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samanthalightning · 2 years

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Selfish- Jacob x Swan!reader (Bella's sister) The Somewhat Happy Ending

*Not mine. Credits to the real owner*

Part I | Sad Ending

A/N: Hello again! Just wanted to explain why it's the 'end' The purpose of these parts are to explore possible outcomes of the previous part. I just wanted to write it and post something as I'm quite stuck what to do with it just yet; consider it as a sort of filler chapters. Although I am planning to make more parts with a different narrative than these two. And yes, as per request Jacob will suffer profusely. Hope that makes sense and hope you love this!

Warnings: Angst, suicide talks, depression.

***

They’re coming— and it haunts Jacob. Each day feels like ripping a page out on the calendar, and there's nothing that could prepare them from it. Not the 20 bloodsuckers inside the mansion, and especially not Alice and Jasper, because no one knows where the hell they are.

Everything is in shambles, fast-paced and confusing. It's not like all fences are mended, but all help is needed.

He escaped to the nearby creek. Skipping rocks for ages, lost in thoughts but somehow doesn't skip a beat. He thought he'd take the selfishness to the fullest and grant himself a reprieve he doesn't deserve. There's too many people at Cullens’, and Edward can hear all of his worries, which is uneasy. And you haven't left his mind today. If he's being quite frank, you haven't left his thoughts for the last months, and everyday you haunt him. And how can it not? All of his stupid decision led to this.

He already heard the rustling,and the footsteps nearby. He was on guard for a moment, only for it to dissolve upon scent of the younger wolf.

He was surprised to say the least. They weren't on good terms for obvious reasons. Sure, a few words here and there when discussing with the pack or the Cullens, but they rarely speak, let alone be alone together.

Jacob kept throwing rocks, slightly distracted as he assessed the situation, if saying anything would be the right thing. It doesn't take a genius how uncomfortable they are with each other's presence.

"She's coming home today,” Seth announced, picking up rocks.

He didn't turn to face him, but nodded. "Yeah. Bella told me,"

The silence took over them, both had just watched the rocks skip and rippled the water, hoping that somehow the awkwardness can be solved by it.

Seth huffed to himself. Jacob wouldn't be the one to give in first.

"You're not gonna see her?" He asked, trying not to sound interested.

Jacob tensed, sighing as he reluctantly replied. "I… don't know,"

The younger wolf nodded curtly, the noises of nature were more evident in their wordless interaction. It wasn't hard to figure out Seth's fixation on you, it's like staring at a mirror actually, except this time, Seth really deserves you. He pondered the reason he was really here; did he just really want to tell him? Or was he asking to let you go?

There was a sudden ache in his chest; it felt simultaneously ripping apart and closing in. He hated it, but what he hated more is maybe this was the best for you. Because he isn't.

"It took me a lot to realize, even though I said I did," Seth began, as Jacob was pulled out of the ocean of his thoughts. "Whatever happens, even though I give her my everything, I can't give what she really wants,"

He glanced over to him, immediately taking notice of how red and glossy his eyes are becoming; the way he looked up at him with a sense of softness and defeat. The guilt crept up on him, as he began to realize what Seth had come here for.

He turned away, shook his head. "She deserves more than what a guy like me can give,"

Seth chuckled wryly. First he heard him do that to something he said. The light, easy-going Seth was always frowning at him.

“I know. But she's not for me, Jacob,” he somberly stated. Jacob was sure that he heard some sniffles.

“Well, after all this crap, I don't think I'm a better candidate,” Jacob insisted, throwing the remaining rocks in his hands.

“You kinda don't have a choice," Seth countered. “And once you’re ready to be the man worthy of her, you know where to find her.”

Seth threw his final rock, ultimately surpassing the Alpha's previous throws. He then leaves, and Jacob has more thoughts than he had before.

And he knew he was right.

You felt like a fresh-sighted tourist, awestruck at the landscape of the town you knew so well all your life. Being confined into a hospital bed, and left to stare at white wall is surely to blame for it. And maybe because you thought you won't be able to see it again.

Charlie kept glancing at you every single minute. He's on edge, but never really expressed it vocally. Though his constant pestering with the nurses, heavy sighs, lack of sleep, and hovering all the time are speaking volume. Can't blame him.

You and Bella are a hell of decision-makers. And look where your choices got you. She's a vampire, and you were in an 8 weeks coma, endured a fractured skull, broken vertebrates, busted knees and hips— paralyzed from waist down.

What are you two doing trying to give him a heart attack?

The familiar faces already popped up in the distance— Bella and Seth stood there waiting for you two, even waved upon the sight of the truck.

Seth got bigger again— taller, leaner, probably stronger. You saw him all the time in the hospital, and yet he still managed to catch you by surprise with his growth spurt. Perks of having your wolf genes significantly enhance your puberty, you reckoned.

Charlie pulled up in the driveway. Your old man undid his seatbelt and turned to you to do yours, but you stopped him.

"Dad, I can do it,” you murmured with a soft smile.

He froze for a bit, before slowly nodding with a tight-lipped smile, failing to mimic yours.

You opened the door to be greeted by Seth with his usual ear-to-ear grin that could light up this whole town. He quickly locked you in a bear hug.

“It's nice to see you home safe, Y/N,”

You closed your eyes, nuzzling your face further to his neck. You enjoyed the warmth his body radiates; it brings a sense of the most awaited ease— a heavenly light comfort that whisk you away, and bring you somewhere that is away from all too much this small town offers.

It reminds you of him.

And just like that you heard a resounding slap that made you flinch and move away from him. It was so loud it vibrated through Seth. If it wasn't for his pain tolerance, he would have screamed for that.

You already know where it came from.

“Okay, champ! Stop suffocating my daughter and get her out of the car," he grumbled.

You shot him an apologetic look. He waved it off with an assuring look, and carried you bridal style all the way to the porch, gently placing you down on your wheelchair.

"Thank you," you mumbled.

"You're welcome,”

Bella approaches you with a playful smirk.

“Hey stranger.” She went in for a tight hug, which you returned. Gladly so.

You admit it's weird seeing her, you couldn't believe how infinitesimally small the external changes are; what seems normal to others, are much different to you. You know that Bella's changed. Unalived now officially. She was still Bella, but no longer tripping over a leaf or something. How she carries herself is foreign to you— she's much more confident now. And the whole ordeal, obviously was enough to cause some uneasy moments. You have the feeling that Bella blames herself, even though she didn't have to— she doesn't need to live with that guilt. It was nobody's fault.

Except for me.

Charlie pushes you inside the house into the living room where Edward stood. It’s decorated, all Christmas-y. You don't know how Charlie managed to get the time to hang them. The usual smell of the house was surprisingly covered by something delicious, but the sight brought you to sigh; a release of the anticipation, and the bubbling comfort with familiarity was overwhelming in a good way. Home sweet home felt so bittersweet and all of what you did sunk in even more.

“I’mma just check on Sue. Be right back,” Charlie said, patting your head gently and headed to the kitchen.

“Welcome home, Y/N,” Edward greeted with a half-smile.

‘Thanks,’ He replied with a nod.

He looked over his shoulder, whispering something, which piqued your interest. Then a little girl slowly stepped out of his shadow.

It's her— Renesmee.

She walked to you, unsure. She would look at Bella for approval, her mother willingly gave. You never really saw her in person, but Bella showed you some photos, but they're no comparison to how much of an angel she looks like. She looks just like her parents. Well, they are her parents. But Bella's eyes and Edward's mannerisms, but laced with sweet innocence. She is absolutely perfect.

She stopped in front of you, her curious eyes studying you. She lifted her small hand, aiming to touch your cheek.

“Don't be afraid, that's just how she communicates,” Bella assured.

You nodded and let her be. Then somehow, you were in a different place. At Cullens’ specifically. You saw Bella holding a picture frame. She showed it, and you realized it's you. Bella was telling her about you, and that you're her aunt.

Brought back, your eyes wide with mesmerization. Merely chuckled as the best response. That was mind-blowing. To see someone else's memory is genius. Whoever creator is up there, you know they created something magnificent.

“Hello to you too.” She giggled bashfully at your remark.

Charlie called everyone to grab a plate. You all sat down in the living room, ate and talked. Edward said the family sends their regards; you inquired about Alice not visiting you lately, and picked up the glances the three of them made. Their expression grim and worried, but Bella assured you she's fine, just a bit busy. It wasn't hard to tell that they're hiding something; always so vague and deflecting. Though for now, you’ll let it slide. They’ll tell you about it soon.

Sue did an amazing job with the food. People in this room are not the ones you would imagine that'll choose to be in the same room, but everyone just fits in, acting like this happened so many times before.

Bella and Edward have their family now. Sue and Charlie found their way to each other; she's the reason why Charlie's taking it easy on Seth and not loading his rifle each time he gets near you. And why he's holding on so much better despite what you and your sister pulled.

The guilt struck you in between the chest. The shame washed over you. These are the people you would've left behind. This moment would have not existed if you truly did not survive. Charlie would be in so much mess, Seth would be so heartbroken— and Bella, she would've been eaten by her guilt. You’ve thought of the consequences, but how could you have not thought it through? You felt so cruel for doing that to them.

You and Edward caught each other's eyes, and you already know how loud your thoughts are. He offered you a sympathetic look, even caught his lips murmuring ‘it's okay,’

But you know it's not.

Eventually, Charlie’s worrying mood activated and he took you to your room to rest, ignoring all Seth’s offer to help.

Charlie tucked you in, explaining all of your coming appointments for the physical therapy and well, therapy. You weren't even a day away from the hospital and you were gonna come back soon.

“Well, if you need anything, just holler and I’ll get you it, okay?”

“Yeah,” you murmured.

He planted a firm kiss on your forehead. He didn't want to let go, but he did. You said your 'good night', and he exhaled in response. You thought for a second that he was going to stand up, but he stared at you. You raised your brows, waiting for him to say something. But he just sighed again.

“Are you okay, Dad?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied softly. He turned away from you, and you heard a sniffle from him. You know it's bound to happen. He never talked about it in the hospital.

He faced you back, his eyes glistened with distraught. His hand covered his mouth, he was probably trying to muster a word in without choking up.

He took both of your hands, and held them tightly. Just when you thought things couldn't feel more worse, they did. He gazed into your eyes, and now you couldn't help the water brimming in your eyes as well.

“I know I’m not good at this— your mom may be a better person to talk to, but you can talk to me, okay?”

You hang your head down in shame, unable to face the pain of your actions caused. He cupped your chin and titled your face up to look at him.

“I might not understand, might be hard for me to handle, or you think I’m not ready for it, but sweetheart, what I’m not ready for is not to have to talk to you for the rest of my life.”

You had never seen your Dad look so heartbroken and desperate.You felt like an absolute fool. You unleashed all of the tears of the buried guilt you had for months.

“I’m so sorry, Dad,” you cried.

He shushed you, His thumb wiped your tears, extremely futile due how much tears were streaming down your cheeks.

“No, it's not your fault. But I’m here for you. I’m always here, come to me when you need something, okay?”

You launched yourself onto your Dad, and he embraced you just as tightly. He did nothing but whisper how he got you until you both stopped crying.

