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raspberryfingers · 11 months

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A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 4)

WARNINGS: Mentions of rape/SA, Blood

Word Count: 8.5k

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Loras was the first person I saw upon waking up, which was reassuring because nothing else about the room I was in was familiar. I was lying back in bed, and for a moment I thought I was dreaming.

“Sister?”

I raised my eyebrows at my younger brother, yawning and lifting my arms so that I might rub my tired eyes. Doing this made me realize that I most certainly was not dreaming, for it sent a sharp pain up my side. Suddenly, memories of the previously forgotten battle came flooding back to me. Some were certainly clearer than others, but it did not take much concentration to recall the fact that Tywin Lannister had carried me across the battlefield and saved my life. Even if I did not want to give him that credit, it was what he was owed for doing such a thing.

“Loras?”

“You’re finally awake, thank the gods. You’ve been out for three days now, much to all our concern. Though I suppose that was better than being awake for any of it. From what I’m told you gave the healers and maesters quite the job,” he said, motioning to my wound. I presumed it had been both cleaned and stitched, and decided that he was right; it was a good thing I had been unconscious for it.

“Are we in the Red Keep?” I questioned, looking around. I could hear waves crashing against rocks somewhere nearby, which made me think that the answer to my question was yes.

“Yes, we are. Tywin Lannister chose your room, I believe. Perhaps he’s trying to appease you, because it’s certainly quite nice,” Loras suggested with a grin, joining me in my observation of the space. He was correct in his statement about the quality of it, as I’d been given a rather large bed and plenty of space. There was also a circular table with some food set out, and I thought it might be good to eat something. I doubted that I’d enjoyed anything of real substance in the last several days.

“Tywin Lannister does not know what the word appeasement means, Loras. Is your room this large?” I asked, though not without taking the chance to remind my brother that the Lord of the Rock was still my sworn enemy. He had probably just put me wherever was most convenient, or perhaps most inconvenient for me.

“No, but this one’s most likely been chosen due to its relative lack of stairs. My bedroom is higher up, and unfortunately requires many more steps. It’s somewhere near the tower of the hand, I believe,” Loras complained, looking around with a sigh. Scratch that idea about inconvenience, then.

I suddenly felt the need to sit up, for my back was rather stiff. I motioned for my brother and reached out with a sort of desperation. Loras understood, moving forward to help me sit up. I was successfully able to, but not without hissing in pain. I tried not to consider how long it would take this damned wound to heal.

“I don’t know which part is worse, the stairs or having to be closer to Tywin Lannister. Both of those thoughts make me want to die,” I joked with a groan, to which Loras smiled and shook his head at me. I reached out toward the nightstand beside the bed, wanting the cup full of wine that was set down there. I needed something to dull this pain.

“Most definitely the stairs, I promise you that.”

I thought about my memories from that night some more, and recalled the way Lord Tywin had practically carried me across the entire battlefield. He hadn’t let me die; he wouldn’t let me. I remembered his words of encouragement, and the way that he had kept me pressed against his chest with every ounce of strength in his body. He was miles stronger than most men his age, it seemed. I found myself wondering why he had gone to so much effort to save my life. I mean, seven hells, I had begged the man to let me die.

“But, (Y/N), there’s something else I should tell you. At least, Margaery thought I should,” Loras said after a moment, breaking me from my thoughts.

“Hm?”

“It’s about Margaery. We were discussing the subject and- well, there’s to be a sort of ceremony at the end of this week. It’s generally expected that King Joffrey will do House Tyrell some sort of honor. Our sister would like for me to request their betrothal,” Loras said, though his words were cautious for some reason. That was generally what we had already planned for at Highgarden. Had something changed in the last several days?

“This was what we agreed upon before I accepted Baelish’s offer, yes? How is this news?” I questioned, sighing out as I took several gulps of wine. Gods, it felt good to have something to numb this indescribable pain. It somehow made me angry that the man who’d given it to me was afforded death. I’d much rather he have lived in pain.

“There have been rumors. Grandmother has noted that when people speak of Joffrey… well, it’s either very false or somewhat unpleasant. She wants to find out more, but both her and Margaery agreed that I ought to inform you about it once you woke up. Just so you aren’t surprised,” Loras explained, pouring me more wine once I’d finished the modest amount in my cup. He gave me a condescending look to suggest that I ought to slow down, but poured more anyway. I couldn’t resist a small grin.

“I see. If Joffrey does turn out to be rather cruel, it would be regrettable. Gods know that all Margaery wants is to be queen, and it would be quite frustrating to have some boy ruin half of the reason I agreed to this damned alliance in the first place,” I noted with a sigh, shaking my head at the very thought of it. All I currently knew was that Joffrey had called for Ned Stark to be beheaded, but I supposed he had that coming. This new information made me wonder if there was perhaps more to that situation than mere treason.

“That’s the other reason I wanted to talk to you about it. Even if Joffrey does end up being cruel, Margaery still wants to go through with it anyways. You know her, with her seductive abilities,” my brother scoffed, pouring himself a cup as well. It seemed that this conversation warranted it.

“If anybody can ‘tame’ a cruel man, I’d leave it to Margaery. If she doesn’t manage to, however, I’m not afraid to show the king a thousand times more wrath than I’ve bestowed upon his grandfather.”

“Ha! When being queen comes naturally to her and she gets bored, perhaps she can take a crack at the Old Lion himself.”

“And if she somehow managed to, it would be the hardest thing she ever did. I’m afraid even her talent has limits.”

Loras and I both laughed rather heartily, so much so that I was instantly grabbing at my side and hissing with pain. Even then, it took quite a lot of willpower to subdue my laughter over the thought. If Margaery herself couldn’t make Tywin Lannister a better man—which I knew for a fact wasn’t possible—I highly doubted that anybody could.

I sighed out, leaning back against the pillows as I waited for the sharp, stabbing feeling to dissipate. I wished that I could be given more milk of the poppy without it being dangerous.

“I know I can’t make the pain go away, but is there anything I can do?”

“Will you help me dress? I don’t trust any of the maids here just yet, and I’d like to go sit in the gardens for a while. I need fresh air,” I asked my brother, trying to relax as my level of pain went back to something that felt slightly bearable.

“Certainly, which dress would you like?” Loras questioned in reply, getting up from his seat beside my bed and opening my closet. I was surprised to find various dresses from home already hung and arranged by color. I imagined that perhaps Margaery and my grandmother had put together a trunk for me.

“The pink one. Yes, that one would be best. The sides are open, it won’t irritate the wound as much,” I reasoned, sitting straighter and removing my shift as painlessly as possible. Actually, nothing about it was painless, but I supposed it could’ve been much much worse. By how much I wasn’t certain, but I tried to tell myself that.

Loras came over to the bed again and helped me into my dress, and even that process involved very much pain. I was forced to work my legs and arms into it very awkwardly so that none of the stitches would split, but it was almost as though I could feel the tugging. Thankfully, it was over relatively quickly, and he proceeded to help me into some shoes.

“Will you be alright walking so soon? It’s only been a few days,” He noted with concern, giving me his arm so I could test out standing up. I was able to do that on my own, but I did have to hold onto him once I decided to take a step forward.

“Yes, I’m certain it’ll be fine. Also, can you fetch whatever chambermaid they assigned to me? I don’t trust you to do my hair any justice,” I said, gripping his arm while I limped over to the vanity. When I saw myself in the mirror, Loras could no longer hold in his laugh. My hair was quite a mess, and I pretended to scoff at his childishness as I sat on the small stool. It was quite amusing, if I was honest.

“Certainly, sister. If any rats come crawling out of that, just scream and I’m certain the guards outside the door will try their best to find it,” Loras teased, chuckling to himself as he left the room. I merely rolled my eyes, reaching for my brush. I attempted to do my own hair, but the raising of my arms stretched my torso and hurt so horribly that I nearly began to cry. No, I would unfortunately have to burden some poor girl with this mess.

My thoughts were interrupted by the creaking of my door, and I looked over to find a young woman stepping in. She seemed more or less around my age, and she had strawberry blonde hair with a sweet face. Her eyes were hazel, and there was something warm about her. I felt relaxed instantly.

“Hello,” I greeted, giving her a gentle smile. It was all I could muster at the present moment.

“Hello, my lady. Your brother said you needed assistance with your hair?” She confirmed, closing the door and approaching the vanity. She did not even look shocked at the sight, and treated it like it was any normal task. I supposed it wasn’t the worst thing she could be dealing with, but I still felt bad.

“I would’ve attempted it myself, but well-“

“Your wound, ma’am. I know, they asked for someone with a bit more medical knowledge than usual. I’ve been looking after you these last few days,” she informed, smiling and reaching for my brush.

“What is your name?” I asked as she raised the tool and carefully began to untangle everything. She was trying her very hardest not to hurt me, and I wanted to explain that as a girl my chambermaid had practically used the thing as a weapon. In contrast, I almost couldn’t even tell that this girl was brushing my hair.

“Cerella, my lady,” she replied softly, smiling at me through the mirror. It matched her face perfectly, and I gave her a satisfied nod.

“That’s quite pretty.”

“Thank you, how would you like your hair?”

“Nothing too much, just a braid or two that meet in the back,” I said, not caring to give myself a headache, or her too much to do. Neither my sister nor I cared for the somewhat elaborate styles that Queen Cersei was known for. I doubted I could sit still for that long.

Cerella nodded and promptly got to work, leaving me to my thoughts. I wondered where Margaery was, and the same for my grandmother. I wanted to see them very badly, and I also wanted to inquire about my father. It made me feel like a young girl again, waiting for his judgment of my leadership. I prayed that even despite my wound he would recognize that I had otherwise fought valiantly and made smart choices.

“There you are, my lady. Is that alright?”

“Perfect, Cerella, thank you. That’ll be all.”

She nodded, giving a slight curtsy and then leaving. Once she was gone, I admired the style in the mirror. She had done quite a good job, especially after having to deal with untangling everything as well.

With a sigh, I planted my palms into the wood of the dresser and slowly attempted to stand. It was so painful that every few seconds I would have to stop and take several deep breaths, and I felt certain that perhaps an infant would have an easier time doing it.

Eventually, though, I managed to rise from my seat, and I sighed out with great relief as I did. I began walking towards the door, too, and that was somehow even worse than trying to stand. Each step I took produced pain, but I was far too proud to admit that I needed either a cane or assistance.

I finally managed to exit the room, though it had been quite a taxing experience and I was somewhat wary about actually being able to make it to the gardens. Nevertheless, I would at least try to get there.

As I was making my way to the gardens, however, I discovered a grassy courtyard near my chambers that was full of flowers and various other kinds of plants. I could smell its sweet scent from the hallway, and deciding that the pain of walking was becoming far too unbearable, I instead opted to sit in this flowery courtyard.

I managed to find a stone bench hidden among the greenery, and I found that beads of sweat had formed on my forehead when I sat down. A headache had also formed due to my exertion, and so I closed my eyes for a moment and prayed that all of my pain would simply go away.

When I felt relaxed enough, I opened my eyes and decided to admire all the plants in this secluded garden. There were vibrant, beautiful colors of every kind surrounding me, and it reminded me of Highgarden in quite the comforting way. I found myself wishing that I was at Highgarden, and wishing that this dreadful war had never started to begin with. I ought to have been enjoying ripe peaches in the gardens with Margaery and our other relatives, chasing the younger ones through the hedge maze and laughing because I would find them everytime. I wished that I was practicing with Ser Elias and Loras in the courtyard, enjoying the feeling of cold water rushing down my parched throat. I even wished that I was sitting in my bedroom, reading while curled up on the small sofa by my window that overlooked the river.

No, instead I was here in King's Landing, the worst city in all seven kingdoms, sitting on a random stone bench with nothing to do because I was in so much pain. Unnecessary pain, too. Pain that would’ve been avoided if I hadn’t accepted Littlefinger’s proposal.

“Lady (Y/N).”

I instantly recognized the voice, but I turned around in surprise. Lord Tywin had managed to find me here, somehow. He approached comfortably, and I swallowed the lump in my throat that had appeared over the thought of being back at Highgarden.

“Lord Tywin,” I found myself replying, unsure of what to say. The last time I’d seen him I’d been slung across his body trying not to die, and that’s not exactly a very conversational topic.

“May I sit with you?” He asked, glancing at the bench for a moment and then back at me. I debated saying no, for I truly had no desire to be in a worse mood, but I figured that he deserved at least a little kindness for helping me.

“Certainly.”

I moved over, giving him enough room to sit beside me, though I was nervous as to whatever he was going to bring up. The act of sitting—to me, at least—suggested a lengthier conversation, and that was not a particularly comforting thought.

“How did you find me here?” I questioned, looking around. It would certainly be very difficult to spot someone from the halls, for the plants were too high and the bench too secluded.

“I saw you enter the garden from down the hall, but I was busy speaking to another lord,” he said, holding his hands over the bottom of coat and sitting down beside me. He adjusted himself for a moment, and then finally stilled.

I nodded in response to his answer, and I meant to say something along the lines of ‘I see,’ but it had not come out in time. I suddenly felt awkward, and I did not like that. Trying to be civil to a man that I so despised felt wrong, even if I knew that it was the least I could do.

“How is your wound?”

I looked over at him and opened my mouth to speak, but figured that it might just be easier to show him. I adjusted the loose silk at the side of my dress, opening the slit wider and moving my arm for him to see it. I could feel the slight stickiness of gauze there, but assumed that at some point they’d removed my bandages to let it breathe.

“In all honesty, I haven’t even looked at it yet. All I know is that it hurts worse than all seven hells. I’ve never felt pain like this,” I admitted, watching as he moved his head back a little bit to see better. Lord Tywin observed it carefully before nodding, his eyes scanning over the entire thing.

“They did a good job with the stitching. I’m… sorry that it hurts,” he noted, watching as I put my dress back into place. I could tell those two words had not fallen from his tongue in many years. Not genuinely, at least.

“It’ll heal eventually. Though, for the moment it’s awful. I meant to find my way to the actual gardens but… well, I could only make it this far,” I explained with a sigh, folding my hands in my lap while I did. There was something incredibly degrading about not even being able to go where you wanted to.

“Stairs are an unfortunate part of the Red Keep. I put you where there were as few as possible, even if it does not make much of a difference overall.”

“I thank you for that. And I- well, thank you for saving my life, Lord Tywin. Especially after all I’ve said to you,” I told him, raising my eyes so I could meet his. Saying it made my heart pound as though I were revealing some grand secret, and I did not like how insecure it made me feel. I never imagined there would be a day where I said thank you to Tywin Lannister for any reason.

“You do not have to find me agreeable, Lady (Y/N), for I most certainly do not find you to be so either, but our alliance is important. If you had died, it would have complicated quite a lot of things,” he said, making me remember just how insufferable the man truly was. He just had to mention that he did not like me. Well, it was of little importance, I would do the same later on.

“Would it have? If anything, I should think that me dying would’ve made the Lannister-Tyrell alliance much easier for you to handle. There would be nobody disagreeable for you to deal with, and I’m quite certain that neither my father nor brother would contest you,” I replied, raising both eyebrows with false surprise. I wondered what kind of response he would conjure up to that statement.

“You’re correct, I would certainly have this… thorn removed from my side, but even so, you are vastly more competent than the rest of your family. Your brother would not have had the confidence to make an immediate decision about the wildfire the way that you were prepared to. And your father…” Lord Tywin trailed off, and I could not resist a small smile as I finished his sentence.

“Is a ponderous oaf? In my grandmother’s words, anyway.”

Lord Tywin said nothing, but gave me a look that affirmed what I had said. He then sighed and continued.

“I’ll say this much, I prefer someone that dislikes me to someone utterly stupid. You’re certainly not the latter,” he said, taking a deep breath and exhaling tiredly. I might’ve noted that if I had died, my grandmother would’ve taken on my role, but in all honesty, I knew that she had even less desire to speak with Lord Tywin than I did. She’d spent her whole life around foolish men, I expected it had become quite droll.

