#*BRAIN**** <-SEE?? i Dont think i have to explain any further how his name is a Nightmare for people like me who | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

no-droids · 4 years

Text

Brown Eyes

Part Nine of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10.1K dont. just dont

Warnings: Smut, AS ALWAYS. Canon typical violence, verbal references masochism/pain kink (NOT ACTUALLY EXPLORED IN THIS CHAPTER MY DUDES, JUST HINTED AT/DISCUSSED), slight degradation, exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, a bit of ass play (!!!), FLUUUUFFFFFF

***

“What?”

“Hm?”

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“What’s the hold up?”

“I’m just…” The helmet looks you up and down, considering. You scrunch your nose at him and rock back and forth on your feet impatiently as he sighs. “It’s going to be like teaching a foundling to read. I’m just trying to figure out where to even begin.”

“Because it’s so fucking pretty here, I’m just going to pretend you didn’t say that,” you say pointedly, looking around at the vast field of flowing grass surrounding the two of you and breathing in the warm, fresh air into your lungs. “Your vibe is clashing, Din.”

“Because I don’t really know what that means, I’m also going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he returns, and the child’s giggles float up alongside the breeze as he chases after another, slightly smaller green reptile that you also currently have no name for. He tilts the beskar thoughtfully at you, and you squint against the way the sun catches the visor directly in your eyes from this angle. “What do you want to learn first?”

“I want to shoot a gun,” you blurt without thinking.

“Okay, hand-to-hand it is,” he nods firmly, and then pats his unarmored chest with one bare hand. “Hit me.”

You blink down at the dark fabric stretched across his left pectoral, and then back up at the metallic visor staring back at you.

“Hit me,” he says again in response to your silence. “Hard as you can. Right here.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, lifting your gaze up to him once more with a twist of your mouth, already out of your comfort zone. “What if I hurt you?”

“Are you fucking kidding?” He actually sounds… pissed off. “Hit me.”

You immediately shove your hand up against his chest in response to the sharp order, and your palm makes a quiet slapping sound as it collides with what feels like solid rock concealed underneath black fabric.

Din says absolutely nothing. Almost a… forced silence. Like what he wants to say will very likely be vaguely mean and dismissive of your feelings, so he’s keeping his mouth firmly shut under the helmet. He just pats his chest again, each one purposeful and distinct, easily making twice the amount of noise hitting himself as you did hitting him.

You ball your fist up this time and whack him with it, considerably harder this time and even making a solid thud against his pectoral, though he doesn’t even move a fraction under the blow.

“I am…” he tries to choose his words carefully after another moment of purposeful silence. “…insulted.”

You grit your teeth and raise your arm up and back, swinging it out at him as hard as you physically can, but then the curve of his broad shoulder suddenly jerks back just before you can touch him and your fist is caught from the side with a gentle grip.

“Better. You wound up that time, that gives you momentum. But never come at someone like this,” he tells you, lifting your arm back up to the way it was before and then slowly hinging it down again against his chest. “This is how you were going to hit. See how your pinkie is taking the brunt of the punch when you come down at it from an angle like this?” He pushes your fist against his chest a few times to demonstrate your pinkie squishing against the solid plane of muscle. “No matter how hard you hit me, your hand is going to take that much force, too. That attempt had about half the power you want, but you might’ve broken your finger if I let you make contact like that.”

“Half the power?” You narrow your eyebrows at him. “You’ll break my whole hand.”

Din angles your wrist straight and pushes your closed fist against his chest again, this time head-on instead of at a downward angle. “Always try to use these first two knuckles to reinforce against the impact, they’re the strongest and best aligned with the bones in your wrist. You should also physically brace yourself for it. Flex your arm—create as much rigidity around your joints as you can, keep your fist clenched tight to maintain integrity of the soft tissues in your hand, and your body should protect itself against the blowback as long as you land right. Try again.”

You diligently wind your fist up again and then go to snap your arm straight forward this time, but he steps up and catches your elbow before you can even move. “Wait. Look at this—see this chicken wing?” He flaps your elbow back and forth while his other hand holds your fist in place next to your head. “This is no good, this is where you’re losing half your power. And having your arm up like this is making you open to rib and kidney shots.”

You squirm to the side when he taps the bend of his knuckle against your kidney, and the vulnerable spot is tender even though he barely uses any force. “I’m winding up,” you inform him with a huff.

“You are,” Din acknowledges. “But your movement is limited like this. See where your elbow is compared to your center of gravity?” He flaps it again, and your shoulder pulls uncomfortably when he pushes it back just a bit too far. “You’re restricting yourself, look. Your shoulder is in the way, this is as far as your body will let you go. You’re also using up too much energy trying to swing your whole arm around just to make contact; it’s sloppy technique, it slows you down, and it’ll tire you out. But, if you wind up like this—” Din lowers your elbow until it rests flat against your side, and then hinges it backwards instead of up near your head, “—see how much further away your elbow is from your body now? Instead of swinging outwards, think of a slingshot forwards. Use explosive, forward momentum that you generate from your shoulder—you’re aiming for a sharp, streamlined jab. This way you conserve energy, produce twice as much power, and your arm now covers up all this important stuff under here,” he explains, trying to tap his knuckle against your side once more but being blocked by your forearm. “Good? Now go again.”

He lets you go and steps back, and this time you instinctually plant your foot behind you to give you a solid base foundation that’ll allow you more room to twist, your physics brain lighting up as soon as he said slingshot. His helmet quickly drops to your stance and then immediately lifts back up to your face again.

You do exactly as he said—you wind back, keeping your arm tucked tight to your side, and then explode forward with a sharp spin of your shoulder and snap of your elbow, colliding your clenched fist into his chest as hard as you possibly can.

He grunts and takes two steps back.

You howl.

“FUUUUUCK!” It gets lost in the giant field of grass as you clutch your fist, torn between cradling it to your chest like a baby and shaking it out violently at your side like… something distinctly not a baby. You settle for just bending over and holding it tightly to your stomach, eyes clamped shut and screeching with such fervor that the back of your throat stings sharp with it. “WHAT THE FUCKING—FUCKFUCKFUCK—!?”

“Good!” Din encourages over your wailing. “That was good! How’d that feel? Holy shit—that felt good.”

“What’s the point of hitting you when it hurts me and makes you feel good!?” You cry out over your shoulder, somewhere between genuine hatred and agony.

“That was perfect,” he tells you immediately, almost sounding vaguely… out of breath behind you? “Don’t change a thing—that’s how you punch every single time from now on, okay? That’s how hard you hit. Fuck, that felt fucking good.”

The… something in his voice is enough to take your mind off your throbbing hand for just a second, quickly snapping upright and whirling around to face him with your eyebrows very, very narrowed. He stands there in front of you and you continue to eye him with as much silent skepticism as you can express, until the both of you speak at the same time.

“What was that?”

“Let’s go again.”

Neither of you move, and you feel like your face is scrunched up as tiny as possible at him right now with dubiousness.

“Let’s go again,” Din suddenly grunts out, hooking an arm around your elbow and tugging you to face forward once more.

“Did that turn you on?” You ask him bluntly, your battle wound completely forgotten by your side.

“I swear if you don’t—”

“You get hard when you get hurt?” You ask dumbly, all sorts of lightbulbs suddenly illuminating in dusty, cobwebbed corners of your mind. Maker, that would explain so much. “Is that why you wanted a handjob immediately after I burned a knife wound shut on your back?”

“You wanna learn how to punch today or you wanna learn how to block?” Comes through the helmet, thoroughly unamused at your antics, but you just break into a mischievous little grin in response and push just one more button of his, knowing he’s only mostly joking.

“I’ll punch you,” you purr. “Hold your arms up, show me your ribs.”

There’s a split second of silence before he quickly snaps his fist to his chest once again, oh, but it’s enough. Your shoulders do a little victory shimmy and have to bite your lip to keep from beaming at him, so unbelievably proud of yourself for being able to read him this well without seeing his face.

But—for the very same reason, you also plant your foot behind you and wind your arm back once more, knowing you were already treading on thin ice.

“Am I gonna have to start calling you chicken wing?” Din suddenly barks out, a split second into your forward launch. You almost stumble into him with all the generated momentum and catch yourself just in time, eventually stepping back and resetting with a frustrated huff. Purposefully tucking your arm tight into your side, you pull back once more.

He mmphs when you make equally hard contact in the very same spot but he doesn’t move this time, and you somehow forgot how horribly painful it is to slam your clenched fist directly against a solid object with all your strength—much less, the second time around. You attempt to deaden your response as well, but he has the luxury of the helmet to shield his face. Silencing your scream just makes yours contort unattractively in front of him while your eyes clamp shut and you clutch your wrist, trying to bite back the crippling pain.

“Other hand—use the other hand instead,” he tells you quickly. “You have two of them.”

“I used to!” You snarl through the way you can’t even flex it anymore, how your muscles aren’t working through the angry sparks of acute sensation jumping down your fingers. “Your stupid fucking pecs just broke my good one!”

“Want me to kiss it?” Din asks—quickly, almost like he can’t help himself, and the snarky tone of it through the modulator coupled with the throbbing pain makes you grit your teeth.

“I used to love your body,” you lift your head and growl up at him while you cradle your swollen claw. “Why did you take that from me?”

“Give me your hand,” he says calmly, holding his palm out for you.

“No,” you spit, the pain making you stubborn and resistant to anything you don’t immediately offer yourself, but he’s not impressed. Din easily catches your elbow and brings it up, his other hand gently lacing through your fingers even as you try in vain to pull it away. “Stop it—”

He completely ignores you and looks back over his shoulder at the kid, dwarfed by the tall grass and continuing to hop around behind what will likely be his lunch, before the helmet turns back to you. “Eyes closed.”

“This isn’t fucking funn—”

“Close your eyes,” he tells you once more. “Don’t open them.”

You take a deep breath and grind your teeth, not wanting to be treated like a baby. It irks you that he’s dedicating so much time and effort into just infantilizing you and your very real pain. Though, the pain is so real that it makes it almost impossible to express the sentiment—it comes out sounding childishly short and bratty. “It hurts.”

“I know,” is all he says, soft and lilting and quite possibly as gentle as you’ve ever heard him. “Close your eyes, sweet girl.”

His tone of voice is the only thing that compels you to listen. You finally do as he says and flutter your eyes shut, overly aware of the hard grimace on your face now that you can’t see anything. One of his hands releases you while keeping your numb fingers laced between his, and then a few seconds pass, before you suddenly feel soft lips pressing against your knuckle.

You hiss and tighten up on instinct, more in fear of the pain than the pain itself, but he holds your hand steady as he carefully trails gentle presses of his lips against your knuckles. After a moment, you breathe out shakily, your eyebrows lifting just slightly at the sensation—before his mouth opens and his warm tongue glides delicately across your sensitive skin.

You gasp and your fingers twitch in between his, suddenly able to move again. They knock against cool metal as his tongue slowly drags down the valleys between your knuckles—but then Din abruptly drops your hand at the sudden sound of sunshine giggles coming from afar. Your eyes pop open just as his helmet is yanked down over his jaw once more.

“Let’s…” He clears his throat through the modulator, taking a small step back. “Let’s go again.”

***

You collapse down into a pitiful little pile on the grass, trying to catch your breath. This is ridiculous. You somehow have tender bruises all over your body and yet you’re the only one who’s done any sort of hitting whatsoever.

“That’s fine, we can take a break,” Din says gruffly from above you, but you’re too tired to even comment on the sarcasm. You just groan, flopping down flat on your back while he sits in the grass next to you and silently waits for you to start breathing normally again.

“I hate this,” you pant, resting your numb hands against your forehead and squinting against the late afternoon sun. “I don’t like this. My body hurts and I barely did anything.”

“You’re good at it,” Din is quick to respond, and the blunt sincerity in his voice takes you aback, making you glance over at him in shock. “I know,” he nods once the beskar turns and he sees the look on your face, “I didn’t expect it either.”

His tendency to compliment you while simultaneously insulting you doesn’t go unnoticed, but if anything, you decide to take it as a testament to his honesty and comfort in your presence. Clearly he’d have no issue telling you if you were terrible at this.

Instead of responding, you lace your fingers behind your head and continue to just lay there, closing your eyes against the warm sunshine. It’s gorgeous here, you get why this planet is renown throughout the galaxy. Perfect weather, stunningly green rolling hills for miles, the gentle breeze dancing through the tall grass, brilliant white clouds suspended against a beautiful blue backdrop. The only thing that’s missing is—

“When can we go see the ocean?” You blurt up at the sky, unable to stop the words before they’re out of your mouth.

“What ocean?” Comes tiredly through the modulator, monotone and filtered as he shuffles into a more comfortable position.

“Any of them,” you immediately respond, shrugging your shoulders against the grass. “The closest one. I’m not picky.”

“…Naboo doesn’t have any oceans,” Din tells you blankly.

You startle slightly, jerking your head over at him. “What? But—but I saw it through the transparisteel when we dropped. This whole planet is practically covered in water.”

“It is,” he agrees with a tilt of his helmet, following you with the visor as you finally scramble to sit yourself upright. “But it’s all one big… body of water. Locals call it the Abyss, it stretches across the entire planet through a system of underground caves and tunnels. It only surfaces as rivers and lakes and swamplands, though. No ocean. Not really.”

“Oh.” It’s blank, but it’s… lacking. The sun glinting against metal gives you an excuse to subtly turn your head away from him, and you hold back your sigh of disappointment.

“What’s the matter?” He grunts after a moment, somehow succeeding in sounding mildly disinterested while still bothering to ask. He props his knee upright to rest his elbow on it, apparently able to read you better than ever as well.

“Nothing,” you say on instinct and shake your head, already knowing it’s dumb. You’re being dumb, there’ll be other planets with oceans—you just haven’t had the opportunity to go to one yet.

Din doesn’t say anything after that, but he also keeps the helmet subtly turned towards you, like he’s just… waiting. The quiet almost doesn’t sound quiet anymore, not when there’s such a loud unspoken question still lingering in it.

“It’s just,” you say after a moment, trying to smile, but it doesn’t feel real. It’s nothing more than a movement your mouth makes and it feels at odds with the mild disappointment you’re trying to hide. “I used to be a moisture farmer. Back on Arvala-7, where we first met.”

His continued silence tells you nothing. You don’t know whether he’s confused and you should elaborate, whether he understands and doesn’t need an explanation, whether he’s interested or disinterested. Nothing. So after another few more seconds of nothing, you decide to keep going.

“There's something about water that just… hits different when you spend your entire life on a planet without any,” you say quietly, picking at a few blades of grass by your knees instead of looking at him. “When I was a little girl, I used to think it was as rare in the rest of the galaxy as it was where I was born. A limited resource you had to farm from the atmosphere to drink, because it didn’t occur naturally in liquid form. It was… valuable. Delicate. Crystal clear—never saw more than a few dozen gallons of it at a time. Something to be cherished. Something you’d never want to waste even just dipping your hand into, because the dirt on your skin would contaminate it.”

You smile once more, but this time it feels a little bit better. “You know… the first shower I took on the Crest the day I left that Maker-forsaken planet was the first time I ever felt my hair get wet. We only ever had sonic showers on Arvala-7.” And stars, the memory of it makes you want to shudder. Ultrasonic waves vibrating the dirt and sweat off your body sounds a lot more thorough than it actually is. You never felt truly clean until you were soaking wet on the Crest with shampoo in your hair, giggling like a child in the fresher while you made yourself a soapy little beard.

It springboards into another memory—the moment you first reached for a towel after showering, catching a glimpse of your hands and startling at the sight of your wrinkled, pruny fingertips. You’d never heard of such a phenomena before that point. You thought you’d asked Kuiil about everything, but to be entirely fair, he might not have even realized it happened, not from the leathery texture of his xenospecies’ skin. The questions he did answer for you were plenty though, and you suddenly remember something he said to you years ago that was so jarring and unexpected that it’s stuck with you to this day.

“Kuiil told me once that water was loud,” you suddenly hear yourself say, and though your soft laugh is nostalgic and sincere, you don’t know why, but you instantly tear up as soon as the words leave your mouth. “Loud. How could—could water be loud? What… what noise would it make?”

You sniff and continue to pick at the grass, a bit more vigorously this time, purposefully keeping your eyes down and blinking quickly. “He said… he said streams and brooks… b-bubble. They bubble. And rain… rain is like static—like white noise, but… natural. Not generated by a machine. He said the ocean is the loudest, though. It roars. It’s powerful.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat and glancing up, you try to distract yourself from the memory of your close friend by looking out at the wavy grass, trying to see if you can spot the kid being dwarfed by it. You can’t, not from this low angle, but you can still hear him playing happily in the distance.

“I’ve seen all the others now, thanks to you,” you confess quietly. “Rain, rivers, lakes—but I always wanted to see an ocean. A big, scary one, where the sound would just be… deafening. Water, tons of it, crashing up against rocks and filling the air with mist. Used to dream about them. Wanted to see something I used to think was rare fill my entire field of view. Wanted to see something I always thought was precious turn into something formidable.”

Din continues staring silently at you through your peripheral while you keep picking at the grass absently.

“I just—I don’t know.” You finally look over at him and sigh, smiling softly and shrugging your shoulders. “I just always dreamed of a place where I could go, a place where I could open my eyes and all I’d be able to see—all I could hear—was water.”

You stop talking after that, having run out of things to say and realizing you probably shared a little too much without ever being prompted. The sunlight is gentle and easy, however, and it encourages you to close your eyes and just breathe, letting silent, eternal gratitude to the man next to you fill you. You’d never know any sun that isn’t harsh, you’d never know the greenness of the tall grass in this sprawling field had he not found you, given you a chance to tag along the galaxy with him and his carnivorous little sidekick.

The sun begins making you sleepy the more you sit here in the middle of paradise, eyes closed and tasting the gorgeous air in your lungs. But eventually, Din stands up and steps in front of you, opening both of his bare palms towards the setting sky and bouncing them up and down a few times. “Up. Come on. I’ll teach you how to throw an uppercut before nightfall.”

You groan but lift your hands in his direction all the same, trying not to wince while you make grabby fingers at him, your knuckles slightly bruised and red. He sighs and wraps his hands purposefully around your elbows, urging you up as he takes a few steps backwards.

It’s awkward. You’re still feeling lazy and droopy-eyed, and the cool shadow he casts makes you even more sleepy. You think he’s going to help more than you have to pull yourself up, and he clearly thinks he’s there to be your platform instead of your forklift. What results is just you being dragged uselessly by your arms in front of him, until your torso and legs are stretched in an uncomfortable J-shape on the ground and your forehead bumps into his lower tummy.

He stops and holds you there, before grunting out, “Use your feet.”

“Just let me fall,” you tell him, your lips brushing against the dark fabric while your shoulders and spine pull tight at this angle. “Just leave me here like this.”

The sigh he makes above you feels like he puts his whole entire being into it. Din leaves you propped up against him for a second while he grumbles and readjusts his hold further up near your shoulders, before he maneuvers you until you’re gently settling down on your knees in the grass.

You think (hope) he’s going to release you and let you take a nap, but then you gasp when he shifts and the toe of his boot suddenly wedges itself between your closed thighs. He lifts up on your arms just slightly, enough to take the weight off your knees so he can swipe his foot out and kick one of them open, before plopping you back down again and letting you go.

Up until that point, you’d been good. You were content with being boneless for him and seeing how he’d deal, but then he gracefully crouches down in front of you and wraps one powerful arm around your back, hugging you tight to his chest. Din’s open thighs frame your kneeling figure and you can feel his cock pressed against your tummy from this angle, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

For some reason, he decides to take this next part slow. Maybe it’s because he can probably feel the way your heart is starting to kick up against his unarmored chest right now, but he drags it out. Broad shoulder dropping and his helmet finding a home in the crook of your neck, Din braces you to his chest with one arm while the other slithers down the curve of your ass and then under—his forearm pressing firmly between your cheeks and then his open palm flattening tight along the length of your pussy from behind.

You moan softly next to the helmet while he works the thick muscles in his thighs to gradually lift you both from the ground. Maker, the tips of his fingers are curved hard against your slit through your pants while he rises, pulling you up until gravity causes your thighs to slowly meet around his hand and your legs to dangle.

The feat of strength turns you on just as much as his choice of positioning does. Fuck, you know you’re not the lightest person in the galaxy, but Din carefully sets you down on your feet without even so much as a grunt of effort, his hand staying tucked tight between your legs for longer than necessary. Biting your lip and pressing your face into his shoulder does nothing to stop the quiet whimper you make when he decides to grind his strong fingers up into you just a bit.

“Din,” you whisper, wanting to melt into him, but then he’s instantly ripping his hand away and taking a step back.

You nearly fall over at the sudden lack of support after relying solely on him for it for so long, but you don’t even have enough time to open your mouth in upset. There’s just a split second before a green blur bursts through the tall grass with a squeal and trips over the baggy potato sack around his body.

It’s like it happens in slow motion. You both watch as he flies forward, skidding more than once on the ground and then landing face-down on your shoe, the little thump on your foot feeling so adorably anticlimactic after all the buildup.

Nobody moves for a second, except for the way your eyes flicker up at the visor currently tilted towards the ground. You can tell Din is just holding his breath, just waiting to see if—

A hiccup. You see broad shoulders tighten under the dark fabric, and then a sudden piercing wail is released against your shoe.

“Shit,” Din curses, already scooping the little thing up and bouncing him slightly to pacify him. You bite your lip against the way his ears flop from the movement and he screams even louder. “Hey hey hey, stop. Stop it. Stop crying.”

“Uh oh! Where’d your little friend go?” You ask while Din immediately turns the kid around to face you, your voice pitched soft and high in your register as you step closer. “Did you eat him already?”

He just shudders out a cry, probably an affirmative, his mouth dropping and his little teeth peeking through while he sobs and his giant eyes well with tears.

“Shit,” Din curses again, this time in defeat, but you won’t give up that easy.

“Hey—hey goose, wanna see me beat your daddy up?” You ask, lightly booping the little bump of his nose. “Huh? Wanna see me fight?” You pull your top lip up into a ridiculous little snarl and flex your arms threateningly, and the sobs suddenly stutter to a stop within a few breaths. “Op, yep. See—he knows I’ll kick your ass, Din, he just got scared.”

“Please,” the modulator pfftts quietly, but the kid just blinks at you while you keep growling.

“I’ll hurt him real bad,” you promise him, putting your fists up in front of you and bouncing your weight back and forth like a prized boxing champ. “I’ll, uh…” your list of trash talk repertoire is admittedly rather short, and both of them wait in silence for you to figure it out, the bigger one a lot less entertained than his miniature counterpart. “I’ll punch him just. So hard. So hard that… it’ll bruise. Yeah—I’ll make him bleed underneath his skin.”

“No, this is good, keep going,” Din encourages after a moment of awkward silence. “Maybe you’ll be able to find your way there at some point.”

You ignore him, bobbing and ducking and then popping him one good in the shoulder with an accompanying vocal sound effect—except you quickly jerk your hand away and shake your wrist out, staring up at the helmet like he deeply offended you and mouthing, “Ow.”

A smile. The smallest ghost of one, but you see it on the kid’s teeny green mouth when you flick your eyes down to him.

So, Din spends the rest of the lingering daylight teaching you the proper uppercut technique while he cradles an adorable little bug-eyed baby in one arm. You keep making faces at him while throwing your fist up against his dad’s extended, downturned palm, until he finally starts giggling again.

***

Whelp, turns out you’re a fucking idiot. Or maybe just a selfish bitch, either way. Not a good look.

You thought, from the way the lovely afternoon went, that you were getting better at reading Din. Knowing when to joke around, when to keep pushing, and when to stop talking, all from just his body posture and tone of voice alone. But you’re also an idiot, as you’ve already established.

As you three headed back to the Crest through the dusky twilight evening, you remember telling Din that if there weren’t any oceans on Naboo, then you’ll at least be able to sleep in a bed on this planet. A real one, one with a—oh stars, an actual mattress. The word alone sent shivers down your spine, and the baby cooed while blinking his eyes slowly, well on his way to being tuckered out from the long day outside.

You don’t remember Din directly responding, but then again, that isn’t really all that rare in the grand scheme. Granted, he was arguably more talkative today than ever before, and he did get a little bit quieter after that, but still, you couldn’t have known. Only an incredibly hyper-observant person would’ve noticed in the moment—you’re lucky you can even recall this much in hindsight.

Though, this next part should’ve been more of a direct giveaway. Once you were in the Crest, he put his armor back on.

You still didn’t think. It’s such a normal thing, the beskar fitting tight to magnetic plates around his shoulders, thighs, and chest. It’s normal, he wears it all the time. Having him walking around in broad daylight sans armor and gloves today was odd, that was the outlier.

He flew the vessel to the nearest town, a quaint little village on the edge of a gorgeously full forest. The ride was as gentle as possible—you were feeling soft and decided to hold the baby as he drifted off instead of placing him in the quiet darkness of his cradle. The ears tend to make things a bit awkward, but after months of practice with it, you’re now a pro at rocking the little guy to sleep in your arms.

Din’s continued silence didn’t bother you—or really even register, considering you were trying to be quiet as well. He slung your go-bag around his shoulder and pressed a few buttons on his vambrace to set the kid’s sphere protocols to follow behind him, before pressing a gloved palm to your lower back and leading you down the ramp, the sleepy baby tucked tight into your arms.

There were people in the village mingling while you three walked down the cobblestone path to the nearest inn, giving your ragtag group double-takes as you passed. The innkeeper, however, was blind. Not only did you not receive the same terrified courtesy the barkeep on Canto Bight had afforded you before, but he was clearly used to spotting and swindling newcomers, sightless or not.