Bella and Edward stayed behind to help clean up, they've been subjecting themselves to doing mundane things, as the little voices in their mind nags that this may be the last time they all see this.

“He's here,” Edward mumbled to her as he loaded up the dishwasher.

Bella already knew that. He was subtle, but heightened senses can do so much. She went out back to find him just standing there.

"So, you're just gonna lurk over there?" The werewolf didn't reply, looking a bit flustered being caught. "You can come in, you know. Talk to her.” Belle urged.

He shook his head. "I can't,"

Bella sighed, crossing her arms. She stood beside him, following his line of gaze. The window to your room.

"I don't hate you, Jacob. I don't think she does either,” she spoke after a long pause.

Jacob scoffed, having a hard time believing it. Bella frowned.

“I swear, Jacob. Angry, a little bit. I could never hate you, though. I just wished it went a little better than how it is now,”

“It's not your fault either,” Jacob assured.

Bella was silenced to herself, not quite agreeing to the statement.

"You can lurk in the shadows all the time. That's not going to fix anything," Bella said to him.

Jacob sighed, jaws clenching and lips pursed in apprehension.

"I don't think I can look at her— not after what I did,”

"Well, you can look between her eyebrows—"

"I'm serious, Bella," he chastised.

Bella rolled her eyes. "Go talk to her." Bella left to get back inside.

Once again, he's left to make his choices.

Must have been hours since that breakdown between you and your Dad, and you're left staring at your ceiling, not being able to catch sleep. You assume your Dad is tossing and turning as well— no one could recover from that quickly. It wasn't all cathartic, matter of fact, you think that breakdown is going to be the first of many.

You decided it's been a long day, and you were going to make an effort to sleep. You fluttered your eyes close, only to be snapped back open. You're no vampire, but you knew you heard something. Grunts, a strained voice.

You slowly propped yourself up on your elbow, to find a hand gripping on your window pane. You were sure as hell that Charlie closed it before he left the room. He worries too much to miss it.

You were preparing to call out to Charlie, as the person lifted himself into view. Though nothing came out of your mouth when you saw the tanned-boy missing his sweet smile.

Your eyes widened, mouth agape. It felt like everything had stopped. You hadn't seen him in months.

"Jacob?” You were stunned to say the least; relieved that it's not some burglar, but baffled.

"Hey,” he said, sticking his head in. He raised an eyebrow, asking for permission. You contemplated for a bit, but let him in anyway.

He entered head first, before gingerly planting his feet down on the hardwood floors, you guessed that he didn't want Charlie to hear.

You visibly struggled to sit up, not feeling any moment from your legs. Jacob stepped forward to your aid, but you lifted your hand as no, making him stop in tracks. He retreated back when you finally managed to do so.

He stood there in the dark, he slipped his hands in his pockets, awkwardly leaning on his foot. And a few meters away you're stuck on your bed. A knife could cut clean through the tension radiating between the two of you. The gravity of what he said and what you did was painfully weighing on your mind.

“How are you?” He spoke, immediately wincing upon realizing how stupid the question is.

“Alive,” you lifelessly replied, though the hammering of your heart would suggest otherwise.

“I… don't know what to say,” he admitted.

Quite frankly, so did you. Everything changed from when you both last saw each other, and for the worst. It's all too much emotion just to be in the same room with him. It wasn't nervousness or anxiety; just ache. It aches.

“What are you doing here?” You somehow wanted to sound firm, but you were reduced to a quivering whisper.

His shoulder tensed, hunching over. It's been a while since you saw him so down. Not like down during Bella's wedding, but almost powerless soft.

“I just wanted to see you,”

You couldn't say a word. Because your mind somehow can't believe that he now wants to see you, not in a positive way though. You can see the guilt written all over his face, and that's all the base for it.

Then in between the silence and the start of the lingering gaze of your eyes when it met; the longing, guilt and shame had dawned. You teared up. You didn't know what took over you, but you just wanted to ask.

"Why not me?" He swallowed thickly, taken aback by that. "I know it's because of her, but please give a proper explanation. I deserve that.”

"You deserve so much more,"

"Then why?" You croaked out in plead.

He whipped his head to the side, biting his lips. Even his fist clenched; it's taking too much of him to tell you the truth. But he already said things far worse.

Jacob glanced back at your pleading face, reconsidering. He relented with an exhale.

“I… because I'm a coward. I got scared, and I-I didn't know what to do with the fact that for some reason a wolfy thing dictates my future, and I can't do anything about it,”

You furrowed your brows. “Am I that bad to be with?”

"No!" He exclaimed with his hands gesturing. "It isn't about you— it's feeling the need to prove everything wrong so much that I didn't realize how much pain I was causing.

Or maybe I do, I was just too full of myself to care,”

You had cried too much today, and you didn't want him to see you fall apart again like the last time. So You hardened your features.

"What changed?” You asked, indignantly. “I almost died? If you feel guilty about it, Jacob, it's not your fault. I made that choice,”

“Because of me,” he added poignantly.

“No, Jake, that wasn't your choice!"

"Don't you get it?!” He growled.

You slightly flinched. It has been 5 minutes, and your frustrations have gotten the best of you. You were back to that night with the screaming match.

“It was me!” He screamed, the glistening of his eyes was more evident. “I didn't need to see you die two times to knock some sense in my head. I was so scared, so scared each time your heart stopped, baby.”

It was like magic, the way your heart dropped. The spark of hope in your chest was igniting again.

"You were there?"

He nodded, not able to contain his tears. "Everyday. I just didn't know what to say or do,"

You were held captive in your tears. You couldn't help but sob, because his confession hurts, and you don't know what this is all leading to. Are these all necessary steps to heal?

You heard his footsteps approaching towards you. You couldn't even look at him. Because despite of all that's done, once you saw his face that stupid magnetic tug to go him rendered you powerless. Despite all of it, he still feels something.

You might just give in to him. That had you worried.

"I am so sorry. So, so sorry. You shouldn't have gone through all of this for me to realize how much you meant to me,"

It's taking a lot, but you managed to keep your eyes trained on the floor. He took it as a sign to go on.

The thud as his knees fell to the ground made your head snapped up in surprise. He knelt in front of your bed, looking like he had given up everything— he looks weary, troubled and broken.

"Jacob, stand up. Please," you begged, grasping his arms to pull him up, even though it won't work.

"I am so sorry that you did what you did because of me. I'm sorry for being a coward, for pushing you away, for everything I said. I'm sorry for hurting you the way I did, Y/N,"

It was extremely foreign to see him release a sob, and he isn't even trying to hide it. You couldn't believe it. You were starting to think that maybe you were still in a coma, and this is all part of the made-up scenarios. He was breaking in front of you, for the first time. To you— for you.

"I don't wanna get hurt again," you whimpered.

"I can't promise that baby, but I can promise I will never do that again to you,"

He took your hands carefully. You didn't want to intertwine it with his fingers, but you so craved his touch. You missed the feeling of his skin.

"I don't know if we'll recover from this, Jacob," you pressed.

"Baby, we can. We will,” he assured with a squeeze of your hands. "I will never be able to forgive myself for that. But yours will be enough.”

“You know it will take time,”

You looked him in the eyes, trying to convey to him how deep he had gotten. But he was a determined man.

He nodded vigorously. “I know. I’m not asking now, Y/N. I’m begging for a chance to earn it,”

“I’m a burden now,”

He shook his head, he gripped your hands tightly, lifting his lips to kiss it. You closed your eyes when you felt it, and surprisingly you hadn't run out of tears.

“You're not. You never were,” he whispered to you. “We’ll work on it, okay? I’ll be here, I won't leave you again,”

“Promise me you won't leave me,” you pleaded. Not just to him, but for this to be true this time.

“I won't.”

He rested his forehead against yours, eyes locking and urging you to do something. The small gap between, makes your cheeks warm and flushed. You release a chuckle, being aware of what's to happen next.

“Can I?”

“Yeah,”

He cupped your cheeks, his hands felt scorching somehow. First, he pressed a kiss on your forehead, down your wet, sticky cheeks. Lastly, he ran the pad of his thumb against your lips, inching closer. Your lips parting, your breathing became uneven, as you anticipated his next move, then he planted his lips against it, moving sensually easing. Your head was spinning in the blissfully surreal moment.

You slowly pulled away to catch your breath. You both grinning ear-to-ear, tear-stained cheeks; dazed and fascinated. You opened your mouth to say something, but he swiftly wrapped his arms around your torso, pressing you close to him, and locking your lips in a feverish kiss. His tongue glides your mouth expertly, like he had memorized it. He gradually got on his feet, carefully pushing you down to the bed. He didn't dare stop his assault like you starved him or something; frankly, you were feeling the need to keep up.

Your hands began to travel down your bodies. It wasn't until a moan left your lips, you realized this is becoming a full make out session. You struggled to tear him away from you.

"Jake," you breathed.

He nodded and let you go. He let his head fall in the crook of your neck, as if apologizing. He got a bit carried away, and he knows it. You laughed off the awkwardness of the position, given that you won't be able to survive his body weight on top of you.

He lifted his brows in hope. He was beginning to gain back himself.

“Think you got more space in there for me?”

“Yeah,”

He helped you scoot over to make room for him. He wrapped his arm around you, hand rested on your waist. You snuggled closer to him, feeling like you're never gonna be close enough to him. You lay your head on his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat, lulling you to comfort.

He felt warm. Safe. And for the first time, right. To seal the deal, he kissed your hair as good night.

There's a whole lot more things to come before everything falls into place. Healing and growing yet to set its foot into your lives, but you're waiting and you'll be ready. Things will not be as perfect, but you're gonna try.

You're both gonna try to choose each other every time.

Bonus scene (just because):

Charlie woke up surprisingly early despite his sleep, or lack thereof. The first thing he did before even brushing his teeth was to check up on you. Maybe you needed to go first or something went wrong.

He was careful with his footsteps, afraid he’ll wake you up. Gingerly, he opened the door, and as expected you were still asleep. But his eyes widened when he saw who was sleeping too.

“Jacob?!” He exclaimed.

His voice was loud enough to make the birds fly away, and definitely woke you both up. You jolted up, mouth hanging open, and spared no time being groggy. You turned to Jacob, who was stunned as you are. He promised to get up before Charlie did, but that was the best sleep he had in months.

“Dad, I can explain.” You carefully lifted your hands to try and de-escalate the situation and be firm that no funny business is happening, though Jacob being shirtless isn't really helping. The idiot took it off when you complained you were cold, 'skin to skin contact helps', my ass. Besides, Charlie was seeing red already.

“How did you get into my house?!”

***

Hope this didn't disappoint! Thank you guys for reading and waiting, and I know some of you specifically wanted to make Jacob suffer, so I do advice checking out the other version of this or wait for the multi-part thing. As always, requests are welcome, might just take me a while to get it done. Thanks xx

Tags: @sluttmeoutttt @notahappystan @sillyfreakfanparty @kennedyjeanine @jessyballet @bibella8swan

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samanthalightning · 2 years

Text

Selfish-Jacob x Swan!reader (Bella's sister) Sad Ending

*These are not mine. Credits to the owner*

Part I | Happier Ending

Warnings: Angsty, death. Just a lot of drama. I've been called a fucking sadist and utterly dramatic, bear with me.