“I see. Well, either way, I thank you for it,” I replied, trying my hardest to maintain an unaffected tone despite my deep annoyance. Why would Tywin Lannister ever do a single good thing for someone else unless it benefitted him somehow? I was merely another piece in his chess game, and he did not want to give me up and only be left with pawns.

“Of course.”

There was a silence between us then, and I expected that he would get up and leave now that we’d had a discussion on the subject, but instead he cleared his throat and began again.

“I was worried about you,” he admitted suddenly, glancing at me and then glancing away as if he was embarrassed to experience emotions. I wasn’t surprised by his pride, but I was certainly surprised by his sentiment.

“How do you mean?”

“You kept fainting, I was worried you’d die in my arms,” he said, shaking his head and glancing at my wound again. He had an odd look in his eyes, almost as if he was thinking about a distant memory. Either way, he was clearly being genuine, and I had not expected it. Especially when moments ago he’d noted that the only reason he’d bothered to help me was so he would not be left with only my brother and father to deal with.

Though, I considered his sentiment more, and my heart sank as I pondered the fact that his fear had been entirely plausible.

“I thought I would. I was trying so hard to hold on but I truly thought I would die… it was an odd feeling. It was both frightening and comforting.”

“Well, you lived. That’s all that matters…” he trailed off for a moment, and then I saw a sort of mischievous spark in his eyes. It caught me somewhat off guard. “You would have died in the arms of an insufferable cunt, wouldn’t that have been sad?”

I had not expected him to say such a thing, and so naturally I couldn’t help laughing. Lord Tywin flashed a rare smile in response to my giggling, and I wondered if perhaps the maesters had given me too much milk of the poppy. I quickly realized they hadn’t though, because the pain in my side that laughter caused forced me to quickly compose myself. I resorted to simply smiling instead. Tywin Lannister making me smile, who would’ve thought? I supposed he’d done the same when I was a girl, before he’d revealed himself to be an insufferable cunt at any rate. Though, that led to another thought.

“I suppose, out of the kindness of my heart, I can remove one part of that title. As a reward, let’s say, for saving my life. Would you prefer to remain insufferable or a cunt?” I asked, grinning even wider. Even despite my hatred for the man, there was something invigorating about our current banter.

Lord Tywin, much to my surprise, let out a rather loud ‘ha!’ and shook his head as he began to contemplate. After a moment, he turned to me with a clever look on his face.

“I’d prefer to be a cunt, but I wouldn’t have saved your life if I was one, so I suppose you ought to pick the more fitting title.”

“Very well, you shall remain insufferable,” I announced, to which he simply raised an eyebrow. Though I had said it in a partially humorous tone, there was also a glare in my eyes to remind him that nothing had really changed. I meant it, he was still insufferable.

“A curious sentiment given that I offered House Tyrell an alliance, showed you much more respect than you deserved, and saved your life.”

“Which is precisely why I will always find you insufferable, Lord Tywin. No matter how long I live. You seem to believe that you are owed something because you have done a decent act, but that is the farthest thing from the truth. Your offer was a benefit to you, just as you noted a few minutes ago. It’s the same reason you saved my life, correct?”

Lord Tywin stared at me quietly, and I saw the annoyance starting to develop on his face. I continued.

“I may be grateful that you saved my life, Lord Tywin, but it doesn’t change anything. I’m not going to get down on my knees and worship you just because you practiced self control and behaved closer to how a man ought to than usual. No, nothing in the seven hells could ever make me civil towards you for as long as I live,” I said firmly, making sure he understood that his supposed ‘decency’ was still not nearly enough, and how the fact that he thought it was something miraculous was telling in itself. Who did he think he was?

“If I was ever truly cruel to you, Lady (Y/N), then I would understand the root of your hatred, possibly even be amused by it, but I don’t understand what I’ve done to make you hate me so passionately. No, I’m certainly not as kind as other men, I’m quite aware of that fact. But your contempt is based entirely on a single conversation that we had 11 years ago. Is it truly possible that you are so angry simply because you couldn’t handle being told you weren’t as smart as you believed?” he questioned, voice low and filled with malice. There was fire in his eyes, and I found myself wondering if he wished to strike me. I certainly wished to strike him.

“You say that as if you would tolerate it! All it took was one mention of imperfection to set you off, don’t you remember? But to answer your question, no, Lord Tywin, that is not the only reason I hate you so much. It may have sparked the fire, but I assure you plenty more has kept it going. Because even if you’ve never been ‘cruel’ to me, you’ve been cruel to plenty of others, don’t think I’m unaware. I could sit here and list through all your atrocities but I fear you’d already be buried in the Sept of Baelor by the time I was finished. To put it simply, you have no compassion for those around you, Lord Tywin. You don’t care how they feel about anything, or if others have to suffer. It is all about you, all about House Lannister. And from the first moment I met you, you made that abundantly clear,” I scowled, gripping my skirts to prevent my fury from becoming utterly explosive. Genuine anger had begun to make me shake, and my head hurt so bad it was making it even worse.

Lord Tywin and I stared each other down, and I’m sure if anybody had been there to see our conversation, they would’ve believed us about to kill each other. We bore no blades, but our tongues were weapons enough it seemed.

“You’re quite bold, Lady (Y/N), I must give you that. Most men would have their throats slit for saying such a thing to a lord,” he noted, tone deep and aggressive. I knew it was not just a statement, nor was it a direct threat. It was a warning.

“Do you do it yourself, Lord Tywin?”

His eyes seemed to darken further, and I knew I was pushing limits, but I didn’t care. It was addicting to infuriate the man, to know that I had the power to make him so angry. Plus, it was telling that my statement made him so upset. Where Ned Stark had believed that the man who passes the sentence ought to swing the sword, Tywin Lannister was the very opposite in his beliefs. At least, that was what he practiced, anyway.

“Be careful, woman.”

Ah, so it was woman now. Perhaps that was better than girl, for this was at least amusing to me.

“Isn’t it convenient, Lord Tywin? You slit mens throats for offending you, and yet here I am, a woman,” I pointed out, tilting my head in a challenging manner. I was luring him right into a trap.

“If you keep testing me, Lady (Y/N), it won’t matter.”

“I suppose I should be grateful I’m at least receiving warnings. Elia Martell certainly didn’t.”

That did it, and I watched with satisfaction as anger consumed the man beside me. Or rather, in front of me, because he stood up to try and assert some sort of conversational dominance. As he scowled at me, I had to hold back a smile. It was too easy to make him break this way.

“That was war! She and her children were a threat to Robert Baratheon’s claim, and they never would’ve been allowed to live, I only commanded the inevitable. And whatever else Gregor Clegane did to her was not under my command,” he yelled, eyebrows knitted with his fury. His chest had begun to heave a bit, and I found it curious that he was so easily moved to this level of emotion. It was not very ‘lord-like’ of him.

“Then should I remind you of what you did to the woman your son married? Because that was under your command,” I shot back, having heard plenty of stories. My initial dislike toward the Lord of the Rock had fueled an immense interest in his various wrongdoings, and this story in particular had always quite irked me.

“Do not speak of something you have no involvement nor knowledge of,” he snarled, voice firm. His eye twitched for a few seconds.

“You ordered that 50 men rape an innocent girl. So even if Elia Martell’s rape did not happen on your order—which I would like to contest because you have always been aware of Gregor Clegane’s tendencies, and yet had no qualms whatsoever sending him to deal with her—another woman’s has. To you, and to men like you, the rape and murder of women is nothing significant, as demonstrated by the Sack of King’s Landing and your constant pillaging of the Riverlands. The only problem men have with the rape of women is that it is ‘their’ women, and you cannot stand the thought of someone else taking your ‘property’. I can guarantee, Lord Tywin, that you have never once in your life considered the amount of pain that women experience from rape and similar assaults. I can also guarantee that you have directly caused hundreds of these rapes and assaults in your lifetime, and so forgive me if I still hate you despite the fact that you aren’t cruel to me!” I fumed, tears welling in my eyes while I yelled. Even if I hadn’t hated him, the thought of anyone being able to stomach the rape of innocent women made me sick.

I felt myself involuntarily beginning to cry, because although my skills with blades had prevented me from being raped, I wasn’t unfamiliar with assaults of the same nature. One of the first men I’d ever felt any affection for had done such a thing, and since then I had become even more vehemently opposed to marriage. If I was honest, it had made me hesitant to love a man at all, and it had certainly made me hesitant toward any kind of sexual interaction for quite some time. Though I would not admit it, it was one of the reasons I remained a maiden. How could I ever trust another that way?

“Lady (Y/N)…”

I wiped my lower palms against my cheeks and glared at the man before me with blurred vision. He was silent now, and something in his disposition had changed. His face had softened. There was a sort of questioning in his eyes, and I suddenly realized that he could see right through me. He did not know how it had happened, or how extreme it had been, but he could see in my eyes that something had happened to me. I felt deeply ashamed, and I had to look away from him. I couldn’t stomach his pitiful stare, because that was what it was.

“I- I have not been raped, Lord Tywin… though not for a lack of trying. I’m certain you noticed the placement of my blade on the man who was attempting to kill me during the Battle of Blackwater. I would rather- I would rather he had killed me than gotten his wish, and men may not understand that feeling, but I guarantee that many women hold the same sentiment. And you… you have facilitated that pain…” I trailed off, unable to hold back even more tears. They did not want to stop, and I had to choke back a sob. There was a sudden consideration in the man before me, along with an air of guilt. I hoped he was considering my words, because the fear of rape and assault was so shattering that if a man could ever even understand its existence, that was plenty. It would never be enough, but it was plenty.

“You’ve not been raped, but you’ve…” Lord Tywin trailed off as the realization came to him, and it was just a whisper. He had not entirely meant it as a question, it was more like he was processing it. I found myself looking away once more, because I detested this feeling of utter vulnerability. It made me feel weak, it made me feel exposed. Those were two things I never wanted to feel, and especially in front of Tywin Lannister. Gods, why did it have to be in front of him? I found myself pinching the skin of my wrist so I would not break down entirely.

“I apologize, Lady (Y/N)… I… I apologize,” he whispered, unable to take his eyes away from me. For once, a criticism had not made him angry, but had instead made him realize something. And I had been the one to point it out. I could only meet his eyes for a few seconds.

“I am… I am not the one who needs an apology, Lord Tywin. I just- please leave. Please leave before I- before I say or do something that I’ll regret deeply,” I choked out, looking down and shaking my head. There was utter silence in reply, and after a moment I saw his boots shuffle away.

I let out a sigh, finally permitting myself to rub my eyes and properly cry. I had gotten to a point where I did not think about the subject—or my own memory—very often, but it would always be just as painful. And that it had taken this long for Lord Tywin to even consider such a thing made me angry once again. He had the audacity to ask me why I hated him so much as if he had not caused tremendous pain throughout his life. Not only to women, but to all manners of people. And I knew war was war, I knew that all highborn would force the smallfolk to suffer at one point or another, but gods, he had truly never even cared.

It had needed to come from me to make him understand. How was that possible? It was almost laughable, the thought of Tywin Lannister learning decency and compassion from me. Well, that was a stretch. Men like him do not change, not entirely. I supposed all I could hope for was that he would perhaps take it into consideration the next time he wished to employ the Mountain.

At that moment, I was so caught up in my anger and frustration that I had forgotten about the large wound along my side, and therefore decided to stand up rather quickly. I had merely desired to go back to my room, and instead found myself falling straight into the grass.

The pain was so bad that I screamed, and it was almost as if the Baratheon soldier was slicing through me all over again. I desperately gripped my side, hoping to soothe the pain with pressure. When it did not help, I pulled away and observed my hand, finding a tremendous amount of blood there. The stitches had split, giving an explanation for the unbearable amounts of pain I was in.

I suddenly heard quick footsteps coming toward me, and when I looked up I found Tywin Lannister standing there. I knew that he had already been nearby, but gods why couldn’t anybody else have been around? I scowled at him despite my pain.

“No. Leave me, Lord Tywin, I don’t- I don’t want to see you,” I cried out angrily, tears streaming down my face from the god awful pain. The look of concern on his face transitioned to one of subtle annoyance.

“Lady (Y/N), stop it. You need help, you’re bleeding again,” he lectured, kneeling beside me and extending his arms. The last thing I would do was accept his help, especially after the conversation we’d just had. I didn’t need to give him another excuse to think that he was ‘owed’ something.

“I-I’m quite fine, and I don’t need your assistance, Lord Tywin,” I seethed, teeth grinding against each other because I felt like my entire torso was on fire. More than anything, I just wanted him to go away and I wanted the pain to stop.

Lord Tywin sighed, lowering his arms to his sides and glaring for a moment. His annoyance only grew as he watched my blood begin to drip into the grass beneath me.

“Go on then, get up and walk,” he suddenly challenged, annoyed by my stubborn behavior and knowing that I would most assuredly not be able to. And even though I knew he was right, my own pride prevented me from admitting that I could not. It was sort of ironic, really, that I constantly criticized him for his pride and yet had quite a lot. Not that I would ever admit to such a thing, of course.

I tried to lift myself from the ground, but my attempts were fruitless. Instead, I only experienced an even more extreme pain and came straight back down into the grass.

“Fuck!” I gasped out, hot tears now streaming down my cheeks. I could not sob, for sobbing made it hurt even more. It was all just an elaborate cycle of pain, it seemed.

“Ahuh, that’s what I thought. Come on, I’ll help you back to your room and call for the maester,” he said, moving closer and extending his arms once more.

“I’ll get blood all over your jacket.”

“I’ll buy a new one. Now stop being so damn stubborn and let me help you.”

No longer able to deny my pain and my inability to help myself, I let out a little laugh and reached out for Lord Tywin. He wrapped his arms around me ever so carefully, and I found myself clinging to his neck for the second time in far too small of a timespan.

He lifted both of us up slowly, helping me stand first and making sure I was alright. Well, as alright as I could be anyways.

“There you are, good girl. Can you walk?” He questioned, licking his lips apprehensively as he noticed the wound on my side without the stitches intact. I assumed it was quite a gruesome sight. I nodded in response to his question, however, and he took a deep breath as though preparing himself for however painful this walk might be. I supposed I was quite a burden when I was hurt or angry, and currently I was a bit of both.

We slowly moved forward together, and I suddenly discovered that I could in fact not walk. Tears continued to stream down my cheeks, and he sighed. There was a look of utter defeat on his face for just a few seconds.

“Oh hush now, come on.”

Lord Tywin reached down and placed one arm under my knees, lifting me into his arms completely. I had been surprised to feel him lifting me that way, but I kept my arms around his neck regardless. As he navigated out of the garden, I once again considered that he was in rather good shape for a man of his age. He was what, 66 now? It was very impressive.

My eyes were still watering, and my breath was shaking, but I felt secure in Lord Tywin’s arms like this. He was not even struggling to hold me this way, and I supposed it helped that he was so much larger than I was overall. I felt my anger disappearing somehow, and I wondered how that was possible.

“T-Thank you, Lord Tywin” I whispered, burying my face in his neck to avoid the embarrassment of people seeing me cry. There were not many around, but still, I did not want to risk it. I could feel his stubble pricking at my face, especially when he spoke.

“You’re welcome, Lady (Y/N).”

He made his way up the stairs to my chambers, and the first maid he saw faced his wrath. It had almost surprised me, because he’d been quite level headed the entire time.

“Go fetch a maester, now!” he scowled, causing the young girl to scurry off. Even despite my pain I felt rather bad for her.

“Don’t yell at the maids, Lord Tywin, they didn’t do anything.”

“You can lecture me about my lack of compassion, Lady (Y/N), but I’ll yell at whoever I please. You’re in pain and you’re bleeding. Urgency is crucial,” he scoffed, adjusting his grip on me ever so slightly. It was the first time he had needed to.

