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#my next chapter should be out PROBABLY next week!!
jayjj7 · 23 hours
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chapter 26. in a good way
prev. | next | masterlist
a/n: HEY GUYS IM BACK SORRY I WAS GONE FOR LIKE 2 OR 3 WEEKS I RAN OUT OF IDEAS
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“okay okay! i’m going!” you stood up from the couch while bae was smacking your back. your dog followed behind you excitedly, probably expecting a walk. you were under the impression that a package was delivered or some kid was doing a ding dong ditch on you so you didn’t care to look good or anything.
opening the door, you were greeted by a nervous chaewon; hands shaking, shivering from the cold, minimal warm clothes compared to the strong breeze, and of course, cookies on hand.
“chaewon?” you say loudly, your friends in the living room immediately quiet down and peek around the corner to look at you two.
“you left these at my place the other day and i thought i should return them, you know like a good neighbor” she smiles handing you your sweater and hair tie which you didn’t even notice was missing.
“oh thank you” you take your items, trying not to look at chaewon out of embarrassment. but you couldn’t look at the ground forever, seeing chaewons hands shake made your stomach turn. you looked up at her to meet her gaze.
“i made these for you…and your friends” chaewon makes eye contact with jiwoo who was peeking her head from the kitchen. seeing her eyes divert from yours felt wrong, you turn to meet jiwoo’s eyes to which she retracts.
“oh sorry, i mean thank you! you’re really sweet for all of this, you know you don’t have to do all of this? you should’ve let me gone to pick my stuff up myself” you laugh take the cookies from her cold hands.
“i wanted to see you” her eyes don’t divert from yours. it was hard to tell if her cheeks and nose were cold from the outside or the from how close you two were.
“what happened the other day? why did you leave?”
before answering you turned to see your friends watching. not wanting everyone to hear your conversation you walk outside and close the door behind you.
“i’m sorry, i got embarrassed” you say as you sat down on a bench you had outside, chaewon followed.
“why?”
“i fell asleep on you”
“so? i fell asleep on you too”
you sigh being out of responses. you truly didn’t know what was so embarrassing about it but avoiding it was your best solution.
“you kinda ghosted me” chaewon laughs quietly
“i’m sorry” you turn to her
“what’s so embarrassing?” she tilts her head
you sigh before speaking. there was no excuse you can give that would justify yourself except for the real reason. regret fills your body and the embarrassment makes your cheeks go read. quickly you speak, almost unintelligible,
“because i like you and it’s really embarrassing if you don’t like me back and it was really embarrassing because you don’t like me and i shouldn’t have misinterpreted your kindness and i’m sorry and i hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship but it definitely will”
you breathe out.
chaewons eyes widen at your reasoning, she honestly had no idea about your crush, leaving her speechless.
“well don’t just go quiet! you wanted a reason there it is!” you roll your eyes and look away.
“yn”
“what?” you turn back to look at her.
“wait you’re so red! come inside it’s so cold!” you place your warm hand on her cheek in hopes of warming her up for a moment.
“wait stay here” is the last thing you hear before you feel a cold hand on the back of your neck, cold lips on yours, the breeze becoming the least of your concerns.
“it’s not that cold” she smiles
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sweetismyaddiction · 2 days
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Part 1 | Fic masterlist | Masterlist
SUCROSE
Chapter 2: Sugary
Paring: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Word account: 2005
Summary: Where the nicknames came from, how they meet, starts. (They live in the same building, in the same corridor, just in front of one another… which helps the friendship but couldn't stop Dr. Reid from falling in love)
Warnings: Fluff, friends to lovers, anxiety, mentions of menstruation and coffee facts?
A/N: English is not my first language. Reblog, like and comment. I am accepting suggestions for next parts. Please be nice. Past in italic. Gif is not mine, credits to the owner.
Spencer’s point of view
It has been weeks since Morgan met my neighbor and he can’t just drop it aside. At least he has capited a secret so far.
“I am just curious. That 's all. The girl has the key of your place and you never mentioned her.”
“I did talk about her…”
It's a murmur, Morgan almost can't hear it, maybe things were better when no one knew she existed besides me.
“She called you Sugarpout… Does Pretty Boy have a Lady?”
There is mocking in his tone, and a little of happiness.
“What exactly are you asking Morgan?”
“Are you two dating?”
“She is my friend, we ain't dating”
“Oh, pitty, she is beautiful, maybe I should gave a shot, she is very talkative”
“Leave the girl alone Derek.”
“Why? Are you jealous? Worried that I stil her? We could be your couple's best friend. Me and her would make cute babies”
“I am not jealous. Just shut up”
He leaves me be, we take care of paperwork, but he can't stop, it's like I can hear the engineers of his brain thinking.
“Ok, I just really got to know, where Sugarpout came from? I can't stop thinking about that”
“Why? Is just a nickname”
“A special nickname”
“Why does it matter to you?”
“Why so much secret?”
The truth is, I don’t really know why, where, when it all started. Is if we have being knowing each other even before we existed.
—----------------------------------------------------------
It was a rainy day, and I was just getting to my building when a strange woman got under my umbrella tugging herself at me.
“My savior. Could you leave me there? To that building?”
Was my building… is she a stalker?
“Sorry for just throwing myself at you. Is just I am made from sugar, so I could have melted with the rain”
Ok, she gots a weird sense of humor. Doesn’t she know about the danger of talking with strangers? That is one of the reasons I get so much work to do. She smells nice though… What am I thinking? Why is she staring at me? Say something Spencer!
“Ahn… yes… I was just going that way too.”
We walk together to the building and she opens the door, almost closing it in my face.
“Sorry. Why are you coming in?”
“I live here”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know that. I am a new resident. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too”
She didn’t try to shake my hand… so she respects boundaries and personal space the same way she doesn’t do that? She is so confusing, she seems like a very complex human being.
We both get to the elevator and she presses the button… is my floor button… How I didn’t know about someone moving to my floor? Maybe because I spent the last three days away in a case. The elevator stops and she gets out with me behind her, observing her body language. Wait a minute, that’s… she lives just in front of me.
“Are you following me?”
“Ehn…” she catch me staring, I am probably very red and more awkward then the normal me. “No, no. It's just, we are neighbors, I live here, just across the hall.”
She keeps looking at me, like if she is not sure to believe me or not, just open your damn door Spencer, and prove you ain't lying.
“See?”
“Nice place, very organized…”
When she ends up beside me? Her eyes run across my place, making quick analysis scanning what she can see by the door.
“Ok, I will live you be, sorry for being so intrusive, and thanks for the umbrella ride.”
“You’re welcome. Also, welcome to the building”
She smiles, her smile is pretty.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There is a nock on my door. Weird, I basically don’t get visited. I open it slowly and there she is the rain day girl, and she has something in hands.
“Hi, I made some cookies, and decided to give you some, since you were so nice to me that day”
“Oh, thanks.” I was very surprised. “You didn’t have to.��
“No problem, it is a pleasure. I hope you like them. It is the classic one, with chocolate drips.”
“It was very thoughtful of you. I really appreciate it.”
I take it from her hands, every time I see her there is that warm feeling, she is always so nice to me.
“How is the moving going?”
“Slow, I'm still putting things in place. The kitchen is almost ready. I am not in a rush to finish it to be honest. Just, baby steps, one day at a time…”
“Well, it is your space, your stuff, it is alright going slow, its you, it should go in your pace”
“Thanks. Well, when you finish the cookies you can return the ball.”
—--------------------------------------------------------------
The cookies were the most delicious ones I have eaten in my life. I made sure to compliment her, and the way she smiles and giggles, makes my heart beat faster in my chest.
Today I discovered that I am out of sugar, so why don't I go to the new girl? She made cookies and other delicious stuff she is always happy to share with me, for sure she has sugar.
“Just a cup? Sure Sweetie, I will go grab it for you, make yourself comfortable.”
I shyly enter her house, the first thing that hits me is the smell, I think haven smell exactly like it, I can see she still has a few boxes, but all the essentials are displayed, a kindle, books, a lot of types of books, fantasy, biography, history, classics… she also has a few plants, no much decoration… Why is that hard profile her?
“Here you go, a cup of sugar to my sweet boy”
I asked her sugar a lot of other times after that, just to see her, to feel my blood run in my veins, the fast piece of my heart, the smell invading my nose, that warm feeling.
—----------------------------------------------------------------
“Hi, so, do you have plans for today?”
She was standing outside my door, smiling at me, eyes glowing. How can she always be so beautiful?
“No. I did not plan anything for today.”
“Great. What do you say about taking me to a coffee shop? Any coffee you do like to go. Wanna know more about my neighbor.”
“Hm… Yeah, sure. I will just grab my things”
We go to a nearby coffeehouse and order our drinks while we have small talk.
“I love those cloudy and rainy days, so calm…”
Our orders get to the table and she points out when I drink my full of sugar cup of coffee
“Someone really likes sugar.” She smiles and is like electricity running me. “I can't drink black coffee, it gives me an awful headache.”
“Actually. Caffeine withdrawal could be an important but often overlooked cause of headache.”
She nods in agreement.
“People say that I am just being silly or have an infant paladar. I have tried a lot of types of black coffee, but nothing worked. So i decided just to drink my milk coffee, tha latte”
“Caffeine or 1,3,7-trimethylxanthine is totally, actually 99% and rapidly absorbed; it reaches the highest plasma concentrations after 30-60 minutes of ingestion, but this duration can be shorter or longer due to the variation in gastric emptying time. The half-life of caffeine fluctuates between 2.5 and 4.5 hours in young individuals but can be longer in elderly. Caffeine can cross all biological membranes including blood-brain barrier because of its lipophilic character. Only a very small amount of caffeine is excreted in the urine. It is metabolized in the liver, mainly by the cytochrome P450 1A2, to paraxanthine, theobromine, theophylline, and further to urates. Caffeine acts on the brain and the heart by blocking adenosine receptors and inhibiting phosphodiesterase. It is considered the most common psychostimulant, it enhances concentration, improves mood and energy, induces wakefulness, and enhances exercise performance. It can also trigger anxiety, tachycardia, and hypertension. Caffeine is known to cause dependence and withdrawal symptoms such as fatigue and headache.”
Oh, no, no. She is going to think I am such a weirdo now. Couldn't I just keep my mouth shut? Things were good, where nice, and now I ruin it all.
“I have heard that coffee was addictive, but I didn’t know it was absorbed that fast, or that it didn't get expelled out of our body by urine like most of the other drinks. Maybe one of those things causes my headache every time I try to drink black coffee”
“Caffeine also narrows blood vessels that surround the brain. That is its link to headache. In some types of headaches, the blood vessels in the brain dilate, or swell. They expand into the surrounding tissues, which triggers pain.”
Why can’t I shut my mouth, she is lookin at me. She will avoid me like the plague. Why am I like that? Can’t have anything nice, ever! It is like I can’t stop, and she does not stop me, so I just keep rumbling.
“Headaches in general are a common problem for reproductive age women. Migraine headaches are 3 times more common in women than men in this age group with the difference believed to be the result of hormonal fluctuations. In women with spontaneous ovulatory cycles, headaches have been documented to occur more frequently immediately before and during the first few days of menses. Approximately half of women with migraine headaches report their occurrence associated with menstruation, with decreasing estradiol levels hypothesized as the etiologic factor. Today's low-dose oral contraceptives all contain the same estrogen component (ethinyl estradiol [EE]) but vary in the progestin component. Until recently, all progestins in OCs, the oral contraceptives (norethindrone, levonorgestrel, desogestrel, and norgestimate) were derivatives of 19-nortestosterone. A novel OC with the progestin drosperinone (DRSP) is not derived from 19-nortestosterone, but instead derived from spironolactone. This DRSP-containing OC has been shown in a large placebo-controlled trial to significantly improve the physical and behavioral symptoms of premenstrual syndrome (PMS) and premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD) attributed to its unique antimineralocorticoid activity. This improvement in symptoms has been attributed to the antimineralocorticoid activity of the spironolactone-derived DRSP. Spironolactone is the only diuretic shown in randomized placebo-controlled trials to improve the behavioral and physical symptoms of PMS. While studies using validated instruments have shown improvement in PMS/PMDD with DRSP-containing OCs, headaches have not been specifically addressed.”
I managed to hold myself for a few seconds and she finally speaks something.
“Are you trying to mansplain my menstruation cycle to me?”
“No, no… that's not it, I was just…”
“It is ok, I believe you”
She smiles, how her chicks don’t hurt with how much she smiles? Why, how is her smile always so captive.
“Spironolactone. I didn’t know about the diuretic in the OCs. It is interesting to know that, I have noticed that when I drink more water my period of blood in the menstrual cycle feels less worse than normally does.”
She… she paid attention, and… interacted? My heart hammers as a symphony in my chest. It seems the whole word is more worm, as if I had been in the cold dark without releasing it until she showed up illuminating everything and involved me with a cozy blanket proofing there is more, what truly could my life be, how good could it be. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------
From that day, I knew I was different, happier, she became a constant thought, always making everything better, the world more supportable. I felt the butterflies, the tingling, that stupid and uncontrollable happiness, the craving of being in contact with her, the maximum and anyway I could. It just happened, little by little. With no rush, never.
“Hey, Kid.”
Morgan snaps his fingers in front of my eyes.
“Where did this pretty brain of yours was?”
The teasing again, but we hadn’t had time, JJ passed rushing calling for a case, urgent.
A/N: Did you guys like the dades I insert? I had to read a few articles, I have the links, they will be right below. Thanks for the support. If you like the little facts let me know so then maybe I will bring more (cause in my opinion is a very Spencer Reid thing to do, talk about the facts.)
Links:
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1663116/
https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S1051227621000339
https://www.uclahealth.org/news/caffeine-connection-between-coffee-and-headaches#:~:text=Caffeine%20also%20narrows%20blood%20vessels,surrounding%20tissues%2C%20which%20triggers%20pain.
https://headachejournal.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/j.1526-4610.2007.00650.x
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wittlesissyb4by · 6 hours
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Chapter 2
Chapter 1 Here
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go.” Mr. Pennyworth says. 
It feels like a dagger has been shoved into my stomach. I’m not sure what to say, so he just continues anyway. 
“Your productivity is by far the lowest in the company, you’re not reliable to show up on time or even at all, and your long hair is unprofessional and not befitting of this company’s standards.” He clears his throat, sifting through some papers. “We also have reason to believe you called-in on Friday without actually being sick.”
“What makes you think that?” I say, finally speaking up for the first time. 
He shrugs, “Let’s just say we got an anonymous tip.”
******
“Everything alright with you?” Max asks, moving his pawn forward to free up his bishop. 
“I’m fine,” I say, half-heartedly moving my knight with no clear plan in place. “Lost my job today.”
Max frowns, moving his bishop out as I expected. “I’m really sorry, dude. That sucks to hear.”
“Yea…it’s fine, I guess,” I sigh, “Didn’t much like it there much anyway.” 
He still hasn’t said anything about the other day. I’m not sure if he actually saw anything, or he did and just doesn’t want to bring it up. How do you talk about seeing a bunch of sissy toys and diapers in your roommate’s room? Is that even something to talk about?
I remember back in college when my roommate at the time had found a slew of sissy porn on my computer. I was there when he saw everything. That sick feeling in my stomach took forever to go away. It’s back now. 
“Well if you start applying for jobs, you can always use me as a reference. Just say I’m an old manager or something.” He says, putting his Queen in a precarious position. I seize the opportunity and take it. I realize too late that it left my King open for an easy assault. An obvious trap I should have seen coming. 
“Checkmate.” Max says, smiling. 
******
As the weeks went by, so did the job opportunities and applications. I rarely received any callbacks, and even if I got an interview, I’d either get ghosted afterwards or they would call and say something to the degree of “after careful consideration, we’ve decided to go with another candidate.”
God, the job market is rough. 
My bank account is dangerously low. I probably should have done a better job of saving for times like this, but I guess I was more excited about buying outfits and diapers. Still, I’m not going to make it through the next month without some sort of income. It’s time to have the awkward conversation with Max. 
“Hey, man. Can I talk to you for a sec?” I say, shuffling my feet into the living room. 
He pauses the hockey game and turns to me, “what’s up?”
It’s such a weird topic to bring up, but I have to bite the proverbial bullet. “I’m having trouble finding a job…” I say sheepishly, “I didn’t work long enough at my last one to get severance, so…I’m a little low on funds.”
He just sits there, always with that stoic expression, listening intently. He doesn’t say anything, just lets me continue. 
“So…umm..I’m uh, gonna be short on rent this month.”
Again he continues to stare at me, as if deep in thought, stroking his beard. It almost seems a little exaggerated. Like he’s acting. 
“I see,” he finally says. “So you need me to help you?”
As demoralizing as it is to admit, I have to. “Yes…”
He smiles. “Okay. No problem.”
“Really?”
“Yea.”
I don’t know what to say. A weight of anxiety and fear is lifted off my shoulders. I can feel it melt away as I start to relax. “Thanks man, I really do appreciate it. I’ll find a way to make it up to you, I promise. Anything you need, just let me know.”
