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#someone liked this and reminded me of it-
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If It All Fell (7)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst, PINING, Azriel's POV and he is incredibly sad
a/n: Yay here's more <3 I promise it gets happy and there's a little teaser of what that'll look like in this part. Let me know what you think pleaseee :)
Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)
~~
Azriel 
Azriel’s heart came to a thudding halt.
“What was that?” he asked softly, trying to play it off. Trying to pretend as if you hadn’t just asked him the one question he had hoped would never come. Because you were supposed to get better before it came to this. 
He had begged the Mother for any kind of reprieve.
She hadn’t listened, as Azriel had expected. 
“Mates,” you slurred, your head bobbing on his shoulder. The High Lords had exhausted you. “Helion said you… he said something about a mate. I can’t remember exactly… but no one’s told me what that is.” 
Pure adoration tore at Azriel’s chest. Your words blurred together as you sunk deeper into his arms, and Gods, did he love you. He let himself imagine that you were drunk—just for a moment. You were drunk and still his and he was carrying you home after a night at Rita’s. 
“Azriel?” 
The moment ended and panic replaced the temporary comfort that had consumed him. 
“Yes, my love?” It had slipped, a mistake fueled by his clouded mind. Azriel counted his footsteps and held his breath, but you only hummed in response, too drained to notice the endearment that had fallen with such desperation from his lips. 
“You were telling m’about mates,” you reminded him. Your arm slipped from his neck and landed in your lap. Azriel held you closer, feeling your body begin to lose its grip. 
“Of course,” he dutifully replied. “A mate is… it is a gift from the cauldron. An equal to share a bond with.”
“Like a lover?”
Azriel could hardly piece your words together with the way they tumbled out. 
That, and his stomach was twisting, reminding him of the very bond that was crying out within him. This was wrong. It was all so terribly wrong. He didn’t have to have this conversation with you last time; it had hurt you too much to even hint at the topic. 
Back then, Azriel had been so deep in anguish he couldn't keep food down, so desperate to just speak to you that his body rejected all else. 
This was somehow worse.
“Much stronger,” he whispered, pressing his nose to your temple in an act of weakness. You didn’t notice. “Our souls are linked—mates I mean. A mating bond doesn’t always lead to the pair being lovers, but if they choose to do so, it’s enhanced. It’s unexplainable, truly, having someone connected to you that you love so deeply.” 
“That sounds nice,” you mused, a melodic flow of syllables starkly contrasting the effort with which Azriel was trying to string his sentences together. 
“It is.” He gave in to his urges and looked down at you in his arms, your hair flushed against his leathers, your face soft and drowsy. “It is wonderful.” 
You cracked an eye open. Azriel had stopped walking. “Do you have one?” 
“What?” he choked out. 
“You speak as if you know the feeling well. Do you have a mate, Azriel?” 
“I—” There were no thoughts in his head, nothing but the sound of your voice and your question repeating itself like a bell tolling in a vicious pattern. “Yes,” he sputtered out. “I do, yes.” 
You smiled softly, but it was paired with a furrowed brow and a light sigh. “Good,” you nodded to yourself. “You deserve a mate.” 
Too much talking, too much thinking; your head lulled into his arm, face against his chest, and you were asleep. 
Yes, this was much worse than the last time. 
Azriel adjusted his grip and carried you back to the room you didn’t know belonged to the both of you. 
~~
The pounding in your head was your first indication that you were awake. You moved your hand to your hairline before opening your eyes, applying pressure in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure there. 
Useless. 
A small groan made its way up your throat. The night before, or whenever it was—you had no idea how long you’d been sleeping—was a jumbled mess in your mind. You remembered meeting Helion, being told you were in love with him, being told that you actually weren’t in love with him, and then he and Rhysand had entered your mind and left you as nothing more than a vegetable. 
There were other pieces too, like Azriel carrying you back to your room and talking about… mates? Yes, that sounded right—the larger-than-life, effervescent partners bestowed upon fae by the cauldron. 
And he had told you that he had one. 
That was good. Great, even. Something stirred within you, an uncomfortable feeling, but you ignored it in favor of the pain radiating across your head. Gods, why did it hurt so much? 
Helion and Rhysand had been in your mind. They were going to discuss things with you. 
You shot up far too quickly, the motion sending shooting pains up your neck. 
“What?” you heard a voice panic. “What is it? Are you hurt?” 
Another jarring look to the side and you just about passed out from the pain. You caught a glimpse of Azriel before you squeezed your eyes shut to try and manage it, his large form folded into a chair by the door that was certainly not made to accommodate wings. You lowered your head into your hands and heard the chair screech against the floor. 
“What is it, y/n?” Azriel asked, voice closer now. 
You let out a shaky sigh. “Sorry, just—it’s my head, give me a moment.” 
He didn’t speak, but the room became dark. That seemed like an impossible feat, with the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the walls and letting in the rays of the day court sun. But the pounding in your head receded a fraction, and you could tell it was dimmer even from behind your eyelids. 
“Does that help?” he asked, so low you could barely hear him. 
You felt his breath at your arm. 
“Yes,” you whispered back, and when you opened your eyes, Azriel was there. His wings had circled you, encasing you in a darkness that blocked out the world, his knees at the side of your bed. 
“You got up too quickly,” Azriel offered.
“I know, but I wanted to hear what the High Lords had to say about the witch and my memories and what I need to do to fix everything. Have you heard anything?”
“Very little. I’ve been here.” 
“For how long?” 
“You slept for a day and a half.” 
“And you stayed the entire time?” 
“You requested I stay by your side. You’ve been here.” 
You bit into your lip, the heavy weight of guilt loading onto your chest. Azriel flinched as if he felt it himself. “I wanted to stay,” he comforted. “It puts me at ease to… see you while we’re in this court. To know exactly where you are and who’s around you.” 
“Because of last time,” you stated, but it was a question that hung in the air. 
Azriel’s eyes tracked along the planes of your face. His hand twitched. “Yes, because of last time.” 
He looked so serious, bordering on forlorn. Despite the pain in your head and the conflicting emotions rising within you, you attempted to lessen some of the load that seemed to bogg the shadowsinger down. 
“You could have taken shifts with Cassian, you know. Or even, I don’t know, laid on the bed that’s the size of a small apartment. I was out cold the entire time—didn’t wake up once. I wouldn’t have noticed if you did,” you offered with a hint of a smirk playing at your lips. 
Azriel’s gaze dropped to your mouth, his own expression lightening. “Cassian would fall asleep immediately. And, just to let you know, you did wake up. Several times.” 
You gave him a doubtful look. “I think I would remember that.” 
The shadowsinger bit back a smile and something within you shone at the playful look in his eye. “Right, so you don’t remember waking up and practically ripping that from my body?” 
His eyes shot down to your chest, an action which you followed to find a large, unfamiliar sweater swathing your body in warmth. You looked further down at your hands, only to find the sleeves of the garment covering your palms and fingers as well. 
An incredulous laugh bubbled in your chest. “I wouldn’t—I didn’t actually rip this off of you, did I?” 
Azriel shifted his knees into a kneeling position beside you, his wings shuffling and creating a sound you had begun to find comfort in. “Well, you didn’t exactly ask politely.” 
You groaned and shoved your face back into your hands. “Gods, that’s embarrassing. It’s because I was delirious, I swear. Those damn High Lords scrambled my brain.” 
“Y/n, you have a penchant for demanding things in your sleep. Food, water, clothing, more blankets. Once you woke up to ask me for an entire roast duck and in the morning you had no recollection. You were quite aggravated that night.” 
“No, stop, I can’t take this. I am melting into a puddle of mortification and you are making it worse.” 
Azriel chuckled. “It’s alright. I’ve grown used to it over the years. It’s almost charming, really.” 
You peeked through your sweater-clad fingers. “You can’t mean that.” 
“I mean it very sincerely. When you are sick or unwell, you sleep through the entire night. When you wake up and grab the neck of my sweater like you’re robbing me, I know things are okay.” 
You groaned again, this time tilting your head back and immediately regretting the action when a pulse of pain permeated along your temples. But it wasn’t so bad anymore; Azriel and his wings made it better. 
You took a moment to gaze upon his face in the proximity. He was smiling slightly, some humor still shining in his hazel eyes. The occasional shadow made a pass along his cheeks and by his ear, whispering secrets you weren’t privy to and then coming to wind around your body as well. His hair was mused and untamed, landing in soft patterns across his forehead. 
Azriel was so beautiful it hurt. 
“Does your mate ever get upset that we are so close?” you asked, the question not even fully formed in your head before it entered the space.
The smile slipped from Azriel’s lips and you regretted your impulsivity almost instantly. 
“No,” he answered, a slight shake of his head. “I wouldn’t worry about that.” 
“Has something happened? Between the two of you?” 
“Y/n, please don’t worry yourself over—” 
“It’s just—Azriel, I know how hard all of this has been on you. When you spoke of your mate it was the first time I saw you look at peace. That’s why I’m asking.” 
“You remember what I said?” 
“All of it,” you smiled, but Azriel only looked grave. “Az—"
The shadowsinger jutted back as the familiarity left your lips. He sent his shadows out, their configuring forms covering the windows and the cracks in the doors until it was dark enough for him to remove his wings from around you. With him went the comfort of night-kissed air and warmth and all of the things that made sense in this life you had been dropped into. 
“Rhys has requested that we meet in the study to discuss findings,” Azriel relayed, clearing his throat and standing from his place on the bed. “I laid out some of your things and a servant ran a bath when you started to stir. Do you need help—” 
“I’ve got it,” you interrupted, eyes downcast, feeling as though you’d ruined something that was already painfully delicate. 
“I’ll be here if you need me. Just outside the door.” 
You believed him—you did—but something was missing. Something you couldn’t keep up with. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he was in love with someone. Mor, maybe? Or one of the sisters Cassian talked about on occasion? 
The thought of him with his mate made you nauseous. 
You shouldn’t have asked. 
~~
“A replication?” you asked, running a hand along the side of your head in an attempt to look casual about the throbbing taking place there. “So… it is like last time?” 
“Partially, but because the witch’s powers aren’t pure, she was unable to mimic what a full daemati can do. So, same outcome, fewer side effects,” Rhys offered, a calming presence across the table. “Witches often find sources to draw from because they don’t have access to their natural abilities any longer. Your source was—” 
“An opening in her mind,” Azriel concluded, expression guarded as he sat stiffly beside you. “There were remaining injuries in her mind. The witch found her weak points and used them against her.” 
Helion nodded, rounding one of the more ornate chairs and basking in the light streaming through the window. “Very astute. We thought there were no remnants of—” 
“Don’t say his name,” Azriel warned. 
“—of the attack,” Helion quickly corrected, obviously not in the mind to start an argument with the keyed-up spymaster. “But they must have been miniscule. We think she must have been an old witch, very practiced.” 
“So what do we do now?” Cassian gruffly asked, arms crossed as he leaned against the windowsill. You turned to look at him, but the sunlight casting his shadow sent your head ablaze. You quickly righted your gaze and squeezed your eyes shut to compensate. 
You felt shadows stalk beneath your feet and across the floor until they consumed the light of the window. If anyone had any comments on the shadowsinger’s act, they didn’t voice them. 
“Now,” Helion breathed out, dropping into a chair and interlacing his fingers atop the oak table. “We wait. Just like the last time, this kind of power is not something we can simply undo. We need a witch, and witches are incredibly elusive.” 
Trepidation gripped your heart, sending your lungs into a fiery descent. You were just supposed to wait? Wait and hope that maybe, possibly, they would find a witch and fix this before your life moved on without you in it?
Your breath came out in quick, uneven puffs, exacerbating the ache in your head. 
Azriel sat up in his seat, high alert and on the defensive. 
But Rhysand was quicker than his spymaster’s anger. “There is the possibility that this wears off on its own.” 
Your eyes snapped up. “Was that a possibility last time?” 
“No,” Cassian remarked, brows shot up to his hairline. “That’s why you were missing for so long and in so much pain after. You both made it clear that there was no moving whatever the daemati put in her head.” 
Helion and Rhysand shared a look, but your High Lord was the one to speak. “It was weaker this time, more permeable. We think, with time, the wall the witch attempted to replicate will break down and you’ll have everything back. She did only do this to you to flee from attack. It wasn't personal.” 
“How much time?” Azriel strained. 
Helion replied this time. “There is no way to know, shadowsinger.” 
“What about the pain? You said fewer side effects but I couldn’t even have light in my room this morning.” 
Rhysand looked sheepish, eyes darting over to the window still opaque with shadows. “Yes, well—we may have pushed you a bit too far during our assessment.” 
Cassian let out a disbelieving huff from the corner of the room. Azriel gripped the arms of his chair until they groaned. 
“So it’ll go away?” you asked, desperation trickling into your tone. 
The wood beneath Azriel’s hands splintered. 
“Yes, very soon. We can give you some tonics before you leave as well. They will help speed up the process,” Helion promised, eyeing his chair being slowly destroyed. 
In a motion that felt almost second nature, you covered the spymaster’s hand with your own, shadows wrapping around the press of your skin. It was then that you noticed the ring. Silver and unassuming, it took up residence on the ring finger of his left hand and looked like it belonged no place else. 
Our souls are linked, he had said, talking about his mate with such passion. 
You removed your hand from his. 
Azriel flexed his fingers upon your departure. 
“We were thinking,” Rhysand began after a pregnant pause that seemed to blanket the room. “With your pain, we might want to stay a few more days. Winnowing can add extra pressure to the body and flying would—” 
“No,” you were quick to dispute. “No, I want to go home. It’s lovely here, Helion, and I thank you for all you’ve done and are doing, but I want to go back to the Night Court. I want to try and live the life I’ve made for myself, even if I have no idea what I’m doing.” Another pause. “If that’s okay.” 
“Of course that’s okay,” Azriel spoke from beside you. His words sounded dull, his fingers remaining outstretched on the chair. 
“We will continue looking for the witch on our side,” Helion nodded, pushing out of his chair. He came before you then, meeting your gaze. “I cannot apologize enough for what your time in my court has cost you. I only hope that all will return to you. I have missed you, y/n.” 
And then the High Lord of Day was gone, and you had no recollection as to why he would miss you in the first place. Everyone was saying they missed you, even as you stood before them unharmed and intact. 
A harsh reality slammed into you with the departure of the High Lord. 
If you didn’t get your memories back—if there were no witches or deteriorating walls in your mind—they would continue to miss you. You would forever be a husk of your former self, never understanding the full picture of who you were. 
But that wasn’t okay with you—not at all. 
504 notes · View notes
finniestoncrane · 20 hours
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Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3
Different Up Here
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, rimming, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly
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If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.
"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"
Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.
"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."
A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.
"Heh, that's a new one for out here."
Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.
"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"
"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."
"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."
You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.
That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.
Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.
"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"
Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.
"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."
You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.
"No, no no no no no. Just..."
The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.
"... fooling around... y'know?"
Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.
"Oh... oh darlin'."
He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.
"I don't think you're ready for that at all."
You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.
"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"
"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"
"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."
Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.
"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."
"Why? Sex is sex..."
You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.
"... Isn't it?"
"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."
The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.
"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."
His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.
"No, sir."
"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"
As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, sir."
You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.
You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.
And luckily, he seemed agreeable.
"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"
Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.
It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.
"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."
"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"
Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.
"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."
His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.
"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."
"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"
Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.
"Well, it's something like this."
He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.
Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.
Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.
"Well?"
"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."
"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"
He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.
"You like that? Like it rough?"
"I think... I think I like both."
"So, something like this?"
He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.
You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.
"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."
Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.
"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."
His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.
"Did they make you feel good?"
"No."
You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.
"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"
"A little..."
Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.
"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."
His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.
“And what about these pretty lips?”
Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.
“They touch these lips, huh?”
You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.
“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”
As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.
“Do it slowly though.”
Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.
“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”
You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.
“Turn around though. You face that way.”
The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.
“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”
A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.
The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.
It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.
“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”
His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.
“Don’t you dare, little lady.”
“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”
He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.
“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”
“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”
“I absolutely will not.”
Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.
Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.
“I am warning you, missy.”
“Cooper… I can’t stop…”
You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.
“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”
“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”
Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.
“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”
“Cooper…”
“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”
“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”
“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”
The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.
“Come on, darlin’, come on…”
Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.
As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.
“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”
You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.
“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”
As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.
“Alright then, get onto your knees.”
Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.
You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.
It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.
“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”
The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.
He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.
“Can I taste it… you?”
Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.
“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”
You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.
A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.
Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.
“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”
He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.
“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”
You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.
“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”
It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.
“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”
Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.
He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.
“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”
You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.
Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.
And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.
“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”
He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.
“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”
“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”
“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”
You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.
Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.
“Bigger than before?”
You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.
“Better?”
