for a movie and cuddling on the sofa. Even when dinner time rolled around neither of you mentioned Joel leaving. Dinner was cooked together. The two of you working seamlessly together. Joel cleaned as you chopped, mixed and cooked.

"What happened to these?" Joel was standing over the open trash can looking at the pieces of flowers.

"Oh, so Dave told you intimate details of us having sex but didn't tell you I beat him with some roses?"

"You what?!" Joel laughed in disbelief. "Good for you!"

"I actually feel a little bad. For the roses, not Dave. He scared the shit out of me."

Joel hugged you from behind and hummed thoughtfully near your ear.

"What?" You half turned to ask him.

"Nothing. Just this morning you were so wet…"

"And…?"

"I don't know, maybe part of you liked it."

Getting defensive you tried to dismiss him. "I masturbated, twice, that's all that was."

"Do you usually masturbate twice at night?"

"Joel." You warned.

"Again, I'm not judging. I always thought it was kind of hot when you two fucked. Dave used to get so worked up that you preferred me. He's the most competitive bastard I know." Joel laughed lightly.

"Is this really a conversation you want to have with the woman you just started dating?"

"I did Google dating etiquette. Oddly enough it didn't cover this particular situation."

Huffing at his comment, you moved from his arms to the spice rack.

"Look. I just think if we have so much stuff unresolved. Then maybe you had stuff with Dave too. I want this, us, to have a real shot. We can't do that being stuck in the past."

Suddenly the mixed herbs in your hands became really interesting as you studied them. Begrudgingly you admitted to yourself that Joel was right. You didn't love Dave but he was your first. He was a huge part of informing your sexual tastes. And if someone held a gun to your head you may even admit to liking him, just a little.

"Did you get wiser in your old age?" You finally returned to Joel's arms.

He mock gasped as held you. "Less of the old!"

"Maybe I do have a teeny tiny amount of unresolved…" feelings doesn't sound right "...stuff with Dave." Adding he herbs you held up a spoon for Joel to taste. It kept his eyes off you for a moment so you could open up. "I may have gotten off on the danger of being with him. Out of the two of you there was always something that scared me, just a little. Now the whole CIA agent thing makes sense. Lying bastard. It doesn't mean I want to do anything with him now."

"Okay." Joel stated simply, yet you could tell there was a lot more behind the simple word. Casually, he tossed the spoon to be washed later. Mirroring how he put this particular conversation aside for later.

The two of you finished up making dinner and settled down to eat.

"So, back then, did Dave tell you everything?" You asked in-between bites of pasta.

"Everything. The hot tub. The time in college. Everything." Joel confessed.

"College?!"

"Who do you think told him where you were?"

Your chin nearly ended up in your food as your jaw dropped. "I take it back. I want to fuck him again but his time I wouldn't let him tell you a damn thing about it."

Joel shrugged. "Still hot."

"Shut up." The two of you grinned at each other like children.

Dinner was done, dishes were washed, dried and put away. Another movie was put on. Joel didn't make it through this one. With half an hour left he was fast asleep against your chest. Even though he was asleep you carried on massaging his scalp. His soft curls tumbled soothingly through your fingers. The weight and warmth of him against you, finally having him in your arms like you had ached to when he told you he wanted to be wanted, had you in a state of bliss. When you phone chimed you were happy to ignore it until you remembered you hadn't called your mom back.

A message was there, from a number you didn't recognise.

I'm sorry for last night. I thought you'd like it. I guess I forgot you're not the woman I knew anymore.

Thank you for the apology. You weren't entirely wrong. If you'd have done that back then or maybe didn't try it out of the blue after 10 years, I may have liked it.

I'll keep that in mind. These texts won't disappear. You can save this number if you want.

I will, under 'Asshole.'

You're saved under 'Whore' with that picture of your cum covered tits as your icon.

Asshole.

You imagined Dave's amused smile matching the one that spread on your face. The slight rumble of your chest as you chuckled woke Joel. "Sorry, Sweetheart. Long day. Did the movie end? Do you want me to leave?" He muttered this all sleepily against the swell of your breasts.

"I'm not going to make you drive in this state. My guest room is made up….or you can share my bed?"

Joel padded up the stairs as you guided him. It was strange to be the one looking after him for a change. After giving him a spare toothbrush, you returned with some sweats that you stole from your ex. "Here. Let's get you to bed."

Joel was asleep on his back when you returned from getting yourself ready. The blanket was only pulled up to his waist. His chest was bare allowing you to admire him. His middle was a little softer than you remembered. His arms were still roped with well earned muscle. The freckles that you used to try and map littered his golden skin. Seeing him in your bed just felt so right. Sliding in next to him you rested your head on his broad chest. His heartbeat thumped steadily in your ear. Just like the summer ten years before, you decided you wanted Joel and you were going to have him, consequences be damned.

One year later….

Sometimes you hated Tommy. Even if he was a ray of human sunshine most days and made sure to tell Joel how lucky he was to have you at every opportunity. He was still the one that convinced Joel to take risks and grow his business. A business that was now thriving. Which meant Joel had to be whisked away from you from time to time. Most of the time you understood. Today, you weren't in the most understanding of moods. Work had been a nightmare, all you wanted to do was come home. Now that you had you were reminded that your boyfriend was away on your anniversary.

It had been a whole year since Joel first slept in your bed. Over that year there had been more nights that he'd slept there than anywhere else. He just sort of stayed. He'd been renting a place not too far from you while he worked there. When his lease was up, he moved what he had with him to your place. There was no fuss, just two people seamlessly blending their lives together. Like you had always been that way. Maybe you should have.

The bad mood you were in seemed an ideal time to go over your regrets. If only you had stayed a year. Maybe you could have had a whole decade with Joel? Your brain huffed at you. Maybe it could have all gone to shit because you weren't grown yet, who knows?!

The foul mood worsened when you couldn't get through to your favourite take out place on the phone.

"Fuck it." It was only four blocks away. The walk might do you good.

With your order in your hand you checked the time on your cell. A message had come through without you hearing it. It was from Joel.

I sent you a present. Let me know if you like it.

The walk home seemed much shorter than the walk there. Your feet carried you like the wind. The alarm beeped steadily when you got home before you turned it off. Disappointment set in as you typed in Joel's birthday. Placing the takeout on the counter you crossed to the fridge to get a drink. Grabbing a soda, something caught your eye as it fell from the door when it swung open. It was a piece of paper with a handwritten note.

Your alarm is still shit.

The soda nearly fell from your hand as you were shoved into the counter. A body pressed into yours pinning you in place.