As we got to my room, the guard quickly opened my door and Lord Tywin rushed me inside. My tears were finally beginning to slow, but I did groan out as he set me down on the bed. The sheets and mattress could easily be changed if I bled through.

“Are you feeling alright? Lightheaded?” He asked, shifting his shoulders as he adjusted to not having my weight in his arms. He looked around, grabbing the handkerchief from off my nightstand and going to dip it in my water bowl. He quickly returned to my side and pressed it to my forehead.

“I’m alright for now. How much is it bleeding?” I questioned, not particularly wanting to look at it. The pain was enough without the visuals.

“Not nearly as much as it was when you received it,” he answered calmly, giving me the impression that perhaps it wasn’t really as bad as it felt. I sighed and nodded, resting my head for just a moment. When I looked at him again though, I noticed that his jacket was absolutely covered in blood. I swallowed, realizing that his answer to my question had merely been a work around of having to tell me that I was bleeding quite a lot. But he was not lying either, because it had certainly bled quite a lot more during the battle.

“Thank you for helping me back, Lord Tywin,” I said, knowing that even if I hadn’t wanted to say it, he did deserve it. I certainly wouldn’t have made it back on my own.

“I wasn’t going to let you sit there in pain, bleeding and unable to walk,” he noted, scoffing and sitting down beside me on the bed. He reached up and turned the wet cloth over, and even if it was utterly useless, it did at least help me focus on something other than the pain.

“Such a chivalrous gentleman,” I teased him, laughing softly. I couldn’t help it, Lord Tywin simply made it too easy. His eyes softened, which was probably the closest thing to a smile he usually allowed. Although I supposed he had actually smiled earlier in the garden.

“My first compassionate act, hm?”

“It must be. Good job, Lord Tywin, you’re improving.”

He looked down so I wouldn’t see, but I could tell he was smiling ever so faintly. It faded after a moment though, and he looked grave when I met his eyes again. I suddenly knew what topic he was going to bring up again.

“As I left, I was considering what you’d said. You’re right, I’d never considered that… perspective of war before. I cannot revoke the things I’ve ordered in the past, Lady (Y/N), nor would I. Throughout my life, I have always done what is best for House Lannister, and I will continue to do so. However, I am fully capable of minimizing the damage that is done when I give orders. The next time that I do instruct Gregor Clegane, or anybody else, to do something for me I will explicitly note that they are not to rape. And those who decide to ignore my command will face consequences, rest assured,” he explained, very much testing my emotions as he did so. Lord Tywin came to his point, however, and I supposed it was satisfactory enough. Death was always inevitable, but rape did not have to be. If he was willing to make efforts, then perhaps I could feel content in knowing that my words had at least had some impact.

“And I’m glad that you’re going to do so, Lord Tywin. I’m glad that you’ve considered my sentiment. But I also feel that I must ask, what about the girl your son married?” I questioned, knowing that even though Elia Martell was dead, that girl might not be. And of course, gold would never fix what she was put through, but it was the very least that Lord Tywin could do.

“I’ll speak to Varys about finding her,” he replied, looking me in the eyes as he did so I would know he was being genuine. I only nodded then, taking a deep breath and looking over at my nightstand.

“Would you pour me a cup, my lord? I need something to soothe the pain until the maester comes,” I requested, still feeling myself shake despite the fact that I was merely lying in bed. Lord Tywin did not say anything, but wasted no time doing as I asked. He also helped me sit up a bit so I could drink, and I was extremely grateful. When I laid back down, he blinked at me a few times and then cleared his throat.

“And I would not presume to know what has happened to you personally, Lady (Y/N), nor do I expect to. But I want you to know that I will see to your safety in King’s Landing. If a man ever touches you, or even looks at you, tell me. I’ll have his hands cut off and his eyes ripped from his skull,” he said, to which I raised an eyebrow. If it hadn’t come from him, I would’ve appreciated the sentiment. And maybe I still would, but I had to be cautious.

“If you are attempting to use that as some sort of bargaining tactic, Lord Tywin, I warn you-”

“No, of course not. I’m being genuine.”

I stared at the man in front of me, my eyebrows furrowed with a sort of distrust. Why did he care about my safety? What about my hatred and constant disrespect gave him any desire to expend energy looking after me?

“Why do you care so much, Lord Tywin?” I questioned, wondering if perhaps it was for the same reason he’d saved my life during the battle. Perhaps helping me in the garden and telling me this right now were simply intended to pacify me. To make me forget my hatred and make me easier to work with. Well, that was certainly not going to be the case.

“I don’t know.”

Lord Tywin and I stared at each other for nearly a minute, neither knowing quite what to say. My lips parted, and I had to force myself to swallow. During that minute, I had practically forgotten all about my pain. All I could focus on was his blue eyes, and the look on his face. He’d never worn this expression before.

Just as I had opened my mouth to conjure up a reply, the maester rushed in. We both looked over at the man, and Lord Tywin stood up. He wouldn’t want to have been seen sitting beside me in bed, even if he hadn’t hated me. It was very important to keep up appearances in King’s Landing, so full of spiders and mockingbirds.

“Her stitches came undone, Maester,” he explained to the man, motioning for me to lift my arm. I did so very carefully, and Lord Tywin moved the bloodied fabric of my dress aside to show him..

“Easy to fix, but it will be painful. Would you like milk of the poppy, my lady?” The maester asked, to which I instantly nodded. Gods, milk of the poppy was all I had been wanting since I’d woken up this morning.

“Would you like me to send for your grandmother?” Lord Tywin offered, letting go of the fabric and rather smoothly wiping his hand on his coat. I might not have even noticed him do it if I wasn’t paying so much attention.

“Yes please, my lord. Thank you.”

He nodded, looking at the maester and then back at me. He looked as though he was hesitating to say something, inhaling and narrowing his eyes for just a moment. He then opened his mouth.

“You’re certain she’ll be alright, Maester?”“Yes, my lord. All will be well,” he reassured Lord Tywin, setting out all his tools. I was instantly filled with dread, and I almost considered asking Lord Tywin to stay. It would be nice to have someone to curse at. But no, I knew that I would much rather prefer my grandmother to be here when I had to deal with the stiching. Lord Tywin nodded at the maester and then afforded me a final glance. His eyes were soft, but only for a moment. He left the room in the next few seconds, off to call for my grandmother. That was the last I saw of him before the ceremony.

TAGLIST:

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@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter

@prettykinkysoul

@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8

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@abigfanofgameofthrones @smalltownbigheart

@frombloodandflesh @supernaturalismyreligion666

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#tywin lannister #tywin lannister x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #charles dance #house lannister #tywin x reader #asoiaf #a lion in the garden

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69bitterbeingz · 4 months

Text

IF YOU'RE GONNA BE DUMB || CH. 5

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DISCLAIMER: This is a reupload from my prev account! best to follow the fic through ao3 [linked below] to avoid any future issues PAIRINGS - johnny knoxville, bam margera, steve-o, chris pontius, ryan dunn x female reader WARNINGS - swearing, drinking, drugs, suggestive shit, blood mention

ao3 version

Music blared through the speakers hooked up to your CD changer, your favourite album filling the room; you could barely do anything without listening to music as well, life wasn’t made to be lived in silence. A mountain of clothes filled the space on your bed, but they weren’t lazily discarded clothes from weeks ago like they usually were - nope, you were just being indecisive.

You don’t think you’ve ever agonised this much over an outfit in your life. Usually you coast through life giving half an ass, but now you were practically killing yourself over making the absolute perfect decision under threat of… what exactly? Maybe you’re going mad. LA is making you crazy. You guess it makes a lot of people crazy, actually. Through the loud music, you were able to hear your bedroom door open - the fact that they didn’t knock first gave away who it was.

“What’re you doing?” Mila asked, wandering over to the bed and rifling through all the discarded pieces. You shrugged, flicking through hangars of dresses.

“I don’t know, trying to figure out what to wear.”

“What?” He screwed up his nose. “Just throw something on like you always do.”

“No, but nothing feels right , I can’t wear it if it doesn’t feel right.”

“The fuck is wrong with you? You’ve never taken more than ten minutes to put on an outfit.”

You pouted, twisting your head to give him a look that said ‘ you’re not helping’. Of course, Mila was unaffected, making himself comfy in the clothes mountain with his lanky legs splayed open.

“Where you going that’s got your panties in a twist?”

You hummed to yourself, considering a strappy red dress that you probably haven’t worn since you were 16. “Uhh, just a house party.”

“It’s one of those douchebags, right? Gonna trash their house for the show?” Mila said it matter-of-factly, and you gave a slight nod of the head, ignoring the 'douchebag' dig. “Are you trying to impress them or something? Since when did you care about that?” The mocking tone left a bit of a bad taste in your mouth, but you decided to let it go; that’s just Mila, ever difficult to be around. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“I don’t. I’m just indecisive tonight.”

“Sure.”

Mila jumped up and smacked your back as he walked past, heading back to the bedroom doorway. “Don’t choke on your vomit.” And disappeared as quickly as he appeared, like a frustrating gnat in the wind. He’s lucky he’s talented. However, you observed your crap pile with pursed lips as you came to the reluctant admittance that he had a point, you were overthinking this. The 7th track started playing, and the heavy thudding beats steadied your racing thoughts as you reached for the unopened beer bottle set on the desk. Popping the cap, you decided you just needed to loosen up first, then you’d be ready. When does it start again? 8?

You glanced at your bedside alarm clock - 9:23 - that gave you maybe an hour, plenty of time to get started.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

You stumbled out of the taxi at 10:37, an empty bottle of wine in one hand and an unopened bottle of absinthe in the other - a housewarming gift for Knoxville’s soon to be destroyed home. Or more, currently being destroyed, as the party was well on its way, random drunks and numerous kegs inhabiting the front garden. Despite already being tipsy, you were nowhere near the level of these guys, you felt almost sober watching them. Thank Christ you didn’t drive here, because lord knows your car wouldn’t make it through the night. Hell, it wouldn’t make it through the next hour by the looks of it.

After discarding the empty bottle near the drive, you traipsed through the carnage of drunk 20 somethings, narrowly dodging a thrown beer bottle before you made it through the front door. The chaos was only more concentrated inside, people packed like sardines, the thick smell of sweat and alcohol permeating the house. As you walked through, you noticed broken glass on the floor, unknown fluids on the walls, people going at it like catholic rabbits - you needed to be way drunker for this shit. Everyone was brushing shoulders as you pushed through the crowd, but you were startled when an arm hooked around your neck from behind, pulling you into the crook of someone’s arm.

“ You took yer fucking time!” The slurred Philly accent immediately clicked.

“Who turns up on time to a party?” You retorted. Whatever your cheek was pressed against didn’t feel like fabric, which is when you realised Bam was totally shirtless, and you were nestled against his totally shirtless chest. Red faced, you pushed yourself out, though he was insistent on keeping his arm around you. You looked around at the drunken havoc. “How the fuck did Knoxville agree to this…?”

Bam practically buckled with laughter, yanking you down with him.

“Aw man, you think he’d actually let this happen? No way!” He straightened up, pure drunken glee on his face as he elaborated. “So, we set it up for him. Who doesn’t like surprise parties?”

“You just brought a fratboy rager to his house??”

“Yup!” He said, popping the ‘p’. “Shoulda seen his face, fuckin’ gold!”

You needed a drink.

“Where is he, anyway?

“Last I saw he was in the kitchen.”

You nodded, and with a little effort, you freed yourself from Bam’s hold in pursuit of Knoxville. You weaved between party-goers, clumsy on your feet as you tried to navigate the bottom floor. It wasn’t long before you arrived, a large modern kitchen with glass sliding doors that led to the back yard. Every inch of counter space was covered in bottles and kegs, full or otherwise, and every corner was filled with yet more people, spilling over into the garden. It took a few seconds of scanning the crowd, but you finally spotted him setting up shots in the corner. You wasted no time approaching him.

“Johnny!” You called as you got close, and his head shot up. He twisted round, and his face went from a confused squint to a smile when he spotted you. His arms fanned outwards and he scooped you up into an enthusiastic hug as soon as you were within reach - he must be pretty wasted.

“ [Y/n]! Good t’see you, sweetheart.” He dragged out your name - God his accent was so strong now, probably thanks to the alcoholic slur.

“You’re in good spirits.” You commented, and he exaggeratedly nodded, a wide smile stretching his cheeks.

“Yesssir! Hey, lemme getcha a drink.” Hand firmly pressed between your shoulder blades, he pushed you towards his corner and slid some of the shot glasses over to you. “ Go on, I’ll do ‘em with ya.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. You awkwardly clutched three shot glasses between your fingers and knocked them back, liquid burning the back of your throat and the unpleasant taste making you want to gag. Johnny followed suit, but drank it like it was smooth as water. Before you could forget, you smacked the bottle of absinthe you brought onto the counter next to his hand.

“This is for you, by the way. To say thanks, not that you really had a say."

“Awww, ain’t you sweet?” He gave you a one armed hug, tucking your head into the crook of his neck for a second [he smelled like wood sandal and booze] then let you go to look at the label. He had to narrow his eyes to make out the text, but once it was legible they widened.

“ 70%? You tryna kill me?”

You sniggered, taking it from him to crack the cap. “Just fatally wound you. C’mon, I’ll do the first with you.” You topped up just two of the six shot glasses [you’re not a fucking animal] then pushed one over to him. “Y’know when Bam said he threw this party without you knowing, I thought you’d be a lot more pissed.”

Johnny shook his head with a giggle. “Don’t worry, ‘m gonna get him back way worse.”

You couldn’t wait to see that. You both picked up your shots, but as you went to cheers, Johnny grabbed your wrist.

“ Wait wait wait! ” He wound his arm around yours to link them, only spilling some absinthe as he did so. You blushed a little, but decided to blame it on the vodka. With a nod, you threw back your shots, awkwardly yanking each other in the process. It numbed your tongue on the way down, the strong aniseed taste much more preferred to the straight ethanol of before. You weren’t sure when, but you knew that 70% was gonna hit hard.

After a few more drinks with Johnny, you excused yourself to the bathroom, and immediately noticed walking was a lot harder than it was before the shots. You clung to the banister of the staircase like a lifeline, but you still managed to trip on your way up. Then was the task of of figuring out which door led to the bathroom… You did the logical thing of kicking open each door ‘til you got it right. Luckily you only walked in on two couples, then the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom blessed you like God on earth. Strangely, though the door of the bathroom was unlocked, a man was in there, leaning over the sink. From the elaborate back tattoo, it wasn’t hard to tell who it was.

“Hey Steve.”

He jumped up, swivelling around and sniffing hard.

“ Woah , [Y/n] hey! You made it.” You were so distracted by the white power around his nose, you forgot to tell him to get lost so you could piss. He noticed you leering and offered you the paper straw he must’ve stolen from Knoxville’s kitchen. “You want a bump?”

Oh, you so could. You really contemplated, wondering if you should go full rockstar and do a line with your good friend.

Then you remembered the sheer amount of alcohol in your system, and you figured if you were gonna snort coke you’d wanna do it without the influence of anything else. You weren’t planning on your heart stopping tonight. So you waved him off with a ‘nah, you enjoy yourself’. Steve-O shrugged, snorted the last of the coke, then gave you a one armed hug. Lots of hugs tonight. He made himself scarce after that, pupils the size of dimes, and you were left to piss in peace.

Were those Steve’s jeans in the bathtub? Huh, you didn’t even notice he was naked.