“Mhm…”
“Speak up, darlin’.”
With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.
“Yes… it’s better.”
“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”
Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.
“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”
“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”
Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.
“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”
You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.
“Ah… Cooper…”
“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”
There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.
“A little…”
Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.
His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.
“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”
He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.
“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”
You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.
“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”
With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.
“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”
It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.
And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.
You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.
“Did I say you could get up?”
Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.
“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”
Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.
“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”
Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.
When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.
“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”
“M-more?”
More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.
“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”
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ursaspecter · 15 hours
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🐺 moon-moon4w00 Follow
Friendly reminder that asking your lycan partner to turn you is incredibly insensitive! Seriously can we retire this trope already? Not only is it just offensive, but no one would ever actually choose this life! Lycanthropy is a curse. Full stop.
🐾 superhowllock69 Follow
Ok user "moon-moon" as if that original meme wasn't created to mock pack nomenclature 🙄
Anyway I'm not gonna touch that internalized lycanphobia with a ten foot pole. Being turned by your partner is something that can be incredibly intimate as long as both parties are consenting and the one being turned is 100% sure they want it. Literally the only downside to transforming once a month is the pain, but midol works just fine. No one with these "lycanthropy bad" takes ever wants to discuss the legitimate positives that come with this "curse" lmao.
🐺 moon-moon4w00 Follow
I'm literally reclaiming moon moon but go off I guess. Anyways turning your partner is absolutely disgusting and morally reprehensible and anyone who does it should be muzzled permanently.
🌜 impawssible Follow
lmao my wife literally saved my life when she turned me but i guess she should be muzzled huh? we run through the woods hunting deer together and can each haul in groceries in one trip now, but nooo she's obviously a danger to society because she cares enough about me to help me when insurance wouldn't cover my medicine
also it was confirmed that the creator of that meme literally makes and sells silver bullets so if you still wanna use moon moon for yourself that certainly is a choice. source: (X)
🦴 pupperoni Follow
I love that instead of naming the more common benefits of lycanthropy, you mentioned that you and your wife can carry all the groceries in one trip. I think that's definitely a positive that gets overlooked far too often and I commend you for speaking your truth, sir
🌜 impawssible Follow
lol thanks but I'm a woman 😅
🦴 pupperoni Follow
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🦇 count-fuckula Follow
Plus werewolf blood tastes way better and is as filling as 10 humans 👍
🐺 moon-moon4w00 Follow
Oh my GOD you vampblr freaks will just flock to anything. It clearly says "vamps DNI" in my bio!
🐾 superhowllock Follow
lmaoooo of course you're a vampire exclusionist
🌕 daddy-fenris Follow
wasn't OP the same guy who said fursuits were offensive to lycanthropes and doxxed a werewolf fursuiter?
🐺 moon-moon4w00 Follow
They ARE offensive and harmful to this community and I'm tired of pretending they're not. They perpetuate harmful depictions of what a humanoid wolf is actually like.
🌜 impawssible Follow
me when I dox someone for making candy colored animal costumes that look nothing like what a real werewolf does
🦴 pupperoni Follow
K
🌕 daddy-fenris Follow
U
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I think the thing that I've taken away from this panel is that it's okay if you don't like your work because there are people who will love it.
And I didn't take that away because there was any implication that Hugh or Mads disliked the work they did on Hannibal but because they so obviously loved it but even they couldn't remember all the details of the things they loved. Hugh wouldn't stop talking about S1EP2 Amuse-Bouche but he could not for the life of him remember Eldon Stammets' name, and Mads and Hugh had to be reminded of Donald Sutcliffe's name.
And those details of the panel stood out to me because it's like wow I may forget about something I've written or recorded or drawn, but someone somewhere out there, even if it's just one person, probably loved what I made even more than I did and they might've committed parts of my work to memory that I've completely forgotten about or thought were insignificant.
I guess the panel just reminded me how thankful I am for fandom spaces and the fannibal community and just generally people who are kind and uplifting and share what they love with each other.
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thelov3lybookworm · 2 days
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Juice Stains
Summary: A day alone with the babe. What could go wrong?
•○●⛦●○•
A/n: because @secret-third-thing's this post inspired me to have eris washing socks lol you can all thank her for inspiring me 🤭
anyways, enjoyy!!
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No one told Eris that giving a two year old child a glass of juice would result in him cursing his own existence.
His wife had gone to visit her friend in summer court, only just getting the chance to leave Amelia in his care since her birth. Eris had forced her to go himself, practically spewing a speech to get her nerves to calm.
Oh how he regretted that now as he rubbed the tiny fabric against itself in his hands, the water constantly running proving to be of no help against the stubborn stain of the orange juice spilled on the sock.
And the culprit of this crime? She was happily laughing away as she watched her father suffer for her actions.
Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Eris sighed, wondering how the hell Y/n handled situations like this. His back was screaming in pain, his fingers cramping after long moments of clutching at the tiny sock of his daughter.
The stain simply refused to come off, only adding to the list of things Eris was frustrated about as he leaned back, trying to straighten his back and get rid of at least some of the pain, his eyes wandering around the room.
It was a mess, and that was putting it lightly.
On the bed lay the heap of little clothes Eris had been looking through earlier to dress his little princess after her bath, wanting to pick the most comfortable and fashionable outfit suitable for someone so important.
On the couch and in front of it lay Amelia's toys, thrown around in the fit of rage she'd been before he handed her the juice.
Which, somehow, looked like the worst decision he'd made in his life.
The glass lay abandoned on the floor next to Amelia, who was chewing on her mitten like it was the tastiest fabric in the world, juice still pooled on the floor, slowly spreading.
Releasing a breath of frustration, Eris wrung the sock in his hand, then turned and stalked over to where Amelia sat, the mitten half hanging out of her mouth, her hand covered in saliva from when she had been trying to eat herself.
Cannibalism?
Eris knew it was ridiculous to think that, but how was he to shut his mind down when he was too tired to even blink?
"Come on, its nap time." He muttered lowly, leaning down to gather Amelia in his arms, who offered him a toothy grin for his suffering.
Despite her making him work so much, he could not stay mad. Hell, he could not even bring himself to be irritated or fault her for his tiredness. She was too adorable for that.
As he slowly set her down on her back on the fluffy mattress, uncaring that she was laying diagonally on the bed, he let himself smile at her.
"Are you happy after making daddy work so much?"
She squealed as he buried his face in her neck, giggling and trying to push him away when he tried to bite at her cheek.
"You deserve that punishment, you know that right?"
Her eyes twinkled back at him, and he sighed, settling down next to her, his body from the knee down hanging off.
"I'm resting a little before mommy returns. Remind me to clean up before then, will you?"
He patted her back, gently humming a tune to get her to sleep as she babbled out an answer he was too tired to even try and decipher. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, even though she was the one who should have been sleeping.
No, she stayed awake, talking to herself and playing with the wet sock he still had in his hand and giggling at the wet splat the material made when she slapped it onto her father's face.
She did not, in fact, wake him up before mommy arrived.
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Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo
@sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175
@starsinyourseyes @starswholistenanddreamsanswered
@cumuluscranium @byyalady @lilah-asteria @girlswithimagination @gardenofrunar @girlswithimagination
@sunnyspycat
Eris Vanserra Taglist: @fell-in-luvs @azrielsmate3 @tele86 @caraaaaugh
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nocturnowlette · 3 days
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do you have any hypnosis audio files youd recommend?
Honestly, the answer is a "maybe".
In my opinion, in my 8 years of listening to files, not even 1% qualify as something I'd consider well made. The vast majority are nsfw, and the vast majority of those just throw any actual hypnosis away for a sake of roleplay. That being said, here are some files that, in my estimation, are at a minimum decent.
And always, read the description of every file before listening, even after reading my descriptions.
There's puppy ones at the bottom, by the way.
First, not an audio file, but an itch.io game.
brainwasher_program by sleepingirl (18+)
This is the most competently made thing I will be showing. Sleepingirl is someone I would consider a good hypnotist skillwise.
There is also test hypnosis game1 and ithinktherefore, also itch.io text hypnosis games/sessions.
Next, to my knowledge, the best file I've personally stumbled on (though it still didn't quite wow me),
Failing to Resist by Jack Drago (18+)
This file is a trance trainer, as in a file meant to use the ideas of resistance and turn that idea against you. It does a passable job, and you might find it quite powerful and helpful if you have some stubborn tendencies as a subject.
Next is another passable trance trainer,
Mind Melt by LilithUnleashed (18+)
This file uses arousal to bring about a specific philosophy of trance, one you might find more conducive to effectiveness: enjoying trance for the sake of trance itself, not just using it as a means to an end. There is no wakener at the end.
Next, a twin pair of files,
The Call of the Void and Hypnotic Acceptance by LilithUnleashed
The Call of the Void is a sort of run of the mill hypnosis file meant to be looped, and designed to condition you to trance and specifically to Lilith to some extent. Hypnotic Acceptance is a conditioning file meant to be played out of trance and doesn't bring you in to it. It's a nice idea that can have some small potential benefits, it's also relaxing.
Lilith, in general, is a competent hypnotist, if not a bit... much... at times. That's more of a taste thing, though. She does a good job, and these files are good.
There is also this conditioning loop file by her which is also nice, as well as this one.
Next is one for the pups,
Collared Obedience by LilithUnleashed (18+)
This one is, at a minimum, a very enjoyable time. It creates a mental collar and links it with actual collars if you wish and have the means. It forms one made out of various concepts relating to obedience. The suggestions didn't stick for me, but I'm a tad stubborn.
Obedience 101 - Welcome to Class! by FlowLikeTea
If you haven't noticed, I like trance training files. It's primarily because they're some of the only ones that aren't trying to just do erotic roleplay with the facile idea of hypnosis and hypnotic aesthetics. It reminds me of the ASMR sphere in that way.
Anyways, this file is just nice. Not much else to mention.
Slow and Gentle Hypnotic Induction by GoddessSoft (NotSoftForWork)
Thank you, Ms. Soft, for making an actually competent SFW hypnosis file. Soft is quite the competent hypnotist, and we'll be showing a few of her files coming up, but this one remains my favorite. It's simply a very well done relaxation file by someone who knows her stuff and has a good understanding of most aspects of audio trances.
Good Puppy Clicker Training by GoddessSoft (18+)
This is a beginner-centric clicker training file by Ms. Soft. It's thorough, long, and pleasurable. If you haven't noticed, I have not recommended files intended to make you finish in any way. I don't like them. They do not work for me. You'll have to ask someone else. That being said, GoddessSoft's page on the link has many different puppy files to listen to. Most deal with that.
Puppydog Fractionation by GoddessSoft (18+)
Another not-specifically-nsfw-focused puppy file from Ms. Soft. If I recall right, the sound balancing might be a little iffy on this one, though. Fair warning.
That's all I remember for now, but I might have more recommendations in the future. I hope you enjoy, and be sure to tell me how you respond to some of them. Enjoy!
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gay-dorito-dust · 23 hours
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Hello could I please request civilian!reader staring at the batboys for a long time and goes “why are you so perfect and handsome, I’m so lucky to have you and I will protect you with my tiny body and hands” 🌸
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Idk whether or not this is what you wanted anon but I hope you like it at least in some way 😂
Jason can’t help but let out a full belly laugh upon hearing your declaration after having stared at him for a full hour, as he walked over to you to cup your face in his hands and rest his head against yours.
‘How sweet you of chipmunk, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind whenever I’m in trouble.’ He murmurs as his thumbs stroked your cheeks.
He found it extremely endearing and sweet that you would ever go out of your way to protect someone like him but he preferred if you were to stay at home where it was relatively safe. Jason cared way too much about you to loose you, even if the comment was made in a lighthearted way.
Gotham was far too cruel for someone like you and you both knew it, the city was bound to swallow you whole before you even made it down the street.
The other thing that stuck in Jason’s mind how you thought he was perfect and handsome, to which he would always respond with;
‘I’m far from being either of those things chipmunk, but I’ll take the compliment.’
Jason didn’t view himself as an ugly dude but nor did he think of himself as handsome either, he grew up in Crime Alley and was taken in by a billionaire, he never had times to focus on the way he looked or acted in the eyes of others. Until you of course.
To Jason, Dick was someone many would consider a handsome and perfect man while those same many often regarded him as the complete opposite under the same breath. So whenever you held his face in your hands and called him handsome or perfect with a look of utter love and adoration in your eyes, Jason can’t help but find himself slowly starting to believe that he was in fact a handsome man.
If anything Jason views himself as the one who is lucky to have someone as good and as perfect as you and he reminds you of it day and night, whether he was Jason Todd, your perfect man or Red Hood, feared vigilante of Gotham.
Dick: found it really cute that you thought you could protect him, someone who had the insane flexibility and agility of a cat, but he wasn’t one to crush your dreams and aspirations.
‘My hero has finally come to save me?’ He’d gasp dramatically as he practically falls into your arms, causing you to buckle under his weight and collapse on the bed and giggle at his theatrics.
However he wouldn’t dare let you put yourself in danger in any way shape or form for the likes of him, he refused it as this life had nothing but take and take and take from him anything and everything he held dear.
He still remembered how he felt partially responsible for Jason’s death that he tries to make up for it by being in his corner when it seemed as though everyone thought ill of him.
So Dick really doesn’t want you going and pulling the heroic card on him as he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it, he’d act like he could when in reality he was doing far worse then anyone could imagine. So it be better if you let him do the saving.
Now Dick was aware of his own attractiveness and appeal but when you were the one calling him perfect and handsome, he’s smiling widely and internally kicking his feet and saying silly shit like;
‘You still have a crush on me? How embarrassing for you.’ To which you respond with ‘Dick we’ve been dating for 8 months-‘
When anyone else calls Dick handsome they are pointing out an already pre established fact, but when you’re the one saying he’s handsome it has more meaning as it felt as though he was being shown something that he never knew was there before. He lived for every time you called him handsome and it wasn’t because of an ego thing, he just like you calling him handsome and would never want to live in reality where he never heard you say it ever again.
Damian;
‘I can protect us both without issue so there’s no need for that.’
He sometimes takes your word a little too literally, regardless whether you were joking or not.
He was the crime fighter out of you both, so just let him do all the fighting, he doesn’t want your eyes to be burdened with the violence and criminal activity that he was accustomed to.
Also when you called him perfect and handsome, Poor Damian didn’t know what to think as it wasn’t something he viewed himself as nor expected anyone outside of his family to either.
He could handle insults and such but soft words laced with love and care towards him was an entirely new feeling for him in general that it both scared and excited him simultaneously. Besides Damian wasn’t interested in tibial things such as being conventionally attractive or whatever troubles the average person, he never thought it of any importance when other things took presidency in his life.
However when you compliment him, Damian couldn’t help but feel as though he was a little boy again, he would feel himself stiffen for a moment before the appropriate response came to him as easy as breathing, because caring for you was as easy as breathing to Damian and he’d do anything to make sure you were safe and sound wherever you are; for without you he’d be deeply lost.
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Text
Part I: The Prophecy — June 25, 2011
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Part I: On her daily morning run, Y/N wonders if she’ll ever have someone who wants her simply company. Spencer promises her just that, the only catch: she has to wait seven years.
Rating: Eventual smut, fluff and longing
Word Count: 3.5K
Series Masterlist | Tell Me What You Think!
My Mind Turns You Into Folklore: The Prophecy — June 25, 2011
Running, somehow, still made her feel like a child. Perhaps there was something unadulterated and carefree about losing yourself in the pounding of pavement. When Y/N felt the wind rush in her ears and the familiar burn throughout her body, she truly felt alive.
Her entire body ached— no, screamed— as she approached her fifth mile for the day’s session. For Y/N running wasn’t about getting to the destination fastest, but about finishing the race altogether.
She wished she could apply such wisdom to very particular aspects of her life. Namely, her love life. For Y/N, relationships with men were unpleasantly predictable. From terrible blind dates with friends who she honestly can’t tell if they meant well to men with habits so strange Y/N could only plead insanity by a drunken state as to why she entertained even a second glance. Unfortunately, for her the sea of men seemed to solely be comprised of rather the unfortunate sort of men that made her skin crawl.
Her knees burned as her mind ran through the five weddings and babies that were impending. Between cousins, college friends, and even her own sister all either, Y/N never more lonely than when she was surrounded by her people. There was something particularly voyeuristic about watching those you love move along the carousel while you’re left in the dust. She was a casual observer, marooned to the sidelines. And someone where along the way she forgot to even care.
Her chest burned as she wondered where her aunt, a woman born and forged from pure spite and hefty lack of tolerance for anything progressive, would sit her at her cousin’s wedding. Y/N heaved forward imagining what would be worse; the discarded old widow’s table with wives whose husbands’ expiration date had come and passed. Or with her unruly nephews who would have to be wrestled into a tiny tuxedo and bribed with fried food and the majesty of Red40 to maintain the semblance of civility.