“Only room left’s a suite,” he drawled, the cloudy whites of his pupils hovering just between your left shoulder and Mando’s right pauldron. “Five hundred credits a night.”

The color drained from your face, your heart doing a giant flip in your chest and completely fucking up the landing. You turned to Mando to reassure him that absolutely nothing about this was necessary, but he was already dropping the ridiculous amount of credits on the desk without a single word.

That should’ve been the nail in the coffin, to be honest. His immediate willingness to hand over that many credits without the slightest protest, grumble, or sigh was the kicker—that’s how you should’ve known something wasn’t right. He didn’t even allow you to split the cost when you offered to reimburse him on the way to the room.

But again. You’re an idiot, so.

At least the suite is gorgeous. Slightly old-fashioned and moonlit enough to skip even flicking the lights on, illuminated by large open windows with views of the village streets and sprawling mountains and forest beyond. Everything inside is either cream or white, so clean and soft, and being able to feel the breeze billowing through the gauzy curtains is just. After months of traveling in that enclosed ship, it’s restorative. Almost nothing in here is made of metal.

So it’s not until right now—almost immediately after you settled the kid down into the incredibly large guest bed and walked into the master bedroom to find Mando sitting perfectly still on the edge of the mattress—now something feels off. He looks so out of place as you quietly snap the door shut behind you. The enormous floor to ceiling window decorating the far side of the room bathes him in pale light, highlights the blaster marks and bits of dirt clinging to the beskar as he sits on the bed.

“You’re going to get the sheets all dirty,” you, an idiot, tell him, your voice barely above a murmur. “Take off your—”

“I can’t,” he rushes, though he jumps up from the mattress all the same. You snap your mouth shut and freeze. “It’s safe here but it’s… it’s still not a good idea, not if I want to sleep. Not with people around, and all these… windows.”

The words send you reeling. You had no idea, you thought… “Oh. I’m sorry, that—”

You immediately go silent, feeling absolutely fucking awful. You didn’t think. All you could think about was that bed underneath you, and you maybe… blindfolded in some way? And then of course, him, in it—completely naked, helmet off, and laying next to you.

“You’re okay,” Mando tells you with a shrug, not sounding like… anything. He looks like he’s about to say something else—his chestplate lifts with an inhale as he turns to you, but then seems to stop right as he’s about to speak.

“Shit—please sit on the bed, I don’t care if you’re dirty,” you quickly say, just as he blurts out, “You can still take your clothes off though.”

You blink at him for a second, not sure you heard him right. “…What did y—”

“You can, uh.” His voice is soft. “I can… lay down. On top of the sheets. In my armor, just like this, and then you can take your clothes off and just. Rub up on me a little bit. If you want.”

A shudder quite suddenly rockets down your spine at the tone of his voice, the quiet, slightly hesitant murmur through the modulator. The gulp you take is audible through the room, the only other sound being the closest trees rustling in the breeze outside. The spread curtains dance with it, but they’re too sheer and light to make a noise. “O-Okay.”

“Yeah?” He asks lowly, and you quickly nod.

“Yeah,” you whisper, your body beginning to tingle, “sit—sit back down.”

He goes to move but then abruptly stops, and you hold your breath while you watch the visor jerk just a fraction to pin you in place. Something instantly feels… different about him, a silent shift taking place within just a singular moment. Like he all of a sudden realized that he didn’t actually like that very much.

Instead of acquiescing, Mando slowly steps in front of you, straightening up to his full height and absolutely dwarfing you with it, and your palms start to sweat. Maker, when he speaks, it sends shivers down your body and the last thing you hear in his voice is hesitation.

“Take off your clothes,” he tells you, a dangerous edge to his soft tone. The quiet dominance in it feels like the floor beneath you rumbles from it.

On instinct, your eyes flick over his shoulder to the open window and the village outside. It’s barely been a few hours since sundown—townspeople are strolling down winding streets in the distance, ghostly moonlight mixes with the warm glow from large oil lamps lining the pubs and street corners.

You look back at him barely a split second later as he stands there in front of you, waiting.

You startle and immediately move to grab at the hem of your shirt, and your fingers unintentionally tremble as they start to pull it up.

“Stop.”

His voice breaks through the silence, the modulated order halting your movements immediately. You blink up at him, letting your shirt drop back down again, and Mando takes a second to look back at you, studying you from under the beskar.

“Go stand by the window,” he suddenly says, lazily tilting the helmet to gesture at it.

Your blood pounds in your ears during the still moments following, the thrill of it making you nearly go deaf for a second. After you recover from the visceral heatwave that rockets through you, you slowly walk over to the window and then turn your back on the ballooning curtains to look at him. The beskar is still pinned to you over his shoulder, though the rest of his body hasn’t moved.

“Turn around,” he tells you, and you shakily do as he says, rotating to face the open window. You’re close enough to make out people’s expressions from here—friends mingling as they stroll down the sidewalk, their mouths moving but their voices and laughter muted at this distance. An outdoor restaurant serving local cuisine to patrons and out-of-towners, a violinist and cellist performing a silent duet on the street corner.

There’s shuffling behind you. The creak of the bedframe as he lowers himself on it and moves around, before eventually coming to a rest in what you assume is a comfortable position.

“You can keep going,” eventually comes his filtered voice from the bed.

Your eyelashes dip and flutter as more hot sparks of arousal kindle deep in your floor muscles. Lifting your shirt up over your head has never felt like such high stakes before, but even as the fabric falls to the ground, your gaze continuously searches for anyone outside who may catch a glimpse. Though, you’re not sure if it’s in dread or some kind of sick excitement.

The breeze hardens your nipples while you work at your pants, and the hair on your arms stands up when you remember who’s behind you, silently watching you get turned on by this. Along with your underwear, your pants are pushed down your thighs, but instead of moving back from the pool around your ankles, you take a purposeful step forward towards the open window.

“Fuck—you dirty little thing,” you hear him breathe out, and a shiver rolls through you. “Tell me how many people you can see right now, count them.”

You try your best, but give up halfway through and provide a rough estimate. “F-Fifteen.”

“Scanner says seventeen from here,” Mando challenges lowly. “Seventeen pairs of eyes that can look up any second and see your naked body. Stripped bare, shaking, vulnerable. Your gorgeous fucking tits.”

As hard as your teeth dig into your bottom lip at the rasp through the modulator, your nails dig into your palms even harder. Still, you don’t move, and the open drapes flick and brush against your thighs as you hold there, the gentle wind doing absolutely nothing to cool your flushed skin down.

And oh, he waits. He’s good about that, especially when he can probably read your infrared signature through the helmet right now. You’re surprised you haven’t outright blinded him by how white-hot your body feels. But after what feels like a small eternity, he eventually murmurs, “Come over here.”

Once you turn around and see the way he’s just laying back on the bed, relaxing and enchanted with the show, it’s a miracle you don’t trip on anything with how quickly you hurry towards him. You’re already standing next to the edge of the mattress by the time you even register his body is subtly tilted so that his boots are hanging purposefully off the side of it.

Regardless of the hard dominance he’s exhibiting, the symbolic gesture somehow feels like it flips a switch inside you and lights up pure, aching adoration for him. But against every instinct screaming at you to just scramble on top of him and show him how much you appreciate his thoughtfulness, you wait. You wait for him to tell you what to do.

His glove lifts, comes up to gently touch the side of your face and cradle your jaw, and you have to clamp your hands together to stop yourself from reaching for him.

“Are you wet?” Mando murmurs, sounding like his lips barely even brush against each other when they move under the beskar. You don’t trust yourself to say anything without it turning into a desperate plea, so you just close your eyes and jerk your head in a nod, feeling your cheek graze against the leather on his palm with the movement. It’s hard to swallow when your mouth feels so dry, and he lets you just suffer there and tremble for him a little while longer, letting out a quiet hum through the modulator as his thumb carefully rides the line of your cheekbone.

Maker, where does all this fucking patience come from? Under normal circumstances, Mando is probably one of the most impatient people you’ve ever met, and yet. It’s like he stores it all up. Hoards it and refuses to dip into it most of the time—perfectly content to have a quick temper in most interactions, if only so that he can keep it handy for moments like this. If only so he can have a seemingly endless supply of patience to sustain him while your average-sized stockpile is gradually and inevitably being depleted.

“You want to get up here with me?” He asks quietly, and stars, that’s still not a directive, no matter how much it could casually imply one. The ridiculous thing is—he never even told you this was expected of you. Not once did he tell you to follow his words like they're gospel, not once did he say there was something wrong with speaking directly to him without prompting, or acting without explicit instruction. He never even implied anything like that at all, but you still hold your body completely rigid as you jerk a nod against his palm once more.

Stars, it just isn’t fair. He doesn’t look any different from how he looks every single day—there’s no patch of golden skin to tease you, beskar is covering him head to toe, but you’re hotter for him than you think you’ve ever been. He’s stretched out long on the bed, a portion of him darkened by your silhouette but the rest bathed in gorgeous moonlight, breathing slow as he takes you in. You stare silently at the visor, and for some reason, you—you’re quite suddenly struck with how gorgeous he could secretly be under there and you’ll just… you’ll never know. You know his hair is thick and dark, you know the softness of his mouth, the sunkissed color of his skin, the prominent nose and straight teeth on the rare but blissful occasions he’d let you kiss him. His eyes, though. They could be any color. Your credits have been on brown for a while, but the thought of you not knowing for sure… the thought of you actually having to ask him something like that is just—it makes you ache to touch him even more. To give him something tangible at least, when you know the only way to ever have a true visual connection with him is with a dark visor between you.

You try to let the sentiment transfer through your needy expression, hoping he can read it from there. His cock is hard—you can see it in your peripheral, pressing up against the dark fabric of his pants, but it’s like you’re the only one who notices. He’s still admiring your face, or fuck, maybe he’s looking at your body—you can never tell for sure, but regardless, you stare purposefully at wherever you think his eyes ought to be, silently pleading with him and starting to get desperate.

Finally—fucking finally, the helmet rocks to the side just slightly, just the smallest tilt of his head towards his body, but the nonverbal invitation is enough. Air you didn’t realize was even in your lungs suddenly whooshes out of you as you all but launch forwards onto the mattress to try and climb on top of him.

—Except, then his hand quickly drops from your face to press firm against your thighs, blocking the way your far leg tries to lift to swing over him in a straddle. Disappointment crashes through you with an audible whimper and you start to panic a little bit as you shakily plant both knees back on the bed, wondering what you possibly did wrong. Was it because he didn’t specifically say it was okay? Was he just testing your obedience?

The beskar vambrace feels cool against your burning skin, and you try not to let the trembling of your body manifest itself in your breathing as Mando lazily drags his glove along your thighs. Neither one of you says anything as he eventually trails his hand back and around, leather fingers coming to a rest between your legs while his thumb rides high, just under the curve of your ass.

And then he slowly starts pulling, before he gradually leads the leg closest to him up and over his body instead, until you’re settling into a straddle on top of his hips. Backwards.

Everything in you shudders violently as both gloves gently trail up the length of your naked back, letting you brace your hands on the beskar strapped to his thighs and settle on top of him.

“Look at that,” he hums, letting his hands fall back down to the meat of your ass, grabbing handfuls of it and squeezing hard enough to make you bite back a gasp. “Fucking pretty. Pretty girl. Stars, I fucking love looking at you, know that?”

The praise makes you mewl quietly and spread your knees even further, dropping your hips down until the underside of his cock presses up tight into your aching pussy. You arch your back and walk your hands forward just a bit, just until you’re holding onto his knees and you have the right angle to start slowly rocking your body back and forth.

“Maker,” you whisper, your head tipping back while you drag your pussy against his pulsing erection, and his hands keep massaging your ass while the words start falling out of you now that you released the floodgate. “Maker, I love your body. So big, and—and strong. Fucking hard, thick cock. Fuck, I love your cock. I love how fucking hard you get—”

“Bend over,” Mando breathes out behind you, his hands suddenly releasing fistfuls of your ass to grab around your hips and bring you to a stop. “Fuck, keep talking like that, but show me your—just let me… let me look at it.”

Your heart slams against your sternum, your clit pulsing against the hard ridge of his cock, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. Slowly, you bend your upper body over until your tummy lays flat along the cool beskar shielding his thighs and your tits are pressed against his kneecaps. Your arms are long enough to rest your hands on his ankles like this, and your thighs are spread wide to keep your cunt pushed up against his cock. But stars, you know he has a perfect view right now. The slick lips of your pussy smearing against his dark pants, both holes on full display for him in the moonlight.

“Keep—Keep talking,” Mando reminds you after a moment, sounding painfully turned on while his cock jumps against your clit. “Keep going. Use it, get yourself off. Let me watch.”

“Fuck, I love your cock,” you hear yourself repeat, breathless and needy as your hips start grinding down against him once more, the words coming from you without giving them any thought whatsoever. He grunts and pushes it up for you, letting you get at it easier. “I think about it all the time. Think about the first time I felt it, how you were already rock fucking hard for me when I touched you. You came so quick, right in my hand, in your pants—it was so fucking hot.”

“I’d had—” he grits out in his defense, “—shit, I’d had a… a rough day, and your hands were. Fuck, s-soft, and—”

“Maybe,” you concede, biting your lip and closing your eyes against the swirling pleasure spreading hot through your body, the heat that burns you alive hearing the familiar warble through the modulator when he’s starting to lose himself in pleasure. “Or maybe it was because you were half-conscious with a brand new scar on your back.”

His filtered groan rolls down your spine and his cock pulses hard against your cunt through the fabric of his pants, making you spasm in delight. Fuck, your head drops down completely, just dragging yourself back and forth on top of him as you chase your orgasm like this. Shameless—your ass flexing in front of him with every roll of your hips, your lower muscles fluttering with every drag against his cock.

“Fuck—fuck, let me touch your asshole,” Mando whispers suddenly, lifting himself up on one elbow and dragging the other hand up the curve of your cheek. “Just—just a little bit, I won’t pu—”

“Oh stars above, fucking please,” you gasp against one of his legs, nearly jerking back against his hand as your pussy fucking leaks through his pants with it. “I’ll let you do anything you want, you can—can put your thumb inside it—”

His other hand leaves you for a split second, and you think he’s taking his glove off, except then it swings down to crack hard against your ass, making you gasp and instantly go still for him on his lap.

The smooth leather covering the pad of his thumb carefully glides down your crevice, and you hold your breath until it finally brushes over the tight ring of muscle flexing for him.

“That all you’ll let me put in here?” Mando asks quietly, and you let out a complete mess of a whimper, trying your best not to move under the bold touches.

You get another firm smack on the ass for being rendered mute for too long. “Tell me,” he growls, rubbing his thumb against the vulnerable entrance while his cock throbs against your cunt.

“I’ll—I’ll let you do anything you want,” you moan once more, and stars, you can’t help it. Your hips start to grind down against him even harder than before, and Mando curses as he slowly rides your movements with his hand.

“Dirty,” he grits out. “Dirty girl. You ever take it back here before?” And stars, the way his cock drags against your pussy starts to make you lightheaded, how casually he’s talking about this while starting to circle his thumb around it and press firm against it. Not hard enough to push inside, but enough to feel the natural resistance give just a bit.

“No,” you breathe, starting to pant while you work against him. “Boys have tried. But I’d let you.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, suddenly rocking his hips up against yours. You nearly choke and your legs start to lock up, making your movements stunted. “Fuck. I bet you’d let me do it right fucking now, wouldn’t you? Right here in front of this f-fucking window, where everyone can see? Let me flip you over and stretch you out, and then fuck your tight little—virgi—”

“Maker, get your cock out,” you gasp, heat burning at your center and beginning to spread outwards. It tingles hot through your lower abdomen and you start to get frantic, knowing you don’t have much time before your orgasm hits. “Please, just let me ride it, let me cum on it—”

“No,” Mando immediately grunts, and you make a small sound of distress that quickly turns into a high-pitched mewl against his leg when the very tip of his thumb just barely breaches the haloed entrance.

“But—but I’m so wet,” you whisper, “oh stars, can’t you see it? I’m dripping. You could just slide it right in right now, I’d take it so fucking easy—”

He rips his hand away just long enough to smack your ass once again, hard enough to ring through the room and make you gasp. “Quit. You’ll take whatever the fuck you’re given and you’ll endure,” he snaps. “Not here, not tonight.”

You bite back desperate protests. He’d fuck you in a dark alleyway on Canto Bight but not here? As if you haven’t already done so multiple times this evening, you immediately lament your stupid mouth and the thoughtless mattress comment. You wish you could take it all back—you don’t care how nice this bed is, you want to sleep in anything he’ll fuck you in. Nonetheless, your orgasm gallops forward and leaves your body struggling to keep up behind it—but Maker, you want so badly to feel him inside you when it finally hits. You want to sink down on him and feel him break you open just as you start to cum.

“Oh fuck, please give me it,” you whine, sounding on the edge of delirium, the words pressed high and unintentional as your hands clutch at his legs. “Oh Maker, please, please fuck me—fuck me in a real bed, please, just—fuck me right now and I swear I’ll sleep on fucking rocks for you every single night for the rest of m—”

A snarl rips through the modulator and he shoves your hips forward just enough, just enough to rip his waistband down—

You gasp in blinding relief and flip your head over your shoulder to watch, but then subtle movement catches in your peripheral. You glance up just in time to see the doorknob slowly turning.

Thank your lucky stars you react on instinct alone, squealing and jumping off him before quickly shuffling under the covers.

“What the fu—” comes an enraged, filtered growl, metal clanking with how quickly he flips over to reach for you, but then he cuts off and the helmet whips to the door as it unlatches and slowly creaks open.

The blankets are pulled tight under your chin as you shuffle down as far as possible, and though you can’t see the intruder from this angle, Mando is instantly reaching back to rip the pillow out from under the helmet and press it tight over his crotch, huffing out a sigh.

Soon, you’re able to spot one pointy little ear pop up, followed by the rest of the little gremlin scaling the treacherously tall comforter, pulling himself over the edge of the mattress with a determined three-finger hold and then doing a completely unnecessary little barrel roll once he’s on the level springtop. The fact that it’s so fucking adorable just serves to irk you even more, and both of you silently watch the kid push himself up on two feet and then waddle slowly in between you two.

He finds a pillow he likes—one that happens to be placed directly in between you and his dad, before he settles himself down on it like a small bed on top of a much larger one. The little stinker then flutters his abnormally giant eyes closed and seems to instantly fall back asleep.

There’s a few minutes where you just blink across from Mando, flicking your gaze between the chrome visor and the baby’s peaceful face. Is this… is he serious right now?

“Were we being too loud?” You eventually whisper, barely above a breath. “Or is he just being purposefully annoying?”

He doesn’t answer you. And, well, you suppose he has a point. Regardless of why, it appears he's here now.

You let out a slow breath and just try and relax, try and think beyond the flare of annoyance at the interruption, how close you were to feeling him fuck you into this mattress. He’d still have the armor and helmet on, of course, but it would be just domestic enough to ruin you.

But then again—you suppose this, if anything, is even more domestic. Doing your best to calm your racing thoughts so you can eventually fall asleep directly across from him with his mildly aggravating, heartstealing little adopted kid snoring quietly between you.

Quite a while passes before you feel your eyelids growing heavy. You spend almost the entire time studying every single inch of Mando while he faces you on the mattress. The sharp angles and smooth curves of his helmet, concave in places but convex in others. How fitting, you think. To cover a man with a helmet just like him—sharp, smooth, contrasting, and deflective enough about what lies underneath to be reflective.

Then you find yourself thinking about what he’s hiding under it. Once more. You try to picture him, but it’s… it’s difficult. You’re not used to translating things you’ve only touched into visual representations, it’s just not a skill you’ve ever needed to have handy. And what about all the things you can’t, or haven’t been able to feel? Freckles, or birthmarks? Dimples? Are his lashes long or short? Do they stick out in a fringe when he clamps his eyes shut? Does his nose scrunch up when he laughs? Do his ears stick out? Does he have wrinkles on his forehead, or around his eyes?

Maker, what color are they?

You continue to stare at the metal faceplate, blinking droopily at it but forcing yourself to stay awake just a bit longer. Enjoy the feeling of the soft mattress underneath you while you still can, relaxing into the cool sheets and delaying your inevitable descent into dreams. Savoring his extended presence here with you for as long as possible.

“Do you have brown eyes?” You hear yourself murmur to him through the quiet darkness, lips barely touching and the words slurred from exhaustion. You want to know. You want to be able to color in the last paint-by-number of his face before you begin your work on the finer details.

Again, he doesn’t answer, and you figure he’s probably asleep.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #smut #reader insert #star wars #fanfic #no-droids

5K notes · View notes

alchemistbee · 4 years

Text

Back in your Arms

「Five Hargreeves x reader」

Ask: Could you write a Five reader fic where y/n gets kidnapped by the Swedes and Five saves them. Thx

Words: 2556

Warnings: mentions of blood and torture. Kidnapping. Season two spoilers.

A/N: this is the first fic I’ve ever got requested. I hope I did it justice. I hope you enjoy! I know I took long to publish it, I apologize, school is kicking my ass. Sorry for grammatical errors. Enjoy!

[gif from @thisgameissonintendo ]

After having attended the horrific light brunch with the Hargreeves family, they were all feeling far more worse than when they had arrived. Five had explained to Sir Hargreaves each of their powers, Vanya had exploded a bowl of fruits, Allison rumored Diego, Diego got a very non-friendly slap of reality, Klaus seemed to have a seizure mid-dinner and Lurther confronted their father by ripping his shirt off in front of everyone.

In your opinion, it could have gone a lot better, but it could have also gone a lot worse.

Unlike the other siblings, Five had stayed behind and you had figured that it would be better to wait for him in the lobby. He was having a conversation with his father, whom he hadn't seen for over fifty years, he bet his ass you were going to wait for him. Especially after the horrible way he had spoken to the rest, you would be there for Five if he needed to. What you didn't know by then was that Five was trying to see if his father could tell him how to go back to 2019, one that didn't evolve making a deal with The Handler. Which, may I add, he hadn’t told anyone about, not even to you.

You waited patiently for Five, your back leaned against the wall while your arms intertwined in front of your chest. You counted the minutes that passed, not that you were in a hurry, but to hopefully make it seem like the time was passing faster. After almost twenty-seven minutes, the elevator emitted that one ‘bing’ it did whenever the doors were about to slide open. As you expected, it was Five, who now had his hands shoved inside his pockets and seemed quite puzzled. You asked him if he was okay, but Five only dismissed your question to tell you to go ahead of him to Elliott’s place. Apparently, there was something he needed to take care of, something he wasn't willing to explain to you just yet.

He knew that if he did tell you, you would either try to stop him or not let him do it on his own. Five didn’t want to drag you into Commission business. He found that not telling you of the plan all together was the easiest way to keep you from being in Commission's eyes, more than currently at least.

You nodded suspiciously towards Five, but did not push the subject any further. Maybe he just needed some time to let everything sink in, and it's not like you nor him considered the walk back to Morty’s dangerous. You could take care of yourself pretty well. You parted ways with Five, and walked back to Morty’s where you saw Elliott himself was just arriving too. He smiled kindly upon seeing you, to which you returned with a smile of your own. You had to be honest, you had grown to like Elliott more than expected. He was like that one cousin in the family, and you enjoyed hearing his rambles about any conspiracy he could think of. He truly was a sweetheart.

You followed Elliott up the stairs to his place, he carried a paper bag in hand, calmly telling you the things he brought back from the supermarket. You listened thoughtfully. Once inside. Elliott flickered the lights on and to both of your surprise, a cat sat in the middle in the kitchen. Elliott looked confused, but figured the cat must have somehow climbed in “Hey buddy, how did you get up here?”

He approached the kitchen casually, where he sat the bag down and looked at the cat as it meowed to him. You couldn’t help to feel your skin crawl. The nagging feeling of people watching you being present “Elliot?-” You turned your head to look behind you, swearing you had seen something lurking in the shadows. You averted your gaze back to him, now watching as he pulled out a tiny can of food for the cat and asked if it was hungry. You walked to the kitchen window, the one that let you view outside in case anyone was suspiciously close to the building. You saw nothing, but that was because you didn't know that they were already inside.

Your head snapped back to Elliot the moment a loud sound came from the living room, there you saw that one of the tall assassins had punched Elliott right on the side of his face. You felt your heart accelerate, and moved quickly to help him until you felt someone pull you up, stopping your tracks to help the man. The other assassin got a hold of you, if it hadn't been for your small body, you could have stopped the leader from hurting Elliott any further.

You saw the man try to scramble from his gun, but the other man was quicker to lift him up by the throat, asking the whereabouts of Diego. Upon receiving no answer, the man punched Elliott twice, this time letting his body fall harshly on the floor while blood dripped down his nose.

“Elliott!” You struggled under the second man’s hold. You couldn't move, you couldn't fight. The siblings were not even back and there was no way for you to contact them when the phone was this far “We don't know where Diego is! Leave him alone! He has nothing to do with this!” you pleaded loudly. The leader only shifted his gaze at you, studying the way your eyes flushed with fear. He was trying to figure out whether you were the one the woman had referred to not killing, you were merely a teen after all. Yet, not killing you didn't mean they could not use you for information.

