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#(she's the one who came out as straight and would treat me like a man) which i didn't like and i didn't like playing up being fem either
dykeinthedark · 2 months
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venting in tags about gender n shit (long as hell) (u can comment and talk 2 me as always :3)
#okay so i got a really masc haircut about a month ago and i know it's just a haircut but holy shit has it changed EVERYTHING for me#like.... i've always leaned masc except 1) before i came out 2) when i was actively in love with someone who i knew liked femmes#and they always described me as a fem. because that's what i showed her. because i wanted to be with her.#but lowkey whenever i'm in a not-impressing-anyone raw-dogging-life-no-crush era i always resort to a very masc style#like masc being my default and i'd only lean fem to impress people whether it's for love or peer pressure in a specific setting#like ''dressing up'' has always been a form of drag to me. like something i HAD to do to fit in or impress my parents (scott favor core)#but ever since this haircut i've realized... i could just BE masc innately like i really don't have to be womanly if i don't want to#which i usually don't. again i have only ever dressed fem for other people. but it's not even being masc that attracts me on its own#it's like. being masc in a distinctly lesbian way. as in whenever i look in the mirror i don't wanna be like a Guy i wanna be a dyke.#like lesbian as a gender identity too sort of thing honestly. okay i've been waffling but basically i sort of want to call myself butch#but i don't know if i like... can?? if i'm allowed to???#everyone always says it's MORE than just wearing boy clothes and not wearing makeup and having short hair (which i already do all those)#i mean i've always id'd as genderqueer because it literally just means gender weird and i experience gender in a queer way#what's probably the most telling is that my friends (all queer) CALL me a butch lesbian#like every time they do i feel really internally validated. it's not just my clothes but my personality too ig is what people tell me#i have a higher pitched voice relatively speaking but apparently the way i talk is quote ''very clockably into women''#which?? gender euphoria asf. my best friend specifically he (gay trans guy) always uses butch to describe me very intuitively#people have also noticed that i ''transitioned'' in all aspects except hormonally. like ppl have commented and noticed my masculinzation#but at the same time i always feel rly haunted by my ex relationships because one wanted me to be more masc#(she's the one who came out as straight and would treat me like a man) which i didn't like and i didn't like playing up being fem either#bc now it feels like she (butch) won't believe me if i called myself butch too bc she remembers me being femme#idk i feel like there's her voice in my head all the time that sees everything i do through her eyes (i'm lowkey still in love)#i feel like even though this comes so naturally to me i must be putting on a performance#even though i've actually read stone butch blues and done research into the history and i truly love and id with the culture like i rly do#that im still just a sad imitation of a butch lesbian and can never really be a part of it because i used to enjoy dressing up sometimes#like it's so stupid but can i still be butch if i wore a dress to prom and i think i looked good in it??#even though i was envious of my friends who wore suits?? that i used to try goth makeup?? that i liked long dresses??#that i enjoyed stacked necklaces and rings on every finger???#and tbh ALL OF THAT CAME FROM A CONCIOUS EFFORT TO FEMINIZE MYSELF IN JUNIOR YEAR OF HIGHSCHOOL WHEN I WAS 16#because omfg it was 2 months before junior prom and i was worried that i was too masc and wanted to get comfortable with being fem
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kisses4reid · 11 days
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criminally hot | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
summary - you get wrongfully accused by a sheriff, and it isn’t you who’s angriest. it’s your boyfriend who has to expose your relationship in order to clear you.
genre - spencer x bau!fem!reader, fluff, slight angst if u squint, angry reid x calm reader
wc - 1.2k
warnings - reader uses she/her pronouns, handcuffs, violence, a weird white man i know id be fucking scared as well, oh swearing as well.
a/n - i love u you’re so awkward i am doing so well bc of ur request, keep requesting things your brain is crazy. ummm anyways this is my first time writing this kinda thing omg how exciting okay start reading it wtf you still doing here?
request - ( from @babyoureahauntedhouse ) omg hii!!! :3 this is my first time requesting, so please excuse the awkwardness 😭😭😭😭 first of all, how are you????? i hope you’re doing amazing!!! absolutely no pressure, but can you do one where reader gets falsely arrested (not a huge thing, maybe in a police station at a small town or something) and spencer absolutely **loses** his shit at how she’s being treated????? like, she’s freezing and the sheriff or somethjng keeps pushing her and then he just bursts into the interrogation room and uncuffs her and it’s just very fluffy???? thank you!
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Emily handed you your coffee with a smile, receiving a small thank you in return. It was warm in your hands and created a comforting contrast to the cool chill of the police precinct you were set up in.
Things were going well given that you’d only been in the small town for half a day. The team debriefed on the plane, but Aaron had been on the phone with the leading detective for at least an hour now asking him where he was.
Emily headed off to the restrooms when a slender hand made its way to your waist. You turned and felt your cheeks heat, knowing exactly who is was.
“Hi Spencer.”
“Hi Y/n.” His eyes held sweetness in the chocolate swirls, and you felt like a kid who had been given candy. Spencer and you had been dating for a few months, but somehow in a team of profilers you both kept things under wraps, even with Spencer’s clumsy touches and your lingering stares. “I wish we were home,” he whispered.
You glanced around for anyone who could witness your interaction and get suspicious, but you were mostly alone other than Hotch and some officers who were weirdly taking a lot of attention to you.
“Yeah me too. I’m feeling oddly popular and not in the good way.”
Before you could talk more or offer him a sip of your coffee (even if you know he doesn’t like it), Aaron calls his name and the slim tall boy scurries away with a straight face.
You turn to find something to do. To reread a case, to help someone fill out papers, to talk to Morgan or Garcia. You would’ve opted to huddling in your cardigan if a tall man didn’t interrupt.
“Y/n L/n?” He asked in monotone. His arms were at his sides, one hovering above a pair of cuffs that hung from his police belt. Furrowing your eyebrows you answered,
“Yes? What’s wrong?”
“You’re under arrest for the robberies of…”
His voice pounded into the background of your head, thoughts attacking your eyes through a sudden headache as the words registered before you could help it. The room was silent except for the man’s voice, yet all you could hear was the furrow of eyebrows and quick approach of your boss, Aaron Hotchner.
“What’s going on here?”
“Your agent has been seen…”
You stood still as another officer came behind you and forced handcuffs onto your arms, gripping your wrists with unnecessary force that would surely leave bruises. You winced and looked between your boss and the officer, and then at Spencer, who was being pulled back by Morgan. He yelled your name in worry, witnessing the hardened grips on your body and rough pushing you were being subject to. Your coffee splattered on the ground, staining your white shoes.
There was only mumbles and white noise, as your eyes met with Spencer’s. The large officer behind you kicked your leg to get you moving, the shock glueing your shoes to the rubbery floor. And you almost didn’t even notice the hand on the back of your neck pushing you towards a dark room with a desk and two chairs.
You were so familiar with these rooms and yet it felt so different.
Of course, you didn’t actually do anything. And of course you attempt to clear that up to the officers who are slamming their hands on the table and screaming as much as they could, in a poor attempt to intimidate you.
Aaron was in the corner with a scolding face and hard hand to his chin, observing the situation with an intensity you barely ever see.
“Last month, you were seen at one of the houses that got robbed over night. You left a few days later, after also being seen at two of the other houses-“
“So she was seen at three of the ten houses robbed and you arrest her?” Aaron spoke up, bringing the men’s attention to your boss instead of you. You took the opportunity to look outside of the window.
Though it wasn’t clear, you could make out the outline of a tall boy you wished would just break into the room and save you.
And he did.
“Your evidence is illogical and childish. She’s an FBI agent for gods sake-“
“Anybody can be a suspect Agent Hotchner, even federal agents.” The tall one replied with a stubborn mumbled.
Suddenly, the door was slammed open and you were met with a disheveled Spencer panting with a red and severe face. He didn’t even bother looking at you before he starting schooling the men in blue, who at that point were glaring at him and attempting to look more intimidating than they actually were.
“I’ve read your files on this case and nothing links to Y/n L/n, not one-“
“There’s no way you read our-“
“I can read more in a minute than you can in a day, dickhead. Y/n was meeting old school friends when she was in town, we went to the Diner Inn afterwards and we met with her parents who have receipts for the meals because they’re-“ he turned his glance at you,” “sorry Y/n- they’re hoarders. You have nothing against her other than some positively reported visits and some photos of her hugging the house owners.” Spencer had slowly pinned the officers to the opposite wall unconsciously. It was hot. “I was there, I’m her receipt. And like her parents, she loves keeping those. So if you want to insist she’s your culprit, go for it. But your going against a man with eidetic memory and a lot of evidence.”
And while he was logical and correct, he was also a little too truthful.
The officers blinked in fear. Spencer definitely didn’t seem the type to yell or swear, so this clear, concise and undermining approach to the situation was somehow even scarier.
“Spencer,” you began, “thank you.”
He looked at you, his expression softening into empathy and care, “Of course.” His hands found a key in his back pocket as he approached you, starting to promptly uncuff you.
As Aaron continued to speak with the officers of their major mistake, Spencer took you outside of the room and into a private office. Your heart was racing, but it seemed Spencer was more stressed than you. He paced as you leaned onto the front of a wooden desk, hands over your chest as your eyes trailed Spencer.
“I’m sorry, Y/n. I should’ve reacted faster, then you wouldn’t have been..” He stopped closely in front of you, his breath hot on yours as his gaze scoured over your body for injuries or bruises. “Are you okay?”
You smile calmly, “I’m fine. My leg hurts, and I think my wrists will be bruised, but I’m fine.”
He took your hands and rubbed his thumbs on your wrists carefully, causing butterflies to explode in your stomach.
“Thank you Spencer.” Your eyes dance with each others. “You were really hot. Maybe I need to get arrested more often.” You joke with a lift to your voice and a smirk, causing him to look down with a smile and shake his head.
“If being angry makes me hot maybe you should reevaluate what you-“
Your lips found his, you hand going to his bicep and his going to the back of your neck, before a clearing of the throat took you both out of your trances. It was Hotch.
“I’ve got some paperwork you both need to sign. About the arrest and,” his hand waved between you two, “this.”
Morgan stood behind Aaron with a smirk, leaving quickly to go tell Garcia that she had lost their bet.
taglist: @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es
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deadghosy · 3 months
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Mommy long legs reader or slender man reader x Hazbin hotel 🌚🌝
AHHHH I LOVE YOU MY GHOST ANONNNN! SLENDERMAN?? YOU FINNA BRING OUT MY CREEPYPASTA PHASEE🦆✨💗‼️‼️‼️
HAZBIN HOTEL X SLENDERMAN! READER
prompt: a faceless creature of the height of 10’5 (or 7’9 idk I got two different heights from safari lol) came to hell to serve one final purpose…get a damn job.
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Two words, scary tall…
So say your height was 10’5…
SHIT GON GET WICKEEDDDD!!!
Okay so I can see Charlie being scared staring at you as you just sit like a nice gentleman as your body doesn’t fit the whole seat… (y’know what, let’s go with 7’9…) you told Charlie you use to be a leader before you somehow came to this wrenched place
Charlie felt bad and gave you a job here so yon can stay. But she was confused when you said “somehow”’ as if you didn’t die as a Human…WAIT A MINUTE..DID YOU JUST TALK WITHOUT A MOU-
Lucifer looked up at you and was like….“What in the fucking nine circles…” and you two became friends because of how Lucifer put accessories on you like a Christmas tree
Y’know how people make slenderman wear reading glasses sometimes? That’s you. 😭 with your blind ass LMAOO (I also wear glasses dw…) But I can see you wear the glasses and residents be so confused because…you don’t have eyes for Christ out loud-
“Fuck you wearin' glasses for?” Husk said to you once as he caught you even reading a book…now he was more confused. “I’m reading…” “…..okay..” husk was so done with this buffoonery as you had no mouth and eyes. But yet you could still read, see, and fuckin talk? Yeah he must be drunk as hell itself…
You treat niffty just like how fanon slenderman treats Sally. That’s how I headcannon it.
I headcannon you to be the fanon version of slenderman rather the cannon version. Cause you being the fanon version is just sweet considering the chaos that can happen in the hotel and how you treat niffty.
I can see people thinking you are a new overlord as you had a stern aura around yourself as you had a proper straight walk as you held a high chin not showing any weaknesses.
“Woah….did you see that sinner get lit in flames…” “yeah I did.” It got so quiet so quick as angel gave you a confused face as you just stood there. 😭 Angel couldn’t tell if you were being fr or being a smartass
You were just sleeping on the couch, dead ass like a passed out beer dad after watching football. And fat nuggets sat in your lap sleeping. Then angel came and slept by you, then husk, then niffty, AND THEN EVERYONE JOINED 😭 big ass family cuddle💗💗🦆
You deadass could be the bodyguard of the hotel as you could escort a sinner who is trying to be an ass to the staff and you’re just like, “YEET!” And boom they are thrown away
You and Alastor definitely bond the most as you two got black tentacles. It’s just for Alastor it’s based on his powers when he uses his magic. But for you, it’s just your appearance as you use them to pierce your enemies. But mostly you use them when you are too bored to pick up objects with your hands
BIGGG headcannon that when slenderman do that static thingy, for you it clouds their vision and hearing as you make them pass out. Either to death or just to knock them out.
Lol I can imagine the whole creepypasta mansion going crazy while you drink tea like “this is fine” as you are in some other universe- 😭 crossover type shit
Like Drowned Ben is spam texting your phone like, “slender. slender. Help. Slendy. Octopus. Father. Help help.. help JeFF STABBED ME!”
And your tall ass is just sleeping as everything is going soooo peaceful in the hotel.
While we are at that, EJ definitely was using a book to try and to summon you with sally behind him hugging her teddy to see you again. Meanwhile Jeff was chasing Ben as he goes through a tv to hide from Jeff.
I imagine people in the hotel would hug you except for Alastor as he hates touch. But the people would dead ass hug you as one of your tentacles hold them.
You picked up angel, niffty , Charlie and Vaggie with your four tentacles as you read a book. It was a funny but cute sight as Charlie was like “:p” while the others had a cartoony ass expression or a blank one which is definitely Vaggie and husk
Adam and Lute definitely glanced at each other confused at what the fuck you were as you didn’t have a demonic or angelic aura. But you had some type of power in you. It was weird asf as you just stood there like “🧍🏾am I ugly?” They just kept staring at you
I can see you having the same expression as the picture above when you met pentious as you and Alastor was having tea just chilling with the hellish weather.
“Do you know that guy?” “I have no idea who that pest is my dear friend.” Alastor says with his usual smile as he hands you a cookie.
Just straight up tea times with Alastor is so peaceful as Alastor was kinda suspicious when you didn’t say anything if he ate a cannibalism meal. But I mean…slenderman! Reader is use to people being a cannibal.
The vees are definitely intrigued with who the hell you are and how powerful are you as you were the talk of pentagram city when you first came.
I headcannon a sinner tried to cut off your tentacles only to be grabbed by one of them and slammed to the ground. You just stood there and let static ring loudly in their head to the point it exploded.
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klausysworld · 7 months
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I don’t know why but I really want something with Klaus breaking reads heart.
Maybe…. Reader and Cami have been kidnapped and Klaus has to choose who to save. He chooses Cami but before reader can be killed Elijah saves her.
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Left for dead
Living with the originals was hard enough. Between the betrayals and the wars just within the family was overwhelming let alone outsiders going out of their way to destroy each of them.
Being with Klaus was already difficult, between his mood swings and temper tantrum’s he wasn't an easy person to love and yet I did.
Even when I realised he was in love with someone else, even whilst knowing he was kissing someone else, I didn't leave him. I loved him with everything in me whether it was killing me or not.
I had offered my life for his, I took life for his and I ruined my own life for his. With Klaus came his family and I did everything I could to welcome them as my own. Even after I found out that his sister knew that he was seeing someone else.
Hope was treated the way I would treat my own daughter and I loved more than anyone else to walk the planet. Maybe that was why I stayed, for Hope. Or maybe that’s what I tell myself because how could I have been pathetic enough to stay for a an who only saw me as a warm body.
For some reason I had it in my head that perhaps he loved both me and Camille. Maybe he thought I wouldn't accept it and so he kept it a secret but surely after everything he should know that I would never try to change him or invalidate his feelings. It was stupid to be okay with him seeing Cami behind my back, I was blinded by something I had created in my mind.
I would smile when Cami was near and I tried to talk to Klaus but he labelled me paranoid and brushed it off. So I thought maybe he regretted it and he didn't want me to know because he wanted to stop. Maybe he did still love me.
This was the ultimate test really.
Both myself and Camille were beaten until black, blue and bloody. A loop of our cries and screams echoed through my mind and bounced against the walls of whatever dungeon we were seemingly chained within. I had no way of knowing how long we had been there but my body and soul felt such a sense of relief when Klaus's voice rang through the building. That feeling only lasted a few seconds before our captures taunting replayed in my head:
"Klaus will choose between you both, he will decide who lives or dies. He may think that he can have it all, have you both but I won't let him well. Whichever one he chooses, the guilt from the other will eat away at him, he won't be able to stay with the other. You will all end up broken and alone." he had whispered cruelly.
Her heart pounded in her throat as she watched Klaus approach them both, his hands coated in red as he forced the bars that separated us apart and went to step through only to let out a gasp and drop to his knees. The with who had tortured us for however long appeared from thin air in front of Klaus and I automatically pulled my legs to my chest to hide in the corner.
"Only one of them leaves" he stated, a grin on his face. "I don't care which but you will choose one or they both die and the next to go missing will be your daughter"
At his words Klaus let out a vicious snarl and attempted to lurch forward at the man but a sharp pain forced its way to his head and caused a loud yell of pain to burst from within him.
I could feel my eyes burning with another flow of tears just watching his pain, knowing what he felt. I could see Cami staring straight at me. Over our time in here together she had often brought up Klaus's ultimatum, I told her that I knew that they loved each other. I told her that he would choose her. She was certain that I was wrong and that Klaus didn't love her but just used her as a release. But I knew what Klaus looked like when he was in love. Even so part of me hoped she was right, it was a dark thought, a horrible hope that I wish I didn't have but I really wanted it to be true.
I looked back to Camille, a tight lipped smile that was probably more of a grimace formed on my lips as I mouthed the words 'it'll be okay' to her and her head shook as tears slipped down her cheeks.