Being 27, husbandless, boyfriendless, and childless didn’t usually bother Y/N. She loved her peace. But somehow it put her into this plane of existence where she straddled youth and adulthood. She had one foot jammed deep into the rich, sodden earth of childhood and one toe dipping too all too calm to be safe waters of adulthood. Yet being uncoupled was as if she purchased overnight shipping to the elephant graveyard.
It was antiquated. It was downright sexist, yet there was a small part of her heart and her entire being that craved to be taken care of by a man. She wanted someone to bring her flowers just because, to hug her from behind while she stirred soup for dinner on a chilly day, to brush her hair from her face as he brought her to the brink of pleasure time and time again.
There was only so much her vibrator could do.
But a heart that ached to be loved, that problem didn’t come with a WebMD link. There wasn’t a quick and easy fix to change something that defined her on a molecular level.
She savored the sweet breeze that reminded her of summer and childhood. The houses, various shades of blue, gray, and beige blurred past as she maintained her steady pace.
Y/N rounded the corner and pounded the pavement that led to Betsy’s Cape Cod. She was the Head Librarian and took Y/N under her rather Mother Goose-like wing three years ago when she took the position at the small, sleepy library. A suburb of Quantico, many of the patrons were families in public service.
She even stumbled across someone who quickly became her best friend, Spencer. He was some sort of former child prodigy turned adult wunderkid. After racking up more diplomas than most extended families collect, Spencer worked as a special agent for the FBI. But looking at him, you would never have guessed. He was timid and shy in a boyish way that made him seem much younger than 32. He was tall and lanky, yet despite his slender frame he seemed to completely light up every single room he walked into.
Both Betsy and Spencer buried themselves into the fabric of her life. Betsy sat on the front porch, slowly swaying on the large, wooden swing. A crocheted blanket lay over her lap, keeping her warm under the brisk morning’s chill.
“Y/N!” Betsy called, as she ascended the stairs with a bright smile, “Dearie, it’s far too cold for you to run out here.”
“I could say the same about you, Bets,”
Betsy dismissed Y/N with a coy smile and a wave of her hand. “It’s good for my old bones to get a little chill. Make sure everything is in working order.”
Betsy scooted over on the porch swing, making more than enough room for Y/N to sit.
“That tall kid? Hmm, Spencer? Yes. Spencer. Was in there looking for you yesterday. Poor kid’s entire day was ruined when I told him you were on a date. Now, is there a reason why you didn’t tell me you didn’t tell your best friend?” Betsy asked, not hesitating to ask a question that went straight for the jugular.
Y/N offered Betsy a weak smile. “There wasn’t anything to tell him. He’s not interested in my love life. We talk about books. And work. And… I don’t know…”
Betsy nodded, but her pointed look pressed Y/N to continue. There wasn’t anything romantic between her and Spencer, but that wasn’t to say the connection wasn’t the most important thing in her life. When she met him three years ago he simply waltzed into her life; a tall, gangly man with a large appetite for baked goods and an excellent taste in literature.
“Besides, he has a thing for his coworker. Even though she hardly acknowledges his existence.”
From the time she met Spencer, he constantly was talking about his teammates. Growing up, Spencer didn’t have a stable family life. His mother tried her best, while his father never tried at all. He grown up not knowing what it was like to belong anywhere and now he finally found something resembling a family.
JJ was blonde and skinny and perfect and Spencer was completely enamored with her. Y/N met her only a couple of times, the first after a football game. She shared a plate of cheese fries and gravy with Spencer’s other coworker, Penelope as Spencer attempted to spout an almanac’s worth of facts about football to JJ.
“Hmm,” Betsy murmured, swinging back and forth. “Well, he said he has to talk to you about something. Maybe he’s getting to his senses, finally.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, sipped some of the ice cold lemonade Betsy handed her, and gave her a pointed smile.
“This isn’t a romance novel, Bets. You’ve been sneaking too many of those bodice rippers.”
She stood up and felt some relief as her weary muscles stretched. Betsy waved another annoyed hand.
“Quiet down, Missy. I’ve had my chance at love. And I fully intend on you and Spencer being an item. My Arnold, may that old bastard rest in peace, never gave me children, so you and that boy are my only chance to fill this house with grandkids.”
“Oh my God, Betsy,” Y/N groaned, her head tossed back, “It’s not like that between us. And I promise you, it never will be.”
Y/N took off before Betsy had the chance to respond. But she couldn’t shake the funny feeling tugging at her heartstrings. She thought that maybe if she just focused her mind on feeling the wind blow her hair and her body burn as the third mile turned into a fifth, she could wash away the thoughts of one or two little children sitting on Betsy’s porch, sandwiched in between her and Spencer.
***
Gary, as it turned out, wasn’t a nice guy. First of all, he showed up precisely 23 and a half minutes late and hardly bothered to greet her as he sat down at their two seater table. He barked a drink order to the waitress, who graciously threw Y/N a sympathetic smile.
“So you work at Walter Reed?” Y/N asked, attempting to make conversation with the man seated in front of her. He was a couple years her senior and an Attending Emergency Room Doctor. On paper Gary seemed wonderful. He had a nice family; older sisters were always a green flag in Y/N’s book and seemed to have a basic grasp of personal hygiene practices.
Gary mumbled as the waitress brought him his drink: whisky on rocks. He downed it in about three minutes and signaled for the waitress to return.
“Sorry,” Gary apologized, his voice so close to resembling being embarrassed, but it, somewhere along the line, made a beeline in the opposite direction, “There was some bitch in the ER today complaining about how her boyfriend didn’t believe her when she told him she was pregnant. Took me a god damn hour to shut her up. Jesus, reminds me why I don’t date.”
Y/N felt her face freeze. It was like his harsh words poured ice water over her shoulders. Her skin practically crawled as Gary’s carelessness settled in. Wasn’t this a date? Or was this simply the means for Gary to get into her pants.
“Hold up,” Y/N said, gesturing with her hand held up to stop Gary’s rant, “I was under the impression this was a date. Is it not?”
Gary shrugged. “As long as there’s a happy ending with you, babe I don’t give a fuck.”
He was crass. Y/N was far from a prude. She enjoyed her time in college and didn’t mind the occasional quick one night stand when the opportunity presented itself, but there would be something completely debasing and revolting about sleeping with the man sitting before her.
“I think you’ve gotten the wrong impression.” Y/N said, her words clipped and stern: there wasn’t room for Gary to mix up any bit of her message. “I’m not looking for a fuck-buddy. And even if I was, it certainly wouldn’t be you. We’ve been sitting here for all of twelve minutes and you’ve already drank two whiskys, been rude to the waitress, insulted a patient, and offended me.”
Gary, in a lackadaisical way that could only be described as a fuckboy with the worst case of Peter Pan syndrome, shrugged his shoulders. He downed the rest of his second whisky, “You’re a frigid bitch anyway.”
He left.
And Y/N laughed. Then she ordered two slices of double chocolate cheesecake and asked the waitress where the closest liquor store was.
***
Silently, she cursed Spencer’s charming love of buildings with character. She bounded up the steps to his apartment, the plastic bag with the two slices of cheesecake banged against her leg. Her other hand clutched the neck of a cheap, screw top rose.
Her date, disastrous, was nearly comical, and she couldn’t wait to recount the details to Spencer.
They share a sort of sadistic penchant for relaying moments for their occasional first dates. Typically, Y/N had more than Spencer. On the rare occasion Spencer did have a date, Y/N found herself trying to explain that any girl in her right mind would attempt to flirt with Spencer, but he refused to see her points.
Not bothering to knock, Y/N opted to use the spare key Spencer gave her. She figured he’d either still be working at the office or would be too engrossed in his latest fantasy novel to bother answering the door.
Spencer’s apartment was painted a dusty, sage green. The farthest wall was lined with built-in bookshelves. A prewar relic, Spencer’s style mixed perfectly with the vintage quality embedded within the walls.
Up until recently, Spencer’s kitchen was hardly used. But Y/N had taken it upon herself to teach Spencer the basics in prepping meals. He was a quick study, as with almost everything he tried. And it gave her some peace knowing he would be able to provide himself something more satiating than granola bars and frozen lasagna.
“Spencer! Spence!” Y/N called out, dipping her head into Spencer’s second bedroom. There was a queen bed in there with a cream colored quilt splashed out on the bed.
On late nights spent watching old, black and white movies or binging episodes of The Twilight Zone and The X-Files, she would crash there. It was a fight for her to even concede to allow Spencer to purchase the queen bed. Y/N claimed that she was fine just sleeping on the couch, but Spencer insisted that she sleep in a bed.
And if Y/N had been born into a braver soul, she would’ve suggested they share his bed three years ago.
Spencer shuffled out of his bathroom, eyes red and weary. He wore a tattered Cal-Tech shirt and plaid pajama pants. He wore his glasses. They rested on the bridge of his nose and made him lose at least four or five years on his already young looking face.
“She’s pregnant.”
“I brought wine. And chocolate cheesecake.” Y/N replied, kicking her shoes off. “And you better have done laundry already because I am not sleeping in this dress. I feel ridiculous in it.”
Spencer’s eyes raked over Y/N’s frame, as if he was internally debating his thoughts on her outfit. His brow furrowed. “You’re date?”
“Asshole.” Y/N said, walking into the kitchen. She plucked two wine glasses from Spencer’s cabinet and two plates. “Arrogant and only wanted a quick fuck.”
His voice disappeared as he went into his room for a change of pajamas. They were freshly washed. She continued to listen to Spencer as she shut the bathroom door and changed behind. His voice was no longer muffled when she came out of the bathroom, but she did notice how Spencer’s eyes still were heavy with something unfamiliar when he looked over her baggy, old pajama-clad frame.
“You’re not the girl for that.” Spencer commented, reaching for the corkscrew. His large hands twisted around the device and the bottle of wine made a satisfying pop.
“You don’t know that.” Y/N countered, her defiance made a crop of red appear on Spencer’s cheeks. “Besides, that’s not the point. JJ’s pregnant. With that New Orleans guy’s baby?”
He nodded. It was as if grief washed over Spencer as Y/N changed the conversation. She knew that Spencer was harboring feelings for JJ. Jennifer was nearly perfect in every way. The only imperfect thing about her was that she didn’t realize how perfect Spencer was. He would’ve adored JJ if he got the chance. He nearly did.
“And how do you feel about that?”
Spencer groaned, pouring himself a healthy cup of rosé. “Unsure. It’s not like I’m going to confront her about this. She’s practically engaged to Will. And now there’s a baby in the picture? A baby who’s very well going to grow up seeing me as Uncle Spencer.”
He sounded exhausted. Y/N touched his hand and squeezed. She understood the pained loneliness that plagued Spencer’s voice. “I don’t love JJ anymore. It’s just, my whole life I felt like I was so far beyond my peers. And now? They all finally have caught up, this time the tables have turned. God, I’m excited when a girl smiles at me, let alone goes on a date with me.”
Weakly, Y/N smiled. She sipped her rose, “So it’s more of feeling like you’re far beyond in life? Despite having two PhDs and like three undergrad degrees? You’re one of the most accomplished men I know, Spencer. And we all move along at our own pace. Don’t compare JJ’s story to yours.”
He nodded, spooning a bite of the double chocolate cheesecake. “It’s just…I’m nearly 32. And now I’m watching JJ and Hotch and Morgan talk about babies and husbands and wives and houses. And I can’t help but wonder if I’ll be lucky enough to get that one day. Sometimes… I think I’m too me for anyone to fall in love with me.”
Y/N felt her heart shatter into a million little pieces as Spencer’s honest confession striked her entire system. She wanted to reach out and push away the stray curl that hooked itself in front of his eyebrow. She wanted to reach out and wipe away his tears. She wanted to tell her friend that if no one married him, she would.
She stalked off the to couch, needing a stable place to sit. Her chocolate cheesecake stuck to the roof of her mouth and the bitter rosé did nothing to remove it.
“Holy shit, Spencer. Do you not realize that you’d make any girl happy? You’ll find her one day, I know it. And if you don’t, we can just say fuck it and get married. I mean, I know it wouldn’t be romantic love, but we could at least live together. Through a big fancy party and get dressed up nice and getting drunk on mojitos with my best friend. My person? Sounds fun.”
“You mean that?” Spencer asked, half in disbelief and half in wonderment. “You mean that we’ll get married if neither of us have someone…say seven years from now?”
She must’ve drank more than she thought as she waited for Gary to ruin their date. “I meant it. But why seven?”
A smile toyed on Spencer lips. She noticed the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.
“It’s my lucky number.”
Her lips were so loose that it threatened to crack open her heart. She had a nasty habit of wearing that on her sleeve.
She gave Spencer a sheepish look as his eyes met hers. He looked half between incredulous and hopeful. His fingers ran across the rim of his wine glass as the wine sloshed around. It mirrored Y/N’s stomach.
“Is this idea like bad shit crazy?” Y/N asked. “I mean it. I mean, why not. It’s not so different from what we do now. Just all the time. And I’d be thrilled to be spiritually required to spend more time with you.”
“Should we….shake hands or something. I’m not the biggest fan of that, but I think my wife would serve as an exception to the rule. To every rule I’ve got?”
Y/N laughed. She felt the wine creep up a nice, warm flush against her skin. It matched the light and easy way her limbs felt. It might have very well been the wine, but there wasn’t much of anything that could trump laughing with your best friend. Especially when that best friend slipped and called you his wife.
Her feet somehow ended up in Spencer’s lap. His thumb rubbed gently against her ankle, barely touching her bare skin. Yet it sent shockwaves that she didn’t quite understand.
The corners of Spencer’s eyes crinkled as he reciprocated that laugh. They shared it and Y/N had the strangest desire to bottle it up. She wanted to store this moment in her mind and come back to it. One day. Some day.
“We’ll get married,” Spencer started speaking as if it was a prophecy that he could set in stone, “if neither of us has anyone, we’ll enter this rather odd, rather complex, yet completely entirely normal and simple marriage in seven years?” His sweet, yet coy smile was boyish, it only reminded Y/N just how far away 35 was for her.
“Should we draft up a contract?”
“Have your lawyers contact my lawyers. I never sign documents without the proper legal support. In the meantime, could we settle on our first stipulation: never watching a new episode of our current favorite show without the other?”
“I agree to the terms and conditions you’ve set out.” Y/N said. She grabbed the blanket that rested on the back of the couch as Spencer turned off the lamp light.
“Oh and I washed the sheets in your room. I used the detergent you like. And your pajamas. The lavender vanilla one with the scent beads?” He flipped on an episode of The Twilight Zone.
She smiled from the way Spencer naturally called the guest room her bedroom. There was something very domestic and peaceful about him using her favorite detergent to wash the sheets in her room in his apartment. It resembled the exact something that she was craving: being taken care of.
She sipped her rose again, watching as her friend smiled at the gray scale painted on the screen. It was too bad she only had to weight over half a decade to feel it and not feel guilty and like she was lying to herself.
Taglist:
@reidsbookclub @boldlyvoid @mrs-dr-reid @reid-ingandweeping @candlesandsoftrain @foxy-eva @queermaxwooo
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fuckaperioddrama · 2 days
Text
Draco Malfoy Headcanons
Warnings: Toxic!Draco | Bullying | Mentions of Rough Sex, BDSM, Choking, Worship/Praise Kink | Oral (F Receiving) | Mentions of Drugs and Alcohol | Let me know if I missed something.
Fem!Reader
Author's Note: I've got a love-hate relationship with Draco Malfoy.
Proofread, but might have mistakes.
Theodore Nott Headcanons
Mattheo Riddle Headcanons
Lorenzo Berkshire Headcanons
Blaise Zabini Headcanons
Tom Riddle Headcanons
Masterlist
Minors DNI | 18+
Draco Malfoy | Physique
5’11 | I don’t see him as being super tall.
Draco is more on the lanky side.
Working out? Physical labor? Absolutely not. | He plays quidditch for the attention. Genuinely hates sweating like ew. 
Resting bitch face. THE WORST resting bitch face. He looks like such a bitch, I can’t stress this enough. 
SO UNAPPROACHABLE 
But he is really pretty. | I know I say this for pretty much all of them, but that’s how you HAVE to describe Draco
Draco is pretty and no one can argue with me on this. 
Draco Malfoy | Personality
Dick
Genuinely awful to almost everyone
He’s a powerful person and he likes to let that be known. Always looks down on people who don’t share his status
He and Lorenzo have that same frustrating energy in very similar ways. 
Lorenzo is frustrating because he tries to pretend he’s not actually the worst.
Draco is frustrating because he just has so much audacity
“Hey, nice shirt.”