After that little stare down happened, making you hope that maybe the men would not use Elliot as their little puppet..You were gravely mistaking. The man dragged Elliott through the living room, knocking over a lamp and breaking it before pinning him into the dentist chair violently. He kept asking for Diego, and Elliott is only able to answer with a “I d-dont know” while you keep battling for the second man to let go of you. At this point, you felt the tears welling in your eyes as you noticed him take the forceps, priding Elliott's mouth open and sticking them into his mouth.

“NO!” you cried out “ELLIOTT!”

Elliott’s screams filled the building alongside your pleas and cries, but as much as you told the men that none of you knew where Diego was, that didn't seem to make them stop. Not until Elliott’s body was drained from life entirely, the blood from his body splattered all across the floor and body. You couldn’t help the soft cries leaving your lips, calling his name out ever so softly in hopes of him still being alive but that’s when you felt a sharp pain come from the back of your head. The world turned black and your body fell not too far from Elliott’s chair after the second man got tired of holding you.

The brothers could use you. They could use you to lure Diego, the man they believed responsible for the murder of their younger brother.

The next day, after Diego and Lurther find Elliott’s body, they try to figure out who did this to Elliott. Diego believes it's the feds, but Lurther claims that was no work of feds but of a psychopath. Believing the words written below are a name, they search through the phone book until discovering the phone number linked to whom they believe is responsible for Elliott’s death; They phone the number up.

Five jumped into the building, quickly noticing the blood painted words on the floor, making him hurry up the stairs to meet Elliot’s body. He can feel a lump forming in his throat as he approaches it. There were clear signs of torture, there was something stuck into his left eye. Five couldn’t help to feel guilty. He liked Elliot, he was a good man, he had helped them and welcomed his siblings in without the slightest complaint. He had become one of them, and for that, his life paid the price.

Five followed the voices of Lurther and Diego through the kitchen, taking off his blue and blood dripped jacked as he heard the brothers threaten someone over the phone for killing one of them “Hey! It's Öga för Öga, idiots. Swedish for ‘an for en eye’. It means The swedes killed Elliott '' He didn't want to think how the missions went after his run; It was clear Diego and Lurther shared one brain cell.

“Wrong number, have a lovely day” Diego hanged the call, looking at Five and easily spotting the blood on his clothes “Uh, you got some blood on your clothes”

“A lot actually”, Diego added as Five pushed by them, entered the bathroom and turned the sink handle to let the water flow down. He grabbed a white towel, carefully washing the blood off of him as best as he could “I found a way home”

“What? How?”

“All the details are irrelevant but i made a deal to get back to our timeline”

“What about doomsday? And the 2019 apocalypse”

“won't happen. Everything will be back to normal” Five remarked exasperated “All right? No more questions. We gotta go. We have to find the other and get back in 77 minutes. Luther, you get Allison, Diego go get Klaus, I'll get Vanya, Y/N-“ he stopped his pacing all suddenly, eyes roaming the room and back to his younger siblings “Wait—Where’s Y/N?”

Five’s eyes widened as realization suddenly hit him and his siblings. He saw you last night, you were supposed to be here, why weren’t you here?

“They stayed after the brunch, we thought they were with you…” Diego, Five and Lurther shared a look, all of them now realizing that you had been taken by the men who killed Elliott.

“Dammit!” Five exclaimed angrily. He had just gotten a way back home, and you...You had been taken. How was he supposed to find you in such little time? He didn’t even know where to start.

“Calm down. Okay—We’ll find them—“ Diego started while Five started to pace around, muttering words under his breath “This was so simple. So simple!” He turned his head to look at them “I am going to go find Y/N, and get Vanya. We meet here as planned, this is our only chance to go back” Five raised his finger at them both before started to walk to the stairs, but stopped abruptly when he Diego spoke up once more

“You expect us to not help you—“ before Diego could finish his sentence, Five jumped from the small distance to right in front of his brother, raising his fingers with a threatening look “If you don’t do this, I swear I’ll kill you myself” he said more sternly “there's not enough time for all of us to go in a search, I’ll tell Vanya to meet up here. If i don't make it in time just go back home, I’ll manage a way back”

“How are you planning on finding them?” Was what Diego last said before Five teleported out of the building.

You woke up with a sharp breath. Your head was pounding and when you opened your eyes, you were welcomed with nothing but a blindfold on your eyes. You tried moving your arms. But soon found out they were tied down to your back while your ankles were tied against the legs of a chair “Shit” you muttered hoarsely, your throat was still dry from the crying. What the hell happened? Where were you?—

That’s when it hit you

“HELP! SOMEONE!” You tried to scream as loudly as you could, but considering the silence in wherever you were, you knew no one was coming to your aid. Strangely, the smell was like cat fur, and that was confirmed when you heard the several meows and the cat passing it’s tail over your leg.

How in the world were you going to get out of here now?

Five jumped all over town trying to find any clues, even the smallest, of your whereabouts. Even though he didn’t show it, he was extremely anxious and worried for your self being. He feared what the Swedes could be doing to you, or worst, what they had already done. The images of Elliott kept flashing back to him, and something in his stomach made him believe that if he didn’t hurry up, he would find you the same way.

He didn’t know whether it was luck or simple fate, but as he walked through the town he spotted the familiar milk truck that had followed them around for some instances. It was parked in front of an apartment, a quite small one, and Five knew that you should have been there. He kept looking down at his watch, counting the minutes they had left before having to go back to 2019.

They still had twenty minutes. He still had time, it was enough to save you and go back. At least he hoped so.

He watched The Swedes get in the truck, and without thinking it twice, teleported himself inside the cat filled apartment. His blue eyes roamed the place all over, scanning it for any trace of you until he heard a few knocks coming from a nearby closet. He didn’t waste time on pulling the door open.

Five’s eyes fell on you, and instinctively, you started to try and kick thinking that The Swedes were back again “Y/N!-Its me!-Y/N” he crouched down to your level, scanning your body for any signs of torture or harm. He sighed sharply, relieved to see that The Swedes hasn’t gotten their way with you. Gently, he reached out to pull your blindfold off. It broke him to see you like this.

Your eyes weren’t shining like they used to. They were completely flushed by pain, regret and fear “F-Five” you muttered softly, finding it hard to believe he had actually found you. You felt the ropes become loose on your legs and wrists, and the moment you had the chance, your body fell against Five’s. He held you firmly, worried that maybe you weren’t as okay as he thought you were. He was only relieved to have you back on his arms again, the place where he could make sure of your safety.

“F-Five—Elliott—I couldn’t s-save him” You started, tears stinging your eyes as you remembered what The Swedes did to the man “I c-couldn’t—“your shoulders shook alongside your small sobs.

“I know...It wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have left you” Five said softly, his arms slowly wrapping around you, hoping that would comfort you in the slightest “We have to go...I found a way back, but we need to go now or we’ll be stuck here forever” He pulled you up the ground, his thump caressing your tear stained cheeks while his free hand took a gentle hold of yours.

“You w-what? How?” You blinked twice, sniffing softly “Five, what did you do?”

“I’ll explain on the way...Let’s go home”

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #number five #number five x reader #number five imagine #umbrella academy #tua five #tua fanfic #aidan gallagher #fanfics #my work #tua

413 notes · View notes

thegreenmetblue · 3 years

Text

Idiots in love

aka another the fear of losing Tony makes Peter confess OS than no one asked

read on ao3

Tony thinks he doesn’t deserve something as pure as Peter in his life. And because idiots always have to come as a pair, Peter thinks he doesn’t deserve Tony either. Tony and Peter are both idiots in love thinking they dont deserve each other. They’re together-but-not together. It’s that kind of sex where Tony is constantly saying « This can never happen again. » afterward, but they keep letting it happen again and again. Peter is sure Tony could never love him, that he’s just using him for sex. It’s destroying the boy’s heart hard but at least it’s something. It’s better to have sex with Tony than nothing, right ? So he keeps coming back, he keeps letting the man fuck him and he keeps refraining himself from saying I love you every time Tony fucks him. And if he cries, Peter always says it’s because it’s overwhelming and not because his heart is crushing inside him. On the other way, Tony thinks the kid just has that weird daddy kink phase. That he’s misinterpreting worship with love. Tony is just trying to get away from Peter, all the time. Because he can’t do this. He knows he’s falling for Peter. He knows what this warm feelings in his chest every time he sees Peter, every time he fucks Peter, is. But they have to stop. Because Tony’s addict to Peter and soon Peter is gonna realize he doesn’t want Tony anymore. But no matter how they try, this, their attraction to each other, that is always stronger than any restriction they desperately try to make.

One day, Peter’s sitting on the couch in the compound. He’s supposed to be alone there. But then he hears some noises so he turns the tv off and tilts his head towards the sounds. Peter hopes it’s Tony. The boy hasn’t seen him today and this may be pathetic but fuck he already misses the man so much. And Peter knows he shouldn’t. He knows that whatever is happening between him and Tony isn’t that. It’s not kissing, holding each others hand and waiting for each others at home. It’s sex. Just sex. And Peter hates it. At first it was awesome. Heaven even. Tony Stark was fucking him. His childhood hero and now-crush was fucking him. He never thought he would have this damn chance in his life. Ever. Peter used to tell himself that this would be enough. That he could live with that, cause that meant he was allowed to touch Tony, to hold him, to have sex with him. And fuck, not that Peter is experimented or anything but damn, Tony is able to make him cum crying in like 3 fucking minutes, the sex is just magic. But as the time passed, Peter realized it wasn’t enough. At all. He never been this much in pain. But he can’t stop. He’s in love with Tony. He loves him with all his damn soul, so he can’t stop. But keeping this, this is slowly destroying him. At first, they didn’t fuck so much. Tony was always trying to stop it, to say they couldn’t do that. But now… Now it’s almost every night. Every fucking night Tony is taking him in his bed, pinching his nipples, kissing his neck not his lips, Tony never kisses him, touching him, pushing his cock deep in his ass. And every time, Peter ends up crying. Tony thinks it’s because it’s good. It is so good though. And Peter is a cryer, he always has tears in his eyes when Tony makes him cum. But this, this is not tears in his eyes, this is tears rolling down his cheeks, this is him sobbing because his heart is breaking, slowly but surely. Every time they fuck, his heart is tearing appart more and more. The boy wants more, he needs more. He wanna be able to love Tony, he wants Tony to love him just as much. He wants them to cuddle all night, to kiss, to date. He wants to spend the rest of his life with Tony. And he can’t have that. But he can’t stop the sex either. Because that’s all he has. And even if it’s hell, he loves it. He’s gone so far that if they don’t fuck, Peter can’t sleep.

Anyway, back to the noises. Thanks to Peter’s superhearing, he recognizes Natasha and Steve’s voices. Peter ignores his stomach becoming heavier when he realizes it’s not Tony. But then, what he hears makes him frown.

« Should we tell Peter? », the woman’s voice says.

« Im not sure if this is a good idea. They… They looked pretty close lately. We should wait for Rhodey’s text before doing anything. », Steve answers.

What are they talking about ? Is that about Tony ? A dark feelings settles down Peter’s guts. So he gets up and goes to them. When they both see Peter, they freeze. Okay, this isn’t reassuring at all.

« What… What were you talking about ? What does Rhodey has to text you ? », he asks, his voice already trembling a little with fears. Did something happen to Tony ?

« Where’s Tony ? », he asks again, not even waiting for them to answer his first question. When both of their head get down, Peter’s officially worried.

« Listen, Peter, maybe you should-», the blond man begins, but he gets cut.

« Where is Tony ? Did something happened to him ?» His voice already getting louder and higher. There’s a silence.

« Answer me! », he snaps. That seems to work because Natasha puts his hand on his arm and finally talks.

« We got a text from Rhodey, he told us Tony got shot. », she says, simply. There’s another silence. A loud one. Nat’s words hit Peter like a fucking train. His stomach drops. His heart seems suddenly so heavy in his chest.

« Wh… Wha- No. What do you mean he- he got sh-shot? », Peter panics, moving back. He feels like he can’t breath.

« We didn’t want you to be worried, it may not be anything bad. Rhodey isn’t answering so Nat and me planned to go check on the hospital. », Steve explains. Peter’s breath is still stuck on his throat.

« Not- Not be anything bad ?! You- He… Got shot. Shot. He can’t- He can’t. Where is he ? » Peter’s voice is frantic, trembling, cutting with shorts breath.

« Hey Peter calm down, okay ? He’s probably okay, alright ? Me and Steve are gonna check on him, and we’re keeping you updated as soon as we see him, promise. »

« No… No, Im- I need-»

« Peter. », Nat calls his name, tightening his hand on Peter’s arm to ground him.

« Let go of me! », he screams suddenly, stepping back even further from them. Then, without even thinking about what he’s doing, Peter actives the nano-wristband and then one second later, the Spiderman suit is on him.

« No, Peter, you should-»

« Shut up! Shut up, shut the fuck up! », he screams again, making them stepping back in shock. But then, Steve grabs Peter’s other arm hard.

« You can’t go Peter. Not like this. Just breath, I promise you we’re gonna keep you updated.», he tries. Peter doesn’t even say anything, he whines.

« N…No…I…I need-», but he doesn’t finish cause tears are starting to fall down his cheeks. This isn’t happening. Tony can’t have been shot, he can’t. But then the anger hits. Why is Steve holding his arm ?! He jerks away, Steve’s strong, but Peter’s body acting on his own right now, he’s not controlling his strength. And as soon as he’s free from Steve’s grip, he jumps from the nearest window. He weakly hears Steve and Natasha calling for his name, but he doesn’t give a damn fuck about them right now.

Peter’s head is just screaming Tony’s name over and over again. And while he swings from buildings to buildings, his mind is racing with pictures of Tony laying unconscious on a hospital bed. Or worst, laying dead. Tears are wetting his cheeks and his breath is cut by sobs he can’t contain. He narrowly misses getting crushed by several buildings on his way but again, he doesn’t care.

When Peter finally enters the hospital, the fear is eating him up, the cold feelings is swallowing him whole. He’s a second away from throwing up in the middle of the hospital. The boy’s body is walking on his own, desperately searching for Rhodey. Peter wants to die. If something happened to Tony, he feels like he’s gonna kill himself. He can’t-

Seconds pass like hours and when he finally see the man, he practically jumps him.

« Peter ? What are you doing here? », Rhodey questions, surprised to see the young boy here.

« Rh-Rhodey, wh- fuck. To-Tony. Is-Is he okay ? Please, please, t-tell me he didn’t-», he tries to speak but can’t manage to form a proper sentence.

« Wow wow wow, Peter, breath, okay. Tony’s here. He’s okay. He’s not- The bullet touched his ribs but nothing else okay. Do you hear what Im saying to you ? Tony’s fine. » Rhodey’s words take forever to settle in Peter’s brain but when they finally do, Peter’s legs just stop supporting him and he falls on the ground. He can’t say anything. He can’t answer Rhodey. Something so warm is bursting everywhere in his body. Tony’s okay. Tony’s not dying. He’s okay. His brain his repeating over and over

« Jeez, Peter. », Rhodey swears, trying to get him up again. When Peter’s up, they stare for a bit, without saying anything and Peter burst into tears.

« Th-Thank you… Fuck thank you. », he cries, the heavy worry leaving his body. Rhodey hugs the boy, whispering him it’s okay.

« Can… Can I see him please ? », he asks finally. Rhodey signs.

« Not yet, he’s in the operating room. But they said he’s gonna wake up soon. Do you want to wait for him ? »

« Yes. », he answer firmly. Of course he is gonna wait.

« Okay, follow me. »

Peter doesn’t answer. His mind is blank. Fuck, he got so scared. Rhodey leads him to an empty hospital bedroom. They stay silent while waiting. Peter is lost in his thoughts. He thinks… He thinks what would have he done if something did really happen to Tony ? He stops, feeling the urge to throw up again. He can’t think about that. Tony’s okay. Suddenly Rhodey’s phone rings. It’s Natasha. The man answers and goes out of the bedroom. Peter just hears him saying that Tony is fine and Peter is with him. When Rhodey comes back, he stares at Peter.

« You kinda scared them. Steve and Natasha. » Peter doesn’t even answer. He shrugs. How could they think he was gonna stay calm ? It’s Tony they were talking about.

Something like an hour passes before the door of the room is opening again. Peter’s stomach drops again. A doctor is pulling a rolling bed and Tony’s in the bed. Tony is in the bed, with the eyes open. And again, he can’t help it. He starts crying.

Suddenly, Tony eyes are all on him. His jaw clenches a bit. Rhodey whispers he’s glad to see him and then he heads back, with the doctor, to talk about Tony’s state. and to leave them alone.

« Pete… », Tony starts but he doesn’t add anything. Peter wants to hug him. He wants it so hard. But Tony just had a surgery because of a bullet in his ribs, he can’t.

« Hey, Peter, stop crying. Im okay, kid. Im okay », he finally adds, his heart hurting from seeing the boy in such state. Peter’s own heart is beating hard in his chest and in his ears. All he can see is Tony. Tony, Tony and Tony. Alive.

« Wha- What happened ? », the boy asks after little time, his voice weak. Tony smiles a bit.

« That was stupid, really. That bullet wasn’t meant for me, I just had to do the hero. You know me, kid. I swear Im fine. That hurt like a bitch, but Im okay. Nothing better than a little bullet in the ribs to boost you, right ?», he jokes. Peter keeps starring at him, his heart beating. He doesn’t answer anything. Realizing how much the man is important to him. No, realizing how everything the man is to him.

« C’mon kid. Say something. And stop crying. I don’t like it. » he only likes it when they have sex, but seeing Peter looking so broken right now, it’s unbearable really But Peter still stays silent. He tries to wipe away his tears at least. But then, he open his mouth, attempting to say he’s so glad Tony’s safe and he got so scared to lose him but nothing comes out. The words are getting stuck in his throat.

« Hey, kid. Peter, c’mon. Im the one supposed to be down right now, you’re scaring me, say something. »

And suddenly, he bursts : « I love you. »

There’s a big silence after that. The words seems to echo against the room’s walls. Peter’s heart is beating hard, his jaw still clenched. Tony’s breath stopped working. What ?

« Wh.. What? », he lets out. Peter isn’t scared. Not anymore. He thought he lost Tony, he thought he was about to see his dead body. He thought he was never gonna be able to tell the man the way he feels. That was scary.

« I love you. I love you so fucking much. Im in love with you, Tony. »

He says, staring at Tony, his voice shaky but certain. The man’s mind goes blank. Peter what? He-

« You- Excuse me what ? », Tony bugs. He can’t be earring that right.

« I thought you were going to die. Nat said- she… they said you got shot. Shot. I thought… I thought I… that you were gonna leave me. I… I never wanna feel like that again. Ever. Im- fuck. I told myself you’d die without knowing how I feel about you, not knowing how deep in love I am with you. So now imma say it. Because- Because you’re alive and I love you, Tony. I love you, I love you, I never felt like this before. And… And im sorry. Im sorry because now you have to deal with that, because we were having sex and I… It wasn’t just having sex, for me. You weren’t just fucking me. I mean… maybe it was that, it was probably that yeah. But I was convincing myself it was more… that it... it was us making love. It was you loving me. And it crushed me. It was slowly killing me. But it was nothing compared to how I felt when I arrived to the hospital right now. I was fucking empty, I… was so scared. So now imma tell you, because you’re there, you’re not dead, you’re alive and I love you. Every cells of my body loves you, it’s a sickness really. But please Tony… even if I know you don’t feel the same way, please just don’t reject me. I… I can’t even explain what Im feeling, and Im making myself ridiculous right now don’t I ? You’re not saying anything, why don’t you say something ? Please tell me it’s okay, please. Im sorry I never wanted to feel that way but I always had the biggest crush on you and when we started… you know. I couldn’t help it, I couldn’t help that feeling to anchor deep inside me. Im sorry. », he spills, the words just coming out of his mouth without filters. The tears are back on his cheeks, his whole body is trembling. But it’s not fear. It’s love.

Tony’s crying too. His brain just stopped working hearing the boy’s words. Fuck, we’re so stupid. he thinks. They’re so damn stupid. He had tons of declarations in his life. But that, that he never had. This is indescribable. The feeling inside his body right now is not something he can put words on.

So he just take a big inspiration and whispers Peter to come closer to him. Peter walks toward him and when he’s close enough to Tony, the man just grabs him by the head and kiss him hard. His ribs are hurting like well because he’s moving but he doesn’t fucking care. The kiss is heaven. For both of them. It’s like they never breathed. And now they are. Peter’s surprised but the surprise doesn’t last long because of that feeling vibrating inside him. Tony’s kissing him. Tony never kissed him before. He can’t help the little moans coming out and Tony smiles against his lips at that. Fuck, this is so good. Both of their tears are mixing up, making the kiss wet. When the kiss ends, they both stare at each other in the eyes, in the deepest of their soul.

« Wha.. What was that for ? », Peter asks, whispering, his voice trembling, scared he’ll ruin the moment. But he needs to know .

« That, was my way of telling you I wasn’t planning on leaving you, Peter. Im sorry you thought I was gonna die. I can’t do promises I can’t keep, but I swear Imma do my best. For the said two Avengers’s genius, we both were damn idiots. Because... I love you too, Peter. Of course I love you. How could I not ? Just look at you, baby. And look at me. Im as deep in love with you as you are. Maybe more. You know how I am, always screwing things up. Im sorry I didn’t see it sonner, Pete. I thought it was just a worshiping thing, I thought you were gonna find someone your age and stop what we had. I.. I restrained myself to hold you, Im so sorry, baby. But from now on- from now on, Im not gonna restrain anymore. I love you, kid. But let’s make things right, alright ? I know I’ve been the worst mentor slash maybe boyfriend ever but let me make it up to you, huh ? Let me take you to the best restaurants I know and- I mean as soon as Im free from this hell of a place- and just let me take care of you, first. », Tony admits, his voice soft and his chest just bursting with love for that sweet perfect thing in front of him. But then he frowns when he sees the boy starting to cry again. His heart sinks.

« Shit, what- what did I do ? What are you crying again, Peter ? », he asks, but Peter just laugh, crying at the same time. Tony let the breath he was holding, seeing Peter is laughing.

« N-No, it’s just.. Im… Im so happy right now, Tony. I think I’ve never been this happy.» Warm love’s swallowing Tony entirely.

« I love you, kid. »

#starker #peter parker x tony stark #ironspider #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #leah writes sometimes

90 notes · View notes

eddiesfaerie · 4 years

Text

Long Sleeves (part 2)

Summary: Pushed to its absolute limits; a retelling of the past 4 months of you and Charlie’s complicated relationship (13.5k words, i dont know what to say other than im so sorry)

Warnings: NSFW, f!reader, major angst, annoying fluff, mentions of divorce, affairs, age gap (between Charlie and reader, previously implied), nudes, phone sex, PIV sex, daddy kink, some size kink, pain kink(?), rough (and angry and sad) sex, dom and sub themes, spanking, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), i also mention christmas a lot at the beginning which isn't really a warning but i know not everyone celebrates it!

Part 1

A/N: for those of you who are not a fan of d*ddy kink but who may still want to read this; i only use it between the time stamps of Christmas Eve to March, following the March timestamp there will be no mention or use of that word! just thought i’d mention cause the ending is cathartic!

LATE DECEMBER - APARTMENT

With Henry and Nicole staying in LA until after the holidays, Charlie would be alone with you until he left again.

And he didn’t leave your apartment once in the meantime.

Making up for lost time, is what you could call it.

The hours, days, spent in between sheets, on countertops, on couches, in the shower. Like he was trying to mark your apartment with his scent, make sure you never forgot him when he would leave again for LA in a few days.

You would remember him everywhere.

The way your knees bruised on the tile floor of your shower. The welts on your ass from his harsh hand. The bite marks on your shoulders, the bruises littering your neck, stomach, anywhere he could reach.

You would remember him everywhere.

The thousands of ‘good girls’ he praised you with and the thousand and one ‘fucking sluts’ he punished you with. Charlie was coming to know your insides and outs better than you could at this point, it was a certain level of familiarity you were happy with him reaching. He was becoming more and more comfortable around you.

You could tell not just because of the frequent sex, the hard fucking, but because of how he was opening up to you about the divorce. About what was really going on down in LA, what was happening with Henry, what had been happening (or more so, not happening) with Nicole for nearly the past year.

He told you about how she ignored him, refused to have sex with him, even touch him. How he had found solace in a one time affair with their stage director, how he just missed feeling needed, feeling wanted by the only person who was supposed to fulfill that innate human desire.

He told you everything he could think of, every little detail. He was tired of hiding, holding it in.

He realized he would have to tell you when he would get a random call from his lawyer or from Nicole herself, when he would talk to Henry. When he yelled through the phone or hung up crying, slamming his device against the wall, nearly breaking it.

He knew he would have to explain it to you, he owed it to you.

You deserved to know, especially now that he was involving you in this to some degree. He didn’t want to, didn’t want to involve you but he needed you more than he needed anyone else right now. More than he was ready to admit perhaps, just how much he truly needed you.

And that’s why going back to LA would be the hardest thing he’s done all week.

He stood at the door, dressed, suitcase packed, heart lurching, thumping low in his chest with dread, resent, fear, and some feeling he couldn’t fucking name.

Lo-

“I wish you could come.” He says instead, the saddest smile you’ve seen adorning his perfect lips. You smile back, just as sadly. You know there was absolutely no reason for you to go to LA with him, to spend Christmas with Nicole and Henry and whatever extended family would be there as well. It would never happen, never work. At least, not right now. Not like this.

The divorce proceedings were on break till after the holidays, both in and against Charlie’s favour. It meant not giving Henry two Christmases, one last normal one. But it also meant pretending, indulging in that… façade that him and Nicole have been keeping up for too fucking long now.

