#in front of the prisoners i have to be sure of myself but.... but... what if I've just been failing everyone at this point... what then...

[seariii]

Anyways, if you vote me guilty, it's okay because I feel bad for shooting Mg. If you vote me inno... I guess I can give you a kiss on the forehead or a pat on the back...?

#something something being the warden is my job and i have to make sure there is peace #but at what cost... i healed her but... but it was my fault she had been harmed in the first place... #becuase i couldnt do my job right... because im too weak too imperfect... #in front of the prisoners i have to be sure of myself but.... but... what if I've just been failing everyone at this point... what then... #mg always says i need to be more strict but even to her i let her have her way sometimes... and i stop everyone before its too much... #what.... what am i even doing.... #go-forwardgram #seari talks #// I AM OKAY GUYS THIS IS RP

[joonie-beanie]

A Dragon's Constitution | [Neuvillette x Reader]

Summary: Iudex Neuvillette has been acting a little...strange, as of late. Worried about him, Sigewinne and Wriothesley come up with a plan to help lessen his load. “I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.” Well, being Neuvillette's assistant for a week shouldn't be that bad. Unless, of course, the reason Neuvillette has been acting strange is due to the fact that he's actually a dragon that has regained his full power, and now, with the return of said power, his body is experiencing things he's never known before now. Because that would be totally crazy...right? Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Rut, fem!reader Word Count: 10.8k Note: this occurs after "Doctor's Orders"

Sigewinne is the first to hear the rumors about Iudex Neuvillette—although Wriothesley isn’t far behind.

The first indication that something might be wrong with the Iudex is brought up in a letter—one penned by Sedene that is delivered to Sigewinne. In the letter, Sedene writes that since Fontaine has overcome its disaster, everything has been going well…except, Neuvillette has been behaving a little…strange.

Sedene does not elaborate on what exactly is wrong, and Sigewinne assumes that’s because she doesn’t know. Melusine have the ability to sense things, but the things they sense aren’t always accompanied with an answer.

And so, Sigewinne writes back telling Sedene to make sure Neuvillette is staying hydrated (since she knows he has been particularly busy as of late), and that she’ll try and make a trip to see him soon, when she has the time.

The following day, a new batch of wrongdoers arrive in the prison, and along with them—some speculations about Fontaine’s supreme judge.

“I think I deserve a retrial,” one of the men says, clearly frustrated. “I stated my case, but then Iudex Neuvillette actually blanked, and had to ask me to repeat myself! After I said everything so eloquently! That’s why I’m down here, man. I was so surprised by it that when I said my argument again, I sounded lame…this sucks.”

Listening from behind a nearby pillar, Wriothesley frowns to himself. 

Neuvillette getting distracted in court? Well, that’s certainly a first—and a worrying first, at that.

Before the day’s end, Wriothesley and Sigewinne seek each other out. Equally concerned about what they’ve been hearing, they spend the evening coming up with a plan. Something they might be able to do to help Neuvillette.

The next morning, you wake up and get ready—prepared to go and spend a few days below ground in the Fortress…only to find Wriothesley on your doorstep.

“Hi,” he says with a smile when you pull your front door open.

Your eyes go wide, and you glance either way down the street, wondering if you’re being pranked. 

When nothing seems suspicious, you reach out and touch Wriothesley’s chest to make sure he’s real.

He immediately rolls his eyes and snatches your hand, bringing it to his lips.

“Yes, I’m real. Yes, I’m here.”

“Good—but, why are you here?” you ask. 

Not that he isn’t welcome at your apartment, but…you just didn’t expect to see him here. On the surface. At your place of residence.

“Am I late or something? I thought we scheduled for me to come back to the Fortress today.”

“No, you are not late,” he reassures you. He gives your hand a little squeeze before allowing you to have it back.

“There’s been…a little change in your schedule.”

You cock an eyebrow at him.

“What kind of change?”

Does he want you to stay on the surface a few more days before coming back down? Considering he’s here, maybe he’s got some business on the surface, which would mean there’s no point in you going to the Fortress right now.

Wriothesley’s smile grows—little crow's feet appearing at the corner of his eyes.

“I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.”

…

Huh?

“Here.”

Wriothesley grabs your bag—the one slung over your arm and packed with items that should have tied you over while you stayed in the Fortress—and tosses it back into your apartment.

Then, he gently grabs your waist, pulls you out onto the street, and closes the door to your apartment behind you. He checks the door to make sure it’s locked, and when he finds that it is, he nods in satisfaction.

“C’mon, keep up,” he says, starting up the street. His boots are heavy against the pavement.

Blinking, you finally snap out of it and jog to catch up with him.

“Hold on, you—you’re lending me to Iudex Neuvillette?”

You’ve never known the man to have an assistant, and from what you’ve heard from Wriothesley and others, he tends to prefer working alone. Aside from that, he’s very skilled at his job, and typically doesn’t need help—even with the never ending case load.

“...did he consent to this?”

Wriothesley smiles, loving how smart you are.

“Not yet, but he will.”

The two of you turn a corner, heading towards an elevator that will take you up towards the Palais Mermonia. You narrow your eyes at Wriothesley. He waves you off.

“Sigewinne and I both heard that he seems a little…stressed lately. And we decided the best thing we could do right now, aside from giving him our support, would be lending him you. So, assuming he is in need of help, I don’t see why he would turn our offer down, considering how proficient you are.”

“While I appreciate the praise, I think you’re underestimating the pride of men,” you tell him, standing at his side as the two of you arrive at the elevator. Wriothesley hits the button to summon it to your floor.

“Hey, when I got busier than usual, I hired you,” he points out. You cock an eyebrow at him.

“I’m 99% sure the only reason you hired me was due to Sigewinne's influence. I bet she saw your stress growing and bugged you to get an assistant until you finally gave in.”

Wriothesley sighs.

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t so smart.”

You grin, holding your head high.

Finally, the elevator arrives on your floor. When the door opens, Wriothesley motions for you to board first. Then, he follows you on.

“So, let’s say Sigewinne did insist I hire an assistant. The result of doing so was positive. My work got easier, and my life improved. If we present that logic to Neuvillette, there’s no reason he should decline our help. Plus, he tends to listen to Sigewinne.”

You sigh, watching the city outside the glass doors of the elevator. You’re nearly to the floor the Palais Mermonia is on.

“If Neuvillette agrees that he wants the help, I have no issue being his assistant for the week.”

Wriothesley catches your silent drift of “you get the pleasure of trying to convince him to accept help, though”. 

Which is fine. He loves a good challenge.

“Sigewinne and I appreciate your cooperation,” he tells you sincerely.

Arriving on your floor, the elevator doors open, and you step out first—standing aside to allow Wriothesley to walk past you and lead the way. A few gazes are thrown your way as you go—people surprised to see the Duke of the Fortress above ground for once—but Wriothesley doesn’t react, so neither do you.

Sticking by his side, you follow him up the steps and through the front door of the building. 

“Duke Wriothesley,” Sedene greets as you near the doors of Neuvillette’s office. She runs up to the two of you, her eyes somewhat nervously shifting towards the office doors.

“Iudex Neuvillette, he…”

She wants to say that he’s not accepting visitors at the moment, but she can’t get the words out—obviously worried about him. Wriothesley flashes her a kind smile.

“Sigewinne sent us,” he tells her, relief immediately appearing on her face at his words. “Is Neuvillette in?”

“Yes, he is in,” she confirms, and then scuttles back over to her desk, only to return a moment later with a tray of tea (or, teacups and water?) in her hands. 

“Take this when you go in, that should help.”

“I appreciate that,” Wriothesley responds. You reach down to take the tray from her hands, quietly thanking her as well. She flashes you a smile, gives you a thumbs up, and then goes back to work.

You and Wriothesley glance at each other. Seeing you’re ready, he raps his knuckles on the door thrice, and enters the room when Neuvillette’s muffled and somewhat reluctant “come in” is heard from beyond the door.

Gripping the handle, Wriothesley pushes his way inside. You dutifully follow after him.

Once in the office—the door shutting softly behind you—you quickly realize that perhaps something is wrong with the Iudex. Because for a man known for his neatness, and professionalism, his office is quite…untidy, at the moment. 

Papers are scattered along his desk—piles uneven, and threatening to fall. And on the coffee table nearby, there are multiple cups, along with empty bottles of imported water. Not to mention books that are strewed around—some even on the floor.

Wriothesley takes quick stock of the state of the office before his gaze settles on Neuvillette, who is sitting at his desk. He's wearing his normal robes, and yet he looks…strangely disheveled. Perhaps it's the faint dark circles under his eyes, or the way his hair looks less kept than usual?

“I thought I instructed that there were to be no—oh, Wriothesley.”

Neuvillette's tone of measured annoyance softens the second he looks up and sees who it actually is that has entered his office. Then, he sighs, feeling ashamed of his initial attitude.

“I apologize. Did you request a meeting? I don't recall getting any correspondence about it, unless it was accidentally left off my calendar.”

“No need for apologies, Monsieur Neuvillette. I am the one who should be apologizing, as I did not reach out beforehand to let anyone know that I was coming.”

Wriothesley bows in slight apology, and you mirror him, figuring it's the right thing to do since you're technically also intruding.

“I know you're very busy, so I'll cut right to the chase to save us both time. Sigewinne and I are concerned about you, since we've both heard from multiple sources that you seem a little out of sorts as of late. So, in an attempt to help lessen your load, I'd like to offer you my assistant, Y/N, for the week.”

For the first time since you'd entered with Wriothesley, Neuvillette’s sharp eyes slide to you. You force a polite smile to your lips and—remembering the tray in your hands—move to set it on the nearby table.

Quickly filling one of the glasses with the water, you stride over to Neuvillette’s desk and offer it to him.

“Pleased to meet you,” you simply say. 

“And you as well,” he responds, keeping up formalities.

Taking the glass from your hand, Neuvillette takes a long sip of water, and you scoot back to Wriothesley’s side. Once Neuvillette has finished his drink, he places the glass down on his desk and sighs.

“I assure you that I am alright, and there is no need for concern.”

“I hate to disagree, but based on the state of your office, I can't believe that's true.”

Neuvillette’s gaze slides around his office, as if truly seeing it for the first time in days. His brows pinch together as he realizes Wriothesley is right. He hadn't noticed it'd become so messy…

“I will admit I have been a little…scattered, lately. But it's nothing I cannot handle. Lending me your assistant would only increase the burden of your own workload, which I cannot accept.”

“Actually,” Wriothesley is quick to counter. “I hired Y/N before the disaster, because much of my time was occupied watching the primordial sea gate, and preparing the Wingalet. Now that the disaster has passed, and things have relatively calmed down, my workload has greatly lessened. Meaning, I have no issue temporarily lending her to you.”

Knowing Wriothesley is only willing to give you up temporarily—meaning he'll want you back to himself at some point—makes you happy.

“Be that as it may, I will still have to decline your offer.”

Alright then, time to break out the big guns.

“I know since Furina stepped down as the Archon, you've only gotten busier,” Wriothesley tells him, fixing him with a concerned stare. “And because of that, Sigewinne is worried. If you could just accept Y/N's help for the week, I'm sure that would help put her mind at ease.”

The mention of Sigewinne causes Neuvillette to frown, so Wriothesley quickly lays it on thicker.

“I assure you that Y/N has been a great aide to me,” he says, his gaze meeting yours. “Sigewinne recommends her as well. If you allow her to help you for a few days, I have no doubt she’ll be of use to you. So please, Neuvillette.”

Neuvillette places his elbows on his desk and folds his hands together. It takes a few seconds, but eventually, he sighs.

“Fine. If Y/N is okay with this arrangement, I shall accept her help.”

Both men look your way. You smile.

“I’d be more than happy to help with whatever I can.”

Honestly, you hadn’t expected to find yourself here, and aren’t even sure what there is you can do to support him, but considering how tired he looks, you’ll surely try your best.

“Good! Glad that’s settled.”

With a happy grin—pleased that he has won the battle—Wriothesley turns to you. He cups the back of your head and drags you in—his lips pressing into your hair.

“I’ll come visit on Saturday to take her back into my care. Best of luck to you both,” he says, heading for the door. He waves his hand at you and Neuvillette over his shoulder, and without saying anything else, exits the office.

You stare at the closed door for a second, before you take a deep breath, plaster on a smile, and turn back to Neuvillette.

…only to find that he’s fixing you with a peculiar stare.

“Are you and Wriothesley seeing each other…?” he asks.

Ah, right, the way Wriothesley had kissed your head before leaving…

“We are not,” you assure him, taking a few steps towards his desk. “Since entering his employment the two of us have just become…fond of each other.”

Which isn’t a lie. You and Wriothesley are quite fond of each other—fond enough that every time you go to stay in the Fortress, you find yourself in his bed at least once (and not just because Sigewinne has instructed Wriothesley to continue having sex to keep his stress levels down). And no, you’re not dating, but that’s fine. You enjoy what you have with him right now, and honestly, it’d be a bad look if anyone found out Wriothesley was dating his assistant anyway.

“I see,” Neuvillette nods, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “I apologize for presuming.”

“No need to apologize, Monsieur,” you respond, stepping up beside his desk. You smile at him—softer, and more genuine this time.

“Now, what can I assist you with?”

While it takes a short while for Neuvillette to adjust to the idea of having an assistant to help with things, soon enough, the two of you come to an understanding.

He admits that he has been struggling to juggle court cases and new paperwork that needs to be signed off on now that the judicial system is changing (thanks to recent developments). So, you put forth the idea to allocate time to signing documents, and while you run things where they need to go afterwards, Neuvillette can address any cases on his docket. 

Not having any better idea, he goes with your plan.

While Neuvillette busies himself with signing paperwork, you flit around his office—cleaning up empty bottles and used cups, and putting abandoned books back on the shelves.

By the time you’ve finished organizing (taking your time to make sure everything is put back in its proper place), Neuvillette has finished reviewing his first stack of papers.

“These have all been signed off on,” he says, summoning you to his side. He points at the top right hand corner of the paper. “This area on each document will show you where it needs to be returned.”

“Understood,” you respond, taking the stack from him. You cradle the papers in your arms and leaf through the first few sheets while heading for the door. However, you quickly realize the documents aren’t grouped by which location they need to be dropped at.

So, you make a detour at the coffee table—gently sitting yourself on the sofa as you begin sorting the papers into smaller stacks, grouped by department. Once you’ve done that, you pile them all together again, and continue towards the door—unaware of the way Neuvillette’s lips tug into a smile at your actions.

Delivering documents where they need to go takes up the remainder of your morning, and by the time you’ve finished, your stomach is growling. So—figuring that Neuvillette won’t have stepped away from his desk yet—you decide to pick up something for the both of you.

“You've returned,” he says without looking up from the document in his hand as you step into his office. “I assume everything has been delivered?”

“Yes,” you respond with a nod, his gaze finally rising to look at you as he hears the sound of the bag in your hand, and smells the contents within. “And I grabbed us lunch. I assume you haven’t eaten?”

“I have not,” he confirms. His eyes watch you as you b-line for the coffee table and begin unpacking the take-out food. “I’m not sure what you like, but I figured I’d play it safe and go with soup, since you seem to enjoy…liquids.”

How else are you supposed to describe his taste when all you've seen him consume today is cup after cup of water?

Surprised, Neuvillette puts down the paper in his hand.

Standing from his chair, he makes his way over, staring at the clear broth of the consomme.

“...I think I'm beginning to see why Wriothesley enjoys having you as an assistant.”

“Oh? Sounds like Iudex Neuvillette is becoming fond of me too,” you say—very jokingly. “You may have to fight Wriothesley for me later. Assuming I stay as helpful during the remainder of the week.”

You half expect Neuvillette to say say something about how a fight won’t be necessary, as you're only a temporary loan, and he shouldn't need help beyond this week anyway—but instead, he cracks a smile, grabs his portion of the consomme, and says—

“I'll have to keep that in mind.”

—before he returns to his desk and continues working through his lunch.

In the afternoon, Neuvillette remains immersed in paperwork and other documents. You mostly spend your time making sure he has enough water available to drink, and fetching him any books or materials he asks for, so he doesn’t have to step away from his desk and break his concentration.

It’s a dynamic that works, and already, you can tell his stress has lessened—now that he’s caught up on many tasks. However, there’s still the slightest pinch to his brow, and a tiny flush on the skin of his neck despite the fact that it’s not overly hot in his office (at least, in your opinion. But maybe all that hair of his is warm?).

However, you don’t bother overthinking it. It’s still your first day assisting him. It would be crazy to think he’d suddenly be stress-free after a few hours in your care.

When the clock strikes 5, Neuvillette doesn’t miss a beat.

“You may go home for the day.”

You blink, looking around for the time.

“...will you continue working?”

“Yes, but that isn’t out of the ordinary,” Neuvillette responds, taking a sip from the glass of water on his desk. “However, your station doesn’t warrant you working overtime. You should go home now and enjoy your evening.”

You suppose he’s right…there are some things you can’t really assist him with anyway. Plus, you still have four more days working under him.

“Alright then, I won’t argue with you,” you respond. You gather up what little things you had brought with you, and then head for the door. But, before you go, you turn back to him.

“When should I come tomorrow? 8am?”

“9am will be fine.”

“Understood,” you nod, flashing him a smile. “Then, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Monsieur.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he responds in kind, watching you as you open the door and slip out of his office.

His gaze only lingers on the spot where you stood for a brief moment before he returns to his work.

The next day, you arrive at Neuvillette’s office at the agreed upon time, only to find that he’s getting ready to leave.

“I have some trials at the Opera Epiclese today,” he says. “You are welcome to join me.”

And really, who would pass up that offer?

So, without even setting your things down, you follow Neuvillette out of the building and to the Navia line—boarding an aquabus that will take you to the opera house.

Neuvillette garners a lot of attention as the two of you make your way to the building, but you do your best to tune out any stares or whispers. You think Neuvillette’s popularity among the people will never die.

“I have a guest today,” Neuvillette tells one of the staff members once you’ve entered the main hall. “Please make sure she is given a seat.”

“Of course,” they assure him, to which he nods. His eyes catch yours. 

“I will find you once the trials are over,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond. “Good luck.”

He cocks an eyebrow at your sentiment.

“Luck is typically not required,” he tells you. You feel a little heat of embarrassment rise on your skin, but the smile that appears at the corner of Neuvillette’s lips assures you he’s only joking with you. 

“Nonetheless, thank you.”

With that, he turns and heads up a staircase that will lead him upstairs to the judge’s seat.

You follow the staff member into the theater, still feeling a little warm.

As it turns out, Neuvillette has a full docket today. 

From morning to afternoon, you spend your day settled into your seat in the theater—watching prosecutors and defendants present evidence and argue back and forth.The cases draw most of your attention, but your gaze still strays to Neuvillette every so often, just to make sure he’s alright.

And he seems to be…for the most part.

Once or twice, you notice that his eyes are unfocused—staring off into the distance, and not at the person who is speaking. And when a recess is taken for lunch, and Neuvillette finds you to invite you to partake in lunch with him, you notice that the flush on his neck has returned.

Silently, you wonder if he’s getting sick…although you’ve never heard of Iudex Neuvillette being sick before now.

You make sure to send him back up to his stand with an extra bottle of water (which he downs quite quickly. Then, he even motions for one of the nearby employees to bring him more, which…also must be a little strange, considering you see some people in the audience watching Neuvillette, instead of the “show”).

By the time his docket has been cleared, and the two of you take the aquabus back to the city, the work day is over. You and Neuvillette bid each other farewell, and you return home.

Your third day is spent helping Neuvillette finish up paperwork related to the cases from the previous day. 

He remains flushed the entire time—the blush on his neck creeping up to his ears. He also begins sighing heavily every so often, and his requests for water become more frequent—to the point where Sedene, who guards Neuvillette’s stash of imported waters, even gets surprised by how quickly he’s going through them.

However, it’s not until the fourth day—when you see Neuvillette behind his desk, face flushed, sweat beading on his brow, and his official robes discarded due to how hot he is—that you finally have the guts to speak up.

“Monsieur,” you say hesitantly, remaining gentle despite the way his head nearly snaps up to look at you. 

“Is it possible that you’re sick?”

Neuvillette frowns at the suggestion, as if that’s impossible, but…after a few seconds, he seems contemplative.

“Would you be able to go to the library and fetch me a book?” he responds without answering your original question. He writes the title down on a piece of paper for you, and you take it—unable to say no.

After a short trip to the library, you recruit the help of the librarian, who points you in the right direction, and—soon enough—you find what Neuvillette has asked for.

A book on the history of the Dragon Authorities.

…huh.

Dutifully, you take the book back to Neuvillette after checking it out, and he thanks you—setting it off to the side until he has finished what he’s working on. It takes another hour or so, but finally, out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the book.

He flips through the pages until he finds the section he’s most interested in, and then he just…reads. For a while.

You keep yourself busy organizing paperwork in the meantime, and don’t pay him much mind. At least, until you hear a crunching sound.

Startled, you glance over at Neuvillette, only to find that his desk is cracked—his hand gripping it so hard that the wood has actually splintered.

You jump to your feet.

“Neuvillette—?!”

“Leave.”

There’s an edge to his typically calm voice.

“What—”

You’re unable to get more than a word out before his sharp eyes find you—his pupils like daggers.

“Leave,” he repeats, slightly more calm. Although, you swear you can almost hear a rumble in his chest.

Your heart sinks, worry blooming in your chest. Did you do something to upset him?

Seeing how your face twists, Neuvillette takes a deep breath.

“I apologize,” he says, his tone measured. His eyes meet yours for a long beat before he glances away, unable to look at you.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, and I appreciate your help until now, but I will no longer be needing your assistance. Please go home.”

Not understanding why he’s had a sudden change in demeanor, you want to prod him for answers about what’s going on, but…seeing the tenseness of his body, and the way his chest heaves, you decide to listen to his request.

Without further argument, you gather your things and quickly head for the door—only pausing to say one last thing before leaving.

“It was nice working with you, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you tell him, a smile tugging at your lips even though he refuses to look your way. “If you ever need my assistance again, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

The sound of the door shutting behind you is loud in Neuvillette’s ears, and once you’re gone, he finally lets go of his desk—chips of wood sprinkling the floor at his feet.

He attempts to take a deep breath to calm himself—but it has the opposite effect—his jaw clenching as his senses are flooded with the scents in his office, all of which seem more pungent than usual.

Leather book covers, fresh ink, Springvale water, his freshly washed robe, and a fleeting, sweet scent…

A scent that he wants to chase after.

He closes his eyes, stopping his train of thought.

Then, with shaking fingers, he picks up his pen and grabs a piece of paper.

As he drafts the notice of closure he intends to pass along to Sedene, a thunderstorm begins brewing outside his window.

On the morning of what should have been your fifth and final day in Neuvillette’s care, you wake up and find that you can’t simply let things be. 

You do your best to distract yourself with whatever chores in your apartment need doing, but it doesn’t work. You can’t stop thinking about Neuvillette—the flush on his skin, and the way his eyes had looked when he’d commanded you to leave.

It had all just felt so…out of character. You can’t help but worry about him.

So, despite the thunderstorm that’s been raging outside since you’d returned home the evening before, you decide to go and check on him.

You bundle yourself up in a coat and shoes that won’t be ruined by the rain, and then grab your umbrella—heading out into the storm.

As expected, not many people are out, which makes traversing the streets quite easy. You ride the elevator up to the Palais Mermonia alone, running up the steps and into the building to escape the rain.

In your hurry, you miss the notice that’s been posted on the doors to the building.

Once inside, you close your umbrella and prepare an apology to Sedene for dripping all over the floor, but to your surprise, she’s not at her desk. In fact, there’s not a soul in sight—the lights off, and the hall empty.

You’ve never heard of the Palais Mermonia shutting down before…

You take a step back towards the entrance as lightning illuminates the room—figuring it’s best if you leave. But…

Your gaze strays towards the doors to Neuvillette’s office, and after a beat, your feet begin moving on their own.

Assuming Neuvillette is here (because it’s not hard to imagine him working, even if everyone else is gone), you want to make sure he’s alright. 

So, you grip the handle to his office door, and quietly push your way inside.

A clap of thunder drowns out the sound of the office door clicking closed, and you take a step deeper inside, your eyes peering around the room.

In the darkness, you don't immediately spot anyone.

“Neuvillette?” you call out, just to be sure.

Before his name has finished leaving your lips, a shadow moves. Something rounding Neuvillette’s desk and heading towards you—snake-like eyes shining through the darkness.

Your heart jumps into your throat, and you trip over your feet in a panic as you rush to grab the handle of the office door—hoping to throw it open and dart outside before whatever monster you’ve just walked in on is able to get to you.

And really—it has to be a monster. It’s quicker than you—quicker than a normal human—crossing Neuvillette’s office in less than a second.

A scaled hand slams against the door beside your head, and little sound of fear is ripped from your throat. 

You're being prevented from leaving—the door not budging even when you try and discreetly tug at the handle.

Your chest shudders as you take a breath, and you squeeze your eyes shut, fearing the worst.

Even with your back turned, you know there's some sort of beast behind you. One that’s stronger than you. One that will probably end your life before you can beg for mercy— 

“I told you not to return here.”

The sound of Neuvillette’s voice beside your ear causes you to jolt.

He’s so close to you that you can feel his breath on your skin, and while realizing that it’s Neuvillette who is behind you should be a comfort, it’s also…frightening. 

You’re aware—like most Fontainians—that Iudex Neuvillette is not totally human, considering he has been presiding as the chief judge for more than a few centuries now, but…you’ve never seen him act like this.

“I…was worried about you. After yesterday,” you respond, finally finding your voice. 

“I sent you away for a reason.”

His voice is deeper than normal—a rumble vibrating in his chest as he speaks. 

His lips brush the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. Goosebumps rise on your skin and your heart races faster despite your best efforts to stay calm. 

However, staying calm isn’t easy to do in this situation—especially when Neuvillette literally starts to glow.

The scales on his hand which you’d spotted early begin to softly shine blue in the dim light of the room—his nails curling and carving uneven lines into the wood of the door in front of you.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, your breath hitching when his free arm suddenly curls around you. His forearm rests between your breasts, his palm splaying over your sternum, and you feel him take a deep breath—almost like he’s inhaling your scent.

“I was trying to protect you,” he says, his nose brushing against the skin of your throat. He can feel your pulse raising—your heart thundering in your chest.

You unconsciously grip the door knob tighter.

“Protect me from what, exactly, Monsieur…?”

“Me,” he responds.

His words send electricity up your spine.

“The way I’ve been acting—the way I’ve been feeling recently—it’s very unusual, and something I’ve never experienced before,” he admits—his warmth bleeding into your back as his body curls around you.

“That’s why I had you retrieve that book for me when you questioned if I was ill. There was a small change in my…constitution, lately. One that only early generations of my kind have experienced. So I wanted to brush up on history, and see if I could find any clues. And I did.”

He takes another long breath, and you hear the wood of the door crunch as his grip tightens.

“Experiencing a lack of focus, increased appetite, increased body temperature, and increased sensitivity to certain scents are all signs of one thing. An impending rut.”

A rut.

The word hits you like a train.

“While having an assistant was a nice change, being around you only exacerbated the issue.”

He doubts you’d taken notice with how immersed you’d been in your own tasks this week, but Neuvillette has been watching you. The way you tuck your hair back when you’re reading, the way your ass looks when you bend down to gather papers, the scent of your perfume whenever you approach his desk…

At first, he’d been distraught by his own actions—not understanding why he was being so…improper towards you. But now he gets it.

His instincts have been itching for something to mate. And now that something is you.

Diligent, kind, and pretty…those traits, combined with being around you 8 hours a day, have made you an easy pick.

“That’s why I told you to leave. Why I closed down Palais Mermonia today—to spare anyone any trouble, and to try and deal with this on my own. But you just had to come back…”

The hand on your chest inches closer to your breast—fingers hovering above the soft mound of flesh—before Neuvillette catches himself, and backs off.

“I think I have enough willpower remaining to grant you one last chance,” he tells you, although his throat tightens as he speaks—as if saying such a thing pains him.

“I’ll release you, and when I do, run.”

Run.

Run.

Your instincts scream at you to do just that—the world moving in slow motion as Neuvillette takes a deep breath and takes a step back. 

His hands retract, momentarily relinquishing their hold on you and the door.

All you need to do now is twist the handle and dart outside. To leave him here, and not look back.

You turn the handle, and the door inches open. Behind you, you swear you hear something akin to a whine becoming trapped in Neuvillette’s throat. 

Despite his words, he doesn’t want you to leave. He’s only doing this out of consideration for you.

But…based on the way he’d spoken about his rut—the way he’d needed to read up on his symptoms to determine what exactly was going on—he’s obviously never had to deal with this before. And from what you know of ruts and heat cycles and the like, you doubt dealing with this alone will be enjoyable for him. 

In fact, it will probably be painful.

Your grip on the door handle tightens painfully.

You’re scared, but—

Slowly, you close the door—until it clicks, and you’re once again trapped inside the room with Neuvillette. 

You can’t leave him here to suffer on his own.

Neuvillette’s arms wrap around you. His nails dig into your skin through your shirt.

“Why didn’t you leave, you—”

His frustrated voice cuts off, and you can only assume he wants to call you some silly name, but can’t bring himself to. Ever polite, even in this state of his.

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, his long hair tickling your cheek. You reach up one of your hands and gently pet his hair.

“It didn’t feel right to leave you here. Alone,” you respond, and despite the way your heart is racing nervously, you still don’t regret your decision.

Neuvillette huffs. His breath is hot on your skin.

“I won’t be able to stop myself any longer,” he tells you. The truth in his words become apparent a moment later, when you feel his canines scrape your neck, and his pelvis grind against your ass. 

The almighty Iudex—helpless to fight his instincts.

“I know,” you say quietly. Your other hand gives his arm a little squeeze—a reassurance that you’ll be okay. 

“This is wrong of me…”

The frustration in his tone is quickly melting into desperation, his lips incessant at your neck.

A quiet laugh leaves you.

“Wriothesley and I…we already do this kind of thing together. So…if it helps, consider it a part of my job.”

Truthfully, you don’t consider it to be a part of your job. What you and Wriothesley have is not born out of obligation (although, neither is this). But you’re sure hearing such a thing from you will help put Neuvillette at ease, considering his penchant for propriety.

And, of course, it does.

He takes a deep breath—

“Thank you—”

—and then immediately grabs your chin, and turns your head so he can kiss you.

The noise of surprise you make is quickly drowned out by his tongue. A tongue that is longer than a humans, considering it pushes into the back of your mouth—nearly forcing past your uvula and down your throat.

The intense kiss has you fisting your hands in his shirt, your eyes squeezing shut as you attempt to reciprocate, but with every passing second, you realize that will be impossible.

He is absolutely going to swallow you whole.

His barrage of sloppy, passionate kisses go on for what seems like forever—your head actually beginning to swim as your body fights for oxygen.

Only when the first, pathetic whine leaves your throat does Neuvillette remember he needs to allow you to breathe. 

Retracting his tongue, a line of spit connects the two of you as you begin gasping for air.

However, Neuvillette is unable to wait for you to regain your bearings.

He grabs you by the backs of your thighs and hefts you into the air—your knees straddling either side of his torso as he carries you across his office, and over to the sofa.

He lays you down on the soft cushions, and you stare up at him, your skin flushed, eyes wide, and chest heaving.

He needs to see more of you. Needs to hear more cute sounds. Needs you all fucked out and stuffed with his—

Swooping down, Neuvillette captures your lips again. But this time, it’s more of a proper make-out—his lips melding against yours and your tongues rolling together as his hands trace your waist and settle near your hips.

You gasp into his mouth when you feel his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants. Then, a beat later, the hem of your panties.

Both items of clothing are in the way of what he wants.

In one swift move, he discards them both—stripping your lower half bare. He deposits your clothing on the floor beside the couch, and as he does so, he sits back—his gaze heavy with hunger as he admires you.

The intensity with which he regards you has you quickly feeling self-conscious, but before you can even think of trying to shield yourself from him, his hands are on your knees.

He pries your legs apart. 

You can't help the little gasp that leaves you—your pussy throbbing with nervous anticipation as his fingertips trace up your thighs.

His palms settle on your hips, and again, a noise is ripped out of you as he forces your lower half off the couch.

As if you weigh nothing more than a feather, Neuvillette drags you down the couch to meet him—your spine curving as he continues to manhandle you—lifting your pelvis farther and farther off the cushions, until your ass is resting on his chest, and your legs are thrown over his shoulders.

His gaze angles sharply downwards, to your cunt. And for a second, the pressure he exudes is truly that of a dragon—one that could unhinge its jaw and swallow you in one bite.

But while Neuvillette does open his mouth, he doesn’t bare any teeth.

No, the Hydro Dragon Sovereign actually wets his lips before he leans down to meet you.

The first taste of his meal.

You can’t help but hold your breath—your fingers curling into the couch cushions beneath you as Neuvillette’s tongue nudges between your folds.

He traces his tongue up—circling your clit, and making you jolt—before dragging it back down to the spot where your arousal has started to pool. You can feel the pressure of his tongue as he presses it at your entrance.

And for a few seconds, he doesn’t move. He just sits there, silently allowing your taste—your essence—to wash over his tongue. But once he's sure that he's memorized the taste of you—committed it to his memory as a sinful pleasure he’ll surely relish in during the millennia yet to come—he gets down to business.

His tongue nudges between your walls, his nose brushing up against the soft skin of your pussy as he makes his mouth flush with you. And as he does so, you (foolishly) assume he's as deep as he can go. That the stretch of your cunt around his tongue will be good preparation for what's likely to come, and he'll simply lap at you until he's satisfied.

…of course, if he was a normal man, that might be the case.

You keep forgetting that he's a dragon.

“Oh, fuck,” you pant, hips jumping in his hold as his tongue suddenly thickens and elongates. It twists deeper inside of you, filling up your cunt wholly.

You've never felt anything akin to this before.

“Monsieur—,” you say, breathless. You can't even think of what you want to say to him.

His sharp eyes slide open, meeting yours. 

He says nothing, doesn't dare to take his mouth off of you to speak—not willing to let a drop of you go to waste. But, he does give your leg a little squeeze—a small reassurance, you think.

Then, his tongue starts to move.

He fucks it inside of you with precise control—rolling it up against different areas inside of you until he locates that one special spot that makes you gasp. Your thighs tighten around his head, and your pussy clamps down on his tongue, causing a happy little rumble to resound inside Neuvillette’s chest.

He becomes relentless immediately, his nose brushing up against your clit as he continues grinding his tongue inside of you. Your body writhes, and he holds you tightly—his fingers pressing bruises into your skin where he touches you.

He can't stop. 

He bullies your g-spot incessantly.

You feel like you’re on fire—pleasure scorching away at the nerves that connect your brain to your body. 

You can't control yourself.

The moans and whines that escape you—the arousal that gushes over Neuvillette’s tongue as he continues fucking you…

“Monsieur…Neuvillette, I—”

Oh god, you can't even get a full sentence out. You want to warn him that you're going to cum—that you won't be able to hold back if his tongue continues moving inside of you like that—but he already knows. He can sense what's coming in the way your muscles tense, and your breath catches.

Cum, he wants to say, but doesn't—not daring to remove his mouth from you when you're on the precipice of an orgasm. 

Within seconds, you come undone—the walls of your pussy fluttering around him, and helpless whimpers falling from your lips.

And yet, even with you being mid-orgasm, a dragon that's drunk on the taste of you pushes for more. He folds you over—trying to reach deeper inside of you. 

The slick from your pussy overflows and drips down between the cheeks of your ass, and immediately, Neuvillette’s fingers are there—gathering it up and smearing it against your hole.

The sensation has you sharply intaking a breath.

“Neuvillette, you're—”

“Shh,” he says, for the first time retracting his tongue from inside of you. He kisses at your clit, his free hand trailing up your torso and beneath your shirt. 

“Lift your arms,” he says, his voice deep, and yet soft. The hunger in his gaze hasn't waned one bit, but knowing he has a mate to help him through his rut has put him somewhat at ease, and he doesn't want you to fear him.

Without arguing, you do as he says, and he manages to wrestle your shirt over your head. 

Finally, you're bare beneath him. 

He takes a second to admire you, his hand moving to rest against one of your breasts. He cups it with his palm, his thumb brushing against your hardened nipple, and when you immediately jolt in response—he almost smiles.

Almost, because he still has more work to do if he wants to fully indulge in you, and satisfy his own needs.

“I'll take care of you,” he promises. “Trust me.”

And before you can even think of how to respond, he slips one of his fingers into your ass. 

The gasp that leaves you quickly deteriorates into a lewd moan as his tongue once again returns to your cunt, and you swear it’s somehow even bigger than it was before. 

Not having forgotten his new discoveries, Neuvillette effortlessly locates that special little spot inside of you and begins assaulting it once more—reveling in the way your body shakes, and your ass flutters around his finger. 

He needs you pliant and ready for him, and it takes all of his willpower to not rush. To work at the pace your body needs.

Luckily, his mouth on your pussy and his hand on your breast helps loosen you up. The tension you'd first held—nervous about stepping into the dragon's clutches—begins melting away. 

You trust that he won't hurt you.

“Ah—!” 

He slips a second finger inside of you.

Compared to the incessant rub of his tongue inside you, the motion of his fingers is calmer—a purposeful, moderate pace—and the dueling sensations make your head spin.

It's all so much. 

“Neuvillette—”

You reach one of your hands up, needing to ground yourself with something—and you end up taking a fistful of his hair. 

Neuvillette very nearly growls at the sensation.

He needs to hear you say his name like that again. Actually, more than that, he needs to feel you clenching down on his—

Neuvillette groans into your pussy as you tug at his hair once more. In response, he retracts his tongue from inside you and drags it upwards—grinding it against your clit.

Instantly, you lose it.

A mix of curses, blabbers, and his name are drawn from you—your body squirming against the couch cushions as he laps at your neglected and sensitive clit. At the same time, he scissors his fingers inside your ass, testing to see if you’re stretched enough for one more—

“Neuvillette—I’m gonna—”

“Cum.” 

He says it this time—a low command partnered with the sensation of a third finger pressing inside of you. But before your brain can even digest the increased girth of his fingers, his mouth suctions back on your clit, and your toes curl.

“Fuck—!” you choke, your head pressing into the cushion as the tension inside of you snaps—pleasure rushing forth.

You unconsciously tug at Neuvillette’s hair and he takes a deep, long breath in through his nose. He’s careful to not stop the motion of his tongue or the grinding of his fingers inside of you until you begin to whine—your hand moving from his hair to his shoulder as you attempt to push him away.

Then, he finally relents.

Sitting back, Neuvillette takes a moment to survey you. 

Your chest heaving as you attempt to catch your breath, a few stray hairs sticking to the skin of your face, the slick arousal that’s smeared against your pussy, and the way you’re asshole flutters around nothing after he slowly removes his fingers…

You’re ready.

Still in the middle of catching your breath, you’re drawn back into reality by the sound of the rustling of clothes.

You peek your eyes open to find Neuvillette above you, shedding himself of his clothing. You hadn't noticed earlier, but he isn’t wearing his formal robes today. Maybe because he hadn't been expecting to see anyone, and therefore hadn’t bothered dressing up to the nines.

Neuvillette starts by loosening his tie, and then unbuttons his shirt—tossing both items down onto the floor, where they lay in a heap along with your own clothing. You expect his pants to be the next to go, but you both realize at the same moment that with his boots on, it will take more time than he wants to completely strip his bottom half.

Luckily, he doesn’t need to be completely naked to fuck you.

Popping the button and tugging down the zipper of his pants, you watch with bated breath as finally shoves his pants and underwear down. The fabric drags across his bulge as he does so, and you note for the first time how…substantial it is. 

He may actually be bigger than Wriothesley, which is something you were not expect—

Neuvillette finishes shoving his clothing down to his thighs, and you watch in pure shock as not one, but two heavy, ribbed, lightly glowing dicks spring out of his trousers.

…oh.

You hold your breath, unable to peel your eyes away from the sight of him. You’d never even considered that as a dragon, his sexual organs may be a bit different from that of a humans. You can understand now why he’d made a point to work your ass open…

Speaking of—

“Neuv—!” you gasp in surprise as he rubs his dicks between the folds of your pussy. You feel the head of one of his members catch at your entrance, but he doesn’t linger there—instead using his hand to guide it down to your ass.

“You’ll be okay,” he says, sensing your apprehension. 

He doesn’t look at you, though, as he says those words—his voice tight with desperation. He can’t wait anymore, so he has to believe them. Has to believe that he’s done enough to prepare you for what’s to come.

Gripping his length tightly, Neuvillette nudges his dick inside your asshole. 

