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peachesancreams · 2 days

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Expanding on the Wives

everyones favorite asexual serial killer and his cute wifey! this one is marked mature as it is his serial killing days. I will be going into all their deaths on the third part so stay tuned~

Alastors wife

Okay so I said Al doesn’t remember how they first met and he doesn’t mainly because I personally headcanon that he has a lot of trauma in accordance with that time. Mainly at the hands of his father, which more then likely is one of the core manifestations of his future MO for being a serial killer, being that he killed ‘bad people’ and never outright leaned toward killing women. Do I think he did? Yeah someone had to have seen something at one point and Alastor isn’t one for lose ends. (I’m sorry guys you’re gonna see a lot of me info dumping, serial killers psyche and the types are a special interest of mine)

They meet when they were kids, him just running around New Orleans learning the streets and how to use the alleys to make a quick getaway. It had helped him more then on one occasion growing up in that day and age, more so when people knew of his parentage. Not that he was ashamed but rather no one Likes Pain much less children, and unfortunately other children will do as they see their parents do. Rosalind had been reading on the steps on the library when he had ran into her. It wasn’t any kind of meet cute considering they got into a argument about who’s fault it was, kids am I right?

They kiddos had decided that they both were ultimately at fault, him for running when Mama said not to rush and Rose for sitting on the steps where people walk. They’d shook on it and had spent the day talking about some radio stories, Alastor eventually telling her about his dream of being a host himself.

They meet up regularly and talked about the many things kids find important. Until Rosalind’s Pa died and her mother had to move them back up north. The saddest part was it all happened so rapidly, Rosalind hadn’t had time to find Alastor to tell him. Her mother kept Rosalind close to her through out the process of the funeral and the move, having heard of the company her daughters been keeping but also to grieve with her daughter.

Thus she moved away and Alastor slowly forgot the face of his friend. He remembers having a dear childhood friend but figured they, like everyone else heard of his heritage and left him.

Meanwhile up north Rosalind was dreaming of going back to the south. She thanked her lucky stars her fathers family lived down in Louisiana still, she sent letters often down to her cousins asking about life and how is dear New Orleans changing?

When she was 18 Rosalind decided to make the choice to move down south. Her mother had gotten a urgent letter from her aunt raving about how her cousins were living in sin and needed a good girl like Rosalind to guide them. Of course this was only partly the case, their cousins mother had actually passed in the fall and one them impersonated her as to fool Rosalind's mother.

They made this plan as to get Rosalind out from her mothers thumb, wanting her to stay close and up north together. It was not that Rosalind didn't love her mother she just didn't want to be smothered by her anymore.

Now for the second and remembered meeting!!

Once secure in the South her cousins had decided to celebrate! What better way to celebrate gaining independence in the 20's then going to Mimzy's club! Bonus her cousins worked there as showgirls(have to make money somehow...) so they were familiar with the atmosphere.

It had been fun, they drank and danced some. It was only when her cousins had been swept onto the dance floor by two different gentlemen that Rosalind finally felt conflicted. Truth be told she had been having mixed feelings all night, but now alone with the gazing of hungry men feasting on her flesh.

Heading to the bar she ordered herself a drink, trying to call the bartenders attention. It was when a smooth voice called above her head that the bartender finally looked over.

"John my good man! My usual drink for me, and one for the lady as well."

Now at this time Al has been establishing himself in his career for a while, I imagine at this time he had actually just scored his first segment. It was some news on event in town and weather reports, he still has a small way to go till he can report on what he really wants. The Local Crime segments, the man who does it now Tyler put people to sleep the way he drones.

He had come to Mimzy's tonight to stalk his next hunt. His radio career wasn't the only one he had been curating and growing with time. He started his murder career with a truly vile man, his father. No one thought much of the hunting accident, his father was a drunk and many had the opinion it had been bound to happen. Filled eith righteous fury, he went after only villainous people. Muggers, rapists, a fellow murderer, and well an unfortunate witness.

Alastor had been eyeing this particular prey for a while, a rapist who preyed on woman. Alastor had watched his prey pick out his own prey for the evening, watched him circle like a vulture. He took notice of the woman, a soft smile on her face but discomfort colored her brows. It stirred something in him, a flash of his mothers face making his grin feel strained.

Alastor doesn't know why and could only put it to words after when he was in Hell. He interrupted his preys hunt to intercept the woman, buying her a drink. The conversation was stimulating, and having her not fawn over him was a nice change. Despite his small role in the station his popularity grows by the day. What can he say, he has a voice made for radio!

They hit it off from there, him quietly offing his prey another night. No need for vermin like him to linger around. After all Ms. Rosalind frequently met him at Mimzy's so there no reason not to keep the place...tidy so to speak.

Rosalind felt like she was in a fairytale, not only was she able to get a job as a poster painter(lots of prints were handmade back then!) but Alastor, a radio host with a career on the rise, seemed to fancy her.

She didn't realize who Alastor was until they'd gotten married, saw a picture of him and his mom he kept in the back of a bible. She also realized he didn't remember her, it made her a little sad but she remembered the bruises he would show up with and forgave him in her heart.

Speaking of, they were only together for like a month before getting married. And the proposal was at his house! He made dinner and lit candles, and made sure to be his most charming.

Rosalind could only say yes to her dear sweet Al. The thing that had gotten people talking is that she hadn't gone home that night. Alastor was never huge on touch but always seemed to gravitate towards her space. That night they'd cuddled on the couch, exchanging small kisses until they'd fallen asleep.

It’s had started the rumor mill but what made it a full function factory was how the wedding ended up being a month later. So many older ladies comforted her saying ‘first babies are always late’, Alastor had gotten a good laugh out of her flushed face after. She had scolded him but couldn't put any heat behind it, weak as she was to his smile.

They never were physical together, it just wasn't something either of them wanted. They didn't desire each other for the body itself, but for the company and conversation. It was a lovely union, Alastor being attentive to her labors praising her work in the house and garden.

Speaking of her garden, since I see the house being his parents before his own. The garden was originally his mothers. It had fallen into deep disrepair since she had passed, as he had no talent for gardening. With his little wife however it had returned to its old splendor.

Where he didn't have a talent for the green, he did take well to his fathers old hunting lessons. Something he found himself indulging in as a married man. Fresh vegetables and herbs along side some fresh venison, made for a wonderfully fresh meal you couldn't find anywhere else. Who knew all it took was one these hunts for him to disappear from her life forever?

#x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #1920s-1933 alastor #tried to keep it time accurate #dividers by #saradika-graphics

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sugar-konpeito · 2 years

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I feel like Pluto being in love with someone is kind of important for her character?????? It shows that she has emotions completely unrelated to servitude. There’s someone she loves for her sake, and her sake alone. She may have been created to serve others, but she still has her own desires, whether she likes it or not. She feels more human that way.

#sailor pluto #setsuna meioh #it could be romantic or platonic #i think she needs some kind of selfish desire to feel complete #as a character #no one can just dutifully serve others all the time!!#people need to be selfish #even if it's only inside their head and never externalized #pluto selfishly love this person in her head #never saying out loud #she's ashamed of doing something for herself alone #and she doesn't want anyone to know about it #her loving endymion is interesting to me :>#she's vowed to care for him from the side #and never expect anything in return #she feels inexplicable joy helping endymion #but there's a sadness too #nobody would even be mad at her if she told them #she's chosen to torture herself #being selfless all the time is not ideal basically!!!!#loving chibiusa is a shared duty of all the sailor guardians #so she can tell herself that THAT'S just part of her duty #loving a child is a shared purpose #but loving endymion is not #he's already an adult #and has plenty of love from his family already #she can't love him for *his* sake #only her own #so she's gotta confront herself about this eventually #sailor moon

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leebrontide · 1 year

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Every single time I see a take that amounts to "if you write about X happening, or like fiction where X happens, you like X" I'm reminded of this one time I was at a casual friends house as a young kid. We were in her room, pretending to "be orphans" escaping from an evil orphanage and having to take care of each other and fend for ourselves. It was all very Little Orphan Annie/All Dogs Go to Heaven and based on the 80s pop media.

And this girl's mom comes in, hears what we're playing and gets all MAD and UPSET. She says that if we play act something, it's because we want it to happen. So her daughter must WANT HER TO DIE.

First off lady, we were 6 year year olds, so take it down several notches. We barely had a concept of mortality for fucks sake. She made us feel so guilty and ashamed, because she was taking our game personally.

Now I have a 5 year old. And sometimes she looks at me and says "pretend you're dead, and I have to -" Whatever it is. Some adult task she's assigned herself.

And it's just so transparently obvious that she's practicing the idea of having to do things on her own. Which is exactly what 5 year olds are supposed to do. I actually find it very flattering that the only way she can envision me not being available to help her is to be literally deceased. Otherwise, obviously, she wouldn't have to do scary hard things alone.

It's a natural coping mechanism. She's self-soothing about what would happen if I wasn't there by play-acting independence in a perfectly safe environment. She's also practicing skills she needs, and making up excuses for practicing them on her own, without taking on the responsibility of being able to do them by herself all the time yet.

Humans mentally rehearse bad this in their brains all the time. We can do that by ruminating- going over worries over and over again, which tends to lead to anxiety and helplessness and depression. Or we can do it with a sense of play- by recognizing that the fiction is fiction and we can dip our toe into these experiences and expose ourselves to bad things without actually being injured.

My daughter does not want me dead. And I don't want bad things to happen in real life. But fiction and pretend help me face the horrors of the world and think about them without collapsing or messing myself up mentally.

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vampiresbloodx · 3 days

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warnings(18+ ONLY): smut, sub!reader, Dom!Wanda, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, teasing, blow jobs (on strap), spitting, slight praise, more degradation, rough s/x, strap on use, all of it is consensual, petnames use (good girl, baby).

emo!gf!Wanda uses you however she pleases and you gladly let her.

The first time she got a taste of you, she was obsessed. No, that wasn't a joke. No one has ever seen her been like this before about anyone. You bring out a completely different side to her than not even her best friend could know about.

Wanda claimed she didn't like girls, she always told herself she wasn't a lesbian and denied any rumours surrounding that.

It wasn't that she was ashamed, she didn't give zero fucks about their opinions. Maybe a little. That's what she was known for, her no bullshit attitude, the resting bitch face, someone to not fuck with.

Then she met you.

The cute adorable nerd who's too shy for their own good.

Wanda wanted to have you all to herself, and she did.

No one was allowed to touch you, flirt with you, go as far as to ask you out.

She would kill them.

Only you'd have to stop her from even putting them in the hospital.

Even if you were left alone for a few hours, minutes, seconds, if someone tried to come at you, she would randomly pop up out of nowhere scaring the hell out of them.

But not you.

She liked that.

She really liked you.

What she liked most was making you come as many times as she wanted. How you squirm under her gaze and touch, just one look and you're begging on your knees, it drives her insane. She has to use you.

You gladly accept it. Because you know she likes you. That's all you wanted.

You've had a crush on her for as long as you can remember, and you weren't the type to crush on people easily. Sure, they'd come, but they would never last that long.

And yet with Wanda, you knew you'd do anything she asked. She was the prettiest girl you've ever met, you just wanted her attention, her everything.

Wanda knew that too.

And she used it to her advantage.

"aw, is my pretty baby already soaking wet?" She cooed, slipping her fingers inside of your tight hole, moaning when she feels your walls clench around her. "Fucking hell, I've never fucked anyone who's pussy was just dripping, begging to be touched."

You whined, bucking your hips into her but she forced them down, glaring at you.

"now, you know I'm gonna have my way with you, I'll let you come once I know you've behaved well, don't move" she demanded.

Your body shuddered, somehow you listened, you always did.

There were times where you liked being a brat, getting the worst out of her was fun, however, this time you really didn't want to mess around.

"good girl" she cooed gently, her voice sending a shiver down your spine, she didn't waste anytime, nor did she back down with starting slow and easy, practically splitting you open with her fingers hard enough that'll make you cry.

Wanda smiled wickedly, watching your every move and reaction, your mouth gaped open, your eyes never leaving hers, fuck, it drove her wild.

"aw, does someone wanna come?" She teased, slowing her movements. "Hmm, it seems this pretty pussy is ready for my cock, don't you think?" She said, loving the way your eyes widened, pupils dilated at the sound of that.

She pulled her pants down, releasing her long, lengthy strap that she kept hidden to surprise you. It was one of her favourites she brought online. A cute, pink dildo that reminded her of you.

It's just too precious.

"spit on it" she muttered, watching as you did as she ordered, once she was pleased enough, Wanda's hands came up to your head, you eagerly wrapped your mouth over her fake dick, she groaned.

"good girl, sucking my cock so well" she moaned. "God, you're my personal fucktoy, aren't you?, my flesh light, you like that, don't you?."

She heard you whimper, causing her to smirk.

"do a good enough job and maybe I'll reward you with something else."

#wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #emo!wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut #stuff i wrote

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florencemtrash · 2 months

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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Thirteen

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Canon typical violence. A walk through Velaris turns for the worse and the secrets of The Book are finally revealed...

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

It would seem I was wrong. It does not take much for Bethsevah Mordeigh to turn.

I should be ashamed, but the more often Thanatos keeps coming back, the more I come to like him. Make no mistake, he’s as dangerous and volatile as a starving animal, but compared to his siblings he’s a saint.

I saw him kill a male yesterday. One who stumbled upon our hidden ceremony and threatened to come back with Koschei’s army and crush us and the Mother beneath his boot.

But with a snap of Thanatos’s fingers the nameless fae was gone. Gone in a gust of red wind that smelled and tasted like metal. And Thanatos looked stronger for it. His pale skin stopped being so translucent. His hair looked a touch darker, so dark it swallowed all light. A piece cut away from the fabric of the world.

Death is his food. Him and his siblings feed on it and crave it like nothing else.

Except for me.

Thanatos says he craves me. And I think I believe him. I think I’m beginning to crave him too.

Gwyn froze when the mountain’s door slid back. Azriel stood outside Cagniv Library with a bouquet of salt-white water lilies clutched in one hand and pale blue tulips in the other.

“Azriel,” you smiled brightly, the last word you’d meant to speak to Gwyn dying on your lips. “What’re you doing here?”

The midday sun beat down on the face of the mountain, shortening the shadows around your feet.

“I was coming from the House of Wind and was hoping you’d take a long walk home with me. These are for you.” He held out the tulips. “And for you.” He held out the lilies for Gwyn, which she accepted after a brief moment of hesitance.

Azriel looked… lighter. His shadows were stronger than ever, clinging to his body like a second scent, but his eyes held a fondness and love for you that Gwyn had never seen before. Not when he was looking at Mor, not when he was looking at Elain… not when he was looking at her. It was so obvious to Gwyn’s eyes, she was amazed you hadn’t caught on yet. You just looked at the flowers with a touch of color flooding your cheeks. Bashful and uncertain of how to accept such a gift.

“Thank you.” You touched the velvety petals between your fingers as though they might crumble if you weren’t gentle.

“Yes. Thank you.”

Azriel looked at Gwyn, that small smile of his faltering and then growing once more when Gwyn nodded her head. It was a silent acknowledgement. A quiet understanding that didn’t completely escape your notice.

I’m not happy with you. Gwyn’s eyes spoke. But I understand. Her teal eyes flashed protectively. Don’t fuck this up.

“I assume I’ll be seeing you tomorrow?” Gwyn smirked at you and nudged her shoulder with your own, feeling the soft give of her skin and the strength in her arms.

“Where else would I be?”

“At home. Sleeping.”

“Pffft. Sleep is for the weak.”

“Careful. You’re starting to sound like Az. Now shoo.” Gwyn waved you off, watching as you took the arm that Azriel offered and made your way down the smooth steps of the mountain back to the city.