"Don't go trying to take a swing at me again." Dave breathed against the shell of your ear before biting down on the lobe.

Your hands came down to brace yourself on the counter as he pulled up the skirt of your dress. He pushed the material over your hips exposing your ass to him. He grabbed a handful of it. The same hand then caught the soda can that fell from your grasp, the other one was already too busy peeling off the very expensive and very tiny underwear you had on.

"Did you wear these for me?" He grunted with the effort of tugging them down your legs.

"You're not worth the effort." You snarled at him.

A sharp sting spread across your scalp as Dave tugged your hair, bringing you tight to him. Blunt teeth found your shoulder and bit down. The pain coursed through you melding into pleasure at some point. Every nerve in your body sang. Every touch felt heightened. Even your own clothes on your skin were too much.

"Over a decade and you're still a brat. Someone should fuck that out of you." With his hips still pinning you and one hand pulling on your hair, Dave was able to keep you in place and use his free hand to take off his belt. The hand in your hair travelled to your mouth to pry it open. His thumb pushed roughly past your lips for leverage. As soon as there was enough space, he shoved his belt in there.

"That should keep you quiet. Don't want the neighbours telling your boyfriend another man was making you scream his name." With that he brought his large palm down on the meat of your ass. A muffled shout left your mouth. "Come on, say it." Another smack. This one was harder and added to the sting already there. All you let out was a defiant groan. Another hit. "Say it." Another slap echoed. "Fucking scream it, bitch."

Another hard hit of his hand, coupled with his words earn him it. "Dave!" Muffled but unmistakable.

"I knew you had it in you, screaming another man's name. You little cheating whore." As he spoke you chanced a look at him. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes were dark, even with the all back outfit, you could see the bulge of his cock straining to be freed. He looked feral and so goddamn good. "Don't move. I brought you a gift. Close your eyes." He almost sang the last bit.

Obeying him, you stood still. When he returned he kicked your legs apart. A dark chuckle left him when he saw the jewel nestled between your cheeks. "Poor Joel. It seems like you had quite the night planned for him. Oh well, his loss…"

The blunt tip of something pressed at your entrance. It slipped in easily with the slick gathered there. "Good girl. Take it so well."

The toy was fully seated inside you, held in place by your thighs, when Dave returned to pining you to the counter, his hips dropped his time so his hard cock pressed into the jewelled plug in your ass. He grinded his hips into you. "I can't wait to fill you with this cock. We've got work to do first though. Open your eyes." In his hand in front of you he held a small oval remote control. With one tap the toy inside you jerked to life. It started thrusting against your G-spot hard and fast. Once you were over the initial intrusion it made you come in no time. Your whole body curled in on the toy and the belt dropped from your mouth as you gasped. Dave tapped the remote to halt the tiny but powerful machine. "All that for a piece of plastic? All Joel's bragging, maybe you just come too easily. Is that it? You're such a little slut that you're permanently on the edge. It doesn't take much to push you over. Let's see if you have another one in you. The toy started up again this time Dave added a small vibrator, that he pulled from his pocket, to your clit. Moments later when your legs tensed, your toes curled and your vision blurred. Shakily you wiped the corner of your mouth as you whimpered.

Dave only laughed. "See? Such a fucking horny slut. How many can you give me? Hmmm?" He ragged your hair again. Your head moved easily as all your muscles were completely softened by your release.

Reaching between your legs he shoved the toy deeper. A whimper tore from your throat. "No more."

"What was that?"

"I said no." You tried your best to stare him down.

"So you're going to let me play with this pussy. Get me all worked up will all those pretty sounds, your moans, the wet sound of your pussy and say 'no'." He laughed before dragging you up on shaking legs. "You don't get to say no to me."

Throwing you face first onto the kitchen island he pressed your chest into it and started to grab your hands.

"No!" You managed to pull them back for a second until he shoved the toy deeper again. As you cried out he grabbed your hands and tied them with his belt.

"Stay, fucking, still." The toy and the plug hit the floor you winced as each one was removed from your still clenched muscles.

"Fuck. Look at how wet you got that thing. And you're going to try and deny me getting my cock that wet? Fucking tease. Do you want me?"

"No."

"Are you sure?" Two thick fingers pressed ever so slightly inside you. "Because it seems like you do." His thumb brushed circles over your pink hole.

"No. I don't." Your voice was more steady now.

"Well what kind of a man would I be if I fucked you now?" He chuckled.

The air was thick and silent for a moment. Not a move was made until Dave rushed you. His hands pushed you down onto the counter, pinning you in place as he almost split you in two with his thick, solid cock. The two of you resembled wolves howling at the moon as he did so. The sounds of ecstasy fell from your lips as you practically drooled on the work top. Each thrust of his cock was magnified by how sensitive you were.

"You're not supposed to be enjoying this." He reminded you with another bite to your shoulder.

"The word you used was 'defiant'. I'm being defiant of this little scenario right now." You panted as he still steadily thrusted.

"What if I told you that I gave that shit security system a little upgrade?" He grunted as he pushed deeper.

"What?"

"I installed a couple of cameras. There's one in your fake ficus over there."

Looking over to where he was talking about you could see the little round lens peeking over the rim of the pot. "You CIA motherfu…" You began to jerk away from him.

Strong arms pinned you down. "Ex CIA." He slammed into you harder. "Feel like telling me 'no' now?"

"Fuck you!" You spat.

"Oh, yes." If possible Dave grew even harder inside of you. It made you even wetter, something you didn't think was possible.

"Is that what you like? Acting like the bad man, David?" His hips faulted for a second. A grin spread on your lips. "You are such a bad man. You took a barely eighteen year old girl and set up her sexual tastes for life. Do you know how many times I beg Joel to fuck my throat or degrade me? How many times he has to fuck me in my ass and fill me with his cum so I feel dirty? Do you know how many men I've let fuck me roughly? How many women? All chasing the high that you gave me when you first forced all of your cock inside me. Pinning me on it until I was hopelessly lost in pleasure. You've always been a bad man to me, Dave. And a fucking hot one." Dave's ego swelled with his cock as it pulsed wave after wave of cum inside you. He chanted your name as he did so.

Once he was spent, he collapsed over you. "Fuck. Me."

A giggle bubbled out of you; it was cut off with a hiss when he pulled out. "Wait here."

It was easy to follow that instruction. You doubted your legs could carry you anywhere else. You were vaguely aware of the microwave humming and beeping. When Dave returned he'd pulled a chair from the kitchen table with him.

"Here." Gripping your waist he pulled you up to untie your hands. He then guided you down into lap. The smell of lavender caught your nose. A heat pack was set on his thigh as he pulled your ass onto it. "We'll get you cleaned up in a minute. I haven't finished with you yet. How do I always neglect these pretty tits?" His hand began to pull down your dress.