His eyes have a strange glint to them. Like he was hoping I would say exactly that. 
“I actually do have a job in mind for you,” He says, “You can start today.”
I sense a sudden shift in the air around the room. He leans back on the couch a bit, patting the seat next to him. I find myself sitting down beside him, not exactly sure what’s going on, but sensing something amiss. 
Max puts his hand on my leg, “it’s okay, nothing to worry about.” he says softly. I feel myself release a breath, feeling comforted, but still a little uneasy. 
It’s like he’s holding something back. Like he’s trying to find the words but doesn’t know how to say it. I wonder if he knows. If he saw the things in my room.
“I saw the things in your room.” He says. 
Yea, I’d say he knows…
My stomach does that familiar churning. The shame of what I've done, or been caught doing coursing through me. “I-i can explain…”
“Don’t bother.” He says, waving it away. “I’ve always had my suspicions.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I’ve always tried to be so reserved and secretive with my true desires. I didn’t think anyone else would notice. 
He shifts on the couch again. When he does, something catches my eye, there’s a very large bulge in his shorts. 
Noticing me looking at the log snaking down his leg, he starts running his hand over it and smiling. “Have you ever sucked a cock before?”
I realize my mouth is hanging open. I gulp, shaking my head. “Not a real one.”
He laughs at that, it breaks some of the tension, then he shrugs. “Well, there’s a first time for everything…” he gently pulls at his zipper, snaking it down ever so slowly. But he doesn’t pull it out, just leaves it open, letting my imagination run wild. “Do you want to suck it?” He asks. 
Again I find myself dumbfounded, this is all happening so fast, but before I can think about it I find the word escaping my lips. 
“Yes.”
He chuckles. “Good, because you were going to have to do it anyway. This place ain’t cheap.”
After our awkward laughter dies down, I’m left in the precarious position of what to do next. Luckily, he guides me after several seconds of silence. 
“Open my pants.”
I reach a shaky hand to his button, it takes me a bit to get my fumbling fingers to work it free. 
Again, I’m lost as to what to do next. Should we kiss? Do I close my eyes? What do I—
“Take it out.”
His direction helps. It’s easier for me to follow orders than it is to take initiative in such uncharted territory. I reach my hand into the waistband of his boxers, feeling around for it, my heart beating out of my chest. It doesn’t take me long at all to find the warm, fleshy member. I gently pull it back, it bends a bit before snapping out of the boxers to stare straight up at me. 
It’s big. Very big. I can barely wrap my fingers around it. The veins are popping out the side, and I can even feel his own heart beating through it. Pulsing. Rapidly. He’s just as nervous as I am but he doesn’t show it. 
“Well...it’s not gonna suck itself…”
I realize I’ve been staring at it for a while. I use my other hand to wipe the drool from my mouth. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Somehow my throat feels both dry and wet at the same time, it doesn’t even make sense. Finally, I push past the nervous excitement, and lean forward. His cock seems to grow as it gets closer to my face. I’ve imagined this moment over and over for years. I’ve watched countless videos through the lens of girls wearing a GoPro on their head taking big, giant dicks into their mouths. But somehow this is different. I’m the girl now. It’s my POV, and it’s what I've always dreamed of. 
I open my mouth when I’m inches away and close my eyes, imagining I'm one of the girls in those videos. 
The head of his dick already feels different than my dildos. It’s squishier, warmer, and tastes just a little bit salty, but in a good way. In a great way. This is what I've always wanted, and I’ve finally gotten it. 
I hear a soft moan escape my lips just before they close around his cock. It sounds pathetic, but I don’t care. Things finally feel…right. Like this is what was supposed to be in my mouth all along. All those things they told me in sissy porn were true. 
I take him deeper in my mouth. I find it easier to slide it  down my throat than my dildo. I take it as far as I can until my eyes water, then go back up for a breath. 
In the overwhelming rush of stimuli, I forgot all the techniques I’ve practiced for so long. I try to remember: swirl your tongue, suction on the way up, not down, and most importantly: keep it nice and wet. 
I let the drool run from my mouth, using my hand to coat his cock with it, taking a breath before diving back down. 
“Someone’s been practicing.” He breathes. 
I melt at his praise. I always wanted to be a cocksucker, and I always hoped I’d be a good cocksucker. But you never really know, my dildo doesn’t make noises. 
But him? He was breathing heavily, moaning, groaning, and doing all the things that told me I was doing something right. It ignited a fire in me. With every grunt he made I found myself getting more and more enthusiastic so as to make it happen again. 
Leaning over across the couch next to him is a bit awkward, though. 
He notices. “Get on your knees.”
I take him out of my mouth and scramble a little too eagerly onto the floor between his legs. 
He looks down at me, almost victoriously, like his plan has come to fruition. I am in no way perturbed. In fact, my cock is screaming inside my pants. I don’t think I've ever been this hard in my life. 
“Looks like you’re enjoying yourself.” He says, apparently noticing my penis poking prominently through my pants. “You can touch it.” 
Is that his decision? I guess so…because as soon as he says it I find my hand going inside my pants. 
“No no.” He says. “On the outside. Rub it like you’re a girl. A sissy girl.”
Just the sound of that word gives me a wave of pleasure. I’m so hot and bothered that my body is quaking. I love the way he’s dominating me. Taking my power away so I don’t have to make the decisions myself, and therefore making me more relaxed about doing something I may otherwise have chickened-out on. Would I be here, on my knees, about to suck his cock if he hadn’t made me? Is he making me? Or am I doing it on my own volition?
I knead the front of my crotch. Feeling my throbbing cock and nestling my aching balls. I feel a bit weird with him watching me, so I turn my attention back to his cock. Well, more specifically, his balls. I’ve learned that when worshipping a man—as I’m doing right now—maintaining eye contact while lapping at his balls is one of the perfect ways to show your submission. I also know (from being on the receiving end) that having your balls sucked does not feel nearly as good as porn makes it seem, it’s actually kind of painful. 
So after licking his sack and stroking for several seconds, I spit on his dick and take it back into my mouth with renewed vigor. My own balls are aching at this point, I can feel them turning blue. I use two fingers and twirl them in circles over my pants while I bob up and down on Max’s dick. 
“Fuck yea…” he moans. God it feels so good to make him make those noises. “I’m gonna cum.” 
So am I. 
Knowing he’s on the verge gets me insatiably hot. I want nothing more than to get him to bust in my mouth, like some sort of primal need. 
I hear myself moaning again. I’m not sure if it’s from the pleasure I'm giving or receiving. 
“You want it in your mouth?” He asks considerately. 
“Mhmm!!” I swoon hungrily around his dick. My hand gyrates over my own. The thought of making a man cum in my mouth is too much to handle. I feel a warmth fill my pants as I shake and convulse, trying to keep my focus on his dick while I spasm in an intense orgasm. 
I feel the desire begin to fade. The reality of what I'm doing seeping in. This is my roommate, and I’m on my knees in our living room slobbering all over his big dick like a girl he just met on Tinder. 
“Ohh yea…” he twitches. I can feel the head of his penis swelling, even more than it was before. It gets me excited again. Eager. Desperate. “Right there, just like that! I’m almost there…”
I’ve never been on the receiving end of that statement. Guys saying they’re almost there but are actually a few minutes out. 
My cheeks are starting to burn, my throat is getting sore, it burns from the bile of gagging, I need air, to take a break and a breath, but I don’t want to lose my progress. I need to power through and do what I need to do. 
He grips the cushion of the couch. His legs flail and tense. The head of his cock is bigger than ever. His breathing becomes labored, syncopated, and then it stops. 
That’s when I felt the first gush hit my tongue. Even though I was expecting it, I wasn’t exactly ready for it. Another pump, and then another. I worry I won’t be able to hold it all. 
He gives a big exhale, and that’s when I know he’s spent. I hold his dick and his cum in my mouth a bit, not exactly sure what to do next. I suck a bit more to pull out any remaining drops, then take him out of my mouth. 
The jizz is warmer than I expected it to be, saltier too, but it doesn’t taste bad. It’s my reward. A token of my accomplishment. I just sucked my first real dick, and it was everything I hoped it would be. 
I gulp down the load, smiling gratefully like any good little slut would. 
“Good job.” He says, patting me on the head like I’m a well-behaved puppy. “Now run along…”
That’s it. He doesn’t say anything else. Just pulls up his pants, zips them back up, grabs the remote, and resumes the Hockey game. 
A little disheveled, I wipe the slobber from my mouth, get up, and head out of the room like a discarded toy. What did I expect to happen? For us to cuddle and whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ear? I don’t even think I would want that. But to be thrown away like that makes me feel…used. 
Then I remember the wet, sticky stain in my pants. A reminder that I enjoyed myself, a lot. 
So I guess it’s no surprise that when I got back to my room, I shut the door, locked it, and started enjoying myself two more times…
To Be Continued
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gh0stsp1d3r · 2 days
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ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇
Chapter 6- just like your father
Series masterlist
Warnings- once again not too much rafe): I’m trying to get more rafe in the next parts, the readers drunk the whole time basically lol
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“Now a live update from the sheriffs department.”
“Yeah, after six weeks, the five teens that had been missing from Kildare county have returned, been reunited with their families.” Rafe went closer to the tv, sitting down and staring out. “We’re still waiting for details about their journey. But I’m sure they have quite a tale to tell.”
“We also got word that the father of one of the teens, John B Routledge, who’s been presumed dead for a year now, has also returned live and well. Wonders never cease. Right now, we’re just trying to get those kids settled back into school, with their families. They’ve been through a lot.”
“The teens were down in Kildare island with two other Kildare teens, Sarah Cameron and Y/N Maybank.” The sheriff spoke.
Rafes eyes widened at the mention of you and his sister.
“Sarah’s the daughter of disgraced real estate magnate, Ward Cameron, who confessed to the murder of Peterkin two months ago. y/n is the daughter of Luke Maybank, who is also presumed missing after escaping prison.”
Rafe watched as both of your pictures were put on screen, he recognized yours to be one of you you posted to your instagram, you at the beach. He was in the background, he noticed upon looking closer. Then, a picture of your brother, you and your dad.
You looked at the tv screen, scoffing at the picture they put up when they said your dad’s name. A picture of you, JJ and your dad. It was JJ’s first day of school, you remember that day as if it was your own first day of school.
You gripped the can harder, heavily sighing and leaning back in the chair. Yeah, you’d need more than one drink today.
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“When I was there, Rafe was talking about how the cross was his. Not- not Ward’s.” You told them all, hiccuping after and covering your mouth.
“Are you- are you seriously drunk right now?” Pope asked, all of them noticing the way you slurred your words.
“Fuck off. I’m an adult. Can do whatever I want.” You said with a childish giggle.
“It’s like 10 am in the morning.”
“Yo!” Kiara sapped her fingers. “Can we please get back on the topic?”
“Right. And he’s coming into Wilmington tonight at eight. It’s being shipped by train from like… R.. Ra… Raleigh I think? I dunno.”
“You get any other information?” Pope asked.
“Uh, y/n got the cargo number.” Kiara spoke, picking up the paper.
“Okay, well, that’s a start.”
“I mean, they’re definitely fencing that shit off as we speak. So we should probably get a move on.” JJ said, watching you down the rest of the can, and grab a 4th one next to you from your spot on the floor.
“Sarah, you hear from John B?”
“No, I mean, he’s probably off somewhere with his dad. But the problem is they have the Twinkie.”
“Our transportation.”
“I have a car, you know? It’s a hunk of shit, but it works.” You shrugged.
All of them raised their eyebrows at that. “It’s back at Ricky’s. I should probably go talk to him anyways.”
They all were hesitant, you could tell.
“I’m- I’m your only fuckin’ option, so, my car or nothing.”
“She’s right.” JJ told them, already hopping on his bike.
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“Ricky?” You shouted when you opened the door. He wasn’t home, you sighed, taking the keys off the counter and stumbling back outside.
“He not home?” JJ asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Nope.” You told him, locking the door. You go into the car, trying to get it started. But it never turns on, you groan in annoyance, fumbling with the keys, and trying again.
“Goddamnit!” You laughed, slamming your fist onto the dashboard and going out.
“It’s… not working.”
“Not working? What’s wrong with it?”
“I don’t know! It’s not fucking starting.” You shrugged.
JJ threw his hands up in defeat.
“Alright. That’s okay. We can.. try my dads.” Pope said.
“And I’ll try to see if my parents will.” Kiara spoke.
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You ended up going with JJ and Kiara to her parents.
“Jesus, Cleo was not wrong. It does look like the White House.” You mumbled when you entered. You drunkenly stumbled up the steps, JJ rolling his eyes and eventually just helping you up once you almost fell.
“We just found out it’s… it’s gonna be in Wilmington tonight.”
“Okay, and the cross is Popes family-“
“Popes family heirloom.” Kiara finished.
“Shit, this house is nice. Think we could just…?” You told JJ, grabbing an expensive bracelet sitting on the counter and pocketing it.
An idea popped into his head when you did that. If they don’t wanna give them the keys, he can take them.
“He’s alive!” Kiara argued. “JJ.” She turned, the cutlery clanking as he put it away guiltily, getting caught messing with it.
“Do rich people really need to use like… fancy everything? Like fancy plates? Is that necessary?” You mumbled, mostly to yourself as you took another sip.
“A little help?”
He put his hand up, counting off his fingers.
“Wards alive in the Carribean. He’s living off the loot he stole from us, and, uh, yeah, he’s flying across to Wilmington.”
“I was-“ you covered your mouth when you hiccuped again. “With them during the whole thingie. Basically I fell into the water…” you imitated water splashing with your hands.
“And it was like ‘ahhh! Now I’m stuck with my ex boyfriend who’s also crazy on an island, ahh!’ And then we went to some vacation home he has, and I saw Ward and he was like ‘sup, y/n. I’m alive.’ And that’s what happened.” You nodded to yourself, all of them staring at you dumbfounded.
“Give me a break, man.” Kiara’s dad spoke.
“Yeah, you’re right. What do I know? Just saw it with my own two eyes.” You shrugged, rolling your eyes and taking another sip from the bottle. “So did Kiara and JJ but, whatever.”
“I’m skeptical, okay? I am skeptical, y/n as in I think it’s all bullshit. And I think you’ve been led astray, Kiara. And you, JJ, Y/N- let’s get this out in the open.”
“Just take it down a bit-“ her mom tried.
“No. Let me tell you something, you need to understand that I do get it.”
“Sure you do.” You and JJ said in unison, you both laughing at that.
“Do you hear me?”
“Sure. Sure.”
“I like you, guys, and I bet you’re fricking fun to hang with, and to ditch school with, go down to the break, and.. drink beer,” he directed that last sentence to you, eyeing the can in your hand.
“because I was once just like you both. I didn’t think that anything mattered, thought I could make up any bullshit story and these stupid kooks would believe it. But then I learned about hard work.”
“Yeah, well, hard work doesn’t get you shit if you’re like us. I mean- shit, compared to me, you have no clue what hard work is like.” You spat, pointing to yourself. He was getting to close to JJ for your comfort.
He narrowed his eyes at you. “And about what really mattered. All I care about, all that I care about is my daughter. That’s it. And all I know is that she was a lot better off before she met you and your friends.” He said, this sentence directed to JJ.
“Dad, I was never better off!” Kiara argued, you looked at JJ, shaking your head when you saw his reaction. You were gonna kill this guy.
“I was miserable.”
“Miserable? No, no. No!” He shouted, turning to you and JJ.
“No, these pogues have ruined my daughter’s life.” He shouted in your face, you stood in front of JJ, trying your best to protect him.
“Didn’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Carrera.” You told him, turning to usher JJ out.
“Y’all have a good day.” JJ spoke, both of you heading to the door.
“Yeah.”
“What are you doing?” Kiara asked.
“Protecting my daughter.”
“Can we please-“
“Wait a second. Everybody says it, they are liars and thief’s!” Her dad shouted.
You and JJ stopped in your tracks.
“They’re just like their father! I mean, one of them is already drunk off their ass!”
The two words neither of you wanted to hear.
You looked at JJ, who held back tears at the words. You held your own back, throwing the rest of the can, looking at it pour onto the hardwood floor.
You grabbed the keys from the tray, you looked around again, shrugging before grabbing a jacket on the coat hanger, as well as some shoes.
“Wanna talk shit, you’re gonna get bit, right?” You mumbled to yourself, shrugging and following JJ down the steps.
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“Is she.. talking with Topper?” Pope asked, all of them turning to you and Topper at the bar.
“He didn’t want me to say anything, but he’s a fucking mess.” Topper said with a laugh, you laughed with him.
“Yeah, well, he was an asshole. So…” you said, taking the shot you ordered.
“Believe me, I know.” He told you,
“Hey, Jayj.”
“What?”
“I bet you Topper has a way to transport the cross.” Pope spoke.
“Actually, Popes right. He does have a rig.”
“No.” Sarah argued.
“Yes.”
“Yes, come on.”
“No, absolutely not.”
“What are we talking about?” You asked them, coming up behind them suddenly.
“Sarah, you already got him whipped anyway, right? So why don’t you just take one for the team?”