The deed would be done sometime in February, maybe March, Charlie couldn’t remember. He tried not to think about it too much. Think about losing everything-

“I know. But you’ll enjoy yourself. Henry will be happy.” You remind him, letting him hold you so, so tightly. His vice grip, digging into you, trying to anchor himself to you.

“I can’t believe I’m leaving you alone during fucking Christmas.” You laugh.

“I’m going home to see my parents, I won’t be alone, Charlie.” He nods his head, hearing the words you’re saying but he still can’t stop the guilt from creeping up on him. He doesn’t want you to think he’s abandoning you. He won’t abandon you, like everyone’s abandoned him. He just hoped you wouldn’t abandon him either.

Charlie presses his forehead against yours, his hands gripping your waist and pressing your body against his. Your arms wrap around his neck.

“I’ll call you this time, I promise. Every night… I’ll call.”

“Okay.” You giggle, believing him.

His hand sneaks its way up your jaw, gripping your cheeks gently but angling your face for you to meet his dark, dark eyes. You know that look, so familiar now. You feel the pressure start to rise inside you, heat pooling in the very pit of your stomach.

“You’ll be good for me?” You nod immediately, fervently.

“Yes, Charlie.”

“If I ask you to send me pictures, what’ll you do?”

“S-send you pictures.” Breathless, your voice sounds so breathless. Your eyelids threatening to close but you keep them on him, always.

“That’s my good girl.” He growls, tilting your face all the way to his lips, a kiss, a seal of approval. You moan against his lips, letting your eyelids flutter shut, imagining yourself in all those new lingerie sets he’s bought you over the last week.

Your early Christmas presents, he had told you.

“The… the taxis waiting out front.” You say against his lips, not wanting him to leave just yet, but also not wanting him to leave you high and dry before getting on a plane set for across the country for at least another week, probably longer. Charlie ignores you, shoving his tongue down your throat, his grip on your jaw moving down to your neck, squeezing ever so slightly, fingers ghosting over bruised skin, enough to make you fall further into his chest, gripping his perfectly ironed shirt, ruining it.

He pulls away all too soon, no doubt doing this to you on purpose. It was 7am and you were already whimpering into his parted lips.

“I-I’ll miss you.” You admit, heart crashing into your ribs.

You hadn’t meant to say it but he was making your brain foggy, your thoughts were jumbled together and you just let it slip past your lips. Charlie stares at you, red lips swollen like petals, cheeks matching, hair perfectly in place with your help nothing but fifteen minutes earlier. It feels like a lifetime has passed before he says anything back to you. The taxi honks outside on the curb.

“I’ll… I’ll miss you more.”

CHRISTMAS EVE - UPSTATE NEW YORK

It was relieving to be away from the city, surrounded by more wilderness, more foliage, more trees, more animals. A literal breath of fresh air that wasn’t tainted by sewage and the ever present scent of smoke coming from somewhere or someone.

You loved coming up here. Escaping. You hadn’t been back home since last Christmas. You moved away when you were quite young, the relationship you had with your parents was complicated, clashing personalities, it was difficult to understand each other when you were younger but there was clarity that came with age. They finally respected you, and you finally respected them as well, understanding them better.

You think spending so much time with Charlie and Henry gave you an insight into parenthood that you had never been privy too beforehand. You were thankful for that, not only did you appreciate your parents more, but now parenthood had many more benefits that you had never considered before. Magical, rewarding, fulfilling.

Charlie kind of made you feel that way too.

It was still awkward at times with your parents, that was unavoidable. No siblings around meant all eyes were on you. They were asking for too many details, prying too deep and you just never felt comfortable indulging in yourself this much. But you always came prepared, it was the holidays after all, things always got weird.

After Christmas Eve dinner, your parents invited you out on a walk with them around their little town. They did this every night apparently, just walking together, talking. It was cute, endearing. You declined their offer, however. Thankfully you weren’t sixteen anymore, and your parents didn’t press you any further to come along with them like they used to.

They’d be back in thirty minutes.

That gave you thirty minutes to call Charlie. Just as he instructed.

Earlier this evening, as your parents were beginning to prepare dinner, Charlie’s family was just finishing lunch out in California. A perfect time for a perfect distraction, or intrusion.

You had packed a few sets of the new lingerie Charlie had bought you, not knowing what he would want to see on you or how often you should switch it up. You nearly brought all of them but didn’t want to take up too much space in your luggage and be suspicious.

You put one on that you thought Charlie was particularly fond of, a skimpy little number that revealed more skin than hid, it’s colour complimenting your skin like it was made for you, made to hug your figure in all the right places. You forgot that Charlie had such a visual mind sometimes, he knew exactly what you would look good in.

Nervous and a bit shaky, you tucked yourself away into your childhood bedroom to take your pictures for Charlie. You felt like a teenager again.

Charlie was not pleased with the timing of your pictures, seeing as he was surrounded by family and innocently looked at his phone only to get a glimpse of your beautiful fucking body, all the blood going from his head straight to his cock. He nearly fainted. His cheeks lit up like Nicole’s Christmas tree and he stumbled from his chair. Thankfully, everyone seemed to be more occupied with paying attention to Henry than to notice him sprint to the bathroom to scold you over text.

That was hours ago. Charlie had told you to call him exactly at 11pm eastern time. That was only 8pm where he was but he said it worked out perfectly so you didn’t argue. You just waited patiently on your bed, number dialed on your phone and ready to call, all the clock head to do was strike eleven.

Finally, the clocks ding around the house, your thumb flies across your screen and you hold the phone up to your ear, worrying the flesh of your lip between your teeth. It rings once, twice, three times before you can hear his breath on the other end. It already sounds heavy.

“H-hi Charlie.”

“What are you wearing.” His voice is strained, maybe he’s already holding himself in his hand.

“Merry Christmas Eve.” You twist your fingers together nervously. Charlie grunts on the other end, a frustrated sound.

“I f-fucking told you, no pleasantries. I-it’ll only make us miss each other more-” You stayed quiet. You knew he was right, but you already missed him so much and hearing his voice was making it worse. You felt your lip tremble, you missed his arms, his warmth, his-

“Are you fucking pouting right now?” His voice was firm, sturdy, and annoyed.

“No, Charlie.” A lie.

“Good, now tell me what you’re wearing.”

“I’m wearing your favourite, the one from earlier. I’m barely covered.”

“Oh I know baby, your tits looked so fhuuuucking good in those pictures you sent me.” The fluctuation in his voice was rising and falling randomly, you could picture his hand wrapped tightly around his angry cock, the head flushed red, precum dribbling out the top, just begging to be licked. He tasted so good…

“A-are you touching yourself?”

“No, you didn’t tell me to.”

“G-good girl, you’re so fucking good to me, you know that?” You pictured his chest, the way he flushes right in the center, between his pecs. The way the red splotches climb up, up, up his neck and onto his cheeks and up to the peaks of his ears. You thought about the heavy rise and fall of his chest as well, how fucking wide he is, how much bigger than you he is. You audibly moaned.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about?”

“Y-you.”

“Be specific- fuck.”

“Um, your- your cock. How big it is, how big you are. How it feels when you stretch me out, when you go so deep I feel you in my stomach-”

“Keep going baby, I’m… I’m so f-UHcking close.”

“I think about the first time, a-a lot. How it felt the first time you split me open- fuck Charlie you’re so big I never think you’re going to fit but I always take it, I-”

“Yeah, yeah you always take me like the good little girl you are, such a good fucking slut for me, taking my cock in that tight fucking pussy.” He sneers, you can tell he’s talking from behind clenched teeth and you moan again, loudly. Your brain short circuits, what comes out next, comes from the deepest part of you.

“Oh Daddy,-”

“What did you just call me?”

Fuck.

You hadn’t really meant to say it, you were just so caught up in the moment, the feeling, the sound of him that you completely lost your inhibitions and let it slip out. You expected him to just end the call now.

“Charlie I’m so sorry-” He cuts you off with a firm call of your name.

“I asked you a question. What… did you call me?” Your stomach flips and your insides threaten to spill past your lips and onto your floor.

“Daddy.” You say so quietly you’re not sure he even heard you.

“I didn’t catch that.”

“Daddy.” Frustration laces your voice as you project the word throughout the entire upper floor of the house. He definitely hears it that time. You think you hear Charlie moan on the other end but you don’t want to be too hopeful.

“You wanna call me Daddy? Hmm? You want me to be your fucking Daddy, is that it?”

“N-no…” You’re not sure what he’s getting at, but you feel like he’s just going to torment you.

“Don’t fucking lie to me you little slut.” His breathing picks up again, his voice booming, heavy breaths between every few words. You can hear the slick of his hand as it moves quickly over his length.

“Yes! Yes I- I want you to…”

“Say it.”

“I want you to be my Daddy.” Charlie moans loudly again, his hand somehow moving faster. You can tell he’s close. You can’t believe he likes this. You love it.

“Yeah, I’ll be your fucking Daddy. You better fucking call me that non stop when I get back to you, my sweet little girl.” You moan this time, squeezing your thighs together, feeling your arousal trail slightly down onto your thigh. You were so distracted you hadn’t realized you’d completely soaked through your underwear.

“I will, Daddy.”

“Fuck, I’m-”

Confidence surged you. You still couldn’t believe he liked this but you finally gave in, feeding his desires. When you spoke, your voice was filled with something wicked, sickeningly sweet and most of all, evil.

“Are you going to cum for me, Daddy? Make a mess for me?”

You felt like you hadn’t even finished your sentence before a loud moan punched through your phone and into your ear. You moaned as well just from his release, feeling it in your mind and in your chest, squeezing your thighs again for any sort of friction. Charlie continued to moan through his release, you pictured his silky cum painting his taut abdomen and his beautiful chest. You imagined it blending in with his moles and freckles, you pictured yourself rubbing your hands through it, massaging it into his skin before licking it all up.

He wouldn’t even have to ask, you would just do it.

“Y-you’re fucking perfect… you fucking angel.” He’s so breathless, completely spent and wasted from your voice alone. You felt so hot. You needed to relieve yourself but you didn’t know if you should ask for permission or not. Before you could even debate it, Charlie spoke again.

“Go to bed, wouldn’t want Santa catching you up like this.” You laughed softly at his comment. Static on the other end. He said your name as if to check if you were still there.

“Yeah?”

“Merry Christmas.”

The line went dead.

JANUARY - BROOKLYN

You had sent Charlie pictures nearly every night after that. And you two called each other every other night as well.

He asked it of you and you couldn’t say no to your Charlie. It was a bit tricky while you were still staying with your parents, he would simply text you and you would have to scurry off to your room or the bathroom and snap as many flattering pictures of yourself as you could. You tried to make it seem less suspicious by drinking tons of water and just blaming it on your bladder.

But the new year had finally come, and you were now back home in your apartment. Charlie would be returning tonight and you were counting down the hours until you saw his taxi pull up on the curb side. You distracted yourself until then.

At around 7pm, you got an unexpected call from Charlie.

“Hi.” You felt like your smile was audible through the phone.

“Hey,” Charlie chuckled darkly, his voice always sounding deeper and richer through the receiver. “I just got in. I was wondering if you’d like to join us for dinner tonight?”

Us? He didn’t mean….

“It’s just me and Henry, Nicole’s uh, staying in LA until further notice. If you’re busy or if you can’t that’s-”

“I would love to,” The fact that Charlie would ask you to spend dinner with him and Henry warmed your heart beyond comprehension. Your weeks of loneliness suddenly dissolving into the background and becoming nothing more than a distant memory, a distant feeling. “but is Henry okay with it?”

“Of course he’s okay with it. He’s actually been talking about you quite a bit. I think he might have missed you more than I did,” Charlie choked a bit on his last words, “not that I didn’t miss you, I just meant that he, you know, Henry was-”

“It’s okay, Charlie I understood what you meant.” You giggle, finding his slight awkwardness endearing. How was it that you both were having incredible phone sex for the past two weeks and now you both sounded like teenagers calling their crush?

“So, you’ll come?”

“Yeah, I’ll come.” Charlie groans at your suggestive tone.

“Don’t start now.” His voice stern, unwavering. You laugh again, more mischievous this time. You test the waters, not stepping in enough to drown... just yet.

“I’ll be over in ten minutes, is that okay, Daddy?” You hear rustling on the other end of the phone and then Charlie cursing a low ‘fuck!’. You think you hear Henry’s voice too, followed by more of Charlie’s now muffled voice.

“Ten minutes is fine.”

Henry had bombarded you at the door, he wrapped his tiny arms around your legs and hugged himself tightly to you. It took everything in you not to cry, you knelt down so you could hug him back.

“I missed you.” He dug his cheek into your shoulder. This kid was the sweetest, he would melt your heart every time.

“I missed you too, Henry. How was LA? How was Christmas? Tell me everything!”

Henry grabbed your hand and dragged you into the living room where all his new toys were laid out, ready for him to play with. As he was pulling you there, Charlie emerged from around the doorway like an angel himself. Your eyes met and you felt as if you were moving in slow motion, and not being dragged at top speed by his child.

“Hi.” You greet, almost shyly. Unsure of how to act around him with Henry present.

“Hi.” Charlie repeats, grabbing your free hand for the briefest moment, giving it a tight squeeze until it's pulled out of his grasp by Henry.

You’re not sure how long you spent playing on the floor with Henry, him retelling you the events of the last two or three weeks while Charlie sat on the couch, glancing at the two of you every now and then. You tried not to think about the position you were in, kneeling on the floor, carpet digging into your knees, Charlie sitting tall above you on the couch, looking down at you from between his parted knees. It looked like such a natural position for him, almost like he was too comfortable like this, too familiar with it. You wanted to-

The doorbell rang, making both you and Henry jump from the sharp noise.

“Henry would you like to go pay the pizza guy?” Charlie asked, already pulling his wallet from the pocket in his pants.

“Yes!” Henry shouted, jumping up from the carpet, whisking the crisp bills from his dad’s hands and running to the door to answer it. Charlie figured he had a minute or less before Henry came back.

He lifted himself from the couch, taking your jaw into his hand and bringing you to stand with him. He crashed his lips into yours, violently shoving his tongue down your throat and you had to bite back the moan that threatened to spill through your lips and into his awaiting mouth. His hands had a deadly grip on your waist and on your jaw, you only wished he would ease up because you didn’t want Henry to wonder why you both looked so flustered.

“I can’t wait until tonight.” He said against your lips, his hand on your jaw moving to trail down your throat.

“W-what’s tonight?”

“I got it!” Henry came rushing back into the living room but not before Charlie pushed himself away from you and let go of your throat and waist. It looked like nothing had happened.

“Let’s go set it up in the dining room.” Henry stomped his foot in retaliation, whining slightly.

“Nooo, Dad, can we please watch a movie with pizza?”

“Henry, we have a guest-”

“Please!”

“What movie do you want to watch?” You asked, budding in, trying to stop a tantrum in its tracks. Henry’s eyes lit up and he glanced between you and his dad.

“Have you ever seen ‘Frozen’?” You actually had, but he didn’t need to know that. You gasped.

“I haven’t!” You glanced over at Charlie. His eyes were dark but an innocent smirk pulled at his lips.

He was thinking about how this just meant it would take longer before he could finally fuck you again, a two hour movie cockblock. It had been over two weeks since he had felt your body against his, nothing to satiate him but the sound of your voice and some mediocre photos. Charlie thinks he should show you how to take some really good ones sometime soon. Not that yours didn’t most definitely do the trick, he just thinks he likes the idea of directing you, positioning you...

But Charlie was also thinking about how he found it very sweet, very heartwarming to watch you bond with Henry. He loved watching you have such a good time with him and treat him like a person, not just a child. And he could tell that Henry really liked spending time with you too. Not just from how much he talked about you when you weren’t around, but the smile that lit up his face when you came over or when he went over to your place.

It was getting harder and harder to get Henry to smile like that.

You all sat down on the couch, little wooden fold up tables in front of your seat to hold your plate of pizza slices. Henry sitting between you and Charlie, of course.

Henry sang along passionately to almost every song, sometimes with bites of pizza in his mouth and Charlie would scold him for it, afraid he would choke but Henry ignored his dad’s requests, just continuing to belt out along with the characters on screen.

As the movie progressed and neared the end, you could feel Charlie getting more and more sleepy on his side of the couch. He would rearrange his sitting position every now and then and his eyes would close for minutes at a time. He looked so soft with his arms folded across his chest, his eyelashes fluttering against the tops of his cheeks, his lips coming to rest in the softest little pout. You nudge Henry gently and he turns to look up at you.

“Looks like your dad’s asleep.” You giggle, pointing to Charlie. Henry immediately jumps on him, startling Charlie awake.

“Dad I can’t believe you fell asleep again!” Henry pouts, grabbing Charlie’s face between his hands and shaking him from side to side. Charlie grabs his son’s little hands to stop his efforts, sitting himself up straighter on the couch and hugging Henry to his chest.

“Mmm’wasn’t sleeping.” Henry rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t you go get your daddy a blanket so he can get comfy for the rest of the movie.” You wink at Henry, sending him searching upstairs for the perfect blanket for his dad.

Charlie groans and drops his head on the back of the couch, his hand draping across is as well, coming to rest on the very tip of your shoulder. He wraps his fingers along your muscles, squeezing the flesh into his palm, tightly.

“I heard that.”

“Heard what?” Daddy.

His head lifts from the couch to glare at you, his stare deadly, shooting right to the deepest parts of you. Why were you teasing him like this?

“Dad is the dinosaur one okay?” Henry calls from up the stairs, slowly making his way down and back to the couch.

“It’s perfect, Henry. Thank you.” Charlie takes the blanket from Henry and kisses the top of his forehead before he settles back on the couch, cuddling up next to his dad.

You unpause the movie, admiring the two of them every now and then, watching Henry becoming more and more sleepy as the film nears its end. As the credits roll, Charlie removes the blanket from around himself and moves it to wrap around Henry.

“I’m going to go tuck him in.” Charlie whispers to you. You nod sweetly at the two of them. Charlie carries Henry in his arms towards the stairs before Henry grumbles, calling out your name to you back on the couch.

“Will you come too?”

You look to Charlie for guidance, you don’t want to overstep any boundaries. You’ve never been in the upstairs part of their apartment, you’ve never seen the rest of their place, Henry’s room, Charlie’s room, their bathroom. You’d never seen any of it and it all felt incredibly intimate and incredibly wrong in some way. You didn’t want to accidentally see something you shouldn’t. But Charlie just smiles back at you and nods his head gently.

“Of course, Henry.” You follow them up the stairs, smiling at Henry who smiles that shiny little kid smile at you before laying his head back down on Charlie’s shoulder, resting his eyes again.

Henry’s bedroom is exactly like you imagined it would be. Colourful blue walls, vibrant comic book patterned bed sheets, toys absolutely everywhere yet Charlie avoids them like their place on the floor has meaning, like he’s ingrained it into his mind from stepping on them too many times, muscle memory. You stay in the doorway, leaning on the door frame watching them, not wanting to intrude.

Charlie carefully lowers Henry onto his bed, tucking him in the covers and kissing his forehead. He says sweet words to his son, lulling him further to sleep and Henry smiles dopily back at him, whispering a quiet ‘love you, dad.’

Charlie turns around to face you, he flicks his head in the direction of the stairway mouthing the word ‘go’ to you, you nod and head down the stairs, waiting for him in the living room. You decide to settle yourself at the foot of the couch, sitting on your knees, feeling the burn of the carpet again and waiting for your Charlie.

He descends the stairs slowly, achingly slowly. Making you wait for it, making you feel the weight in his steps, his foot pressing into the wood, applying his weight until he shifts down another step before finally, finally, making his way to you.

You look up at him from your place on the floor, you try not to let your mouth hang open as you gaze up at him, this beautiful man. Sometimes, when you look at him, you wonder if whatever god or gods were out there made him like this on purpose. Sent him here looking the way he does to taunt you, to test you. Test your strength, your will to defy him when you know there is no humanly way possible to deny this man of what he wants. And what he wants is you. Why would you say no? How could you?

After observing you on the floor below him, Charlie seats himself down on the couch like before, knees spread, looking down at you. You scoot closer to him, hoping he doesn’t tell you to stop. His hand comes to rest on his knee before he pats it.

“Lay your head down on me.” His voice rumbles in his chest. You think you feel it through the floorboards, through your knees, up your spine and in the pit of your stomach. You listen and scoot closer, resting your head on his bony knee, nuzzling it with your cheek and looking up at him through thick lashes. You continue looking at him as you press a tender kiss as well, just for fun.

The lights are dim in the living room, the time ticking closer to midnight, Henry asleep upstairs. You both had to be quiet, you both knew this. Charlie’s hand comes to brush against your cheekbone, he trails his index finger all along the valleys of your face and then moving into your hair, gripping the back of it into a fist before relaxing again, bringing his hand back to hold your cheek.

“I’ve missed this.” He says so quietly. You nod, biting your lip.

“Me too.” You say, eagerness beginning to fill your voice. You adjust your position, coming to lean further into him, closer to his crotch where you can tell he needs you. Charlie hums contentedly.

“Mhmmm. Tell me what exactly you missed. Who you missed.” You let your hand glide over his knee, over his muscular thigh and towards his crotch, feather light touches along the fabric of his pants. You could feel how hard he was, it seemed painful.

“You. I missed your cock too... Daddy.”

There it was. He found what he was looking for. His hand found its way into a fist again in your hair, tugging it tightly, his head falling back against the couch as you pressed your lips over his covered cock, straining in his pants.

“You can do better than that,” he groaned, voice almost as strained as his cock yet still so forceful, “show Daddy how much you really missed him.”

You whimper at his tone, your voices both so hushed, rasped and desperate, spurring each other on much quicker than usual. Your hands, shaky with desire, reached up for his belt, grasping the cold metal into your hands and unbuckling it as quickly as you could. Only when you got to his zipper, did Charlie stop you with a light tap to your cheek.

“Teeth.” He scolded. You nodded.

You brought the zipper in between your teeth, biting down on the tiny piece of metal and slowly dragging it down over the hill his cock was creating in his pants. The heat radiating from his body was palpable, you could feel it coming onto your face the lower you dragged the zipper and the more he was revealed to you. You could also smell him, that smell that was undeniably Charlie; musky, earthy, a hit of fabric detergent and just the natural smell of his skin, like almonds in the summer. It made you dizzy, drunk off of him already.

You hadn’t even gotten him in your mouth yet.

You nuzzled your face into his clothed crotch, feeling his hard member pressing into your cheek, you could feel it pulsing, you could feel him wanting, waiting for the moment your mouth would take his length as far back as you could. You whimpered at the thought.

“You like it? You like my cock?”

“Yeah, I love it.”

“Then show me with that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” He sneered, pulling harder on your hair. You hummed and smiled, you felt giddy, maybe you really were drunk. You nuzzled your face into his crotch one more time before bringing both of your hands up to his waist, letting your fingertips dance around his beautiful skin that lay revealed to you above the waistband, you lean up, up, up pressing the softest, delicatest kisses to his skin.

Charlie groaned, pressing on the back of your head, pushing your face further into his tummy. You left more and more kisses before you gave him a tentative bite, not letting your teeth sink in too much before you lave your tongue over the abused flesh.

“Fuck that feels- fucking good.” Charlie moaned, looking down at the new mark that would only darken itself by tomorrow as more blood rushes to the affected area. It was placed beautifully next to his hip bone. You think it looked pretty. So did he.

You finally let your fingertips dip into his waistband but not before latching your teeth onto the stretchy fabric as well, aiding your fingers in removing them. You dragged it down, down, down his skin, just until his cock sprang free and laid heavy on his lower stomach. Charlie hissed, his hips bucking slightly from the sudden freedom.

He has the prettiest cock you think you’d ever seen. You never get used to seeing it, taking it in your mouth or your cunt. The stretch is always so painfully good, you’ve come to crave it. And going without it for the past however many weeks has made you near delirious for it. You stick your tongue out and run it all along the underside right to the very tip, where a shiny, pearly bead of precum has just begun to spill over. You hum as you lick it up, eyes nearly rolling back into your head.

“Don’t be a fucking tease.” Charlie grits from behind clenched teeth. You look up at him innocently, you notice that he’s clenching and unclenching his jaw like clockwork, his eyes look glassy and his cheeks are a few shades darker. He already looks so disheveled, so perfect like this.

“I can’t help it… it’s so pretty.”

“You think Daddy has a pretty cock?” You nod your head, humming, which you can’t seem to stop doing tonight, he just has you feeling so content, so safe. You don't think you could be like this with anyone else. You trace your fingers along his length, watching it bob from the slightest of touches, even Charlie tries to bite back his groans.

“Can-can I kiss it?”

“Please.” You lower your head towards his length, pressing your lips so softly onto his red angry head, giving little kitten licks in between kisses which has Charlie gripping your hair like a vice, afraid you’ll float away. You like the way his stomach flexes in response to your touch, like his body is bracing himself for the tidal wave of pleasure that’s bound to hit at any moment.

You finally take the spongy pink head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it before letting a few inches fall past your lips as well. Charlie’s tummy flexes even more, the v shaped muscle becoming more and more prominent and you moan onto his cock. His free hand that had been clenched into a fist comes to hold one side of your head and the other comes to meet it. He holds your head in his hands and forces you to take more of him, but not all of it just yet. You start bobbing your head up and down on his length, his hands helping you find his ideal speed.

“Fuck yes, oh my god, j-just like that-” Charlie moans your name, his fingernails digging into your scalp making you moan on his cock again, only making him dig deeper, pressing your head further down his length, forcing you to take him until he hits the back of your throat.