"Dave." One of your hands stilled his, suddenly shy. His eyebrows furrowed. "It's been ten years, they might not be how you remembered."

Gently he carried on tugging until you were bare for him. "No. They're fucking prettier."

His tongue licked a strip from under your boob right up and over your nipple. He repeated the motion on the other side before blowing across them gently watching you shiver. In turn he sucked on each one until you shuddered with over sensitivity. He then kissed around them covering every inch as he did so he slipped his hand between your legs. His fingers rubbed gentle, slow circles on your clit.

Dave had never treated you with such care. The tenderness of it alone lit something in you that fuelled a soft climax. Dave kissed you for the first time that night as you moaned. He pulled away to rest his forehead on yours. "Good girl."

It was odd how you suddenly felt bare and vulnerable in front of Dave, given everything he'd done to you. You were driven to fill the silence with a question. "When did you become the king of aftercare? What made you so soft?" You teased.

"Since I became a grandpa I guess. Now I always offer a lady a tissue if I come inside."

"Ew." You snort-laughed at him. "How is Oliver?"

"He's great. Growing like a weed. The last time I saw him he was just learning to sit up."

"That's great, Dave. I'm happy for you. Like I said, you're a terrible human being but a great dad, and now grandpa."

Your phone chimed on the counter next to your long forgotten take out.

Joel

Are you and grandpa quite finished?

You

Are you watching us?

Joel

Dave has a lot of faults but I can't knock his security upgrades.

You

Did you like what you saw?

A picture came through in reply. It was of Joel's spent cock cover in his cum. You licked your lips subconsciously.

You

I guess you did.

Joel

I know Dave did. My dirty girl has the best little cunt. Make sure he licks it out before he leaves. Show him what I get to have any time I want.

Dave's phone chimed. He read the message before saluting the camera with a sarcastic "Yes, Sir." A grin spread over his face "Let's get you cleaned up." You pulled you behind him. "There's no cameras upstairs." He tossed over his shoulder.

"What did your message say?"

"He told me to eat your pussy." He yawned.

"I'm glad to know you find the prospect of eating my pussy so exciting."

"I'm fifty-three years old. You're lucky that blowing my load that hard did lay me out for the night."

"Fair enough. How about I ride your face instead?"

For his moaning about his age Dave still got it up again after a few minutes of you dragging your pussy over his lips, tongue and perfectly curved nose. Admittedly he didn't last long when you showed you how far your blow job technique had come and once he emptied himself down your throat he was out like a light.

"Good night, Asshole." You pressed a kiss to his forehead before leaving him in the guestroom. Dave hadn't quite gotten you there before he came groaning against your folds. It only took a few pumps of your own fingers to finish you off. Taking out your phone you sent Joel a couple of pictures of the resulting mess clinging to your fingers and thighs. After a well needed shower you returned to find another photo from Joel. His softening cock covered in even more cum with the caption 'Happy Anniversary, Darlin'.'

Series tag: @popcornforone @myrealmofchaos @casa-boiardi

Dave York tag: @movievillainess721

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #no outbreak!joel miller #dave york au #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york x you

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dsireland86 · 4 months

Text

There is Beauty in the Pain

Chapter 4 Pt. 3

***Warnings: sexual content and language

Summary: Noah and Sophie find each other in the most unprecedented circumstances. Whether it's the Universe, fate, destiny, or pure luck, they can't deny that their souls were simply meant to be

***if you want to be added to the tag list, let me know :)***

@lma1986 @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @missduffsblog @bngurngheart @thatamazingvampirestory

--Link to Chapter 5 Pt. 1 at the bottom--

Sophie:

The missed call icon appeared at the top of my phone. It stood out like a dark cloud on the sunniest day of the year, bringing with it the sudden feeling of falling ten thousand feet into nothing. It wasn't the missed call that sent me over the edge, it was who the number belonged to; a number that hadn't called my phone in over a year.

Moments ago, I was having a semi-normal conversation with the men around me. Somehow, within forty-eight hours, they managed to get wrapped up in my drama, refusing to back out and leave me to my mess, and I fucking hated it for them. They had no idea what they were getting themselves into.

Noah was seated next to me, hand locked tightly around mine and his body so close that I couldn't move without pushing him away, and I didn't want to do that. I was comfortable right where I was, nestled in the corner of his arm.

Noah:

To say I wasn't nervous would be an outright lie. The truth was I was more anxious about right then with her beautiful self so close to me feeling like we melted together somehow, than I had ever been in my life. Even with all the performing and interviews I'd done, they felt like a walk in the park compared to how I was feeling right now. Sophie's hand in mine, so small and soft, felt natural. It felt like it had always been a part of me.

But the moment that Jolly handed her her phone and she unlocked it, I knew immediately something was wrong. I could tell by the way her body stiffened under my grip, going rigid and beginning to quiver. I looked down at her as she just stared at her phone, completely zoned out, and tried my best to read what was happening. And then the tear fell from her eye, sliding down her cheek and dripping onto her phone.

"Sophie, what is it?"

My eyes switched from her face to her phone. Folio came over, giving me that same apprehensive look he gave me the other night at the bar that told me whatever it was it wasn't good.

"Sophie, answer me. What's wrong?"

Nicholas and Jolly joined in, gathering around us, ready to help if needed and I was so glad they did.

Sophie dropped the phone and started tugging at her shirt, her hand pressed firmly against her chest, moving back and forth as if an invisible force was trying to choke her. Gasping for air as all awareness seemed to slip from her eyes, she started shaking as each breath she took became harder and harder. I knew what was happening to her. I was there when she had her very first one since arriving here. The signs of her panic attack brought on by the anxiety life had thrown her into were very clear now and it felt like my own heart was being ripped out of my chest having to watch her go through the torture of her demons.

I did the only thing I knew I could do and that was to hold her the way I did the last time. So, I slid one arm around her waist, and the under her arm, placing my hand firmly but gently on her chest, feeling it rise and lower faster than normal. She threw her hands over mine, gripping my arms, as her entire body trembled, her silent but strong sobs penetrating my heart like prickers.

"It's okay Baby, I got you; just breathe. Breathe through it with me Sophie." I coaxed her in a way I'd never been, remembering all the times in the past when I was forced to live out my panic attacks by myself, and I made a promise to myself right then that Sophie would never again have to.