“What would John B say?” She said.
“I think John B will completely understand. Think about the circumstances, it’s about treasure.”
“We can handle John B. Just talk to him.”
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“Why do I feel like I’m gonna regret this?” Topper spoke, all of you happy when you saw her hug him.
You ended up falling asleep on the boat. Your eyes shut as they all came up with plans.
You can’t even escape him in your dreams. Because when you fell asleep, a fond memory of the two of you popped up in your mind.
“Shit, slow down.” He laughed, grabbing onto your hand as you ran down, pushing past people and making your way down straight to the floor.
“Can’t believe I let you drag me into this shit.” He said with a laugh when the band came on stage and cheers erupted.
He watched you while you paid close attention to the band. And when your guys song came on, he was told to sing with you, he hesitated but eventually did.
“Got the music in you, baby. Tell me why. You've been locked in here forever. And you just can't say goodbye. Your lips, my lips. Apocalypse.”
You both sung to each other, you staring at him with the most love and adoration he’s ever seen, and him staring at you with the most love anyone’s ever seen him have.
You both leaned in, but before your lips connected…
You woke up, quickly sitting up and groaning, wiping the sleep from your eyes.
“Jesus. Think I drunk too much earlier. I’m going crazy.” You told them, all of them turning to look at you now.
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Taglist
@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah
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fiery-emblems · 3 months
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Uuuuuh...it's HE
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rollercoasterwords · 1 year
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hey just wanted to comment on ur fanfiction that u wrote and edited and posted to let u know that ummmm u wrote the character with flaws?? sorry but did u realize that u gave the character flaws?? i don't really like this character because they have flaws did you mean to give ur main character flaws?? just wanted to let u know that character has flaws and i don't like that!!
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mirrortouchedsea · 3 months
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getting motivated to work on that kaokana fic finally and i have added like 1k this week.... so much progress for me i'm so happy
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i fear my love for art history will be corrupted by my italian renaissance class
#i've had this professor before and i love her lectures but. she's started assigning so. much. work#like if i didn't take this class this semester would be easy but now it's barely bearable#so i'm an auditory learner and that's great and all for lecture#but this professor keeps assigning 30-40 page readings regularly in the tiniest little font and we have to write a 3-5 page essay on it#the essay is easy but the reading. i just can't do it. i forget everything it's about by the next day#but we have to read at least one super-long chapter each week and on top of that i'm technically supposed to be going to art events#outside of class time. but i'm not an art major and i can't be on campus that late so i'm just going to take some Fs for that ig#and we have a group project that consists of a reading an essay a second essay a powerpoint another paper and we have to present#which that is happening this friday so yayyyyy (boooooo)#and then we have a really big paper/project to do that i'm probably supposed to be working on but i have not#ughhhhhhhhhh yes i'm complaining i'm allowed to do that it's good for me even. but still#i had the slightest feeling that i should've dropped out a couple weeks in and i should have listened this class is a nightmare#and i actually love art history. i love the subject so so much. and i memorize things that i'm told. i could literally repeat her lectures#but the fucking textbook makes everything awful#i feel bad for my partner for the group assignment bc she's so on top of shit and i'm behind#though i kinda lucked out w my partner. she's like in her 40s or 50s and she looks at me like i'm a lost puppy and that is great for#working together ngl. it means that she's sympathetic and thinks she has to take the lead#usually i take the lead w group projects bc i'm that kind of person but i'm busy so i will let her be in charge#ok done complaining if u see me on here yell at me about my project
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soulless-bex · 9 months
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i am very happy (and tired) to say that after months of not touching alice madness returns (because i fucking hate the executioner), i have now completed the queen of heart chapter and am now well on my way to finish the dollhouse one
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grassbreads · 1 year
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I finished the draft of my professor Xi Ping Tai Sui fic, and it is. over 8k.
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orcelito · 2 years
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I should make an actual outline for the coming chapters of discacc. Maybe if I'm more organized it can make writing easier
#speculation nation#discacc shit#my mental outline only process probably isnt going to keep working with me diverging from the plot of the game#i just kinda followed along with the game for a While. and then the past week in fic has been pretth easy to follow#bc it's just a week.#but we r gonna start actually moving through time more. it's been only a day or two per chapter. sometimes less.#but for next chapter i have in mind uhhh. well starting on monday. a few things throughout the thing#and then i think thursday is what i have in mind for the final scene. That one is very important.#in large part a lot of what we'll be getting is the New Normal. so there will b mundane scenes and time skips#but also peeks into the Training Process#and then we enter the next stuff lol. idk how long it'll take to get there.#maybe i should try to figure that out.#haha just a funny what if but what if i tried to plot out the remaining chapters. Loosely.#i still like the plan as i go thing bc im a very impulsive author lmao. if the characters r tugging me a different way from my plans#then yea i'll follow them. more organic that way.#but it'd be nice to have a better idea of Approximately how many more chapters there r gonna be#maybe it'd make it feel like less of an endless beast#bc someday discacc Will end. it will. im going to see this through.#on god it will end. but it's gonna b several hundred thousand words more lol#GOD i really am looking forward to smth in like a month in fic time#we r in end of september rn. and near the end of october is a very mean plan for goro lol#but when am i ever not mean to goro lmao. Rarely.#anyways hi im out of work and somehow despite the sleep deprivation i am consumed by thoughts of the discacc#i already have 41 largely thought out. but i need to officially decide on the scenes and order.#definitely gonna be less action than we've been getting. but theres smth really important coming up. So.
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popcorn-plots · 23 days
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I should be doing homework but instead...
(idek if this is popular anymore, I just need motivation tbh)
1 note and I'll go take a shower
25 notes and I'll get off Tumblr and finish my homework.
50 notes and I'll put away my laundry
100 notes and I'll fix my sleep schedule
150 notes and I'll start eating breakfast before school for the rest of the school year
200 notes and I'll tell my parents what I want for my birthday
250 notes and I'll start handing out my resume/applying to jobs [in progress]
300 notes and I'll start running 1 mile every week
350 notes and I'll finish/publish a wip [trans Stephen fic, the public has determined]
400 notes and I'll finish the next chapter of BtSA [finished, being beta-ed before posting]
450 notes and I'll spend 10 minutes a day working on my novel (;-;)
500 notes and I answer my emails
550 notes and I get a pixie cut (I've been wanting a shorter cut for months) [GETTING IT CUT ON WEDNESDAY]
600 notes and I'll fix my Doctor Strange cosplay (and post pictures) [somewhat fixed-- WIP stage lol]
(1000 notes and I'll come out as genderfluid to my therapist, despite how terrifying it is)
(1500 notes and I'll come out to my favorite teacher OR my ally YW leader)
(if, for some reason, and probably with divine intervention, we hit 20,000 notes..... I may consider coming out to my parents.)
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lovifie · 3 months
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Lift Me Off My Feet
Chapter 3: Poltergeist
Masterlist
Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12
3.8k Words
Warning/Notes: Ghost x Reader, a little of ass eating from Ghost, fingering, a bit mean Ghost, hair pulling, angst.
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“Hey, Birdie.”
“Hey, Ghost.”
The two of you look at each other, each expecting the other to make a move. But since he doesn't seem bothered by the silence, you break it.
“Here for work or pleasure?” You ask opening the door as he chuckles.
“Well, that's not my choice.” He answers looking at you. “Half and half, I suppose.”
“Why is that?” You ask as you enter your flat, leaving the door open for him to enter. But when you notice he is not moving you turn to him. “Are you gonna come in or do I need to invite you like a vampire?”
You see the smile on his eyes (mainly because that's the only thing you can see of his face), and he impulses himself off the wall as he walks closer to your door. 
“And what would your neighbours think? A girl like you letting a man like me inside her house?” He asks cocking his head.
“Well, actually, I don't know if you have heard. But just last night my neighbour was taken by the police because turns out he was a terrorist or something like that, I'm not sure. So I think I am out of the competition for worst neighbour of the year, so, yeah, please c’mon in.” 
You hear him chuckle behind your back as you walk into your room, and a little later you hear the door close. Maybe calling it a room is a big stretch, your whole flat is a room. A small hall that goes from the door to where your bed is, a door on the hall to your bathroom and another one to your kitchen. 
Having breakfast in bed sounds great, but having lunch and dinner sounds a bit sad. But that's the flat you could get, and honestly, thanks to your neighbour's hobbies, at least you know the rent is not going to go higher.
“You know, jumping the wall on your balcony was ridiculously easy, you should probably get a lock for that window.” He comments looking at your window as he enters your line of vision.
“Then I would lose my deposit.” You answer sitting down on your bed to take off your shoes. You take off your jacket next and hang it in your closet. “Are you hungry?”
“Hmm, depends on what's the offer.” He says leaning against the wall again. He follows you with his gaze as you walk to your kitchen and open the fridge with a face. He chuckles when you close the door back and look at him. “Takeout?”
“Takeout it is.” You answer taking your phone out. “What do you fancy, Ghost?” 
“You know? Most people freak out when I get inside their house, don't ask me what I want for dinner.” He says crossing his arms.
“Should I freak out?” You ask looking at him with an eyebrow raised as you lend him your phone with the delivery app open. “Order whatever you want, I'm no picky. I'm gonna take a shower, if the food gets here there is money behind that frame.”
You point out the only frame on your whole house and walk into the bathroom. You try to walk with confidence, but once inside the room, you let a sight escape your lips.
When you said yesterday you were going to push Price and Kyle away, you didn't mean it as in pulling the rest of the team closer. 
This is bad, is mean and honestly, you must be on some weird week of your cycle where you are producing more pheromones than usual because you were chronically single for years and now can't seem to catch a break. 
You open the tap to wait for the water to warm up as you undress. Just as you take your shirt off your pants you notice you didn't pick your pyjamas, so you walk back out.
You see Ghost seated on your bed, back leaning against the headboard, feet dangling off the bedside and scrolling through your phone.
“You can take off your shoes, you know.” You comment as you pick up the plaid pants and massive sweatshirt you wear to sleep as well as your underwear.
“You are a sneaky one, you know.” He responds looking at you almost offended he didn't hear you exit the bathroom.
You chuckle at him and walk back inside the bathroom. The shower helps you calm your nerves, the man is in your bed, and he hasn't made any moves yet; probably because he is not into you, you need to humble yourself a bit. 
At some point you hear the doorbell and your stomach grumbles almost as a reaction. You quickly finish your shower, put on your clothes and walk back to the room. 
“Chinese?” You ask when you see the containers as he stays looking around. “Let me get the table out.”
You say winking at him when he looks at you confused and he gets even more confused when you kneel before him. You look up at him, laughing internally at what he must be thinking and then you get your nice arm under the bed and pull the foldable table under it. You take it out and with a shake, you unfold it, take your seat on the bed in front of the table and tap the bed next to you. “Have a seat.”
He sits next to you, his thigh pressed against yours and he takes the container out of the bags opening them. 
After a little, you decide to finally talk about the elephant and the room and ask: “So, did you just drop by in hopes I would invite you to dinner or do you actually have a mission today, Ghost?”
“Oh, yeah, about that. I actually had two missions today.” He says pulling his mask up so he can eat. You try not to stare at the little skin showing, but you quickly notice the stubble on his jaw. Blonde. “First one, finding out we're the girl from the captain's office was. That one was easy, thankfully cause the captain was freaking out. And the second one, figuring out why she left. That one is still ongoing.”
“And if the captain was freaking out why is it you the one that's on my house?” You ask looking at your plate, curious enough to ask but not brave enough to look.
“Cause he was scared the reason you ran away, was because of him or something he did. So he didn't want to make it worse.” He answers simply, you can feel his eyes on you. He bends down a bit to be able to see your face and ask. “Is that why you ran?” You shake your head. “Then why? It looks like you had fun.” 
You turn to him with furrowed eyebrows and notice that he is looking at your neck, you remember the lovebites and quickly try to cover them with your hand. 
“It was just…” you sigh. “I know when I am no longer wanted, and rather than make it awkward by making him drive me back or having to say bye I just… got out before he woke up.” 
“Hm, I still think you should talk to him. I’m pretty sure he wouldn't agree with you with the ‘not being wanted’ thing” He says doing quotation marks with a hand and taking his phone out to send a message with the other.
“He doesn't even know my name. Neither do you.” You almost mumble. I’m just another one on the list, you think. “I think he will be just fine.”
He winces as if he was in pain and says. “You a tough one, birdie.” He cleans off the rest of his plate and stands up. “You don't know my name either and you don't see me throwing a hissy fit.”
“I'm not throwing a hissy fit.” You say rolling your eyes.
“Did you… Did you just roll your eyes at me, birdie?” He says moving the table and standing between your legs. “Now that” He says pointing at your face. “That's a brat move.”
“I'm not a brat!” You try to defend yourself standing up, but as quickly as you get on your feet, Ghost manhandles you to be laying down on your stomach. He sits on top of your ass immobilising your hips and grabs your arm putting them behind your back leaving you unable to move. “Ghost, what the fuck?!”
“Language.” He says and you feel a hard slap land on your ass cheek making you yelp. “Are you going to behave or should I teach you a lesson, birdie?”
“What? What are you talking about? Get off me.” You mumble squirming under him.
“No, I don't think I will until you learn.” He chuckles as he begins to grind against your ass. He bends down to talk to up to your ears. “You should be grateful, that I found you and not Price. Do you know what he would have done if he found out you got back, walking, alone, in the middle of the night?” Three more hard smacks land on the same cheek when he sits up. “And that alone, without talking about the fact you were missing a shirt. And didn't even say goodbye. Not a phone number, not a name, nothing.” He lands two more on the same cheek and an even harder one on the other cheek. Leaving your arse burning and you wouldn't be surprised if it bruised, but still, the most surprising thing about the situation is that you can feel your underwear sticking to your cunt.
You truly are learning about yourself these days. 
He grabs two handfuls of the meat of your arse, pushing your cheeks together as he grinds with a grunt. Then he lets go, you hear the unmistakable sound of his belt being undone and it sends anxiety up your column. He must sense it because he says: “Calm down, birdie. I'm not giving you my cock until you beg for it, and only if you deserve it. And trust me, you don't.” 
He takes his belt off, aligns your forearms and ties them together behind your back. 
“Are you going to talk to Price? You can still leave unscattered.” He asks, putting his hands beside your head and leaning in to be closer to your face.
You look back at him from over your shoulder, face still push against your mattress, and try to look offended by how easily he got you tied, immobilised and horny. “I don't know.”
He makes the sound of a buzzer, like in the contest when they answer wrong. “Not what I want to hear, birdie.”
His index finger hooks the waistband of your pyjama pants as well as your panties, right above your ass and he pulls them down slowly. You hear him whistle as he pulls them down, feeling the cold hair of the room against your skin and against your glistering cunt. “I think I'm going to start by the desert tonight.”
He lands a loud smack on your naked arse, and when you try to complain, the sound gets strangled into a moan when you feel his tongue against your puckering hole. Getting your ass eaten by the mysterious masked man was not on your plans for tonight, but you are not complaining. 
You moan against the mattress, biting the sheets to try and conceal the sounds leaving your mouth. Your consolation, is the fact that you can feel Ghost moan against your skin, the vibrations travelling up to your nape giving you goosebumps. 
He gets his hands under your hips pulling them up, leaving you completely exposed. Ass up, face down, arms tied and knees together by your pants. He pulls back for a second to admire his job, you look already ruined and it's been less than a couple of minutes. 
You await, expectant, his next move, every single thought that was on your mind about how you should push him away and stand your ground, is silenced by the feral voices of your mind scratching the walls with the need for his mouth to be back on you.
“Look at you, birdie. Such a good girl all of a sudden. You are not a brat, you just need that attitude fuck out of you, right, doll?” He asks massaging your waist with both hands. 
“Fuck you.” You mumble, and Ghost lands a slap right to your cunt making you scream and arch your back to find distance from him.
“Language, birdie!” He says chuckling, amused with the situation. “C’mon, play nice, love. Are you going to talk to Price?”
His finger starts to travel up and down your slit, collecting the juices flooding from your cunt. He teases your entrance without getting inside.
“No.” You declared, tired of being played with.
“No?” He ask genuinely surprised. “Oh, I think you will.” He lands another hard slap on your pussy, right on your clit, and position his fingers so that when you arch your back again, you fuck yourself right into his finger. A loud moan escaped your lips at the sudden intrusion.
He raises his hand up to your nape, grabs your hair in a handful and pulls lifting your head off the bed. “I wanna hear you sing, birdie.” His fingers begin to move inside and out of your cunt making you groan softly, raising in volume as his tongue finds her way back to your ass.
You can feel his drool drip down your ass to where his finger is fucking your pussy, only adding to the mess. He uses the knuckle of his middle fingers to brush against your clit making you mewl and causing him to chuckle again. He can feel you clenching around his finger, and he pulls back to ask again. “Are you going to talk to Price?”
“No, fuck, no I won't.” You scream back. And immediately you wish you didn't. Ghost draws his finger back, and remains holding your head but otherwise untouched.
