This blog contains nsfw content. Minors, please do not interact with anything 18+. Please read all labels and warnings on the following content prior to your consumption.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
pairing: dark!theodore nott x fem!reader x dark!mattheo riddle. (mattheo makes his appearance in pt2)
warnings: smut 18+, dubcon, breaking and entering, violence, blood, knives (cutting into skin), rough oral sex (m. receiving), mask kink, mentions of murder, swearing
word count: 4k
summary: purge night— a night you’ve feared all year despite coming from a rich and powerful family. but when six masked men show up at your door, are you really as safe as you thought?
PART 2. the purge au… moodboard
“This is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System. Announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the Government. Weapons of class four and lower have been authorised for use during the purge; all other weapons are restricted. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime (including murder) will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7:00 a.m, when the purge concludes. Blessed be our new founding fathers—”
“Blah, blah, blah… we get it. Same shit every year.” Pansy sighed dramatically through the phone, her tone dripping with annoyance. You could tell she was rolling her eyes, and you didn’t need to see her to know she was slouched lazily somewhere.
Not much later, the ominous, bone-chilling sirens blared violently through the entire city, blasting through the walls and echoing in the still-empty streets. The all so familiar sound never failed to give you goosebumps all over your stiffened body, instantly raising your heartbeat. You briefly closed your eyes, trying to steady your racing heart as you struggled to control your shaky breathing.
“Hellooo? Are you still there or have you been murdered already?” Pansy joked with a taunting laugh. Your eyes snapped open, her static-filled voice dragging you back to reality, and her humorous tone nearly making you forget the reality of this cruel night.
Because it wasn’t just any regular night— it was Purge Night. The one night you’d been dreading all year, every year, in which all crime becomes legal for twelve long hours. Logically, you were well aware that you had nothing to fear. Your parents were successful entrepreneurs with plenty of money to afford the most advanced security equipment, keeping you safe from any outside danger.
Yes, to protect you, and only you. Not them— they were out at a purge party, the details of which you didn’t even want to know, shamelessly networking with other high-profile elites while the poor were brutally murdered in the streets surrounding them. Everything about this night gave you a sickening feeling in your stomach. But of course, you knew it would be fine. All you had to do was survive— survive in your mansion, surrounded by unbreachable security. Nothing was going to happen.
“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” you responded, your voice tinged with irritation as you hurried from your bedroom down the wooden stairs to the security room, figuring that if you could check the cameras around the house, it might calm you down a bit. You couldn’t shake the feeling of needing to tiptoe carefully down each step, as though someone might hear you— which was ridiculous, considering how large and heavily secured the house was.
The eerily quiet house was broken by the first distant, chilling screams of pure terror from outside, making you grimace as you opened the creaky door to the small room, your eyes instantly squinting at the many bright screens that made your eyes burn.
“It’s just… I hope this night will be over soon, that’s all.” you continued, one hand holding the phone close to your ear while your eyes fleetingly scanned over the security cameras, which were strategically placed to cover every corner outside the house.
“Oh please, don’t be such a scaredy-cat! Every year it goes just fine, so this year will be no different. When has anything…” Pansy chattered in her usual attempt to comfort you, completely unaware that her words were only doing the opposite, when her voice slowly faded away into the background and your eyes narrowed at one of the top-right screens, which was focused on your front door. What the fuck?
With your heart nearly pounding out of your chest and your hand shakily gripping the phone, you inched closer to the screen, moving as slowly as possible, almost as if the slowness would somehow alter the nightmare playing out before you. A sudden coldness washed over you, your eyes rapidly blinking. No, no, no… this can’t be happening.
On the pixelated, dark screen, you saw six masked men standing in front of your door, their heads tilted as they stared right at the cameras. You felt lightheaded, your left hand reaching up to lightly clasp your throat, the panic threatening to overwhelm you once you noticed the various weapons they were holding— baseball bats, knives, axes, and god knows what else.
“P—pansy… I, uh… there are people standing in front of my door…” you stammered shakily, still staring at the screen, your body frozen in place with your hand gripping the phone so tightly that your knuckles turned white and your breathing became ragged and uneven.
“Oh, they’re probably just trying to scare you, babe. I mean, come on, they can’t even come in for fuck’s sake!” she let out a mocking laugh as the chaotic thoughts in your head raced a hundred miles an hour, leaving you paralysed with uncertainty.
“Pansy, what the fu— you know what? Forget it.” you snapped, your trembling fingers tapping frantically at the screen before finally ending the call, frustrated at not being taken seriously by your best friend— though, to be fair, when had she ever?
You hastily slipped your phone into your back pocket, already dreading the snarky text she was sure to send you for ending the call, before shifting your attention back to the screen. One of the men removed his mask, prompting you to move even closer with narrowed eyes, your forehead nearly touching the cold glass.
“Good evening.” he called out in a stoic, chilling voice, his shiny black hair neatly styled, and his stance tall, commanding and unmistakably intimidating.
“Sorry to bother you at this ungodly hour, but let me kindly introduce myself. My name is Tom, and these guys— they are my friends.” The scene you were intently staring at filled you with pure terror— this unknown man named Tom, surrounded by men in masks, each carrying weapons that could easily kill you, weapons that were already completely soaked in blood, the dark droplets dripping ominously onto your front porch.
“This can go one of two ways; you simply let us in, and we will steal— sorry, I mean take whatever we desire, and then, we leave! Or… we can do this the hard way. But I can assure you, you will not survive the latter.” His tone was almost amused as he finished speaking, and through the grainy pixels, you could see a controlled, sinister smile spreading across his pale face.
“Do not think you are invincible. We can enter any home we want. And we will want, as wanting is our will on this fine purge night. Do not force us to hurt you.”
His menacing words sent tingles across your skin, all the muscles in your body tightening. And for a good ten minutes, they did nothing but stand there, staring straight into the camera, waiting—expecting—for you to open the door for them.
It was a chilling sight. Almost as if you were staring at a photograph, the men stood completely still, their blood-covered hands tightly gripping their equally blood-soaked weapons, knowing your blood would be next to splatter across them, mixing with that of other poor, helpless victims.
When they realised you weren’t going to open the door, Tom gave his men a quick signal, waving his finger in the air, which caused you to cock your head in both curiosity and unease.
“Alright then.” He said, the sinister smile on his face growing wider. But it was fine. You knew they couldn’t come inside anyway. Your house was so securely protected, there was no way they could come in and— Is that a fucking blowtorch?
“Yes, we are prepared. And you— oh, you chose the wrong option.” Tom coldly stated as if he could read your mind, dragging the words in a chilling tone. Two of his men quickly got to work, the blowtorch slowly cutting through the thick metal doors, meanwhile, Tom continued to stare directly at the camera, his evil, dark smile never faltering, his soulless eyes not blinking once.
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” This was when real panic set in, your eyes flickering with pure terror as you slowly backed away from the screens, gripping whatever furniture was nearby to steady yourself. You hurried out of the room, realising this was the time to hide.