You bowed your heads together, lips barely moving and cutting out two dark silhouettes in the air. Azriel must have said something funny because your gentle laugh carried itself on the wind, weaving into the air like silver thread. Gwyn couldn’t help but smile at you.

If she knew what was about to happen, she would have never let you leave the library.

“They’re in love.”

Azriel looked sideways at you, catching the sweet scent of your hair as you leaned against him. The Palace of Hoof and Leaf buzzed with quiet energy, the air tinged with the scent of sugar from the confectionary booths.

“Who?”

“Beth and Thanatos.”

The book rocked against your hip, matching the beat of you and Azriel’s steps as you walked through the cobblestone marketplace. Lanterns hung unlit from the arches above, bobbing on wire like the bubbles that a pair of hawk-winged children were blowing from the steps of a peach-stone apartment. The girl, blue-eyed and red-haired, nudged the boy, pointing at the Shadowsinger with something like awe. Azriel offered them a faint smile and a few tendrils of his shadows licked at their feet as they scampered away with laughter. It was just a game to them after all.

“I didn’t think he was capable of love,” Azriel noted. He thought back to the memories you’d unearthed with your powers and of the violent ways Thanatos had inched his way into Beth’s life. Wherever he lingered, death followed. But so far as you knew, he was also incredibly protective of Beth and the other priestesses. They’d benefited from his presence even if they were unnerved by it. He’d kept them hidden from Koschei.

“Beth didn’t think so either.” You flinched when one of the marketplace hawkers held his hand out to you. He didn’t shout like the others and seemed grieved when you stepped back into the folds of Azriel’s wings. He opened his sticky fist palm up to the sky revealing a handful of neat caramel candies wrapped in wax paper.

“For the miss.”

Y/n looked at Azriel, who only nodded with a smile.

“Thank you.” You gingerly took them from him, taking a moment to admire the light brown of the confectioner’s eyes, like burnt sugar, and the wisps of candy floss clinging to his shirt like loose threads.

He didn’t resume his shouting until you were a good distance away, deep voice bellowing out over the square that his wares were made fresh that morning. You unwrapped one of the candies and stuck it in your mouth, sighing as it turned around on your tongue, slowly melting. Azriel took one of the candies you offered, but tucked it into his pocket when you turned your head to inspect the baskets of spices laid out on the sidewall.

“But he keeps staying with her. Keeps warning her of Koschei’s movements so she and her fellow priestesses can stay hidden. He… he cares for her. Or at least Beth seems to think so. The information — the story — is more pleasant than I could have hoped for, and I’m eternally grateful she doesn’t go in depth about their activities—”

Azriel chuckled. “So it’s not like one of Nesta’s books.”

“Thank the Mother no. But it doesn’t get us any closer to finding out how to defeat Koschei. She doesn’t even talk about Koschei or the priestesses much. Only Thanatos. It’s just a love story.”

“Love stories are never just that though. They’re probably the most powerful things in the universe. Look at Rhysand and Feyre. Cassian and Nesta. I don’t think we’d be where we are now if not for their love for one another. The things they were willing to do to protect what they cared about.”

“Do you ever wish you had that?” You dared to ask. “That kind of love? A mate?” Azriel turned to look at you, eyes filled with more cryptic meaning than you could ever imagine unraveling. There was hope, longing, grief, and a slew of other emotions. Their weight seemed to press in on you, but you didn’t feel overwhelmed.

“All the time,” he whispered. Then he smiled, staring down at where your arm was linked to his. “Do you?”

You turned away almost bitterly. “I don’t know what I’d do with that kind of love. If I’d be able to handle it. It might be too much for me.”

“I would disagree.”

You couldn’t find the words to respond, so you settled on silence. Luckily for you, silence with Azriel never felt uncomfortable.

“If your shadows keep taking them, I’m going to forget how many I’ve selected.”

“I see no problem with this,” Azriel shrugged and continued to follow you around the bookshop. It had stuck out to you immediately on your long walk back to the River House. A squat, two-story townhouse with charmingly chipped white paint laid over sturdy brick and sage green shutters. Candles winked in the afternoon light pressed up against window sills where two fat ginger cats lay purring in the sun. The dark, woodsy interior dripped with books, leather notebooks, and automatic writing pens that hovered over thick pages like butterflies. “We have space in the house.”

“It’s less about space and more about how much I’ve spent.” Your fingers brushed the next book on the shelf and its deep purple binding.

Oh that one’s interesting — a romance between a Spring Court nymph and a Dundarian knife maker filled with adventure, lust, longing, and found family.

You’d no sooner plucked it from the shelf before shadows crowded your hands, whisking it off to whatever ether Azriel kept them hidden in. He wrote the name of the book on a sheaf of paper, his handwriting neat and simple.

You turned on him, arms folded over your chest. “You can’t keep doing that.”

“You are not to spend a copper of your own money here. Rhysand and Feyre’s orders. Just put it on the House’s credit. Rhysand’s already added you.”

“They put me on their credit?” You balked even thinking about the money you’d been given access to.

Azriel nodded. “Consider it repayment.”

“Repayment for what? I haven’t done anything.”

Azriel looked at you quietly, as if the answer were obvious. “You’re the reason I still have a sister-in-law and a niece. You’re the reason we now have a name to investigate and are one step closer to defeating Koschei. You’re the reason the Godswoods and the Gallows haven’t been stolen from yet and a number of Librarians still have their lives. Do I need to continue?”

You thought through what he said. It was true that Helion’s intervention in the Godswoods and the Gallows had been effective. No deaths had been reported since then, but it didn’t make you feel any safer. A snake was still a snake, even when camouflaged.

“Only two of those things matter to the Night Court. Helion owes me for the latter.”

“Then you can have him contact the banks and transfer the sums.” Azriel’s eyes twinkled with mischie. You went to snatch the paper out of his hands, but all he had to do was raise his arm to the ceiling, a smile tugging at his lips. You jumped up, one hand firm on his shoulder for leverage, but it was no use. He was too damned tall.

You stood on the tips of your toes to get closer to eye level with Azriel. His eyes flickered down to your lips, the shapes they made as you quietly said, “Thank you.”

You lingered in the stacks for a few moments longer, nervously asked the shop owner to put the list of books on the High Lord and High Lady’s tab — which she did with a warm smile — and then made your way back outside. The bell hanging above the doorway jingled happily, the wood burned sign saying Come back soon! Love, Jessebell.

You trailed ahead of him down the street. Every sign, every shop window display, every street sign — you drank them in like you were ravenous.

Azriel felt Rhys’s presence drift in the outskirts of his mind, and without hesitation, he let him in.

Where are you? What’s taking so long?

Nearly to the Sidra. I brought her to Jessebell’s.

That explains your lateness. Rhys paused. She must have loved that.

Azriel smiled inwardly. She did. She really did.

A female with weathered, dark skin and flowers sprouting from her ears stopped you on the street and although your first instinct was to recoil, you relaxed when she only lifted up a deep black tulip in her textured hands. The wilting flower straightened up when you kissed one of the petals as instructed and the gentle laugh that followed had Azriel’s heart soaring.

Well make sure you get here in time for dinner. I want as many of our family members under my roof as possible.

Is this an ask, or a command?

Don’t make me use my High Lord voice on you.

Azriel rolled his eyes with a smile. I am absolutely trembling. Do you use that tone of voice on Nyx?

He felt as much as heard Rhys’s laughter. Enjoy your time with Y/n, but come back soon. Mor is looking to get her hands on your mate. Mother help us all.

Rhys cut the connection and Azriel was free to admire you once more.

You cradled the bouquet he’d given you in your arms, light reflecting off the petals and casting a faint blue glow on your face as you chatted with the florist. Your smile, which had started out forced and nervous, was slipping into something more relaxed. When the female laughed merrily and touched your wrist, you didn’t flinch.

Dark tendrils of night curled around his ears and Azriel felt a shiver trail down his spine.

Behind you. His shadows whispered. The boy needs help. There’s something wrong with him.

The boy startled back when Azriel turned towards him, tripping over a nick in the cobblestones and landing with a wince on his palms. Glassy pale eyes stared up, wide and terrified. His clothes were rumpled and unkempt and his white-blond hair was a mess of curls flecked with grey, like he’d been rolling around in dust. Pale pink and blue veins rose to the surface of his green-tinged skin, sickly and unnerving. He looked like a corpse on puppet strings.

Azriel looked around, but no one was searching for the little boy. No yelps belonging to scared parents. No calls from a sibling.

“Shadowsinger, sir?” Even his voice sounded sickly, like his vocal chords were disintegrating in his throat.

Azriel immediately dropped to his knees and slid his hands behind his back. “What’s happened, little one? What’s wrong?” His voice was smooth and gentle.

He was too busy thinking that his boy was younger than Nyx, too busy ordering his shadows out to search for the boy’s parents that he didn’t think twice about the lingering stench of blood clinging to the boy’s shoes or the faint pain beginning to grow behind his hazel eyes.

The boy looked around furtively while wringing his grubby hands, and then leaned close to whisper in Azriel’s ear. His pale eyes narrowed in concentration.

“It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen a black tulip before.”

“It’s a little secret of mine. You need to get the seed and soil just right.” The female brushed her waist length hair over her shoulder. The knotted strands had the thick, coarse texture of seafarer’s rope, as aged and wise as the rest of her. When you held the flower back out for her to take she shook her head.

“For you, my dear. I have dozens more and I think it would attract more business if you wore it around today. A beautiful creature like you must get lots of attention.”

You knew she was probably just saying these things to get your business, but you couldn’t help the spark of joy the compliments gave you. She helped tuck the flower into the braids of your hair and you felt the petals kiss the tips of your left ear.

“Say.” The female leaned in like she was about to share a secret. “If you aren’t already taken, I have a niece who’d love to have a pretty girl like you on her arm.”

Your blush deepened and you found yourself stammering, “That’s very kind, but I don't-I don’t-'' You glanced up the street. Azriel was kneeling on the ground, head bent down to a small child. You only caught the wisps of white, candy floss hair over Azriel’s broad shoulders.

The female traced the path of your gaze and sighed. “Ahhhhh. I see.” There was a triumphant look in her eyes, even as she said, “Shame. But I’ll still give you my niece’s name if you don’t mind.”

Your eyes snapped away from Azriel’s and you smiled in embarrassment. “Oh, we’re not—”

“Henna.”

You stepped back. Panic froze the blood in your veins and you felt pinpricks traveling up your body, stabbing your heart and your mind. You could see her now. Her silver hair fanned out around her. Her broken body. Her bloodied eye socket, dark and empty.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” You had to have heard her incorrectly. Your head was pounding but you pushed back on your mental wards, shoring up your defenses until the feeling passed.

The female tilted her head to the side. Her eyes were as milky and glassy as pearls. “Does the name mean anything to you, dear?”

You took another step back and the female stepped forward. Her eyes seemed to clear then and her brows furrowed in concentration and pain. She lunged forward, tearing away at your clothes and knocking the flowers of your hands as she begged. “Help me. The boy. He’s inside—HELP ME!”

You surged back, crumpling to the ground under her heavy weight as she continued to pull and claw.

She’d been restocking the back room when the dirty little boy and the tailor showed up in the alleyway. He still carried that bolt of fabric under the crook of his arm. He took out a knife, orange eyes flashing and slit his throat from ear to ear while the little boy watched. Smiling.

“LET GO!” You kicked out, ramming your knee up and into the soft flesh of her stomach like you’d seen Emerie do to Cassian, but you lacked her strength and technique. The female wheezed but didn’t let go, even as others came to try and pry her off of you. Their voices were frantic, trying to calm you down, but they were the voices and hands of strangers.

“AZ!” You screamed, feeling the female sink her nails into your arm.

There was an ugly tearing sound and the cool touch of wind at your chest. Your robes were ripped apart under her rough hands and her eyes narrowed in on your belt and the chain that connected to the book. She bucked off a cherub-faced female with a blow to her nose and blood splashed over your cheek.

“Help me. Please. Oh… oh gods.” She grabbed at the book, but the chain glowed iron hot in her hands. The smell of burning scorched your nose as the magic did what it was meant to do. Nothing could break that chain. Not unless you willed it. Not while you were still alive.

“Oh gods. Oh gods help me. I’m so sorry.” There were tears streaming down her face, tracing the canyons and valleys of her skin. She threw off the fae clamoring around you both and ran with jerky, uncoordinated leaps back into her flower shop. She snatched the gardening shears off the windowsill where she’d been trimming her hydrangea bushes. She wept and shook her head, mouth struggling to open and scream as she held the shears up high and then drove them into her neck.

The scene took a long time to filter through the haze of panic and disbelief.

“Az… Az… Az—AZRIEL!” Your shrill scream pierced through the air. You scrambled away from everyone. Stones shaved away the skin of your knees, your palms. The tattered silk of your robes trailed behind you. “Don’t touch me!” You shrieked at the male who tried grabbing your arm, soft voice whispering.

He wasn’t the one you wanted.

“AZRIEL!”

The female dropped to her knees, hands clutching her throat as blood poured out in bubbly, gurgling spurts. The candy pink strips of her apron turned a wet, sticky black as she crawled back towards the door.

“Oh gods… Please,” she wheezed, wet and agonized, before collapsing face down on the floor. Motionless.

You staggered to your feet twisting away from everyone crowding around you.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t!”

“Miss you must sit. Please—”

“Let me help—”

“Are you hurt? What’s—”

“Don’t touch me. Please don’t touch me. Don’t touch me!”

Screams. The sound of doors slamming shut. Locks turning. Commanding barks calling for a healer. Calling for the High Lord and the High Lady. Calling for the Shadowsinger to help.

Azriel was still kneeling in front of that boy and no matter how many times you called his name and pushed through the crowd of people now rushing up and down the streets in a frenzy, he didn’t get up. He didn’t look at you. You may as well have not existed.

You finally reached him, narrowly missing being run over by a satyr who seemed to have gotten the wrong impression about which direction to sprint in. Every clip clop of his hooves shot through you.

“Az.”

Why hadn’t… Why hadn’t he helped you?

“Az.”

Why hadn’t he come when you called?

The Shadowsinger rose. One hand grabbed the hilt of Truth Teller and the malicious blade sang as it was unleashed. The shadows that normally hovered about him like mist were gone. They were all around you now, tugging you in the opposite direction towards the Sidra. They pleaded for you to run, but you couldn’t understand them.

Something was deeply, deeply wrong.

“Az.” You begged and grabbed hold of his hand. “Please. You’re scaring me.”

Truth Teller shot out and pain radiated up your arm as the blade cut neatly through your clothes and sliced open your skin. You tripped backward, landing with a thud on the street that rattled your bones. Your sleeve turned dark with blood.

You whimpered, holding your ruined arm up to your chest. There was no feeling in Azriel’s eyes. No flicker of recognition. None of that warmth and kindness you were so accustomed to. Just a menacing, silent form towering over you and blocking out the sun.

A pale boy stood by Azriel’s side with ice chip eyes and rectangular pupils. He grinned brightly and the stretch of his waxy cheeks was too tight. Too forced. He shouldn’t have been alive. He-he—

Andrian.

You’d seen him in Henna’s memory. You’d heard the snap of his neck beneath Koschei’s hands. Even now the boy was bent awkwardly, his head left in a perpetual tilt that should have looked charming and inquisitive but instead made you want to retch.

Andrian smiled at you then plastered a practiced look of horror on his face before running away with tears streaming down his cheeks, shouting for his mother. A burly male grabbed his shoulders, alarm on his face as he hoisted Andrian into his arms and disappeared into the crowd. Because who wouldn’t stoop down to help a fragile little boy? Who would dare suspect that the daemati that had roamed the Day Court’s halls and slithered his way into Velaris was a child?

Azriel gripped you by the front of your ruined clothes, hosting you up in the air. Your feet kicked uselessly and grabbed onto Azriel’s arm, trying to alleviate the choking pressure of his hand so close to your neck.

