#my dreams shattered so easily | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soulaires · 3 months

Text

Sweet Dreams | A.W

pairings: dad!Aaron Warner x mom!Reader

synopsis: Aaron loves his daughter, he really do. Hell, he would burn down the world for her but sometimes,, all he wanted was to spend one night alone with you—his beloved pretty wife.

warnings: interrupted sexy times, domestic life, GIRL DAD AARON WARNER LESSGOOO, comfort, nightmares, Aaron Warner is so done, reader and dior are little shits, fluff, married life, light smut obvi, it was interrupted though (literally the whole plot) not proofread …

« words: 1,607┇ao3┇reblogs are appreciated! »

🏷 :: @ravisinghs-wife @ab-baybay @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @cosmicswan @nomournersonefuneral @lilyevansstudygroup @arinexeisnotworking

Aaron Warner is a good father.

He really is, he educated himself on the risks, pros and cons, he even bought himself a book on how to take care of his pregnant wife, a beginners guide on being a father and what not.

He would like to pride himself that he knows about everything, knows how to handle when the baby cries, when the baby throws a tantrum, or when his daughter wants something and such.

but…

If there was one fact no one mentioned to Warner about being a father, it was just how quickly his sex life would evaporate.

He loves dior, he really does. She is his most beloved daughter, baby girl, light of his life, his princess, his Achilles heel (plus you, of course.) and unfortunately the bane of his existence.

he’s kidding.

but of course there are some times that he just wants an alone time with you, his beautiful wife without being interrupted by a certain little princess.

All because you drove him to madness, igniting an insatiable desire within him, awakening the hidden beast that eagerly salivated and panted in response to your lustful glances, strategically unleashed whenever the mood struck.

He would be a fool to lie and pretend you didn’t stir something inside of him, some wretched version of himself rattled the bars of its cage, akin to a hurricane relentlessly tearing through barriers to reach you whenever you allowed your sugar-sweet voice to caress his sensitive ears.

He was a slave for the love you easily gave him as if it’s the easiest thing you can ever do. How can you easily love someone like him? a hopeless man yearning for thirst and begging for a single drink, a solitary taste, as if dying of thirst and pleading at your feet.

You were his goddess, and the privilege of sharing your bed, your throne, surpassed all his wildest dreams. Simply being by your side was more than he believed he deserved, and he vividly recalled the day he first encountered you—the day you convinced him that he was truly worth something.

—

The room is awash with the silvery glow of the moon, you notice, setting a tranquil atmosphere that amusingly contradicts the feverish warmth of Aaron's caresses. His kisses trace a journey from the curve of your neck to the hollow of your navel. However, any sense of composure shatters when your husband playfully bites your right nipple, sending all rational thoughts scattering out the window.

“Ah, Aaron,” you groan after a sharp nip against your collarbone. “fuck! baby…I—we can’t—!”

“Shh, we can, love. Dior is asleep” he whispers against your ear, “just let me take care of my wife, yeah?” He said as he caressed your hair, admiring your beauty under him. “It’s just us…” he said as he chuckled and that made you shiver.

“Pretty, momma…look at you, my pretty wife.” Aaron shifts to readjust himself as he hurriedly vanishes the remaining clothes and attacks your lips and kisses you passionately and hungrily as if he has been starved for years.

“Gods—look at you, ma, pretty as life and poison, want me to put another baby on you, hm?” he said as he dragged his teeth against your chest to taste your beating heart and he then placed soft and slow kisses on your face while stroking your face with his thumb.

You draw him closer, intending for a light and sweet kiss to allow your husband to continue his gentle touches. Yet, it’s not your fault that you find yourself getting lost in the sheer perfection that is Warner.

He, in turn, envelops both of you with his hand, stirring a gentle desire for more within you and oh, dear god, you need more.

Just as you are about to open your mouth to voice out your desires for a little more, a soft, almost inaudible knock interrupts the intimate moment.

The unmistakable soft voice of your three-year-old daughter pierces through the room, calling out, “momma..? dada..?” Panic flashes between you and Aaron, and hastily, you both scramble to locate your discarded clothes.

“mommy! daddy!” yelled dior through the door as she started knocking continuously that makes you and your husband panic more. “‘s da door broken..?!”

“just a second, princess,” Aaron softly calls out, panicking when his hard-on doesn’t seem to go away. Hell.

He glances up at his wife and stares at you, baffled when he realizes that you had already put on your night gown and on your way to open the door.

“Wha—how?” he asks in disbelief. “You were literally just—”

“Don’t underestimate me.” You joked.

Aaron dismissively shakes his head, muttering under his breath, and takes a seat on the bed, discreetly covering his arousal with the white comforter just as Dior bursts into the room and enthusiastically throws herself into your arms.

“Hey, baby,” you whisper, gently rubbing comforting circles on her back. “Nightmare, love?”

"Uh-huh," Dior nods against your neck, her tears leaving your nightgown slightly damp.

you picked her up and went to the bed as dior hugged her dad, sniffing as she softly cried, “oh, darling. What happened, princess? hm?” Asked Warner as he hugged his crying daughter to his arms.

“I—hiccup t-thought monsters got you,” said dior, her green eyes filled with tears. you then pulled her into a hug.

“aw, baby, we are fine,” you said, patting her back. you brush the blonde curls out of your daughter’s eyes. “yeah, sweetheart, no monsters here.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, looking suspiciously around their room.

“Promise,” you replied, assuringly as you stood up to rock her to calm her down.

“We promised, sweet princess. And if there is, daddy will scare the ugly monsters away,” your husband assured her from the bed as dior starting to calm down,

“really?” she said with a shaky voice and a glassy doe eyes and you almost cried seeing her state.

Poor baby.

“I promise, Di, daddy will protect you and momma.” Aaron said sincerely as you rocked her back and forth in your arms, running your fingers through her wild curls.

Dior sniffles start to quiet down. “Mhm…,” she says. “Can I stay here?” She looks at you with puppy eyes that is impossible for you to say no so you nodded.

“Of course, princess ,” Aaron responds, quietly mourning the loss of one night with his wife, alone.

As you continue rocking Dior in your arms, attempting to lull her into a peaceful slumber, your efforts are momentarily interrupted by her sweet voice, breaking the silence of the room.

“Mommy?” Dior queries after a few minutes, perched on your lap with a wide-eyed expression. “What's wrong with daddy?”

Your gaze shifts toward Aaron, who remains sprawled face-down on the bed, emitting occasional groans and muffled whines in his attempt to compose himself for the sake of your toddler. Suppressing a grin, you find amusement in his comical efforts.

“Well, Di,” you murmur, showering light kisses on your daughter’s chubby cheeks to conceal your amusement. “I think your daddy is having a nightmare, much like the one you just experienced.”

Dior gasps in innocent concern. ”Oh no! Mommy, give daddy kisses to scare the monsters away!”

Smiling at her pure-hearted suggestion, you gently explain, “I don’t think that will help, sweet thing.” Observing Dior's face scrunch up in confusion, you swiftly add, ”You see, adults have different nightmares than kids do.”

“But kisses always help!” Dior insists with unwavering conviction.

”Well, if you insist,” you reply, giving in to her innocent plea, and share a quiet laugh at the sheer delight evident on Dior's face.

As you comply with dior’s request, you peppered kisses onto your husband’s face, eliciting a chorus of giggles from both him and Dior.

After showering Aaron with a cascade of kisses, he playfully remarks, "Mhm, daddy is okay now, but he'll be even more okay if you give daddy a kiss too."

Dior, with her eyes sparkling, responds enthusiastically, "Okay, Daddy!" She complies, peppering him with a flurry of sweet kisses as you heard Aaron giggles so you did, and in the midst of the joyous exchange, she graciously plants kisses on your face, too.

“Thank you, baby. Ready for sleep?” You asked and the response is a barely there nod.

“Love you and g’night, little missy.” You whisper, your voice sounds like a lullaby to the quiet room.

Aaron chimes in, taking on the role of the protector, “daddy will be right here, chasing away any monsters that dare to bother you, emerald.”

Dior, even in her drowsy state, manages to mumble a sleepy “luvu, daffy, momfy” before succumbing to dreams. The room, now quiet except for the soft breathing of your little one.

Your husband then looked at you and softly smiled, “I’ll chase all of your monsters away, too, love.” you softly giggled and gave him a peck.

However, as the night deepens, you feel a pair of eyes on you. Turning your attention, you find your husband, his expression akin to a kicked puppy, a playful pout adorning his features. It’s a silent plea for the solitude that eluded him tonight, a longing for those moments when it’s just the two of you.

You meet his gaze, understanding the unspoken disappointment in his eyes. As a promise of solace, you assure him with a tender look that whispers, ”Next time, it'll be just us.” you promised him.

And you were never the one who breaks promises.

So, was it really a surprise that after you fulfilled your promise you found yourself with two positive pregnancy tests?

No, not really.

📫 :: my first post in 2024 ?!?!!? Anyway this will be a series !!! Next one will be the introduction of the new addition to the family and THE question of “where does baby come from?” From baby warner. Also, if you want to be added to my taglist please do let me know!

#reader insert #shatter me series #shatter me #aaron warner x reader #riewrites 🫀#aaron warner #aaron warner x you #aaron warner anderson #aaron warner imagines #aaron warner x y/n #girl dad aaron warner #dad aaron warner #fem!reader #mom!reader #husband aaron warner #The Warner Family 🪐

436 notes · View notes

yandere-writer-momo · 4 months

Text

Doomed Yuri in my brain. Doomed Yuri. Doomed yuriiii based of Bloodborne

May or may not make a part 2. Idk. Just needed to throw this out here before I lost my mind.

Yandere Short Stories: Doomed From The Start

Yandere Lesbian Paladin x Saintess Reader x Onesided Yandere paladin

There is a secret third Yandere but that’s only if I ever decide to continue

TW: uncomfortable religious themes, body horror, internalized homophobia (religion), monsters, Yandere and toxic behavior, etc

Swoosh! A strong gust of wind blew through Ludwig’s long black locks, which made the cleric appear to have a dark halo above his head. His face remained stoic as he made his way towards the church with his worn out entourage. Another successful hunt and he had made it back to the church once more… a shame his peace was quickly shattered by a certain saintess.

“Ludwig!” The tall paladin froze when small arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him close. His icy blue eyes turned to glance down at (your name), the saintess, in disinterest. “I’m happy you returned safely. How did the hunt go?”

Ludwig hummed in response while he moved her arms off his waist. He merely put up with the young woman to get close to her friend, Desiree. (Your name) was not his type like the other paladin was. (Your name) was a delicate flower but Ludwig longed for the thorn.

Ludwig himself had no interest in the bubbly flower but he needed her to get closer to his dream maiden. (Your name)’s affection for him did not matter.

“It was fine.” Ludwig told her as the two of them headed to the church together for him to give his report. His blue eyes softened when they landed on Desiree, she was magnificent as ever, even with the dried blood on her silver armor. Desiree appeared angelic even when she was drenched in the blood of her enemies. The white haired woman made a beeline toward to the two of them. “Lady Desiree-“

Ludwig was shocked when Desiree pulled (your name) into a constricting embrace, one that was most common with lovers rather than friends. Her lofty body easily wrapped around (your name) like a blanket, her pale nose buried into the crown of (your name)’s head. Desiree’s hot breath tickled the smaller woman’s scalp, which made (your name) burst in a small fit of giggles.

“You act as if you haven’t seen me for years!”

“Maybe it felt like years since the last time I saw you?” Desiree lifted her head off (your name)’s head to stare into her eyes. Desiree’s silver eyes pierced (your name)’s very soul. “I hurried back from my mission just to come see you, (your name).”

“I’m just happy you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do if my precious friend didn’t return from the front lines.” (Your name) squealed when Desiree ruffled her hair, the smaller woman immediately began to protest. “Desiree!”

Desiree smiled brightly at (your name). She couldn’t help but tease (your name)… especially in front of Ludwig. The dark haired man’s glare was so intense, it burned holes into their heads. Jealous much? “I brought you something too.”

Desiree reached into her leather satchel and handed (your name) a white rabbit foot. “I know you hate the blood we collect, but I made sure to bring you back a good luck charm.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything-“

“Of course I did. You’re always in the church all alone." Desiree smiled warmly at (your name). The taller woman took (your name)’s hand in hers. “How about we head back? It’ll rain soon.”

“Oh but…” (your name) glanced over at Ludwig whose jaw was clenched. His icy eyes narrowed at the two women with disdain. Why was he so upset? Was it because she put all of her attention on Desiree? “I was going to walk back with Ludwig. We can eat supper together if you’d like, Desiree?”

Desiree frowned but sighed in defeat. The white haired woman turned to the brunette with a frown. She didn’t understand what (your name) saw in Ludwig. He was awful to her. A starving wolf would be kinder to (your name) than Ludwig ever could be. But Desiree knew it wasn’t her place to dictate (your name)’s choices in life. “I’ll see you then, (your name). Be safe, okay? I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“I will. I’ll see you around.” (Your name) waved her friend off before she turned her attention to Ludwig. “I apologize for that, Ludwig. Shall we be on our way before the rain falls?”

Ludwig clicked his tongue and nodded. All he needed to do was walk alongside the gregarious woman and satiate her incessant chatter with a simple nod or hum in agreement. Ludwig was only close to her to get to Desiree. (Your name) was simple like a dog.

(Your name) beamed and walked alongside Ludwig, a heavy blush on her cheeks. She was happy to walk beside her crush. It was wonderful to see such a soft side to the normally stoic man.

Ludwig ignored the shy glances she snuck his way. He could not wait for the day that Desiree would look his way. Ludwig knew she had no such need for a burden like (your name) around her. Desiree nor him needed a pet… no. A dog around them.

Ludwig would have to gripe about this experience in his journal once more. The tea colored paper was his only confidant in this cruel world. For Ludwig trusted no one in the church’s that he dutifully served. Not the head of the church and certainly not the saintess.