Quickly but silently running up the stairs again, you heard the agonising sound of the blowtorch cutting through the metal, sending shivers all over your body and urging you to move faster.
You burst into your room, breathless, slamming the door behind you and you panickedly scanned the small space, frantically searching for the best hiding spot. There weren’t many options, but the closet seemed like your only chance, so without hesitation, you flung the door open, stepped inside, and crouched down, wrapping your trembling arms tightly around your knees.
“It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine.” You kept repeating to yourself in a quiet, trembling voice, desperately trying to gaslight yourself into believing it. But who the fuck are you kidding? They were inevitably coming in, and then… well, you didn’t even want to think about it.
You gasped loudly at the sudden sound of a loud bang, followed by distant voices and approaching footsteps downstairs. Nibbling on your bottom lip and one hand clutching your throat, you struggled to calm your ragged breathing, but hoping to make out the conversation happening downstairs— although you weren’t even sure if you wanted to hear it in the first place.
“We are coming, aha! And we will find you, you little fucking bitch” an unfamiliar voice taunted from down the stairs followed by a menacing laugh, clearly relishing the undeniable fear they were instilling in you as the footsteps and faint chatter grew louder with every passing second.
“Mattheo, control yourself. Search for the girl downstairs, and Theo, you check upstairs. The rest of us will take whatever is valuable and leave for the next house.” You heared Tom instruct two of his men, his voice stern and cold, before adding, “Oh, and whatever you do, make it as painful as possible. I want her to suffer.”
Goosebumps covered your entire body hearing the chilling words, and you could tell that these guys didn’t fuck around. Everything about them was incredibly organised and prepared. This wasn’t their first time purging. No, they knew exactly what they were doing.
Heavy, resolute footsteps then made their way up the stairs, each deep step resonating through the house, making the silence feel like it was closing it. Theo. There was no way out of this. The only thing you could do was pray that he wouldn’t find you. But deep down, you knew he would.
“You can’t hide from me, piccola.” a deep, husky voice teased, his voice slightly muffled by the mask he wore. It surprised you to hear a foreign accent— Italian, you guessed. And fuck, you could punch yourself in the face right now for finding it… hot.
The steps grew louder, tantalisingly slow, until his footsteps reached your room. Your hand flew to your mouth to keep yourself quiet, your brows furrowed as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on steadying your breath. Your heart beat out of your chest, and you worried it was beating loud enough for him to hear.
Then it was quiet. No sounds. You swallowed, your mouth feeling dry with tears brimming at your waterline, and you gasped when you suddenly heard his voice so close to you. Thank fucking god you still had your mouth covered.
“You’re here, aren’t you?” He said in a dark, knowing manner, and the only thing you could do at this very moment was repeat ‘please don’t find me’ in your head while only hoping your death would be less painful than Tom had ordered it to be. “I know you are...”
The closet door then abruptly swung open, causing you to let out a loud, surprised gasp. The tears you had so desperately tried to suppress now uncontrollably streamed down your cheeks as your head shot up. Soft ‘no’s slipped from your lips when he grabbed you by the arm and aggressively pulled you out of the closet, the words barely audible and you panickedly shook your head, feeling lightheaded due to pure fear.
“Shut up, cazzo.” he muttered irritably as he threw you on your bed with exasperated aggression. And you immediately complied— not only because he asked you to, but because you didn’t want Matthew to hear you, knowing that Theo had found you, worried of what he might do to you. Matthew… Was his name even Matthew?
He stood still before you, and for the first time, you took him in, scanning him from head to toe as his imposing, tall frame loomed over you, casting a shadow over where you sat on the bed.
A white mask fully covered his face, and in his right hand, he held a bloody, sharp knife, causing you to gulp in fear. Oh, he looked fucking terrifying— but there was something else, something other than fear deep inside of you. A feeling you desperately tried to suppress. A feeling you felt ashamed to feel. A feeling you could not bring yourself to admit.
“Huh.” he commented, his head tilting slightly to the left. “Tom didn’t tell me you were such a pretty little thing.” he reached his hand out, his thumb brushing over your cheek, causing you to instinctively pull away, stiffening under his touch.
“Così carina.” he chuckled mockingly, and your eyes were drawn to his hand that was expertly spinning the knife. His other hand then abruptly gripped your hair, making you gasp, and he slightly tilted your head to expose your neck.
From your peripheral vision, you could see the bloody knife drawing closer to your neck, making you instantly shut your eyes with furrowed brows, knowing this was it.
“Can’t wait to see these white sheets turn red.” Theo taunted, but you were shaking, crying and nervously biting down on your lip so hard that blood welled up, waiting for the moment you finally felt the sharp knife against your delicate skin.
And then you did. You felt the cold blade lightly dig into the skin of your neck, the sharp, stinging sensation causing you to tightly grip the sheets, followed by fresh, crimson droplets of blood slowly trickling down your skin— but then he stopped.
“Hm. You know what, bella?” Theo paused for a moment, crouching down to get on eye level with you. The closer he got to you, the faster your heart raced, your whole body heating up with a mix of fear and something else. The deep sense of guilt you felt for feeling… this way gnawed at you from the inside.
“I might just have other plans for you.” Your head snapped toward him, and you hissed at the fresh cut stretching open, your hand instinctively reaching to the wound, carefully dabbing your fingers on the blood still trickling out.
“You wanna live?” He questioned, and you reluctantly nodded, still unable to shake off the feeling of unease, even as a slight sense of relief—or maybe hope— began to grow inside of you.
“Then I advise you to get on your knees before I change my mind.” You blinked rapidly, unsure if you heard him correctly. Surely not.
“I— what?” You stammered, breathing in so fast you nearly choked on air as your heart pounded out of your chest.
“Oh, you heard me.” He rose to his feet, and your eyes intently followed his every movement. The way the moonlight seeped through the blinds illuminated him, and for the first time, you could clearly see his ocean-blue eyes gazing down at you with intense focus— the only feature of his face that was visible through the mask.
He reached the knife out again, causing you to flinch, but this time he pressed it under your chin to lift your head, the pointy end digging into your soft skin.
“You don’t think I noticed?” he began, and you sat frozen, knowing that a single movement would press the knife deep into your skin.
“You don’t think I noticed the way you looked at me with those pretty eyes?” You raised an eyebrow in puzzlement, unsure of what he was hinting at, and you absolutely hated this— the vagueness of his words. You hated having to guess what he meant. It made you anxious.
“I have purged a lot of people, bella. And there is one thing aaall of them have in common— they all have this same, fearful look in their eyes.” he continued, and it made you wonder what he saw in yours.
“But you… cazzo. With you, I see something else sparkling in those pupils.” The way the mask muffled his voice made you unconsciously lean in closer to hear him better, and he did the same, but for an entirely different reason, until you were merely inches apart. It was a strange observation to make in such a moment like this, but oddly enough, he smelt nice, very nice. A pleasant, musky cologne with the undertone of cigarettes filled your senses.