It’s a tight fit—one that has you choking on a whine and grasping at his wrist—your nails digging into his skin. It’s not painful, but it’s still a lot—your chest shuddering as he continues to inch himself deeper inside of you.

As he does so, his other cock grinds against your pussy—helplessly waiting for its own turn to be inside of you, precum leaking from his slit and smearing against your skin.

“Gods,” he pants, a waver in his voice. His eyes are aglow as he watches himself slowly sink into your ass—the friction positively heavenly—and soon enough, he’s fully inside of you, his hips flush with your bottom. 

Your breaths coming quick, and your hand still holding tight around his wrist, the two of you meet eyes.

Then, the last little thread of Neuvillette’s sanity finally crumbles in the face of his overwhelming need to rut.

Claws digging into the flesh of one of your thighs, he forces it wider open, and grabs his second cock with his other hand.

“Neuvillette, wait—,” you try to say, but it’s no use. Even with your ass still adjusting to his intrusion, Neuvillette shoves the head of his cock into your pussy. 

“Oh, fuck—!” you cry, your fingernails digging crescents into his skin. 

Already drenched from Neuvillette’s previous actions, he expects your pussy to take him easier, but with your ass full, and your body struggling to relax, it proves challenging. He can only get his length half way inside of you before you’re gripping him so tightly that he can’t move another inch.

Drunk with desire, he actually growls.

“I—”

I’m sorry, you want to say, but can’t get the words out. You just need a minute to adjust. You can do this for him—want to do this for him—but—

“Hush,” he mumbles, close, and then his lips are on yours. 

His body cages you in as he kisses you—one of his hands resting beside your head, while the other finds the small of your back, rubbing circles into your flesh.

“You’ve been doing so well for me,” he tells you, breathless. “Taking everything I give, responding so perfectly to everything.”

His words of praise go straight to your pussy, and you whine as he pushes deeper inside of you—your walls relaxing enough to allow him farther in.

Neuvillette makes a happy, yet somewhat inhuman noise.

“That's it, good girl…just a bit more.”

Hearing such words from the esteemed Iudex—his hand warm on your back, and his lips soft on your skin…you want nothing more than to please him.

Taking a shaky little breath, you dispel the tension in your body. 

Immediately, Neuvillette takes advantage. With one last nudge, he stuffs the rest of his cock inside of you.

You’ve never felt so full.

Overcome with joy—a satisfaction deep within him that he’s never felt before—Neuvillette kisses you once more. 

…then, he begins to move his hips.

You cry out, your body shaking in his hold, but he doesn’t let you go. 

The slow, full rock of his hips very quickly deteriorates into quick, desperate thrusts—his cocks stretching out your holes.

The sensation is like nothing you’ve experienced before, and you find yourself helpless to do anything at all. You can hear your own voice, but don’t know what you’re saying, or if the sounds you’re making are words at all. Because while it’s your pussy and ass that are being made a mess of, your brain feels equally as scrambled—unable to conjure even one intelligent thought.

Right now, you’re just a dragon's mindless breeding hole.

The sloppy sound of sex fills Neuvillette’s office, and while it is nearly drowned out by the downpour happening outside—thick droplets of rain pelting against the windows—the plap of Neuvillette’s balls against your ass is impossible to miss. 

Ah…you’re going insane.

A tiny sob slips past your lips, tears beading at the corners of your eyes. 

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire—each stroke of Neuvillette’s cocks pushing you closer and closer to the edge of another orgasm. 

“Ahh…”

The heady sound from Neuvillette catches your attention, and you peak your eyes open, staring up at the dragon above you.

Never before have you seen him look so debauched—his hair falling out from his braid, and his face and chest flushed. His eyes remain focused on the space where his body meets yours, mesmerized by the way your body accepts him in full—nearly sucking him in, now that you’ve adjusted and any discomfort has turned to pleasure.

Only when he hears you sob again—a pathetic, desirous little sound—does his gaze stray upwards.

And what he sees makes his heart skip a beat.

He’s not sure he’s ever witnessed a sight so sinful. The plush of your lips, the unshed tears that wet your eyes, and the bounce of your breasts with each of his thrusts. 

Before he knows it, he’s leaning down to kiss you. 

You whine into his mouth, your arms lifting to hug around his shoulders as he closes the distance between your bodies. He groans as your nails leave tracks against his porcelain skin, but he doesn’t relent. 

He’s getting close.

And, judging by the way you whimper—your pussy and ass clenching down on him—you must be close too.

Spurred on, Neuvillette kisses you again and again—his kisses open-mouthed and sloppy as his tongue dances around your own. Drool and tears quickly paint your cheeks, but you’re helpless to do anything about it.

Right now, all you know is that you’re going to cum. The stretch of his cocks—the way they rub against your walls as he continues fucking into you with abandon—it’s too much. Your muscles tense, and Neuvillette’s brows pinch together as your holes suddenly tighten on him.

“Neuvillette,” you sob, the sound of his name broken as you speak it against his lips. 

“Y/N,” he pants in turn. His rhythm becomes careless as he begins to lose it as well, but he continues to fuck you the best he can despite the constricting of your walls.

It’s only a few seconds longer before you come undone—your body shaking and nails digging into his back as you orgasm. Broken little sounds escape from your mouth as waves of pleasure tear through you, and the sensation of you cumming is ultimately what does Neuvillette in as well.

With one last buck of his hips, the Iudex buries himself inside of you and cums.

His chest shudders as you milk him dry, and you struggle to keep your eyes open—feeling utterly boneless now that the tension inside of you has gone.

For a minute, the two of you stay as you are—basking in the afterglow of your orgasms. Then, Neuvillette sits back and slowly pulls out of you. 

You make a quiet noise, feeling yourself clench around nothing once you’re no longer stuffed with his cocks, and he smiles at the sound, sensing a hint of disappointment.

“You did so well,” he tells you. 

Placing his hands on your waist, he gently maneuvers you to allow himself room to lay down on his side beside you. 

The feel of his arm wrapping around you and pulling you snuggly back against his body causes a contented sigh to leave your lips, and after a few seconds, you muster up the energy to speak.

“I take it you feel a bit better now?”

“Much,” he responds, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he presses them to your cheek. 

“However…”

He peppers another kiss against your cheek, and then your jaw, and neck. At the same time, his fingers ghost down your abdomen, until his palm is resting on your lower tummy. 

With gentle pressure, he urges your ass back against him—his hips inching forward at the same time—and shockingly, you realize that he’s still hard.

“...it seems that I’m not satisfied quite yet.”

When Wriothesley emerges from the Fortress the next day, the downpour he’d caught word of from some of the prison guards has stopped—only a few clouds littering the blue sky.

Hopefully this is a good sign, he thinks to himself, starting on his way to the aquabus station. 

He takes the line into the city, intending first to visit Neuvillette at the Palais—to hear about how his week fared with the help of an assistant. Then, once that’s done, he’ll go and visit you at your apartment to…catch up.

Smiling to himself, Wriothesley departs the aquabus and takes the path towards Nevuillette’s office. (Because somehow, he doubts the Iudex is at home relaxing like most people do on their days off.)

As he trudges up the steps to the Palais Mermonia, he steps on a wet piece of paper in front of the door. It’s the handmade notice that had been posted on the door two evenings prior, and had subsequently blown off in the storms that followed—but Wriothesley doesn’t think anything of it.

Pushing the door open, he heads inside.

“Neuvillette?” he calls gently, his knuckles rapping against the door to the Iudex’s office. 

The sound of a throat being cleared comes from inside.

“Come in.”

“I figured I’d find you here,” Wriothesley jokes as he steps inside, spotting Neuvillette as his normal place behind his desk. However, what isn’t normal is the fact that there’s a person sleeping on his couch—their body shrouded with a blanket, and an assortment of untouched food and a glass of water on the coffee table beside them.

Immediately Wriothesley freezes, confused about what’s going on, but…when he looks a bit closerr, he realizes the hair popping out from the top of the blanket, and the scent of the person on his couch are all too familiar.

“Y/N?”

Wriothesley walks up to the sofa, blinking in surprise when he sees that it is indeed you who is passed out—your face just barely peeking from beneath the blankets that have been snuggly wrapped around you.

“You know, Neuvillette, when I lent her to you for the week, I didn’t expect you to work her until the point of exhaustion,” he jokes, looking over towards Neuvillette with a playful hint of a grin. He expects Neuvillette to sigh and apologize, but the abashed look he is instead faced with causes Wriothesley to pause once more. 

It’s then that the Duke notices a small pile of clothes neatly folded on the floor next to the sofa, along with your shoes. 

Hesitantly, Wriothesley grips the edge of the blanket and slowly tugs it away from your body. 

He’s met with the sight of naked shoulders, and a neck peppered with small bites and bruises.

Just as slowly as he’d moved the blanket down, he tugs it back up.

The office sits in silence for a moment. 

“She is…unharmed,” Neuvillette finally speaks, moving a strand of hair away from his face. “Her current state is my fault.”

Wriothesley’s eyes scan over him.

“Compared to when I last saw you, you seem to be faring much better.”

His words cause the blush on Neuvillette’s face to deepen, and Wriothesley cracks a small smile, letting loose a sigh.

“Ahh, to think even the almighty Iudex would fare poorly due to unfulfilled needs.”

“It’s a bit more complex than that,” Neuvillette says with a sigh of his own, prompting Wriothesley to raise an eyebrow. However, when Neuvillette doesn’t speak right away—unsure about divulging the specifics that lead to this outcome—Wriothesley decides to not push it.

“Well, whatever the reason, I trust that you haven’t hurt her, and that she consented to whatever took place here.”

“Of course,” Neuvillette responds immediately.

Standing up from his chair, he walks over and stands beside Wriothesley—reaching down to brush a gloved finger against your cheek. You stir only slightly—nuzzling your face into the pillow your head rests upon.

Both men smile.

“She’s a good assistant, isn’t she?”

“She is; one that works with care and compassion for the one she is helping. She performed well beyond her duties.”

“You can see now why I like her,” Wriothesley says softly, and Neuvillette can see the fondness in his gaze as he regards you.

“She did tell me that she and you are not necessarily in a committed relationship, but…I apologize regardless if I crossed any sort of line.”

Wriothesley hums.

“While the thought of sharing her with anyone else like that does make me feel a bit…possessive…she did consent to what occurred, based on your words. And, honestly speaking, I’m glad it was you over anyone else.”

Neuvillette cocks an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“I trust you,” Wriothesley tells him. “Although, you having sex is not a thought that had crossed my mind before now. It makes me curious as to what exactly you did to her while the two of you were alone.”

“I assure you a majority of her time in my care was spent with her performing her standard duties as an assistant, and nothing else. As to what happened beyond that, well…I’m not sure I possess the courage to recall such details aloud.”

Wriothesley opens his mouth to assure Neuvillette he was just teasing, but the dragon continues before the Duke can interrupt.

“I suppose if you’d like to know, next time—should there be one—you’ll simply have to be present.”

Catching the meaning of his words, Wriothesley meets his gaze. 

Understanding passes between them.

“Hmm…I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Once Y/N has recovered, and when you next return to the surface, I’ll have to invite you both for a meal,” Neuvillette says, turning back towards his desk. “In the end, the support from you both did alleviate the issue that plagued me. It’s only right to repay such kindness when I’m next given the opportunity.”

Kneeling down beside you, Wriothesley pets your hair.

“Well, it would be a shame to pass up on such an offer. I certainly hope that fate grants the opportunity for our schedules to align.”

Taking a seat behind his desk, a small smile appears on Neuvillette’s lips.

“I shall hope for the same.”

#genshin impact smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette fic #genshin impact x reader #bean fic #genshin x reader

[flowersandbigteeth]

Looking for a saucy medieval tradition to weave into your historical romances? Have no fear, foot-of-the-gallows marriage is here! Basically, if a man was about to be hanged and a woman stepped forward and said “I will marry this man!” he was spared because it was was seen as like “oh, she’ll rehabilitate him so we don’t have to kill him.” Now, I heard this from tiktok, so I could be wrong, and it could just be a folk tale or something that rarely happened in actuality. Either way, it’s a cool troupe I think more people should use (and I myself will be using). I think it would work really well with Orcs and Elves!

This is such an intriguing idea! I had to try it. If you end up writing it, tag me, if you are comfortable! I'd love to see what you do with it ^_^

I keep getting Orc ideas, and I can't resist them *feral invasive Orc thoughts* （￣ ｗ￣）Ψ

Orc (Saber) x GN elf reader

Word Count: 6K

TW: discussion of hanging, bad mother, sfw Orc fluff, a bit of melancholy with a happy ending, nonsexual mention of private body parts in the context of bathing

“Goodness, what’s this all about?” you grumbled, clutching your basket closer to you as you made your way through the crowd. 

The stench of rotten vegetables and too many people lingered in the air. 

“It’s a hanging,” a helpful imp beamed, hopping on his tiptoes to see over the crowd. Why people gathered all around to watch someone die, you had no idea, but more importantly, the crowd was blocking your path home. Industrious vendors selling ale and popcorn wove through the throng to collect what coins they could from the event. In the capital, everyone had a hustle, and few left the chance to make some money at the table. 

“Out of the way!” You shouted, shouldering whoever was unlucky enough to be in your way. 

The voice of the city guardsman who was reading off a list of offenses to the crowd drowned yours out, but with a few well-placed shoves, you managed to make it to the front. You were looking around, trying to figure out how to get across the plaza, when you glanced up to see a familiar face. 

“It’s you!” you blurted as your eyes locked with the brilliant chartreuse irises of the Orc standing on the gallows. 

He gave you a wan smile, lifting his tied hands to wave at you. His straight nose was up in the air as if all the rabble around him should be fortunate to have the privilege of watching him die. The thick olive locs you remembered being long had been roughly chopped short around his ears. Still, even dressed in an ill-fitting prison jumpsuit, he had a regal air about him. His barrel chest was puffed, strong muscles peaking between the frayed fabric. 

“Fifty counts of robbery…25 counts of counterfeiting gold coins…seven counts of horse theft…”

The Orc you’d met before’s name was Saber. He’d helped you get your broken cart into town one rainy afternoon…, and then he’d also stolen your necklace, which you’d realized after he’d disappeared. 

“As per the King’s edict, If any citizen pledges to save this soul from the gallows by way of marriage, please step forth.” 

Though he was handsome, no one raised their hands to save him. Instead, they all booed. Judging by the rotten vegetables hurled at him, he seemed to have robbed almost everyone in the capital. 

“Aye!” you shouted, hiking up your pants to pull yourself onto the stage. 

The guardsmen’s eyebrows shot up when you’d straightened yourself.

“I’ll marry the sorry bastard.” 

“Are you sure? He’ll most likely rob you and run off. He’s better off dead.” 

“I have business with this one,” you informed him, snapping your fingers. “Come on then. Let’s get this over with.” 

The guardsman shrugged and jerked the noose off of his neck, a little disappointed. The crowd wasn’t happy either, hurling insults along with their vegetables. 

“Quiet! Quiet!” the guardsman shouted after shoving Saber forward for the “ceremony.”

He took a deep breath, jerking a notebook out of his pocket.

“Alright,” he began, snorting. “State your name for the record.” 

“(Y/N).”

“Lovely elven name,” he murmured as he jotted it down. “Now then, do you (Y/N) take this here, criminal, Saber Wintermaple to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

You gave him a sharp nod. 

“I do.” 

He swung a lazy eye at Saber. 

“Do you Saber Wintermaple, take this kind elf to be your betrothed?” 

He gave you a bright smile. 

“I do.” 

The guardsman snapped the book closed, shoving Saber towards you. 

“I hereby declare you two duly betrothed under the King’s law. This Orc is your problem now, citizen. You’d better keep him out of trouble, or you’ll be up here next to him!”

He handed you the thick rope looped around the binding, keeping Saber’s hands tied, and waved you two off. The audience, bored without bloodshed, had already started dispersing, making it easy for you to tug Saber towards the road leading to the forest. 

“I didn’t know I made such a pleasant impression,” Saber said cheerfully, following you out of town.

You whirled around and jammed a finger in his face. 

“I wouldn’t describe it as pleasant. You owe me a gold necklace! Give it back, or you can work off the coin you owe me!” 

He chuckled.

“I’m fresh out of coins, little elf.” 

He scratched his chin and looked up, thinking. 

“I’m pretty sure I lost that necklace in a game of dice.” 

He shrugged. 

“You lost my only possession of any value in a game of dice?” 

You scrubbed your hand over your face, counting back from ten so you didn’t explode.  

“Maybe I should have let you die.”

Frowning, you looked over him from toe to head. 

“At least you look strong enough. I’m sure I can find something useful for you to do!” 

You stopped where the two of you stood in the middle of the trail and pulled a small charm from your basket. 

“I was going to use this on my coin purse since there was a thief on the loose, but it’s probably better applied to you!” 

You looped the charm around his neck, closing your eyes to whisper the spell. A gust of spirit wind, fluffed your hair as the magic twirled around Saber. When you opened your eyes again, there was a blue thread linking the two of you that only you could see. 

“What was that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on you. 

“It’s a binding spell, so you can’t run off with my stuff again,” you explained.

His eyebrows jumped, and he tugged at the little talisman around his neck. 

“It won’t come off.” 

You nodded proudly. 

“Exactly.”

He took a moment to examine you carefully, tapping his chin again. 

“Interesting,” he murmured.  

“What? What does that mean?” 

He smiled and shrugged.

“Lead the way, spouse.” 

You sighed, turning and pulling him through the bumpy trail in the woods to your little home. When you’d fled your homeland to the Capital, you’d been lucky to find an abandoned cottage outside the city walls. It wasn’t massive, with only the basic living quarters, but it must have at some point belonged to someone’s Saber’s size, as the door and counters were much too high. You’d spent much of the money you earned selling charms and ointments, buying stools and ladders to reach things. 

“You poor thing,” Saber sighed as you passed through the magic barrier you’d cast to keep your home hidden from bandits.

“You don’t need to patronize me,” you huffed. “You’re the one almost hanged and run out of town.” 

He ignored you, looking around. 

“I feel kind of bad for stealing your necklace now that I’ve seen where you live. This place is a mess.” 

You examined your home, trying to see it through his eyes. Every available surface was covered in books, alchemy equipment, or ingredients. Even the chairs were covered in cast-off scrolls, books, or charms. 

“It’d be nice to have a workshop,” you admitted. “But that’s much too expensive.”

You straightened your slumping shoulders and lifted your chin. 

“No matter, you won’t be spending much time sitting down. I’ve got loads of things that need doing.” 

He gave you a sharp nod and held out his hands. 

“You’ll have to untie me if you want me to work.” 

Pulling a small blade from your basket, you sawed through the thick binding. Free to move as he pleased, he wrung his stiff wrists as he perused your living room. Occasionally he would pick something up, then put it down again, finally crouching to examine a bucket filled with water. 

“What are you doing?” 

He peered up at the leak in the roof that was letting rainwater drip through. 

“This needs fixing, or the roof will rot out.”

Pushing off of his knees, he turned to you. 

“How long have you been living alone?” 

You blushed, embarrassed. 

“I dunno, my whole life, I guess. The elven town where I came from didn’t have an orphanage or anything, so when I was old enough, I took off toward the capital. It took a while to get here…but here I am. I thought there would be more…I don’t know…opportunity here.” 

“How has that worked out for you? Living in a house clearly not meant for you and marrying a man on the gallows.” 

You gave him an indignant snuff. 

“At least I’m not a thief!” 

He chuckled, leaning against a bookshelf, rolling a gold coin on his knuckles. Your eyes narrowed on it, and you reached in your pocket to find you’d been relieved of your day’s earnings. 

“Hey! You stole that!” 

He laughed, revealing straight white teeth, and jingled the other coins in his pocket. 

“Don’t worry, I can’t get away with it, right?” 

You sucked in a deep annoyed breath. 

“I have things to do. Make yourself useful and chop some wood. It’s going to be cold when the sun sets.” 

“Whatever you say, spouse,” he replied, giving you a sarcastic salute as you dropped your basket and hurried to the kitchen to get started on dinner. 

What had you been thinking marrying a criminal? You paused for a moment, eyes growing misty. You didn’t really think he still had your necklace, did you? You let out a sigh just short of a sob. Were you really that lonely? Maybe it hurt that he’d been so kind to you, just to trick you. You should have been happy to see him hanged, yet the lingering magic that followed all elves had whispered that you ought to save him. 

But why? You weren’t in any position to support a husband. Though you’d instructed yourself on the knowledge of various potions and charms, you weren’t the only one. The city was teaming with Academy-bred alchemists who far surpassed your skill. They had access to rare ingredients and an army of assistants. You had to scrape out a living selling your wares far cheaper than the competition even to get noticed at the market. Hustling day to day, you certainly didn’t have the time or money to pretty yourself up to find a partner. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you grumbled, returning to chopping tubers for soup. 

A thick THWACK, drew your eyes out the kitchen window to Saber splitting logs across the lawn. He’d divested himself of his ratty shirt, and every thick muscle was on display as he lifted the ax over his head and dropped it down again. The logs felt apart like they were nothing more than twigs under his might. 

Your eye focused on the dark, wet slashes across his shoulder blades where his jailors had beaten him. He must have felt your eyes on him because he glanced up and waved. Blushing, you hurriedly pulled the curtains, returning to your task. 

Unable to get his injuries out of your mind, you felt bad for making him chop wood while he was hurt. When you’d plopped the tubers into your cooking pot, you gathered up some healing and numbing salves, making your way out the door. 

“Need something?” he asked, looking up from his task. 

“Sit down,” you barked. 

A thick eyebrow rose, and he tipped his head. 

“Why? Planning on lobbing my head off?” 

You wrinkled your nose at him. 

“No, of course not! You’re massive. How would I even go about burying your body? I can’t have a rotting corpse stinking up the place. Just sit!” 

He leaned his axe against the stump he was using to brace the wood and sat down on it. You dug in your basket, pulling out some cleanser to clean the wounds. Beside the big ugly gashes, Saber’s skin was a smooth, pretty green, the planes of his muscles sharp and defined. The first brush of your hand on his back made him jump. 

“S-sorry,” you muttered.

“‘Ts fine. Just not used to people touching me. Go on.” 

You spread the thick gel you used carefully over each angry line. 

“What do you mean? You’ve never had a partner before me?” 

He paused for a moment before he jerked his head. 

“I had a girlfriend once, but she left me.” 

“Why?” 

“Some noble offered her his hand and well…I couldn’t compete.”

He sighed. 

“She was happy to keep me on as her side piece, but I’ve got too much of an ego to be someone’s toy.” 

Your eyebrows jumped at his candor, but you just hummed, plastering clean wraps to his skin so the wounds could heal. His skin was warm under your fingers, making the tips tingle. When you were done, you found yourself tipping forward on your toes to peck the back of his neck. When you’d realized what you’d done, your ears burned, and you coughed loudly. 

“Sorry, ah…sorry,” you muttered, unsure what to say. “You’re…ah…going to have to sleep on your stomach, so you don’t make these worse.” 

He swiveled around to look at you, smiling. 

“Thanks, doc!”

“I’m not a doctor.” 

He shrugged. 

“What’s the difference?” 

“Ten years of special-”

You shook your head, realizing he was teasing you.

“I think that’s enough wood for tonight. Come inside. Dinner’s almost ready.” 

He grinned at you, his stomach grumbling, as he scooped up some of the wood he’d cut and tucked it under one arm. You wondered how much they let him eat in prison, worried he was starving. 

“What’d my sweet little spouse cook for me?” he asked. 

“Just some sweet potato soup. It’s not gourmet.” 

He frowned. 

“No meat?” 

You blinked at him. 

“You have all the money I made today in your pocket. How can I afford meat with those few coins?” 

He nodded, appearing to be thinking through the problem thoroughly. 

When you returned inside, you dipped the two of you bowls of soup, filling his twice as much as yours. You assured yourself it was because he couldn’t work without proper nutrition, not because you liked him. 

“So how far does this magic thingie let me go?” he asked as you sat down at the table. 

“Why, trying to run off?” 

He smirked. 

“No, why would I want to run away from you?” 

He chewed on a big spoonful of sweet potatoes before he continued. 

“I’ve got a cute little spouse who makes me dinner and kisses my cuts.” 

Your cheeks blew up in flames, and you choked on a mouthful of soup. You tried to retain your composure by quickly wiping your mouth with a napkin. 

“A couple of miles in any direction.” 

“Wow, didn’t think you’d give me such a long leash.” 

You shrugged. 

“I can’t be right at your side every minute.” 

He gave you the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. 

“You don’t want me by your side every minute of the day?” 

Unsure if he was joking or not, you jerked your spoon at his soup. 

“Let’s…stop talking for a while. Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” 

While the two of you ate quietly, you did your best to keep your eyes on your bowl. Every time you happened to glance up, he was watching you with an odd smile on his face. Almost like satisfaction. 

You were relieved when you finally finished and could turn your back on him to rinse the dishes. 

“You can take the bed if you want,” you called over your shoulder as you stood on your tip toes to return the bowls to the cabinet. As your arm stretched, Saber appeared behind you, plucking the dishes out of your hand and easily placing them where they were supposed to go. 

“Where are you going to sleep?” he asked, extending a hand to help you off of the little ladder you were perched on. 

“There’s a couch in the living room.” 

He wrinkled his nose. 

“It’s covered in stuff.” 

You shrugged, trying to hurry past him. 

“I’ll clean it up.”

You found your feet swinging in the air as he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” 

“My spouse is not sleeping on the sofa. I never thought I’d have a spouse, so I’ve got to take proper care of you.” 

He patted your butt for emphasis. 

“Are you crazy?” you snapped, only not banging on his back with your fists because he was injured. “We can’t sleep together! We just met!” 

Your body bounced on his shoulder as he chuckled. 

“You weren’t concerned with that when you insisted on marrying me!” 

“They were going to kill you!” 

He flopped you down on your bed, caging you in with his big arms. His head dipped to drag the tip of his nose along the length of your neck. 

“So you do like me!” he whispered into your skin. 

“I do not,” you huffed, pushing his chest.

Though your muscles did nothing to move him, he rose so you could scoot out across the bed. You quickly scrambled into the bathroom to change into your pajamas. 

When you came back out, Saber was slipping off his pants. 

“What are you doing now?” You gasped, cheeks heating at the sight of the thick shaft hanging between his legs.  

He glanced up, a slight smirk on his face as he folded his clothes. 

“I can't sleep in these prison clothes. I'll get the sheets all dirty!” 

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. He was right. He was filthy from sleeping on dirty straw in prison. 

“Come on,” you said, flicking two fingers at him. “You need a bath. You’re probably covered in fleas! 

Fortunately, your house came equipped with one large enough to fit Saber’s big body. With a flick of your fingers, the tub was filled, and with a few whispers of a spell, the water was hot. 

“Get in,” you said. 

Making himself comfortable, he looked back at you over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. 

“You tryin’ to watch? Naughty little elf!” 

You let out a long sigh. 

“No, I’m just going to ensure you don’t get your bandages wet, or it will all have been a waste. Supplies are expensive,” you huffed, picking up the sponge. “Now, sit still!”

Saber smirked but let you lift each of his arms as you scrubbed him. 

“So how did your old girlfriend take it when you decided you wouldn’t be your affair partner?”

He glanced at you, eyes ever thoughtful. His long look brought heat to your cheeks. 

“Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” 

He shrugged, his jaw tightening. 

“She was rather smug. She spent her whole life wishing to elevate herself.” 

A long sigh slipped past his lips. 

“I could never make her happy. I lied, cheated, stole; whatever I could do…but she looked down her nose at all of it.”

Your mouth fell open. 

“I’m…I’m sorry. You don’t have to…”

He waved a thick hand, his warm palm gently landing on your head and lightly ruffling your hair. 

“Think nothing of it. It’s kind of nice to get it off my chest.” 

“So that’s why you're a crook? To make her happy?”

He smirked. 

“I was a crook. Now I’m a married man. I can’t get into trouble. I have a spouse who relies on me.” 

He pinched your chin. 

“Prison was difficult enough without knowing I was missing out on such a cute little face. Now, it would crush me.” 

Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you jerked your head away, grabbing the nearest towel and tossing it to him. 

“Careful, don’t jostle your bandages,” you wheezed before making your escape. “Whoever lived here before left some clothes in the chest by the door. They ought to fit.” 

You were so busy slowing your beating heart that you blew out the lantern and slid into your bed without thinking Saber would soon follow. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to feign sleep, when you heard his heavy footsteps approach. He paused for a moment, doing Goddess knows what, before he carefully laid down next to you. 

The mattress dipped under his weight, and your body slid into his. You heard him draw in a sharp breath as your warm forms pressed together. 

“Mind your wounds. Make sure you sleep on your side,” you whispered into the darkness. 

You felt him adjust slightly, and then a heavy arm draped over your waist. Despite yourself, it was warm and the weight felt nice. Comforting. Now that he’d used your soap, he smelled like home. His breath brushed the hairs on your neck and another arm slid underneath you to use as a pillow. You would have pulled away, but you’d never slept so close to someone before. 

Living on the street for most of your life, left you with scars. You didn’t realize how deep they’d cut you until Saber’s large body curled around yours. You felt safe. 

When you woke the next morning, the bed next to you was empty. Your heart thumped heavily in your chest, wondering where he’d gone. Had it all been a dream? 

The pile of dirty prison clothes folded and placed on top of a chest proved that it had not. 

Breathing slowly, in the meditation you’d taught yourself, you stretched your awareness out, reaching for the blue thread. Saber was half a mile from you. You wondered what he could possibly be doing. 

“Orc things, probably,” you muttered, making your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up. 

It wasn’t like he could run off; there was nothing in that direction but trees. Through the window, you could see the sun up over the tree line, telling you that you’d slept much later than usual. 

Usually, you’d have left at sunrise to sell your wares in the Capital market, but it was far too late now. Instead, you grabbed an apple from the kitchen and started fussing with your alchemy materials. Now that Saber was living with you, you were sure you needed to straighten up so he didn’t break something. 

Walking across the room, you automatically skipped around the bucket on the floor; only the bucket was gone. You frowned, but looking at the ceiling, someone had replaced one of the boards with a fresh one. Had Saber done that while you were sleeping? 

You huffed, returning to straightening your books. At least he’s putting himself to work. 

You were trying to remember the order in which a pair of books written in ancient elven were arranged alphabetically when the bell above your door jingled. 

Since your home was hidden with magic, the bell told you someone was nearby. It was a charm you rarely used. No one had any reason to look for you. The most it had rung was when you ordered a special cauldron or tomb and happened to have the cash to have it delivered. 

Curious if a traveler was lost, you put your books down and wandered outside. 

“Morning, spouse!” 

Saber’s voice made you jump when he appeared hauling a deer on his shoulders. 

“What’s that?” 

He shrugged the creature off of his shoulders. 

“Meat!” he announced proudly. 

You nodded at him, your eyes catching on his bare chest, glazed with a sheen of sweat. 

“Where are you off to?” he asked. 

“Someone is here,” you murmured, forcing your gaze from the sharp planes of his muscles to continue down the path. 

A shadow draped over you, and you glanced up to see him looming. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m going with you. It could be someone dangerous.” 

You shook your head but continued on your way with him in tow. 

“Helloooo? Helllloooo?” 

A female voice was screaming through the trees. When you rounded the bend, your eyes landed on an expensive carriage and a beautiful fairy shouting at the top of her lungs.  Her pink hair fell in glittering curls around her shoulders, and matching wings emerged from her back.

“Damn it! Saber! Where the fuck are you?” 

“Can I help you?” you asked as you stepped through your magic barrier. 

Her eyes narrowed, but not on you. She looked directly behind you. 

“Saber! There you are!” 

She grinned, fluttering her winds and flying past you. Irritation immediately pricked your heart as the woman threw her arms around him. Turning around, you found him looking at her with wide eyes. 

“Melody…what are you doing here? How did you find me?” 

“I’m here to see you, of course. I heard you were going to be hung, but an elf saved you! I asked around the market and was told you’d been taken here. I was so worried!” 

When she cupped his chin with her delicate hand, you crossed your arms, eyes narrowing. 

“Not someone. Me.” you interjected. 

You marched towards Saber and grabbed him by the arm. 

“Saber is my husband. Who are you?” 

She wrinkled her nose at you, ignoring your question. Her hand slid down Saber’s chest despite you. 

“Is there someplace we can talk? Privately?” 

Saber’s shocked face tightened. 

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate ask in front of my spouse, Melody.” 

She scoffed. 

“You’ve been married…what? 8 hours? Saber, I think I more than deserve a little of your time. Especially as the mother of your child.” 

Your jaw dropped, and your hand pulled away from Saber. It was true, you’d only known him for a few hours, but a child was something he ought to have mentioned. 

His brow drew, looking between you and her. 

“What child?” 

She huffed, frowning at you. 

“Fine…If you must do this, this way.” 

She turned to the carriage and yelled. 

“Nora, bring the baby!” 

A maid climbed out of the carriage holding a small whimpering bundle. You gasped as the woman presented Saber with a little green newborn. 

Saber’s eyes popped, his mouth opening and closing as the maid pressed the child into his hands. 

“This…he…is mine?” 

Melody nodded. 

“Yes, and it’s time for you to take responsibility.” 

He glanced up at her. 

“You want to get back together?” 

She let out a cruel but trilling laugh. 

“Oh heavens no. I need you to take him. Dante hasn’t seen him yet. He thinks I’ve delivered his child. I had the maids tell him I was recovering for the past month so I could sneak him out. If he finds out I’ve been carrying your baby this whole time, he’ll throw me out on the street!” 

Anger roiled under your skin. 

“So what baby are you going to present to him?” you demanded. 

She snorted as if that were a foolish question. 

“I’ll get a baby from the slums. Plenty of mothers would happily give their child the life of a Lord’s son without question.”

She fluttered her iridescent wings. 

“It only need be a fairy child.” 

You could see the pain and confusion settle on Saber’s face. Stepping between the two of them, you gently pried the bundle out of Saber’s hands, looking at his cute little button nose and glossy baby curls. 

“Of course, we will take him, but on one condition.” 

She glanced at you. 

“What do you want? Money?”

You let out a tight chuff. 

“No. We never want to see you again. If he is our baby, he is ours. Don’t think you can change your mind and come running back here looking for him or Saber. The second you step foot in your carriage, this child and my husband are dead to you.” 

Her eyes jerked to Saber. 

“Saber. You can’t mean that. Of course, I want to see you…Dante, however, can’t know. You understand, don't you? This is everything we've dreamed about! You ought to support me!"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"I grew up in the gutter, too," you hissed. "But I'd never treat someone the way you have treated my husband. He is too good for you and I won't tolerate you buzzing around us like a nasty fly."

She glared at you.

"He's my child! You're just jealous Saber and I have history!"

Saber's jaw locked, and he put his arm around you, giving her a disgusted grimace. 

“Have you named him?” he asked. 

She looked contrite but lifted her chin. 

“I…ah…it didn’t occur to me...” 

He nodded and glanced down at you, holding his child. 

“Then…I agree with (Y/N). You’ll never know his name. You’ll never see him grow. You’ll never return to ruin our peace.” 

“But Saber-” 

“Don’t say my husband’s name, either.” you snapped. “You thought you’d come here and drop all of your responsibilities in his lap and then keep stringing him along as a toy? It’s not going to work like that. You have your family, and we have ours.” 

You jerked your chin at her. 

“Make your choice. Either leave the child or be prepared to explain to your husband who he belongs to. Those are the only options.”

Her pretty face contorted into an ugly, wrinkled mask, and she lifted her skirt to turn on her heels. 

“Fine! It’s not like I want the child of a thief anyway!”  

Snapping at her maid, she hovered back to her carriage, and they disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust. You smiled down at the little baby, who’d managed to sleep through the drama. 

“Saber, I know I shouldn’t have spoken for you…I just- He deserves better than to grow up with the knowledge his mother believes him to be less than. Can you imagine him living as her secret? Sneaking around to hide him? If she passed him in the street, she’d ignore him to preserve her status. He’d be heartbroken. I won’t let that happen. I hope I didn’t overstep, but I’m not sorry for it.” 

He dropped to his knees, eyes wet, and pushed his head into your shoulder. His big arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tight.

“You said just the right thing,” he murmured, then turned his head to look at his son. “What should we name him?” 

You smiled at him. 

“Let’s talk it over over lunch.” 

The two of you walked back down the path together, both having a hard time keeping your gaze off the baby. He wriggled in his sleep, making you both see hearts.

“Maybe we should move,” you murmured. “Just to be sure…and to give him a fresh start.” 

He looked down at you. 

“You won’t miss this place?” 

You sighed. 

“No…this is just a house. We have a family now. He should grow up in a happy little town, not the capital…we’ll have to save for a few months, but I think we can do it.” 

“We don’t have to save. I have plenty of money.” 

You froze in your tracks, looking up at him.

“What? I thought you said you were broke?” 

He smiled down at you. 

“I meant I didn't have any coin on me. I didn’t just piss all of my ill-gotten gains away. I hid them. Follow me.” 

He tugged the two of you into the forest, walking quite a ways until you reached an oddly placed rock. Saber crouched down and uprooted a bush with a stiff jerk. Then he cleared the soil away, revealing a wooden chest. He turned the little dial a few ways until it clicked, and the chest opened with a creak. Your eyes widened at the hundreds of gold coins piled inside. He casually tugged the gold he’d lifted from you out of his pocket and tossed it inside with a metallic clink. 

“I think we can buy a nice place with this.” 

You were still completely confused. He rummaged around in the coins, producing the gold necklace he’d stolen. Standing, he fastened it around your neck with the nimble fingers of a thief.

“I thought you lost it gambling?” 

He shrugged. 

“I lied.” 

“Why did you keep it?” 

He gave you a long look.

“I’m not sure, to be honest. Something told me not to sell it.” 

“But…what about the rest? I thought you gave it all to Melody?” 

“I tried to…we grew up in the capital, in the same slums she wants to buy a baby from. It wasn’t ever about what I could provide her. She wanted to erase her past. She wanted a title…to be a lady, to be able to lift her nose at the very people she grew up with.

I started saving after she failed at her first attempt at seducing some highborn. At the time, I had this romantic dream that I could surprise her with a big house, start a business, and be the Lord she wanted so badly…but… as time passed, I realized I was already tainted in her eyes. She wanted the right blood attached to her money. It took me too long to be ready to pull away. Dante was the nail in the coffin, so to speak.” 

He tugged the chest from the ground, hauling it onto his shoulder before leading you back through the forest.  

“Even though I knew I wasn’t enough…I foolishly still loved her. I was a mess when he proposed. That’s why I got caught. I went on a bender that lasted most of a year…Fortunately, I never touched this. Maybe I held out hope since Melody still entertained my attention…but I got sloppy and ended up in jail.” 

His gaze dropped to the baby. 

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn't have ever known about him. Anything could have happened to him if you hadn’t-”

He choked a bit, a couple of tears slipping down his cheek. You didn’t push him to finish his sentence. You knew what he was trying to say. 

“What about Arel?” you asked. 

“Arel? That sounds like an Elvin name.” 

You smiled at the little baby’s chubby cheeks. 

“It is…it means ‘treasure’.” 

He stopped, bending down to examine his son more closely. The baby’s eyes opened, and you saw that they were the same pretty chartreuse as his father’s. The two of them looked at one another in awe. 

“I like Arel,” he said, brushing a thick finger over his cheek. 

Arel’s big eyes grew wet, and he started to croon. 

Shock and worry bloomed on Saber’s face. 

“Is he okay?” 

“I think he’s hungry. I have some goat milk at home.” 

Saber straightened, and you had to almost jog to keep up with him, the two of you hurrying home to start your life as a family.

#orc fluff #orc husband #x reader #orc x reader #elf #monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster x reader #sweet asks #monster fluff #fantasy fluff #fantasy romance #fantasy #x gn reder #orc x gn reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #fluff #elf fluff #orc fic #orc romance #my ocs <3 #monster lover #my ocs #my oc character #original character #sfw monster fluff #sfw romance #sfw fluff

[justmeinadaze]

Don't Be So Hard (Steddie X Plus Size You)

"Don't be so hard on yourself The name of the game is humiliation, And thanks for your admiration. I never thought I'd say this: The way that we play has its confrontation, And guilt by association."

A/N: New version of these beings for me to try out. Thank you @bimbobaggins69 for the idea by just being amazing <3.

This take place 10 years after events in season 4 so about 1996.

Warnings: Older Dom (30s) Coach Steve Harrington/Older Dom (30s) Professor Eddie Munson & Young (20s) Fem Plus size Sub Student Y/N (whew! That's a mouth full lol), SMUT, spanking, choking, degrading, voyeurism, use of sir, FLUFF, Eddie and Steve have an established relationship. ANGST (because I'm me), reader is plus size and gets name called by the jocks (they call her names like piggy), one of them does assault her (pushes her and yells at her; brief), Steddie saves the day, mentions of reader staring in a play that makes her anxious due to her body.