“Gonna let Daddy f-fuck that pretty little whore mouth of yours?” You let your jaw go slack more than it already has and do your best to nod with his cock half way down your throat, tears already beginning to brim in the corner of your eyes. Charlie starts lifting his hips off the couch slightly, all the while moving your head further up and down his cock, forcing it down your throat as far as it’ll go without you making obscenely loud gagging noises.

His son was asleep right upstairs, after all.

You let your eyes roll back into your head, letting Charlie take control and just fuck his cock into your mouth like you know he needs to, like he knows you need it too. It’s been too fucking long. Too fucking long since he’s had you like this. At his disposal, his little plaything to do whatever he pleases with. And you fucking love it.

The cool, sharp metal of his unzipped zipper digs into your jaw and occasionally your neck, biting into your skin and scratching your skin when Charlie lifts his hips up particularly high but you don’t care. In fact, you welcome the pain, embracing it as a mark of Charlie’s rough loving. You hope it draws blood.

“Fuck, your mouth i-is so fucking perfect, so warm... I don’t-” He doesn’t finish his sentence, his eyes screw shut and you can feel his cock growing impossibly harder. He looks down at you, his face twisted in absolute pleasure as he loses himself in your tight little mouth. He pulls you off his cock with all of his strength. A trail of saliva connecting your spit swollen lips to the head of his cock. You start pumping him quickly with your fist.

“No-no wait I don’t…”

“I want it Charlie, please,” Charlie throws his head back, moaning your name, “cum in my mouth... please.”

You nearly whine that last part. Charlie grabs your hair and tugs it, shaking your head a bit.

“I want to fuck you, I don’t wanna cum yet- FUCK!” You hadn’t stopped your hand movements, your fist moving faster over his cock while he fights his release.

“You can fuck me tomorrow.” You say quickly before attaching your lips around the head of his cock, sucking on it until you feel his thighs, abdomen, hands, mind and soul tense up before he bites back his guttural moans, letting them rumble through his chest like thunder passing, before spilling himself onto your tongue. You moan as it lands, letting it slide down your throat as you taste him, taste all of him until he’s completely drained.

You look up at him through heavy lashes, coated thick in tears that have streamed down your cheeks. Chest heaving, abdomen pulled taught, cheeks incredibly flushed, lips swollen, eyes heavy and tired. Completely spent. He looked so beautiful, your Charlie. So beautiful like this.

“S-show me.” His hand reaches for your jaw, pinching your cheeks to force your jaw and mouth open. You stick your tongue to show him. All gone, you swallowed all of his cum, for him.

“Good girl.” He whispered, patting your cheek affectionately. You smiled sweetly at him, coming up with your hands resting your weight on his thighs, pressing your swollen lips to his. As you extend your knees to stand, you feel the ache in the joints, the bruises already present, no doubt. You loved the pain. Your lips glide effortlessly across each other, so tired, so worn out but always wanting.

“Stay, please.” He says against your lips. You shake your head, no. It was a simple answer. A simple predicament.

“Henry.”

You pull back to look into Charlie’s eyes, he pulls you into his lap and he winces as you apply just a bit too much weight onto the base of his cock. You look into his eyes, already so sad at the idea of you leaving. But Henry would ask too many questions in the morning.

Why is the nice lady from next door still here, Dad?

Did she stay the night, Dad?

Did she sleep in your bed, Dad?

You and Mom’s bed, Dad?

“I know, I know.” Charlie says, defeated. He presses you into his chest, hugging you to him tightly, tighter than you were expecting. It was a hopeful thought. He understood why it couldn’t happen, couldn’t work. Maybe he just wanted you to entertain the idea for a minute with him. Maybe it would happen one day.

“I really did miss you.” He whispers into your hair, cradling the back of your head with his large, warm hand, pressing you further into the nook of his neck.

“I did too. I really missed you too, Charlie.”

MARCH - BROOKLYN

Charlie was currently back from his third visit to Los Angeles, hunting burroughs for the perfect new home for himself and for Henry. Maybe for you as well, but Charlie didn’t like to dwell on that for too long, he couldn’t allow himself such hopeful thoughts, he would only be let down.

Would you really want to move in with him? Was that moving too quickly? Would you think he was insane? Crazy? Obsessed? The truth was, he is all of those things; insane, crazy, obsessed with you. He couldn’t help it, no. Not when it came to you.

He would always be desperate for your affection, your attention.

Things were escalating with the divroce. Nicole and Charlie had turned bitter, viscous, backstabbing, conniving. Both fighting for a child who has no intention of hurting anyone, certainly not his mother or father.

Henry had no idea what weight his actions or words held, no idea what it meant when someone came over to observe him and his dad, or him and his mom. When they sent someone out to New York to watch him there, sometimes you would be over too. They asked you so many questions, he didn’t understand why. Why were strangers suddenly so involved in every little thing his parents did? Were they in trouble? Were they bad people? Was he a bad kid? Did they hate him?

Henry pouts as you hold his hand, walking up the driveway to the new apartment Charlie was almost one hundred percent decided on renting. It was in more of a family oriented neighbourhood, still close to his school. Somehow, it had a decent sized backyard (which you had never heard of in New York, even Brooklyn), three bedrooms, an office, a beautiful kitchen, it was basically perfect in Charlie’s eyes.

The first time he visited it back in February, he sent you dozens of pictures and little videos when he had gone alone. He quickly booked another appointment for you to go and look at him with it so he could get your opinion. He made it very clear how important your opinion was to him on this matter, he was always asking you questions about the apartment, even bringing it up randomly. He would scroll through the pictures he had taken, scrutinizing every detail and ask you about it.

Do you think the backyard is big enough?

What if I end up getting Henry a dog? Would there be enough space for that?

Do you really like the kitchen? Be honest.

What about the office room? Do I really need that? Is that too much?

What about the guest bedroom?

You wonder if he was so invested in your opinion because he trusted you, or because he wanted you to move in with them. Neither of you had ever spoken about it before, never had that conversation. And even if you did, Henry would always have the final say. If he didn’t want you living with them, well, that was that. You couldn’t argue with Henry, not when his childhood and upbringing was in question. Especially after this divorce. Charlie would do anything for him. Even if it meant risking you.

Charlie ended up getting the house he had been eyeing for nearly a month.

Him and Henry would restart here, no painful memories embedded in the walls, in the flooring, in the holes in the walls, the slammed door frames, the windows that threatened to shatter from all the screaming and crying. None of that was here, it would never be here. None of that would happen again.

Charlie hadn’t asked you to move in.

And you hadn’t necessarily been waiting on him asking either.

You were already coming over pretty frequently. And not just on account of Charlie, Henry still loved seeing you and hanging out with you. You still babysat him when things at the theatre ran late.

When Nicole moved to LA, Charlie was thrown full force into his work. Forced to recast, rework, and rewrite so many things that she had just left hanging. You watched Henry those nights, stayed until Charlie got home and then took the subway back to your place, next to their now vacant apartment.

You were so lonely those nights you couldn’t sleepover at Charlie’s. You missed his warmth. You hadn’t realized just how much comfort you got knowing he was just next door, just beyond a thick wall. You could have touched it and felt his presence radiating through. But now, nothing. It was cold, dark, empty, meaningless.

And because Charlie had been so overworked for the past few months, the stress was starting to get to him. The constant obstacles and backtracking in the theatre production. The random calls from Nicole, his lawyer, the random flights down to LA, the weeks Henry spent away from him, the nights he lost himself in you, using you as an outlet. You let him, you liked it when he took it out on you, you liked how rough he would get, all that pent up anger being pounded out into your hot cunt. You loved it. Loved when he got mad, frustrated. You were always there for him. You would always be there for him, you hoped he knew that.

But what you didn’t love, was when he started neglecting you.

He would go days sometimes without calling you, so much as even texting you. You would get no word from him for a couple of days and sometimes you would just randomly piece together that he was in LA and he just forgot to tell you. You tried to not let it upset you, you couldn’t imagine what he was going through, the stress of the divorce, the potential of losing Henry, his whole life hanging by a thread. It really wasn’t his fault that he just forgot to mention it to you.

Sometimes he would lash out at you, a small comment or action rubbing him the wrong way and he would erupt, say something he didn’t mean or just walk out on you. Times when things go heated, you tried your best to keep you composure for his sake. He didn’t need you being upset at him too on top of everything else, so you kept it in, for Charlie.

Sometimes he would lash out before you two went out with his theatre friends. He would smile and hug everyone, but kept somewhat of a distance from you. Barely speaking to you, barely including you in the conversation unless someone else asked you a question or directly addressed you. What did you look like to them? Friends? Friends with benefits? Did you look like his whore? The babysitter that he was secretly fucking?

You kind of were.

You drank a lot that night. He fucked you when you got back to his new place. He fell asleep quickly after. You pulled on your long sleeve shirt and nice dress pants that you had been wearing that night after laying next to his warm, sleeping body for thirty minutes, debating, thinking, worrying, dying inside.

You stood up and walked to the door, you looked back to find him watching you. You nervously tugged at your sleeves, staring back at him until he turned around, pushing his face into the pillow, as if silently willing you to leave. You left. You called a taxi and left. You didn’t sleep that night.

You think it was because he told you he was going to Los Angeles again.

Maybe he mentioned Nicole? His lawyer? Something about Henry? The theatre?

You couldn’t remember what started all of this yelling, smashing. You were over at the new place, helping Charlie organize some things for Henry before he came back with him the next time he went out to LA again, which was in a few days.

Charlie was pissed and this time, you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold your calm resolve for him.

“Charlie if you just need some space from me tell me, it won’t hurt my feelings, I understand.” You decide to try and change the subject, maybe just cutting to the chase. Offering him what you think he wants, alone time. Time away from you, from everything. There’s no way he doesn’t need a break.

You hated how quickly you would give everything up for him. You would do anything for him, anything he asked.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He asked, eyes squinting in confusion. You sigh, running a hand down your face, your patience was running thin and you didn’t want to accidentally set him off.

“Everytime you see me you manage to get frustrated or mad about something. I just don’t want to give you more problems than you already have. I know you’ve been really stressed.”

“Elaborate, please.” His voice was clipped as he put his hands on his hips, stopping what he was doing and turning to you, seemingly giving you more attention than he had in weeks. You huff, not sure how to explain this to him.

“Charlie I-”

“No, what the fuck are you trying to say? That if I fucking ended things you would just leave? No questions asked?” His voice boomed, echoing off the newly painted walls, shaking the frames of yours and Henry’s dinosaur paintings from all those months ago.

He takes a step closer to you, you take one back, then another just for good measure. Your back hits the wall and you take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as best as you can with him staring at you with those eyes. Those fucking eyes. They still managed to twinkle even when he was angry.

“I- I would… for Henry. You put Henry first, I put Henry first. If he wanted me gone-”

“He doesn’t fucking want you gone, you know that.” Charlie scoffed, walking closer to you, his face red in frustration, maybe anger. He says your name, it's never sounded so sad.

“Why are you lying to me?” He’s a step away from you now, chest heaving with laboured breaths. He’s trying to compose himself, you can tell. Trying to stay calm but his patience was wearing thin.

“I’m not, I w-wouldn’t lie to you, Charlie.”

“You would leave me?” You nod your head, lip trembling, tears burning, stinging in your eyes, your breathing becoming heavy too. Was this it?

“If that’s what you wanted, if you want me to leave I would.”

“Why? Why would you do something so fucking stupid?” His lip is also trembling, you feel like he’s about to spit in your face, yell at you for being such an idiotic little girl. The thought alone had you squeezing your thighs together, this was so fucked. You shouldn’t like this, shouldn’t like when he got frustrated, you resented the fact that you did.

You couldn’t think straight, the words leaving your mouth didn’t feel your own, like you were speaking some other language, possessed by a foreign being.

“Be-because…” Bile rising in your throat, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Fucking why? Tell me why!” He was yelling, his face in yours and his voice breaking.

“Because I… because I love-”

And then Charlie was kissing you.

Charlie was kissing you.

His tongue swiped into your mouth like he was trying to strangle you with it. His hands came to your cheeks and pressed your body flush against his and the wall, sandwiched between the two. He was hard, you could feel his cock pressing into your stomach as he rolled his hips into you, you moaned into his mouth, tears spilling down your cheeks. He didn’t wipe them away.

“Don’t say it… don’t- fucking say it.” He said against your lips, voice so hush, so quiet and scared.

“Why? Why are you afraid of me?”

“I’m not fucking afraid of you.” He says, confused, angry, lips rough on your own. He keeps trying to kiss you, you don’t want to push him away but you try, you push on his tough chest, his heart beating wildly in its cage.

“Yes you are. You keep pushing me away.” You cry, hiccupping on a ragged sob that leaves your chest, as you ironically try to push him away from you. Charlie tries to kiss you through it, trying to suffocate you.

“I’m not.” He fights.

“You are.”

“I’m not-” You push, harder this time. He stumbles back, lips already swollen, his eyes are wet, glossy too. Like yours.

“You are!” You yell, voice breaking, choking on your tears. “Don’t act like you haven’t been treating me differently for the past month.”

When Charlie says nothing, you continue.

“You don’t call me, you don’t text me, I only come over to babysit Henry when he’s here and when he’s in LA you just fuck me and then get mad about something and leave. When we go out you don’t look at me, you don’t touch me-” Your voice falters, you’re not sure you can go on with the way the sobs wrack through your chest and into the rest of your body. You feel weak, like you might collapse into the ground. You wish you would, you wish the floor would just swallow you up and you could disappear.

Charlie sees red. His fists shake, clenched into fists at his side after you’ve pushed him away. His palms burn to touch you. He knows he shouldn’t, he knows he should listen to what you’re saying, let you talk, remind him how much he’s been hurting you. He knows what he’s doing, he’s not stupid.

He wasn’t trying to push you away, he definitely wasn’t doing it on purpose. But he was sabotaging himself, sabotaging everything because he felt he didn’t deserve you. He was a bad father, a selfish person for wanting to take Henry away from his mother, for wanting Henry to himself, a bad person for hating Nicole, a woman he once loved.

Love.

It was all because of love wasn’t it? Charlie wants to laugh at the thought. Wants to laugh and scream and yell and hit something at the thought of stupid fucking love. Was he really becoming that nihilistic already?

Would he come to hate you like how he hates Nicole? Would you come to hate him the way he hates himself? The way Henry probably hates him? The way his parents hated him-

His knees hit a hard surface, blistering, blinding pain shooting up his legs. He’s collapsed onto the floor before he’s even aware of it. Unaware of the sobs that push and pull at his lungs, forcing his chest to heave in the oxygen before choking it back out along with spit and tears.

He’s crying. You’re crying. Fuck, how did it come to this. This was all too familiar. He feels numb.

How could he love you when love was the scariest thing? When love was the most frightening emotion he had ever experienced. Everything that’s happened to him for the past two fucking years was because of love. Love would ruin everything. It always did. But he couldn’t…. he couldn’t lose-

“Y-you… you can’t- leave me.” He chokes, hands planted shakily on the floor, holding his upper body up, his arms weak.

You… you’ve never seen Charlie like this. And honestly? It scares you. Sure, you’ve heard him yell, scream, cry at Nicole, his lawyer over the phone. But this was different. This was visceral, burning desire, regret, shame, embarrassment… this was everything coming crashing down around him at once.

Fuck.

This is what you’ve been trying to avoid over the past month. That’s why you’ve tiptoed around him, letting him get angry, letting him yell, letting him ignore you, use you, fuck you and ask for nothing in return. You were avoiding this.

But maybe you had just prolonged the explosion? Let enough gas build up before it eventually burst into flames.

Eventually…

You had definitely made this worse, by ignoring it you’ve let it fester, let it rise and rise and rise, just pushing down the lid for your own sake. Maybe it was both of your own faults? You don’t know, you don’t care. This was bound to happen at some point. And it just so happened to be today. All you really care about is Charlie.

You kneel down on the floor in front of him, resting your palm on the floor like he has, letting your pinky finger graze against his. The slightest of touch as to not scare him off. He flinches, his head still hung low, eyes screwed shut.

You place your hand on top of his, feeling his burning skin, testing the waters. He doesn’t pull back so you continue your efforts. You intertwine your fingers with his, slowly, slowly lifting his hand up off the ground and closer to you. He still doesn’t look up. You keep moving his hand until it’s on your chest, covering your left breast. Only then does he look up, searching your eyes.

He feels it then. That same thing he felt the first time… the first time he had you. Your beating heart, pumping wildly in your chest just like his was. Did you know? Did you know what you did to him? Did you know how much he needed you, how much he thinks of you? Did you know that he… that he-

“I won’t.” You say, cutting him off mid thought. His hand clutches onto you through the fabric of your shirt, trying to reach through you and grab your heart into his hands. He wants to pull it from you, keep it for himself and lock it away, make sure you never fucking leave him. He was so selfish.

“I won’t leave you Charlie.” You say again when he says nothing, just watching his hand twist into the fabric of your shirt, tugging it strangely until he’s rid you of it. He places his hand back on your chest, feeling your heart better now through the barrier of only your flesh.

“I…. I’m sorry.” “You said you wouldn’t lie to me?” It feels like the first thing he’s said in hours, his voice rough around the edges, gooey in the middle. His post-yelling voice, you knew it too well.

“I wouldn’t.”

“Then why… why would you even say that? That you would leave me?”

“Because if that’s what you wanted, what you needed… I would do it. I would do anything you wanted, anything for you, Charlie.”

“Why?” He couldn’t understand. There was no fathamobale reason as to why he would deserve such devotion. Especially from you.

You’re quiet, unsure of how to answer him. This was the same back and forth you both had before he exploded, when you almost told him you… that you lo-

“I-I don’t know how to answer… you told me not to say it.” You whimper, tears spilling from your eyes again. His hand comes to hold your cheek, thumb swiping away the tear. You nuzzle into his hand, kissing his palm. You stay there for a moment, resting your face in his palm, feeling his warmth radiating from his hands, letting a silence wash over the two of you. It was sort of peaceful. A chaotic peace.

“Charlie, I-”

“Don’t... don’t say it.” You cry some more, tears spilling. His hand moves to your throat, squeezing gently, you find it oddly comforting.

“But I want to, I want to say it, please.” You grab the wrist of the hand holding your throat, squeezing his flesh, asking.

“No.”

“Charlie-”

“I said no.” He grabs your jaw, shaking you from side to side a little. You whimper, eyes screwing shut, pushing more tears past the precipice. He pulls you into his lap, you’re putty in his hands, letting him move you however he needs to move you. He holds you in his arms, your legs wrap around his waist and his legs bring him to stand up somehow, his strength always shocking you.

“You can’t say it... you can’t leave.” He continues, you sniffle, hiding your face in his neck, grabbing onto his hair as he carries you somewhere through the apartment, up some stairs…

“I’m sorry, Charlie, I’m- sorry.” You hiccup and cry into his neck, wetting the skin. You press your lips over the newly wet skin, feeling his heartbeat flutter underneath, teeth grazing the thin flesh.

Suddenly he’s lowering you down, down, down until you come in contact with a soft surface, his mattress. Charlie crawls on top of you, you let him rest between your thighs, keeping your legs up high on his waist.

“Don’t ever fucking leave me.” You shake your head from side to side in agreement with him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. His hand trails down the length of your body roughly, burning your flesh in its unforgiving path. You’re left only in your jeans since he removed your shirt when you were still downstairs.

“I won’t, I-I didn’t mean-” You can barely form a proper sentence, choking on your own tears and sadness that wrack through your mind and body. Charlie’s hand in already palming your sex through the thick denim you wear, you whimper, trying to squeeze your thighs together but his body blocks them.

“Stop talking.” He barely gets out the words before he’s pressing his lips to yours again, letting his lips glide against your wobbly and swollen ones. You breathe each other in, letting your tongues dance across one anothers as you gasp and cry into his mouth. It’s all teeth and all tongue, it’s messy, clumsy, desperate, burning. You don’t care, he doesn’t either when your teeth clack against each other, nibbling on lips, biting sometimes.

Charlie flips you over underneath him so that you face the sheets, sliding down your body and roughly tugging down your jeans along with your underwear in one swift motion. You gasp as your wet cunt comes in contact with the cool air of the darkening day. Charlie stands on his knees behind you, pulling your ass up higher, higher, higher until he’s satisfied. His cheeks are warm, his ears pink at the peaks. Before either of you even have time to think, his hand comes down harshly onto your right ass cheek, you cry out, gripping the sheets by your head.

“Ch-Charlie!” You gasp, earning you another smack to your other cheek. You push your head down into the covers, trying to muffle your cries and moans as he keeps going.

His smacks you again, and again, and again and again until you’re a sobbing mess in the sheets. Words, languages lost to you in your muddled brain. A pool of spit near your mouth soaked into the white fabric, only a wet spot remaining to show for evidence of your euphoria. You can feel the imprint of his hand on your ass, you know it's burning red, you know the skin is raised and puffy. You fucking love it.

Charlie’s chest is heaving, breaths labored as he takes it all out on you like he knows you need it, knows you love it. He does too; love it and need it. The way your ass gets so much brighter, how big the imprint he’s left on you is. How fucking perfect you are for him... He’s pulling off his shirt before he knows it, shedding his pants too until he’s in nothing but his underwear. You’ve stayed exactly where you are, not daring to move a muscle since he hasn’t instructed you otherwise.

“So now you listen.” Charlie mutters to himself, it's barely audible to you since the blood is coursing so loudly through your veins, through your ears. You’re buzzing.

Charlie pushes you back down on the mattress so you lay completely flat. He pulls your jeans and underwear down the rest of your legs until you lay there bare before him. He inhales sharply at the sight of you. He could see the way you glisten for him, he could feel it on his hand when he had spanked you, your arousal having begun to trail down the tops of your thighs, he moaned at the sight.

His hand comes flying down, this time spanking you roughly on your pussy causing you to lurch forward into the sheets, crying out his name pathetically again. He leans over you, keeping his hand clutched tightly around your cunt, feeling your juices seep between his fingers, you moan and try to press back into his hand but he just slaps it again, your eyes screwing shut. He’s nearly got his entire weight on top of you, his hot breath fanning across your cheek as he comes close to your face.

“You’re so fucking wet for me… you want it that badly?” You nod your head vigorously.

“Yes! Yes, Charlie I want you, I-I need you so badly, please.”

“Hmmm, what do you need?”

“Anything, y-your fingers…”

“Where”

“... in me, in me please.” You’re completely desperate, your crying and sobbing from earlier making you especially weak to his ways, his voice, his body. God, he could do anything to you, and you would let him, you would beg him, you would thank him.

Slowly, Charlie sinks one thick finger into your soaking cunt. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he pumps it slowly, in and out, in and out of you. You try and push your hips back to meet the small thrust of his finger but he keeps you pinned down.

Charlie could feel you clenching around his single digit and he groaned next to your ear, nibbling on the soft lobe as he continued his ministrations. You whined, withered underneath the weight of his body, his hot chest pressing into your back, pressing you into the mattress.

“Charlie, please I-”

“What? You need more? You need more from me?”

“Please.” Charlie draws his index finger out of you before joining it with his middle one, probing your entrance teasingly, swirling his fingers around it but never going in.

“Fuck-”

“Do you think you deserve it?” He didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve you, your pussy, none of it. He was only projecting his worthlessness onto you. He didn’t mean it, he couldn’t.

“N-no.” You say, tears welling in your eyes from a multitude of things. Overstimulation being one of them. You tried to get your hips to stop pressing into his hand but it was so hard when the temptation was right there.

“No… you don’t.” He kisses the tears that slip from your eye, pressing a finger to your mouth and you gladly take it in, laving your tongue around his salty, rough skin. His two fingers at your entrance finally push in deeper, causing you to cry out around his finger that was in your mouth, drool slipping past your lips.

Then he starts pumping, quickly, and you can’t stop the way your hips push into his hand, trying to meet him halfway through his thrusts, needing more so badly. You moan around his fingers, he echoes your moans back into your ear. You can feel his cock filling out, getting harder and harder against the back of your legs where it still lays confined in his underwear.

All too quickly he pulls his fingers from you and spanks your pussy again, you choke on a cry around the finger that’s still in your mouth. You’re already wrecked, and he’s nowhere near done with you.

“You only get to cum on my cock, understand?” You nod your head with vigour, eyes trying to meet his from where he’s positioned, behind you yet over top of you. You can feel him moving around, pulling his fingers from your mouth and his underwear off as best as he can without moving too far away from you.

“I understand, Charlie.” You cry, the tears unrelenting at this point, beyond your control.

Fuck, what weas he doing? Why was he doing this now?

What other way did he really have though, to show you what you mean to him? Definitely not words, no. No matter how much he writes for the theatre, words could never come close to describing what he feels for you, what he needs from you, wants from you, what he wants to give to you, tell you, provide you. None of it, no language would do.

Nothing would come closer to his body on you, in you, moving in tandem with you, hearts so close together that he loses sense of himself and just feels you wrapped so tightly around him in every sense. That’s the only way he could show you, the only way he could tell you.

He grabs his cock in his hand, pumping himself slowly and rests his head on your shoulder, groaning into your skin at the sensation. “Beg.” He spits, his lips moving against your flesh. He rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds and you yelp, pressing your hips back but he anticipated it, drawing his hips back, away from you.