Cami was sweet, she was lovely and I loathed it. She wanted to die instead of me, she said I deserved to live more than she did. That I was Hope's second mother I was apart of the Mikaelsons. She apologised for ever being with Klaus and it just made me feel worse. I thought that maybe they were lies, maybe she secretly hoped that Klaus would choose her and I would be left to die.
I couldn't tell and it didn't really matter anymore. Not when I realised that Klaus was right in front of me. I felt a small spark of hope as his arms wrapped around me and he pulled my close to his chest. A soft sniffle left him and his lips pressed to the side and top of my head
"I'm so sorry" his voice whispered with a crack and I went to tell him it was okay before I felt him pulling away and I realised what he was apologising for "forgive me" he uttered as he made his way to Cami.
My eyes stayed blurry with tears but they didn't fall as a complete feeling of numbness spread throughout me completely. I could hear my captures sickening laugh spin around me and I could hear Camille asking Klaus what he was doing.
"Klaus- go back to her" she whispered but he shook his head
"I love you" he admitted and a bitter laugh left my lips. I covered my mouth with my hands and pressed my forehead against my knees. I shouldn’t have been surprised and I shouldn’t have been so upset. I knew he loved her, I knew he would choose but for some reason it hurt so much more when he actually confirmed it.
I could hear Camille apologising to me as Klaus lifted her up, carrying her to a safety I thought I would never again know.
As soon as they left hands were on me, grabbing and dragging me by my hair to force me to crawl wherever he wanted me. Uncontrollable pain shot through me continuously and I had no time to comprehend the sobs that shook my body. I felt my back arch painfully, almost breaking but not quite, my head was forced back so my neck was bared and a sharp knife went to the edge of my neck.
"it's unfortunate really..." the voice uttered before the blade began to sink into my throat. My eyes closed and I welcomed the quick death but the pressure stopped and a thud sounded from before me.
Fingers pressed to the place the knife had began to cut, a familiar scent engulfed me and an arm circled my waist.
"You're alright darling" the voice whispered, pulling me into an embrace making me grab onto the back of his suit silently. "He's gone now Y/n. You're safe." he murmured softly, rubbing my back before i felt him pull back a little bit. My eyes slowly cracked open to see his face, his deep dark eyes boring into mine with a knowing look of pity. Silently I watched as an array of reds and purples scattered under his chocolate brown eyes and his pearly fangs dipped into the tough skin of his wrist. The fresh wound was lifted to my lips and I accepted the metallic taste with a sigh. I drank for much longer than I needed, I expected he would pull be off but his hand only pet the back of my head gently
"Good girl" he whispered "just heal". His touch made my heart hurt and I didn't bother trying to stop the tears from falling anymore. My hands clutched onto his jacket desperately and I gulped his blood down as though it was water.
Soft touches were given to the skin of my face before his silk handkerchief cleaned at the dirt and dried blood that had dripped down my neck. Reluctantly I pulled away from his wrist and licked my lips clean. He wiped his own wrist and tucked the material away into his pocket. Elijah proceeded to pull the jacket off of his body and instead wrapped it around my shoulders. The inside was warm and smelt of home.
My eyes felt heavy with exhaustion and I gave him a tired smile making him frown.
"I'll bring you home now okay?" he whispered but I shook my head
"I can't go back" I muttered "I won't stay with him anymore. I should have left ages ago" I admitted and his eyes grew glossier.
"Where should I take you?" He asked gently and I shrugged
"Airport? Train station? I don't care just don't tell anyone you saved me? Please?" I begged softly and he nodded.
"I'll give you whatever you need" he promised "anything"
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Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part
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Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.
Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.
He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.
It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.
He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.
"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.
"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."
"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.
"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.
Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."
Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."
"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."
A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"
"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."
Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."
"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."
"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."
Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"
"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.
Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."
Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.
"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."
"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"
The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."
"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."
The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."
Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."
"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."
"He thinks his own parents are bad?"
Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."
"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."
Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."
"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."
There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.
Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.
"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.
Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."
"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.
"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.
Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.
Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.
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True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.
"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.
"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.
"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."
Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."
"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."
"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.
"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."
"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"
"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."
Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."
Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.
"You've every right to be."
Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"
"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."
"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"
Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.
"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.
To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.
Now he's got two apologies to make.
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I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88
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xxblairexxss · 10 months
Text
Who are you?
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader
Theme : Fluff, I think?
Word count : 2.4k
Requested!
Part 2 Part 3
You got into an accident on your way to work with a guy who drove Ferrari Pista 488 with the number 16. Weird thing was that everyone kept calling his name as if he was a celebrity.
Just a light one. Haven’t proofread!
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"The audacity of him! And then what did you say?"
Your mom thought your decision to accept an internship in Monaco out of all countries was solely because you could talk to your best friend, Linda, without having a problem with the time difference. It just happened to be on your side, though. Instead of listening to her story about her stupid ex before you went to bed, you had to get ready, so she had become your favourite podcast to listen to on your way to work.
"I said nothing." She winced, even before you screamed.
"What?! You let him disrespected you like that! Oh my God! Why?! I would have punched —“ The sound of a car horn kicked through your AirPods, taking over the voice of your friend. There wasn’t enough time for you to react when the black car came approaching so fast, cringing along the sound of a car honk that seemed to be echoing within the small town that you would have thought it would send you straight to heaven. It turned out your mind wasn’t ready for today to be your last day on earth, so you tried to run across the road and fell flat against the friction.
You were expecting to wake up surrounded by clouds, just like how the cartoons pictured the afterlife, until you felt a touch on your shoulder. "Fuck! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Are you—"
"I would have punched you in the face." You muttered, what was supposed to be something directed towards Linda’s ex boyfriend.
"Woah, okay. I’m really sorry. Here," He offered a hand and pulled you up; that was when the pain hit your nerves, making you bend over and wince. 
"Ow! What is wrong with you?!" The man was pushed away and staggered at the outburst. "It was a red light. Are you blind?"
"Okay, I’m really sorry; that was totally my fault. Let me take you to the hospital."
You retracted your arm from his hand relentlessly, limping your way to the roadside. "Leave me alone."
"You are bleeding!" He argued and tried to offer his hand for you to hold as he was you struggled to walk.
"I know! I have eyes."
"You need to treat those cuts. Just let me take you to the hospital."
You tried to hobble away from the man, but the pain had set a limit to your pace. "I don’t even know you. Go away."
"Okay, my name is—" 
"Charles! Everything good?" He looked up, surprised to hear his name being called out so sudden, and gave a thumbs up back to the waiter of the restaurant.
"You heard him. I’m Charles. You have a witness there," You looked back at the direction he pointed with his chin. “if I do something bad to you. Can you get in my car so I can take you to the hospital now? I’m kinda in a rush."
"If you are rushing, then you can just go. Don’t let me hold you up." Charles shut his eyes, tilting his head back. He knew he had misspoken because you were going to say yes before he mentioned about time. "Okay, okay! I’m not. I’m not in a rush at all. So, please, get in the car."
"Are you sure? Cause I can just —“
"No. I mean, yes. I’m very sure." He extended his hand, which you finally held while you limped your way to the car.
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This was your second tissue, which you had been pressing on your cuts. You just found out your chin was bleeding as well when you saw the reflection on his window.
"Do you need water?" He twisted open the mineral water bottle and offered it to you. You were so quiet, it made him feel restless. He would rather hear you curse him out than this eerily silent. "The hospital is 5 minutes away. Does it hurt a lot?"
"It’s not that serious. Don’t worry." You turned from looking out the window, eyes scanning through the buildings of the city, towards him, frowning in suspicion. "How did he know you? The waiter."
"He has seen me a lot. It’s a small town, after all. Are you a student?" He saw you were carrying a bag of laptop with a few files, which he had placed at the back of the car, so you were obviously not a tourist. It left him with two answers. Either you were a student or you just moved here, because if you had been living here for a while, you wouldn’t ask the question. He wasn’t saying everyone would know him, but they would at least aware of who he was.
"No, I’m doing my internship."
"How long has it been?" He queried.
"2 weeks, I think." You looked out the window as he drove into the hospital area. "You can just drop me here. I’ll be fine."
"No, it’s okay. You need help from a local, so that would be me. Can you walk?" His seatbelt retracted as he clicked on the unhook button and helped you register your name and details at the registration counter while you were asked to just sit and wait.
"Hi, Charles!"
"Oh my God! It’s Charles!"
"Are you Charles Leclerc? What are you doing here?"
It felt like you must have had a permanent wrinkles in between your brows, as you had been frowning for minutes whenever people called out his name. Sure, it was a small town, but did that mean everyone knew everyone to this point?
"Are they your friends?" He leaned in, moving his ear closer to hear your question.
"No, they are not my friends. They have seen me a lot too." The way he replied was so nonchalant, but it still didn’t make any sense to you.
"That doesn’t really make any sense." You commented, still frowning.
"It makes sense in Monaco." He looked away and bit his lips, trying to hold his chuckle.
The medical staff explained to you every cream and medicine you needed to take and when it was needed, while Charles joined in as well, listening as if it had anything to do with him.
"Can we get your phone number so we can call for a follow-up treatment on your sprained wrist?"
"Oh, my Monaco phone number? Give me a second." You just happened to find out that your phone was badly damaged in the accident right when you tried to turn it on. It probably had to do with you trying to stop your fall without realising it was in your hand, so the screen was cracked and it was just a black screen. You were forgetful and had written your new phone number in your notes so you wouldn’t get charged for accepting calls from a foreign country, but it was impossible to check your notes if your phone couldn’t even turn on.
"Use mine. If anything, just call me." Charles stepped in and wrote down his phone number, leaving you stunned. "And here’s my card. I’ll pay for everything."
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"Thank you for sending me home. Oh, my phone!" He had helped you bring your stuff all the way to your apartment, though you had assured him that you could carry your own things. Just when you were about to take the last thing of yours in his possession, he moved his hand away before you could take it. "I need my phone back?"
"It doesn’t even work."
"Okay? But that doesn’t mean I’m going to throw it away." Charles brought the phone higher when you tried to snatch it, smiling like an idiot when he saw you were glaring at him.
"I’ll get it fixed and give it back to you."
"I don’t need your help anymore. Give it back! I’ll get it fixed myself." You disagreed, refusing to owe him even more, but he stepped back and slipped the phone into his back pocket.
"You still need me for your follow-up treatment. You used my phone number, remember? I’ll see you in a few days once it’s fixed. Don’t forget to put the cream and your medicine." He walked away after giving you a nod out of curtesy.
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"Was he hot?"
Though your phone was broken, you still wouldn’t miss a daily update from your best friends. After explaining everything, including every single detail of what happened earlier, Linda’s main focus was to ask that. Not your sprained wrist, not your cuts—nothing about you, but all about the man you had told her about.
You rolled your eyes and continued to spread the cream on the cut on your leg, still engaging in the conversation from the video call on your Macbook. "He was cute. You know, apparently everyone here knows everyone. Crazy, isn’t it? Everyone kept on calling his name ‘Charles! Charles!’ as if he were some kind of celebrity, but it was actually very common. I was shook because—"
"Wait, what did you say?" She intervened.
"I said I was shook."
"No, before that. What was his name?" Linda asked, seemingly typing something on her laptop.
"Charles? Charles Lec something?"
"Oh my God! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" She shrieked, making you jump and scream along.
"What the heck?" You bawled as she started talking nonsense. "Slow down! What are you trying to say?"
"Is this the guy that helped you?" She brought the phone and switched to the back camera so you could see the picture on her laptop.
"Yeah? Why is his face everywhere in the Google images?" That was weird. Though you were treated like a celebrity in Monaco, why would you put out your pictures on the Internet in public, with not just one but more than what seemed to be normal for someone who just lived in Monaco?
"He’s a fucking F1 driver, you idiot! Oh my God, you are so dumb, Y/N!" Linda called out, feeling frustrated for her friend, who had to be the smartest in class but not street-smart.
"What?! But he told me that everyone knew him because they just saw him a lot." You argued back and tried to make it make sense to your friend, who seemed to be so disappointed.
"Yeah? Because he’s driving for Ferrari and he’s a Monegasque? Obviously, everyone has seen him a lot. You are so dumb."
"2 weeks in this new country, and I have already humiliated myself. I’m just going to ask him to leave my phone in front of the door so I don’t have to see him again, right?" You don’t think you could look at him in the eye anymore because you were so embarrassed that you might need 2 to 3 months to move on.
"I don’t know. To me, it sounds like he wanted to get to know you."
"Cut the crap, Linda."
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"I can’t just leave your phone out here." Charles came and rang your doorbell a few days later. You had been yelling behind the door, trying to make him go so you wouldn’t have to see him again, but he just wouldn’t let it pass.
"Just leave it there!" You replied back the other side of the wood door.
"Are you hurt?" He replied back, knocking on your door this time.
"No!"
"Okay, then why can’t you come out?" Charles could have just done what you asked him to do, but he wanted to see how your cuts were doing, if they were still bleeding.
And he also wanted to see you because he just felt so.
"Fine, I’m leaving it here. Make sure to not leave it outside for too long. Someone might steal it away." He remarked before walking away, knowing you had been peeking from the peep hole.
"Finally!" The door pulled open after you waited for two minutes, giving him enough time to take the elevator and left.
Until you saw him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He had this smirk on his face, as if he expected you to be dumb enough and fell in his trick, which you actually did.
"Finally what?" He strode closer, arms still crossed, as he looked down on your legs to see the cut had started to heal. "Hm?" Charles carefully tilted your face up to see your chin and nodded when it wasn’t as red and bleeding as it was a few days ago. "Did I do something wrong? Why can’t you just come out?"
You grinned and walked back into your apartment, pushing the door shut with your body. "Okay, you can go home now. I’ll call the hospital to ask them to change the phone number back to mine. Thank you!”
"Wait! Why are you acting so weird?" He blocked the door and tilted his head, trying to catch your eyes because you had been looking everywhere but at him.
"Why didn’t you tell me who you are? Here I thought everyone in Monaco would call out people’s names as if they were celebrities, and you actually turned out to be one?" Your tone went higher while you pointed your hand at him, as if he were an artefact in a museum and you were a museum guide.
"I’m not exactly a celebrity. Just an athlete. How did you know?" He asked in a very light way, like this whole situation was fun for him.
"My friend showed me your picture, and I still didn’t trust her, so I went on Google myself and typed…" You pressed your lips, squeezing your eyes shut, because you knew you were just going to humiliate yourself even more if he found out about this.
"And typed in what?" Charles repeated your last sentence.
"Charles Monaco." Your hand covered your eyes instantly while he burst out laughing. He would have left with a bruised nose if only you could slam the door in his face right now, but you wouldn’t want to be charge with assaulting the famous guy in this town. "Yeah, whatever. Can you step back because I’m trying to close the door?"
"So, that’s it?" I nearly hit you with my car, sent you to the hospital, fixed your phone, and that’s it?"
You furrowed your brows. "What else do you want?"
"How about I give you a tour around the town? I’ve lived here all my life. No one knows every corner of this town except me." He rested his hand on the door when he saw you try to close it again. "Are you sure you want to miss this one chance to be with Charles Monaco?"
"You are so annoying!"
“Your next appointment is in two days. I’ll pick you up at 10 a.m." He walked away, still wearing the cocky smile that made you want to punch him so bad.
"I can go on my own. I’m not going to open the door for you next time!" You stood outside the hallway, shouting back as he went even further.
"Then I’m gonna barge into your apartment. I’m Charles Monaco; I can do whatever I want."
✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl @boiohboii @formula1mount @judespoision @alwaysclassyeagle @scenesofobx @mrsmaybank13
If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!
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heavenlybey · 10 months
Text
a/n hi y’all this is my first time writing so pls keep that in mind.. also if you have some tips or feedback i would appreciate it!!
Remind you
⚠️Smut
Connie was getting sick of your nasty attitude. you’ve been ignoring his texts and calls for a while now and it was getting on his nerves. But posting that quote that said: “if he ain’t treat you right, his opp might” followed with a picture of you cuddled up with another dude? And not just any dude..Jean??? “She’s got me fucked up” connie mumbled to himself while putting his shoes on. He was done with your attitude and he was going to fix things tonight!
You on the other hand, didn’t have a care in the world. You had just gotten out of your relaxing bath, ready to end the night with a glass of wine and watching your fav show. That was until you heard three hard knocks on your door. “who the hell?” you thought to yourself as you went to go open the door and were met with a very angry Connie. As soon as you saw him you rolled your eyes and tried to close the door. Not wanting to deal with his shit and just go finish the rest of your wine. But Connie was faster and put this foot between the door, he fully opened the door and let himself inside. “Get the fuck out of my house, Connie” you angrily said to him. “Jean huh?” “Get out of my house!” Connie found it amusing how YOU were the one that’s angry while he should’ve been the one who was angry.
“no, we’re gonna talk about this. You’ve been ignoring me for weeks and now you’re posting pics with another man, you think imma let this shit slide ma?”
“You never make time for me anymore and, i can’t do this shit anymore. I’m don-“
Oh you got him fucked up. His lips coming down to yours in a hungry kiss. Tongue swiping across your parted lips. Pressing his erection against you. A moan wanting to escape from the feeling of his growing erection against yours. Trying to push him away, he kept a firm grip around your neck. “i’m serious, i’m done witcho bitchass” you said which resulted into you being thrown onto your bed. Connie dragging you back, ripping your black silky robe off. You’re fully naked laying before him, sending a hard slap on your ass, a gasp fell from your lips.
“I don’t care what you say, we’re not done mama”
He flips you onto your back without any type of warning, forcing your knees up against your shoulders. You are completely spread out for him, running his eyes over your wet pussy. When he looks back up to you, you know because of the look on his face, your shit is about the be fucked up.
Connie is mad as hell, he doesn’t bother with any sweet touches. Going straight between your legs to suck on your clit. You let out a gasp saying “ohh god!” His tongue meeting your entrance to thrust inside of you. He leans up to make eye contact with you while he spit right on your pussy. You both watch the spit slowly rolling downwards, towards your entrance. His long tongue came down to glide from your entrance to your clit then sucking on your bud. “F-Fuck-“ is all you could say, feeling him chuckle while he was sucking up your arousal. Filling his mouth full of your wetness. “You think Jean can make you feel this good mami?” You were already feeling the tight knot in your stomach, you knew your orgasm was only a few licks away and so did Connie. Your lips fell open once again to moan, but before you could get anything out, he shoved his fingers in your mouth.