“Wrong answer again, doll. C’mon, tell me what I want to hear and I'll give you what want to get. Are you going to talk to Price?” He asks. “No!” You answer, and the hardest slap to date lands on your ass making you cry out in pain. “Last chance, birdie. Are you going to talk to Price?” He asks again.
You bite your lip, an inner battle going inside your mind. The stubbornness in you taking the lead, not even being reasonable, just stubborn. Another hit snaps you out of it. “Shit! Fine! Whatever, I'll talk to him.” 
“Good girl, birdie.” He grumbles against your ear as his fingers start to piston in and out of your cunt, the sting of the stretch by the second finger completely buried under the waves of pleasure. He keeps whispering pure filth onto your ears, unable to hear him over the ring of your ears caused by the stimulus on your weak point.
You feel drool drip down your chin into the sheets, but you can only focus on the tight knot inside your body. It's unfair how easy it seems to be for these men to make you come undone with barely touching you, it makes you think about those mediocre ex-lovers who would put the blame on you for taking so long to cum. Fuck them, these men, Kyle, Price and Ghost had you coming in minutes without even taking off their clothes.
Ghost brushed his knuckles against your clit again, and you can only moan his name before you are gushing over his hand. He helps you ride out your orgasm and slowly draws back his fingers. 
He stands up chuckling softly, you hear him walk into the bathroom, you hear the faucet open and close and then hear him walk back.
You feel the cold wet towel between your legs and it makes you jump off the surprise. “Sorry, you spend all the warm water, doll.” He says still snickering. He drops the towel on the table, pulls your underwear and pants up, takes his belt back and lies next to you caressing your hair. “Solid, birdie?”
You shake your head. “Pretty sure I'm liquid now, Ghost” You say absent-mindedly and rub your eyes as you yawn. He may have fingered the attitude out of you, but he also fuck the energy out.
“I think it's time for me to leave, thank you for the dinner, birdie. And for the desert.” He says, smiling at you. He lands a peck on your temple and stands up. “Lock your door when I leave. And talk to Price.”
When he turns his back at you, you roll your eyes standing up as well to close the door. He turns on his heels and looks down on you. “And don't roll your eyes at me, birdie. Don't give me an attitude. Lock the door.” He says and lights a cigarette as he makes his way out of the building. 
While you're are cleaning everything, tidying your room, getting ready to get into your bed when you get a message from a contact that is just a skull emoji. 
💀: Lock the door, birdie.
That's what you get for trusting him with you phone to order food.
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“So she didn't say why?” Price asks Simon as he sits in the booth at the pub.
The both of them met there, a pub close to your house, Price too anxious to wait to get back to base to find out about Ghost’s discoveries.
“Negative.” Ghost answers setting the pints down. “She did make a great point, Captain.”
“Which is?” Price ask expecting
“We don't even know her name. Well, we do because of the background check we did to find her, but any of us have asked her.” Ghost responds. “And I thought you were the less hotheaded of the team, Captain.”
Ghost shakes his head as he laughs.
“Maybe try to talk to her when you are not saving her life? Maybe she will feel less overwhelmed then.” Ghost says taking his phone out to check his messages when he notices the vibrations. “Talking about the little bird.”
🐦: I told you I locked the dor
🐦: door*
💀: Awesome
🐦: ?
🐦: Go away, Ghost
💀: What are you talking about, birdie?
🐦: Stop messing with my door, I'm trying to sleep, you weirdo.
💀: It's not me.
💀: Are you sure it's your door and not your neighbours?
🐦: what neighbour?
💀: You and the terrorist are the only tenants on the building?
🐦: STOP MESSING WITH THE DOOR 
🐦: You are giving me the deposit money if you break it.
💀: I'm not at the door.
💀: Birdie?
💀: Don't ghost me now.
💀: Not on purpose.
💀: Birdie?
Ghost knit his brows at the lack of messages and look up to Price who seems lost in thought. “Maybe we need to save her again, Price. Your heart to heart talk will have to wait.”
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7 minutes.
That's all it takes for Ghost and Price to reach your building. Guns in hands as soon as they saw your apartment door busted open.
Price felt his heart sink at the possibility of your being hurt, because of him and his inability to treat you the way he should. Waking up alone didn't hurt as much, he hadn't slept that good in who knows how long, and it was all thanks to the warmth of your body pressed against his.
So now, that only now has he found this comfort, the thought of it being ripped away from him before he could mend his error, was truly heartbreaking.
The nice thing about your house being this small, is that there is not a corner that remains unchecked. And still, you are nowhere to be seen.
But your flat is a mess. The dishes are broken all over the hall and kitchen floor, the fridge is leaning against the wall obviously having been pushed, your clothes are thrown all over the place, your mattress is cut out it's inside thrown around, your clothes mixing with the rest of the mess on the floor, and your wall…
“You will pay for your actions, whore.”
Can be read on the wall, big letters occupying the whole wall.
Your TV is missing, only the metal skeleton that holds it to the wall it's on is place. And your window is busted, that's when he sees it, a chair. On your balcony, as if it was used by somebody to jump.
Price walks up to the balcony so fast, Ghost grabs his shirt unsure of the Captain's plan. “She probably jumped to the apartment next door, Captain. Let's check it.” The younger says to try and calm the Captain. He nods and they both make their way to the apartment next door.
It is just as destroyed as yours, but still, no sign of you. They make their way back to your apartment and Price sits down burying his face on his hands.
Ghost takes out his phone again and he calls you, anxious waiting for you to pick up. But you don't, instead, a silly music begins to sound from under your bed. Tranquillity floods their senses, only for it to be destroyed when the only thing they find is your phone under your bed.
“Fuckin’ hell, birdie. Where are you?” Ghost asks out loud.
THUMD
Both men whip their to the sound, and come face to face with your closet. Now, one of the things you like about your flat, is the closet. Built into the wall. With a ridiculously small space on top of it.
Both men look astonished, as a hand starts to crawl his way out of the false ceiling of the closet. You pop your head next, and when you confirm is the two men and not whoever entered your house just a couple of minutes ago, you start to bawl your eyes out.
When you heard the people force their way into your house, you automatically got yourself into the space on the false ceiling in your closet. You stayed there, contorted into yourself and used every ounce on yourself to not make a noise. 
You heard how they rampaged your little home, how they screamed, how they destroyed everything.
It was merely a couple of seconds, but it felt like hours. And when you heard them come back for a second time, you were certain they would hear the beat of your heart. Until you hear what sounded like the sweetest desert on the universe, Ghost's voice, asking where you were.
The sheer fear that just saved your life, now turned you into a sobbing mess of tears and drool as you melt onto Ghost's arms once he holds you.
You feel Price's hand rubbing your back as he kisses your shoulder shushing you.
“It's all right, darling. We are here now. You are safe. No one is going to get to you now.”
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Hii! 💗
Hoped you liked the new chapter, reader collecting these men like they are pokemon hehe wish that was me
Taglist: @pagesfalling @thevoidwriting @darkangel4121 @tf141glory @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @ghostlythots @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @xinyiline
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You Missed My Heart: PART 1
PART 1 LINK      |      PART 2 LINK      |   PART 3 LINK
Description: Miguel had died months ago. At least, my universe’s Miguel had died. Maybe I should have noticed when I could feel him touching me in my dreams, but grief is a hell of a thing. That is, until I woke up in a house that looked just like mine, but somehow different. 
Miguel had taken me from my universe and put me in one where he could relive his past, whether I liked it or not. 
Word Count: 11,107  Author’s Note: I wrote this instead of doing my college work, but I also didn’t proofread. Hopefully there aren’t too many typos! I’ll probably add more chapters in the following days/weeks Content Warning: smut, mild breeding kink, reader is being held against their will, Miguel being manipulative and an ass, bit of angst (I mean his wife and child are dead so yeah)
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          Minors DNI! Story is below the cut
The dream was hazy. Miguel sighed as he began to inch toward the edge of the mattress, drifting out of the shared embrace that we had slept in. Arms and legs untangled from one another as he drifted away from me.
I reached my hand outward, catching onto his hand before he could slip away for good. “I need to go to work.” He whispered, his voice husky and warm from sleep. But, despite his protest, he lay back down beside me. “Don’t go.” I said. My hands worked their way through the darkness, moving to curl around his broad shoulders. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to feel his strong heartbeat against my chest and listen to him breathe one more time. It didn’t matter that this wasn’t real. I didn’t care that this was now a soft and distorted memory; this was all I had left of him. I had convinced myself weeks ago that if I dreamed of him enough, it would almost be like he wasn’t gone. “I have to. Alchemax is unveiling a new project today and I have to be there.” He leaned in, brushing the tip of his nose against mine. His breath was warm, working as a perfect antagonist for the frigid air of our bedroom. “Please Miguel.” I begged. He cut me off by pressing his lips against mine. The kiss was languid and wet. Our bodies were still naked from the previous night’s activities as he rolled on top of me. “Miguel…” I whispered. “Please don’t leave me.” “I’m not going anywhere.” He said. His lips slipped off of mine as he lowered his face, moving so that his mouth could graze the shell of my ear. There, he whispered the one thing I thought I would never hear again. “I love you…”
Something brushed the side of my face, pulling me from my dream. I jerked upward, searching for what had caused it. But I couldn’t see through the pitch black of the bedroom. In the darkness, I was so sure that I could smell him. He had been dead for months, but his scent still lingered in the walls and all of the soft places in the house. It was to the point that I was terrified of moving or washing anything; if I did, that last piece of him would vanish forever.
Hot tears slid down my face.
I had been crying again. But that had become such a common occurrence that I couldn’t even be surprised. Tears slid down my neck, soaking into the collar of Miguel’s Alchemax t-shirt that had been worn thin. Crying had become an every night thing since the funeral. Maybe if I could understand what the hell even happened to him, then I could be okay. But there had been no information about any of it. I had been told there was an accident at work and that there was nothing that could have been done to save him. But the term accident meant so many different things.
I lifted my hand to my cheek to wipe away the next batch of tears. But, as my fingers brushed my skin, I couldn’t help but notice the distinct warmth on that side of my face.
Had someone been here?
Had the gentle brush been entirely in my head?
I swallowed hard as my eyes searched the darkness. “Miguel?” I asked. But there was no answer. The delusional part of me wanted to hear him stir inside of the bathroom that attached to the bedroom. I slid my hand outward, searching through the sheets that would always remain cold.
The black out curtains that covered my window blocked out any light from the city. The only light in the room was from the small machine that Miguel had set up in the corner. I was never sure what exactly it did, but it always gave off a pale blue glow.
I glanced around the room, seeing that the pictures were all still lying face down on the dresser and bookshelves.
Nothing was different. He was still dead, and I was still alone.
I swallowed hard as I reached for the bottle of sleeping pills that sat on the bedside table. I had gotten them after stepping off one of the curbs in Nueva York without looking. But, before anything could happen, a man had grabbed me, jerking me out of the way seconds before my body had the chance to collide with the car that was racing down the street. Maybe if I hadn’t been so exhausted, then I would have thought before I walked.
The pills were my only chance at getting any rest these days. I unscrewed the top of the bottle, dropped one of the white pills into my hand, and then replaced the white plastic lid. I discarded the bottle onto the nightstand and then popped the pill in my mouth.
I just needed to go to sleep. If I could sleep, then I could see him again.
I leaned back against the sheets, watching the walls of the hallway through the open door of our bedroom. If I hadn’t known better, I could have sworn to God that I saw a faint orange and pink glow dance against the walls before being consumed by darkness.
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No dreams came. My vision was dark, trapping me in a dreamless darkness. The pills always made my body heavy with sleep; it was almost impossible to open my eyes when I was like this. I didn’t see him in my dreams, but I could hear him. His voice was faint, speaking in delicate murmurs.
Fingers brushed against the skin of my face as he pushed several of my curls behind my ears. It was something he had always done, especially when I was sitting on the couch beside him. I had always wondered if he did it so that he could see my face or if it was just his way of getting my attention. But I guess that didn’t matter now.
I flinched at the reminder.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’m here.” Miguel whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead. I felt the bed move under me, sinking on the edge as he sat down. “I’m gonna keep you safe.”
“You need to drop this.” A soft female voice said. Her voice was no more than a whisper.
“I can’t do that.” Miguel’s voice was firm; he had already made up his mind.
“Miguel, you’re torturing her. Just leave her alone.” The delicate voice pleaded. Behind my eyelids, I saw pink and honey color light flash. “Give her time. Let her mourn then let her move on. Maybe she could be happy. She could get married and have a good life.”
“Lyla, I’m not sure if you know this, but telling me that my wife is going to fuck someone else and that that’s why I should let her go has the exact opposite effect.”
“Let her be happy.” The girl pleaded.
“She should have died. I’m saving her.”
“Miguel, please let her go. Please, I really-” I heard him click something, making the second voice fall silent.
Warm arms slipped under my legs as I was overwhelmed by the smell of Miguel.
My Miguel.
He smelled faintly of cologne, sweat, and something else. He pulled me into his arms, laying my body against his strong chest. I felt him grab a heavy arm and place it on his shoulder. Beneath my fingers, I felt a weird material cover his skin.
What the hell?
I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t force myself out of the dream. The medication weighed me down, anchoring me into this strange haze.
Miguel bounced me in his arms a couple of times. I groaned, feeling him stand up. One of the blankets caught on my foot, tugging on my tired body. Miguel gently tossed the blanket onto the bed, offering a few more gentle bounces to my body as he started to walk.
“You’re going to be so happy.” He whispered. Miguel pressed a second kiss against my skin.
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Blinding light came streaming through the window. I winced, lifting my hand to shield my eyes. I lay there for a moment before a thought occurred to me.
When was the last time I had been awakened by sunlight?
Miguel had always worked such random hours that we had hung thick blackout curtains over the window so that we had a chance at getting some sleep.
“What?” I pushed myself up in the bed, feeling my t-shirt drop down to cover the soft skin of my stomach. But the left side was caught on something, keeping that side of my abdomen exposed. I glanced down to see a thick bracelet that had been attached to my wrist. I pulled the shirt off of the bracelet, allowing it to fall and give me some sense of modesty as I glared at the contraption.
What the hell was this thing?
I glanced around, searching for some idea as to what was going on.
The only clue was a bright orange post-it note that had been pressed onto the bedside table. It was sitting between a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. Plucking the note off of the table, I quickly began to read it.
‘Please don’t be scared. I’ll be back soon. Take this for your head. It will take a bit to get used to all of this.’ It had been signed with a name that immediately made me shutter.
Miguel.
No. No. No.
Did I die?
Or did I finally go insane?
I pushed myself out of the bed, searching for some clue as to what the hell was going on. This was my bedroom. At least, it looked like it was. The closet was the same, the bookshelves were the same, even the weird off-blue shade that Miguel had picked for the walls was the exact same.
It was then that something caught my eye. All of the pictures were sitting upright. I could see our mutual smiles behind the glass. They were photos of us on dates, photos of us at the weird events that Alchemax held, and even some of the more intimate photos we had taken of us in bed with our bodies barely covered by the thin ocean of sheets.
I stepped forward, moving toward the closet. I jerked one of Miguel’s button-ups off of the hanger and inspected it. The spot where he had spilled wine on the cuff was missing. Instead, the material was bleach white.
This was wrong. This was all wrong.
Everything was familiar, but still foreign somehow. There were sheets that were the same color but didn’t have soft faded patches that had been acquired from stains during love making. There were clothes that I remembered wearing, but they didn’t have the small tears or stains in them. Everything was put together from memory, but it wasn’t my memory.
If I didn’t look too closely at it, it could almost be perfect.
Slowly, I stepped forward. As I moved toward the dresser, I stopped. In my home, my real home, there was a creak in the floorboard. Miguel had spent an entire weekend trying to fix it after we had moved in, but it was all in vain.
Maybe I was just paranoid. That was the only solution.
I leaned backward, then forward again in an attempt to get the floor to creak.
A deafening silence filled the room.
I reached down and pulled at the bracelet. It was heavy on my arm. I slipped my fingers under the band, attempting to pry it off of me. But it was no use. It had been secured at the base, making it impossible to remove.
Then, I did the only thing I could think of.
I ran.
I bolted from the bedroom, moving down the hallway. When I reached the stairs, I took them two by two. Frankly, I was amazed that I didn’t slip and break my neck. But fear is a hell of a motivator. I sprinted through the living room, searching for the front door of our house. I threw open the front door and rushed outside, ignoring the fact that I wore only a thin t-shirt and underwear.
I needed to get the hell out of there; I didn’t care about being modest at this point.
It was Nueva York; the buildings were the same, so was the noise. Sounds of construction, traffic, children playing, and music blasting filled the air. But, I couldn’t help but notice the main thing that was missing: no people or vehicles.
“Hello?” I called.
But I was all alone.
“Hello?” I screamed.
Something grabbed my hand, jerking me backwards. I stumbled but was caught before I could collide with the pavement. Strong arms curled around my waist and hauled me upward. I flailed my arms and kicked out my legs in an attempt to get free, but it was no use. The figure turned around and began to carry me back to the house as if I was nothing more than a doll. “You weren’t supposed to leave the house.”