“Charlie, please I-I need you so badly, I’ve never wanted… anything else but you, I just- please, I need you so bad, I-I, l...love-”

“I told you not to fucking say it.” He grits from behind clenched teeth, slapping your ass harshly and you let a sob leave your lips. The burn was so good.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t help it-” You whine, fists bunching up the sheets with a grip so deadly your skin is turning white. He lets his head drop to your shoulder again, his own eyes screwing shut, trying to will his own tears away as he continues to run his cock along your pleading entrance, collecting whatever arousal has seeped out of you.

“Fuuuck, perfect little pussy... so desperate for my cock, isn’t it?” He mutters, almost to himself as he watches the way his cock moves between your glistening folds. Unashamed, you keep crying, moaning at the feeling of his big cock so close to where you need him most, nodding your head.

“Please, Charlie I need you inside m- fuck, just put it in, please-”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel him press in with the tip, letting the spongy head break through your folds and slightly dip into your entrance. Your fists clench and unclench against the sheets. With a sharp ‘fuck’ Charlie presses the rest of his long, thick cock into you, both of you moaning and breathing in one another.

He lets his cock sit in you, coming to interlock his fingers with yours, pinning your hands above your head, elongating both of your bodies but mostly yours, from how much longer his body is. Only then does he start snapping his hips into yours, letting his thrusts punch out your moans and cries from your chest.

At this angle, he’s hitting places inside of you so deep you never thought you could fathom, filling you up to the brim, you swear you can feel him in your stomach, punching your guts into your throat with every violent thrust.

You moan his name without relent, it’s the only thing you could possibly ever know. Charliecharliecharliecharliecharlie to infinity. You never wanted to know anything else, no other thought suddenly as interesting as him. He was the only thing that mattered. The way his cock filled you was dizzying, mind-numbing, and bone-shattering.

“You always need me so badly, you could never leave me, never leave this cock. Desperate little slut.” Charlie groans, head resting on your back as his powerful thrusts push you up the bed. He latches a hand around one of your hips, trying to keep you pinned down.

“You would never fucking leave me, you’d never fucking do it.” He continues, maybe to himself. You can feel him nuzzling his face into the skin on your shoulder, kissing and biting the skin, leaving a mark in his wake like he always does.

“I won’t, Charlie- I won’t, I promise.” You hiccup, his thrusts unrelenting in their assault. You could feel your release building, that bright white feeling rising inside of you. The only sounds in the room were your breathy moans, Charlie’s growls and the loud slap of skin on skin, his hips colliding with your ass every time.

“Dont ever say that s-shit again- dont ever fucking leave me. Don’t - ever. Fucking. Leave.” He growled, biting your shoulder and punctuating his words with harsher thrusts, fucking into you.

“I’m s-sorry Charlie-” You’re cut off by a sensation on your back. Hot, wet, slippery. Charlie sniffles.

He’s crying, burning holes into your flesh as they land on your back. Your own eyes well up all over again. The pleasure of his cock deep, deep, deep inside you and the emotions flowing through both of you was overwhelming, overstimulating, your mind was going blank, you felt like you would black out.

You hear it then, his quiet cries, the way his chest shakes as he finally lets it go, lets it out. And then he’s suddenly pulling out of you, grabbing one of your ankles and one side of your hip, flipping you over quickly, hiking your legs back up around his waist and continuing his punishing, relentless pace. You moan embarrassingly loudly as you watch the way his stomach flexes into you, the way his chest tightens and constricts, the flush that spreads from in between his marvelous pecs to his cheeks, his dark wet eyes, the red that fills them, the way his eyelashes clump together, making them look longer, darker, the dark halo of hair that frames his face. Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

It was beyond you at this point, you couldn’t stop what was already put into motion.

“Oh, Charlie…” You cry, chest arching into his, your nails scraping his biceps. He moans at the pain, dropping his forehead to yours. You’ve never heard him moan like this, never seen him cry like this, never seen him so lost and completely gone in you.

Even if it was a mistake.

Even if you would regret it tomorrow.

Or five minutes from now.

Or immediately afterwards.

It was the truth, your truth. His truth. It was the only thing you could ever possibly know.

“I love you.” You cry, burning tears streaming down your cheeks. Charlie’s eyes meet yours, lost, delirious, shocked.

“You… y-you can’t.” He doesn’t tell you to stop this time. Doesn’t tell you to shut up, doesn’t tell you how dumb and pathetic it is to love him. You love him.

“I do, Charlie I-I do. Fuck, I love you so fucking much.” You whine, nails biting the skin on his back. His hips never stop, he’s fucking common sense and all things rational out of your mind. All you know is him. All you ever want to know is him, Charlie.

His chin wobbles, moans escape past his lips as he refuses to stop fucking you, his cock so fucking hard it hurts him, almost more than this. Almost more than the chant that has started to leave your lips, the floodgates have been opened and you can’t stop your confession now.

“I love you, I love you- shit, Charlie I love you, I love you so much, I love your fucking cock, fuck!” You couldn't stop, you felt like you could never stop at this point. You never wanted to stop saying it, never wanted to stop telling him. You loved him, you loved him, you loved him.

“You’re… you’re not real… you’re- fuck, too fucking good for m-me.” Charlie gasps, his hips speeding up, his cock growing harder somehow. You feel him pulse inside of you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, mouth hanging agape, no sound being emitted from you. Charlie moves his lips down to your exposed throat, kissing and sucking on the delicate skin before wrapping a firm hand around it, not squeezing too tight.

“Yours.” You manage to choke out, gripping onto his wrist that's at your throat with all the strength you had with your body gone pleasure weak. Charlie moans your name, it makes you cry more.

“I’m yours, Charlie.” You manage to say more clearly, using all your willpower to look him in the eyes. His eyes are blown black, the dark circles underneath them so, so pigmented. You could feel the crescendo building, he was about to break. His lips were glossy, spit slicked and roughly bitten.

“You’re mine.” He confirms, more to himself than to you. He just… he felt like he could never be sure enough. Like he would never believe that you were his. That you were in love with him.

You nod your head, hands interlocking behind his head, gripping tightly into his hair.

“I’m yours, yours.” You keen, hips rolling into his as you both neared your release. His hand around your throat keeps you pinned in place as his fucks you into the mattress, moaning, groaning, crying your name. The slight added pressure makes you see stars, your pussy flutters around his cock and your back arches, pressing your chest into his but Charlie keeps you exactly where you are, your body convulsing as you cum, cum, cum around his cock, screaming his name.

“M’gonna cum, gonna f-fucking cum s-so deep inside, fill you up-”

“Please, Charlie.” You whine, dumb from the high that he continues to fuck you through, tears stained on the skin of your cheeks. You tug on his hair roughly, meeting his thrusts with a roll of your hips and that sends Charlie over the edge.

“Fhuuuck-” He lifts his head slightly, to look at you better as he splits you open one final time, his cock stilling in the deepest parts of you before he cums so fucking deep inside your pussy with the most guttural moan.

He fucks his cum back in to you until it’s seeping back out onto his cock. He groans so loudly you feel it in your bones. His hands wrap around your upper body, holding you tightly as he spins to lay on the mattress, holding your body to his chest, his cock still nestled deep inside of you.

Charlie gives you a small thrust, pushing and mixing his cum with yours one final time. You gasp and cling to him, your nails digging slightly into his muscular pec at the sensation, the delicious burn. You feel so incredibly full, so full of your Charlie. You love him.

“I lo-”

“I love you.”

Your heart must have stopped beating, your lungs, forgotten their functionality, your brain short circuited, your limbs incapacitated.

You looked up at him with those big, shiny wet eyes. You looked like a fawn, lost on the side of the road who just found someone who could help them. Someone kind, someone gentle, honest, safe, warm. Someone worth loving. He was worth loving. Charlie was worth loving.

But you already knew that.

He said it again, so low in the dark room, the dark night, eclipsed with spilled feelings and sweat, tears too. So many fucking tears. His voice so low it almost didn’t register, the deep vibrato rumbling your insides and warming you up all over again.

He said it with you curled up on his chest, he said it again when you moved up his body to press your face into the crook of his neck, pressing your lips to his bruised skin, he said it as tears spilled from your eyes. He would say it as you fell asleep on him in the deadly hours of the night and again in the morning when you woke. He would remind you constantly, he couldn’t stop, couldn’t hold it in. Not anymore.

He would tell you he loves you a million and one times from then on, until you didn’t want to hear it from him anymore.

tag list! @morby @shesakillerkween @gamingaquarius

#charlie barber #charlie barber x reader #reader insert #charlie barber x you #charlie barber imagine #charlie barber smut #long sleeves #part 2 #tw: daddy kink #cw: daddy kink #my writing

373 notes · View notes

zmayadw · 3 years

Text

Evening to all!

Time to continue the story :)

Wish you all a nice and relaxed evening :)

Oh, and before I dont forget:

WARNING - contains violence and some other "oh-not-so-good-stuff" - WARNING

CALL OF THE RAVEN

PART 25

Jakes POV

„So, what's the verdict?“ Jessy asked me, nervously bitting at her thumb. We wer sitting at the kitchen table, Dan checking his phone and casually sipping his beer. „Don't worry, Jessy“ I said to her „It's just a virus you got, I'll fix it in no time.“ „Oh, that's good to hear.“ She said sighing with relief. „And I won't lose any of my work stuff that's on it?“ „Nah, everything will be intact.“ I said. „And if you like, I could install you a better antivirus program, so this doesn't happen again.“ „Yes, please!“ she exclaimed „I definitely don't want for this to happen ever again.“ I chuckled „Sure, I'll do it. But, just to be sure this doesn't happen again, if I wer you, I wouldn't let Dan nowhere near the laptop again.“ Dan almost choked with his beer when I said it, and Jessy turned to him „I knew it! This was all your fault!“ „Sorry, babe“ Dan said making a puppy face „But you know my laptop is shitty and slow, so I might have borrowed yours from time to time.“ I shook my head turning my focus back to Jessy's laptop, as they continued to argue, and I took the opportunity to send Maya a message saying I'll be done soon. „I don't care why you needed it, you are forbidden to go near my laptop ever again!“ Jessy was so furious at Dan, and poor him couldn't do anything but sit there and endure it. „I'm sorry, babe. I won't touch your laptop ever again, I promise!“ Dan said to her sounding a bit daunted. I laughed inside. He looked tought on the outside, but Jessy was the one person he was genuinely scared of. „Good!“ she said, turning to me now, flashing me a smile like she didn't just yell furiously at Dan a second ago. „I'm sorry, how rude of me, I haven't even offered you something to drink. Would you like a beer?“ I checked the time on my phone „Hmm, guess I could have one beer before I go.“ „Oh, are you in a hurry?“ Jessy asked me confused, taking the beer from the fridge and handing it to me. „Maya said you have nothing to do. I hope I haven't disrupted your plans?“ „No, no, you didn't“ I said reassuringly and smiled „I'm taking Maya for a movie later, but still plenty of time before it starts.“ „Oh, how nice of you.“ Jessy said sighing, turning to Dan „Why can't you be more like that?“ „Hey, don't be like that, I take you out!“ Dan said hurt by her words. „Oh really?“ she said to him, raising her eyebrow„When was the last time you took me anywhere!?“ Dan thought for a moment before he grinned at her. „The other day, we went for that nice evening walk.“ He said victorious, and Jessy snorted „You mean, the walk home, from the middle of nowhere, because someone forgot to put gas in his car?“ „Details!“ he said „But It still counts as something, right?“ he said and grinned at her again. She rolled her eyes, turning to me, sighing desperately „See what I have to deal with.“

Mayas POV

„I apologise for my intrusion, miss Cole“ the man said to me „But you see, your nosy friends made me alter my plans a little.“ I stared confused at the man, as that feeling of dread started to rise up in me more. „I don't understan.“ I said, and the man smirked „Those phone calls, miss Cole“ he said „You weren't suppose to find out about the origin of them so soon.“ I froze at his words, panic washing all over me. I was scared, a little voice in the back of my head screaming at me to snap out of it and do something. I blinked a few times regaining my focus, as the man continued to stare at me. I tried to slam the doors shut, but the man stopped it with his foot. He pushed hard at the doors, and I staggered backwards into the room, barely managing to keep my balance. „Now, now, miss Cole“ the man said stepping inside „There is no need for this kind of behaviour.“ He slowly closed the doors turning back to me, his eyes glowing with frenzy as he looked at me. „I'm sure by now, you realized what the outcome of this will be for you.“ I stared back at him, terrified, hoping Jake would come back any second now. „Why are you doing this?“ I asked, trying to stall for time „ I dont understand, what have I done to you?“ The man shook his head and chuckled „I thought you figured it out by now, miss Cole.“ He said. „I guess I gave you more credit then you deserve.“ He took a step closer to me, and I reflexively took a step back. „You see, miss Cole“ he said, his hand going for the pocket of his jacket „You meddled into things you shouldn't have.“ I was still clueless of what he was referring to. And still, there was something familiar to me about him, but my brain was shut from fear that it just didn't get to me. The man sighed „By the look on your face, I assume I will have to explain it to you.“ Despite the fear, I was actually curious to hear his explanation, and hoped with it I'll get more time for Jake to come back. „You see, miss Cole“ he started, taking another step towards me, and again, I took a step back, bumping at the desk „If only you wern't so stubborn and stayed out of Duskwood, non of this would had to happen.“ As his words settled at me, it was like a flash back hit me. My eyes widened, as I slowely started to realize what was so familiar about the man to me. It was his eyes – the eyes I knew so well once. The eyes that, at the beginning, looked at me with so much care and sympathy, but ended up full of hate and contemp for me. Just like the man's were now. „You're..“ I started but I couldn't finish it. I leaned at the desk behind me for support still not beliving my cognition. The man raised his eyebrow at me „Ah, you finaly figured it out. Go on, miss Cole, finish your sentence.“ I just continued to stare at him, feeling more terrified by my realization. „Finish it!“ the man yelled it furiously at me, making me jump from fright. The frenzy in the mans eyes was the same as the one I stared back at not so long ago. I swallowed hard „You're Richy's father. Paul.“ The man smiled wickedly at me „Very good, miss Cole, now we're getting somewhere.“ As he said it, his hand came out of his pocket. I went numb, my breath stopping, as the light flashed from the blade of the knife in his hand. Damn it, Jake, where are you! „All right, miss Cole, now that we got the facts right, there is no further need to explain my presence here. Everything should be clear as day now.“ He took another step towards me, and I cursed inside for not having any more space to retreat backwards. I moved one hand behind me, trying to find something on the desk that I might use to my defense. The only two things on the desk wer my phone and laptop. My eyes constantly darted towards the doors, as I still hoped Jake would step inside any moment now. „Any way, miss Cole, I belive the time for talking is over, no need to further delay the inevitable.“ He said to me, his eyes flashing frantically. The panic took over me completely now, as he rised the knife coming towards me.

As he came close to me, the panic was finally replaced with the adrenalin kicking in. I quickly turned arround, grabbing my laptop from the desk, swinging it as hard as I could to the mans face. The impact sended him to the floor, the knife dropping from his hand. I grabbed my phone ready to run for the doors. I managed to make a few steps when he grabbed my leg. I started to fall down, hitting hard with my shoulder on the edge of the bed, making me scream in pain. The phone dropped from my hand as I hit the floor, rolling and stopping near the doors. I tried to get up, but he was still clenching at my foot. „Stop resisting, you can't escape it!“ he spat it at me, turning his head to look for the knife. When he turned back to me, I was ready with my free foot, hitting him hard at the head again. He wailed at another impact releasing his grip from me, wich was just enough for me to get up. I got woozy from the pain in my shoulder, but I pushed it aside. I grabbed the phone before opening and rushing through the doors, and I started running as fast as I could towards the woods. The pain in my shoulder intensified with every step I took, but I had to focus on getting as far away from the motel as possible. As I came near the woods, I opened the phone and for once I was greateful there wer only few contacts in my list. I quickly found Jakes name hitting the call icon, bringing the phone to my ear. Come on come on come on My mind was racing as I tried to focus where I was running and waited for him to answer. As his voice finaly sounded from the other side, I felt tears roll down my face. I don't know what he said to me, or even if he finished with it, I just bursted out „Jake, help!“

Jakes POV

„Here you go, Jessy, all done.“ I said turning the laptop to her. „Yay, thank you soooo much.“ She said cheerfully, immediately checking on her work stuff. Dan was still sitting quietly next to her, and I felt sorry for him. „Don't look so down, Dan.“ I said „If you want, I can check your laptop, too, see if I can do something about making it less shitty.“ His head shot up, and he grinned at me „Really, man? Thanks, that would be awesom!“ He said, starting to get up. I chuckled „No worries, but that will have to wait.“ I said, and his mood went down a bit again. „Oh, I see.“ He said, sitting back down. „Sorry, Dan, but I do have a date with a special girl.“ I said and smiled. As if on cue, my phone rang. „And I think she just got impatient with waiting on me.“ I took the phone answering the call. „Hey, angel, I'm just about to lea...“ but i didn't manage to finish. „Jake, help!“ Maya's voice came from the other side. I tensed „Maya, what's wrong?“ Dan and Jessy both shot me worried looks. „He's here...I ran..“ she said, and I barely managed to understand her. „Who's here? Maya, where are you?“ I asked her, a bad feeling starting to kick at me. „Woods...he's after me... Jake, hurry!“ she sounded so terrified, and it sounded like she was running. I shot up from the chair, Dan doing the same. „Maya, just hang in there, I'm coming.“ I said, already rushing to the doors. „I'll drive.“ I heard Dan behind me, and I just tossed him the car keys. „Maya, are you hurt?“ I asked, fearing her answer. „Yes, but I'll manage.“ She finaly said a full sentence, her breath panting. „It's Richy's dad, Jake. He's lost it, he blames me for everything.“ She said through tears and I cursed inside. Why the fuck did I leave her alone. „Please, Jake, just hurry, I'm scared.“ We wer already in the car driving towards the motel. I clenched my fist so hard, my knuckles turning white, rage swelling up in me. „I know, angel, but just hang in there a while longer, I'm almost there.“ I tried to make her calm down a bit but I knew my words won't really help her. „Keep moving if you can. And whatever happens, just don't loose the phone.“ „I'll try.“ She said „Just hur...“ And then silence. „Maya?“ I said, before moving my phone, seing that the call ended. „Fuck!“ I cursed out loud. I had no clue if she ended the call, or something happened. „Dan..“ „We're almost there, man.“ He said before I could finish. I was grateful Dan was with me, it gave me a chance to connect to Maya's phone. I was relieved when the connection went through, seeing the signal from her phone was on the move. But I had no knowledge of where the person that was chasing her was. I just hoped we'll get to her before he does.

Mayas POV

„You can't hide from me!“ I cursed inside, as the voice sounded somewhere from behind me, making me end the call with Jake. I started running again, slower then before with the pain in my shoulder getting worse. And it was almost completly dark now, so I had to focus hard not to fall. I took the phone, tucking it in the pocket of my hoodie, zipping it shut. It was my only hope for Jake to find me and I had no intention to accidentaly drop it while running. I had no clue what direction I was going, I just knew I had to keep on moving. I was getting more and more tired, when I suddenly ran out in the clear. It took me a moment to realize I ran all the way to the Blackwater lake. I dragged myself to the water, falling on my knees, splashing some cold water all over my face. I knew I shouldn't linger here for long, but I needed to catch my breath. It was getting hard for me to run. The adrenalin was fading me, and the pain became more sharp. Tears started to roll down my face again, from the pain or fear, it didn't matter. I just wished Jake would get here fast. As I sat by the water, I could feel my eyes getting heavier. I shook my head, splashing some more cold water on my face. All right, Maya, time to move on. I got up, and instantly felt dizzy. I steadied myself, taking a few deep breaths to shake off the dizziness. When I was sure I won't collaps I turned arround to move on. I made a step and froze in the spot. Paul was standing few steps from me, his head bloodied, the knife back in his hand. „No..“ I breathed it out barely audible, as a sinister smile returned to his face. „Why do you delay it, miss Cole?“ he said, coming slowly towards me. „I told you, you can't avoid the inevitable.“ Shit shit shit I knew my chances to run from him were small, but I had to try. I made my run to the left of him, but I was too slow. He grabbed me by my hair and tugged fiercely, making me scream. He pulled me to him, turning me to face him. At that moment, I thought I saw a flicker of light somewhere in the woods, but I was sure it was just my brain playing tricks on me. „Now, miss Cole“ he said to me, his eyes sparkling victorious „It is time I bid you farewell.“ His hand moved quickly, my eyes opening wide, as the blade of the knife pierced through me.

Jakes POV

Dan didn't stop at the motels parking, but continued driving, entering the woods with the car for as far as he could. I rushed out of the car before he even stopped, the flashlight on my phone already on. I heard him yelling after me, but I just ran. I had to get to her fast. I kept checking the phones screen as I ran. Damn it, why is the signal still? I started to run faster, Dan keep yelling from not far behind me. Almost there. Suddenly, a scream was heard from the direction we wer running to. I stopped abruptly, Dan almost knocking me as he caught up with me. „Was that...“ „Maya.“ I finished for him, and we both started to run again. We wer almost at the Blackwater lake, and I checked the phone again. The signal was still at the same spot, and I cursed inside again, fearing the worst. We burst out from the woods to the lake, and stopped at the scene in front of us. The man moved from Maya, and she looked directly at me, with wide eyes and tears all over her face, before falling to her knees and hitting the ground. „I told you, you can't save her, boy.“ The man turned to us, smug smile on his face. At that moment something snapped in me, and all went dark. Next thing I remember was Dan trying to pull me off the man. He was now on the ground, with me on top of him, his face all bloodied. „Man, stop it, you'll kill him!“ Dan was yelling at me, and I finaly snapped out of it. I blinked few times, before I got up, moving from the man. My hands wer covered in blood and shaking. „Go to her!“ Dan yelled at me, taking his phone and dialing some number. I looked confused at him first, until it got to my brain what he refered to. I quickly turned moving to the water, to wash some of the blood off, before turning to kneel next to Maya. I moved her slowly, and she coughed as I turned her towards me. She was shaking uncontrollably, but managed a small smile when she saw me. „I am sorry, angel, I wasn't fast enough.“ I said, moving the loose hair from her face. „Shhhhh..“ she said and coughed again. „You're....here now.“ I tensed at the sight of the knife sticking from her abdomen. Fuck fuck fuck She followed my gaze, and before I had a chance to react, she pulled the knife out, blood soaking her hoodie. „Dan!“ I yelled and he was next to us in a flash. „Give me your shirt.“ I said to him, taking my hoodie off. He took his shirt off , and I unzipped Maya's hoodie. She was half conscious by now, and panic started to rise in me. „Ambulance is on the way.“ Dan said to me, as he pressed his shirt to her wound. „I don't know if she can make it till they arrive.“ I said to him, pulling my hoodie under her, trying to tie it as firm as I could to stop the bleeding. „We don't have any other option, man.“ He said, but he was wrong. „Yes, we do.“ I said, and he looked questionable at me. I knew I might do more damage with my next action then good, but I sure as hell wasn't going to sit here waiting for them to arrive. I took her in my arms, getting up „At least we can meet them half way.“

Mayas POV

I felt Jakes hands lifting me off the ground before he started to run. I was in and out of conscious for a while, before I managed to stay awake. Every step he took sent so much pain through me, and I clenched my hand to his shirt. „Stop“ I said, my breath short, but he didnt hear me, he just continued forward. I was fighting so hard to keep my focus, not to let my eyes close again. My sight was getting blurred, as I stared at his worried face. „Jake....Jake, please...“ I barely managed, clenching at his shirt harder. He just kept running as fast as possible, without sparing me a glance. „Just stay with me, angel!“ His breath came out panting. I thought I heard Dan's voice saying something, but all my senses wer getting more dull. The pain was too much for me by now. I gathered what was left of the strenght in me, tugging at his shirt so hard and yelled „Jake, stop!“ He finaly looked at me, stopping abruptly, the look on his face terrified, as a streak of blood poured from my mouth. „No...“ he breathed it out, slowly lowering me down, resting my head on his lap. „No! Don't do this to me!“ He yelled, his voice cracking, his hand shakily caressing my face, moving the strands of hair from my eyes . Tears started to roll down his face. I wanted to get my hand up, to wipe them away . To tell him everything will be alright. But I just layed motionless, my eyes so heavy, blurriness mixing with darkness. „I lov...“ I started, but the rest of the words got stuck at my throath. „Maya!“ Jake yelled at me, but I couldnt fight it any more. I felt nothing. The pain was gone, shaking has stopped, I couldnt feel his warm touch anymore. Nothing. I closed my eyes, as one last smile came to my lips, breathing out the words I hoped I'll be able to say to him over and over again „Love you.“

----------------------------

Jake walked slowly, the lack of sleep showing on his face. Days went in haze for him, his heart aching more with each one passing. He knew the path well, he walked here so manny times before, he could do it with eyes closed. He turned after a short while, the path narrowing, before stopping. A tear rolled down his cheek, as he stared at the tomb stone in front of him. He knelt down, moving the dirt and leaves from the graves marble with his hand, before placing a single red rose on it. „Sorry I havent been arround much.“ He siad, leaning on his heels, wiping his face with the back of his hand . „Things have been crazy lately.“ He sighed „So much had happened, I dont even know where to begin.“ He just poured his soul out, his words carried away by a soft wind blows. He felt relieved after, aching at the heart softening a bit. He kissed his fingers, laying them gently on the surface of the grave before getting up „I promise I'll come more often.“ He stared silently at the tomb for a moment more. „I miss you.“ he said, as another tear rolled down his cheek. „Love you.“ Wiping the tear, he turned, slowly walking away.