One bathroom trip later and you decided another drink was needed to refill the tank, so you stumbled down to the kitchen to grab a beer. Since Johnny was nowhere to be seen, you took that as your cue to explore a bit more, so you ventured out into the garden. More drink, more debauchery, more people jumping into the pool fully clothed. Near the bushes at the back of the garden, you saw a circle of people sat on the ground, plumes of smoke rising into the night sky. Your heart skipped a beat - you knew EXACTLY what that was. You had never willingly gone up to a group of random people so quick, but you were delighted to see it wasn’t just strangers. Taking a fat bong rip was none other than Chris Pontius, holding the smoke for as long as he could before exhaling, giggling like a little girl. He then passed it to the right of him, where Danger Ehren sat - you were kinda disappointed he wasn’t wearing his goofy ass helmet. When you got near enough, Chris finally noticed you and his face lit up like a kid on Christmas.

“ [Y/n], c’mere!” He called out, beckoning you with both hands. It was obvious he was a few hits deep, and man did you wish you were him right then. The guy on Chris’ left side shuffled over, making enough room for you to sit. Ehren waved to you when you sat down, trying not to choke on the bong smoke as he kept it in. Chris turned to you with the dopiest smile you’ve ever seen. “[Y/n], baby, d’you want a hit?” He offered. That was far more enticing than Steve-O’s offer.

“I’m so glad you asked, hand it over.”

Ehren passed it straight to you, and that first rip felt like bliss. You hadn’t smoked weed in two years at least, and you forgot how nice the immediate light-headedness was, your blood starting to feel airy as the smoke diffused. You blew it out through your nose, fiddling with the lighter in your hand.

“Someone looks happy.” Ehren commented, and Chris giggled as he poked your side, a boyish grin ever present. You passed back the bong to make its rounds, though your hand was filled by somebody’s blunt that you were all too happy to smoke. It felt like your lungs were filled with clouds, and whenever the smoke burned the back of your throat a little too much, you’d remedy it with your beer. Life never felt better.

After ten minutes of chain smoking, you were well and truly stoned. You slumped into Chris with a serene smile, letting the music at the party thread through your ears alongside his melodic voice. Ehren looked like he was about to pass out, and you wondered how high his pot tolerance was.

“Your hair’s so soft ..” Chris said dreamily, his fingers curling through your hair. You mewled like a cat, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck as his nails against your scalp felt heavenly. In return, you tangled your hand in his shoulder length locks - it was knotty, but he didn’t seem to care when you pulled at them. He just heaved a sigh and relaxed into you. “That feels in sane…. ” He mumbled, pressing his head into your palm. For a moment, you glanced down at Chris’ lap, and you weren't expecting to see Ehren totally knocked out and curled up in Chris’ folded legs. Without thinking, you slipped your flip phone out of your shoulder bag and snapped a picture.

“He looks so peaceful.” You commented, and Chris giggled.

“He’s like a l’il puppy. ”

The moment was interrupted when you heard the buzzing of an engine. Your eyebrows scrunched together, and you turned to face Chris directly, your noses practically touching.

“You hear that…?”

He squinted his eyes, concentrating on trying to separate the booming music and hundreds of people talking from any other background noise. His ears perked as he heard it.

“It sounds… like it’s coming from the hedge…?”

Well it turned out he was right, since just as you two turned back to scrutinise the green hedge, a motorbike came crashing through. The vehicle toppled over and threw the driver to the ground, the guy sat just behind getting catapulted into the grass ahead of him. The crowd of people whooped and cheered, like they’d seen the coolest shit ever, and to be honest it was pretty cool. Chris raised his eyebrows, barely responding to the crash he just witnessed.

“Huh, looks like Dunn’s bike.”

“Dunn has a motorbike?”

“Mhmm.”

You heaved yourself up from the ground and went over to the driver face down in the dirt. A head of dirty blonde curls indicated Ryan, but just to be sure, you kicked his ribs. He jolted and groaned, rolling onto his back.

“Hi Ryan.” You greeted. His eyes fluttered open, wincing as he moved to sit up.

“ Fuck … hey.”

“You drive a motorbike?”

The conversation was cut off by loud groaning mixed with raucous laughter. Whoever his passenger was is clearly a good trooper about being thrown off a motorbike. The man got on his hands and knees, buckling a bit as he clutched his ribs; you probably should’ve expected it to be Bam. He flicked his head up, dark hair slicked with sweat jumping away from his face, and you gave him a lazy wave.

“Hey Bam. Did you know Dunn drives a motorbike? ”

Bam started giggling, managing to stand up and limp over to you with his arm still wrapped around his ribs. He then wrapped his arm around your neck and leaned his weight on you, though your body felt heavy enough with all the pot; you damn near fell over.

“D’ya see that? That was fuckin brutal .” He laughed, swinging into your body like his ankles couldn't quite support his full weight. “Dunn you fucking asshole, you can’t drive for shit .”

“I’ve had like… a million beers.” Ryan lay there like a beached whale, covered in dirt and a few grazes. “I’d like to see you do better.”

“Yeah, fuckin’ whatever, I’m getting another drink.”

So Bam limped over to the kitchen, and your body dropped to the grass next to Ryan.

“You alright?” You asked, running your finger over the grass blades.

“Think my spine’s broken, but yeah, peachy.”

You pulled him up into a sitting position, and Ryan groaned like an old man, a cut on his forehead starting to ooze blood.

“I didn’t know you drove a motorbike.”

“It better fuckin’ be ok… love that thing.”

“You want a turn on the bong?”

“...Yeah, that sounds cool.”

You pulled him up with you, but before you could return to Chris and Ehren, Bam stuck his head around the glass sliding door.

“Dunn, [Y/n], get your asses in here, we’re doin’ body shots!”

“My body’s fucking broken.” Ryan complained, but you dragged him to the kitchen anyway, ready for more toxins to be put through your system. Bam got in the middle of you and Ryan to hang off both your necks, walking over to Johnny at the dinner table; to your delight, the absinthe bottle was already a quarter down. Johnny couldn’t stop giggling as he held up the bottle.

“Y’know what someone told me? This shit–” He motioned dramatically with the bottle. “--is hallucinogenic.”

“Bullshit.” Bam immediately shot down, but Johnny just shrugged.

“Only one way to find out.” Johnny rucked of his shirt and lay down on the table, seemingly volunteering for the body shot. He kicked his leg at Bam. “C’mon!”

But Bam wasn’t having it. “No way, I’m not drinking offa you .”

Blah blah blah, you were getting bored. You grabbed the bottle and twisted off the cap as you gave Bam a pointed look.

“Then why don’t you lie down. You’re already shirtless.”

Bam started to giggle, like he didn’t really know how to respond, but ended up lying on the table next to Johnny. You grinned and poured as much absinthe as you could into Johnny’s navel, the cold liquid dribbling over the sides of his body making him ‘ooh!’ giddily. You pulled out your phone one more time - snap! - before handing off the bottle to Ryan. He already knew the drill. Bam squirmed when the liquid hit his stomach, but it wasn’t on there for long as Ryan dived in pretty immediately, blood from his forehead wound smearing over Bam’s pale skin. With Ryan already getting to work, you felt rushed to get to it. So, you clutched either side of Johnny’s waist and leaned in. You could feel his muscles twitch under your fingers, and it was getting to be incredibly distracting. You glanced up at his face for just a second, to see him staring at you intensely, his deep brown eyes entirely concentrated on you. You stalled for a second, caught in the tension, but you found your courage with a smile, dipping your head down. Slowly, you dragged your tongue over Johnny’s navel, lapping up the bitter liquid. His laugh jumped in pitch at the ticklish sensation, earning an annoyed look from Bam. Bam sat up abruptly, picking up the absinthe bottle and shoving it at Ryan’s chest.

“Pour s’more shots, I wanna drink too.”

As Bam got off the table, you sent Johnny a look as if to ask ‘ did I do something wrong? ’, but the goofy way he wiggled eyebrows made you feel better. The four of you got another shot down the hatch - and another - until it was clear you were all past the point of no return. Bam started staring at you from the other side of the table, and you returned it with the same intensity. You weren’t entirely sure why you were staring at each other, but that seemed to be the thing you were doing now. Whatever, you won’t question it. For a moment his eyes were unfocused, but when his attention returned, a devious grin pulled at his cheeks as he reached for the absinthe bottle.

“I wan’ do body shots offa [Y/n].”

Ryan and Johnny started to laugh among themselves, while Bam stayed silent, grinning at you all the while. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Think I’m too pussy to let you?” You asked, speech slurring together, but it’s not like anyone else was speaking clearly. Bam shrugged, tilting the bottle near his lips.

“Maybeee.”

You’re not a pussy.

To his surprise, you perched on the edge of the table, kicking your legs as you hooked your thumb under your dress strap and flicked it off your shoulder. Bam seemed confused.

“ Wuh.. what’re you doin’?”

“‘M not wearing a shirt shitass . Gotta push the dress down...”

And that you did, yanking it down past your bra until your stomach was exposed. Once you were satisfied, you lay back on the table. At first, Bam simply stared, Johnny and Ryan starting to make excited noises. Ryan ‘ ooooooooh’ ed as Johnny playfully shoved Bam’s shoulder; “well go on, chicken shit.”

The cap came off, and cold liquid dripped into your navel. You squeaked and squirmed, spilling it everywhere - Bam had to hold you still, his cold metal rings against your skin sending a shiver up your spine. He seemed almost tentative , but he dipped down, placing his open mouth over the indent and messily slurping the booze. His tongue felt slimy , and when you glanced at his face you could see his pretty blue eyes fluttered shut serenely. You never noticed how pretty he was before, always too bothered by his antics, but like this he almost looked like a cherub. Eventually, he leaned away from you, allowing you the space to get your clothes back on. Even in your totally wrecked state, you floundered for what to do now, what to say after you bared it all to your three friends. Your gaze flicked over to the sliding door, and you suddenly remembered Chris Pontius, abandoned in the garden.

“I wan’ a smoke.”

So it was back outside to go find Chris and his pot circle. By the time the four of you returned, most of the circle had dissipated, leaving Chris to smoke alone as Ehren remained peacefully asleep in his lap. Chris looked up to gleefully say ‘hiiiiii’ [yes, like that] but Johnny was distracted by Ehren. The cogs in his head turned for a second, then he chuckled.

“Somebody get Dave.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Why?”

Johnny didn’t say anything, just grinned so hard his face hurt, and it clicked. You squealed, shoving Johnny’s arm but throwing yourself off balance and falling into his shoulder.

“ Noooooo! I don’t wanna see him shit on Ehren!”

Johnny started howling with laughter, throwing his arms around you as you continued to fuss, though he let you go to chase after Ryan when he tried to go fetch Dave, insisting it’ll be funny. All four of you ended up near the poolside, when everyone was interrupted by a dramatic yell.

“ Ladies ‘n gentlemen!”

Everyone in the garden started looking around, trying to figure out where the voice came from.

“On the roof, dipshits.”

In sync, everyone looked up to the roof of the kitchen extension to see none other than Steve-O, probably coked up out of his goddamn skull, toeing the roof's edge. The crowd hushed, murmuring amongst each other before he jumped . Gasps, then raucous applause when he dove into the pool and didn’t crack his head open on the deck. You grinned from ear to ear, cheering Steve-O’s name as you were all splashed by the water. The boys cheered too, until Bam abruptly shoved Ryan into the water. You gasped and feebly wacked Bam’s shoulder, so he pushed you in too.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

The sun started to peek over the horizon, rays of light shining through the windows and fanning over the countless empty bottles on the counter, reflecting beautifully onto the ruined walls.

The house was totally fucked.

Aside from the few blacked out strangers in random spots around the house, the last remaining guests were you guys, lounging in Johnny’s living room. Most of you fell asleep hours ago - Bam and Ryan were cuddled on the far couch and Steve-O curled up on the carpet under the window. Chris went to the bathroom some time around 4am and never returned, so it was fair to assume he was passed out on the toilet; Ehren was still out cold in the backyard, and god knows where Dave went. That left you and Johnny Knoxville, tangled together on the bigger couch. You knew you were nodding off, eyes barely staying open, but somehow through the haze of the come up, you remembered your ‘mission’. Clumsily, you patted around for your bag.

“What you lookin’ for…?” Johnny asked, looking as if he was already asleep. You hummed to yourself, finally finding the bag and struggling with the zip.

“Phone…"

It slipped from your hand at first, but you managed to grab the device and pull it out, flipping it open.

“What d’ya need a phone for?”

“Want your number.” You mumbled, pressing it into his palm. Johnny smiled, cracking an eye open so he could see what on earth he was doing.

“Y’mean you don’t have it already?”

“Nope.”

“Let’s take care o’ that.”

It took him a while - a lot of dialling then redialling, but he managed to get it right in the end [or at least he thought it was right]. He smacked the phone onto the nearby coffee table, then snuggled into the couch cushions, holding you closer to his chest.

“Thank youuuu…” You giggled, trailing off as your body gave up and you finally slipped out of consciousness.

Five down… mission complete.

#jackass fanfic #jackass x reader #johnny knoxville x reader #bam margera x reader #steve o x reader #chris pontius x reader #ryan dunn x reader #if you're gonna be dumb

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evanhuang14777 · 5 months

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My Cid Rodrigo Díaz you will hear what he said to him: Eat, count, of this bread; drink, count, of this wine, / for if you do what I say, you will no longer be a captive.

<El Lazarillo de Tormes> by Lázaro de Tormes

[The blind man] washed the breaks he had made with the pieces of the jar with wine, and, smiling, said: / –What do you think of Lazarus? What made you sick heals you and gives you health – and other gifts that were not to my taste.

<La Galatea> by Cervantes

Who is that powerful one who is known and famous from the East to the West ? Sometimes strong and brave, Other times weak and fearful; He removes and restores health, Shows and covers virtue in many, more than once, He is stronger in old age Than in joyful youth. [...] without weapons he defeats the armed one and it is inevitable that he defeats him and the one who has treated him the most, showing shame, is the most shameless. and it is a thing of wonder That, in the field and in the town, A captain of such a test, Any man dares Even if he loses in the fight.

«You can smell the fire, which is a very bad smell,

your mouth smells very bad, there is nothing that is worth it,

it burns the assaduras, the leg burns;

If you want to love, owner, the wine does not bother you.

«The drunken monkeys grow old, they

do not walk in their color, they dry out and turn gray,

they do many vile things, everyone hates them;

They miss God a lot and they fail the world.

«When wine is stronger than brains,

the drunks are gnawed like pigs and rooks;

therefore come deaths, strife and shuffles;

Much wine is good in vats and jars.

«Wine is very good in its very nature,

it has many benefits if taken in moderation;

He who drinks too much of it, take away his sanity,

all the evil in the world becomes all madness.

“Settle down, my children, there is plenty of room for everyone, thank God. They gave us so much of paradise when we go there. Put yourselves in order, each one has his own place; I, who am alone, will fit this jug and cup, which is no more my life than what I speak of.

After I got older, I don't know a better job at the table than pouring, because whoever tries honey always gets stuck with it. Well, at night, in winter, there is no such bed heater. With two jugs of these that I drink, when I want to go to bed, I don't feel cold all night. I cover all my clothes with this when Christmas comes; This warms my blood; This sustains me continuously in a being; This makes me always happy; This keeps me cool; I see plenty of this at home, that I will never fear the bad year, that a crust of mousy bread is enough for three days. This removes sadness from the heart more than gold or coral; This gives effort to the young man and strength to the old man; puts color to the colorless; courage to the coward; to the lazy diligence; comforts the brains; takes the cold out of the stomach; removes the stench of longing; it makes the cold powerful; makes one suffer the toils of farming; He makes the tired reapers sweat all bad water; heals the redness and the molars; sustains without stink in the sea, which water does not do.

I would tell you more properties about it that you all have hair. So I don't know who doesn't enjoy mentioning it. It has only one blemish, that what is good is worth a lot and what is bad is harmful. So, what heals the liver, makes the stock market sick. But even with my fatigue I look for the best for the little I drink, only a dozen times at each meal. "They won't let me go from there unless I'm invited like now."