I knew that voice. It was the one that haunted my dreams and filled my every ‘what-if.’
Miguel.
“What the fuck?” I screamed.
“Stop trying to fight me.” His voice was flat. I glanced behind me to look at him. He wasn’t my Miguel. His eyes flickered somewhere between chocolate brown and blood red. The muscles on his shoulders were more defined and the line between his eyebrows was deeper. But maybe that was because of the dark scowl that he wore as he carried me up the small steps of the brownstone.
When he stepped inside of the house, he threw me onto the hardwood floor. As my head hit the floor, he reached behind him and flipped the deadbolt.
That was to make sure that I didn’t try and escape again.
Miguel wasn’t dressed how I was used to. My Miguel always wore some kind of standard, normal clothes. Nicer clothes for work, soft pants, and sweatshirts at home. But this man, the imposter, wore a red and blue costume that stretched over his hard muscles and accentuated his domineering frame.
“You were supposed to wait. I said I would be back soon.”
“Who the hell are you?” I twisted my body so that I was sitting up on the hardwood floor. I pulled my legs close to my body, attempting to hide my thin underwear from him.
“You’re joking right?” He asked. He stood over me, inspecting me with a look of both confusion and disappointment.
“No, I’m not. And what the hell did you put on my arm?” I shook my wrist, trying to loosen the device.
“Stop trying to take it off. If you do, you’ll die. Unless that’s what you’re hoping for.” He said as he studied me. I froze.
“What?”
“It keeps you alive in this universe. You’re not from here; you don’t belong here, so if you take that off, you’ll glitch until you die.”
I glanced around the room, taking in all of the little imperfections. The room was wrong, reminding me that I was in some kind of strange prison.
“What is all of this?” I asked. Miguel stared at me at if the answer was so obvious.
“It’s our home.”
“No… no, it isn’t.” I said. “What did you do to me?” I pushed myself off of the floor. As I did, I pulled at the bottom of the t-shirt. The man stared at me, his eyes dancing between the terrified look on my face at the pale skin of my naked legs. As his eyes drank me in, I could see them turning to a deeper shade of red.
“Who are you?” I asked. He let out a dark chuckle. As he did, I couldn’t help but notice that sharp white fangs that protruded from his mouth.
“Sweetheart…”
“Don’t call me that.” I said. He rolled his eyes.
“Look, I’ve been very sweet to you. But now you’re starting to piss me off.” His voice was sharper this time. He moved toward me and I stepped back.
“Why do you look like him?” I asked. He knew exactly what I meant.
“Because I am him… in a way.”
“I don’t understand.” I said. He once again tried to fill the distance between the two of us. I stepped backward, feeling my back hit the side of the couch. “You died… he died.”
“In your universe, yes. Please call me Miguel. I know this may be new to you, but I am your husband, just a different version of him. I mean you no harm.” The dull ache from being thrown on the floor said differently. “I did all of this because I love you.”
“You don’t know me.” I said. I slid my hands against the side of the couch in an attempt to find something to cling to. He let out a dry laugh.
“That’s where you’re wrong. I know you in every single universe. I’ve known more versions of you than you can imagine. Versions where you live, versions where you die. So, in a way, I know you better than you even know yourself.”
“If you knew me so well, then you would know Miguel and I never married.”
“Purely semantics. Besides, that’s something that I fully intend on correcting.”
“You’re insane.” I said.
“Don’t fucking call me that. You have no idea how hard I worked to fix everything for you; how hard I worked to make sure that everything would be perfect.”
“Miguel, where the fuck am I?” I demanded. “And I don’t want you to keep saying I’m home. This isn’t my home. Where am I?”
“You could be a little bit more grateful. You should have died.” He said. “You weren’t supposed to be pulled out of the way of a car and you were.”
Anger flashed through me. Just looking at him filled me with a mixture of rage and sadness that mixed together in a sludge that did nothing but make me want scream at him. “I’m supposed to be dead? You’re dead! I went to your funeral! There’s a goddamn sign in the Alchemax lobby for you.” My throat burned and my eyes stung with tears. “Was that all some kind of sick lie?”
“No, your Miguel did die.” His voice was matter of fact- almost cold. It was as if he had said this all a million times before. Hell, for all I knew, he had. Maybe this was some kind of sick game he liked to play. “But, that’s no matter. I’m here now. I made a little pocket universe for you; where you can live and where you being here won’t affect anything. You can stay here with me, and things will be exactly as they should be.” I glanced at the locked door behind him. “You being here won’t affect any other universe and it keeps you out of your own, making sure that all of the canon events happen exactly as they should. The canon is safe and you get to live. Two birds, one stone.” He was so proud of himself.
“Do I have a choice in staying with you?”
His face twitched at my question. “I’ve watched you cry for him at night. I’ve heard you scream and beg for him to come back. You wear his clothes and listen to his music and talk to yourself like he’s still there. For God’s sake, I’ve watched you touch yourself to pictures of him. I just assumed you would have had a warmer reception to me.”
“You had no right to spy on me.” I winced, remembering the feeling of my face being touched in my sleep. He had been there, watching me as I mourned. Besides, there was something in the way he emphases a warmer reception. He was hoping I would immediately adore him and drag him into the bedroom to screw until I couldn’t walk straight. He wanted us to immediately slip into some weird little habit where I pretended to be his loving wife. He said I died in other universes. Was I his replacement, just as he hoped to be mine?
Miguel sucked on his teeth before he stepped forward.
Without thinking, I twisted my body around and bolted toward the kitchen. I had no idea where I was even going; I just wanted to be away from him.
I got about five steps away before he reached outward and grabbed me. This time, his hold was harder. His arms crushed themselves against my body as he lifted me upward and began to carry me toward the stairs. This time, he was holding me so tight that I was sure he was going to break my ribs.
“You’re hurting me.” I gasped.
“Then stop trying to leave me.” He said. “You’re not going to get far and you’re just going to end up hurting yourself.”
He carried me up the stairs, his eyes dark red in the dim light. He carried me to the bedroom at the end of the hall. When he reached the room, he looked down at me.
“Say you love me.” It was a second chance. I paused for a moment, trying to find a way to fake sincerity.
He wasn’t my Miguel. He wasn’t my angel who I curled up with on the couch or who insisted on making me listen to old music that nobody but him would ever like. This man didn’t have that gentleness about him; he wasn’t sweet or loving.
“I love you.” I tried. I knew I sounded like I was faking it.
“At least I know you’re a shitty actress.” He muttered. He dropped me on the floor of the bedroom and then stepped outside before I had a chance to make another getaway. He slammed the door shut.
“Miguel, please let me out.”
“Ah, now you want to be nice to me.” He mocked.
“You kidnapped me. I’m sorry if I’m not the person you were hoping for. If you want someone better, just get a different me from some other place. I’m sure the universe is just littered with them.”
“I saved you. Your universe would have collapsed if it weren’t for me. I offered you the chance to live in a different place, where none of that can ever hurt you and you hate me for it. You want to be pissed? Be my guest. But in time, you’ll love me. I know you will. You always do.”
“Yeah, Miguel, it doesn’t feel like you’re giving me a choice in the matter.” I said. “Why can’t you just find another girl? Anyone else?”
“It has to be you. Because it always is, no matter what. Every time, we end up together so I can’t just grab some random person. Besides, there aren’t too many of you who aren’t already with some version of me. Stealing wives from other versions of me just sounds wrong.”
Yeah, that would be the wrong part. Not the whole kidnapping thing. He keeps flipping between lunatic and romantic who is waxing poetic about our deep love. Maybe I would have been charmed if I had actually known this man. Plus, there was something weird about the way he said it. Had he considered it? How did he find widows versus wives?
“Miguel, sweetheart, how about you let me out of here and then we can find some kind of arrangement that we both like?”
He rolled his eyes as he locked the door from the outside. “When you decide to be the version of you that I know and love, then we can talk.”
Bastard.
I kicked the door, but I knew it was useless. He was already walking away from the door. In the distance, I heard his voice as he began to speak to someone else.
“Lyla, I’m a little busy right now.”
“It’s urgent.” She said.
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It was hours before he came back. I didn’t hear him when he was stepping toward the door. I only heard him when he unlocked the door and let out a low sigh.
“I brought you dinner. It’s in the kitchen. I expect you to eat dinner with me tonight.” He said.
“Thank you.” I squeaked out. I hadn’t eaten since the night before. I was starving. Besides, if this was his idea at a peace offering, who was I to reject. He obviously didn’t want to return me to my real home. Maybe I should just get used to this. “I’ll be down in a minute. I want to clean up a little bit.” I said.
“I’ll get everything ready.” He said. With that, I heard him step away from the door of the bedroom. At least he was receptive to me needing a moment, rather than dragging me downstairs to eat right now.
I sighed to myself as I pushed myself off of the bed. I couldn’t just wear a t-shirt and underwear. I already looked like an absolute mess. My face was swollen from crying and my curls had turned into a frizzy mess from being manhandled so many times in the last twenty-four hours.
My best bet was a shower to calm me down and hopefully take away some of the puffy redness around my eyes and nose. I didn’t want him to see that I had sobbed when I was alone; he may have carted me around in my underwear, but I still had my dignity.
There was a small bathroom attached to the room. It was one that I was familiar with. It was exactly like the one at my house; there weren’t any superficial tweaks that he had made. At least, none that I could see upon first inspection.
I quickly showered, scrubbing my body gently as I went. As I slid a loofah along the sides of my body, I winced. Dark bruises were starting to blossom across my ribs from where he had squeezed as he carried me.
Damn it, that hurt!
I winced as I washed my body, careful not to aggravate any new sore spots that I had gotten. I then washed my hair, making sure that it was nice and clean.
Stepping out of the tub, I realized that I hadn’t grabbed a towel. I was sure that he would put them where I always did. After all, that was really the only place for them in the bathroom. I quickly ducked down and pulled open the door to the bathroom cabinet. The towels had been stacked on one side, random trinkets and things he had brought for me rested on the other. I snatched a towel from the pile as I eyed the objects.
They were the usual fair, mixed in with a few oddballs. Tampons, deodorant, razors, women’s shaving cream, a perfume that I wore pretty often, a couple of bottles of hand and body lotion, a toothbrush, toothpaste, an eyelash curler, a new tube of mascara, hair gel, and a dozen or so other hair things. I sighed and quickly added several of the things to the counter. I needed to brush my teeth and do my hair. As I stacked those things on the counter, I couldn’t help but notice that there were more things resting against the very back of the shelf. Against the wall sat two small pink boxes that were still in their clear wrapping from the drugstore. I frowned as I pulled them forward, moving them closer so that I could see them. The first was a new box of pregnancy tests. I shook the box; sure enough, it actually contained what it said it did. Part of me expected the box to be a decoy and to either be empty or filled with something outwardly sinister, like a camera. Why did he buy me pregnancy tests? I flipped the second box over and was greeted by a bulk box of ovulation test strips, meant to check for when I was ovulating. I winced equally at both of the packages. I quickly shoved them back into the cabinet and closed the door.
Part of me wanted to know why those were what he chose to buy me; the other part was scared to know the answer.
I quickly stood up and began to dry off. It was a short time between when I finished showering and when I stepped out into the bedroom, my hair styled with my curls down, my teeth brushed, and my skin dried of any excess water.
Stepping to the closet, I noticed that all of the dresses in the closet were too formal. Most of the clothes that I typically wore were missing. No t-shirts, jeans, or even standard pajamas. Damn it, Miguel. I quickly walked over to the dresser and opened the bottom drawer.
Based on what was there, my best bet was the baby pink nightie that lay on the top of the pile of clothes. It was obviously new; a tag was still attached to the spaghetti strap and frankly, I had never seen it before, so I figured that it was something he had picked out himself.
I pulled the dress on, wincing when it stopped several inches above my knees. I pulled on a pair of underwear and then snagged a grey cardigan from the closet in an attempt to have a chance at being warm.
What I was wearing was closer to lingerie than actual clothing, but that didn’t seem to matter at this point. He had dragged me around twice in my underwear, on top of the fact that he said he had watched me touch myself to him. My face burned at that thought.
Besides, if he was right and we were always together, then none of this would be new to him. But maybe it would make him be nicer to me if he thought I was being nicer to him.
I stepped through the hallway, careful not to lose my footing in the dim light. As I went, I couldn’t help but notice one of the more glaring differences between my universe and this was. The door to the room that rested next to the bedroom wasn’t stained with its dark russet shade. He had painted this door yellow. That was clearly a recent change; the air still smelled heavily of paint. But why the hell had he painted it in the first place? Maybe he was used to it being a different color and was perfecting it to fit his little fantasy.
I made my way downstairs. He was sitting in the small breakfast nook that rested in the kitchen. He had set out the white plates and arranged the food so that I had easy access to everything. As I rounded the corner, he glanced upward. Something stirred in his dark eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Miguel was sitting at the table, pushing around an eggroll with a plastic fork. He had changed out of his standard red and blue spider suit into an old sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants.
Lucky bastard.
He looked tired. He had a dark stain of blood on his left cheek and I was sure that it wasn’t his. I didn’t want to think about whether or not the owner of that blood was still alive, because I knew there was a good chance they weren’t. I watched him for a moment before I stepped away from the table. He frowned, watching me closely. I was sure he was watching to verify that I didn’t make another run for it. I quickly pulled a washcloth out of one of the lower cabinets by the sink and then turned on the faucet. Once the water ran warm, I wet the rag, wrung it out so that it wasn’t dripping, and then I turned off the water.
I stepped back into the small dining area. “Miguel.” I said in an attempt to get his attention. His tired eyes drifted up to meet mine. The eyes that were once a burning red were now a warm brown. They were almost the shade of coffee. He watched me with such an intensity that it made my face turn a dark maroon. I was sure that he noticed, but he didn’t remark on it.
I leaned down slightly, moving so that my standing height could line up with his sitting size. God, he was so damn tall. “Miguel, here. You have blood on your face.” He reached up to take the cloth but was surprised when I gently pressed the warm material to his face. “Just hold still for a second.” I whispered. For a moment, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had changed out of his suit for comfort or if it was just as coated in blood as his face was. The idea made me shudder internally.
I gently wiped away the dried blood, folding the cloth as I went so that I didn’t rub old blood against his face. When I reached the hollow of his cheek, I slipped one hand under his strong jaw and had him tilt his face to the side in an attempt to give me a better angle. He closed his eyes, giving in to the gentle touch.
He was touch starved. I could tell by the way his breathing slowed and the hairs on his arm stood on end. He wasn’t used to being touched; not anymore. Not in any way that offered any kind of tenderness.
“There you go. All clean.” I said. He opened his eyes and he nodded. His eyes then dipped downward toward my dress.
“Nice outfit.”
“It would appear that most of my actual clothing is gone. So, I have plenty of clothing for the bustling city life outside and I have plenty of lingerie, but everything else is a bit sparse.”
A smile pulled at his lips with my comment. Then, he nodded. “I’ll bring you your clothes from your home universe.”
“Thank you.” I said. Miguel leaned forward and grabbed a container of orange chicken.
He had ordered us Chinese food. It was something that I couldn’t help but note was the same as we had had on our first date. I glanced at the label and confirmed that it was the same restaurant and everything. We had eaten there the night we had first met. We had dipped out of a party at Alchemax early. I hadn’t wanted to be there, but my father had worked there for so many years that it almost felt like an obligation. When I had turned to leave too fast, I knocked wine all over Miguel, but he hadn’t seemed to mind.
“Are you okay?” This Miguel asked. I quickly nodded as I was pulled from the distant memory.
“I am. Thank you for dinner.” I pushed a small amount of food onto my plate and then returned the container to the center of the table.
“You need to eat; really eat.” He said. His brown eyes danced over my face as he searched for something in my gaze. He was hoping to find some kind of love there; a familiarity or affection that I could offer him.
“I feel sick.”
“That’s just because you aren’t used to being in a different universe. Consider it like jet lag. You’ll get used to it in a few days.” He noticed when I didn’t move to eat. I stared into space, feeling my previous convictions about being sweet to him begin to slip away. “I could always make you eat.” He said.
“You wouldn’t do that.” I muttered. He let out a low sigh and then returned to his food. He wasn’t going to argue with me. Or maybe I was right; maybe there were some things he wouldn’t be willing to do to me. But he had walked in sporting horror-movie levels of blood on his skin. So, who knows?
“Is there anything that’s bothering you?” He asked. “You can always ask me.”
“Are you going to lock me up in my room again if you don’t like the question?” I asked. He didn’t respond.
Tread lightly, I guess.
“Why do you look different than my Miguel?”
“I’m Spiderman. Your Miguel wasn’t. He was close, but he didn’t quite get there before…” His voice faded off. He was trying to be sensitive to me, in his own fucked up way. Or maybe his own narcissism wouldn’t allow him to talk about his failures, even in a different universe.
“Do all Spidermen look like you?” I asked.
“Are they all so devastatingly handsome? Afraid not, sweetheart. They don’t usually look the same. Hell, they can look like anything. I found one that’s literally a cartoon pig. But appearances aside, they can mostly do the same things: climb walls, shoot webs, the whole lot.”