“Suck. Get them nice and wet for me, ma.” You took his deep into your throat, sucking and swirling like you would his dick. The pleased look on his face pissed you off. You decided, without much thinking about the consequences to open your big mouth and say something stupid.
“This is how i sucked off Jean yesterday.” You said with a smug look. The smug look on your face was wiped away immediately when Connie flips you onto your stomach, your face hitting the bed first before he spreads your legs wide open with his hands at your ankles. “Talking about another dude while i’m in between your legs, are you crazy or sum??” Your back arched deep, just the way you knew he liked it. His big hand gripping yours to keep you from running. A deep moan leaves both of you as he brutally enters your pussy. His dick settling inside you while he splits you apart and makes room for himself without giving you a chance to adjust. It’s hard to breathe with his dick so deep inside you, the only thing you can do is whine and moan. His thrust deepened as you were trying your best to push him away. The tapping of your hands on his pelvic area making him look down to where you both connected. “What? You can’t handle it ma? Where is that big mouth of yours now huh?
“Please Connie..it’s too much..i-i can’t.” you cried out. Connie scoffed. “i really don’t fucking care ma. Take this fucking dick. Imma remind you who you’re talking to. Gonna make sure never you forget again.” he said while grabbing the back of your neck to pushing your face into the mattress while he is fucking you. You were a moaning mess. Connie was giving you the deepest strokes, constantly hitting your g-spot without any stopping. You felt the tight knot in you stomach starting to form again as your pussy started to get tighter around Connie’s dick. “Don’t even think about cumming. You gon hold that shit mami.”
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coeurify · 11 months
Note
I have no idea how this would fit into an storyline but I am a hoe for fake dating. Imagine fake dating with abby and it slowly becoming too real
UGH YOU GET ME FAKE DATING IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES!!
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⋆˚✿˖° now, abby anderson had a problem. specifically a blonde, brown eyed loud mouthed man of a problem. owen fucking moore. she had broken up with him in the summer time, little explanation given to the ass of a boyfriend other than that she needed to “find herself.” (not that she needed to give any.)
⋆˚✿˖° but owen? oh owen didn’t accept that. so from the very moment abby had broken it off, to when the air began to smell like fall.. he pestered abby. asked for a reason, begged for another chance (despite HIM going around with damn near every girl on the WLF compound.)
⋆˚✿˖° things came to a head at a get together in one of abby and owen’s mutual friend’s apartment style quarters. mutual friend who also happened to be your roommate.
⋆˚✿˖° abby and owen fought all night, abby’s cheeks red from embarrassment and anger, eyebrows furrowed together. “why can’t you just take no for an answer owen?“ the cup in her hand crackled a bit under the pressure when the man scoffed. “because you never give me a real answer!” abby’s arms crossed at that, searching around the room. quickly, and maybe a little impulsively, she shrugged. “i’m into someone else now.”
⋆˚✿˖° owen just couldn’t accept that, his arms thrown around dramatically. “so you like another guy? that’s why you wont give me another chance? you know i can treat you better.” that sentence alone reminded abby just why she hated being with him so much, but again that fast moving brain of hers spoke before the thought could finish, finger pointing in the direction of the first person she found.. you. “it’s not a guy. it’s a girl. im not.. into your..” abby made a motion, “species anymore.” sure, it was sort of true. abby recently realized she probably had a thing for girls, but you particularly? she couldn’t count on her fingers the amount of conversations she had with. “i like her.”
⋆˚✿˖° you, who’s head poked up, mouth full of slightly stale chips, having heard the whole conversation. abby anderson, beautiful, funny, madeyouweakintheknees, abby anderson was into you? and not straight? surely not. you swallowed harshly, deciding to play into whatever game abby seemed to have set on the floor. you made your way over, an award winning smile on your face as owen’s mouth dropped open further than a damn infected. “You like her? as in girls?”
⋆˚✿˖° honestly, you probably caused more trouble when you stood near the two, “abs!” you grinned, “you forgot your jacket here.. cmere ill grab it for you.” and then your hand is wrapped around her tensed bicep, the stiffness likely caused by her pure shock you even played along. still, she used it as an out from the devil with blonde locks, shrugging almost apologetically at owen before letting you whisk her away.
⋆˚✿˖° and that night, after everyone but you and abby had stumbled out of the cramped room, which was still humid and heavy, you made the plan. with a pen that had little ink left, scratching against the water damaged pages of the notebook you tucked under your pillow, you wrote the words “project get rid of owen moore.” which ok, in retrospect sounded really bad. but you were a little tipsy.
⋆˚✿˖° the plan was easy. play the role of abby’s first girlfriend, convince owen she was totally not into him or men anymore. what did you get out of it? a spot on the top dog abby anderson’s patrol team. something you had been vying for this year. abby agreed, although a little hesitantly. she promised she had picked you only because its who her pointed finger found first. not any actual attraction. you swallowed down the hit to your ego that brought.
⋆˚✿˖° and honestly? the plan went on pretty steadily. you were a damn good fake girlfriend if you had to admit it, and abby didn’t hate being around you. in fact, she really enjoyed being around you. she enjoyed how easily your fingers reached down, tapping on her palm to fing a way to hold her hand whenever one of owen’s posey was around. she enjoyed how you leaned in whenever owen passed by, your lips on her ear, whispering anything you knew would have her smiling. a fake smile of course.
⋆˚✿˖° you two had some pretty strict rules. no kissing, no extreme touchiness, absolutely no spilling to anyone this was fake, and the most important.. no real feelings. you had come up with a backstory, one you two had studied together. (you two met in the training room after your roommate introduced you two and totally hit it off. abby got you a spot on her team next to her and manny, and feeling bloomed from there.) abby added in a few details she knew would piss owen off.. and you sealed your lips shut to follow the rules.
⋆˚✿˖° the first few weeks were easy. you liked spending time around abby. you enjoyed how she smiled, you laughed at all the jokes she cracked (for the fake dating points of course..), and you loved training with her. you had to ignore the shiver her hands on your shoulders or waist gave, knowing it was just to help your position. “you have to fix your stance if you plan on fighting scars..” abby huffed.
⋆˚✿˖° the problem started in october. a month and a half into your fake dating plan. tens of lunches spent alone together, a handful of new hair styles you begged to try on abby, and around 5 missions out of the base, in. there was a party, one you demanded the two of you go to one day as you lounged on abby’s bunk— watching as she cleaned up manny’s mess across the room. “if we dress up together, owen will totally finally get off your case,” you assured, bringing a loud sigh from the blonde. “oh my god.. fine.”
⋆˚✿˖° you went as a angel and devil, simple enough to easy stitch together some devil horns for yourself and an angel halo you found in an old broken down store in the city for abby. no way did you admit the trouble you went for to find it to abs, especially not as she easily pulled her shirt off in front of you, totally clueing you in to where the nickname came from as she shoved on the white teeshirt.
⋆˚✿˖° see, the no kissing rule was an important one, but vodka made everything seem less important, and owen was awfully loud that night, scoffing any time you smiled and leaned into your angel, head band tilting off your head, which abby fixed with a grin. “you two act more like friends than people fucking each other,” owen scoffed as he pressed by you two, the words pounding in abby’s ears over the loud mingling voices.
⋆˚✿˖° “kiss me,” abby called over the old cd that played on the speakers, her cheeks red with anger— blue eyes flicking around. “what?” you laughed, thinking back to rule number 1. “i know we said no— no kissing but i just.. oh my god just kiss me,” abby muttered, her large hands gripping your cheeks and pulling you in for a kiss, one she was sure owen was watching on to. one you melted into, sucking her lip in between yours.
⋆˚✿˖° that had been a breaking point, ragged breaths and heated necks as you pulled away. it lead to more excuses with less validity being used when the two of you stared at each other’s lips. stepping down the stairs of the base, eyes catching on someone who just looked like owen. “kiss me,” abby muttered quickly, and you wasted no time to turn your head and fill your nose with the scent of pine as you leaned in.
⋆˚✿˖° the no kissing rule crossed off right before the no touchiness one did, that one had been scribbled off completely when abby began pulling you into her lap in group functions, one soft hand rubbing up against your side as she whispered in your ear, “jus’ for show.”
⋆˚✿˖° just for show of course, but you screamed into your pillow for so long that night you almost thought the walls of your room would crumble down along with the barrier you put between you and the blonde.
⋆˚✿˖° kisses and touchiness turned to nights spent in abby’s room, mornings waking up and having abby’s shirt thrown at your face. “wear that, owen got it for me when we were dating.” sure, you probably should be ashamed to be wearing the clothes of a girl who didn’t like you, but the frown on owen’s face made it worth it.
⋆˚✿˖° that last rule, the one that didn’t have pen strokes over the letters, the one locked behind awkward coughs and side glances, well you weren’t sure who broke it first. you dont know why feelings came into play, but you sure do know it happened.
⋆˚✿˖° you felt it first when abby didn’t talk to you for a few days. you saw her across the stadium with nora, her head tilted back lightly in a laugh at something the other girl said. that was the first time you felt the needle sized ache in your heart, one that only ripped further when owen shoulder checked you on his way by, “better get your girl. she slips away easily.”
⋆˚✿˖° maybe that rule had been broken when abby stormed into your room, met with the sight of you on the couch with some other blonde girl, an old tape of a southern movie mid way through when anderson scoffed and demanded the girl get out. she did so in a hurry, scrambling for her sweatshirt as a frown grew on your lips. “abby what the fuck?” you scoff, watching her eyebrows unfurrow lightly. “you can’t have other girls over! it fucks with our plan,” she accused, though she stumbled lightly over the words. “she’s just a friend, abby.”
⋆˚✿˖° however, the night you sat in your bed, breath heavy and eyes stinging as you broke through the paper with the pen, scratching over the words “no real feelings,” that came in the end of november.
⋆˚✿˖° your head was pressed into abby’s shoulder, yawning and closing your eyes as the movie played on a big sheet, a biweekly occurrence in the WLF base. abby had pressed to your cheek, placing a kiss to it that had some sort of butterfly attack take fruition in your stomach. you two didn’t even know if owen or his friends were around, and they for sure were not the reason of abby’s hand linking into yours as you two walked toward her room later that night. you both seemed to realize that when you reached her door and she leaned forward just lightly, as if to kiss you.
⋆˚✿˖° she cleared her throat, licking over the lips you wanted to capture again. “i think-” she said suddenly, squeezing her eyes closed. “i think owen really believes it now.” you could feel your heart sinking to the empty stomach that laid below your chest, knowing what came next. “i think we should break up.” abby finished, quick to add, “fake break up.”
⋆˚✿˖° you nodded along silently to the story she built still standing in her doorway. miscommunication, arguments, differing plans, the whole shebang— anything to make the breakup believable. you agreed, but the moment her door shut, a half smile and thank you sitting on her lips as the door locked, you felt the tears prick your eyes.
⋆˚✿˖° you wiped quickly at the tears, your hand slapped over the aching chest you swore betrayed you. you sucked in shallow breaths, shaky hands finding your own door as your vision went blurry.
⋆˚✿˖° as your pen broke through the white sheet of paper, you cursed your own heart. you cursed it for being so easy to rip from your chest, presented on a platter for a blonde who only saw it as a fake replica. you threw the notebook across the floor, hand slapping over your mouth so your roommate wouldn’t wake as you sobbed into it. surely you had been the only one to break that rule, but that didn’t matter now.
⋆˚✿˖° but you were wrong. not that you could know that. a five minute walk away, abby breathed out slowly as her fingers scraped though the braid she was undoing, an odd stinging pricked at the corner of her lashes. she knew she did the right thing. she knew it as soon as her lips searched for your own at her doorway tonight. so why did it feel so bad? why did her hands tremble as she pulled out her blanket and climbed under it, squeezing her eyes shut.
⋆˚✿˖° if this was all fake, why did the break up feel so real?
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bellewintersroe · 4 months
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I just read the fernando headcannons and OMGGGG. The nsfw ones babe 😭😭 can you maybe write a NSFW nando fanfic??? Well maybe he's all riled up or something. Honestly Idc just a NSFW nando fanfic after reading the headcannons..😫
so glad you enjoyed, I loveeee writing for Nando, especially when it’s spice 😏 not sure if this is what you have in mind but I hope it does justice to the headcanons…
Fernando Alonso x Reader - Smut! Fernando gets wound up after a race gone wrong. Lucky for him you’re waiting for him nearby in the hotel room where he takes his frustration out in a more… intimate manner. tw- smutty smut legit just porn- the story goes straight to the point so yeah 18+ - talks of penetration, dirty talk, spanking, oral- everything. So sorry this is only short 🫶🏼.
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“Fuck, Nando!” She sobbed, cheek pressed to the mattress, Nando’s hand pressed on her head, pinning her down as his fingers gritted together, tightening in her hair. She was on the verge of tears, sobbing and writhing in pleasure as her fiancé worked hard on top of her, back arched with her ass in the air for him. Fernando fucked into her mercilessly, he’d found a rather healthier way to let out his frustration, in a way both of them enjoyed. It worked a treat, as soon as she saw him all red faced and tense she knew exactly what to give him. Now, he’d taken charge, knelt on the bed, hips thrusting into hers like a piston as his teeth gritted, eyes scrunched shut. Nando was trembling, Y/n could feel that, his pants had soon turned into grunts and growls with each push of his rock hard cock into her tight whole.
“Muy bien. todo mimo.” (So fucking good, all mine). He struggled between squeezing his eyes shut from the blinding pleasure and watching her, the way her ass bounced on his cock, the beautiful expressions she’d make. Nando let out a louder groan, throwing his head back as he threw his whole body into each thrust, the bed beginning to squeak and thud against the wall with every movement.
It was so hot- too hot, she could feel each time the tip of his cock would hit deep inside her, one hand moved to rub at her clit and she cursed with such intensity feeling Nando work harder inside her tightening pussy. “Harder, Nando- m’ gonna fucking cum.” She wept with a moan that could wake up the whole hotel. Nando’s growled again, yanking her hips harsher into him, spurred on with the desperate moans and pleads which escaped her mouth. She’d never had anything or anybody so good, Nando was so riled up and so focused on the blinding pleasure he lost all control. She found it so fucking sexy, and when the intensity peaked in her stomach, she came undone with a yell only muffled by the bedsheets. Fernando panted, quickly, pulling her hair back so he could hear vividly every single noise she made.
Her legs trembled with each wave of her orgasm, she was moaning incoherently, head pulled back by the man behind her who hissed at the gush of her pussy against his cock. “Tan bueno. Buena niña.” (So good. Good girl). Nando praised in his native tongue, feeling his desperation only build further at the feeling of her pussy tightening around his thick cock. He could feel each throb of her pussy, each tremor, each time she whined. He was so deep inside her, sighing in ecstasy at the sound of her wetness around him. Nando let go of her hair, soothing over her scalp as she collapsed to the bed with a huff. “You made me cum so fucking hard for you, Nando.” She muttered, voice again muffled by the bedsheets as she shook her ass. Nando wasn’t done yet, he flipped her over, already feeling the calmness spread through him to see her giggle. His face was flushed and he was sweating, hair slightly sticking to his damp forehead. “Are you ok?” The Spaniard checked. “Yeah.” She’d smile in reassurance, fingers coming to dance down his spine, over his tattoo. He wasted no time kissing her again, guiding his cock inside her once again. “M’ so wet for you, god.” She cooed, irresistibly sexy as Nando’s eyes were locked on her face. He thrusted slower, hands gentle this time, as were his kisses. “Are you gonna cum for me now, Nando?” She hushed as he shuddered, pulling her legs further apart gently.
“Yes.” He hushed with a shaky sigh. “Fuck me like you did before, I fucking loved it.”
“Chica sucia.” (Dirty girl). Nando muttered. “Please, I love it.” She pressed a kiss to his jawline and it was enough for Nando to begin thrusting into her harder than he previously was. The slide of his huge cock inside her wasn’t fathomable, Nando was not surprisingly fucking amazing at this, and when his hand slapped her cheek before pinning against her neck again, they both let out a deep groan, knowing he was nearing his high. “Harder, Nando, fuck! Cum inside me. Fuck, make me all yours, Nando!” As the intensity picked up, so did the noise levels. Nando could no longer choke back the moans as he did before, he was straight up moaning and wasn’t ashamed about it. He fucked Y/n deeper, harder, faster into the mattress fists clenched as his whole body began to shake again, tense and almost bursting for release. “Please.” He hushed to nobody in particular, growling as he gripped at the bed sheets harder. “Yes, yes, yes, cum for me!” Oh fuck. Nando couldn’t control it any longer, he lost all control and felt himself beginning to cum deep inside her. His orgasm was so good he collapsed on top of her, letting out a groan with each rope of cum he shot deep inside her. “Oh my god, oh- fuck, Nando.” She hushed, fingers grazing down his neck as he shuddered again, rocking his hips ever so gently to milk the last of her pleasure. Only when he came back to earth did he notice the slight redness forming around her neck, Nando sighed, lips immediately pressing to the area. “I’m sorry, was that too much?” “No, not at all. I loved it… are you ok now?” She smiled, kissing his temple lovingly. “So much better.”
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lazyneonrabbitt · 4 months
Text
Girlfriend
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Daryl Dixon x Reader | Some smut at the end
Daryl is in a sucky relationship but doesn't see it at first. Reader helps him see and later shows him how a good partnership works.
💘 💘 💘
With another invite turned down, you had set out on your own. Not that you enjoyed hunting without Daryl, but he seemed to be preoccupied with his girlfriend.
Again.
It was annoyingly quiet out there, nothing that indicated any animal being near..
Only ..rustling plants. Low, no wind in the trees. You followed the sound, staying low and undetected like Daryl taught you until-
Plap. Plap. Plap. "Hahh please~" Plap. Plap. "Quiet." Followed by a grunt and more skin on skin noise.
You recognized that barked command, having heard it a million times before during Daryl's hunting lessons. Was he really out here fucking his gross girlfriend? That preppy lady wouldn't even know how to function out here let alone be comfortable on the forest floor. Why the hell would he fuck that annoying bitch out here but not you during all those times spent together on your own?
But that's how it was these days. Your dear friend always being followed by that hag of a woman and you being sidelined.