“No. Azriel please. It’s me,” you whimpered. “It’s me.”

There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. There and gone. So brief you wondered if you’d imagined it.

His left hand parted the tatters of your robes, and you flinched when his fingers brushed against your hip before settling on the chain that kept the book tied to you.

Panic seized your soul.

You’d been chipping away at the book’s secrets for months and you couldn’t let Azriel — couldn’t let Koschei — get his hands on it. Not without you knowing what it was that made Beth’s story so special.

You flung a hand out, feeling the leather of the book beneath your fingertips like it was your own skin. Your magic called out to the book, desperate and powerful and familiar, and the barriers it possessed to hide its secrets melted away at your beckoning. You poured every inch of your power into it even as Azriel’s lips turned down in an ugly frown that didn’t belong on his face.

Your eyes turned to gold, bright as the sun as you basked in the knowledge flooding your mind with the force of a tsunami. You didn’t hold anything back. Not this time.

You were so lost in the book — in the emotions and memories wrapping around your mind, sharp and brighter than the light of a thousand suns — that you didn’t feel it when Azriel gripped that golden chain. The metal flared, a high-pitched ring piercing the air as it snapped in two, giving way to Azriel’s power. Nothing should have broken it. And yet there it was dangling from your waist.

You did feel it when he broke your wrist.

When he forced the book from your grasp.

And then stabbed you in the stomach.

Cassian and Nesta winnowed to the street and watched in horror as your body was dropped to the ground. Your head cracked the pavement, hands twitching palms up at your sides.

Nesta shrieked. The sound was harrowing. The mourning, dying screams of an animal.

She charged forward, twin blades flashing in her hands, and silver light shot out of her chest, crashing into Azriel’s shields and forcing him back twenty feet. He gritted his teeth. The rubber soles of his shoes skidded and burned.

Cassian collapsed on his knees beside you, peeling off his leather jacket and wrapping it around your head and neck to keep it in place.

“Shit.” His hands came away bloody. RHYS! FEYRE! He screamed into the corners of his mind, hoping they’d hear. GET HERE NOW!

“Thanatos.” Your voice was weak.

“It’s Cass. Hey, keep your eyes on me ok.” He pressed his hands against your stomach, wings flared out to protect you from the cold burn of Nesta’s power as she went toe to toe with The Shadowsinger. Magic sizzled in the air, raising the hair on the back of Cassian’s neck like a lightning strike waiting to happen. Blood pooled over his hands, thick and dark. “Eyes open,” he commanded, “On me.”

Your eyes were open, and glowing strangely, but you weren’t staring at Cassian. No. You were miles outside of your body.

“The Bone Carver. That’s it.”

“Eyes on me, Y/n. Eyes on me.”

“Thanatos,” your hand twitched, “The Bone Carver. That’s how she did it.”

Nesta screamed, flying overhead in a burst of blue light that had her back slamming into one of the marketplace towers. The white marble cracked viciously and Nesta dropped to the ground, dazed and distracted as blood dripped out from her nose.

“NESTA!” Cassian roared, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits as Azriel waited at the bottom of the street.

The Shadowsinger muttered something dark and revolting beneath his breath. Ancient, powerful words that were whispered in his mind. He held onto the book in his hands as it lit up in flames and then blew the ashes into the wind that would carry them all the way to Andrian’s master.

Koschei.

The call of her mate sharpened her senses and Nesta rolled onto her feet, calling her weapons back into her hands and leveling a glare at Azriel that would have killed a lesser male on the spot.

She was Nesta fucking Archeron.

Lady Death.

Queen of Queens.

And she would be damned if she let Azriel hurt her or anyone else.

“I’m sorry for what I’m about to do, Az,” she growled.

She’d been holding back before. She’d been holding back a long while. But no more of that. The power she let out burst through Velaris with light brighter than a dying star, crackling with an energy that knocked Azriel off his feet and sent him crashing into the river wall with a sickening crack that shattered the bones in his arm, his leg, and his wings.

Rhys appeared at his side, violet eyes wide open in shock. He could feel the magic suffocating his brother’s consciousness, burying him so deep there was almost nothing left but anger behind his whiskey-brown eyes.

Rhysand grabbed the sides of his head, shoving his way into Azriel’s mind even while he fought back. Rhys flinched when one of Azriel’s knives nicked his temple, drawing blood that dripped down onto his velvet dinner jacket and floated on the dense material like dew drops.

“Stop. This isn’t you, Az.”

Azriel seethed, teeth bared and bloody. He spit in Rhysand’s face and he winced. Rhysand would never be able to forgive himself for what he did next. But someone had burrowed themselves into Azriel’s mind so thoroughly, so viciously, that in that moment, it was the only thing Rhys could think to do.

Rhysand’s talons dragged down on Azriel’s mental walls so viciously he screamed as they were torn to pieces. He dug in with brutal efficiency. Reaching, tearing, clawing to catch the curl of power that had infected Azriel’s mind before it could do any more damage. He latched onto its slithery, silver body and wrenched it out of Azriel’s consciousness.

When I find you. You’re as good as dead. Rhysand promised.

The daemati slunk away with a giddiness that sent a shiver through The High Lord’s bones.

Azriel slumped, weak and boneless, against his brother’s shoulder. Sweat beaded his brow and he shook, blinking the saltiness out of his eyes. He felt like he’d been beaten within an inch of his life. His bones were broken. His wings twisted. There was a raging headache that a hundred shots of vodka paled in comparison to.

But it was his hands that horrified him most. Red and slippery.

His breath shook.

He couldn’t… he couldn’t remember… what….

His eyes shot to Rhys, then up the street where he could make out Feyre, Cass, and Nesta huddled over your still body. The bond sat deep within him pulsing with terror and pain.

“Rhys.” His voice broke. Rhysand angled his body to hide you from view, but it was too late. Azriel was panicking now, body trembling uncontrollably. “What happened?”

Rhysand said nothing. His eyes shined with horror.

“What did I do? Rhys, what did I do?!”

“Cass. Cassian, I’ve got her.”

His hands were shaking. There was so much blood. The smell burned his nose and made him want to throw up his lunch. Feyre covered his hands with her own, peeling them away sticky and red from Y/n’s stomach.

Light flooded out from Feyre’s palms, warm and lovely and Cassian and Nesta breathed a sigh of relief as the flow of red slowed and then stopped, flesh knitting itself back together.

“It’s ok. You’ll be ok.” Nesta’s words were commanding as she held your neck and head still.

Your eyes searched the empty sky, seeing and unseeing. Then your hands shot up, grasping Feyre’s shoulders and digging in deep enough to leave bruises. Your eyes were wide, staring at her with an intensity that spoke of a thousand years. An unfathomable wealth of knowledge that should have crushed you beneath its weight.

“Y/n it’s ok,” she murmured gently, pushing more power into your body, willing you to heal faster.

“Look. Feyre you need to look,” your voice was thick. Wet. Blood coated the inside of your mouth bitter and metallic.

“I’m looking. Y/n, you hit your head. It’s going to be ok. You hear me? It’s going to be ok.”

“You need to look,” you said once more.

You trailed a bloody, weak hand down Feyre’s arm and pulled her fingers up to your temple, tapping once. Twice.

Without any more direction, she slipped into your mind and gasped.

Feyre stood in a pool of mist, white fingers reaching up her legs and splintering outwards before they changed direction and started to climb up into the darkness like trees. Or rather… like bookshelves. The mist formed stacks that disappeared into the distance, endless hallways and shelves that wound around each other. Chaotic and orderly at the same time.

She could feel your presence beside her. Or rather she was you. In that moment she felt the raging winds of your power, hot and ravenous. It wrapped around you, tugging you to and fro like that uncontrollable lurch when you stand too close to the cliff’s edge. The call of the void.

She needed to answer that call the same way you did whenever you used your powers, because somewhere in the halls of your mind stood the knowledge you’d worked so hard to obtain. The truth of how it was Bethsevah Mordeigh was able to trap Koschei, and how to end it once and for all.

Feyre let your magic pull her in the right direction. In the mist she stumbled upon the final memories you’d absorbed from the book before it had blown away in the wind.

Bethsevah wept, “No. No. No. I won’t,” shoving away the reed thin body that held her so close. Thanatos grasped her face in his pale hands, begging her to listen to him even as she shook her head frantically. “I won’t do it.”

“You must. Bethsevah, you must.” His pitch black eyes winked with starlight… or maybe it was his tears.

This world and its people had changed him. He could feel it in his bones. Something very deep and cruel within him had been twisted into something sacred. Something that toed the line of kindness.

Koschei thought it was this element that made fae and humans beneath the three of them. They were supposed to be pure. Powerful. Handing out life and taking it away like the gods they were. But now Thanatos knew better. Now he knew exactly what it was that made Koschei and Stryga worse than even him — they would never be able to care for anyone. Not the way he cared for Bethsevah. Not the way he cared for the world she loved.

“I won’t do it,” she growled.

“Then they’ll die,” he said, with a tone of finality that could only belong to a death god. “Everyone. Everyone you love. Everyone you care about. I know my brother. Koschei craves attention and devotion above all else. He won’t let you worship your Mother. He won’t stop until you all kneel or until you’re ashes in the wind. Beth—” He wrenched her hands back from where she covered her eyes, refusing to even look at him.

He tucked his crooked finger beneath her chin, coaxing her gaze up. Together they were storm clouds blanketing an eternal night. A lightning strike — brief and chaotic and electrifying.

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me,” she whispered, steel laced in her soft voice, “You don’t know what you’re offering.”

He smiled, sad and simple. “I know exactly what I’m offering up.”

“Once I lock you in The Prison, I won’t be able to let you out. No one will. You’ll be trapped there for eternity.” She shivered, closing her eyes. She wouldn’t wish that fate upon her worst enemy, but her mate? She shook her head.

“I know.”

“No, you—”

“I have seen the first fall of snow on a new world. I have seen entire cities leveled to dust with no survivors. I’ve lived thousands of years. I understand.”

“We’ll find a way. Kosch—”

“Remember what I told you,” he whispered, “Back at the cabin? You were made to ruin me, Beth. And I will let you do it a million times over. Without hesitation.”

You and Feyre felt Beth’s pain as acutely as if you shared the same heart.

“I wish she hadn’t done it,” Beth whispered, “I wish the Mother had never created me to be your mate.”

“I don’t.” Thanatos leaned his forehead against Beth’s and got lost in her. “There is no other way, Bethsevah.” He kept saying her name, like just speaking the word and feeling the shapes it took in his mouth would prolong the time they had together. Would tie them together more surely than the bond that burned in their chests.

She felt the battleground slip beneath her feet and no amount of power, no amount of willpower, could change it.

He brushed back her hair and trailed one of his slender fingers down the curve of her cheek ending one teardrop’s race to her chin. “Mating bonds are powerful things, Beth. Your magic — your blood — and yours alone will be able to cut through my defenses and sever me from my power. I want you to take it and lock me away. Once my magic is yours, Stryga won’t be able to see you coming and you’ll be able to take her power as well. So long as you leave Koschei for last it may just be enough power to rid him from this earth once and for all.”

“You’d have me do this. Destroy you and your family. This is what you want?”

Thanatos hesitated. “I am not a good male. But this… this will have to be enough. This is what I want, Bethsevah. For you and your family to live. To be happy and safe.”

“I won’t be happy, “ she said, eyes now flat and dull as the silver coins they placed over the dead, “I won’t take anyone else.”

“I want you to,” he begged, “I want you to marry and to have children. I want you to grow your family so that one day, if I ever do make it out of that Prison, I’ll still see pieces and memories of you roaming this earth. That’s all I want, Bethsevah, and it’s already more than I deserve.”

“I’ll find a way,” Beth promised. “I’ll find a way to get you out. I swear it.”

“Don’t make any bargains with me.” He smiled sadly, thumb wiping away at her cheeks, “That’s what got us into this mess.”

Finally she laughed, just a little. “I don’t regret it.”

“Neither do I.”

The memory froze. A moment in time trapped like a beetle in amber.

A hand grabbed Feyre by her shoulders and swung her around. You stood there cloaked in pale, golden light, your eyes shining like copper coins. When you opened your mouth, you spoke in Beth’s voice.

Thanatos told me that magic runs in blood — familiar, same. But mates are different. Powerful. Their magic can protect one another. Identify one another across space and across time. But they can also turn on each other viciously. A lock and a key. Madness and salvation.

What I could destroy in Thanatos, I stood a chance at destroying in his siblings.

Your face fell, hauntingly beautiful in the glow of your powers.

But I couldn’t do it. Not in the way he asked. I took his power. I locked him in that Prison. I bound Stryga to her cabin in the woods. But I didn’t kill Koschei when I should have. When the power of three gods was coursing through my veins and stripping me down to my bones, when I had enough light within me to see the birth and death of stars and the face of the Mother, I couldn’t do it.

I thought I would be capable of destroying Koschei and freeing Thanatos, but I couldn’t do either. I had only enough sanity left to take that power and bury it somewhere Koschei couldn’t touch. To trap him on the lake where he can live in madness knowing his magic is so close by and yet locked away. Unreachable.

I’ve done my part. I’ve had my children. I’ve left my mark on the world, great and terrible as it is. If you’re reading this, my daughters, do what I could not. Take the power in the lake and destroy him. It will open for you, and only you. My power. My blood.

And if you have any love for me at all, find a way to release Thanatos. That is what I ask of you.

Bethsevah’s calls had never been answered, at least not by her children. You knew this much in your heart. Thanatos — The Bone Carver — had freed himself thousands of years later only to die beneath the Cauldron’s power.

You whispered a silent prayer to the Mother. You hoped the Bone Carver was at peace now. Now that he must be with his Beth.

Azriel was screaming your name, broken cries cutting through the quiet of the marketplace. You’d never thought him capable of such a wretched noise.

The High Lady sat shock still above you with tears streaming down her face. Grey eyes glistening.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

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Author's Note:

I apologize if you thought I'd forgotten about the plot with Koschei and was just writing cute, fluffy scenes between our favorite Librarian and our favorite Batboy. But you also should've remembered that I burned this girl's house down and had her kill a another character in self defense so... this was coming... sorry...

This is by far the chapter I've been most nervous about posting because it's where I start to tie together all the weird loose threads that have been accumulating throughout this story so I am very much open to feedback on how I can do things better and on how I can make things clearer moving forward. Or! If you thought I did a good job and are intrigued, I'd appreciate it if you let me know that too!

But anyway thanks for reading 😅.

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x reader slowburn #azriel shadowsinger #the shadowsinger and the inkbird #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel x reader angst

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hiyyihrts · 2 months

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The way he starts the scene so intently looking at her with not admiration but almost gloating, in a sense, because he’s told her that he missed her and her letters, so of course Penelope being Penelope she’ll just faun and look bashful and maybe mumble a line out to him, but it shifts to a 180 when she starts saying she’s the laughing stock of the ton and that she knows he’d never court her no matter what she ‘changes’ about herself to fit the ton’s needs and wants. You can see he avoids her gaze and looks anywhere but directly into her eyes, because she’s no longer praising him and awarding his own thoughts by amusing him. I think here he realizes that what she’s saying is true and he’s embarrassed/maybe even a little ashamed to admit that he’s also thought that or thought something similar. But I think he also realizes, once she says he’s cruel and just like the rest of the ton, that he’s taken Penelope for granted. She’s always indulged in his adventures and whims and travels, all of his family troubles, all of his internal-self issues, etc. and that she’s always been nothing but “kind” to him, when in reality she wasn’t revealing everything she probably wanted to say or felt at the time, because how could she ever hurt Colin or do something to take the good-natured smile and easy going wiles away from him? His Penelope would never do that! But she’s becoming her own person for once and entering into her own agency, and he’s not sure how to maneuver through it, let alone with her through it. So I feel as though he looks at her with a sense of shame and regret as she walks away- so much he wants to deny and refute but not being able to because he believes some of it to be true as she believes as well.