This whole dynamic is technically angsty (which is why I love it muahaha).

Word Count: 8679

“I fucking hate schools.”, you grumble under your breath as you hit snooze on your alarm for the fifth time that morning. The beginning of your junior year spring semester at Hawkins University started today but the idea of getting out of bed sounded exhausting. In Hawkins, everyone was in everyone else’s business and being the bigger girl some of the jocks felt the need to butt in more than anyone else. 

“Hey Y/N. Did you put on more weight this summer? Those jeans look like they’re about to pop!”

“Should you be eating that, piggy? Maybe try a salad every now and then.”

You thought when you left high school, you wouldn’t have to deal with this crap anymore but unfortunately some of it followed you to college. 

When you finally made it to your first class it was right before it began so you could avoid any unwanted conversation. You weren’t so lucky.

“Heeeeeeey, Y/N.”, football star Martin Click cooed obnoxiously as he leaned towards you from his seat above yours. “I was hoping we’d have some classes together, piggy. I missed you over the summer. You couldn’t bother to dress up for me?”

“Oh, sorry Martin, if I had known we would be sharing a class I would have made myself uglier but unfortunately for me that’s impossible since I’m so fucking sexy. Maybe you can tutor me on how to be a sloppy asshole.”

The breathy laugh that echoed to your ears caught you off guard as you glanced up towards the front of the classroom and met the chocolate eyes of your new Literature & Writing professor. 

“I’m sorry.”, you whisper as red paints your face.

“No, no. No reason to be sorry. I thought it was a good comeback.”, he grinned making you blush even more. “Mr. Click, should I tell Coach Harrington that you’re more focused on ladies attire than my class or are we going to behave this semester?”

Rolling his eyes, Martin leaned back in his chair making the professor smugly smirk as he winked in your direction. 

“As I’m sure ya’ll are aware, I’m professor Munson and if you’re here because of my reputation then I will kindly ask you to leave. I’m not here to talk about my past or my family history.”

You had heard rumors about Eddie Munson and of course knew all about him being on the run back when you were little. You parents never let you leave the house or play outside for fear that the “satanic Hawkins killer” would snatch you up and make you his next victim. As you grew up and read more about what happened, it seemed less to you like he did anything at all and obviously the chief agreed because Mr. Munson was never tried or did any prison time. 

No, you weren’t interested in his past. You were interested in the things he could teach you. After overhearing one of his lectures, you were fascinated with the way he told a story and explained the material. He got so animated to an adorable degree and as a theater major you thought it would be fun to see how he interpreted literature while getting the final English credit you needed. 

When no one moved he smiled and began talking about usual first day things such as the syllabus and what to expect over the semester. After the class had ended and everyone left, you stayed behind and quietly made your way to his desk. 

“Hey, um, I’m sorry if I was rude or—”

“I didn’t think you were rude. If anything, he was and definitely needed to be put in his place.”, he interrupted without looking your way as he sorted through papers in front of him. “You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yes, sir. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen some of the plays you were in on campus here. I dragged my friend to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream and you actually got him to pay attention.”, Mr. Munson smiled as he finally lifted his head to look your way. “You were very good.”

“Oh, um, thank you very much. That means a lot coming from you.” He tilts his head at your comment as blush fills your cheeks again. “I just meant I’ve seen some of your lectures before and you’re an amazing storyteller. You excite me, I mean you make me want to pay attention to, I mean… ok, let’s pretend I just left right after class and didn’t just embarrass myself.”

Hugging your books to your chest, you power walk out the door as his chuckle fills your ears. 

***

With a break between periods, you hastily headed for the gym after lunch to change and get out on to the track by the field. Contrary to popular belief, you were fairly athletic despite your size and enjoyed letting off steam as you pumped your legs as fast as they could take you.

As your music blared loudly in your ears, the feeling of eyes watching you grabbed your attention towards the bleachers where Coach Harrington was standing with his arms crossed and leaning to the side as Professor Munson balanced his arm on his shoulder, murmuring something to him as their eyes followed you. 

Trying to block them out, you continued to focus on the path in front of you but was blindsided when a football whizzed past your nose almost hitting you.

“Whoa! Sorry, piggy. Have to keep your eyes open around here.”, Martin laughs as you roll your eyes. 

Glancing their way, you noticed both men were standing straighter as if prepared to defend you if needed. You weren’t a weak little girl and for whatever reason you strongly felt like you needed to show them that. As you pick up the football one of the players lifts his hands running towards you as if expecting you to not be able to throw it but at the last minute you throw a perfect spiral to their coach who doesn’t even hesitate as he lifts his hands and catches it seamlessly from the air. 

“Well, shit, gentlemen. Looks like I have a new passer.”

“Oh, no thank you, Coach Harrington. If I ever played a sport it would be with a team that doesn’t suck.”

Again, Mr. Munson snicked through his teeth as the man he was leaning on flashed you a big grin. 

#############

That night you decided to run after hours, thinking you would be alone but were surprised when you saw Coach Harrington on the track. 

“Shit! Sorry, you scared the hell out of me.”, he nervously chuckled. 

“I’M sorry. I thought no one would be out here.”

“Yeah, normally there aren’t.”, he teased raising an eyebrow at you. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”

As he took off continuing to jog, you pushed your headphones on your head and started your run. After a couple of laps with you in your zone, your feet abruptly slipped out from under you as you tumbled forward onto the gravel.

“Whoa!”, Coach Harrington shouted in concern as he ran to your side and kneeled down. “Are you alright?”

“Ow. Yeah, I just…tripped. Fuck that hurt.”

“Let me see.” Without any hesitation, his hand gripped your leg and looked it over. “Oof, you may have a pretty good bruise there but you should be alright.” Rising to his feet, he extended his hand to you to help you up which you eagerly accepted while he gripped you tightly and led you towards the bleachers. “You must have been deep in thought because you passed me a couple of times and didn’t even turn your head.”

“I did? Yeah, I’m sorry. I just have some things on my mind.”

“No, I know what you mean. Eddie—Professor Munson told me what happened in his class. If any of those guys bother you again, please let me know. I’ll make them run laps or even sit them out of a game if I have to. Nothing scares these kids more than not being able to play.”

You knew of Steve Harrington mostly because of his parents. The Harrington’s were prominent members of the community and very well respected. In your high school there had been pictures of him from his days on the basketball and swim team when he was a student. 

After he graduated, other rumors began to circulate about him spending time with the “freaks of Hawkins” but who cares. Not you especially since you had been labeled a freak since elementary. 

“I, um, I hope you didn’t take offense to what I said. Your team doesn’t suck just…some of your players. I mean, not their playing ability just their personalities. FUCK, why can’t I talk today?”

His smile widens as he laughs from his gut making you don your own smile. 

Coach Harrington’s eyes meet yours for a moment before a controlled laugh escapes his lips.

“What, um, what were you listening to so loud that you didn’t hear me yelling for you to slow down?”

Giggling, you gesture towards your Walkman. 

“Just some CD I burned to get me pumped. Right now, it’s playing ‘Master of Puppets’ by Metallica. Have you heard that song?”  

Something dark flashes over his face before he awkwardly nods and gets up leaving you alone on the bleachers as you stare after him. 

***

“Are you fucking kidding me?”, you growl as you push on the girl’s locker room door to find it locked. “What is going on with me this semester?”

Glancing around and seeing no one, you brave the boy’s locker room, finding it open, assuming that in his weird state, maybe, Mr. Harrington forgot to lock up. As quickly as you could you showered and began to change into some comfy clothes. 

The sound of something hitting the wall nearby froze you in fear as you gaze scanned the area. 

No one nearby. It could be the janitor cleaning the coach’s office.

Quietly, you threw your things over your shoulder and tiptoed that way with the intention of ducking under the window of the area so you weren’t seen but the muffled sound of moaning had you pausing again. 

“Mmm…Steve…Steven. Wh-What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”

“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”

“Hey. Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s ok. I’m ok. I’m right here, Steve. You saved me.”

Peeking through the window, you saw their forehead’s pressed together as Eddie gently caressed his cheek with his thumbs. A small sigh left your lips when they began to kiss each other again. With a bit of needy force, Steve turned him around and pulled his back flush to his chest. Gently nibbling on his neck, he reached around and unbuckled Eddie’s pants, pushing them down to free his cock that he promptly began stroking. 

Fuck me he’s big. 

You practically drooled at the sight, licking your lips as your palm absently glided under your shirt to rub your tummy.

With his free hand, Steve sloppily yanked down his sweats making you moan as you watched him spit in his palm and rub it between Eddie’s cheeks before gradually guiding himself into his entrance. 

“Fuck, Steve. That’s it, baby.”

Clinging to each other tightly, Steve thrust his hips at a steady rhythm and you marveled at the sight as your fingers drifted into your own sweatpants and you began circling your clit.

“H-Harder, Steve, please.”

“Please.”, you whisper as you try to keep your eyes open and on them. 

“Like this, honey? Fuck you feel so good, Eddie. I love you.”

Arching his back, your professor craned his neck to kiss the man’s lips as he pumped into him as hard as he could without hurting him. 

“I love you to, baby. Shit, I’m going to cum. Cum with me, Steve.”

Nodding aggressively, he chased their highs until both men grunted and came. While they softly kissed each other your body trembled as you covered your mouth, trying to stifle your moans as the coil snapped. It wasn’t enough as both their heads turned meeting your eyes as you were coming down from cloud 9. 

No one moved as the three of you stared each other. 

Holding up his hands in surrender, Steve pulled out as Eddie straightened up, worry painting both their faces. 

“Y/N…”

Before they could do anything else, you turned and quickly ran out of the locker room.

##############

What the fuck was I thinking?! I shouldn’t have watched them. Two teachers in the MALE locker room while I was touching myself. Shit. I’m going to be expelled for sure. 

Sitting on the stage of your theater class, you focused on the script in front of you as you prepared for an audition your professor recommended. Mrs. Lilah always felt constrained by Hawkins when it came to material but this year she quiet literally said fuck them and decided to do Rocky Horror Picture Show. 

As you read through your lines for Magenta, a clearing throat caught your attention. 

“Hey Eddie!”, your theater teacher beamed as she waved at him and he smiled back before jumping onto the stage to sit beside you. He smelled strongly like cigarettes and a dash of cologne that had your head spinning as you continued to keep your eyes on the paper in front of you. 

“Hey Lilah. I hope I’m not disturbing anything. I just need to talk to Y/N here about an assignment real quick.”

“No problem. She does have her audition for Janet in a few minutes and I’m dying to see her interpretation.”

That caught your attention as your head swiveled her way. 

“I’m doing what now?”

“For Janet, honey. I think you’d be perfect. She’s a bit timid at first but comes out of her shell.”

“But…but…she’s in a bra for a good chunk of the play.”

“Yeah…does that make you uncomfortable?”

“Hm, yeah, Y/N, does people seeing your body in the shadows in an intimate way make you uncomfortable?”, Eddie murmured low enough so only you could hear. 

“Let’s just do the audition and if you prove me right, we can talk about the wardrobe, ok?”

Flashing her a timid smile, you turn to give your attention to your professor. 

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? Skipping my class this morning? Oh, you mean when you watched me and my boyfriend have sex in the boy’s locker room?”

“The girl’s one was locked and I needed to shower—”

“That explains why you were in the locker room but not why you were there watching. Are you going to run and tell all your little friends about how you saw the murderous freak fucking the pretty, rich football coach?”

“What? No. I would never—”

“Mhmm. Look how much will it take to keep your mouth shut?”

“Nothing. I don’t—”

“Please, Y/N! Everyone has a price and Steve doesn’t deserve to lose all he’s worked hard for. So, tell me—”

“Will you let me talk!?” Glancing around to make sure no one heard your outburst; you lower your voice as you continue. “I don’t want anything or any money. I won’t tell anyone. I genuinely don’t care about your private lives. I’m really sorry I watched. I shouldn’t have…I just…”

Your professor’s eyes focused intently on you as he waited for you to continue. 

“I was attracted. The way you two kiss and the way he holds you…no one’s ever been that way with me…” When your eyes dared to finally meet his, you expected anger but those gorgeous chocolate irises displayed a softness you appreciated. “I swear, Mr. Munson, I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”

Nodding, he jumped down from the stage before turning to face you again. 

“I think under the circumstances you can call me Eddie. Not in class but… I also think you should play Janet. You’re a very beautiful young lady. Don’t let any of these superficial idiots take away that lead role from you just because of how you look.”

#############

A couple of weeks had passed and nothing of note happened with school or your classes. You were cast as Janet, allowing Eddie’s advice to drive you as you maneuvered the role. Your professor and Coach Harrington had minimal contact with you but you always felt their eyes following you around. 

Tonight, you were studying in the Hawkins diner off campus. You preferred it here then the library after hours because not only could you munch on some delicious food but no one was usually there that you knew. 

As the bell above the door dinged, you glanced up from the novel Eddie had you guys reading to see said professor and his boyfriend entering the establishment and taking a seat. You couldn’t help but wonder how hard being out like this must be for them. They couldn’t share a booth or be flirty. They couldn’t hold hands or kiss, at least not visibly where people could see. You hated that for them since both seemed like good men. You wondered why they stayed behind here in this terrible little conservative town instead of moving anywhere else. 

Hoping to slip out unnoticed and allow them privacy this time, you gathered your things and placed some money on the table. 

��Is that my favorite piggy?”

You roll your eyes at the sound of Martin’s voice as you try to ignore him and head out the door. A hand abruptly grabs you but you slap it away. 

“Don’t touch me.”, you hiss. 

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s Saturday and we just left an awesome party. Can’t you and I get along for once?!” His friends around the table behind him snickered as a big devilish smile stretched across his face. 

“If you weren’t such a fucking dick maybe. Now leave me alone.”

As you storm out the front door to your car, something tugs your backpack, ripping it open as all your books and papers tumble to floor. Martin’s hand wraps around your throat and pushes you against the trunk of your car. 

“You will show some fucking respect especially in front of my friends.”

“Aw, did little Martin get his feelings hurt?”, you sass. “Didn’t realize you had any.” 

Your knee rises as you hit him in his stomach but he’s still faster as his palm reaches out to grab your shirt tugging you down hard onto the pavement.

Abruptly, someone grabs his own jacket collar and tosses him roughly away from you as Eddie quickly maneuvers around them both, kneeling to your level. 

“Are you ok, sweetheart? Can you stand?” Silently nodding, you take the hand he offers to you and rise to your feet. He notices immediately that your blouse is torn and without hesitation shimmies out of his leather jacket and places it around your shoulders. 

“Mr. Click, on Monday, you will see me in my office.”, Coach Harrington growled as he glared at the boy. 

“Oh, fuck you! That fat little whore pushed me into it!”

“HEY!”, he bellowed making you jump as your teacher rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. “I would advise you to stop speaking. You’re already in a lot of trouble.”

“Pfft, you think I’m scared of you, Steve Harrington?! Yeah, my parents told me all about you and the disappointment you became to Hawkins. You’re fucking pathetic! I’m surprised they even hired you to coach us let alone your friend the freak! I guess those satanic rituals DO fucking work.”

The man’s body language stiffened before he did that controlled chuckle you had heard before. 

“Alright, Martin, we can do this right now then. I was only going to suspend you but you know, since I’m so fucking pathetic I think I’ll just go all in. You’re off my team.”

“WHAT?!”

Turning around, he ignored the boy’s continued expletives as he faced you both. 

“Eddie, get her books and all her things. We’ll take her back to our house, if that’s ok with you.”, he asked pointedly in your direction. All you could do was nod and try to bend down to get your thing but the metalhead stopped you before descending to the concrete to collect your things. 

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! YOU’LL REGRET THIS!”

“Take it up with the dean. Until then on Monday, I want your shit out of my locker room or else I will throw it in the garbage. Come on, guys.”

Coach Harrington opened the back seat door for you, startling you when he closed the door a bit too hard. 

***

When they parked outside of a home, neither moved as Eddie’s eyes scanned over his partner’s face.

“You ok, babe?”

His ringed fingers reached out to caress through his hair and in the rearview mirror you could see Steve close his eyes as he exhaled. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get inside.”, he answered curtly as he came around and opened your door and you followed both men inside. You stood in their living room silently as they threw their keys down and Eddie disappeared down a hallway. 

When he came back, he handed you a t-shirt that read “Def Leopard: Tour of 88!”

“Go put this on and we can see about fixing your own.”

His eyes followed you as you entered their bedroom where the bathroom was located and shut the door. Removing your blouse, you could see a slight bruise forming where the strap of your backpack had been on your shoulder and some redness around your neck where Martin had grabbed you. Swallowing your pain at the sight, you put on the shirt they provided and folded his jacket, placing it nicely on the countertop.

Your eyes took in their fairly average bathroom, smirking slightly at the hair gel you imagined was Steve’s as Eddie’s hair was always wild even during class when he pulled it back. Both their colognes and bathroom products were side by side like any couples but the few things you knew about them had each personality standing out. Cigarettes were by the window near the bathtub where you imagined Eddie smoked as they took a bath together. On the floor by the shower, were some handheld barbells you imagined Steve used while Eddie took a shower or got ready so they could talk to each other about their days. 

Walking back out to their bedroom, you noticed a guitar against the wall and grinned at its slightly cheesy 80s aesthetic. You remembered once hearing that Eddie Munson used to be in a band but for the life of you couldn’t remember the name. You wondered if he still played. 

“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”

What could he have meant by that…

Your gaze shifted to their dresser that had a vanity mirror attached with pictures taped to it. There were so many images of them together that made your smile widen but there were also photos of Steve with a young lady you remember seeing around Hawkins. She used to work at Family Video until a few years ago but you weren’t sure where she moved on to from there. Did you remember Steve there? No… you were pretty young though and focused on your own carefree life. 

There were pictures of Eddie with the Hellfire club. They were still active when you went to Hawkins High filled with a cool group of kids you hung out with from time to time. There were whispers of the man that created it but everyone in the club always said good things about the former Dungeon Master. 

They must have been in two different worlds in high school. 

What must have happened to bring them together?

“Steven, you need to calm down.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice caught your attention after something loud slammed in the kitchen. You tiptoed down their hallway and paused on the other side of the wall. 

“Fucking asshole kid, I swear to God.”

“Baby, it’s not the first time someone has said those things to us and it won’t be the last especially since we chose to stay here.”

“We didn’t exactly choose and that’s not why I’m upset.”

“Why then?”

“She…she seems like a nice girl.”

“She IS a nice girl.” Eddie sighs as he lowers his voice. “Steven, she’s a student and a lot younger than us.”

“Not a lot. Jesus, you make us sound ancient. She’s, what, how old you were when you graduated high school.”

“Hey, ok first off, rude.” They both giggle making you grin. “Second, again, she’s a student. She’s MY student. I could get in way more trouble than you.”

“Like that’s ever stopped you.”

“I swear, sweetheart, don’t we have enough chaos fucking hiding our relationship?”

“Oh, come on, Ed, you don’t like her?”

“I didn’t say that. I just… yeah, she’s beautiful and adorable and… fuck. We shouldn’t talk about this with her here.”

Collecting your bearings, you walk around the wall and knock on it lightly.

“Hey, there she is. I, uh, I fixed your backpack. Let me, um, see if I can salvage this top for you here.”, Eddie smiles as he takes it from your hands and heads for their couch. 

“I didn’t know you could sew.”

“Mhmm. I can’t like whip up a brand new outfit or anything but I can patch things together.”

“Are you alright? Do you need any Band-Aids or an ice pack?”, Steve asks from his place by the counter. 

“No, I’m ok. My throat is a bit sore but…” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s turning around and grabbing an ice pack from the freezer, wrapping it in a rag, and sitting in front of you on their coffee table to place it on your neck. “Thank you. I like being choked but not like that or by that asshole.”

They both glance at each other as you blush. 

“Yeah, probably not a joke to make right now. Sorry.”

“You apologize a lot.”, Eddie says from behind you. 

“Sorry.” They laugh making you grin to yourself as you look down at your feet. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble. I’m not…actively…trying to do that.”

“Oh, no worries, honey. Trust me. What is he going to say? ‘Coach Harrington kicked me off the team after I drunkenly assaulted a girl?’ I’m pretty sure the dean will side with me on that one.”

Your silence makes them nervous and they exchange another look. 

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?”

“I’m thinking about how I never expected Martin to do what he did. He’s been mean to me since freshman year but never aggressive like that.”

“You know that wasn’t your fault, right, princess?”

“Yeah, I know. I…I…” Unable to control them, the tears began to flow and a ring laced hand delicately reached for your shoulder, moving the things in his lap aside so he could hold you to his chest. Steve placed his own palm on your jeaned thigh and comfortingly rubbed against the material. 

Once again you were engulfed in the scent of Eddie’s cigarettes and cologne as his cheek rested on the top of your head. You couldn’t explain why but you felt safe here with their hands on you encased between them. 

It had been a few months since your last relationship and you could feel yourself dropping into that particular headspace the longer they comforted you. 

“I’m…I’m also thinking…about what I saw that night…in the locker room. How you two took care of each other…”

All movement on your body ceased as they even held their breathes. 

“H-How about we get you home, Y/N? I can give you this shirt after our next class.”

Eddie lightly pushed you to the side as he tried to stand but you hastily grabbed his arm stopping him. 

“I heard you. You said I was beautiful and sweet.”

As your little voice flowed through his ears, his eyes squeezed shut trying to keep control. 

“Y/N, maybe, he’s right. Maybe, we should get you home before—”

“Before what, Steve?” This was the first time you were using his name out loud and the notion sent tingles all through your body feeling like a little girl who misbehaved.

“Hey. You show him respect, little girl. That’s Mr. Harrington or sir.”, Eddie scolded in gruff tone.

“Edward…”

“No, Steven. Little girl wants to play with the grownups, then that’s how we will treat her. Now, we said, you’re going home. Grab your things and head towards the front door.”

“Why did you bring me back here, Mr. Munson? You could have taken me back to my dorm but you didn’t. Why?”

“Because people shouldn’t be seeing a professor drop off a student on campus.”

“But Steve said he was taking me to your house out loud to Martin.”

The man’s hand firmly came down on the side of your thigh making you yelp as you bit your bottom lip. 

“He said show me respect.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.” Placing your hand on top of his, your thumb tenderly ran along his skin as you leaned against Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Munson. Like I said…no one has ever taken care of me or looked out for me the way you two do with each other.”

You were slightly surprised when his fingers gently came around and brushed your hair away from your face. 

“We brought you back here because we thought you were safer with us here. After what he did, we thought that’s what you needed.”

“Am I not safe here?”, you whisper as you can’t help but rub your thighs together. 

“Y/N… Eddie and I have been through a lot. What you saw in my office isn’t always how we are when we’re intimate. We’re not always…soft.”

“But I promise you, princess, we are nothing like Martin. If you wanted to leave…right now…that’s ok. We can take you home or call you a cab if that makes you more comfortable.”

He was giving you an out; they both were. You could leave right now and the three of you could pretend this never happened. You could pretend that Steve’s large hand on your upper thigh wasn’t turning you on as you thought about how those long fingers would feel inside of you. You could pretend that Eddie’s touch wasn’t getting progressively slower as the pads of his own fingers traced your cheek making your pussy clench around nothing. You could pretend the notion of doing something you shouldn’t and being at the mercy of these two men’s wills didn’t drive you crazy. You could do that… 

Or…

“I don’t mind it not being soft, Mr. Harrington. I trust you and Mr. Munson.” Both men exchanged on final look of caution before your last sentence pushed caution to the wind. “Please, I need you.”

“I think since you saw us in vulnerable position we should get the same courtesy.”, Steve replied in a much huskier tone than before. Taking your hands in his, he pulled you to your feet and pushed the coffee table out of the way before taking the seat you had just been in. On impulse, Eddie leaned closer to him as the other boy wrapped his arm around his shoulder. 

“Go ahead, Y/N.”

As your eyes shifted between their heavy gazes, you lifted off the shirt he gave you, unbuttoned your pants, and shimmied them a bit clumsily down your legs.

You stood there waiting for more instruction as they continued to stare at your body. 

“Did you see our cocks?”

“Yes.”

Steve smirked as his boyfriend began to kiss his neck while his palm traveled along his chest down his stomach.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Remember that, Y/N. I don’t like repeating myself and Eddie is a lot nicer than I am in here.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered when the metalhead’s palm grazed the bulge in his jeans. 

“Now, if you saw or cocks, then why are you stopping?”

“You said…I should be vulnerable, sir.”

Your small voice had them groaning as Eddie fumbled with the pretty boy’s belt almost desperately. 

“Fuck. Don’t move.” He commanded towards you as his head turned to capture his boyfriend’s lips. Lifting his hips, he helped Eddie blindly pull his jeans down just enough to free his length. As he started to lean over his lap, Steve hastily stopped him with a smile. “You don’t want to see her, honey?”

He chuckled as he focused his attention back on you. 

“Do you feel vulnerable, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hm. Not enough to not finger yourself out in the open though, huh? I mean at least you had pants on.”

“I-I-I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking—”

“No, you weren’t. Take off the rest so we can see you.”

While doing what he said, you watched as Steve pushed down Eddie’s pants as well and both men kissed passionately in front of you as they stroked each other’s cocks. 

“Y/N, is there anything we should know? Anything we should avoid?”

“No, Mr. Munson.”, you answered, appreciating his soft tone as he asked his series of questions. 

“You said you liked being choked but is there anything physical we shouldn’t do?”, Eddie groaned out as Steve lifted off his shirt.

You heard his question but couldn’t form an answer as your eyes starred at the scars that littered his chest. They looked like whatever wound created them was deep, possibly life threatening. What could have happened to him?

“HEY!”, he barked making you jump. “He said he’s not as nice as me but that doesn’t mean I’m easy going! Now, answer the fucking question, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, sir. N-No, I don’t mind being hit or p-punished. Mr. Munson, what happened?”

As you started to step forward, both sets of brown eyes glared your way freezing you in place.

“Do you know the stop light system?”, Steve growled in a much rougher tone than you were prepared for. Nodding curtly after reciting it to them, he got up and grabbed your arm, sitting you between them. “Now, we do have some rules, Y/N. The first rule is the most important. DON’T ask about our scars.”

“Our?”

Steve slowly lifted off his own shirt and tossed it to the side. He didn’t have as many scars as Eddie but they were just as deep and looked similar. Whatever happened must have happened to both of them. 

“I’m so sorry you both went through…whatever hurt you.”, you coo as you reach out to graze your fingers down Eddie’s chest. 

The darkness in their eyes faltered slightly at your sincerity and the metalhead took your hand in his, tenderly kissing the back of it. 

“Second rule. You have to be vocal, Y/N. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, we need you to say red ok?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Munson. “

“Good. Good girl.”

His praise made you giddy as you blush making him smile.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I have one more question, princess. Have you ever done anything like this before?”

“Yes and no.”

“Yeah, we’re going to need you to clarify that.”, Steve laughs. 

“I’ve done rough stuff with dominate partners before. I’ve never been with two men before.”

The way you said the word men had Eddie’s eyebrow quirking upward. 

“Are you trying to tell us you’ve only been with boys your age?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did you feel the need to tell us that?”

“Do we make you nervous?”, Steve asks as his fingers dance up your arm. 

“Yes b-but not because of you two, Mr. Harrington. I just wanted you to know j-just in case I’m not as ‘experienced’ as you both.”

Eddie’s palms cupped your cheeks as he brought your lips to his. You weren’t surprised by the nicotine that lingered there but you were by the tingle that ran through your body as his tongue caressed your own. When he pulled away you tried to lean forward for more but his grip held firm. 

“We weren’t expecting you to be, pretty girl. You’ve only ever been with these little boys but you’re about to be fucked by real men, sweetheart. Trust us, we know how to take care of you.”

You moaned at his promise, turning towards Steve to crash your lips with his. He was a much more determined kisser, his mouth and tongue sending that same shock wave through to your core. 

“Have you ever sucked a cock as big as mine?”, he panted against your lips.

As you shake your head, his fingers grab your throat just below your jaw as if purposely avoiding where Martin had hurt you. 

“What did I say? How do you answer us?”

“I’m sorry. No, sir, I’ve never sucked a dick as big as either of you.”

Sitting back, his palm moved to the back of your neck, guiding you down over his leaking tip as Eddie adjusted your body till you were on all fours for them. 

“Fuck me, Steve. She is so fucking wet. Her pussy is just tripping down her thighs.”

“Aw, you like being a bad girl, don’t you, honey?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Harrington. I like being a bad girl.”

“Open your mouth.” Doing as he directed, you quickly kissed his slit making him mewl before fully taking him between your awaiting lips. “Yes, oh my god. T-That’s a good girl.”

Eddie’s fingers glided through your folds causing your eyes to roll as you bobbed your head.

“Steve, baby, Jesus, she’s so fucking tight.”, the metalhead groaned as his palm came down hard on your ass. 

“Yeah, Y/N? Did that feel good? You like when your professor spanks you?”

Yanking your hair roughly he tugs you off of him as you continue to stroke him with your hand. 

“I didn’t hear that, little girl. What did you say?”

“Y-Yes, sir, I like when Mr. Munson spanks me.” 

At your response he spanks you again right as he guides two of his digits into your core. Gripping you tighter, Steve forces your mouth on him again and holds you still as he thrusts his hips allowing his cock to hit the back of your throat. 

“Good girl. That’s it, Y/N. Keep your throat open for me.”

Abruptly, Eddie swats his boyfriend’s hand and tugs on your shoulder, guiding you down the hallway to their bedroom and tossing you onto their bed. After completely removing the rest of his clothes, he climbs between your legs and runs his wide, flat tongue through your pussy up to your clit. 

“Oh shit.”, you moan as your back arches into the feeling before yelping when his palm smacks your cunt. 

“Watch your mouth, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry.”

Steve chuckles as he climbs in beside you both placing his knees by your head as his fingers grip your hair again. 

“Can’t really blame her. I know how amazing your tongue feels. Then again, you may have some competition, babe, because her fucking mouth feels so good.”

Pride washes over you at his praise as you grip his cock and take him as far back as you can trying to continue to please him. 

“I-It’s ok, honey. We can train this little throat. As—fuck—as you know, Eddie’s a wonderful teacher.” His boyfriend tosses him a smirk as his tongue flicks faster against your bud. “Are you going to cum? Cum, Y/N. Cum all over his face.”

Your hips grinded against him as the man’s mouth wrapped around your bundle of nerves and he pushed two of his fingers rapidly inside of you as the sound of your arousal to fill the room. 

Steve backed away from you, allowing you to focus and breathe as your orgasm washed over you. As you came down from your high, Eddie lightly slapped between your legs making you jump and groan. 

“Sensitive. I like that.”

Tilting towards their bedside table, he paused as their eyes met. 

“Shit. I don’t have any condoms.”

“What?”, Steve almost wined as you tried to contain your smile at their desperate need for you.

“Steve, we’ve been together for almost 10 years. When was the last time we used a fucking condom?”, Eddie growled. 

“We’ve been talking about adding someone to our dynamic for a while now.”

“Yeah but I wasn’t prepared for it to be tonight with a fucking student!”

“Excuse me.”, you finally pipe up. “I’m on the pill. I can understand if you still don’t want to but…I’m safe. And like I said, I trust you.”

Both men exchange a glance and you can’t help but giggle up at them. 

“So how long were you going to wait before you said anything, huh?”

“Mr. Munson, you didn’t ask. I wanted to be a good girl and only speak when spoken to.”

They narrow their eyes playfully at you for a moment before Eddie grabs your jaw and tilts you till your face is level with his. 

“You’re not cute, little girl. That little snarky attitude may have worked on those pathetic boys you were with but you’re in the bed of real men now. Don’t hide things from us you think we should know. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-Yes, sir. I’m—”

Steve’s hand cuts you off as he pushes you back against the mattress. 

“We know. You’re sorry.”

Taking hold of his shaft, Eddie taps himself against your pussy making you squirm as you open your legs wider for him. Grabbing your hips, he slides you closer and gradually guides himself into your dripping entrance.

“Fuuuuuck.”, he moaned as he slowly pumped his hips. “We are going to fucking ruin you for anyone else, little girl. Goddamn.”

“How does she feel, baby?”, Steve asks as he leaned towards him to lightly kiss his neck.

“S-So fucking tight, sweetheart, you have no idea. I want…”

“What do you want, Ed?”

“I wanna…fuck her into the fucking mattress.”

Your pussy fluttered around him at his words and his eyes that been closed shot open as he placed his palms on either side of you and started thrusting into you aggressively.

“You want that, you little whore. I can give that to you.”

Much softer than his partner, Steve turned your head and slide his cock back into your mouth that you eagerly sucked on relishing the taste of him. As he pounded into you, Eddie’s lips kissed along his boyfriend’s chest making the man groan louder as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

Bringing his lips to his own they passionately exchanged a kiss that had you mewling as the long-haired man rolled his hips hard hitting that soft spot inside you repeatedly. 

Eddie’s head tilted back as his jaw went slack and you couldn’t help but reach your hands up to run your nails down your chest. 

“I’m…I’m…please…”

Steve moved back as the metalhead grabbed your wrists and held them against the bed as his face fell beside your own. 

“You fucking ask me, Y/N. You beg us to let you cum. Shit. We have control in here.”, he whispers in your ear making your shudder underneath him. 

“P-Please, Mr. Munson. Can I cum? I want to cum on your cock, please.”

His hair tickles your face as he nods and the action of him tenderly kissing your cheek pushes you over the edge as the coil snaps. 

“Fuck, that’s it, pretty girl. Came so fucking hard on my dick. I’m going to fill you up, princess, ok?”

“Please…”, you whimper as he slams into you, chasing his high.

Your professor’s grunts filled your ear and you turned your head into the sound as he warmed your insides. As soon as he rolled off you, a hand took hold of your ankle and yanked you to the edge the bed. 

“Hey, hey, honey. No, no.”, Steve cooed with a hint of sarcasm as he lightly slapped your cheek. “Open your eyes, baby. What color are you at, Y/N?”

“Green.”

His massive palm slapped you a bit harder causing your eyes to fully open as you leaned up on your elbows. 

“Green, what?”

“Green, SIR!”

You’re suddenly turned on to your stomach as rough hands lift your ass in the air while another set takes hold of your wrists and pulls your top half down and forward. 

“Get rid of the attitude, Y/N. You think just because you came you’re allowed to be disrespectful?”, Eddie growls as Steve spanks your behind. “Now, answer him clearly without the tone.”

“Green, Mr. Harrington.”

As he ran his tip through your folds, you knew even after taking his partner, he was going to split you in half. 

“Fuck me.”, Steve moaned as he began pushing himself into you. 

Eddie’s head tilted to the side as he watched your face scrunch together. 

“You’re alright, sweetheart. Trust me, I know how hard he can be to take at first but it will feel good soon. I promise, baby.”, he soothed and kissed your lips. 

“F-Feels…feels good…now. Fuck.”

The man behind you smacks your ass at the curse, pressing further into your cunt till his hips finally connected with yours. 

“Still green, babe?”

“Yeeeees, sir.”

“Good.” Clinging to your waist, Steve pulled back till he was almost all the way out of pussy before roughly slamming back into you practically punching the air from your lungs.

“Oh my god!”

With a slanted smile, he pounded into you as Eddie watched from the side, sitting up on his knees to occasionally run his fingers down the man’s chest. 

“She feels really fucking good, right? Our young, new little toy.”

“Goddamn, I’m gonna fucking bust like a teenager.”

“Wait, pretty boy. You need to feel her cum. Her pussy fucking chokes your dick, I swear.”

“Fuck, Y/N, are you close, little girl?” When you didn’t answer, his hand reached around to grab you throat and lift your back to his chest. “Still coherent, you little slut? I asked you a question.”

“H-Harder, Mr. Harrington, please.”

As his forehead landed on your shoulder, he did what you asked till the bed began to jostle underneath you. A jolt of electricity shot through your body and you mewled as Eddie rubbed circles into your clit. 

You took their conversation as approval and your arm circle around Steve’s neck as you came. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!”, he grunted as he took hold of your chin and turned you so his lips could mingle with yours as he pumped into you a few more times before releasing his seed inside you. 

You were completely drained and slightly sore as he tried to delicately pullout of you while you waited for what to do next. Usually, the boys you were with did the minimal amount of aftercare, choosing to just cuddle with you which was fine. You were surprised, however, when Eddie informed you the bath was ready when you were. 

“For me?”

“Yeah, princess, come on. It will soothe your muscles.”, he murmured softly as he took your forearm and slowly walked you to the bathtub and guided you in. Your head remained lowered as you listened to him maneuver around the bathroom, sliding on some boxers before lighting a cigarette and placing himself on his knees beside you. 

Utilizing the washcloth, he cleaned you pausing when your hand suddenly grabbed his wrist as he attempted to clean between your legs. 

“I’m sorry. Just sore.”, you whispered as you let him go. 

Eddie’s eyes scanned you over and you heard him blow out some smoke from his lips as he put the cigarette down in a nearby ashtray. His fingers moved some of your hair back and he pressed his nose into your cheek while he continued to clean you. 

“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re still doing really good for me. I know your little pussy hurts from how we stretched her open but we got you, pretty girl. You took us both so well.”

As his deep, comforting tone continued to whisper praises, you keened into the sound as you winced, trying not to grab him again.

“I know, I know. I’m almost done.”

Tilting your head, your lips found his, both of you getting lost in the feeling as he dropped the rag from his hand so he could cup your face and hold you closer. A throat clearing distracted you two as Steve entered the bathroom. 

“I, uh, I have some clothes for you here, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”

Nodding, you allow Eddie to help you out and lead you in front of his partner who took a seat on the edge of the bed. His honey irises ran along your body, checking for extra care you may need that they inflicted but unlike your assault earlier the only mark they left was the slight reddening of their handprints on your behind. 

“How’s your throat? I tried not to grab you where—”

Your kisses startled him at first but after a few seconds his hand slithered tenderly behind your neck as he kissed you back. 

“I’m ok. Just sore…and tired.”, you reiterate as your heavy eye lids dropped. 

“Ok, honey.” Steve’s hands held you steady while Eddie dressed you in what smelled like their clothes as you swayed in his grasp. “You did so good for us. You deserve some sleep. Would you like me to carry you to the guest bedro—”

Both men watched with amusement as your shook your head before climbing over him and crawling under their covers. 

“I guess we can sleep in the—”

“Please don’t leave.”, you begged in a little girl voice that pierced their hearts. 

“Why does she keep interrupting me?”, Steve chuckles as he gets to his feet and yanks Eddie into his arms to kiss his lips. “She doesn’t do that with you. Or does she in class?”

At the word the metalhead became silent as he kissed his partner’s shoulder and crawled into the bed in front of you. His palm softly caressed your face and through your hair as Steve got in bed behind you.

“You’re worried.”

“Of course, I am and not just because she’s a student. That’s just the frosting on top of the cake that is our problem.”

“That sounds delicious.”

“Steven.”, Eddie scolds as they both smile. “She’s so much younger than we are.”

“10 years. Not much.”

“Not to mention the fact, that we are already hiding OUR relationship let alone another with a young, student. She deserves to be taken on dates and to live her life. She deserves to be seen not hidden.”

“So do you, honey.”

“Steve… we decided a long time ago to stay in Hawkins for a reason. We can’t be run out of town by these homophobic small, minded idiots. They’ve just barely started calming down when it comes to me and what happened in 86. And that’s another thing. What if…what if something happens? What if Vecna comes back or any other fucking monster? We can’t drag her into that.”

“Eddie, you’re over thinking again, but I see where you are coming from. Let’s…let’s take it one day at a time, ok? Who knows. She may wake up and decide this is all too much herself. She may not want to be with some…old, broken-down college professors slash coach.”

“Oh my god, baby.”, the long-haired boy chuckles as he throws his arm over his eyes. “You’re not broke down. We just have some wear and tear.”

Your palm reaching out and pulling Eddie closer as you fully folded into Steve silenced them. They relaxed into you as your professor kissed your forehead and your school’s coached nuzzled into your shoulder as they drifted off to sleep with you. 

##############

@corkadymu @lilaclazer @aol19 @nailbatanddungeon

#steddie #steddie smut #steddie fic #coach Steve harrington #professor Eddie munson #student reader #fem reader #plus size reader #steddie x plus size reader #steddie x reader #steddie x you #steddie x y/n #steve harrington #dom steve #steve fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #joe keery #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie fanfic #fan fiction #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things au #dom eddie munson

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Mine (All Mine)

Request: None A/N: Please enjoy some short smut and possessive!cooper. Nothing important otherwise :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, attempted SA, P in V sex, Cooper licking blood, 18+ MINORS DNI! Summary: Cooper doesn't share what's his, and he sure as hell doesn't let anyone take it by force.