On days it could get so bad you ended up in tears, begging Carol to explain why he was being so weird all of a sudden. She knew you cared deeply for him and didn't like Daryl's lady either and when you returned from your cut short hunting trip you told her about your findings. And of course about Daryl's clearly visible annoyance surrounding the act. You ended up being able to laugh about it all, laying back in a fit of giggles just as Daryl came back home and upon seeing him crying out laughter even harder.
"Ahw pookie, did a walker snag you?" She spoke through the snickering, pointing at her neck and back at him which had him look in the mirror and spot a dark red spot on his neck, immediately turning a deep shade of red in the face as he mumbled a response you couldn't make out.
As he stomped up the stairs, grumbling about a shower you gave each other a look and went back to laughing.
"Man, it's sad. Really." Your words brought some seriousness back into the conversation, seeing your friend was still being tortured on a daily basis but never seeming to be doing anything about it.
You all saw it. He was unhappy. But the majority of the community didn't see that. They didn't know him and only saw their happy friend with her quiet, grumbly boyfriend. The man you wanted to be your quiet, grumbly boyfriend.
Even Rick had tried to get his brother alone for even a short moment to make it clear she was bad for him but no matter where he found the archer, the woman was there too.
Everybody knew when Daryl was working in the garage you left him be, emergencies were fine, and leaving him some lunch with minimal interaction was appreciated but those were his moments to unwind. He needed those and you respected it. He'd make sure to let at least someone know so the word spread amongst his friends who all knew he'd come say hi when he was good to socialize again.
But these last weeks someone apparently didn't feel like those rules applied to her. The garage door was opened, allowing a view of Daryl sitting cross-legged on an old blanket and tinkering on his bike. And then behind him on the toolbox, the top cleared off for her to sit on and her legs resting on the bike's front wheel was the missus. You ever so slowly walked past, having Dog spot you and come up for some attention that he never got from the other one which you found more than sad.
You crouched down and lovingly cuddled up with the canine and ruffled his fur, smiling into his neck and listening in on the endless chattering that came from the woman currently disturbing Daryl's much needed alone time.
'Alright fuck this' you thought to yourself before standing up straight and calling out to her. "I heard you bake some amazing apple treats. Wanna show me how to make them?" Daryl gave you the most shocked look ever, but the feet touching the ground behind him made him smile ever so slightly. The one thing she was almost more fond of than Daryl was her baking. Clearly Carol must have told her.
But nothing beat the relief he felt when the two women walked off and Dog came to rest at his side again. He was gonna have to thank you for that later.
Back in the kitchen you suffered through the endless yapping beside you, barely telling you steps for baking and more bragging about her adventurous time in the woods. As you tried to follow her progress you tried your best to twist her words into your favor, and send away any snarky remarks on what you saw in reality.
All you had to do was survive this ordeal and think about Daryl having some time to clear his head.
And clearing his head he did. He felt refreshed after being left alone with his dog and bike for so long. He missed the quiet, started to hate the sound of his lady's voice almost.
But he couldn't tell her that. It was something he'd have to live with, something to get used to about relationships. Just like she had to live with him having Dog and dragging mud into the house.
That was all normal stuff, right? He had no clue so rolling with it until that warm, happy feeling Glenn and Maggie shared showed up. It was only a matter of time, it was gonna happen soon.
Except it didn't, and Daryl got worse so now it was Rick's turn.
He ran out to where Daryl was following around his woman like a lost puppy through the pantry, grabbing him by the shoulders in fake panic and dragging him along, something with trouble, and Carol, and hurry.
So he followed him into his house, where he stopped in the middle of the room and stared at you and Carol on the couch, and Rick behind him.
"Feeling those butterflies yet?" There was clear mockery in her tone, referring to their argument from a while ago about his lady. About how Carol felt he wasn't happy, and he called it none of her business and going on about how everyone had annoyances from time to time and they'd be fine soon. "Ya can't tell me ev'ryones got them butterflies all'a the time."
"Daryl, she doesn't even look at you." Well, she looked, but not in the way it mattered. Stared, gawked and drooled. He was nothing but a piece in her picture of a fake perfect life. And now was the time for truth. "I saw you with her in the woods." Eyes wide he stared at you, discomfort clear on his face. "You hated it, it was clear on your face, you barely even finished before you were up and away from her."
"Whuh-- why'd ya stay?" He stumbled over every word, his mind blank as he heard your reply. "Needed to know if you loved her for real. To move on, get you out of my mind."
He tried to place your words somewhere they made sense, but he got stuck again like he always did.
"Sideline that for a moment. We're talking about the other issue right now." Rick's order helped to get the conversation back on track, looking his dearest friend in the eyes before he spoke the harsh truth.
"Daryl, I know you don't want to hear this from us, but we're worried and you have to understand.." He needed a breath in preparation. "You're never going to be happy with her."
The front door had opened and closed during his sentence, a clearly angry girlfriend rounding the corner. One who had heard his words.
"What the hell are you saying? That's a lie and you know it!" She was face to face with Rick now, giving Daryl a stern look to help defend her. "Who do you think you are to make that assumption! Of course he's happy, he'd tell me if he wasn't!" She went from screaming to pointing aggressively as well. First at Carol. "She's probably just jealous that he likes my baked goods more!"
And then you. "And she.. She's just jealous of what me and Daryl have! You need to mind your own business, all of you!!" She huffed in annoyance.
"Wow." You spoke in the short moment of silence. "Can't believe you can fuck someone with a voice like that. Instant turn off for me."
Now there were four pairs of wide eyes staring at you. Two trying their hardest not to laugh, one in utter shock and one red-faced and ready to throw hands. Not that she'd win against someone who had trained to fight with a cop and a hunter.
She took one step towards you, hands balled into tight fists and brows furrowed in anger when a hand stopped her. "Touch 'er and yer walker bait."
Daryl had stopped her from approaching you. She'd ways obey her loving boyfriend, he loved her for that. "Daryl, honey she-" "Quiet!" He barked the order loud enough to startle everyone in the room, tears slowly forming in the offended woman's eyes. "Why would you let her say that?" She still continued. "You love my voice, my stories when we cuddle.." God, imagine loving your voice that goddamn much. "You said so when we visite--" "I said QUIET. Ya never fuckin' listen do ya?" The initial shock brought the tears to spill. Pressing her lips in a thin line as she sniffled.
You took the opportunity to speak up. "The only reason I asked you about those bland, boring pastries of yours was to give him-" You pointed at Daryl who kept his position in the middle of the group." "-some goddamn peace and quiet. You know, the only thing he actually wants when he's working in the garage." You scoffed at her ignorance. "Funny how everyone here knows, except for his Girlfriend. who loves him 'so, so much'." She went from angry glaring at you to staring at her boyfriend with her best sad eyes. "D.. Daryl? She's lying.. right? Y.. You love me."
No. No he didn't. He realized that now, he only thought he did when she showed him kindness and interest.
He opened his mouth to respond but no word came out. None that went through his head would end this conversation without conflict.
"She's.. I uh." He looked around as if words would appear is he searched hard enough but he quickly realized there was only one clear answer to be given.
The truth.
"Nah, I don'. M'sorry." He had turned back to face her but still hadn't found the courage to look her in the eye, the guilt eating him alive. He didn't want to hurt her. Hurt anyone, but in the process he was hurting himself.
"Liar." Her voice cracked, spirit broken and defeated. "Don't lie to me you love me!"
In her yelling she took a step forward, face now inches away from Daryl's.
"Nah." He repeated again. It stung but she needed to hear him and there it was again, right in front of him but not registering his words. She never truly saw him, heard him, loved him like his found family loved him.
"I don' love ya." Only now did he lift his gaze to meet hers, seeing the tears, the sadness and the anger.
"M'sorry."
She just stared, shaking her head, words lost for once as she cried.
The whole room felt heavy with emotion. It was never the plan to have this talk turn into what it was quickly becoming.
"A- are you.." her words barely came out between sniffs and hiccups. "Leaving me..? Y- you can't.."
"Look," Daryl had to dig deep for the right words, and begged they would work. "I never wanted ta hurtya, s'just.. We jus' ain't a match." He had kept his gaze on her, hoping his eyes would speak what his mouth couldn't. "This.. Us. It ain't workin' fer me." A sigh left him at her silence. He stepped past her, finding the large chair in the corner of the room and sitting down, needing a serious break with how his head was close to overflowing.
A loud sniff left her as she mumbled an okay and left. No further words, just an okay and out she went. Rick made a mental note then to send someone to check on her later. He suggested Daryl to go rest downstairs and take some time off jobs to clear his mind before wishing you and Carol a good day and heading off as well.
"Well, come on." You got a pat on the shoulder from Carol, who lead you off the couch. "You go take Dog for a nice long walk around the community while I go make some comfort food, alright?"
With a nod you retreated downstairs to find Dog napping on Daryl's bed, having to wake him to come with you to get some much needed fresh air for you, and some exercise for Dog.
The community was quiet around dinnertime, having everyone inside with their family, friends and housemates. It was perfect for thinking, commenting on stuff to Dog who padded alongside of you. You should have brought a ball to play with.
Back home Carol was busying herself in the kitchen, all her focus on cooking this meal to keep her from talking to Daryl. He needed the quiet so his head could do some serious sorting out.
You returned to Carol finishing up dinner and watched as Dog quickly made his way over to Daryl and rest his head in his lap.
You joined Carol in the kitchen and helped with plating the food and rinsing pans before leaving for the living room, handing Daryl a plate and eating in silence.
It was clear you weren't talking today and each went on with their lives.
It took a week for Daryl to be back in his usual routine, not avoiding people who could ask questions but just doing his jobs and runs like he normally would.
So now it was time for that talk.
Surprisingly he was the one that came yo you over dinner, having Carol as a buffer to fill in when he'd fall silent made it a bit easier to initiate the conversation.
Of course he had talked to Carol before alone, not knowing how to respond to your words in the first place he wanted some knowledge up front.
"Ya like me, in a boyfriend-girlfriend way?" Daryl's sudden words had you almost choke on your food, giving yourself a moment to breathe before nodding. "Yeah I do." It was no use denying it after what you said last time. And it probably took.him a lot to even start this conversation.
"Can ya tell me how tha' would work." He played around with the food on his plate, needing to keep his hands somehow busy. "If I said yes to it, I mean."
Now you gave him a sweet smile and happily told him. "I guess we'd share a bedroom, whenever you'd be ready for that. And I'd make sure to ask before I kiss you and all that."
"She'd also not kick Dog out and respect your alone time." Carol added with a fork pointed at you both, to which you agreed.
"I jus' ain't sure this is fer me, ya know. I'on wan' things ta get weird." Him admitting his fear was already an important part of any relationship, which you explained to him before adding, "we can give it a trial run, yeah? You can tap out whenever you feel like it's too much, yeah? We'll go at your pace." holding your hand out for him to take it.
Carol had snuck out while you talked and now busied herself in the kitchen to still listen and hop in when needed. She stared at your waiting hand, and Daryl's as he moved it ever so slow to rest it on top of yours. "I like ya too. Should've seen tha' earlier. An' m'sorry fer not seein' yer interest in me."
You gave his hand a little squeeze and so a relationship was started.
Very, very slowly.
Daryl now hovered around when you busied yourself in the kitchen, offered to help more just for the sake of being near you. He slowly worked up the courage to rest his hands on you as he stood around and realized quickly he loved to have his arms around you while you cooked, moving along with you across the counter.
"Daryl," His hands left you immediately, feeling like he overstepped. "Oh, no please, keep your hands on me I don't mind." You let out a laugh as you took his hands and placed them on the side of your ribs. "I just wanted to know if you enjoyed me returning the favor." You gave him a look over your shoulder and watched him as he faked deep thoughts. "I think I'd like yer hands on me, yeah."
You brought over some lunch in a basket. At Daryl's garage you whistled for Dog and gave the basket to him. He happily carried it over to Daryl, handle in his mouth and tail wagging.
Just as you wanted to walk off you were called back over. "Wanna share lunch?" His question shocked you, knowing he never liked people bothering him in the garage so being asked to stay was ..weird. But you stayed anyways and shared a peaceful lunch with Daryl.
You weren't sharing a bed yet. Taking things slow was your tactic, so you'd wait for Daryl to ask, or for him to mention it in conversation when the topic allowed it to be slipped in.
He hadn't yet so you were in bed alone, almost asleep when a knock woke you up. "Yeah?" You called out to whoever it was. The door opened to reveal Daryl in a pair of sweats and an old tee. "M'sorry fer wakin' ya. I wanna try'n sleep 'ere tonight."
His words were like a dream come true, almost literally with you so close to dozing off and scooted over to let him into the bed. The warmth that surrounded him felt good, and hearing your voice whisper a soft good night to him felt right. He returned the words and carefully took a hand to rest it on your side.
He slept through the entire night after years of waking at every creak or caw. When he woke up the first thing he saw was your sleeping form and he knew he wanted that every day. "G'morning, Dee." Your voice sounded like heaven, even in its groggy morning state. "Hmm mornin'." Hw grumbled with a smile. You loved that smile. You wanted to kiss that smile over and over again, but before you got the chance to finish that thought he had made the first move. He moved closer to you, face an inch away as he took a second to steady himself and ever so softly press his lips against yours.
The next night he only went downstairs to bring his pillow with him and moved to your room again, this time letting you settle against him as you got comfortable and again slept through the whole night.
Slowly your cabinet got rearranged to hold Daryl's clothes as well, he'd pull you against him as you both slept.
But maybe tonight he'd try something more than sleeping.
Daryl wasn't a stranger to sex these days, he just wasn't a big fan of it. Sure, it felt nice and he'd get the job done but it never felt like he thought it'd feel.
He hoped it would feel different with you.
You were already in bed when he came out of the shower, wanting to be clean if you were going to be intimate tonight. His arms snaked around yours and pulled your body against his under the covers, pressing the effects of his shower thoughts against your backside as he softly kissed the back of your neck.
"Dee?" You let out a content sigh at his eagerness all of a sudden. "Hmhm. Wanna touch ya." You responded by pressing your ass harder against his cock, grinding against him in slow but steady motions. "I'd love that, please." Words were important to Daryl, he needed his yes's and no's to make sense of these type of situations. Now that he had his yes he slowly made progress by slipping one leg out of his boxers and pulling down your underwear as well.
His cock was back against your ass as his hand snuck down your front and found his way between your folds. His rough fingers felt so good, having you let out a soft gasp as he slipped two fingers into you. You moaned along with his movements, loving the feeling of his thick digits pumping in and out of you. Your hand made its way between the two of you to touch him, moving the hem of his shirt out of the way to take him into your hand properly. Your fingers curled around his cock and pump slowly, soft rhythmic squeezes and pumps had his breathing pick up, almost whining at the touch. After a bit of more lazy touches you started to want more, positioning his length between your legs. He removed his fingers to assist positioning himself at your entrance and carefully moving his his to push into you.
You moaned at the initial stretch, having missed the feeling of being with someone so long. Your hips moved back to meet his on their own and Daryl noticed, enjoying the welcome feeling of his partner joining in the movements. His hand slid underneath your hip as the other trailed up to your chest, lingering just off your breast. With a soft giggle you took his hand and moved it to where he wanted it to be and squeezed softly. Behind you Daryl let out a delicious sound, making you turn just enough so you could watch him. One of your hands reached to scratch at his chin fluff as the other went to cup his balls between your legs, softly kneading them with every thrust of his hips.
His pace picked up and his groans deepened. "This okay for you?" Your voice came out in huffs, watching his face contort in pleasure. "Yeah. Keep touchin', s'good."
You were more than happy to oblige and keep up your gently pawing at his balls and moved your other hand to tangle in his hair, softly scratching his scalp and moving in closer for a kiss. His lips slotted perfectly against yours now after nights of figuring each other out before sleep.
Daryl was enjoying himself. And if your sounds were anything to go by, you were too. Your moans were slowly turning into whines of 'more' and 'please'. The hand that held your breast before now slid further up to your throat as he angled your head by the jaw to deepen the kiss as the hand on your hips helped to roughen his pace. Your sounds, now muffled by his lips were music to his ears and the squeeze of your walls spurred him on more than anything.
"M'close.." You almost whined against his lips, having him double his efforts to make you finish. His hand moved away from your hip in search for your clit, not daring to admit he needed guidance. Your hand moved from between his legs atop of his for a short moment to press the pad of his fingers at the right spot before going back to squeezing at him. It took only a couple more thrusts, rubs and squeezes before you both finished, your walls tightening around his length as he spilled inside of you.
He slumped onto his back, pulling out and putting his underwear back on.
"You good?" You turned to fully face him, "hmhm, yeah tha' was way more fun than I thought." He gave you a soft smile as you wormed your underwear back on too. "S'nice when the lady touches me too." You took his words as an invite and rested your hand on his hip and squeezed. His body was just so perfect for squeezing in any and all places, you loved it. "I'll always happily touch you, just lemme know when you don't like something." He gave a grunt in agreement and suggested sleep for now, continuing the talk in the morning.
So sleep you did, even better now being all tired out.
Breakfast tasted better after that, the air was fresher and the residents were less annoying.
That was of course until the one they didn't want to run into saw them holding hands on the way to the pantry.
"I hope you like sloppy seconds." One voice commented from behind you. "Yeah, sloppy for sure. Horrible lay, that guy." The women giggled among themselves, staring you down. Where Daryl tried to ignore his ex's stupid remarks, you weren't going to leave without snapping back. "Sloppy? Maybe when the chick he fucks squeals like a dying hog! Fucked me so good I could barely walk last night." You sent them a smug look, the women in the background giggling softly as she colored beet red and crossed her arms with a huff, turning away from the two of you in shame. "Ya done makin' a scene now? We gotta grab food." You proudly nodded, a wide smile on your face on your way into the pantry to pick out dinner food.
Daryl might not have shown it on the outside, but he was damn proud of his lady. And hearing you defend him like that made him live you even more.
~~☆☆☆~~
A/N: loosely inspired by the Avril Lavigne song. Because I'll forever be a little emo kid by heart.
412 notes · View notes
fizzyxcustard · 1 year
Text
Those Hands.
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Masterlist of fan fiction
Fandom: The Hobbit
Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Insecurity, comparison, angst, sexual references, mutual pining, idiots in love.
Comments/Notes: From the imagine, "Imagine that Thorin is in love with you (from the race of Men) but constantly compares his body and features with other men, thinking you find him disgusting." Requested by multiple readers and anons. (THANK YOU!)