After squatting down to be at eye level with Sophie, Folio brushed the loose strands of hair out of her face, tucking them behind her ear and smiling when he heard her breathing reach a slower level. He looked up at me and nodded, and I pulled Sophie closer to me, tightening my arms around her afraid she might pull away from me. But she didn't. As her breathing slowed and the attack began to subside, Sophie became limp, mildly exhausted from the stress her body had just been put through.

"There you go Baby, that's it nice and slow," I coaxed her, hearing the deep breaths in and out that she was taking.

"You got it Sophie, you're doing great."

After some time had passed, Sophie and I finally separated. She sat up and I sat back, scooting away a bit to give her a little room. But when she reached over and grabbed my hand without looking at me, I froze, not knowing what to do.

"Stay; please," she whispered, turning her head to look at me.

I nodded, giving in to her pleading eyes and taking in the look of exhaustion and sadness gracing her bruised, but pretty face.

"Sophie, what happened that triggered you? What's on your phone?" I asked, carefully trying not to upset her again.

She looked down at her phone on the floor and then up at Folio, signaling to him with just her eyes alone. He seemed to be following, reaching down and picking it up and I watched the expression on his face instantly change from concern to anger, his brow furrowed and his jaw clenched so tight his jawline was rigid. He looked pissed.

"What?"

"You might want to look at this," he hissed, handing me the phone.

I took it without breaking eye contact.

"What the fuck," I cursed, seeing the twenty-five missed calls. Pulling the top bar down, I saw the name associated with the number and understood what started Sophie's panic attack.

"That face is never good," Jolly noticed, peering over my shoulder. "What's up?"

"He tried calling her twenty-five times."

"Jeeze, didn't he get the hint the first ten when she didn't answer? He's a freaking idiot," Nicholas scoffed.

"I guess not. Dude doesn't appear to be the brightest crayon in the box."

Jolly said mockingly, walking off to the kitchen, almost running into Folio. "Eyes up Folio."

"Yeah, sorry brother," Nick apologized, patting Jolly on the shoulder.

Sophie was a silent mess. She had closed her eyes and laid her head on her arms that were curled up on her knees, acting as a makeshift pillow.

Even though she seemed to be okay, I knew better than to believe it.

I wanted to pull her into me again and hold her; make all of the crazy shit go away, but I knew I couldn't do that. She didn't know me other than what she'd probably read on the internet or had seen in interviews and I didn't know one thing about her other than the little bit that Matt had told us back on the bus. There was such a thing as personal space. I loved mine and assumed Sophie loved hers.

What I did know though was that Sophie was hurting. She was in incomprehensible pain that none of us would ever be able to understand.

Her shoulders shook from the crying and the quiet sniffs, gave away the hurt she was trying so hard to bury.

"Hey, Sophie, it's okay Baby, come here."

I beckoned her with open arms, tossing her phone on the sofa, and giving in to my desire of wanting to feel her body against mine.

She fell into me, throwing her arms around my neck and I wrapped my arms around her small body, feeling her tears fall on my skin. A deep agony, one that I could never remember feeling, came over me, dragging me down into its gloom and making me feel hopeless. I couldn't fix what was broken and because I was starting to feel way more for Sophie and her situation than I was used to feeling, I could feel my panic rising. But no matter how hard I tried to convince myself I needed to step away, I was pulled in even closer than before.

"Here, give her this," Folio ordered, handing me part of a chocolate bar.

"What's this for?"

"I read that eating chocolate after a panic attack helps stimulate the blood sugar."

I stared at Folio, utterly confused.

"Shit, it'll help her feel better, Noah. It'll help the nervous system. Just give it to her," Folio explained, with a slight eye roll."

"Oh, like when Harry was on the train to Hogwarts and had the encounter with the dementors. Lupin gave him chocolate."

Jolly was looking down at me with a huge grin on his face, and I had to laugh, despite the current mood, not to mention the puzzled look on Folio's face at the reference.

"Jolly, if I didn't know how much of a nerd you were before, I do know, You're such a nerd," I, joked shaking my head.

Sophie turned her face a little, her cheek was pressed at the top of my chest right below my neck so that I was able to comfortably rest my chin on the top of her head.

"Did Jolly just compare my panic attack to a dementor attack from Harry Potter?" she murmured.

I gave Jolly a grateful smile.

"Do you like Harry Potter, Sophie? he asked her, a little excitement in his voice at the idea of knowing someone else was interested in one of his favorite obsessions.

"Yeah, just a little. I have a Sirus Black quote tattoo on my bicep and the Deathly Hallows symbol on my ankle."

"Really, can I see them?"

Jolly sat down next to me and Sophie, waiting for her to respond. I knew what he was doing, trying to maneuver her thoughts onto a different topic at the moment, allowing her mind to recover from the sudden mental ambush. It was a Jolly move; one that I'd grown to love him for over the years.

Sophie removed her arms from around my neck and lifted the right sleeve of her shirt showing off the beautiful cursive words of her favorite Harry Potter character. I didn't know anything about it except for what Jolly would tell me or what I'd seen in the movies which wasn't a whole lot.

"I love it," Jolly mused, studying the ink that permanently covered Sophie's skin.

"And the Deathly Hallows symbol?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

She raised her bottom left pant leg and right next to her ankle bone was the symbol that fascinated the wizarding world, or so Jolly said.

"Wow! That's sick Sophie. I didn't take you as a girl who likes tattoos. You seem like a goody-good."

"Shit Jolly that's a messed up thing to say," Nicholas exclaimed, slapping Jolly on the shoulder.

"Ow! I didn't mean it in a mean way, I just meant," Jolly paused and thought.

"Well crap, I guess I did mean it that way. I'm sorry Sophie."

Jolly rubbed his shoulder, scowling at Nick.

A wide smile spread over Sophie's face, turning up her pretty pink lips into that damn weapon she used against me.

I licked my own, trying to tame the urge that had slowly grown in the pit of my stomach since the night of the show when I first laid eyes on her. Managing the way my body reacted to just the sight of her was becoming a difficult thing to control. My heart was still racing from her arms around and the second I heard her laugh I just about lost all control. I concluded that Sophie was born to laugh and I made a mental note to make it happen as much as possible while she stayed with us.

Sophie:

The panic attack came faster than I anticipated. Perry's number showing up on my phone was the last thing I expected, but it was very much a thing for him to do. His narcissistic habits were what always kept me coming back to him; it was the chain and I was the ball.

Being in the presence of others when the attack happened wasn't something I was used to. Normally I would suffer through them alone, bearing the depression that followed it alone. But this time I didn't have to. The men surrounding me, loving and caring for me, did it out of kindness; because they wanted to and couldn't wrap my head around it. I wasn't anything to them. Was I?