“Oh, thanks! I actu-”
“I’m kidding, that’s the ugliest fucking shirt I’ve seen in my entire life. Did you actually think I was serious? Where did you get that? The dump? Merlin, you look AWFUL! I can’t believe you left the house looking like th-”
| Regina George energy |
Was that necessary? No, but Draco doesn’t care. He hurt your feelings? OH WELL
He WILL laugh in the face of anyone who cries in front of him because why are you acting so pitiful?
Sure he just pointed out your deepest and most shameful insecurity, but geez pull yourself together.
He likes to remind everyone that no matter how hard they try they will never be him.
Because he’s Draco mother fucking Malfoy. | Duh.
FLAUNTS
Doesn’t know what humble means. If has it, he’s displaying it it.
Projects his insecurities onto others.
He treats others so poorly because that's how he treats himself. He is his own worst critic and he feels a lot of pressure from other influences in his life too.
Uptight. High Standards that everyone must meet.
Draco can still loosen upthough. He enjoys a good party.
Prefers to host so that he can control the guest list.
Whenever he doesn’t host he’ll complain the whole time because that guy would have never been let into one of his parties.
Draco smokes and drinks but it’s 50/50 on how messed up he gets
If he’s out with just Mattheo, Theo, and Enzo then he’s pretty sober because who knows what he’ll get into with those three.
If Tom or Blaise are there then he’ll go a little crazy because he knows those two won’t let anything too bad happen. | Mostly Blaise. Tom will only intervene if it’s for his benefit.
Draco Malfoy | Casanova
Draco is someone else I can see who targets other people's girlfriends
Whereas Theo does it only if their boyfriend pissed him off, Draco does it merely because he can.
Generally, Draco is very dominant in a toxic Alpha Male kinda way
He likes to go all out. Takes them on dates, wine and dine, fanciest restaurants, fanciest cars, just the whole nine.
He doesn't want them to talk much unless it’s to compliment him. He’s not so much doing the grand gestures to impress women. He’s mainly doing it to flex on other men.
He still cares in some way though because uhh
After the date, he takes them back to his room, and AHH
SO GOOD
He thrives off of pleasing his partner. If he can make a girl scream his name even ONCE he is walking around the next day like he is a GOD. | More so than usual.
Loves giving and he would never tell anyone to do this, but if you throw in some praise? One crumb of praise?? FERAL
He goes into overdrive. They thought he was good before, but if they praise him next thing they know their legs are shaking and they’re cramping so bad because they just can’t take anymore but it feels so fucking good so they will take it all with no complaints
Quite the reputation in bed.
Overstimulation, bondage, choking, anything to give him the control he wants.
But then he has someone extra special for the lack of control he needs. | I feel like this person is Pansy, but that’s a whole other story.
Draco wants to be a sub SO BAD, but he will only let those he trusts see that side of him.
One girl, MAYBE TWO! MAYBE
But even having one person who knows that side of him exists makes him so anxious so he will probably only stick to that one person.
Draco likes to talk about every single girl he fucks and he brags about his encounters regularly.
But he’s taking his secret Dom to the grave and he will gaslight the shit out of everyone if he is ever exposed. He REFUSES to let people know that side of him exists.
Draco Malfoy | Friend
Closest to Mattheo and Blaise | I KNOW PEOPLE DON’T PUT HIM IN MATTHEO TOGETHER HER! I EXPLAIN IT A LITTLE BIT IN MY MATTHEO HC BUT IT MAKES SENSE!
Draco is a good friend
He’s such a sweet guy once he gets comfortable around someone.
So supportive!! | Lucius and Narcissa loved to cheer for their baby boy so that’s how he treats his friends.
As long as it makes him look good!
If someone is playing a game with him and they’re on the opposite team then he is spending every second praying for their downfall
But if his friend is on the same team as him then he becomes so proud every time they do something right.
Look at his bestie out there showing everyone their skills and helping him win. | Go bestie!
Outside of his selfish nature, he doesn’t like to see his friends fail.
He gets really unhappy when he feels like he’s failed at something and so he projects those feelings onto others and in turn that makes him want to help his friends succeed.
He thinks if they don’t then they’ll feel the way about themselves that he feels about himself.
He will always make sure his friends have their notes, they’re in class, they’re eating, they’re studying, etc.
And if they’re doing any sort of presentation, performance, whatever he will be in the crowd like the proud parent he is.
Does not share.
If Blaise asks to use his Dior cologne he is absolutely saying no because he doesn’t want to waste any of it. | Only child behavior. No offense.
But he’ll go out the next day and buy Blaise his own.
“Here,” as he drops the box in front of him.
“Is this?”
“You said you wanted to try it,” he shrugs
“You didn’t have to buy me a bottle! You could have just let me use yours.”
“And why would I do that?”
Draco Malfoy | Boyfriend
He's so obvious when he's in love.
He genuinely treats you like you're some sort of a goddess.
Draco would not let you do anything.
He won’t do it for you, but he’ll find someone who will.
“Draco, why is Mattheo on a rampage in the library? I was walking by and heard Pince screaming at him.”
“I told him if he found that book you needed for your test I’d take him to the concert next weekend.”
“But you promised me I could go!”
“You are going.”
“Then why-“
“Shhhhhh”
You will always be his number one priority. Acts of Service
Draco will basically upgrade your life.
Does your water bottle leak sometimes? He’s already bought you a new one.
He presents you with gifts, but if it’s a replacement he usually switches them out and will tell you later.
You would need to communicate when something is sentimental because otherwise, he’s throwing it out for a new one
Door creaks? New door. The drawer won’t open properly? New dresser. Woke up with a sore back? New mattress.
He just bought the items, someone else replaced them.
Eventually, he’ll start doing some services himself too.
At first, it seems beneath him, but once he’s all in he doesn’t even have to think about it.
Puts his jacket on the ground because you want to sit and enjoy nature and he won’t let you get your outfit dirty
Will make sure to loosen up any skincare, food jars, or whatever he knows you regularly use so that you don’t have to waste time seeking him out to do it.
He knows when you’ll use them and gives himself time in his schedule to loosen them just before you need them.
Will not let you stress over anything.
The second you mention you have more than three things to do that day he’s already rejecting the idea.
“Oh, absolutely not. That’s way too much. I’ll have someone do that for you.”
He’s not letting you work. You’re too good to work.
A life of luxury, baby. Gift Giving
DRACO EXCELS IN THIS CATEGORY
You guys don’t even need to be dating for that long. On your third date, he shows up with a Birkin bag
His parents bought his love and that’s how he would treat his partner as well.
He would not let you pay for anything.
Same mentality as Theo where he just thinks it would make him look bad if you ever did pay for anything so it’s not happening. It doesn’t matter if you actually want to pay.
Why would Draco Malfoy let anyone pay for him? That’s so embarrassing.
Elevates your wardrobe. He wants to coordinate. Not so much matching outfits but if he’s wearing all black then you’re wearing all black.
Will be very controlling with this kind of stuff. He wants you to always fit his aesthetic. If he’s not wearing sweatpants then neither are you.
Why should you dress comfortably when he bought you 10 different dresses just in the last hour?
New shoes, makeup, nails, hair
Paying for your facial because his girl needs to relax.
And he’s in the chair next to you because all of those looks of disdain he gives out on the daily are giving him wrinkles. | Skincare King.
And to make sure his girl gets the best treatment
You deserve it all and he will show you that and tell you that every single day.
Little off-track Draco rant moment coming up.
I feel like when you first start dating Draco he will be a little judgmental and controlling. Like with what I mentioned about him wanting you to have a specific aesthetic
But when he falls in LOVE
He has this full-body reaction to every single thing you do.
You wake up in the morning your hair a mess, boob hanging out, crust all up in your eyes and he just looks at you and his stomach gets this queasy yet dull feeling and his mind is zeroed in on you. It’s like someone literally went into his brain and fully erased every single thought that wasn’t centered around you.
He feels the hairs raise around his body and he gets this rush of adrenaline from being both excited and so nervous because how the fuck is the most beautiful person in the world in his bed right now?
But the main thing he notices is his heart. This ache takes over his chest as he’s so overwhelmed with how much he loves you.
And to get it all out he HAS to tell you every single day. All day.
Words of Affirmation
Dating Draco means you have to be comfortable with compliments because he positively will not stop.
“The way this light is hitting you makes you look amazing.”
“I swear you’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen.”
It doesn't matter if you're eating, studying, or talking to your friend or professor he will always find the right moment to lean forward, his lips brushing against your ear as he tells you how beautiful you are.
Once more, when Draco is in love with you, for lack of a better word, he becomes the utmost simp.
Did you pass your exams? Just barely pass them?
“You’re so impressive. You’re so smart, I can’t believe I’m dating you. I’m so lucky.”
Style your hair differently?
“You’re so creative. How do you come up with this stuff? That’s amazing, you look so good.”
Cook eggs? The most basic meal ever or even if you don’t cook and just order out
“You always know exactly what I need. I’m so thankful for you. You always take such good care of me. I appreciate you so much.”
He doesn’t care how cringey he sounds. His girl is a goddess and she deserves to be worshipped. Both with words and with Physical Touch
Draco loves to touch you, but he’s not fully comfortable with PDA.
He was raised in a household where those things weren’t proper to display in front of others.
All of his PDA is very subtle. Your hands rest next to each other as you’re sitting down and he has two fingers gently rested atop of yours.
Standing next to each other somewhere and he has his hand gripping the back of your arm. Kind of his way of showing everyone who you belong. And also reminding you that he’s there. Just so you don’t forget about your lovely boyfriend.
When you’re with friends and the air is more relaxed he’ll keep an arm around your shoulder and softly play with your earlobe.
It’s all very subtle. Then when you’re in private he becomes so annoying
He needs physical touch and he needs it NOW
After class every day he needs at least a 20-minute cuddle session. 20 minutes and no less. He will build his entire schedule around this and will bitch out anyone who ruins his time with you.
He prefers to be the little spoon and he likes to rest his head very nicely upon your boobs
Back rubs are mandatory. You need to rub his back as soon as he lays down.
Playing with his hair isn’t a necessity, but it’s preferred.
However, if you are playing with his hair then you need to commit. Don’t just run your fingers through it once and call it a day.
“Baby, please. I can’t deal with this today. I’ve already had so many things go wrong, if you take your hand away from my head again I will frankly have a nervous breakdown.”
“Draco, calm down. It’s not tha-“
“PLEASE!”
He takes the Quality Time he gets with you very seriously.
Draco can be busy, he’s not that partner who is around you 24/7 but when he is with you he is fully devoted.
Anything that might distract him is getting pushed to the side and he is 100% yours.
Do you want to watch the same movie for the 6th time in two weeks? Fully invested. He knows every line. Even if he hates it he will never act like he’s uninterested or bored.
If it’s important to you then it’s important to him.
You want to rant about how that one person pissed you off again? All ears.
Do you simply want someone to go with you to the store, for a walk, or just do the most random thing? Of course, he will come. If you need him to do something? Great, he’ll help. Do you just want company? He will gladly be a figure in the background you can talk to when you want to.
Draco will never let you believe for a second he isn’t absolutely in love with you. His love is filled with such enthusiasm and care that it’s easy to see how much he wants you in his life
And in his bed | ;)
Draco Malfoy | Committed Lover
Remember when I said Draco likes to worship you?
IT IS BECAUSE HE HAS A WORSHIP KINK
He doesn’t like to be rushed during sex. You are the most ethereal being he has ever seen and he needs to take his time with you.
He has every detail of your body memorized because he loves to look at, feel, and taste every morsel of you.
Sprawled out against his bed, frustrated and desperate because Draco has spent the last 45 minutes kissing almost your entire body, purposely leaving out the spot you need him at most.
He may take 45 minutes to an hour just focusing on the rest of your body, but he saves your breathtaking cunt for last because he has to dedicate at least three hours to that
Munch.
It’s concerning how often Draco eats you out. If you let him I’m sure he would do it at least four-five times a day. On his knees with his tongue swiftly moving over your sensitive bud while he looks up at you in awe because you just look so pretty when you cry for him.
Draco would have a hard time teasing you or withholding anything.
It’s like he goes into a trance.
Cock being sucked into your achy cunt, squeezing him so tight he feels like he can’t breathe
And then your lashes flutter and your mouth parts and he just stares at you mindlessly as he continues to drill himself into you.
You’re so pretty he can hardly focus.
Draco is adaptable. He’s a switch, but he prefers to be a sub.
It’s when his worship kink and praise kink come out the most. He wants to worship you but he would like it if you praised him in the process for being such a good boy.
On his knees staring up at you as he runs his tongue from the top of your ankle all the way to the end of your hip.
You’re sitting down as Draco rests his head against your lap-begging, pleading for you to bounce on his cock and use him like the good little toy he is.
And you do.
Draco does so much for you. He would lay the world at your feet. It’s only fair that he gets a little treat.
————
hehehehehe
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worldofkuro · 3 days
Text
Painted Smile
Painted Smile V
<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: I think I wrote more for this chapter. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter dear readers. Let me know what you think about it.
“ You look.. dishearten, my friend”
You sighed as you looked at your friend: Alice. She was one of the first female friends you made 6 years ago at school. She was one of the sweetest girls you have ever met. She had long blonde locks with beautiful sapphire eyes, her voice sounded like a siren’s song. You were proud to be her friend, almost all of the boys who laid their eyes upon her were almost falling to their knees ready to propose to her. 
“ I have no idea what to do for Alastor’s birthday.” you sighed “ no idea of a present.”
Alice clapped in her hand with a big grin and you couldn’t help but scoff at her radiance. She always loved when you were talking about yours and Alastor’s relationship. You didn’t really know why but she wanted to meet him.  Well… yes, you knew why. Alastor was … He was…
“ How old is he ?” she asked you as she drank her cup of tea.
“ Well, he is going to turn seventeen. So I want to make him something special.” you sighed once again as you laid your cup of hot chocolate on the table. 
“ How long have you known each other ? “
“ Almost eight years.” you smiled fondly. Eight years. You’ve been friends with Alastor for eight years and you have loved every single year. You looked into your cup of hot chocolate, the colour reminded you of Alastor’s eyes. Alastor wasn’t a little boy anymore, he had become taller. Taller than you, his frame was more muscular thanks to his hunting trip, he had become more teasing, sneakier, and cunnier but the biggest problem was… He had become so handsome. He lost his chubby cheeks, now his jaw was sharp, his eyes were even more intense than before when he was interested in something, he was–
“ Should I let you alone with your chocolate~?” you jerked your head toward Alice who had a teasing smile on her lips. You chuckled while shaking your head, blushing a little. You daydreamed again ! “ Why do you not want me to meet him, I really want to meet your beau, you know? I have never seen you like this, never did someone make you react like this.”
“ Listen… He is.. an important childhood friend and he can be … intense sometimes. I don’t think you could handle him.” you said as you sipped your drink. You didn’t feel comfortable making Alastor and Alice meet. You knew that Alastor could be an ass sometimes and Alice was too sweet to … understand it ? “ But back to the topic, what should I give him for his birthday …”
“ From what you told me, he seems to really care about you, and with this war going on, I’m sure he’d rather you kept your money.” she smiled at you as you bit your lips. That was the problem. Alastor was going to be 17 years, next year he would turn 18. That means he … would be taken to war right? You felt yourself getting paler as many scenarios went inside your head. 
The only good news was that his father had been dragged to war, unfortunately just like yours, meaning that Alastor and Marie were finally alone in their house.  After the hunting’s trip’s accident eight years ago, you’ve never trusted his father again. Many times you went to Marie’s house and each time her husband was home you could feel the tension lingering in the air. When he was here, you and Alastor would go outside, play with Husker, play tag or hide and seek. 
Alastor never really talked about his father, but you could sense that he hated him. But you didn’t know why and one day, you tried to push on the subject, you wanted to help him in any way possible. 
This was the first time Alastor had raised his voice at you. 
“ Are you okay?” you lifted your head toward your friend. “ He won’t go to war, from what the paper says, it seems like it’s going to end soon!” she smiled at you as she took your hand in hers. You sighed, praying that you would never have to send Alastor to war. Alastor has tried to reassure you by saying that if he were to go to war, he would be an amazing soldier.
War is like a big hunt.
“ Yes, yes… I think I’m going to go home. I need to finish some homework and I don’t want to leave my mother alone.”
“ Did Delilah steal your work again?”
“ I think, but who cares, I’ll just do it again… Well, your beautifulness, might I walk you home?” you bowed as she laughed and you began to walk toward the richest quartier of New Orleans. You gossiped with Alice about what happened during this school’s week. She was so sure John was interested in pursuing a relationship with you. You rolled your eyes at her, she always liked love’s story. 