I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.
Thorin watched every little interaction that you had with other males, whether they be Dwarves, Men or Elves. He couldn’t help but watch you blush, avert eye contact and use self-soothing gestures, such as touching your face, curling your hair with your fingers, or rubbing your upper arms. 
Since Thorin had been crowned King of Erebor, and re-building was underway, many people visited the mountain. Bard came from Esgaroth, often meeting with Thorin in council, to discuss trade deals and assistance in building. Much to Thorin’s distain, Thranduil of the Woodland Realm, also came. Again, he joined the council to converse around the subject of trade deals in precious metals and gemstones.  
Your relationship with Thorin was entirely built on trust. The two of you had been companions out on the road during the quest to re-take Erebor. He had always valued your opinion, spoke with you in private, and kept you close to him on his council of advisors. Erebor was now your home, despite you being of the race of Men. Your family were all gone, meaning that the Dwarves had now taken that place, welcoming you into the fold and treating you as one of their own. 
One morning, council was busy. Neldra, one of the kitchen staff, was on hand with jugs of cold drinks and pots of tea. Then once all the drinks were laid out neatly on intricately laced doilies, she came back with a trolley of fresh pastries. 
The smell was divine; you took an inhale and let the scent overtake you. Apple and cinnamon were among the selection: your favourite. 
You reached out to take one of the pastries, only to feel another hand graze yours. “I apologise,” a voice came, from the direction of the hand. 
It was Bard, from two seats down to your right hand side, who had stretched across to grab one of Neldra’s famous delicacies. “It was no bother,” you replied. “You first.” 
“Ladies first. I insist.” 
Thorin’s blue eyes studied the scene going on before him. No one else had noticed the exchange between you and Bard. Upon the impact of yours and Bard’s hands, Thorin felt a jolt in his chest. It rose up into his throat, and he closed his eyes for a brief second. The red hot sensation bore into him, feeling as if it were forming a hole straight through him. Upon opening his eyes, Thorin looked at his hands, then glanced across to Bard’s. The man’s hands were broad, but his fingers long and slender. Very much unlike Thorin’s. The Dwarf King’s fingers were short and bulky, with stubby ends. Surely Bard’s hands would have the dexterity and skill to caress your skin, drawing shivers from you. A Dwarf’s hands would be too calloused and thick to evoke any kind of pleasurable sensation upon a woman from the race of Men. 
Chatter continued, along with eating and drinking. In that time, Thorin tried his hardest to push the negative thoughts from his mind, and concentrate on the conversation at hand, which involved the realms of Erebor and Esgaroth exchanging skilled workers and apprentices. 
Thranduil was also present and merely rolled his eyes as the conversation got underway between Bard and Thorin. The Elven King did not like to waste his time, and being in this council meant that there were stints of time where his input was not needed. 
“Would you like another drink?” you asked Thranduil, picking up the nearest china pot of tea. 
“I would much prefer wine, but since I’m not within my realm, I would not say no.”
Thorin’s gaze darted over to Thranduil, and then to you. He saw you brush a piece of hair behind your ear, and then look up at the Elven King sat opposite you. Your ears were small, with one golden hoop earring in each lobe. Then Thorin looked at Thranduil’s ears; pointed at the tip, finely structured. They weren’t big, round and sticking out. Thorin’s ears were ugly, and thankfully he could keep them hidden under his long hair. Secretly, he had always imagined you whispering against them, your lips brushing them. It made Thorin shiver. 
Once council had concluded, Thorin left the chamber and headed back to the royal wing. Once inside and he stood in front of his full length dress mirror, staring at the protruding ears on the side of his head. Then he studied his large hands, thinking back to Bard’s. 
The males from the races of Men and Elves made you blush in a way that Thorin never had. Their bodies were more finely crafted, which complemented yours. They had finer features with smaller noses and brows. 
Thorin shifted back and sat on his bed, his hands in his lap. He took one more glance at them, feeling disgusted at what he saw. They would never be good enough for you. None of his body would ever be good enough for you. Everything about him was oversized, not delicate and handsome like Bard and Thranduil. Both of them had lost their wives, and may have wished to re-marry, so they would make better husbands for you. 
***
The following day and Thorin was sat in the council room, signing documents. His quill scratched loudly against the parchment. 
You walked in, holding a further stack of documents in your hands. “These should be the last ones,” you said, offering a smile. 
Thorin looked up at you. No blush on your face to be seen. 
“Is everything alright?” you asked. There was something in his eyes, a thoughtfulness. Maybe even a sadness. You sat down in an empty seat next to Thorin. “What’s wrong?” On impulse, you placed your hand on top of his. 
Thorin looked at your hands, watching your thumb gently caress his knuckle. How huge his hand looked against yours. But how right it felt, as if the size did not matter, and they were still able to fit together as one. 
“There is nothing wrong,” Thorin said, forcing a weak smile. “I hear that Bard is leaving this afternoon. Will you not be wishing him farewell?” 
“I barely know him,” you replied. “I’d feel it strange to do so.” 
“Would you wish to get to know him?” 
“I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
“Surely you find him handsome,” Thorin continued, pulling the new stack of documents over towards him. 
“Not really. Can’t say I do. There’s some reason to you asking this, Thorin.” 
“Why would I have any reason?” 
“There’s always a reason to anything that you ask. I know you enough by now. Talk to me. You’ve always given me more trust than I deserve, and never questioned me liked this before.” 
Thorin took a deep inhale and looked at you, dropping his quill. “Who do you find handsome? If not Bard, maybe Thranduil?” 
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Why ever would you think I’m attracted to King Thranduil?” The whole idea was so comical that you couldn’t help but keep giggling. “It takes….” You couldn’t stop the giggling. “A special….kind of woman….to…..” 
Thorin also began to chuckle, watching your face turn red in amusement and delight. His heart somehow felt lighter as he watched you, and that overwhelming love for you rose. It was a love that would allow him to do anything to make you happy. It was a love that would make him sacrifice his very life to keep you safe. It was sacrificial and unconditional. 
You could see the glow in Thorin’s eyes and the smile which curled his lips upwards. He was the one you found handsome, above all others. The intensity in his eyes made butterflies swarm in your stomach. His proud presence caused you to shiver whenever he entered a room. His voice was enough to make your imaginations travel to another place where only the two of you were, locked away in comfort, pursuing wondrous pleasure. 
You edged closer to Thorin. “You said you want to know who I find handsome?” 
Thorin’s heart was hammering now and he was sure that you would be able to hear it. 
“It’s you.” Your voice was a whisper. “It’s always been you. How could it not be you? Why would you ever think I’d be attracted to Bard and Thranduil?” 
Thorin closed his eyes in embarrassment. “My features and body are not like theirs.” 
“So why would that not make you handsome?” 
“My hands…” 
“Your hands?” you giggled. This time a blush did hit your cheeks, and it was even more vivid than it had ever been when in the company of any other man. “You have found out my secret.” 
“What secret?” Thorin asked, shifting ever so slightly closer to you. He had never wanted you any more than he did in those moments. The very thought that it was him that you found handsome was making his whole being rise, but anticipation was now racing down his spine in shivers. 
“I have had a fantasy for some time now, since meeting you, of what you could do to me with those hands,” you said, biting your lip. 
Thorin couldn’t hold back any more and moved even closer to you, his hand cupping your cheek. His breath was elevated and his eyes were sparkling with so much joy, but slight fear. 
His lips crashed against yours and you both groaned upon impact. Within seconds and the kiss had grown deep, your tongues both meeting. You couldn’t help but whimper as Thorin’s lips left yours and trailed down your neck. His beard tickled your skin and then as he grew more impatient, you could feel the tickle become a bristling, sharp sensation. Your hands became lost in his hair as he nuzzled at your neck, groaning and grunting. 
Thorin felt your fingertips brush over his ears, and it drew an overwhelming shiver from his very core. 
“I love you, Thorin,” you said again. “Now show me what you can do with those hands.” 
***
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obxologies · 1 year
Note
a request if u want tooo🥺 i really like dark rafe cameron i need one where he broke up with her because he is scared to love but she walks on weird dudes trying to as*ault her and he just goes crazy because he realises he really love her
𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨  𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯
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warnings: soft dark!rafe cameron, attempted sexual assault (not by rafe), physical violence, (soft?) angst, a little manipulation
requested?: yes
author's note: i actually had an idea similar to this so i added in a little of my own details, i hope you still like it. if you guys want more dark!character fics, i won't stop you from requesting 👀. dividers made by @cafekitsune
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Tanneyhill was overcrowded with teenagers as music blared from every speaker in the house. The back doors were wide open as people went in and out.
Sarah and y/n held hands as they pushed their way to the backyard. Sarah led them to a small area where the could talk alone.
"So, see anyone you like?" Sarah asked y/n as they observed the people around them. "I saw your man from World History inside. What about him?"
"Eh," y/n shrugged uninterested in the boy. "He's cute, but he's unimaginable stupid."
"Okay." Sarah laughed at her. "Well, we need to find you someone. We didn't throw this for not to get laid." She smirked a little making y/n roll her eyes.
Someone cleared their throat behind them. They both turned to see Rafe with Topper and Kelce. y/n rolled her eyes and turned back around while Sarah groaned.
"Why are you here, Rafe?" Sarah asked. "I thought you three were having a sleepover." Rafe rolled his eyes.
"We came back here instead." Rafe shrugged. "Didn't know we'd be crashing a party." He said staring at y/n's back.
"So leave then." Sarah gave him a fake smile and turned back around.
"I think we'll stay actually." Rafe said slowly walking away with Topper and Kelce.
"God, he's annoying." Sarah huffed. "Sorry, he was supposed to be gone until tomorrow." She gave her a 'sorry' smile.
"Don't worry about it." y/n shook her head. "Just help me get to him." She nodded towards a boy who sat by the fire pit with a friend of theirs.
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Rafe leaned against the wall as he watched y/n and the boy she had just met talk on the couch. She was practically sitting on his lap as she threw back her drink. She had clearly had one too many while trying to loosen herself up. Rafe's blood started to boil as the boy's hand moved to her thigh and slowly up.
"Can you not stare at them like a creeper?" Sarah snapped at Rafe. He peeled his eyes away from the scene in front of him. "You broke up with her, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember." Rafe stated through gritted teeth.
"Then why are you stalking her?" Sarah shrugged crossing her arms.
"I'm making sure she's okay." Rafe said. "Do you even know who that guy is?"
"Our friend knows him." Sarah told him. "His name is Cooper."
"Yeah, I know." Rafe huffed. "He's Logan Foreman's younger brother."
"Am I supposed to know who that is?" Sarah furrowed her brows.
"He's an asshole who treats girls like shit." Rafe told her.
"Oh, and you've never mistreated a girl?" Sarah tilted her head at him. "Can you just admit you're jealous and leave them be?" Sarah laughed. "It's pathetic, Rafe."
"Where did they go?" Rafe stood up straight from putting all his weight against the wall.
"Jesus, Rafe! You're like a guard dog." Sarah scoffed before walking away.
Rafe ignored her comment looking around the house for y/n. He whipped his head around and caught a glimpse of y/n drunkenly stumbling down a hallway while Cooper had his hand wrapped around her wrist; dragging her to a guest bedroom. Rafe immediately started pushing people to get to the stairs.
"Rafe! Stop!" Sarah shouted. "You're so controlling!" She hurried after him, wishing everyone would move out of the way.
Rafe cursed under his breath at the, what felt like, unnecessary amount of stairs. For he once he didn't appreciate having such a big house. He pushed open every door most of them, fortunately, being empty. The only door locked was the last one at the end of the hallway. He started banging his fist on the door.
"Someone's in here!" He heard Cooper shouted from inside only adding fuel to the fire.
Rafe stepped back before throwing his body into the door. He huffed and reeled his leg back, kicking the wooden door open. He stomped inside the room seeing Cooper on top of y/n who was confused, attempting to push him off of her.
"Mother Fucker." Rafe spat charging towards Cooper. He grabbed the back of his shirt getting him off of her. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Rafe grabbed him roughly making him face him. "You think I was gonna let you get away with that?"
"She's not your girl anymore, Cameron." Cooper chuckled, but was cut off my Rafe swinging at him. His fist connecting directly to his jaw.
"I'm gonna fucking kill you." Rafe kicked his legs out from underneath him before getting on top of him and beginning to pummel his fist into his face. Cooper's blood poured out of his nose and mouth onto Rafe's fist and the floor.
"Oh my god," Sarah exclaimed seeing Rafe. Topper and Kelce ran into the room going to pull Rafe off of Cooper. "y/n!" She ran to the bed sitting next to her.
"Sarah.." y/n grabbed her hand. Her brain still fuzzy from the liquor, but being more alert now.
"It's me." Sarah nodded. "I'm so sorry. It's gonna be okay." She let y/n lean into her. She wrapped her arms around her tight. Tears welled in her eyes feeling slightly responsible for the situation. "I'm sorry."
y/n only scooted as close to Sarah as she could. The feeling of her arms around her and her hand stroking her head making her feel safe again.
"Rafe! Man, stop!" Topper and Kelce shouted using all their strength to pull Rafe off the boy before he killed him.
Cooper coughed, blooding splashing onto the floor.
The room fell almost completely silent. The only noises being heard was the boys heavy breathing, Cooper's whining, and Sarah's sniffling.
"Get everyone out." Rafe instructed Topper and Kelce. They looked at Sarah who nodded before they walked out the room. "Make sure she's okay." Rafe looked at Sarah. His stare was hard, telling Sarah he was blaming her.
"I will." Sarah nodded.
Rafe grabbed Cooper and pulled him up. The boy groaned and struggled against his grip, but Rafe was still able to drag the boy away.
"I'm so sorry, y/n." Sarah leaned her forehead against hers.
"It's not your fault." y/n whispered. "Just keeping holding me, please."
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y/n laid in Sarah's bed in a pair of comfy clothes she had left before. She stared at the tv not really paying attention to the show as Sarah was in her bathroom showering.
The bedroom door opened making y/n sit up. She relaxed a little upon seeing Rafe. He quietly closed the door as walked over the side of the bed.
"Hi?" y/n said softly. She moved letting her feet hang off the side.
"Are you okay?" Rafe asked sitting beside her.
"Yeah." She nodded looking at him shyly. "Thank you."
"I would never let anyone hurt you." Rafe said. "Together or not. I won't let anyone touch you."
y/n gave him a small smile before looking down at her feet.
"I wanna get back together, baby." Rafe said. He got down on his knees in front of her so her thighs were on either side of him.
"Rafe..." y/n sighed. "You're just saying that because you're worried. You don't love me." She shook her head.
"I love you more than anything else in the world, baby." Rafe grabbed her face in his hands. "I thought letting you go would protect you, but I now know the only way you'll be safest is with me."
"What?" y/n scrunched her brows.
"You can't do things like this anymore. You have to stay with me. You saw what happened tonight when I let you go on your own. What if I wasn't here?" Rafe explained. "You have to stay with me, okay?"
"Okay." y/n nodded slowly.
Rafe smiled getting up off his knees. He leaned down kissing her forehead. "Stay with Sarah tonight. I'll see you in the morning."
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strniohoeee · 7 months
Text
Disdain
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Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader ⚠️SMUT⚠️
Synopsis: Matt wants to keep Y/N, but won’t be her man’s, so what happens when they go to a Halloween party, and Matt sees something he doesn’t like🫠
Warnings⚠️: This is straight up SMUT. There’s smacking, degrading, manhandling. It’s just filthy sooo read at your own risk
Song for the imagine: Drama-Roy Woods ft. Drake, Thong Song- Sisqo
This story is 18+, so if you’re a minor DO NOT INTERACT⚠️
Matt and I had been in this weird gray area of being a couple, but not really being a couple. Like he was so sweet to me, and would take me out on dates and treat me like his girl, but then wouldn’t call me his girlfriend or be with me publically.
I hated it so much because he would treat me like I was his, but really I wasn’t, and anytime I brought this up he would go on this whole rant of “it doesn’t matter . Who cares about labels” My issue with that was he’s had girlfriends publically in the past, so I wasn’t sure what changed when it came to me.
About a month ago when he and I were doing really well, and acting like a real couple we decided we wanted to be Jessica Rabbit and Roger Rabbit for this Halloween party his brothers and I got invited to. Slowly I started looking into buying the costume parts, but when he started pissing me off I had only purchased the red sparkly strapless dress.
About two weeks before the party I decided I was no longer going to match costumes with him, but I didn’t tell him I wanted him to look like an idiot. Just how he made me look like one
The night of the party I had went over to the triplets house to get ready with them. Still Matt didn’t suspect a thing, but I had been distant these past two weeks not really talking to him or hugging or kissing him. He just assumed we were on our “break” and he didn’t really care. Not shocked
The party started at 11, and we were all finishing up our costumes. We decided to all walk out one by one and show them off.
Nick was Corlines other dad, and Madi was the other mother, Chris was Steve Harrington, and Matt came out dressed as Roger rabbit.
The only person who knew I changed my costume was Nick, and he was trying to keep his composure looking at Matt dressed like a fool.
“Okay Y/N come out” Madi said clapping her hands together
I walked out in my strapless sparkly red dress that pushed my boobs up nice and high, and the slit was from my bikini line down to my ankles. Sadly I wasn't going to be going commando as my whole ass would be out with a slight movement, so I had on a red thong. I had a gold leg garter that had a red heart on it, and my black stiletto heels. I had my makeup done like a sad flapper
“What do we think” I said spinning around
“BETTY BOOP” Chris screamed jumping up and down. Betty boop was one of Chris weird cartoon crushes
I nodded my head at this giving them a slight spin around
“You look so fucking hot” Madi came screeching over to me and grabbing my hands
“Y/N this costume is too good” Nick said in a giddy way
“What the fuck” Matt finally says with a straight face
“Oh I forgot to tell you I didn’t want to do a matching couple costume since we aren’t a couple” I said giving him a fake frown
“Ouuu she got you good” Chris said laughing at his idiot brother
“Whatever I look like an idiot, and I’m changing my costume” he said standing up abruptly and going to his room
About 10 minutes later he came back downstairs dressed as a cowboy. He looked hot I can’t deny, but he wasn’t my man so fuck him
We had all piled into the car as Matt drove us to the party at Larrays house. We knocked on the door and Larry opened it
“BITCHHHHH yall look so fucking good” he said letting us walk into his house
“Okay matty poo with the slutty little cowboy costume” Larry said, and to this Matt gave him a half smile, and then he walked away from us
“Oh what crawled up his ass” Larry said looking at us
“Y/N decided to not match costumes with him, so now he’s all pissy” Chris said
“Oh boy bye, Y/N you look so hot like Okayy with the red thong I see you” he said, grabbing my hand and spinning me around.