#me rambling into the void for no reason this morning #bridgerton #polin #bridgerton s3 #bridgerton season 3 #romancing mister bridgerton #colin x penelope #penelope featherington #penelope x colin #colin bridgerton #out of the shadows

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barcaatthemoon · 1 month

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serial heartbreaker || leila ouhabi x reader ||

leila comes back to barcelona after you figure out that she cheated on you in manchester.

it became obvious that something was up whenever your teammates started acting weird around you. alexia and mapi were the first, but ona, pina, and claudia quickly followed suit. ona began to outright avoid you, which hurt pretty badly. almost as badly as whenever you finally realized what was going on.

you sat with your suspicions for several weeks before they were officially confirmed. leila was careful, but she got sloppy. it was in the back of someone else's instagram stories. your eyes had zeroed in on your girlfriend making out with another girl in the background of a video that one of her teammates had shot.

it was hard not letting on that you knew anything, but you weren't nearly as good at it as you thought you were. alexia could see that you were hurting, as could more of your more perceptive teammates. the one who had shocked you was lucy, who had snapped at leila whenever she came back to spain for a visit, claiming to have missed you dearly.

"get the fuck out of here," lucy had practically growled at leila. the woman had planned on surprising you, and at lucy ruining that, leila got pissed. the two of them were at each other's throats, and it took mapi and alexia leading leila away for things to calm down a bit. you couldn't hear them at first, but soon the hallway was full of your two barcelona teammates yelling at leila in spanish. "are you okay?"

"yeah, i'm fine," you answered quietly. lucy kneeled down next to you and put her hand around your shoulders. "how long have you guys known?"

"ona told me about it a few months ago. i didn't want to have to be the one to tell you. i'm sorry for not mentioning it earlier," lucy said. you nodded as you pulled her into a hug.

"it's okay. i probably wouldn't have believed you for a while. i couldn't, leila promised she'd never do something like this," you said. lucy understood how you felt. ona had been livid with the other spanish player whenever she had found out, to the point where lucy was certain they hadn't spoken to each other since. "when do you think they'll be done? i do have to talk to leila at some point."

"just tell her to get the fuck out of here, please? i know that she means a lot to you, but you can't go back to her. ona said it herself, leila will do it again," lucy pleaded with you. if it had been anybody else, you probably would have ignored the warnings, but lucy didn't like to get involved with people's lives like this.

"i'll try to," you promised. lucy pressed a kiss to your head before she helped you up to your feet. the two of you walked over to where alexia and mapi were still tearing into leila, who looked both ashamed and angry. lucy pulled your teammates away to give you some privacy with leila.

"amor," leila started. she moved towards you, but you held your hand up to keep her away from you. "please, let me explain."

"there's nothing to explain, leila. you cheated on me, it is that simple. you can blame the distance, your loneliness, the fact that you're just so affectionate. you can say anything that you want, but that doesn't change the fact that you cheated on me," you told her. "so go ahead and explain yourself because i'd love to hear whatever bullshit you've been telling yourself, but once you're done, i want you to answer all my questions."

"i missed you, and i was angry because i told you not to come with me. you offered to come to manchester, but i told you to stay here instead. i was all alone, and it was my fault, so i took it upon myself to be less lonely. it was just hook ups at first, i swear, and then there was this girl on the training staff. we hit it off, things are going great, but she's not you," leila said. all her words did was fill you with rage. she had confirmed that this had been going on for a lot longer than you knew, and worse than that, she was still with one of the girls she had cheated with.

"get the fuck out of here. if i never see you again, it'll still be too fucking soon." you turned on your heels and walked right out of the room. leila tried to chase after you, but lucy was right there to stop her. you walked into the locker room and went straight to your locker, beginning to pack up your things to go home.

"(y/n), are you okay?" mapi asked as she sat down next to you. you weren't crying, it was far past that, but you were obviously pissed. you didn't mean to direct it at mapi, but the glare you gave her had the woman backing away from you instantly. unfortunately for you, alexia wasn't as easily scared by you.

"i'm sorry that we didn't do something before," alexia said as she pulled you into a hug. her embrace was tight and comforting, but you didn't let yourself relax. most of the girls looked away, but you could see ona standing across the room looking at you longingly. she had been avoiding you for months, and it killed her to not be by your side as your best friend.

"come here oni," you told her. she raced over towards you, both of you dissolving into fits of tears as soon as you were in each other's arms. her apologies were scrambled in between sobs and spanglish, but you knew that she meant it. still, a part of you couldn't forgive her for what happened. she had known since the beginning that leila had cheated on you, but she hadn't said anything to you.

"do you need a ride home?" alexia asked once you and ona had calmed down a little. you nodded as you picked up your bag. the team didn't miss the way that you ignored ona as she said goodbye to you. the anger you felt for leila was starting to spread around the team, and if it wasn't for the fact that you needed alexia for support, you'd probably shut her out too. "it's not an excuse, but none of us knew how to tell you about leila. you seemed so happy, and i knew she'd do this when she started talking about switching teams. i didn't think it'd get so out of hand."

"were you listening to us?" you asked. alexia nodded her head as she started driving. you knew that she wasn't taking you back to your apartment. "did you know it was with so many girls?"

"no, it's never been that many before," alexia muttered. you could see that she wasn't just angry. "you were supposed to be different for her. i believed in her not to do this again. i'm sorry, if there's anybody you should be mad at, it's me, not ona. i'm the one who knew about this pattern. don't ruin a friendship with someone who doesn't deserve to be caught in the crossfire."

"it's hard right now. all i can think about is that she knew," you admitted. alexia sighed as she squeezed your hand. "i could have done the same thing to leila, but i didn't. why did she have to do that to me?"

"sometimes, she's careless about things that she shouldn't be. she was careless with your trust. it's hard, but try not to think about her. don't give her a second thought, because eventually, the pain will subside along with your feelings for her," alexia said. you tilted your head to the side as you realized that she was speaking from experience. "do you want to be alone right now or can i come inside too?"

"don't you have practice?" you questioned. alexia shrugged.

"not if you need a shoulder to cry on," she told you. "let me know what you need, and i'll do my best to get it for you."

"i want you to come with me, and maybe, when practice is over, we can call ona," you told her. alexia nodded as she got out of the car. she got your bag for you, and for a moment, it reminded you of the way that leila had been with you in the beginning of your relationship. the only difference was that alexia didn't look at you like leila did, as if she knew that you were already head over heels for her.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #leila ouahabi imagine #leila ouahabi x reader

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shun-nie · 8 months

Note

Hii!! If you dont mind writing something dark. Can you write satosugu with reader who often gone because she is sort of depressive and just want to run away. Reader is cool and collected in outside but never really expressed anything about herself. Thank youu in advanced

SatoSugu x reader

->You're a grade 1 sorcerer, and literally bestfriends with everyone. The problem is, you never smile. Nah, that's not your thing. But you can understand everyone, and look from their perspective before comforting them. You're a close friend of theirs, but how come they don't know anything about you??

Warnings!!!! Dark themes, gn!reader, mentions of suicide and death, swearing!!!!

"Man, where is Y/N? It gets boring when they're not around." Satoru sighed and pouted, not liking the silence in the room.

"That's for you to ask and nobody to know." Shoko replied with a bored tone, she was used to you disappearing out of nowhere. Now, don't get her wrong. She is worried about you, and she actually tried to search for you one time, but couldn't find you even if she was looked around for 3 hours.

Suguru was looking at the floor with an unreadable expression, the trio was just sitting around and doing nothing other than joking around with eachother. But Suguru felt off, one month ago, as everyone was hanging out together, Haibara said he never saw you smile. You just shrugged and told them "There's nothin' funny.", then Satoru and Haibara teamed up to make you smile, making dumb expressions and making Nanami sigh out of disappointment. ((It didn't make you smile at all.))

Suguru started to notice; how you would look out of window deep in thought, how you would disappear after the missions, how you would stare with an unreadable gaze when Suguru and Satoru laughed at their own jokes. Suguru opened up about this to Satoru, and he said he saw you sitting with your head down with fists clenched once. Now, Suguru was a smart man, he could connect the dots but he couldn't understand you. Not when he doesn't even know when your birthday is—

Wait.

"Do you guys know Y/N's birthday?" Suguru suddenly asked, Satoru and Shoko shared a look before opening their mouths to reply—

Wait, did you ever mentioned your birth date?

"...I..don't.." Shoko felt ashamed, beacuse you knew everything about her. How she liked her coffee, which foods she prefered, the clothes she liked to wear, the movies she liked to watch..and she doesn't even know your birthday? Satoru was wearing a similar expression, he actually opened up to you about his problems. How everyone was expecting him to be the best, how he felt too much pressure on his shoulders, how people didn't see him as Satoru but as Gojo. You comforted him, you put yourself in his place and both of you talked shit about higher-ups for the next hours. Then you turned to him and said :

"People sucks, the only thing they know is how to talk. You could feel like you're the only one and nobody is there for you, but you're not alone Satoru."

Oh how great he felt after you said those words, he noticed you were actually very good at empathizing. Probably the only thing he knows about you besides your name and age.

"I can't believe after all these years, the only thing we know about them is that their name and age." Satoru said, looking at the ceiling. Suguru sighed and texted you for the 28th time, you didn't respond, you never did.

"I think we need to confront them about it, maybe there is something going on that they can't bring themselfs to tell us." Suguru said, looking up from his phone to see his friends. Shoko sighed and shook her head.

"Maybe If you two are the ones confront them, I think they're closer to the both of you than us." Shoko said, lighting up a cigarette. Suguru and Satoru shared a look before nodding, they were going to talk about this when they had the chance.

"Where were you yesterday? We called you like, 40 times?" Satoru frowned, slightly glaring at you as he poked your cheek. Suguru nodded, wanting to hear your excuse too.

"My phone was on silent, I didn't really notice it." you said, clearly avoiding the real question. They both frowned, the three of you were sitting at a table, eating some snacks that you paid for. You came back after disappearing for 10 hours and they took the chance to talk about your problems, but there was an issue, you refused to tell them anything about yourself.

"And? Where were you when you were not at school? We even searched for you." Suguru said, watching as you sighed and took a sip of your cold water. You were clearly thinking of a way out of here.

"Does it really matter? Why are you asking me questions anyway, I thought this was a date and not an interrogation." you said, trying to cover yourself with a flirty sentence. To your surprise, it didn't work this time.

"Tell us the truth or I'm really going to use my cursed technique on your liar ass." Satoru said and rolled his eyes, you never saw him this serious. Ugh, these questions are really overwhelming you.

"..."

"Why the fuck do you want to know about me? It's really starting to get annoying."

They both stared at you with a 'don't give us that shit right now' stare, you groaned and looked at the ceiling. Thinking if you really should tell them, you really don't like to talk about yourself, and about your own problems? Ah, hell no. You don't want to open up to anyone until the day you die.

"After I use my cursed technique, well, it hurts me both physically and mentally I guess. I don't want to show that side of me to you guys so I just...hide. Where I go is none of your business." Their eyes widened, so that's why you always disappear after missions? Suguru was in deep thought, so that's why you didn't want to fight curses if not necessary. And why you always had a painkiller in your pocket. This was bad, why didn't they notice you were hurting? Were they that blind?

"Then why are you a jujutsu sorcerer you dumb fuck? You—You're an important friend to everyone in that damned place! What if you die beacuse of it, huh?!" Satoru shouted, he really wanted to punch you in the face so you would realize that—

"Do I look like I wanna continue living?" you asked, looking away from them. Fuck, you were not supposed to say that. Now they'll blame themselves beacuse they didn't notice it earlier or some shit like that.((they were actually blaming themselves))

"..."

There was a silence at the table for the next 2 minutes, both Suguru and Satoru looking at you with shock. Suguru wanted to speak, but he didn't know what to say. How could they help you in any way? You clearly didn't want to talk about it any more than it is. Satoru was having a hard time understanding what you meant, you always pushed people to not give up and talk about their problems beacuse 'It would hurt more if you bottled it up.'((your words, not his.)) So how come you made them fight for their life when you already gave up your own? Why did you lie?

"Idiot. You're a total idiot." Satoru said quietly then raised his hand and smacked your head, you were actually surprised, just as you raised your head to tell him to fuck off Suguru smacked your head too.

"What the-"

"And you still have the audacity to face us? Shit head." Satoru rolled his eyes and hugged you, his hold on you very tight. Suguru held your hand and squeezed it to give you comfort.

"You were there anytime we needed you, so let us do the same alright?" Suguru said as Satoru let go of you, you noticed his eyes were a bit teary. Suguru was smiling but you could tell he was sad you didn't told them anything. What was this? Were you actually feeling loved? Nah, that was not your thing. Then what was this warm feeling in your chest? Damn it, why did you felt like crying?

To both Suguru and Satoru's surprise, you laughed. You had a nice laugh, they thought.

"You both are—really making me feel fuzzy and soft." You smiled and hugged them both, Suguru chuckled and hugged you back as Satoru felt nice you ruffled his hair while you hugged him.

Everything was good for now.

((I'M SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO POST😭😭😭))

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celtic-crossbow · 18 days

Text

Blood Ties Chapter 25

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Poorly written smut; Pregnancy symptoms; Pregnancy exams; Mild angst

A/N: I hope others laugh at this as hard as I did while writing it. Even if you don't, it's okay. I was greatly amused and I'm not ashamed.

Another cold night, but at least the house was on a hill and surrounded by trees on most sides; a large structure with a gated driveway. The fire was roaring and everyone was bedding down for the night in the same room since the last few times of sleeping in different rooms or on different levels had proven problematic when quick escape was needed. Carol chose to lay closer to the fireplace so you and Daryl could have the bedroll to yourselves—when you actually chose to go to bed.

“Has anyone seen Daryl or Y/N?” Lori asked after laying an extra blanket on your bedroll.

“She probably had to pee again.” Carl giggled from his sleeping bag.

“Do you need something, Lori?” Carol sat up, hugging herself from the cool air when her blanket fell a little. Carol knew exactly where the two of you were and she would make sure you were left alone there.

You had gone from touch me not straight into don’t stop touching me. While Daryl felt pride in the fact that you only had eyes for him, he may or may not have been beginning to wonder if you could possibly break his dick. It had been nearly three straight days of a constant desire for him. That day alone, you had begged him to take you straight into the upstairs bathroom of the huge house and stuff you with three fingers, fucking two orgasms from you within moments. The two of you had filed back in with everyone else before your absence was even noticed.

Everything had barely been brought from the vehicles before you were saying you needed to pee, tapping one finger against the middle of Daryl’s palm as you took his hand. A clear signal. Five minutes later, you were bouncing on his cock (with a little help) while he was sprawled out by a tree.

And now, Daryl was panting harshly, not even bothering to tuck himself away before or after he slid down the wall and landed on his ass. You were still bent over the sink, thighs a sticky mess, his spend leaking from your deliciously abused cunt. Grabbing your panties, leggings, and sweats to drag them up over your hips was almost impossible. Almost. You dared not ask your poor partner.

You had been insatiable for him, needing his hands on you constantly. You seemed to be in a perpetual state of arousal, and god did he feel good. He had not complained a single time, even when it was clear he was tired or worried about something else. He took care of you first and foremost. And well, he was getting laid, so it wasn’t like he got nothing out of the deal. But as you turned to face him in that very moment, he just looked wrecked. Like if he tried to satisfy your urges one more time, he might literally die. With a fond smile, you stepped toward his outstretched legs and tapped the sole of his boot with the toe of your own.