***

September 11. The day the universe had to choose which sister to save. Your lives are not only hanging on by thread; a war of tug is happening, you're falling in and out of breath and will to live.

And at the same time, both hearts stopped and never will they beat again. But Death made his decision, and for the first time, you were the choice.

Billy had warned his son. Surely, not everyone knew, but enough knew who to shift the blame to. Jacob was stubborn though, it was like he did not hear his father's pleas. In fact, he dressed himself just for you— suit and tie to honor you for the last time.

He arrives outside of Charlie’s house. He’s pretty certain the whole town is here, all wearing black and chatting, they can all barely fit inside of the house. He has yet to see anyone he recognised, not that he paid a lot of attention to the faces— they were blurred. Each step he took was ridden by desperation and grief. He just had to see you. Once he got inside, he almost regretted it. The first thing he saw was your parents talking to someone. Charlie’s blank face, their tired red eyes; the sullenness on his face, he lost a little weight and was barely participating in the conversation. Your mother's forced smile and her anguished expression. The consequences of his actions screamed at his face so loud he would've gone deaf.

He turns away and fastens his pace, weaving through his guilt and the crowd. It's best if they don't see him. Jacob reaches where you were. So many people came, but none of them were here in this room. You were meters away, the nearest he had been to you for weeks, and yet his feet were stuck to the floor— it was like it doesn't want to come to you anymore. He fought through the dread, because he knew he’d regret it if he didn't see the one he failed.

His knees buckled when his eyes met you through the glass. Tears overflowed and escaped down his cheeks, as he exhaled and finally freed his lungs from hold. He covers his mouth, muffling the gasp he released. Locked in a box, that's what you would say. You were in the same position, coma for weeks in the hospital bed, before eventually giving out and succumbing to the pain. It must have been hell going through all of the injury you sustained, he wondered if he came and stayed, would you be here right now?

Your gorgeous locks splayed out, perfectly styled, your skin had turned white like the bloodsuckers. You lie, hands on top of your stomach. You looked beautiful, so, so heartbreakingly beautiful, he felt it through the ache of his heart. The empty and blank loop of feelings he had was destroyed, replaced by the scary sinking of the truth that he will always wake up to— you were truly gone.

For the first time everyone in a long, long while saw what it's like for you to be in peace. Although, it's safe to say that none of them are in the same state. He almost wants to beg the Gods to bring you back, to make things right and hold you tight; a second chance.

"Hi," he choked out softly through the tears. He wants to stare at you forever— or however long he can preserve this moment. He wants to touch your cheek, let his fingers run through the softness of your skin, because he never did that.

"What are you doing here?” It took a moment for Jacob to whirl around. He found the newly-turned Bella, not looking grief-stricken, rather glowing in anger, and its target was him. He never thought he’d see the day that she would look at him that way.

He lifted his hand up to defuse the situation, trying to explain, as she got closer, but Bella bellowed at him. "Get away from her!"

“Bells, please just let me,”

The vampire scoffed with venom. “Let you? Why would I do that? After what you did to her?!”

Edward, along with the other Cullens, entered the room. He tries to hold Bella, but she easily resists his grasp.

"How dare you come in here?" She lunged at him, grabbing him by the neck, and dragged him out of the house, not caring of the looks they received on the way out.

Bella then sped away into the forest for no one to see her wrath. The Cullens called her, but there was no stopping her. She effortlessly throws him to the ground, just as the rest showed up. He didn't bother to stand up, he knows he deserves it. Bella towered over him with righteous fury, her next move unpredictable. After all, she's different now.

“Bella, please stop,” Carlisle pleaded with his daughter-in-law.

"No!” She growled. “You had one job and that's to choose her!”

"I tried, Bella," he cried.

"You should have tried harder!" She kicked his stomach, sending him flying meters away. A loud crack echoed in the forest, enough to make the birds fly. Jacob winced, clutching his stomach.

Bella was to head for another attack, but Edward got to her first, holding her wrist, wrapping his arms around to restrain her. It was visible how hard he was trying, because of her new strength.

“Bella, don't do this. Think about your sister,” he whispered through his gritted teeth.

“I am!”

“No. She wouldn't have wanted this,”

“How do you know?! She's gone!” She screamed. Just then, her wrath morphed into something different; her face softened, slowly she stopped resisting him. She let out one more scream of agony that pierced the sky and Jacob’s heart— the ache of a loss that could have been prevented. She sobbed, and Edward let her go for her to turn and embrace him.

“She's gone, Edward. My baby sister’s gone,” she murmured, as she buries her face in the crook of his neck.

Just like the wind changed poignantly, and the yells turned weeps. Nothing could possibly measure the ache and loathe he feels. Emmett and the two blondes didn't hate him, but they showed no care for his grief too. The other three were the only ones kind enough to look at him with pity and sympathy.

Edward glares at him, before he speeds away with Bella. The rest followed, leaving Carlisle.

"Jacob, I think it's best if you keep your distance for now,” he advised gently, but firmly. Jacob replies with a nod. It was his fault.

The older vampire leaves him alone. Like he would be in his life.

He decided to take a walk, quickly turning into a hike, as he followed the trail you went to. Perhaps it wasn't such a great idea to do that in his attire or he should’ve turned for an easy trek, but it didn't matter. He wanted to feel what you felt during those times. He looked like a weary warrior, fighting for a cause as lost as him.

By the time he reaches the top, his tears are long-dry, replaced with dripping sweat. His feet ache and there's a pounding headache present with him.

He stared at the scary height below, pondering: how long would it take to be reunited with you?

He concluded the answer. Shorter than the rest of his life. He closed his eyes, not caring an ounce for what pain waits in the process. They're worth more than living with the pain of losing you. His thoughts of your vivacious smile and all the times you were such a light.

He sticks a foot out, slowly rearing himself down. The breeze was ready to take him.

But he was yanked away from it.

He opened his eyes to see who took the moment from him. It was Seth. He didn't even see him in the wake or anywhere at all. But he must have followed him to be right on time.

"Why'd you stop me? Get off of me!" He angrily grunted and ripped his hand off of him.

He looked nothing like Seth is. Stoic, almost robotic, emotionless even. The bags underneath and his downcast face makes him wonder when was the last time he slept.

“And what? Let you have your reprieve and escape all of this?” He bitterly spat.

Jacob sighed defeatedly, not wanting to put up any more struggle or fight. His whole existence ached for one thing and it is not living. With teary eyes, he clasped his hands together to plead with Seth of mercy.

“Seth, I just—please just let me be with her,”

“You don't deserve that,” his apathetic tone broke his already torn up heart.

"I wish we weren't werewolves.”

Seth’s voice rose; like a vicious growl fostering. Jacob gulped, fearing he might have to get into an unpleasant confrontation once more.

"I wish all of the things that came with it aren't true at all.” He took a step forward, gears turning and fist clenched.

Jacob took a step back. "Seth..." He gave him a look, their eyes meeting. Jacob hopes whatever left of their connection as brothers may be enough to knock some sense into him.

"I wish that she didn't have a connection with you; I wish she wasn't for you," he continued, his seeming control of his calm is spiraling down, his body trembling, and Jacob knows his anger is feeding his wolf to come out. He carefully eyes the young wolf, bracing himself in what's to come.

"Because I know I would've done a better job. I know that I could treat her better and love her better— I wish it was just me! WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE YOU?!"

"Leah, take him away!" The loud bark of Sam’s order snapped all their attention out of the tension, preventing Seth from lunging at him.

He expected Leah to grab his brother harshly out of the scene, but instead she and Sam gently coaxed him out of the scene. Of course, he didn't relent at first, but Leah, whatever magic she whispers to him, it worked. They were able to get him to leave, not without shooting daggers at him.

“You okay?” Sam asked.

"It's my fault, Sam," he replied, blank faced. All of the anger, pain and all of there could possibly have exhausted him; drained him of strength inside and out. He was sick of crying— he was sick of himself.

Sam sighed heavily, as if carrying his burden. He clasped his shoulder, and he got a look that he did not know he would have today— Sam was concerned, sympathetic even.

"We all do things that come with unfaithful consequences, Jacob. We can't take them back, and we have no choice but to live every single part of that guilt. But you have to remember, her choices aren't yours," Sam said, like an older brother giving him advice. It was strange, but he remembers Sam was no stranger to unfortunate events.

Unsure if Jacob was listening to him, he forced him to face him, staring at him straight in the eyes, sternly but not withering.

"What's done is done. Ending it isn't going to solve it. You're just going to put people through more pain. Everyday that passes after this gives you an opportunity to do better than you did. Don't throw it all away,"

“Come on. Let's get you home.” Sam patted his shoulder, gently pulling to walk with him away from the cliff.

Perhaps this was his karma. To forever live with a void that can never be filled. He was a coward, who got greedy and demanded what he couldn't have.

There were so many choices that could've prevented all of this. If he just abandoned his selfishness and let the world do its job of keeping you together, you would be here.

He should've chosen you.

And maybe in the next eternity he can be selfish enough for you.

***

I honestly don't know what to say. It may be over the top, but I hope you liked it. Do check out the good ending one, and be on the look in case I start posting the multi-part version of this. Requests are always welcome so please, help yourselves.

SETH STILL DESERVED BETTER

Tags: @sluttmeoutttt @kennedyjeanine @sillyfreakfanparty @jessyballet @notahappystan @bibella8swan

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samanthalightning · 2 years

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i love when tragedies are like “the love was there. it didnt change anything. it didnt save anyone. there were just too many forces against it. but it still matters that the love was there”

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samanthalightning · 2 years

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Heya!!!

I wrote a Jacob x Swan!Reader angst (Part I), which was supposed to be a one-shot. Didn't really expect to get a request for Part II, but it happened so I delivered. So it took a damn while for me to post, because I was either drowning in school works or real life shenanigans, but I have done it— matter of fact, two! The two part II will address how it all could've possibly ended, although I see a potential for it to be a multi-part thing, so I might make a new narrative to how story will go, but with the same backstory (please be patient with me though).

It may sounds a bit confusing, but like I said I didn't really intend to make it a multi-part thing. And I'll find a way to explain it better.

With all of that address, I will post the two alternative endings on Thursday, March 17, 2022, 8AM GMT 8+. If you would like to be tagged, just message me! Thank you for all the love, guys!!!

#twilight #twilight saga #jacob black #jacob black x reader #bella swan #bella cullen #bella swan x reader #bella cullen x reader #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen #seth clearwater x reader #seth clearwater #charlie swan #charlie swan x reader #cullens x reader

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samanthalightning · 2 years

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MA'AM I—

“Way Down We Go” Evil!Bruno Madrigal x reader.

Priest! Bruno Madrigal x Nun reader.

Warnings!! Hard smut, some degrading, possessive dom Bruno. Read at your own risk. MDNI! Religious Kink! Priest Bruno and Nun reader. Evil! Bruno Madrigal.