<Don Quixote>Cervantes

Wine is mentioned up to 43 times in Don Quixote (1615), the most universal work of our literature. There are few characters more enthusiastic about wine in all of universal literature than the famous squire Sancho Panza, whom Miguel de Cervantes profiled not only as a great fan of wine but also as the possessor of a complete gift in the knowledge of it. “Won't it be good, Mr. Squire, if I have such a great and natural instinct when it comes to knowing wines that, when I try to smell any of them, I guess the country, the lineage, the flavor, and the hardness and twists it has to take.” , with all the circumstances that affect the wine”, Sancho comes to consider.

Another example, when Don Quixote charges against the windmills while Sancho walked "very slowly on his donkey, and from time to time he raised his boot with such pleasure that the most gifted still life artist in Malaga could envy him."

In Villalar and Pedrosa,

Bozales and San Román,

wine is no longer worth anything,

they give it almost for nothing;

Well, in Toro, where you were born,

I found, in the buns of the milestone,

a blessed red wine,

which in your life you dress like this.

In the city of Zamora,

on Valvorraz Street,

Blessed Our Lady,

there are so many taverns!

In Casaseca de Chanas

and Casaseca de Campián,

they give us so much wine

that we sing more than frogs.

In Corrales and Perdigón,

and in Fuen del Carnero,

even if the poor man carries a hide,

he will fill it without delay;

In Venialbo and at Fuente

Cantalapiedra and Cantalpino,

the people are very happy

because they drank a lot of wine.

Villarino and La Ribera

and the town of Fermosel,

a lot of wine, in a great way,

and softer than honey.

<'Anna Karenina'> by Leo Tolstoy

Kitty, observes Anna Karenina's first meeting with the man who would later become her lover. Tolstoy relates what the Russian princess Kitty saw at that meeting: He could see that Anna was intoxicated with the wine of ecstasy that she inspired. She knew that feeling, she knew its signs, and she saw them all in Anna—she saw the trembling, bright light in her eyes, the smile of happiness and excitement that involuntarily forms her lips, and the unmistakable elegance, security, and softness of her movements— .

<'Paris was a Party'> by Ernest Hemingway

The novel includes several memoirs by the author of the time he spent in Paris with other well-known American writers who lived there, where they met in cafes and bars to chat. At that time in Europe we considered wine something as normal and healthy as food, as well as a drink capable of bringing you happiness, well-being and pleasure. Drinking wine was not snobbery or a sign of sophistication or culture; It was something as natural as feeding and, for me, as necessary as that. It wouldn't have occurred to me to sit down to eat something without drinking, be it wine, cider or beer. I loved all wines, except sweet wines or those that were very heavy.

#poem and literature #literature #bar in movie and literature #presentation #index0

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brandonwayneb · 11 months

Text

Trust,

WorldWide

Rapture United States

Rapture England

"Sets" "and sausage bits"

Keep Rabbit Hat.

Flickr. KRR.

SS+ Anvil

Androgynous is plenty really.

Focus states..

I suggest Israeli & palestine

like nickname Samurai Ken & Barbie

Sadey.

Corey,

Torey,

Pagan,

May Zen

Zenith.

Zionist is the actual mention.

Field Vision, mention Zen Pre Tension

between keep international hellga

word plays Christ XMas

Just keep Nightmare Before Xmas

and Adams Family..

and keep making new presidents of new world orders,

such as the primary initials

Blood, Water, Equality Dragons.

Dino*

Dina*

Okay Dragon+

Zenith

Zionist

Nestle Quick Bunny..

"Zen" "Spa" "Très" "Zakouski"

Skin Factory, NONSTOP AURA REFLECTIONS

So... Reflections... reality bend.

Hindu Bendy Up Keep

Greek Rome Dragon Tower

Hercules Wedding Bells

Like Qupids flying as Bells

If you say Cupid, so a bell up..

I mean, a drop of blood,

is equal to Cupids & Castles.

So.. Rally Teammates..

At SarcaStic, the country, fallen in "business cutscenes biscuits"

"biscuits slander"

Reality ShiftS Rodger "Open Markets"

"Open Surgery"

Ger, Cupid

Ger, Quest

Ger, Oil Figure

Ger, Call alt ma zi

Zéniths

is just oden to the highest

Javelin is a spear

so they kinda swing these

Cupids & Castles

Galaxy Blood.

Calls to Lords and Lordoses

Quick ZIM.

BACK TWINS

ZIM AND ZIP

Shoulder spikes.. behind golds "2"

Cupids & Castles

Is like having a 100 💯 blood body 24/7 so... make aura.. drink red wine..

And become a living spear,

zenith also means sphere. like spherical shape.. A RAY GUN.

like.

Long as no one gets away with excuses to physical violence, based off their reluctance to surrender their conversations in psy.

Sion, beats Psy.

Sion, Mountain.

Avalanche ignorant lissssteners

just best to focus

cupids, castles, and vogue dragons.. and pick any new locations.

#allah

0 notes

gojoocy · 1 year

Text

How to Prevent a Hangover

A hangover is the state even the brigtest minds struggle with. It brings plenty of adverse physical and psychological effects that are difficult to deal with. From dizziness to headaches, nause, and sore throat, hangover comes with symptoms that make regret about the prior alchohol intake.

Luckily, there are ways to reduce or even completely eliminate hangover. In this post, let’s examine way to deal with hangover, and even prevent it. You will discover a rather unusual but extremely effective method in the end of the post, so stock with us here.

How to Stop a Hangover

Many people wonder how to feel less hangover effect after already waking up and being destroyed. Here are some tips to follow when you have enough time to recover after too much alcohol.

#1 Sleep It Off

Good night's sleep is a major part of living a healthy and happy life. Not only it gives you some time to be unconscious and not think about the immersing things you did the last night but it has something more to offer. First of all, it prevents you from feeling fatigued and migraines, but what's even more valuable for us is that during sleep your liver gets some extra time to break down the alcohol.

#2 Light Breakfast

Have you ever wondered why our body sweats a lot and the mouth is getting dry in the morning? Well, the thing is that late-night alcohol overuse causes blood sugar levels to fall down. Are there any ways to deal with it? Eat. Yes, we know it's hard to make yourself wanna cook something in the morning after a great party. Yet, you better do. A perfect meal would look like this:

Two or three eggs with whole wheat bread toast, a flank of fresh fruit, and a half of avocado. Also, you can add a cup of orange juice. These breakfasts contain all the nutrients required for the revitalization of your body.

#3 Sip Ginger Tea

The actual flavor of fresh ginger tea is negligibly peppery and sweet. It makes you feel fresh. Not only the flavor are among its benefits, but also ginger tea's properties. Ginger is full of vitamin C or ascorbic acid, the most efficient antioxidant nutrient in our body. It cleans up your body from the waste of alcohol, making you feel refreshed and energetic. Another major benefit to mention is its anti-inflammatory properties, significantly aiding the digestive system.

How to prevent a hangover before bed

The best way to prevent a hangover before you go to sleep is not to drink the night before. But well, if you are already here, it's not an option. Then there come alternative solutions:

Option 1. Drink an 8-ounce glass of Korean pear juice before going to bed. This ancient medicine assisted some test subjects in breaking down alcohol and lowering blood alcohol levels. One glass makes your morning-after sensations less severe.

Option 2. Drink wight drinks. Darker beverages, such as red wine, whiskey, or rum, contain more congeners than lighter beverages, such as white wine as darker your drink as worse will be your tomorrow.

Option 3. Book an IV drip for the morning. What's that? Joocy After Party IV drip is your ticket to a sober and healthy day (We mean if you live in Miami, Florida). The infusion is a mix of essential minerals and vitamins that will hydrate your body, boost energy, and maintain electrolyte balance. Nutrients start to circulate in your body after already 40 minutes of the procedure, making nausea, fatigue, headache, and dry mouth go away at the same time.

How to not feel hangover? Just go ahead and buy a bottle of white wine along with a gallon of pear juice, and book Joocy IV drip in advance. Think two steps ahead. Play it smart, and party hard.

Read more useful information in our Blog https://gojoocy.com/blog/

#health #iv therapy #hangover

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darkacademaniac · 4 years

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celestial glamour dark academia party: a mb series

#cos im planning my 21st #hell yea babey #imma throw a glamorous bacchanal #no one can stop me #only food i will be serving is asparagus and camembert #not to mention plenty blood red wine #but for real this will be the party theme #there will be decorations and food and symbols that are jokes only my DA friends will get #a right proper giggle this will be #PART 1

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lovely-oh-so-lovelyyui · 2 years

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Good Girls Grief 11

vampire hunter au- ayato's pov

Oh ayato hit the jackpot, he'd just won against laito in darts meaning laito had to do his chores that week when he noticed the taxi pulling into their compound

He supposes it's that time of the month again, he hoped the bride had ..nicer (bouncier) assets this time. Then again all his brothers were busy; after all reiji said he should mind his manners. He's sure the girl would love to have a bit of assistance in a new household from your's truly.

This year's sacrifice sounded delicate from her footsteps, he wanted to see if he could get a scare out of her. Finding a body without a heartbeat on the couch after all is not something most 17 year old mortals (especially naive, indoctrinated ones) dealt with well and there was the bonus of their blood tasting better in terror.

And did she smell good, it was like a great mix of reiji’s fancy bath oils and the sweets kanato baked but like turned into wine and he was most certainly taking dibs on this girl. She approached him hesitantly, as soon as she got close enough he could hear an intake of breath - so she liked what she saw huh?

"excuse me is this the sakamaki manor?"

Damn even her voice sent his spine tingling, she would be his

"pardon, but I can tell you're awake? You're eyes are fluttering?"

Now what utter bs was that, as the undead he had long excelled the art of playing dead whilst waiting for his prey. Ugh but if the scam was up it was up he supposes. Let's see who his new toy would be.

Oh.

She was gorgeous, the prettiest. She probably even put a couple of vampire women he'd been with to shame. In the dim light her features almost seemed like an illusion and he hoped on every star she was real. Not his usual type but her slender limbs, looked so delicate and she had curves in the right places and legs that went on for days. Such pretty legs, not a single mark on her as if it was all for him.

Her neck looked like it was carved from marble, her lightning fair locks hid her shoulders but it was obvious her skin flushed easy. And her hair looked so soft too, bouncy curls, he wanted to tug one just to see.

And if someone told him Venus herself took inspiration from her face he wouldn't be surprised. After all he grew up around Cordelia, and that woman flaunted all she had; this girl on the other hand was like a rose that hadn't blossomed. She had pretty ivory skin, you could see the blue tinges under her eyes but they only seemed to make her magenta eyes more captivating, high cheekbones and the rosy flush had settled there too all the way to her ears and the back of her neck. He wanted to see where else she blushed.

"Hello?" He focused back on her lips, they were a little chapped and bitten, but he could only imagine how soft they'd feel and how red and shiny they could become from a little guidance by him.

He wanted her.

"Aren't you noisy chichinashi? C'mere"

=========================

When she first saw the mansion she was skeptical afterall her father had never even even mentioned the Sakamaki's before and they only Sakamaki's she had heard of before were apparently they were vampire nobility.

Knocking on the door, it seemed the house was left open. How strange. However there were plenty of exits and knowing her father he did everything with reason.

It was dark, but she didn't feel anyone trying to ambush her, there was a lone figure on the couch.

Ah.

He was ... attractive, to say the least. A sculpted face and considering he wasn't even dressed properly he had a sculpted chest too from what she could see.

A boyish face, his lips naturally were in a crooked curl. He had strong features with a straight nose and a sharp jawline, an athlete perhaps gauging from his lean muscular build.

Surprisingly enough what she thought looked the prettiest was his hair, she never thought red could look so elegant. It wasn't a strawberry blonde or a ginger colour either. He had thick wavy russet hair that seemed messy but like he ran his hand through it a couple times and it still looked good.

How strange, sending her to a household like this didn't seem like her father, letting her go on missions was one thing; but residing in the same room with the opposite sex much less the same house would probably make him faint. He was probably just a guest or at least she hoped. His shaved undercut made her feel strange, she wanted to run her fingers through the short hair into the red curls.

The more she admired, it was more obvious he was in fact a vampire. The pale skin, always translucent around the ears, the unnatural sheen to his skin. Even stranger this probably wasn't the right house.

"Excuse me is this the sakamaki manor?"

Not a single reaction it seemed, this vampire was more mischievous. It suited his impish looks.

"Pardon? I do know you're awake your eyes are fluttering?"

How annoying he was one of the boys with beautifully long and curled eyelashes.

oh no, she really hoped she wouldn't have to live here with him. His elfin features shifted to reveal the brightest green eyes she'd ever seen twinkling, then almost suddenly his face became grave. She really hoped she hadn't annoyed him, out of all the vampires she had met she had if she had to kill him she'd regret it.

He was just staring at her, she hoped it was too dark to see her blush. How rude, he was just openly gawking at her now

"hello?"

His feline eyes wandered to her lips and the twinkle returned to his eyes as he licked his lips letting out a soft sigh.

However the pretty illusion was soon broken as he opened his moth

"aren't you noisy chichinashi? c'mere" reaching for her wrist. She had to move quick she didn't wanted to get off on the wrong foot but she didn't want to end up a blood bag either. Thrusting her forearm forward to block his jugular, he couldn't bite her if she didn't let his mouth near her. Now she just had to dodge his hand, regardless of how she blocked him a vampires strength was no joke. If he grabbed her it would get messy quick

"HELP? PLEASE LET GO!" hopefully if there was anyone close enough she could pacify the situation she didn't want to start fighting already.

"stop resisting! Ugh" he didn't seem to think she was being serious. How annoying

" Stop it, what are you doing ayato? Behaving like a hooligan to our guest?"

Oh no, she did not prepare for this. 2 vampires, tricky but she could probably injure them enough to run then again; this one seemed reasonable but she would have to keep her guard up. This could turn on her bad

also how dare he insult her, "chichinashi??"

"Stop skwaking it's obviously because you're a pancake." HOW DARE HE??

The second one seemed to have enough. "Ignore him, please follow me to the lounge. So we can sort out your business here"

#Spotify #diabolik lovers #diahell #anime #yui komori #anime / manga #reiji sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #diabolik lovers headcanon #vampire hunter au #diabolik lovers fanfiction

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doubleleoenergy · 3 years

Text

Cool for the Summer

Even if they judge, fuck it, I'll do the time. I just wanna have some fun with you.

Pairing: parentsbestfriend!Steve Rogers x fem!reader x parentsbestfriend!Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, use of pet names (princess), mommy kink, daddy kink, mentions of alcohol, y/n is 18, slight size kink, threesome.

Words: 2700 (I’m so sorry, I got carried away)

Summary: One pair of drunken kisses turned to much more. Now at the biggest pool party, y/n is ready for a hot girl summer.

Notes: This is my submission for @agentofbarnes‘s The Agency’s Writing Challenge. I chose to write for dadsbestfriends/momsbestfriend au, secret relationship, and Steve Rogers + Natasha Romanoff. This is the type of sandwich I’d love to be between. I apologize for being such a whore with this.

“Y/N, can you please grab the two bags of ice from the ice chest in the garage? We need to fill up the other coolers before we add the drinks.”

“Yes mom!” Y/N cried out to her mother, tossing a large flamingo floatie into their pool before heading towards the garage. It was their annual Summer pool party, the biggest party of the season for y/n’s parents. Her parents invited all their friends and family, including everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D.

Y/N’s mother and father were both agents with S.H.I.E.L.D. and had been working with the Avengers team closely for years. She remembered visiting the tower when she was nine, a picture of her visit still hanging proudly in her bedroom. It had been years since she personally went to visit, but many of the team members visited her parents often.

That included her super-secret lovers Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff.

It happened by complete chance last July. Her parents were on a mission for three weeks, leaving y/n alone to take care of their two dogs and to watch over the house. Of course, her parents were nervous to leave their eighteen-year-old daughter home alone for that long, asking many of their colleagues to stop in occasionally to check in on her. The Friday of their second week gone, y/n had gotten wine drunk, having snuck a bottle of her parents' expensive chardonnay from their wine cellar.