“Get up.” The look he gave you from beneath his lashes wasn’t angry. Far from it. It was reluctant and exhausted but he began to lever himself upright without a word, one corner of his mouth drawing upward for a brief moment when he was standing before you, seemingly awaiting your command. God, you had to admit that it was causing some seriously hard to ignore feelings in an area that had many times already been thoroughly fucked. You kept your eyes on his even as his pretty blues followed your hands toward his cock. He made no move to pull away or complain but you could have sworn you saw his entire body melt when you began to gingerly tuck him away. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.” You planted a kiss on his cheek. After everything he’d done for and to you that day, it was the gratitude that made him blush. You couldn’t have stopped the giggle if you tried. “Let’s go get some sleep, okay?”

“Ya good, then?” His hand came to rest on your hip, eyes questioning.

“I’m better than good, Daryl. You,on the other hand, are about to fall asleep standing.” The archer didn’t argue. He must have known he was swaying on his feet. Driving and lugging around supplies and taking care of you, he had to be bone-weary. Regardless of your discomfort, the ache already returning in full force, you wanted him to rest. He was trying so hard to take better care of himself at your request—eating full meals, sleeping a little more, wearing more clothing when hunting so he stayed warm—that you didn’t want to be the cause of fucking up all you had worked so hard to instill in him. “Come on, sleep time for you.”

He simply nodded and let himself be led from the room with quite the yawn. It was all eyes on you the moment the two of you stepped foot inside the large den, the warmth of the fire overwhelming any anxiety the stares could have even remotely caused. Arousal was quickly dampened by the lure of impending sleep and warmth. Dary was not taking watch, set to hunt the next morning, so you’d have him to yourself all night.

He let you under the blankets first, assisting you down until you were situated on your side. When he climbed in after you, he took his usual position and angled himself so that your belly could rest on his stomach and hip while you could curl right into his chest. As wound up as you had been only moments before, your body was now succumbing to the siren call of sleep. You just needed to take care of one more thing.

“Daryl?”

“Hmm?” Even that simple acknowledgement was somehow slurred. You had really worn him out.

“Sleep late and then go hunting, okay?” You wondered how hard you’d need to fight him. He gave in on a great many things as the pregnancy progressed and you became more and more uncomfortable, but hunting was his time to recharge. You didn’t want to take that away from him, but you were also afraid of him spiraling back into bad habits.

“Okay.” He breathed, sounding more than half asleep. You blinked against his chest. So, you just needed to fuck him senseless to get him to agree to important things. Noted.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

“I love you.”

He was already softly snoring, his warm breath disturbing your hair.

When you awoke, the sun’s warmth could not compare to the heat of the flames from the night before, but it was still welcome. It meant you had survived into another day. The fact that you were still firmly pressed against Daryl was an absolute bonus. It was well into the morning and he was still absolutely sound asleep. You weren’t worried that he was sick, even if the others most likely had their concerns. They were all accustomed to greeting him when they stepped outside to start the day or finding him completely absent on a hunt. You knew exactly why he slept late.

You felt him inhale deeply and begin to stir, grumbling something you didn’t understand. Pulling away to stretch, you felt a tug on your skin, drawing your attention to your chest, where your shirt had pulled from your flesh but was still stuck to Daryl’s button-up. “What the fuck?” The mortified look on the archer’s face said that he was thinking the same thing you were. You didn’t remember cum getting on your shirt or his, but you weren’t exactly thinking straight either. “Where’s your bag?”

Daryl jerked his chin toward the area just behind you. The man may have opened up around you and Carol but if anyone else saw this, even if they didn’t choose to laugh or tease—which was unlikely—you feared that Daryl would shut down and pull away from you.

“And mine?” You asked, biting your lip.

He cleared his throat, the sound stuttering. “S’there too.” His back was to everyone but he’d know who was there. He had a way of identifying people through breath and footfall that was truly impressive. You, on the other hand, had to crane your neck to scope out the area. Carol was putting away some leftovers the best way she could. Lori was sitting with Carl, a math book on the kid’s lap. Glenn was laughing with Maggie in the doorway. Too many people. Daryl would likely run away, never to be seen again.

“Okay, first thing’s first.” You pried the articles of clothing apart, wincing at the nearly imperceptible sound that was likely heard by no one but sounded like a chainsaw to your ears. “I’m gonna go under the blankets so you can reach my bag for a different sweater. May as well grab your shirt while you’re there.”

“Gonna think you’re suckin’ my—”

“Well, you have two choices.” You whispered. “We can get up, grab our clothes to go change, and hope for the best. But we will have to walk past Glenn.” You peered around Daryl’s head to find Glenn and Maggie exactly where they had been, only T-Dog had joined them. “Or we can try and change under these blankets. I’ll giggle and mention Thumper, and they won’t think anything of it.”

“Right.” Dary didn’t seem convinced but kept the blankets high over both of you while he reached across your head, snagging both of your bags by the small strap at the top. He dragged them over and riffled through them, swallowing convulsively while pulling out shirts for each of you. “Got ‘em.”

“Okay, this might be a little tricky, but it’s doable.”

It was indeed tricky, but it was also indeed doable. The blankets were over your heads as you changed, with your originally planned giggles easily shifting into real ones. Thumper had joined the party and seemed to be aiming for their dad’s crotch each time your bodies touched. You could have sworn you heard a huff of a laugh from Daryl a couple of times as well. With a chuckle of hold still, you made sure the buttons of your partner’s shirt were even and patted his chest.

“All jizz free.” You whispered with a nod, feeling his fingers brush your skin while he pulled your pale blue, long sleeved t-shirt down to cover your belly.

“Gross.”

“You say that like it’s been in your mouth before.” The look on his face had you laughing out loud and Daryl throwing back the blankets before the others could assume anything more was happening. The archer clambered off the bedroll and stretched, then held out a hand to you. You swatted it away. “I’m gonna stay here for a bit. My back hurts.”

“Whatever.” He shrugged. “M’goin’ huntin’. Ya stay close to ev’ryone else, ya hear?”

“I will. I promise.” When you met his eyes, they were full of such softness that you could almost feel it on your skin. He was taking each promise you made to heart and trusting you to keep them. And you would, even if staying inside made your skin crawl sometimes. Hell, being outside made your skin crawl. With the hormones taking over, you were fighting a losing battle, so you might as well choose the side that kept you and Thumper safe.

“Alright then. Be back ‘fore dark.” Daryl grabbed his crossbow from against the nearest wall, brushing a hand over the top of your head before it latched onto the top of his bag to hoist it off the floor, his gaze still meeting yours. “Promise.”

So this was a thing now. Promises between you. It both terrified you and filled your heart to the point of nearly bursting. You gave him a nod whilst fighting back the tears you knew would come the moment he was out of sight. He didn’t need to worry that he’d done something wrong. And he would because Daryl was still learning how to process anything that didn’t hurt. He was definitely still working on his social skills if his bark of what’re ya lookin’ at toward Glenn was anything to go by. Both he and Maggie looked at you with wide eyes but you just waved it off.

“Ignore him. He doesn’t know how to people. You know that.”

“Well, he sure knows how to Y/N.” Maggie chided, smiling as she sat down next to you. You chuckled nervously, struggling to sit up so you could shove the dirty clothing into your bag.

“Shush. We just get each other and it was a long road to get to this point. Plus, I think he likes Thumper just a little.” The baby was active, already missing Daryl’s presence which would never cease to amaze you. “Who’s doing laundry today? I’d like to help.”

Maggie was already shaking her head before you could finish speaking. “Daddy needs to check you out. You’re almost 36 weeks, Y/N. You could go into labor anytime. Ask him what you can do and what you can’t and then we’ll worry about laundry.” You made a whining noise in the back of your throat and almost plopped back down on the bedroll but thought better of it at the last minute. It took so much effort to sit back up.

“Fine. Can he come now?” You sighed.

Maggie gave you a comforting smile and squeezed your shoulder. “Sure. Let me go get him.”

You nodded with a tight-lipped smile. She was absolutely right. Thumper’s arrival was growing closer and closer by the day; the hour even. And you were scared. What if something went wrong? You’d seen in the movies that the baby could get stuck. The cord could be wrapped around their little neck. Your pelvic structure could prohibit a natural birth and you would need a cesarean section. Were there even supplies for that? What about sedation or local anesthetic? What if Daryl decided then that it was all too much and ran? You couldn’t do any of it without him, you knew that now.

“Easy, young lady.” Hershel soothed, already having knelt beside you at some point. “You’re white as a sheet and hyperventilating.”

“S–sorry. I’m okay.” You stammered, leaning back on your hands so he would have access to your belly. “Just— I’m scared shitless, Hershel.” As per usual, his steady hands hovered until you nodded your permission for him to roll up your shirt. The moment the cool air hit your skin, there was movement below it, a hand or foot pushing up hard enough that you could actually see it.

“Well, they’re definitely active.” The old man chuckled. “Let’s see if we can check the heartbeat around all that wiggling.” You laughed but it was real, muffled by the fear welling up in your chest. “Well, the heartbeat is great. I need to do an examination, both external and internal. I will explain everything before proceeding. Would you be alright with that? We can go in the downstairs bedroom with Maggie or Beth if you would be more comfortable.”

Maggie was already leaning in the doorway with Glenn, giving you a nod that she was fine with being present. “Yeah, okay.” You started trying to get up on your own but that proved to be futile. Before you could even ask, Glenn was holding out both hands. “Thank you.” You whispered. This was all so personal and it felt like you shouldn’t be going through any of it alone. “Has—did Daryl leave already?”

“He may still be outside. Rick grabbed him for something. I’ll go check.” The words came out so fast that you barely caught them before Glenn was gone and Maggie was helping you lie down.

“I mean, can this wait if he isn't here? I don’t—” The tears came before you had any means of stopping them. You couldn’t sit back up without assistance so you just pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes and sobbed, chest heaving and body trembling. You wanted Daryl, after trying so hard to prove you could handle things without him. You needed him.

“The hell’d ya do to ‘er?!”

You had never been so relieved to hear that irritated tone. Gasping for air, you reached blindly for him, his hands wrapping around your forearms to pull you up and against his chest.

“Nothing, son. We were going to do an exam to check the baby.” You opened your eyes to see Hershel standing several feet back with his hands up, palms out. Maggie wasn’t glaring but she looked serious, ready to defend her father. “It would be invasive and she was frightened. We wouldn’t have done anything without her permission.”

“I just—wanted you—I wanted you here.” You hiccupped, gripping his shirt tighter. There was a jerk of his body and then the sound of the door closing. You were alone with him.

“M’here.” He didn’t move other than to pull you in tighter, the hold would have been uncomfortable any other time but it was exactly what you needed at that moment. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

“He—he needed to do something inside. It wasn’t that—I didn't think he was gonna hurt me and Maggie was here, but it just felt like something you should be here for too. Like a huge event in all this.” You sniffled, wiggling a hand free after a bit of struggle so that you could wipe your face on your sleeve. “I’m sorry, I know you wanted to hunt.”

“Nuh uh. Wanna be here more. The fuck he need to go inside for?” Now he sounded more than irritated, as if Hershel was trying to take advantage of you in some way.

“There’s gonna be a lot of that, I think. I mean, if everything goes well, the baby’s coming out of my vagina, so I guess he needs to be all up in there to make sure it’s ready or something? Doesn’t it mention this in one of your books?” You pushed against his chest, but he hesitated in letting go. Finally, he dropped his arms but kept a hand on the top of your stomach. Thumper’s movements slowed to flutters.

“Ain’t had much time for readin’, Sunshine.”

You were in the middle of rubbing your eyes when you slid them to the side, your nose scrunching and mouth tilting into a smile. “Sunshine?”

“S’that or ‘pain in my ass’. I ain’t picky.” He huffed, picking at a thread on his tattered button-up.

“I’ll take Sunshine, thanks. You’re adorable, Daryl Dixon.”

“Ugh, don’t get sappy.” He curled his lip, pulling away when you reached for his face.

“You already took it way past sappy, sir.” When he kept that small distance, you grabbed his collar and tugged him forward to press a kiss to his mouth. He reciprocated without hesitance, a small reassurance you reveled in when it came to your relationship. “Thank you for not running.”

“Ain’t a pussy. Told ya from the get-go that we’d handle it.” His forehead was against yours, the tip of his nose nuzzling your own. “Called ya Sunshine back then too.”

“That, you did.” You recalled the memory fondly. God, he was such an asshole back then. Still was in some ways but he was yours. You distantly wondered if he always had been. “Just needed a little help bringing out the inner romantic.”

“Don’t push it. Don’t got a romantic bone in my body.”

You hummed, done with teasing him for the moment. “I guess we should let Hershel do what he needs to and get it over with.” You bit your lip, sliding it back and forth between your teeth. “Will you stay?”

“Course.” His knuckles gently grazed your jaw and then he was up and opening the door, jerking his head toward you to invite them back inside. “Don’t make ‘er cry again.” He warned, taking his spot beside you and helping you lie back.

Hershel only smiled. “I’ll try my best, son.” Maggie wasn’t there but came in, carrying a bowl of water and a cloth, before the old man could do anything. “There’s a couple of things I need to examine. First, I’ll do an external examination. I’m going to palpate your abdomen, feel the position of the baby. At this stage in the pregnancy, we want to ensure the baby is turning into a head down position. They should come out head first, not feet. Is it alright for me to continue?”

You nodded quickly. With Daryl there, the anxiety was held at bay. The man formed a physical wall between you and the fear that wanted to suffocate you, whether he knew it or not. He was watching intensely as your shirt was lifted, the veterinarian’s hands moving with a knowledge you were surprised to find he possessed given he had only dealt with animals. He was likely reading just as Daryl had, probably more.

You winced when it seemed he was squeezing around the baby’s form, though the touch was gentle, feeling Daryl tense beside you. Your hand found his immediately and he settled.

“Ev’rything good, doc?” The archer’s voice was just shy of a snap. He muttered an apology when you squeezed his fingers.

“It seems the baby has mostly turned to the correct position. Have you felt any increase in pelvic pressure or need to urinate?”

“She’s been pissin’ like a racehorse for weeks.” Daryl huffed, earning an elbow to the ribs.

“No more than usual.” You clarified. Hershel nodded.

“It’s unlikely that the baby has dropped then. I have limited experience with human patients but I have had wives that gave me children. When they dropped, it was described to me as a sudden weight deeper in the pelvis. They could breathe easier and felt hungrier, as there was more room in the upper abdomen. The need to urinate increased even more than it already had throughout the pregnancy.” You were nodding, Daryl was squinting, soaking it all in and filing it away. “Just let me know when you feel those changes, okay?”

“Okay.” You answered quietly, this time feeling Daryl squeezing your fingers.

“This next part will be invasive, and I’m sorry for that. I need to check your cervix, see if it’s softening or dilating.” When Daryl didn’t comment, you were sure those were terms he had read. You vaguely knew what they meant from the movies you had seen. “I can have Maggie remove your—”

“I got it.” Daryl interjected, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles before releasing your hand. You watched him move, biting your lip when he pressed one knee between your feet and reached to grab the waistband of your layers, bringing all three down in motion. You had to think of anything else to keep Hershel from seeing what Daryl had the ability to do to you. Placing your clothes by your feet, the bowman cleared his throat. “Make it quick.”

Hershel smiled and shook his head while washing his hands with the soap and water Maggie had brought but he said nothing about Daryl’s protectiveness. Perhaps he understood how fragile the archer’s ability to handle his emotions truly was, and with that knowledge, he saw no reason to put further strain on the young man.

“I’m going to begin the pelvic exam now. It might be a little uncomfortable.”

“Okay.” You took a deep breath, closing your eyes with a smile when Daryl’s arm wiggled beneath you to wrap around your shoulders. Hershel was right, it truly was uncomfortable. It wasn’t at all like what you had imagined, which to be quite honest, you thought it would be more like being fingered by Daryl. This was in no way pleasurable. First of all, it was Hershel. Secondly, there was pushing down just below the baby while at the same time, moving two fingers. It wasn't just uncomfortable. It was really uncomfortable. At one point, you whimpered ow and had to grab Daryl’s forearm to keep him from lashing out.