This beautiful beautiful art is by @kler-arts who drew a comic spired by this fic! Please check out their work their twitter is bruthcosplay1 and IG is Klerdraws

Oh the angels tell me, we get what we deserve. And way down we go.

Hurried footsteps echo against the stone walls; the back of the church is empty, it’s late at night, everyone has gone home, everyone except you and him. You know he is there, lurking in the dark, in his office, sitting on his high throne, serving God under false pretenses. Now you know the truth, he is nothing more than the Devil. No wonder his mother had sent him here, to this god forsaken place, a monastery, just on the edge of the Encanto, far away from prying eyes. She knew he was a curse, his powers had grown out of her control, his curses no longer threats but now reality, dared you speak his name in an ill manner and he would curse you, bringing the punishment for your disrespect to levels no one could fathom. She had gotten rid of him, sent him to a place where only God would watch over him, she had made him become a priest, and in a way he had wanted to get away, taking this opportunity to do it right out of her hands.

He is a bastard. You are sure now, he cursed you, when, you don’t know but he had to have done it, as revenge to your parents he cursed you to spend eternity with him. They had sent you away, sent you here before they died, hoping God would protect you from el brujo, that Bruno wouldn’t be able to touch you here, oh but how wrong they were. Now you know, that those feelings you hold for him, that love that burns so bright, that burns your insides at night, when his voice is everything you can focus on as you pray, holding onto your rosary, a hand between your legs, chasing a release just as sinful as it is delicious. He drew you in, from the moment your eyes had landed on him, so imposing, his demeanor cold, distant, but he was always there, present like a shadow, teaching you, helping you, and what had been once a simple brush of his hand against yours had turned into nights of forbidden pleasures, his names falling in whispers from your lips as your hands worked wishing they were his instead. And he had spurred you on, spending time with you, volunteering you to help him, anything to spend time with you, but never touching you, always respecting the holy bound of Christ.

The pain and betrayal you feel is scarring, tearing you apart from the inside out as the letter you had received is clutch to your chest, he lied, he used you and manipulated you into believing all those feelings where your own, when in reality he knows he had put a price in your heart, he locked it and threw away the key, far from anyone else’s hands. You want to storm in and demand and explanation but you are smarter than that, you know better than to condemn yourself. He isn’t a man to mess with, he isn’t just a man, he is un demonio.

Taking a deep breath you knock on the door, fingers barely rasping the wood before you hear him murmur a come in, his voice raspy, deep. His office is dark, shelves upon shelves of books decorated the walls, a few hourglass clocks and candles a top the shelves. Sand and sugar in small pots on his desk, a bag of sand resting in the corner, you aren’t sure for what and he has never mention it. Clearing your throat you offer him a kind smile, a soft one you always give him whenever you cross paths during the day. His eyes are train on your form, watching you walk towards him, a predator stalking his prey. You take a seat across from him, pressing your knees together, your hand immediately stretching to grab the wine glass he offers you.

He merely wonders how your day has been, he asks you about anything and everything, his conversation small and moving, his eyes never leaving your face. He is quieter than usual, most of the talking coming from your side, and the more time passes the harder it is to keep the knot on your throat from spilling over, the letter burning brightly against your chest pocket and time seems to pass in slow motion, a sudden tension fogging the air, only the flicker of the candles illuminating the space around you. You can see it, the way his eyes wander over your face, you could see that he is done playing games with you, he knows what you are there for. It is too late now, he knows, he knows even if he pretends to have no clue as to what the situation is. Still making small talk, offering you polite comments, nodding on your words. Your eyes adverting his, your hands neatly folded over your lap, nowhere near his, where they usually where, where they belong, as you would always tap him softly, hands brushing when you would talk to no ends after hours. His eyes dance over the fire, his predatory gaze reimagining a demon about to take his next soul.

“Bruno…” His name escapes you, like a prayer half whispered to the gods, flying across the table. His eyebrow raise at the sentence, his back straighten, his demeanor change, it’s the first time you have ever dare call him by his name, the green of his eyes no longer resemble the warm olive you know but more the poison of a snake that will consume your soul. The game is over, no longer either of you playing, and in reality, you are too aware it had never been a game, not a fair one at least, he had always known your next move even before you had birthed the thought.

A hand reaches for his face, long fingers pressing the bridge of his nose, pressing harshly as his eyes flickered bright green for a moment. The air catches in your lungs, suddenly it seems as if water has invaded them, leaving you drowning in pain.

“It was you all along” You breath out, chocking on spit and unshed tears. He only nods, not deeming the moment worthy of words. The silence around you feels suffocating until he decides to speak.

“I have been wondering all night, how long it would take for you to break,” He stops, the tone of his voice could be mistaken for joy, his eyes scanning over your face in thought. “It seems you have lasted more than I expected amor.” His lips finish, his eyes taking in the way the name takes a death grip of your throat, choking any words down.

Trembling feet carry you to him, knees hitting the floor halfway before reaching him. You kneel down in front of the devil.

Even angels had the most devilish thoughts.

“I loved you,” you spit out hoarsely, tears running down your face. “And it repulses me.” You finish, the pain of saying those words visible on your lips.

Your eyes meet his, only to be met by mock, the shadow of green dancing on them. His laughter fills the void, dark, cooling the temperature. Fear threatens to show behind your eyes as you lower them. Feet touch the floor as long legs mount a stance, ripping himself away from the chair. Teasingly, he stalks towards your bowing figure before halting, towering over you. His grin faltered, replaced with a look of disgusted delight.

“Then you must show me just how much you love me.” His smile becomes sadistic, his eyes glowing bright green as his hand reaches towards your chin, pushing it up to look at him.

You don’t need him to tell you what he wants, the mask he wears has finally fallen off, the blurred line of sin and holiness is now completely gone, you both know it, it’s a fine thread you dance on, the tension in between the both of you, the touches, the looks, you know he wants you as much as you want him, and now you could see he doesn’t care to mock Gods name with his carnal needs, this has been a game for him all along.

You want him, for heavens sake you want him, you want to hate him, you want to repulse him and be disgusted by his mere presence but you simply can’t , you can’t because he had cursed you to be his for eternity, he had made sure your heart belonged to him and him alone. With trembling hands you reach up, trying to find the buttons on his robe, the black robe he wore, the guardian of the church, the holy man of his sanctity.

You open the buttons one by one all the way to his chest, revealing the black trousers he wore under, the shape of his cock visible through the fabric, and you need to resist the urge to trace it with your hands. He moves his hands to his hair, untying it from its usual loose pony tail, holding onto the hair band he moves his hands to yours, grabbing your tresses in a fist and tying it back in a high ponytail, grabbing hold of the base of it as he moves you back, yanking your hair back to make you look at him, the deranged smile on his face is terrifying, or at least it should scare you, but the only reaction your body has it’s a dripping sensation between your legs, his fingers quickly opening the pants, pulling down the zipper and tugging down his underwear, his cock finally free, precum leaking from the head, it’s so much wider than you imagine, your eyes look back at him, the hand on your hair guiding you closer and when you eyes shut as you are about to touch him he yanks you back.

“Eyes up here amor. I want to see you when you take all of me.” He says, his eyes no longer dark but now they have an iridescent glow to them.

He moves you again, lips brushing the tip of his cock and the hold he has on your hair is so tight you don’t dare look away from him. The salty precum lubricates your mouth as he parts your lips, pushing mercilessly all the way in, eyes half lidded as he feels himself hit the back of your throat. A breathy moan escaping his lips.

“That’s, that’s a good girl,” he praises when your cheeks hollow around him, tongue moving under his cock, spit collecting under your tongue, your lips hurt from the stretch of accommodating his thick length.

His free hand moves to lay against the door, quickly moving down to lock it and take out the key, throwing it somewhere behind him; his thumb then brushes your bottom lip, feeling it stretch around him as he smears the spit leaking out of your mouth.

“Tan sucia, mirate, a los pies de tu señor, cogiendo todo lo que te doy.” His voice breaks at the end, eyes closing as he throws his head back, your tongue grazing the little hole at the head of his cock. You don’t have time to relent on the sight of him, the moment he feels your lips separating just a little bit from him, he tightens his grip on you and pushes you back down, hitting so far down your throat your gagging reflex kicks in, making you cough and gag around him.

“Are you shocking little rat?” He asks with mock sympathy, not really caring and holding you still, his dick still so far down your throat tears are beginning to collect on your eyes.

“Such a beautiful girl, such a pretty mouth, what a shame it is to use it on somone as disgusting as me.” He moans out, pulling you back enough to breathe but leaving himself still inside of your mouth.

“Ugh, no te atrevas a tragar.” He warns you before shoving himself back down your mouth, his pace faster, rougher, making you hold onto his thighs for support as his hips buckle, a moan escaping from you, vibrating against his member and he lets out a long groan before tightening his hold on your hair past the point of pain, his hand slamming against the door as he comes in your mouth, eyes wild, glowing, he looks like a storm that’s has just reached his peak point of destruction.

“Tsk tsk, what did I say,” he warns you when he feels your throat contracting to swallow.

“Keep it in your mouth until I say so.” His tone is demanding, a warning in his voice. One you wouldn’t dare disobey.

His hand finally releases your hair and he moves down, kneeling in front of you, his eyes looking you over before his face turns into a scowl and his hands grip at your robe, ripping open the buttons at the front, exposing your chest to him, his hands moving over your shoulders, down your back and over you arms as he takes it off of you, leaving you naked except for your underwear.

“Come here.” He commands before laying you down on his knees, your ass up and his cock grazing your side, your breast pressing up against the door, one of his hands sneaking up around your throat, gripping the rosary you wear around his fingers in between your skin and his.

A loud whine escapes you the moment his fingers trail down the curve of your back, over your butt cheek, “looks like you will need help keeping quite chiquita” he says, the hand on your throat moving up to your mouth, making sure not a sound will escape you.

You squirm under him, muffle moans escaping you as his fingers graze your slit shamelessly, feeling the wetness and teasing the tip of them on your hole, pushing just with enough pressure to feel how hot and pulsing you are.

“Tan mojada, tan sucia,” he groans, his cock beginning to harden against you and you feel him move, his hands grabbing the belt of his robe. “Quedate quieta, hermosa.” He tells you before moving the rope around the front of your neck, back down your shoulders, under your chest and around your hands, trying them together behind your back, keeping you in place for him.

“Eres una maldita, sucia, tan mojada para mi, te deberia dar vergüenza.” His tone becomes rougher, his hand suddenly smacking down your butt cheek, the sting only adding to the wetness you feel.

“Father Madrigal?” Your eyes snap open as fast as they had closed, the knock at the door building panic over your body, your neck hurting from the struggle of turning to look at him, a devilish smirk on his face as his fingers move to still at your dripping hole before he speaks.

“Yes Father Jose I’m here.” He says, his voice neutral, as if wasn’t absolutely destroying you right behind the closed door.

“Is everything alright? Do you need anything?” The other priest asks, concern lacing his voice. Bruno smirks, his fingers moving moving over your entrance as his index finger moves to graze at your clit, your hands tightening around the restraints as you yearn to touch him, to feel his skin. Fingers digging into the palm of your hand as he moves his finger faster, smearing your wetness over your clit, squeezing it and pulling it slightly in between his fingers.