A shame Ludwig would one day regret the way he treated the ‘dog’ that once so loyally stuck by his side like a tick…

The candlelight dimly lit up Ludwig’s study. His striking features now on full display to the prying eye. His slender fingers scribbled fervently into the tea colored paper of his leather journal. He wrote his woes with utmost sincerity in obsidian ink. Bits of the thick substance splattered all over his hand and onto the desk. Speckles that rivaled the abysmal eyes of the beasts he had slain now stained the mahogany wood. A mockery to his ‘holy’ mission to cleanse the land of the curse that plagued the land.

The monstrous beasts that roamed the valleys demolished villages with no mercy. There was no end to the wave of madness that had sprung up over the last few years when the nearby villages became plagued with poverty and famine. The monsters seemingly sprung up from the ashes and began to try to attack the kingdom. It sickened Ludwig.

Many fighters have come and gone throughout the years. Many have even gone missing in action… yet Ludwig and Desiree remained as the top two paladins of the church. The only two that had fought side by side for nearly a decade… which was why Ludwig was so smitten with the white haired woman. She was a force to be reckoned with. A magnificent fighter he wished to keep by his side until he drew his final breath. An unattainable goal that was thwarted by a mere saintess. If that wench didn’t exist, Ludwig was positive that Desiree and him would have been wed by now.

It was all (your name)’s fault that Desiree did not covet his affections. The only good news was that (your name) admired him. A ‘holy’ woman longed for a pious man like himself. It was so pathetic, it was comical. A weakness he would exploit until his daydreams burst into reality.

Ludwig clenched his fist when he finished the final line to his long list of complaints about his disdain for a certain saintess. A big splotch of ink covered her name now which made him even more annoyed. Even when (your name) wasn’t present, she still disrupted his peace.

Ludwig stood up and moved his quill and ink back onto his desk. Perhaps a walk would clear his head?

Ludwig gathered his snow white robes and exited his study, the door slammed shut behind him.

Unbeknownst to him, the pot of ink toppled over and split all over his desk. A puddle of black now laid all over the floor in a river of ink. An insidious omen.

Desiree sat in the confession booth, her hands folded together while she babbled a prayer. Forgiveness… she needed forgiveness for her sin.

“I am in love with someone of the church but I can never be with them. For I would burn in a pyre if I confess.” Desiree’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Will god forgive me for my grave sin?”

“You are forgive. Your sins are absolved.” The priest told her in a soft tone. “Lady Desiree, your devotion to god is like no other but even you are not without sin. I pray that you never stray from our god’s light and bring justice upon the land. That the blood you harvest for healing the sick and strengthening our clerics continue in a never ending flow. Bless you Lady Desiree, the Righteous.”

Desiree nodded and gathered her white skirts in her hands. She felt better now that she had gotten this off her chest. Yet she could not deny the queer feeling she had for her beloved saintess… her friend. Her precious (your name). Her angel. Her muse.

Desiree hurriedly made her way back toward her room, her mind raced with impure thoughts. She must paint… she needed to paint her muse.

Desiree paid no mind to her surrounding in her haste and her shoulder slammed into Ludwig’s. The cleric nearly doubled over in shock and joy. Had fate finally united him with the woman he desired? This was the first time they’ve had alone time since their last hunt.

“Lady Desiree, it’s lovely to see you-“

“Get the hell out of my way.” Desiree shoved past Ludwig with a huff which caught the cleric off guard. When was Desiree so uncouth? So ill-mannered? This was not the female paladin he knew, no. This was not her. This was not Lady Desiree, the Righteous.

The man ran a palm down his long black locks in shock. His heart didn’t stammer this time when he watched her silhouette disappear around the corner. The magic he swore she contained had fizzled out and died. The image he created of her in his head disappeared with it.

A reality slowly sunk into Ludwig. Perhaps he was not attracted to Desiree, but to the idea of her…

Ludwig sighed, perhaps he could pry information from (your name) about it? It was so easy to get the information he wanted from the saintess with sweet words.

(Your name) had her uses and Ludwig would exploit them for his own gain. He needed to be sure on whether or not the woman he saw tonight was the real Desiree. For if that was the case, perhaps he would settle for the saintess.

Possibly.

Desiree slammed the door shut behind her once she entered her study. Her hand hurriedly picked up some paint off her oak desk, a few brushes clattered to the floor in her haste. She had an irresistible urge to paint the woman she loved… wait. When did she paint such a perfect portrait?

Desiree collapsed to the floor to caress the delicately painted features of (your name). A desirous shudder escaped her plump lips as she traced her fingers over the face of her muse. She would sin once more. Desiree deserved this, she needed this.

Desiree had slaughtered thousands of beasts and harvested their blood in the name of the church. She deserved a reward. She deserved (your name) more than Ludwig did.

Desiree pressed her lips against the painting with a moan. She didn’t care that flakes of acrylic paint were on her tongue, she didn’t care that there was no warmth, and she certainly didn’t care that she was sexually attracted to another woman. To Desiree, this felt right. This was god’s will.

Desiree hurriedly untied the sash to her robe, her bare body now revealed to the eye of the moon. The moon her witness of her great sin, of her love for her friend.

“God forgive me… forgive your selfish soldier for I cannot deny this earthly pleasure. I do not wish to break my oath…” Desiree felt a few tears fall down her cheeks, she felt as if she lost control over her desire. Her head spun with dizzying emotion that would drive any sane person mad… ever since the church had insisted their soldiers drink the blood of the monsters, Desiree had been restless.

Restless with desire for her unreciprocated love… yet she’d never tell her precious angel the sinful feelings she held. Desiree would take this overwhelming affection to the grave.

Desiree turned to the painting that lay on the floor with a smile. For now, she could be satiated with this… for now.

And while she indulged herself in pleasure, white fur and various eyes began to sprout on her arms.

This was the start of a transformation. The beginning of the end.

“Help me. Help me!” (Your name) shot up from the bed, her heart raced in her chest like a race horse. Her body covered in a thick sheen of sweat. Another nightmare…

(Your name) couldn’t sleep. She was often plagued by nightmares of people crying for help ins own sort of dungeon… and it terrified her. She often had psychic dreams due to her divine power, but never ones these vivid… or terrifying.

There was something amiss in this church. That there was an invisible evil lurking in the air.

(Your name) rose up from her cotton sheets, to quickly wrap a robe around her white nightdress. Maybe a walk would clear her head?

(Your name) slid some slippers on her feet, snatched up the oil lantern beside her bed, and a match. She hastily brought the flame to life to find her way through the dark. (Your name) wanted to satiate this inordinate curiosity before it killed her.

She quietly left her room and glided down the hall like an apparition. Her long robes billowed behind her in the light breeze once she reached the open windows.

The moonlight illuminated her soft features, making her appear angelic… a suitable appearance for the saintess herself.

She allowed her feet to guide her down the hall and toward a hidden stair well. There was a sinister phenomenon going on beneath her. A truth that screamed for her to discover.

The farther she went down the stairs, the stronger the feeling of déjà vu became. The wall became more familiar… it was the one that haunted her dreams. The one in her nightmares.

And when she finally made it to the bottom of the stairwell, her entire body nearly convulsed in horror.

This wasn’t a dungeon… this was a laboratory. A laboratory full of the clerics and paladins who went ‘missing in action.’ Or at least what human pieces were left of them.

(Your name) begrudgingly stepped forward to glance at the books that laid open on one of the desks. The church was researching immortality through the blood of the monsters? Is that why they encouraged citizens and clerics alike to drink the blood? Good god… this was a crime against their god. This went against their entire purpose…

“Kill me… kill me…” (your name) put a hand over her mouth as she quietly began to sob for the poor soldiers whose humanity remained in tact. They didn’t deserve this… but she didn’t have the strength to kill them.

How was she to know that the church wasn’t actually helping people? That the church merely wanted to research how to gain immortality?

She needed to tell someone… she needed to report her findings to the citizens!

(Your name) quickly scurried away when she heard voices. Unaware that one of the paladins that laid in the dungeons had caught sight of her…

“(Your name)?” A distorted voice asked softly in the dark, multiple clawed hands grabbed at the steel bars that kept him contained. “My lovely girl is still so beautiful…”

“Hello, (your name).” (Your name) nearly leapt out of her skin when the familiar baritone voice of Ludwig reached her ears. She quickly whipped around with a rosy blush on her cheeks. (Your name) hadn’t seen the paladin over the last few weeks since she had been so busy sneaking around for information.

“O-oh you scared me, Ludwig…” (your name) bowed to Ludwig to try to hide her embarrassment. “I’m not used to you seeking me out.”

“Is there a problem with me seeking you out?” Ludwig quirked a brow at her which made (your name) hurriedly shake her head. She was like a rabbit. It would have been adorable if he were any other man, but alas he had no interest in her in that sense. She was a means to an end to him was all. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Not at all… have you come to ask about my whereabouts?” (Your name) asked in an excited tone, her face lit up with hope. “I found out something rather interesting. You see, the blood-“

“No. I actually came here to ask about Lady Desiree.” Ludwig frowned at how instantaneously (your name) deflated like a ballon. He needed her for this info so he should cut to the chase. “I ran into her the other night and she seemed a bit off… I’m concerned about my peer.”

“She has been a bit off lately… everyone has.” (Your name) replied softly. “The two of you, as well as the other paladins and clerics, have been consuming a lot of the blood for power right?”

Ludwig nearly sighed aloud in frustration. Was (your name) trying to sneak her research into this conversation? He couldn’t care less about that, he merely wanted to know if Desiree was actually uncivilized.

“Yes.”

“Desiree has been quite stressed lately. She’s been working really hard.” (Your name) frowned at Ludwig. She may be naive but she wasn’t stupid, she knew Ludwig didn’t want to hear about her secret discover… no one did. “I think she should take a break for a while, maybe she’d get back to normal quicker? I’m worried about her too, Ludwig.”

Ludwig nearly screamed aloud in frustration. (Your name)’s information wasn’t useful at all! She wasn’t useful and it took everything in him not to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze-

A flash of white hair caught his eye, which made him compose himself. There Desiree was- what on earth?

Desiree slammed her shoulder into Ludwig’s to bend down to hold (your name)’s hands with a soft smile on her face.

“You’re worried about me?” Desiree’s breathing is irregular and that’s when Ludwig noticed the bandages wrapped around her arms. Had Desiree injured herself? She didn’t have any injuries during the most recent hunt… “You don’t have anything to worry about, I’m perfectly okay.”

“Desiree, you have not been coming to my healing sessions and you’ve been so irritable lately.” (Your name) whispered, her eyes filled with concern. “Desiree, what happened to your arms?!”

Desiree looked nearly euphoric when (your name) fretted over her which raised alarm bells in Ludwig’s head. Why did Desiree act so strange around (your name) when he was right here? Ludwig deserved Desiree’s attention-

Ludwig felt bile rise in his throat when he thought he saw a red eyeball on the back of Desiree’s neck. What the hell was that?

Ludwig rubbed his eye and it was no longer visible. He swore he saw an abnormality on Desiree but perhaps his mind had played tricks on him. He had been exhausted as of late due to the mess the ink left behind on his desk and floor. It took days to scrub it all out. He had to get on his hands and knees like a beggar!

Yet there was still black ink stuck under his nails. He had tried to pick under them with a sharp tool but even then, the tar black wouldn’t leave his nails. It was unsightly… just like the disheveled Desiree before him.

“Nothing to be concerned about. I’m perfectly okay.” Desiree glared at Ludwig who seemed puzzled over the matter entirely. Desiree couldn’t stand that narcissistic jerk. “How about you come to my study with me?”

“Your study? We should go to the infirmary.” (Your name) grabbed Desiree’s hand and began to drag the paladin toward the infirmary. “Goodbye, Ludwig.”

Ludwig bit his tongue, his eyes narrowed at (your name) who dragged Desiree away. He was angry yet… why did Desiree look at (your name) like a starved animal? (Your name) was a helpless lamb… what if Desiree hurt her? Wait.

Ludwig felt his stomach flip in anxiousness. Why were his emotions so jumbled? Why did he care what happened to the saintess?

Ludwig went to turn on his heel to head back to his own study but an overwhelming emotion overtook him. He needed to follow them. He needed to know the truth.

And so the cleric slinked after the two in the shadows. Ludwig hoped Desiree didn’t find him creepy…

He didn’t think he’d be able to live with himself if his angel hated him.

(Your name) felt bile in her throat at the many eyes and patches of fur that littered Desiree’s arms. This was so much worse than she thought… Desiree was turning into a beast.

“It’s really not that bad-“ (your name) smacked her hands on Desiree’s cheeks. The healer slowly began to sob which instantly made Desiree frantic. “No, don’t cry. I’m okay-“

“I made a discovery awhile ago...” (Your name) sobbed as she placed her head on her friend’s shoulder for comfort. “The blood is tainted. It’s evil… but I can’t get anyone to believe me-“

“Darling, I assure you that I’m stronger than ever. This is merely a setback-“

“None of you are slaying monsters.” (Your name) muttered so softly, Desiree almost didn’t hear her. “You’re killing humans. I… I saw the missing soldiers in the basement and they started to turn into monsters. I don’t want you to go there too. I don’t want you to be an experiment…”

“I’m just so happy you care so much about me and the other soldiers.” Desiree smiled at (your name), her hands held (your name)’s in her calloused palms. “Your eyes are always on Ludwig so I had assumed he was the only star in your galaxy… it upsets me to see you fawn over that narcissistic bastard.”

“Oh I merely admire Ludwig. He’s very goal oriented and a great role model. He just makes me nervous is all. I don’t like him like that-“

(Your name) gasped when Desiree suddenly flipped her over to rest on the desk. Her hands desperately grasped at (your name) clothed skin. What on earth was Desiree doing?

“W-what are you-“ (your name) gasped when Desiree slammed her lips against hers in a hungry kiss. Desiree ground her hips into (your name)’s which made (your name) quickly shove her away. “Stop!”