“With you I see… lust, yearning, desperation.” he whispered into your ear, the knife digging deeper into your skin, yet still not deep enough to draw blood. Your eyes shot wide open before locking with his, and you felt caught. He hit the hammer right on the nail.
“Go on, tell me I’m fuckin’ wrong.” but you couldn’t. You couldn’t tell him he was wrong. Because he wasn’t. Your eyes darted nervously around the room, unable to meet those intense, piercing eyes as the ache between your legs only grew stronger.
“Yeah… that’s what I thought. Bet your panties are soaked already, aren’t they?” you heard a muffled, condescending chuckle coming from under his mask as he slowly twisted the knife under your chin. You so desperately wanted to bite back, to defend yourself, to tell him that he was being ridiculous— but the words were stuck in your throat.
“So… back to where we were.” he growled as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down, suddenly remembering Matthew wandering around downstairs and being able to walk in at any time, causing him to rush.
“C’mon sweetheart. I need to feel those pretty lips wrapped around me if you want to live, a’ight? If Mattheo finds us, it’s over for you.” Ohhhh, Mattheo… right, right.
You hesitantly walked over to him before getting on your knees right in front of him— right in front of his already hard erection trapped in his boxers, desperately wanting to escape as the tip formed a wet patch of precum on the fabric.
“Well… you know I could just kick you in the balls right now and run away?” There it finally was— the words that had been stuck in your throat, and the boldness inside of you that had finally come free. It was that unexpectedly tender demeanour of his emerging in brief moments, causing you to see him in a humane light, which stilled your fears.
He scoffed before aggressively gripping your hair and pulling your head back, causing you to hiss at the fresh wound on your neck stinging at the movement. He drew closer to you before suddenly holding the knife to your throat again, the softness you’d glimpsed earlier vanishing in an instant.
“Oh yeah? You don’t think I’m gonna find you and cut you open? Go for it. Give it a try. Let’s see how that ends.” he warned in a low, menacing tone, your brows furrowing as you clenched your teeth, staring right into his narrowed eyes.
“Acting as if you aren’t practically begging to suck me off right now, tsk. Hurry the fuck up.” he ordered in a harsh tone, abruptly letting go of your hair and retracting the knife from your throat.
Realising you had no other choice but to follow his orders, you stared up at his masked face, before your gaze fell on his boxers. You could tell he was big just from the imprint through the thin fabric— oh, there was no doubt in that. Reluctantly, you drew your head closer to his crotch, teasingly using your teeth to pull the waistband of his boxers down before slowly sliding them off.
“See, I knew you were a fucking slut.” he growled, his amusement evident as his erection sprang free against his toned abs, precum glistening at the tip. Oh, well fuck. He was indeed huge, causing your eyes to widen momentarily as you swallowed hard. You glanced back up at him one more time, and he gave you a sharp nod, his hand on the back of your head pressing insistently, urging you closer.
Your head slowly inched closer to his intimidatingly large cock, and you started with placing soft kitten licks on the tip, tasting the salty precum, when suddenly a mischievous smile began to curve your glossed lips. In one swift, unexpected motion, you wrapped your mouth around his throbbing length, firmly pressing your teeth into the skin while at the same time your hand darted to his balls, your sharp nails digging deep into the sensitive flesh.
“That fuckin’ hurts, you bitch. Cazzo!” Theo cursed, aggressively pushing you back until you hit the bed, yet the same mischievous smile on your face only widened. It confused him how the terrified, weak girl he saw earlier had transformed into… this.
“Didn’t expect you to be such a fucking pussy.” you challenged him, fire burning in your eyes. Not because you wanted to die, but because deep down you knew you weren’t going to. If he wanted to kill you, he would’ve done that already. With the precum leaking from his painfully hard erection right in front of you, you knew the only thing on his mind was finding his release. He was a man after all— simple, driven by his desires.
“You better shut that little mouth—”
“Or what? You're gonna threaten me again with that stupid little knife—” before you could even finish your sentence, he grabbed you by the hair, yanking you roughly towards him, his cock forcing its way into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat instantly, triggering your gag reflex as you struggled to breathe around his thick, aching erection. He quickly set a brutal rhythm, bucking his hips aggressively into your mouth, and you felt your eyes well with tears, saliva running down your chin.
“If you stop, I’ll make you fucking regret it.” His hand gripped your hair in a tight ponytail, pulling you to meet his thrusts as he relentlessly fucked your mouth. Gagging sounds filled the room as he forced your head down as far as possible, groaning at the sight beneath him— a sight that could so easily make him come already.
“You wanted this from the start, huh? Such a pathetic—” Theo’s sentence was then abruptly cut off when the door suddenly swung open and slammed against the wall, causing you both to freeze and stare, wide-eyed and horrified. A chill ran down your spine as you noticed another masked man standing in the doorway, holding a blood-soaked baseball bat while casually leaning against the doorframe. Oh no.
“Well, well, well… look what we have here. You really thought I wouldn’t find out, Theodore? How cute.”
Mattheo.
PART 2.
reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡
a/n: thank you sm for reading ^_^!!!!!!! this was supposed to be one long fic but i decided to cut in into two (or maybe more if needed) parts! im not sure when the next part will be posted but ill try to work on it soon !!! <3
Debating dating a guy for a day exclusively for a neck massage and to go through his phone just because my neck hurts and I want to know everyone's business. Real or real?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Summery: You and Azriel are having sex when suddenly it all gets too much for you. He gives you aftercare and talks you through it until the tears stop and you tell him whats really bothering you.
Warnings: Oral[F! receiving], Fingering, Praise, Aftercare, Improper usage of Azriel's shadows, Overstimulation, SubSpace, Dom Az x Bottom Reader
Word Count: 2k
Explicit Content Below cut- I'm not in charge of your consumption of content.
“Come on baby one more f’me” Azriel’s gruff voice said above me. Currently he was between my legs, curling his long scarred fingers deep inside me. I gasped, throwing my head back once again and squeezing my eyes shut as his thumb rubbed my swollen clit again. I strained mm sound escaping me as I squirmed beneath him.
"Can't s’too much..” I whined trying to squeeze my thighs shut. A dark chuckle sounded from between my legs.
“You can. You will.” He said in that tone that had zero room for argument. Then- “ You’re my good girl aren’t you sweetheart?” He coo’ed to me and i was a goner. I went pliant, again, under him and nodded. He softly shh’d me and pushed my legs apart gently.
“That's right…good girl…” He murmured and kissed my thigh before diving back in and flicking my clit with cruel precision. At the same time he resumed curling his fingers deep inside me. He pulled them out to bury them back in with a wet squelsh he chuckled at. Almost mockingly so, I would've scowled at the surely smug expression, if he didn’t pick that exact moment to start furiously curling his fingers, keeping them buried deep inside me. I gasped and I went to reach for him, but his shadows lashed out with a vengeance. Coiling around my wrists and binding me tightly back onto his ivory silk sheets. My hair spread out around me like branches.