“Yes father everything is alright, I just spilled some water on accident.” Bruno says, smirk still present as his eyes light up with a mischievous grin.

“Say father how is your mother? Are the remedies working for her?” He is such a piece of shit bastard. Making the other man talk so he won’t leave, so he can have you here, quiet and tortured while the other priest is blissfully ignorant of the sin being committed.

You don’t even hear the other man’s reply, you can’t focus on it as he opens you up and inserts two fingers inside of you, curling them in looking for that sweet spot he knows will throw you over, and just as he finds it he leans down, curling his fingers over and over against it, feeling your walls flutter against him, it feels so painfully good that tears have collected in your eyes, his fingers moving faster and faster, you feel so close to collapsing you can’t do anything but beg he will have mercy.

“Don’t you dare to cum.” He whispers against your ear, the stubble of his beard sending goosebumps over your skin, and you could cry and scream of frustration because you know better than to disobey him.

The other man talks again and Bruno takes a moment to reply, commenting on something mundane before asking him another question. His fingers deep inside of you are about to make you cum, he is moving them so precisely, hitting that spot over and over again; his lips move over your back, kissing and nipping at the skin of your neck, and you can’t help it, you feel yourself beginning to tighten, your mouth opening behind his hand in a silent moan, your spit and his cum mixing together, smearing themselves over your chin and his hand. He groans, his teeth forming a snarl as he moves you faster than you can process, his fingers gone but you can feel the orgasm coming through, he sits you up on your knees, leaning you against the door and quickly angling your ass back. His hand still firmly against your mouth and as you hear the other man wish him a good night, his cock rams into you, the head splitting you open as he sheaths himself deep inside of you, the wetness making it easy for him to enter you all the way until he is completely submerged in you. You have to be dying, there’s no way you can take all of his cock, your walls fluttering around him, your orgasm ripping through you and you can’t even moan or scream, but you can feel the small tear dripping down your cheek and your back arches into him, your breast perking up and he immediately grabs one with his hand, squeezing the soft flesh as he groans.

He can’t even wish the other priest goodnight, words have left him completely, his cock feels as if it is burning up inside your hot velvety walls and for a moment he thinks he may come on the spot, holding onto your skin with all his strength, his grip on your hips so tight it will most likely leave bruises as his head falls down over your shoulder and he needs a moment to come back to earth. Once he feels stable enough to move, he pulls back, pulling out all the way to the tip before ramming himself back in, his teeth clench together and sweat accumulating on his forehead, he can feel the way you breath in as he sinks all the way inside of you, stretching you open with his thickness to the point it is almost painful.

He moves in deep strokes, making sure to hit the deepest part of you each time, the only sound in the room is the wetness of your bodies connecting, and he needs all the focus and strength he has to keep himself from coming, his hands trembling and the muscles on his stomach pulling taunt at the effort. He wonders how could he had ever cursed you, you are heaven, you feel like heaven and he is sure he is here by mistake, he forgets who he is, the only thought in his head is you wrapped around him, your skin slick with sweat against him and he wraps an arm around your middle, pulling you back to rest against him as he speeds up his pace, soft moans escaping him, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he squeezes his eyes shut.

“You will know he’ll before you know heaven boy.” The vision had said when he was just a boy the vision had warned him of the pain, the suffering he would endure before he was redeemed, before he was saved and forgiven. And he was sure now this is what the vision was talking about. You were what the vision was talking about.

His arms tighten around you as he speeds up, hips stuttering and he feels everything in himself beginning to clench. His hand leaves your face, moving it away he turns your head to look at him, looking at you with half lidded eyes before he brings your lips together in a searing kiss, his tongue invading your mouth, feeling the mix of you and him, his cum and your spit together. His hand tangled on your hair, moving apart to breath before kissing you again, a line of spit connecting your mouth and he squeezes you, his eyes squeezing shut a rough groan escaping him as he comes, pushing all the way inside of you, bucking like a wild animal as he makes sure to fill you with everything he has, resting against you once he is spent, both of you collapsing to the floor and he releases the rope keeping you tied, holding you against him as he lays against the door. The only thing that matters right now is you and him, even when he knows tomorrow you will leave him, you will demand he breaks the curse that ties you to him, and you will leave him once you realize the disgusting human he is, he can’t break the curse, he can’t set you free.

@samanthalightning

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samanthalightning · 2 years

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“Entiérrame Tus Espinas” Bruno Madrigal x reader.

Author’s note: this is a part two for “hombre y mujer” but it can be read as a stand alone.

Warnings: Angst, SMUT MDI! 18+

Part 1

“Bruno… Bruno stop” Your hurried feet carry you after him, sprinting through the house, your hand grazing his ruana as you try to catch him and stop him. He pays no mind to what you say, only running faster, nearing his door, nearing his hiding place.

“Bruno please….please stop” you try again out of breath, trying desperately to get to him before he disappears for who knows how long in one of his hiding spots.

He runs up the stairs, his foot catching on one of the steps, nearly tripping him over but he manages to catch himself on time, reaching his door and pushing in, trying to close it before you can get in the room, but you move faster pushing against it and successfully following behind him.

“Please” he begs, neither of you know what exactly he is asking for but you can see slowly how his wall is crumbling down, his eyes beginning to glass over but he fists his hand, trying hard to stay strong in front of you. To show you he is strong that he can handle it, that you aren’t with a pathetic baby who can’t hold onto anything.

“Bruno stop, please talk to me,” you try, slowly reaching a hand out to coax him closer but he only moves backwards, putting more distance between you both.

“It’s nothing, y/n, it’s nothing,” you can see him frantically denying with his head, trying desperately to hold back a sob as his hand shake in front of him.

“Okay, okay if it’s fine then let’s go back, everyone is worried.” You try again, moving towards him, offering him your hand to take.

“I don’t want to go back, I can’t… is my fault I ruined it, please I ruined it….I ruined it…” he is falling into a spiral, he is loosing the internal battle he holds within himself. He doesn’t understand how anything bad that happens could not be related to him, he always ruins everything, he always disappoints everyone.

“Bruno it’s not your fault, come here, Bruno it’s okay let’s just talk about it.” Panic is beginning to settle over you, no longer is he a rat but rather a caged animal, ready to snap and bounce, the emotions going through him are quickly changing from panic to anger to blame and guilt.

“You need to leave, there’s so much better than me out there, I will ruin you and you will hate me like everyone does.” Tears are gathering in his eyes, his hands run through his hair, his breathing becoming erratic.

This is the same argument he always brings up, the one no matter how much you reassure him won’t happen keeps pushing forward in between you both.

“Stop that, you know I won’t leave Bruno don’t say that.” You move closer to him, your temper quickly getting the better of you. “that’s what you do, you are afraid and you push me away! You run and you hide and refuse to open up about it to anyone! Did that work out for you last time? Did it fix everything to hide yourself away!?” You push, and you push too far until he breaks.

“Don’t do that, please, please no, don’t go there, don’t do it…” he breaks, tears spilling down his face and he can’t even look at you before turning around and stumbling up the stairs to his vision cave. Guilt takes over you quickly, a thick swallow breaking at your throat, you pushed him too far, those were doors never meant to be knocked on, wounds never to be looked at and somehow you had opened every single one of them in only a few seconds, so much for the love you claim to have for him, all the times you swore to never let anyone hurt him but it’s you who has twisted the knife on his heart.

It hasn’t been easy, even after being married for nearly six months is still hard for him to let you in, to let you get close to him and you are patient with him, you give him space, you give him the time he needs to start coming out of his shell. But still when the visions, the nightmares come he always hides away, he always stays away far from your reach, he is still scared of them, and you try to reassure him that you are here, that he is not at fault for whatever it is he may see, but years of pain and suffering, of blame and hurt cannot be erase from existence in a year or in ten. There are still moments where you think all the progress done between you both, all the comfort and safety you have built, the trust you have in each other will come crumbling down, and everytime it feels as if it will be the last time he will try to let you close, and the last time you will try to take his demons and make them yours, all to take his pain away.

This is one of those moments, one of those visions that tear into his soul, scar him so deeply he can’t take it and flees, he hides, not even the comfort of your arms enough of a promise to coax him out. You follow him, like you always do, and he usually stays, he usually lets you comfort him, but something has changed, lately he hasn’t allowed you to interfere, he hasn’t let you help him, he has distanced himself from you, and the visions just seem to be getting worse and worse. Julieta tries, she tries to help her baby brother, to talk to him, but he pushes her away too, he hides within the house in places no one can find him for days, not even Mirabel who has always been close to him, it feels as if any moment now he will go back to the walls to never leave again.

You don’t blame him if he does this time around, after all you have just deliver what could be the final blow. He doesn’t deserve it, the words you have thrown at his face, and regret had filled you the moment they had escaped your mouth, but it was too late now to apologize for them, he wouldn’t believe you even if you tried, the only thing you can do now is give him time.

It’s almost a full week that he stays hidden for; you haven’t seen him, no one has in fact, Julieta leaves a plate of food in the kitchen for him every night, family dinners have become somewhat awkward, they ask about him but everyday is the same answer, you haven’t seen him. Not even Mirabel has, you would think that by now she would have found him, but not even the rats are telling Antonio anything. The nights are the worst, the bed feels cold without him, most of the time you lay awake, hoping he will make a noise, the anxiety of the situation turning your stomach in knots.

You turn around in the bed, the moon shining through the window, playing shadows on the walls from the trees outside. A single tear rolls down your cheek, making you bury your face into his pillow, the one you are currently holding onto for dear life. It smells like him, incense and jasmine. Sitting up slowly you move the blankets out of your legs, getting up and walking slowly to the wall opposite of the bed, lifting your hand to softly caress it, hoping he is behind, hoping he can feel it.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur, a tear rolling down your cheek, eyes closing as more begin to escape.

“Mi amor I’m so sorry, por favor perdoname.” You are full on sobbing now, your body squatting down to the floor, kneeling as you cry.

“Bruno please come back, amor come back, I need you, I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve the words I said, you are the most beautiful thing to ever happen to me, amor you are my angel, my light, eres mi luna y mis estrellas amor, por favor, I’m so sorry, I am the one who doesn’t deserve you, please forgive me even if I don’t deserve your forgiveness amor please.” Your body trembles with every cry, tears wetting your nightgown, your hand touching the wall as more sobs abandon you.

The floorboards creak from behind the wall, footsteps echo as they move from somewhere within the room and out of your range of hearing. Your eyes follow the noise, holding your breath when you see the doorknob beginning to turn.

He opens the door slowly, almost afraid of moving too fast, he is scare of your reaction to him, of how you will feel towards him after he disappeared once again for the longest time he has ever been gone again. His head is hanging low, his eyes on the floor as he approaches you with careful steps. You quickly get up, running in his direction and wrapping him on your arms, bringing him down to the floor with you, as more tears escape you and your hands fists into his ruana, holding onto him. His shaking hands find your face, moving to the back of your head through your hair, moving you forward towards his chest as he buries his face in your neck.