Desiree gasped and began to stammer our apologies. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry!” Desiree felt tears gather in her eyes from the rejection. She hadn’t meant to make (your name) uncomfortable… she thought (your name) had wanted to kiss too! “I don’t know what came over me-“

Desiree gasped when (your name) leaned forward and began to use her divine power on her. A warmth enveloped desire as the eyes and hair slowly began to fade away.

“Do you feel better?” (Your name) sucked in a deep breath before she exhaled in relief. A bit of sweat dropped down her forehead. She didn’t realize how much divine power it would take to reverse the change… but it was possible. “If you start to change again, can you come to me?”

Desiree nodded her head, her cheeks still red with embarrassment. How foolish was she to believe the saintess harbored romantic feelings for her…

“I’m sorry for doing that. I’m so ashamed-“ Desiree’s eyes widened when (your name) placed a finger over her lips.

“You shouldn’t be ashamed.” (Your name) gave Desiree a reassuring smile. “Loving someone should never be shameful. You just shouldn’t kiss people without asking them.”

Oh… oh! Did this mean Desiree had a chance?!

“Then… can I kiss you, Saintess (your name)?” Desiree asked in a hushed voice. Her silver eyes heavy with lust as her body caged (your name) to the desk.

“Of course Dame Desiree.” (Your name) was instantly pulled into a hungry kiss. The two women’s hands awkwardly roamed each other’s bodies until they found the perfect ratio of petting to kissing.

Little did the two lovers know of a certain paladin who had seen the entirety of their confession. Large horns began to sprout from his head as black fur covered his body.

What did (your name) mean she didn’t like him like that? Then why did she always seek him out if she didn’t love him? Was this all a game of hers to take Desiree from him? To play with him like a cat does a mouse until it gets bored?

No… he couldn’t accept this. They couldn’t be together. No, one of them had to be with him.

Ludwig quickly scurried off into the shadows before he was discovered. His body rapidly changing from man to beast as his jealousy consumed him.

When Ludwig finally made it back to his study, his new appearance horrified him. He was now as ugly on the outside as he was on the inside…

He was a monster.

604 notes · View notes

fic-over-cannon · 4 months

Text

New Year’s Day

jason todd x f!reader

part of the holiday scenes series

summary: waking up with jason on New Year’s Day

tags: frotting, kissing, light dirty talk

rating explicit (mdni) | wc: 1k

a/n: wrote this in like four hours while traveling and posting while a bit tipsy, so i can’t guarantee that this is my best work. enjoy and have a wonderful new year!

(edit: i should mention that this was partially inspired by @ivysangel’s incredible fic and my brain going ‘hay if you were the one dreaming instead?)

You wake up slowly, disoriented and sleepy from the late night’s celebrations. It’s warm under the covers but you can’t help but feeling frustrated, like you’ve forgotten something on the tip of your tongue. Furrowing your brow, you can’t remember what it is, but the frustration is intensifying. Warm lips press between your eyes, smoothing out the wrinkles from your thinking face.

“Ah, awake yet sweetheart?”

Opening your eyes slowly, cautious in case the morning light decides to sear your tired eyes, you see Jason lying on his side, mouth twisted up in a mirror to your own frustration. Now that you’re looking at him, his teal eyes and wild bed head, you’re slowly becoming more aware of his presence. His carefully tense body, arm around you, hand flexing but not moving on your hips that are grinding unconsciously against the deliciously firm thigh between your legs. Oh, you think, unable to string together anything more complex.

There’s something hard and hot against your hip. Jason’s cock, if his full body shudder when you press into it is anything to go by. It’s warm and good and syrupy slow, your hips moving back and forth like they’ve got a mind of their own, seeking out more pressure, more friction to make you both feel good.

“M’awake,” you mumble, leaning into the crook of his neck and placing messy open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. All the while, your hips keep moving, circling. “More please,” you ask, ever so sweetly.

Jason groans, then rolls onto his back, pulling you with him. You’re fully on top of him now, the leg between yours bent so you can rub yourself on it more easily. There’s two hands gripping the plush of your ass, controlling your rhythm and pace now, pulling you down against him and getting you pressure you’d never achieve on your own. It also traps his cock between your bodies, the slow, filthy drag of your bodies against each other pulling hitching moans out of him. Your breath is coming in harsh little pants now, interrupted by whimpers as the pleasure in your aching cunt builds. Jason’s hips are twitching underneath you, the way they also do right before he comes. He’s got one hand in your hair cradling your head into his neck. Panting into the side of your face words of praise and encouragement as he keeps thrusting his hips up to meet yours.

“C’mon love, doing so good, so so good for me. Puttin’ your pleasure in my hands. Makin’ me feel so perfect. Gonna come soon, want you to go first baby. Want you to shatter for me, okay?”

And something about his words and the way his cock’s starting to kick under your belly has you flying apart, pleasure numbing in its intensity. Through it all, Jason keeps your hips circling, pressure on your clit steady and unyielding through the aftershocks. He goes tense underneath you under the weight of his own orgasm, before relaxing into the bed. Both of you are breathing hard, his heart pounding in his chest under your ear.

When you can find the strength to move, you crawl up Jason’s chest, prop yourself up on your elbows so you can kiss him properly. The sheets have tangled up around your hips sometime during your orgasm and Jason trails irregular patterns into the soft skin of your bare shoulder blades. The kiss is slow, unhurried and aimless. There’s no sense of urgency and so kiss for the simple pleasure of his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth.

Pulling back you breath out, “Hi,” before resuming your ministrations, making sure no inch of his mouth is left unkissed.

He laughs. “Hi yourself, gorgeous. What a way to start the year off.”

And strictly speaking, that’s not true. You’d rung in the new year together at an infamous Wayne gala. Crisp champagne had bubbled in a crystal glass, the murmur of polite conversation and soft classical music performed by a live orchestra the soundtrack to the evening. You’d learned to stop asking what you were drinking early on, when Dick’s answer about a specific vintage had made you so nauseated at the price, you’d nearly thrown up someone’s yearly salary. Jason had kept circling the canapés, bringing you back little bites he’d thought you’d enjoy and grinning in satisfaction at your reactions. A few minutes before midnight, all of the guests had been directed to the rooftop garden of the hotel. There had been gasps at the first fireworks that had quickly turned to applause. Under the blooming golden light, Jason had looked so pretty, still capable of awe in the face of beauty. You’d kissed at the last stroke of midnight, pressed your foreheads and smiled eyes half closed.

The party had gone on for hours longer, socialites getting progressively more loose limbed (and lipped) as the alcohol flowed. The two of you had stolen more quiet moments together, but never longer than a few stolen kisses. As dawn started to crest over the skyline, the last few stragglers had left for bed.

You and Jason had stumbled back down to your borrowed hotel room, tipsy enough to weave convex lines through the halls. After struggling with the room key card, you had entered the room giggling and struggling to get each other’s clothes off. Shoes, an orphaned suit jacket, ripped stockings, and your gloriously sparkly party dress heaped on the floor a trail of evidence to your attempted debauchery. By the time the two of you had landed in the king sized bed, exhaustion had caught up with both of you. Within minutes sleep had claimed you, burrowed in a feather duvet and the most comfortable mattress you’d ever slept in.

Now it’s morning, and you’re making good on all the teasing promises of the previous evening. There’s a wet spot on Jason’s boxers and you’ve got the stubborn remains of mascara smeared around your eyes in a poor imitation of a panda. You’ll have to get up soon to deal with the clothes strewn all over your suite, start trying to see if anything can be salvaged for the short trip back home. But for now, there’s nowhere you’d rather be than right here. Starting off a new year in the arms of the man you love, with the promise of more pleasure just on the horizon

#jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd smut #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fic #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd #sunnie writes 🌻#mdni #smut fic

459 notes · View notes

xveenusx · 1 year

Text

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

2K notes · View notes

kikiyoomis · 7 months

Text

"what do even you like about me?"

sakusa is taken aback from your sudden question. the two of you were laying on bed, individually scrolling through your respective phones just before bed. there was nothing during the day that would've suggested your change in mood.

sakusa shuts his phone off and places it on the nightstand beside him before pulling you into his embrace.

"like? baby i'm so in love with you that there's nothing that i only 'like' about you," sakusa says while he buries his face into your neck.

"yea but... i'm not even that... special. i'm not super pretty or talented or smart or-" you say before the words are caught in your throat and tears starts to form.

"i feel like i just got lucky. like... why would you settle for someone like me?" you whisper.

you've had these thoughts for a while. before they only came up when you were going through a rough time with your self-confidence but recently, with sakusa's booming popularity as a highly anticipated rookie in the v league, what was left of your confidence completely shattered.

you were happy for him of course. you've been rooting for him ever since he started getting offers to play various division 1 teams. but now that your boyfriend was placed into the spotlight, you could also see all of the people who could easily take your spot as his lover. after all he had talented volleyball players, models, actors, idols and so many high status celebrities talking about him. surely he would find someone better than you who, in comparison to him, has amounted to virtually nothing.

"who said that?" sakusa asked concerned written all over his face. he sits up and pulls you into his embrace but you turn away from him.

"nobody..." you trail off, not wanting to admit that the person who put these ideas into your head was in fact yourself.

"please tell me what's going on. it can't be nobody putting those useless thoughts into your head," sakusa says soothingly as he twirls your hair around his finger gently.

"its just that... "you start but you cut yourself off. "it's nothing."

"it's not nothing. not if it has you this sad," sakusa says and you feel compelled to cry your heart out to him. to tell him about all of your worries and doubts. but what if it burdens him? he already has enough on his plate. the more you thought about it however, the less you could keep it in.

"i can't figure out why you would love someone like me. aren't i just bringing you down? sooner or later you'll find someone you love more and you won't even spare me a glance when leave. and every time i think about you leaving me i get so scared but i can't even be mad about it because if i were you i would leave me too," you finally say, tears falling down your cheeks as you finally verbalized the thoughts you held for years.

"i would never leave you. never in any lifetime of mine that i would leave you," sakusa says, trying to soothe you but your crying doesn't stop.

"i should've just stayed quiet and enjoyed my time as your s/o while it lasts. i shouldn't be this upset over the fact that you'll leave me because it's fated to happen."

sakusa pulls you into a tight embrace and as much as you want to push away, you give into his hug. he's whispering something but you can't make out what he's saying over your uneven breaths.

"y/n, i love everything about you. and i mean it. nobody, for the entirety of our relationship and before, ever came close." he brings his hands to you face and wipes your tears away with his thumb.

"but-"

"no buts."

after a few moments of silence, sakusa speaks up again.

"you know... the day you asked me out... i was going to confess to you the next day. i was so surprised, i had everything prepared and you come out of nowhere telling me that you liked me," sakusa says.

"but i was so happy you know? happier than winning the collegiate mvp. i mean for years i just had to silently deal with my feelings and who would've known that the person of my dreams is here in my arms. god, i don't even know where to start. i just... my feelings for you goes beyond love. i can't even form into words how hard my heart beats for you."

sakusa always had a way with words whenever the subject came to you. which is why you could never beat him in an argument no matter how ridiculous.

he leans in to you and places a soft kiss on your tear stained cheek. then he places another, following the trail before reaching your lips. he presses the kiss there a little longer than the gentle pecks he left on your cheeks.

you tilt your head slightly, letting your lips lock with his. you stay like that until one of you broke for air. you're greeted with sakusa's smiling face. a smile where it reaches his eyes and he's looking at you with such fondness you felt your heart skip a beat like it was the first time you had laid eyes on him.

"don't worry, i'll love you enough for the both of us. nobody will come between us, not even the stupid voices in your head." and just give me a couple weeks my love. a couple more weeks i'll prove to you how i love you by putting a ring on your finger.

#haikyu #haikyuu #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa #sakusa fluff #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #haikyuu sakusa #haikyuu sakusa kiyoomi #msby sakusa #sakusa hurt/comfort

701 notes · View notes

ma1dita · 8 months

Text

to chase the sun

words: little over 1k

summary: grumpy!remus hates the rain but loves his sunshine!reader

warnings: none! gender neutral reader but a quick fem mention in the poem at the end, allusions to lycanthropy causing chronic pain, soft!comfy remus

a/n: when will it be my turn. side note, first fic out in YEARS lmfao please feel free to interact and comment! hope yall enjoy xx

(edited/reposted on 9/7/23)

—

Remus Lupin hated the rain. People in the streets rush to get away from it, always wanting to run from the cold. It’s lonely, running is. And that is a feeling he is all too familiar with. Loneliness is a friend of his, and it sits with him often when the sky is dark and bleak, nothing unlike how he feels around the time of the full moon. He’s sat at the window of the Gryffindor common room, gazing outside instead of finishing his Herbology homework. It was raining, the kind where big fat drops are hitting the window and dragging their way down the glass. A fire crackled in the corner of the room, the warmth spreading across his scarred skin.

Analyze the benefits and disadvantages of using Muggle practices and methods in herbology, and discuss whether the magical world should adopt more of these innovations.

Remus rubs his forehead and looks out into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest, tired eyes seeing the world as so cold and gray in contrast to the comforting heat in the dim light. Warmth. A feeling he’s been chasing for as long as he’s known. Remus is someone who sits in the sunlight to feel it through his bones. He always has a bite of chocolate ready in hopes of taking some of the cold away. The sweaters that drape over his broad shoulders are a constant reminder of an embrace and what it feels like to be held. And well, there’s you.

You. A direct contradiction to every vow of self-deprecation and isolation he’s made to himself since he was bitten, quickly forgotten with every earth-shattering smile you point in his direction. You, his darling angel who’s laughter sounds like orchestral music, the perfect quell to the silence in his head. He wonders what Icarus must have felt like, flying too close to the sun. But as you walk down the dormitory steps with rosy cheeks and an umbrella big enough for two, he understands what it means to take that risk. It was easy to fall. Sunlight is hard to catch, after all.

“Rem? You wanna go for a walk outside? You need a break baby.” You’re smiling at him, rain boots squeaking against the tile in anticipation of his next move.