You did too, you weren’t going to lie, but when you thought about your future with a husband… You thought about–
“ Well, here we are! Are you sure you don’t want to stay here, I made cupcakes this morning!” she exclaimed with a big grin. You smiled at her, saying you really needed to go home. 
You waved her goodbye and walked home. You tried to make your way home quickly, if you were lucky, a letter from your father would be waiting for you at home. You had prayed each day that once the stupid war was over, he would come back alive. You opened your house’s door and went inside, hurrying toward the living room.  Did your father sended you a letter ?
“ Look who’s here~”
You turned around with a big smile, feeling your heart thumb loudly in your chest. How could he make you react like this everytime?
“ Alastor !” You hugged him before kissing him on both cheeks. Alastor had stopped flinching when you were touching him, even more surprising , he was very clingy with you. Always being in your personal space like he owned it. 
“ Seems like someone drank hot chocolate but didn't bother wiping her mouth.” he wiped your bottom lips with his gloved hand. You flushed as he stared at your mouth, keeping his finger on your lips. You could see your own reflection in his glasses. Unlike before, you couldn’t read Alastor as easily as when he was a child, unless you were alone together and mister decided to be “vulnerable” with you.  But you… You always felt safe and most of all, you felt seen.
Alastor always had a glint in his eyes when he was looking at you. You’ve never seen him look at something or someone else like this… And you liked it. Was it selfish to crave his attention… maybe not. You both were friends, special friends, childhood friends… But, Oh Lord, sometimes you craved more, but you didn’t know what. If Alastor was looking at you like this as a friend, how would he look at his future wife? 
“ Oh my dear, you look starving.”
You gasped as you took a step back while Alastor was smirking at you, his arms folded behind his back. You stuck your tongue to him, like you used to, you were maybe a young lady now, but with Alastor you were… yourself.
“ Young lady ! Didn’t I tell you to stop sticking your tongue ! I’m sorry, Alastor.” said your Mother while Marie, who was just behind her, was laughing behind her hand. “ Good Lord, when you both are together you are back to being children, God preserve me.” she sighed as she went into the kitchen.
“ Yes, listen to your Mother. Keep your tongue inside your pretty mouth.” teased Alastor as he sat on the sofa with his usual mocking smile. “ Now my dear, do you have news to share with me?”
You sat on the other side of the sofa and began to gossip as you usually did. There weren’t any microphones or notes like when you were children, but it was the same as your broadcast like you used to do in his bedroom. Just you and Alastor, gossiping about your daily life.
“ And then Alice said that John was interested in me but I think he just–”
“ Should I be alarmed ? It’s not the first time I heard this name ?” teased Alastor as he took off his glasses to clean them with a tissue from his chest pocket.
“ Which one? Alice? She wants to meet you…” you mumbled and tensed when you saw Alastor’s smile.
“ Well, why didn't you say so! I would be delighted to meet the darling that blesses my sweet little friend with her presence when I’m not here!” he exclaimed as he stood up. You jumped off the sofa as you forced him to sit back down. 
“ No Alastor !”
“ Oh come on my dear, do you want to keep me all to yourself ? How bold.” he smiled as he watched you struggle to keep him sitting. You groaned and decided to just sit on his lap to keep him from standing up. So there you were on your knees on each side of his thighs. You heard him inhale deeply, his hand gripping the sofa. Don’t blushed, don’t blushed, don’t blushed…
“ How bold, indeed, dear…” he stared at you, without his glasses. There it was. That glint. The one who made you… Feeling strange. You didn’t know if you were scared or…or what? There was something lingering in the air... He opened his mouth but you cut him off.
“ What do you want for your birthday ?”
His body tensed for a second, staring straight at you before he relaxed himself and laughed, tilting his head backward. He shook his head as he rolled his eyes.
“ Well, just like always. Celebrating with you and Mother. What could I ask for more?” he smiled at you but as you tried to stand up from his thighs, he grabbed your waist and pulled you near his face. “ Should we invite John?”
“ Who–? Wait, John? Why?” you frowned as you looked at his smile which seemed tense. He was grabbing your waist tighter now. His grip should hurt you but.. it was oddly comfortable. Why did he suddenly change–?
“ Wait… Are you jealous?” you smiled as you saw his smile twitched. “ Yes, yes, you are. Haha !” you laughed hoping you sounded mocking, but even to your ears, you almost sounded pleased, relieved. You squeaked as he pinned you to the sofa and began to tickle you. You squirmed as your laughter was getting louder and louder, gasping for air.
“ Do you remember the rules, dear?” he asked with a cunning smile, knowing perfectly that you couldn’t answer right now. “ Rule number one:  Never drop your guard.” he stopped tickling you “ Go on dear. Rule number two?” he tilted his head toward you, staring at your red and teary face.
“ You are the strongest here.” you gasped as you tried to wipe your tears that threatened to stream down your face but Alastor holded both of your wrist in one hand.
“ Rule number three.” 
“ I give up…” you breathed as you closed your eyes. You felt his head next to yours, his lips almost touching your ears. 
“ Give up yourself to me.”
Your eyes opened suddenly, feeling your body being hot. You looked at Alastor who was above you but he seemed confused. He tilted his head as he watched your expression.
“ Are you okay, you look almost as red as Eamon ?” he laughed at you as he stood up, putting his glasses back on.
“ What did you just say?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper.
“... You look almost as red as Eamon?” you shook your head as you sat up and stared at him. He seemed really confused, did you imagine this? Is it what you wanted to hear? You groaned as you hid your face in your head, it was because of Alice’s stories, your mind was playing tricks on you now! “ By the way dear, it seems like you have a letter.” he said as he held a letter to you. It was from your father ! 
You took the letter from his hand with a happy grin, the letter was already open, surely your mother, and read what your father wanted you to know. He was okay, he missed you but mostly there were rumors about how the war will be soon over. you sighed in relief. Your father would come home. You just knew it. You looked at Alastor who was observing your face.
“ You still have no news from your father?”
“ No, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been killed for insubordination.” he said with detachment as he looked at his nails. You nodded before turning your head toward the entrance where you heard a knock. You stood up and went to open the door and froze.
“ Alice ?”
“ I’ll be quick, you forgot your bag at the coffee shop.” she smiled as she held your bag toward you. 
“ How… But… You went back to the coffee shop?”
“No, no, a gentleman came to my door and asked if the bag was mine.”
“ Alice… A man came to your door with my bag and you are not worried ? How did he know where you lived ? Does that mean he followed us?” you forced her to enter your house, looking outside “ What does he look like?” You squealed as you were jerked inside the house by your dress. You turned to see Alastor who was staring at you, with a pissed expression, his smile still present.
“ Are you dumb? If there is a man who is following you, why would you show your face, confirming that you are living here.” he asked you coldly. You closed the door quickly. 
“ The man isn’t here for me, if he is here. He didn’t follow me, he followed her.” you pointed to Alice. “ You can understand that, I mean, look at her.” 
You watched as Alastor looked at Alice. You couldn’t see his face but you saw Alice’s who seemed to try to make herself even smaller than she was. He shook her hand with his usual charming smile you guessed.
“ Quite a pleasure to be meeting you, I’ve heard a lot of you. You seemed like a clever woman, I would have never guessed that you would walk down the street with a soon to be stalker at your feet, bringing this man to my dear friend’s door!” 
“ N-nice to be meeting you, sir. I’m.. I’m sorry..?” Alice stared at you, begging you with her eyes to do something. You sighed, you have told her Alastor was intense.
“ No, no, No need to be sorry. It is not your fault, but the gentleman’s one. You both shouldn’t stay outside alone.”
“ Alastor, maybe we are overthinking. Maybe he was a nice gentleman–”
“ Oh my friend, hush.” he turned to Alice “ What did he look like?”
You watched as Alice described the man’s appearance. You were dumbfounded. Did Alastor just shush you? You crossed your arms on your chest as you pouted, watching both of your friends talking. They looked good together… You bit your lips. No. Alice wouldn’t be able to stay an entire day with Alastor. You stomped your foot on the floor and you clapped your hand together.
“ Well, dear friends of mine, go into the living room, I'll go with some drinks.”
“ No, no, I won’t bother you any longer. I’m going home.” 
“ I’ll accompany you.Stay here.”
You stared in shock as Alastor went into the kitchen where your mothers were. Did he just say what you thought he said? Alice came closer to you and winked at you.
“ He seems like a good man, keep it up.”
Alastor came back with his jacket on, he opened the door for Alice and left without kissing you goodbye. You stared at the closed door. Did Alastor fall for Alice, like every boy she met? You ran to your room, and jumped on your bed, burying your face in your pillow. Did he really leave, leaving his mother? you threw your pillow on the wall.
“ To hell with him ! I don’t need him.” you said as you wiped the tears that you haven’t even felt falling down your cheeks. You went to the bathroom, ignoring your mother and Marie’s question about your teary eyes. You washed up, put on a nightgown and went into your bed. You stared at the wall before closing your eyes. You couldn’t fall asleep, you were imaginiting Alice and Alastor walking down the road, hands in hands. You felt tears whelming up in your eyes. You didn’t care! You didn’t! 
You didn’t know how long you kept thinking about it but you were still awake when you felt a hand stroking your cheeks. You sighed , nuzzling your cheek against the hand. You guessed your mother was coming to comfort you even though she didn’t know why you were upset.
“ Dear friend, why are you crying?”
You sat up immediately and stared at the person in front of you.
“ Alastor…Why are you here?” you asked as you held the cover against you. You didn’t want him to see you like this. Crying over him. You were too proud. And you weren’t crying for him! 
“ Well, I came to give you your kiss, dummy.” he approached his face toward you, staring at your eyes. “ But why are you crying? Is it because of the man?” his eyes went cold, his smile widened but there was no warmth like usual. He seemed.. menacing. “ Did he come here? Did he touch you? Where?”
 You just stared at him as tears were falling down your cheeks. It seemed like seeing you cry made him more and more upset.
“ This bastard was here? I fucking walked your little friend home so I could see if someone was lingering around here and that bastard had the nerve to come and–”
You didn’t know what came over you, you covered his face with your blanket and you kissed the place where the blanket covered his lips. He froze. You pressed your lips against the tissue and then slowly, stepped back.  You stared at him, his face still covered…
“ No.. I was just… afraid that you would leave me for Alice.” you whispered looking at his frame. Seeing that he didn’t remove the blanket, you understood that… he knew that both of you would not be talking about what is happening right now. “ She is a beautiful lady, and she is interesting, sweet… a perfect lady you would say.”
“ Don’t put words in my mouth dear.” You chuckled as he moved his hand toward your cheek, wiping your tears away. “ So, you thought she was going to take me away from you? How absurd. Nothing could tear me away from you, not even yourself.”
You stopped breathing at this confession, your heart beating even stronger. You didn’t know what to do with all of your feelings. You were just so relieved that Alastor saw your friendship like you did.
“ Can I take off your blanket now?”
You laughed and uncovered his face, his warm smile was back, his glint in his eyes even more present. You looked away, fidgeting with your nightgown. You needed to erase the tension quickly.
“ You look like an absolute mess my dear friend! I’ll let you rest and please, do get your beauty sleep unless you want to crack every mirror you shall see.” he laughed as you tried to hit him with a pillow. He kissed you on the forehead, giggling before leaving your bedroom. “ See you soon, doll~!”
You fell on your bed with a big smile and hid your face into your pillow.
You didn’t know what happened but it made your feel better.
Tag List: lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie
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azlrse · 2 days
Text
➳ 10 years later (a sol brugmansia x gn!spouse!reader drabble)
cw: yandere themes, mentions of murder & injuries (in the past), themes of obsession and possessiveness, mc and sol had a kid together (consensually & can be depicted as biological/adopted), ooc!sol (writing him for the first time), domestic au, overall fluff w/ a bit of angst
a/n: there's only a few fics of sol from tkatb vn and im a bit disappointed ngl so imma contribute (and planning on writting for tkatb hehe). but pls note that this game is for adults (18+) only and respect the creator's wishes in terms of playing the game (minors stay away plss)
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"papa.." a small voice snapped the thoughts of sol as he stared into the painting he created a decade ago; a painting whom he considered as a masterpiece, a memorabilia and serves as a core memory of his entire life. sol's head turned downward and saw his own daughter raising her hands indicating that she wants to get some upsies. (e/c) colored eyes stared at his reddish ones, now soften as he picks up the little girl from the ground. "yes, munchkin?" sol replied to hazel, her little fingers pointing at the figure next to her father.
his head turned to see what, or whom rather, his little girl is pointing towards. "who's the person next to you?" he stared your portrait next to him, dressed in an all white attire while holding a bouquet of forget-me-nots and a brugmansia flower is seen on the top of your head as a gleaming smile is shown on the portrait.
the same portrait he painted all those years ago.
he looks at hazel, an awestruck smile is seen on his face. "that's your mama/dada. they're looking majestic and radiant, aren't they?" the little girl nodded in return, jumping within his arms as if to express on what her father is saying is true all along. "mama/dada is indeed radiant! like a shooting star passing through the sky!" sol let out a soft chuckle at his daughter's answer.
that remind of sol about someone, where are you anyway?
just as he is about to ask hazel on where you are, the door opened revealing his precious spouse, carrying loads of paper bags from the trip to the grocery store. hazel quickly jumped off from her father and quickly clinged into your leg. "mama/dada, you're home!!" she squeaked and giggled as you continuously walked into the kitchen whole carrying what you've bought an hour ago. "hazel, watch it or you might hit your head on the ground." you said out of concern, placing the bags on the counter quickly and carried your daughter into your arm, giving her a kiss on the forehead.
"no kisses for me?" sol teasingly asked while giving you a pouty face. "of course, you deserve one too, dear." putting down hazel on the ground, you quickly leaned in and kissed him on the lips and felt a pair of hands on your waist, pulling you closer towards his black tank top. hazel let's out a gag, trying to separate the both of you from your declaration of love from one another. "that's disgusting!" hazel exclaimed, pulling her father off of you. "I want more kisses mama/dada!!" you laughed from the commotion that took place in front of you.
"one day, you'll be just like this with someone you truly love, zel." you spoke, still clinging into your husband's arm. "don't wanna, that's disgusting." hazel replied, pouting as her arms crossed in between her chest. her father shrugged and proceeded to place a kiss on your cheek. "who knows," sol said, staring directly at you. "you may find someone whom you considered as a soulmate, like your mama/dada here."
your eyes widen a bit from being flustered, slapping his arm lightly. "oh hush you, you never failed to make me like this even after 10 years of marriage." a laugh emitted from the both of you as hazel continuously pouted from her parents answer. the sound of laughter faded away from his ears and only what's left is the sound of ringing. from the inner depths of sol's mind, he will never forget how far he can go for him to obtain this domestic life.
all the bloodshed..
his possessiveness..
the smell of iron and the familiar grip of a sharp object..
obsession and greed to keep (m/c) all to himself..
and all thanks to that, he obtained the family he always wanted, a family that is far more different than his. no abuse, no bruises or harm is present within his little family. just you, his precious pumpkin and his little munchkin.
he hopes that you'll never know the truth on what happened to crowe. who knows? maybe he went on another country to pursue his master's or doctorate? or perhaps also having a family of his own and awaiting for his message to meet his children.
or is it??
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final a/n: named the daughter 'hazel' since it's associated with autumn and pumpkins (the endearment sol referring to the player), couldn't picked a better name i apologize :'>>
Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites. Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕
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pb524830 · 12 hours
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clean up nice
part: 2 ;) pairing: paige bueckers x reader word count: 2.3k c/w: this is just straight filth i'm sorry a/n: miami post had me acting up! just kidding but not really but someone asked for a part two of this :)
The afterparty is small, in a suite at the hotel we’re all staying at. It’s just me, Paige, Azzi, Aaliyah, Nika, and Aubrey, along with the coaches and staff. The intimacy of it is sweet, comforting… until Paige’s hand lands on my thigh. Me, her, and the other girls are sitting on the couch. Paige is turned to Nika, talking to her quietly. She’s changed into something more casual - dark pants and a dark crop top, her gray boxers peeking out from the waistband of her cargos, a Seattle Storm cap balanced on her head. 
Fuck if she doesn’t look fucking devourable.
I’m sitting next to her, cross-legged, answering some work emails. Deliberately, she places her hand on my leg, just above my knee, and squeezes. I shoot her a small smile, returning to my phone. “You look stressed,” she murmurs, leaning forward so her lips are next to my ear. “All good,” I reassure her. Her fingers press into my bare skin, moving upward. “Do you wanna go? We can… relax.”
I don’t miss the suggestive tone to her voice, or the way her fingers are pushing my dress as they move further up my thigh. “Paige,” I whisper, warning. “Come on,” she urges and I shut my eyes. 