“Thanks baby” I said hugging him
We were at the party for a good two hours at this point. I had drank two drinks, and was feeling so confident, and decided I wanted to dance. Initially I was looking for Matt, but when I saw him he was shooting darts into my eyes with his arms crossed over his chest, and his jaw clenched. I just rolled my eyes, and looked for someone else
I had grabbed any random influencer I saw, and asked if they wanted to dance. Of course they did a random girl wanting to grind on them? How could they say no
As we got to the dancing area Thong Song started playing
Immediately I started jumping in excitement
“This is my fucking songggg” I screamed and pushed us to the center of the “dance floor”
At first I was dancing alone, running my hands all over myself swaying my hips while I sang the song. A circle had opened up surrounding me dancing. I grabbed Madi and we started dancing on each other, and then I grabbed
Chris and Nick also dancing with them in a friendly way.
“LARRAY COME DANCE” I said reaching for his hands. He immediately jumped into the circle and started dancing with me while everyone cheered us on. That’s when I saw the guy I initially brought to the dance floor
“Come on hottie let’s dance” I said grabbing him. I turned around so my back was against his chest, and started to grind on him wrapping my hands around his neck as our hips swayed together
“Bitchhhhhh FUCK IT UPPPP” LARRAY screamed clapping his hands together
“SHAKE THAT ASSSSSS” Nick yelled at me
This whole time Matt was in the corner watching Y/N intensely with a straight face. Fuming that she had the audacity to even grind up against someone who she didn’t know. When his hands started running down her waist, she threw her head back laughing. Matt got so pissed he pushed himself off the couch, and started to stomp over to them. Just as he reached them the song ended, and it got quiet
“Let’s fucking go” Matt said to Y/N going to grab her arm
“Fuck no” she said pulling away
“I didn’t ask! WE ARE LEAVING NOW” he said yelling the last part and yanking her away from the boy
Everyone in the crowd is watching with a shocked face
“BYEEEE, and cute boy find me I wanna take you out” Y/N said looking back at him, and to this Matt yanked her harshly to walk in front of him
Matt brought the girl to the car opening the passenger side door for her, and throwing her in
After he got back in the car and turned it on he turned the car on, and put it into drive quickly taking off
“Aww what a gentleman opening the passenger side for me” Y/N said giggling at him
“Shut the fuck up” Matt said clenching his jaw not even looking over at the girl
“What crawled up your ass” Y/N said
“You grinding on another guy” he said bluntly
“Not like we’re a couple” she said rolling her eyes
“Doesn’t matter” he said looking over at her
“Oh but it does. YOU ARE NOT MY MAN I CAN GRIND ON WHOEVER I WANT” I said lightly
“Watch your fucking tone” he said scoffing
“Or what? You gonna hit me” She said looking at him
“Want me to?” Matt asked as they pulled up to a red light
She started to lean in like she was going to kiss him on the cheek, but instead said “go fuck yourself” she said leaning back away.
Matt looked over at her, and smacked her across the face. Harshly but not enough to actually hurt her. It was more of a sexual smack
“Don’t fucking smack me” Y/N said and smacked the boy back in the face. He grabbed her hand and yanked her in closely
“Put your hands on me again, and I’ll fucking make you regret it” he said pushing her away as the light turned green
“Don’t touch me” she said back to him, and he grabbed her hand once again and brought it down to his bulge
“Do you see what you do to me, you make me so fucking hard” he said sighing as her hand came into contact with his dick
“Oh do I?” She said palming his dick, and he slightly threw his head back
“Fuck you’re gonna make me crash” he said
“So pay attention to the road, and let me take care of you” she said taking his dick out of his pants
She spat on the tip, and slowly started to jerk him up and down
“Shit that feels so good” he said gripping the steering wheel with his left hand
She slowly took his dick into her mouth. Swirling her tongue over his tip, and deep throating him. As her head was bobbing up and down Matt grabbed her hair moaning and thrusting his hips up. Y/N gagged at this
“Sorry baby I can’t help myself” Mat said moaning, and to this she moaned on his dick
“Fuck this I need you now” he said, and slowly pulled over to a secluded empty parking lot
After he threw the car in park Y/N took her heels off and jumped to the back seat, and Matt followed.
Immediately crashing his lips to her in a heated sloppy make out session. He pulled her dress down a little bit allowing her breasts to fall out. He started sucking and groping her breasts. As her back was digging into the handle
“Fuck Matt don’t stop” she said throwing her head back a little bit
“Look at you in this slutty dress with such easy access” He said squeezing her thigh
“Matt please I need more of you” she said pushing his head back. He backed up giving her a once over before nodding his head.
He went down to her thigh and grabbed the leg garter with his teeth pulling it down and off her leg, and putting it on the arm rest
“Open your mouth” he said lightly smacking her face, her mouth opened and he shoved her middle and finger finger in her mouth
“Get them nice and wet for me” he said watching her through half lidded eyes
Y/N swirled her tongue around his fingers, and he pulled them out. Pushing her panties to the side he rubbed her clit, and slowly slid both of his fingers in
“Oh my god” she said grabbing his arm
“You hear how this pussy sounds for me” he said slamming her fingers into her, all you could hear were the most obscene sounds coming from her pussy
“Matt I’m gonna cum if you keep speaking like that” the girl said as her eyes rolled to the back of her head
“You’re not cumming on my fingers” he said, and pulled his finger out her and smacked her pussy
She jumped at this and whined. Matt slid his pants down just enough for his cock to spring out. He pumped his cock a few times before spitting on Y/N pussy
“You’re getting fucked like a slut” he said as he slid his cock up and down on her pussy
“Please Matt I need it” she said moaning and breathing heavily
He slid into her pussy completely bottoming out. They both sighed at this feeling
“This pussy is mine” he said as he harshly grabbed her breast
Matt was relentlessly pounding into the young girl. Her back banging into the door handle, and her head slightly hitting the window
“Matt please harder” she said pulling his hair
“Shut the fuck up” he said as his hips snapped in an even fast faster
All that could be heard was skin slapping, moans and the banging of Y/N’s head on the window
He started to rub her clit as he pounded even harder into her
“FUCK MATT OH MY GOD” she yelled grabbing onto his hair for support
“Shut the FUCK up” he said looking into her eyes
“I can’t Matt you feel too good” she said moaning
He repositioned her hips, and started slamming into her at an ungodly pace
“MATT MATT MATT” she started screaming
“I said SHUT THE FUCK UP” he grunts out loudly as he smacks her across the face
“Fuck Matt” she said whining
He was getting close so his thrusts started to become deep and hard. Slamming into her with no mercy. He hit her G spot really hard, and Y/N was sure she died
“FUCK MATTTTTT” she screamed
“You don’t learn do you” he said as he grabbed her leg garter and shoved it in her mouth to keep her quiet
Matt continued to pound into her, and when she started to shake he knew she was about to cum
“Come on baby cum for me” he said furiously rubbing her clit. It didn’t take much more of that. She came on his cock moaning and weeping with tears falling down her face as her thighs started to shake
“Matt cum in me” she said coming down from her high as she removed the leg garter from her mouth
Immediately after that Matt came inside her with his brows furrowed and his mouth hung open. Pumping her full of his cum. After he came down from his high he pulled out and she slid her panties back on and pulled her dress up
“Fuck that was so hot” she said fixing herself up
“You’re mine” Matt said as he finished readjusting himself
She looked over at him confused
“Whatever it is you want! I’m yours I’ll be your man, your husband, your boy toy whatever you want I’m yours” he said looking at her in a fucked our expression
“Damn you’re so pussy drunk” she said laughing at him
“Don’t push it” he said with a straight face
“I can be your girlfriend I suppose” She said shrugging her shoulders
“Don’t play with me” Matt said looking at her
“I’m kidding. Yes Matt I’d love to finally be your girlfriend” she said kissing him on the cheek
“Good because I’m never letting you go” he said kissing her on the lips
“Alright let’s head home” Matt said as he helped Y/N back to the passenger seat
“Yeah my back is fucking hurting after being slammed into the handle non stop” she said laughing
“Im sorry baby” Matt said laughing with her
“It’s okay you were fucking me so good the pain went away” she said winking at him
He just looked down shyly and then drove back to the house.
The End
This was so fun to write🤪🤪 Now I’ll be working on my request I got, so expect to see that shortly🫶🏽
-J💅🏽
725 notes · View notes
rebelliousstories · 11 days
Text
Out and About
Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Child!Reader
Fandom: Fallout
Request: Yes by @that-teen2003
Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst
Word Count: 858
Main Masterlist: Here
Fallout Masterlist: Here
Summary: When a kid suddenly pops up in the Wasteland, you treat that child like a bear cub; don’t even look at it until you’ve confirmed it’s alone.
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A vault suit sticks out like a sore thumb in the desert of the Wasteland. It was so bright, and blue, and very impractical for the harsh reality of the terrain. That is why when he saw it, Cooper’s interest was peaked. That and the cowboy hat the person sported much like his own. Because it was not even a fully grown human wearing the offending garment; it was a child.
The Ghoul looked around as the small being was wandering the rough terrain with cautious eyes. Surely this child was not alone. But it just kept exploring as if it had done it its entire life. He kept a safe distance as he followed the child, just hoping that this belonged to someone nearby. But no one ever came. No mom, no dad, no authority of any kind came to collect this child.
It was currently climbing inside of an old house when Cooper noticed how fast the sun was setting. There would be horrible things coming for that child in the dark of the night. He heard a crash, and immediately drew his gun before running inside the decrepit house. What he saw shocked him. There this little child was, nursing a small fire with a can of cram in its hands that it was eating.
In the firelight, Howard noticed that this small child was a girl, probably no older than six. It reminded him of his little Janey that remained as vivid as ever in his memory two hundred years later. Without consciousness, he began to move closer by did not see the empty can that was right in front of him. He accidentally kicked the object, sending it flying and clanging about the home which startled the child. She let out a yelp, and held her food closer to her chest as she stared at the new person with fear in her eyes. Cooper held out a hand to calm her down, and placed his gun back on his hip. She moved closer to see who the new man was.
“Whoa.” She breathed out and nearly dropped her food. There was no fear left in her eyes after comprehending The Ghoul before her. Suddenly, she was up on her feet and ran straight to the man who was utterly confused. Even with him crouched, she only came up to his chest. Her tiny arms struggled to wrap around him.
“It’s you! It’s you,” came her exclamation. Her voice trailed off as she settled but Cooper was stiff as a board. Pulling the child away, he looked at her closer. She was thin and sunburnt from surviving the Wasteland but her teeth looked good still.
“Whatcha talkin’ ‘bout, little one?” Cooper’s hairless brow furrowed as he knelt down to be on her level.
“You’re Cooper Howard. You’re da sheriff from T.V.” Her toothy grin showed. There were a couple missing, but she did not seem to care. Taking off her hat, she passed it to the man with all the innocence only a child cold have.
“Can you sign dis, please?”
That one ask broke him inside. He felt his heart shattering. It had been so long since someone had asked him to do that; he had completely forgotten the feeling. This little child had thawed his blackened heart in a matter of seconds.
“Where you from darlin’? Why you out here all by yourself lonesome and not with your momma?” Cooper chose to avoid her question, knowing that he did not have any instrument to sign the hat. The child, whose name was still a mystery, looked down at her feet that were kicking around sand before she answered.
“My mommy was behind me, den she wasn’t. She told me to run, so I did cause Mommy said I have to listen to her widout question here. I don’t know where she is.” Again, The Ghoul felt his heart break. Chances were, that woman was long dead and chose to spare her child the same fate. It seemed to have worked, but the could not have been out of the vaults long.
“Well, little one. What’s your name? Seein’ as you know mine,” said Cooper. He tried to smile kindly and not scare off the child, although she seems to not be the slightest bit afraid. She supplied her name, and took a much needed bite of food.
“Can I stay with you? It’s scary up here alone.” Even without those puppy eyes she was giving, Cooper already knew his answer. He nodded and walked over to the fire once more. Sitting with his back to the wall, Howard added some more tinder to the fire and was shoved slightly. The girl had moved his arm so that she was curled up against his side, with her head on his chest. Her can of food was empty and discarded as she drifted off to sleep.
Muscle memory kicked in. Cooper checked her breathing, and looked around for any potential threats lurking. With his gun at the ready, he slipped into a light sleep with a little girl on his chest once more.
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bucknastysbabe · 4 months
Note
now, catholic school priest criston and aemonds twin. Criston is from a catholic family, wanted to be a priest since he was a little boy, going to the sunday mass with his mothet was like the highlight of his week, went into the seminary very young, never had a girlfriend, he is a good man alright. then aemonds twin, whos not catholic, not even christian, her dad doesnt even go to church but alicent is very catholic and she wanted her kids to go to catholic school. but shes a menace, a straight up gremlin, like aegon but a girl and not a loser (srry aegon ily). And criston is sure the devil sent her to tempt him and shes like but what if it was god the one who sent me for you??? And specially for you??? Like, as a treat?! 🤗
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Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 6k of filth and catholic guilt
Tags: 90’s catholic school setting, Criston had the Crisis, mutual masturbation, confession booth shenanigans, age difference, manipulation, teacher/student relationship, sexual tension, Targtower reader, Criston’s woe is me internal monologue, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, pnv!sex, Jesus saw that Crispy, DESPERATION, priest kink, #imahorridcatholic
A/N: I made that priest edit and I’m proud also listened to talk by hozier for the entire last part. I’m a gremlin and made her her daeron’s twin.
Taglist: @fairysluna @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @arcielee @bambitas
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Criston knew his purpose since the day he could recall. Nothing pleased him more than sitting in mass with his mother, going through Sunday school, getting ready to become an official Catholic. Confirmation was the one of the happiest days of his life.
Vocation became the forefront of Criston’s mind in school. He probably annoyed the hell out of Father Dondarrion, pestering the priest with questions upon questions about seminary. In the mean time, he was the best altar boy a Cole could be. A-team altar boy! Strong fumbled the bells every time, it repulsed Criston.
He did other school things such as tennis, won a state championship in that, got some offers for a spot on a college team. Then in the other season he played second base for the baseball team, won a state championship in that and received multiple offers to college teams. No, Criston had his mind made up. He could lead others to victory— through Christ’s love of course. He had to admit his father was quite pissed about the baseball team but he’d be okay. Criston had a little brother, he was athletic.
The young man had even tried dating, just to see if God called for Criston to instead populate the world and lead a family. Not tend to the flock of sheep. There was a plethora of girls but he fell for a devil.
Her name was Rhaenyra Targaryen and she left him in a puddle of tears. The rich girl couldn’t respect staying chaste until marriage. He was ready to give her a ring. The priest sniffed recalling her harsh words, “You, like, won’t even dry hump me? What’s the point?” At the time the young man was miffed, broken, distraught. Criston held a hand over his heart as he whispered tearily, “You want me to be your whore?”
Mind you, he was a foolish 17 year old. The man was tested with her, but he learned from the experience. Criston was obviously meant to be a priest. He prayed and prayed for God to reveal his path. The answer came in Father Dondarrion giving Criston a letter from the Archbishop himself, inviting the young man to join seminary.
Criston took his first vows at the tender age of 18. He spent the next seven years learning and perfecting his bond with God, ready to guide his brothers and sisters in Christ. He’d smile and wave off comments at his home parish, often elder women asking why such a handsome young man would devote his life to chastity.
He rarely thought much of it. Jerking off was a boring thing, simply a biological process Cole needed to take care of. He took no shame nor pleasure in it, not truly thinking of anything at all. It would lessen as he aged but currently Criston was twenty-five and a ‘hot blooded’ young man.
He got his first job as a teacher in a Catholic school. At the beginning, Father Criston Cole found a passion for teaching while on a mission trip. He was ecstatic for the job. A year later he was significantly less overzealous. Add some years later Criston found himself, well, bored. Agitated. Discontent if you will.
Lord knows he had to calm himself for these wayward children. After a long day the man would pour some scotch and wonder why the rich ones were the worst behaved. Especially the damn Targaryens— he thought he could escape from that name.
Rhaenyra’s father had remarried and they had five children. Rhaenyra had five herself, different fathers came the whispers. The two youngest apparently looked like her. Criston smirked into his glass, God was watching and protecting him even as a foolish kid. She left the church anyways, but the children were polite and well-behaved in class.
Alicent Hightower-Targaryen’s children were a handful. Aegon made Criston sick to his stomach, the idiot either drunk or high in class, flipping up skirts of poor girls. If the priest thought about the eldest too long he’d grow a headache. He chose not to dwell on the fact that the family generously paid for Aegon to graduate— like a twisted version of simony.
Then along came sweet Helaena, she made good marks but often had to be drawn back to attention, and he tried to stifle the bullying drawn to her strange nature. Aemond was another headache, in a good way. He seemed to fit the vocational lifestyle and bonded with Criston over it. Criston truly enjoyed discussing hot topics in the church with the smart lad.
Aemond just needed to let his anger go and let God in, Criston had to do the same, his temper could be stormy. Then Aemond graduated and went off to study the sciences. Criston frankly thought he was done. He forgot. The twins were seniors and signed into his year-long Papal History elective.
He was now 32, and God really had sent him a test this time. In the form of good-natured Daeron’s wily sister. He had to send her to the Headmaster’s office the first day! The pale-haired girl was wearing an…indecent…skirt. One to catch long shapely legs.
He huffed and downed the rest of his scotch. He knelt before his icon of Christ and prayed. ‘Please my loving lord, I am afraid you shall test me, but give me the strength to pass through this.’ He felt strange. This girl was trouble. Criston wiped his face and grabbed his scotch again, one more would do for the night. He hissed, “FuckingfuckfucksticksFUCK!” Eyes widening he apologized to the empty room, “Forgive me my lord, that was uncouth.”
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It was November 1997. Father Cole thought about making a request to a parish to be their full-time priest. He suited up for the lovely worship of Mass, mood sour. Deacon Erryk was next to him, almost out of his seminary studies. Erryk hummed, “How’s the class this year?”