“I’m gonna cum” I gasped out quickly– in an almost feverish manner. He just flicked his tongue quicker, speeding up his fingers inside me. I sucked in a breath, raising my head to look down at him. When those dark amber pools met my eyes my jaw fell open and a silent scream escaped me. I threw my head back into the silky and velvet pillows once again, letting out tiny moans and whines as he worked me through my high. Slowing his movements as I twitched under him. He now listlessly thrusted his fingers in and out of me, kissing my overstimulated bud. His monotonous movements welcomed after he’d pushed me to the edge again and again. Then slowly, he pulled his fingers out. Kissing my mound aimlessly once, making me tense at the sensations. I hadn’t even realized his shadows had let me go, until one gently grazed my cheek. I leaned into it on reflex, the coolness of it soothing me. My eyes remained shut lazily now. Lounging in his bed of light silks and dark velvets like a pampered queen.
“Did such a good job baby…” He kissed his way up my abdomen. It sounded almost far away with how far he’d pushed me tonight. I let out a quiet hum in response. Then I felt his hands on my face. His cool shadows now caressing my thighs and stomach. One over my overheated core, I tried to squeeze my thighs together in reflex, but his hips between them stopped me. The shadows cooled instead of aroused. I remained with my eyes closed, nuzzling into his hand. I could only ever be like this with only him. Unaware, pliant, so vulnerable. It was almost degrading even if his words were kind. The kind of degradation that only existed because of my shame. The way I submitted to him so easily…under some sweet praise like a sick puppy.
I opened my eyes slowly, not noticing the way I had a little pout on my lips. I looked lost. He was leaning over me, but his expression cracked as I opened my eyes.
“Oh honey…” He muttered and cupped my cheeks with both his hands. His thumbs soothed over either side of my face, catching a stray tear. I was crying? I didn’t know why I was crying. I wasn’t sad. I just…felt so little like this. So safe here with him. The tears came so naturally. More naturally than they ever have. A heartbroken expression took over his face as he gently slipped his arm under my shoulders. Lifting my upper body up as he moved from between my thighs to lay onto his back. He carefully draped my upper body on top of him, pulling the silk sheets and velvet duvet back over us. He tenderly took my cheek in his hands again and moved forward to kiss a tear.
“Why are you crying, hm? Did I push you too hard?” He said softly. Like this he was just Az. Not the man who dominated me in every way in bed. He was the one I teased and joked with. The one who would hold me even when I pushed him away. Who understood that I was wounded like him. Understood sometimes when I push the hardest is when I need him the most. But I wasn't pushing now. No, I was looking at him crying silently. Crying during sex wasn’t unusual for us. It was never because he was hurting me, that was something we never explored or enjoyed. Usually because he’d pushed me to the brink of failure again and again. Until the tears of overstimulation would happen. Occasionally, it was because he would push my head down a little too deeply and hold it there for a moment until a fresh tear sported on my lower lashes. Then he would release me and his thumb would swipe it away.
But tears after sex meant something else. I wasn’t sure what or why. I just felt so vulnerable like this. So exposed and seen, and used and loved all the same. He’d done nothing wrong at all, he’d made me cum 5 times within an hour. Spent his night worshipping me, and I was crying? I turned away from him. Wiping a tear away hastily with a slightly shaky hand.
“No...no none of that…” He said softly, turning my face back to look at him again. He truly looked devastated, a concerned look in his eyes and that frequent furrow between his brows making an appearance yet again. “Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it baby…don’t ever want to make you cry. Not like this…” He said quietly, his thumb swiping away another silent stray tear. I swallowed and looked up at him.
I was like him, I supposed. Quiet, reserved. Only in his arms could I ever be like this. Could I bask in his warmth and share his glory, chanting his name like a forgotten god only my tongue knew.
“I just…” I sighed out and shook my head slightly. I couldn’t find the words. What did I feel? Why was I crying? “It wasn’t you– you were perfect. You always are…” I said quietly. I watched his features relax slightly, but the concern was still there. He gently leaned forward and kissed my forehead.
“Talk to me sweetheart…you know I've got you.” He murmured against my head. Choosing to tuck my cheek against his chest and run his fingers through my hair. I wasn’t very good at eye contact. It was something I'd forced myself to work on, with him. It felt so intimate and real…like if they’d look too long they’d start to form an opinion about me. So, instead, I looked outside the open french doors to the veranda. I watched the stars and let them turn me into a poet once again.
“I don’t know why I’m crying…” I furrowed my brows as if perplexed myself. I continued looking out to the stars while he stroked my hair.
“I think maybe I just feel so safe with you… I don’t feel sad or anything but happy. I just feel…vulnerable.” I said quietly into the night. He kissed my hair and rubbed his hand up and down my waist soothingly.
“Was it too much?” He asked quietly, gently squeezing my hip before running his hand back up my side and back down again slowly. “No…it wasn’t even that. I just…felt so pathetic for a moment. So little compared to you..” My words got quieter the more I spoke. As if I was revealing a secret to him about myself. As I often did.
“Is that it? You think I see you as anything else than a fucking goddess?” He cursed but it was soft. It was loving the way he stroked my hair, nuzzling into it as if finding comfort himself in the scent of my hair oils. I smiled slightly at his compliment, kissing his chest gently.
“No…I know you love me. I just mean others maybe…” I said softly and he paused.
“Others? They don’t get to have an opinion on us.” His tone was quiet, but sternness had crept up into it again. “You’re mine. I love you. You will do great things and I will help you get there.” He said slightly more soothing this time. Brushing my hair back from my cheek and leaning forward to kiss my forehead once again. His lips finding a home there for the evening.
“You don’t think I'm…below you? You’re this decorated warrior…and I'm just…a silly bartender.” I quietly admitted my insecurities. Hesitating as if he wasn’t aware of the fact in the first place. He paused his movements stroking my hair, but he didn’t tilt my head to face him. He just watched me.
“You think…” He trailed off, making me lift my head slightly to look up at him. His brows were furrowed and that heartbroken expression was pooling into his eyes once again. As my gaze connected with his, he gently cupped my jaw.
“In every world…there is us. Is that not enough for you, my love?” He said quietly but his thumb stroking my jaw was quite distracting. I paused before answering. Of course it was enough, it always was. Maybe it was me that wasn’t. Before I could respond, his arms had engulfed me once again. I was gently manhandled to be on my stomach so he could look at me. My elbow held me up as he brushed my hair behind my ears.
“I don’t care if all you do is shovel shit for work. Hell…i dont care if you dont work- but I know, for you that’d never be an option.” A small smile graced his too perfect lips. The little scar through his upper lip highlighted by the moonlight, as if fate had weaved itself into the blade, so I could admire it like this.
“But…if you want more I can help you…anything baby, I’d do anything to make you happy.” He said in that same quiet but utterly devoted tone of his that had me undone at hello and begging by goodbye. The sincerity in his tone never failed to flatline me entirely. Maybe I had surrounded myself with all of the wrong people before him, but I found myself thinking, no one had ever been able to make me believe their reassurances. No kind words, whispered so soft, had ever made me melt or stop my racing mind. It wasn’t a love confession, it was truth.