Word Count: 2.4k+

(Gif Credit to @victoryrifle)

“Keep walkin’!” 

You stumble over the rusty leg irons binding your feet. The slave trader yapping in your ear proceeds to shove you once again, but you bite your tongue. 

Nothing could ever just go according to plan. 

Running low on both Vials and sustenance, you’d led a hacking Cooper into the nearest town. It was desolate, but what town wasn’t in this age? You weren’t planning on staying long anyway; you just needed to get Cooper somewhere relatively safe and barter with whoever happened to be running the pharmacy that day.

Too bad the entire town was run by Slavers, up to and including the old Mister Handy running its dingy medical outpost. You were sedated and down before the inkling to fight ever came along, left to wake up in a wood cage with your hands and feet bound. 

You went hoarse from screaming pointlessly at your captors. Your wooden prison was sat carelessly in the open, unbearable heat beating down. The whipping wind ensured that sand found its way into every crevice. There was no doubt your skin was scorched from the sun.

And they left you there, until the sun set and you could hear the roar of a raucous crowd from the town center. 

Cooper was back there somewhere, probably having hacked up a lung in the empty shell of a house you’d broken into on the outskirts of town. You were careful to board the door back up when you left, and hoped no one had retraced your steps. 

“I said move! You fuckin’ deaf?” A Slaver grabs you painfully by the ear and yanks. “Bein’ deaf drops your price.”

The other women you’re chained to - in a single file line behind you with very little slack on the chains - cower in fear. You glare at the man and decide headbutting him is the best course of action, knocking your skull into the soft part of his nose. 

“Wish I was so I didn’t have to hear you run your mouth.”

The Slaver cracks his most-likely broken nose back into place and smirks. “Maybe I’ll buy you myself. Teach you a damn lesson.”

He turns away then, letting the rest of the guards lead you down a narrow alley between two buildings. Creaky wooden stairs greet you, and you step up them without hesitation. If nothing else, you’d give the Slavers no sense of satisfaction by putting fear on display. 

The town square has been converted into a makeshift stage and audience area, where tens of people sit, stand and holler as you’re all led on stage. They all hold small signs with numbers, and it doesn’t take you long to realize it’s an auction. 

They start with the woman farthest to your left, yelling out how many caps they deemed her worthy of. It continues down the row until the auctioneer, who you realize had four eyes total on his face, stops in front of you. 

“Mint condition, this one is.” He yells into the crowd and slaps a firm hand onto your shoulder. “How many caps for her?”

You try to keep up with the people throwing numbers out, but there’s too many faces and not enough ambient light to see them all. Eventually the auctioneer moves away, and you’re left to stand there. The other women are given the same treatment, until each of them is labeled with a price and effectively sold to the highest bidder. 

The auctioneer makes an announcement about cap exchange as the crowd is dissipating, but you’re still bound in chains. Your eyes dart around, looking for any unbecoming figures that come towards you. Men meet with the auctioneer one by one, and are slowly allowed to leave with their prizes. The women are a mix of cryers and defiers, some simply accepting their fate with tears in their eyes while others scream and thrash as they’re dragged off. 

You look to the auctioneer when it’s only you left, trying to figure out what was going on. One slaver makes his way to you, grabbing at the iron cuffs  to unlock them. 

“Nah, man. Leave her cuffed.”

The slaver in front of you grins at the one who’d spoken. Coincidentally, the same whose nose you’d broken minutes ago. He steps into your field of view, and you realize he wasn’t bluffing when he said he’d buy you. Ice-cold terror flows through your veins at the helplessness of being cuffed, but you refuse to show it.

“Nasty, huh? Just how I like 'em’.”

Broken Nose grabs you by the collar and yanks you close enough that you can smell the teeth rotting out of his mouth. “Oh, I’m gonna like it. That’s for sure.”

In what is probably a poor choice, you spit in his face. Just like the headbut, it was impulsive and split-second. You don’t regret it, but you realize it’s not a great idea. Regardless, you weren’t about to go down without a fight. 

Unfortunately for you, now he’s not worried about damaging goods before a sale. The slaver backhands you, and the force sends you tumbling to the ground. You’re struggling to your hands and knees, tangled in ridiculously long chains and fumbling with your cuffs. Broken Nose kneels in front of you and grabs you by the neck. 

“Need a lesson in manners, huh?” He growls. 

You take your first good look at him. He’s probably ten years older than yourself, with yellowing teeth and greasy black hair that hangs in a stringy manner around his face. The bridge of his nose is bruised, yellow and purple all over. Dried blood is still caked around his mouth. 

“Fuck you.” 

He finally snaps, and grabs a hold of the chains. You’re dragged off the stage and pushed into the darkness of the alleyway. One fist latches into your hair, and the other replaces itself around your throat. 

“We’ll start here.” He shakes you, bringing your face within centimeters of his. “When I say something, you fuckin’ listen!” 

You’re on the ground before you know it, and large hands grab at the old leather belt around your waist. You kick and thrash to the best of your ability while bound, screaming like a banshee. The slaver manages to pin you down and crawl over top, one hand fumbling with the zipper of his pants while the other holds your cuffed wrists down. The sound of belts jangling encourages you to fight more, and you thrash upwards. He might be bigger than you, but he’s a sloppy fighter and lets one of your wrists slip free. 

Without hesitation, you swing the iron cuff and chain as hard as you can into his face. 

“Agh! You’re a dead bitch, you know that?” He stumbles to the side, leaning against a building for support and clutching his now-bleeding forehead. His pants hang loose, dirty boxers on display.

You’re on your back, covered in both your blood and his. Your chest heaves, and you stare down your would-be assaulter. 

“Y’know, I missed that last exchange.” A familiar drawl echoes from the back of the alley. “You mind repeatin’ it, boy?”

The Slaver snorts. “You want some? Go ahead and try. She’d be better off in the fuckin’ ground.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’d have to try.” Spurs clank down the empty alleyway from behind you, “Somethin’ tells me she’d come willingly.”

The Ghoul stands firm in his place, hand hovering over his gun like an old western standoff. Your head drops to the ground in relief. The slaver, though, looks more and more irritated by the moment. He glares at the Ghoul who’s now only a few feet behind you.

“Fuckin’ ghoul.” Broken Nose growls, and pulls a pistol. “Why don’t you get lost?”

Cooper takes a few more steps forward, sidestepping your body. The Slaver keeps the gun level with him. “‘Fraid I can’t do that.”

“Oh yeah?” The slaver gestures wildly with his pistol. “Why’s that?”

The Ghoul darts forward like a puma, ducking the shot that’s fired at him. You see a knife glint in the dim light, and hear it cut through flesh. 

“‘Cause nobody touches what’s mine.”

A flash of heat shoots through you in spite of the circumstances. You watch Broken Nose fall to the ground, barely alive as blood gushes from a gash across his neck. Cooper’s knife drops from his hand, falling to blood-stained dirt. He turns to you slowly. 

“You alright?”

He’s covered in blood, obviously pissed off, and has never been more attractive. 

“Fantastic.” You breathe. The fiery determination and blatant possessiveness on display by the Ghoul shoot bolts of want straight to your cunt. 

The Ghoul steps over Broken Nose’s legs to get to you. His eyes are dark, but do a once over to check you for injuries. 

“He touch you?” Cooper’s drawl is thick. So much so that it almost twists his words into a snarl. 

You push yourself to sit up. “Not anywhere delicate.”

Cooper hums and uses your chains to pull you up. Your legs are sore from kicking, and arms raw from the cuffs. “Whatta ‘bout this?”

You look down as he reaches to you and fiddles with the unfastened belt. His hands linger at the button of your jeans, tugging at the fabric. 

“Oh, he tried.” You shiver as Cooper’s fingers  dance over the skin of your stomach. “But I wouldn’t let him.”

His leather gloves fist into your shirt and yank you close. You trip over the chains and fall into his chest. 

“Damn right.” His breath washes over your ear. “Nobody touches you like that but me.”

You’d be lying if you said wetness didn’t gather between your legs faster than a speeding bullet. Cooper’s eyes jotted town towards your dangling belt once more before he used your bounds to spin you back against the wall. One of his knees jammed between your thighs, and his hands landed heavily on either side of your head. 

You wet your lips as he hovers mere centimeters away. The Ghoul’s eyes are transfixed on your chest and stomach, where your white tank top is bared and covered in red stains. He lowers a hand to brush up your stomach, between your breasts and through rivulets of crimson. It’s immediately stuck into his mouth, and you moan shakily as his tongue darts out to taste your attacker’s blood. 

Cooper turns his head and spits. “Slavers always taste foul.” 

You readjust yourself on his knee to send pleasant waves of heat to your core. “Cooper Howard?”

He looks down at you, hat brim drawn low on his brow and desire burning bright in his eyes. There’s a bulge visible just below his belt that makes you salivate. 

“What could you possibly want, darlin’?” His marred face leans in close, lips brushing your ears. Teeth nip at your earlobe, “Couldn’t be to fuck right here in the open where you was attacked by some other fella, now is it?”

Now, you know that sentence should give you pause. 

However, this world is fucked beyond belief. 

You whimper out your answer, and the Ghoul continues his steady ministrations down your neck and in that sensitive spot behind your ear. With your hands bound, you can’t do much more than tangle your fingers in his shirt and hold. 

When he resurfaces, your neck is wet with saliva and sweat.

“I’ll take care of you, babydoll.” He purrs. “Right here, right now. You just gotta do one thing for me.”

You fist your hand in his shirt, but are surprised to find the cuffs slipping away after he fumbles with them for a moment. A quick glance shows him pocketing a key, but you’re too worked up to focus on one thing for too long. 

“What do I gotta do?”

You really don’t mean to sound so desperate, but something about Cooper always has you heated and dripping as soon as he initiates anything intimate. 

“Just tell me.” He grunts as you tug at his belt with newly freed hands. “Who do you belong to?”

Oh, you’re fucked.

“You. Fuck, I belong to you.” You gasp as you free him from his pants. “I want you to use me to get off.”

A scarred hand wraps tight around your neck and forces your head upwards. “Damn straight.”

It takes no time to yank your pants low enough for him to enter you. You’ve flipped so your front side is pinned to the building, legs spread. Cooper takes long, slow thrusts at first before picking up the pace. Large, strong hands hold your hips steady. You brace yourself with your hands, moaning in time with his thrusts. He’s stable throughout, only growling pet names into your ear when you let out a whine. The Ghoul begins to stagger when he’s close, and it’s not long before you feel his release coating your walls and dripping out onto the dirt. 

You don’t realize how unstable and sore your legs are until he’s sliding out of you, filthy noises following. His cock pulses against your swollen slit before you fully collapse. 

“Easy now.” Cooper catches you, one hand attempting to fasten himself back into his jeans, “Seems that we gotta go back to camp, huh?”

Your mind is alight with want for him, and you whine in his absence. “Coop, please.”

“Oh no need to beg, sugar.” He fixes your pants as well, “I plan on taking good care of you when we get there.”

Back at camp, he fulfills his promise and more. 

You beg and plead for your release, and it’s granted with enthusiasm. 

And after it’s done, you both ache for sleep, to rest sore muscles and heal new bruises. Some from fights, and others from passion. A blanket of stars coerces you to shut your eyes, and you’re helpless to resist. This night could have ended much differently - namely, with a bullet in your head- so you think about how grateful you are to have the legendary Ghoul at your side, protecting you on your shared journey for the truth. Willing to fight through his own suffering and dependencies to keep you safe in spite of his rocky exterior. 

You like to think he’s a big teddy bear, but you didn’t dare put it out into the world while in his vicinity.

The thoughts are fleeting, and you fall into oblivion while tucked into the side of vengeance itself. It’s a place many others, even in this hellscape of a Wasteland, wouldn’t dare to get near. 

The big, bad Ghoul.

And he’s all mine.

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

#Cooper Howard #Cooper Howard x You #Ghoul x Reader #fallout imagine #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x f!reader #The Ghoul x Reader #the Ghoul x you #cooper howard x oc #fallout tv series #lucy maclean #walton goggins #fallout fiends #possessive!cooper howard #fallout #fallout 4 #fallout new vegas #ghouls deserve love too #the ghoul

[luveline]

You said you might need ideas for stripper reader! And Spencer and well….

Post Prison Spencer coming home and just being so afraid to touch reader (what if he hurts her?), to take his shirt off in front of reader (the scars - the bruises that didn’t fade, the lost weight) and afraid to tell you about the drugs/what happened because what if you leave and stripper!reader just being like “I love you”, ya know?

No worries if you aren’t interested in this though!!! Love all your works 💕

thank you for your request angel!

—Spencer’s reluctant to touch you in the week he’s released from prison, and you just wanna know why. stripper!reader, 1k

“I don’t like when you stretch like that.” 

“Too provocative?” you ask in a murmur.

“Too painful looking. Does it hurt?” 

You lay on your back with your legs underneath you, having initially been kneeling, but now lowered with your shoulders touching hardwood. It used to hurt more, but dancing requires limberness. Though you aren’t sure you’ll be dancing much longer. 

You hold your hands out for him to help you up. Cruel, he ignores you, sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee curled in his nice hands. “That’s not nice,” you say. 

“Sorry.” He crosses his legs. “I just don’t want you to pull something.” 

“This is so I don’t pull something.” 

“You’re not dancing tonight,” he says. Not demanding, just stating a fact. You haven’t been to the club once in the week since Spencer came home, and you’ve no plans yet to return. 

“I’m going to give you a lap dance.”

Spencer laughs. You’ve known one another a long time now and you’ve never given him one. He’s never asked, and you’ve never wanted to. There’s not much fun in it, maybe, because it’s work, and you associate it with needing things, and selfish hands. 

You get up, holding his gaze as you stand in front of him. He thinks you don’t notice, but Spencer Reid is reluctant to touch you lately and it’s breaking your heart, so you aren’t going to give him a lap dance, but you do need to get close to him. 

“Can I sit in your lap?” you ask quietly. 

Spencer might not want to touch you of his own volition, but he’s yet to deny you something you want. He holds out an arm, his hand a beckoning as you climb into his lap, or over if. You put one knee on one side of him and one knee the other, thighs spread, careful not to press on anything too soft. His lips turn up into a frantic smile. It’s sort of funny, the panic you’d see on men who clearly aren’t used to being touched, but it has a strange thread to it that unnerves you. He’s your boyfriend. He’s very in love with you, he talks of marriage often, he’s begged you to move in. Why is he reluctant to be near you now? 

“Have you changed your mind?” you ask. 

Even as you do his hand is settling on your hip like he can’t help himself. He sounds guilty as he asks, “About what?” 

“‘Bout me.” 

“I could never change my mind about you, I wouldn’t want to,” he says. 

His eyes feel huge when he’s looking at you like this, brown and dark pupil mixed together, expression finally cleared of shame and replaced with a tenderness you’d never seen aimed at you until you met him. You pull one of his curls between your fingers. It isn’t enough. You bury your hand in his hair and hold it out of his face, in love and allowed to be. You can’t believe you had to go almost three whole months without him. 

“Why do you think I did?” he asks. 

“Come on, you know why. You’re acting like you’ve developed a sudden allergy to me.” 

“No,” he says, leaning into your touch. “Is that what’s happening?” 

“Is it… me? Like, I don’t know. Did you have a prison girlfriend?” 

“It’s not like that,” he says with a little laugh, pulling you closer in his lap. Your back arches under his hand, your faces inching closer. 

“It feels like it is, though, Spence. You were gone for so long and you’re acting like you didn’t miss me, and maybe I’m full of myself but I know you did so it has to be something else.” You give his cheek a squeeze, his lips pouting. 

You’d kiss him, usually. 

“I just don’t wanna hurt you,” he says, eyes on your nose. “Again. I don’t think I have it in me.” 

“No, you don’t, and you’ve never hurt me before.” 

He smiles and closes his eyes. “Just left you all by yourself for months while I was on vacation…” 

You’re not quite laughing as you lean down for a small, careful kiss. “That wasn’t your fault,” you say against his lips. 

“I made stupid decisions.” 

“I make them all the time.” 

You kiss him again. He’s relaxing now, you wouldn’t kiss him otherwise, though you can tell he doesn’t know what to do with you like this. “You’re not that out of practice, are you?” you ask, letting your lips follow a trail of their own volition up his cheek. He’s fun to kiss, soft, though not as soft as he was, and your chapstick leaves little kiss prints all over his pale cheek. 

“Spencer, you know I love you? Like, I really love you.” 

“I know.” 

“And nothing you do, nothing that happens to you, could make me stop.” You lift his face by the cheek. “Right?” 

He bats your hand away from his cheek and takes your face into his palms, as if to say, Stop it, I get it. He looks good like this with his scrub of stubble and a bit of confidence about him. “I don’t know what I did to get so lucky with you,” he says, pulling you in, squishing his nose to yours. 

You cover his wrists with your hands and close your eyes. 

He saved you a bunch of times. “You have a very selective memory when you want it to be,” you say gently. “But you can tell me anything. Everything that happened, I want to know. Please, Spence.” Stop carrying it around by yourself.

He nods his head, you can feel it against your nose, his breath on your lips as he says, “Don’t say please.”

“Okay.” You grin. “Is that the only rule?” 

His hand sneaks around to the back of your neck. “Stay where you are,” he murmurs, his lips dragging down to yours. 

You melt in his arms. 

—

my requests are wide open! please like or reblog / reply if you enjoyed, i hope u did!!❤️

#spencer and stripper!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[miguelhugger2099]

Here, Kitty Kitty

Summary: Miguel O'Hara is your world's Black Cat. A/N: me when there's no fanfic of miguel as black cat: fine, ill do it myself Art: Marbipa on twt

Miguel x Reader, No warnings, a little suggestive but that's it, Word Count: 2,535

Swinging on your webs, you hopped from building to building and made sure to to keep an eye out for any more crime during your patrol. You hoped that tonight would be a breeze but unfortunately, the life of a superhero will never rest. You landed by one of the police antennas and heard a call coming through their radios. Tilting your head, you focused on the frequencies to get a better signal. "All units be advised. We've got a call for a robbery in Lower Manhattan. Heading there now, requesting backup." You glanced up at the sky seeing the moon illuminate brightly. "I guess I could help the boys in blue." You shrug and thwip your web shooters, the silk spinning and sticking to another building before jumping off to gain momentum. You hauled yourself up after swinging, diving down between apartments and just barely slipping through a couple fire exits. You thought about who it might be this time. Maybe it was the Shocker again. Oh, he was always so easy to make fun of. No, that wasn't possible: you put him in prison. You just hoped it wasn't another one of Tombstone's men--they were always a little too cocky. Maybe just a couple of randoms trying to make extra cash the wrong way–a boring way to end the night but at least it'd be easy. You swung faster after hearing the sirens of police cars echoing throughout the night of New York. You saw a few police cars behind you and you giggled to yourself, playing a one sided game of who would get there faster. Always the competitive one you were, you stuck your webs onto two poles and pulled back so hard that they bent slightly. Your forearms burned until you let go, slingshotting yourself in the sky and allowing yourself to glide above the city. You wished to take off your mask and feel the breeze properly but you settled for the ripples flapping on your suit. "Robbery, robbery, robbery..." You murmured, swiveling your head around to see where the robbery could've been. You blinked as you spotted the familiar colors of blue and red flashing in the distance. "Robbery!" You grinned.

Zipping through the wind, you landed above what you now see is a jewelry store. You crawl into the shadows, making sure none of the policemen could see you. "Hm. I guess they win this time." You mutter to yourself about your little game. Perching on the ledge, you listened in on their conversation. "Any security footage?" One policewoman asks. "We're checking them now but so far after entering the perimeter, all cameras have been damaged." "Did you see what was stolen?" "A few rings and bracelets. But the owner is more concerned with a diamond necklace. Says it was going to be auctioned off later this weekend." You tilt your head in thought. And they got away? Definitely not some regular citizens. You began to feel a headache creep on you. You couldn't handle another big bad to fight this weekend. You stepped down from the ledge carefully and walked around the top of the building to find a vent. Once you did, you ripped it open and crawled inside, your body sticking to the ceiling. You looked around and saw various cases filled with glittering jewels, ranging in size and colors. You crawled through another room and hopped off the ceiling with a small thud. Looking behind you, you made sure no one had seen you and you began rummaging through the room to find any evidence lying around to catch the perpetrator.

You found yourself in front of the glowing case in the middle. You circled around it, the eyes of your mask squinting at the empty sloth that would've fit a giant diamond necklace inside. The glass was perfectly intact instead of ruthlessly shattered. This was no common thief. No fingerprints, everything was spotless and clean. You took a closer look. "Looking for this, arañita?" You hear a smooth voice behind you. You spin around, shooting your webs to trap the wrist of the stranger behind you to the wall. The familiar tall man you've had a complicated relationship with, Miguel O'Hara a.k.a. Black Cat. His skin tight black suit hugged his built body, white fur fluffed at his forearms and around his shoulders. His suit was opened at his chest, a long slit that gave everyone a nice view of his tanned skin littered with little black and graying hairs. His dark brown eyes were decorated with a thin diamond shaped mask that did little to hide his ‘secret identity’. His dark brown hair was in its usual slick back, gray strands curling in his locks and a pretty black collar around his neck. He tilted his head at you and lifted his other hand to cut your webs off him with an extracted claw. “Eso es como se trata un amigo? I thought your whole thing was being friendly, arañita.” Miguel says light-heartedly, unphased at the way your mask narrowed at him. You noticed that the hand you had webbed up was holding onto a pouch. Miguel slips open the pouch by its strings, lifting out the diamond necklace. He clips it around his neck and it shines in the moonlight that seeps through the ceiling window. He admires his reflection in the cases, his gloved hand caresses the jewels, his nail being gentle with grazing over it. “Isn’t she just a beauty? She’s not my style, personally, but I can appreciate her.” His eyes meet yours and he grins. “I think you would make it look even more beautiful.” You ignore his blatant flirting, your hands itching at your sides, wanting to snatch the pouch from him and return it to the police so the owner could have a good night’s rest–so you could have a good night’s rest. Now knowing the one behind this was Black Cat, your headache had gotten worse and you knew it’d be a long night. Miguel stalks up to you after taking the necklace off and placing it back in his pouch.

“What’s wrong, arañita? Cat got your tongue?” He smirked, his claw grazing under your chin and making you look up at him. You bit down on your tongue. This cat always had a way of pissing you off. “I thought we agreed you’d put this behind you. You’re rich. What more could you possibly want?” You grab his wrist and take his hand off from your chin. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted your attention?” His lips curl up, showing off his fangs. “No.” “Ouch. I’m hurt. I thought we had something.” His smile doesn't falter. “Give back the jewels, Miguel.” ‘Hmm. No. These could go for a lot of money. Way more than whatever that auction it is they’re doing.”

“Miguel, you promised me you would be good.”

His eyes soften for a split second. The memory of your last encounter months ago where you two had spent the night together in the city up on the Empire State building. Your relationship was a confusing one. There had been nights where you were on opposite sides and other nights where he answered your call for help.

Miguel began to trust you. Despite his tendencies to slip between your fingers, you always spoke to him kindly when he wasn’t pushing your buttons–even then he knew you never harbored any actual hatred for him. So after a long night, he confided in you that this was his new life and it wouldn’t change–he’d always come back to a life of crime, it’s who he was. You believed he was better than that.

That night before he disappeared for months, he pulled up your mask just enough to see your lips and he kissed you, leaving with a promise to do better. But cats were known to do whatever they wanted. “You know I’m not good like you, arañita.” His smile turns melancholy. “But you could be.” You insisted. “Give me the pouch.” “I can’t do that, amor.” 

You huffed through your nose, jaw clenching, and you tried to snatch the bag from his hand as quickly as you could. Miguel was faster, his clawed hand grabbing you and forcing you to bend over the glass display of jewelry with your arm behind your back.

You grunted when your cheek met the hard glass and attempted to worm your way out of his hold. You feel Miguel lean over your body, his warm breath whispering next to your ear.

“I've thought about you like this. Maybe with a little less clothing.” He teases and chuckles when you stiffen. 

“Miguel.” You warn lowly. 

“It's been nice seeing you again, arañita, but I've got to run.” You hear a dull clanking sound along with a small whizz.

You felt rope like strings wrap around your body and arms and suction themselves to the glass he slammed you on, trapping you.

Shit.

You crane your head as much as you could to see Miguel take a step back away from you. Just for shits and giggles, he plucks a pair of earrings from a stand and places it inside his bag before raising his hand up at the ceiling window. 

Miguel gives you a wink and a charming smile and his grappling hook zips out from his wrist, denting itself in the wall. It pulls him up and he pops the window open, successfully escaping without leaving a trace.

You groan and knock your forehead on the cold glass. With your strength, you pop the rope off you, stretching your arm and wrist out.

Police began to enter inside the building, their commotion and their comms going off and getting closer to you.

Collecting the ropes, you webbed yourself out through the same window Miguel used and closed it behind you. You tossed the ropes away and began swinging around, trying to sense any trace of Miguel.

“Dammit, kitty.” You mutter under your breath. You ignored the way your heart pounded as you scanned every nearby corner. The sight of him after so long sent flutters in your stomach. You ignored the lingering hot touch of his fingers around you, the weight of his body towering over yours. His hips that gently bucked up against–

You tumbled on the roof of a brick building. This was not how you wanted your night to go. You let out deep breaths, your arms and legs spread out as you lay on your back. 

After a couple of minutes, you sat up. You ripped your mask off and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. You felt a turmoil of emotions. 

When Miguel had kissed you that night, it broke your heart. He felt so sure of himself to give you affection but at the cost of his disappearance right after. It hurt but you thought if he could turn his life around for the better, it'd be worth all the heartbreak and what ifs.

You stood up and placed your mask back on your head, your arm raising up to shoot a web when your spider senses alerted you of someone. 

You turn around to see Miguel, half of his body in the shadows.

“I don't have the pouch so don't shoot.” He raises his hands in a mock surrender.

“Didn't you say you needed to run?” Your voice spits and Miguel nods.

“I also said it was nice to see you again.” He walks up to you, his hands gently placing themselves on your hips. You stand tall, not wanting him to know his effect on you. “So forgive me, I'm a little selfish. I wanted to see you one more time.”

“Why are you back?” You mumble. Why are you back in New York?

“I'm sorry, corazón. You know me. It's what I do.”

“So you lied to me.”

Miguel winces. “No. No, I didn't. I tried, believe me.” His hands squeeze your hips. “I tried for you but…it's not for me. This,” He gestures to himself, clad in black spandex and white fur. “This is who I am now. It's how I have to live.”

He cups your cheek, his thumb caressing your mask-covered face. He wonders what you looked like underneath. Were you as beautiful as your body? Your heart? He dreamed so. He knew so.

“I still don't believe that.” You whisper, leaning into his touch, hands slowly going around the back of his neck and he takes it as an invite to bring you closer.

“You're still so naive.” He murmurs.

“You said you liked that about me.” You quipped. Miguel chuckles.

“I did say that.” 

You feel a smile creep up on your face, your heart feeling lighter at the sound of his laugh.

“Hopefully we'll cross paths more often now that I'm back in New York.” Miguel grins. “Te extrañe.”

“I missed you too.” You whisper. With your chest pressed up against his, you could faintly feel the rumble of him purring. Miguel's claws run under your throat, flicking up the fabric of your mask to expose just a bit of your neck as if wanting to lift it off. “But you know I have to turn you in for robbing.” You add.

“Hm. A shame.” He mumbles dismissively. He continues to ride up your mask and you let him. He stops at your nose and leaves it there, eyes focused on the way your lips parted. “Kiss for good luck?” He asks. His eyes glint when you licks your lips subconsciously.

“You’re pushing it, kitty.” You mumble back but your arms tighten around him. Miguel purrs at the pet name.

“Just one kiss.” He insists, leaning down to brush his lips against your mask where your forehead was. You tilt his head further down with your hand at the back of his head and he follows. With your guidance, his lips find yours and your heart skips a beat. Miguel tugs you closer by the waist, pressing your chest and hips together. His hands crawl up your spine while he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. You match his pace with your eyes closed while you feel his soft lump lips caressing yours. You didn’t know how long the kiss lasted–not when his hands roamed your body, squeezing you and devouring as much of your tiny moans as he could. Your hands curled up at the base of his neck while he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip. Gasping, you allowed him access but he pulled away. “I’ll see you next time, arañita.” Miguel whispers against your lips,the fangs of his teeth gently nibble on your top lip before he pulls away. He squeezes your waist, his touch lingering and aching to keep you near but he lets go. He takes a step back from you and jumps back into the night, the sound of his grappling hook zipping through the air faintly. You sigh, trying to slow down your heartbeat with a hand over your chest when suddenly you pause. “Dammit…” You huff and kick a pebble away from you.

a/n: black cat miguel o'hara if you can hear me, please save me, save me black cat miguel o'hara

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara imagine

[ghostboneswrites2]

Safer

Summary: After the fall of the prison and a brutal assault, Daryl cares for you.

NOTE (please read): A mutual requested this a while ago. Took a long while to write, and tbh I considered turning the req down given the premise and my firm stance on writing graphic SA which you can find here. However, they explained to me that they are a victim of a violent s*xual assault, and they expressed it would be healing in a way to have a story where they were cared for by their comfort character. After some consideration, I decided to go for it. I'm sure a lot of us have been victimized by people who couldn't control their urges, or those who lacked respect for our boundaries, bodies, and consent. Myself included. So, this story is for us, to those of us that can stomach it. 

DISCLAIMER: There are no scenes of graphic SA, only the aftermath. While I will not be telling any descriptive scenarios of being assaulted, I do want to clearly express that this is a generally heavy story and it may not be suitable for all audiences. Please consume responsibly.

**I will not be tagging anyone on the taglist due to the content of this story**

18+MDNI ||  WARNINGS: non-graphic allusions to SA, violence, mild nudity descriptions, generally heavy content so I can't say it enough: TW!!!

Banners credited on my masterlist!!

        Daryl's vision was blurred as he blinked himself to consciousness. It took him some time to gather his thoughts and recognize his surroundings. His wrists and ankles were bound together, his mouth gagged with a cloth that tasted of sweat and filth. He stared up at the treetops towering over him. It was dark outside, save for the dim light of a dying campfire a few feet away. He lifted his head from the forest floor and looked down past his feet. Lumps of sleeping bodies under raggedy blankets and torn sleeping bags rested around him. His heart raced as his memories crept back in; of you, screaming his name, of him fighting off the group of men who caught him off guard, of twigs snapping and a searing pain over the side of his head. Was that why his face felt so sticky? Was it dried blood?

        His eyes strained in the fading light of ember and ash. Where were you? He noticed a crumpled form at the foot of a tree. Her breathing was shallow and her clothes were torn, pants not even pulled up over her bare behind. That much, he could see. His throat tightened. His eyes watered. What the hell had he let them do to you? How could he have let this happen? He had to get you out of there, and fast. If they hadn't killed him yet, that was surely on their agenda.

        He began to squirm and writhe against his restraints. Whoever tied him up had experience. Just as hopelessness began to set in and cloud his judgement with fear -- real, genuine fear -- he noticed a reflection in the leaves. Just a few feet past his boots, a man was curled up on his side, snoring lightly in the calm breeze. His back was turned to Daryl, and behind him set a grungy backpack with a blade sticking out of the smallest pocket in the front. He glanced back  to you, shivering on the ground, unsure if you were awake or unconscious or simply passed out from the exhaustion of prior events. 

        The sight of you in your disheveled mess was all her needed to kick him into gear. Carefully and hastily, he scooted himself down toward his only chance at redeeming his status as a loyal protector of the weak and vulnerable. Ideally, he'd be able to accomplish this in silence, but he was not in an ideal situation. His circumstances were heavy, laced in sweat and angst. The leaves beneath him rustled as his back slid across the ground, twigs snapping or moving to the side as he made his way closer to the large hunting knife. He'd pause between each scoot, studying the sleeping men around him for any sign of movement or wakefulness. When he'd decide the coast was clear enough, he'd resume. It felt like an eternity, but he made it there. 

        His core muscles strained as he sat himself up. He realized how sore he was. He must have taken a good beating. Seemed fitting, though. He was never one to go down without a fight. He left that sort of weakness in his past.

        He guided his shaky, bound hands over to the bag. He slowly slid the knife out of the front pocket. His heart raged against his ribs. He didn't dare take a single breath until it was secured. 

        Slow. Slowness. Slowly. He repeated every variation of the word in his mind as he positioned the knife between his palms and dragged it back and forth until the rope finally severed. A silent breath of relief escaped him as he ripped the gag from his lips and worked on the rope tied around his ankles. When he was free, he stood and counted the sleeping bodies beneath him. Excluding you, there were four. 

        He considered waking you up and running for the hills, but he couldn't leave any loose ends. No, he thought of it like when your t-shirt has a loose thread. You could leave it to keep unraveling, or you could burn it at  the base and extend the lifetime of your clothes. He decided he needed to burn this string before it could unravel any further.

        Starting with the man closest to him -- the one who so graciously left his knife in plain sight for the archer -- he krept over and crouched down, plunching the blade into the base of his skull. Then, he moved on to the next, and the next one, and the one after that, until they were all a problem of the past. Until that pesky little thread could do no further damage to the rest of the shirt.       

        When the dirty work was behind him, he dropped the knife and rushed over to you. Your wrists were tied like his, but you were tied to the tree so you couldn't run. He eyed you over and gulped. With your pants not fully covering you and your shirt all ripped up, he could see the finger-shaped bruises littering your skin. There was blood on your inner thighs. Your lips were swollen and cut. His blood heated until it hit a boiling point. His hands trembled as they hovered over you. Touching you  felt like a crime, but he had to wake you. He had to get you out of there.

        "(Y/N)." He whispered as he laid a hand on your shoulder. You were shivering in the cool air, but a thin layer of sweat blanketed your exposed flesh. He gave you a gentle shake. "((Y/N), c'mon. We gotta go." He pleaded softly.        

        Your body jerked and you jolted awake. You gave him no chance to explain as you scrambled to your knees and cowered away against the tree. 

        "(Y/N) it's me. It's Daryl." He attempted his most soothing tone of voice. "C'mon, let me get ya cleaned up."        

        He outstretched his arm, offering you his  hand. Without making eye contact you made a move to take it, but you were stopped by the restricting force of the rope that kept you anchored to the tree trunk. He moved quickly for the knife he tossed to the side earlier and returned with it. Without the pressure of remaining silent, he had your hands free in seconds.

        He wasted no time helping you to your feet and averting his gaze as he slid your pants up where they belonged. He found he had a hard time keeping his mind straight and focused as your weeping filled the quiet campsite. 

        "Shh.." He cooed, keeping one hand on your upper back as he ushered you along with him to gather his things and yours. A smart man would have rummaged through the belongings of the ones he killed, too, but he wasn't concerned with making a smart call at that point. He was only worried about you.

        "It's alright. C'mon. Let's get ya somewhere you can rest. It's alright. C'mon." He felt useless as ever, repeating the same generic words of comfort as you limped along beside him. He never urged you to up the pace, he didn't drag you along or have you carry your own bag. He felt like the least he could do was shoulder the weight of survival on behalf of you both. He couldn't get the image out of his mind of ou laying there,caked in blood, sweat, and bruises. A girl like you should have been caked in perfume and makeup. You hair should have been done up nice for a Sunday brunch, not matted with leaves and dirt. Your clothes should have been pristine and well fitting, unlike the filthy torn clothes that were beginning to hang off your frame like tender meat falling from the bone. You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve any of it.

        Eventually he found an acceptable spot that looked like it could have been a den for a hibernating bear. It was a big shrub by a little stream, perfectly indented to give you both enough room to crouch under its foliage. He gently set you down, dropping his bow and your bags beside him. He crouched down in front of you and scanned you, worry written articulately over his features. 

        Your eyes remained glued to the ground. Your nose was upturned in disgust but your eyes told a different story; one of pain and despair and mourning for the person you were before that night. Your frown was deep enough to leave a scar. 

        "(Y/N)..." He breathed. Your eyes slowly found their way to his and welled with tears all over again. Of all things you had -- meaning, being alive and away from those men -- there was nothing you were more grateful for than his blue eyes staring back at you. You hated the way he looked at you with defeat and pity, though. You hated that he had one more thing to worry about. Still, he was there, and he was welcome. "Let's get ya cleaned up, okay?"

        You nodded once, if absentmindedly. Your thoughts were elsewhere. You couldn't pinpoint their location, though. They were scrambled, swarming all around you, like gnats you couldn't swat away.

        He pulled an old shirt from his bag and leaned over to the stream, getting it nice and wet before wringing it out. He turned back to you and brought it up to your cheek, gently dabbing and swiping away at the dirt, grime, sweat, and blood. He moved on to your neck and hands, then he paused. You both looked down at your jeans. You knew it needed to be taken care of, and he did too, but the question was really about which one of you would be brave enough to work on the gruesome scene between your legs.

        One look at your expression and he knew it couldn't be you. But, how could it be him? He couldn't put you in such a vulnerable position. No, not him.

        That's when the lightbulb went off over his head. The stream, of course.

        "Here." He offered you a hand. You took it slowly and he led you to your feet. "Wanna get in the water?" He asked. You stared down at the serene flowing water, trickling just before your feet. He cleared his throat. "I don't gotta look."

        You almost could have laughed. After everything that had happened, Daryl seeing you bathe wasn't really a concern. Still, you had to maintain some shred of dignity, and washing those men off of you was a much needed stride toward leaving that horrid night in your past. So, you nodded, and he turned away to start a fire where you could warm up after rinsing off.

        The button was busted off of your jeans. You guessed they couldn't waste their time with something as simple as undoing a button. You let out a shaky sigh and gritted your teeth. You moved to bend over and slide your jeans down, but a searing pain shot through your insides. You whimpered. "I can't." You barely managed.

        "Huh?" He asked over his shoulder.

        "I can't." You spoke up with a tremble. "I can't get them off. It hurts."

        His throat tightened up. Had they really been so cruel to you?

        "Ya want me to..." He trailed off.

        "Please." You whispered and shut your eyes. He stood beside you and pulled your pants down to your ankles, kneeling down as he did so.

        "Grab my shoulder." He instructed softly. You did. "Left leg." He said. You pulled it out. "Now the right." 

        With your jeans off, he stood up and looked down at your face, which you his from him, avoiding his gaze. 

        "Your -- Uh.." He glanced down at your underwear. You nodded, not needing to see what he meant. He followed the same process with those and turned away as soon as he was done. You cleared your throat. 

        "Can you help me sit?" You whispered. He sucked in a breath. It wasn't that you were annoying him. Anything but that, actually. He was glad to help you in any way you needed. It was the simple fact that you needed the help that was eating him alive. The thought that those guys could hurt you in this way, to this extent, was infuriating and heartbreaking. 

        He turned back to you and hovered behind you, placing a hand under each arm to support you while you lowered yourself down into the water. Once you were sitting on the creek bed, you adjusted yourself and sighed.

        "Just, uh, watch for snakes, okay?" Was all he could say before turning his attention back to the fire finally.

        Your frown deepened as you stared down at your bloodied thighs. A plop beside you startled you before realizing it was just the old shirt he was using to clean you up.

        "Figured ya might need it." He mumbled.

        You gripped the cloth in your hand and stared at it. Blood and filth stained it. Your lip quivered as you ran it over your inner thighs, scrubbing your own dried blood away and watching it disappear in the gentle current. You hissed and winced as you cleaned yourself where you were really injured. 

        When you were done, you peered over your shoulder, where Daryl stared at the small flame. He felt your eyes on him and he looked up at you. 

        "Need some clothes?" He asked.

        "Please." You replied. He nodded once and rummaged through your bag. He could only find a semi-clean shirt, but no more pants. He pulled his own bag forward and searched for the new two-pack of boxers he'd scavenged awhile back. 

        "I, uh, didn't see no more pants, but... You can have those." He said, holding your shirt and the fresh boxers out to you.

        "Thanks." You pressed your lips into a thin attempt at a friendly smile. 

        He turned away again so you could change your shirt, but you needed his help with the boxers, which he did without you needing to ask, and without a single peek at you.

        He helped you back over to the den where you could warm up by the fire. You kept the blanket in your bag, so he made sure to wrap it around your shoulders while you sat.

        "Ain't got no food." He broke the silence after a little while. You nodded.

        "Not hungry anyways." 