Finally, it was over. Hershel was washing his hands again. “The cervix is softening, which is exactly what we want at this stage according to my reading. You’re not dilated, which is also what we’d like right now. That could begin to change in a few days, and that would be okay. There’s no way of really knowing exactly how far along you are but based on what I know of you, and keeping up with the calendar the best I could, you are right at 36 weeks.” You nodded, smiling softly as Daryl reached forward to push your knee down, urging you to close your legs even while he never looked away from the old man.

“That’s good, right?” You asked, struggling to sit up until Daryl looped an arm behind you again and easily got you there.

“That’s wonderful. It’s my opinion, which isn’t the best mind you, that you could safely have this baby anytime now.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, watching all the color drain from Daryl’s face beside you. “Daryl?”

“You alright, son?” Hershel’s expression showed concern but his eyes were laughing. He knew the look on Daryl’s face and he knew it well. “It’s okay to be nervous. You’re a first time father. It will be—”

“G’on, old man. M’fine.”

You chuckled. “Thank you, Hershel. I feel a lot—” Moving to sit up straighter, you looked down when you felt cold against your skin. Two quarter-sized wet patches were clear on your pale blue shirt, just over your nipples. “What the hell?” Even Maggie’s eyebrows were raised. Daryl just looked as puzzled as you did.

“That’s colostrum.” The old vet answered as if you knew what the fuck that meant. “It’s the first thing your breasts produce to feed the baby when it’s born, before the actual milk comes in. This is a good sign that your body is getting ready.”

“Like—soon?” You gulped.

“It doesn’t have an effect on the timeline, one way or another. It just means your body knows what it’s doing. You may want to ask for some breast pads on the next run or just fold some cloth for your bra.”

“Wait—so that wasn’t cum?” It was out of your mouth before you had processed a single word of it. Hershel’s brow furrowed, Maggie doubled over laughing, and poor Daryl was three seconds from jumping out the window. “I’m just—oh god, just leave us to die in here, thanks.” You could still hear Maggie laughing after the door closed but luckily she had nodded in reaction to your pleading look to keep it to herself. When you looked at him, Daryl's elbows were on his knees and his face was in his hands. You could see the red flush traveling all the way to his ears. “It wasn’t jizz. Yay?”

“Just—stop talkin’.”

“I love you.”

“So ya keep sayin’.”

#murda writes #blood ties #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #pregnant!reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n

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anythingagency · 6 months

Text

thinking about how there is so much love in bridge to the turnabout. pearl organised the trip because she wanted to do something nice for maya. phoenix tried to cross the bridge out of fear for his best friend's safety. larry called edgeworth because he knew how much he and phoenix trust each other, and it was all he could think of to help. edgeworth dropped everything, risked his job and took the attorney's badge for phoenix, but also on some level for iris – a girl he didn't even know. franziska travelled halfway across the world not only for miles but for his best friend, too (even if she'd never admit it). she stepped in to be by phoenix's side when he was alone and sick and maya and pearl were nowhere to be seen. phoenix comforted edgeworth without a second thought after the earthquake, even when the latter was ashamed and convinced he had made a complete fool of himself. elise came back after 15 years to protect her daughter and died for her. godot killed and maya lied both for mia's sake, even though she wasn't around to see it. iris ultimately got sent down because of her love for her sister and phoenix stuck around anyway because despite everything he doesn't resent her. maya wouldn't let herself be upset for pearl, and pearl went out of her way to go back to hazakura to fix the scroll for maya. it's about tenderness, it's about care, it's about unconditional trust

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #bridge to the turnabout

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flowerandblood · 2 months

Text

Glass Cuts Deepest Epilogue

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, trauma, mention of sexual harassment and panic attacks, the power of fluff ]

[ description: Aemond and Wright have a year of their relationship behind them, full of joy, but also difficult situations for them, related to demons from his past. Despite this, they find their own ways to live normally and happily. Aemond, jealous that Cregan is now her professor, decides to find out if the girl who changed his life still loves him. Sexual tension, childhood traumas and sweet fluff. ]

This oneshot is the events that take place one year after Glass Cuts Deepest Series. This is a special chapter written to celebrate my one year on this platform, which falls on March 22.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

When a year had passed since he and Wright had officially announced that they were together, he was relieved to find that his panic attacks had almost disappeared, and if they did occur, they no longer involved vomiting and convulsions, causing only discomfort and a feeling of tightness in his stomach.

Wright was perfectly capable of recognising its symptoms, spotting instantly when he froze or turned pale, not touching him at the time, just asking quietly if he needed a moment alone or if he would like her to embrace him.

More and more often he wanted to simply cuddle up to her, so he would then ask her to let him, but not to touch him herself. He would then draw her close and sink his face into her neck, taking in her wonderful scent, listening to her breathing until he calmed down.

"− I'm sorry −" He mumbled then, ashamed that, as usual, he thought he had got it over with, that it was so good after all. He fought then against the grim thoughts that he would never be normal, that she had to live with someone who didn't cope, who was constantly afraid.

"− don't apologise −" She whispered softly, resting her cheek on his head, playing with the fingers of her hand, waiting patiently for him to be able to function normally again.

"− I'm glad that now when you feel unwell, you don't feel discomfort when I'm close − it's very important to me −" She said warmly, kissing his hair, and he felt his muscles relax slowly − the fact that she never made sudden movements, never tried to embrace him against his will, made him feel safe.

She respected the fact that he knew for himself what was good for him and what he needed, and she never forced him into anything − on the contrary, she always carefully studied his barriers.

Once when she showed him a picture of a nightgown, finding it lovely and pretty, white, lacy and strapless, of slippery, shiny material − he turned pale and shook his head quickly, looking away, seeing her enter his room then, what she was wearing was all too similar in his mind, a cold sweat on his back.

"− oh, I'm sorry − I won't show you this kind of things anymore − I just − I'd like to buy myself some nice pyjamas − the kind you'd like −" She muttered, looking up at him, turning on the couch − he sighed quietly, rubbing her bare legs that rested on his thighs.

"− I like it when you wear my Tshirts − nothing turns me on more −" He hummed, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, seeing her blush as she lay dressed in his black shirt covering her thighs − he knew she had nothing but panties underneath, just the way he liked it.

"− oh −" She mumbled quietly, embarrassed, pretending to scroll something further on her phone.

Since he had left the university and focused on his own studio, he felt that the immense frustration that had been with him all those years, of having to deal with strange women, having to constantly explain his decisions and apologise for the way he was, had left him.

In his new workshop, more spacious and brighter than the one he had worked in before, he felt free, and the only girl who was allowed inside was Wright.

Sometimes he couldn't help himself and would ask her how Cregan was doing in his job, seeing that she was progressing more and more each month, jealous that now someone else was her professor − she was spending a lot of time in class which was hard for him to come to terms with after they had spent so much time in each other's company up to that point.

"He is a really good teacher. He has a lot of patience and explains complicated things so that they seem simple, or he shows us something by doing it himself and we can watch." She said lightly, standing beside him, helping him cut out templates for his new commission, which he was working on with some of his former students he had hired. He hit the side of her cheek with the tip of his tongue, impatient for some reason.

"That's good." He replied dispassionately, feeling her cast him a quick glance upon hearing the tone of his voice, leaning lower to bend forward and look at his face.

"Are you jealous, Professor?" She hummed softly and he pressed his lips together, recognising that he hadn't given a shit, that he'd wanted to do this for a long time.

She squealed quietly as he grabbed her by the arm and turned her around facing the backlit table − his hands slid her panties down in a swift, sure movement, leaving her in a state of shock, his hand on the nape of her neck forced her to bend over. The material of her dress lifted slightly, revealing her naked buttocks − he noticed out of the corner of his eye her puffy entrance, glistening from her wetness.

She was his Eve, and although neither of them had ever completely undressed, and he wasn't sure he would ever be able to do so or endure such a sight without the memories overwhelming him, the sight of her partial nudity no longer frightened him, for her body was his temple, pure, warm and safe.

"− I've been thinking about this ever since I met you − you don't even know how many times I've stood over you barely restraining myself from fucking you good on a table like this −" He breathed out, quickly unzipping his trousers, lowering them a tad once with his boxers, not waiting a moment, forcing the swollen head of his cock between her swollen, weeping folds.

"− wider − that's it − fuck − are you okay? −" He muttered, casting her an uncertain look after he thrust deeper into her, sliding all the way in, her tight walls resisting him as he hadn't prepared her for this as well as usual.

"− y-yes − keep going − just − take it slow −" She mumbled softly, and he hummed under his breath, leaning down, placing his hands on either side of her on the backlit top of his table on which he usually cut glass, his lips pressed against her long, perfumed neck as his hips began to rock slowly inside her, barely sliding out of her without any rush, letting her walls get used to his size.

"− so warm − fuck, baby −" He gasped out, hearing her first shy moans, feeling his cock slide into her with increasing ease, slick with her moisture, her muscles began to throb around him, squeezing him − he looked down, watching as he opened her wide with deep, sure thrusts of his hips.

"− please, Professor − please −" She mewled and he sighed loudly; she knew how it affected him, she knew how much it aroused him − he involuntarily picked up his pace, his thighs began to slam against her buttocks with loud splats, all around them just their panting and the sticky clicks of her leaking wetness.

"− you have no shame − begging for your Professor's cock − is this how you got good grades at university? huh? − you like it when they fuck you well? −" He sneered, clamping his hands over her bare buttocks, letting go of control completely, allowing his subconscious to take over him and his movements, his pushes faster and more aggressive, rubbing her where she needed it. She leaned back on her palms against the table top, responding to his thrusts by rocking her hips, her hot, wet muscles sucking him inside with her moans of delight.

"− n-no − I work so hard −" She muttered frightened, as if some part of her really believed he could think that about her − he chuckled under his breath, running his hand through her hair, pounding into her so fast and deep that he was no longer sliding out of her with loud slaps of skin against skin.

"− I can see how hard you're working − how much it costs you to fit it in −" He scoffed, and she whimpered at his words, responding more and more eagerly to his thrusts, his knee spreading her thighs wider, forcing her to bend over again with her loud gasp of exertion.

"− I-I'm sorry − I promise I'll be good already, I promise, I promise, I promise −" She mewled, moaning low as he felt her muscles begin to throb in orgasm, her body arching backwards. He embraced her around the waist, his other hand gripping her cheeks, his lips pressed against hers in an aggressive, greedy, hot kiss as, after a few sloppy, messy thrusts, he came deep inside her with a heavy sigh of delight.

"− I know − my sweet little girl, am I right? −" He gasped, panting loudly along with her, embracing her tightly from behind, nuzzling his cheek against hers, her hands clasped around his arms, stroking them steadily, his half-hard manhood still twitching deep inside her.

"− yes −" She mumbled, burying her face in his cheek, as she always did after their rapprochement, needing his closeness and the tenderness he never denied her.

"− you don't think of him that way, do you? −" He asked quietly, ashamed of his insecurity, of his own fear and imaginings, of the fact that someone else, someone better could easily take his place at her side when he needed her so much, loved her so much.

"− oh, no, silly − I never felt anything like that before you − I think I was in love with you long before I realised it −" She said warmly, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, a sweet, girlish smile full of tenderness on her lips that melted his heart, his confirmation that all was well.

"− yes − yes, me too −" He murmured, leaning lower, placing warm, wet kisses on her face. He began to wonder intensely if the ring he had chosen for her, which lay tucked deep in one of his drawers where he kept his designs was still there, and if he would be a complete idiot to propose to her now.

After a moment he decided that yes, he would be a complete idiot and sighed quietly, smiling involuntarily under his breath, sliding out of her gently. He helped her put her panties back on over her buttocks, then zipped up his trousers, looking at her out of the corner of his eye − she turned to face him, all red from exertion, her eyes big, her breathing still slightly accelerated.

"Take me today to the church where you first saw the stained glass windows. You told me that story once, I think you mentioned that your father took you there." He said softly and she blinked, curious, cocking her head, leaning her palms against the edge of the table.

"Alright, why not, Professor. Where did you suddenly get this idea?" She asked cheerfully, excitedly, and he snorted under his breath.

"You'll see."

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pupyuj · 4 months

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YUJIN WITH AN UNNIE KINK 👹

OHHH 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 this ask was sent a while back but i had some time to think about it and yeah… YEAHHH…

yujin knows everyone thinks she’s an idiot despite having this big position as the leader so when she comes across the starry-eyed starship trainee (whose favorite idol happens to be yujin) (y/n)… well, she became obsessed! 🥰

you kinda-sorta took over as the leader of the trainees in starship when gaeul debuted so you had this aura of level-headedness and maturity in you.. but that all evaporates into nothing when yujin was in your vicinity! you had such an absurd amount of respect for her and you made it known every other time you and yujin would bump into each other in the company building and chat for a bit! you were so nice and friendly and so adorable 🥺 but you practically worshipped the ground yujin walked on… so yujin knew you were messed up deep inside your head… and all she needs to do is bring that beast out in the only way her perverted ass knew how!

offering to help you with your practice and your routines every time she so happens to pass by your favourite dance room in the building… her touches getting more and more bold as time went on but you didn’t really care to, well, care bcs yujinnie was just helping you out, right?? so what if she was basically groping your ass! 😵‍💫 god, you were so easy to manipulate it almost made yujin mad but at least it’s a fact that you’ll only be an idiot for her 🫣 to everyone else you’d be the same old reliable (y/n) who’s very serious about making her dreams come true someday but when it comes it yujin… well, you were nothing until she makes you into something, is what she decided!

how could she not try to break you down, anyway? your sweet voice calling out to her every time she was around was enough to get her panties soaked and she wasn’t even joking!

“good afternoon, yujin-unnie!”

“yujin-unnie, i saw your recent performance! you were amazing.”

“yujin-unnie, i thought you looked gorgeous in that last photoshoot you did!”

‘unnie’ is what really gets her though 😵‍💫 lots of people call her ‘unnie’ now but something about you, specifically, saying it just does something to her brain… and it was nothing good! fuck, she’d jokingly film a short vlog with you to showcase your daily trainee life and she’d fuck herself while listening to your voice… she’s that obsessed 😳😳 see she’d have this great elaborate plan to turn you into her little slutty doll but you’d unfortunately catch her on a bad day one day and suddenly you’d find herself alone with her on a small, empty room in the building and she’s sitting on a chair while you’re on her lap, sobbing and crying from both pleasure and pain while your favourite unnie fucks your cunt relentlessly 😔

your confusion regarding the situation wasn’t helping either… it turned yujin on how confused and embarrassed and ashamed you were… holding her face close to your chest, hugging her while she took out all of her stress on you… “always knew you’d be so willing to do this… you love unnie that much, don’t you, baby?” she’d ask, grinning up at you just to see you blushing and nodding your head bcs as much as you hated this, it was true! your admiration towards yujin was never completely innocent, so you couldn’t resist all this… why would you anyway? this was one of your biggest dreams aside from debuting.

yujinnie moaning with you while you came… not even letting you catch your breath before she was laying you down on the floor and fucking you again… this time faster and harder bcs that string of “unnie”s that you let out just for her was too fucking addicting 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 she’d fuck you until you were nearly all spent, laying on the floor holding onto only the tiniest bit of your consciousness before yujin takes your hands and pulls you up… letting you see how she’s stripped herself of her pants and underwear and has taken a seat back on the chair… spreading her legs wide open and beckoning you over… 😳

“come on… don’t keep unnie waiting any longer.”

oh, how you worked that tongued on her cunt…you know what? yujin can say that you were the best risk she’s ever taken 🤭🤭

#ive smut #ive x fem reader #ive x reader #ive imagines #ahn yujin smut #ahn yujin x reader #ahn yujin x fem reader #ahn yujin imagines #yujin smut #yujin x reader #yujin x fem reader #yujin imagines #girl group smut #girl group x reader #girl group x fem reader #girl group imagines

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storydays · 2 months

Text

Hazbin Hotel: Episode 1 p1

Overture

@avatar_lover

(3rd POV)

"Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and shielded all from evil. Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation. But he was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of Heaven.