“I…I wanted to be a writer.” I whispered, my hand reaching out to trace that familiar scar. Sometimes I worry I had written him into my own existence. Written every scar and memory so that someday someone somewhere would understand me in my entirety. But if I was his writer, I don’t think I'd have the heart to put him through what he’d need to experience just to understand me. It seems someone wrote it anyway. So that we’d always have each other. My mate.
Azriel’s face softened slightly, letting me trace the moonlit scars on his lips and jaw. Tilting his head slightly as I trailed my hand down to his neck to the heavier scar there. I traced that one too.
“Then write.” It came quietly, but my eyes flicked up to his. I tilted my head slightly. “Would you read it?” I asked quietly. I was just humoring myself, of course he would read it. His lips turned up slightly, and his thumb brushed along my own neck as my hand laid flat against his collarbone.
“Every word.” He said with such quiet conviction, I found myself speechless once again. He leaned forward and softly kissed me then. I smiled and kissed back slowly, there was no rush in moments like these.
//Masterlist//
A/N: This one's sappy- I wrote this months ago and forgot about it lol.
Hello again! Could I please do a fluff and nsfw for the ACOTAR boys (Tamlin, Lucien, Eris, Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Tarquin, Kallias, Helion, Thesan, and Jurian) this time? Tamlin especially is my favorite. 🤭 Thank you again! Your Crescent City one was so good! 💕
A Court Of Thorns And Roses Boys as Boyfriends/Husbands.
A/N: Sorry this took so long to make, I was honestly in a writing slump for so long😅. I did not write NSFW HC'S IM SORRY!!!!! I'm planning on writing more for the ACOTAR characters. Not sure when- but the books 6&7 are coming out this October-december so will definitely be re-reading soon and waiting to write about them!!! If you want I'll be happy to tag you in any ACOTAR/CC content I make- just comment and let me know! I'll make a CC/ACOTAR/Any fantasy book I write about tallest for you and anyone else who ends up enjoying them!! I'm still open to requests ofc- some just might take me a little longer. I plan to still write a NSFW list for some of these. I might do it separately. EX: a Rhysand/whoever NSFW alphabet. I also did not include two characters [Thesan and Killias] just because I don't know enough about them. I'm sorry luv I just have like nothing to go off of for those two.
Rhysand:
RHYSAND IS ALLOWED TO HAVE A MALE PODCAST. RHYSAND IS ALLOWED TO HAVE A MALE PODCAST. GET HIM IN THERE NOW. Rhysand would be charming undoubtedly, yet respectful of course. I don’t know how he’d do the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing considering he seems to have two stages: Hookup or wifed. He’d be very charming at first, always holding open the door for you, complementing you, making sure you’re comfortable and spoiled. His love language, in my humble opinion, would be gift giving. I don’t think this is because he’s bad with his words or lacking in any way, Rhysand has set the expectations for men in this generation higher than god. I just see him as someone who spoils their s/o to the point of annoying. He’d always plan extravagant dates and make sure you have the prettiest dresses to go along with it. You’d be his queen, his high lady, his everything. His inspiration to be good, to show the world who he is. Rhysand likes girls who know what they want and aren’t afraid to take the lead. Except- one thing I’ve noticed re-reading ACOTAR books is that he’s always in control regardless. Rhysand will let you call the shots, play the god, but he is behind you calculating, reading, waiting. Like a tiger in a bush he is waiting for the chance someone slips up and claims your presence insignificant. I fucking love Rhysand. He’s the best one- he’s literally the perfect man. I saw this quote and it immediately reminded me of Feyre and Rhysand. “The woman is the sword while the man is the shield." Yes. He is your shield not your knight. **ALSO** be ready to go fight for your OWN wedding ring in the weavers cottage LMAO.
Azriel:
Oh Az…
He just wants to be loved, but he doesn’t know how to love. It’s not that he’s cruel or mean, it’s that his perception of it is so tainted he might hurt you doing something he considers normal. He means no harm, but for an overly sensitive AND shy girl, he’d be a nightmare. Not because he wouldn’t hold you through it and kiss your tears away and call you pretty like his own bright flower he waters. He’d be this way because he feels there's certain guidelines to follow or a timeline in his head that makes sense. He is originally incapable of existing in the moment with you…until you break. Until his distance is so unbearable and frustrations so misunderstood you break down. He realizes then that holding you at arms length is only hurting you. As you get more comfortable together, he’d treasure you. He’d go to ANY length to keep you safe, any. He differs from Rhysand and Cassian in this way. While they are a strength by your side, I believe Az would feel an insatiable need to protect you. Which is sweet…until you catch his shadows following you around the streets like dogs. He’d keep you a sweet and tucked in secret at first, he wants you all to himself. His to spoil and visit, his to hold and protect. Above all- you are his. Prime example of why male podcasts should be banned. Look at Az- if he had one he’d be unbearable and I’d hate him. I mean- that bonus chapter in A Court Of Silver Flames?[POSTED HERE IF NEEDED]. He’s good because he’s quiet. His actions are okay because he doesn’t explain them. He’d be good with a stubborn sensitive girl. He’d let you win the fights, but protect you silently without asking permission.
Cassian:
CASSIAN MY LOVE UGH- He’d be so goofy. I love him. Always brings the energy and vibes no matter where you two are going. He’s fiercely in love with you and absolutely has zero issue showing it to the world and everyone in it. Always making you laugh until your stomach hurts, taking you out and around his friends, he loves to show you off. I see him as someone just so utterly proud of their partner just for existing, he truly thinks you shit rainbows. Such a love bug, he’s quite sensitive actually. He’s not a pussy- I mean he’s not going to break down and cry or anything, he is a warrior that likes to think he’s tough afterall. But silently he’s overthinking in his head how you said you’re too tired to go out tonight or how you tease him. It’s not that he needs reassurance, he just needs someone to stay, to love him, to choose him and make it known undoubtedly that he is yours. He wants someone to own him. Not in a submissive way, but in the way a dog would. He just wants you to choose him again and again. Make you laugh forever like a jester trying to convince the queen he’s funny enough to keep around. Just pick him, love him, be with him always. Let him be the moon orbiting you. He is a very generous partner and wants to share almost every piece of his life with you. He wants you to love his friends and have a relationship with them. He doesn’t push for that, but he will push you. He wants to see you become the best version of yourself and push your limits. Definitely will get you working out with him and Azriel. You’ll be able to take teen Illyrians in a year.