I was falling very quickly because of the way Noah's arms would enclose themselves around me, covering me like a shield and protecting me, and didn't want to think about having to go back to my life outside of this house without feeling them again. Noah was becoming something more than just a guy to me. He was becoming my safety, and it was too dangerous. I had to stop it before he became too involved and I became too dependent.

Noah:

Sophie's phone vibrated again. She went to reach for it, but thankfully Folio got to it first.

"Just in case, let me look first," he said convincingly.

Sophie nodded and retracted her arm, leaning over and dropping her head into her hands.

"Holy fuck," Folio murmured, exasperated by what he was looking at.

"Nick, what is it?"

He looked up at me with complete disgust on his face. Then he looked over at Sophie, watching her move her hands from her face to the back of her head while still keeping it buried low.

"Take a look at this," he demanded, handing me the phone.

Perry sent her two texts, both with photos attached.

The first one was of him and some redhead woman, completely naked, with him standing behind her, holding her arms behind her back with one hand while the other was wrapped tightly around her neck. The woman looked to be in serious discomfort.

The second photo hit me hard and I suddenly wanted to smash the fucking phone into a million pieces.

It was Sophie, standing the same way as the redhead, with Perry behind her, holding her the same way. The only difference was she had a black eye and a very bruised cheek.

Turning my eyes away from no longer wanting to see the beautiful being who was sitting quietly next to me exposed and beaten, I brought my hand to my mouth rubbing my lips and then the rest of my mouth, cringing at the thought of what Sophie had to endure moments before the photo was taken. I felt disgusting after looking at her without her clothes on and not having her permission.

"Shit." Sophie's curse startled me and I almost dropped the phone.

"He's done this to you before?"

She nodded

The idea that he had made me sick to my stomach.

"Fuck, Sophie I'm sorry darlin." Folio's apology sounded like how I felt; appalled

He sat down next to her and threw his arm around her shoulder, bringing her a little closer to him. The look he gave me held that same anger I saw days ago at the bar.

"I try not to think about all the hell I've been through. This sick, twisted game Perry plays has been a continuous loop for the last few years but stopped when he went to Germany. I thought it was over between us; I thought I was finally free. But then the other night happened, throwing me back into the sickening hell I worked so hard to pull myself out of."

Sophie's tears dripped from her chin onto her arms that she held in her lap.

"The truth is guys, I'm terrified at just the thought of seeing Perry again. I can't hide from him forever and eventually, I'll have to face him. It's just that when I do, I'm scared I won't live through it."

Sophie's face fell in her hands and she began to weep.

I stood up and ran my hands through my hair, while beginning to pace, trying to think of what to do about anything that was happening, but came up with nothing.

"Noah, please stop pacing." Sophie was staring up at me, her bruised but beautiful face filled with tension.

I stopped and thought for a moment before taking a knee and meeting her at eye level. Cupping her face in my hands, I gently dried her eyes with my thumbs, noticing the way she winced and grimaced from the pain from the bruises, and watched a brief smile grace her lips. My eyes blinked a couple of times as I stared into hers, waiting for the right words to come to me.

"I don't have any answers for you," I began, shaking my head as hair fell over my eyes.

Sophie reached out and brushed it aside, giving me chills at the soft touch of her fingertips brushing my cheek, our eyes still locked together like magnets.

"And I'm not going to lie to you and tell you everything's going to be okay because I don't know if it will be. You have a lot to deal with; you have a lot of choices to make."

Sophie's head dropped, but I wasn't going to let her linger in her thoughts alone. I lifted her head with my finger under her chin, raising her face to meet mine once again, and then ran my hand softly down the side of her face. She leaned into my hand and clasped my wrist between her two small hands, resting in the moment with her eyes closed.

"You won't be alone. Whatever happens, whatever you're going to have to face, I'll be, we all will be here to help you face it."

"But why, Noah? Why would you do that for me? You don't even know me."

Sophie opened her eyes and they carried a mix of emotions.

I shrugged, letting my hand that was cupping her face fall into her lap with hers still locked tightly with mine, and took a long, deep breath.

"I have no freaking idea," I answered, releasing a forced chuckle.

"But we'll figure it out; together."

She smiled, telling me she believed me.

If I was going to be entirely honest with myself, I was so fucking screwed.

So I took a breath, pushed the truth aside, grabbed the lie I wanted to believe by the throat, and pulled it deep down into me until I could feel its conviction.

CHAPTER 5 PT.1

#noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens #bad omens band #noah sebastian #nick folio #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #bad omens cult #fanfic

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remwrites · 1 year

Note

i'd love to see any hotguy/cuteguy scarian stuff from you!! doesn't have to be like a superhero au or whatever just whatever strikes your fancy :]

i had VERY different thoughts for this so i'm giving you these two pieces

[]

"That was too close." Grian said, heart in his throat. They'd taken more hits than Grian was really comfortable with, but Hot Guy had kept his cool the whole time.

"We handled it." Hot Guy gave a reassuring smile, just a little strained. "You holding up okay?"

"I'm good." Grian dismissed. He wasn't the one who'd been targeted by their attacker, Hot Guy taking most of the attention.

"No, you're great." Hot Guy said, chuckling.

Grian elbowed him in the side, rolling his eyes. But Hot Guy winced at the action, curling around his ribs.

"What?" Grian said, stepping back to get a better look at his partner. It was fairly dark, but he could make out the blood down his side. "God, why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought maybe it was just your good looks making me dizzy." Hot Guy said, words beginning to slur, and he reached out a hand blindly.

Grian took it, gripping tight and helping to lower him to the ground. "You're such a damn idiot. Don't you dare go unconscious. What happened?"

"Stabbed? Maybe? There was a knife involved but I don't know where it went." Hot Guy mumbled.

"Eyes open." Grian tapped him hard in the middle of his forehead, holding him up and trying to think of his options.

Hot Guy opened his eyes, barely there, and gave an ashen smile, "Hey there handsome."

"Is there someone I can call for help?" Grian said, not sure what else he could possibly do with the much taller man bleeding out in his lap.

"Oh. Yeah. My brother is listening. He'll send someone."

"Help is coming?" Grian prompted.

"Mhm." Hot Guy replied.

Grian surveyed his options and stripped off a layer of his jacket to press against the wound. His hands were shaking. Hot Guy squeezed his eyes shut hard and gave a ragged breath.

"Stay awake." Grian said.

"Who gives the orders here?" Hot Guy mumbled. "I'm going to pass out."

"No, don't--" Grian said, but it was too late, the colour leaving Scar's face and head lolling to the side. Grian cursed colourfully and prayed whoever he summoned would be quick.