        "Mm." He hummed. "Get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

----

        By midday, you were on the move again, trailing right behind him as he stomped slowly over the underbrush so you could keep his pace. He'd stop every now and then, and though he didn't say it, you knew it was because he didn't want to overwork you. 

        By late afternoon, the sun was on the far end of the sky, casting an orange glow over the woods. 

        Daryl had barely been able to look at you, and you couldn't exactly claim any different. You two had taken a break again, sipping water and scanning around for any game or edible plants.

        "I want ya to know.." He cleared his throat, shattering the thick silence that glazed over you both all day. "I want ya to know I didn't see it. None of it."

        "I know you weren't looking." You deadpanned.

        "Nah, not at the stream. I meant -- I didn't see none of it." He clarified. He had a sneaking suspicion the reason you couldn't bare to look at him might have been the possibility of him seeing what had happened to you. He, however, just hated seeing you look so broken, knowing had he been more vigilant yesterday, none of those guys would have been able to sneak up on him. You looked at him finally.

        "I know. They hit you over the head 'cause you were fighting them."

        "Mm." He nodded. "I just... I need to tell ya I'm sorry." His voice cracked as he looked down at his hands and back up to you. His leg was bouncing anxiously and his gums must have bled from how hard he chewed at them.

        "Why?" You pushed your eyebrows together.

        "I shoulda been lookin' out. Shoulda protected ya. Shoulda--"

        "You were. You have been." You cut him off. "You've looked out for me every day since the prison. You've been protecting me since the quarry. You protect everyone. That wasn't your fault." You insisted. He just looked back down at his hands and sniffled, blinking back tears. He scolded himself for being the one to cry, when you were the one who got hurt. "Hey." You pressed on. "Listen to me. You got us out of there. You took care of them. You saved me. Then, you still took care of me. If we were still back there, they would have killed you and robbed you by now. And, if they hadn't killed me yet, I'd be wishing I was dead. I wouldn't be here without you. I would have never survived even before last night without you, and I wouldn't be sitting here telling you that today if it weren't for you."

        He looked you in the eyes as you spoke every word. It was a great relief to him that you weren't angry with him -- that you didn't blame him. Still, he felt so uneasy.

        "Can we camp here?" You asked suddenly. He shrugged.

        "Yeah. We can." He agreed. His voice was still broken.

        "Can I sit with you?" You asked. He looked confused but he still nodded, even if he was unsure what you meant.

        Ignoring the aches all over your body, you crawled over to him and sat in front of him, between his legs, leaning your back against his torso. He was stiff, unused to being so close to someone, but he didn't resist. As you settled in and got comfortable, he rested his arms by your sides.

        "You didn't fail me, Daryl. Nobody makes me feel safer."

Join the taglist || Masterlist

#tw: implied abuse #tw: implied sa #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n

[runningmunson]

Nothing Like Him

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: During a movie night, Eddie’s father makes a surprise visit. Eddie defends you, past trauma is brought up, and you remind Eddie that he is nothing like him.

Warning: Swearing, fighting, mentions of previous abuse, blood, angst

A/N: I most certainly used lyrics from Family Line by Conan Gray in this.

Masterlist

It was a Friday night; you and Eddie were having your weekly movie date at his trailer. Your head resting on Eddie’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. The movie was halfway through when you heard knocking at the door, startling the both of you. Eddie got up from the couch, grumbling about who could possibly be coming at this time of night. 

Eddie opened the door but not even a second later tried to close it again. You didn’t get a chance to see who it was before you saw a boot stop the door from closing and a man pushing his way in. The older man had short, dark, curly hair and brown eyes. There was no mistaking who it could have been.

“What? You aren’t gonna greet your old man, son?” Eddie’s father asked. Your heart rate picked up. Eddie never talked much about him. All you knew was that he was a criminal and Eddie despised the man.

“What the hell are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in prison?” Eddie’s words were laced with venom. 

“I got out early on good behavior,” his dad smiled. Eddie scoffed.

“Good behavior? Didn’t know you knew how to be good,” Eddie said sarcastically, his fists clenched at his sides. You moved a bit on the couch, grabbing the attention of his father.

“Who’s this pretty little thing?” he said with a smirk. He began to make his way further into the trailer and closer to you to get a better look. The way he was looking you up and down like he was a predator and you were his prey made you sick to your stomach. 

Eddie was quick to put his body in between the both of you, holding his hand out to stop him from moving closer. “You’re gonna stay the fuck away from her. (Y/N), go to my room.” Eddie said it with such forcefulness that you didn’t question it. As you made your way to his room he moved so that he was always in front of you, not trusting the uninvited visitor.

You felt his father's eyes on you when you walked past. “Damn, Eddie. Didn’t know you could land a girl with such a tight ass-” his father didn’t get to finish before Eddie had grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall. A sickening crack was heard as his fist met his father's face. 

The two men went at it for a while, releasing years of pent up emotions. Eddie was pinned down and his father had him by the throat, landing a couple punches. That’s when you saw headlights signaling Wayne was home. You ran out the door, meeting him halfway. You were in hysterics, telling him that Eddie’s father was inside and they were fighting. 

Wayne rushed into the trailer, grabbing his brother by the shoulders and hauling him off Eddie. He pushed the man outside, throwing him to the ground. “You aren’t welcome in my home. Next time you show up, I’m gonna call the cops. And you’re gonna stay the hell away from Eddie, you understand me.” 

Eddie had gotten up and followed the men outside. He spoke up, “I wasn’t strong enough to protect mom and me back then, but I am strong enough now to protect (Y/N) and myself. I don’t ever wanna see your face again, you’ll regret it if I do.” 

“You’re really gonna treat your own dad like this, I raised you better!” his father yelled at him. 

Eddie was livid. He moved closer to him and pointed a finger. “You may be my father but you’re not my fucking dad, and you sure as hell didn’t raise me to be anything but a low-life abusive criminal! Wayne has been the only dad I’ve ever known, he was the one who really raised me.” 

He started to storm off towards the trailer. His father yelled at him as he left, “Don’t you turn your back on me!" Eddie held his middle finger up in the air and kept walking, not even giving him a second glance before going back inside. 

Eddie slammed his bloodied knuckles on the counter, breathing heavily and his head hanging low. The sound made you jump. You slowly approached him, gently reaching your hand to touch his shoulder. Eddie flinched at the contact before relaxing when he realized it was you. 

“Come on, let’s go clean you up,” you said as you took his hand in yours and led him into the bathroom. You motioned for him to sit on the counter before rummaging through the cabinet to find some rubbing alcohol and a clean towel. You grabbed his hand and poured the alcohol over his bruising and cracked knuckles before using the towel to clean the blood off. Eddie winced at first, letting out a sharp “Christ” before settling in tense silence. 

“I'm sorry you had to see that, guess I was really living up to the Munson name of not being able to control my anger,” Eddie sighed, looking anywhere but your eyes. He was angry, upset, and embarrassed. He continued, "He used to hit my mom until he got tired of hearing her screams and left to get wasted at some bar. It got better for a while after she died, but to him, it was like an itch he couldn’t ignore. That’s when he started hitting me. It only stopped when he got arrested and Wayne took me in, that’s when my life finally started to change for the better.”

You set the towel aside, grabbing his other hand. “Eddie, please look at me.” He was reluctant to at first but finally caved and met your gaze. You could see tears in his beautiful brown eyes, ready to spill over at any moment.

“You are kind and gentle. You’re passionate about what really matters to you. You take in anyone who is lost, lonely, or hurting and make them your friend. When you love someone, you never forget to show them, and you love them with your whole heart. You are also incredibly brave, my knight in shining armor defending my honor.” Eddie let out a small laugh, a couple of tears rolling down his face.

“Eddie, you might share a face and last name, but you are nothing like him. You’ll never be like him because you're too damn good of a person,” you finished. You gave him a reassuring smile and kissed him, being careful of his busted lip, before resting your forehead on his.

All Eddie could do at that moment was squeeze your hand, let out an “I love you,” and pray you were right. He won’t ever be like him.

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson oneshot

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: why is it so difficult to find high quality post-prison reid fbi vest gifs like I thought we were all sluts out here but Ig not

gif creds: @imagining-in-the-margins

Duality Of Man

Spencer Reid had never really considered himself to be a reckless man. He had always been a calculated, well thought out, methodical follower of the rules, for fear of being ridiculed further for breaking societal rules beyond the ones he couldn’t help via his neurodivergence. He enjoyed rules. Learning the rules of people, of their behavior, and of various board games that challenged his intellect, were some of his favorite pastimes, actually.

Spencer also would not have regarded himself as a particularly possessive or territorial person, prior to spending three months behind bars. They isolated him, kept him locked in a space with people that wanted him dead, like an animal raised in captivity being thrown into a cage of wild lions. Having nothing of his own changed the way in which Spencer viewed the world around him, once he was allowed to step back into it.

Yours had been the first face he had seen when he had set foot beyond the prison walls on the day of his release, and the moment he felt you return to his embrace, in a gesture the two of you had engaged in countless times, a form of physical contact that he was most comfortable sharing with you; Spencer felt that something was different. In a way that he didn’t quite understand, you were his, beyond the platonic confines he had previously forced over his own feelings for you. He was not overbearing and had never overstepped your boundaries, but he was more outwardly protective of you than anyone else.

It had only presented itself in small gestures and words: moving to stand slightly in front of you in any kind of tense situation to act as your human shield, checking in with you at every stage of the cases you worked together, prioritizing your safety over his, and, naturally being the first one to object when you volunteered to go undercover to seduce an unsub into revealing information.

“Absolutely not.” Spencer had uttered from where he sat beside you at the round table, shaking his head.

And you had rolled your eyes at him. “I’ll be fine, Spence, I can handle myself.”

He couldn’t argue with that, he had seen you stare down men twice your size on several occasions, which always made him smirk. Still, Spencer could not hide the sick feeling that twisted in his gut at the thought of you going undercover, and being in danger.

As he had often found, the feeling in Spencer’s gut had been right. The unsub had been clever enough to deduce that you were a deliberate victim, not one of happenstance, and as such, he took you to a second location, which he had not done with his previous victims.

Given it was not his usual mode of operation and he had acted on instinct, the unsub’s play was an amateur move; comparable to what Spencer was certain Gideon thought in their first chess games together, so many years prior. As clever as the ubsub had been in figuring out you were not who you said you were, he was not intelligent enough to outsmart the one man army of Doctor Spencer Reid when fuelled by a fire that he had never felt burning in him before. It took less than a day for the team of profilers to find the warehouse you were being kept in, and less than a minute for Spencer to completely disregard their carefully orchestrated plan to rescue an FBI agent with the regulated SWAT team.

He didn’t need a team behind him for this.

He would handle this bastard himself.

With a kick that Spencer was sure Derek Morgan would be proud of, the door to the warehouse was made obsolete. Gun and torch raised, Spencer stalked the dark warehouse, checking dusty room after dusty room, eagle eyes scanning every corner, until a figure dared step out of the shadows in front of him. Anyone foolish enough to make themselves a physical blockade that kept Spencer from getting to you was a waste of oxygen.

“So, you’re the one she’s convinced is coming to save her.” The unsub taunted, chuckling darkly as he raised his arms out to his side cockily. “C’mon then, show me what you’ve got. No weapons, just you and me, man to man.”

As if to prove the authenticity of his own words, he discarded his usual weapon of choice, the blade clattering against the warehouse floor.

Spencer eyed him like a wild lion in a cage, and he almost smirked at the irony, but kept his expression calm and collected. He glanced at the doorway of the dark room they stood in, knowing that protocols would advise him to call for assistance, to make the arrest with as little physical harm as possible. But when Spencer’s eyes gravitated back to the subject who was now very much known to him, his target was in his sights.

An icy glare stayed fixed on the man that took you as the sound of a torch and gun hitting the ground echoed through the otherwise empty room. The air was thick as Spencer unclipped his FBI bulletproof vest and tossed that to the ground, too. And with no sense of urgency, he popped the cufflinks of his shirt and rolled his long sleeves up to his elbows.

An invitation to beat the life out of someone that took you? Hurt you? It must be Christmas.

Spencer’s expression was unmoving, and he didn’t say a word. Finally, after a childhood spent as a victim of merciless bullying and a portion of his adulthood fearing the judgment and cruelty of others, Spencer Reid was confident in his ability to end a physical confrontation with his own two fists.

In three large strides, he was face to face with the egotist, who swung at him, pathetically, and predictably enough for Spencer to not only swerve out of the way, but reciprocate the gesture tenfold. A solid right hook spun the idiot’s jaw and sent him stumbling, but Spencer was far from finished. He stalked over to him and in a matter of steps, had grabbed his target by his shirt collar and forced him against the wall. The fool was still reeling from Spencer’s punch, a dazed look in his eyes and blood dripping from his split lip.

“Did you touch her?”

Spencer’s words were eerily quiet, barely above a whisper, but in the silence of the warehouse they reverberated against every wall. He had a feeling that he already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it, he had to be sure his next actions would be justified.

His vision clearing, the man fool enough to take you smirked up at Spencer.

“(Y/N) looks real pretty when she cries, doesn’t she?”

He chose to answer Spencer’s question with a rhetorical question that immediately decided his fate.

In a fraction of a second, Spencer threw his target to the ground and pounced on him, vision clouded with red as he landed punch after punch, until the ground looked just as red to everybody else. If three months in prison had taught Spencer Reid anything, it wasn’t just how to fight, it was how to fight dirty.

He only stopped when the physical barrier sputtered for breath, and that was only because Spencer didn’t want to get thrown back into a cell. Catching his breath, Spencer lifted his gaze and scanned the room around him again.

“Spencer?!”

And he was stood, his rage an afterthought as he followed the weak sound of your voice, your call to him. In a sea of voices, Spencer could pinpoint yours in an instant. Having heard commotion, you had assumed it was him, coming to your rescue, like you always knew he would.

He found you in the next room, bruised and bloody, tied to a chair and covered in torn clothes with cuts beneath them that reassured Spencer the blood dripping from his knuckles was beyond worth it.

The look in his eyes was so soft as he ran to you and crouched in front of you, kissing your forehead as he tore the ropes from you with no regard for the burns he may get on his already bloody hands.

Finally free, you collapsed into Spencer’s arms, and he released the breath he’d been holding since you’d been taken, closing his eyes as he held you tightly against him, standing up and helping you to your feet in turn. The weight of the trauma you carried made your legs shake beneath you, but Spencer was there to hold you steady, he would always be there. He held your face in his hands and gave you the softest smile you’d ever seen, his thumbs ever so gently caressing your cheeks.

It took you a second to come to terms with your surroundings and your rescue, but as soon as you had, your eyes widened and you took Spencer’s hands in yours.

“You’re hurt.” You murmured, tears shining in your eyes as you held his bloody knuckles with such tenderness, he was surprised he could feel it after the aggression his hands had just been subjected to, but he would always be able to feel you.

Spencer almost chuckled in disbelief as you - in your beaten, bloody and traumatized state - became upset over a little blood on his hands. Well, maybe it was more than a little…

“Adrenaline, (Y/N), I can’t feel a thing.” Spencer reassured you in a soft voice, holding your face in his hands again and placing the lightest kiss on your nose. “But we need to get you to a doctor.”

The moment he said it, the rest of the team filtered into the room, having passed the sputtering suspect and Spencer’s discarded bulletproof vest on their way.

The look on Emily’s face told Spencer he would have several unpleasant reports to fill out regarding how he’d handled this case, but when he stared into your eyes and saw the stars in them, he knew he’d do it all again a hundred times if you were waiting on the other side for him.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #x reader #imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons

[xveenusx]

Hate

Paring(s): Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Two people hate how much they love each other

Authors note: get ready for some filty smut and toxic relationship Rafe

Rating: smut, 18+, mdni

Warnings: explicit mature themes, choking, spitting, hitting, dirty talk, etc.

Part 2: Love

_________________

“Oh I hate that man. I hate that man. But oh, cara Mia, how I love him.”

This can’t be happening.

Was the mantra that played in my head on a constant loop as I stared at the red dress that hung neatly in the closet.

Pougelandia seemed like a dream at this point. A beautiful dream that’s been shattered by the ever waking nightmare I’m currently in.

My heart lurched in my chest as I thought about my friends. I should have listened when John B and Pope told me to leave the pilot but I couldn’t. I couldn’t let that be another thing that happened to me.

Reaching my hand out, I let my fingers graze the fabric of the dress. It slipped through my fingers easily, the fabric clearly being the most expensive thing I’ve ever worn.

A shudder ran through me as I tugged the dress off the hanger and slipped it on. Pushing the hair out of my face, I let out a shaky breath and forced myself out of the room.

I wiped my hands nervously on the gorgeous ruby dress, swallowing down the hysterical need to cry.

My eyes danced along the gorgeous house that was my prison. Wood stained columns decorated each room with what I assumed were valuable artifacts on display. The wooden arch entry way had stained glass windows that caused hundreds of colored reflections to sparkle along each and every room.

Sliding my hand along the wooden railing on the stairs, I slowly made my descent, hoping that the knocking of my knees wasn’t noticeable. A maid greeted me at the bottom of the stairs, her smile soft as she held out her hand in the direction she wanted me to go.

“This way, miss.”

I tried to send a smile back but I’m sure it came off as more of a grimace.

“Would you like a drink?” She asked, stopping at a small bar cart to the right of an open door.

“Yes, thank you.” I cleared out, stumbling over my words.

I needed several drinks just to get through this.

The maid said nothing and simply placed a glass tumbler in my hand filled with dark liquor. I brought it to my lips and took a huge gulp, relishing in the burning sensation that wrapped around me like a warm blanket.

It seemed to take the edge off and made the next few steps easier.

She motions for me to enter the room beside the bar cart and so I do, my fingers tightening on the glass.

Stepping in, I hovered by the door, taking in the room in front of me, and saw no one. Taking another drink from my glass, I shuffled further in at the sound of movement coming from the other side that was obstructed by the door.

A towering figure stood on the other side of the room, his back facing me as he made himself a drink.

My stomach tightened for some reason.

I took stock of just how well dressed this man was. His navy blue suit seemed to be tailored to fit his tall build and reeked of wealth. He was at least six foot and had an air of superiority around him. His presence almost seemed overpowering simply due to his height.

Tingles shot up my spine as something felt familiar about him.

Only one person has ever made me feel this way.

Pushing back the thought, I cleared my throat. “Um, excuse me?”

The figure turns around and our eyes connect instantly causing all air to leave my body.

His ice blue eyes widen for a fraction of a second before settling on my face. A soul penetrating stare that shook me to the core.

My grip on the glass loosened causing it to fall and shatter into thousands of pieces. Similar to how he left my heart.

Rafe Cameron.

He looked the same yet different. The eyes that I used to stare in night after night were intense and brilliant. They held hope for the future and were ironically innocent.

The man in front of me was different. His gaze had now hardened as though he experienced something dark. Those Arctic blue orbs were enigmatic and cold, no sign of innocence or hope.

The dark dirty blonde strands I once threaded my fingers in as an anchor while he kneeled in between my legs and drove me to ecstasy were gone. His hair was nearly buzzed down to the scalp giving him the appearance of a hard and refined grown man.

The once party hungry frat boy was gone, replaced by something much darker. Much colder.

The air around us was electrifying, almost to the point of suffocation.

Rafe stared down at me, his piercing blue eyes never leaving mine, not one word being said.

But I knew exactly what he was thinking, because I was thinking it too.

Memory after memory played in my head causing my cheeks to turn hot. Him taking me on the counter with my legs thrown over his shoulder. Me bent over his bike as he ruthlessly pounds into me from behind, my long hair wrapped around his hand. Rafe pinning me down by the throat as he fucks me savagely on the top deck of the yacht.

I was practically vibrating at this point, a flash of heat hitting my center, throbbing and aching for relief.

I dragged my eyes away, needing to break the connection, ignoring the familiar rush of those intoxicatingly intense feelings that always came attached to Rafe Cameron.

A gold glint catches my eyes and for the second time today, I’m rendered motionless. Speechless.

On his wrist, familiar gold cuff links decorated the sleeved cuff on his shirt.

One’s that had my initials.

I couldn’t hide the pained look I knew painted my face. Of course, he would be behind this. There was no line he wouldn’t cross in order to get what he wanted.

I learned that the hard way. The only thing that mattered to Rafe was the gold and the approval of his psychotic father. That fact was just as painful to swallow as the first time.

Months later and he still managed to thoroughly destroy whatever pieces of me exist.

I hate this man. I hate this man.

My feet moved on their own accord stopping only when we’re less than a foot apart.

My hands clenched into fists and something inside of me snapped. Slamming them down on his chest, I let out a shout and shoved him as hard as I could.

I barreled into Rafe again, my hands hitting his chest as hard as I can but he doesn’t move an inch. His tall frame remained in place no matter how hard I tried to shove and hit him.

Frustrated, angry tears gathered in my eyes as I let out a distressed noise. “I knew you and Ward were behind this shit.”

Something flickered in his eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly and was replaced by a cold dark look.

“Be fucking serious. Are you trying to weasel in on my deal right now? Is that what’s going on?” He spat, his eyes narrowed as he bent down to my height until his face filled my vision.

An empty laugh escaped my lips as I shook my head at him with disgust,” Yes, I decided to fly to Barbados to come and ruin your deal because the entire world revolves around you.”

Rafe let out a harsh breath that made me close my eyes tightly. His entire smell engulfed my senses.

Peppermint, apples and expensive cologne whirl through my nose as my defective and traitorous heart pounds loudly in my chest.

“I wondered if your little reunion would cause sparks, you know.” A voice from the connected room mused.

At the sight of an unfamiliar figure, Rafe moved in front of me quickly blocking my view of the man. He made a noise and tucked me behind him.

Butterflies erupt at the move, pounding away at the wall I built around my heart. I peaked under his arm and saw a short man in a suit. His olive tone skin complementing his dark hair and groomed beard that decorated his face.

“Who are you?” Rafe asked, his stance never wavering.

I dug my nails into his suit jacket as I waited for a response.

“My name is Carlos Singh. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” He answered, buttoning the front of his jacket.

“I apologize for the rough tactics in bringing you here. Please come, I don’t bite.” Singh gestured to the seating area, an insincere smile on his face.

Stepping around Rafe, I cautiously look around the room before turning my gaze to him.

He subtly shook his head but I chose to ignore it and settle myself on the couch.

He didn’t get to tell me what to do.

Rafe’s eyes darkend as he muttered something harshly under his breath. Rubbing his head, he moves to where I sat angling his body slightly in between Singh and I.

“Rough tactics? What about me?”

“Ah, yes Mr. Cameron. False pretenses.”

Singh goes on a tangent describing some sort of treasure that I have no interest in and by the blank look on Rafe’s face I can see he feels the same.

“I didn’t listen to a word you said, okay? How much longer you gonna keep philosophizing?”

His words were oozing with boredom as he took a seat next to me. The warmth of his body near me made me jolt.

Clearing my throat, I stood up and took a seat in a single chair, ignoring the chuckle from Singh and the glare from Rafe.

“You’re rather direct, aren’t you Mr. Cameron?” The look on Singh’s face was threatening.

My stomach dipped with nerves at the unspoken threat in his words. I opened my mouth, hoping to distract Singh,” What do you want with me and my friends?”

“There’s a diary. The diary of Denmark Tanny. It leads to the cross of Santa Domingo and since you and your friends had the cross, you must have the diary.”

That’s what this was about?

I could already see the question in Rafe’s eyes as he zeroed in on my face. I kept my face blank, knowing despite my desire to, I couldn't tell him anything.

Tearing my gaze away from his, I told Singh,” We don’t have the diary. I dont know where it is.”

Rafe’s face hardened. His jaw clenched in anger as he looked away from me. It was unsettling.

Singh was clearly displeased as he called out for guards, tsking under his breath. Two armed guards come into the room and stall in my direction making me fumble backwards.

Rafe shielded me immediately holding up his hand,” Don’t touch her. We’re cooperating.”

The men gesture the desired direction with their guns causing Rafe’s hand to tighten its grip on mine. Singh follows closely behind clicking his tongue against his teeth.

We’re forced into a bedroom. A bedroom only sporting one bed.

No. No. No.

“Please enjoy your stay. I suggest you convince her to tell you where the diary is. You should know that I am not so forgiving nor am I patient.”

The click of a lock had me turning around in panic. Rafe moved instantly, tugging the handle harshly but it didn’t give. He hit the door in frustration letting out a curse.

I was wrong. This was the worse thing to ever happen. Rafe and I being locked together, in a room, alone.

“Try again.” I demanded, my voice raising in hysteria.

“I already did. It’s locked from the outside.”

Pushing him out of the way, I called out while banging on the door. My grip tightly on the handle as I tried to pull it open.

My calls came unanswered. Despair filled every cell in body as I took in the reality of the situation. Resting my head on the cool surface of the door, I breathed in deeply willing myself to calm down.

Warmth appeared behind me. “Are you okay-“

I pushed myself off the door and walked around him, ignoring his words entirely. I could do this. My friends will be here soon and I just had to last until then.

I couldn’t let Rafe Cameron break me for the fourth time. Not when I’ve finally glued all the pieces back together.

At the sound of a vehicle approaching and shouts of terror, I moved to the window pulling the curtains back. Rafe appeared next to me as we both peered outside through the glass.

One man in a beige bullet proof vest is dragging a man against his will while another strapped with a gun followed close behind.

“Who the hell is that guy?”

Recognition filled me as I stare at the guy being dragged away. “I know him. It’s Jimmy Portis.”

At my words, Rafe’s face turned to mine. I could feel him staring at me, wanting to know more but I couldn’t pull away from the scene in front of me.

“He was trying to help us.”

Seconds later, Singh appeared with a smug smile and a wave. Reaching behind his waist, he pulled out a gun.

My fingers tightened on the curtain.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Rafe said, his palm landing on my stomach and pushed me back gently, away from the window.

“Rafe-“ My words are cut off.

“No.” His tone left no room for negotiation as he placed himself in front of me, as though he was attempting to shield me from what happened next.

A gun shot goes off.

A shriek passes my lips as I bring my shaky hands to my mouth. Rafe didn’t even flinch. Instead, he licked his lips and turned to me.

“This diary. Hey, no bullshit,” He warns, “Dont bullshit me, Okay? Do you have it?”

His dark eyes searched mine and I fought the urge to give in. He was like a tsunami that constantly threatened to drag me under. Every sense filled with him.

I used to give him everything. Until, he couldn’t do that same. I knew, I knew I couldn’t tell him the truth.

“No.”

“Your lying.” Yes.

“Let’s both stop pretending that you know everything about me.” I deflected, as I pushed him away from me.

Distance, I repeated in my head. Get some distance.

“Baby, we both know I do. The only one pretending here is you,” his lips widened in a harsh smile, one that threatened to eat me alive, “Now, tell me about the diary.”

“We don’t have it. Do I have to add deaf to the list along with psychotic and delusional?”

Rafe takes a threatening step forward causing me to take a step back. “I’m gonna ignore that comment.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact that we don’t have it.”

His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Your lying right now. You want to know how I know?”

Shoving his hands in his pants pockets, Rafe steps in front of me swarming me from all sides. “You pick at the skin on your nails.”

Closing my eyes briefly, my stomach sinks because he was right.

I hated it him. I hated how he knew every little thing about me. I hated how he weaponized my reaction towards him again and again.

“Step. Back.”

“No, your useless friends put you in this situation. I’m trying to get us out. Where’s the diary?”

At the mention of my friends, a fire of anger ignited inside me. “Don’t talk about them like that. At least, I have them. Who do you have? Barry?”

“Have them? Where were they when you got taken? Look where we fucking are.”

“They didn’t have a choice. It was my fault anyway.”

“Why are you defending them?” Rafe asked me, staring at me with such exasperation. “Because of them, you’ve been in so much shit. Look where you are right now. They’re low lives. Stop being delusional.“

“And what,” My voice shook with anger, “be with you instead? You think your such an upgrade? Last time I checked you’re a frat boy with a coke addiction riddled with daddy issues. How could you be any better than them?”

I hated the person he turned me into. I never liked hurting anyone and here I was hurling every insult I could at him. I was consumed with the need to hurt him just as bad as he hurt me.

“Is this some knew kind of foreplay? Because, if it is, it’s working.”

“That’s what you got from that?”

He sends me a bored look. “What else could it mean?”

“Um, exactly what I said.”

“I don’t get it.” Rafe had the audacity to actually look confused.

“You’re crazy. You have to be.”

He nodded his head like this mad perfect sense. “Well, yeah. For you. I thought I made that clear.”

“When? You were too busy lying to me.”

“This again?”

“Just sit down and shut up.” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’re already giving me a migraine.”

“I knew I still had an effect on you.”

“Not a good one.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

Ignoring his pretty words and charm was the only way I could survive this.

“Rafe, just stay on the side of the room and I’ll stay on mine. My friends are going to come so until then just keep to your damn side.”

He clenched and unclenched his hands as he regarded me. “And if they don’t come?”

“They will.” God, I hope so.

“So much faith in them.” Rafe said quietly, shaking his head in my direction before looking away. “Where’s your faith in me?”

“Gone. Kind of like your soul.”

I felt my pulse in my throat. His eyes turned brutal as he slowly traced his thumb along his bottom lip, almost assessing what he was going to do next.

He looked like he was going to eat me alive.

The ache in between my legs ignited again, the pulse almost unbearable.

“I can protect you.”

“Protect me? All you’ve ever done is hurt me.”

Rafe stared at me with humor as his eyebrows raised expectantly, “The only time I ever hurt you, is when you asked for it.”

Heat flashed into my cheeks. Flashbacks of my pleas for him to choke me and punish me hit me like a truck.

A frustrated noise left my lips as I grabbed a book from the dresser and threw it in his direction. “I hate you.”

No I don’t.

The humor left his blue eyes instantly as he clenched his jaw. “Watch it.”

“No. You think you can protect me?” I asked incredulously, my hands finding a remote next and I throw it at his head. “We’re in the same fucking room, Rafe.”

He side stepped the remote I threw at him easily, shaking his head. He begins to unbutton his suit jacket, his piercing blue eyes brewing a storm.

“I -“ I was momentarily distracted by him removing clothes. “Stop taking off your clothes.”

“You don’t hate me.”

He was insane. That’s what he chose to focus on?

“I do. I hate you. How many times do I have to say it for you to get it through your thick skull?”

The tension between us was stifling almost as thought there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room.

“Stop fucking saying that.” Rafe barked, his words rough dropping with a warning.

He undid his cuff links slowly, almost threateningly, like it was a count down for what’s to come.

My eyes narrowed at his threat. Anger and lust consumed me as I tried to fight off the urge to kiss him. Resentment wrapped around my throat.

He takes a step forward.

“Or what?” Gulping, I took a step back. My eyes looking around for something else to throw at his gorgeous face. “Are you gonna tell me you love me? And you think I’ll believe you?”

“I never lied about that.” His tone was almost condescending as he took another steps towards me.

My heart dipped as my blood ran hot and cold. Indecision filled me. This is what he does. He surrounded me, confused me, cornered me until all I could see was him.

“Stop trying to confuse me.” Another step back.

The way he looked at me sucked all the air out of my lungs. His eyes regarded me with such desire it burned me alive. I couldn’t look away.

“You know me. Look at me and tell me I’m lying.” Rafe’s words demanding yet soft.

Blue. His eyes fucking haunted me. I felt myself slowly giving way to the enigma that was Rafe Cameron.

Forcing my eyes away, I spotted a clock on the nightstand by the bed. I reached for it just as he moved towards me.

I pegged it at him. We both watched as the clock hit his chest with a thud and fell onto the floor with a plop.

“I know you enough to know that what you say doesn’t matter.”

He looked like he wanted to kiss me or strangle me. Probably the latter since he was a psychopath.

“This monologue is getting a bit repetitive, don’t you think?”

My gut twisted. “I hate you.”

I did sound like a broken record, but it was the only phrase that seemed to get a reaction out of him.

It was the only weapon I had as every other resolve I had was slowly deteriorating before me.

“Watch your mouth,” Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Don’t say it again.”

A distressed breathe left my lips. I wasn’t winning this deadly game of tug of war.

“Why?” I wanted to break him. I wanted him us to have matching scars. His soul didn’t get to be left unscathed while mine was covered in wounds that didn’t heal.

He was closing in on me at this point. His sleeves now rolled up to his elbows and the first few buttons undone revealing the gold necklace I gave him.

Why was he doing this to me?

My fingers grasp the decorative pillow from the bed as I target his head. “Because you know it’s true. At least the people in my life love me. They didn’t pretend to love me to find the gold. They didn’t leave me repeatedly.”

Slapping the pillow out of the way, he stood two feet away from me. “Leave you? You left me.” The words held no emotion, just cold hard facts.

I bring my hand to the side of my face as I shake my head at him in disbelief.

“You chose the gold. Not once, not twice, but three fucking times. You chose to lie to me. Again and again. So I may have left, but the minute you chose the gold over me was the moment you decided I was worth losing.”

I remember the last time I saw him clear as day. The cross was being pulled up by Pope on the crane when I saw a figure with a gun take off running in his direction.

My whole body froze as I took in the person behind the gun. We both regarded each other with shock. I felt my heart break for a second time as I realized how he got the cross.

His guilt ridden eyes stared at me as I realized just how stupid I had been. I begged him to come with us. To leave the cross that was about to fall off the boat and come with me. Tears were streaming down my face as I screamed for him to leave.

To finally choose me. To love me the way I loved him.

It felt like hours when he finally made his decision. And, it wasn’t me. Rafe took off running towards the chain that was tied to the cross as he screamed for help from the crew.

My heart broke for the third and final time. I don’t think I could survive a fourth.

A touch to my face pulled me out of the painful memory. Rafe’s in front of me now, towering above my dainty figure, his fingers grazing my cheek.

“Can you please just let me explain?”

Jerking back, I slapped his hand away from my face.

His eyes flashed,”What? Now I can’t even touch you.”

“I loved you.” I whispered the words causing him to tense. “But, I’m done. I’m so completely and utterly done with you.”

Anger radiated off him in waves and the sudden urge to step back overcame me. Only, when I did the back of my thighs hit the bed.

He’d cornered me into the direction of the bed.

“Loved?” He murmured, almost to himself.

Rafe runs his hand across his jaw, analyzing me slowly. Seeming to have made up his mind, he envelops my very space with his hand threading itself tightly within the roots of my hair at the nape of my neck.

Bending down to my height, his breath fans along my lips causing heat to surge through out my body. He was addictive.

“Just to be crystal fucking clear. You won’t ever be over me. This will never be over.”

Dread sat in my stomach like lead at the truth in his words. He knew it, I knew it. .

My eyes burned. My heart ached. All I knew, in that very moment, was I hated how much I loved him.

He was inevitable. The way we consumed each other was nothing short of catastrophic. We shined too bright that we burned each other.

“Don’t do this to me. Don’t you dare do this to me again.” I pleaded tearfully, begging for him to show an ounce of mercy.

Holding on to us was cruel. Rafe wasn’t going to change for me. He loved in his own way, but it was brutal, obsessive and mad. It was also intoxicating, intense, and painfully beautiful. It was too much.

I used to think I could handle it, because being with him was the only thing that made sense. He made me feel the sweetest high that sent me into a euphoric oblivion.

I thought my love was enough for him. Call me naive, but I wholeheartedly believed that I could help those broken parts of him heal. But Rafe was too broken. All the pieces of him I tried to carry in my arms only cut me in the process as I slowly bled out.

He had taken every piece of me with him. It was hard to tell where I ended and he began.

“Why are you wearing that necklace?” I asked him, the backs of my eyes burning. I needed him to say it. I needed him to tell me and actually mean it.

Rafe shook his head, his blue eyes were soul-wrenching. “You know why.”

My hands trembled as they connect with his shirt, griping the crisp material in desperation.

“Why are you wearing those cuff links?”

Why couldn’t he just say it?

When he didn’t respond to me, I felt the last bit of glue give way and my heart got devoured by grief.

I let go of his shirt. “You’re a coward. You’ve always been a coward.”

His eyes flickered with hurt but I didn’t care. Blind rage filled me and I pushed him. When he didn’t react, I did it again and again screaming out every morsel of pain that threatened to kill me.

It only lasted seconds. Rafe had enough and quickly caught both my wrists in his hands. His face was cruelly beautiful.

It mocked me.

“Calm down.” He ordered, his face a mask of cruel indifference. But, I knew him.

His eyes were filled with cold fury and by the slightly tremble from his body, I knew he was close to losing control.

“I fucking hate you.” I spat the words out vehemently. I watched as the words hit him square in the chest.

He sent me a wolffish grin. “I warned you.”

Rafe shoves me onto the bed trying to pin my squirming body down but I refuse to comply. I try to leverage my legs to buck his heavy body off of me but he only smacks my thigh causing me to suck in a breath.

“Let me go.” The heat of his body seared into me. He smelled like sin and regret.

“Stop fucking fighting me,” Rafe responded with a grunt.

I could feel light coat of sweat start to cover my body, the silk of the dress rubbed against my skin only making the throbbing worse. I kicked my leg out but my dress only slipped further up my body, my thigh now fully exposed.

Rafe’s eyes clocked the newly exposed skin. His distraction bought me enough time shove his shoulders back causing him to stagger.

Pulling my body up, I tried to crawl off the bed but shriek when familiar hands clamped onto my ankles and dragged me back down the bed.

“God, you asshole.”

He ignored me and straddled my hips, his legs pinning me in place. My heart pulsed against my rib cage.

“I’m the asshole? You’ve been throwing shit at me for the past ten minutes.”

Glaring at him, I jerk my arm free with the full intention of slapping him when Rafe catches my hand.

“Stop trying to hit me.” He growled, his patience gone. With rough hands, he grabbed both my wrists and pinned them above my head in one hand. The other gripped my chin tightly, forcing my eyes to his volatile memorizing blues.

“Now that I have your attention. Take it back.” Rafe breathed out harshly.

He waited for me to answer but the words never left my lips. Instead, my entire focus was on the rigid mass of muscles that were pressed against my body.

My dress had entirely pooled at my waist, the lace black thong I wore peaked out from under.

Rafe leaned down and moved his grip on my chin up slightly so my lips pursed out in a pout.

His swipe his tongue against my pouty lips before placing a soft kiss along them. “Take it back.”

The small act made my body feel like it was on fire and the desire to arch my back and beg for more was overwhelming.

The evidence of our struggle was resting hard against my stomach. Desire filled my mouth but I couldn’t let him see that. I tried to jerk my head out of his grasp but he tsked.

Maneuvering his body slightly, he rested himself in between my legs. Slowly reaching in between us, the tough calloused hand I loved having around my throat trailed along my thigh, curling around my knee and hooking it across his waist.

“Oh god…” I couldnt control the whimper that escaped me. My body was wired tight with anticipation at the familiar rush of want threatened to drown me.

His hand trailed back, the bits of his nails scraping along my naked thighs. They catch the waistband of my thong where he teasingly slips a finger underneath.

“I can feel how hot your pussy is.” The words were rough against my lips. “We’re so good together. All you have to do, is take it back.”

“No.” Yes.

His chuckle was throaty almost hoarse as he trembled with barely there restraint. “That fucking mouth.”

Rafe allowed his open palm to travel up my navel, the roughness of his hand contradicting the silk of the dress.

“Please.” I was weak, I was so incredibly weak. I was a trembling mass of limbs under him just at his touch.

The palm of his hand finally trails up between the valley of breasts before curling around my throat tightening possessively.

“Take. It. Fucking. Back.” He emphasized each word with a hot kiss to my lips.

I clamped my eyes shut willing for him to disappear. What do you do when your worst nightmare is also the love of your life?

I felt his forehead rest against mine, his breath heavy against my own. “Don’t say that to me. Say whatever the hell you want, but not that. Never that.”

I slowly opened my eyes. Deep pools of glacial blue stare back at me overwhelmingly beautiful and gloriously mad.

“I didn’t mean it.” The words were spoken softly, barley above a whisper.

Rafe closed his eyes briefly in relief. “You drive me insane.”

A giggle erupted from my chest at the irony of his words because I’m almost certain he’s clinically psychotic. At the sound of my laughter, he opens his eyes and sends me a soft smile that relaxed all the harsh lines in his face.

Lifting a hand to his face, my finger tips slowly smooth out the stressed lines along his eyes.

“My head.”

“What?” I asked letting my hand finally run through the buzzed hair on his scalp, goosebumps erupt on my skin at the thought of it in between my legs.

“It’s finally quiet.”

My hand froze at his honesty and my heart ached for him. The same heart that has now decided to throw all reason outside the window.

I just wanted this pain to go away even for a few moments. He always had the ability to take it away even if he was the one causing it.

I tugged him down gently and he followed me with ease. “Rafe?”

“Yeah, baby?” His eyes darted to my lips.