#duskwood #duskwood fanfic #duskwood mc #duskwood jake #duskwood jessy #duskwood dan #duskwood jake x mc

27 notes · View notes

edge-lorde · 3 years

Text

the religion of the galactic horde

“You seem reluctant to help me. But I only wish to use your weapon to bring peace to the darkest corners of the universe. (Glimmer: Peace? If you activate the Heart of Etheria, there will be no one left.) Yes. No war, no pain. Old worlds swept aside, a new beginning for the universe.” --Horde Prime explaining his motivations to Glimmer

the horde in shera was definitely inspired by Christianity and uses a lot of its imagery, the most iconic being the baptism scene. it certainly gives off the vibes of a christian or christian adjacent cult, but what is its actual doctrine? i have some thoughts about that.

first here are what i consider to be the 3 main differences between real christianity and the horde:

Their jesus didn't ascend to heaven. He's still with them.

They don't have a larger creator god. They worship horde prime like he is a living god but they don't believe that he created the universe.

They have no focus on the afterlife

this is going to be long.

before i begin heres the sparknotes version of christianity for anyone not familiar. I am not evangelizing this, just think of it as LORE.

Once upon a time there was a guy named Jesus. He was the son of the one true god, who both created everything in the universe, is everywhere and knows everything, and controls the afterlife. Jesus is god born as a mortal person, sent by god to teach all of humanity the errors of their evil ways so they can repent and go to the good afterlife when they die. There're two afterlives, a good one and a bad one, heaven is the good one and its run by god and his army of angels, which are divine beings that god can send to earth to do things. The bad one is called hell.

Anyway, in his time on earth jesus was the only person ever to never do anything bad ever (called sin). He tried to teach people how to be good but was Too Good for this Cruel World and was killed. 3 days later he came back from the dead, proving his divinity. Some time after that however, he ascended into heaven without dying, telling his followers to spread the word because hes going to be coming back. Christians today are still awaiting his return. In the meantime, christians follow his teachings left behind in holy texts.

The crux of christianity is to get to heaven when you die, and this can only be done by following the teachings of jesus christ, believing in god, and believing that jesus was the son of god. Its a given that everyone will do bad things at some point in their lives so you're supposed to pray to god and ask for forgiveness regularly and if you really mean it then god will forgive you.

thats the basics.

to my first main point from above, if we posit that horde prime is the jesus equivalent of the horde religion, because hes treated as a living god, his goal is to spread his philosophy throughout the universe, then in the horde religions jesus never ascended into heaven. this would be like if jesus in our world rose from the dead and just picked up where he left off, and never died after that and was alive today. that would be pretty good proof of divinity.

to my 2nd point, theres nothing in the show that suggests that horde prime thinks that he created the universe. this means that he did not get his divinity from anywhere but inside himself, hes not claiming that hes the rightful ruler of the known universe for any other reason besides his ideas are the best.

the 3rd point is that the show does show horde prime or the horde caring one bit about the afterlife, save for one line from wrong hordak.

"Brother, I hope you, too, are full of only love for Horde Prime and have no crippling doubt eating at your soul."

meaning that they have the concept of the soul. which is very interesting and ill get to it, but on the whole the hordes focus seems to be on the here and now. this is a huge departure from christianity because chrisitanity is all about getting to the afterlife. that is the reason that christians are supposed to follow christ and recruit as many people as possible to do the same, because if they dont, they or other people will supposedly go to hell when they die. i say supposedly because at funerals, even if the person who died wasnt a believer, in my experience no christian would ever ever ever insinuate that someone went to hell.

but the difference still stands. following real christian ideology is supposed to have benefits for the individual in the afterlife, while in the horde religion salvation seems to only be found by submitting to prime in this life and being either a tool that he can use to further his goal of purifying the universe or by letting him remove you from it.

on top of all that, horde prime has the hive mind, which he uses to control the thoughts of all his followers. this means that theres no room for a bible study, no need of a holy text at all in fact, and no room for interpretation. horde prime delivers orders to your brain directly and can tell if you think anything out of line. real Christianity does have the idea that a sin that you just think about doing is as bad as actually doing it, but in the horde these thoughts can be easily discovered and punished.

the horde religion seems to me to be a strangely secular version of christianity with only the bad parts remaining; the control, the blind faith, the certainty that you are right and everyone else is wrong, the not questioning authority. with none of the good aspects like community, and good deeds. it is a cult in the truest sense of the word, a religion that begins and ends with one person only, that person being horde prime.

so, if you take horde prime out of the equation, what, if anything, would be left?

i find the plight of the horde clones here to be the most interesting. we know that they do have thoughts about their religion, as it was hordaks belief that he could earn his way back into horde primes god graces that kept him going all those years in despondos, and wrong hordak is distraught when he discovers that horde prime lied about krytis.

unlike both the chipped people we see in the show and real religious converts, the clones were born into this cult that values blind obedience only, and have no prior ideology or cultural identity to fall back on when they are taken out of it.

so to answer this question, i must add some conjecture to horde primes backstory and how the clones see themselves in horde primes universe. I already wrote up a brief backstory idea for horde prime/the clones and have it posted on here somewhere. I'm not going to dig it up but you could probably find it in the #horde prime tag on my blog if you dig hard enough.

To summarize it though, I have it as horde prime was once a regular (bad) dude who became a cult leader under the premise of preaching peace --> he becomes disillusioned with people and even his own followers because he doesn't actually like people, he likes manipulating them. --> this and the power of being a cult leader go to his head and he starts to think that he is the only person in existence capable of living a moral life and everyone else needs to be saved from themselves, the world would be a better place if he could just make everyone's decisions for them. --> he somehow gets a hold of the technology needed to set up the hive mind, be it by inventing it himself, stealing it, finding it, or being gifted it.

I'll pause here to address the theory that horde prime was originally an eldritch being that simply possessed a dude who would become the template for the clones. I think there's enough stuff in the show that this is a valid read and might even be canon but i don't really care for it. For me, what makes horde prime a compelling villain is that he's a very human evil, so having him actually be an evil demon thing instead of a really bad but believable dude who got near ultimate power weakens his character. BUT, i’m not going to address it in my comic so i'll leave it open as to whether he's got that going on or not. If he is, the clones don’t know about it and neither they nor the other characters have any way of discovering it. IF he is though, it would happen here. I could see it being a cool idea for him to get the hive mind from the eldritch being that would then possess him and haunt his lineage for time immemorial as a deal with the devil sort of thing, but he has to be a bad person before that.

Anyway he gets the hive mind--> he gets all of his followers to chip themselves --> gets those people to chip everyone else on his home planet --> use his planet wide army to harvest all resources on the planet and build his first space fleet and take to the skies and start his conquest--> realize that if he is to succeed hes going to need to both become immortal and find a steady source of new followers because chipped people die eventually and he doesnt care about people enough to figure out a way to keep a self sufficient population of followers alive, he just wants people around to adore him and do his bidding--> invents his cloning system-->

and heres the big one,

his original body has to die so he can upload his consciousness into a new clone.

and THAT, to the clones, would be the moment that horde prime becomes a god.

his reliance on the hive mind and vast network of followers are what give him his godly abilities, but just as the horde clones could not exist without being cloned from horde prime, so too could horde prime not exist as he does in the show without them.

i see it as both a christlike sacrifice and a cyclical system of debt and sacrifice. horde prime dies for our sins, so that he might continue to purify the universe so that there will be no more death and more clones will be born, while the clone hes possessing has to essentially die by giving himself up entirely to become the new prime so all this can happen too, and to repay primes death. not all clones can become the next prime however, but all must be ready to die for him, hence horde prime having clone infantries despite also having robots he could send instead.

i dont have clear thoughts about what the green goo is, but horde primes words about his brothers lending him their life force go along with this idea. the clones give him theyre life force, so he can give it back to them.

another interesting aspect of this is that prime always portrays himself as a brother to his followers, never a father as christ is portrayed as in christianity. i know this is from hordak and horde prime being actual brothers in the 80s show but ive seen this trope come up a few times in media before, where a man raises a kid but has them call him their brother instead of dad. it seems so deliberate. because a parents job is to take care of you, but a sibling, might take care of you sure, but thats not their job. its like hes deliberately trying to place himself on the same level as his ‘sibling’ so he can demand the same amount of respect you would give to a parent without taking on the responsibility to not... ya know... screw them over in the head? idk it seems very slimy to me. but that says more about prime as a character than how the clones see him.

and we still have the concept of the soul to fit in here somehow, and do they have an afterlife? im going to say no to the afterlife. theres just not enough in the show to go off of and everything that we do know about horde prime points to him only caring about himself in life. HOWEVER, there is nothing more quintessentially christian than the concept of hell and i think that will be of use here.

since the creation of the clones is tied with the creation of their religion, this would put the clones themselves less as allegories of people who need to be saved and more as the horde version of angels. in my telling here, horde prime views all people who do not submit to his will as net negatives to the universe who have to be removed for peace to exist, so by this view the chipped people are the saved, the people that horde prime kills are the sinners, and his military campaign is one long apocalypse slowly working its way through the universe, with the clones carrying out his righteous judgement. but the afterlife isnt involved in this, so even if some chipped people are left alive, eventually they will all die out, and then it will be just horde prime and is clones in a perfect, peaceful starless sky, and thats what heaven is.

getting to heaven is the main goal of real christianity and it is the same in horde religion, but heaven isnt a place in the horde cosmology, its a physical goal that has to be created. not all clones will make it to heaven of course, because most will die before they reach total destruction of the universe but the clones arent supposed to think of themselves as individuals anyway. they have to be willing to die for horde prime and die for the cause or be cast out and thats hell.

i dont see prime as someone who would kill his own followers outright too often even though he could. plus they arent supposed to value their individual lives the same way normal people do anyway it doesnt seem like a real punishment, they need something worse than simple death to fear. so by my view hell for the clones is separation from prime. it can be in life or death. no matter how bad it is in the horde being on the outside of it has to seem worse, and thats where the concept of the soul comes in. when one is a part of the hive mine, their soul is with prime. they are not supposed to have a will or any thoughts beyond love for prime, its essentially the same as not having a soul but they think of it as being at peace. being cast out is to be never at peace and would be told to them as being the worst possible thing that could ever happen to someone because it corrupts the soul.

“a lot of unpleasant things happen in the horde so just imagine how terrible it must be outside of it! you cant because i protect you from that. now get in the goo, this is for your own good” - horde prime probably

this is why outsiders are so resistant to submitting to primes light and also why its ok to kill them, in the hordes view.

so, to start wrapping thigs up, there is no horde without horde prime. the religion starts and ends with him. because he is supposed to be the only person ever to be able to make true moral and just decisions, without him is followers cant take any actions without worrying that they are going against primes will. since they have no holy text they cant extrapolate and try to figure it out either. its up in the air whether or not they are going to find a way to get the horde to make the jump from cult to regular religion.

its late i got to go to bed now

#shera #spop #the horde #the galactic horde #horde prime #horde clones #horde #rambling #Thoughts #this is really long and rambly but i think most of my thoughts got in there #im falling asleep as i type this #might redo this if i can think of a more concise way to say it

35 notes · View notes

tobebugjewce · 3 years

Text

THE WALTEN FILES: my jumbled notes on my blind run-in with this web series

first off this is gonna be long and unorganized, also this is my second time writing this as i had lost literally half of my progress and im This (imagine two fingers almost touching with a 0.0000000001mm distance between them) close to ripping all of the fucking hair out of my goddamn head. but now this will be extra long and yes, i will lose some accuracy to my first writing but thats okay ill probably edit this a kajillion times over

which brings me to my next tangent; im literally braindumping here. so to have a smidge of organization all afterthoughts, edits and corrections will be boldened, i forgot what im gonna do with italicized text but ill probably bolden it here yeah im pretty sure its for side tangents, separate from Corrections, which are in bold. also theyre for emphasis too.

so in general, this post right here is all of my notes i wrote down on my grid-patterned sticky notes (which i used WAYYYY too much of) about the first 3 uploaded walten files youtube videos transferred onto my handy dandy digital notebook, this b(l)og. yeppers peppers. you know im serious about this shit when i typed probably over like a thousand fucking words including boldened shit, italicized shit and motherfucking links, lost it ALL, and im sitting here re-typing it again.

i feel bad about this but im not gonna trigger warn right here, but this is technically a warning. if you want a list of triggers as to what this post (and the walten files in general) i will link a little list to that here

without further a doo doo, (mama mia) here the fucking fuck we go again.

THE WALTEN FILES - VIDEO #1

clarifying this now, im gonna put some useless shit which i thought was code onto this because even though it was useless it was part of my notes and im physically going to combust if i dont put down every single thing i wrote on my papers. so what i thought was code was in the closed captions, i started writing it down when i got to the second video but came back to my first videos notes to include them. i wrote down the first letter to every word that was capitalized in the closed captions, which i had on as a default because number one i knew going into this id need them because most web horror things like args and cryptic shit like that has some of the most crucial shits in the closed captions. number two i am autistic and have auditory processing issues and have most closed captioning on as a default if theyre available.

firstly jotted, i wrote down the closed captions “code” so im gonna put the rest here too: HYWITB(BSI)Y A(BSI)BJWFKWITW ILHHFSBBSBTLBWI USOISTBNBSFIRBCAWHSHCBWHTAIGRNB*C*BTWLTSFA(20)MCFP ILITIIACPH(1978, 1979)SA(4)YTSCH*C*OGSSU SFTGRPATDBBUTFBNLLCHMIHLBRALLCLAYTUKB*LC*WHATWASTHATTHING

the numbers in parenthesis are there because i wasnt sure they should be included in the “code” or not. i also thought of this with the BSI - bunny smiles incorporated and also the years 1978 and 1979. the shits in asterisks are coughs and light coughs, which were capitalized in the closed captions so i included them too just in case

i then jotted, in parenthesis of course, the names of the animatronics when they were listed in the animation section of the video; bon aka the blue bunny, sha aka the sheep one, boozoo aka the clown<3 honk<33, and banny aka the purpled eyelashed up one who is also a bunny btw. also i got boozoo the clown and boozoo the mustache guy confused because apparently the clowns name is billy???? but they named “boozoo” in bons sleepover and showed the clown? idk maybe im an idiot and theyre the same or just an idiot and theyre different or a super mega (matt and ryan?!?!??) idiot in general which is probably the case

i started drawing little stars to write down things i thought would be super important or to 100% look at again. the first subject of this pointy torture was the part of the video where at 3:00, i marked it down to make sure to reverse the audio as it was most definitely a weird audio that has that signature warp-y effect that makes sure you KNOW its in reverse. i then listened back to it Very carefully (still got it wrong) and got this: “you finally start to remember. that old doll. they will look out for you soon” im also pretty sure i heard “sophie” at the end of that audio but im not entirely sure and dont remember and i dont wanna go back to check lmfao but anyways it didnt matter because i was wrong anyway. after i had finished all 3 walten files i watched the film theory video on the walten files (which didnt cover all 3 but was dece.) out of curiosity and to hear matpats signature silly little voice explain some stuff i already knew, and click some shit in my brain that i couldve thought up of if i was a bit more... i dont know honestly. anyways yeah so the actual audio is “you finally start to remember. that old day. they will look out for you soon.” so yeah. day, not doll.

i then wrote down “sarah evelyn”, the name on the bons sleepover animation (i dont remember if she created it or animated it or whatnot) and scribbled will she matter? under her name. turns out no, as i didnt see her name in the rest of the series, let alone the first video. this is also a great time to mention how matpat theory helped me realize that the walten files are collections of videos, uploaded onto youtube by anthony. (i already knew about anthony as he signed his name in the descriptions of the youtube videos, making me categorize this overall web series more into an arg type genre.) but yes, the tapes, recorded “irl” footage, animated clips, vhs tape recordings and other audio-visual content is all collected and labeled the walten files, as i had mistaken each video to be a tape. stupid me. alrighty, onward!

i starred this one, good for me; MISSING: Jack Walten LAST SEEN: 06/11/1974

i jotted down with an arrow that; sophie was a nightguard? she was wearing the uniform explained in tape 2 i dont know why but i went back into my video 1 notes after i had watched video 2. organization purposes. i guess.??

i then paused the video when the screen flickered a date, the beginning of video footage dated 10/10/1982 (Brian Stells?) god my little genius ass assuming the videographer was brian stells, based on the id card i saw earlier.

i then wrote down what text i saw on the dead, mangled, bloody body in the purple security suit; “i cant feel anything” “he thought i was her” then drew a little arrow pointing to; thought brian was sophie? or ashley? i also starred the name Brian Stells this is totally out of order LMFAOOOOOOOO also i wrote down ashley because, again, my little pea brain went back on my video 1 notes after watching video 2. but yep thats all i wrote for The Walten Files 1 - Company Introductory Tape

THE WALTEN FILES - VIDEO #2

Tape #1 - created 07/02/1978

awesome how thats first and foremost in the captions. god. so sexy of you martin walls. /j /nsx

this pack of notes is chunkier because again, like i have mentioned before i am an absolute goober and thought the capitalized letters of the words would actually mean something. I MEAN MAYBE THEY DO AND IM JUST DOING IT WRONG but i stopped doing it after this video because holy shit it was exhausting and my stupid little fingers couldnt take the writing anymore becasue i am WEAK.

so write off the bat (squeak) i wrote down 197[] the blacked out rectangle over the last digit of that year and everything im also now assuming its probably 1978 or 1974 because lore reasons but whos to say but yeah i also wrote down this;

Tape #2 - created 08/13/1978

then, straight up in the beginning of the video i caught it, the flash of text, as i had by now realized i gotta be SUPER stupid focused on the screen in case i miss anything, i wanted to be crazy precise on my theorizing and mental notes, among other things. but yes i saw it, the first half of a youtube link; “https://youtu”

claps hands together and rubs them evilly. oh yeah baby. thats the hot lunch. this shit right here? the cats pajamas. lets fucking go.

i wrote down this goofy shit i pasued to inspect when i saw bon sorting through a file cabinet and naturally scribbled down the labels and other written things i could see on the files;

relocate X/X/75 felix

storage K-9 07/23/1975 felix k(ranken)

Bons Burgers 06/28/1974 Jack Walten

Shipping Service 1975

New Location -> 1982

i also wrote down more goofy shit, like when banny was created for some reason; in 1974

starred, i noted to go back and reverse the audio at 5:09, when played back, i didnt write it down so i dont remember. lmao.

i also marked to screenshot and brighten the darkened image i saw at 5:20, i was going to do it on my phone then realized i can just do it on my computer so i quickly took a screenshot, brightened it and wrote down what i saw; a missing person poster that read MISSING: SUSAN WOODINGS(?) Last seen: 1974 i was very unsure of the spelling of her last name because the image was so goddamn low quality and grainy but its what i saw. this is where tape #3 gets thrown in, which im gonna type again because i like how the formatting looks;

Tape #3 - created 07/09/1978 (BEFORE tape 2?!//1/1??? its more likely than you think)

i wrote down more dates, any dates i saw, i jotted down. i wrote;

Technical Support 1978

then,

Brian Stells (for some reason i dont remember right now)

alrighty this is where the stupid capitalized letters come in, but before it looks like i vomit a keysmash time infinity on this, ill put down the little inbetween things i wrote in the midst of the caps lockalypse like timestamps and stuff, so here you go;

- Reverse at 8:16 which i did but of course didnt write down what i heard. i think it was too warbled to hear anything clear out of it, or it was just the good ol auditory processing issues fucking me over yet again. WAIT yep yes i did here it is: “rosemary would go to the restaurant every night hoping that [her] beloved husband would reappear after being missing for weeks but no response until one day [s]he heard a voice [saying] ‘i know where he is rosie’ coming from the back stage” the bracketed stuff is the corrections, i misheard the audio and thought the audio said “his”, “he” and “singing” like a nimrod

- Brighten at 10:14 which was another missing person poster, but i dont think it had any information on it because i didnt write it down, just;

- Sophie again (pic at 9:08?) (dismemberd and put in Sha) i was stupid and wrong haha idiot it was rosemary who was put in sha but anywho

i starred and underlined a huge thing i discovered which was;

- Walten had 3 kids which i dont remember how i found out but it doesnt matter, its good important info i uncovered.

- Tape #4 - Unkown Date

- recorded 07/12-07/14 1978

- Hilary B, Ashley P & Kevin W i made sure to get these names down as soon as i saw them on screen but then realized shortly after i wouldnt really need to have it as the closed captions made sure i knew which person was talking by using their first initial (capitalized of course) before each line of text. this is the perfect time to announce the arrival of the clusterfuck of capital letters, which is going to include colons which will indicate that the letter before it is the initial of the person talking. without further aedue, here comes another chinese earthquake;

TCWTSTATO(K-9)TBSSFWFCNEHAWBSUBIUC(BSIIDC)OWHISF INBIJTILNSPL(K-9)LCSCKCCCWTTLTLITTTYROTFAJAMHPYYSTCSPMBBWSBIB H:NTPPCCK:DA:HH:YCPRPMWTCBCRAWK:JH:SYYTCPBACPSTBAWCA:TK(?):FMTTCMK:TCPNOA:DTOFK:ITNPPRA:YBUTIRRFH:HKIBESRAIA:TCK:WA:WPCCFTRRIDPEH:GGK:GPA:LKK:WA:HNCGTKMK:YH:IGKA:ESK:MFH:RK:HILRLBNTRPPUWHITRRTPEIFEPH:YWBEBPK:MAHPBTRPTRPEL(LN)HTACPKLIKHPFITSKLTKLB(LB?)ISIBSUBIPRW AEBATHSPUAICTPURTWBBRPHTRTIIIILTCITCUCCP S(bpe, be)WA”IDCPBPSIB

holy shit its finally over okay now onto some MORE of what i wrote down in between and also after that keysmash attack;

12 doors? (backrooms) 27? 26? i was unsure because ashley was unsure too lmfao

found cassette (6/11/78) <- says “discard”? yeah it did

Tape in clown audio, speaking voice; jack, susan, charles(?), rosemary, sophie, last word sounds like “walrus” it was walten lmfao

Ashley died? yeah she did lmfao OR AT LEAST I THINK SO??

starred this one, Reverse @ 17:06, then got this;

“they left the next day, they thought ashley left early, but she was in the backdoors, screaming as much as she could, but no one heard the screams, the following days the caretakers would complain about an awful smell coming from the backdoors, company decided to shut down facility until new advice, the relocate project was unsuccessful. ashley is still there, but she is not screaming anymore, she saw something she wasnt supposed to see and now shes beautiful” the phrase “shes beautiful” was repeating like a bajillion times in that wall of text. then, god motherfuckng bless:

at 17:23 i found the other half of the youtube link, “.be/k07QqEDOfQ” i pieced that bad boy together as instant as i think any form of ramen could never be, but remained ever patient. because i made sure to jot down this before moving onto my next segment;

@ end of vid 2, “shadow man sees* me when lights go off” im an idiot *it was actually “feeds” not “sees”, which AGAIN, i only found out after watching the stupid little film theory video *begins snarling and foaming at the mouth*

okay im not proud to admit im editing this to post it and realized ive lost my notes. well.

might as well post what ive got! if i find my shit ill add onto this, i suppose.

#the walten files #twf #notes #horror

12 notes · View notes

hunnybby · 3 years

Text

the rivalry

pairing: levi x gn reader

genre: general/fluff? possible e2l

it’s hard being a tea shop when there’s another tea shop trying to take your customers away.

wc: ~1k

a/n: to: @starrysamu! i dont think i can thank u enough for the friendship that u have bestowed upon me. i hope that one day i can give u as much love as u have given me these past few months. i hope u have a wonderful 2021- there is no doubt in my mind that there are great things in store for u. i love u!

it’s not jean, but i think i say his name once!

"Armin, do me a favor," you begin to ask (demand) from behind him as he mans the register of your tea shop.

Armin already knows what's coming, but he decides to pry a little bit anyway. "What do you need, Y/N?" He asks, throwing the damp towel he was using to clean the countertop over his shoulder. You wince a bit watching him, imagining that it's your shoulder that the wet towel is draped over. The thought of your sleeve getting just slightly wet makes you recoil.

But you aren't here to think about soggy towels and not-dry uniforms. You're here to enlighten your favorite employee of your next plan. Your next move.

"Go across the street," you . You wait until Armin gives you a nod to continue. "Walk in. Ask for the owner's favorite tea. Y'know, like the house favorite I guess."

"Do I ask for the owner first? Or do I ask anyone if I can't find him? Do I say what's the captain's favorite tea?"

You snort. "They call him the captain?" you say mockingly as you take a swig of water from the hunter green hydroflask that you "borrowed" from your cousins house. It's not the prettiest color, but it's bigger than the one you usually carry. And it keeps the water cool longer! It's hard owning a tea shop on this competitive street.

Even harder when you're losing faithful customers from the loser across the street.

The thought of Levi Ackerman makes you scowl and scrunch your nose up. How dare he move in, with his fancy imported teas and his new tables and chairs and endless supply of cleaning products? This has been your street for two years- two whole years! And some guy who unironically wears a cravat during every single season comes in all willy nilly like he owns the place? You scoff to yourself.

Armin notices, but chooses not to say anything about that. Only responds to your questions with, "Jokingly, yeah. It's kinda cute." He smiles at you sweetly. It's contagious, so you bite your tongue to hold back your own smile.

"It's probably not cute at all," you murmur. It's still loud enough for Armin to hear and suppress a chuckle. "But please just get the tea. I want to know what all the fuss is abo-"

The bell goes off from the front door, and you pause your sentence to turn around to greet your customer. But your retail-smile is soon replaced with a scowl. It's him. "You."