For they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world. So he watched as the angels began to expand the universe in their ways. From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith. Equals as the first of mankind, but despite this, Adam demanded control and Lilith refused.

Drawn in by her fierce independence, Lucifer found her and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love. Together, they wished to share the magic of free will with humanity, offering the fruit of knowledge to Adam’s new bride, Eve, who gladly accepted.

But this gift came with a curse.

For with this single gift, evil finally found its way to Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin, and the order Heaven worked hard to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his love into the dark pit he created, never allowing him to see the good that came from Humanity, only the cruel and the wicked.

Ashamed, Lucifer lost his will to dream.

But Lilith thrived, empowering a demon-kind with her voice and her songs. And as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power. Threatened by this, Heaven made a truly heartless decision, that every year, they would send down an army: an extermination to ensure Hell and its sinners could never rise against them.

But Lilth’s hope remained. And her dream was passed down to their precious children, the Prince and Princess of Hell.”

A pale hand closed the story book, as a young woman held a key close to her, looking downcast. “Don’t worry Mom, I’ll make you proud.” She whispered, gazing out the window, listening to the screams outside.

“Charlie?” a voice called startling the young woman. “Augh!” she yelped, as her key turned into a cat, who ran away to hide. Charlie winced before turning to the other woman, “Vaggie! Did you hear all that?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah. I was standing right there.” smiled the woman, pointing at the door. “Sorry, I get pretty worked up after an extermination happens. The story helps.” Charlie frowned, staring at the book. “I know, don’t worry. I enjoy your theatrics. Are you okay?” Vaggie asked, sitting next to the blonde demoness. “I’m fine, just–ya know thinking about family stuff.” “DId you hear your from your mom yet?” Charlie shook her head sadly.

“Oof, how long has it been now?”

“Not that long…only…..seven….years. Off doing something important, I’m sure.” Together the women stood up, to look outside the window. “But this kingdom was something she really cared about; something I care about.” Charlie hugged herself, smiling wistfully.

“Well, at least you’re not alone.” Vaggie soothed, holding Charlie’s hands.”I just hope that what I’m trying to do here will work.” Charlie admitted. “It will. I have faith in you.” the white haired woman smiled, cupping Charlie’s cheek.

“All right, come on. Alastor says he’s got something he wants to show us.” Vaggie walked out of the room, Charlie going to follow her, before hearing the church bell ring outside. She turned to look out at the clock as it rang, signaling the end of the extermination. Charlie sighed before heading downstairs.

*Downstairs*

“Well, hello there, you wayward sinner!” A cheery voice, on the television, called out to a demon currently stabbing another on the street, making the two look around confusedly. “Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do, that’s why you’re in Hell! But what would you say if there was a place that had none of that?” questioned the voice as more sinners popped up, varying emotions from annoyance to confusion. The camera then zoomed to reveal the hotel.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! A misguided path to redemption!” the camera then pushed into Charlie’s personal space as she was mid conversation, before she noticed the camera and she smiled and waved nervously. A spider demon appeared behind her, using all four of his hands to give the demoness bunny ears behind her head and on the side. “Founded 5 days ago by Lucifer’s delusional daughter, Charlotte Morningstar! Come place your faith in her inexperienced hands as she tries to work through her daddy issues by fixing you!”

The television showed a picture of Lucifer facing away from Charile as she hugged herself, tears in her eyes. Then it showed Charlie attempting to convince sinners to join.

“Here we offer fun things! Such as somewhat functional staff.” The camera showed a grumpy cat demon who was clearly drunk as he face planted into the bar. A little cyclops woman scurried around him, chasing a bug with a giant needle in her arm, with a maniacal grin on her face, as she attempted to stab the bug.

“24 hour pest control! Custom rooms, and just look at this tacky parlor!” The camera panned out to show a piece of wood falling near the spider demon from earlier who was lounging on a couch, clearly bored as he examined his finger nails. “Enjoy riveting conversation with our singular resident.”

The spider sent the camera a middle finger, making an effect of the word Wow appear on screen, changing to show a crudely drawing of the hotel with different notes and smiley faces with a large toothy grin. “Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel. Your last desperate attempt at salvation starts here!” On the screen, appeared: “Call now or don’t! I don’t care! We still don’t have a working phone!”

The TV shut off as the audience in the room sat around, emotions varying from anger, shock, and disbelief. “So, what’d ya think?”asked a grinning deer demon, dressed head to toe in red and black.

“I’m sorry, what the FUCK was that?” scowled Vaggie, arms crossed. “Uh, yeah, one note. Alastor…” Charlie started, ignoring how the demon’s smile tightened. “I mean, first off, thank you so much for making this, seriously, amazing, but um..” Charlie played with her fingers as she tried to explain her thoughts, “The tone was maybe a bit..off?” Alastor tilted his head as she continued.

“We want people to WANT to come here. This makes it look–um..” “Bad. The word you’re looking for is bad.” Vaggie snarled, crossing her arms.

“Funny, I was going for hilarious!” Alastor laughed. “It didn’t explain anything about how we’re trying to save demons, which is the whole fucking point!”

“Vaggie is right, Alastor. The commercial was to let sinners know we are trying to save them.” called a smooth voice from another armchair. The male was sitting on the chair, his legs over the arm of the chair, and the cat from earlier purring in his arms, as he stroked her back. This was the Prince of Hell, Heir to the Throne, and Charlie’s big brother, (Y/N).

“Well, my dear (Y/N), I haven’t been active in Hell for some time, and everyone remembers me from my radio show. The proper way to express oneself!” Alastor turned to the TV with a clear disdain written over his ever grinning face.

“But you insisted on this noisy picture box advertisement. So I had a little fun with it.” “Oh fun, you had a little fun?” Vaggie snapped, before standing. “Well, this is not what we want to represent us. When you showed up here, a week ago, you told us you would help run this hotel. Instead, you’re mocking us. Nobody’s going to want to come to a place that a powerful Overlord like you thinks is a waste of time.” Vaggie hissed before the 4 noticed a red hand waving in the air.

“What?” snapped Vaggie as (Y/N) started to walk towards the bar.

“If’n you’re filimin’ a commercial, can I suggest you take advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?” The spider demon from earlier, sat up lazily, grabbing the bottle of alcohol with him, and winked at the people, gesturing to himself.

“Angel, you’re a porn star.” Vaggie deadpanned.

“A famous porn star.” Corrected Angel, as (Y/N) came back and sat next to the spider, with a strawberry Daiquiri in his hand.

“I’ll have the horniest sinners knockin’ down these walls to get in.” The white furred spider grinned smugly, before swinging his legs over (Y/N)’s lap, clearly comfortable. “We are not shooting a porn as a commerical.” Vaggie said firmly.

“Why not? Sex sells, don’t it?” Angel winked. “I swear, if you film me going at it with Sexy Princey or Mr FancyTalk Creep Voice here, you’d be rollin’ in participants to stay at this tacky hotel.”. Alastor laughed loudly before deadpanning. “Haha! Never going to happen.”

The bespectacled prince cleared his throat nervously, cheeks a slight red as he tried to compose himself. “A-Angel, we appreciate you wanting to use your ‘special skills’ to, um, attract folks to the hotel. But I–WE, meant to say WE don’t want to exploit you in that way.”

(Y/N) smiled at the spider demon who grinned, leaning into the prince’s space, close to his ear, and purred, “But what if I want you to exploit me……..Daddy?” “HAHA! OKAY!”

(Y/N) yelped, before using his wings to quickly fly up and over by the bar, startling Angel who then smirked knowingly at the demon.

Turning towards the girls, Angel continued to talk, “This body was made to be exploited, baby. I’ve got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs, I got the lung capacity. Oh, oh! I have the legs, the gag reflex, the holes, the chest fluff everyone thinks are tits..” Charlie laughed uncomfortably as Angel continued talking.

(Y/N)’s phone started ringing, making the prince roll his eyes and walk away, answering his phone. “I’ll be right back.”

He turned the corner, and grinned deviously as he answered the phone, “What up, bitch!”

*Back with the others*

“Hey, I have a question. If freaky face over there is so powerful, then why can’t he just make people stay here?” Angel asked suddenly, pointing at Alastor.

“Oh trust me, I can.” Alastor grinned darkly, briefly showing his horns.

“Why do you think I’m here?” A gruff voice called from the bar, making everyone turn to the bar, towards the grumpy cat from earlier.

“You think I’d be cleaning bottles and listen to you fucks’ bitch and moan, if he wasn’t forcing me.” The bartender hissed as the little cyclops appeared next to him, grinning.

“I like being forced.” She giggled.

“Keep that to yourself, Niff.” grimaced the cat demon.

“What, you don’t love being here with me, Whiskers?” Angel mocked, making a kissy face.

“Call me whiskers again, and I’ll jam that bottle down your throat.” the cat threatened.

“Kinky! C’mon, keep talking dirty.” grinned Angel, narrowing his eyes at the cat.

“Angel, let Husk do his job. And no, we can’t force people to stay here; they need to choose to.” Vaggie stated.

“I’m choosing to be here, and I think it’s all stupid. We’re in Hell, toots.” Angel shrugged, “That’s kind of the end of the line, ain’t it?”

“Well, maybe it doesn’t have to be.” Charlie smiled. “Just because no one’s ever made it out, doesn’t mean it’s not possible.”

Angel placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder as he leaned down to her height. “Hey, whatever means I can keep crashing here rent free.” The women shot him a deadpanned look, and he scowled. “Crack is expensive.”

(Y/N) quickly came and grabbed Charlie by the arm, grinning excitedly. “Char, come with me!” Charlie yelped as her brother pulled her around the corner.

“Woah, (Y/N), what’s going on?”

“So the leader of the Angel Army wants to meet…and I managed to convince Dad to let me send you to talk to them instead.”

Charlie tilted her head. “Why me? You usually take care of stuff like that.”

“Because, Char, you are the princess of Hell,and I think you’re old enough to start partaking in stuff like this. And.. you can use this as an opportunity to try to convince Heaven to give your Hotel a chance. “ (Y/N) prompted.

“Ooh! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Charlie hugged her brother before rushing to tell Vaggie. (Y/N) going to lean on the couch, as Vaggie questioned Charlie. “But the extermination just happened. What could they want this soon after?”

Charlie started singing and twirled Vaggie who replied dizzily, “Okay but just don’t sing to them.”

“That bitch is half way down the street.” (Y/N) and Angel laughed, with the others looking out the door, watching the princess sing.

“Is she–?” Vaggie asked, worriedly.

“Oh, she’s dancin’.” Angel tossed his head back, drinking the bottle in his hands, ignoring Vaggie’s groan.

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goldsbitch · 4 months

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That one call overseas

part 7 to That one Christmas flight

summary: Now that we don't talk.

warning: pure angst this time, cheesy af, swear words I guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely

The hole Y/N dug for herself was getting deeper with each day of no contact with Lando. Gone was her ability to contain her emotions within herself. Her friends were getting concerned. Their ever so calm and easy going friend turned into an impulsive, unreliable and even slightly rude menace.

Teresa was the one who kept patience with her in the worst days, as only the best of friends do. When Y/N got kicked out of a bar for the first time in her life for her comments in lousy bad Italian on a random couple in the late hours of their Friday night, Teresa walked her home and screamed Hits Different with her at the top of their lungs to ease the atmosphere. And once they were home, she listened to Y/N rant about how she would never ever call the asshole who does not even bother to text her again. Teresa also stopped her from throwing his hoodie away, knowing that the following morning would hurt just a little more.

When Y/N woke up the following noon, she took a hard look in the mirror. This was getting ridiculous. She swore to herself and all of her roommates that no more alcohol and no more Lando desperation. It's a crush - it'll pass. One day this will be a nice story to tell the kids she'll have with some Antonio, the accountant or Ignacio, the lawyer. Not Lando, the racer - and that was ok.

Lando was off to Montreal and things could not be more busy for him. New updates to test, again, as his frustration grew. He only wished to be finally at the top podium, which seemed to always slip in between his hands. His mind, of course, was clouded by the thoughts of Y/N. At first he thought ashamed of himself for not reaching out and appearing like an asshole - but he somewhat expected her to break the silence. He started to second guess every aspect of the time they shared together. Perhaps she did not have as great time as he had, perhaps he acted like an asshole, or perhaps he just was not good enough for those who were not under the F1 charm spell. Not good enough for her. He finally resorted into doing something he tries to avoid as much as possible - looked at the fan pages and comments to boost his ego up. It only led to him feeling more shameful and pathetic than when he started. He kept her necklace and brought it with him. For all it was worth, he had an amazing memory to look back at, no matter how delusional he felt doing that.

The paddock was a great place to be at when searching for a distraction, so he made sure to spend as little time as possible alone and surrounded himself with people. He even walked to the stands often than he usually would, searching fans and giving photos out, smiling a little to extra on all the girls who looked remotely close to Y/N. Who knows, he might pick up someone like that at the end of Montreal ride. Why not. Nobody was stopping him.

He went to the race with all he had, fully prepped and focused. However, red flags, poor strategy choice had him finishing way below the targeted place. To his luck, Oscar was on a roll of luck and finished way better compared to Lando - and of course that everyone compared. Debrief meetings like that drown the soul more than usually.

Influx of all the journalists was overwhelming that day. The interview fatigue hit hard and after few of those, Lando felt that based on the questions he was asked, everyone thought of this race like a massive fail for him. His own answers continually worsened.

"Why do you think this week has ended the way it did?" asked one of the more prominent interviewers.

"Well, you know how it is. Sometimes the week just does not go the way you'd wish, even if last weekend it seemed like we're on a track to something good. One things affects the other and getting out of that rut is challenging."

"Are you talking about the updates, or something different?"

"Yeah, something like that. But as they say, when life gives you lemons, right. Make lemonade...or limoncello for a rainy day, ey?"

"Well, we hope to see the cheerful Lando soon and ideally at a podium too!" Lando knew the interviewer was only doing his job and technically she was not doing anything wrong, but he could not help and for a split second let his face do a look, that was certainly not appropriate for someone who was so used to media and knew he had to be smart around them.

He was in no mood to watch a celebration of Oscar or to get wrapped up in the post race chaos. Once he felt free to leave, he did, putting his phone on don't disturbe mode and went for a walk around the city with his headphones on, to dwelve in some sad tunes and solitude of his own thoughts.

Y/N asked Teresa to punch her anytime she looked like she was about to search Lando news. Her roommate refused to do that as it would be a full time job, but did help her set up some tags to block. Saturday was a success, however once Sunday evening and race time rolled in, Y/N knew she was absolutely not ready to try and ignore it. So instead they made a girls evening in about it. The idea was to replace real memories with Lando for race watching and distance him. They were trying... So they sat together with their study books to combine distractions. Y/N was explaining the race rules, avoiding any personal remarks about Lando. To her own disappointment, he was not featured a lot as there was not much really going on for him during the race. But maybe it was for the best. It really felt alienating, seeing his face on the screen, a character in the story of F1, so far removed from the unfiltered smiling face she had burned in her memory. The mood in the apartment was calm, maybe a little mellow. There was a weird calmness in Y/N, as she knew for a fact that he was busy. Knowing that she will definitely not get any text and that he was not ignoring her was soothing for the soul, even if for just few hours. At the end, the girls had way better time than expected, Teresa taking the initiative to comment on all the rest of the drivers and ranking them based on looks and vibes. She became a Leclerc girl all the way in.

"Right, that's my cue to go to the bathroom," Y/N stood up as the post race interviews rolled in. That would be too much at the moment.