“Did you miss me?”

A rumble left his chest. “Fuck, I missed you.”

My heart soared at his confession. I dragged the tips of my nails down the curve of his jaw and trail down his throat making him freeze.

At the sight of the familiar gold chain that decorated his neck, my legs clenched around him.

Even apart, he always kept me with him.

Not bothering to look up, I leaned forward with one finger grasping the chain that hit my chest while my lips placed an open mouth kiss along the curve of his neck.

I caught the chain between my lips humming to myself, completely entranced by him. Rafe balled the sheet in his grip by my head but it wasn’t enough. I needed to get it out of him.

Running my nose along the side of his neck inhaling deeply, my tongue slips out gently applying pressure as I drag it up his neck slowly.

Reaching the curve of his jaw, I peppered open mouth kisses like I would his lips. My blood drummed through my ears and need entered my bloodstream.

“Will you fucking kiss me already?” Rafe said gruffly, nipping at my lip.

He stared at me with half lidded eyes, his pupils blown out wide in arousal. “What do I get if I do?”

The filthy smile he shot me was filled with sin.

“I’ll fuck you dumb. Just how you like it.” He put his lips to my ear, the promise in his voice had me shivering in anticipation.

Tilting my head up, I smashed my lips to his causing him to let out a groan of relief. Our kiss was messy and desperate after so much time apart, our teeth clashed as we fought for dominance.

Rafe took over the kiss practically inhaling my very breath as his tongue brushed against mine. His fingers biting into the tops of my thighs as I tilted my hips up against his, desperate for friction.

Pulling back slightly, Rafe’s hand grips my chin roughly forcing my lips into a pout. Breathing harshly, he leaned forward and licked my pursed lips before kissing me again.

Capturing my tongue between his lips, he sucks on the muscle causing me to let out a soft whimper. We separated, our eyes lock on each other filled with lust, both of us breathing hard and accepting our fate.

“You gonna be good for me?”

The ache between my legs was almost painful as I nodded my head at him, begging with my eyes.

Rafe’s hands moved to my waist in seconds has he gathered the scrunched fabric and ripped over my head, leaving me in my black lace thong and nothing else.

His eyes darkened with each passing second as he stared at my body. I leaned back on the palms of my hands and arched my back in invitation.

Rafe traced the curves of my body with his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. His eyes never left my body as he took in every detail.

He looked starved.

Impatiently, I tugged at his shirt and started fumbling with the buttons. Finally the shirt gave way as I pushed it off his shoulders, my hands coming in contact with his built chest, smooth and firm.

His muscles flexed under my touch as I became mesmerized by his body. He had gotten bigger than before, his arms now bulging with muscles.

My fingers trailed down his tight pecs to his abdomen where I let one finger trail along each chiseled ab, my mouth salivating at the thought of tasting each bit of skin.

My breath started coming out in pants. Those blue eyes gleamed at my obvious attraction and the smirk on his lips said enough. His cheeks dusted slightly with pink at my burning undivided attention.

My hand dipped between us to the tent in his slacks and I slowly pressed my palm against the hard bulge. Rafe let out a relieved sigh as his hips pushed against my hand for more pressure.

“Rafe..” I let out a needy whine. The only coherent thought I could form was that I need him inside me.

“Hmm?”

“I want it now.”

He chuckled at my words, licking his lips slowly as he trailed his open palm up my abdomen towards my breasts. Cupping my breast in his hand, he gave it a squeeze before flicking the nub.

My eyes closed tightly, relishing at how his large hands gripped me. His mouth latched onto the hard nub forcing a gasp from me as he sucks and teasingly swipes his tongue around in circles.

He switches his attention to the other causing me to throw my head back in appreciation. My hands held on his head as I pulled him closer to my chest.

Brining his lips back to mine, Rafe nips at my jaw before dragging soft kisses down the size of my neck. I could feel my core start to clench on nothingness due to the level of sensitivity my body was wired on.

His lips latch onto my neck, as he pulled my skin into his mouth, sucking harshly. His hands kneaded into the globes of my ass as he left his mark on my body.

Examining his handy work, Rafe placed small kisses on the several hickeys I knew he left on my neck.

Nothing he did was ever on accident. This I knew he did for a reason, to prove the one point I tried to deny.

We were so good together.

“I’m going to eat you fucking alive.” Harsh words were rasped against my lips as his fingers dipped to my waist, curling around the ribbon of my thong before tugging roughly. The straps gave way as he tore my panties off, quickly tucking them into his pocket.

Now completely bare, Rafe’s fingers dancing across my smooth mound. Unconsciously, my legs opened further at the feeling of his cold rings against my pulsating pussy.

Fuck, those rings.

He glided a single digit along the slit dipping it in between when a low pained moan left his lips.

“You’re dripping on the mattress.”

I didn’t give myself the chance to be embarrassed at his words because the way he was looking at me had me breathless. My brain was blank. Not one explanation came to mind other than him.

He did this to me.

Rafe slips another finger in, the evidence of my arousal being used as lubricant against my clit.

Cursing, he moves off the bed and grabs my hips, tugging me to the edge of the bed where he kneels. Forcing my legs open further, his breathe hits my lips and I can’t hide the tremble in my legs.

His thick ring covered fingers slowly rub my lips before dipping in, separating them slowly in the shape of a ‘V’ opening me up completely under his greedy gaze.

Rafe pushes a finger in, meeting no resistance, and I can feel myself immediately clench around him.

A moan slipped out as he slowly began to thrust in and out while his thumb ghosted along my clit. Slipping another finger in, he begins to pick up his pace, the only sounds to be heard are the squelching of my juices and his hard grunts.

It was obscene how loud the wet noises were but he was eating it up.

Flicking my nub with his thumb, he curled his fingers making me cry out in pleasure. Pulling them out, Rafe finally leans down and drags his tongue from ass to clit.

Prying my lips open, Rafe sticks his tongue indices of me, thrusting in and out. He hummed against my clit, pulling them between his lips and sucking harshly.

“Fuck you for leaving me. I could have had this every day but you took it away from me.” To anyone else, I knew that came off as mean and probably extremely aggressive. But, I knew what he actually meant.

That translated to, I missed you.

My legs were wrapped around his head with my back arched as I rutted my hips against his face. His fingers, which were drenched in my slick, trailed up my stomach and onto my breasts covering me in my juices.

It only made me burn more.

I began to convulse under his brutal assault of my pussy and my nerves were shot. “Oh god, oh god.” I gasped as my fingers dragged along his scalp.

He hand successfully pinned me down by his forearms as he continued to lap at my lips. Rafe circled my clit with his tongue, prodding at it again and again in a relentless assault. Not giving me a moment to breath, he softly bits on the nub at the same time he slams to fingers into me.

A wave of pleasure hits my body and my toes curl in ecstasy with my eyes slammed shut. I could feel myself gushing onto his face as his name comes out in loud chants.

A warm flush passes through my body as I slump against the bed, exhausted. A languid sigh leaves my mouth as I try to catch my breath.

Rafe presses one long kiss against my pussy, his fingers forming a ‘v’ once more to watch as I dripped onto the mattress. I could feel the wetness under my ass but didn’t dare move.

“So fucking pretty.”

Rafe stood up from between my legs and towered over me with dark eyes.

Holy fuck.

Spit and my arousal dripped from chin, his entire mouth and nose glistening from my juices.

His eyes never moved from mine as he lazily began to undo his belt with one hand. Tugging it off his waist, he tossed it to the ground before he began to unzip his pants.

Rafe stepped out of his pants and underwear leaving him completely naked. I had remind myself to properly breathe.

His dark hooded eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

He gripped his hard and heavy cock in one hand letting out a groan. Tilting his head back slightly, he lazily tugged at his cock making my pussy pound with need.

He looked like a Greek god with his head thrown back like that in pleasure.

“Are you fucking me or what?” There was a bite to my words.

Rafe narrowed his eyes at me before languidly stroking his cock a few more times. “Don’t get pissy.”

I opened my mouth to argue then shut it closed as he came into the bed, spreading my legs wide open.

“Look at me.”

My eyes darted up and connected with his darkened blue orbs. Without breaking eye contact, Rafe gathered saliva in his mouth and spits directly onto my pussy while his hands pinned me open.

My chest heaved up on down at the action, making me feel so filthy. He brings the tip to my slit and slaps it gently against my sensitive engorged lips.

A pained whine escaped me at his teasing.

“Someone’s needy.” He mused.

Leaning forward, he slowly pushed in cursing under his breath. My legs were shaking as I furrowed my eyes brows at the intrusion.

I felt full as my eyes glossed over the more he pushed his hips in. I didn’t remember him stretching and making me feel this full.

“Rafe, I dont think-“

“I used to fuck you in the shower, the car, in the fucking boat. You can take me, baby.” He murmured against my lips, taking my bottom lip in between his teeth and tugged gently. “You used to sit on my cock and keep me warm.”

He slides another inch, my cunt sucking him in. I could feel every ridge of his thick hard cock against my quivering walls.

“That’s it. Fuck, you’re taking me so good.” Rafe praised, his hands dancing along my thighs in a loving caress.

I felt myself clench at his words and a wave a clinginess hit me. Mewling for contact, Rafe reads my face with satisfaction as leans over me, giving me the closeness I needed.

My nails dig into his shoulders as he sinks into me further, causing my mouth to open and close like a fish out of water.

I momentarily forgot how to breathe. He completely bottoms out inside me drawing a loud moan from my lips.

“Such a good girl for me,” Rafe muttered, pressing soft kisses along my face. “Your pussy remembers exactly who owns it.”

He let out a deep groan in my ear causing goosebumps to appear. He was so fucking vocal, he knew how to kill me.

“I’m the only one that fucks you the way you need to be fucked, right?”

I ignored the questions, instead focusing my attention on the feel of his cock twitching inside me.

Rafe pulls out before slamming back into me, a scream leaving my lips as my back arched in pleasure.

“Fucking answer me.”

I could barely hear him over the pounding of my ears.

He begins to rut into me, each thrust echoing with sopping wet sounds. My walls quivered and pulsated around his dick.

Slowing down his pace, he pushes my thighs up, folding me in half before slamming into me again. The tip of his dick brushes my cervix making my eyes roll to the back of my head as I gasped for breath.

Rafe’s pace is brutal as he savagely fucks me into the mattress. A choked sob left my mouth as I dug my nails deeper into his skin.

The sound is skin hitting skin echos in the room making me clench even harder. My upper thighs were soaked with my slick and his spit, making the noise all the more dirty.

“Tell me I’m the only one that fucks you like this.”

A gargled noise left my lips as my brain began to short circuit. He only pounded into me harder at my lack of response.

I could only focus on the ceiling as I gasped for my breath.

“You think JJ can get you to forget how fucking breathe?”

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

My eyes were blown wide and my mind completely blank as I mumbled incoherently under him.

“How about Pope? Does he know how to get you break?”

He harshly spat the words, punctuating each sentence with a pistoled thrust. I was a mindless mess under him. My eyes rolled to the back of my head with my mouth dropped open.

“You’re a fucking freak. They don’t know how to handle you. But, I do.”

He needed to stop talking before I blacked out.

Letting go of my legs he tried to move back, but I immediately wrapped them around his waist, wanting to be as close as two people could.

I was a desperate whining mess as I begged him for more.

Roughly grabbing my chin in between his two fingers, his eyes laced with heat. “Open your mouth.”

With wide eyes, my mouth slowly opens and my tongue slides out. Rafe places his mouth over mine before spitting directly onto my tongue all the while slowly thrusting in and out of my gummy walls.

Moving back, he stared at me through half lidded eyes. “Swallow it.”

My brain had turned to mush at this point. I blinked at him before I swallowed his spit, humming under his heated gaze.

“Missed that pretty mouth.”

I clamped down on him at his words. I blushed under his gaze. Rafe dipped his head, connecting our lips, licking his way into my mouth.

Suddenly, I feel him pull out of me causing me to whine in protest at the loss. His hands grabbed my hips in a brutal grip before turning me over onto my stomach.

He tried lifting my hips into position but they were shaking so intensely that I couldn’t hold them up.

“My legs-“ I gasped out gulps of air with my face resting onto the sheets, my hands gripping the sheets into tight balls.

“Come on, baby. Don’t you want to be good for me? Hold up your legs.” He cooed in my ear.

At his demand, I somehow found the strength to push myself up, arching my back as far as I could with my legs shaking.

A guttural groan erupts from his chest as I feel him separate my ass cheeks. Sinking back into me, Rafe begins to truly fuck me into oblivion.

His pace is animalistic, not stopping once. “I’m in your fucking stomach.” He spoke through gritted teeth, his grunts filling the room.

One of his hands trailed up my spine before wrapping itself around the nape of my neck, threading his fingers into my hair and pinned me down.

My cries were muffled into the sheets as he’s grip on my neck tightened possessively.

“Had-Harder, Rafe. Please, please please.” I was babbling on and on with pleads.

He was fucking me so hard I’m almost certain he left an imprint. My eyes began to water from overstimulation as he kept bottoming out against my cervix.

I could slowly start to feel myself spasming against his dick, with each glide and thrust. His hands now holding my hips in a punish grip, sure to leave bruises.

It was too much. I kept forgetting how to breathe and found myself slowly becoming light headed from the pleasure.

Tears began to fall and soak the sheets bellow me as I cried out with whimpers. Choked sobs loudly leave my mouth at him roughly pulling back before grinding back into me.

“You’re so pretty when you cry.”

I went stupid.

He fucked me relentlessly, his palms messaging the fat of my ass before slapping it. Reaching between us, his fingers circle my clit, causing sharp hiss to leave me.

My legs gave out beneath me as tears continued to leak. Rafe didn’t care, instead he continued to piston into me muttering words of praise.

The tightness in my stomach began to build, my toes curling in anticipation. “Oh god. I’m-“

I couldn’t finish my words as my mind went compelled numb, a hot flash a white bursting behind my eye lids. A wave I’ve pleasure snapped as I wailed out his name.

I withered underneath him before my body went completely limp, warm with satisfaction.

He never slowed down. Rafe continued to fuck me through my orgasm as I whined and incoherently begged for more.

I gushed all over his legs, half dazed and mindless.

“W-wanna see your face.” I begged him numbly, needing to see his face when he finished.

“Whatever you want.” Rafe flipped me onto my back before pushing into me once more.

The intrusion has me throwing my head back where he grunted as he dragged his tongue along the side of my exposed neck.

I sobbed to myself. I could taste the salt on my lips and I knew my mascara was running down my cheeks.

My head lolled to the side, my eyes half shut as I stared at him. His neck was tight, and his body tense as him pace began to pick up speed. A new sense of vigour filled him as he rutted into me.

“Rafe, I-I want it.” The words were reckless, but he fucked all my braincells gone.

He was hitting me so deeply, you could see the bulge slightly through my stomach.

A groan ripped out of his mouth, his eyes finding mine. He looked drunk. Drunk off of me.

“You want my cum, baby?”

I nodded stupidly.

“I knew you could take it. Such a good fucking girl for me. So good to me.”

Rafe leaned down and hungrily kissed me, our lips clashing against each other. I panted into his mouth as he rocked into me again and again.

He pulled out before slamming himself back in again and again, grunting and moaning as he fucked the life out of me.

“I’m gonna come inside this pretty pussy.” He grunted against my lips, “I’m gonna fill you up.”

My arms wrapped themselves around his head, forcing his forehead against mine. My eyes stayed on his as I slowly lifted my hips and rocked them against his.

His thrusts begin to stutter as I whispered dirty little nothings to him. I couldn’t control the desire that had me pressing open mouth kisses along his face.

I licked and lapped at his mouth, kissing him roughly.

Rafe began to moan loudly, sweat dripped down the side of his face but I caught it with my tongue.

“Fucking brat.” He cursed out, pinning me down by my throat, the cool metal of his rings soothing my burning skin.

My hand held onto his that was on my throat to serve as some sort of anchor. He took his other hand and wiped my tears across my face, making more of a mess.

“I knew you’d cry for me.”

Rafe clenched his jaw in pleasure before throwing his head back and letting out a loud moan.

Planting himself deeply inside me, I gasped and clamped down on him and in seconds he filled me with his cum.

My body was exhausted as I lazily stared up at him, a small smile of satisfaction decorating my lips.

Wincing as he slowly pulled out of me, I could feel his seed slowly leak out of me and onto the bed.

Rafe caught the slick arousal with his finger and slowly dipped it back inside of me causing me to hiss due to the over-sensitivity.

I watched him through tired eyes, catching his hand into mine and brought it to my face.

His hand curled along my jaw as he wiped the remaining tears away with his thumb. Rafe stared at me with open infatuation as he traced my eyes, then my nose, and finally my lips with his fingers.

“You’ll never be over me.”

At his words, I felt a pang hit my chest that painfully curled around my heart.

His words were cruel, but true.

He wasn’t good for me. In fact, he was my own personal demon that caused all sort of pain in my life time and time again.

Rafe brought me to life. A spark inside me, that I didn’t know existed, ignited. I ached for his attentions and became quickly addicted. His charm and smile lured me into his web of lies and manipulation, and never let me out.

Instead, I threw myself deeper into his web and wrapped myself around his bed of lies. His darkness became my darkness and I accepted every ugly piece of him.

His presence was overwhelming that at times I found it hard to breathe and hard to think. He made me loose my sanity. My very existence had circled around one thing: Rafe.

I would never get over him because he was in my fucking bloodstream.

“I hate you.” My words were weak at best, softly spoken. I stared at him openly hurt, my face shattered as the reality of our situation sets in.

Rafe mirrors my expression, “No, you don’t.”

So I ask you again, what do you do when the monster from your nightmares is also the love of your life?

——————————

Side note: they are fucking F-R-E-A-K-S. He’s so hot I cant even. This is going to be part one of a two part series!!! Please let me know what you think:)

#obx smut #outerbanks imagine #obx #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe angst #rafe x reader #rafe smut #rafe obx #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron angst #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #outer banks season 3 #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction

[aperrywilliams]

Pandora’s Box (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer gets called for work on his day off while having breakfast with his wife. He doesn’t know this day will end worse than he thought.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Mention to prison. Mention of kidnapping. Cat Adams. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: Written for this request. Two parts: this is the angsty one (sorry). How should Spencer make it up to Reader?

Part II

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Reader's POV

I always knew Spencer's job had its quirks. Granted, being an FBI agent is a dangerous job, and with my husband, this statement tends to be yet worse. Spencer has been kidnapped, drugged, shot in the knee, shot in the neck, framed for murder, incarcerated, and so on.

But after everything we've been through, one would expect things to settle down over time. Is it too much to ask?

I knew what was coming when the damn cell phone chimed that morning. It was Spencer's day off, and we had decided to go for breakfast at our favorite coffee shop since I had the day off too. It was rare we could match in our free time, and since we had both been very busy with our jobs, we wanted to enjoy that day.

Spencer gave me an apologetic look before answering the call.

"Reid," he spoke dryly. He wasn't happy about the interruption either.

While Pelenope surely told Spencer he should go to Quantico as soon as possible, I just stared at him—a glint of anticipated disappointment in my eyes.

"I'm so sorry," Spencer said, confirming my suspicions.

"Don't be. I know how it works." My answer was not reproachful, nor did I want to make him feel bad; instead, it was to clarify that I comprehended and accepted how our life's dynamic goes. "Don't worry, baby. I'm going to my dad's today and staying there. He's been asking me when I would have a sleepover with him," I commented. I knew Spencer would feel less guilty if I didn't spend too much time alone.

"Okay. That's good. And I promise I'll make it up to you," Spencer stated, getting up from his chair before planting an affectionate kiss on my forehead.

Don't make promises you can't keep, I thought.

Here is the thing. Spencer has good intentions, but time isn't on our side lately, so I only hoped we could have a chance to get at least a day to spend together with no interruptions upon his return.

After leaving the coffee shop, I stopped by the apartment to grab some clothes and headed to my dad's.

My dad greeted me in a tight embrace at the front door.

"I thought you would spend your day off with Spencer?" He asked once we parted from our hug.

I knew he was picturing a bad scenario. I'm not keen on sharing my marriage issues with my father, but he could tell there was something.

"Uh. Well. Spencer got called from work," I explained. My dad hummed, not saying anything. I regretted how I worded it because I hate portraying Spencer as the bad guy.

"What?" I asked.

"Everything is okay? I mean, between you and Spencer?" My dad questioned, concerned.

"Yeah. We are fine. Don't worry about us. Come on inside; you promised me movies and hot cocoa," I smiled at him, lacing my arm with his and heading inside the house.

-

Spencer's POV

Cat Adams. That name only means disaster. I should have known that. This time I hoped she only had ruined my day off with my wife- something a little more bearable than being framed for murder and incarcerated.

Arriving at Quantico, Prentiss and Rossi explained to me what had happened. Cat's associate kidnaped a family and demanded the release of Cat Adams.

Really she thought that could be possible?

Emily told me they were bringing her in a few hours and that I should talk to her.

I didn’t know if I was ready to do that, but a family was in danger. I had to.

She looked so pleased to see me that I felt nauseous, and my mind flew to Milburn. She knew what she was doing, but I needed to control myself and have the upper hand somehow.

My entire demeanor changed when she voiced her demand: a date with me.

The mention of a 'date' with Cat Adams sounded twisted and insufferable. But not going could have been a mistake. Cat knew I wouldn't refuse, not after she said my wife's safety was in danger too.

Frantically I left the room to dial (Y/N)’s number, and it went straight to voicemail. She never turns off her phone. I called her dad, and he said she left the house for a job emergency without explaining too much.

I looked at Emily, who had already told Garcia to track my wife's location. Minutes later, Penelope told us she wasn't at her workplace and was nowhere to find. Her phone's signal went dead after she left her dad's house.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I didn’t know how, but Cat had her.

Rushing inside the room where Cat was, I slammed the table, demanding my wife's location. Cat, of course, laughed in my face.

"I guess now no one could interrupt our date," she dared with a smug grin.

Against all my judgment, I agreed to a plan I wasn't even sure about.

-

Reader's POV

After Milburn, we talked with Spencer about the real danger we can be exposed to as a couple realizing the kind of job he had. Not that we didn't discuss it before, but the threat became real after that. We had a plan: if something happened, he would contact me directly - or through someone from the team - and if the communication could be compromised, I should get rid of my phone and not tell anybody my location.

When my phone rang that afternoon, we were watching a movie with my dad on the couch. I stood and answered in the hall. A sternly Spencer spoke: "This is an emergency. Met me at my old apartment. There is a key under the mat. Get rid of the phone and not tell anyone. Don't open the door to anyone, and wait for me there."

When I was about to ask what had happened, the call ended. I doubted for a moment. Spencer sounded so out of himself, but after what he had been through, I knew his job could stress him like that. So I just did what I was told.

I lied to my dad, telling him I had a job emergency, and left.

In my mind, I ran through all the possibilities, and none helped me stay calm. Everything could go wrong, like when Spencer went to Mexico without telling me.

Arriving at the apartment, I noticed the key was under the mat, as Spencer told me.

We always talked about what to do with his old place. Since we married, we got a new home, and Spencer rented his apartment. It happened that the last couple who rented it left a month ago, and we were still looking for a new tenant.

The place was almost empty. But still, some of Spencer's old books remained on the shelves. I took one to pass the time until Spencer could arrive. I didn't have my phone, so the only thing I could do was wait.

-

Spencer's POV

The last thing I thought I would do was ice skating with the woman who framed me for murder and kidnapped my mom and now my wife. Cat enjoyed every minute of my torture, and I just wanted to end it. My mind ran fast to catch any lead that could help me, but Cat knew me better. I don’t like to say it, but she, indeed, knew me better.

"So, I wasn't shocked when I discovered you married to that girl. I was shocked, though, knowing how neglected you have had her," she said casually, doing spins on the ice.

"You don't know what you are saying," I scoffed, trying to sound calm, but I hated how she dared to talk about (Y/N) and me.

"Don't I? So you will tell me you haven't canceled dates or left her for cases very often? That isn't good, Spencie, nothing good," Cat mocked.

I didn't want to give in that much, but how the hell this woman always managed to get under my skin? It's not that I wasn't aware of my messy schedule, but we always agreed with (Y/N) that it was my job, and she understood. Lately, though, things have been getting worse in that matter, and on that, Cat had a point.

When we married, I promised (Y/N) to slow down my job rhythm. After Milburn, I thought I had had enough, and it was time to focus on my life. It worked initially, but as the honeymoon phase ended, I did not slow down and even started overworking myself.

Everything I have been doing in the past months seemed like a stupid decision that had (Y/N) in danger because of my job now. If something terrible happened to her, I would never forgive myself.

“I know you’re waiting for me to slip a clue. But you will not get anything if you don’t show me your old apartment,” Cat demanded.

Now I was utterly confused. Why Cat wanted that?

The thing with Cat is always this way. She has a secret agenda you can’t decipher until it’s too late. I was afraid of that, but not giving up on her demands would put people in danger. I hadn’t an option.

“Why did you marry, anyway? You know you can be with anyone,” Cat spoke as we were being driven in the van. I snapped my head up. Cat shrugged. “What? I am right. Your job is everything to you, Spencie. Don’t lie to yourself; you can’t have a normal life. Not when we know we are so alike.”

“You don’t know anything. I love my wife,” I stated. Cat scoffed.

“I know enough. Tell me, does your wife know where you are now? Does she knows you are with me?” She asked, looking at me intensely. I averted my gaze. Cat was right, but her reasoning was wrong. I don’t like to tell (Y/N) much about my job because it’s not fair to put that burden on her. Not after we have been through. It’s not a matter of trust.

We got to the building and got out of the van. Cat took my arm as armed FBI agents escorted us—a show worth seeing, and I just wanted to forget.

Arriving at the apartment door, I took out my keys to open the lock, but before doing so, Cat stopped me.

“Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“That you love your wife?”

“Of course I do!” I replied, exasperated.

“Show me,” she demanded. But I didn’t understand what she was asking. My confusion was evident. “Show me how you love her. Kiss me the way you would kiss her,” Cat requested. My eyes widened.

“What? No! I will not do that.”

“You will. If you want to see your wife and that family alive again, you will,” she retorted.

I was about to lose my patience. In the last three hours, Cat had just made me go in circles. But I knew what she could do, and I was terrified that her threats would come true.

I took a deep breath before leaning to kiss her. I knew it was wrong, but I just wanted to end this night and find my wife and the missing family. Before my lips reached hers, Cat stopped me.

“I told you, Spencie. Do it like I’m her. Make it good. I will know if you are pretending,” she warned.

Fuck. What a twisted mind.

I gathered my composure, and I tried to imagine that it was (Y/N) in front of me and not Cat. I cupped her cheeks, the way I like to do with (Y/N), and leaned again. This time with no hesitation. It had to look real.

-

Reader's POV

I heard a commotion outside; I couldn't determine who was talking in the hallway. I froze in the spot, my eyes fixed on the entrance door. Then I noticed the handle turning and the door opening wide.

What I saw made my brain stop working.

Spencer was on the threshold kissing a woman.

Did I say kissing? Scratch that. He was devouring her mouth. And they were enjoying it, I could tell. She was the one who ended the kiss, and I swore I saw Spencer follow her lips for more. The woman turned to see me. Then Spencer noticed I was inside, witnessing how he- my husband - kissed a woman that wasn't me. His eyes widened, leaving his grasp on the woman's cheeks to walk to me.

“(Y/N)? What- what are you doing here? I thought you- that she has-" he stuttered.

I can't tell if it was for nerves, shock, or the fact he had been caught. It didn't matter, though. I was not in a condition to say anything. I just stood there, looking like a kicked puppy. I hated it.

“Fuck!” He cursed as if he had realized what was going on. The problem was I didn’t know anything, and my mind ran with the worst scenery possible.

"Ups," the girl teased. That's when I truly focused on her. I knew this woman. I'm sure I did. Then it hit me. Cat Adams? Seriously?

"What is this?" I barely articulated, shifting my gaze between Spencer and Cat.

"I - I thought she had kidnapped you! She did it with a family. I was so worried," Spencer explained, reaching to grab my hands, which I snatched away. I didn't feel like being touched by him, not after what I saw.

"I can tell you were worried," I spat. Cat started laughing.

"She has quite a sense of humor. I like her," Cat commented, looking between Spencer and me.

Oh, she was enjoying this. And my rational self told me it was better to shut up until I could understand what all about was, but my emotional side got to win this time.

"And you wanted me here for this? Your urgent case was about her? Jeez, Spencer, I thought you were done with this psycho," I pointed, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Oh, darling. You should know by now that Spencer is obsessed with me. How do you explain what you saw? He was kissing the same woman who got him in jail for three months. Maybe it's a kind of Stockholm, who knows," Cat taunted, shrugging like she was clueless. My eyes shot daggers at her. It was infuriating how her words echoed in my brain.

"(Y/N), don't listen to her. She is playing games right now. She wants you mad," Spencer tried to explain. And maybe he was right. But the smug look on her only fueled my anger. I didn't want to snap, though.

"Yeah, you can tell yourself that if it makes you happy," I deadpanned. Cat chuckled.

“Uh-oh. That sounds like jealousy to me.”

"Stop it! Cat, where is the family?" Spencer grabbed her arm suddenly. Her smug smile never faded.

"Easy, Spencie. What are you going to do? Throw me against a wall again?"

What? When did that happen?

Spencer's face went pale as his eyes met mine.

"Ouch. Someone didn't know that," Cat teased. I didn't know what face I had, but Spencer left the grip of Cat's arm and turned to me. "You should tell her, Spencie. She won't believe me if I do."

"You did what?" I asked in disbelief.

When Spencer was about to say something, Luke rushed inside.

"We got them!"

Them? What the fuck was happening?

"Now that's when we were having fun! Not fair!"

Cat pouted with dissatisfaction.

Spencer's eyes never left mine, pleading for me not to jump and hit him - or her.

"Take her out," he sternly told Luke, who rushed to do so.

"It was nice to meet you, (Y/N). Hope Spencer can tell you more of our story,” she taunted before crossing the threshold. Luke took the precaution of closing the door behind them, leaving with Cat and the other FBI field agents.

And just like that, we were alone with Spencer. Cat wasn't in the apartment anymore, but her words and presence remained heavy in the air.

Spencer’s hands were shaking, and they tried to reach mine again. I didn’t let him, though, as I stepped back.

It was all so confusing. And even if there were a logical explanation for this, the nerves and the anger were too much to try to understand.

“(Y/N), baby. I can explain. It was a trap. Cat orchestrated the whole thing, and I didn’t notice her real intentions until now. You have to believe me,” Spencer sputtered, faster than I had seen him speak in a long time. I shook my head.

“You called me. You told me we were in danger and asked me to come here, Spencer,” I tried to reason with him. He did this; why?

Spencer’s eyes widened.

“No, no, no. No! I did not. I don’t know how it happened, but I didn’t call you. It wasn’t me. I thought you were kidnapped! Cat told me if I didn’t do what she wanted, she would hurt you!”

I scoffed.

“How convenient that sounds, uh?”

Spencer sighed. He didn’t know what to say, and honestly, I didn’t have the energy to help him.

“(Y/N), please. You can ask the team. Penelope tried to track your location. I called your dad! It’s all a misunderstanding.”

I felt bad for Spencer. He looked exhausted, and he was likely telling the truth. But that wasn't enough to erase the image of my husband kissing Cat Adams. That qualifies as cheating, right?

I wanted to slap him across the face. Fucking Spencer Reid!

“A misunderstanding? Not a biggie, right?”

I hated feeling like this, but I couldn't help it. The more Spencer tried to explain, the more my blood boiled. Was I being unfair to him? Maybe. But after months of his work interfering in our lives, I was already fed up. This was the last straw.

"I didn't mean it like it wasn't important. Can we please talk about this more calmly at home?"

No, we can not, I wanted to say.

"Before your phone rings again and you must leave on another case?"

Shit, that just came out of my mouth.

“(Y/N)…” Spencer started to speak, but I cut him off. It wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have right now.

“You know what? I think it’s better we take a break for this night. I’m going to my dad’s. He must have been worried after I left,” I said, trying to contain my shaky voice. I grabbed my purse and walked to the door.

Spencer stared after me, pleading with his eyes for me not to leave. I decided to ignore it. I needed to think and cool my head. I believe this is the wake-up call I feared might happen. Maybe Cat Adams had opened another Pandora's box tonight.

Part II

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

Spencer Reid’s Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19  @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @thebloomingeagle @pauline5525mgg @maltamurdock @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @chlochlosworld @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @miaxx03 @leahblackk

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfictions #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfics #pandora’s box

[hazashiovo]

I wonder, do you have any headcanons in mind for jealous Kuvira with her s/o (like if some random person flirts with them while she is watching)?

Jealous Kuvira? Oh yes 😉

Kuvira as a person is composed,in many situations she knows how to control herself,but when a random person starts making advances on her s/o? Yeah no.

In this scenario,it's one of her soldiers. They are quite bold to make a move on Kuvira's s/o in the first place.

It starts off with them complementing your outfit,then your looks. If they dare to do this around her she would raise a brow and cross her arms. But being her,she would allow this charade to continue for a little longer ,even if her jaw clenched in anger. Just to see how far this would go.

Of course you wouldn't understand that the person is hitting on you, after all you didn't care about anyone else but Kuvira.

At one point the guard would be caught checking you out by no one else but Kuvira, and oh boy. She made sure to make a fool out of him in front of her other guards. That only made the person more eager to get to you, wrong choice buddy.

When that person cornered you to shamefully flirt with you and attempted to kiss you,well...

They didn't even know what hit them. One second they were almost kissing you,the next their mouth and hands are tied by her metal plates,stuck to the metal ground.

"I thought I have made myself clear in staying away from my s/o ,but apparently you can't understand simple English. Perhaps a while in my concentration camp would do you good in taking orders." Her stern , attractive voice would speak.

Her eyes would possess an amused yet dangerous glint in them, which indicated she meant each and every word she said.

Her guards would take away the person. a long while never to be heard of them.

She wouldn't blame you for being oblivious,or being attractive. But it doesn't mean that Kuvira would accept anyone making a move on you ,and that person is a lesson for everyone.

Perhaps they learned from the soldier's mistake, even so,it wouldn't mind her to make another prisoner of who tries to get with you again, whether it is to spite her,or to actually try to take you away from her. It's not happening.

Lesson for today? Don't even try to get close to her loved one.

#x reader #reader #tlok #kuvira tlok #tlok kuvira x reader #Tlok Kuvira #tlok x reader #the legend of Korra #the legend of Korra x reader #kuvira x reader #kuvira x fem reader #character x reader #y/n #name

[barbika1508]

A dead man, a criminal. Prisoner. Murderer.

Word Count: 14,1k

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F! Reader

Genre: Action, Romance, Smut

Summary: Your typical-ish ‘breaking Sebastian out of Azkaban’ fic with a bit of angst sprinkled in, but also porn with some plot to put a cheery on top.

Authors Note: Use of MC. I’m sure there are mistake but oh well, otherwise please enjoy my twist on a classic Sebastian Sallow fic. I say classic as it feels like one to me.

Steady breaths. Steady breaths. Steady. Breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out.

‘’It's rather odd.’’ a pause follows ‘’They usually send tougher blokes for these things. No offence.’’

I don't bother turning to the guard and his comment, feeling his eyes run up and down my body, the extra layers I've put on doing their job making me look more robust. Even with the Polyjuice potion I’ve drank, resembling a man of a smaller stature with added weight to look as non-threatening as I can, having chosen a muggle I’ve passed two months ago selling newspapers in London.

''None taken.’’ I offer a fake smile snorting, keeping up the acting letting my eyes shift around, the lack of my wand only slightly concerning the guard the only one armed between the two of us ‘’Happens a lot.’’ I grumble coughing as the muggle is a smoker it reflecting in my breathing as it’s becoming heavier the more we walk. My body is aching for rest.

‘’I can imagine.’’ he shrugs, not seeing the glare I send him, being offended in the nameless muggle’s name instead. I flinch as someone suddenly screams at the top of their lungs, the voice carrying around the hall, the cell doors after all wooden with small windows carved in them, bared by metal bars not leaving them open.

The shout is coming from a criminal and yet they are still made of flesh and blood like I am. It sends a nasty chill to run down my spine. It's going to follow me I already know it.

Incredulous as I was before - silently of course - I observe the guard who is completely unphased. He unlocks metal barred doors with a regular key, not using any magic letting us pass into the third section of the prison. The further in we are making it into Azkaban the worse the conditions are. Shouts, screams of pain, manic laughter are the few sounds that have been accompanying me since setting foot on this gods forsaken island.

Taking the moment as the auror wrestles with a new key, I look around the surprisingly lit corridor. With torches on the walls providing light, we’ve reached a section where there’s lack of natural lighting. So, following along the spaciousness my gaze takes me upwards.

Something I was warned against. Of course, curiosity killed the cat after all.

I sallow uneasy at the sight of what seem hundreds if not thousands of dementors swirl near the ceilings, their attention set onto us. Even with good distance between them and us, their mere presence is shattering. Ugly creatures. I feel my own will beginning to falter, bad memories itching to surface to the front of my mind. It’s hard to resist and has me putting in great effort and a deal of concentration to keep my thoughts blank.

‘’They must be sensing you.’’ the guard comments, his voice sounding unnatural in the once more quiet space. Glancing at him with a raised eyebrow he nods stopping to stand next to me ‘’You are faring a lot better than most blokes that come through. I’ll give ya that.’’

‘’In what sense?’’ I manage out following him, his words leaving me uneasy. But not rattled.

‘’Ahh even the biggest of the meatheads that do their bosses biding retrieving poor saps…’’ he glances back at me to which I nod furrowing my brows ‘’...tend to lose it for a few moments on different sections. Fear is a powerful thing.’’

Narrowing my eyes his words hold something deep to them. I’m getting his hint. Other than that, the man besides looking rather bored at times is quite unreadable I’m certain this place leaving effect on him as well. Keeping my observances to myself I trail along as I have been from the beginning, trying my best to ignore this body’s strain which I am putting it through.

‘’It can make you do bizarre things.’’ I say under my breath playing the character I envisioned for the man I am portraying.

The guard hums taking a turn to the right hands back on another keychain containing a few bizarre, shaped keys. Unique to the cells.

‘’It is your lucky day number 18031.’’ he speaks up unlocking the door ‘’Or unlucky given your future is still rather grim. From what I can deduct.’’ he looks back at me giving me a once over once more, along with an unnecessarily creepy and cruel smirk that I have to force out too to fool this lunatic.

The guard per instruction from before makes his way into the cell chatting happily with the prisoner leaving me alone outside. The warmth from the many torches is non-existent, a dangerous type of chill that rattles my bones begins to settle. Once more glancing up the dementors are itching closer in what I can describe is interest.

Cocking my head, I try not to focus on them too closely, clearing my mind of distractions, trying to stop jittering or the need to clack my teeth together. I’m already feeling like life is pointless, the weight of the world set on my shoulders once more. But that is the extent of it, the thrumming in my blood keeping me collected.

The lullaby I call it of my ancient magic is a soothing whisper in my ears.

‘’Ah there we go.’’ comes the guards voice pushing out the man not roughly but enough to get him moving. It takes everything in me from not reaching out watching as the bearded youngster catches himself from falling, his hands chained.

‘’Are the chains necessary?’’ I ask frowning, looking at the guard as he smiles locking the door.

‘’Moreso for you than us Mr. Blane.’’ his reply is of amusement ‘’He is a criminal, but I’m sure you’ve heard that from your boss already.’’

‘’A wandless one.’’ I raise an eyebrow checking the young man over, seeing his hunched form. He’s hiding his face behind long brown hair, the stripped ‘uniform’ he’s forced to wear too big on his form, full of tears. Barefoot he looks like he hasn’t bathed in forever.

‘’You’ve not seen a man brought to their knees by despair yet, have ya?’’ the guard chats as if we’re talking about the weather leaving the prison doors open turning towards the same way where we came from. I subconsciously fall in step with the prisoner giving the prisoner a few seconds of time, watching, and waiting for him to take the first step which he does.

‘’I have.’’ I admit the last 10 years not exactly easy.

‘’Different kind of despair then.’’ the guard hums beginning to unlock the doors ‘’Not to give any ideas but think of basic instincts Mr. Blane. Primal.’’ again the creepy smile is back, the guard’s eyes portraying cruelty he I’m sure has gotten scarily good at hiding. His change in mood is due to something he saw in me, I’m sure. A mannerism I did or an answer that made him switch from apparent boredom to genuine emotions. Which isn't reassuring.

I return the grin trying my hardest not to gag, the emotions swirling in my belly strong.

‘’Hmmm. Thank you for the lesson. I’ll keep that in mind for future encounters.’’