Levi bows his head slightly and bring up a hand for a half-hearted wave. "Me," he says in return to your greeting.

You pout your lips and shoot him a glare. "To what do I owe the displeasure of your intrusion, Captain?"

Levi brings up his other hand and holds up a thermos. He does't even seem bothered that you knew his nickname. "Peace offering," he says simply, walking his way over to the counter and sliding the thermos to you. It doesn't slide far, so you actually have to walk a few steps to actually grab the thing.

When it's in your hold, you stare at it for a few moments. The cogs are turning in your well-oiled machine that you call a brain. Peace offering? Peace offering. Peace... pea... p... poison? "Are you trying to poison me, sir?" you ask, looking up with an eyebrow lifted in confusion.

"Yes," he says, mildly irritated. "I'm trying to poison an innocent woman. No. That's one of my favorite teas. We work the same street, but that doesn't mean we need to be against each other," he explains further to you. There isn't a smile on his face, there isn't an edge to his voice, but there is a tone of finality.

You nod slightly, popping open the thermos and smelling the contents inside it first. "Doesn't smell bad," you observe. You take another whiff. You don't smell almonds, but you can't trust him yet. "It smells like almonds," you lie, remembering that cyanide has a bitter-almond aroma, "why are you putting cyanide in the drink?"

You watch his pinch the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "If you don't want the tea I can take it ba-"

"No!" you say, almost forcefully. Clearing your throat, you try again. "Don't be silly. Thanks. Cheers," you say to him, raising the thermos up high before setting it down to mouth level. "Bottom's up!" You take a swig.

Then you stop.

You take another swig. Longer this time.

You stop again. Your eyes look back to Levi. He's waiting, but not expectantly. Is he waiting for you to finish the thermos? Afraid you might steal it?

"This is...," you trail off, taking another sip. Lavender. Earl Grey. Black Tea. You want to stick out your tongue and tell him it's the worst tea you've ever tasted. But it's definitely not. "Your tea."

"It is," he repeats.

One more gulp ad you finish up the thermos, and you do so while feigning dislike. But you can't help yourself when you say, "Shit that's good," under your breath.

You hear Armin snicker from behind you as you hand the thermos back to Levi. "Not bad," you tell him. You purposely avoid eye-contact, not wanting to give him any more of your time.

"Not bad?" he muses, taking back the empty thermos and giving it a few shakes near his ear. As if to say Don't lie. You finished it like a champ. "I'll come back tomorrow, then."

"Wha-? Why?!"

He shrugs, already making his way towards the door. "Jean told me you wanted to try my tea so bad. Can't stop until I give you one you like, right?" he says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

You're speechless. Unbelievable you want to say. I don't want to try your gross ass tea you scream in your head, lying to yourself.

He takes your silence as a positive response, and waves bye. "See you tomorrow then."

tagging: @wateringlily @tamcitrus

#my fic #starrysamu #head chef #remy!#snk #aot #levi #levi ackerman #levi x reader

49 notes · View notes

seoafin · 3 years

Note

tbh,, i havent read the raws of the interview yet, only the translated ver from fan-translator and b4 i start, i think that this will be just me talking in circle and in no particular order AND a real mess (my brain does weird things after exams) but uhh here we go

gojou collects talented people, and by doing so he finds the people he can most probably relate to, except that he can't, not really, because something in the universe shifted when he was born. and it makes me think of how he's always known it, that he is special, and he's proven it, time and time again— he wants to take in talented ppl and he does, but there rly isn't much he can do for them. for they are talented, more talented than the world can understand,,

but they aren't gojou satoru

gojou took in megumi, bc he knew megumi was strong, and would grow up to be someone even stronger, but gojou can't facilitate or encourage his growth, bc for all they're similar, they are so fundamentally different. ALSO,, while geto was in his life, gojou rly judged everything according to his understanding of geto’s moral compass. gojou wears a human suit and geto is how he learnt to wear it well 🏃

the dragonfly analogy regarding to geto’s response to gojo, who was shown wearing a dragonfly patterned yukata in HI arc,, i’m trying to not think abt the fact that dragonfly symbolized victory in jpn....pain. i quoted from a web here for more explanation : In Japan the dragonfly is known as the "victory insect", or kachimushi, because of its hunting prowess and also because it is known to never retreat. Dragonflies are agile and fast fliers and can even hover, but never fly backwards

and bringing this up again, matricide and patricide are 2 of the 5 worst act to commit in buddhism, and it was said that if u commit one of those act u’re going to spend a real long time in the deepest pit of hell before continuing the samsaric cycle (higher chances to be born as an animal after that probs)— this might be geto’s divine retribution. held no power over his own body and could be considered that he’s the same as those “monkeys” 💀

ALSO the fact that sukuna's interest is "eating" rly drives home his hedonistic philosophy of seeking pleasure for himself. and he’s a cannibal...makes me think if he’ll just chomp on ppl with the mouth on his stomach

randomly, to date i think he hasn't really called himself a human, shaman, or a curse, and has held himself apart from all 3, and we've also the intro of the cursed wombs so i wonder if he’s trying to become, or is, a different entity altogether

so onmyoji got mentioned in the interview and what they practice is called onmyodo and abe no seimei and kano no yasunori were the notable practitioners,, and the kamo in jjk is the same as irl who served the imperial court back then

maybe i was right when i said that the relation between the govt. and jujutsu elders are similar to how the shogunate and imperial court work (ie, the former holds the actual power) but... lets see later,,

and i cant believe that i actually nailed it on the analogy of jujutsu practices by religion,,, so mahayana buddhism, shintoism, and taoism is present in jjk along with their respective jujutsu practices...but between the 3, it shld (?) be taoism > shintoism > mahayana buddhism (which could took a path to pure land buddhism)

it’s weird that the number of curses are supposedly higher in jpn comparable to other countries when taoism was brought from china....tengen sus

so the zenin family tree is sth like :

brothers: [toji's dad] ; naobito ; ougi

so toji, naoya, and maki & mai are cousins of the same generation

[toji's dad] → jinichi (probs) ; toji → megumi

naobito → other brothers, naoya

ougi → maki, mai

but yea i’d call anyone who’s within/close or below my age range as cousins and others above 30 as uncles/ aunts LMFAO,, i dont rly memorize my own family tree 😭😭 especially since most call the other by honorifics instead of names : aunt, uncles etc or attaching said honorifics at the end of a name for an older sibling figure/ older cousins [but like ppl in my country also call the other who are older with sibling honorific even if we’re strangers,,, rly similar to korea’s hyung/oppa—eonnie(unnie)/noona but some uses more genderless honorific] (1)

tw // topic of incest, mentions of abuse

if anyone got the wrong idea when reading this : i am not glorifying/ romanticising incest(uous themes),, i’m looking at this with absolutely no lenses of bias even tho im rly against it

初恋 = literally : first love, or puppy love

恋 = romantic love/ deep longing

i literally don't know how else to put this...🧍and with language barrier...using a western interpretation of the eng word "love" to explain a jpnese term is not quite that simple, unfortunately

that thread omg,, i rly do understand how exactly someone could associated kindness with love bc of my upbringing, it was when i was slightly older that i was just...oh so its not like that orz,,, so the most plausible explanation would be that

but the problem is that,, akutami never specify when exactly she had a crush on them,, and when megumi answered todo’s question she had a “♡” reaction 😶,, uhmmm there’s rly no way to look past this if its this way or be in denial

i’ve seen some of "why wouldn't mai react that way after hearing megumi say he'd like someone who's compassionate when she's surrounded by men like naoya",, well I MEAN,,, that, but also mai probs admires that megumi grew up so well out of the clan, regardless of the fact that he had the foundation (10 shadows) to do so. imo she seems happy for him the way she can't be for maki, bc maki ultimately had to leave her behind

hate to say it but yea,, the 3 clans most likely still practice inbreeding in order to preserve their power and presumably their wealth too 😀

i had an idle thought abt it at first but i filed it deep in the back of my mind asap,, bc i ont wanna jump to conclusion abt this out of all things too early. it’s probably not even in jjk, but all those elite clans in other ani/mangas that produce powerful heirs and whatnot also do the same,,, but this way of (my personal) thinking was influenced when i first got into tsukihime (type-moon),,, i read abt the nanaya family background and found out that they practice that in order to keep their bloodline “pure” (to keep it short : they have an optical power),, and i had this kind of assumption ever since so there’s that

i’m,, convinced the zenins' inbreeding made it more difficult for them to get powerful shamans bc they got 2 jujutsu technique-less children with heavenly restrictions in the same generation: toji & maki

even more convinced that maki might be a bit stronger than toji bc toji could see curses without aid while maki can't so the pay-off must be higher,,, SJJASN IDK ,,, plus naoya sort of implies his older brothers are nothing compared to him, and idk if we should take that as his arrogance or that his older brothers rly are weak/powerless. it would make sense as to why naobito had a lot of sons, ig, as head of clan

i feel so bad that if one of the factors that can caused heavenly restriction is inbreeding,, toji and maki and mai had no say in how they wanted to be born but are scorned for it,, typical asian families projecting their traumas and ideals onto their kids but get mad when they realize that those ideals are ugly...😁😁😁

since the zenin are conservative,, i wonder if they still hold onto old jpnese dining traditions. where in ancient jpn, hierarchical relationships were made readily apparent even within families. a dining table where everybody sat down and ate as equals would be unheard of. rather, each individual is given their own table that indicates their status,,, someone who is not considered “strong” according to the zenin’s views most likely have no place at the table, and probs eat when those who are “strong” finished/ serve them when they are eating

if toji was tossed into a swarm of curses,, i dont think abuse during said time is below them,,,

the zenin clan was already great, but they further amassed power and strength by, what i assume to be, marrying and adopting powerful individuals into the clan 🤔 ,,, i imagine they're like the hiiragi but without doing what they did to shinya (ons reference)

BUT after all that, i like to think that since akutami’s a big horror fan, jjk might be an outlet to explore said topics or even darker ones, so i wouldnt be that surpised abt it. given that there’s more than enough “red flags” before this was dropped : a reference to “tale of hikaru genji” when a grown woman asked for gojou’s number in HI arc (out of all things); granny who transformed into the man’s daughter, sat on his lap and man just touched her waist; mei mei and ui ui ; and...this (incestous theme is in the novel btw)

lets not start with whatever the fuck in kubo’s head in the interview otherwise i’m writing paragraphs with every curse words possible,, those big 3 mangakas are so— UGH,, a planet w out (cis) men like him sounds real good rn 😌 if one of yall out there decide to do it,, pls hmu rly cant do this shit anymore

akutami said i like my men pretty and i like women who will step on my neck and spit in my face (I REMEMBERED TATSUKI FUJIMOTO’S INTERVIEW WHEN HE WAS ASKED ABT MAKIMA AND IT WAS SO 😭😭😭😭) but ykw,, love that for both of them <3

when i said 3 : one piece, bleach, naruto. aside from the blatant depiction/ characterize of women in those 3,, idk if some ppl arent aware yet but oda is friends with two (2) convicted pedos,, man...the major disappointment and disgust when i first find out abt it

anyways this is just my 2 cents (which i think rightfully belong to the trash can) so pls just take this w a lil to no grain of salt - 🐱

YEAH THE ♡ LMFAO I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST A “good answer ♡“ heart BUT NOW IM RE-EXAMINING?????

honestly i wouldn’t be surprised if the three clans practiced inbreeding. but ik people are going to be 😡😡😡😡😡 about it when the queen of fucking england is literally married to her (something) cousin. i’m not justifying it but like....love the double standards, just as always with the west 😍

DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THAT FUCKING PED* LIST THEY SHOULD ALL BE IN JAIL. JAILLLLL. it’s all so gross. that’s why i fucking hate when people look towards manga for positive representation because the chances of that are super slim to zero, especially since the industry is saturated with misogyny and ped******* and a lot of other gross stuff.

i think ppl forget jjk is a horror manga LOL so obviously it’s going to confront darker themes. the question is whether it’s going to be done tastefully or not......

#honestly I don't have high hopes unfortunately 😭#but who knows I might be...pleasantly surprised #idk I don't have high hopes in manga nowadays so hmmm #anyway as always I enjoy ur thoughts <3 ❤️❤️#hope ur doing well!!!#and getting all those genshin impact goodies #🐱 anon #long post

26 notes · View notes

agoracactus · 3 years

Text

Pt. 9.5 - The Blood Mage

so im here to explain what happened after reader left Geralt, but it gets pretty dark (see warnings), if u dont wanna read it but still wanna know what happened, ill do a family friendly summary at the very end, scroll and look for this ▲△▲△▲△ dividing line

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.4.5 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader

Word Count: 4110 - summary excluded

Warnings: besides the standards, blood, gore, indication of sacrificial ritual against children (yes im a monster)

Tag list: @theojuicee @ayamenimthiriel @imthesnowinthedark @distinguishedkryptonitecreator

You stood there, watching him disappeared into the woods, cold air wrapping tightly around your body.

Was it getting cold? Or was it your blood drawing away from the surface of your skin, wanted to crawl inside and hide there and never come out?

When you realized it, you were already walking away. Tears blurring your sight, hitched breaths blocking your hearing, you stumbled forward, don’t know where you’re going--- you just wanted to get out, you had to.

You tripped and fell, and you just lay there, panting from the emotion that’s gripping your chest.

How could he say such things? You cared about him so much, yet he returned it with sharp blades of words. Manipulating him? How dare he? You were merely helping, trying to steer him away from the tragic events that would happen to him! Did he ever say ‘thank you’ for your effort of trying? No. He complained. He Accused you for being a ‘jinx’.

You sat up. The darkness had already crept in in between the trees. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, the shock and the sadness faded into anger. You stood up.

Fine, you’re leaving. You don’t need him anyway. You could go back to Yen, she would take you in. You would live a way better life than before- Hell, you don’t even need Yen. You can take care of yourself. You will go on your own adventure and perhaps meet someone better than that stupid, stubborn asshole.

You didn’t know how long you’ve been walking, or where were you walking to. It was dark everywhere, and your human eyes could barely made out anything- probably even less than what you usually could due to your now puffy eyes.

You started to hear the different sound of the night forest, the cracking of the dry twigs, the chirping of what you assumed of the crickets, the rustling of the trees, and perhaps the howling of some wolves far away.

Suddenly, a scream pierced through the darkness of the forest.

You tensed up, ready to run if any danger come towards you.

“HELP!”

You heard it loud and clear. You quickly drew out your shotgun, ran to the source of the sound.

It wasn’t hard to locate where you should go, there was a faint glow not so far away in the woods. As you were getting closer, you saw a circle of glyphs giving out a brown-ish red glow, in the center lay a shape that seemed to be a body of a child. Beyond the circle, not too far away, was a ghoul.

“Help me! Help!” Someone up in the tree shouted desperately, seeing you appeared from the dark. You stopped in the circle of glyphs, aimed the shotgun at the ghoul that was growling up at the poor man and pulled the trigger.

The ghoul took a few shot before it went down and stopped moving completely.

“Are you ok?” you poked the dead ghoul with the gun barrel to make sure it’s really dead, and said to the man, “You can come down now, it’s dead.” “Oh thank you kind stranger!” the man swiftly climbed down, he was wearing a cloak with dark stains at the bottom edge. “I would have been dead if not for you, I owe you my life!” “What happened here?” you asked, stepped into the circle once again to check the pulse of the child. You noticed the boy had several cuts on his arms and legs, and a mark of branding on the inside of his wrist that you couldn’t quite make out the design with the dim light from the glyphs.

“...Fascinating...” You heard the man gasped in awe. “Hm?” gotten distracted from inspecting the branding further more, the thought slipped from your mind, “The kid is dead.” you stood up. “Yes yes, poor child. His parents brought him to me for treatments, but the monster showed up. I tried to put up a protection sphere for him but he’s badly wounded...” the man lowered his head with remorse. “You’re a healer?” you stepped out of the circle. The man glanced at your feet and the glyphs, “I’m a worshiper of the arcane, a student in the knowledge of unknown.” he bowed his head slightly, “Sadon Olbrecht, at your service.” “Y/n.” you replied, found yourself having some trouble trusting him, but couldn’t put your finger on it.

“What a lovely name! And what brought you here deep in the woods in such late hours?” “Um, well, I um, lost.” you avoided the eye contact, remembering the reason why you were deep in the woods late at night. “Oh I live near by! You are more than welcome to come stay overnight, and I can show you the way to the highway tomorrow!” he lit a lantern--- that came out of nowhere. “It’s this way!” he lift up the lantern to see better ahead. “...” you took a look back at the direction you assumed you came from--- it’s too dark to tell--- “Sure. Lead the way.”

It didn’t take long before you saw that stone made house. “Here we are!” Sadon picked up the pace, “We don’t have much, but it’s our humble home.” “We?” you glanced at the dark windows. “Yes. Come come!” he quickly pushed open the wooden door. You hesitated, one hand reached back and clutched on the pistol.

You stepped in. It was dark, the smell of decay and dampness rushed into your nostril. “Sadon?” you couldn’t see anything. Something wasn’t right. You turned, wanted to walk back out.

Then a heavy strike hit you in the back of your head. You fell unconscious.

It was cold, dark, humid, stank of dirt and mold.

And blood.

So much blood.

Fresh, not fresh, they all mixed together into a protruding smell.

You were leaning against the cold stone wall, hands chained to the wall, another pair of heavy manacles on your ankles. There’s no window in this room, the only time when you could see anything was when Sadon were in the room, then he would light all the candles--- there were so many candles, black and red. When there’s no light, it’s pitch black. So dark that you often wondered if your eyes were actually opened.

It hurt everywhere, to a point that you couldn’t feel pain anymore. You used to complain so much about even the smallest cut, would wine about your sore back every few minutes. But you stopped thinking about the pain now. Your brain learned to ignore it after a while. You tried to get some sleep, but your body was aching and stiff--- in fact, your brain couldn’t even tell if you’ve slept.

And the noises. The sobbing and crying and moaning from below.

The kids.

You didn’t know who they were, but you know there were several of them. Sadon kept them separated from you, in the camber below. You saw him carrying sacks downstairs a couple of times, took some time before you realized that those were the kids. He probably kidnapped them somewhere, put them to sleep for transportation.

You’re glad that you didn’t know these poor children.

You heard the rustling of the keys, and the squeaking of the metal door. Light poured in from the door at the far side of the chamber, a pair of feet came down the stone stairs.

“Good evening!” he greeted you delightedly and started lighting the candles with the candlestick he brought down. There was a large stone pedestal in the middle of the chamber, few metal hooks sticking out on the sides, with runes carved all around it and it was covered in deep maroon. The runes ran down the pedestal, to the stone floor, and formed a circle.

Sadon finished lighting up the room, set the candlestick down on the side of the pedestal “I really have a good feeling today, perhaps success is near the corner!” You could hear the sincere excitement in his voice, and it only sickened you more.

He took the chain of keys, and unlocked the hatch to the basement. You chewed on the inside of your mouth, hearing the children crying. You saw a little boy being dragged up, manacles chained on his skinny wrists and ankles. The boy was trying all he can to fight, but Sadon as a grown man was way stronger than him. He threw you desperate gazes, but there was nothing you could do. You watched him being dragged to the pedestal, manacles on his wrists hooked to one side and the ankles were hooked to the other side.

Then Sadon brought a dagger and a small goblet to you. He knelt down beside you, took the dagger and cup a deep slit in your upper arm. You turned your head away, gritted your teeth so hard you felt like you were going to shatter your jaw. He caught your blood in the goblet and brought it back to the boy, who was laying on the pedestal, panting in fear.

You shut your eyes, trying to close off all your senses.

The pure one.

That’s how Sadon addressed you. How disgusted you were when you heard that.

He said he’s a blood mage. You knew that’s bullshit from the time you’ve spent with the witcher and the sorceress, and the knowledge they fed to you.

Sadon was just a demon worshiper, who was deluded about how he has a connection with the “demon lord”. He told you that he would one day break the barrier between the two worlds and bring his lord to this realm, and together they would bring the world to greatness. And he believed that your blood is the key to his grand plan.

You didn’t even care about the sanity of his mind.

How long have you been in here? How many rituals have you witnessed? How many young lives were perished, tragically and painfully in front of your eyes? The scenes, the sounds, they haunted your dreams. Sometimes you couldn’t tell if you were dreaming or the ritual was actually happening.

At first you were so mad, you screamed, you struggled. You tried to fight your way out of this, but you were nothing without your weapons.

You were nothing without your witcher.

You overflew your mind with the witcher.

His voice, his frown, his grunt, his smirk. What was he doing while you were stuck here, suffering? Did his mind ever come across you after you parted ways? Was he worried about you?

Then you banned him out of your mind, kicked the image the sound the phantom warmth of his out of your brain as many times as you needed.

You prayed. Prayed for all these were just a bad dream, prayed that Geralt would be looking and saved you from this hellhole. You cursed, cursed your bad luck, curse your immunity, cursed for you trusting a stranger and take him for his words. Disappointed- desperate about the absence of

Till there’s nothing left for you to do but to wait.

Wait for the final fate to find you.

The chamber has grown cold.

You were the one laying face up on the pedestal, staring up at the ceiling. There hanged a rusty chandelier, covered in dust and webs. The thought of it falling and killing you and ruining the ritual flashed through your mind, brought you a slight amusement. You were even more amused at how you were coming up sick jokes when death was staring you right in the face. In fact, you had to suppress the urge to laugh.

Few kids were kneeling on the ground, forming a circle around the pedestal. You couldn’t tell how many of them were there--- you were too weak to turn your head to look--- you guessed that they were probably the last ‘stock’ Sadon had in his little basement. You could hear them sobbing, the silver instruments Sadon made them held were making soft tinkling sound with their shaky hands.

The temperture dropped more. Or maybe it’s you losing blood.

You heard Sadon’s chanting, heard him moving around in his elegant robe. You fought to keep your eyes open, but the eyelids were growing heavy.

You were scared.

Is this it? Are you really going to die? What’s beyond ‘death’? Will you return to your world? Would Geralt miss you, at all?

You were not ready to go. But the darkness was creeping in from the corner of your vision.

A voice crept in as darkness consumed you. It souded like several people talking at the same time, in different pitch, but merged in one.

“What do you wish?”

You found yourself standing--- or perhaps, floating, in this darkness. The voice seemed to be coming from everywhere.

“We could give you anything you want.”

You looked around, then you weren’t sure if you were actually looking.

“I want to live.” you found yourself talking, heard your voice coming from all around you.

“Pay the price.”

The voice echoed in the space.

“I have nothing.”

“Give us what’s most precious to you.”

A dark shape emerged from the dark. You didn’t know how you’re seeing it without light, but the presence was strong. You saw it extended it’s hand, expecting a hand shake.

You closed your eyes, still seeing the darkness.

“Give it.” “Give it.” “Give it.”

The voice now split into several whispers, coming from different directions.

You saw yourself slowly raising your hand, slowly, reaching that extending arm. Faintly, you heard your voice, telling you to stop, to think this over, to be smart.

A face flashed into your mind, the pair of eyes that would usually filled with warmth were painted in cold bitterness.

You held onto the arm.

A burning sensation burst out on the inside of your forearm. A shape was glowing, and eating your flesh away. You screamed.

The whispers ceased.

“You are ours now.”

The darkness faded. You were on your bare feet, panting. Most of the candles were out, the only ones still burning were the ones on the pedestal behind you.

Your saw your shadow casting on the ground, and drew up to the wall, swaying, with the low burn candlelight. The thick substance that’s covering the ground, glistening with the flickering light. You tried to move your feet, but your foot kicked something.

An arm. Children’s.

You slowly glanced around, eyes barely made out the scattering pieces of what you assumed, human body. The smell of gradually decaying flesh filled your nostril, your brain slowly started working.

What happened?

You saw Sadon, half of his head were by the wall, expression frozen on absolute horror.

The metal door screaked. You turned, and saw two figures standing at the top of the stairs. In their eyes, were those horror? Shock? Perhaps wonder?

You didn’t get to find out. In a flash, the smaller figure of the two rushed towards you. And before you could react, a blunt hit in the back of your head. You were back into darkness again.

▲△▲△▲△▲△▲△▲the family friendly dividing line▲△▲△▲△▲△▲△▲△▲

Summary

You left Geralt after the fight when the night was falling. Frustrated and disappointed at what happened, you got lost.

Deep in the woods, you came upon a man who named Sadon, he was being attacked by a ghoul, after killing the ghoul, he offered somewhere safe to stay for the night in return. He attacked you and knocked you out after arriving at his stone made house.

It turned out that he was a demon worshiper, and claimed to be a blood mage. He made sacrifices of children who he kidnapped at the nearby village to pay tribute to his dark lord. He believes that the rituals he’s doing granted him power, and one day he would be powerful enough to summon the demon king to this realm, and together they would rule the world. And when you saved him in the woods, he found out that magic doesn’t take effect on you. He believed that you were the key he needed for his grand scheme. So he kidnapped you, and was waiting for the right time for his final ritual.

Sadon wasn’t wrong. Your blood was desired by the demons, as it could grant them power. The ritual was successful, just wasn’t as expected by Sadon. You made a deal with the demons, giving them your memory in exchange of immense power.

You woke up and found yourself standing, around you were Sadon and all the children who met a horrible death. Helvi’tar and Eyle opened the door to the basement of death, found you in complete confusion.

Then Eyle knocked you out.

#the witcher #gerlat of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x you

44 notes · View notes