[]

Scar really couldn't be blamed, his partner was named Cute Guy for a reason, and Scar was incredibly weak to cute.

Weak, malleable, currently putty in his pink-clad hands, as Cute Guy tugged on his hair while kissing the life out of him. Scar made an embarrassing noise in his mouth, winding the arms tighter around his partner's small waist and deepening the kiss. Mind utterly consumed with the smile on Cute Guy's lips as he fused them closer together.

Cute Guy hummed with appreciation, on his tip toes and bracketing Scar's thigh with both of his own. The brick wall against Scar's back was almost not enough to keep his watery knees up. Cute Guy nibbled on his bottom lip and he went very light headed.

His earpiece crackled. "Your glasses are still on, idiot."

Scar's mind halted, blood going cold.

"I literally went and got a coffee and you're still making out?" Cub lamented, from where he'd be watching from the lab via the live feed of his special tech glasses.

"What's up?" Cute Guy asked, tipping his head back just enough to disengage their eager lips.

"You don't wanna know." Scar said, carefully reaching between them to take his glasses off. "I gotta take these off."

"Oh, are we being watched?" Cute Guy gave an amused smile.

Cub was the worst. "Tell Cute Guy I said hi."

"I'm not telling him you said hi." Scar replied.

"Hello! Your brother is a great kisser." Cute Guy said, leaning closer to the glasses to relay that information.

"I didn't want to know that." Cub complained in his ear.

Scar muffled a laugh and shoved the glasses in his pocket. Then he reached up to hold Cute Guy's stupidly cute face and kiss him again.

#scarian #rem askbox #fic stuff

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hunterssm00n · 5 months

Text

Deal

What first starts out as a cruel prank turns into a night of unmatched passion. | Waylon Jones/OC |

part 1 of 3

also on ao3: here

*cw include smut, explicit situations, size kink, teratophilia, fear play, dirty talk, anxiety attack, extremely mild dubcon (for point one second but tagging just in case), graphic description* MDNI - 18+

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

/ / Hunger / /

The door slammed shut behind me with finality as I stumbled into the room, as I'd been thrown through the opening by the guards. My palms scraped on the damp stone floor, but I ignored it as I immediately tried to scramble back up to try and escape. The door was heavy with reinforced steel, and I could just barely hear the cackling of the guards over the heavy clank of it being locked from the other side. Was this really happening? In my workplace, no less?!

I'd thought working for Arkham would be different. I'd thought it was a fresh start - and for the most part, it was. But this... This had been a long time coming. Many of the workers here were good people, who wanted to actually help the asylum's patients like we were supposed to be doing. Not these people. Gotham had scum everywhere, and they even found their way into service jobs: hospitals, police, even Arkham. And now they had locked me in here; the lowest level of the architecture, the old sewer tunnels... with him.

I swallowed hard, my hands trembling on my side of the door, and I could feel the vibrations from the thugs on the other side pounding on the steel. I could hear them too, over the similar pounding of my heart in my head.

"Now just remember, love, scream if you need us!"

"Don't worry, a few have come out of there alive! Granted, heh, not all in one piece..."

"I wonder if he'll fuck you before he eats you - or maybe after!"

I started backing away from the door, enough so that their voices were mostly muffled, but before I went too far I turned to face the new surroundings I'd been thrown into.

There wasn't much to see, thanks to the dim lighting, but from what I could tell it was basically a tomb with brick archways that looked like they would crumble at any moment, and long, endless tunnels full of murky water. It was so eerily quiet, save for the sounds of running water both close and distant, as well as drips collecting into the pools all throughout the cavernous underground of the old sewers - the place I was now locked in.

My breathing was rapidly increasing, making my mind go hazy, the edges of my vision fuzzy, and I knew I needed to stop and gain control before I passed out. Leaning against the rough brick wall for support, I slowly slid down, until my bottom hit the damp, slippery stone floor under my feet. Normally I would never sit on such a slimy surface, but right now my head was spinning so much I debated even laying down. I felt that cool, coppery sensation in my throat, and I wondered if I was going to vomit. I gulped in huge breaths of air, thinking about the moment a few days ago that had landed me in this very situation.

I worked in an office at Arkham Asylum as a clerk, but the layout for the campus was... interesting, to say the least. Right down the hall from the clerical office was the psychiatry area, where patient sessions were happening at all hours of the day. I'd been walking down the hallway to the fax machine, turned the corner - and there he was: Waylon Jones, aka, Killer Croc; shackled and either going in for a mandated therapy session or coming out of one. Both he and the guards surrounding him appeared to be in a heated argument - one that I surprisingly hadn't heard as I'd been walking towards them. Honestly to me, it wasn't that surprising though; sometimes I got so focused on what was going on inside my head that the outside world just melted into a low hum.

I'd stopped in my tracks, not knowing what to do from the surprise of it. But then the altercation had turned physical. Screams from nearby psychiatrists and nurses mixed with the ragged ferocity of Croc's voice, plus shouted threats from the guards made for a cacophony of chaos. He'd knocked people down, and some of them were sent flying during his rampage - which, from what I'd seen of his crimes, was tame in comparison - and somehow, his eyes set on me down the hall. I think he'd just been looking for who to hurt next; what other violence and terror he could inflict. Before I knew it he was in front of me, and had me pinned back against the wall, staring down at me with his somehow still shackled hands resting on the wall above my head, body vibrating with rage and exertion. I hadn't even realized I'd put both hands on his massive, scaly and muscular chest to keep him at bay from crushing me - not that that would have stopped him if he'd really wanted to do it.

The guards a few feet away were all groaning on the ground, backup had yet to arrive, and Killer Croc was standing over me, sandwiching me between the wall and his hard, large body. And he hadn't killed me. He'd been trying to intimidate me, sure (probably because he'd caught me staring), as well as everyone else, but he didn't hurt me. I think he had intended to, but my hands on his chest had taken him by surprise as much as it had me. He'd leaned down close and smelled my hair, and his shackled hands that were bigger than my whole head had lowered so he could take a piece of the dark strands between his fingers. "Such soft hands," he murmured, rasping voice now a low rumble that I could feel vibrate beneath my palms on his abdomen. "Such a sweet scent," His voice dropped another octave and I know now it was because the next part was only for me to hear: "I wonder if you taste as good as you smell..."

Despite the situation at hand, I'd felt heat rise to my cheeks, and embarrassingly I'd felt it elsewhere, too. And he'd noticed, he had to have noticed, because he chuckled lowly in surprised amusement - and then to my horror and even further embarrassment he'd inhaled even more deeply. To anyone else it looked like he was just being his usual, scary self - but none of them had heard what he'd said to me. Thank god.