“A pain in my side. I have another Aegon Targaryen in the form of his youngest sister. She seeks to make me miserable.”
The man stifled a laugh and prodded, “Damn. Aegon was bad, he was in my class with you. My condolences Criston, pray that Mary will bless the girl with some sense.”
Criston grumbled, “Indeed.” He felt old. Erryk was about to be a priest now.
Mass went off good as gold, the younger altar boys falling into place easily. He could always see the believers and non-believers based on their actions. Some wouldn’t even stand when he entered the room, the cross bearer ignored too. If Criston could start throwing Holy Water he would, ingrates.
In the front row, Daeron and his sister sat. Criston tried not to grimace as he sat down in his chair. They’d have mass every Friday at the school. Confession on Tuesdays. Criston would teach a RCIA class next semester for those outside of the school at night.
She was staring at him, wearing another little dress with her button-up underneath the skinny straps. He could see her smokey eyeshadow and glossed lips, moving around a piece of gum. Daeron held himself in reverence, hands clasped. Criston turned away, he would not give the evil little blonde any satisfaction!
He shivered when she knelt and took the body of Christ, tongue lapping against his fingers with a licentious look. The priest almost yelped, moving onto the next. He was shaken for the rest of the ceremony. Maybe he should call for advice— no, no, they would think Cole some sort of deviant pedophile. That was a problem enough and she was merely being a temptress. ‘Son of a fucking BIIIIIIITCH’, he thought angrily. Then did the sign of the cross.
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The beleaguered priest sat at his desk during his planning period, grading papers. The headphones on his head played some songs— his only vice. He loved ‘radical’ music. So Criston kept that little secret to himself. He liked to belt rock ballads. Only by himself in the rectory.
How embarrassing. A grown man of the cloth.
The door opening had Criston jerking his head up, hand flicking off his walkman. He raised a brow when it was the little Targaryen and her mother, livid by her expression and wild red hair. She shoved the girl in a seat and crossed her arms.
Criston stood up and greeted the frankly scary woman, “Miss Hightowergaryen, oh, Hightower-Targaryen yes!” He peeked at teary red eyes, deadpanning, “And you.” The senior scoffed, “Good to see you too Father.” He ignored her quip and cautiously asked, “What seems to be the problem?” Alicent raved, “She’s going off the wrong path, just like Aegon. Guess where Aegon is, tell Father Cole please!” She gave her daughter a sharp look.
The girl mumbled something before getting a pinch to her arm. She croaked, “He’s in rehab! Rehab! Alright there mom!” The younger curled in and hid under her blonde hair, streaked with some sort of red dye.
He frowned but couldn’t say he was quite surprised. Criston offered, “My apologies, may he find the light of His way soon. Occasionally some rejoin the church or convert after getting clean and sober. Is there an issue with my student Miss?”
Alicent sighed, calming a bit and taking a deep breath. She looked up, doe eyes wide and pleading. The mother asked, “Can we go into your private office for a second Father?” She stopped and hissed, “Don’t you move an inch!”
A roll of violet eyes was the answer, pouting lips turning further downward.
Criston perched on his desk and tried to soothe the woman, “Alicent, relax my old friend, what can I do for you?” He offered a look of sympathy, watching her pace and run a hand wildly through her hair. The woman stopped in place and whimpered, “She’s so lost, I can’t screw up another one of my babies. I need you to keep an eye on her, pray and guide, something…Something so I know I tried.”
She looked very tired, taking a sharp breath in to chew at her nails. Alicent rambled, “She was so good, her and Daeron were so good. Then she turned sixteen and something happened, I don’t know what, and it’s gotten worse. She hates Sunday mass, like Aegon and Rhaenyra. I don’t want to lose her forever to whatever this is, straying off the path.”
He nodded contemplatively, hand on his chin, thinking. Alicent was in a state of chronic stress, even back when they were all in school. She married Rhaenyra’s father so young, nineteen to be exact. He felt a need to protect the woman of God, just trying her best to lead her children to heaven since Viserys did not seem to be in the picture.
He swore, “I’ll do my best, you have my word Alicent. God bless you, let me bless you.” He prayed over her and the tenseness seemed to leave her shoulders. Alicent smiled softly and thanked Criston, the pair of them exiting the office.
Her daughter remained seated, looking more miserable by the second. She gazed up with curious eyes, mouth still set in a pout. Alicent beamed, “Father Criston will be keeping an eye on you and reporting to me, okay? You will behave and try to learn that the path of the righteous is never easy.”
She raised a brow, “So I’m going to have my priest follow me around? That’s uncool.”
Alicent stiffened and remarked, “No. You’ll come to him when in trouble. You’ll be spending lunch with him too so you don’t go off and smoke like a vagrant. We will go sign it in with the headmaster now. Get up.”
Criston had to hold his jaw closed. He definitely did not know what he was signing up for. Hail Mary, full of grace rambled off in his head. This would be a tumultuous year for sure— inked and sealed onto paper. God bless him.
“I guess we’ll be the best of friends now,” she snarled tearily.
Criston placed a hand on her shoulder and hummed, “God works in mysterious ways Targaryen.” Internally he was climbing a mountain and shouting at the heavens like some Bible prophet. He was feeling very Job-like at the moment.
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First of all, he truly didn’t expect the girl to sit in his classroom during lunch. Criston raised a brow when she entered, slammed down her lunch and plopped down. She cocked her head and smiled, “Afternoon father.”
“Afternoon,” he replied, turning his gaze back upon the scripture he was annotating. Cole wanted to comment on her sudden chopping of that beautiful white-blonde hair, or the fact she smelled of minty cigarettes. She wasn’t supposed to be smoking.
It remained quiet until she blurted, “Do you smoke?”
Yes, in fact he did. But she didn’t need to know that. Criston murmured, “No I do not.” To which she lobbed back, “Is it not a sin to lie? I saw you in the parking lot! Also you smell like marlboros sometimes.” Her face turned bright red— like she had no control over her yapping.
Criston peeled off his glasses and sat back in his chair to level the girl with a stern look. He flatly stated, “Yes, good point, it was a sin for me to lie. Although as your teacher and priest I would not have you pick up bad habits,” he took a moment before asking, “How do I smell of cigarettes in class? Are you sniffing me?”
She stammered, “N-no! No! It’s just when you pass by, I don’t know, stop!”
Criston shook his head in concern, “Please do not sniff me in class, that’s, that’s strange.”
“I don’t sniff you! Quit saying that! Okay, enough of smoke talk! Hi how are you doing Father Cole?,” she animatedly gestured, eyes wild and cheeks pink.
He couldn’t help but snicker at her mad gestures. Snickers turned into genuine laughter, Criston slapping his desk a bit. A different hand slapping down on his desk made the man look up, donning a grin at her grumpy face. The littlest dragon hissed, “Ha-ha very funny. I asked you a question. Small talk, since I’m stuck here with you for lunch.”
Criston shrugged and replied, “Ask a better question, I don’t know how I’m doing half of the time. Especially having to babysit a legal adult.”
Her pout was endearing, the girl biting into her sandwich in an aggressive manner. She chewed and swallowed before blurting, “Is it true my half-sister dumped you in highschool?” Criston squawked in surprise, heaven on earth, how would she even get the knowledge? Rubbing the bridge of his nose he sighed.
“Yes, she dumped me. Didn’t want to stay chaste until marriage. That was a little personal don’t you think Miss Targaryen?”
She seemed to contemplate his words, sounding out her thoughts, “Now you’re a priest and she has like 2 baby daddies and a gay hubby. Cool. Love my family.” Her laugh was a sharp giggle, almost sarcastic in nature. Nothing like the torture of Aegon’s nonsensical shrieks.
Criston smiled a bit at the information, leaning back in his chair. He sucked on his teeth and asked her, “Why’d you cut off all your hair?” She narrowed her eyes and smiled, “I was wondering if you would make a comment, quote some scripture that shorter hair is for lesbians and therefore I’m going to hell.” The older man gaped and stared, almost choking at her blunt words.
“No- what? You’ve got some sort of an imagination!,” he sipped on a water bottle, offended she would assume he was that mean, “I think it fits you nicely, glad whatever dye you put in was lost in the chop.” He shook his head, muttering about lesbian scripture. She giggled again, content with flustering the priest.
Criston tried to hold off a headache as she yapped about school. He snorted a bit when she marked some of the students on the dot. Soon the bell rang and she packed up her lunch, swinging her backpack on. Stopping at the door she asked, “So what’s your poison of choice? I like the fancy camel ones.”
He stared blankly before deadpanning, “Marlboro reds, now begone Targaryen.”
Her endearing giggle echoed as she left, the door swinging shut. Criston sat back in his chair and sighed— she had spunk. He quite appreciated it. Maybe she was a gift to spice up his growing distaste of where his life was at.
His dark eyes widened. He’s got to be too young for a midlife crisis? Now he really wanted a cigarette.
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Father Criston Cole was indeed having a mid-life crisis. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, fitting his clerical collar on. Peering closer he inspected his face. He was still relatively young looking, hair not showing any grays. Practicing a smile he immediately dropped the grin. Crows feet. Great.
The priest shivered at the slight wrinkles. Why did he care? He didn’t have anyone to impress. A cheeky smile and icy eyeshadow, choppy blonde hair flitted through his mind. Goodness gracious he was her teacher, her priest, went to school with the girl’s parent. A spiritual guide!
This was bad. The damn girl had him wrapped around her ringed pinky. Bringing her little gifts, letting the blonde stay after school to chit chat. One time he let her cry on his shoulder, upset about rumors swirling. Criston heard a lot in the classroom.
Slut, whore, burnout, bitch.
He didn’t want to know what the little dragon got up to in her spare time but his knuckles did whiten at the thought of her not treating her body as a temple. Letting stupid boys have their way. Not like he could help. He was a priest and the farthest he’d ever gotten was smooching Rhaenyra and grabbing her tit before freaking out.
He needed to pray. Pray away these sinful thoughts. Guilt wracked his chest. He couldn’t turn the girl away either— he made a promise to Alicent. On a better note, her grades and attendance had improved. Ali called him once to thank the priest for helping her daughter. Although the girl still was apprehensive about faith. He didn’t push the subject; she didn’t bring it up. Maybe sometime soon.
Brushing back his curls, Criston sprayed cologne on his dark garb. He bought it on a self-indulgent whim. Maybe to cover the cigarette smoke, truly to entice a certain favorite student. Instead he was pestered by other girls bringing treats and batting their eyes at him. The man of the cloth could care less about the others. He was hopelessly haunted by his agnostic, rebellious student.
The man prayed some, did a Hail Mary before smoking a cigarette or five with his coffee. He was jittery at school now, worried that somehow a teacher or the elder nun would run and declare him a sinful wretch. Locking himself in the office until class time seemed like a good option.
He tried to grade some papers, mind drifting off to the increasingly heavy burden on his shoulders. Something needed to give— he was afraid what that might be. Deacon Arryk gave the homily that morning mass since Criston was out of sorts. Trying to not stare when she knelt and took the body of Christ. Playfully flicking his fingers with that tongue and saying ‘amen’.
Thank the Trinity and the saints he was covered head to toe in thick vestments. Hiding his cock just brought to mind Criston’s change in habit. Jerking off wasn’t a mindless activity anymore. He imagined plump lips and her raspy voice, teasing him, so delightfully mean. Then he’d flip her around and- he usually came with a pathetic noise by that point in the fantasy.
He pressed his fingers into his temples, groaning aloud. Doomed. Eternal hell. Purgatory sentence maximum if he got lucky. The second bell of the day woke the man from his racing mind. Criston straightened up and popped some gum in. Mary take pity on his soul. Satan himself was testing Criston. Although he couldn’t help but think she was anything but demonic.
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The next day the tired priest had to attend confession for two hours. Usually it wasn’t a laborious affair; most of the kids who attended were the devout sort and only had some venial sins. Daeron Targaryen was a regular attendee, his twin was not.
He thought he was done for the day, sighing in relief. The two hours were up. Until the curtain swished and someone entered. The brunette thought to groan and hit his head on the wood. Fuck him— sorry, forgiveness please Lord for the profanity.
Criston’s eyes widened when he heard a familiar voice. That lilting, teasing, raspy voice that was the specter of the nightmares and fantasies. He could faintly see the outline of her, that damn silvery blonde hair.
“Uhhh, bless me father for I have sinned. It’s been, uh, one year since my last confession?” She made the sign of the cross, bracelets jingling. Criston could snort— blondie was obviously reading off a note card. She remained quiet afterward.
He prodded, “Go on child.”
She huffed, “I’ve lied, slandered, gossiped about others. I’m inattentive in mass. I don’t respect my parents. I’ve been ungrateful, taking the lords body out of a state of grace. Obviously I’m egotistical, depraved of thoughts, I’m selfish.”
Father Cole swallowed.
She laughed blithely, “I could probably keep going except for mortal sins? I steal, sneak, deceive, suffer from jealousy and envy. Bad bad envy. Always want what I can’t have, y’know?”
He wanted to ask her to clarify…but had a feeling.
The twin’s voice lowered to a purr, “I think you’re waiting for the grand finale. I’m lustful, wanton, perform unnatural acts of sex. Inordinate affection, especially for men who are sworn to another. I defile myself to the thought of him.”
Criston gripped his black slacks roughly, cock swelling so fast he was pretty sure his vision had spots in it. He discreetly tried to readjust himself, swallowing back a whine. The man was no better than a horny boy— denying the pleasures of the flesh for so long.
“I’m a fornicator. Not lately. I can’t stop touching myself to the thought of him.”
The priest hadn’t stopped rubbing himself, biting on his bottom lip to shut up as she rambled on. Oh, it felt so goddamn good he was panting. Meanwhile from the other side he could hear her shifting, voice growing breathier as she talked.
“I think about him touching me, kissing me, those pretty lips and dark eyes only for me. I fucking hate when other girls talk to him— I slashed one’s t-tires.”
“No swearing,” Criston grunted.
“Sorry, where was I? I came so hard the other day wondering what his cock would feel like inside of me. I don’t know if y- he would last long but I’d keep riding, oh mmh!,” her breath hitched and he could hear slick noises from beyond the screen. She was touching herself in the booth. Touching herself. In the booth.
He leaned back, head thumping against the wood, practically humping his hand. Criston whined through his nose, mouth hanging open. The man was a goddamn mess, pleading, “You’d ride him huh? Until he got ready again?”
“Mhmmm, yeah, I’d put his pretty cock in my mouth until I felt him get hard. Hah, what do you think he would do to me?”
Oh holy spirits, he had no clue? Everything? He’d do anything? He drew on his fantasies and the dirty mag a boy brought to class once. Criston went home and asked forgiveness for seeing the woman…doing that.
His voice was much more desperate than he expected, tan cheeks turning a shade of darker red. Criston rambled, “I, oh heavens, he would do whatever she asked, maybe, maybe, put his mouth on her.”
He must have said the right thing, her breath quickened and he could see the outline of her arm moving faster. Emboldened, Cole practically whined, “He’d lick and suck at her until she was crying and grabbing his hair, ohfuckinghellfires!” Criston’s cock throbbed and twitched as he cursed and shoved a hand down his slacks.
“Yeah? Yeah? He’d eat me out? Suck on my clit, slip some f-fingers inside? I’d want it so bad,” she whimpered shakily. The priest panted and popped the button so he could fist himself easier, moaning shamelessly, scrunching his eyes closed.
The blonde’s voice was muffled, “Mmm- I’d take such good care of him, he could e-eat me out but I’d ride his cock until he couldn’t cum anymore, F-father please!” Criston could hear her squeal and his dark hair fell into his face as he curled inward. He babbled uselessly, rubbing himself as spurt after spurt of seed wetted his briefs.
There was a heavy feeling in the confession booth. The pair panted, sitting in silence. Shame poured over Criston like a bucket of ice. He quickly rearranged himself to not look like someone who just had the most intense orgasm of his life. The priest wanted to talk, truly, but he had no words.
So he bolted, ignoring her calls of his name. Criston kept moving, heading toward the rectory, he’d have to call out. Everything was spinning and he needed to just, just, he didn’t know. The stickiness in his pants was worsening the horrid feeling of being a pervert, he should’ve just sent her away. He will end this immediately tomorrow, for both of their souls if he hasn’t doomed them.
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She didn’t appear for lunch. Did appear for class, eyes blazing into Criston’s head. Daeron even coughed and shoved her. She was glaring, not writing a damn thing as he lectured about the battle of Lepanto. The priest’s palms began to sweat. He wished the clock would go quicker.
“I’ll get a ride home, don’t worry about me Dare,” she said after the bell rung, students packing up their bags. Daeron raised an eyebrow but shrugged, moving on. One girl attempted to approach Criston with some papers in hand.
The dragon hissed something and shoulder checked the girl— Criston reluctantly scolding the blonde. Like it mattered, the other girl hightailed it out of his classroom. Pale eyes landed upon his own dark orbs, a strange look on her face.
“Office,” she said. Cole wasn’t in the position to deny. He tossed and turned all night, fighting whether to say fuck it and hang up the cassock or dismiss her and never speak of it again. When she was in his presence it leaned toward the former.
Criston walked in first, closing the blinds while she followed him. The man’s head jerked up when he heard the sound of the door locking. Little Miss Targaryen was wearing a particularly form fitting version of the school uniform, tits pushed up under the white button-down. Suddenly Criston was swallowing drool.
She snapped, “Sit down.”
He grabbed her shoulders and shook the senior a bit, leaning down to growl, “Do you even know what the hell you’re getting into? This could ruin us both! You aren’t going to order me around, I’m the damn adult here, I swore to your mother!” He sounded desperate, weary.
She sneered up at him, unphased, “Sit down or I’ll leave and pretend this never occurred. I know you want it, you want me,” she yanked at his white collar, “Mommy doesn’t have to know, Father.”
Why Criston was like a dog at a damn eighteen year old’s commands? He wasn’t quite sure. His tongue was glued down anyways, only huffing as he perched on the chair. She padded closer, smelling of vanilla and some other perfume. He bit off a whine when she sat on his desk, thighs spreading, giving the priest a view of her lacy skimp of underwear.
“Fucking hell baby,” he pled, hands aching to touch.
“What? You sure were enjoying yourself yesterday.”