"Love the drama vibes you give off. I'll watch it and let you know if there was anything alarming," Teresa assured her.

"Doubt that," was the bitter response she received back.

Once Y/N came back, she returned to her friend sitting with a puzzled look.

"What?!" all the pent up emotions took the stage, all the hard worked stillness gone as if it was a dream.

Teresa sat in silence, looking bluntly at the screen.

"What??!" Y/N repeated impatiently. "Ugh, forget this charade. I'll just watch it." This all felt like she had passed the test, but hadn't learned the lesson at all.

"Yeah, maybe you should. Interesting, his voice is higher that I imagined," Teresa replied as Y/N became to rewind the stream. They sat in silence, as they watched post race Lando in his tiredness, obvious annoyance and visible dark circles under his eyes. A shock went through Y/N at the word limoncello.

"Y/N, it must a coincidence. He's just been to Italy, so the connection was there...means probably nothing," Teresa said quietly as she watched her bewildered friend.

"Limoncello. Name a more Italian drink...What the fuck?? Is he joking right now? What is this?"

"Y/N, he has no idea you're watching, remember?"

"Yeah, I don't care about that. Makes it even worse actually." She replayed his interview once again.

"Ok, that's it - I'm taking this away from you," Teresa ordered after she saw Y/N going for a third round of the interview. "Do you wanna talk about it, talk it through?" So they went on to the kitchen, cooked some pasta while Y/N went on a rant where she let all her thoughts let loose.

"Honestly, fuck him. I don't need the mess he brings into my life. I can find great sex on every corner in this city!"

"Yeah, you go girl!"

"You know what, I'm gonna call him!" Y/N turned directions again for 17th time that day.

"Yeah, I kind of thought you would," Teresa sighed tiredly. "And I think you should, the worst thing you might get is a peace of mind...eventually."

"Yeah, I'm gonna do it! Now!"

She dialed his number. The phone rang for the first time. The second and third. With the seventh dial, she hung up. The girls looked at each and Teresa went for a hug.

"He might be busy with some racing stuff?" Teresa said in a tone which suggested that she herself had a hard time believing.

"I'm so stupid," Y/N whispered.

Of course he would miss it. Obviously. Because that just what seems to follow him and this girl around. It was deep evening over at her timezone, but still ok for a late night talk. He called back. What was he even planning on saying? He had no idea. When she did not pick up, he called for a second time. She picked up his facetime call and to say his heart skipped a beat would be an understatement. His heart triple jumped. A face appeared in low light. She smiled.

"Hey you," he opened with. The word honey almost slipped his tongue, but he was not sure how it would be received on the other side of the line.

She waved and gestured him to be silent. Lando was bewildered.

"Where are you?" he whispered, trying to unsucesfully figure out from her background. Again, he was met with a shush. Well, this will be real fun, Lando thought, slightly annoyed.

"Wait, you have me in your earbuds...so you need to be silent, not me!" Y/N frowned and nodded. She got up from where she was sitting and started walking.

"Well, since I have some guaranteed no interruption time, let me fill your ears with a story! There once was a beautiful girl, who talked so much and was so obnoxious that the city decided to ban her from speaking. Luckily, she found the most handsome guy in the town to keep her company with his wit, charm and great looks. To reward him for his services she sent him-"

"Ok, you can STOP now," she exclaimed, as she walked down the stairs.

"Where the fuck are you at this hour, young lady. Someone should seriously keep an eye on you!"

"Yeah, well, I sometimes think the same - and then I'm suddenly sitting in some random hotel room hundreds of miles away from where I was supposed to be," she winked at him. "No, I was at the church."

"Oh...you religious? Wait, are the churches still open?"

"Yes, silly. It's Italy, one always is. And no, I'm not religious per say."

"Oh, well then it makes perfect sense that you're hanging out in churches at midnight, yes."

"Yeah, you know. One gets bored."

"Ok, weirdo," Lando laughed.

"No, I like to go there to clear my head. There is some magic in the architecture and in the old walls," she explained. She really did go to get her head clear, to think it out. "Oh, and one day, I'd like to fuck in like a really old building. Not church exactly, but like I dunno. Our university halls are making me super hot sometimes." She had no idea why this was the first thing she'd pick as a topic. God, she felt lame.

"Well, that would be a hard thing to decline, if you're offering."

"Cheeky as ever, are we?"

"Obviously. So, tell me. Whats up? It's nice to see you by the way. I wanted to tell you that before you shushed me down so politely."

"Aw, nice to see you too, man." Lando would prefer to be called differently. "Some school stuff, completely blew my Monday's presentation, so that was fun."

"You should have studied in the weekend, hmm!"

"Yes! I should have," she had a hard time keeping the smiles in, "Anyway, otherwise it's been pretty much a lot of nothing."

"So you called me because you're bored and not because you wanted to talk to me?" He knew he was pushing it. But desperate times... She hesitated and shot him a strange look he could not decipher.

"Did you know we also have leaning tower here in Bologna?" Y/N panned the phone to show him one of the two towers in the city centre. She was walking around with no apparent destination. "Have you been here?"

Lando smiled weakly. There was a strange frustration regarding the distance he felt towards her. Not the physical miles. "Yeah, I've been there once." His Bologna trip was not exactly a great memory. Maybe this call had been a mistake. The last thing he needed now was to feel strange. He showed her the park he had been walking in.

"I'm in Montreal! Have you been?" Y/N also felt some strange vibes coming through this dry conversation

"No, but sounds fun."

"Not really. There has been a lot of pressure at me lately. I'm starting to hate it. Can't say it to anyone, nobody seems to get it." He looked off to Y/N from the start of the phone call. She took few breaths to triple check that she really wanted to break the elephant in the room. It somehow seemed like a "now or never" situation.

"Saw the race today." Lando paused. He suddenly felt the most vulnerable he had ever felt with her. Did she know him from the first moment? Was she lying? He had a hard time gathering out a response. She felt that, so she started blabbering. The cat was out of the bag, so what the hell.

"I broke our rule after we met. Not immediately! But I just...it felt nice meeting you. And I had no idea about racing beforehand. I overheard your name once and I was like "there can't have been two sets of parents naming their child Lando in this century". She looked at his puzzled face. "I'm sorry." Range of emotions floated through Lando, who was particularly sensitive today. It was only a matter of time when she'd find out who he was, he knew the day had to come at some point. But there was a part of him that wanted him to be the one to tell her. To tell his side of the story first, before she could get it elsewhere. He only had to trust her that she wasn't lying from the start. Very few people liked him for him and not "the racer Lando Norris".

But then again, who was he judge? He practically stalked her down - no, not practically, he actually tracked her down. Why did he do that? Because he was wonderstuck too. He liked her. So that meant that she liked him too. Sense of pride took over.

"Don't say sorry. You look too cute doing that," se said feeling braver now and less like a teenager with a crush. "Nah, it's ok. Wanted to spare you of the NDA, but I guess too late now." The more he came to terms with the fact he was not an enigma anymore, the more confident he became. "I mean, I was the one to find you even though you're not exactly famous, so..."

"Yeah!" she said as if she forgot that. "See, bordeline creepy," she laughed, obviously feeling relieved that he hadn't hung up the phone. "But, it's you, so I guess cute?"

"I'd say it's a little problematic on both parts, so we're even, honey."

She laughed. The looks they shared were a little more intimate than their previous looks. A sense of warmth washed over Y/N.

"It's funny. Do you know when I was in Bologna?"

"Ha, I do actually. My friends saw you at a bar."

"Yes...That's not exactly a coincidence. I wanted to "bump" into you accidentally."

She bit her lip down and closed her eyes. Took a deep breath and replied: "Do you know what was also a massive fail?"

He shook his head.

"I was at Imola. I wanted to "bump" into you accidentally."

Silence followed, as the two idiots took the new information in. Butterflies flying all over Bologna and Montreal.

"I think it's time we stopped dancing around and start being clear with each other or we'll start to look really stupid," Lando stated after a moment.

"Agree, Lando."

"Great, Y/N. I want to see you again soon."

"Me too."

They talked for another hour. Chatting lightly around about this and that, heart racing, not pushing more boundaries anymore that night, as the leap felt big enough to hardly swallow for them at the time. Y/N had final exams so the next weekend was a no go for her. But they agreed she'll come over to Spain, as he calendar was clear until the summer. Apart from seeing each other, confidentiality was a big thing for both of them. They barely knew each other, even if it had felt differently every time they talked.

Y/N was unable to relax that night, as the line "I can't wait to kiss you again," which Lando said instead of a goodbye, burned in her mind with the brightest of all flames. Some people were never destined to be friends.

part 8

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Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1 @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother @goldenharrysworld @llando4norris @classiclitfreak @ophcelia @leclerc13 @starmanv @k4r1402 @biitch-with-wifi @drunk-teens-doing-drugs

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ch-4-eri · 2 months

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LOVE POTIONS — Jill Valentine.

best friend’s mom! jill X female reader.

warnings: 18+ mdni!! age gap (don’t say i didn’t warn you) oral, dirty talk, hints at the reader being a virgin if you squint. i don’t know if i’m missing anything let me know.

word count: 1.4k

i’m so sick for this, i’ll go to hell on my own, don’t fuck your friend’s mothers guys. but do enjoy this.

you couldn’t explain it, even if you wanted, the whole thing was messy from the beginning.

it was supposed to be something innocent, completely harmless and has no threat to anyone in your life or yourself.

or your best friend.

if only you never met his mother, Jill Valentine, government agent, and a former RPD S.T.A.R.S member.

but god, you didn’t think it through.

didn’t think your attitude and the way you looked at the woman were entirely calculated, jill knew.

this woman has a love for details and reading you, every time you came over; what you’d say and what’d you do, what you’re wearing.

she’d show you she’s busy, working documents and important things for the BSAA, jill to you was just a best friend’s mother.

but you both had one hell of an unspoken sexual tension.

which you tried to hide, tried to shove in the back of your mind as your age gap is fucking nuts and you always worry someone would read your mind which isn’t even a realistic idea, but still, you were too anxious to act on it, even alone, self awareness preventing you from being able to stay in your head for long.

but jill on the other hand… when every time she analysed you, how you talk, how you act, your ass in your tiny skirts drives her fucking crazy enough she finds herself unable to sleep, her hand inside her shorts as she’s pumping herself up at the thought of you with her hand covering her mouth.

surely she felt ashamed, a woman her age acting and thinking like this, she felt so much guilt and shame for operating like a damn teenage boy riling with hormones over a girls ass in a skirt.

a girl her son’s age.

she knew if he ever found her out, he’d hate her forever and she can’t afford losing him, not after fighting for his custody for many years with her ex husband.

but that’s not what she had in mind that day, when she had you splayed down her bed so late at night, her fingers in your mouth as she ate you out like no tomorrow, your legs on her shoulders, your moans muffled by her thick fingers pressing down your tongue, drooling all over them.

“taste’s so good..” jill groaned against your clit, her mouth engulfing you, sending your back arching, she pulls away and sits up, making you ache at the loss of contact and the warmth you felt between your legs.

jill removed her fingers from your mouth, wiping your saliva off them down her bedsheets, going on her knees to meet your eyes as you were so lost in the feeling of pleasure you never got from anyone else other than this woman, a woman you shouldn’t even be doing this with.

but neither of you were even thinking of that right now.

jill had your chin in her palm as you opened your eyes, your breathing shaky and heavy, drool covering your chin as you smelled like sex and vanilla to the older woman’s nostrils.

“i want you to sit on my face, yeah? can you do that for me?” jill smirked, licking her lips with the tongue you want to be inside you again so badly.

you nodded eagerly, the thought of having her mouth against your pussy again was driving you mad with chills coursing through your body. “mhm.. yes please.” you begged, your eyes staring into hers pleadingly, like a lost puppy. fucked up enough.

jill patted your legs, lying down on the mattress of her huge bed, she wasn’t wearing anything other than her lacey bra and underwear, she was a fucking sight, you’d drool on her looks alone. even for a woman her age, she was damn delicious and you couldn’t get your eyes off her as you went on your knees and crawled to her.

she prepared the seat that was her face you were going to be sitting on for the next many minutes, hopefully hours if it were up to the older woman. moving her short brown hair away from her blue eyes you’d drown in.

as you made it closer to her, you were a bit nervous, a question rolling around your head you had to make sure of, you had to ask, as silly as it made you sound to a woman with so much experience.

“do i sit or hover?” you asked, your voice betraying you, your cheeks rosy and lips red and swollen.

jill chuckled, like she was making fun of you. “sit.” she demands. “i want you to suffocate me.” jill added, taking a hold of your thigh as she brought you closer with her strong grip.

“i want you to cum in my mouth.. am i clear, sweet girl?” she demanded as soon as you gasped, raising an eyebrow at your hesitation.

“y-yes..” you nodded like the puppy you are, you weren’t going to upset her, you hated to refuse jill.

and jill hated it when you refused her.

you finally scooted up to jill’s head, placing a knee next to her head, the other doing the same as you lowered your body so your wet pussy made contact with her nose, both of you let out a sigh while jill’s hands positioned you properly on her face, and as soon as you felt her tongue lick a long stripe up your sopping wet hole you let out a sickeningly pornographic moan, your hands grabbing at the headboard of her bed.

“ah.. jill..” you breathed, your thighs squeezing the older woman’s head, her tongue sucking and licking at your hole as she made it her sole purpose for you to cum in her mouth and if she keeps this up you’re gonna do it more than once, not that jill would complain.

her strong hands gripped your ass so tight, her tongue brutally slamming inside of you, as was her nose, sliding it up and down which drew pathetic moans out of you.

jill was humming, groaning into you, making your legs shake and your thighs closing in on her, and you were worried you were hurting her even though jill was having a fucking blast, she adored those damn thighs, if she suffocateds and dies like this it’ll all be worth it.

“please.. can’t take this anymore.” you cried out, making jill just suck at your clit like a starved woman, her body humming and shivering as she was desperate to get touched as well, rubbing her thighs together while her hands reached your hips in a bruising grip.

you were shuddering and whimpering, your legs so weak as you didn’t want to put your full weight on the woman’s face. “jill..” you moaned as she flicked her tongue against your sopping walls, your thighs filled with goosebumps.

“i’m..” you start, your lower belly so tight with a burning sensation that you were so close to your release, jill positioned you right into her mouth as she knew you were close, drinking you up as you finally gushed your orgasm down her mouth like she wanted.

“mmm..” jill mumbled, swallowing every last bit of what you can give her, you tasted like heaven, fucking delicious.

you were trying to catch your breath, your heart hammering against your rib cage as jill patted your thigh.

you weakly pulled your knee away from her head, your legs were shaking like crazy, your center so sensitive and puffy.

“i bet you can’t walk now, huh?” jill joked, sitting up on her elbows, her cheeks red from the heat of being between your thighs for as long as she just was, her nose and her lips shiny and sticky from your release and you were so sick for thinking she looked so darn good with your cum on her face.

you gulped, heat rushing into your cheeks at her words. “just a little sore.” you mumbled shyly, like you weren’t just seated on her face.

“a little sore hm? come here for me..” jill gestured for you to come closer to her. “you think you can just rest without returning the favour?”

jill smirked and brushed your hair away from your face, brushing two fingers against your hardened nipples.

“i know you can’t handle me sitting on your face… i’m afraid i’d break you entirely… but you have fingers don’t you?”

she says in a suggestive tone, grabbing your nipple into her mouth, your eyes closing at the sensation, your hands going into her hair as a moan escaped you.

jill took your hand and brought it near her panties.

then she pulled away with a pop, her blue eyes staring into yours so intensely. “now be a good girl and touch me.”

oh boy you’re screwed.

#jill valentine x female reader #jill valentine x you #jill valentine x reader #jill valentine smut #jill valentine #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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