“Ah.” I said. “Do they all have the…” I tapped my finger to my teeth, motioning for the fangs that protruded anytime he spoke. He shrugged.
“That seems to be a thing entirely unique to me.”
Did I sense a bit of insecurity there?
He furrowed his brow as he turned his attention to the dinner plate. Damn it, now I felt bad.
Why the hell did I feel bad for hurting his feelings? He kidnapped me and had dragged me around like a rag doll. But I couldn’t ignore the guilt that started to brew inside of me.
I sighed as I moved closer to him. Even if he was my captor, I couldn’t help but see him as the man who I still loved. Even if that ended at the physical resemblance. I slid to the edge of my chair and reached my arm out for his face. My fingers slid against the rough stubble of his jaw, tracing the side of his face for a moment. He leaned his head to the side, moving into my touch.
“I’m sorry.” I whispered. He nodded, lifting a hand upward. He laid his fingers on top of mine, holding my hand there against his skin. God, he was burning up. Did he always feel like this? Maybe he was actually sick. My Miguel never ran this warm. Or maybe it was just a side-effect of the spider bite. I didn’t understand any of that well enough to question it and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask about it.
Suddenly, something clattered to the ground in the kitchen, making me jump. I pulled my hand back from his face, feeling the reality of the situation settle in. I slid my hand back into my lap, watching as his eyes lingered on for entirely too long. His brown eyes swam with a deep want. He wanted me to keep touching him.
Maybe sleeping with him would knock him out of this lovesick spell. Or maybe it would only make it worse. He stared at me, moony eyed and desperate. He was Miguel, even if he wasn’t my version of him. Maybe he could genuinely love me, even if only in his own fucked up way.
“If you loved him so deeply, do you think you could ever love me the same way?” He asked.
“Miguel…” I said. His face twitched slightly. I couldn’t say no; maybe I could, eventually. Or maybe he would become crueler, and I would hate him every second of my life. I didn’t know what to tell him. He leaned back in his chair, his face twisting in an attempt to conceal a deep pain.
Change the conversation quick. Change it before the night could descend in chaos with either us screaming at one another or him locking me in the room again. Or maybe he would just send me back to my own universe to die. After all, if he couldn’t get what he wanted from me, then there was no use in keeping me here.
He made a low noise and then returned to eating, never saying anything about how I had dismissed him.
“Why did you paint the door in the hallway?” I asked. He paused, trying to think up an answer. Then, he swallowed his dinner and shook his head.
“Just decided that it looked better that way.”
“But why? What was wrong with the original color?”
“Does it really bother you that much that I changed one thing?” He asked. His voice had an edge to it now. I clearly was not supposed to ask about the door. But why? It was just a damn door.
“No, but it’s weird that that is the one thing you decided to change. I figured that there was probably a reason.” He rolled his eyes as he took another big bite of food.
“Can’t you just be happy? Most people would overjoyed if they had the opportunity that you do.”
“Yes, I’m quite sure that most people would just love to be stolen from their bed by their boyfriend’s psycho twin. Frankly, that’s every woman’s dream.” My voice was dripping with so much sarcasm that he rolled his eyes. “How long are you planning on keeping this up? This isn’t the Truman Show. You can’t just keep me locked up here for the rest of my life so that you can get your kicks spying on me. And I’m not going to act out some fifties sitcom for you.”
“You don’t have to. I just want you to be… you. Or, as close to it as possible.” He said. As close to me as possible… the words rattled around in my head for a moment.
“You want me to be her.” His face twitched. “I lost him and you lost someone who looks exactly like me.”
Dear God, that was exactly it. All of my suspicions were correct. I was supposed to play house with him, while pretending to be a very specific version of myself that he had once loved. I had to be the perfect version of his wife; the one who doted on and loved him, or else this was all for nothing.
“Have you ever read The Great Gatsby?” I asked. He stared at me, his gaze littered with something.
“Tread lightly, sweetheart.”
“The book is about a man who tries to relive his past. He is so sure that repeating everything and making little adjustments will fix his world.” I swallowed hard, trying to make sure he understood what I was saying. I wasn’t his toy; I wasn’t meant to be wound up to perform for him. “Miguel, you can’t fix things by redoing them. People die. You have to let them go. If your wife died, you need to let her go.”
“I don’t hear you saying that about him.” He sneered.
“That’s because I didn’t kidnap you. I was willing to let you… to let him go.” All of the terms were confusing. This man looked like my Miguel, but he wasn’t. He was a different version of him, which I guess could also make him him, just a different kind. God, I was confusing myself.
“That’s bullshit. I know you want him back. I can see it in your eyes. I can see it in the way you look at me.”
“I think what you’re seeing is a mixture of fear and your own reflection.”
“You love me.” He said.
“I don’t know you, Miguel. I don’t know who you are. I know who you look like, but that doesn’t really help your situation.” I paused for a long moment. “How did she die?” I asked. He shook his head.
“That’s none of your fucking business.” He snapped. I flinched at his words.
“I have the right to know how she died.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t even know how your own husband died and you think you have the right to pry into my life.” With that, he pushed himself up from the table.
He tossed the plate into the sink and it shattered against the metal of the basin. I heard him swear in Spanish under his breath. He was pissed but he hadn’t meant to do that. Maybe that was just an every day occurrence with spider strength.
He began to head to the archway that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house. As he stepped, I heard him swearing under his breath. I also heard my name several times.
“Miguel, where are you going?” I asked.
“You hate me so much, maybe it would be better if I wasn’t around.”
“Miguel, where are you going?” I repeated. He muttered more words under his breath. I watched as he pushed several buttons on the sides of his wrist device. He flipped a top piece on the metal bracelet.
“Lyla-“ he started.
“What are you doing?” I asked. I pushed myself up from the table, following him as he left the kitchen. He didn’t reply. I rounded the corner, following as he stepped into the living room. Upon entering, I was nearly blinded by a massive orange and pink hole that swirled and twisted in the center of the room. With every step he took, he drifted closer to it.
So, that was how he managed to leave and then come back. If what he wore on his wrist was capable of doing it, I wondered if mine was, too. No, surely not. The intent was to keep me here; giving me an opportunity to escape would defeat the entire purpose. He said that if I took it off, I would die. I had no choice but to believe him on that front.
“Miguel.” Still no answer. “Where are you going?” He stepped toward the portal without a sound.
“Miguel, where the hell are you going?” I repeated.
He rolled his eyes as he glanced down at the device on his wrist.
“If you leave, what the hell am I supposed to do? There aren’t any people outside. I’m going to have to guess that all of the buildings are empty. Are you coming back? Am I going to starve to death? What if I get hurt? What if I fall down the stairs and die? When the hell are you coming back? How am I supposed to contact you?” The words fell out of my mouth so fast that I didn’t have the chance to consider if these were stupid questions.
“That’s what you’re worried about?” He scoffed. But he didn’t offer me any kind of actual answer.  
“Miguel, you said you were my husband. You can’t just abandon me.” He flinched, but he still did not turn around. “Please…” I begged. If he left, I was stranded. At least with him here, I was guaranteed human contact and sustenance.
“Miguel, I need you.” I said. As the words left my mouth, I did the only thing I could think of to get his attention. I slid my hand up to the cardigan and quickly slipped it off of my shoulders. He didn’t seem to notice or care when it dropped to the ground below me. I then reached upward and grabbed onto the thin spaghetti straps of the pink nightgown. Without hesitation, I pulled them over either shoulder, allowing the gown to slide entirely off my body and pool onto the floor at my feet.
“Miguel.” I repeated. This time, my voice was no louder than a whisper. That was enough to get his attention. Or maybe he had heard the dress gather on the floor at my feet. I swallowed hard, feeling the cold bite at my bare skin. I was standing almost naked in the middle of the living room, wearing only a thin pair of underwear that offered very little coverage.
Miguel glanced backward. His eyes caught expanse of my bare skin and I swore I saw him smile.
“Don’t leave.” I said. I lifted my hands and crossed my arms. It was a force of habit. I felt so exposed like this. Though, I quickly lowered my hands, knowing that getting his attention was my best chance at him staying.
He turned around to face me. “Please say something, Miguel.” I whispered. The longer I went without a reaction, the more I started to feel like an idiot for this. Maybe I had just made myself look stupid in front of him. Or, better yet, maybe this was something his wife wouldn’t have done; maybe this would make him send me back home to die.
He slunk forward, a predator approaching prey. I saw the portal swirl into a smaller and smaller hole in the universe. Then, it closed, leaving us alone in the dim light of the living room.
Miguel moved so that he was only a few inches in front of me. The material of his shirt grazed my naked skin, making me wince. The shirt was too rough against my goosebump littered flesh. He stared down at me. As he did, his eyes turned from warm brown to a deep red again.
His palm drifted up to cup my cheek. His skin burned to the touch. I swallowed hard, feeling his fingers stroke the side of my face. It was almost as if he was petting me; like I was a toy for him to play with. He leaned down. His lips grazed the shell of my ear as he whispered, “Let me know if I hurt you.”
“Huh?” He pressed his mouth against mine, hard. His lips were warm as he began to work them, moving them so that they forced my mouth open. I moaned, overwhelmed by it all. As his lips slid against mine, I was sure that I would be bruised tomorrow.
A fang brushed my bottom lip, making me gasp. “Gentle, Miguel.” I whispered.
“Sorry.” His warm breath covered my face. He smelled intoxicating. He straightened his stance, moving away from me. When he pulled away, I let out an audible whimper.
God, please tell me I didn’t genuinely want him. I swallowed hard, feeling myself getting slick between my thighs. I was sure that if he looked, he would see a spot forming in my underwear.
I wanted to hold him. I tried to grab his shoulders, but our heights were too off. He was too tall for me to grab hold of. I pushed myself onto my tippy toes, but even that wasn’t enough. I was still too short for him. Miguel noticed this and leaned downward, allowing me to curl my arms around his strong shoulders.
“That’s my girl.” He slipped his hands down and curled his fingers around my bare thighs. He jerked my body upward. I curled my legs around his hips. He was already getting hard, causing his pajama bottoms to strain.
Miguel stepped forward, carrying me up the stairs. I knew where we were going: the bedroom. I pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek. Even in the dark, I could tell he smiled.
He was getting exactly what he had wanted. But I couldn’t bring myself to make it all stop. I wanted him. I had craved him for so long and here he was. He wasn’t my Miguel, but maybe he wouldn’t die. He was stronger than my Miguel. Maybe that would allow him to stick around.
He twisted the door handle, leaving deep dents in the shape of his fingers in the cold metal. He was trying his hardest to be gentle with me, but I knew it was a battle he would most likely lose.
He tossed me on the bed, throwing me just a tad too hard. I landed on the opposite side of the mattress, groaning as my head almost collided with the wooden headboard. “Miguel.”
“I know, I know.” He teased. He flipped his hand over, shooting a fine web that caught my ankle. “Come here, sweetheart.” He rolled the webbing around his fingers, pulling it tight. I gasped, feeling my body sliding across the sheets. He dragged me down to the edge of the bed.
“Miguel!” I squealed. He smirked as he pressed his knees into the bed, pulling me so that I was only a few inches away from him. He pulled the web off my skin, making sure that it didn’t hurt me.
“Do you do that a lot?” I asked.
“As often as you, sweetheart. Next time, I can web you to the headboard.” My face flashed bright red. He chuckled.
Miguel reached down and grabbed the bottom of his sweatshirt. He hauled it upward, pulling it over his head before discarding it on the floor. Taut muscles danced under his skin. Every inch of him was bound in hard muscle, covered in perfect skin.
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against my knee. His fingers wandered up my thighs, feeling my bare skin. He pushed his other hand into the mattress.
“Miguel, please.”
“Please what?” He asked. I took his free hand in mine and guided it up to my chest. He moaned, offering a soft squeeze.
Miquel scrambled up to my chest. He caught my nipple in his mouth and moaned, licking the sensitive skin as he sucked. His fingers kneaded my other breast, stopping every once in a while to offer the hard peak a gentle pinch.
I brushed my fingers through his dark hair. He smiled against my skin, releasing my nipple from his mouth. “What?” I asked.
“Let me know if I’m too rough with you.” With that he slinked down to the warm skin of my thighs. He traced his lips across the bare skin. As he went, he opened his lips to gently suck and kiss the bare flesh. Every so often I would feel a burst of pain that lasted no longer than a second. He mumbled something against my skin. I pushed myself up onto my elbows, moving so that I could see what he was doing.
Another sharp pain shot through my left thigh as he buried his face in my skin. Miguel glanced upward, feeling my eyes on him. His fangs had nipped my bare skin, making me yelp. “I’ll be more gentle.” His voice was warm and weighted with lust.
He slipped upward and slid his fingers under the waist of my panties. He bit the material with his teeth. I heard him snip the material and rolled my eyes.
“You can’t do that to all of my clothes. I barely have any to begin with.”
“I’ll buy you whatever you want.” He pressed a warm kiss against my bare hip. Then, he moved to the other side. He repeated the same action, slicing through the material using his fangs. He placed a kiss on that side, as well.
“You’re such a showoff.”
“Am not.”
“You could have just pulled them off of me the normal way.” I fought back a laugh.
“I can bench press a city bus. I don’t need to showoff to you. Besides, learn to have some sense of romance.” He threw the remains of the panties onto the floor. He immediately pressed a soft kiss against the mound that had been covered by my underwear.  
He was extremely careful when he shifted downward. But the dull ache on the skin of my thighs where he had bit made me want to make my only request. “Hey, no teeth.”
“Funny, that’s what I always tell you.” He muttered. I rolled my eyes. “Lay back and hush up.”
“You’re so damn bossy.” I shifted on the mattress, spreading my legs wider for him. He placed his hand across my folds and gently spread them to expose my clit. He flicked his tongue across my clit. “Fuck, Miguel.” I lifted my hips off the bed, moving closer to his face.
He started to work, flicking his tongue over my clit as the index finger on his free hand traced my opened. He collected my wetness on his finger, sliding it around to make sure that I was good to go. Then, he slipped in his middle and index finger, sinking in until his knuckles touched my pussy.
I moaned, feeling his tongue work its magic.
Fuck, he was good at this.
He curled his fingers inside of me, brushing my sweet spot. I grabbed the back of his head, feeling his head bob under my palm as he licked.
Then, something occurred to me. He knew every inch of my body because he had fucked me thousands of times in the past. Even if it wasn’t me, it was a girl who was exactly like me. Maybe I was just that predicable. Or maybe he was just that good.
He picked up his speed, lapping between my folds as I curled my fingers in his hair. I was close and he could feel it. He could feel the twitches and miniatures spasms on his tongue as he worked. “Miguel, I’m close!” I whimpered.
He licked faster. Suddenly, pleasure shot through me, filling me with a white-hot heat. I moaned, spasming around his fingers as I came undone.
Miguel whispered something into my thigh as he pushed himself off the bed. Then, he pulled down his pajama bottoms, allowing for his cock to spring upward. It smacked against his lower stomach, heavy and decorated with a dark vein that ran along the underside. He kicked his pants off into the floor and then crawled on top of me.
He pressed a soft kiss on my lips. I could taste myself on his lips.
“This may hurt at first. I won’t move until you’re ready.” He said. He reached down between us. I watched as he grabbed his dick, stroked himself twice, and then lined himself up with my entrance. Without another word, he slid inside, making me gasp. I curled my legs around his hips, pulling him in deep as possible. “That’s my girl.”
I was overwhelmed with a stretching sensation. Arms rested on either side of my head as he stayed in place, waiting for me. After a moment, I leaned forward and kissed him, giving him the go ahead. One hand drifted up to my face. He caressed my cheek and his lips glided against mine.
He drew his hips back, sliding nearly all the way out. Then, thrusted upward, hitting deep inside of me. I gasped into his mouth. “I forgot how tight you are.” He murmured, his words slurring together.
My hands slid down his muscled back as he started to fuck himself into me. All the while, he kept his mouth on mine. I could feel his heart beating against my chest as he worked.
“Miguel…” I moaned, rocking my hips against him. I could feel my lower stomach tightening.
Suddenly, he whispered my name. It was so gentle that it was almost unsettling, considering the circumstances. I glanced up to meet his gaze. But as my eyes met his, he dipped downward. He buried his face in the curve of my neck so that I couldn’t see his eyes.
“Miguel, what’s wrong?”
He rutted his hips upward, burying himself as deep as possible. I gasped, digging my nails into his back. Despite how hard I had sunk them in, they didn’t break the skin. He was indestructible… at least, physically. I slid one hand across the skin of his back, moving to his dark hair. I could have sworn I heard him murmuring something into my neck. I could feel his lips moving against my skin, offering some kind of low prayer. But to who?
“Miguel…” He pulled his hips back again and then quickly slid inside of me again, grinding his hips against me to get a reaction. I gasped, tightening my hold on his hair.
“Say you love me.” His voice was dreamy, and his words slurred from pleasure.
“What?” I asked. It caught me off guard.
“Say it.”