“It’s raining pretty hard. You really want to go out in the downpour, my sweet?” His brow furrowed as he thought of the rain falling on the streets, and wished he could take it all away. His lover is made of sunshine, and he’d fistfight the sky if it meant he could keep you shining.

“We could dance in the rain like in those muggle movies your mom likes to watch!”

You’re grinning mischievously, looking like getting swept by the wind and rain is the ultimate dream, stumbling over to perch on his lap. His arm wraps around your waist, tickling your stomach as you lay your head on his shoulder.

“Just wanna spend time with you, Rem.” Your smile is imprinted on his jaw, and he’s convinced that if someone opened him up to take a peek inside they’d see your kisses gently marked along his heart.

He sighs softly, stroking your back as he bounces his leg lightly. Who wants to sit here and mope writing about plants anyway if you’re sitting there so pretty and beaming at him.

“Only for you.” he gruffs, as you let out a squeal. He never used to give in so easily before, but with you indulgence feels like an unconscious reprieve rather than an intentional choice he might later regret.

“ —But, I’ll just hold the umbrella so you won’t get wet.” Remus interjects, tracing his name into your thigh. You make a noise that resembles a laugh, and it makes it all the more easier to get up and put a jacket on, despite the comfort of his position in holding you pleading for him not to.

—

Your hands are intertwined as you both briskly walk down the cobblestone path. Remus, taking slower, larger steps and you, hopping into every small puddle that presents as an obstacle to your grand destination of nowhere, just to pass the time.

Remus stays quiet, one hand firmly on the umbrella and the other in yours. His entire being aches in the cold like this, another consequence of his unwanted ailment, but he grazes his thumb against your hand like someone rubbing themself warm in the presence of fire. You’re both standing in the field now and the way you gaze at him makes it feel like he could stay here forever if you asked him to.

The look in your eyes confirms that you’re itching to rush out from under the umbrella, to feel the wetness pelt against your skin. Instead, you lean against his chest, tapping your fingers along his spine as you both listen to the pitter patter of the rain. As you hum a love song you heard on the radio, he notices you close your eyes, safe in his arms and under the protection of shade. Peace is a feeling hard to find at the age of 17, but in the solace of your company, it makes one wonder what else could be defined as this.

He drops the umbrella.

“Baby! The rain…” you shriek, moving impossibly closer to him. He’d let you crawl into his skin if you could ever want to.

A laugh bubbles to the surface as he looks at you, hanging off of him.

“Wanna dance?”

Remus hopes you don’t mind the red in his cheeks as he holds his hand out. The rain washes away any doubt he had about loving you.

“But you’re getting all wet. You don’t like the rain.”

Raindrops are glistening as they fall off your eyelashes, dripping down your cheeks. Your hair is drenched now, and Remus can’t help but smile at you, shaking his head into your face like a wet dog.

“I don’t mind it. I love you.”

He continues to hum where you left off, spinning and dipping you before pulling you back into his chest as you giggle. He looks up at the sky, then looks at you. You’re still so warm, and he then realizes he has sunlight in his grasp.

“I could stay here all night!” You yell with glee, skipping circles around him, arms stretched towards the heavens.

“Dunno about that, baby, but we can try.”

Remus contemplates it, noticing a chill in the air as he crosses his arms, watching you dance with the raindrops. He accidentally steps into a puddle as he shifts his foot.

Yup. Remus Lupin still dislikes the rain. His sock is wet and the feeling seeps through him slowly, as you splash him. Warmth.

—

Remus Lupin never thought recovering from a full moon could feel worse, until of course it did.

“100.4! Sheesh, Moony you really did a number on yourself frolicking in the rain before your time of the month, huh?” Sirius says, tossing the thermometer to the bedside drawer. He’s tucked into his bed sniffing loudly as he burrows his head deeper into the pillow.

“Beat you. I got 100.6.” A head pops out from under the covers wrapping arms around him, giggling and then sneezing. Daylight is spilling across his sheets. Warmth.

“Was worth it.” he mumbles, snuggling closer in his twin bed.

—

“I love her as she is,

doing her thing,

I would never want

to control her fire;

All I need is

to be near it.”

Marc Anthony

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x reader fluff #marauders era #marauders x reader #remus lupin x gn!reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #grumpy x sunshine #remus lupin #made by ma1dita ♥︎#for my gn babies (づ ◕‿◕ )づ

655 notes · View notes

the-music-maniac · 2 months

Text

I think what drives me a little crazy (in a good way) about zosan as a ship is - ironically - that they're willing to do the worst possible thing, to sacrifice, for a necessary goal unrelated to their relationship. By that I mean that a common romance trope is an individual being willing to sacrifice the world, anything and anyone else, for their lover, and zosan is...not that. And for some reason that drives me more feral than that other romance trope ever possibly could. I find that more romantic than "I would burn the world for you" and I'll explain why.

The root of their specific willingness to sacrifice isn't a shortage of love or care by any means, but a complete trust and understanding of each other. To the absolute core of who they are. I'm going to refer specifically to that agreement between zosan (that I got spoiled on, so apologies if I get details wrong, I haven't gotten there in the story yet - ALSO spoiler warning if you haven't gotten to around Wano, so click away).

I'm referring to Sanji telling Zoro to kill him if he changes after his stint in Germa, and Zoro agreeing without need for an explanation, telling Sanji to survive until then - that is so fucking romantic to me, and people hold it up as proof that they don't care about each other but to me, it's anything but.

There is a burden of duty to being the wings of the pirate king, and they both take that responsibility seriously. They're both devoted to their captain and to their crew, and to the dreams of their crew. Zoro perhaps more outwardly unwaveringly so, but Sanji is devoted too, different from Zoro but equal in intensity. There are moments when you can TELL they're on the same wavelength, moments where Zoro gives a rare speech on the dynamics of their crew and Sanji is silent because he agrees. Sanji is terrified of hurting his found family, and he's terrified of becoming like his brothers and father. He loves his nakama and so he's willing to sacrifice his own life to prevent from turning into that type of monster.

Zoro is similar. He is willing to die for his nakama, and their dreams. They are in complete understanding of that point. Death itself is not something that scares either of them, there are some things that are worth the price. Potentially for different reasons ahem self worth issues ahem Sanji ahem but that's still something they both understand. Zoro would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat to save Sanji (he already has at Thriller bark), Sanji would do the same (again. Thriller bark), so it's not remotely because they don't care or love each other. They are absolutely willing to give all they are to keep each other from outside harm.

But what happens if the threat to the crew is Sanji himself?

Sanji asks Zoro to be the one to kill him, because Zoro is the only one on the crew who he trusts 100% to do so, to fulfill the promise, who understands. I personally think Luffy would try to save his nakama, even beyond what is possible, at his own detriment. The other crew members would probably do the same (then again I'm still not through the show so feel free to disagree with my interpretation).

But Zoro could do it if it came to that. It would be awful, and it would shatter and change him, irreversibly, heartbreakingly so - I don't agree with people who say Zoro would kill his nakama without hesitation and be fine with it out of loyalty to his captain, Zoro has a heart y'all and he loves his crew - but he could grit his teeth and do it if he realizes it is necessary, that there is no other option. Sanji trusts him to keep his word, to protect the rest of their family. Do you know how telling it is about the level of regard you have for your partner, to trust them to the point where you can easily place the well being of almost all you both treasure into their hands, once you realize you can't be the one to protect it anymore, and know without a shadow of a doubt that it'll be safe as long as it's with them? With knowing they're strong enough to accept the heavy burden of having your blood stain their hands for the rest of their life, the blame for your death on their shoulders, the shadow of you in every single thing they do, inescapable and marking every facet of their life forever? And to trust that they'll not only accept those consequences without hesitation because it's what you asked of them, but will also protect what you both treasure until their last breath, without you even needing to EXPLAIN that that's what you're asking to them to do, because it's the obvious, it's what you've both been doing all this time, it's something you both know so well that no words need to be exchanged, no reassurances need to be given.

And the implication of Sanji wanting Zoro to do this task too, of being okay dying by Zoro's hands because they're equals in every way. Especially since their fighting dynamic is mostly a competitive, I'm stronger than you, I'll never lose to someone as weak as you, blah blah. This is proof that that's not what Sanji and Zoro actually think of each other. Sanji knows that they could kill each other if either of them truly tried for one - wouldn't have asked Zoro to kill him otherwise. Sanji is also fine with Zoro being the one to defeat him. There is an inherent (kinda fucked up) romance to that notion. 'If I have to die, let it be by your hands.'

And on Zoro's part, there's an inherent fucked up romance to keeping your lover close forever because your fingers are stained with the necessity of their blood.

fUCK.

(here is a caveat that I'm viewing this in a scenario where Sanji and Zoro have established that they love each other and are potentially in a relationship. If it's before that you could also flavour it with Sanji's "I love him but I think it's unrequited, actually I think he may hate me, so it would hurt him the least to be the one to kill me" which is JUICY, but just for this post I'm viewing it where they've already established that they're valuable to each other, that they care)

How am I supposed to look at that and not fucking die. It's so much more nuanced and romantic to me personally than "I would burn the world for you" because that trope at its core is a selfish sort of protection. I can 100% see how people find it romantic, don't get me wrong, I'm not judging you if you like that trope, that's so valid. It's "I can't live without you" and "I would choose you above all others" which is romantic, but it's romantic in a different way. Depending on the characters, it's also, I would go to extremes to make sure you're alive, even if there's nothing else left after the carnage except for each other, even if everything else that makes life worth living has been destroyed for survival, and we can only ever rely on each other for the rest of time. I only care about you but not anything else you care about. I won't try to save it, even if you tell me to, even if you want me to, and won't forgive me for all I've done because I can't bear the burden of you not being alive and around anymore.

I get why it's compelling, but that trope could ignore (depending on how it's written) everything else that person could hold dear. Ignores potentially, the agency of the person being protected, a character who could have accepted the consequences and have not wanted the world to burn for their sake, who is strong enough for that burden. And true, maybe the character isn't like that, maybe they just want simply to live a life (valid of them, people are allowed to want happy endings for themselves), but my point is, it's a different archetype of romance for a different archetype of character, but it seems to be more accepted as a romantic trope then zosan's dynamic and I think it shouldn't be that way.

Zosan is the opposite. It suits their character type perfectly. For them, it's "there are things that are worth more than even you and me. I love you, knowing who you are and how you view the world and what other things you value. I love you everyday on purpose, not hopelessly or illogically or blindly, even knowing you may not always choose me. I'm willing to accept the pain of that, just to be next to you. The time we share isn't any less valuable for being fleeting and impermanent. I care about the things you care about and our lives are also worth living because of those things. It would tear me apart irreversibly to hurt you, but I would do it if you asked it of me, I would do it if that's what this life demands of us. I know you can protect what we both love, even if I'm not beside you. I respect your choices. In this, we understand each other perfectly."

THAT is my shit. That's the fucking deranged ass bs that has me staring at my ceiling at 3 am, pacing the floors at 6 in the morning, gnawing on conkcrete like a rabid dog. Brain rot brain rot brain rot.

#EQUAL PARTNERS IN LITERALLY EVERY WAY I CANNOT WITH THESE TWO #one piece #zosan #sanzo #zoro x sanji #sanji x zoro #THEM #romance tropes #analysis #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #monkey d luffy #the strawhats

224 notes · View notes

daisynik7 · 10 months

Text

Give You Blue

Chapter 5: Dreams

Pairing: Eren x f!reader, Reiner x f!reader (past relationship)

Rating: Explicit (for mature content)

cw: switching POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Eren is in 3rd), implications of a panic attack and anxiety, language, angst, mature content, sexually explicit content

Word Count: ~3.9k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Give You Blue Masterlist | ao3 | Give You Blue Taglist

Summary: Your friendship with Eren is taken to the next level. You have a sweet dream that turns into a nightmare. Eren tells his parents that he is considering changing his major. Author’s Note: What do we think of this chapter? I know it’s a bit of a slow burn, so I appreciate you sticking with this! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated. If you want to be tagged in the next chapter(s), please let me know! Divider created by @/mikeykuns.

You press firmly on the strings of the guitar, stretching your pinky as far as you can to reach whatever note Eren instructed you to. With a gentle strum, you play the chord. Well, sort of. It definitely doesn’t sound the way it did when he showed you. You drop your head, sighing. “Okay, it’s official. I suck at guitar.”

Eren sits crossed legged in front of you. “You don’t. Try again,” he encourages, a small smile on his face.

“I can’t get my hands to bend the right way!” You hold your palm out in front of him, twisting your fingers in all types of misshapen claw formations. “Admit it. I suck.”

“You don’t suck.”

“It’s okay, I’ve accepted it! And as my mentor, you should too. Say it.”

“I will not,” he refuses, folding his arms over his chest, smirking.

“C’mon, Eren! Look,” You play the broken chord again, louder this time, trying to prove a point. “See?! Say it!”

He chuckles, responding quietly, “Okay, maybe you do suck at this. Just a little bit,” pinching a small space of air between his thumb and index finger.

You set the guitar back on its stand, laughing. “Ha! I knew it. This tells me that I should leave this to the professionals.” You grin at him, hugging your knees to your chest as you sit across from him on the carpeted floor.

Ever since the game-night Eren hosted a few weeks ago, the two of you have grown closer. More often now, you find yourself in his room, chatting about life, listening to each other vent, watching a movie, or indulging in his wonderful guitar skills. He even attempted to teach you the stringed instrument; the key word being attempted. Being with him makes you almost forget the misery that you suffered at the beginning of this semester. Almost.

Reiner remains relentless in his efforts to contact you. While you’ve managed to avoid any personal confrontations ever since the last one outside your dorm, he hasn’t stopped reaching out through text. A few times throughout the week, he’ll call you, leaving a short message that’s along the lines of, “Hey, it’s me again. Call me when you’re ready to talk.” You never pick up, nor respond, and still, he tries.