She was halfway through the bottle when they came, Steve and Natasha. They found her dancing to some pop song in the living room, her right hand holding up the bottle of wine to her lips. Steve and Natasha had grabbed the bottle from her hand, but not before she kissed them both; Steve first for a rough kiss and Nat last for a soft one.

Y/N didn’t remember anything the next day, but Steve and Nat showed up again to remind her. About 30 minutes after they had explained what happened the night before Y/N ended up with Nat’s head between her thighs and Steve’s cock in her mouth.

They had spent the next week before her parents came home together. Then afterwards, Steve and Nat told y/n that they had to keep what they had a secret, that no one would understand. They had all hung out a few times before y/n went off to college and then a few times during her college years when she was home on break.

The last time y/n saw Nat and Steve was during her Spring Break, two months ago, and she couldn’t wait to see them at the party. She had worn her skimpiest pink striped bikini for the occasion, ready to show off her hot-girl-summer body.

Y/N lifted one bag of ice on each shoulder, carrying it into the backyard and starting to fill the coolers while her father packed them with an assortment of beer, seltzers, soda, and water. “Honey, are you excited to see everyone now that you’re back from summer break?” Her father asked, wiping a few beads of sweat off his brow.

“Yeah, some more than others.” She muttered, shrugging her shoulders. After fixing up the coolers with her father, y/n helped her parents set out the snacks, decorate the backyard, and bring out the large speakers to play music.

It was already one o’clock when guests started to arrive, parking along their circle drive as well as up and down their street. Y/N was instructed by her father to wait by the back gate and greet the guests as they came in, giving each guest a cheap lei that her mom had ordered from Party City.

Guest after guest, dozens of lei’s later, she spotted them. Nat and Steve drove together, of course, and they looked as striking as always. Nat was dressed in a blood red string bikini top, her cutoff shorts hanging off her hips as she walked. Steve looked incredibly toned in a white t-shirt that clung to his muscles, a pair of red board shorts hugging his thighs to match Nat’s bikini top.

Y/N’s eyes met both their gazes, her figure standing up straighter to accentuate her breasts. Nat and Steve’s eyes trailed up and down her body, Steve’s cock stirring in his shorts.

“Aloha Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff.” She purred; her voice sickly sweet like candy.

“It’s nice to see you again, y/n.” Steve mentioned casually, a large grin spreading across his features. The pair bent forward to receive their lei’s, y/n’s fingers trailing a little longer on each of their neck’s, her nails sending shivers down their spines.

“There’s plenty of drinks and food, and the pool is perfectly chilled. I might take a dip myself.” Y/N gave them a seductive wink before gesturing them in the gate so that she could continue to greet the guests.

Two hours in and the pool party was raging. Y/N’s parents mingled about with the guests, hopping from group to group. As the party continued, Steve and Nat’s eyes followed y/n as she spoke with guests, handed out drinks, and refilled the snacks on the picnic table. They watched the way her ass bounced in her bikini bottoms, how her hips swayed to the music as she danced with a group of friends, and the way her body looked soaking wet as she stepped out of the pool.

She knew what she was doing, trying to rile them up so they’d crack during the party. There were so many guests, what were the chances of anyone even noticing them if they went missing for a while? Y/N needed Steve and Natasha, bad, and she was willing to do whatever it took to get them.

Her body was still dripping wet from the pool, her hair caressing her face. She sauntered across the backyard to one of the coolers, digging her nimble fingers under the ice until she found what she was looking for. Pulling off the wrapper she revealed a red, white, and blue bomb pop, how fitting. Y/N met Steve’s gaze, sashaying her hips back and forth as she stalked towards them.

“Hi Captain, enjoying the view?” She questioned, tilting her head to look up at him. He had about a foot or more on her, making her crane her neck to meet his ocean blue eyes.

“I know I have. What about you, Nat?” He tilted his head to the left, eyes landing on Natasha.

“Definitely. What’cha got there, pretty girl?”

“Just a bomb pop. It’s so hot out, I needed to cool off.” Her lips finally meet the popsicle, engulfing the tip and swirling her tongue around it, a devilish look flashing in her eyes. Natasha clenches her thighs together, thinking of how good it would feel to have the woman’s lips between them.

Y/N teases the popsicle against her lips, pushing it deeper until she gags lightly, her gaze locked with Steve’s own as she does. The same noise she usually made around his cock, he almost pushed her to her knees right then and there. She pulled the popsicle out of her mouth, a string of saliva connecting her lips to the tip.

“You sure you don’t want some?” That was the last straw for Natasha, pulling the stick out of y/n’s hands before tossing the popsicle into the grass beside them. Natasha leans in close, her breath tickling y/n’s ear.

“Go to your room and wait on the bed. Now.” She commanded, pulling away from y/n and changing her expression as to not draw any attention to the throuple. Y/N nodded her head, her own expression flashing with excitement as she moved across the lawn and headed inside her home.

Her bedroom was up on the second floor, away from all the chaos downstairs. Only a few of the guests lingered inside, walking in and out of the first-floor bathroom, some leaning against the kitchen counter in conversation.

Y/N slipped silently up the steps, tiptoeing to her bedroom and shutting the door behind her. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest, stealing a quick glance at herself in the mirror. Her hair was slightly wild from her dip in the pool, her body glistening with a mix of sweat and pool water. Y/N��walked over to the bed, her head resting against a pillow, her legs bent and open, waiting for her lovers to arrive.

Steve and Natasha made their way into the house ten minutes later, conversing politely with the few guests who still lingered inside, waiting until they walked out towards the rest of the attendees before making their way up the wooden staircase. Steve is the first to make it to the door, opening it and smiling at the sight of y/n splayed out before them.

“My my, princess. You sure know how to rile us both up. Couldn’t even behave until the end of the party you’re that desperate?” Steve tosses his shirt to the floor after Nat shuts and locks the door behind them, the redhead following suit as she started to undress as well.

“She just loves to tease, but she’ll pay for it now.” Nat stalked over to the bed, getting on her knees beside the edge and gesturing y/n with her fingers to join her. Steve stepped out of his board shorts last, his thick cock bouncing against his chest as he moved over to where Natasha was kneeling beside the bed, y/n getting on her knees beside her, still dressed in her bikini.

“Nat, baby, how about you help our princess undress while she keeps her mouth busy on my cock.” He commanded, stroking his length in his right hand. Natasha nodded her head, moving behind y/n and pulling at the string of her bikini top, letting it unravel and slide forward off her chest.

Steve stepped forward, his cock slapping gently against y/n’s cheek. “Go on princess.” Y/N swallows thickly, the size of his cock always surprising her, no matter how many times she saw it. Her hand reached up to stroke his length, her tongue swirling around the tip, eliciting a groan from Steve’s lips.

Natasha busied herself by reaching over y/n’s back to knead and pinch at her perky breasts, y/n’s eyes fluttering shut as she took Steve’s cock into her mouth, her hand moving down to fondle with his balls. She bobbed her head back and forth, grinding her still clothed core against her carpet.

“Aw Steve look, our princess is getting needy.” Nat took a fistful of y/n’s hair into her hand, ripping her off Steve’s cock and tilting her back to make eye contact with her. “You know what to do, a pretty princess like you has to ask for what she wants.”

Y/N whined, bucking her hips up to draw attention to her bikini bottoms. “Please mommy, please touch my pussy.”

Nat hummed in response, releasing her hand from y/n’s hair, pushing her in the direction towards Steve’s cock once again. Y/N wastes no time, opening her mouth and looking up at Steve, her long eyelashes batting coyly. “Daddy, will you fuck my mouth while mommy plays with my pussy?” She asked sweetly.

Steve almost came immediately from her statement, his thumb sweeping lovingly across her lips before his hand moved to grip at her hair, looping it around his hand to lock her in place before sliding her mouth forward and back onto his cock.

Steve started to fuck her face slowly while Natasha moved her hand down to undo the strings of y/n’s bottoms, pulling them out from underneath her before she tossed them across the room. Her hands caress y/n’s hips as Steve moves in and out of her mouth, faster this time. Y/N’s saliva dripped from her mouth and onto the carpet as Natasha snaked her hand down to y/n’s folds, her fingers immediately covered in her slick.

Nat dipped one of her perfectly manicured fingers into her heat, y/n humming around Steve’s cock in response. She continued to work her finger in and out before adding another finger, Natasha’s lips trailing wet kisses down her neck.

“So wet, princess. You want your daddy to fuck your tight cunt?” Nat purred, adding a third finger into her soaking hole. Y/N couldn’t answer, her mouth stuffed full of Steve’s cock, her nose touching his pelvic bone. He held her down, y/n sputtering as tears welled in her eyes, watching her face turn red before he pulled her off abruptly, her body collapsing back against Natasha’s.

Y/N gasped for air, her saliva dripping from her mouth down her chin and bare breasts. Natasha’s fingers sped up inside y/n, her orgasm building fast. “Mommy, may I cum please?” She mewled, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

“Yes princess, cum now. Daddy’s waiting to fuck you.” Her orgasm ripped through her, her walls tightening around Natasha’s fingers as she fucked her through the pleasure. Slowly, her breathing slowed down again, and Natasha removed her fingers from her core. Nat opened her pouty lips, licking y/n’s slick off her fingers happily. “You taste so good, our pretty girl. Now I want you to get on the bed on all fours for daddy.”

Y/N followed the instructions, crawling up onto the bed and getting on her hands and knees, arching her back and sticking up her plump ass. Steve’s hand was soft against her ass cheek, fondling it in his hand as he rubbed his cock against her folds with his other hand. He braced one hand against her back, sliding his cock in slowly, savoring the feeling of her tight cunt swallowing him.

“Always so tight, princess. The prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen. Isn’t that right, mommy?” Steve moved his cock slowly back out of her pussy before slamming in fast, causing y/n to fall forward as she cried out in pleasure.

“It is the prettiest.” Nat agreed, moving onto the bed until her thighs opened, her pussy on full display. She scooted her body until her thighs were on either side of y/n’s head, gripping her chin and pulling her head up to look at her. “Put that pretty mouth to use and make mommy cum.” She instructed, y/n’s tongue sticking out to lick a strip up to Natasha’s clit.

Natasha rested her weight on her elbows, watching y/n swirl her tongue around her clit, moaning at the sight. Steve continued to fuck into y/n, pushing her face deeper into Natasha’s pussy. His cock rocked fast into her, y/n humming with her face against Nat’s cunt.

“That’s it, princess. Let daddy fuck you into mommy’s pussy. You keep that up and you’re going to make me cum on your pretty tongue.” Natasha’s eyes met Steve. “You look so good daddy, so hot when you’re fucking our princess.”

Steve’s breathing was ragged, his hips slapping rapidly against y/n. “Cum on her tongue, mommy. Give our princess your sweet nectar.” Natasha bucked her pussy against her face, hitting her orgasm as y/n licked up all of Nat’s juices that flowed from her. Y/N continued to lap at Natasha, working her through her orgasm as she came on Steve’s cock, her walls clenching around him.

“Fuck, that’s it princess, make a mess on daddy’s cock. Gonna fill this pussy up princess, you deserve it for how happy you made mommy.” Steve thrust twice more before his hips stilled against her ass, groaning as he coated her walls with his cum. He stayed glued to her, pressing soft kisses to her spine as he relaxed his body, finally pulling out of her. His cock was wet with y/n’s cum, her pussy dripping their mixed cum onto the sheets.

“Did so good princess, let’s let mommy clean this up.” On cue, Natasha moved to take Steve’s place behind her, licking at her cunt to indulge in their mixed juices. Y/N’s body relaxed into the bed, letting Natasha clean her up.

Eventually, Natasha finished licking, pulling off to collapse next to y/n, her body spent as well from their escapades. Steve moved beside y/n, laying his head back against the pillow.

“My beautiful girls, I love you both so much. Best pool party I’ve ever attended.”

#agencyswritingchallenge #agentofbarnes #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff #marvel smut #marvel #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #natasha romanoff smut

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 2 years

Text

answers

Summary: Matt had lied to you about who he was. Maybe now it was time to get some answers.

Wordcount: Matt Murdock x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 1.2k

Rating: M

Warnings: Angst, lies, some cursing, mentions of blood, some kissing

A/N: Another @writer-wednesday and I loved the prompt/pic so much i wrote this in like 30 minutes lmao

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you closed your eyes with a sigh, your shoulders dropping as you heard his voice behind you.

“Where? Outside?” you asked slightly annoyed.

“Outside, on a roof at night in Hell's Kitchen,” he clarified and you scoffed.

“Why? Because it’s your territory? My apartment doesn’t have power so my landlord put me in here. There are plenty of roofs in this city. Choose another one.”

You were met with silence. Of course you were. That seemed to be his thing. Daredevil’s thing that is. Not that you had met the vigilante often. You had met him twice. Once when he saved your life not uttering more than a handful of words. And the second time when you wanted to surprise your boyfriend and found him dressed in the Daredevil suit almost bleeding to death on his kitchen floor.

That was almost two weeks ago. You hadn’t seen him since.

And he hadn’t tried to get in contact with you either.

You didn’t know what hurt more. Him lying to you, or him not even wanting to explain himself. You loved Matt. And you were pretty sure he loved you, even if he had not said those words yet. You had been dating for almost nine months. A typical meet cute. You, running into the blind guy standing in front of your flower shop as you were putting out the new flowers for the day.

He had asked what smelled so good. You had answered in your obviously flustered state that it must be him. You would never forget the smile he gave you in response. Matt had asked you out for dinner the next day and ever since then you were together.

You thought you knew all about him. The difficult childhood after his father died. The struggles to pay for his lawyer degree. The frustrations about not being able to help more people, even though Nelson & Murdock had been doing just fine with that.

You thought you knew him, but he had been lying to you the entire time.

Looking back you were so blind. You never questioned the bruises or new injuries on his body that seemed to show up frequently. He had only smiled at you before he kissed you to distract you from giving you an answer.

You should have known, yet who would think of Matt Murdock, attorney at law and blind being the fucking Devil of Hell’s kittchen? You questioned everything ever since. Why didn’t he tell you? Why didn’t he trust you enough to share this secret with you?

“When you showed up at the shop the day we met…” you began, “the day I met Matt Murdock,” you clarified, “was it a coincidence or were you looking for me?” you asked. You looked at the New York Skyline, your arms pulling your coat tighter around your body as you waited for his answer. Even though it was almost spring, the nights were still cold.

“I wanted to check in on you. You had a mild concussion…”

“How the hell did you know that?”

“I heard it.”

You turned around, finding him standing under the big red letters of the Empire Hotel you were staying at.

“You heard it?” you asked.

“I can hear things others can’t. It’s how I… see?” he said and you raised your eyebrows.

“Like right now I can hear that your heart is beating faster. But it’s different from why it usually beats faster when you see me. It’s more.. I don’t know. Angry? I can’t describe it, it’s just different. You’re sweating even though you’re cold. You had a glass of red wine for dinner ans some crackers and you changed your shampoo…”

“I used the hotel stuff…” you said quietly. “How do you know all that?” you asked.

“The accident… The chemicals did something to my other senses…”

“You can always do that?” you asked surprised. He nodded.

You took a deep breath, tilting your head up to look into the dark night sky.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whispered. “I thought… I thought there were no secrets between us. I trusted you Matt. I lo…”

“I was scared,” he interrupted you. He took a step closer to you. He sighed, running a hand over his black masks before he pulled it off his head, revealing his eyes to you.

“I never intended for anyone to find out. Not you, not Foggy… I do not want to put you in danger. The devil… he has enemies. Other enemies than Matt Murdock. And if anything would ever happen to you because those people want to get to me… If they find out there’s someone that I love… I…” he shook his head, his eyes dropping close as his hands ran frustrated through his hair.

You rolled your eyes.