“I’m so sorry,” you say against his chest, tears wetting his ruana.

“No, no you…you don’t have anything to apologize for I’m sorry I ruined it..” he begins but before he can continue you cut him off.

“Bruno, Bruno mi vida mi tesoro” you move his head back from your neck, your hands on his cheeks as you make him look at you. “Mi amor you haven’t ruined anything, amor it’s not your fault, is mine, I’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve those words, they aren’t true, I didn’t mean them, I know this can’t take the pain I caused you back but please amor, don’t blame yourself anymore, I was angry, I was angry that you were pulling away from me, instead of understanding that you needed me to be strong, to understand you because you were scared, please forgive me amor. Please understand that I’m here and you don’t need to be alone, that you don’t ruin things, that even when you feel like you need to hide, that you need to disappear please please don’t push me away, please don’t close yourself off of me, you are the biggest blessing I have, you are my whole world amor, tu eres mi vida, mi tesoro, eres mi rey, te amo, te amo mucho cariño, nunca nunca sientas que te tienes que alejar de mi.” You can see his tears falling, his eyes widening as his hands tighten around you. Nodding frantically once, twice he moves closer to you, nudging his nose against yours as you close your eyes, his hands cradling the sides of your head, his lips ghosting over yours, he had missed you, he had missed the sense of intimacy you always brought over him. He had grown to love you, to need you.

His lips crash over yours, softly kissing you, his thumbs drying the tears left behind over your cheeks. Your hands move over his chest, snaking around his neck and settling on the sides, thumbs softly caressing his stubbled jaw. His hands move down your shoulders, grabbing your waist and lifting you over him, leaving you straddling him. His hands move over your back, fingers softly caressing your skin, moving down until they find the hem of your nightgown, his fingers sneaking inside and trailing over your skin, leaving goosebumps on their wake.

You can still feel his body shake under yours, his eyes close and his lips kissing along your jaw, down your neck, delivering soft bites onto your skin. The floor is not the most comfortable place of all, but it’s the first time he has deliberate initiated this kind of intimacy, and you won’t dare stop him now. Your hands move to pull at his ruana, making him lift his arms, allowing you to take it off of him; your fingers move over to the buttons on his shirt next, undoing them one by one, taking it off of him and feeling the skin of his chest, how warm he is, how soft his skin is as your fingers trail up and down his middle.

Moving back a little you give him space to take off your nightgown, a soft blush coloring his cheeks at the naked sight of you, his soft hands tremble for an entirely different reason as they move over the soft skin of your stomach, trailing up to cup one of your breast in his hand, feeling the soft skin and his mouth moving over your collarbone, leaving open mouth kisses and soft nips over the area. Your hands travel down his chest, wiggling back a little your butt over his legs you find the hardness between his legs, grasping it softly, earning a low groan from him, you can see the glow coming from where his head is nestled on your neck.

“Lay back amor” you tell him as your hand pushes him back a little, making him lay back, resting himself up on his elbows. “Dejame disfrutarte,” you say, moving down his body until your eyes are level with his crotch, your hands moving quickly over his pants, opening them while he lifts his hips enough for you to pull them down along with his underwear, leaving him bare to you.

His eyes are trained on you, watching your every move, your hands grasp him, moving yourself lower until your lips graze his swollen head, covering your bottom lip with his precum, your tongue peaking out, grazing the underside of the head, making him moan as he throws his head back, his chest rising and falling and the muscles on his abdomen pulling taunt. Parting your lips you allow the head to slip through, sucking it, your tongue moving to flatten on the underside of his shaft. Working your way down you feel the spit coming down his cock, your hand grabbing the base and pumping him at the same pace as your mouth, taking him all the way down, feeling the tip of him hit the back of your throat, making a mess of this man, moans and grunts escaping him and you see his hand twitch, dying to bury itself on your hair. Setting a pace you continue sucking him, bringing him all the way down until he hits the back of your throat, the gagging feeling doesn’t last long and is a small price to pay at the sight in front of you.

He is trying his hardest not to come, his abdomen burns from the effort of holding in the tension and his head moves up to connect his eyes with yours You look absolutely sinful, the way his cock slip past your lips, how your lashes frame your half lidded eyes; he is sure you could make any man drown at sea only with one look.

“Mi vida” he moans out, his hand rushing to grab your hair, pulling you back slightly off of him. He is too close and he doesn’t want to finish on your mouth, he prefers to cum inside of you.

His hand moves to your arm, yanking you up lightly to sit up, his nails lightly scratching the skin of your thighs when he removes your underwear , and when his body is going to move over yours your hand holds him still, pushing him back once again as you quickly move to straddle him. He looks absolutely broken in the best way possible, he looks like a starved man, desperate, he needs you and he looks like he is about ready to beg to any God who is listening for you. You don’t want to make him wait any longer, sitting up slowly you grab his member, lining him up with you, grazing the head against your entrance, coating him with your juices before pressing down on him and feeling the head slipping through. Just that simple movement has him a complete mess, he looks so beautiful like this, glowing green eyes half lidded, his mouth half open, his hair pulled back behind his ears, and when you finally move down until he is balls deep he looks absolutely destroyed as you sink him home.

He gives you complete control over him, allowing you to do with him as you please as he sits up, his arms wrapping around your back and his face hiding on your neck, where he bites the skin to muffle the moans and groans that escape him, your hips move at a fast pace, ride him so delicious he thinks he will die. Your moans fill the room, your hands grabbing onto his shoulders for balance as your movements fasten, the delirious way the hairs on his pelvis rub against your clit are nearing you to your orgasm, the pressure on your stomach tightening the faster you move over him.

“Amor” you beg him even when you are in control is always him who can break you apart with a simple touch. He knows this, even when he doesn’t believe it he knows how easy you fall apart in between his arms. The simple command of yours making his hands move over your skin, settling on your hips to guide you better, moving you up in time for him to thrust up into you, groaning once your bodies collide together, his hips move up, thrusting into you, his hands tightening on your hips so hard they most definitely will leave bruises behind. This moment when he feels you tightening around him, your walls squeezing his cock as you come, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, in this moment he forgets, he forgets he was ever trapped on those walls, he forgets the loneliness, the pain , the anger, he forgets everything, he is only a man in this moment, a starved man, his instincts take over him, and for those few seconds that’s all he is, a man chasing after his release. The look on his eyes change, they are predatory, they glow brighter, the burn into you and his teeth turn into a snarl as groans escape him and then he is really fucking you, too lost in pleasure to even manage to form words, his hips furiously thrusting into you, your moans only fueling him like kindle to a fire, his hands holding onto your skin like his life depends on it, almost as if he doesn’t hold you so tightly you will disappear in between his fingers, and then he comes with a cry, a feral sound escaping him, his face burying on your chest as his movements become sloppier until he is spent inside of you.

And then he is back, the soft man you know is back, his hands caress you softly, holding you in place, hugging you and kissing you, enjoying being in between your arms once again. Neither of you want to move, enjoying each other too much, needing each other too much to care that you are in the floor, covered in release and sweat but it’s okay, there is time to clean up later, the only thing in the world right now it’s him. His breathing on your skin and his soft caresses on your back.

@samanthalightning

@papi-brunito

@emi-nya

@diannaey

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samanthalightning · 2 years

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“Lo que tú haces no se llama amor” - Bruno Madrigal x Reader Part. 1

Author’s note: This fic is inspired by Ruin from talkaboutbruno on Ao3!! This is just my own take on it but the idea is theirs! Also Camilo is aged up to 21 to 23 around that age, same as reader although Bruno remains 50. This will be a 3 part fic.

Warnings: Implied Smut

He had never asked himself for a vision about love, about soulmates, he had lost hope to ever find it. It was no secret everyone in town hated his guts, and the ones that didn’t hate him enough to stay away, hated him enough to play with his heart to be able to gain access to the status that came with the name Madrigal. He had looked out of curiosity, encouraged by Mirabel to see if perhaps there was any hope for him after all, not knowing the consequences it would bring on him, the insolence of wondering, a punishment for a life of bad prophecies to others, that was what this had to be, this couldn’t be true, it simply couldn’t, he wished he was blind, that he didn’t have a gift, he wished he was back at the walls, before Mirabel had found him. His eyes close, a deep breath leaving his lips as he presses the jade glass to his chest, he is doom to destroy this family once again.

You, in between his arms, his lips on your neck, your head thrown back and on your finger a ring, the ring that had tied your marriage to his nephew, Camilo. His mind begins to wonder, every touch, every word, every breath you had taken near him; the wedding, he can’t help but think about the wedding, how sad you had looked, how you tried to hide it but at last it had seeped through once your eyes had landed on him. Bound forever but never together because he was never meant to be yours, he would never be yours and you would never be his. He had never seen you that way, at least not at first. Always too preoccupied with prophecies he couldn’t understand, prophecies he couldn’t control, but then you had started to pay more attention to him, talk to him more, accidentally brush your fingers over his during dinners. He started to think back, to think about every touch of your hand, every word of kindness directed his way, every glance you had gifted him with. How could he have been so blind? So blind to never see it before.

He holds the vision tight on his hands, suddenly too aware of time, too aware of destiny and fate and how this one is bound to happen, he wishes he knew exactly how long he had before it destroys him as he is certain it will come true, they always come true. He looks at it again, his eyes fixing on your expression, he shouldn’t feel anything, but suddenly blood rushes through his body, how had he never noticed how beautiful you were, how easy it was to lose oneself looking at you, no wonder Camilo had fallen in love with you. He keeps looking into the glass, the curve of your neck, the angle of your shoulder, he can see his hands digging into the side of your torso, no one had ever looked so lost in pleasure while being with him.

He doesn’t want to destroy it, he doesn’t want to shatter the glass, he wants to cling to it, the only piece of you he will ever have. It concerns him how fast he is suddenly fixing over you, has he always felt this way? Or was the loneliness and pain finally taking its toll on him? He wonders if Camilo knows or suspects anything; the thought dies immediately, of course he doesn’t, he wouldn’t have married you the day prior if he had, and as he recounts every moment correctly in his mind your infatuation with him had begun long before the marriage.

He doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t have anyone to confide this to. He can’t risk it getting out, he can’t risk loosing his family once again as he knows will happen if this information is ever to be known. He is panicking, his breathing is erratic as he takes handfuls of salt and throws it over his shoulder, crossing his fingers and holding his breath until he has successfully walked out of his vision cave. He knocks on wood, once, twice, three times until he can feel the bad luck abandoning his presence. He needs to think, to think on any indication of when this will be, it can’t be more than a week, that’s how long it usually takes for visions of this kind to mature into reality. A week, that’s what he has left with his family. A week before he destroys them once again from the inside out.

The room is dark, light barely filtering through the curtains adorning the windows. You can’t help but shudder once the door closes, nerves wracking your stomach, eating you alive. He is quiet as he enters the room, his eyes anywhere but you, it has been like this since the wedding the day before, he won’t look at you, he won’t speak to you or touch you since the wedding. He hasn’t even tried to initiate any kind of romantic or physical contact, as you would have expected once the reception was over. His eyes wander around, not being able to settle onto anything, his mind seems to be running too fast for him to catch up, he looks desperate, he looks broken in half by a decision he can’t make, he can’t describe what he should do and what he wants to do, all he knows is that he can’t keep this play running when he doesn’t know what line comes next.