You wish you were unfazed by it, but parts of you cling to the past. Deep down, it pains you to ignore him. Sometimes, you see him as Reiner, your best friend, the kid you grew up with. Protecting you on the playground, confiding in you during his lowest moments, picking you up during yours. And as much as you want to preserve those memories of him like a delicate treasure, one bad breakup is enough to shatter it. To make you realize that maybe the two of you should have stayed friends all along, and nothing more.

Surprisingly, you’ve been able to talk about this easily with Eren. Annie has always been your main confidant throughout, but her less than gentle approach sometimes leaves you defeated, as if you’re wrong for having these conflicted feelings for your ex. As much as you’d like to be completely, one hundred percent over him, it isn’t that simple. And with Eren, he understands that. Having no stakes in it, or knowing who Reiner is, he listens to your inner turmoil without judgment. He makes you feel normal.

He's been opening up to you, too, sharing his on-going struggles with his pre-med major and the impossible expectations of his father. He maintains that pleasant smile on his face, despite being crushed by whatever weight that’s been forced on him from an early age. A victim of suffering he’s been subjected to inherit, without any say. It’s his father’s burden that was passed on to him, to continue whatever legacy he thinks will help the world. Dr. Jaeger is always looking out for the greater good of society, never about his own family.

It’s been nice confiding in each other, not having to hold back for the sake of each other’s feelings. When you were with Reiner, you always had to be extra cautious around him, wanting to avoid saying anything that might hurt him. In Eren’s case, he’s never been able to be honest with his father. While he has his mother, he can’t always be completely honest with her, not wanting to cause any rift amongst his parents.

Eren is actually considering changing his major. He’s been in contact with Erwin Smith, getting an idea of what the process would look like. The senior has been more than helpful, alleviating any concerns he might have about the transition, even setting up a time to meet with his father, who works as a teacher at a nearby elementary school. Still, he’s apprehensive to make the final step, as expected. It’s a big decision, one that changes the course of his future. It might cause drama between him and his family. No matter what he ends up deciding, you’ve made it clear that you’ll support him through and through.

You check your phone for the time. “It’s getting late. I should probably head back to my room now before Annie gets worried.”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, wouldn’t want her getting an ideas about us.”

“Oh, believe me, she already has. She’s convinced we’re dating,” you say, standing up.

He follows, stepping towards the door, fingers at the handle. “How scandalous! I can picture the headlines now: Anxiety-ridden RA whisks beautiful resident off her feet to run away into the sunset together.”

You beam at him. “Now that’s a story I’d love to read.”

He smiles back. “Me too.”

Recently, there’s been a shift in energy between you two. There’s no denying it: you are attracted to him, both to his magnetic personality and his charming looks. But there’s this everlasting guilt in the pit of your stomach, preventing you from pursuing anything romantic with him. Simply imagining it brings you shame, like it’s inappropriate to think about. Obviously, you and Reiner are over, maybe for good. And you’re almost certain he’s been with other women since, at least, that’s what your self-conscious mind theorizes. So what’s stopping you? Is it fear? Fear of working hard at another relationship, only for it to crumble before your feet, like it did with your ex? You can’t take any more heartache. It’s easier to avoid it all together.

As you’ve said before, the easier road isn’t always better. And the optimistic, love-sick fool in you believes there’s a chance at a happy ending, this time with Eren instead of Reiner. It’s new, foreign territory, a journey filled with the unknown. Is it worth the risk?

For now, you keep these thoughts buried in the back of your mind. You value your friendship with Eren, enough to not ruin it. Besides, you’re unsure how he feels about you. Maybe you’re better off as friends and nothing more, just as it should have been with Reiner. And while this hurts to realize, it’s better for everyone in the long run. There’s no room for heartbreak if you don’t give your heart to anyone. It’s that simple, right?

He holds open the door for you, leaning against the frame. “Sweet dreams.”

“You always say that,” you giggle.

“Well, that’s because I mean it. I really hope you have some seriously sweet dreams tonight.”

You step out into the hall slowly. “Thanks, Mr. RA. I wish the same for you, too. Goodnight.” With a final wave, you head into your room, cheeks pleasantly warm with a bright smile on your face.

~~~

“You’re beautiful.”

Eren lays beside you in bed, cupping your face in his hand, thumb brushing delicately along your cheekbone. He leans closer, lips brushing yours into a gentle kiss. A rush of heat radiates to every inch of your skin, electricity buzzing through your veins. “I want you to feel good,” he whispers, mouth grazing your ear, fingers sliding down your throat and to your chest, resting his palm over your heart. You hold your breath as he touches you, nervous to be vulnerable with him.

Sensing this trepidation, he pulls away to look at you, tipping your chin towards him to meet his gaze. With a comforting smile, he says, “It’s okay. You’re safe with me.”

And you believe him. At his words, you’re at ease, letting his hands caress your body, stripping you naked. He scatters kisses on your neck, trailing down your stomach, slowly making his way between your thighs. Peering up at you, he asks, “Can I taste you?”

You nod, eager to feel his tongue on you.

He latches his lip on your arousal, licking and slurping at your clit. Your fingers are bunched in his hair, feeling his head thrash side-to-side against your pussy.

“Fuck, Eren. Feels so good,” you moan, indulging in the pleasure.

At the mention of his name, he suddenly stops. When he raises his head to look at you, it’s Reiner. He crawls up to face you, nose-to-nose, sneering. “How could you do this to me, Coco? Cheating on me with your fucking RA? You fucking bitch.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed and in shock, limbs rigid at your sides, unable to move. You’re trapped beneath him, the air growing thin, making it difficult to breath. As you suffocate, he grabs your face in a rough grasp, seething the words, “Cheater, cheater, cheater” over and over again…

You wake up with sweat beading on your forehead, blanket twisted around your limbs. Guilt weighs heavily on your chest as you take deep breaths to calm down. It was a dream, thankfully. Reiner’s never called you a bitch before. It was the worst version of him your mind could think of in the form of a nightmare.

Sitting up in bed, wiping the perspiration from your face, you recall Eren’s uncanny farewell to you hours earlier. It definitely started as a sweet dream; the idea of you and Eren being intimate with each other has you flustered. All the times you’ve been alone with him in his room, elbows grazing, hands brushing, the shared looks that last seconds longer than they need to. It’s a leap of faith, to cross that line. And fear is what holds you back. Fear of failure, of falling in love to only stumble out of it again. Fear and guilt. It’s silly to feel guilty about it, especially since you’re the one who got your heart broken. But nightmare Reiner calling you a bitch and a cheater haunts you.

You lay back down in bed, fitting your head comfortably in your pillow. It takes a while longer for you to fall asleep; eventually, you do. And deep down, you’re disappointed when you don’t have another dream about Eren.

~~~

Eren sits in an alcove on his favorite beach, watching the sunset on the horizon. He managed to catch this beautiful sight before he has to meet his parents for dinner. It’s their semi-annual visit; his father managed to squeeze him in on his very busy schedule. Lucky him.

He takes this time to lose himself, pretend that it’s just him and the sea, basking in the day’s last moments of sunshine. It’s too pretty to indulge in all alone. Suddenly, he has the urge to share this with someone else. Without thinking, he scrolls through his contacts, finding the one person he wants to talk to. The resident from Room 104. His friend.

It takes two rings until she answers. “Hey, are you okay?”

He smiles to himself, amused at her immediate concern. He realizes now that he’s never actually called her before. They’ve texted plenty, exchanged funny tweets, greeted each other good mornings and goodnights. But to hear her in his ear, as if she’s sitting beside him, feels right. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just called to say hi.”

There’s a beat before she responds with a simple, “Hi.” He can practically hear the rounded cheeks on her face. His chest swells, happy he decided to dial her number. “Where are you right now?” she asks.

“I’m watching the sunset on the beach,” he replies, wiggling his toes into the sand.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s beautiful here. It puts my mind at ease.” He wants to add that her soothing voice has the same effect; he decides to keep that to himself.

She hums. “Sounds like paradise. Where is this, exactly?”

“It’s my super-secret spot. No one knows about it, not even Armin or Mikasa. You have to be really special to know about it.”

She laughs. “I guess I’ll have to charm it out of you, then.”

Too late. He unsure exactly when it started, but lately, Eren has been seeing her in a different light. From the first time they met, even though snot and tears as she cried over her ex because of a cupcake, he was drawn to her. In a weird way, he felt a connection; she’s going through her own struggles like he is. Everyone around him is having a fabulous time, nailing their classes, partying like there’s no tomorrow. And he never resented his friends for enjoying their college experience. He felt left out. Different.

And maybe it’s true: misery really does love company. However, being with her is far from miserable. Although they confess to one another their strife in life, it’s cathartic, like a cumbersome burden gradually easing away. When they’re not complaining about annoying exes or overbearing parents, they’re sharing new memories together, learning more about each other, solidifying that bond. That connection.

He likes her, enjoys being around her. Sacrifices precious study time to teach her guitar, though she really does suck at it. He forgets about the unending quizzes and tests he has to constantly prepare for because he’d rather sit on his carpeted floor, snacking on Pocky Sticks or eating Chinese takeout with a movie playing on his laptop. He’d choose her over textbooks any day because being with her is like an escape. A breath of fresh air when he’s otherwise suffocating from the pressure.

Before he realizes, he’s saying, “I’ll show you this one day. You’ll love it.”

“Does that mean I’m special?” she teases. He pictures her on the other line, smiling with the phone pressed to her ear, lying in bed. All cozy in the sheets, probably in some dainty pajamas. The hem of her shirt riding up, exposing that cute belly. Maybe she isn’t wearing a bra, nipples peaked through the fabric…

He’s officially lost it. Face hot with shame, he rattles his head, as if doing so will eliminate the naughty thoughts occupying his mind. Swallowing hard, he answers, “You are special. Very, very special…” It comes out awkwardly. His cheeks are sweltering with both guilt and embarrassment now. What’s going on with him?

Luckily, she seems to think he’s still normal, replying, “You’re special too, Mr. RA. Thank you for being such a good friend to me.”

Friend. He has to remind himself that they’re just that, and nothing more. If only she knew the effect he has on him. Would she give him a chance?