If I was in my own skin, I’d be jumping out of it. The cruelty of the situation the darkness, this prison the capital of corruption and soullessness, insanity sounding blissful even.

Even if the people here are the worst of the worst of wizard kind it’s all too inhumane. As we begin trekking forward with the guard whistling a song, I follow behind the two. The prisoner not having uttered a word, his whole-body showing defeat as he drags his legs, shoulders that are wide and filled slouched. Taller than me for a whole head.

Satisfaction brought the cat back.

The thought crosses my mind my gaze taking me upwards again, to the new dementors who are hovering above us as we make way. Unsettling. Anyone would be unsettled with dark creatures doing so.

I’m no different.

Curiosity after all is not always worth it. Satisfaction even less. So, I redirect the impulsive thought of releasing some magic out to the corner of my mind, the dementors still presenting mystery to this day. In that regards we are similar. Because even though they present fear that has spread to every witch and wizard, here I stand walking beneath them still confident and reassured even wandless they wouldn’t harm me unlike my wizard kin.

My magic is telling me much.

Reaching the last doors takes us a while, our trek unhurried but briefed before we entered the first corridor. I have a hate/love relationship with patience. And the closer we are to the exit the carriage with which I’ve arrived in my sight the more my magic buzzes along with my excitement which I’m desperately trying to keep at bay.

The guard that accompanied me goes to talk to his buddy that’s keeping post at the entrance, the man looking even more uninterested sending us a brief glance only once as he signs scrolls, transfiguring a stone table from a rock nearby.

Glancing at the prisoner he’s still motionless standing next to me like a statue. His hair has grown long, past his shoulders, beard also overgrown. His skin like I mentioned is covered in dirt and grime some clear spots revealing faded freckles. Hmm.

‘’Alright Mr. Blane.’’ the guard cheers still in a jolly mood trotting over to me, presenting the scroll wide and open ‘’The paperwork and the prisoner as promised are all delivered in one piece.’’ and back comes the unsettling grin. The man is too proud of himself and his wrong doings.

‘’Ah that’s a good man.’’ I cough squinting as I read the death certificate bringing my left hand from the pocket of my coat bringing out the handkerchief, I’ve been holding to wipe my mouth as I read the entirety of the page, making sure of the details ‘’Splendid.’’ I continue letting out another cough a hiccup following. Oh no.

‘’Well at the end of the day, we’ve gotten quite the stroll out hey. Besides getting jobs done.’’ I cheer still wiping my mouth that’s beginning to tingle as are my fingers, the potion starting to waver.

‘’A lovely one at that admittedly. I’ve pegged you wrongly at first. You’re quite the brave man Mr. Blake.’’

I laugh with him fishing out a small bag of coins handing them over to him, his eyes practically sparkling as well as the bored guards as he comes over giving the prisoner a disgusted look but makes sure to stand away from him ‘’The amount is as promised lads. And this…’’ I reach for the trouser pocket and bring out 6 more coins splitting them between the two ‘’For your troubles and help.’’ I smile gratefully ready to puke my guts out, my skin literally crawling, my left leg beginning to itch unbelievably.

‘’Ahhhh Mr. Blane. How generoussss.’’ the overly joyed guard cheers, the bored one looking impressed ‘’The pleasure was all ours.’’

‘’Indeed.’’ the bored guard adds handing over my wand which was also made to look different, the redness of the wood of my wand masked into black wood along with the handle being switched into a plain one.

‘’Gentlemen.’’ I nod in acknowledgement ‘’Business calls. Have yourself a pleasant day onwards.’’ I greet and begin to walk ignoring the prisoner as the guard eagerly steps to him. I hear them both follow to the carriage, the Thestral’s patiently waiting.

Not entirely used to the big belly of this body I stumble and practically climb into the carriage. Beginning to sweat and not only from fatigue I start to wipe my forehead, smiling as the “nicer” guard ushers the prisoner into the carriage with me, making him sit opposite as I’ve sat with my back to the Thestral’s.

‘’Until next time Mr. Blane.’’ the guard greets looking up as I cover my mouth the trembles happening all over my body. I play it off with a nod and another cough, the guard getting the message and closing the doors. Not wasting any time, I wave my wand magic the Thestral’s neighing in reply pulling us forth, the movement rough having me grip onto the seat as we practically launch into the air.

Waving my wand, the tinny curtains of the doors close shut as I try to catch my breath sitting back feeling very uncomfortable in this body, the grumbling getting louder and obnoxious, brown eyes peeking at me.

My breath gets caught at the sight of them. And my smile is instantaneous.

‘’Sorry about this…’’ the change in my voice is noticeable getting higher pitched, but lowering quickly as if one was changing the frequency on the radio ‘’...this will probably be uncomfortable for the both of us.’’

And with that, I attempt at shrugging off the oversized coat I’ve got on, barely managing it as my skin begins to morph, my eyesight sharpening from the dullness it has fallen into. The weight from the male anatomy is the hardest to disappear leaving me without air, the more my body reforms, hair prickling as it grows and regrows. Bones and limbs twist, organs readjusting. The heaviness in my lungs disintegrates and I’m left feeling like I’m breathing clean air after a long time.

The transformation back into myself leaves me winded and a bit lost for time. Because what feels like agonizing minutes, I’m sure it was seconds that passed. Sitting slumped against the carriage seat I look back up to meet my favourite pair of brown eyes, still unchanged in these 10 years.

I can see the bafflement in them.

And recognize the way his mind is working - a million miles per hour.

‘’Alright so we don’t have much time.’’ I find my voice clearing it by coughing a few times, simultaneously beginning to wrestle with the tie I’ve put on and the white shirt underneath ‘’The Ministry’s lookout is bound to meet us at one point. It’s routine for them to fly around to check any unwanted visitations near Azkaban…’’ I ramble undoing the clothing I’ve put on realizing how hot I’ve gotten as I strip down to my own simple shirt and blazer, along with pants and shoes that have already fallen off my feet.

‘’...so, let's get you into something more comfortable for the time being. And less obvious.’’

I begin to pick up the clothing placing it next to him, for him to wear as intended ‘’Gods, we should've been off already.’’ I grumble standing up, pushing open the seat grabbing my boots, along with another wand.

Turning forward I meet his eyes again offering the wand ‘’It's not yours I’m sorry I couldn’t retrieve it. But it's the next best thing until we can find you a new one.’’

But unlike how I imagined it, he doesn’t react. Still silent, a bit frighteningly so he stares at it mouth remaining shut eyes coming back to meet mine.

‘’Okay then amm…’’ I stumble dropping onto the seat ‘’No rush there, Sebastian. I’ll take care of you don’t worry.’’

With my boots on, I automatically reach forward but stop myself quickly realizing the boldness of my action, watching him scared for a second that he’s going to freak out. He doesn’t. He remains motionless staring at me unbreaking eye contact.

‘’I’m sorry I’m rushing you into this. I really am sorry. But I need you to change, okay? I didn’t break you out of prison to see you sent back. Can you please dress??? Do you need help?’’

He shakes his head at that and lifts his hands wordlessly ‘’Oh fuck, I’m so stupid I’m so sorry.’’ I rush reaching for my wand the concealing charm falling away revealing my wand properly ‘’Alohomora.’’

And just like that the chains fall from his wrist, his hands defined and a bit scarred.

‘’I’ll go outside okay, give you a moment.’’ Receiving back the faintest of nods and a completely unreadable Sebastian, I open the carriage door, the wind slamming into me but unmoving me as I make quick work of climbing onto the empty seat, another illusion charm breaking to reveal no one driving the carriage. Sparks of blue like magic visibly to my eyes only.

Checking the surroundings luckily clouds are beginning to gather, a storm brewing the smell of it thick in the air. Turning back seeing nothing but ocean underneath us I let myself smile a little, as I pick up on thunder grumbling.

A knock to the ceiling of the wood brings me back to reality, setting me back into motion of sliding back into the carriage. Instead of entering I rest one foot on the second step, holding onto the railing atop of the carriage hanging from it practically as I peek inside taking Sebastian in.

The clothes are lost as was his prison uniform but makes him look less, wild in a sense. His eyes hold more intensity to them.

‘’Okay.’’ I begin noticing he hasn’t reached for the wand I let for him picking it up ‘’You’ve got no reason to but, will you trust me?’’ I ask his eyes going to the wand then back to me ‘’Trust me Seb??’’ I try, sliding the wand into the sleeve of my blouse where I have my own wand holster.

After two heart beats Sebastian nods, to which I mimic him turning sideways.

‘’Alright. It’s just you and me.’’ I repeat the words automatically, this having become a mantra the past 10 years before I did anything foolish and dangerous. Scooting to the doors preventing them from closing I reach back with my hand offering it to him.

‘’Place your foot behind mine and hold onto me, okay?? Really tight!’’

Focusing on what I must do next, I don’t pay him mind. I don’t even know if he hesitates or not. Not even the way he slides his hand in mine. I only know for sure when I feel his hand, I grab onto him firmly switching to holding one hand with my right, left keeping us upright as he presses himself behind me. He’s a lot taller than I remember beard scratching the back of my head.

‘’Okay.’’ I say to myself more so, grasp on the bar of the carriage beginning to morph as I feel what I can describe is a pleasant heat of my magic coming to life, the support of the carriage disappearing as if a balloon was popped.

And just like that we are falling.

For a few moments that is. Sebastian’s hold tightens impossibly so crushing me onto him. And as ridiculous as it is, bizarre in the midst of the chaos, of the fear, anxiety, happiness, everything bubbling in me I can feel butterflies.

Upkeep his trust, and proceeding with the plan like I’ve said the carriage disappears. What’s left is my modified broom, which was the rod I was holding onto. Bending my knees, I twist it in front of me and slide it beneath us both.

It’s a move I’ve been practicing since my first flying days back at Hogwarts, the thought of falling of a broom instilling a weird fear into me. So, this move has been years in the making.

Successfully I slide it both underneath us, catching onto the foot holders I’ve readjusted to the front. It does pull us roughly forward and Sebastian lands on it to the side. But I’m prepared. I’ve literally obsessed over every possibility of this.

With a nudge forward and hold my iron grip on him, his hand intertwined in mine I pull him flat against me, twisting the broom to right our positions.

On a normal day the manoeuvre would call for a loud cheer, the accomplishment unseen by wizard kind. But not today. It’s not an occurrence in anyone’s lifetime to break people from Azkaban. And yet here we are.

So, upkeep focus is the priority. Flying Sebastian to safety is the next agenda of business. And with the cover of clouds and budding lightning, that’s the easiest part of today.

***

‘’Well…’’ I pause taking half a step back to observe my handiwork trying my hardest not to make any faces, as I continue running my fingers through his hair, the newly chopped strands sticking in all kinds of directions ‘’...given my limited experience in sheering a sheep once, I’d say it looks rather good.’’ I praise myself satisfied with Sebastian’s now short hairstyle.

Trying to remain positive I stand in front of him, his eyes unmovable from me not once fleeting elsewhere ‘’Hm.’’ I mumble and place my hands on my hips meeting his pretty brown eyes ‘’Feels better huh?’’

He doesn’t reply. He hasn’t spoken a word since the carriage. No scratch that since his cell. I’m not sure exactly what to think of it reminding myself over and over again to keep calm and give him time and space. Which reminds me.

‘’Ah yeah, the bath.’’ I point out the tub that I’ve filled almost to the brim with lukewarm sinking the tips of my fingers in it to test it out ‘’Alright. I’ve got many shampoos, over there…’’ He merely glances to where I point to the small stool, I’ve placed next to the tub ‘’...I remember you liking more woody scents, but I didn’t know exactly the brand you liked, so I bought a bunch for you to try.’’ I smile as I step over to him sitting in the middle of my bathroom, covered with an old towel as I’ve cut his hair leaving the beard up to him.

‘’There are fresh clothes for you, the one’s I gave you were for show and more of a universal size. We’ll get more to fit you better and to your liking when you’re ready.’’ I pass him over to the sink, letting go of the scissors on the porcelain surface, my own products neatly stacked to my liking on the free space of the shelving unit I built one day.

‘’And yeah.’’ reaching for my wand I wave it at the tub, speaking the incantation in my mind watching as the water begins to bubble and steam, trying not to let Sebastian’s deep gaze unhinge me ‘’That’s about that.’’ I smile wider backing towards the door ‘’Take as much of time as you like. I’ll go prepare us some food in the meantime. If you need anything I’m right behind the doors.’’

With that I’m grasping the doorhandle opening it but find myself hesitant with taking a step onwards turning back to the still mute Sebastian that doesn’t move a muscle. It’s as if he’s trying to tell me something while I’m stuck on a level of not being able to understand him. With a softer smile, I step outside with a heavy heart closing the door gently making my way into the kitchen from my bedroom.

My cottage is on the smaller side only having the basics, the addition of a study heaven sent. I send a glance around the spacious room that is the kitchen, entrance, dining room and living room all combined.

It’s a cozy little place to live in, with no noisy neighbours, or busy streets my location being on the edge of the village ensuring peace and quiet.

But tonight, for the first time since moving here the silence is deafening. Knowing who is on the other side of the wall. My body begins moving on autopilot peeling potatoes by hand instead of using magic, my mind keeps racing. It’s hard not to think of more scenarios, more what-ifs. Honestly its quite bloody hard trying not to spiral. Guilt always finds a way to interfere.

Before I know it, I’ve prepared the veggies and precut chicken setting it into the oven it firing up normally. It only comes after the tiredness from my actions as I slump into the chair at the head of the table facing the kitchen, so I’ll be able to see Sebastian emerge from my dimly lit room.

It feels unreal. Reality not sinking just yet - he is here. He is free. I’ve freed him.

The commitment of a crime - breaking a prisoner out of prison - still doesn’t sound bad in my ears. Logically its illegal yes, but I feel that I did the right thing. Because I did. I know I did. I’m just regretful it took me 10 fucking years to do so. Laws cannot help you even when proven right and wrong. Alliances are fickle matters. Money can’t buy you everything.

Shadows moving in the corner of my eye have me tense up, left hand shifting towards the movement, my wand forgotten on the clean kitchen counter. I keep forgetting it in places, wandless magic having gotten easier with training and life experiences. I somewhat relax at the sight of Sebastian emerging from the other room.

He leaves me stunned. With damp hair slicked back, and a clean-shaven face I’m able to see the progress of time on him. It’s not much which is why it strikes me all that more at how all the same he looks. He is on the skinnier side, eyes cheeks sunken, the boyish look gone and replaced by the serious and still wordless man that cautiously walks into the light, eyes fleeting towards the oven - or my wand - then back to me.

The clothes I’ve gotten him hang loose but not too much. They look a little short. He’s taller than I anticipated. But clothing is an easy fix. So is hair.

Despite the sullenness he’s still Sebastian. It's hard to explain it, but I see that spark in him even in the emotionlessness he’s portraying. Makes my heart ache so much more.

‘’You’ve made yourself a cozy home.’’ are the first words that he speaks. His voice is gruff giving a hint of not being used as the tone is low and raspy.

I glance around memories of frantic deep cleaning marathons I’ve spiralled into before setting out on getting him free, going through my mind as I shrug turning back ‘’Ehhh. A recent purchase.’’ I glance around again trying not to look at the trinkets I’ve picked up from adventures and work-related tasks.

At his silence but inquiring eyes I continue ‘’The quiet has its advantages. Or maybe it’s the old age in me, craving some alone time.’’

At this his eyebrows raise as he looks around again, observing the furniture, decor, pictures ‘’No significant other to keep company??’’

I want to snort at the obvious question: his train of thoughts is very similar to the old Sebastian I knew. I shake my head rolling my shoulders back as I lean against the chair, relaxing my feet and body getting comfortable ‘’Wasn’t on my list of priorities to be honest.’’ I scrunch up my nose watching as he walks over to the table, still putting distance between us.

‘’Hmmm.’’ he hums in thought eyes looking over my ringless fingers as if to confirm it ‘’You were always too brilliant for mere mortals.’’ he jokes my smile easily rising at the jab as I chuckle my heart fluttering at the soft smile that he graces me with.

‘’Ah it’s not even about that, and you know it.’’ I reply bringing my hands on the table together starting to fidget as I timidly look at him ‘’Did you…’’ I pause adrenaline and confidence having truly left me ‘’Did you by any chance get any mail?’’

He remains silent eyes breaking away as they look around the room more, the shift from one foot to another prompting him into walking slowly over, hands that previously rested on top of a chair, moving along touching the wood as he comes closer.

‘’You wrote me?’’ he counters with a question, face not giving anything away even if he looks relaxed.

‘’I did.’’ I say calmly ignoring the rise of my heartbeat as he pulls the chair out on my left and with caution sits himself down, body turned towards me.

‘’Sadly, I wasn’t granted those kinds of privileges.’’

Defeated at that, the comfort of Sebastian hearing from me all these years is slightly defeating as I’ve hoped my words would bring some form of comfort. When my owl kept returning with no letters, I’d assumed that he got them.

‘’I tried.’’ I begin licking over my lower lip ‘’I wrote to you.’’ I pause again looking at my hands not able to meet his serious face ‘’I tried opening an investigation for your case.’’ I send a glance to my right the cabinet containing all the documents I’ve gathered during the 10 years to free him. ‘’Even with the right connections I – I’ve had to resort to other measures.’’ I frown raising my right hand reciting the right levitation charm watching as a thin brown folder levitates into the air and makes its way over into my hand.

I finally turn to Sebastian trying not to backtrack at the intense look he’s giving me. The emotionlessness has me on edge, but even more so it’s his stillness. I know him as being animated always full of life and mischief too, his cunning knowing no bounds. Its why I was always drawn to him, so easily agreeing to stupid plans.

‘’You’ve heard us talk. I think you’ve picked up on what transpired.’’ I turn the file over and slide it to him, his eyes unmoving from me as silence stretches between us.

And the more it goes on the more I feel like a little girl again. Uncomfortable, lost, anxious but the feelings I hate the most are insecurity and helplessness. With a look he’s drawing that out of me. Lucky or unlucky my employment has provided me with years of practice, and a ton of experience to leave nothing out as I hold myself composed, straightening up even sitting proper in anticipation for an attack. I don’t exactly know how else to hold myself by, the work of an Unspeakable wrapped in mystery for sure, but also layers of let’s call it character development that had shaped me into the person I am today.

Yet with the reminder of the last few years the trails tribulations, the triumphs, falls, accomplishments, deaths I’m being brought to a dangerous level of crumbling. Under those watchful brown eyes, empty but overwhelming at the same time.

‘’Last time I saw you, heard you – your cries were quite remorseful.’’ He taps his fingers against the table quirking an eyebrow. The memory burns freshly in my mind, aurors taking Sebastian away, Ominis holding me back with surprising strength as I protested and pleaded, begging for them to stop my cries falling on deaf ears.

‘’I think any 15-year-old would react like that when she saw the love of her life being taken away like that.’’ the truth pours out easily the quirk of his brow signalling I’ve caught him of guard.

‘’That’s quite the statement, Mc.’’ He observes, his posture giving hints of something akin to curiosity.

‘’It happens to be truthful.’’ I lower my chin a little still maintaining eye contact.

‘’Even after all that happened. After all I’ve done? After I’ve taught you the dark arts. Got you almost killed?’’ the words pour out of him the collectedness cracking.

‘’They say love is blind.’’ I smile at my own statement relaxing back into the chair.

‘’Mc.’’ He speaks my name seriously leaning forward for the first-time showing anger and frustration shifting in his seat ‘’I’ve manipulated you into doing my biding. Played on your nice heart, taken advantage thoroughly. I didn’t even think about consequences. You’re not daft. You’re aware of all of this.’’

I simply nod at his words smile still present ‘’I didn’t care about your feelings or wellbeing.’’ He adds on my shrug seemingly rising more out of him ‘’I would’ve done anything and everything to find a cure. Anything.’’

At this I tilt my head watching him. I’ve imagined him going of like this in my mind many times. My own imagination a lot more hurtful than the real thing truthfully. Even if his words are baneful, I find myself being okay.

‘’You never lied very well to me.’’ I find myself stating his lack of anything prompting me to go on ‘’I could always read you. I knew you better than you did yourself.’’ I hum after that Sebastian shaking his head.

‘’And here I thought I’ve been freed from the looney bin.’’

At that statement my smile disappears my fingers tapping on the table to rein him in ‘’No need for that, Seb. We both know what anger makes you do, your regretful-ness always leading you to grovelling.’’ I spit back. His jaw clenches, fingers curling into fists stance tense.

‘’I think between the two of us you’re the fool in this equation. You used to tease anyone to never underestimate me, and yet here you are.’’ I pause reaching for the pocket of my pants ‘’You know I’m not the one who put you behind bars.’’ Confidently I go on ‘’Somehow even with little privileges you’re a Slytherin after all. Its why you didn’t protest or react when the Polyjuice potion wore off in the carriage.’’

His breathing is becoming deeper, chest raising and falling noticeably ‘’You knew something was up. You’re not one to throw in the towel. Even after – after the circumstances.’’ I pause not wanting to mention Azkaban directly ‘’I have it on good authority that you’ve gotten some of my letters.’’ His breathing hitches my smile rising ‘’Like I said you can’t trick me Sallow. We’ve had it worse in our 5th year in some regards.’’

I get completely serious waiting for him to protest, waiting for him to raise an uproar as I’m sure he’s easily recollecting the events in our Hogwarts days. The thought of us being kids and definitely the definition of luck as the dangers we’ve faced would leave anyone else traumatized or dead.

I’ve been in the presence of dementors before, the ministry having random outbreaks, some of my missions having sent me to meet even worse creatures than them. Sebastian might have been alone for these past years dealing with happiness and joy being sucked out of him – for a fact I know especially now that he’s going to be okay. He has changed yes, grown as I did, but he has also managed to adapt to his surroundings. He didn’t let them take him entirely apart.

‘’Even with this…’’ I rest my hand on the table, knuckles against the wood opening my palm up we both watch as a fire like shape raises, the tingle of my ancient magic humming comforting to be brought to the surface ‘’…with what life has thrown at me…’’ I shake my head the magic rising ‘’…I’m…’’ the words die on my tongue.

Magic retracts itself disappearing into thin air leaving behind a warm feeling my offer to the once more stoic brunette a sad smile as I pull my hand back but place the small box from my pocket on the table ‘’You’re not alone.’’

My voice is strained as the oven begins to beep annoying loud providing the opportunity to look away and blink tears into nonexistence as I will myself to calm down, waving my hand in the familiar and automatic pattern as I watch the over, turn off its doors opening. The dish floats without a hitch onto the stove, the oven doors closing.

Glancing over at Sebastian his gaze is stuck on the unopened box and file. I sigh deeply steadying myself as I reach over and flicker the velvety box open revealing a simple silver ring pushing it to him. I tap the table twice, the indication for him to open the document. Which he slowly does reach for, opening it as if it’s going to attack him at any moment.

Placing both of my hands back on the table, I summon the wand I’ve gotten for him his declination of it before still a mystery to me. Catching the unfamiliarly weighted wand, I gently place it on the table right in the middle between us, the offering going unsaid.

Retreating my hands I reach for the other pocket of my pants, pulling out and putting on my own wedding band which is a fairly recent accessory I’ve started wearing.

Looking over at the silent man, his eyes are taking the paper in rapidly. Reading. Re-reading. Re-checking. The certificates. The ring. The wand.

‘’Nothing is set in stone.’’ I softly begin Sebastian still unmoving ‘’Except for the death certificate. That was tricky to arrange, more so than the wedding document. Oh, Merlin that was ridiculously easy.’’ Once more I shake my head letting out an empty laugh, surprised but not showing it as he has picked up the wedding ring his silence stretching for longer than I’m used to from him.

It slides me right back towards the edge, anxiety picking, the knot in my stomach twisting to a painful degree.

‘’L/N?’’

I nod immediately as his eyes meet my own ‘’I think my surname is rather nice.’’ I blur out ‘’No that Sallow isn’t but, it kind of defeats the whole ‘you’re publicly dead’ purpose.’’ I rant his face not changing ‘’I’m sure the daily prophet will mention your passing tomorrow.’’ I glance to the left at the clock ticking away, signalling its way later than it feels. It still feels surreal to have Sebastian in front of me.

He opens his mouth but closes it just as fast something bothering him, twisting his pretty face into a frown. It would be weird if he wasn’t bothered.

‘’Like I’ve said nothing is set into stone.’’ I raise my hands in surrender, Sebastian’s attention on the wand now. He’s watching it and not picking it up.

‘’I’ve used you.’’ His statement catches me of guard as anger sparks ‘’Need I repeat all the misdeed’s all the faults I’ve made you dealt with? I saw how scared you were of the ancient magic, I saw how it drained you and still I’ve pushed and pushed you, into exhaustion and numerous shaves with death without a pause. Heck, in the scriptorium after casting Curcio I left you behind in favour of exploring. Mc. Why?’’ he deadpans ‘’Anne my own twin sister sent me to Azkaban. Ominis my best friend didn’t hesitate to betray me. You…this is madness. You are mad.’’

He stares at me incredulous clearly having run these questions through his mind before. He rehearsed these words. Before me doesn’t sit a ‘notorious prisoner, a criminal from Azkaban’ anymore. Before me is sitting the Sebastian I know and love. With the same scared expression, same sort of desperation eyes pleading for things to make sense.

Hence why getting up is so much easier body moving on its own the scared boy I was infatuated with having the same effect on me, pulling me in towards the wildfire that he is. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t particularly react in any way as I step around the table and in front of him rising my hands.

Meeting his eyes my palms land on his cheeks. Gentle to touch thanks to the shower and shave they feel familiar in my palms and yet different. His body tense from emotions and racing mind going gradually into a relax state as he hunches forward, eyes blinking away tears.

I crowd into his personal space Sebastian making room by spreading his legs, welcoming as I brush my fingers into his messy hair, the motion making me feel 10 years younger as I’ve used to do this on the regular whenever we were alone together.

My heart all but leaps from my chest as his hands find themselves above my hips in a respectful place sliding over my back drawing me into a hug which I happily succumb to, holding him close to me only slightly self-conscious if he can hear how my heart speeds for him.

Otherwise, the surrealness returns, the overwhelming joy of finally putting my plans into motion of them being fruitful hit me. Closing my eyes I attempt at holding back tears, but it’s an impossible task with the way he’s holding onto me, guiding me as if I’m made of glass to sit in his lap rearranging us and yet not parting a millimetre away from one another, as he buries his face into my shoulder and stills, big hands splayed over my back as if I’m the one who’s going to disappear.

To be honest my hands are doing the same, grasping his clothes rougher than needed the reassurance not quenched entirely. So, I let the tears flow I’m sure dampening his shirt in the process, alerting him of my state only after a while since he makes the first move, calloused hands this time cupping my own cheeks, thumbs attempting to wipe away tears.

‘’I’ve not seen you cry ever dearest Mc, and I’m the one who makes you cry so easily??’’ a spark of mischief fizzles in the end his hesitant smile words causing me to huff an awkward laugh, as I look up towards the ceiling trying to will away the tears.

‘’It’s merely a side effect of a heartfelt reunion.’’ I let out some air looking back at him feeling hope creep into my heart which is unnerving ‘’Long distance and all.’’ My voice cuts off in the end the humour not at all humorous.

He hums in response I think feeling the same sentiments as I am, preoccupying himself with getting acquainted with me again. I know I’ve changed, its only logical. We are not kids anymore. I let him indulge as one hand continuously caresses up and down my back, the other touching my lose hair, temple, nose, cheek and so forth meanwhile I do the same taking my own selfish time in admiring him so up close, blissfully ignoring reality the bubble we’ve fallen into, serenity. A slice of Eden dare I say.

Its once his hand parts from my face and find my left hand, that he speaks again ‘’This is not how I’ve imagined my marriage would start.’’ He begins softly voice still containing raspiness to it, fingers tracing and rotating the wedding ring on my finger ‘’Rather unorthodox.’’ He muses in the end blessing me with a genuine smile.

‘’It’s quite fitting for your brand.’’ We both grin and my tease ‘’And like you’ve mentioned before. I’m not meant for mere mortals. Let alone being one for tradition or normalcy.’’ I let my ancient magic sparkle watching as he stares in wonder at our joined hands the blue like flame illuminating his face into a pretty blue colour.

‘’And yet you’re bestowing the sacred privilege of not only honouring me with your last name but taking me rather shamelessly as your husband?’’ he looks incredulous the more he speaks sort of holding his breath in a sense to see if I’m suddenly going to change my mind ‘’A dead man, a criminal. Prisoner. A murderer.’’

His handsome features twist into a frown showing disgust and what he’s thinking about himself I’m sure holding more vile words back. Unphased and already having expected this I keep calm, and with my right free hand reach for his occupied hand retaking the wedding ring I’ve picked for him twisting it between my fingers a trick I’ve learned from a muggle magician, slight of hands handy even in the wizarding world.

‘’To me you are just Sebastian.’’ I admit smiling watching his eyes glossing over lower lip trembling briefly ‘’I’ve obviously made my choice haven’t I. I’m giving you a choice of your own. You can accept it or refuse it, regardless of my actions and feelings because this is about you and your life from this point onwards.’’

The pause is heavy in the air, the coldness from the dementors making a fleeting appearance as I’m reminded of where he is coming from after all. He’s not the Sebastian I know not entirely, even if I am drawing him out slowly. Hence my fears are justifiable.

‘’You’ve taken one life, Seb.’’ I whisper lowering my hand searching his eyes ‘’In self-defence.’’ I pause again gulping down the knot in my throat ‘’You’ve no clue what I’ve done since you’ve been gone.’’ I give him a sad smile, looking between us at the way he’s holding my hand ‘’You have not paused to think that I might be dragging you back onto the wrong path. That I’m not who I appear to be. That I might be the bad guy here.’’

His relaxed body tenses the more I talk, expression once more dropping all emotions as he hardens eyebrows furrowing as intensity sparks behind his eyes ‘’You could never be.’’ He’s quick to hiss, gentle hands tightening the shake of his head warming me.

‘’Oh, but I am.’’ I drop both my hands in my lap, his own not leaving me for a moment ‘’I’ve earned many names in the years of my employment at the ministry.’’ He gets taken aback by that my smile lighter ‘’Professor Hecat had an eye for detecting certain potentials in students. Even the ones with good intentions.’’

I wait for him to figure out, to make the connection which he does brilliantly fast ‘’Mc…’’ he speaks my name sweetly to which I shake my head.

‘’I hold no grudges or ill against you Sebastian. I never had.’’ I straighten his hold unmoving ‘’I had this feeling ever since our youth that we were always meant to be.’’ His eyes widen ‘’It may be delusion from my part, but I do not regret the things I did with you, or the things I had to do to get you out.’’ Its frighteningly easy to slip into the serious persona I tend to wear as an Unspeakable. I hate that I’m doing it to him, switching up emotions not really comforting him as I should be.

But he needs to know the truth.

‘’You’ve always been on my m…’’

Unable to finish the sentence I’m startled into silence as his lips meet my own. Of course, it’s a rather surprising move I think for the both of us, as he doesn’t entirely commit to it his slightly chapped lips moving shily. He retreats as quicky as he came, eyes panicked as they search my own.

He meant the kiss I know that much. Its written all over his panic-stricken features and eyes. This is where the prison has left a mark on him, turning the flirtations and overconfident Slytherin to an insecure man holding me firmly and yet blushing at a mere peck that he so clumsily delivered.

Breaking the poor man’s torture, I end up closing the distance initiating the kiss gently, timid lips still unsure as they follow my own, a tremble to them prompting me to wrap my arms around his shoulders to hold him closer in reassurance. Or it might be my own insecurity still gnawing at my subconsciousness. Emotions are a tricky business.

For the moment being, the sweet slow drag of our lips is enough to keep me grounded. To appreciate the sacrifices made, the overthinking and panicking at times, the survival methods the both of us had to resort to. It matters not in the end as long as we are back in each other’s arms. And if that makes me bad, morally grey as the whispers in the ministry are floating around – I’ll be the villain. Gladly. As long as I get to see Sebastian. As long as he’s alright. Dare I hope for him to be happy finally.

Slowly parting he follow suit chasing me for a fracture of a moment. The small action has me smiling as I lean my forehead against his, running one hand through his hair trying to hold back, and calm my breathing and the beating of my heart.

‘’I’ve missed you.’’ my voice comes out unfiltered ‘’I’ve missed you so much, it ached.’’ I grasp his hand with my other one placing it over my heart ‘’Hurt. It hurt so bad, Seb.’’ Blasted tears make an appearance as I give space to look at him his own expression crushing as he looks so sorry and dejected.

‘’Oh darling…’’ he whines gulping, thoughts I’m sure all over ‘’Just you and me yeah??’’ he whispers upkeeping eye contact ‘’Remember? I made a promise.’’

I close my eyes at the memory. The memory holds joy as it does tragedy. The stupid fool that he was, he followed me one night when I stumbled upon a camp of poachers. The hero he wanted to act just got in the middle of things. It took one second of distraction from my part, one bloody second that he got struck with a nasty hex that left him instantly bleeding and unresponsive.

That brough a whole another aspect to my ancient magic as a thunderstorm raged for the rest of the night. He narrowly escaped death only thanks to me finding the by then deceased wizard’s wand, breaking it to relive him of pains, and a good 2 Wiggenweld Potion’s to get him semi-conscious.

Having had to reveal the room of requirements and thankfully learning enough healing charms to ‘mend’ him together his promise befell through a fervour he had. But his smile was bright, genuine a bit aloof. He meant every word he said.

And right now, he’s being deadly serious waiting for my response.

‘’Even after all this time?’’ my voice comes out unsure, Sebastian immediately nodding bringing our joined hands upwards to which he presses a kiss to the top of my knuckles.

‘’I could ask you the same thing.’’ He smiles with ease drawing out a blush to flush over my cheeks ‘’You’ve waited all these years, haven’t you?’’ he hums as I nod not trusting my voice ‘’Found impossible ways to keep giving me hope. To keep me alive. Sane.’’ I can merely stare at him, ignoring my own trembling lips letting myself enjoy his touches and proximity ‘’Only you. It has always been only you.’’

Unlike the younger version of Sebastian who had shown his fire-y passion usually through kisses and rather daring touches now and then, this Sebastian still handling me like glass pulls me into his embrace, resting his head onto my shoulder hiding his face in my hair and momentarily from the world.

So, I follow suit, running one hand over his back caressing, the other finding its way into his curls the feeling of them, having imagined it to many times to count, currently a blissful affair.

‘’Let me see that ring.’’ He speaks up as I’ve seemingly lost my own voice, doing as he wishes parting only slightly to watch him accept the ring I’ve been holding onto this entire time, doubts nasty little critters as I like to not so affectionally call these emotions, piling and adding weight.

With a held breath, he examines the silver ring turning and twisting it around looking at it from all the angles, his lips painted with a faint lopsided smirk of amusement and mischief. He looks up at me the side of his eyes crinkling a bit.

‘’No flashy jewellery.’’ He quirks an eyebrow, cupping my ring bearing hand raising it to which his gaze falls into my own ring which he gently rolls around my fingers ‘’Always the one for practicality.’’ He chuckles retreating his hand to put his wedding band onto his finger. Only when it slides fitting onto his digit perfectly do I release the breath I’ve been holding.

‘’It’s not even about practicality.’’ I pout watching as he flexes his fingers, rotating his hand as if testing the feel of the band his definitely mischievous eyes landing on my own ‘’I’m not one for rocks it’s all.’’ I shrug attempting to cross my arms waiting for the onslaught of his teases giving in immediately as his hand intercepts both of my own.

‘’Just sturdy, powerful and extremely rare metals then?’’ again with the quirking of his eyebrow his comment reminding me how brilliant he still is. It didn’t take him long at all to figure out that our wedding bands, silver in colour have been made from like he said extremely, nearly extinct pieces of metal that took quite the ventures to get to them.

Not only have they meaning in the eyes of everyone as being symbols of our love and devotion to one another, but they provide us with certain magical enhancements.

‘’Not meant for mere mortals.’’ Once more I throw at his face wanting him to understand how much he means to me, his playfulness lowering a notch as he looks at me with affection. With more confidence in his actions, he leans in capturing my lips with his, the kiss syrupy as he takes his time as if to explore my mouth anew, hands finding themselves over my thigs where he grips onto my flesh and pulls me even closer.

I sigh into the kiss letting him take the lead, not minding his touches that grow bolder kiss paired with teeth and tongue reminding me of his teenage self actually who wasn’t afraid of trying out new things.

What has my brows furrowing is the thrust of his hips coming at random the full feel of his manhood clicking in my brain I shift in his lap in such a manner that has me wrapping my legs around his hips, the back of the chair providing an annoying blockade preventing me from wrapping around him.

As if he reads my mind – making me briefly wonder if he has become a legitimus – his hands slip underneath me his touch daring as its on my bottom. With a bite to my lower lip, he lets out a shuddering breath shifting getting up all the while holding me against him. The damned chair falls over causing a racket in the quiet house but leaves him and myself unbothered as his lips find their way under my jaw teeth grazing against my jugular the action arousing in some odd way.

‘’Oh Seb…’’ I groan as he presses a wet kiss to a ticklish area, his swaying prompting me to open my eyes, seeing the sunrise outside the window.

‘’You sound so beautiful.’’ He groans continuing with his ministrations ‘’And I’ve merely begun.’’ Cheeky is what he is, hands grasping my backside squeezing even.

‘’Oh.’’ I squeak ending up giggling at my own response, Sebastian ending up laughing with me, momentarily stopping his ministrations ‘’Ah Merlin. You’re still obnoxious.’’

On purpose I’m sure he delivers a slightly stinging bite ‘’Ouch Sebastian!’’ I try to scold him, his lull into a step side-tracking my thoughts as I cling onto him.

‘’And you are still, sensitive dear wife.’’ he smirks as I look down at him, his grin almost the same one that promises nothing but trouble. But his use of title, has a blush hitting me all over, heat practically washing over me. I see how my reaction pleases him, as he continues walking carefully. A hint of my old Sebastian is showing through the sparkles in his pretty eyes.

‘’I’m not sensitive.’’ I pout trying to keep calm and my head clear ‘’You always imagined that.’’

He chuckles as we walk past the doorway, the sun outside casting gentle rays onto the floor. It’s quite the miracle for it has been raining for months, and today out of all days it’s miraculously sunny.

‘’Ah. Sure yes. As your dutiful husband I shall agree on that and apologize darling.’’ He exaggerates making me muse as he stops and hovers over the bed.

‘’Now you are exaggerating Sebastian.’’

‘’Happy wife…’’ I put my hand over his mouth to stop him from finishing the sentence, as I giggle looking at him in astonishment.

‘’Don’t you even dare.’’ I warn letting go of his mouth in favour of grabbing him by his shoulders as he dips down ‘’Seb…’’ I gasp in fright as it begins okay, him bending forward but it ends up in me falling on the bed and him crashing into me leaving me winded from surprise but not the impact.

He burst into laughter whilst I do the same, covering my face for a moment looking at the ceiling above me, Sebastian shaking in my arm from laughter hanging half off the bed.

‘’That was rather…accurate for the two of us.’’ I mumble running my hands up and down his back as he begins to calm down, the corner of his eyes crinkling slightly whole expression lifted and joyful.

‘’Excuse me then dear wife. This was not in my plans.’’ He giggles still greatly amused, only now readjusting himself off me, and manoeuvring the both of us onto the bed sideways still as he doesn’t put any distance between us.

‘’I would sure hope not.’’ I smile cupping his cheeks ‘’Fear not dear husband, I am not made of porcelain.’’ I raise my eyebrows ready for his teasing. He takes a different course, in the form of closing the distance kissing me with more vigour, remaining soft in his ministrations his hand oddly in place.

I kiss him in return trying to calm down my shuddering breath as he steals it literally. Even as I cannot uphold my head upright and fall to lie down, he follows eagerly pressing pecks, kisses over my jawline cheek, cheekily kissing the tip of my nose eyes half closed as he admires for a moment and then returns to reward me with the slow drag of his lips.

I let my hands drop in the meantime, rubbing them over his clothed back. He’s still wide like he used to be, but he has lost his muscles that were built thanks to Imelda’s rigorous training for quidditch. And our adventures too. Not only did he lose his bulk, but also his strength which was proven a few moments ago. A reminder that he has gone through something traumatic.

So due to his hesitant touches, and to be honest my loss of patience I bring my hands forth, over his arms to the front, finding the buttons of the collared shirt I’ve got him to wear. Luckily, he didn’t bother with the waistcoat, so my intention gets quickly realized as I undo the garment.

He breaks the kiss due to my touched, his breath hitching as my hands come in contact with his chest, one of his hands grasping my wrist gently stopping me in my ministrations.