“We should take a picture!” Nika exclaims suddenly. Immediately, I shoot to my feet. “I’ll take it!” I volunteer. I’m met with immediate protests that I should be in the picture, but I wave them off. I fish my disposable camera out of my purse, and get to work posing them so that the picture is as good as I want it. “Nika, lean into Paige a little…” I instruct. My eyes flicker to Paige’s.
When she’s sure my eyes are on her, she spreads her legs and slouches back. Her hand lands on her leg, bracing it high on her thigh. She stares me down through hooded eyes, smirking sensually. “Take the picture, ma,” she calls. I shake my head, leaning back to capture all four of them on the couch. Once I’ve taken a few, I shove the camera back in my purse, trying desperately to ignore the fact that my panties are probably soaked. “I’m gonna get a drink,” I tell them hastily. I feel Paige’s eyes burning into my back as I retreat.
I’m filling a cup with vodka and cranberry juice when I feel her arms snake around my waist. Her head falls to my neck, lips ghosting over my shoulder. “You good?” She asks. “Mmm,” I murmur. “Room’s right upstairs,” she reminds me. “You’re so fucking horny,” I whisper, but the way her hand spans my waist has me clutching at the bottle of vodka for support.
“Can’t help it.” She presses an open mouthed kiss against my shoulder. “My girl so fine.”
“Paige, please,” I mutter, urging her to maintain some kind of decorum.
“Still needa take this dress off and fuck you.”
I sigh, the alcohol I’ve already consumed making me just as dizzy as her hands and words.
“You’d like that, huh?”
“Yes.”
“So easy for me, hm? Let me make you feel good, baby.”
My resolve is dampening.
“Wanna watch your pussy when you come for me this time. Wanna taste you so bad, wanna hear you scream my na-”
I groan, shoving her off of me and grabbing her hand. We make a beeline for the door, and I don’t miss the knowing smirk she shoots Aubrey. I push her into the elevator, and she turns, smirking down at me. “Quit it,” I tell her, before she can open her mouth. She shuts her mouth immediately, her grin still evident. 
We get to the hotel room, and as soon as the door shuts, Paige has me against it, her tongue in my mouth. She kisses me languidly, claiming my mouth, kneading my ass to draw out all the sounds she wants to hear. I push her back, shoving her onto the bed. Her gaze is hungry, tongue darting out to lick her lips. “Take your pants off,” I breathe. Her eyes darken, but she unbuttons them, slipping out of them. I step closer, reaching for the zipper on my dress. “Shirt,” I order. She shrugs that off too, and I nearly fall to my knees when I realize she isn’t wearing a bra.
She’s on the bed in just her boxers when I slide the dress down my body and step out of it. Paige tips her head back, groaning at the sight. “I’m so fucking lucky,” she mumbles, looking back to me and shaking her head. I scoff, stepping into her space to dance my hand over her abs. “Me? Look at you, fuck.”
“You like that?”
“You know I do.”
“Forgot how much you like my abs. You wanna ride them?” She grins at me wickedly.
I bite my lip, staring down at her with wide eyes. “Please,” I breathe, putting some whine in my tone.
She sits back against the pillows, and the up and down of her breathing flexes her stomach. I’m salivating at the thought of dragging my clit up and down her torso. “Whatever you want, ma,” she intones. I slip out of my panties, tossing them at her. She shakes her head, beckoning me closer. I crawl onto the bed, straddling her waist.
Paige’s hands latch to my hips, rubbing my ass. “Come on. Ride it.”
I lower myself slowly, my cunt screaming for contact. Then I rock against her and moan. Loud.
“Lemme hear you.”
I rock back again, throwing my head back. “Oh, my God,” I gasp. 
“So fucking pretty.”
I whine, speeding up a little. It’s too much. It’s too little. My hands grapple for my breasts.
“Fuck. Yes, play with your tits like that. You look so fucking hot right now, baby, please.”
Her hands come up to play with her own tits, massaging, pulling at her nipples, and when she moans, my hips stutter. “Don’t stop,” she begs. “Please, do not fucking stop.” I bat her hands away, replacing them with my own.
My hips speed up as I knead her tits, pinching her nipples as her large hands land on my ass, working me faster. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” I sigh, my voice cracking as I take in the sight of her lust-glazed eyes, her perfect, perky tits, her jaw slack, mouth open.
“Fucking getting off on my abs. So fucking- fucking dirty, shit.”
I moan, falling against her, the rivulets of pleasure shooting from my clit through my body. “I’m gonna come, Paige.” 
Her hands at my ass move my hips faster, and I buck against her, chasing my release desperately. 
“You close? Fuck, you’re close, come on. Come for me, ma, just let go.”
“I’m almost- fuck! Oh, shit, shit, shit, Paige!”
“There you go. Good fuckin’ girl, there you go.”
I shake against her as the orgasm racks through me, moaning into her skin. She rocks my hips against her body until she’s sure the aftershocks have subsided. “You did so good for me baby,” she soothes, rubbing my back. Her hands lace into my hair down my back, fingers getting caught. “So good for me,” she murmurs absentmindedly.
I kiss her slowly, my body fucking exhausted, but her lips so painfully tantalizing. “I made a mess, baby, I’m sorry,” I whisper. She squeezes my ass. “Clean it up, then,” she says. I sit up suddenly, eyes shooting to hers. “What?” I whisper. Paige’s hand lands sharply against my ass, the slap stinging. “Clean up. Your fucking. Mess,” she repeats. I stare at her for a moment, then slide my pussy down her body, easing off of her to hover my mouth over her stomach.
Her abs look even better now, somehow, the shadows and highlights of them glistening with my slick. “Today, ma,” she drones. I place my tongue right above the waistband of her boxers, then lick all the way up to her nipple, taking that in my mouth and sucking it off with a pop. She groans a little. “Good girl.” I continue, lapping up all of my come, occasionally attending to her nipples. When I’m finished, she’s just about drooling, and I kiss back down her stomach.
Her boxers are wet where her arousal has soaked through, and I lick my lips. “You wanna taste, baby?” She asks. I pout at her. “So bad,” I whine. “Fuck, it’s all yours. All yours,” she sighs, tipping her head back as I kiss her cunt through her boxers. I slide them down her legs, discarding them elsewhere.
I don’t bother teasing, relishing in the way her back arches when I attach my mouth to her clit. I drag my tongue through her folds, lapping at her cunt diligently.
 I suck hard on her clit. “Fuuuuuuuck,” she moans, her throat scratchy with desire. My back arches at that, ass up in the air. “Look so fuckin- pretty, oh, fuck- between my legs.”
“So wet,” I moan, knowing the vibrations of my voice will make her crazy. They do, and a hand lands in my hair, pushing me down, hips bucking into my face. The other hand covers her eyes, and it’s fucking magical - the way her body responds to my mouth, her features screwed with pleasure, the words falling from her perfect pink lips.
She fucks herself against my mouth, and I smile, feeling her nails dig into my scalp, eating her out like she’s my last fucking meal. She tastes so good - so sweet and forbidden, dripping down my chin. I can hear my tongue moving through her slick, laving filthily through her folds.
“I’m close. Shit, I’m so close. Please. Don’t stop, don’t stop.”
“Come for me, baby.”
“I’m gonna- Yes, right there, right there, just like that. Oh, fuck! Fuck!”
She falls apart against me with my name on her lips, hips bucking erratically and I moan into her, working her through it. 
Finally, her hips still, body slumping against the bed. I crawl back up her body, kissing her lazily, letting her taste herself. “So good for me,” I murmur against her lips. “Make me feel… so fuckin’ incredible,” she tells me between kisses. “Wanna taste you, ma.”
“You’re tired,” I tell her, but my pussy is soaked from getting her off. Her hands run down my back, eyes searching mine. “Sit on my face, then,” she suggests casually. I’m too tired to react appropriately, so my eyes just widen. “Paige-”
She groans. “Please, baby. I need- I need to taste you. So fucking bad, you have no idea.”
“I’m gonna suffocate you,” I try to reason.
“Damn good way to go out,” she retorts, her voice raspy. 
“Please,” she begs, lips attaching to mine again, biting my bottom one as she pulls away. I sigh, moving my hands over her torso. “Okay,” I relent. She grins against me, moving me up to hover over her mouth. “I’m… still sensitive,” I warn. She smirks at me. “Never stopped me before.”
Then she’s shoving me against her mouth, and I’m moaning her name as filthily as anyone has moaned anyone’s name before, clutching at the headboard as her tongue licks and her mouth sucks and she pushes me down against her lips. She moans into me, and when I look down, her eyes are on me. A moan falls from my mouth, followed by a whimper, and her eyes roll up into her head.
I grind against her face, letting her devour me, feeling my climax already close. “Oh, yes, Paige. That’s so good. So good,” I sigh out, my stomach already tightening. She sinks her tongue into me in response, and I gasp, my head knocking against the headboard. Then her lips latch onto my clit and suck and suck and suck until-
“Paige!” I scream, my thighs shaking, but she holds them around her face, her grip strong. I nearly sob, riding it out, my forehead braced against the headboard.
She isn’t done, though, the tears streaking down my face, spurring her on.
Paige flips us over easily, shoving my thighs open, and burying her face in my cunt again, two ringed fingers fucking into my cunt without reservation. My back arches at the same time that my thighs clench around her face, my hand at her head trying to push her away, because it’s too much and it hurts. She fucks into my cunt relentlessly, tongue laving at my clit, her hand batting mine away before thrusting my thighs back open harshly.
They burn, but the pain is so fucking good. 
“It hurts,” I gasp, tears streaking down my face. “Take it,” she growls, and then I’m coming again, stars dotting the back of my eyelids. The room spins, and perhaps goes black for a second or two. Then - it’s the sight of Paige.
Her face is fucked out.
Her hair is a mess.
Her eyes are dark - so dark, I can hardly see the clear blue of her irises.
Her nose is shiny with me, my slick coating her signature smirk, and she looks so fucking proud.
She strokes my thighs. “You take it so good, ma. Always so good for me, right?”
I nod, chest still heaving, my eyes fluttering shut. “Come here,” I say, gesturing for her to come closer. She obliges, easing out from between my thighs to slide her body against mine, entwining us together. “Could make you come a million times, it still wouldn’t be enough,” she murmurs, kissing my forehead.
I laugh hoarsely, burying my face in her neck. “Could come for you a billion, and I’d still beg for one more.” I feel her smile against my hair. I pull back to look up at her. Her mascara has flaked down right underneath her eyelids, her pupils shrinking a bit to reveal that stark blue. “We should clean up,” she murmurs. I shake my head, burrowing further into her chest. “Leave it,” I say.
“For what?” She knows the answer.
“Tomorrow morning,” I grin.
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gamergirl929 · 2 days
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Age Is Just A Number (It Shouldn't Hold You Back) (Alex Morgan x Reader)
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If there was one thing you didn't expect when you joined the USWNT, it was to develop a relationship with Alex Morgan, one that consisted of playful teasing and flirting. Despite the fact that she was ten years your senior, something she continuously reminded you of, you couldn't help but fall for her, age be damned, now if only Alex felt the same way.
Your tongue swipes along your lips as you watch Alex Morgan move to her feet, the woman’s uniform now drenched thanks to the waterlogged pitch you were being forced to play on in the semifinals against Canada in the Women’s Gold Cup.  
You move past her, a smirk on your face.  
“Looking good, as always Morgan.” You tease, and she rolls her eyes, giving you a playful shove as you all gather in the box for the incoming corner kick. 
“Shut up.” She shakes her head, though she can’t bite back a smile.  
You lick your lips, watching as Rose Lavelle sets up the corner kick, her hand held high in the air as she prepares to fire the ball.  
The second the ball leaves her foot you know it’s yours, your teammates covered by the Canadian players.  
You leap into the air, using your height to your advantage, jumping high above the Canadian players defending you, the ball ricocheting of your head and inches past Kailen Sheridan’s gloved hands. 
You again jump into the air, throwing a fist above your head as your teammates surround you, ruffling your hair.  
Rose jumps into your arms, and you lift her in the air before twirling.  
“Nice corner as always Rosie.” You say, the woman giggling.  
You turn towards Alex, a smirk stretching across your face.  
“Are you impressed yet?” You flirt and she snorts, throwing an arm around your shoulders.  
“It WAS an impressive header.” She says and you snicker.  
“Don’t worry, you’ll fall for me soon.” You wink and she giggles, her cheeks flushing slightly as she makes her way towards her place on the field, ready to put the ball back into play.
***********************************************************************  
The whistle blows and you sigh in relief, your clothes sticking to your body considering the rain had started back up towards the end of the second half.  
A number of your teammates jog your way, Emily Sonnett in particular jumping on your back.  
“Way to use your freakish tallness to take us through to the finalssss!” Emily says, her chin resting on the top of your head and you snort.  
“I knew it was good for SOMETHING.” You snicker as the woman slides of your back before sprinting towards Lindsey and Rose.  
Meanwhile, you make your way towards Alex, a smirk stretching across your face.  
“So, what did you think of my performance?” You ask and she shakes her head.  
“Ehhh.” She says and you throw your head back with a groan.  
Alex nudges you with her hip.  
“I’m kidding, you did great.”  
You smile, throwing your arm around her middle, giving her side a squeeze, something that makes her cheeks flush.  
“I do have to admit...” You say, leaning towards her, the proximity between you making her cheeks darken.  
“I really like seeing you all wet.” You wink and she gives you a shove.  
“Stop it.” She says, sticking her tongue out.  
“I already told you, I’m too old for you.” She says exasperatedly and you shrug.  
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” You bite your bottom lip, noting the way Alex’s throat bobs.  
“Y/N?” You turn, smiling when you see that you’re being waved over for an interview.  
You back away from Alex, your eyes raking down her front, your tongue swiping at your lips.  
“I think you’re JUST the right age for me.” You smirk, sending her another wink before jogging towards the waiting analyst.  
Alex groans, rolling her eyes.  
Despite the fact that Alex had told you multiple times that she was far too old for you, you continued to flirt relentlessly.  
In all honesty, she HAD thought about it, but she knew you should be with someone your own age, not someone 10 years your senior.  
“Mommyyyy!”  
Alex smiles scooping Charlie up in her arms as she darts across the field, her little arms wrapping around her neck.  
Not only was she 10 years your senior, but a mother as well, meaning her number one priority was Charlie, and would always be Charlie.  
Across the field, you watch the pair with a soft smile.  
“Jesus Christ, do you ever think of ANYTHING else?” Emily asks, throwing an arm around you and you grin.  
“Hey, you can’t blame me for trying.” You smirk, unable to take your eyes off the forward as she makes the way around the field, Charlie in her arms.  
“I mean, Alex IS milf material.” Emily shrugs, not realizing Kelley was standing behind her.  
“I’m totally going to tell her you said that.” The older woman snickers and Emily’s eyes widen, her cheeks flushing.  
“You wouldn’t dare...!” She says, chasing after Kelley as she sprints towards Alex.  
You shake your head as you turn, shaking your opponent’s waiting hands.  
You knew deep down you probably never had a chance with Alex Morgan, but there was no harm in flirting, was there?
************************************************************************
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were falling for me.” You tease as you hoist Alex to her feet after she goes down at practice.  
Alex’s blue orbs widen when you reach towards her face, delicately brushing a piece of grass off her forehead.  
She’s unable to stop her breath from hitching when your fingertips lightly graze her jawline, your eyes holding a softness she hadn’t seen all that often. 
You clear your throat, your cheeks flushing as your bravado completely shifts, a cocky grin stretching across your face.  
You send her a wink before making your back to your position on the field.  
Alex’s throat bobs as you lift your shirt, using it to wipe the sweat from your face, revealing the chiseled muscle that hid beneath your shirt.  
“Jan, you’ve got some drool on your chin.” Kelley teases as she jogs passed, earning a glare from the seasoned forward.  
“I do not.” She grumbles and Kelley snorts.  
“Could’ve fooled me.”  
Alex turns away with a growl, again finding you on the field as you sprint towards Emily Sonnett, sliding in and swiping the ball from her, the blonde playfully nudging you on her way by.  
Watching the interaction makes something stir within Alex, her blue orbs narrowing as she glares at the blonde.  
She clears her throat, giving her head a shake before making her way down field and back into the scrimmage, putting whatever was churning in her stomach at the back of her mind. 
************************************************************************
The more she saw you and Emily interact, the more her stomach churned, it didn’t take her long to realize exactly what she was feeling.  
It was jealousy.  
She tried her best to ignore it, but it continued to rear its ugly head.  
It was then she realized she needed to put distance between the two of you, she had to ignore what she was feeling, you deserved someone your own age, not someone 10 years older than you.  