His phone vibrates in his hand, and he knows it’s his mom texting him that they’re on the way. It’s his cue to head back into town. He reluctantly says goodbye, nothing else incriminating coming out of his mouth. With one last glance at the ocean, he turns around towards his car, dreading what’s to come.

~~~

Less than an hour later, Eren and his parents are sitting around a table at an Italian restaurant downtown. The waiter serves their drinks, iced water for Eren, two glasses of red wine for his parents. His mom is holding over most of the conversation, catching Eren up on all of the family news. He doesn’t care, but he likes listening to her talk. It’s relaxing for him, allows him to not think about anything else. That is, until his father starts speaking.

“Eren, Zeke’s been telling me you haven’t been performing well in Organic Chemistry. Is that true?”

What a fucking snitch. It doesn’t surprise him; Zeke’s always knocking Eren down a peg so he can look taller in the eyes of their father. And while he says he means well, he actually doesn’t. However, this is a good opportunity to segue into what he actually wants to discuss. “Yeah, dad. That’s true. Ochem is really kicking my ass right now.”

Dr. Jaeger takes a swig of his wine. “Do you need a tutor? I’ll give you money to hire one.”

Eren tips his water into his mouth, gulping slowly. He’s getting nervous, second guessing himself if he should really say what’s been on his mind for the past couple weeks. Before he chickens out, he decides to go for it. “Actually, I’m considering changing my major.”

The silence is loud, even with the other patrons clinking their dishes and chatting away. His mother stares at him, eyes wide and mouth parted open. His father swirls the alcohol in his hand, staring at the liquid whirling around the glass. It lasts for at least a full minute, or at least, that’s what it seems like to Eren. He’s tempted to add, “Just kidding!” to make this painfully uncomfortable quiet disappear.

Finally, his father speaks. “If this is your idea of a joke, it’s not very funny, Eren.”

“I’m not kidding.”

He leans forward, inspecting his son’s face carefully. “What would you change it to?”

Eren taps his foot nervously beneath the table, responding, “Education. I want to be a teacher.”

His father barks a cruel laugh, startling your mother and the neighboring table, who stares, intrigued. “Teacher? You want to be a teacher? Eren, this is ludicrous. I’m not going to waste my money on your tuition for you to become a teacher.”

“What’s wrong with being a teacher?!” Eren snaps.

“I’m paying for you to become a doctor. Teachers don’t make any money.”

Eren mumbles, “Not everything in life is about money.”

“That’s a very naïve mindset. How will you support a family without a decent income?”

“There are plenty of teachers who can afford to raise a family, so I don’t see how that’s relevant.” And besides, making more money doesn’t automatically mean you’re a better parent. Prime example is Dr. Jaeger himself, but Eren knows better than to throw that back to him.

His dad shakes his head, massaging his temples as if he’s got a bad headache. “You need to hire a tutor, Eren. The courses are difficult, but getting a tutor will help.”

“It’s not just that, dad. I’m not happy. I don’t want to be a doctor.”

His mom chimes in. “Honey, are you sure you’ve given this enough thought? This is a big decision.”

He nods. “I have. It’s been on my mind for a while now. And I know in my heart this is what I want.”

She gives him a small grin, glancing at her husband, who’s reeling in his seat. “Grisha, it’s going to be okay.”

“Carla, this is his future. He’s ruining his life.”

Eren scoffs. “Dad, is it really that bad?”

He glares at him. “You were supposed to take over my practice.”

“You have Zeke.”

He continues to rattle his head, freaking out. “If you change your major, I will not pay for the rest of your tuition.”

It’s a threat. Eren’s prepared for the worst. “I’ll get a job, take out loans. If you don’t want to support me, fine. But that’s not going to change my mind.”

It’s silent again for what seems like forever. Suddenly, Dr. Jaeger stands up, tossing his napkin from his lap onto the table. “I can’t listen to this anymore. Carla, we’re leaving.”

“Grisha.”

He stares at Eren dead in the eyes. “You were supposed to be special. I had very high hopes for you, Eren. Now, you’re just a disappointment.”

It’s words. That’s all it is. Eren has to remind himself that. Sticks and stones, right? But the disdain on his father’s face, the contempt dripping in his frown, all of that combined with what comes out of his mouth so easily, without a hitch in his breath. It breaks his heart. He is not prepared to hear this. While it doesn’t completely surprise him, it still hurts. He fights the tears, gulping down the sorrow building in his throat. Drinking the remaining water in his empty cup as his father storms off, his mother chasing after him, pleading with him to come back. Eren waits a couple of minutes, hoping they return, that his dad apologizes and takes back what he said. It doesn’t happen. His phone vibrates and reveals a text from his mom.

Mom: I’m sorry honey

Mom: We’re driving back home now

Mom: I will talk to your father and I will call you later

In the worst timing possible, the food they ordered minutes before disaster is served. Eren asks the waiter to package everything up, no longer hungry. After he pays the check, he drives back to campus, grip tight on the wheel, listening to whatever music is on his playlist at full volume. Trying to drown his father’s words replaying over and over in his head. You were supposed to be special. I had very high hopes for you. You’re just a disappointment.

He parks the car in his usual spot, sulking in the driver’s seat for a little while longer until he exits, carrying the heavy bag of pasta towards his room. It’s a Friday night, and of course, the dorms are empty because everyone is out partying, not being a disappointment to their parents. He approaches his door, leaning forward to press his forehead against, feeling like he’s at the bottom of the barrel, trying to claw his way out somehow. He can’t call his mom because she’s probably too busy dealing with the aftermath. So, he dials the only other person he knows will listen. The only other person he can rely on.

She picks up his call quickly, after one ring. “Eren?”

He thinks he can hear her faintly down the hall from inside her bedroom. His feet shuffle towards Room 104, dragging the to-go bag of food along with him. “Hi,” he greets, sullen.

“Are you okay? Where are you?” She sounds concerned, and in this fucked up state he’s in, it’s what he needs. Someone who cares.

“No, I’m not,” he sniffles, tears rolling down his cheeks. “It was a mistake. I should have never said anything.”

“Where are you?” she repeats, more frantic this time. From outside, he can hear her bed squeak as she hops off it. The swish of a jacket. The jingle of keys. Seconds later, she opens the door, finding him already standing there, begging for comfort.

And it’s not weird when she hugs him, wrapped around his torso, her face nestled into his chest. She fits into him like a puzzle piece, a missing one he never knew he needed. This is the closest they’ve been, probably the most they’ve ever touched. Yet something about this is familiar. Maybe it’s the warmth radiating from her affectionate embrace. Or the way he instinctually bows his head to nuzzle his nose at the top of her head. This is what he’s yearned for, dreamed of. Someone who looks at him like he’s worth something, even when other’s see a failure. Someone who holds him tightly with every fiber of her being to make sure he knows he’s loved. It’s in the way she presses her ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. How her hand massages small circles onto his back, chanting, “It’s okay, Eren. It’s going to be okay.”

And with her in his arms, he actually believes it.

Taglist:

@batafuraikisu @bloompompom @monirei @filunara @katestrophes @ichinosejager13 @hoperenae @zellskz @e-ayyy @liliorsstuff-blog @maliakealoha @holdmeclosebutdontloveme @chrollohearttags @sailorputa @squickkk @dnyllmh @hellomeow12 @s-cream-ing @potofstewie @conniesbbymama @erzascarlett28 @lem-hhn @roronoazorosbxtchh @ichigostrawberry15 @rhaelrence @lilshades @bigmoodyjoody @icansmellsouls @aangsupremacy @ashsauroras @bakuhoes-bxtch @mrs-wolfwood @si-kamo @jmtherula @imaddicted-b @monkemanjeager @neesiewrote @large-juice @chiinni @belovedackerman

587 notes · View notes

sissyisawitch · 3 months

Text

It'll Be Okay

Relationship: Sebastian Sallow x You

Summary: After the macabre events that occurred in the Feldcroft Catacomb, Sebastian is devastated. All he can think about is running away and pushing you away from him… but you don't plan to give up on him so easily.

Word Count: ~2.7k

Author's Note: This story is based on the song "It'll Be Okay" by Shawn Mendes. I hope you'll enjoy reading it!💙

Warnings: Major spoilers for the "In the Shadow of the Relic" quest + Angst

“I won’t let her suffer! Avada Kedavra!”

A flash of green light struck Solomon Sallow’s body, before it fell limp on the ground. Sebastian had done it. He had killed his uncle.

Oh, the future we dreamed of is fading to black…

He dropped his wand which clattered on the ground.

And just like that, you and Sebastian's future plans vanished, completely ruined. They used to seem so simple... you were supposed to cure Anne with the relic, make her return to Hogwarts, and then be happy all together with your little quartet of friends.

But as fate would have it, that was never going to happen.

A high-pitched, distraught voice brought you out of your thoughts, “Depulso!”

Anne had appeared in the Catacomb and apparently witnessed the whole tragic scene that had just unfolded, whereupon she herself attacked her twin brother, propelling him with all her might against one of the stone walls to stop him.

Driven by her fiery anger, she used what little strength she had left to cast a couple more spells to defeat the remaining Inferi and reduce Salazar Slytherin's Spellbook to ashes.

“NO!” Sebastian howled. He could do nothing but watch his sister destroy the book that was supposed to contain all the solutions to save her life.

“You’ve made your choice.” She said simply, before disapparating with the inert corpse of their uncle.

“Oh, Anne… What have you done?”

Oh, there's nothing more painful. Nothing more painful…

You were paralysed, unable to move even a finger after witnessing such a heartbreaking scene where a family was completely shattered, with no means or hope of ever repairing their ties. Poor Sebastian was left entirely alone, tears in his eyes, his face contorted by his crushing grief and regret. Merlin, you hated that sight with all your heart.

“I-I must get out of here.” He mumbled as he stood up and quickly looked at his surroundings, as if he were completely disorientated.

“Seb, wait!” You tried to hold him back, but Sebastian would not listen.

Instead, he fled. He ran like mad towards the exit of the Catacomb, desperate for fresh air.

“SEBASTIAN!” You shouted at the top of your lungs as you sped after him, hoping that it would be enough for him to hear you despite his head start.

It was only when you had made your way up the labyrinth of tunnels, once you were back in the Feldcroft countryside and away from the heavy atmosphere of the dusty Catacomb, that you managed to catch up with Sebastian.

Now that he was close at hand, you reached out to grab his arm, “Sebastian, stop!”

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!” He roared, sending your hand flying with more force than he would have used if he were in his normal state of mind.

You flinched out of reflex, but you were in no case scared of the boy. You never had been, and you knew you never would be. You understood that he was simply on edge and needed reassurance, so you kept your soft tone, “Seb–”

“STOP SAYING MY NAME!” He continued to shout in anger, but the way he was now gripping his hair and pulling at the roots showed that annoyance was being added to the palette of overwhelming emotions he was feeling at the moment. “For fuck’s sake I should’ve known better than to become friends with you in the first place.”

This. This last sentence. Maybe he could not scare you, but you too often forgot that he was still capable of hurting you, even if he did not mean any of it and it was his amalgam of panic and agitation that got the better of his words.

You tried your best to remain unfazed, “So what? You'd rather our paths had never crossed?”

“Yes!” He exclaimed without thinking twice.

I start to imagine a world where we don't collide…

For a moment, you lost yourself in your own thoughts. You imagined a parallel universe where you had never defeated Sebastian in Defence Against the Dark Arts, where he had never accompanied you to Hogsmeade on your first day at Hogwarts, and therefore a universe where you two had never become friends or exchanged a single word.

It also meant a world where you never fought trolls, goblins, and poachers together, where you never spent long nights in the Undercroft doing nothing but talking, where he never held you in his arms and comforted you whenever you were not at your best, resulting in your feelings for Sebastian blossoming into something much stronger and more genuine than friendship.

“Well, I don’t.” You finally answer.

“Well, you should.” He imitated your intonation with irritating impertinence.

You paid no attention to it, knowing better than to take any of his irrational actions into account, “Why?”

“BECAUSE I FUCKING RUINED YOUR LIFE!”

The screaming was back. Taking you by surprise once again. However this time, you were unable to react. The rawness and vulnerability of his words had hit you right in the heart, knocking the wind out of you.

“I have to go.” He muttered after your lack of reaction. He turned his back on you before setting off again, this time clearly determined to leave.

This was the moment that snapped you out of your stunned confusion, “Oh no, don’t you dare run away from me, Sallow!”

Your feet reacted even faster than your brain. You rushed towards him, but knew you would not have enough strength to hold him back, so you did the only best thing you could think of... You lunged at him and tackled him to the ground. Your body crashed into his with full force, causing his back to slam against the hard, cold, snow-covered ground.

“LET ME GO!” He fought back, kicking in all directions to try and push you off him.

“NEVER!” You pinned him down with all your strength. You were pressed on top of him while holding his hands on either side of his head, and keeping his thighs flat with your own legs. “Because you didn’t ruin my life, Sebastian.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now? I spent months teaching you dark magic. I just killed my uncle in front of you. You're a witness to a murder because of me! You could be sent to Azkaban BECAUSE OF ME! What more do you need to hate me? Tell me, because I'll do it right away if it means you'll stay away from me and be out of danger!”

And it's making me sick, but we'll heal and the sun will rise…

Sebastian's words made your blood run cold. Not because they made you reflect on everything he had put you through, but rather because you wondered how you were going to make him understand that you were not blaming him for anything, that the idea had never even crossed your mind.

“We can get past this. We can make things better together.” You said softly, unable to muster a better response.

He only scoffed bitterly.

“Sebastian, I don’t want to hate you, I want to be here for you!”

Judging that he seemed slightly calmer, you allowed yourself to release one of his hands to cup his cheek instead. With your thumb, you caressed his tanned skin, tracing the freckles splattered across his cheekbones. You did your best to convey your honesty and all your love for him through your delicate touch.

“No.” He replied firmly, leaving no room for negotiation, and then took advantage of your lowered guard to push you away again, this time with his hand which was now free. “Now leave me alone!”

If you tell me you're leaving, I'll make it easy…

You gave up being gentle and tackled him firmly to the floor again. You just needed him to listen to you for a few more minutes, “Okay. I won’t force you to stay if you don’t want to… But you need someone, Sebastian. Please, let me help you.”

“I don’t want your help!” He spat with a fury that was rarely seen in him. You had only seen it once... when he called you ignorant.

“Maybe you don’t want it, but you need it.” Now that everything had been said, you got out of his way to let him go if he so wished.

It'll be okay…

Sebastian sat up again, but stayed there, against all your expectations. You knew that all he needed was one last little push before he surrendered, so you insisted, “Don’t shut me out. Let me be here for you.”

“I–” His voice broke, giving way before he could even begin his sentence. His bottom lip quivered. “I didn’t mean to kill him. He attacked us… attacked you. I had to use the Killing Curse. You know I did!”

“I know. You did your best to protect me.” You reassured him by taking his hands in yours and giving them a little squeeze.

“I never meant for all of this to happen. I just wanted to help Anne.” It was not long before tears started to stream down his cheeks. “I want this hell to be over. Please make it stop.”

“I wish I could… but–” Now it was your voice's turn to fail you.

“I just want my little sister back.”

“I know you do… I know.” You swallowed hard to fight the tears that started to blur your vision. You could not allow yourself to cry. You had to stay strong for him. You had to be the pillar on which he could rest, because right now, he needed your help. If he saw you crying, it would only make things worse. This was not about you.

So you cuddled him against your chest, firstly to comfort him, and secondly so that he would not see the look of total dismay on your face.