“You’re such an idiot, Murdock. How long did you think you could hide this from us? Does Foggy know? Is that why you’re not talking?”

He nodded.

“And if your best friend reacted like that, the man who always has your back, did it maybe occur to you, that your girlfriend might be even more pissed? Do you have…” you closed your eyes, gulping once. “Do you have any idea what it was like to find you like that in your kitchen? I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead and..” you felt the tears in your eyes, your voice breaking.

“I thought you were dead. And all I could think about for the last few days is that you do not even care enough about me to explain yourself or talk to me about all of this.”

“That’s not it…” he started but you scoffed.

“I don’t know what’s going on in that brain of yours but maybe this is not working. You clearly don’t trust me…”

“I love you. I love you and it fucking scares me to think about me being the reason that something might happen to you,” he almost yelled and you closed your eyes.

“I might trip down the stairs and break my neck, you can’t stop things from happening to me.”

“I can stop some things from happening. Things that I’m the reason for. Please.. I…” he took a couple of steps towards you and you made no intention of backing away. Slowly his fingers run up your arm. You let your head fall against his shoulder as he pulled you against his chest.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he whispered against your ear and you put your arms around him.

“Never lie to me again,” you said quietly.

“Never,” he promised and you looked up at him. His eyes were by some miracle looking at your lips and you rolled your eyes, before you grabbed the collar of his black shirt and pressed your lips against his. He made a surprised sound before his arms pulled you even closer as he took over and kissed you passionately. Trying to communicate everything he couldn’t through this one kiss.

He rested his forehead against yours as he parted from your lips.

“I love you too, you idiot,” you mumbled annoyed but with a small smile. He gave you a small grin before he kissed you again.

All things Marvel Taglist:

@myguiltypleasures21 / @phoebe-danvers / @mrslizzyolsen / @xoxabs88xox

#writer wednesday #my fic #matt murdock #matt murdock x fem!reader #charlie cox #daredevil #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic

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littlefreya · 3 years

Text

Prince Of Darkness

Summary: There'll be no escape tonight, the devil always gets what he desires.

Pairing: Devil!August Walker x Unnamed OFC (3rd person pov)

Word count: 6k

Warnings: 18+, DARK! NonCon, kidnapping, stalking, breeding, exhibitionism, loss of virginity, supernatural stuff, sex in a cathedral, mention of heaven and hell. Please proceed with caution.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

A/N: I have put a lot of effort into this story, and I’m really anxious af. We all like to see August as a demon, but I decided to go all the way... And I’m nervous at your response and going to die after hitting submit. So bye.

Many thanks to the love of my life @agniavateira, for support, brainstorm and beta. And to @crimsonrae and @wondersofdreaming who held my hand.

Please give feedback and reblog if you enjoyed my work. 🖤

Title: Prince of Darkness

Blood painted the streets, courtesy of the blinding scarlet lights that danced upon gravel and tar before dwindling into darkness. The soft, beaming glow pulsed with the muffled beats of a monotonous song that played inside the luxurious nightclub. Like thundering war drums, it rumbled in the ears of the elegant man who stood along the shadows.

Leaning against the cement, he took a sip from a glass of spiced Bordeaux and brushed an index finger over his thick moustache to wipe away misguided droplets of wine.

‘How could anyone enjoy this abomination?’ He wondered with a guttural groan, never quite grasping this electronic noise thing; but then again August was older than this music, and his tastes far exceeded cheap and trivial antics. He was a man driven by the appetite for destruction and forbidden delights, and tonight, he was finally about to obtain both. After decades of anticipation, the succulent fruit was ready to be plucked.

Oh, what an intoxicating and delicious mist his unsuspecting beloved emanated, setting his heart aflame with her sheer ripeness.

‘It’s been so long, so painfully long.’

Time had lost its meaning as he waited, curving and swerving into a stream of an infinite river flowing with decay and death.

But as the old saying went: all haste comes from the devil.

So the man lingered against the wall, a sparkle enkindled and crackled in his eyes, morphing into black wells whilst the waves of her honey-liqueured ambrosia grew pungent, seeping through his airways and sinking in his throat. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, revelling in the sound of harsh tapping heels that echoed louder with every step until she came summoned into the naked wilderness of the city street.

‘Beautiful and innocent as the garden of Eden. Of course, of course...’

The stranger scrutinised the young woman with another sip from his wine and a bite of great intrigue - but stoicism and silence, for now, were his most valuable allies.

Clad in a lithe black dress and a stylish leather jacket to keep herself warm from the chill autumn breeze, she fished for the mobile device in her purse while distress washed her wrinkling brow. Illuminated by the bright screen, her face sulked as for the seventh time in the last 30 minutes, her attempt to find an Uber bore no success whatsoever.

Was there something about tonight that all drivers were kept occupied, or had her luck simply run dry?

Showing her face to the moonlit sky, she sighed in great frustration. This must have been fate’s retribution to a mindless bad decision; she should have left with her friends, but staying alone to fruitlessly catch the eye of the uncaring bartender seemed more significant as the buzz of alcohol dimmed any ray of logic. Now deep into the night, walking home alone didn’t appear to be the most sympathetic solution, yet it occurred to her that there wasn’t much of choice.

“You seem distressed.”

Equal to a dark chant sputtering words of witchcraft, the low yet incredibly soft baritone of his voice slithered from the corner and crept down her spine with icy scales. A lurching hollow flared within her gut, her neck seized by the tight grip of a serpentine phantom.

His vibrato sounded like a voice that called her through a dream she never had before; despite the unsettling arctic spasm gyrating through her shaky limbs, it lured her to return a stare and meet the cryptic face behind the seducing chant.

Two sharp glaciers glimmered at her as the stranger sauntered into the penumbra, momentarily lit by another flash of neon red that broke onto his face and highlighted his ethereal features. Her lips drew open, her nipples hardening against the fabric of her dress as a shiver ran through her. To say that the stranger was handsome would be an understatement, as it almost seemed as if he was ‘designed’ by a sculptor - carved cheeks led a path to slightly pouted lips, and a stark, dimpled chin was shadowed by dark stubble. His chocolate-brown hair was elegantly combed to the side, with a couple of large lustrous locks gently nestling over his brow.

Though it wasn’t his good looks that left her riddled with prickly goosebumps, but the unprecedented magnetic haul that made her feel as if she was physically drawn toward this mysterious man.

Frightened by the unbidden reaction of her own body, she quickly retreated to gawk at the phone and provided no answer to his inquiry. A strange yearning to submit grew between her clenching thighs, a primal response to his striking looks and charms.

But she killed the seed before it set roots in her flesh.

‘They said Ted Bundy was charming as well…’ she mused. Frivolous as she wanted to be, getting murdered was undoubtedly not among her plans tonight.

Revelling in her silent reply with an arched brow, he tilted his head when a blinding flicker abruptly caught his keen eye. Kissed by the pale moonlight’s beam, a small silver cross rested upon her collarbone. His sharp fangs begged to peek with sardonic amusement, but he kept his lips clamped, not wishing to scare her too soon.

There was to be plenty of that later...

“May I offer you my help, sweetling?”

Threading his long fingers between the smooth stem and clasping them around the bowl, he lowered the glass to the side of his hip, dragging the girl’s unwilling eye to the healthy bulge in his groin.

Her lips drew open as a surge of staggering heat flushed at her apex.

It seemed enormous...

“Name’s August, like the emperor, but you can call me whatever your heart desires...”

Embers burnt at her cheeks; in her belly, the odd mystical calling continued weaving at her core in an urge to accept whatever it was he had to offer. Her eyes warred to tear her gaze away from his nether region as her lashes fluttered to meet the abysmal glance that bestowed both frost and fire through her tendons.

There was something archaically familiar about this man as if she knew him before the days had names. Yet she swore, it was the first time she ever saw his striking face.

“I can take you wherever you need to go.”

Breath laced with wine titillated her nostrils as the words spilt from his lips, whilst another crimson ray broke upon the marble of his face. Never had he urged, but instead suggested with a tongue soaked with honey. Still, a blazing aura of danger encircled him. And even though the very natural fear of walking home alone grappled her, it still seemed like a much better plan than entrusting her life to a stranger who was twice her size.

Deciding to keep her tongue knotted, she turned and began striding away. ‘Best not to engage him,’ she thought, but once she moved past his bulky figure, her heart suddenly picked up its pace and her legs refused to function as if they no longer belonged to her.

Seconds stretched into eternity. The thought that this civilised savage will assail her and drag her into the night scratched at the back of her head. But the worst of it was the simmering throb. Unforgiving, like gathering storm clouds, it thundered the closer she walked by him and then gradually died out as she finally managed to move away and free herself from this invisible bond.

Savouring the final drop of wine, August watched amused as the frightened little lamb quickly oscillated on her feet, scampering into the horrors offered by the dark. It was funny how fear made animals act so heedlessly and rush straight into the burning heart of peril.

A toothy grin peaked his chiselled cheeks. Always the gentleman, he shifted from the concrete, discarding the glass carelessly to shatter on the sidewalk. His sinew stretched in a relaxed ripple of an apex predator before he straightened both vest and jacket and stroked his thick moustache.

Though her heavenly fragrance still soaked the air, the girl was already gone from normal eyesight. It was a pity to see her leave, yet there was no need for him to rush.

There was never really a choice for her.

Strangely, the night kept growing unnaturally darker. A great ocean of blackness and crystalised stars spread from above, casting looming shadows across the tall buildings that resembled a maw filled with rotten teeth. The tepid wind that blew between the vast concrete monoliths was nothing but the breath of a mythical beast intoning her name through the shadows.

Clawing at her forearms, she meandered through the inert street with a wary eye. Desolate neon signs flickered hauntingly, bequeathing a vibrant beacon of dread over the shimmering, onyx road. Not a living soul was in sight as if the world descended into stillness, dominated by an eerie, dead silence save for the harsh echo of her hasty heels. And yet, the long path felt anything but lifeless. With every step landed on the ground, she could sense the movement beneath the surface: swarming vile things, slippery and scaled. Unseen by the human eye, they hissed dirty little secrets and slithered with sinister hunger, drizzling down their fangs.

‘You can already feel me inside you, can’t you sweetling…’ Remaining hidden, he had to admit that watching the little lamb leap shivering into the slaughter has been somewhat of foreplay.

A veil of fumes emitted from her parted lips. The air became colder, summoning a terrifying truth that made her lungs clench around the black void that abruptly filled them with the notion that maybe... maybe… that chill, liquid-like thing that threatened to touch her ankle wasn’t just in her crazy imagination.

There was something out there, something undeniably familiar. This unusual gust of wind brushing at her nape has accompanied her since she could remember herself, an unsettling breeze bidding that evil lurked between the creases, holding its sinewy fingers clasped together while waiting for her to answer his hushed calling.

‘And once you finally answer, there is no turning back…’

Fear gnawed its frosty fangs at her bones, puncturing tiny painful cavities that were needles in her flesh. Tonight, of all nights, the same hazy feeling became stronger than ever before. Deep inside, she knew she would meet her end. Pressing the oily pads of her fingers at the sharp corners of her pendant, she inhaled and chanted a prayer, refusing to succumb to the noxious malice when a frozen pin pierced her heart.

Like the lark calling on the dawn, an unbidden chant carried her name.

Drenched with frigid sweat, she exhumed a shuddering breath, praying to God that it was only her imagination playing tricks on her ears.

‘The greatest trick he ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.’

Indeed in the darkness, leered the beast. All teeth and malicious glee, August moved from one shadow to another, feasting on the aphrodisiac that was the mixture of her harrowing terror and unveiled desire. If only she knew the trail her scent left for him to follow - he could smell her from miles away.

The little flower between her legs began blooming the moment their entities finally encountered one another, and it was his ancient name her dew had dripped for.

‘My sweet little thing, tonight I will finally grant you a purpose...’

Like a hound awakened from a deep slumber, he flexed his bulging muscles and tailed her in utter silence. The same spell that burnt in her core seethed the blood gathering in his ardent loins. Since the dawn of humankind, he had more women than any other man on this earth, yet none has evoked such hunger in him.

He would have eaten her alive and torn her to shreds if only he didn't have bigger plans for her.

Still hidden by the unnatural night, August stalked from behind, the blaze of his enkindling burn licking her path as he crept further to ensnare his prey. He wished she could see herself through his own flaring glance, how beautiful she was with tears of despair rolling down the tender slope of her cheeks.

His beloved girl; his, by ancient law. Spirited as a rageful tempest, she insisted on escaping her prophesied fate. Muscles and bones strove against the panic that turned her boiling blood frigid. But no power, physical nor divine could revoke this otherworldly attraction that bound her to him. His bidding could never be undone and as much as his blood relished from the thrill of the chase, it was time to put an end to this dance and seal their union.

Appearing from a stygian haze of a spectral nightmare, the beast drew his claw to grasp the fleeting girl’s shoulder.

The world froze along with the scream that died in her throat. Cold, slippery wet, the phantom serpents slinked around her ankles and held on to the ground as the thing behind her bit his nails into her collarbone. His touch was no ghost, but as real as the quiet moon that voyeured her fate from above and did nothing. A wretched gasp of anguish shuddered through her airways as his fingers stalked forth to cinch at her neck.

His grip was tighter than the icy finger of death, yet its caress was the sensual lick of a gossamer tongue.

It was almost as if he worshipped her.

Shadows befell her as the assailant leaned close, wafting a mist of intoxicating fumes scented of poisonous elixirs and an ancient forest that laid deep between the veils of the underworld, hiding forbidden mysteries that none dared speak of. Seeping through her orifices, it stung her eyes and raked remorseful tears.

“Please…” she broke into sobs, shaking her head at the dawning of her fate.

The man inhaled deeply. Though she could not see him, the joyful malice that danced on his pleased breath roared in her ears.

“Do not fear me.” The sonorous rumble caressing her ear was hardly a surprise in its familiarity. It was him, the handsome bewhiskered gentleman from earlier. But of course, it was always him: the whisper in the dark, the slithering things moving beneath the tepid ground, and the smell of burning pyres.

But who the hell was he?!

As if he read her mind, his hand twisted around her nape and with a careful sway, turned her to face him. The voice inside her head warned her over and over again not to look at him; yet the temptation was too great, peeling her eyes open to stare at the thing that made her heart drop to her gut.

Vast, raven wings spread from each side of an Adonis figure, their intimidating length denying her widened eyes to look at anything but the dark god that soared tall in front her. No, not a god, a devil. A pair of small golden horns peeked from the mane of long curls, and the heavenly icy gaze she remembered from earlier had melted into an abysmal lake of fire.

He was beautiful.

He was monstrous.

And just like that, she descended from the earth, swept into a thick swamp of darkness that swallowed her whole. Never letting so much as her feet kiss the ground, August scooped her into his strong arms. Peering down upon her, he broke into a delightful grin, already enamoured with his delicate new bride. The pang of lust tingled in his groin, though despite the raging need to claim her now, it was her screams he desired more than all as he would consummate their eternal marriage.

Wicked tongues of fire licked up the shallow air, casting a faint amber glow into the abominable sombre of a vanishing nightmare. Shy as feral nymphs, the bursting sparks ascended melancholily, whispering tales of perishing days that fell to harmony with a strange mumbling chant. Still locked in a void of unconsciousness, the fallen girl shifted with disquiet, her hands restlessly clutching at a virginal silk gown that covered her body.

Vaguely remembering a horrifying dream of a demonic entity, she woke with a sudden electric jitter. A peal of breathless pants pushed through her heaving chest before she slumped into the intense relief one experiences from a brush with either death or a ghastly fantasy.

“Thank God…” she whispered with a fist pressed to her breast.

Yet, something was amiss. The low vocal melody continued despite her state of clarity, tangled with the eerie presence of a hundred cutting glares that stabbed her crawling spine. Slowly and carefully, she lifted her head and scanned her surroundings.

The blood drained from her face.