“Camilo.” Your voice trembles as it calls for him. His eyes close, a shuddering breath leaving him, his fist clench as you move closer, a hand tentatively reaching out to him, needing to touch him.

“Please,” you beg him, “please tell me what is going on what has happened.” You try, “mi amor, por favor.”

And is the tone of your voice what finally makes him snap, one look at you is enough to make up his mind, he can’t resist you, he can’t say no to you, he can’t keep his eyes from wandering to you any longer, not when you look like that, sculpted by the angels, innocent, pure, divine, even when he knows your mind is so wicked not even the devil would take you in. Because he knows deep within how you will never leave him after tonight, because he is so sure you won’t run, or scream, or ask for explanations, he knows how much you want this, how much you will take, and take and take until you have emptied all he is, and he will gladly give more, more and more until he is nothing but dust. Somehow he doesn’t care, in some way he always knew, he always suspected it, your infatuation with him couldn’t be only kindness, he always knew you would have chosen him over himself if he hadn’t been faster; he doesn’t care anymore what he has to do, who he has to sacrifice if it means you will stay, if it means he will keep you because he would risk everything and everyone for you, and so he gives in, he finally looks you in the eye, his voice barely a whisper but he knows you will hear him.

“Yo se la verdad.” He can see the way you shiver, how your eyes widen, taken aback, you weren’t expecting this, you weren’t expecting him to know. He lifts his hand, he doesn’t want to hear any excuse or explanations you have, he won’t be able to take it.

“I… I don’t care, I don’t care because I can’t lose you, I need you, and I don’t care who or what I have to sacrifice if it means you will stay.” He says, walking over to you, moving closer and closer until he is standing in front of you. “Close your eyes.” Is all he says, lowering his mouth to yours, lips barely brushing, and once he pulls away, once your eyes finally open he is no longer here with you, he is gone, and in his place only his shadow remains, wearing another’s face, glowing emerald eyes starting back at you, and in an unspoken agreement you will give yourself to this man, you will give yourself to him with no questions and no doubts, he will finally be yours, and he doesn’t care what he has to sacrifice for you, as you don’t care that once morning comes he will be gone.

@samanthalightning

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samanthalightning · 2 years

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💖💕

“Hombre y Mujer” Bruno Madrigal x reader

Warning - SMUT MINORS DONT INTERACT.

Authors note: I literally have no excuse or control with the direction this went, I also don’t really like it but alas.

“Come again?” His voice trembles, he is unsure of what his mama just said. A thick swallow expands his throat, the room is silent but he can feel the cloud forming over Pepa’s head.

“ I’m not asking you to marry her if you don’t want to Brunito,” there it is, the soft name he knows she knows weakens him, the one she used to use when she was a kinder woman, when he was only a child. “I am only asking you to please meet her, I won’t force anything upon you, those days are long over mijo.”

“Mama no puedes estar hablando en serio. We just got him back.” Julieta intercepts, trying to reason, she knows her brother is reaching his breaking point, any moment now he would flee to his room and stay there for days on end.

“Please, calma, solo pido que la conosca.” She tries once again, “their situation is rather delicate, their mother died at childbirth, their abuela raised them, she is worried they will be left to fend for themselves, and you mijo, you are unmarried, i just want to look out for you, for the family.”

“Mama just promise me you won’t push it.” Julieta says, taking notice of the way Bruno has stilled on his seat.

Night approaches faster than he would have liked, he is sitting at the table, Mirabel to his left, an open chair to his right where you will be seating soon. His niece squeezes his hand briefly, a reassuring touch; all eyes are on him, everyone is aware of the situation thanks to Dolores who is sending him condescending looks. He had debated whether to look into the future for any outcome regarding you, but he is terrified, terrified of what he will see, he prefers to leave it at that, some things are better left in the dark. Dolores squeaks, a signal to everyone that Abuela and you are fast approaching, the room is tense, even Camilo has refrained from doing any kind of snarky remark or shifts in appearance. He is not sure if they all pity him or fear the wrath of their matriarch if they as so much breathe too harsh.

“Welcome, welcome to our home, to our Casita.” She announces, footsteps now obvious to everybody else; he feels sweat trickling down the back of his neck, his knuckles rasping the wood of his chair as he mumbles lowly. “Knock, knock, knock on wood” before standing up, turning around to face you. It’s the first time he has seen you, with being away for 10 years hiding in the walls and no one liking him in the village are more than enough reasons for him to not visit it often. He can’t deny himself how beautiful you are, your face soft, your fractions gentle and still your eyes hold a storm that not even your kind smile can properly hide.

He manages to not mess up the dinner, to control himself from mumbling too much or trowing salt too often over his shoulder, he knows his family wouldn’t mind, but old habits die hard and he still fears the disapproving eyes of his mama. Your abuela looks his way, her eyes expecting, excited almost, did she really not care you would be given off to “the seer”? The bad omen, the evil eye that haunted the town from his tower as the town used to call him.

He clears his throat, he can feel everyone’s eyes watching him, begging him not to, he can feel his mother’s eyes on him, they are pleading but surprisingly gentle, a look he hasn’t seen in decades; and then he looks at you, you don’t look happy, but you don’t look sad, you just look at him as if your life depended on him and in a way it did, he was about to change it, for the better or for the worst.

“I…”he begins, nerves taking a hold on him, his hands itching to touch the wood, to feel the salt under them, his fingers twitch and he can feel the pressure beginning to build on the back of his neck, he knows something is coming, he can feel the pain beginning to roar the longer he tries to hold it.

“Yes Brunito?” His mother pushes a little, he is about to decline politely, to explain he doesn’t want to seal your fate to his, that you could do much better than him, but as his mouth opens the words that leave it startle even him, they take him by surprise, they freeze him in the spot as his mind struggles to catch up to them, but he can hear his family, he can hear the gasps leaving some and the sigh of relief leaving his mother. He blanks out after that, vaguely aware that you have left and he is supposed to be at the church tomorrow at noon.

The wedding is small, private, only his family attend and your abuela. It’s over faster than he would have imagined. There is not a big celebration after either, no party or people dancing to loud music. There is only a dinner, is quieter than usual, everyone eats, talks, a few questions are asked, you smile kindly at his family, you don’t show any resentment or dislike towards them. You still haven’t talked to him, or looked at him, he can feel the crippling anxiety rising within him, his knuckle keep rasping the chair every 5 minutes as he mutters to himself. Dinner wraps up, a small round of congratulations are offered to you both, and before he knows it he is leading the way to his… your shared bedroom in silence.

The first thing you notice about him is his height; 7 feet frame your ass, he is 5.9 on a good day. He doesn’t look creepy, doesn’t look evil or scary for that matter. If anything he looks like a scared child who is too afraid to look too closely at something in fear they may break it. He fidgets with his hands a lot, his fingers trace over wood more times than what you manage to keep count on. He mutters to himself constantly and you can feel him looking at you from the corner of his eye. Is hard to believe this is the same man the town keeps warning you about. His family is kind, they try at least, to make you feel welcome, Mirabel specially, she is kind and talkative, but you can see the way her words are laced with a promise, she protects her tio, she is making sure you know that. In a way it feels ironic, everyone is congratulating you even if they know this wasn’t an union of choice.

Bruno walks you to the room, the one you will both share, is a silent walk, the night has fallen over and as you approach the seer’s tower his imposing doors growls at you. He doesn’t look anything like the man in that portrait, and as he approaches the door his eyes flash green momentarily, the magic burning behind them. You had never seen this part of casita, but the towns people had always complained how many stairs his room had, that everytime you wanted a vision you would have to climb thousands of them, only to come back disappointed; but to your surprise the room barely has any, perhaps in a different time, when he was a different man the room had contained as many as everyone claimed, but now it barely have a few, they lead to a second floor, where a round giant door resided closed.

The floors are wooden, a dark wood that contrasts with the pale sand color adorning the walls, big green curtains cover the windows, and clocks and hourglasses could be seen almost in every corner, accompanied by bookshelves and rugs, and near the big bed you could spot a bowl of salt, and one of sugar, it seemed to always be on reach for him.

“I-I have a hammock to sleep in. You can take the bed.” He says, gesturing to the corner of the room, where a hammock could be seen tucked in. He doesn’t seem to expect anything out of you, at least not tonight and if anything he seems more nervous and fidgety than you would have imagined.

“It’s okay, I appreciate it.” You try to smile at him but he won’t meet your eyes, mumbling lowly and excusing himself with barely audible whispers as he moves away. And so it begins, a routine you have both settle on. He sleeps on the hammock and you on the bed, and besides a few good morning and good nights you two barely actually talk. The same cannot be said about his family, they have warmed up to you and by this point, almost a month in Camilo feels comfortable enough to shift into your appearance to joke around, and Dolores has decided you are to be her new best friend as you both spend a lot of time together, time you wish you could spend knowing the man who refuses to open up to you, he spends most of his days in company on Mirabel, talking or putting on plays with his rats. He seems normal, too normal, nothing creepy happens around him, no glowing lights or glowing eyes, and apart from his usual habits you can’t say you have seen him use his gift at all.

Is during dinner that night that it happens, he seems out of it, more than usual, his family seems to notice, asking him if he is feeling okay, he has his hood drawn, covering his eyes, he has barely touched his food and everytime you try to look at him he avoids your gaze, and only replies with a soft nod and a quiet whisper about having a headache.

“Bruno.” Pepa warns, what is she warning him about you aren’t sure, but he won’t bulge, as you have come to learn not even Julieta’s food can heal all issues when it comes to their gifts.

“Tio do you want me to help you get to your room?” Mirabel offers softly, sitting next to him, and for no particular known reason your blood boils a little when he replies to her with more than one word. You want the trust he has in her. You want him to open up to you, but you understand, you know this is his family and to him you are still an outsider. And perhaps you will be all your life since he doesn’t seem willing to let you in. Everyone goes back to their conversation, no one pushes him any further and once dinner ends you both part ways, he disappearing off to somewhere in the house and Dolores volunteering you to do dishes with her so she can tell you all about her date with Mariano.

You haven’t heard from him at all when bed time arrives, no one seems to mind and the shyness that comes with asking about him stops you from inquiring. A sick feeling on your stomach begins to settle as you slip into the bed, alone, you wish he would share it with you, that he would open up to you, you don’t dislike him, he is kind, at least you have seen him interact with his nephews and sisters, he tries to be quiet, to not take much space. You only wish he would let you in, to know him, how long would a marriage truly last if you are only strangers. It’s hard to conceal sleep but eventually the tiredness of the day wears you down into a slumber.

Noise awakens you, Bruno is not in the room, there’s voices speaking, almost screaming over one another, you can hear Julieta asking for space and cabinets doors opening and closing. Getting up the bed you quickly open the door, from the hallway is clear something has happened and you push your feet to move forward, to walk down the stairs faster, your heart feels as if it will explode out of your chest as you approach the kitchen, you can see the family gathered around someone and your worst fear comes out to surprise you once you manage to make way only to find Bruno siting in the middle, a gasp leaves your lips as you take on his appearance, tears burning behind your eyes.