“Ominis hates me too, and I can’t even blame him, because I hate myself too.” He was now full on breaking down, his head buried against your chest, and his tears streaming down your uniform jumper.

“I’ll love you enough for the two of us, then… until you learn to love yourself again, and even after.”

“I want the pain to stop. It’s been there for too long. I can’t stand it anymore.” The more time passed, the more erratic his breathing became.

“I know, baby. You’ve been so strong.” You kept spouting all the soothing words you could think of, in the hope that they would work on him.

“Please, make it stop. Please.”

“I’d take it all for you if I could. But I can’t, and I’m so sorry. I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel better.” You slowly ran your fingers through his silky brown locks, over and over again. Then you felt yourself losing your grip on your emotions, and soon your tears were flowing alongside Sebastian's.

Sebastian Sallow – the boy who was never afraid of anything and always had a trick up his sleeve – was on his knees in front of you, crying his eyes out, rendering him nothing more than the very image of misery and helplessness.

It was agonising to see the boy you loved in such a state, and not be able to do anything to make him feel better. How were you supposed to remain impassive in the face of that?

“Please fix everything. Fix me.”

“I can’t…”

And if we can't stop the bleeding… We don't have to fix it, we don't have to stay…

Sebastian's sobs continued unabated, “I’m scared to stay with you. I know I’ll end up doing something stupid and lose you too. Because that’s what I do… I do everything in my power to make the people I care about leave.”

This time, it was all too much. You could not let him belittle himself so cruelly. You grabbed his face between your hands and forced him to look straight into your eyes, not caring if they were red and swollen from all the crying, “Don’t say that. I know you made mistakes, but you’re one of the most brilliant wizards before anything else. You’re the only one who was great enough to steal my heart.”

“You’re everything I have left… I can’t lose you. Not you.” He clutched your shirt in his fists, as if he was afraid you would suddenly vanish before his eyes.

“Baby–”

Everything you were going to say died on the tip of your tongue... because Sebastian smashed his lips against yours.

You did not know exactly how it happened. You did not realise it right away because it occurred in less than a split second. And yet it was well and truly real.

There was nothing tender or romantic about that kiss. No, it was just rough, brutal and messy, reflecting all the despair they contained deep inside. It was a kiss full of passion, but not the kind that made you feel light and gave you butterflies in your stomach. Not at all, it was a toxic passion that burnt the wings off these butterflies and everything around them.

Sebastian was clutching you by the shoulders as if you were his lifeline, the only thing keeping him from tipping completely over into the darkness. And you, you kissed him back fervently, fighting the little voice in your head that was whispering to you that what you were doing was wrong, that you never should have discovered how salty his tears tasted as you kissed him for the first time.

You had to call a spade a spade, you should not be taking advantage of his vulnerability to get what you had always dreamt of... but you could not help yourself. Sebastian was hypnotic, and you could not bring yourself to pull away from him.

It was he who retreated first, and you instantly hated how his big chocolate eyes were filled with nothing but sheer panic, “I feel like I’m going to die without you… What if I die without you?”

Your heart pounded so hard to the point where it felt like you had a lump in your throat. You let out an overwhelmed and broken sob, “You’ll never find out because I’ll never leave you. You hear me? Never. I’m here for better or for worse.”

I will love you either way…

Sebastian let himself fall against your chest, and you welcomed him into your arms without the slightest hint of reluctance. You let him rest there, let him cry, tremble against you, while you caressed his untameable hair and whispered sweet nothings in his ear, doing your best to stop your own tears from flowing. You had no idea how long you stayed like that, but it felt like an eternity. You were probably freezing and soaking wet from sitting in the snow for so long, but thankfully you were unable to feel it thanks to the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Shh… It'll be okay…”

It might be so sweet… It might be so bitter…

In the months you had known Sebastian, you had imagined an infinity of different scenarios of the two of you kissing for the first time. None of those fit with the reality of Sebastian breaking down in your arms after committing murder. The situation had nothing in common with what you had wished for the two of you. You had finally got what you wanted, but you hated it. You just wanted to scream. Fate was even more cruel than you believed.

"Make the pain go away, please." Sebastian begged desperately, echoing your own inner thoughts.

"I'll do everything I can. I’ll do everything to give you the future you wanted." You cried uncontrollably.

Oh, if the future we've dreamed of is fading to black…

Minutes, hours passed, and your tears eventually dried. You spoke again, very quietly, as if afraid to frighten the peace that was slowly beginning to return, “We’ll get through this together, alright?”

“…I’m a monster.” He declared with resignation. He too had run out of tears to cry.

“You’re not.” You replied with just as much conviction.

“What if I get even worse? What if I end up hurting you?” He asked quietly.

“I will love you either way.”

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow angst #hogwarts legacy fanfic #fanfic

263 notes · View notes

babsisbakery · 3 months

Text

A Lions fight part 2

Leah williamson x reader

The last group games were today. All or nothing. Qualification or “failure”. The ones who made it would celebrate, while other players' dreams would be crushed leaving them frustrated with their own performance, not happy of themself. But sometimes that's football. A big part of the game is to learn how to pick up the shattered hopes to build them back up. To not give up easily. Staying strong when tough times arise and having your teams back no matter what.

Currently, you and your girlfriend are in the stands. England vs Scotland while the Netherlands played Belgium. Of course you’d watch the Lionesses game live, your girlfriend is their captain after all. That didn’t prevent you from checking your phone every few minutes to check the score of the other match. Honestly you’d be content with either team qualifying, you had people on both teams to cheer on. Sadly they cannot both qualify.

For the sake of your sanity your vote was slightly leaning towards England. Otherwise Leah could get insufferable with all her moaning and groaning, not the pleasant one which you induced. At the beginning she looks absolutely adorable, all huffing, puffing and pouting but when her never ending complaints start it can get irritating. The simplest way to upper her mood would be a nice bath. Wine in hand and her back pressed to your front. Praises softly whispered into her ear and feather light kisses pressed to her neck and cheeks.

As halftime arrived the odds seemed to be in England's favor, they were playing incredibly. Leah was beaming, I mean they still had to score a few more goals cause you were sure the oranje leeuwinnen weren’t done with one goal. But so far so good, your girlfriend knew the second half would be even more important but she still pulled you in for a kiss. Her smile couldn’t be wiped off her face. Her left arm was placed over your shoulders “Williamson suits you baby, wear it more often?” “Haa you wish my love, it will boost your ego more, it's big enough as it is.” a light giggle escapes your lips, kissing her cheek. “Ughhh you're cruel and my ego isn't that big.” she proceeds to wrap both her arms around you while your faces are inches away. “And here you are, in love with little ol cruel me, so that's on you Le.” “I wouldn't have it any other way, you are the best thing that's ever happened to me,” planting a tender kiss to your forehead, you sense a smirk forming on her lips “after the Euro’s win of course.” This statement earns her a slap to her upper arm “Leah!” “I’m kidding, I’m kidding baby.” due to her infectious laugh you can’t stay mad at her and laugh along.

Her demeanor changes pretty quickly. The second half isn’t as eventful as the first. They couldn't connect to their first half success, while the Netherlands were improving. After the regular 90 minutes it was looking good for England but a goal from Damaris soon followed. Everyone was on edge, Leah was seemingly worried. But Lucy came and told the dutchies to hold her purse and scored. People in the stand were going wild, surely this was it. England would be in the Olympics. An emotional rollercoaster coming to an end. Yet their joy didn't last long as Damaris surprisingly scored again.

As the girls found out, most of them began to burst into tears. Leah too. She immediately seeked the comfort of your neck and hid there for a few minutes until she calmed down. She wasn't crying the whole time as Leah normally has her emotions under control but you provided her with calmness and safety which she desperately needed in this moment. You both proceeded to head to the pitch, to be with the others.

Of course that didn’t mean you weren’t happy for Viv or the other leeuwinnen. The sadness overflowed you tho. The lionesses were all down. That didn't leave you with much room to think of something else except to console them. Both teams held a special place in your heart. You couldn't bear to watch them wallow in self pity. If you could do anything, and you mean anything to bring even the littlest smile on their faces you would try. You went to each and every girl with Leah to hug them. To tell them how incredible they played. And yeah it may not have been good enough but that's not what they should be focusing on right now. Who am I kidding, that's exactly what we are looking at. But they won 6 to 0, what a massive win. You were so incredibly proud of the girls and so was Leah. She made sure everyone on the team knew. To not beat themself up.

Leah also realized that because they were missing this tournament they’d at least have the essential rest in the summer. Finally a break in players' arduous schedules.

#england lionesses #woso imagine #woso #oranje leeuwinnen #leah williamson #woso x reader #fem reader #engwnt #leah williamson x reader #arsenal women

155 notes · View notes

scribble-dribble-writes · 10 months

Note

What about Miguel having a training session with the reader (preferably f!reader) and things get steamy? 👀

This had me kicking and giggly my feet hahahaha

Hope you like it!!

---

Dream girl

Word count: 2500

Content: lovers to enemies to lovers hehe

---

You watched him enter the gymnasium as you stretched in the corner. You were sure no one was going to be here, least of all when all the spider people were out fighting crime. But you should have known, he never crawled out of his cave except for when he wanted to. So why now?

You and Miguel had a history many knew about. It was well established that the both of you couldn’t stand each other, but that was because there was a time when you did. Your paths crossed each other’s briefly. You were in love for a second in a universe that didn’t offer lifetimes.

You picked up your bag to leave, not in any way interested to engage with him. He kept to the periphery, so if was clear he didn’t want to either. But catching glimpses of him wasn’t all bad, you would look at his hands and remember the time it wrapped around your waist. Or his smile and how it was only reserved for you but now you only gave each other your scowls.

The rumor around spider society was he had found someone else. A new woman that he was entertaining and you weren’t sure why it pricked you. It annoyed you and seeing that your hands were still wrapped in gloves, you convinced yourself another round on the boxing bag would help you blow of some steam.

Why was it that even after years the very thought of him got under your skin?

You were deep in your zone, headphones in, music blaring, your knuckles landing on the bag with a force enough to shatter walls but somehow not enough to erase him from your mind. It was when you felt the imprint of his palms on your waist, your blood surged. No matter how hard you sweat or workout, you knew that he was your one true love, always haunting your mind.

There could be no one after him and yet he seemed to move on easily from you. But the lingering touch turned into an instructive shove. Straightening your waist to fix your stance, he was next to you.

Your eyes widened as you removed your headphones. Pulled away from your workout to his unenthused gaze, “Can’t have people slacking around here. Your stance still has it’s flaws.”, he stopped the bag from swinging around.

“Sure.”, you rolled your eyes which earned you a slight grin from him and as much as you hated it, it lightened you up a bit.

“Save me the lecture, I was going to head out anyway.”, you moved towards your bag to gather your items.

“Uh huh.”, he narrowed his eyes at you as though he could see what was going on beneath the surface, that he could see you like no one else and you hated him for it.

“That’s because you’re scared I might ask you to spar with me.”, he commented as he shrugged his shoulders and it was the spark your fuse needed.

“Scared? Of you and your pathetic display of acrobatic stunts?”, you faced him folding your arms.

“I don’t think so.”, you furrowed your brows.

“Sounds like an excuse.”, he clicked his tongue to turn and walk away to the center of the soft floored pit.

He walked away, while in the middle of a conversation, that you were never supposed to have in the first place. You groaned as you trudged behind him spouting more reasons as to why he was wrong. He was always wrong about everything, like when he told you he couldn’t have you around him because he couldn’t afford to have loose ends.

You were as capable as him, as strong as him and yet he pushed you away, dumping all your love out onto the pavement. How could you not hate him after that?

“Well fine, I’ll prove it to you.”, you dropped your bags and gloves.

“I’m not going to fight you.”, he chuckled looking quite surprised that you had given into his taunt.

“Now you have to.”, you raised your fists, assuming the right stance as you leveled your feet on the ground.

“Come on, you can’t be serious.”, he turned to you with that mischievous look in his eyes. He wasn’t the only one who could see past facades. You knew him like the back of your hand.

You shrugged your shoulders, signalling him to join you when he turned his back to you once again. Dismissing you once again. You could feel the anger being to pulse in your veins.

“It wouldn’t be a well balanced fight. I’ve got claws and you’ve got … well, just hands.”, he was wiping his face in a towel when his high handed statement was your breaking point.

You didn’t wait for him anymore, now you lunged at his back. Your frustration now bursting out of the bottle you had sealed it in. But he dodged it as though he predicted your move.

That didn’t stop you, you found your footing again to turn to him, his eyes trailing down your body as if he was evaluating you.

“You’ve been practicing what I taught you, haven’t you?”, he stood with his arms folded as if this wasn’t an interesting fight.

There it was again, the fuse, you yelled in annoyance as you tried to land another blow. He dodged to the right. Another punch, he stepped back. He was fast, his eyes alive with the same glimmer he held long ago.

You stopped, the proximity causing you to feel betrayed again. Here in this room, training together, it felt like old times and you had grown to miss it. It was easy to hate him, like now as he stood in front of you looking stellar as always. It was clear he didn’t feel anything for you as strongly as you felt for him.

But that was long ago. Right now, he was a better alternative to a punching bag. He was getting you riled up so it was your turn, to dig into the cold hidden secrets of his mind, to taste the victory you craved.

“How’s it going with the new girlfriend?”, you asked and watched as his grin vanished, replaced with a more serious expression.

“Where did you hear that?”, he questioned but if was the perfect window to land a kick to his guts. Which you did, he stumbled back grunting at the light impact.

“Oh I see how it is.”, he smiled as winced resuming his stance, now with hunger in his eyes and his hands drawn. Now it was going to be a well balanced fight.

“Why do you have to be so difficult?”, he question as he lunged towards you.

“I’m difficult?”, you raged, blocking his punch.

“You’re the one who’s lured me into a fight.”, you ducked to swivel around him.

“Why didn’t you walk away as always?”, he questioned which caused you to wait, to think of an answer and instead made you miscalculate your aim.

“Because…”, you paused as your fist missed his face by an inch.

“Because?”, he asked catching your hand in his and instead of pushing you away he pulled you in as though he was more intent on your answer rather than all this dramatic charade.

You froze, his eyes boring into yours as if he was searching for some sort of green light while you didn’t want to pull away from his touch.

But you saw through it all, your past reminding you that he was going to abandon you again, that the same flicker of hope in your chest was futile to have.

You broke out of his hold, looping beneath his arm to place your back on his. “Because we’re drawn to each other fire and gasoline.”, you respond to his question but you felt his back move as he inhaled deeply.