He moaned, “We shouldn’t— this could cost us our souls. The deceiver is manipulating us, a test. I lost my wits yesterday.” Criston’s fingertips dug into his leaner thighs, eyes flicking between her pretty smirk and the peak of baby pink panties. The girl hummed sadly, faux pout setting his heart to aching something fierce.
“What if it isn’t the devil? What if I’m just a gift, for you, just for you Father,” she leaned in to his face, “Think outside your little imposed box. Don’t you feel this?” She snatched one of his hands, pressing it upon her beating heart, her soft breast.
He looked guiltily to the side. Criston whispered, “If you were a gift then why is are my feelings so wanton and lustful?”
Purple eyes rolled. She hiked the skirt up, exposing pale thighs and her cute underwear. Criston whimpered under his breath, hand still on her breast, squeezing. The girl moaned, “Chaste love, no, I think he sent me just for you, maybe you had the wrong calling?” Criston threw caution to the wind— the festering in his head grew, rotting away his senses.
He’d already fucked up. Her points were making more sense by the second. Why not enjoy life before he spent the afterlife in torment? He peered at his favorite and rasped, “Show me what to do, putting my mouth on you. Can I touch you?” The brunette internally cringed at his whiny tone. She smiled victoriously, breath delightfully hitching, manicured hands unbuttoning her top.
Criston grabbed ahold of those pretty thighs, marveling at how smooth they were as he pulled them forward until her ass was the only thing perched on his desk. She squeaked and grabbed onto his dark hair, cheeks going blotchy with pink spots. The priest figured he’d have a little instinct, something long denied festering along with his sinful thoughts.
Right now he was face to face with her cunt and Criston had lost his bravado, brown eyes peering up at her. She smirked knowing she had the upper hand again. The Targaryen laughed, “Alright, panties off first Father. Do you even know female anatomy?”
He blushed darkly, ignoring the comment and yanking down those pretty panties. They matched her bra, her breasts spilling out of the push-up with heavy breath. He stuffed the lace underwear selfishly in his pocket. Criston gritted his jaw, cock pressing painfully hard against the fly of his pants. She was glistening, swollen, something he could only conjure up and still get it wrong.
“The clit is the nub at the top,” she breathed.
Criston searched her eyes with his own, abashed at the lack of knowledge before delving his face between silky thighs. He moaned pitifully, embracing the natural scent, her hand in his curls. The man lapped at her sopping hole, excitedly delving his tongue inside, already obsessed with the sweet nectar.
“Fffuck,” she whined, thighs tensing around his neck. Criston’s nose bumped against her clitoris, reminding him of the ‘magic spot’ he’d heard girls giggle about between class changes. He licked his way upward, moaning, ignoring his own need. Pink lips sealed around her button, tentatively suckling.
The blonde jerked and mewled, “Criston, Criston, yes Father!”
He flicked his tongue against the button, big hands keeping those strong thighs from closing. She was trying to scoot away from his onslaught on her, whining and shivering. Criston pulled back to rumble, “All that talk and you’re running from my tongue now little girl?”
“M’gonna fucking cum,” she half-sobbed.
The priest wasn’t going to give up. He kept his attentions on that bundle, even slipping two fingers inside her pussy, exploring until she keened again. More and more slick covered his chin and fingers, utterly lost in this divine feeling. The blonde’s legs were shaking now, breath coming in short sobs. She babbled something, one hand white knuckling the desk, the other knotted into Criston’s hair.
He wished he could have saved her shrill cry of his name as Criston pushed the younger woman over that edge. She gushed and spasmed, finally pushing him away to settle down. Her makeup was smudged, hair a fucking mess. Cole thought she never looked prettier.
He was goddamn insane over her and he knew it. The devil long had his claws gripped into the priest. The man just lied and ignored until he couldn’t. Criston grabbed her and placed her on his thighs, cock pulsing, him reaching down to relieve pressure.
The blonde wrapped her arms round his neck, pretty pink nipples exposed now, the push-up doing nothing to help. She plastered herself to his body, lips mouthing across his neck, murmuring, “You learn quick, s’good.” Criston rubbed at her back, slipping a hand down to her a handful of her cute ass.
She pulled back, pale eyes roving Criston’s face. He stared in a daze as she spoke in a sultry, raspy tone, “You’re so hard, wanna fuck you, lemme fuck you Father.” He couldn’t help but moan long and low at her desperate plea. His cock was fit to burst, straining his briefs now.
“I want it, I want it,” he gasped.
In a flurry of movement he yanked off the collar, it would sicken him to have it on. She pulled at the buttons, pausing to unhook her bra, Criston shoving down his pants and underwear. She moaned, placing hands on his chest and sliding down trim stomach until a little hand grabbed his ruddy cock.
He made a strangled noise, eyes rolling up in his head. No wonder people did this— sin was utterly sweet. Criston panted her name, about to guide her hips onto him. He paused, brows furrowing. The deceiver himself spoke through her voice, “I’m on birth control, doesn’t matter.”
That’s all he needed to hear, roughly lifting her to guide his cock into that slick pussy. Criston made a gutted noise as she slipped onto him. Warm, wet, so goddamn snug and gently ridged. He whined, straight up whined, “Don’t move, don’t move, baby baby oh— haaah!”
She purred and pressed soft tits against Criston, their shallow breathing intermingling. The female whispered softly, petting his shoulders and arms, “S’okay, breathe, relax.”
Criston shook from head to toe, exhaling sharply, pitiful noises escaping a raw throat. He pressed his swollen lips to her forehead, forcing rapid breathing to a calmer state. Still, still, the brunettes balls throbbed and twitched.
He was gonna fuck her dammit. He’d gotten this damn far, his darkest desire to fuck and fill her up after more than two pumps would kill Cole. She teased, hands back on his chest, playing with his medals, “You can do it Father, you’re not so twitchy.”
He shook his head silently, focusing on the task at hand. Father Criston Cole could never deny his sweet little dragon. She’d started squirming and whining on his lap, slick soaking his loins. He took a tentative thrust upwards, lashes fluttering.
The dam broke loose.
Criston fucked and groped, lips messily smacking against her pretty plump pout. She rode him in earnest, meeting him thrust for thrust. The chair squeaked, they moaned, grunted, cried out, a feral quality to the sacred act. He was soaking in the slaps of skin, her hitches of breath, chanting his name like a damn litany.
Criston grabbed onto her hips, planting his feet on the floor, biting his lip and scrunching eyes tight. He was moaning and moaning, drool slipping out between searing kisses. His balls were drawing tight— pounding with the need of his release.
He shoved her upwards onto the desk, thrusting brutally as she cried in ecstasy. Criston pled, “M’gonna cum, c-can’t stop, oh fuck.” She cried, “Yesyesyes don’t you dare stop, m’close!” The older man felt his balls slapping against her ass, eyes rolling up again.
His orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks, Cole mouthing at perky tits, moaning as his release soaked her pussy. It was like he was floating. She bit down on her hand to muffle a wail, arching into him, cunt convulsing and wetting him further.
But Criston couldn’t stop. He kept fucking through the oversensitive pain, sounding like he was in agony as he pounded into her. Their mixed releases made everything slide easier, his turgid cock not softening. He babbled, “Not done, another baby, take it for me, take me please.”
The blonde’s only response was clinging to his tan body, nails digging into his shoulders, legs wrapped tight around his waist. She sobbed harder, “Do it do it— oh my God!” Criston whined her name through his nose, drunk off the feeling, not even aware of the blasphemy.
The office grew hot, noises of flesh and high sounds filling the small space. He couldn’t shut the fuck up either, rambling, “Wet baby, can’t help myself, gotta do it, fuck it all! M’still full up, gotta stuff you baby, how can I hngh not?” He reached down between them to circle haphazardly at her abused clit, the pretty thing writhing on his dick.
Another peak was approaching, he was already leaking, ready to empty another load deep inside her eager pussy. She tightened around him as he pinched her clit, crying real tears now, his name on her tongue like a broken record. Criston wetly cried into her fragrant neck, shoving himself deep inside to give her that last load.
He made a noise, she made a noise, everything growing foggy and distant.
Next thing he recalled was his demon, angel, twisted boon cuddled in his lap, tits still out. They were a sticky mess and he hoarsely asked, “How, ugh, long?”
“A couple of minutes. You went a little dumb there and I had to get your limp ass back into this chair,” she pressed her head into his chest, Criston naturally setting his chin on her head. His hands were slowly moving up and down her flanks. He still felt a bit dumb, dazed from the intense situation.
“You,” he swallowed, “Are a gift…I believe.”
She smiled softly, pecking his lips. The Targaryen mumbled, “We need to get ourselves together, I need a ride home.” Criston nodded, clinging tighter to her frame. He stammered, “O-okay, discuss this another time?”
“Sure, but after I show you what a blow job feels like.”
He didn’t object. The collar sat out of his sight, anything he once cherished gone from his mind. She took that place. He was irrevocably, obsessively infatuated. “I’ll have to leave my position after this year,” he murmured. She looked at him, a concerned look on dainty features.
“I think I’ll be around, will you?”
He remained silent, answer obvious in the air. He’d get down on his knees again and beg to never lose this gem. Fucked up from the get-go. For once, Criston Cole didn’t care. He kissed her instead.
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wires-and-hellfires · 2 months
Note
Hi could you do Alastor x Vox's sister that's staying at the hotel. Vox didn't know they were in hell and they are not a tech demon like him if this makes any sense.
Vox only realized it was his sister because unlike her brother who's good with tech she opposite like the best equivalent comparison I can think of is someone who's so bad at cooking that they could burn water.
Sorry for the long request you dont have to do it if you don't want to
look at how well you took care of me
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Pairing: Alastor & fem! reader (queer-platonic), Vox & sister! reader
Description: Vox comes to the realization that he may have made a mistake... he can only hope it's not too late.
Warnings: The battle in episode 8, violence, murder, injuries, alcohol, Alastor as a warning in itself, Rosie being Rosie,
Author note: Hi hi! Thanks so much for the request!!! I don't write romantic relationships for Alastor, but I loved this idea so I hope a QPR is okay! The title is from "Whispers of Your Brother's Blood" btw. This was tons of fun to write and it kinda got away from me but hopefully it's okay.
Part 2 with a reunion coming soon!
Meeting Alastor was likely the best thing that happened in your entire life, including your time on Earth and in hell.
You weren't stupid. You knew how Alastor treated people, hell, how he used to treat you, and yet, somewhere along the way he showed you more kindness than anyone else.
You met through Rosie, which was likely the best way to come face-to-face with the radio demon.
Rosie found you when you first arrived in hell, and despite very obviously considering eating you, she saw potential of some sort. Perhaps it was your steady gaze or the way you gripped the broken glass in your bloody hand like a knife, but she took you in and showed you life in hell, even if you didn't share her... dietary choices.
When Alastor came for their weekly gossip session meeting, she introduced you two. At first, he seemed to disregard you. You didn't mind.
You did your best work behind the scenes anyhow.
Alastor mentioned a man from the Weapons District who had been speaking badly of Rosie, laughing that he was practically volunteering to be a guest on his broadcast. You could hear the static in his voice from your spot in an armchair across the room. He wasn't joking.
Which meant you had to act first.
Later that night, you bid farewell to Rosie with a smile, claiming you had errands to run, which to be fair, wasn't entirely untrue.
The man was easy to find thanks to Alastor's description. He reeked of cheap booze and tobacco, already drunk in the bar you tracked him to.
Sliding up to him with promises of "a good time" and more booze, he stumbled out of the bar after you, straight into the back alley.
He was dead within 10 minutes. A mugging gone wrong, they'd say.
How tragic.
During the next meeting between Alastor and Rosie, Alastor invited you to sit with them, much to Rosie's delight. And if his smile seemed a bit too knowing and he made a few jokes about drunks in dark alleys? Well, that could stay between the two of you.
And that's where it started.
Every visit, regardless of what you were doing, Alastor would ask if you'd like to join them. You three would chat over tea, sharing gossip and talking shit. You couldn't tell if he genuinely enjoyed your company or if he just found you entertaining, though you suspected those two things weren't too different with Alastor.
And when someone was a bit too careless with their opinion about Alastor in the bar you frequented one night? The radio demon didn't need to make an appearance, you would destroy that scum yourself-
The next day, Alastor paid you a visit personally.
In the parlour, he expressed an interest in your... skillset, laughing about how you worked in the darkness.
He offered you a deal for your soul.
Whatever care he had developed for you likely saved your life when you refused.
"Partners or nothing," you had offered. When his grin sharpened, you knew he was intrigued.
He was the flashy showman, broadcasting the screams of overlords and inspiring fear across all of hell.
And you?
You were the shadow on the wall, charming those who would be too stubborn or too afraid to usually talk, convincing them to give away the information you needed to build your empire further.
Those who knew of your existence understood the consequences of speaking out. The radio demon didn't take well to those who threatened you.
In a dangerously comforting way, it all felt far too close to your life on earth. Sure, you weren't killing nearly as much back then, but flirting for information, gathering secrets and destroying those who opposed you or those close to you?
Yeah, that was familiar.
Your brother would be proud, you thought.
Or maybe he'd be just as unappreciative as he was in life.
Half a decade at Alastor's side, the two of you taking the phrase "partners in crime" very literally.
As a show of trust, he once allowed you to help with a broadcast, as long as you promised to keep quiet. Admittedly, he quickly discovered your... less-than-ideal skills with technology, but you appreciated the thought nonetheless.
You relied on one another. You leaned on him and he would lean back.
And then he disappeared.
No goodbye, no warning at all, not even a body.
Just... gone.
After five years, you moved into an apartment in Cannibal Town, further isolating yourself. Finding work wasn't difficult, but you refused to use your skills for just anyone, and there were few people you trusted more than Rosie.
You arrived late one night, two years into working with Rosie. Setting the keys down on the counter, the dull buzz of static spread through the room.
Alastor was holding you before you even hit the ground, legs giving out in relief.
And yes, he wasn't the most physically affectionate demon, but for you?
For you, he could make an exception.
The hotel could wait until tomorrow. Tonight, he had apologies to make and a partner to comfort.
The next day, after Alastor pitched his ideal to the princess of hell, he brought in Niffty, Husk and you as help, and if everyone thought you were a soul under his command, well, it was easier that way.
However much you didn't want to admit it, you grew to care for everyone. Losing at cards with Husk, cooking lessons with Angel, sparing with Vaggie, watching musicals with Charlie, crafts with Niffty, failing at inventing with Sir Pentious...
And doing absolutely everything with Alastor. After his reappearance, you were reluctant to let him out of your sight, and the radio demon was all too willing to keep you close, even if Husk seemed concerned over it.
Which was probably why when Alastor tried to get you to leave during the night before the battle, you refused.
You could tell his desperation to keep you safe drive you out of the hotel by the static in his voice, his subtle requests turning to false threats and finally a plea that neither of you would admit to leaving his mouth.
"I'm a lot of terrible things, Alastor, but I am not disloyal. I will stand tomorrow with you and everyone else. You're not leaving me again."
And for the first time that you've met him, he lets it go. No further bargaining or attempts to trap you, just a sigh and "Whatever you want, my dear," with a tighter smile than usual.
The next day, everything goes to shit.
Alastor and Adam are fighting, with Alastor firmly kicking his ass.
Then Sir General Pentious yells to unjam a cannon near you, and while pushing random buttons and gesturing angrily, you scream, "I don't know how to use this shit!"
You don't see the VoxTech drone nearby recording everything for the Vee's future entertainment.
With your back turned, you cry out at the feeling of a spear slicing across your back.
The pain of the blow sends you stumbling forward into the side of the cannon, causing it to finally go off, turning the angel behind you into pieces.
The force behind the machine sent you crashing into the wall of the hotel next to Angel, who turned to you in shock.
At the sound of your pain, Alastor's focus breaks for only a second.
It's enough for Adam to gain the upper hand, breaking his staff in two and sending him to the ground.
As he fades into the shadows, he focuses on your energy signature and pulls you into the darkness alongside him.
Across hell, at the top of V Tower, Vox swore wildly at the screen.
What a fucking coward!
Alastor running away to die off camera had to be the biggest disappointment in his entire afterlife.
Scratch that, second biggest disappointment. Still a pretty big bummer though.
Saving the other views of the battle for later inspection, he and the other Vee's watched as Lucifer slammed Adam into the dirt in delight.
It was 3 hours after the extermination was cancelled that he found the footage of you and the cannon. Of you hitting the wall and disappearing, but you're not dead, you can't be dead oh please not again-
How long have you been in hell? He assumed that you had been killed permanently before he arrived in hell after you, or maybe you'd even been sent to heaven, despite your sins. If anyone deserved to be forgiven, it was you.
But no, no no- You'd been here, the whole time, in that stupid hotel with fucking Alastor-
Vox's fans speed up in an attempt to keep his whole system from crashing.
Your appearance had changed, sure, but he would recognize the sight of you cussing out technology anywhere.
He would recognize his little sister anywhere, even in death.
This was all his fault.
You and Vox grew up close. Always the two of you, there could be no one else, the sheltering of your parents ensured that.
Over time, Vox's mastery of technology grew, and so did his influence. When he needed someone he could trust to keep things clean and running in the background, you were the obvious choice.
He took you for granted, Vox knew that now. You had argued about something stupid before a job one night, he couldn't even remember what he said, only that he went too far. When you left to go do some "clean up" for a previous situation, he resolved to properly apologize for once when you got home. And to say thank you. He wouldn't forget this time.
But you never came back.
You were found shot dead in an alleyway by a couple of employees from a nearby bar later that night.
Did Vox send you on a job that was too much for you? Were you distracted from the argument?
Either way, it was his fault you were dead. His fault the one person he loved, his baby sister, lay in a casket.
It didn't take long for him to get put into the ground himself.
Arriving in hell felt like a second chance. He would find you and everything would be alright again.
And yet, you were nowhere to be seen.
The drones around the hotel (or what was left of it) circled, scanning for a sign that you were there. That his ignorance hadn't killed you for a second time.
On the screens, the clean-up of the rubble continued.
Vox twitched.
Vox hadn't prayed since he was a child in the front pews of the neighbourhood church. Back when purity was still an option and repentance was unnecessary.
Now, he didn't know who he was pleading to. Does God listen when demons pray?
Please. Please, let her live. Let Alastor have saved her. Let me make this right.
Please.
395 notes · View notes