And then at some point the guards had come to and backup had arrived and they'd pulled him off of me (only because he'd let them, I was sure), and I'd been in a daze for hours afterwards. When they had pulled him away from me, he'd told me, "I've got your scent, sweet one,"

Later that day when I'd taken my panties off, they'd been absolutely soaked - they'd practically stuck to me.

And apparently word had gotten around to the scummier guards and orderlies that Croc had cornered me and not killed me, and non-surprisingly it had piqued their interest.

And now here we are.

Think, think, think - no, get yourself under control first, you can't do anything if you faint.

I struggled to control my breathing, idly looking around at my surroundings. Leaning my head back against the wall, a bunch of things were going through my head at this moment, but I tried to make my mind blank so as not to have that aide in me passing out. In my mind I made a simple plan: I'll find a way out of here, I'll go to Aaron Cash, and I'll report them. Sometimes simplifying what needed to be done greatly helped me in situations. For this one, it was a good start.

Catching my breath, I wondered if there were cameras down here. If I could find one, maybe I could alert someone that I was trapped down here... in the Croc's lair.

I hadn't forgotten about last week - not at all. But I was trying really hard to stay calm, and thinking about him did not keep me calm at all. I'd seen him before a few times, but only from afar. Not that close; never that close.

Plus, what he'd said to me, how he'd acted... it had to have all been for show, right? Even if he had growled those things just low enough for me and only me to hear... I shook the thought out of my head. Right now I just needed to focus on getting out.

From somewhere not too far from where I sat, a splash hit the water. I turned quickly to locate the source of the sound, but noticed that it was just some rubble breaking off from the ceiling. I was relieved, but also sarcastically thought to myself Great, on top of everything else, now I'll have to worry about the goddamn place collapsing on me.

Then, from out of nowhere it seemed, he rose up from out of the water, jumping up and landing on the stone floor a few feet from me, with a thud that shook the ground beneath me. My heart went to my throat and I gasped so sharply it hurt, and I wondered Is this it? Is this really it?

A low hiss was emanating from him as he straightened to his full height, which had to have been at least eight feet tall. It was then that his eyes focused, really focused on me, and he tilted his scale covered head to the side, curiously. "Well if it isn't the pretty one with the soft hands - thought I was hallucinating there for a moment." He chuckled lowly, the sounding causing my insides to quiver, and not necessarily in a bad way. "What's a sweet little thing like you doing down here in my dark, dank abode?"

I couldn't find my words. What on earth was I even supposed to say to him? Was there really anything to say? It was just like the scummy guys outside the door were saying - he was probably just going to eat me anyways. What was even the point?

His head lifted from me to the door, and it was then that I noticed that the dirtbag guards and orderlies on the other side of the door were still pounding on it and jeering through the thick steel. And that meant that Croc could definitely hear it, too.

He growled low in his chest, and took a few more steps onto the stone floor away from the edge by the water. Each step felt like a tiny earthquake underneath me, and I instinctively pulled my legs up towards my chest, as though trying to shrink back into the wall. Croc turned an ear towards the door, tilting his head once again, his golden-yellow eyes focusing on me, and they were once again regarding me curiously. His brow grew heavier over his eyes the more he heard what the men on the other side of the door were saying. "Scum." he snarled, the ferocity of his uttered word making me jump. Even when he wasn't speaking there were... noises coming out of him. Reptilian-like noises, every time he exhaled. But something about the venom injected into that single word sent a chill up my spine and made me flinch.

He noticed this - I imagined that not much escaped his gaze, him being an apex predator and all that. His senses were keen, far keener than any normal human. He noticed me - he saw me.

Now he took a few steps towards me, and I pulled my legs up to my chest as much as I could, making myself look as small as possible. He didn’t stop until he was right before me, only a mere few inches from my feet, and then he stopped. He crouched before me, every exhale a hot, deep rasp of air that I could feel on my skin under my clothes. I knew you weren’t supposed to look predators in the eye, but I was more afraid to look away - to take my eyes off of him. And honestly… I didn’t want to. He was so interesting to look at. I’d seen him before the event a few days ago, a couple of times. Down the hall being led in and out of his therapy sessions, on security footage whenever there was an incident involving him (there were many), and on his paperwork, which I'd helped file when he arrived. Up close, he was even more mesmerizing.

Even crouched he still towered over me, and he slowly reached out a hand towards me; towards my head. He took a piece of my black hair between his claw-tipped fingers once again, and it appeared as though his movements were deliberately slow because he was trying not to scare me. “So the scourge of Arkham sends in such a pretty little morsel for me to play with. Tell me; do you think they’re expecting you to come out alive?”

I shuddered openly at his words, his proximity, his yellow eyes that seemed to be staring into my very soul. My gaze dropped to the ground- what was I supposed to do now? I felt defeated, even more than scared. “Just do what you’re gonna do.” My words carried practically no volume, and a tear rolled down my cheek and dripped onto my knee.

He released my hair, and one massive, claw-tipped appendage slid under my chin to gently tilt my face back up to look at him. He tilted his own large, scale covered head at me, a low rumble emanating from him as he appeared to study me. “I’m not gonna eat you.” he rumbled, his voice softer- well, as soft as his harsh rasp could be. Softer much like in the way he’d said… what he’d said to me upstairs, for my ears only. And then he said, “Not in the way you’re thinking.”

I thought back to what he’d said to me a few days ago: I wonder if you taste as good as you smell… and god help me I felt that same heat between my legs that I’d felt the first time. I looked at him knowingly, my eyes wide with realization. He chuckled deeply, the sound rumbling from his massive chest through his arm and into me, and I felt myself grow wet. Something about his voice…

The pounding from the steel door grew more pronounced, more frantic from the other side, it seemed, and Croc flicked a glance over his massive shoulder before turning that gaze back to me and saying: “So whaddya say we cut a deal?”

I looked at him in question, but nodded. If he was going to eat me- as in swallow me and then digest me in pieces- there probably wouldn’t be any talk about a deal… right?

His yellow gaze burned into me with heat and he said, “You let me get a taste of of that sweet pussy-“ I felt a clench down below at his crass, direct words, “-and then I’ll let you go.” The hand that had been under my chin was now held out in front of me, waiting for me to shake. “Deal?”

The steel door still had pounding coming from the other side, and it seemed like they were trying to bust the damn thing down. I made my decision: I took his huge hand. Well, really he took mine. His hand enveloped mine completely, so much so that it was almost comical. And we shook on it.

The banging on the door was near frenzied now, and Crocs golden eyes had a glint in them as he noticed- a mischievous one. “Wanna make them sweat a bit?”