It was in that moment she decided she had to put distance between the two of you, she had to ignore your constant flirting, she had to avoid you, she had to stop the feeling in her chest when she saw you with Emily Sonnett. 
************************************************************************
“Looking good as always Morgan.” You wink as the huddle breaks, your eyes widening when Alex completely ignores you and turns away, jogging onto the field.  
You frown, your brows knitted in confusion.  
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Emily asks, her hand resting on your back.  
You shake your head.  
“N-Nothing.” You mumble, slowly making your way towards the bench.  
Maybe she hadn’t heard you?  
Maybe she was so focused on the game that she just forgot to respond?  
Whatever it was, it made your heart ache.  
The whistle blows and you jump, pulled out of your thoughts when the fans cheer and the game ultimately starts.
************************************************************************
When the halftime whistle blows, you jog towards Alex, her throat visibly bobbing.  
“Showing off for me?" You tease, screeching to a halt when Alex silently walks past you, in no way acknowledging your presence.  
It was then you realize that she HAD heard you earlier, she'd just chose to ignore you, something that tears your heart in two.  
“Why the long face?” Emily asks as she slings her arm around your shoulders, your frown deepening.  
“Alex is ignoring me...” You mumble sadly, Emily’s brows furrow.  
“Did something happen between the two of you?” She asks and you shake your head, the two of you making your way towards the locker room.  
“Not that I know of.” You say, Emily humming.  
“Maybe she’s just focused on the game?” She says, her head cocked to the side, and you shrug dejectedly.  
“Yeah, maybe.”
************************************************************************
It turns out, Alex’s refusal to talk to you had absolutely nothing to do with the game considering once you’d gotten onto the bus, when you even looked in her direction, she turned away, shoving her air pods in her ears.  
Your shoulders hunch as you drop down into an empty seat, your head hanging sadly.  
“Hey, what’s wrong kid?” Kelley asks, rubbing your back on her way by and you shake your head.  
“Nothing.”  
Kelley scoffs, flopping down in the seat beside you.  
“That’s bullshit.” She says and you sigh deeply.  
“Alex won’t talk to me, and I don’t know why.” You mumble sadly, Kelley’s eyes narrowing, her brows furrow.  
“When did that start?” She asks, her brown orbs darting from you to the back of Alex’s head and back.  
“Today.” You swallow hard, wiggling in your seat.  
“Do you want me to talk to her?” Kelley asks, your eyes widening in horror as you turn abruptly towards her.  
“Please don’t, maybe she just wants space, I don’t know.” You shrug, Kelley studying your face for a moment before nodding.  
“Okay kid, but if you want me to, let me know.” She says, ruffling your hair, which makes you smile.  
“I will.”  
Kelley makes her way towards the back of the bus, taking a seat beside Emily.  
“Do you know what’s going on with Alex and Y/N?” She asks the blonde shrugging.
“Y/N just said she’s ignoring her.”  
Kelley hums, her brown orbs staring holes in the back of Alex’s head.  
She had no idea why Alex’s was ignoring you, but she intended to find out. 
************************************************************************
“What’s going on between you and Y/N?” Kelley asks that night when Alex makes her way into the room after taking a shower, the woman stiffening.  
“N-Nothing.” She says nonchalantly, refusing to look at the defender whose eyes narrow.  
“Emily said she tried to talk to you and that you ignored her.”  
Alex’s throat bobs, something her friend takes note of.  
“I-I just didn’t hear her.” She says, the excuse lame, even to her own ears.  
Kelley hums, eyeing the woman intently.  
“Well, it really upset her.” She comments, the thought of you being upset making her stomach lurch.  
“Oh, I didn’t realize.”  
Kelley hums, turning to her phone when it chimes, busying herself with whatever is on its screen.  
Alex turns away, her gaze falling to her lap.  
She knew it would be better for the both of you if you didn’t speak to one another at all.  
If you spoke again, the flirting would start back up and she wasn’t sure if she could handle that, not with the feelings currently stirring in her chest at just the thought of you.  
Alex takes a deep breath, laying back in bed, her head resting against the hotel’s pillows.  
She was convinced she was making the right decision, you deserved someone your own age, and that obviously wasn’t her. 
************************************************************************
Unfortunately for you, the remainder of your time spent together is much of the same, you attempting to speak to Alex, and Alex completely ignoring you.  
Needless to say, when you went home to Gotham FC, your tail was firmly trapped between your legs.  
“Come on kid, cheer up.” Kelley says as she slings an arm around your middle.
You whine.  
“I just don’t know what I did wrong.” You mumble sadly, Kelley frowning.  
“I don’t think you actually did anything wrong...” She sighs, running a hand down your back.  
“What do you mean?” You ask, your head cocked to the side, brows knitted in confusion.  
“Whatever is going on, it’s on her end, you didn’t do anything wrong.”  
Your eyes widen, a small smile ticking the corners of your mouth upward. 
“Really?” You whisper the older woman pulling you in and giving you a squeeze. 
“Really.” She says, her brown orbs widening at the sound of a whistle blowing. 
“That’s our queue.” She says as she darts across the field, twisting on her heels midway. 
“Just, don’t let it get to you, okay?” She smiles and you nod, jogging after her, hopeful that practice would take your mind off of the San Diego Wave captain.
************************************************************************
Your mind isn’t off of Alex Morgan long considering Gotham FC and San Diego Wave go head-to-head in a clash at Red Bull Arena soon after the international break.  
Much like she had during the Gold Cup, Alex refused to acknowledge your presence, avoiding you as much as possible, the only close contact you made with her being on the field.  
It’s only after the game that Alex approaches you, your heart stalling in your chest, the thought that the woman may acknowledge your presence making your heart race.  
That’s until she actually gets to you, her blue orbs darting to your Y/E/C’s before she turns away.  
“Good game.” She mumbles, refusing your outstretched hand and continuing to make her way around the field.  
You stay rooted in place, tears stinging your eyes as you watch Alex walk away.
Unbeknownst to you, Kelley O’Hara and Emily Sonnett had witnessed the exchange and needless to say, they were FAR from happy.  
“What the hell was that about?” Emily asks Kelley before jogging towards you, wrapping her arms around you from behind, pushing herself up on her tiptoes so her chin can rest on your shoulder.
“It’s okay.” She whispers in your ear, frowning when you turn in her hold, revealing the tears glistening in your Y/E/C eyes.  
Emily holds you tightly, shooting a glare over your shoulder at Alex when she catches her blue orbs. 
That’s not all she sees, however.  
She also sees Kelley stomping her way towards Alex, Alex’s eyes widening when she sees the look of anger on Kelley O’Hara’s face.  
“What’s-- 
“What’s your problem?” Kelley growls, the San Diego captain’s brows arching.  
“What do you mean?” She asks, dumbly and Kelley scoffs.  
“You know what I mean Jan, look at her.” She motions behind her at you, Emily’s arm wrapped tightly around your middle, the woman catching sight of the tears on your cheeks as the blonde guides you towards the benches, her hazel orbs narrowed as they meet Alex’s blues.  
“Do you even care about what you’re doing to her?” Kelley asks, Alex’s gaze falling to her feet, unable to look at the defender standing in front of her.  
“Of course I care.” She whispers and Kelley shakes her head.  
“It REALLY looks like it.” She growls, stepping closer to Alex, her voice dropping below a whisper.  
“The sooner you accept what you’re feeling for her, the sooner you’ll both be happy.”  
Alex’s head snaps upward, her eyes locking with Kelley’s.  
“I don’t have feelings for her.” She mumbles and Kelley scoffs, rolling her eyes.  
“That’s why you’re pushing her away, isn’t it?” She asks but gets no response.  
“You know, your age doesn’t matter.” She says, noting the bob of Alex’s throat.  
“It does Kel.” She mutters and Kelley rolls her eyes.  
“Yeah, only to you, no one else cares Al.” She shakes her head and Alex’s nostrils flare.  
“I’m a mom Kelley, I have more than just screwing around on my mind.”  
Kelley groans.  
“You do realize, it isn’t JUST about screwing around for her, right?” She asks, Alex’s brows knitting in confusion.  
Kelley pinches the bridge of her nose.  
“Her bravado is all an act Jan; she only acts that way because she’s afraid of facing her real feelings for you.”  She sighs deeply, watching as realization dawns on Alex’s face.  
It’s then that she spots you across the field, Charlie racing towards you, wrapping her tiny arms around your legs.  
Almost immediately, you lift her into the air with a small smile, giving her a playful spin, the little girl giggling wildly.  
“Oh.” Alex whispers, and Kelley snorts.  
“Yeah, oh.” She says with an annoyed eye roll.  
“Now, fix it.” She says before making her way towards the sidelines where her teammates have gathered.  
Alex turns back to you, her blue orbs catching your Y/E/C’s, the smile that graced your face shifting to a small frown as you slowly place Charlie on the ground and nod in Alex’s direction, the little girl sprinting towards her mother.  
It was in that moment, as you turned away from her, that she knew she had to fix it.
*********************************************************************** 
When you shuffled through your apartment that night, you were exhausted, not only from the physical exertion on the game, but emotionally as well.  
You never expected for Alex to ignore you directly to your face, but she did, and that fact made your heart ache.  
You still didn’t know what you did wrong, maybe you’d come off too strongly with your flirting?  
Maybe she’d finally realized that your bravado was only for show, used to mask your true feelings for the older woman. 
You flop down on your couch’s surface, your eyes fluttering shut, hopeful that sleep would take you momentarily.  
Just as you’re on the cusp of sleep, however, a light tapping makes your eyes flutter, open your brows furrowed in confusion.  
It isn’t long before the light taps repeat, and it’s then you realize that someone is knocking on your apartment door.  
You reluctantly leave your place on the couch before shuffling to the door and leaning against it.  
“Who is it?” You ask, your voice scratchy.  
You listen intently, a soft shuffling behind the door before a soft voice replies.  
“It’s Alex.”  
Silence envelopes the two of you before you slowly open the door, your brows furrowed as you peer through the crack, coming face to face with the woman who had been avoiding you for months.  
You pull the door the rest of the way open, your eyes studying Alex’s face intently, the woman shuffling nervously from foot to foot.  
“I’m sorry.” She suddenly blurts out, your eyes widening as Alex’s blue orbs remain focused on the floor. 
You find yourself taking a step to the side moments later, waving your arm, beckoning her to enter your apartment, something that she almost instantly does.  
Your throat bobs as you push the door shut behind her, your back to the older woman.  
You knew whatever was about to happen, there was no going back, but now you had no choice, you had to face Alex Morgan, you had to find out what was going on between the two of you.  
Your breath catches in your throat when a pair of arms wrap around you from behind, your heart racing when you feel Alex bury her face between your shoulder blades.  
You stiffen, unsure of what you should do, did you cover Alex’s hands with your own, or did you push her away? 
Subconsciously, your hands drift to Alex’s gently resting on top of hers, the woman sighing against your back.  
“I’m sorry I was so stupid.” She whispers, nuzzling against your back.  
Your heart swells in your chest, the feeling of her pressed against your back everything you’ve ever wanted and more.  
“Why did you ignore me...?” You ask, humming when Alex pushes her fingers between your own.  
“I was jealous.” She mumbles against your back, your brows furrowing as you turn in her hold.  
“Of what?” You ask, your hands finding their way to Alex’s waist.  
She shrugs, her breath hitching when you gently take her chin between your thumb and index finger.  
Her mouth opens and closes repeatedly before she sighs loudly.  
“Seeing you with Emily, I couldn’t help but think you deserved someone your own age.” She whispers and you shake your head, Alex’s breath hitching when you turn the tables, pressing her back against your apartment door.  
“I don’t want anyone my own age, I want you.” You whisper, Alex’s throat bobbing as her eyes dart from your Y/E/C orbs to your lips and back.  
Much to your surprise, she lunges forwards, her lips meeting yours in a tender, and long overdue kiss.  
You kiss back without hesitation, your palms resting on the wall on either side of Alex’s head as you kiss softly.  
Alex’s hands slip to the back of your neck, her fingers tangling in your hair as you kiss passionately.  
You’re unable to stop yourself from chuckling when you pull back, the woman pinned to the wall whining loudly as you bury your face in her neck, nuzzling her jawline.  
“Our first kiss and you’re already addicted.” You tease, earning an eye roll.  
“Shut up.” She mumbles before pulling you back in for another kiss.  
Eventually, you make your way to the couch, Alex’s pinned beneath you as you kiss softly, giggling loudly when you bury your face in her neck, peppering her flesh with kisses.  
You pull back reluctantly, your eyes locking with Alex’s bright blue orbs.  
She smiles softly when you lean in, kissing her lips over and over again until she starts laughing.  
It isn’t long before you’re lowering yourself on top of her, her legs spread as you rest your head against her chest, the woman drawing small patterns against your back.  
You nuzzle into the crook of her neck, your eyes fluttering shut as your heart rate slows, your earlier exhaustion making itself known.  
“What does this mean for us...?”  You slur, unable to fight your fluttering eyelids as they close.  
Alex hums, her lips parting to answer, that is until she realizes you’d drifted off. 
She holds you tightly to her chest, feeling you smile against her neck as you nuzzle closer.  
“It means I’m going to stop being such an idiot and worrying about what others think, and worry about what I want, and that’s you.” She turns her head, kissing your forehead before her own eyes flutter shut. 
Thankfully, Kelley had offered to keep Charlie for the night, meaning she could remain where she currently was, your body weight on top of her as you slept soundly in her arms. 
You were the first to wake the next morning, beaming when you realized that what had happened the following night wasn’t a dream, Alex Morgan was fast asleep beneath you, her arms wrapped tightly around you as she slept peacefully, a smile on her face.  
You hum, burying your face back in her neck as you fall back asleep, eager to see what the future held for you and Alex Morgan.  
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vivalarevolution · 21 hours
Text
𝓐 𝓛𝓾𝓬𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓤𝓷𝓲𝓸𝓷
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Feyd Rautha x Reader
Request: „Feyd with Reader from a lower house. Readers family has been making good moves to gain the barons favor and they have resources the Baron can't turn down. He offers Feyd in a marriage alliance, much to his nephews suprise.‟
A/N: I apologize in advance for such a delay but I was out of town , unable to write. Request written by anon. A very interesting concept that I thoroughly enjoyed writing.
Please remember that english is not my native language, I do not use it on a daily basis, so mistakes can or will happen.
Work contains smut, so minors do not interact.
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She was a pawn. From the moment she left her mother's womb she became a pawn. The galaxy forced this role on her without her knowledge or consent. And she could only watch helplessly.
When Baron Vladimir Harkonnen proposed an arranged marriage between her and his youngest nephew her role was reminded once again. And just as before, she could only watch helplessly as her father agreed , without even looking at her.
Because he was driven by greed , greed for which he had to pay the price. A price in the form of his eldest daughter.
And when she found herself in front of her betrothed something crawled to the surface , something erotic. From the moment their eyes met , there was a lustful tension that grew and grew.
Feyd had never met someone like her. He was used to women who were pale , hairless, slender and almost melancholic. She was different. Her head was adorned with soft hair ,cascading down her back like a waterfall. Her face was decorated with rosy cheeks and full, kissable lips. Her body was curvy, shaped almost like the goddesses from the ancient books of Old Terra. Her eyes hid the passionate desire that he wanted to feel in every way imaginable.
And when he found her alone, wandering through the dark corridors of the keep , he decided to capture her.
-Are you following me , my lord na-Baron? - she asked , with a shadow of curiosity in her voice , looking at him out of the corner of her eye.
-You are walking around my fortress. I want to make sure you don't do something you shouldn't - he replied, approaching her, slowly, like a predator to its prey.
-That doesn't change the fact that you're following me - she whispered, turning her head so that she could get a full look at the man's face, his sharp jawline, full lips and cold eyes that made him even more handsome and dangerous.
-And what if you were right ,what if I did ? - he purred, coming closer and closer, so close that their breaths mingled with each other.
-Then I would wonder what have I done to caught the attention of Feyd Rautha himself - she replied , brushing her lips against his with every word she spoke.
-You are to be my wife - he said , placing his hands on her hips, moving them unnoticeably higher ,towards her waist -Isn't that reason enough?
-I do not entirely believe that this is the real reason my lord na-Baron -she proclaimed , covering his hand with hers , stopping his movements.
-What do you think the real reason is? - he asked, touching her cheek, moving his thumb lazily over her skin, making her shiver because of his cold , silver ring.
-You desire me as much as I desire you my lord na-Baron - she whispered into his mouth , looking deeply into his blue eyes , which were burning with want.
Feyd pushed her roughly against a nearby wall , hanging over her smaller body. His hands captured her loins , drawing her closer to him.
-You're walking on a very thin line - he growled , sliding his lips along her neck.