“I love you.” I felt his hips still their movements. He was weighing the authenticity of my words. After a moment, he lifted his head from my neck.
“Say it again.” His eyes peered into mine. He was searching for something in my stare.
“I love you.”
“Good girl.” With that, he continued to beat into me, groaning when I would tense around him.
We were both close. I could tell by the chorus of whimpers and moans that were filling the room. That familiar tightening in my stomach was close to coming entirely undone.
He pivoted his hips, hitting the perfect spot inside of me. Miguel stared down at my features. He wanted something very specific from me before he finished. He ground his hips, making me gasp.
Fucking hell, Miguel.
With that, I felt myself come undone. Pleasure shot through me, making me clamp down on his dick. He grunted, never stopping his movements. “Miguel, I love you!” He groaned at my words. He kept hitting deep inside of me, making sure to grind himself against me every couple of thrusts.
His orgasm overtook him. He groaned my name as he gave one final thrust, hitting deep. I felt his body tense under my hands.
Slowly, we both came down from our highs. We were dragged back to the reality of the bedroom. The day had faded into night, leaving us in darkness.
He had finished inside of me. I could feel a deep warmth inside of my stomach. I also felt a distinct wetness that was hard to ignore. I sighed, relaxing into the mattress. I unhooked my legs, waiting for him to slide out of me. But, instead, he reached behind him and closed my legs again.
“No…” He murmured. Then, he leaned down and pressed a kiss against my lips. In this position, I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. It was so intimate; so loving. Maybe he really did see me as his wife. He pressed another gentle kiss against my mouth. I closed my eyes, giving into the softness of the moment.
“You have to do something for me.” He said. I opened my eyes to look at him.
“Okay.”
“I want you to love me like you loved him. I want you to look at me like I’m your hero and that I’m special.” He inhaled sharply before he reached forward to brush one of my curls off of my forehead. “I want you to care if I die.”
I nodded. What other option was there? I was trapped in his little universe; it’s not like I could ever leave or be with anyone else. Besides, we were still literally connected at the hip.
After what felt like an eternity, he slid out of me. He leaned back on the balls of his feet to inspect me. I immediately closed my legs, though that did little good. He reached forward and grabbed my knees, prying my thighs apart. Warm cum dribbled out of me, coating the naked skin of my upper thighs.
He smirked at his handy work before pushing himself off of the bed. He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, turning on the faucet and grabbing a towel from the cabinet.
It was then that something occurred to me. “Miguel, I’m not on birth control.” I said. He nodded, acting as if I had just told him about the weather. He stepped out of the bathroom holding a damp washcloth. “Miguel.”
“What, sweetheart?” I stared at him, feeling my mind begin to race. He climbed onto the bed, moving to where I was laying. He sat down between my thighs and gently began to clean the remains of him off of my skin.
“You didn’t… you didn’t use a condom and I’m not on birth control.” I said. I could feel my heart beginning to race. Why wasn’t this bothering him in the same way?
“You’re my wife.” He said as he wiped my skin.
“Miguel.” I repeated. I wanted him to react.
“What are you wanting me to say?”
“Anything.” I said. I wanted some kind of actual reaction.
“Things are exactly as they need to be. Whatever happens, happens.”
“That’s not an answer.” I said.
“Maybe you need to learn to be happy with what you’re already working with.” He finished cleaning me up and then walked to the bathroom. He had made sure to only clean the skin outside of my body. He didn’t try to remove any of the fluid inside of me, despite how much there was.
He came back to the bed and quickly climbed in. “You should get some sleep.” He said. I stared at him, searching for some idea about what he was thinking. He offered a soft smile in return.
Was he fucking with me?
Did he really love me or was he just using me as a quick screw?
Did he actually want me to be his wife… or was this some fucked up mind game of his?
He leaned back against the pillows and then lifted his hand. He curled a finger toward him, motioning for me to come. “I’m not a dog.” I muttered.
“Then be a good girl and do as I ask.” He reached forward and gently grabbed my body. He slid me closer to him, moving me so that my head lay against his bare chest.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Afraid so.” He said. He placed one hand on my shoulder and the other on my side. He slid his fingers up and down either side of my body, taking in every soft dip and curve. Every so often he would lean down and kiss the top of my head.
I couldn’t help but notice the way that his fingers traced over my lower stomach. He looked wistful as he traced the soft skin. I squirmed, feeling insecure.
“Stop wiggling and get some sleep.”
“Then stop feeling me up.”
“I’m not feeling you up. I’m trying to be nice to you.” He murmured against the top of my head. He pressed another kiss against my hair.
“You’re an ass.” I muttered. I rolled his eyes as he continued to pet my bare skin. His heartbeat played in my ear.
As I began to drift off to sleep, I felt him begin to play with my frizzed curls. He would coil a stand of hair around his finger and then let it go, satisfied with the soft curl that had formed.
It was something that my Miguel liked to do, as well.
Maybe they weren’t all that different.
I heard his strong heartbeat against my ear as I faded away from the room.
Before I fell asleep, Miguel pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead. “Please don’t leave me.” He whispered.
I love you...
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scarletssienna · 2 months
Text
I'll Never Let You Go
Summary - Your fights with Wanda were unusual, but often recently. Misunderstanding was bound to happen. When things with Wanda get too difficult you seek comfort in someone else's embrace. 5k word count
Warnings - Hurt-Comfort, angst, mommy Wanda, sub!reader, dom/sub dynamics, mean Wanda, grinding, pinning, Natasha comforting, fighting, face-slapping, jealousy, talk of threesome, talks of consent
AN - Part two of the mini-series. Part one here. Surprisingly no real smut in this chapter. Don’t worry, you’ll get your fill-in the next one. Some insight into their fighting as well as what happens after R left ;)) The next chapter will probably be the last in this series! Feel free to hit me up in my asks with thoughts/ideas/requests though! :))
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18+, minors + men dni
Two weeks ago
“Detka. I have had enough.” Wanda exclaimed as she angrily tossed the sponge into the sink, turning to you with wide eyes. Her jaw was slack as she looked at you, her eyebrow raised and one hand on her hip as she expected you to understand what was bothering her. You dropped your spoon back into your cereal bowl, looking quite confused at the sudden anger, choking down your bite of frosted flakes. Before you could ask what was wrong, she decided to tell you. “You have been sitting there, chomping loudly enough for the entire neighborhood to hear you eat that for the past what?! 20 minutes?!” She exclaimed in frustration as she dried her hands on her robe, bringing her hands to hold her forehead in pain, grumbling under her breath. You knew it wasn't about the cereal. Her head had been killing her for the past few days. She had just been covering up the sickness with anger. She pressed her palms to her eyes, holding them firmly.
“I’m sorry Wands,” you said as you stood up, dumping the rest of the cereal down the drain as you took over the job of washing the dishes. When you finished the dishes she was still standing there, leaning up against the counter, her head buried in her hands. You walked over cautiously as you gently placed your hands on her hips, sliding them up slowly to her waist. You leaned closer and kissed her temple. “Maybe you should take a break from work?” You suggested tenderly as you rubbed her sides softly. “You've been working so hard lately and deserve a break. I can stay home with you - run you a bath and-” 
“I should take a break from work?” She interrupted you with a scoff. She pulled her hands away from her eyes and put them on your wrists. “Yeah, suddenly you're the one to talk about when to take a break when I've been telling you to for the past like,” she grumbled not knowing exactly how long the fight was as it was truly pointless. “Forever.” she pushed your hands off her waist and stepped away. “Don't touch me, I'm gross and haven't showered.” She said as she walked towards the cupboard, grabbing a glass of water. You rolled your eyes as you watched her move around the kitchen aimlessly. She never knew how to accept comfort when she wasn't feeling good. She didn't know how to let herself just be taken care of. 
“Whatever,” you mumbled under your breath as you went to get your shoes and jacket on to leave for work. You walked into the kitchen again to tell her you were leaving. She hadn’t expected you to come back in because she was leaning face forward on the counter this time, her head buried in her arms as she mumbled in pain. “I won’t be home until late tonight.” You stated, causing her to startle and stand straight up. “Don't wait up,” you told her before contemplating walking over. You always kissed her goodbye, but it didn’t seem like she wanted that today. 
She rolled her eyes at you saying you wouldn't be home until late again tonight. It had been like this for the past 3 weeks. You would either plan on being out late or accidentally get her hopes up by saying you would be home but leaving her to sit alone at the dinner table with the meal she prepared for the both of you. She had truly grown to just expect it at this point. She walked over and grabbed the collar of your shirt, pulling you into a fast kiss before retreating upstairs. Although she was upset she always made sure to kiss you goodbye. She feared that one day she wouldn't and you would die or something gruesome and she just couldn't risk her chances. 
With the deadlines for the end of the year approaching you were at work much too often lately. Not that she was any better to be fair. It seemed anytime one of you was home the other would be off working. It wasn’t ideal and you felt guilty about being gone so often. It would be better in a few weeks.
That night you were surely tied up in your office,  paperwork surrounding you in scattered piles. You rubbed your forehead and looked over one of the files on your desk, tapping your pen on the desk. You glanced up at the time, grumbling as you saw it was nearly midnight and you were nowhere near done for the night. When you heard a knock on the door you startled at the sound. Everyone had long left the office and you and the security guard were the only ones that usually remained at this hour. When you looked up, your eyes met with a familiar redhead. Natasha smiled at you before biting her bottom lip softly. 
“I figured I’d find you here still.” She licked her lips and shoved a hand in her pocket. “Can I come in?” She asked with a little chuckle and smirk on her face. 
“Yeah for sure!” You said, just happy to see anyone at this point in the night. You shut the file in front of you and pushed your chair back slightly. You pushed your glasses off your face, resting them on the top of your head as you looked up at the girl who wandered over to your desk. “What are you doing here?” You asked as you looked up at her. She stood on your side of the desk in front of you, leaning slightly against the desk. 
“Oh, you know. I can never seem to remember everything I need when I leave. Makes me come back at odd times.” She said with a laugh as she set her file on top of your pile of stuff. You giggled and bit your bottom lip slightly, sighing at how late it was. You brought a hand to your mouth as you covered up a yawn. “Boring you already huh?” She teased and reached out, taking your glasses off your head and setting them on the desk. Her hand brushed your cheek softly before sighing and leaning back a little further on the desk, her hands bracing her on either side of her body. You blushed a little at the action and quickly turned your face away, looking towards your desktop as you typed a few more things into your document. “You know, you should be working less. These long hours aren’t good for a pretty girl like you.” She said as she looked into your eyes. You avoided eye contact and scoffed a little.
“You sound like Wanda.” You murmured, glancing up at her with a little smile before quickly looking away. 
“Oh, do I now?” She asked with a smirk as her hand reached out, spinning your chair so that you were facing her again. “Sounds like the little witch may be right then.” She stated, causing you to roll your eyes, a tiny grin on your face. 
“Be nice.” You warned. There was something about Natasha that drew you in. You could never go for it though. You loved Wanda more than anything. It would be stupid to do anything to put that in jeopardy. Unfortunately, your girlfriend seemed to pick up on it slightly. And even more unfortunately Natasha did as well. And she wasn’t good about helping negate those feelings. She reached down and pulled your chair closer to her as she leaned down. 
“Yeah?” She grinned. “Or what?” She asked as she raised her eyebrow slightly. Her hand reached underneath your chin. “You’ll spank me?” She teased, knowing you could never. Your breath hitched in your throat slightly and your face turned a bright red as you pushed your chair back, quickly standing up to put some space between you. She got the hint and backed off slightly, reaching for her folder. “Let me take you home at least?” She offered, walking around to the other side of the desk. “Being here too long is…dreary.” She said with a furrowed brow and a tone of dramatics. You nodded and rubbed your face before collecting a few files to bring home. You liked to walk to work and back. You found it peaceful and it wasn’t all that far. It was a little too late tonight to be walking alone so you agreed.
“Fine, but you keep your hands to yourself and the teasing to a minimum.” You warned and pointed a finger at her before collecting your bag and jacket. She just smiled and walked with you to her car. The drive home was fairly quiet. There was little small talk every once and a while but it was a short drive and it wasn’t long until you were home. You said goodbye before going inside. You were always quiet with the lock when you got home, not sure where Wanda would end up for the night. You locked the door behind you and discarded your jacket and bag, hanging them in the closet by the front door. As you crept into the room you smiled as you saw Wanda curled up on the couch, snuggled up under a blanket, a random sitcom playing on the TV. It was all ignored though as she slept through it. You walked over and reached for the TV remote, flipping the TV remote off. As silence filled the air you sighed, watching her so peacefully. You leaned down kissing her forehead before carefully picking her off the couch. She stirred and her eyes opened slightly, her bright but tired green eyes looking up into yours. 
“Detka.” She murmured as she wrapped her arms around you, assisting in the carrying to make it easier as she nuzzled her head on your shoulder. 
“Hey, sleepyhead.” You whispered with a smile, leaning down to kiss her softly as you paused on your walk. She hummed into the kiss. 
“Bed.” She whispered and poked your nose with a smile before closing her eyes again. You laid her on her side of the bed, a blush covering your face that was luckily hidden by the darkness of the room. You covered her up and kissed her forehead. She held onto your arms when you attempted to walk away, a confused look forming on her face. 
“I have to get ready for bed, silly.” You whispered and she sighed, slowly letting go to let you get ready. She stole your pillow, pulling it between her arms tightly as she turned onto her side. You smiled at the sight and quickly moved into the bathroom, getting ready for bed as you were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to be in bed with Wanda. When headlights lit up your window Wanda sat up slightly. She frowned when she saw Natasha’s car peeling out of the driveway and driving down the street. Why she took so long to leave was unknown but all it left was this pit of self-consciousness in Wanda’s stomach. She has quickly and wrongfully assumed you were out so late because you were with her. When you came back to bed you crawled in bed next to her, scooting up and pressing your body against hers from behind. You wrapped your arms around her closely and rested your head on her pillow.
“May I have my pillow back, darling?” You asked gently as you rubbed up and down her side softly. She shook her head, squeezing it tighter to her chest. You let out a tired chuckle when she shook her head and pulled her closer, kissing her neck. “I guess that just means I’m going to have to be closer to you tonight huh?” You teased, referring to the fact that the two of you would be sharing a pillow. She let out a hum as an approving response before closing her eyes. You placed one more kiss on her neck before closing your eyes as well. You fell asleep, holding the girl close to you. Unable to sleep, Wanda's quiet tears were muffled into your pillow. She couldn’t understand why you would be out with Natasha so late, again, instead of being home with her. She felt as if it was her fault and she grew to become extremely self-conscious about it.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
The next morning Wanda woke up upset. She just snuggled closer to you as she waited for you to wake up. Typically she would get out of bed and head to work early but this morning she needed the extra time with you. When you woke up you were surprised to see Wanda awake, lying on your chest, her fingertips tracing patterns on your stomach. 
“Good morning.” You whispered as you lifted your head slightly to kiss the top of hers. Instead of continuing with the customary response Wanda decided to jump right in. 
“You’re always out with Natasha.” She complained, not even looking up at you. You sighed, quickly catching the mood she was in. 
“Uh,” you started, confused about where the sudden accusations came from. You went with it anyway. “I mean sometimes, yeah? But I’m also working all the time lately I mean I don’t have the time to be out with her.” You said as your forehead wrinkled in confusion. You brought your hand up to her hair running your fingers through it carefully before massaging her scalp. She grumbled and sat up, turning to look at you. 
“Notice how neither one of those things is being with me?” She asked as she pushed your hand away and sat up. You wanted to giggle at how dramatic she was being but you were lucky you didn’t as you realized she was genuinely upset. 
“Wands, what’s up?” You asked as you propped yourself up with your elbows. She grumbled and rolled her eyes at your question, assuming why she was upset was blatantly obvious. She moved and straddled your lap. You automatically reached up to put your hands on her thighs but she swatted them away and instead held them by your sides.
“She’s like, obsessed with you or something.” She complained as she pressed your wrists to the bed, silently telling you to keep them there as she pulled her hands away and moved them to your stomach, pushing your shirt up. You got the hint and kept them still but your face wriggled into a frown. 
“Come on she’s not obsessed with me.” You said, looking away as you thought back to last night. It was purely situational and she had just been in the area. Remembering the teasing and little bits of flirting Natasha had put out there, maybe you needed to reconsider that idea slightly, and maybe you needed to leave that part out to Wanda. The girl above you took it into her own hands though and with a raise of her hand, her eyes glowed red. When you looked back at her and noticed her you quickly reached up, grabbing her hands. “Wanda!” You frowned, now upset. “Stop using your powers on me.” It was your turn to complain now but she ignored you. Her eyes turned back to normal and she ground her hips against you, pinning your wrists back to the bed, now above your head. 
“The little witch may be right. You are working too much.” She scoffed as she began reciting some of the words from last night. “Or what? You’ll spank me?” She grumbled repeating the line as her hips ground against you, suppressing a moan. “Keep your hands to yourself.” She squeezed your wrists tighter. “Why?” She asked, stopping her movements as she looked into your eyes and raised her eyebrow. “Does she not keep her hands to herself?” You scoffed and rolled your eyes at what she was doing. 