His eyes are green, so bright green is blinding to look at, the glow is strong, but you can clearly see the shadow of destroyed blood vessels underneath, his face is pale, and blood is running down his nose, his arms are lifted forward, trying to grasp onto Julieta’s dress. He looks so lost, the terrifying realization that when his eyes glow, he is blind, he can only see his visions but he is blinded to the outside. His panicked expression breaks your heart, feet moving forward on their own accord you end up in front of him, hands finding his hair as you run them through it only to hold on to him and move him forward onto your dress, it doesn’t matter if his blood stains it, you push his face onto it, feeling his arms instantly circle your middle.

“Julieta..” he begins trying to speak but you can tell is taking a lot out of him just to form the sentence.

“Shhh is okay, estas bien, estoy aquí.” You call out today him, trying to comfort him. The sound of your voice makes him tense automatically, he tries to move away but you hold your stance, you hold him to you, your hands moving to his jaw, gently moving his face in the direction of yours.

“Bruno.” He tenses, your tone is firm, reprimanding but soft and devoting. It’s the first time you have said his name out loud. The sound rolls like honey out of your lips.

“Let me be here for you. We are one, we are hombre y mujer.” You remind him. ‘The holiness of marriage’, that holds you both together in sickness and health. He feels you crouch down to his level; he can’t see you but he can feel you moving closer to him. Your hands softly caress his cheeks, pushing the hair out of his face, holding him, never once moving away, never scared of the sight before you. He closes his eyes; they burn so bright you can see them from behind his closed eyelids, and he finally relaxes into your touch.

After he feels strong enough to walk you help him to the room, Julieta and Luisa help you move him, and she explains to you how his visions sometimes can pain him immensely, how he looses control of them when he represses them for too long, it anguish your heart to hear this. Once in the room Bruno tries to move from where Luisa has settled him on the bed, and before he can as so much open his mouth your hand is on his shoulder, pushing him back down, it’s been too long of him sleeping on that hammock, he needs a real bed. He tries to complain, to excuse himself and tell you he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable but you won’t have it, shushing him and telling him to relax, que se esté tranquilo. He knows he won’t win this one, settling back down his eyes toning down, returning to their natural hue as he closes them, his hand rubbing his forehead gently.

The bed dips next to him, shooting anxiety all through his body as he starts to mumble once again, crossing his fingers and holding his breath until you are completely laying in it. You move slowly towards him, turning to face him before listing your hand and softly tangling your fingers on his hair, pushing his head to rest against your neck. His breathing quickens momentarily, your fingers run through his hair, a comfortable silence settles over the room and he finally allows himself to relax enough to move his arms around your frame, his fingers caressing lightly the skin of your waist. He is so quiet you think he most have fallen asleep; you are about to close your eyes and relax into his touch when his voice suddenly breaks through the quietness.

“I was alone for a very long time.” He says. The statement taking you by surprise, this is the first time he has willingly opened up to you. “No one would get close to me, I was the bad omen of the town, the seer, only giving terrible visions and unforgiving destinies.” He continues, his fingers faltering for a moment on their movements.

Your fingers move a little faster, reassuring m him that you are here, that you are listening to him. You feel him breath in before continuing.

“I-I didn’t want to tie you down to my misfortune, I didn’t want you to have to sacrifice your life by marrying me, you know, but I froze, and I couldn’t focus on the words, and once I saw I couldn’t take them back i became terrified, terrified to get close only for you to leave, to leave like they all did.” He concludes and you can feel the way his body shakes, the wetness accumulating on your dress from his tears, and so you treasure it, this moment of weakness, of vulnerability he is gifting you.

“Bruno.” You begin, moving his face slightly upwards to look at you, his glazed over eyes staring at you, waiting for a reprimand or a complain at his over sharing, he is ready for you to tell him how you don’t care about any of this, how you are only by his side because he made the mistake of confusing his words. But it never comes, instead he only sees affection in your eyes, he only sees softness and understanding, he holds his breath, closing his eyes when he feels your hand softly caress his face, your nose coming close to his and rubbing it slightly against his own.

“Tú eres mi futuro amor. I’ll be here, ready for you, whenever you want to open up, whenever you need someone.” You whisper to him, taking in the way his eyes widen, and his grip on you hardens. His eyes move to your lips before quickly looking up to meets yours again, his hands softening on you before squeezing again.

“Can I…” he begins unsure of how to proceed before you nod in affirmation, his lips moving softly to graze yours while his eyes close, your hand moves back over his hair, pulling him to you before closing the space completely, crashing your lips with his, feeling his breathing change pace as he moves closer.

His lips are soft, the stubble along his lips tickling your skin. Your hands move across his hair, tangling themselves on his curls, pulling slightly and you can hear him hiss. Your lips parting, allowing him access to explore further. He surprises you, you wouldn’t have thought he would be such a good kisser, his teeth nibbling your lips lightly. Your hand trails down his back, pulling the fabric of his ruana up, trying to get it off him, he doesn’t mind, allowing you to remove it, sitting himself up and allowing you to straddle him, a blush covers his face when he sees your hands moving to the hem of your dress, moving it up and leaving you bare to his eyes.

He gets nervous, shying away and placing his hands on your waist, his eyes focus on your face, he refuse to move them from there.

“You don’t need my permission to look.” You offer him, trying to ease some of the nerves off of him. Hesitantly he complies, trailing his eyes down, you can see the blush spread through his cheeks, his hands trembling as he moves them over the soft skin of your back, burning your skin on their wake. You lean forward, capturing his mouth once again in a kiss, playing with the button of his shirt, giving him enough time to stop you if he doesn’t feel ready, but he doesn’t, he allows you to remove it completely. Your fingers trace his chest, feeling the subtle salt and pepper trail of hair that adorns it before moving up to trace his shoulders, feeling them and moving your hands over his back. The muscles pulling taunt at the attention.

He looks at you, studying your face as you study him in silence, as you trace every fragment of skin you can reach.

“Eres tan hermoso.” You whisper against his lips. His face turns a deeper shade of red and you can feel the reaction your compliment has on him immediately, the bulge in his pants painfully pressing against your center.

You move your hips slightly, experimentally, feeling for a reaction out of him. He whimpers, tightening his hold on you before dipping forward and hiding his face on your neck, planting soft kisses there as he begs for you to do it again. A quiet moan escapes you, the friction building up wetness between your legs and you can feel him becoming more confident as he nips at your neck, his hands moving slowly around you to feel up your chest.

“Y/n” he calls out to you, he sounds broken, desperate, and you remove yourself from him, allowing him space to remove his pants, his eyes are cloudy, a light green hue taking over them, his mind fogged over by the comfort you bring him.

“Bruno” you tease, “ tocame cariño” you moan out for him.

A groan escapes him as his hands move up your leg, feeling the soft skin of your thigh. He feels nervous, unsure, his insecurities prickling at the back of his mind, making him doubt himself; but you take notice of this, moving your own hand over his leg, reaching the pulsing member resting against his stomach. He jumps when your hands touch him, a whine escaping him when your finger wrap themselves around him, giving an experimental stroke, making him throw his head back, his mouth opening slightly as a moan escapes him. Your mouth trails kisses along his jaw, biting softly at the skin of his neck as your hands speeds up its movements, but he quickly stops you, his hand moving to grab your wrist.

“Si sigues así me voy a venir.” He says, face flush red and eyes half lidded.

“We don’t have to do more than this today…” you begin to say before he interrupts you.

“I want to feel you.” He says, his eyes glowing green at the idea, he tries to close them but your reassuring touch distracts him enough to forget about that aspect.

Your hand moves to his arm, pulling him over you to the bed, laying back with him over you, your legs parted, allowing him space to be in the middle. You are aware this won’t last long, you doubt he has had a partner in decades, but the satisfaction of seeing him so undone is more than reward enough.

Grabbing his hand in yours, you guide his fingers up the inside of your thigh, closing your eyes as they get closer to your core. You feel him suck in a breath when they reach your folds, feeling the wetness collected there and you guide his fingers over the area before removing them, your eyes focusing on his face. He dips his face down, looking in the direction of his hand on you, seeing the way his fingers work on you, snapping his head back to yours when a soft moan escapes you, making his cock pulse painfully. He repeats the movement, pressing his finger harder as he moves it slowly over your bundle of nerves, watching you as soft whimpers and moans escape you. You can feel his middle and ring finger gracing your dripping hole, adding to the sensation building up from his attentions in your clit. You can feel your orgasm fast approaching as you dig your nails on his forearm.

“Bruno…” you moan softly his name, feeling him throb against your leg at the mention.

“Vente cariño, dejame sentirte.” You don’t think you have ever heard anything more erotic than his voice in this moment, this surge of confidence he is feeling at the reactions he is managing to get out of you are a treasure you want to hold onto forever.

“No.. amor, quiero venirme alrededor de ti.” The simple phrase sends him in a frenzy, removing his fingers as a groan escapes him, moving himself over you, kissing you before aligning himself with you, he is so painfully hard; a long moan escaping him when the head of his cock pushes past your lips into your fluttering hole, the sensation making you mumble incoherent words as your nails dig into his arms.

He closes his eyes, needing to take a moment to breathe before continuing, groaning as he finally burries himself inside of you.

“Estas tan apretada.” He grunts out against the skin of your neck before kissing it softly.

“Move please, I need you.” You beg him, your voice higher than usual, your forehead sweaty and your cheeks flush, the stretch of him feels delirious and you can’t wait to know what it will feel like having him ramming into you with all he has.

Your wish is his command as he moves his hips back, pushing them forward, his eyes roll to the back of his head as pleasure shoots up on him. He settles into a rythm, deep, fast thrusts that leave you breathless, the building pressure behind in your lower abdomen intensifying with every push of his cock into you, his face is the pure expression of pleasure, his eyes glowing, half lidded and his mouth opens, lewd sounds he wasn’t aware he was capable of making escaping him as he burries is face on your neck.

“No pares amor.” You manage to chock out, feeling your orgasm about to explode.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, dejame sentirte cariño.” He grunts out against your skin and those words are enough to send you over the edge, your walls tightening around him, a high pitch moan escaping you as your legs lock around his back. The feeling of your fluttering walls around him push him further into madness, tangling his hands on your hair he sucks a mark on your neck, before pressing himself impossibly closer into your body and speeding up his thrust, unrelenting his pace as moans and grunts escape him, feeling himself closer and close until the pressure building in his core snaps, making his movements sloppiest as he spills inside of you.

“Are you okay?” He asks once his breathing normalizes, his usual fidgety self is back, the anxiety of his performance now taking over him.

You nod at him, a lazy smile playing on your lips as you pull him closer to you.

“I have never been better mi amor.” You mumble out to him, kissing him softly, tangling your fingers on his before squeezing his hands. Accommodating him on your chest your fingers find his hair, playing with the strands as you lure him to sleep and for the first time in decades he falls asleep faster than he remembers, no thoughts plaguing his mind, only you.

@samanthalightning

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