Lucien:
Lucien my shayla. He deserves every happiness in the world forever and always. He just wants someone he can let his guard down around. The bare fucking minimum. He’s probably exhausted, when he finally lets go of that tension that's been holding him up all these decades, he breaks down in your arms. Please don’t judge him, he’s been forgotten and lost for so long. Just hold him, just see him and still want him. The real him. Lucien would do and give you anything you wanted there are no limitations to his love and devotion to you. While it might not be public at first, that is regarding his trauma for losing his first love. Literally would run away with you if you asked. I think he just wants to be seen and recognized and appreciated for once in his life. Poor thing is always being forgotten and left behind. He just wants someone to see him and love him more than anyone. He doesn’t expect this of course, but he wants it. Lucien would always be making you laugh and tease you every chance he gets. I think he understands when to be serious, he is very emotionally intelligent and clever. They call him the fox for a reason. He knows just how to properly react to almost every situation properly. You will never be unheard or misunderstood in his presence. You would be the sun that warms him and everything sweet and desirable. He wants someone to cherish. He deserves to be cherished back.
Eris:
Eris is a complicated man. Yet everything about him seems overly simple at times. He knows how to be the perfect gentleman, follows guidelines and traditions that past ancestors followed. He would seem almost practiced in his perfection at first. As if he’s done this millions of times and perfected it each time. It would take him a while to truly open up to a partner. To let them in and see his true self. I think we haven’t seen enough of him in the series in order to make an actual estimation on how he is as a partner. Especially considering he is often portrayed as the villain. So I’ll just list the traits that seem to stand out to me. He would be charismatic at the start, buying you flowers and holding open doors. It would be good at first, if not stoic in nature. Over time you would have your first argument. Things would change, he would present a different part of himself. The argument would be vicious and vivacious. He wouldn’t know how to cope with feelings like anger or rejection properly towards someone he cares about. If he truly loves you, this would change. He would let you in and open you up to a new side of himself. It wouldn’t feel so plastic as before, you fight, you argue and hate each other for a variety of reasons. This is normal, you would start to find out what it means to truly love without conditions or transactions holding it in place. He seems like someone with an untold tragic backstory. I think once he gets whatever it is off his chest and realizes you’re not judging him for it. He would be little better than a dog. A scary guard dog.
Tamlin:
Well. Yes he is a character. In a book. Personally I can’t stand the whole kicked puppy thing but I do understand him. He is complicated and that is understandable. I think he needs someone blunt, no bullshit, who will absolutely take the lead. It’s funny because a lot of people suggest he needs someone to NOT take the lead, but he is a horrible leader. Truly terrible. I think Feyre and him could have worked things out and been great together, IF Rhysand was not her literal fated mate. Rhys and her would have drawn to each other regardless over time it would have happened. Tamlin is infamous for his emotional outbursts and inability to regulate himself. This is not the worst thing about him. In my opinion it is the way he rules his court that needs correction. He taxes the poor as equal as he taxes the rich. Tamlin is a communist. I think he has a lot of redeeming qualities of course. He has a provider mindset which is appealing to a lot of women. Sure he's attractive. Yet he definitely needs someone to take the lead. He has that whole “alpha male” Andrew Tate thing going on currently. He needs someone who will say no down boy and tell him how it’s done. He will grow to accept this and be better because of it. Maybe after he’s done some serious self reflection he can get privileges back. Like having friends and ruling alone. I think he has the potential to be a good partner. Maybe for someone who does not care about things like politics, economy, morality, being second to him, he would treat you well. You’d never want for anything and be posted up in a mansion of course. Over time you might grow bored of picking flowers and going on surveillance strolls. I think a better version of him is generous and kind. Not only to you, but to others. He has no problem spreading his wealth and listening to the problems of his court. He just needs to abandon those outdated ways of ruling his father implemented in him. I don't hate Tamlin at all- I just think he reminds me of those men who shouldn't have podcasts or political opinions. Like just sit there and be pretty.
Jurian:
Omfg🤦♀️. This guy. He is going to be unbearable. Literally the whiniest bratty guy who gets away with it cuz he’s hot and funny. He’d definitely tease you, he’d have an attitude about it too. Saying shit like “You don’t even like me” and tugging your hair playfully. He’d be silly but not know he’s silly and want you to take him seriously. Which honestly, just makes him look like a feral cat fighting you on trivial things. I see him as being very jealous and possessive of you. Given his history with Miriam and Drakon, he would be paranoid constantly which would get annoying over time. You just have to find ways to reassure him without making it blatantly obvious that is what you’re doing. Manipulate him. He would be a good partner though, I think he’d be pretty clingy actually. He’d take you around his friends and make sure you always feel included. He knows what it feels like to be an outsider. He would never want you to feel like you’re in the backseat or a second choice. He actually would like your opinions. He wants to know what you want, what he can do to make you happy.
Tarquin:
Tarquin is a sweet man. He knows how to take care of you, he’ll listen and understand thoroughly. You wouldn’t want for anything. He is there already knowing what you want and giving it to you. I think he’s a communication king and is not fond of keeping secrets. He likes everything out in the open and does not possess the skill of manipulation or mind games. Perhaps if you're a cynical person you would be wary of his kindness. It seems too generous, too undeserved. Yet, he is not thinking that. He’s probably thinking pretty intelligent woman, I want to know her. He is a sweetheart, truly. I think he could benefit from a more assertive, cunning woman. His kingdom could use someone who is familiar with the games of war and the tightrope of peace. [Tolstoy mention?] Tarquin likes his home, I don’t see him as someone who is overly extroverted or a partier. He is probably more content to relax at home or on the beach. It would be a peaceful, uncomplicated love.
Helion:
Oh my lord. Sigh. WELL. We all know how he is. I personally ship him with the autumn king's wife. Hehe. HOWEVER. Helion likes to fuck around and find out. He is a player, we know this. I see this going two ways for him. He’d either benefit from having a partner who will lock the hell down with him. Absolutely no bullshit, no exceptions. You are not dealing with him flirting with others, no games. OR- someone like him. You are fine with him flirting with others because hell- you do it too. Going with the second route you guys would probably have threesomes all over and be world class flirts. I mean- sure Helion might lock in for the right woman. It’s hard for me to picture a productive relationship with him because I feel like I am someone who's based in loyalty and monotony. To each their own haha. Regardless if you’re just a regular in his bed, his partner in other pursuits, or his one and only, you will be treated right and spoiled. He’d have you fancier than a true queen. I hate to say it- but he’s so trophy wife coded. Of course not in a dismissive rude way, I just see him as someone who wants a woman who doesn’t mind taking the backseat and being spoiled. Who just wants to laugh and drink and party with him.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Tom was never an affectionate man. During his schooling years, he kept to himself. He had fun when it was due. Yet, it was short lived and never breathed to see the day or bloom. Until…he met you. Tom had desperately needed a secretary for his simpler work. After weeks of unimpressive interviews and overqualified grovelers trying to get a shot in his firm, you came in. Your hair had a wild way about it, like you had hardly bothered to brush it, the bun was already falling to pieces. You were underqualified really, yet exactly what he needed. He did not want the opinion of an equal, he needed someone who knew how to follow orders.
You impressed him in this aspect, as if you hung onto every word and wanted him to elaborate. To direct you. It was unhealthy really. Tom was uncomfortable with how much he liked it.