“I don’t remember it being like that.”, he said softly and the fire within you died. Replaced with the warmth of his body, you leaned back into it. Tilting your head back for a second, to rest it on the rise of his shoulder blade.

“ How do you remember it?”, you asked as you both caught your breaths, it was foolish to relive those moments.

“Quiet nights where you held me close.”, he said it and those memories washed over you. His hand softly wrapping around your wrist to pull to the front.

“Your constant belief in me.”, he took your hand in his, his thumbs slowly tracing your knuckles over the scars you had from scraping them during your workout.

But the sudden reality of where you were ripped you from the comfort of your memories. You pulled away your hand before he could place it on his cheek. You wanted to go home. You wanted to ignore him again, so you tugged his hand behind his back as you pushed him, destabilizing him to make him fall but what you didn’t predict was how he took you along with him.

He cushioned your fall, his hand up the small of your back while yours were sprawled out over him, you could hear the thump of his heart under your palm and the way his chest rose and fell with his rapid breathing.

“Why won’t you let me open up to you again?”, he looked hurt and as you took in his features, he looked tired. The eyebags under his eyes were a bit prominent, rough stubble lined his jaw. He looked like a mess.

“Enemies don’t confide in each other. It’s not good to have your secrets known by someone else.”, you told him but all you wanted to do was lean in and hold the side of his face.

“But you know all my secrets.”, his gaze flitted to your lips before he found yours again.

“And I know all of yours.”, he whispered tracing his hand lower, over the curve of your hip and into the edge of your inner thigh.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

“Tell me you miss me.”, he pleaded.

“Tell me you want me.”, he sighed as though he was harboring a broken heart.

“I can’t pretend to hate you anymore.”, he held you firm against his body, not giving your room to escape.

“You broke my heart, Miguel. I can hate you for however long I wish.”, you pushed away from him, leaving him lying on the floor. You didn’t want to continue this conversation. You didn’t want to have the loneliness in his voice stuck in your head. You grabbed your bag and began to walk to the door. But he got up and followed you.

“Don’t you think it broke mine to send you away?”, he asked, now his voice simmering with pent up anger.

“I did it to keep you safe.”, he continued and you continued to walk away.

“No it’s because you don’t think I’m capable enough to take care of myself.”, you spoke but he caught your wrist getting you to stop, to turn to him.

“deja de alejarte.”, he grumbled.

So you stayed still, his face crumbling as he revealed his true intentions

“no hay otra mujer.”, he spoke.

“no hay forma de olvidarte.”, he said passionately

“así que sácame de mi miseria.”, he sat down on the bench leading you to stand in the space between his legs.

“ya no puedo hacer esto.”, he said finally pulling you closer by the hem of your pants to place his head on your abdomen.

He had done it out of the fear of his past. He was afraid of losing all this while all you had done was assume the worst. You sunk your fingers into his hair, your anger disappearing because all this while it was trying to tell you that you still loved him. You hated him because you were fighting it but now, as his warm breath skimmed over the skin of your torso.

Maybe putting him out of his misery would also put you out of yours. Because the solution was the same. You were both lovesick.

“Did you really mean it when you said my fighting stance had flaws?”, you asked jokingly.

“No.”, he mumbled his arms now wrapping around yours as he nuzzled further.

“Fine. I forgive you then.”, you stroked his hair as he looked up at you, his eyes now relaxing into those tender pink hues.

“de verdad?”, he asked as he smiled, the one he reserved only for you.

You nodded your head and couldn’t help but smile as he beamed, the sadness had disappeared from his face. You stepped away from him, it was getting late and all this reconciliation had put you in a much better mood. You could finally relax, so you bid him goodbye while he sat there, watching you leave.

You took a few steps and as the cold air wrapped around you, you changed your mind. You turned to him to see that his eyes were on you with that stupid grin on his face because he knew, he knew you would turn to run back to him. Dropping your bag were you stood, you walked towards him as if you had been parched and he stood to meet you halfway with such immediacy that it was clear that you both had missed eachother.

His hands fit perfectly around your waist, your lips found its home on his and now sheltered in the dark corner of an empty gymnasium, there was no need to rush. He pulled you by the edge of your jaw to kiss you passionately at first but then it simmered, almost as if he wanted to be here for hours, his lips moving softly and slowly over yours with no need to feel breathless as he gave you perfect interludes to inhale and exhale as he whispered his sweet adoration.

“eres mi única chica soñada.”, he said it with his eyes closed, his lips travelled wherever it pleased just like his hands, making up for all the time you had lost.

“You won’t ask me to leave again,”, you paused, his eyes snapping to yours as he took in the creases on your forehead.

“Will you?”, you asked, your voice bearing out your vulnerability of being heart broken again. You wouldn't be able to get through it again. You would have to carry his memory forever.

“nunca”, he said it with conviction as he tucked your hair behind your ear to then cup your cheek.

“Now let me kiss your worries away.”, he lulled you towards him with his sweet voice and there was no resisting that invitation.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction

547 notes · View notes

lovelybarnes · 1 year

Text

Maybe Later- B. Barnes

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader, sam wilson, thor odinson Warnings: alcohol, bucky is drunk (ooc? Have we ever seen him drunk i watched all of his scenes lol) About: this quote thing. I dont know if i got what i was aiming for. (“marry me” “maybe later”

Three-oh-two glows red in pinched little lines on your alarm, blunt in the darkness of the room and sharp against the pale light the moon manages through margins between your curtains. The numbers are smudged in sleep as you blink awake from what was meant to be a short rest for your eyes, bent and refracted like you’re looking through a finger-smudged window. You could easily mistake it for a dream if your phone weren’t singing loudly from your bedside table.

With a groan, you slam a hand over it, the piercing noise insistent even with your fingers wrapped around its width. You squint against the brightness of the screen, sitting up when you recognize Sam’s contact name in bold white letters.

“Hello?” you greet tiredly, rolling your shoulders as your weariness begins to pass. The rivets of your jeans dig into your abdomen, your casual shirt proves itself not soft enough for sleep, and you pick at the shoulder. The blankets are creased and made beneath you.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” Sam’s voice comes through rough and curved in a smile you can see through the phone. “Got somethin’ for you.”

You blink at the wall. “What?”

“A grumpy old man.”

“Which one?” An amused crackle smothers the delicate silence. “What happened to twelve? I tried to wait.”

“Someone had a little too much to drink.” There’s commotion from the other side of the line, a joyous yell and shattering. Sam groans loudly.

“Well, Asgardian liquor tends to stir something in our Avengers,” you mumble, scooting to the edge of your bed to squeeze on your shoes, squished and set next to you at the ready.

“You have no idea.” Sam mutters. Bucky’s voice suddenly comes through, distant and too distorted to make out specifics. “Incoming.”

“I have a little one,” you digress, lashes kissing at their edges in your search for the car keys that had been at your hip.

“Hey, what the hell was that noise--” Sam begins, far away, before he’s abruptly cut off. “Hey--”

“Honey?” Bucky’s voice is loud enough that you wince and pull the speaker away from your ear, catching a glint from your bed. “S’that you?”

“Yeah, darling, it’s me,” you murmur, voice a little honeyed as you hook a finger through the car key ring peeking from behind a pillow.

“I miss you,” his words bump into each other, so heartfelt he can’t get them out fast enough with a heavy tongue. “Will y’come get me please?”

“I’m on my way. Don’t get into too much trouble,” you command gently, jaw against the soft flesh of your neck to keep your phone steady while you pull at your left shoe.

He makes a disgruntled noise. “F’course not.”

“Don’t drink any more, you’re going to have a killer hangover tomorrow as it is.” You step out of your room and make your way to the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor.

“That is not true. My tolerance is,” he hiccups and bursts into a startled laugh, “high. Way higher than Steve’s.”

“Is that true?” You chuckle, stepping out once the doors have parted.

“Yeah,” Bucky affirms agreeably.

“Interesting. Can’t wait to see how Golden Boy is doing.”

“Not great, but at least he’s having fun,” Sam cuts in, Bucky’s indignance about it muffled over the phone. “He’s going to regret--Barnes, give me a second--he’s gonna regret ever touching the--Barnes, damn it--the stuff. You asshole, you have your own phone--”

There’s a click and then silence, where you’re left staring amusedly at a dimming screen with one foot ready to climb into your car. “Well then,” you mumble, shutting off the device before you set it neatly in the cupholder between the two front seats. After you’ve turned on the engine and begun to set off, you turn mournfully to the clean inside of your car and hope ceaselessly that it’ll stay that way.

You’re only a few minutes from Sam’s house when your phone rings out a familiar bouncy tune you’d had Bucky pick out for his identifying ringtone. It was sweet and melancholy all at the same time, and it had taken him ten seconds and a look at your beaming face for him to label it as his.

His voice is stretched out and mournful when you answer, your name replaced with a rare Baby?

“Hey, honey. Found your phone?”

He ignores you, breathing out a long sigh. “I miss you.”

“We just talked on the phone,” you laugh. “I haven’t even given you a chance to miss me yet.”

He seems to mull it over for a short moment, elongated in his hazy mind. “Are you on your way?”

“I’m almost there.”

“That’s good because I miss you.”

“Do you now?” you hum.

“Steve knows,” Bucky pillars.

“I bet he does,” you laugh. Bucky hums in confirmation. “How much have you had to drink?” you ask. “You even sound a little different.”

“I missed this,” Bucky muses drily. “I love Asgard.”

“You’re going to take that back tomorrow.” You turn and spot the name of Sam’s street. “But it’s okay because I’ll take care of you.”

What follows you don’t expect. Bucky breathes out loud, nearly doleful, coming out static on your end.

You frown. “Bucky? Is something wrong?”

“No,” he sulks, a complete lie.

You don’t bother pushing him when he’s more stubborn than usual and you’re only a voice on his phone. “If you say so. I’m almost there, okay? I’m going to hang up now.”

“Don’t hang up. I want to hear your voice.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” you catch sight of Sam’s house. “I hang up, and you’ll get a lot more than my voice in a minute. What do you think?”

There’s a petulant sigh on the receiver. “What about the wonders of technology?”

“What happened to ‘we did just fine in the forties’?”

He says your name long and pleading.

“You get very dramatic when you’re drunk, you know that? I’ll be with you before you know it.”

“No. No… c’mon, please, dove.”

“I’m pulling in!” you exclaim.

“I don’t see you.”

“That’s not surprising. Seeing through walls isn’t a super-solder ability as far as I know,” you tease, shutting off the engine and unbuckling yourself. You nestle your phone between the soft crook of your neck as you open the door.

You can see Bucky pout through the phone.

“I’m coming in. Stop gossipping about me to the guys, okay?” you goad, coming to a stop in front of the door. It’s only a glance at the doorbell before Sam, bare-chested, appears in the doorway, haloed by light and smoke from his house. You gape at him. “Why are you--”

“Get him out of my house.”

“I’m trying,” you muster, letting him usher you inside. The house is a mess, with Avengers strewn on the couches and cups everywhere.

“Get them all out of my house. Why did I volunteer to host?”

You shrug, shaking your head as you observe the mess.

Bucky says your name from the phone, reminding you that he’s still on the line, but you don’t need to answer once you spy him in a kitchen seat next to Steve, slumped next to him.

Bucky’s face is bothered, his voice echoed each time he says something. Once you’re a few steps behind him, you hang up and slip your phone into your pocket.

Bucky grunts, pulling a face as he stares at his phone, fingers already moving to your contact just when you position yourself close enough to feel the heat of him on your skin. It’s only a moment testament to his inebriation before he turns, furrowed brows softening when his eyes meet yours. His phone clatters to the table, forgotten.

He murmurs your name, kind and relieved in a melancholy shade. Vibranium fingers twine their way between yours.

“Hey,” you whisper. “I found you.”

“You found me,” he parrots softly, pulling you closer nearly on instinct.

Your free index reaches up to brush a stray strand of brown hair from his face, grazing the warm skin of his forehead, and he leans into it, his other hand going up to grab it too.

You can’t help your smile, dipping down to constellate kisses along his hairline. “Ready to go home?”

He hums his agreeance, watching you with honey eyes. When he moves closer to you, Steve’s elbow slides down the table. With a quick swoop, you remove a hand from Bucky’s hold to cradle Steve’s head before it can slam down onto the surface. You turn to Sam in bewilderment. He shrugs.

Carefully, you set him down on the table, awkwardly patting his hair. “Didn’t think Captain America would go down because of alcohol poisoning, but I guess it had to be something.”

Bucky pulls on the hand he’s still holding, bringing your attention back to him.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, crouching to be able to see him better.

He grins dumbly, majorly soft. “You look pretty.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the pleased little swoop of your heart. “You look pretty too, you know that?”

“He knows,” Sam cuts in, near accusing toward you.

“Shut up, Sam,” Bucky mumbles.

Sam scowls. “In my own damn house.” He moves to Steve, draping him over himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow, gotta lug all these idiots onto their sides.”

“Okay,” you laugh, “thank you, Sam.”

He grunts in reply, leaving you and Bucky alone. He’s already looking at you when you turn to him again.

“Do you need help getting up?” you ask. He shakes his head but you throw his arm over your shoulder anyway, pulling him to his feet. He’s heavy but at least somewhat steady with your help. “God, Buck.”

“”S all muscle.”

“I know,” you assure amusedly.

The walk only lasts a couple of seconds before Bucky begins to sway. You try your best to hold him up, but are forced to slump into a couch with him when the top of your left knee bumps into one. Instead of helping, Bucky clamps his fingers around your wrists when you move to get up. He’s staring again.

“What?”

“Y’came to pick me up,” he says, as if just realizing it. “All the way here.”

“Of course. I gotta get you home, baby.”

He grasps your hand. “Baby,” he repeats favorably.

You don’t usually call him that, and even in his drunken stupor, he realizes it.

“What’s the time?” he demands suddenly.

“Three? Four?” you assume, preoccupied with sitting up. He’s distracted enough to sit by as you stand, knees bumping into his. “Very late. Or, early, I suppose.”

He inhales deeply, staring up at you with his lovely eyes.

“What’s wrong?” you query immediately, voice dropping to a softer pitch.

“You came for me,” he echoes.

“I did,” you agree patiently. “Wanna stand up so we can get home?”

“I love you.” It’s the most sober he’s sounded.

“I love you too,” you assure, dipping down to hold his jaw between your fingers. A demuring thumb swipes across his cheek. “You know that.”

“I do,” he whispers.

You smile, squeezing him lovingly between your palms, nebulously elated that he knows he’s loved. “Up,” you murmur, pulling on him until he’s just above hovering over the couch.

“Marry me,” he blurts, as if it’s been on the tip of his tongue, words carved earnestly and permanently; overdue.

You smile at him, focused on bringing and keeping him on his feet. Once he is, you take small steps toward the door. “Maybe later.”

“Y’promise?” he’s your hazy eyes when you’re focused entirely on him, cupping the sharp point of a chair before you can bump into it. Clumsily, he pulls open the door, wanting to wait until you’re out first but you don’t let him.

“I do,” you respond as you guide him to your car, helping him crawl in and looping an index around his seatbelt. His fingers interrupt you before the buckle has grazed further than his chest. “Bucky?”

He extends his pinky and stares at you pointedly.

Complying, you curve your pinky around his.

He’s satisfied, letting you buckle him in and watching as you round the car to your seat.

“Thor should come more.”

“We’ll see,” you laugh, starting the engine.

He pulls at the arm nearest to him before you can begin driving, extending his fingers out expectantly. It’s familiar but strange to see from the driver’s perspective. Still, you obey.

“I’m hungry,” he declares, settling in as you drive. “Can we get pizza?”

“Maybe later.”

2K notes · View notes