‘’Mc I…’’ he pauses looking between us instead at me, his cheeks, and ears flushed pink.

Wordless I understand him right now. Pulling my hands back I offer a big-closed lip smile his eyes turning to look at me in fright.

‘’It’s okay.’’ I speak softly grabbing the tucked part of my own collared shirt. He shifts in a way that allows me to pull it over my head which leaves me in my chemise, Sebastian looking something between frightened and aroused as he watches me.

‘’I understand, okay?’’ I say slowly as if I’m talking to a frightened creature grasping his hand. I bring it over to my left shoulder pushing the sleeve of my chemise lower to reveal the ugly burn that stretches over my skin ‘’We don't have to do anything. Don't force yourself. We can stop. It's okay. But know that I don't want you any less. You're still you, and I'm still me. Nothing’s changed.’’

As if weak he bends down, resting his forehead against my own. His hand still on my shoulder begins to gently caress my skin whilst I bring my own back to his chest listening watching him intently for any sign of rejection. Not showing any, I proceed to touch him with utmost gentleness tracing over his stomach, chest feeling his bones all the more. This time around I kiss him in distraction, as I push the shirt over his shoulders.

Half expecting him to freeze, I’m left pleasantly surprised as he gets up and begins to push off the material, discharging it behind us. As he sits on his knees above me chest noticeably moving as he’s breathing heavily, I’m the one who’s left admiring him.

Even covered in tiny scars, scraps and hair, he’s still my Sebastian. Even this fragile and tired looking I see the fire in his eyes.

‘’Ohh Sebastian!’’ I exclaim following with a fit of giggles as his veiny hands, which I notice only now reach for the belt of my trousers. I leave my hands to rest next to my head smiling at the manhandling that he is doing.

‘’You said you weren’t fragile.’’ He taunts licking his lower lip, as the belt comes undone and is pulled off, his hands clumsy as he tears the button of my trousers off.

‘’I am not.’’ I agree watching him delighted in how he begins to pull down the clothing along with my winter socks ‘’Are you in a rush darling?’’ I bite onto my lower lip, watching as he gets rid of his own pants, rather clumsily kicking them off ‘’My, my what a pleasant sight to be blessed with.’’ I arch an eyebrow looking him up and down.

He’s quick to climb back atop of me this time nestling his hips between my legs, delivering a kiss to my shoulder the action surprising me making me blush ‘’Hey that was my line Mc.’’ He swops down to kiss me but briefly as he rolls his hips into me leaving me lost for words and my thoughts derailed at his sudden boldness.

‘’You’ve grown daring over the years.’’ He notes breaking the kiss, returning to leave kisses over the other side of my cheek, descending down my neck ‘’Shameless?’’ he asks beginning to roll his hips against me, the lack of clothing much more revealing obviously.

It’s not that our undergarments are see through, but they are made of light materials. Which enables me to fully feel him against my core. And o my gods…

I groan at a particularly prominent thrust, which pushes me higher up Sebastian not leaving for a moment, simply continuing with whatever he has in store the deviant now proceeding to mark me above my collarbones.

‘’Fearless.’’ He speaks up pressing kisses against my scar, his lips his touches making me flinch initially. But he’s holding me down tenderly, pushing the chemise lower revealing more of my skin. Revealing more of the imperfections – scars I’ve earned in his absence.

‘’You are giving me too much praise, Sebastian.’’ I frown a little, letting my fingers dance over his chest, and to his sides, his hipbones.

‘’Not nearly enough.’’ He raises above me, looking like a man entranced re-connecting our lips together, this time letting his tongue run over my bottom lip making me hum in appreciation. Growing confident due to his actions, I wrap my legs over the back of his thighs attempting to press him harder against him, his rhythm now stuttering as I grab his arse, squeezing.

He breaks the kiss offering a mischievous smirk ‘’Diabolical. Absolutely diabolical.’’

I grin at that, showing him my tongue to further entice him. Which works perfectly. He grasps my hand like a gentleman actually, prying my hands away from his still perky ass pinning my arms to the sides of my head smirking down at me not breaking eye contact.

‘’You are the love of my life.’’ The statement has me blinking a few times as I look up at him stunned ‘’My everything.’’

Unable to respond Sebastian takes the lead, taking the approach as he did in the beginning. His hold, his closeness, his kissing all gentle and slow. It gives me the sense as if…as if he’s imprinting this into his memory. Because the more we progress, and his hips begin to rut against me harder, the more I have this feeling as if he is plagued by something.

And I understand it. Giving into him, relaxing on the bed letting him take what he desires even if that means my lips will remain bruised, and climax delayed. It’s all about him.

‘’Oh Seb…’’ I moan into his mouth, shifting my hips to accommodate him further seeing the need in the glare he offers. His freckled skin is so prettily flushed, hair messy, and skin slightly damp as the room grows hotter ‘’You feel so good against me…’’ I encourage nodding pulling my right hand away to push the lose strands from his forehead smiling as he kisses my wrist in the progress, panting softly.

‘’Missed you…’’ he says strained, moving us his hardness I’m sure throbbing as it makes a mess out of me rubbing against my clit on and off again rising tingles under my fingertips ‘’…my pretty girl.’’ I smile at the compliment, dragging the top of my nails down his chest his shudder loud as he intakes breath quickly, his left hand grabbing a hold of my thigh twisting it higher the change in position making me throwback my head, as he parts my soaked folds even through the now ruined fabric.

‘’So pretty…’’ he pants biting into his lower lip, head falling next to my own. He keeps moving, and my hand keeps progressing, finally reaching the band of his undergarment, slipping my fingers inside the dampness ‘’Oh MC!’’ he suddenly grunts, as my fingers barely touch his hot and leaking manhood.

His hand like before is quick in catching and stopping my own from progressing, as he convulses and twitches, hip stuttering regularly.

Caught off guard I merely watch him dumbfounded as something warm and wet grazes against my fingers and palm, his hold preventing me from doing anything else. So, I remain still and accommodating until he slows to a gradual stop, still twitching now and then even as he releases my hand, letting me examine the fluid.

‘’I think I’ve died.’’ He utters into my neck, his breath ticklish making me smile as I bring my hand to my lips and taste him ‘’Oh I’m definitely dead.’’ His voice dips lower.

Peeking at him he’s looking at me as if I’ve put the stars in the sky, while I click my tongue ‘’I don’t think so husband dearest.’’ I smile affectionally, pushing him lightly of me and to the side, rolling on my left to face him, fingers wiped on the comforter.

‘’This must be it. The afterlife.’’ He dramatically chats ahead rolling onto his back sighing whilst I get up following him, pushing down the chemise further revealing my torso entirely, sitting next to him. He peeks at me, eyes taking me all in blush returning immediately ‘’You fair maiden, like a siren coating me into a demise I’ll gladly plumet into.’’

I grin at his poetry dipping down to kiss him gently, his right hand warm as it settles over my lower back resting there ‘’That would make us both dead.’’ I point out musing ‘’I for one am enjoying my married life very much.’’ He perks at that.

‘’A dream come, true.’’

I remain close bend over, half resting on his chest admiring him ‘’Oh its very much so a reality.’’ I begin sighing contently tracing his face with my left and free hand ‘’You and me, together again.’’ I pause to let it sink in ‘’Never to be separated again.’’ I silently promise, certain of my words as I know I will stop at nothing to protect him ‘’You are my everything too.’’ I admit seeing how his eyes slightly widen.

‘’My whole reason of being.’’ I whisper as I lean down, staring into his pretty eyes, my gaze slipping only to his lips and back up to capture them. He moans breathlessly into the kiss which is neither slow nor speedy. I keep it simple and rather, light as I focus on pushing the chemise lower whilst I climb onto his lap, my hair falling around our faces like a curtain.

‘’My Sebastian.’’ I break the kiss, imitating him from before but taking more time almost torturously so but in the best away possible as I kiss the corner of his nose, his temple, above his relaxed brown, then begin my descend down his cheek ‘’Handsome as ever.’’ I let my tongue dart out teasingly ‘’Drawing me in with your mere presence. Enough to keep me wanting you for years.’’ I groan, as I trace the side vein in his neck, still merely kissing him feeling how his hands push away the fabric of my chemise hands resting over my hips, trembling as I put a hold under his chin, directing his head in the way I want to. And he goes along with it.

He lets out little sighs, at the contact of my lips over his skin, specially whenever I ghost over a scar. I buckle my hips against his abdomen, his body jerking automatically which raises chuckles from him his whine loud.

‘’You even sound pretty.’’ I praise happily sitting up looking down at him. Seeing him breathless already, pleading eyes staring at me hair messy heart racing. Oh, how I’ve longed for him.

‘’Dashing.’’ I drag both hands, using my blunt nails to run down his chest watching as goosebumps arise over his skin ‘’Stunning, dapper, noble. There are not enough words to describe how amazing you are.’’ I lean down to steal a kiss giggling like a schoolgirl as I pull back Sebastian following. With a hand planted onto his chest I stop him in his tracks, winking. Lowering myself over his thigh I raise an eyebrow which I’m sure makes me look menacing as I can see his Adam’s apple bob.

‘’All I say it’s true. I’ve left you speechless.’’ I tease grasping the waistband, and without a second though pull down the fabric, watching as his manhood bobs up onto his stomach, body twitching again, his legs obviously in place as I’m settled on him.

‘’N-not true.’’ He gets out rising onto his elbows, as I observe the remnants of his release. Seeing there is to be a lot more movement and manoeuvring to get him rid of his undergarment, I grab the material and with some strength put into it tear it apart, Sebastian left with his mouth parted in a small ‘o’ shape.

‘’Ah it’s all very true.’’ I continue letting the now ruined material fall of the edge of the bed as I lie myself between his legs, my own hanging of the bed. Meanwhile I let my hands run up and down his thighs, smiling up at him ‘’I was never able to lie to you. I don’t see the appeal of trying it now.’’ I cheekily say, dipping down to press a kiss onto the side of his inner thigh, the muscles tensing at my ministration.

‘’Shhh relax, my love. Relax.’’ I encourage, looking up at him. I run my nails over his other thigh, whilst starting to suck lovely marks that will bloom later for a reminder.

‘’Enchantress.’’ He grinds through his teeth ‘’A divinity.’’

Thanks to his high praise I let my tongue out, dragging it over his thigh making a show of it ending up moving up like a predator keeping my gaze as such, chin tilted downwards as I lick at his half-hard cock the twitch immediate.

‘’It’s merely me, Sebastian.’’ I say in a low tone, grasping his manhood with my right hand rising it up taking it in, the veins, the head, everything only after looking at him. He looks destroyed already, something I always dreamed of seeing ‘’Only me.’’

And with that I experimentally suck on his tip, the groan he lets out sounding like someone is strangling him whilst his body tenses hands grasping the duvet underneath us twisting it.

With some focus I pry my left hand from his thigh, taking his hand in my own his hold tense. It doesn’t deter me, as I run my tongue over the mushroom head licking the excessive precum, not enjoying the taste but enduring it gladly, seeing how he keeps trashing – and I’ve barely done anything.

Giving him some mercy thanks to the pleading look he gives me I relent, and begin to sink on his cock, flattening my tongue as I descend, closing my eyes as I concentrate on my breathing. I barely get him in my gag reflex already making my throat contract, so I help myself with my right hand, droll dripping from my lips.

Ignoring the tears in my eyes I push forward sucking once, making it my mission to please him further by sinking more.

‘’No, no, no stop, Mc please…’’ he raises up hands gentle as they cup my cheeks pulling me off him. I gasp for air, not minding the spilled tears or droll. Neither does he as he’s quick to wipe them.

‘’I’m sorry I didn’t mean…’’ I begin to panic thinking I did something wrong, and that didn’t like, even as he shakes his head his smile shaky at best, the kiss that follows not so reassuring.

‘’You did wonderful.’’ He breaks away to reassure me holding onto me firmly, readjusting his hold so he can manhandle me this time to sit back, higher over his thighs and to be level with him ‘’You’re a minx, a temptress you are. More perfect than I ever imagined I swear it.’’ He grins happily pressing a chaste kiss ‘’But I don’t want to cum so soon.’’ He looks at me in despair mixed with hope.

‘’You…wow…’’ it daunts on me his extreme reaction, as I observe his face needing to make sure he is telling me the truth ‘’Okay.’’ I find myself saying his smile winning over my heart all over again as he pulls me against him, his cock right underneath me, hot and hard.

‘’I simply cannot resist you.’’ He confesses hugging me for the moment being ‘’You are truly everything to me. You’re too good to me. I want to make you feel good too.’’ and with those words and his strategically placed hands on my chemise he rips the pants portion at first, ending up destroying it with more ease than I did pulling the material away from us.

‘’You already make me feel good.’’ I state planting my knees into the mattress, my right-hand dipping between us, and through my slit collecting the wetness which I then raise up ‘’See?’’ my tongue lowers again. I hold his chin with my left hand, offering two of my fingers. He gets the hint opening his mouth tongue peeking out to which I let him taste me ‘’Hmmm.’’ I moan lightly smirking, pulling my fingers out.

I grasp his dominant hand dipping both of our hands to my folds, the astonishment on his face one I shall remember forever, as he does a double take, his fingers departing from my own making me shudder and groan as he touches my clit.

‘’See what you do to me?’’ I begin my breathing slightly unsteady as he doesn’t pull away ‘’Feel how wet I am for you. What you do to me Sebastian.’’ I gasp as one finger prods at my entrance, entering me gradually his face one of concentration and observation.

A face I’ve seen many times before when we were studying. But never have I seen it in this context which sheds a whole new light on him. He nods at my words slowly ‘’Guess what?’’ I grin close to press my lips against his ear to be a tease, while he wiggles in a second fingers making me sigh at being finally touched ‘’This is all you. Noone else can do this to me. Only you. Always you.’’

He moans at that, ending up groaning as he pulls his fingers out, rolling us on the bed, time for laughter over as I’m once more on my back, but with him spreading my legs wide open making a place for himself between them, his manhood hot as he rubs it against my wet folds.

Bent over, one hand reaches to hold the back of my head angling me however he wants me, his lips bruising as he demands all of my attention. And it’s what he gets as I moan helpless as his cock begins to push inside me. He breaks apart as if in disbelief, gasping for air the bravado gone the more he pushes in, the stretch pleasant and exciting as I want him to hurry along.

But lost in the way he’s handling us, the way he feels, I get lost in the way he looks how intense this is for him, how taunt he goes once he bottoms out, looking at me incredulously.

‘’It’s not a dream.’’ I find myself saying grasping his head forcing him to stay grounded ‘’It is all real.’’ I grin seeing the wobble in his lower lip ‘’My husband.’’ I remind by showing him my ring, ending up dropping onto the bed, as he thrust catching me of guard.

‘’Whow.’’ I say in awe blinking up at him and then glancing down to see us connected.

‘’My wife.’’ He finally speaks ‘’Mc.’’ He says my name clearer to which I nod.

‘’Yours Seb. Only yours.’’ I reassure my body this time jerking as he pulls back and rather harshly thrust back in. It’s proof of inexperience and the fact that he is driven by need mirrors our days in school perfectly. We’d fool around, take risks, we’ve explored each other’s bodies, and have been each other firsts. But it sadly didn’t go further as he was taken prisoner soon after our night of love-making that resulted in some tears but unbroken promises.

‘’M-mine. Only mine Mc.’’ He nods vigorously repositioning his hand, one on my hip one on the bed a look of determination drawing itself across his features ‘’Mine.’’ He says like it’s a matter of fact, pulling back only to set up a rather ruthless pace. Having imagined our reunion in these kinds of circumstances as well – because I have needs to duh – I’ve not imagined him to be like he is.

To just take from the get-go in such a manner. He was always delicate when it came to the more intimate matters, even with his eagerness and firey passion. I can see both of that here, I can feel it in the way he’s changing and angling his hips differently, eyes focused solemnly on my face as I hold onto the bed for dear life, the feeling of what were merely tingles before now turned into live sparks, that are zapping through my body.

It has my toes and fingers curling, the need to curl in on myself great as my thighs begin to shake, my lower abdomen pooling with insane amount of heat. It has tears gather in my eyes once more but this time for other reasons as I feel good all over it being overwhelming.

I practically shout as something brushes my clit. It has me forcing my eyes open as I see Sebastian lick his fingers and drop it to my clitoris, his hand calloused and rough but oh my gods its perfect and exactly what I crave for. What I need.

‘’That’s it, Mc.’’ He approves a small smile forming on his lips ‘’You feel so good.’’ His jaw goes tight as he clenches his teeth, suddenly pinching my clit.

‘’Ah fuckkkk Sebastian.’’ I yelp shaking my head ‘’Harder, fuck me harder, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum…’’ I repeat like a broken record suddenly hugging myself keeping my breast from bouncing as an electric current is running all over.

‘’And who is making you…ugh…cum huh? Who is the one…ahhh, cherishing you like you deserve…ugh to be?’’ he says through his teeth, his gaze wild as he stops for a moment twisting my left leg over his chest and shoulder changing everything entirely the new angle, making my eyes cross over one of Sebastian’s hands pushing my arms away as he grabs onto my boob, squeezing it.

‘’Y-y-you.’’ I reply shakily having a death grip on his arm not knowing what else to do. It’s hard to process that I need to breathe at the moment, my body doing things on its own.

‘’I didn’t hear you, dear wife.’’ He barks with an edge in his voice. His eyes. His demeanour.

But it’s not enough to make me realize it, as he leaves me absolutely dumb on his cock, the only thing on my mind selfishly is to cum.

‘’You, you, you, you Sebastian.’’ I speak strained my muscles contracting, as his hand resumes circling my clit sealing the deal ‘’My Sebastian, mine.’’ I babble, eyes closing tight as white noise fills my ears barely registering the noises I’m still making, only feeling how he rocks against me, how he moves so precise and hard the orgasm washing over otherworldly as it keeps going on.

Faintly I am aware of Sebastian manoeuvring me into another pose, continuing past the shakes and trembles that overrun everything else. Sooner or later something in my brain kicks it into gear to pump air into my lungs as I breathe heavily, enjoying the tingling but otherwise spent.

Feeling an arm settle over my stomach is what encourages me to come back so to speak. I raise a hand up to wipe away the corner of my eyes only then prompting them open. Looking around I acknowledge we have been turned to lie comfortably on the bed with our heads cushioned against the pillows.

Or well…mine. Glancing down feeling the heat radiating on my right it’s Sebastian. Instead of backing away like I’d assume men would do, he has plastered himself onto my right side, using my bicep as a cushion, one arm thrown over my mid-section, one leg over my right.

Dropping my arm, I’m surprised to find he is awake and has come to his senses quicker than I have as he grasps my left hand, fingers dancing with my own. It doesn’t take him long to feel the outline of the wedding ring.

‘’I didn’t even get you an engagement ring.’’ He mutters bending my hand holding it above my chest as he examines my hand and the piece of jewellery.

‘’Technically that would be on me too.’’ I think aloud my voice slightly hoarse. Must be the screaming ‘’I did propose and marry us.’’ I snort ‘’Did all the heavy lifting, didn’t I?’’

I turn to look down at him, just as he peeks up at me, fingers intertwining with my own as he rests our hands next to me for comfort.

‘’I did have a ring.’’ Is what he says, the statement leaving me bewildered which I’m not quick enough to hide as he sighs, looking away ‘’I had a few ideas for proposing. A few spots to choose from.’’ He quiets down again. Bending my right hand, I start to caress his back in reassurance.

‘’Knowing you back then, you had the most rageous ideas, didn’t you?’’ I smirk looking ahead of us at the painting I have above the dresser. It’s a muggle painting so it doesn’t move, but it depicts a castle in Scotland. A castle that’s very similar to Hogwarts. It was too charming not to buy.

‘’You’ve no idea.’’ He blows air looking up at me ‘’I think you’d flat out reject me at some of the propositions I had in mind.’’

I laugh ‘’I probably would.’’ I agree looking down to meet his gaze amused. We fall silent.

‘’I tried to tame a dragon…’’

‘’Oh, Seb noo!’’

‘’Heyyyy I was head over heels! I’d do anything! You deserve the best!’’ he rambles as I laugh in amusement observing as he raises onto his left elbow looking at me adoringly ‘’I swear.’’ He chuckles ‘’I was foolish at times and even stupid. But crazy? I was crazily in love with you. And that has not changed.’’ His smile is exactly the smile he used to have back then.

And it slowly daunts on me. Reality sinking in. That he is here to stay. I have finally freed him. He is in my grasp. He still loves me.

‘’Oh hey, no tears. Why the tears?’’ he jumps as they gather quickly and are instant to fall down my cheeks ‘’Mc.’’

Instead of answering I kiss him softly.

‘’I’m just so happy.’’ I admit smiling widely ‘’You make me incredibly happy it’s all.’’

At this he is taken aback features softening, and I’m sure his own eyes filling with tears ‘’Me too Mc. Me too.’’

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// Masterlist 2024 //

Copyright 2024© by barbika1508. All rights reserved.

#sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy smut

[ohtobeleah]

Secret Sacrifices // Jake Seresin

Chapter Two: [Like A Brick]

Summary: With the weight of the world sitting on your shoulders, you confide in the gentle soul that is Bob Floyd. Also known as, your first kiss.

Warnings: Jake Seresin x F!reader. Witness Protection F!reader. Platonic Bob Floyd x F!reader. Mentions of death. Mentions of drowning.

Word Count: 2.8k

Author Note: I'm Back! To get back into the swing of things I thought this little chapter would do us good. although this chapter is mainly focused on Bob and Brewer, we, being @a-reader-and-a-writer and myself, thought it deserved its own moment to really capture the significance of the shared secrets.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Being caught deep in swirling memories wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you. Being swept along with the tide, the waves of which push and pull your mind between present times and your past. The very idea of being caught between realities, a paradoxical space between now and then always seemed to be better than the alternative. Live through hell.  

“My mum says I’m too young to kiss girls.” 

Thoughts of who you could have been and thoughts of who you became push together to create a constant state of flight. Nostalgia is like a whirlpool that you drown in deep inside your mind. You’re unable to tread water as you feel the waves breaking against your skin, forcing you under as you gasp for air. What good were those swimming lessons you were forced to partake in as a child? 

“Do you tell your mum everything, Bobby?” 

Your mind becomes an unblended mix of memories you’d like to replay on repeat, and those you’d like to hide. Nothing ever seemed simple anymore. Not even the memory of your first kiss. The memory that you’d once considered colourful was now shrouded in forced denial. It couldn’t have happened, for you weren’t Y/n Y/l/n anymore. 

“What’re you still doing here?” It has been a long night, so long the sun had just started to kiss the horizon as you made your final lap around the front and back decks of the Hard Deck. Bob sat patiently waiting on one of the picnic tables, typing away something on his phone. 

Your voice must have startled him, but you’d never make fun of the way the Back Seater jumped enough to knock the chair his boot-clad feet were resting on into the small outdoor pot plant that sat beside the table. You watched it rock back and forth before steadying itself once again, like a boi floating in the current. That same current that had on many occasions, tried to drag you under. 

“I thought for sure you would have been the first one out the door?” You followed up on your initial question as you collected an empty glass you’d missed. Bob pocketed his phone with a tired smile as he looked your way. 

“Fanboy’s still in the bathroom with Payback–” Bob explained softly as he looked your way. “Big night, someone had to be the deso though.” You could see it in Bob’s eyes, the colour of a clear blue sky through a broken prison wall. He wanted to ask, wanted to bring it up. He knew you were lying, but why was the biggest question. 

“I was gonna call them and the other stragglers a taxi—“ Only a handful of patrons remained inside the Hard Deck as you went about your closing duties. Usually, you would have kicked them out by now. You weren’t necessarily one to want to hang about with people possibly lurking in the shadows. But two-thirds of the stragglers left behind were none other than two-sevenths of the Hard Decks top contributors. “If I had known you were coming back for them I would have told you not to worry,” The chuckle that left Bob’s voice at your statement was undeniably genuine. “I would have sent them home with vomit bags tucked into their back pockets too.” 

“That’s why they pay you top dollar I guess?” Ever since Bob first saw you behind the bar that very first night, he knew he knew you. It wasn’t some distant memory of a forgotten past for Robert Floyd. The memory of his first kiss was an easy one to recall from the rolodex inside his mind. It just so happened to be a core memory that unlocked a whole other category of life’s simplest pleasures. But the more you denied its existence, or more specifically denied you were the one who ultimately shared in that childhood memory, Bob wasn’t sure if he’d dreamt the whole thing or not.

Perhaps his first kiss came a hell of a lot later in life than he always thought. 

“Top dollar?” You had to stifle your laugh as you joined Bob on the picnic table. As you sat with a small huff, you knocked your knee against his playfully. “Please, but the tips are good.” 

There was a heavy silence so deafening that washed over the two of you not too long after you finished speaking. Its gravity felt like an intense pressure forcing itself down against your chest. The longer you and Bob sat there in pure silence, the more time slipped unwillingly through your fingertips, the more your heart beat faster inside your chest. 

The silence magnified the pressure mounting, and the scale of your anxiety all felt like it was about to come to a boiling point. As you sat there next to Bob in shared silence, it felt as if the world had turned once again on its axis, and you were just a few short seconds away from falling off the face of the earth. 

“I have a small confession to make,” It wasn’t ever supposed to be aired in the open, but the guilt that sat heavily on your conscience was making it harder and harder to keep lying. For three years you had told not a single soul, but Bob Floyd had created a paradox of inner turmoil you weren’t prepared to harbour. “To be perfectly honest it isn’t all that small of a confession.” 

“Brewer,” Bob sighed almost reluctantly. The last thing he ever wanted to do was force someone into sharing intimate details of their life. “If there’s a reason why you keep denying it, I’m sure it’s a good one,” Bob had thought about this long and hard, there surely had to be a reason why. He was adamant that you were the girl who kissed him all those years ago. That yellow pigment in your eye was the dead giveaway. He couldn’t ever forget looking into the eyes of the girl who had pressed her cotton candy-flavoured lips against his for three point-five seconds. “And you don’t have to tell me that reason, but, at least tell me, I’m not crazy.” 

Again, the silence was deafening as you sat with your secrets for the last few moments. Only a handful of people knew, all of whom were involved in keeping you safe and working your witness protection case. If news got out that you had told someone intimate, key details of your current situation, you’d be forced to restart a whole new life once again. But Bob was different. He was worth the risk for an ounce of normality. 

“You aren’t crazy,” It was all the confirmation Bob needed, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to share your personal hell. “I uh, I remember.” You hadn’t told a single soul in three years. You’d been through a thousand things in your life that people didn’t know about. You had experienced things that would shock them if you mentioned the horrors. Those things changed you. Hell—they broke you. 

“Bob, I haven’t been Y/n Y/l/n in a little over three years now,” You hung your head low as you spoke, almost like you were afraid that if you looked anywhere but between your feet, you’d see the bloodied and bruised ghost of your dead husband. “I, uh,—saw some things that I shouldn’t have,” The shake in your voice was hard to mask, the sting in your eyes burned like ice against your skin. “I thought that maybe I should tell someone about what I saw, and when I did that I—“ 

“Brewer,” Bob's voice was soft enough to be barely audible, but you heard him. “You’re in witness protection, aren’t you?” Bob took your immediate silence and broken sob as a definitive yes. He couldn’t even say the idea hadn’t crossed his mind after all the shutdowns and denial. 

“I lost my family,” You had a taste of what true love felt like. To experience such an emotion was the greatest gift of all. You loved your son, Charlie, to the moon and back. So much so that you wished every night you let your head fall against your pillow, that you’d be reunited. “I was set to testify against the company I worked for in some whistleblower trial, but the day before I was set to take the stand, we were run off the road.” 

Bob sat silently beside you just taking everything you were saying in. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to be in your shoes. To some degree, he almost felt guilty for all the times he couldn’t let the kiss memory go. Every time he brought it up in hopes you’d finally cave and give him the validation he was looking for, it probably felt like an old wound being ripped open. 

“You have to understand that I don’t get a choice very often over who I let in,” You finally had to look up, and when you did? Bob was already looking at you. You could see the sympathy plastered across his face in your peripheral. “You can’t tell anyone, and I know it’s a burden to bear, believe me,” The tears had begun to fall long ago and seemed to never stop, but when you finally worked up enough courage to look toward the backseater who sat beside you, your tears were mirrored. “And I know it’s unfair to burden you with such a thing,” The very idea that Bob was now one of the very few people who knew about your situation didn’t taste all that great, but you couldn’t take it back now. You couldn’t shove your secrets back into the can you’d just released them from in a moment of vulnerability. “But please, you can’t tell anyone.” 

Bob Floyd was, if anything, a wallflower. He didn’t like being the centre of attention. If he could, Bob would happily spend any time he had off work in the comfort of his own home. He’d spend his free time working on the world map puzzle that had been sitting half-finished on his coffee table for months. But Bob never got to spend those free moments working on his hobbies, no. His found family more often than not would drag him to the Hard Deck. Most of the time Bob would settle into the background and try his best not to draw attention to himself, he couldn’t begin to imagine what it was like to stand in the middle of a crowded room and not be seen for who you really were. 

“Nothin’ to tell Brewer,” Bob shrugged his shoulders. “And even if there was? I’m not the gossip type.” 

That very fact gentled your soul. All you could do as the overwhelming sense of loneliness overtook you was sob. Bob let you lean your head on his shoulder. His arm soon found itself wrapped around you as your sobs grew stronger and more pained. Tears stained your cheeks as the trails they made collected the makeup you wore, leaving clear indications of distress behind. 

“You know there was this girl,” Bob wondered if now was an appropriate time to share his own darkest secret. The idea of maybe holding onto something so important to one another may have softened the blow of knowing Bob held your greatest secrets in the palm of his hand. Perhaps if he shared his own with you, that feeling, that heaviness he knew you felt, would be a little easier to live with. “Her name was Bieanna, everyone back home called her Brick though.” 

You had to collect yourself enough to get your breath back before you could speak. Bob understood that. He sat in the silence broken with gentle sobs that softened as more time passed. He wanted until you were ready to speak. 

“What did everyone call her Brick?” The question came out easily enough, but the way Bob stiffened at the question as you raised your head from his shoulder made you question if it was harder to hear than to ask. 

“She never learnt how to swim–” Bob mumbled as he looked out into the empty car park of the Hard Deck. “If she tried she’d sink–” He waited for you to finish the sentence, and you did. 

“Like a Brick.” The realisation wasn’t hard to notice in your saddened eyes. If anything, Bob wondered if he had to continue his story of tragedy or not. You were a smart girl, he knew you could put two and two together. But he wanted to share, he wanted to let you know you could trust him wholeheartedly with your secrets. And you with his. 

“Bingo,” Bob smiled softly as you whipped your tears from your heated cheeks. “She ended up drowning a few months after we started dating.” 

“Oh, Bob.” Your heart ached for the Back Seater who sat beside you. “I’m so sorry.” 

“The worst part is I could have done more to save her,” Bob pressed his lips into a fine line of guilt. “She’d been going great guns for a few weeks while I was teaching her how to swing on her family’s property just outside of town,” Bob could very clearly still remember the taste of the dirt-laced water he’d ingested trying to save her. He could still see the panic in her eyes. “She got her foot stuck in some weeds at the bottom of the damn, panicked, and despite everything I did, I couldn’t save her,” 

“It wasn’t your fault, Bob–” 

“It was my idea to teach her own to swim though,” Bob admitted as he let his elbows rest on top of his knees. “I don’t ask people to swim anymore, and I’ve never told anyone about the fact she sometimes visits me in my dreams,” Bob explained as he let out a sigh that he wasn’t aware he’d been holding in. “But now you know, and now the secrets we keep don’t seem so heavy.” 

The very idea of knowing one of Bob’s longest-kept secrets made you feel a little better about him knowing yours. You trusted Bob, there was no doubt about it. But that gesture of solidarity made you feel safe, trusted. 

“No one can know, Bob,” You finished the conversation at that, faking a small smile as Fanboy and Payback came barreling out through the front doors of the Hard Deck. You were instantly on your feet, back in work mode as you wiped away the remaining tears that stained your cheeks. 

Bob watched on from his perch on top of the picnic table as you attempted to wrangle the two drunk and disorderly men who could barely tell which way was up and what way was down. He let a few moments pass as he watched on, allowing your life-altering, world-shattering secrets to plague his mind with what-ifs and worst-case scenarios. The very idea that there were people in this world after you didn’t sit well with him. The fact you’d been living a stranger’s life for three years made him want to hug his mother a little tighter the next time he got the chance to see her. He couldn’t begin to imagine to heartache of losing a child, but he knew enough of grief to know what losing a significant other could do to a person. 

And for someone who had experienced the worst of what life had to offer, you still saw the very best in people. 

“Alright you two drunks, let’s get you two home in one piece,” You chuckled as you walked the aviators over towards where Bob sat. “Taxi’s waiting and the meters running.” 

“You’ve given us alcohol poisoning, Brewer,” Payback mumbled as he stumbled with you over to where Bob was. Bob stood with a groan to collect Fanboy from beside you.

“Oh piss off, will ya Reuben–your liver will thank me for cutting you off when you did,” you teased as you handed the men over to Bob with ease. “Get these two home safe Floyd.”

“Will do Brewer.” Bob's soft smile and kind-natured nod was all you needed in response to know he meant his words. “Have a good night, or morning I guess.” 

You watched on from the veranda as the three men walked across the sandy car park and over to Bob’s Suzuki, knowing that the next time you saw Bob amongst his Squadron—there would be no mention of that first kiss. 

***~***~***~***~***~**

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[captainsophiestark]

The Hard Call

Azriel x Reader

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Requeted by Anon! Nonnie, thank you for enabling me to write about Az and Flynn, I absolutely love you for it ❤️ Feel free to drop by any time you want to talk anything SJM-related! Hope you like this, and good news, I have a Flynn fic coming in the next couple days too!

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses

Summary: Azriel made the hard call when he had to, but he's feeling pretty guilty about it.

Word Count: 1,610

Category: Angst, Fluff

WARNING: House of Flame and Shadow spoilers below the cut!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I swore under my breath as Nesta jammed Ataraxia into the back of the Daglan, the Asteri, whatever it was called. Black blood spurted out of its mouth, but a moment later, the thing—Vesperus—pushed back against the tip of the blade and removed it from her chest. It shouldn't have been possible for something to survive a direct hit like that from Nesta and that sword, but a lot of things from the past few days shouldn't have been possible.

When a fae female had landed in a heap on the River House lawn in front of my mate, I knew we were in for some strange new challenges. But never in a million years could I have predicted the journey she'd led us on through tunnels apparently running all under the Night Court, straight into the heart of the Prison. And now we were facing down one of the most dangerous creatures in the universe, just me, Az, and Nesta, with the female Bryce as an unreliable additional ally.

I tightened my grip on my sword and tried to calm my racing heart as I stood shoulder to shoulder with Azriel. We'd gotten through countless life and death situations together before, but for the first time in a long time, I wasn't sure we'd be able to get out of this one.

Vesperus gave Nesta a horrifying smile as the wound in her chest quickly healed. I glanced to Az, but he kept his eyes locked on the monster before us.

"Ataraxia didn't work," Nesta breathed. "The Trove-"

"Do not summon the Trove," barked my mate. Based on what we knew about this thing before us, I immediately agreed. "Don't bring it near her."

"But-"

"Not even for our lives," he snarled, leaving no room for argument. The same harsh resolve solidified itself in my mind, and I braced myself for the possibility of a last stand. At least if we went down, it would be fighting side by side with my mate.

A flicker of shadows floating softly over my shoulders was the only indication that my mate felt the same. The Daglan grinned, and I got ready to pounce.

****************

Hours later, I sat slumped in my favorite chair in the Velaris townhouse, trying to recover from everything that had happened under the prison. We'd managed to kill the Daglan-Asteri, despite Bryce trying to question it, no matter the risk to our world. But she had gotten away in an impressive display of power, which meant her world's Asteri might have a chance at using her to find us.

Needless to say, when Az, Nesta, and I had made it out of the Prison, we'd had a lot to debrief about with the rest of the Inner Circle.

Nobody was happy about the situation we now found ourselves in, but for the time being, there was also nothing we could do about it. So once we made a basic plan to try to gather information and prepare in case something from that other world came back, we all split off for our separate tasks. Az still had a few things to go over with Rhys, but I was free for the time being, so I'd come to my favorite cozy spot in Velaris to try to come down from the insane adrenaline that had been pumping since Bryce got here.

One perk of Rhys and Feyre building the River House and Nesta keeping Cassian at the House of Wind more often was that the townhouse, my personal favorite location, was often free for Az and I to use as our own. I closed my eyes in my favorite armchair by the fire, still in my fighting leathers, and focused on taking deep breaths to try to get the tension out of my shoulders.

I'd actually almost managed to drift off to sleep when I heard the front door open and shut heavily. I didn't need to look to know Az had just arrived, so with a deep sigh to drag me back from the edge of sleep, I raised my head and turned to look at my mate.

"Everything figured out with Rhys?" I asked. He nodded once, moving into the room with a face like stone. I frowned, sitting up and paying a little better attention as he took a seat on the couch, his gorgeous hazel eyes never leaving mine. "What's wrong?"

A muscle in Az's jaw ticked, and I knew he was mustering a response to my words. Despite his reputation as the unreadable spymaster, all our time together as friends and then as mates had given me a leg up on everyone else who tried to read his expressions.

I stood from my seat in the armchair and moved to sit before Az on the couch instead, taking his hands in mine. His eyes searched my face, and I let a small smile work its way through the exhaustion, trying to put him at ease. He could take however long he needed to, and I'd be ready to listen when he wanted to talk.

"I'm... sorry."

I raised an eyebrow. "For what, exactly?"

That muscle in his jaw was working over time, the rest of his face the same inscrutable mask he'd worked so hard to perfect.

"For what happened in the Prison. For... being willing to let you die down there, rather than risk Nesta summoning the Trove. You deserve a better mate than that."

My jaw dropped, shock preventing me from responding for a few small moments. Az just kept staring at me, and even though his face didn't show it, I could feel the guilt eating him up at his core.

"Az, you have nothing to apologize for!" I finally managed. One of his eyebrows quirked up and he frowned, expressing doubt at my words without speaking one of his own. I huffed and squeezed his hands tighter.

"Listen to me, Azriel. The reason you are my mate is because you made that decision in the Prison. We both know that letting something like that into the world with a weapon like the Mask is an unacceptable option, as long as there is anything in this world we can do to prevent it. If the Daglan or the Asteri or whatever she was had gotten her hands on the mask, it probably would've cost the lives of everyone we've ever cared about, and the rest of this world along with it. Nothing is worth allowing that to happen."

Az ground his jaw, his gaze softening and his eyebrows furrowing as he continued to scan my face.

"Are you... sure? Cassian and Rhys... I think they'd tear the world to shreds for their mates."

I just shrugged. "For what? If the world is gone, if the cost of that choice is absolutely everything else, then what's the point of saving each other in the first place? We'd have nothing left, other than the blood of the world on our hands."

Az grunted, and I shifted closer to him, bringing one hand up to cup his cheek.

"Az. I love you, so much, and a part of that love is because you're not so selfish as to risk throwing the world away for me. Especially since, more likely than not, we'd be dead anyway not long after she got that mask. Neither of us is selfish enough to make a call like that, and I love that about us. The only thing that matters is that we stand together as long as we can, and I knew damn well in the cave that if either of us was going down, we were going down side by side, fighting to our last breath. Obviously I'm happy we both made it out of there, and I'm not saying we shouldn't fight for each other, but that call you made today? I'd be pissed if you'd made a different one."

Az studied me for another second, and I let him see every truth and emotion written in my face. Finally, he sighed, the tension going out of his shoulders as he reached out and pulled me closer to him, arms around my waist. I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck and tangling my hands in his hair. We'd almost died today, and I wasn't about to take the fact that we were both still here together for granted.

"Have I mentioned lately how happy I am to have you as my mate?" Az asked, his voice a little gravelly as he leaned in closer to me. I smiled, leaning forward and letting my lips ghost over his own.

"Yeah, actually, you have. But I'll never complain about hearing it again."

Az smirked, then gently closed the last of that distance between us, his lips brushing softly against mine. I leaned into the kiss, eager for more contact, and I could feel Az's smirk widening right before I deepened the kiss. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me as tight to his body as possible, and I tangled my hands in his hair, letting myself get swept up in him.

I'd meant every word I'd said to my mate, about the choice he'd made and how I felt about it. But I was also incredibly happy it hadn't come down to the cost of our lives, and that we'd made it out of there together. And now that Official Night Court Business had been taken care of, I intended to fully celebrate and appreciate Azriel, and the fact that we were still here together. And I knew he intended to do the same.

****************

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