He started noticing that you lingered a little even after he had dismissed you. That you seemed to lean towards him while he talked to you.
Over the months, it had grown so apparent to Tom what it was you wanted.
“Y/N.” Tom called out to me just when I had turned to leave. I turned back around with hopeful eyes.
“Yes Mr. Riddle?” I asked quietly, clutching the manila folder closer to my chest. His jaw clenched as he remained silent for a moment. I stood in place, not uncomfortable with his silence or lack of real conversation skills. Then…he stood. Slowly walking over to me until he stood before me with a furrow between his brows. I resisted the urge to reach out and smooth it with my fingertips.
He tilted his head silently before he reached up one of his big hands. I kept my eyes on his politely, unsure what a proper response to this lack of propriety would be exactly. Then his palm slid under the partial bang concealing my cheek. He cupped it and his thumb slowly started rubbing back and forth over my cheekbone.
I found myself reacting rather vivaciously to such a simple touch. My eyes grew slightly heavier as my lips parted and I leaned into it. His eyes assessed me as he caressed my cheek like it was something sacred. Like I was something to be cherished.
“You’re a beautiful girl Miss.Y/L/N. Is there a reason someone has left you this…” He trailed off and clenched his jaw as if the absence of a word was offensive.
“Deprived.” He finished quietly and tilted my face up so he could see me better. My cheek was fully tilted into his palm now as I gazed up at him.
“Just waiting for the right one.” I responded quietly, and he must have liked my answer because his other hand came up to run through my hair gently. I melted into the soft touches, even if his hands were like ice and his stare was like death. He gently untangled my hair with nimble patient fingers. Petting my head before directing it to his chest as his other hand moved around my waist.
Summery: Tom and you had been divorced for a few years now. After custody of your shared child was revoked, you fell deeper into depression and coped with alcohol. It gets bad enough that your Ex Husband, Tom Riddle, tries one more time to save the mother of his child.
Warnings: Alcoholic! Reader, alcohol abuse, depression, Divorced AU, comfort sort of?? in his own way.
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: I'm proud of this work actually. It's quite poetic. Hope you enjoy! I listened to Tom Riddle's playlist while I made it, you can find here.
Time passed quicker under a bottle. Sometimes I felt like I was swimming in it, or a pirate sailing on an unmoving ship upheld by bronze suffocating booze. The divorce was quiet, Tom liked things quiet. He always has. He liked me quiet, he liked Mattheo quiet, obedient. No one stopped him when he took custody of my son. Tom had risen in ranks as a respectable wizard in one of the top most positions at the ministry. I had just lost my job at the pub. Caught red handed sneaking shots behind the bar. The unfairness of life was not new to me. I was 28 with a 9 year old I don’t see and a 32 year old ex husband who hates me. Some would say crippling alcoholism could be seen a mile away. The vodka sodas with dinner turned into bourbon on random Tuesday mornings. It all got very ugly. I got ugly. I lost everything, and soon my flat would be next. I had three days to come up with the 4k I owed for this and last month's rent, which I obviously did not have. I justified spending my last hundred on booze by telling myself a hundred wouldn’t change a thing anyway.
It was all very easy to fall into the oblivion cheap vodka gave me. To slump onto the sofa with one shoe half off. Sipping it like a child sips apple juice. I stared blankly at the dirty ceiling above me, the bottle hanging loosely in my grip. I watched as a delicate spider ran across it, avoiding the little light offered by my grimy window. I drank and drank. I drank until I passed out.
“Get the fuck up.” A sneer made me wince as I opened my groggy eyes. They seemed to be almost glued together with crust and dried tears coating my lashes. I couldn’t have been asleep long, considering my vision was still struggling to make the man in front of me clear. I didn’t need vision to recognize him. He had infiltrated my mind and body at 16 like a plague. Like a spider webbing and mapping my mind to draw out parts of it I never thought existed. I didn’t have any energy to talk, even if I did I was sure it would be painful. My throat felt like a sandstorm and my head pulsed like it carried a heart. My eyes couldn’t be trusted. No. Not as I thought I saw relief cross his features as my eyes focused on him.
Rather roughly, his hand tugged me up by my arm to sit up. I obliged with a fair wince. Squeezing my eyes shut to block out the spins swirling under the flesh of my brain and sparking fireworks behind my eyes.
My body was weak. Thin as a rail and tingling with every movement like it meant to give out at last. My eyes were forced open wide as I was tugged up to stand. Trying to find stability on anything.
“Look at you. A mess. What if your son saw you like this, huh?” His cruelty was not lost on me, but my footing was. I stumbled into him on knobby knees. I heard his sharp inhale of breath before his grip softened slightly. With my head lolled against his chest, it would be easy to go to sleep like this. I was fairly certain he was holding me up with one strong arm around my waist. I felt a cold fingertip on my forehead. Then a brusque but ultimately gentle palm sliding my hair back from my face. I let him tilt my head back like that. Like a pet as he gently directed me by my forehead to look up at him. I opened my eyes, they felt like glass.
“What have you done to yourself?” Tom asked quietly this time. His dark eyes boring into mine like he could read the answers there. I was sure he could not. He would not find anything of use to him now, not anymore. I had become a shell, a liaison between life and death. I was sure all that he would find now is something similar to a rat crawling up under his desk. Starving with glassy eyes and looking to bite. His hand roughly pushed my hair back from my forehead again silently, holding me up against his chest. My feet dragged on the floor under me, far too tired to stand. I suppose I have been tired for a long time now. I wish he would let me rest.
He let out a breath and tilted his head as his thumb roughly dragged over my pale chapped lip. I was a puppet in the puppet master's arms. Strings were never necessary when you have reached this level of self destruction. I’ve seen it before. Women selling their bodies for cheap hits of some drug that will kill them before they reach 30. Men usually didn’t need motive for destruction.
“You need help.” He said softly, it was not a question. Help. Help. My eyes closed as if that word had harmed me. I was beyond help. I was…I was gone. I was not here. I had already slipped through the dusty floorboards onto the dingy lobby floor. Had already molded and rotted through flesh and skull right there. The lingering scent of it drew no attention or alarm to people passing by. Only disdain.
“Will you let me?” Tom’s question was quiet, but it shook my little world. He was asking, he was soft. He sounded…unnerved. My eyes reluctantly reopened and let the pools of dark in his eyes consume mine.
“...Please…” I whispered quietly my broken plea. My voice was like sandpaper, my tone was pathetic. I don’t remember it being this bad. When was the last time I left my apartment? I didn’t have much time to think about that. Not when Tom nodded once and made up his mind. He crouched slightly as his other arm slid under my legs and lifted me as if I were a feather struggling to cling to the soft cotton of his coat. His footsteps made me sickly dizzy, as did the sharp sunlight that hit me as he exited my flat. The hallway reeked of cat piss and stale cigarettes. After I lost Mattheo, I lost my house. The house Tom and I had bought together. At the time I had the means to support it, and myself. Then everything went lopsided. I condemned myself to this sad corner of London like a bug waiting to be squashed.