His tongue tasted her flesh , while his teeth bit the soft skin of her throat.
-Forgive me - she breathed out, placing her palms on his muscular torso -Forgive me because I said words that I shouldn't have.
-What do you mean? - he asked, looking at her from the corner of his eye, his nose gliding over the pulse on her neck.
-I feel a need that I have never been able to feel…And I can't control it - she confessed, looking at him from under her long lashes.
-You don't have to - he stated , whispering directly into her ear.
-I have to…because this need…I want my husband to feel it, my lover - she replied, escaping from his embrace.
However, the Baron's nephew did not let her go , even for a single step, before she again found herself in his arms.
-You think I will let you run away? - he asked, pressing her body against his -That I will let you awaken in me a desire I have never felt before and watch helplessly as you leave me…I will not let you.
The woman turned her head in his direction.
-I thought you prefer a challenging chase , easy prey is not of value to you - she admitted , running her gaze towards the dark corridor , the end of which could not be seen - Besides…the walls here seem to have eyes and ears my lord na-Baron , and this could ruin your hunt - she whispered , feeling how besides Feyda's eyes , there was something else hiding in the darkness.
The man followed her gaze , watching the void engulfing them until he heard a single movement , which made him move like a beast of prey , having found his victim.
The woman seizing her chance , disappeared into the abyss of the corridors , leaving na-Baron , who returned to their meeting place moments later , with blood on his hands and a thirst that burned him alive. But she was no longer there.
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When there was nowhere to run , he captured her once again. His gaze alone held her in place , as she stood before him so innocent , so delicate , in a white , lace dress that changed color when their blood merged with each other , uniting them forever . Feyd relished the sight of his wife , once so pure , now soiled with the blood he wanted to lick off her body , exchanging his oaths in a voice as cold as ice while his eyes burned with lust.
And when it was finally time to hunt , he felt the beast inside him tearing his way out.
-The time for the hunt has come - the priestess announced.
Na-Baron watched as the woman looked at him confused , but he only grasped her body in response , drawing her close to him.
-You won't run away from me this time…but I'll let you try - he whispered, before he let go of her body, watching as she moved in haste , flying away like a small bird that finally got its freedom , not knowing that a hungry wolf was right behind her.
Feyd let her disappear from his sight before he went after her. His steps echoed through the abandoned halls , but he didn't care , because he wanted her to know that he was coming for her , that he was close , so very close. He stalked her every move, always being one step ahead of her, even though she was still far away.
Until there was nowhere to run.
He found her in his chambers, naked , kneeling on the black satin sheets adorning his bed. She was looking at him, waiting.
He cupped her chin between two fingers, stroking the soft skin of her cheeks, while his thumb traced her full, red lips.
-I truly believed that you would give me a worthy chase. But you're lying here ready for me to devour you - he groaned , sliding his hand down her throat.
-Maybe I've grown tired of waiting for you to catch me, my lord husband - she confessed, rising gently, just enough to brush his lips with hers.
He tightened his fingers on her neck , pulling her closer , attacking her mouth. His kisses were sensual and brutal like him , taking the breath from her lungs as her hands tried desperately to strip him of his clothes , which kept her from feeling his pale skin on her fingertips.
-Aren't you desperate , little wife? - he murmured , inot her mouth
-Please…- she whispered.
Feyd moved away from her , leaving behind the feeling of need on her flesh. His hands stripped off his clothes at a slow pace , relishing in the way his wife , gazed at each , new piece of the skin he uncovered.
And when he got rid of everything that could separate them, he hovered over her just like the night they first met , kissing the skin of her collarbones , heading lower and lower , towards her ample breasts , her round hips and firm thighs.
-Feyd - she whispered, addressing him by name for the first time - What are you doing? - she asked, looking at him.
-I want to taste you , I need to know if you taste as sweet as your blood - he murmured, kissing her inner thigh.
Before the woman had time to reply to his words, his tongue touched her swollen clit, swirling around the pink pearl, making her uncontrollably thrust her pelvis forward, imprisoning the man in the softness of her thighs. Na-Baron , in response, growled, clamping his hands on her body, drawing her impossibly closer, feasting. His mouth explored her womanhood, kissing and licking every part, leaving nothing without his attention. He was bestial, greedily sipping her juices, which tasted like the sweetest dessert of his life, as his eyes stared at the woman before him, who was consumed by the convulsions of pleasure that tore through her body, making her burst into flames that consumed her mind. Feyd watched in delight as she broke under the impact of her orgasm, licking everything she gave him, feeling her muscles go limp under his fingertips and seeing her eyes cloud over with uncontrollable desire.
Without giving her time to recover , he lifted her trembling body , laying it on top of him , sitting down himself , leaning against the headboard of the massive bed.
-You will ride me my little wife , you will ride me until darkness appears in front of your eyes and your body stops listening to you - he growled , marking her neck with purple marks and angry red bites.
The male, grabbed her thighs, entered her slowly, unable to wait a moment longer. His shaft was so big, so thick, that his wife felt as if something was tearing her from the inside, feeling it deep in her belly. So deep that she couldn't breathe properly.
The movements of his loins were strong and rough. His member was kissing her cervix alternately with hitting a spongy point that made her walls clench so tight that no matter how hard he pressed, he couldn't move. The woman was coming out to meet his thrusts, trying to catch up with him, trying to catch the sweet release he had given her a few seconds ago , already addicting to it. Arching her back and exposing herself completely, she wanted him to touch her and don't stop , never stop. And then she felt it. A mass of burning heat flooding her belly. She didn't know anymore whether it was her body that gave her that electrifying heat or maybe it was Feyd's warmth, but she accepted it, she accepted everything.
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megistusdiary · 21 hours
Note
If Arlecchino sees you as a replacement for her childhood friend (Clervie) and you accidentally find out, it makes you very sad and when she finds out she is next to comfort and prove Show you how much she loves you, not see you as a replacement by feeling guilty about you. 🤭
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i think you guys are obsessed with hurting me
angst with arlecchino
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arlecchino x fem!reader
warnings: angst (hurt + comfort), suggestive at the end
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it was a mistake to look in her journal. you should've known better than to pry into her personal thoughts. that journal was for secrets, and as she always said, things she kept secret from you were better that way.
the only way she even knew you read it was the singular teardrop left on the corner of the page. it irreversibly smudged the ink, leaving a permanent addition to her writing that spoke louder than any of the words on the page.
"let me explain." she answered you, finally managing to corner you as you lay in your shared bed, tears in your eyes.
"explain what? that i'm just... some replacement for someone you lost?" it's obvious you're hurting, and so is she. while she wishes you would've never set foot in her office, she also knows her own internal thoughts are the problem.
she approaches the bed, gently kneeling down at the side, wrinkling her neatly pressed pants. "please listen." and you can hear the desperation in her normally cold tone. "i never meant for you to see that journal."
"but i did."
"what you read was something i've kept bottled up. you are not clervie's replacement, you are my wife." she tells you firmly, reaching over to hold your hand. "i saw good in her, good that i knew i couldn't possess myself. i am cursed, after all. it's the same good that i saw in you." she pauses, looking up at you. "i see things that remind me of her in you, not the other way around."
"what difference does it make? you'll always compare me to a girl you keep alive in your memories alone." you sniffle, wiping your eyes.
"i won't deny that clervie will never leave my memories. she was the only friend i've ever had until i met you." she rubs her thumb across the back of your hand. "i fell in love with you not because of clervie, and it takes me time to see the resemblance. it is no surprise i would seek out someone so... kind-hearted."
you stay quiet and she pulls your chin to look at her. "i have no intention of lying to you like this. i can say that i love you over and over until my lips bleed, but that won't change a thing in your mind, will it?"
"no. i suppose not." you frown and she cups your cheek.
"then let me prove it to you. i hope you know those words were written in a... particularly troubling time for me. they brought me comfort... to see that i have you. to think she would be happy for us."
she slides into bed with you, bringing you closer to her chest and wiping your tears. "you're not a replacement. you're my wife. you are the most important person in my life at all times." her lips press into your forehead as you snuggle into her.
"prove it." you mumble, half-teasingly, but you yelp when she rolls you over, looming over you instead. "arle-"
"peruere. that's my name, and i am aware you know, so say it."
"peruere." you breathe out softly and she sighs, looking troubled.
"i haven't heard that name in ages. it brings me... discomfort, but coming from you, it's almost like it means something loving again." she hums, leaning down to kiss your throat. "let me show you how much you mean to me." she offers.
you smile up at her, nodding as she kisses away your tears and slowly descends your body, taking gentle care of you for the night.
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Text
the girl next door 6
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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You can’t remember the last time you had the house to yourself. Even if your mother’s just next door, it feels a little lighter around there. And you’re happy for her. Maybe having Steve around will be good. He can be an outlet so she doesn’t have to put all her frustrations on you. 
She was happy when she left, even excited. That’s another rarity in your life. 
You start your day off with a tea. The apple cinnamon bags are a bit old so you use two. You bring the cup into your room and get your table set up with your pencils and sketchbook. You open the window to let in the sunlight, the natural light much brighter than the yellowed bulb above. 
You know your mom would tell you to do something more useful than just scribble in your sketchbook. You got the dishes done last night. Steve offered to help but you deflected as you foresaw your mom’s disapproval. You can’t let company pick up your slack. 
You try to wipe away the anxiety of last night. It’s over now. You shouldn’t have worry very much about it again. 
You finish your tea. It’s cold by the time you get to the dregs. You sit back to look over your sketch. Your eyes feel a bit fuzzy from hyperfocusing on that one stamen. You rub your brow and yawn. The sun shifts and you look over at the old alarm clock on your nightstand. It’s close to noon. 
Something else catches your eye. You look up at the window across from yours. The curtain ripples around the gap before it’s pulled open from inside. Steve stands on the other side of the pane. Can he see you? 
You can’t tell as he turns away without acknowledgement. The glare of the sun should hide your room well enough. You never really thought of it as your blinds are closed more often than not. 
You get up to rinse out your cup. You stretch your legs as you pace in the kitchen. You’re restless. You’re so used to your mom and her demands and expectations, that having your own time feels aimless. 
You could surprise your mother with dinner. Have it in the oven when she comes home. It’s still early but you can make something more than boxed macaroni. It will be a good cushion to fall back on when you remind her about tomorrow’s appointment. 
🏠
When your mother returns, you can see the fatigue around her eyes. For as little as she goes out, you’re not surprised. What strikes you, is how happy she is. You help her to her recliner and she sighs as she leans back. 
“Such a nice man,” she keeps repeating.  
You smile and let her regale you with a recounting of her day. Still, you can’t help but wait for the pendulum to swing back to normal. She leans her head in her hand, her eyes distant. 
“I swear, the universe sent him to me,” she says, “it had to. It was how much I need someone.” She drops her hand and traces her finger around the armrest, “sick, got a lazy daughter, stuck in this damn house...” 
There it is. You frown. You mash your hands together and waver. 
“I made dinner,” you offer. 
“I don’t want KD,” she snips. 
“I made... I made shepherd’s pie,” you offer meekly, “should be almost done.” 
“Hm, wondered what that stench was.” 
You frown. “I can put it in the fridge for tomorrow. Be good to have something we can just heat up after the doctor’s.” 
“Doctor?” She grumbles, “eh... I forgot.” 
She slumps and her eyes dull. You can’t help the pang in your chest. Sometimes you wish it was you who was sick. It feels like you deserve it more than her. 
“Hopefully it’s good. If you can get the surgery--” 
“Surgery!? Surgery. You keep going on about the damn thing,” she barks. “They can’t fix me, girl, get that through your head.” 
“I know, mom, but they can help--” 
“Like you help me? Crittering around here like a rat!” She hits the armrest violently, “would ya leave me be?” She closes her eyes and turns her face away, deflating once more, “ruined a good day...” 
You sniffle and slowly turn on your heel. You should have known better. You should have just left her alone. As much as she rants about you staying in your room, she prefers you there. Out of sight, out of mind. 
🏠
The next day, your mother doesn’t say much. Her silence is just a bitter as her words. You don’t push it. She gets in the car without argument and you set off into town. Even if she says it’s a waste of time, she listens intently to the doctor and answers all his questions. It’s only when she has to go through the tests that she shows her agitation. 
After some hours spent at the specialist clinic, you’re free to go. Your mom is just as quiet. You feel her mood roiling in the air. Her hand is shaking to the point that she’s hissing at it. 
You steer down to the corner and linger at the stop sign. 
“Mom,” you squeak, “you want some orange julius? A treat for the way home?” 
“Don’t talk to me like a damn child,” she snarls. “Let’s just go. I’m tired. Got no blood left in me.” 
You nod and bite your tongue. Maybe you can just put her to bed. Her naps are a respite, though you find yourself anxious in the silence, terrified of waking her prematurely.  
As you pull onto the suburban avenue, you slow and approach your drive. You pull in and shut off the engine. You get out and go around to help your mom. You open her door and she hauls herself out, tisking under her breath. 
“Didn’t see him,” she mutters. 
“Good afternoon,” Steve’s voice answers your question before you can ask. You look over the hood as he waves from his porch, “busy day?” 
Your mother steels herself and forces a smile, “just went to the doctors.” 
“Oh, everything okay?” He asks. 
“Sure,” she chimes, “just some tests. Nothing serious.” 
“Good to hear,” he stands behind the porch railing, arches crossed, “day’s not over yet. Still lots of time to enjoy the sun.” 
“Mhmm,” you mom grabs onto your wrist, shaking you as leans into you. “Nice day out.” 
“I was gonna do up a milkshake, if you ladies wanted to join me I got plenty to go around.” 
“Milkshakes?” Your mother considers, “mm, I’d have to change out of these.” She looks down, “smell like a hospital.” 
“Sure, take your time,” Steve says, “how about you, honey? I got strawberry. You seem like a strawberry type.” 
“Eh, she’s more a vanilla type,” your other cackles. “Plain.” 
“Got that too,” Steve ignores the joke. “I understand if you’re tired out though. Don’t wanna be too desperate over here, just wouldn’t mind the company.” 
“I’ll be over soon,” your mom assures him, “she’s got some laundry to do.” 
She keeps hold of you and points you towards the house. You help her inside, even though she does her best to hid how she clings to you. Her steps are uneven and stunted. You get through the front door and help her sit on the chair you keep by the door, just in case. 
“Goddamnit,” she’s shaking pretty bad. “Help me, you dumb girl.” 
“I... I don’t...” 
“Get my goddamn inhaler. I forgot it this morning.” 
“Oh, uh, okay.” 
You hurry down the hall and to bathroom. It isn’t in the cabinet. You go back out and scan the table. Not their either. You find it next to her recliner. You wish she’d keep it one place. You go back to her and hand it over. 
“I’m gonna go over,” she says before she huffs from the canister, “you’re gonna stay here. Out of my way.” 
“Alright,” you agree. You prefer that anyway. 
She takes a minute before she gets up. She shooes you away and you retreat to your bedroom. You sit on your bed and wring your hands, waiting as you listen to her. She doesn’t say goodbye before she leaves. Only the front door slamming lets you know she’s gone. 
You exhale and pull the fold out table up to the edge of the bed. You open your sketchbook and stare at the pencil. You don’t feel like drawing but you have nothing else to do. You just sit, looking at the amaryllis. You can pick out every flaw in your work. You close the cover and frown. 
A knock startles you and you stand up. Oh gosh, it’s probably Marge. What is it now? Is the siding too stained? Are the steps crooked? You get up and shuffles down the hall. You open the front door, hiding behind it as you poke your head around. 
Steve has the screen door propped open against his elbow. He holds a tall glass filled with pink, “here. Figured I’d bring this over.” 
“Oh, uh, thanks,” you accept the condensating glass, a wide straw poking out of the whipped cream topped drink. 
“Maybe next time you can pop over too,” he suggests, “I’ve been working on getting the pool going...” he grins, “it’ll be a good summer for it.” 
You nod and look down at the milkshake. 
“Really nice of you,” you say. 
“It’s nothing, sweetie,” he puts his hand on the door above him, looking down at you, “enjoy.” 
“Uh,” you look at him then at the straw. You don’t want to be rude. You put your lips around the tip and take a sip. “Mm, yup, good. Thank you.” 
His blue eyes stick to you and he drags his hand down the door, “I’ll make a deal. You come over to see the pool when it’s ready, and I’ll make you another. How about that, sweetie?” 
You push your lips out. It’s not nice to say no. He didn’t have to bring you the milkshake or invite you. You shrug. 
“Okay,” you agree, “erm, thanks again.” 
He nods and taps the door frame before he steps back. He gently closes the screen door and you watch him through. He turns and strides down the stairs. You shiver as the cold glass numbs your fingers. Hopefully, he forgets about the pool thing. You don't even have a suit.
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