Those assholes had thrown me in here, not knowing what would happen to me, all for a late night joke. With resolve I nodded again, and Croc now rose to his full height, towering over me, and offered me his hand. I looked at him- towering height, scale covered body, thick with muscle and power, yellow eyes- and I took his hand once again, letting him pull me up off the ground. As soon as I was standing on my own two feet, he swung me up into his arms bridal style, making me gasp in surprise, and he turned towards the water. “Hold tight, pretty one.” He rasped as the door behind us began to creak as it was being attempted to be opened. I clutched my arms around his thick, sinewy neck, and then Croc jumped with me in his arms into the water.

He turned the corner to go left down the maze of tunnels right as the door was finally pulled open. Thankfully he didn’t submerge us, or any part of me at all, and standing at his full height the water only came up to his hips. Over the sound of him breathing (with every exhale being a grating rasp) and the sound of running water all around us, I could hear the guards and orderlies voices echoing from somewhere behind us in the cavernous tunnel, calling out, and much to my delight, sounding worried and fearful. They’d been trying to scare me- and now who was scared? I snickered at the thought of them scrambling to try and figure out how to explain this one, and I noted Croc tilt his head down at me in amusement. “You’re a little twisted too, ain’cha?”

Without much thought about the question, I shrugged, still looking over Crocs shoulder behind us at the flashlight beams that were growing steadily more and more distant the farther we went. In truth, I do have a twisted side, but wouldn’t normally share that info with most people. This situation, however… was a little different. A lot different, actually.

Soon, we rounded another corner, and the flashlight beams in the distance faded altogether, as well as the voices. Internally I felt gleeful with vengeance- I imagined the fear when I was not sitting and cowering where they’d left me, and the panic they were probably feeling right now. I don’t think they’d intended to actually have anything happen to me- they were just looking to scare me. A joke, if you will; something that could easily be glanced over by HR with a slap on the wrist, don’t do it again. But now, now they were scared. And I reveled in it.

I looked at Croc, who was facing forward, watching where we were walking, and I squeaked out, “Thank you,”

He looked at me, and I saw his yellow eyes had surprise in them. He rumbled, “No need to thank me. Eye for an eye - a kindness for a kindness.”

I puzzled over his words, and balked at his fairness. This was not anything I’d ever heard about him; the savage, bloodthirsty animal that only saw humans as food and nothing else.

“A kindness…?” I didn’t want to question him and his logic, less he kill me for not knowing what he was talking about, but admittedly I was confused. What kindness was he referring to, exactly, that I’d done for him?

He ceased walking when we came to a four way set of tunnels, and he fixed his yellow gaze on me once again. “You touched me with no malice, and you looked at me without fear,” His eyes could practically light me on fire, they burned so much. I shivered under his gaze. “To me, that’s a kindness. It’s… refreshing.” He continued on walking then, turning right and bringing us deeper into the tunnels. “Not many people look at me like they’re not afraid; if they do they’re usually crazy,” Here he gave me a side eye that I could tell was meant to be a playful insinuation; maybe I was crazy, too.

“Well,” I cleared my throat, shrugging, “I do work here,”

He let out a bark of laughter as though surprised at my humor, and I realized that I enjoyed making him laugh.

“If ya ain’t gone crazy yet, just give it time,”

I couldn’t help but crack a smile; I liked his humor, too.

We walked for a little bit longer, his steady, rasping breathing strangely lulling amidst the sounds of running water and dripping. I was glad this wasn’t an actual sewer anymore, to say the least.

After a few moments we came upon an area that has a little more lighting to it, but not by much. That was okay though; I liked the dark. And so did my new, scaly ‘friend’, it seemed. As we neared a platform that was enclosed with three floors, looking more solid than some of the floating wooden boards, I saw that atop of the stone slab was a mattress (a very large one) and a few more assorted items… along with what I soon realized were bones strewn about.

I shuddered, and he noticed, “Sorry - woulda cleaned up if I’d known I was having company,” He didn’t say it maliciously, more almost sympathetically.

I didn’t know what to say to this, so I just kept my mouth shut. I didn’t imagine he had much company down here - unless it was food.

“Do you… really eat people?” I didn’t know why I asked this, but I felt the need to, for some reason. Seeing the bones made this situation all the more real.

He huffed out a chuckle, leaping up out of the water and landing on his two huge clawed feet on the edge of the stone platform - and scaring the shit out of me in the process. “I really eat people,” he intoned, his words dark but with a hint of that same amusement. I began to wonder if this was a good idea after all; the sight of the human bones really making me fidgety in his impossibly strong arms.

He felt me tense in his arms and gave me a squeeze, his chest was rock hard against my left rib cage, and I took in a few deep breaths to try and calm myself. Was this the part where I should be fighting for my life? Should I really have trusted him?

“Your heart is beating so fast,” he hissed, the crocodile purr pleasant but so fucking predatory at the same time. I shifted in his grip, on the verge of struggling, as he walked us towards his gigantic mattress on the stone ground. There were little pools of water on the floor in places between the cracks, and every time he took a step they rippled, as though there was an earthquake.

Should I try to escape? Fuck, I’m such an idiot-

“It’s like music to my ears,” He stopped when we reached the side of the bed, gazing at me with a glimmer in those deadly yellow eyes. “Usually I don’t have a chance to savor the sound,” His grip tightened on me once again, not enough to hurt, but if it did anymore it probably would. “I just get so hungry,”

Breathe, breathe, think, think-

“Luckily, tonight,”

Fuckfuckfuckfu-

“I can savor you for as long as we both want.”

…What?!

Unable to stand it anymore, I gulped and asked point blank, “Croc, are you… sure you're not gonna eat me?” I was afraid to hear the answer; afraid I had wandered into a trap- right into the mouth of the crocodile, literally.

He chuckled deeply, the sound vibrating pleasantly in his chest and coursing through my body as it was pressed to his- I felt that same arousal as before even though I was scared. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Well,” he said in amusement, “the deal was for just a little taste… but if you really want me to, that can be arranged, too.”

It was then that I realized he was fucking with me.

I balked once again, a little outraged that he was enjoying scaring me. “You- Fuck you!“

“Don’t sweat it little one - I just like the way your heartbeat sounds when you’re afraid,” A flash of heat went through his yellow eyes, “Kinda like thisss,”

And then he threw me onto the bed, and when my back hit the mattress he came down on top of me, his massive body surrounding me, and there was nothing I could do - there was nowhere to go; he was everywhere.

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

AN: I do not own the Batman: Arkham Asylum franchise or any of it's characters, but Kris is my own OC.

part two

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