For now, I hid my face into the softness the lapels of his trench coat offered. I instinctively tightened my arms around his neck, and I clung onto the last person in the world who had the ability to save me. Then I let unconsciousness take me.
A steady beep woke me and my eyes gingerly opened. I did not like the sudden sharpness of the room around me. The moonlight lighting up the new wrinkles of my face from starvation and stress and all things bad. Breathing shallowly, I slowly turned my head to the side. I was unsurprised to see I was hooked up to an IV and a heart monitor. Tom was always on the cautious unnecessary side of things.
“You’re awake.” His voice shocked me, but the numbness still far too seeped into my rotted bones had me not show a thing. I turned my head the other way. His beauty did shock me. He always was beautiful, unchangeable. Like a god waiting for prayer. My dry tongue darted out to lick my chapped lips, I could’ve sworn his eyes followed the movement. I had become accustomed to the signs of lustful men over the years. Sometimes it was advantageous, this was not one of those times. Tom had meant to be my destruction. When he lifted his hand, I followed it too. It called to me like a siren beckoning my ship into rocks. Instead, he lifted a glass of water with a straw in it. As he held it out to me, I took it. Moving the straw to my mouth to sip the water offered. I finished half of the glass before Tom’s hand lowered it by its brim and the bottom of the glass to my lap.
“Not too fast…your body is not used to it.” His eyes seemed to dart over me in a way they hadn’t while we were married. As if continuously searching for answer and cause. Effect and harm, thoughts, movement, consciousness, me. I watched him too. Though my eyes stayed on his that were watching me.
“Where are we?” I asked quietly, my voice scratching and raspy. I cleared it and tried to swallow down the cough bubbling up. I hadn’t missed the nicely furnished room I was in. The giant white bed made of silk and soft linen. A canopy of white lace pulled back at each post with tassels. Tom’s eyes darted from my shaking hands to my eyes reluctantly as I asked the question. Odd. Usually he was the one for eye contact while I avoided it.
“My house.” He said and swallowed a lump in his throat. I nodded slowly, holding his eyes silently. His nostrils seemed to flare as he sucked in a greedy breath and wretched his eyes elsewhere. I watched as he put his own hands into his gray trousers and leisurely walked over to the heart monitor. He stared at it for a beat before turning back to me. Two steps and he was reaching out, his eyes on the wire under the silk nightgown I had been dressed in. He did not look up at me, did not touch my skin. He gently pulled down the hem in a pinch of his fingers, revealing the sticky patch that had been placed above my heart. By the base of the wire he gently lifted it off my skin. Little hairs on my chest being pulled with it. When it was off he pulled away as if scorned. His whole demeanor was almost offensive. I understood disgust and hatred but this was…something else. He could hardly look me in the eye.
“Thank you.” I said quietly as I pulled back up my shirt, glancing over at him as he flicked the IV bag before shutting it off. He did not respond as he took his time walking back beside me. His hand waved at my arm expectantly, making me furrow my brows as I looked down at it. I turned it upright for him to take out the IV. His hands again avoided my skin as he slowly pulled the needle from my vein. There was a dull throb that came with it. He took his time as he rolled it back up and set it aside. I said nothing. Afraid I would set him off and be back in my cold corner of the world by dusk. He assessed my body carefully, holding out a bandaid that I took. When my finger brushed his, he jerked his hand back and put it in his trouser pocket making me still. Slowly I pulled my hand back in and opened it. The sound of opening paper was too loud in the silence between us. I swore my breathing could be heard a country away. I pressed the small bandage down against my bleeding arm.
He lethargically walked to the end of the bed and faced me. I looked at him and he looked at me. If we were a painting I'm sure it would be quite tragic.
“There are rules.” His voice broke the silence. Careful and precise in nature. I swallowed and did not respond. Surely he would elaborate anyway.
“If you are to stay here, I expect a full recovery. No exceptions. No oops.” His voice dipped at oops as if the word had personally offended him. I nodded slowly, this was expected. This was what Tom did, what he was good at. He could command a room with stronger wizards with the same lazy grace and slow tone.
He paused as he observed my pitiful nod. Turning and slowly walking over to the west facing window where the sunset had cast him in orange and reds.
“One. You will do as I say. You will listen. If I say jump-” He turned to look at me then. He was…striking. The melting sun had highlighted his cheekbones and those dark eyes melted into pools of sunlit tree bark.
“How high?” I cut in quickly. A sudden fierceness seemed to consume me with his attention on me again. Like he had found my broken weary soul and offered a little ember starting at the ends of my hair. It had flicked up and scorched my roots until that small fire burned behind my eyes and worked its way down to the pit of my empty stomach. Nestling there and finding homage in an empty space to spread its spark. His eyes narrowed just slightly at my interruption, but it was not scorn in his gaze. He did not praise me, but I saw the shift. He no longer seemed to look at me as if I were a gun. He looked at me like a soldier. Like he had now made it his personal goal to shape me into one of his.
“Two.” He continued with a reticent expression on his face now. He leaned back against the desk behind him now. Facing me as he crossed his arms and continued.
“You will eat and sleep in here until I say otherwise.” He continued before pausing as if making room for objection. Something like triumph flashed over his eyes before he continued once again. Each demand more demeaning than the last. Confined to a single bedroom in this strange new house. I regret thinking to myself if I had known he would grow so wealthy I would have stayed.
“Three. No secrets.”
“Four. You will see a counselor. This is not negotiable and will begin Thursdays at 1.” He was now walking to the door, his pace as lazy and lingering as his practiced tone. I watched him as he stopped beside the thick wooden door.
“Five. You will continue to stay here after your recovery.” He said and tilted his head slightly. Posing like a snake assessing prey that stumbled into his path. Shock had my eyes widening briefly before I forced myself to nod. His stare lingered even as my nod slowed and stopped.
“Good. Dinner is at six. Lights out before eight.” He said before he opened the door and stepped through the threshold. He paused on the other side and turned his face halfway towards me. The sight was almost venomous as his dark eye held a gleam like obsidian in moonlight. The sharp set of his jaw clenched down with some unpinnable emotion.
“I don’t recommend leaving the bedroom unsupervised. It will quickly become a cage.” Then the door was shutting. I was left staring at the heavy mahogany door as the sounds of footsteps did not come. As I exhaled a breath, the click of his polished loafers retreated at last.
Pt 2????
//Masterlist//
A/N: Hi!!! This is different from what I usually post for sure! I honestly struggled with alcohol problems in the past myself, this was some-what of a little mind experiment for me. To force myself to recall the depth of what I had buried and let it resurface into something others might find relatable or comforting. I am already working on part two! It shouldn't take long. I really, REALLY hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it! I hope to expand this blog and write more lengthy meaningful pieces to exercise my writing abilities further. [Don't worry I still plan to make my smau threads💋] *ALSO* I'm pretty proud of myself for learning how to do dividers at last 😂.