Swaying like shadowy wraiths stood men cloaked in black velvet hoods. Tears of milky boiling wax trickled from the candles held by their stringy fingers, yet they didn’t seem to flinch as the burning rivulets seared their flesh. Their hollow eyes were fixated upon her while words of a dark sacrament sputtered from their lips and reverberated through the endless archways and ribbed vaults that towered above them.

Her trembling muscles were briskly stifled under the unsettling realisation of her whereabouts - a cathedral, a thousand years old if not more. Burning torches lit crumbling pillars and statues of monstrous winged creatures that encircled them from every niche, their malicious shadows dancing upon dusty obsidian bricks. Unglazed windows were barred by black iron, the beautiful floral shapes preventing any means of escape.

Only the fractured ceiling held a cheap shred of hope, as a vast rupture of broken stone exposed her to the scarred carmine wolf-moon.

If only she had wings…

Bones rattling beneath her crawling flesh, she sat upon the hard surface with wells of despair. Her hands clutched around the edge of the bed, only to be kissed by the sharp corners that pierced the delicate flesh. Hissing with pain, she lifted her arms and stared below at what appeared to be a midnight-black marble creased with golden veins and saplings-like patterns.

It was beautiful, just like the creamy gown that covered her body.

“Do you like it, bride?”

Rising from the crowd like a flame among charred coals, appeared her handsome abductor. Suitable to a true evil prince, a long red cloak enrobed his broad, sturdy form, the velvet hem trailing behind him like a thick river of blood while he marched forward with no haste in his dauntless mien. Human once again, August offered the most endearing grin; two profound dimples embellished his scruffy cheeks, and his eyes shone brighter than a frozen sea.

Yet in her sullen gaze, he was nothing but a monster.

Abruptly enraged and driven by pure instinct, she jumped off the marble and paced backwards. Tears of anger and fright rimmed her swollen lids and her bare feet nearly collided as she shook her head at August who was neither impressed nor concerned by this foolish protest.

“You stay the fuck away from me!!!” She warned with a scream and hastily turned away.

Lost in some trance, the praying mob never stirred, granting the girl a fair chance to escape the bewhiskered man who was still several strides away. Her feeble legs made three to four steps when her muscles swiftly turned to stone, and her stomach lurched.

‘No! It couldn’t be! How?!’

Curls shining like precious coils of onyx, August emerged in front of her, continuing his relaxed gait as if this was a natural occurrence. His bright icicles melted into malicious dark pools of twisted desire, and his tongue briefly laved his plump lips at the sight of pure disbelief that cascaded over her face. He could feel right under her skin, hear the thrumming heart that both chilled and fumed for him. Further beyond her thoughts, his betrothed yearned to be defiled and torn open by him.

It was her destiny, whether she liked it or not.

Still she fought, so ferocious and defiant, flinching away from his attempts to seize her. It was almost comical to watch her deny him, knowing that her fate would be no different; she will spread her legs and submit to his conquest. And yet, her battle was immensely appealing; what better bride to the dark lord than a woman who breathed fire.

“Who are you?!” She cried, her trembling voice rising with panic and her cheeks soaking with tears, “What do you want from me?!”

August's face was devoid of mercy, her whimpering hisses did nothing to deter him and only further increased the appetite of the deprived wolf that circled in his gut. With a wring of his wrist, his fingers snapped at her elbow, hauling her against his rock-hard chest with such might her heels hovered above the ground.

Writhing in his grip she flung her hands at his face, clawing streams of crimson to trickle down his cheeks. The notion of hurting this vicious man brought somewhat of a sick joy; but her onslaught died at once, and her mouth fell agape as his skin healed with not even a trace of injury.

“Oh God, what are you?!” She shuddered.

Still holding her elbow hostage, his free hand travelled to the hem of the white gown, the long, perverted fingers twisting around the fabric before yanking it off at once. A resounding rip echoed through the tall arches, causing the chanting choir to halt their susurrations at once.

All eyes were afloat as the cold air kissed her skin. In vain, she attempted to cover herself only to be felled by the restraints of August’s grasp.

“God?...” The man finally spoke, his melodic voice ending with a sonorous hum that sprouted through her arteries like a deadly toxin. Not less poisonous, his gaze trailed down her form, worshipping the very sights of his delightful prize.

“Not God, but once I was an angel,” he suggested and leaned down to inhale her skin with a gratified growl before he flicked his wide tongue at her chest.

A groan of approval emitted from his lips, the sheer coat of sweat that layered her bosom was soaked of freshly brewed fear, his most favourite savour. His wet, velvety snake swept the sweet-briny wetness and licked further down her breasts, twirling around the erect nipple.

Unintended, she moaned. A river of delights rushed between her grinding thighs.

“No!”

Wrongful, unwanted bliss awoke in her. She felt desecrated and allured at once. Her fickle body deceived, mistaking this vile conquest as consensual. And the more August took, the more she desired; her dutiful womb demanded to consummate this bond, almost as if the beast had bewitched her a long while ago, embedding his essence in the marrow of her bones.

August grinned against her skin, the scent of her arousal fresh in his nose while his lips travelled to kiss down her sternum and the slope of her torso. His thick whiskers left a trail of fluttering butterflies.

“Have sympathy, my love. I had built my own realm and waited in the forlorn abyss. Empires fell and worlds disintegrated into ashes while I waited for thou,” he explained and clutched the cheek of her behind in his claw, squeezing it possessively. “I have longed for your touch since the day your ancestor promised you to me, little lamb. A hundred years’ worth of waiting for the bargain to reach its end, and for you to finally be ripe.”

The beast pressed one last languid kiss below her navel, a guttural hum exuded in between his lips, huffing hot against her belly. Slowly he rose to his full height, towering above his helpless victim who hugged her arms to cover her naked body and watched her nightmare unfold once more. Cold wind chilled her damp cheeks as August flung the blood-red cloak and exposed his naked figure before her.

He was massive, a masculine build fit for a warrior angel, covered with thick bulging muscles and dark hair. Lips parted, she forgot herself, gawking in awe and allowing her gaze to trail down to his unapologetically monstrous cock. Firm and throbbing, it dripped with hunger, urging to find release inside her clenching cavern.

She didn’t even know a man could be this vast, but alas, he was no man at all.

It was at that moment when blackest wings spread before her that realisation finally struck through like a blunt hammer to the back of her head. Covering her mouth she cowered away, her exposed back hitting the raised altar behind her.

August was no man nor god, but Lucifer himself.

Seeing the hope die in her eyes, the devil sneered.

“No, no, no! This can’t be real! This isn’t real!!!” She yelled, pathetic little hiccups sputtering from her lips.

August tilted his head, giving a scornful pout and scoffed with amusement. “Am I not?” He asked as he lifted an arm to flick his fingers, summoning two of the hooded servants to approach the dais. Their eyes were soulless gems embedded to a grey face that was cracked like a broken eggshell.

“I am real, beloved, as real as the child you will conceive me tonight.”

Shrills of terror flew through the great hole in the ceiling. Kicking and screaming, she fought as the men seized her arms and dragged her to the altar, forcing her flat down and holding her arms to prevent her from escaping. They never blinked at the ferocious war she waged against them, though an impish smile slowly possessed their faces as their master strode forward.

“Sweet little lamb,” August chanted, enamoured with his fiery bride while he sauntered by the edge of the altar. His Adonis body golden in the candlelight, his fingers squeezed and pumped the ravenous demon that hung heavy between his legs. The twinge in her womb rose in response, a low roar thrumming as it yearned to succumb to its unbridled purpose. Sheen, the arousal trickled between her kicking legs and onto the smooth stone, making her cheek flame.

Much to August’s pleasure.

“Our son will burn this world to cinders,” he promised and snaked his fingers at her ankles. Calmly deflecting her attempts to kick against him, he dragged her toward him until her knees folded over the edge and spread between his thighs. The platform was in the perfect height, positioning her delicious Eden at the height of his blessed demon.

“You will make an excellent mother.”

Her entire body shook, her cunt clenching along her sobs in both defence and beguiling need as August leaned in and grazed the silky pink crown between her wet petals. She begged he wouldn’t be able to invade her, but her prayers fell to deaf ears.

“Please don’t do this to me! I will do anything… please!” She wailed a bargain, still trying to escape the servants’ grip and looking at him pleadingly, “I… I...haven’t been with a man!”

“Oh I know…” August beamed and stroked himself back and forth between her engorged lips. Vamping flames tingled at her flesh, her core foolishly squeezing around nothing in demand for this wretched monster to defile her.

“You’ve kept yourself for me, didn't you? I have waited for you too, for centuries even, but now our waiting has ended, and I can finally love you.”

With one brutal thrust, he breached through the gates of her sacred haven, corrupting her purity and ripping her open with the elegance of a savage.

Exasperated bats fluttered their wings over the red moon at the sound of her pained howl. Eyes flared to the bleak sky above; the girl watched them in a daze, disbelieving the blazing demon that scorched her from inside as he nestled himself between her resisting gates with no intention to cease.

In his villainy, August pushed further. Stunned thunders of ecstasy erupted from his lips, all to humiliate her along with the dark minions who circled the altar to pervertedly witness this sacrilegious ritual in which their master ravaged the unwilling maiden. Ignoring her body’s vehement protest, he forced himself unfathomably deep, only stopping until the head of his cock kissed the gateway of her cervix.

Crystalised tears rolled down her temples and stained the cold marble beneath her body. Slit impossibly sore, she twitched and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling of being invaded by another entity. Her once protected realm was now under the domain of a ruthless prince, and he took no prisoners and granted no mercy nor care at her vain endeavours to push him out.

He would never stop. He would have her again and again until her sacred little womb would be plentiful with his seed.

“Tight,” he blurted out in a blissful huff and reached his talons to bite into her quaking thighs. Spreading her wider, he hooked his hands below her knees, moulding her into a vessel to be fulfilled. Arctic orbs glazed down her naked figure, his plump lips cooing at her aching whimpers. The taut and hairy muscles of his gut flexed as he carefully withdrew his vicious cock, coated in the crimson sorrow of her maidenhood.

Hollow pain throbbed in her empty cunt as he suddenly abandoned her. Distressed and overwhelmed, she hoped he would stay out, yet her traitorous body coveted his return in a false faith that it would ease the fervid twinge that soared to her belly and even burnt in her breasts.

It was far from true.

No less vigorous than before, August plunged back inside her, stretching her again, shaping her as his own as she yipped and struggled to escape. His head threw back with a roar of divine pleasure, feasting at the thrill of her dauntless veils wrapping around him like a succulent flower. For a moment there, he wondered who preyed on who. Her concupiscent little cove sucked him so wantonly it threatened to swallow his raging cock.

‘But of course, every virgin is destined to become my whore.’

Hot and heavy, his shaft seized the void that had always been inside her, their heaving organs collided in euphoric bliss like two broken shards that were lost for decades and finally pieced back together. And even though she seared with every jerk or shift he made, the impassioned flames licked at the seams of her twitching cunt in waves of ache and foreign desperation.

“No…” she whispered, shame singeing her throat as the little pesky sparks enkindled where the devil had violated her. Vision blurry, she gazed at him utterly mystified. Part of her warred to stoke the fire that screamed heresy, while the other begged to yield to her demise.

As August pulled away again and thrust harder, a breathless moan tore from her lips.

A cutting grin radiated onto his face. “It feels so good inside you,” he sang and slid one hand to stroke all the way down from her sweat-ridden thighs to her belly, feeling the movement of his cock with every push and shove.

He was taunting her, yet she couldn’t care less. Over the cinders of pain and virtue, a garden began to bloom. With every abysmal stroke of his swelling shaft, she could feel green saplings and coy vines growing within her uterus—soft, beautiful tendrils stalked through her arteries, sprouted through her cove, and engulfed his swelling demon as well.

She was no longer burning but becoming alive. Pained cries suddenly evolved into asphyxiation of bliss. Beyond her realisation, she undulated her hips in the desire to endure each of his wet claiming thrusts. Her spine coiled against the surface, further allowing him easier passage to nourish the wilderness that continued spreading through her blood.

Noticing the change in her, approving groans rumbled in his throat; his little bride was growing tighter around his demon, her quivering lips and fluttering lashes the image of true Elysium. It was not long before he would plant his seed in her fertile lush. Her cunt milked and suckled around him, demanding to be bred by the devil.

“Yes, my love! Give in to me! Give in to your primal sin!” August urged, enhancing the rhythm until he was thrusting into her like a battering ram, the sinful elixir of their union smearing on his groin and dripping down her rump. “Descend with me!”

In her delirium she witnessed magical nightshades and sinewy stalks growing amidst the gritty bricks, encompassing the ominous cathedral with bright colours.

It was paradise on earth, given to her by the unearthly rapturous joy of having this demon violate her, slamming harder with growing frustration until his thick girth ripped through the last threads of her self-preservation and that which she tried so hard to deny erupted through her clenching core.

Euphoria.

For a lingering moment, she had wings of her own, pale as precious pearls and lustrous stars. Tingling waves of ethereal white heat burst at her seams, purifying her as she flew above the cathedral, and watched their ungodly union from above. But her wings suddenly caught aflame and before she knew it, she crashed onto the earth with a secondary, more violent climax.

The beast’s roars erupted into a brutal thunder, causing the sturdy pillars of the cathedral to quake and crack like thin glass. With all his might, he clutched her thighs and hauled her against him, slamming his swollen cock deep into her belly and releasing his smouldering, milky essence until it seeped from her sleek. August’s wings flew open as he found his own rapture, blazes following through and consuming the ancient hall.

This was no longer a hallucination.

This was Inferno.

Still radiating with orgasmic glow, she screamed horrified as everything around them vehemently burnt to coals. Even the soulless servants crumbled into dust, accepting their fate without so much of a yip. The fire raged and died within seconds, leaving nothing but broken pillars and ashen smoke.

Shortly, the tepid air of night caressed her naked skin as they remained alone in the ruins of what was once an ominous cathedral. Still buried in her viscera, August broke into a low, stretching groan of relief which made her immediately return her eyes to him. Shame rose bitter in her throat and new fresh rivulets trickled on her cheeks.

After all that he had done to her, she could see nothing in him but a beautiful monster.

“My beloved queen,” August keened to comfort her and moved his hand to tenderly stroke her lower belly.

A toothy smile broke upon his face, his eyes gleaming with surprise as he felt the life that had already begun growing in her angelic fortress. A son, strong and glorious as his father. For the first time in his long existence, the devil was truly elated and he vowed in that moment that he would give her much, and much more. But first, she needed to be cared for.

Her assaulted hole convulsed with pain as he pulled himself out, leaving a trail of creamy fluids to dribble at his departure. Sniffling and shaking, she watched him bemused, as he climbed onto the altar and moved to lie beside her. Though she no longer flinched as he touched her, what was the point of it anyway? He had already destroyed her and stolen her innocent soul.

“You make me so happy, my beloved queen,” August had murmured as he gripped her jaw and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss claimed her breath, pillaging whatever left of her chastity and wit until she absentmindedly kissed back, forgetting herself as his tongue bested her will.

When he broke away, the taste of spiced ruby wine and blood lingered in her mouth.

“An eternity awaits us,” the devil explained as he pecked her nose and her forehead lovingly, to which she shivered - out of fright or out of want, she couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

“You had made me the happiest, now give me the chance to grant the same favour, ask for anything you want in the world and it shall be yours,” he begged and wrapped her in the shelter of his strong arms to lie down with him on the smooth stone surface.

Absentmindedly, she welcomed the protection offered from his embrace and stared silently as flakes of cement broke from the remnants of the wall floated in the air around her before she opened her mouth.

“I wish for…”

Her whisper faded into the dark.

*Disclaimer: I do not own Mission Impossible or August Walker

Beautiful dividers by @firefly-graphics

#henry cavill #august walker #henry cavill fanfiction #august walker x ofc

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