“Wanda get off me I’m not in the mood.” You said firmly and seriously as you looked up into her eyes. She let go of your wrists with a grumble and moved to sit next to you. “Nothing happened. And nothing is going to happen.” You said as you stood up, rubbing your wrists. “Ever.” You said before disappearing off into the bathroom, leaving her on the bed alone. 
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Now
Running away was your specialty. Anything that got too hard or scary, you ran. The unknown was big. How were you supposed to act and behave if you didn't know what would come next? You could handle the unknown when you felt secure with Wanda. She always seemed to know what to do. Her security pulled you in. It all had disappeared lately and you were in search of it once again. Tearful, you knocked on Natashas' door harshly. As you waited for her to answer you grew self-conscious. Suddenly aware that you were standing outside her door, dressed in Wanda's shorts and hoodie, not wearing a bra. Remembering last night you assumed there were probably marks on your visible body as well. You crossed your arms, turning a bright shade of red when Natasha opened the door. The sun was just beginning to creep above the horizon which made her face glow. 
“Hey…?” You spoke softly and your voice cracked as tears began to fall once again as you saw the confusion on Natashas' face turn to concern. She quickly pulled you inside and made fast work of trying to comfort you. 
“Detka…what's wrong?” she spoke gently, the nickname falling all too easily off her tongue. Instead of saying anything you practically fell into her embrace, wrapping your arms tightly around her as your head tucked down and rested beneath her chin, tears falling rapidly as you sobbed. Seeing your state a ping hit Natashas' chest as she suddenly got nervous. “Did she hurt you?” There was hesitation in her voice yet she was firm in finding out the answer. You gasped at her question, the idea of Wanda ever even laying a hand on you non-consensually, was unfathomable to you. Shaking your head quickly she sighed a breath of relief as she shut the door, gently guiding you inside. You clung to her tightly and she awkwardly moved the two of you to her couch. She sat down before pulling you gently next to her. You didn't take much prompting as you practically sat on her, clinging tightly. She began to rub your back up and down in an attempt to quiet your sobs. While they slowed they never ceased completely. Her hand slid gently under your shirt and rested on your bare back, trying to continue the movements when you stopped her. 
“No.” You murmured as you lifted your head for a second looking into her eyes. You reached behind your back, placing her hand back on top of your shirt. You wiped the tears from your face with open palms and sniffled before laying your head back down. She got the hint and continued her slow patterns up and down as you calmed down. When your sobs calmed and turned into quiet sniffling she finally attempted to ask what was wrong. 
“Detka…” she tried again, and you grumbled snuggling closer. 
“Don't call me that.” You said firmly and pulled your phone out, declining a call from work as you set your phone on the coffee table next to you. You sniffled and buried your head in the crook of her neck, closing your eyes. Natasha, at a loss of what to do let you stay in that position. When she felt you drift off to sleep she smiled a little at the sight and pulled you closer. Just after you fell asleep your phone began to ring, Wanda. Asleep, you had no idea. Natasha had to decide, she took a second. She hesitated as she reached over to the coffee table. When she saw who was calling her eyes flickered back and forth between you and the phone. She slowly set the phone upside down, ignoring the call. Unbenounced to you Wanda was growing increasingly worried and anxious at you being gone. She had taken up pacing back and forth between the living room, her phone held to her ear as she dialed your number repeatedly. After the tenth call with still no response she had an idea of where you had been. Despite how she seemed, she wasn't angry. She was scared, scared something had happened to you. But also confused. What had she done? Above all the familiar feeling of self-consciousness grew in her chest. Ignoring everything in the house she tore through to the door. As she got closer to Natasha’s house her concern grew, her power setting off nearby car alarms. 
When the phone calls ceased and the lights flickered in the house Natasha knew Wanda was nearby, and upset. The door flung open, breaking the hinges with a loud bang. You startled awake at the loud noise, a loud gasp leaving your lips. In a panic you sat up, your attention immediately drawn to the front door, Wanda, standing in the doorway. 
“What is going on here?” She demanded firmly as she stalked over to the two of you on the couch, unnecessarily close. This wasn’t Wanda anymore. This was Mommy. Her tone was demanding and firm, but it had a sweet sultry tone that dripped as she spoke. You’d always noticed the more worked up Wanda got, the more her accent came through. This was surely one of those times. When neither of you answered fast enough to her liking she asked again. “I asked a question.” She reached out her hand. You had expected her to touch you, to grab your chin. Instead, she reached towards Natasha. Her fingers gently reached under her chin, lifting it slightly as she made deep eye contact with the other girl.
“She came here this morning!” Natasha stuttered quickly. “She just fell asleep!” She explained with an urgency and demeanor you had never seen from her before. You watched the sight before you, surprisingly curious as you tugged your bottom lip into your mouth. Wanda’s hand raised from off her chin before delivering a slap to Natasha’s cheek. Natasha yelped at the hit, causing you to flinch. You could feel the tension as the two of them interacted. Wanda’s hand gently rubbed and soothed where she had just hit as Natasha leaned into her touch, her legs pressing together in anticipation. The sight in front of you made you squirm. You physically felt your breath hitch in your chest when Wanda leaned forward and kissed Natasha. There was no jealousy behind your eyes as you watched the two of them, their kiss becoming more heated by the second. You squirmed next to them, your legs pressing together as you gnawed on your bottom lip, waiting impatiently in anticipation for your turn. When Wanda finally pulled away her breath heaved slightly as she caught her breath. 
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Wanda said as she stood up and smoothed out her shirt. “Natasha, you are going to go to your room and wait for us in bed. We are going to have a little chat then join you up there. Okay?” She said it in a tone that sounded as if she was asking but she wasn’t. Natasha just nodded and glanced at you before carefully standing and quietly heading to her room. When she left you looked up at Wanda with wide innocent eyes. 
“Mine.” You mumbled as you grabbed Wanda’s hand, tugging her down into a passionate kiss. She straddled your lap happily as she kissed you back, her tongue wasting no time as it brushed against your bottom lip, seeking entrance. You happily obliged, allowing her tongue to take control. “Mine.” You mumbled again, into the kiss this time as your hands reached around her waist, squeezing her sides lightly. 
“Yes, all yours Detka.” She said as she slowly pulled away from the kiss. She dragged her finger across your jaw, tracing her fingers across your face. It was as if she was trying to memorize it. As if you would disappear in her fingers at any second. Her breath grew shaky as tears brimmed her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. She took a second, closing her eyes for a second before opening them, a fresh tear falling slowly but beautifully down her cheek. “You left this morning.” She said in a whisper, any louder, she feared would break her. “Why?” In the second part, she spoke even softer. Each word felt like a chore as it left her body. You felt your blood rushing in your ears, just as it always did when you got anxious or scared. Your hands reached up gently holding her face. Your thumbs brushed across her cheeks, wiping away the tear that had fallen as you kissed her cheekbone tenderly. 
Your jaw shook as you opened your mouth to speak. “I left before you could.” You said, in a level just above a whisper. “I left before you could remember how mad we were.” You paused, sucking in a quick breath, the noise in your ears getting louder. “How mad you were.” You admitted quietly, the guilt and setting in for what you had done. Wanda frowned, her eyebrows crinkling ever so slightly twisting into an even sadder expression.
“You think I’m going to leave you?” She asked as her fingertips paused on your face. “Detka I would never.” She assured. “I’m not mad at you.” She smiled sadly. “I mean, I have been mad.” She admitted carefully. “But only because I’m scared.” She looked away, breaking eye contact for the first time since the conversation started. She pulled her hands away to wipe her face. “Scared you’re going to leave me. For her.” Wanda said quietly as she glanced at the stairs and then back to you. You couldn’t shake your head quick enough. 
“No!” You exclaimed quickly, a little louder than either of you had expected, causing a sad giggle. “Wanda no, no, never. I love you so much. I just.” You stuttered out of shock. “Absolutely not.” You said as you brought your hands back to her face, turning it towards you. “Wanda, you are the love of my life. I can never even imagine leaving you for any reason, let alone another woman. I don’t even want to imagine it!” You sniffled before leaning closer and resting your forehead against hers. 
“I love you too.” She whispered before kissing you. It was a tender kiss, sweet, and simple. She pulled away for a second and chuckled breathily as she wiped your tears away. “Stop crying and kiss me Detka.” She whispered with a little smile before kissing you again, more passionately this time. 
After several minutes of kissing you remembered to Natasha upstairs. You paused, pulling away and pressing a finger to Wanda’s lips. 
“Natasha?” You whispered with a question in your voice about what was going to happen in that situation. Wanda seemed to have an idea. Her hands snaked under your sweatshirt slowly and she kissed the tip of your finger. 
“I think it would be good to get the temptation out of the way.” She admitted, her hands rubbing your sides as they moved upward. “I also think it would be good for me to gain a little control in that whole situation.” She said, a small smile coming across her lips. “How do you feel about that?” She asked it was a genuine question and she was looking for your honest response.
“I like that idea.” You said as a dark blush crept across your cheeks. Wanda hummed happily when she heard your response. 
“I expect you to use your safe word if anything crosses any lines. Okay?” She said firmly as her fingers stopped beneath your bra, she needed you focused for the rest of the conversation. You nodded quickly at her instruction, trying not to get too distracted by the thought of what was about to happen. “Is there anything different you don’t want happening in there?” She asked and you thought for a second. Your face blushed even darker and your head fell to her shoulder in an attempt to hide it. You nodded a little and she slid her hands down your sides, needing to know your thoughts. You were embarrassed to admit them but she prodded anyway, knowing it was necessary. “Detka. What is it?” She asked, letting your head stay where it was if it would make it easier.
You hesitated before quietly admitting it. “I don’t want her mouth.” You paused and built up further courage. “I don’t want her eating you out.” You stated a deep red blush on your face at having to admit that out loud. She didn’t laugh at you as you had expected though. Instead, she smiled understandingly. 
“That’s yours huh?” She asked with a smile, causing you to nod on her shoulder, your face nuzzling into her neck as you began to place soft kisses on her sensitive skin. “Anything else?” She asked, knowing she would have control of what went on up there and could set her boundaries for herself. When you shook your head she hummed, pleased. You pulled back and kissed her again, sighing happily into a kiss. You found yourself distracted by Wanda’s hands trailing up your shirt again. Suddenly you pulled away with wide eyes and began to laugh. Wanda looked confused before realizing it. 
“How long has she been waiting up there?” You asked between giggles as you covered your mouth at the realization. 
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sarawritestories · 3 months
Text
Unwavering Presence Chapter 3
Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)
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Summary: Y/N looks forward to the next time her and Feyre go to the Night Court. Choosing to stay out of the way in the Spring she is visited by the High Lord and threats are made. Few months of learning how to read and Feyre finally warming up to the Night Court, the next time they return to the Spring Y/N is caught of guard and chaos ensues.
Content Warning: 18+ brief depictions of abuse, Tamlin being a dick, Ianthe appearance, unwanted groping (Not from any of our beloved night court folks or Spring court), blood, separation.
Word Count: 5.6k
chapter 2 Masterlist
A/N: I'm sorry if it seems to be a bit sped up but I simply could not bring myself to write more filler chapters! I hope you enjoy!
After my argument with Feyre, I locked myself in my room for the three weeks. Feyre had tried to come apologize and she tried to come in, but I had made sure my door was locked. I didn’t really move from my chair other than to change and sneaking into the kitchen late at night to eat. To avoid running the High Lord, Lucien or my sister.
There had been a continuous warmth on my tattooed wrist, Rhys’ reminder that I wasn’t alone. On the bad days where sleep evaded me, I tried to send back a wave of appreciation, unsure if he could feel it. Chances were he we were sleeping when I sent so he probably didn’t even know, but I did appreciate him.
Feyre and I have never had many fights and it was even rarer that the fight had resulted in us not talking and working it out. The last time was right before Tamlin took us away.
Feyre slammed her bow on the table. “You should have been here. What were you thinking going out there?”  I scoffed as I dropped the wolf carcass on the table, facing my twin whose eyes flared with anger and a hint of fear. “You could have died!”
The door creaked open, and I glanced to see Nesta and Elain emerge from the bedroom. Their eyes went wide taking a look at the beast on the table. Our dad remained near the fireplace not acknowledging that Feyre and I had returned. Not like he noticed when we left. “Feyre, you could have died to. I have just as much skill at hunting like you, we work better together, and it worked out look at what we caught.” I held out my arm to show the wolf. “I love you, and I didn’t want you going out alone tonight. I’m glad I was there to help you take this beast down.”
Feyre blew up, “I could have killed you! I didn’t know you were there!”
I gave her a doubtful look and cross my arms, “I have been able to sense your presence since we have been children, you definitely knew I was there.”
Feyre ran her fingers through her brown hair not caring if she got blood in it. “Maybe I wanted to be alone, figured Nesta would give you some good quality time. At least she doesn’t despise your presence.”
My mouth dropped and quickly recovered, “Are you fucking serious, Fey? What the fuck does that mean?”
“Girls,” Our father croaked from his spot in the fireplace, only then that I noticed he was carving something in his hands. “That’s quite enough. Y/N your mother and I have taught you better than to use that type of language.”
I rolled my eyes, “Whatever you say.” I grit out and was about to push past my sisters when the door flung off its hinges and a beast with emerald eyes locked his gaze with mine.
A knock caused me to jolt from my seat and the book I was attempting to read on the table next to the chair, “Go away,” I yelled trying to conceal the fact the knock on the door frightened me.
The sound of the lock turning, and the door opens causing me to jump out of my chair, to see Tamlin strolling in. He shut the door and made a spectacle of locking the door. His eyes met mine and his eyes held nothing but cold and controlled anger. “Long time no see, Y/N.” He drawled and I tried not to shiver as fear locked up my joints. He slowly approaches me with his hands clasped behind his back, “You’re breaking Feyre’s heart you know. Locking yourself in here.” The sun from the window hit him and in any other situation I would have found his beauty mesmerizing, but his beauty looked sinister.
I crossed my arms and Tamlin takes notice of my tattoo decorating my skin before its tucked away. Feigning indifference, tucking the fear deep down and lifting my chin. “What do you want, Tamlin?” Shifting my weight back and forth.
Tamlin closed the distance, and I took a step back, “You’re coming down and having dinner with us tonight.”
I rolled my eyes, and I could hear the growl in his chest, “No thanks, as you can see, I’m quite busy here.”
Tamlin bared his teeth, “That wasn’t a request,” he took another step toward me.
“I don’t care,” I muttered and made the error of trying to step around him and in a flash, he gripped me and pinned me against the wall his muscled his hand moved from my arm and moved to my hip his free hand clamping down over my mouth. His gaze turned feral and crazed, letting his anger unleash and I could only produce a whimper through his hand.
He brought his face closer to mine and I could see the pure ire in his eyes. “Listen to me carefully. You are going to clean up, put on a pretty dress, come downstairs and apologize to Feyre for causing her stress and pain. Then you are going to eat in silence you will be seen and not heard.” I tried to yank my head, but he has my face in an iron grip, and he gripped my hip in bruising force keeping me pinned to the wall, “Like the good little human girl you are.” He released my face.
I quickly spat in his face, “Fuck-“he clamped his hand back over my mouth and I lashed against him.
Tamlin tsked, “No, no, the only thing I wanted to hear from you at all is ‘Yes Tamlin.’ And an apology to my soon to be wife.” He gripped my hip so tightly I gasped, and a tear slipped down my cheek. Tamlin kissed it away, the gesture going against his words. He met my eyes again his grin anything but comforting, “Blink if you understand, Y/N,” my name almost a snarl against his lips. I slowly blink and more tears fall. He lowers his face to kiss my forehead and I thrash my hands trying to push him away, but I couldn’t move him. He pulled away and released my body giving my cheek a not so tender pat, “Good Girl. Now go clean up there will be a dress on your bed,” he turned and made his way to the exit.
I wrapped my arms around myself, and I noticed Tamlin paused, “Oh and Y/N,” He turned his hand still on the handle, “Make no mistake if you don’t come down, I will drag you to the dining hall and tie you to the chair. Feyre’s happiness is important to me I will do anything to keep a smile on her face.” With that he left, and I let the emotions of the interaction fully take over and slide down the wall and bury my face in my knees to stifle the uncontrollable sobs. I barely notice how warm and tingling my tattoo is through the tears.
Cassian’s POV
I sat in the lounge of the townhouse with Rhys, there was a throbbing in my chest that caused discomfort. I rubbed my chest, but the pain wouldn’t subside, it felt like my heart was aching. I creased my eyebrows sadness consumed me and I rubbed that spot tighter as I closed my eyes.
“Cass, you alright?” Rhys’ voice pulled me from the wave of emotion overtaking me.
“I just have this weird feeling; my chest feels tight.”
Rhys gave me his full attention, his glass of whiskey forgotten. “Do you need me to get Madja?”
I shook my head, “No, just feels like something is wrong.” Another wave overwhelmed me, I closed my eyes, and I took a deep breath to neutralize myself. When I opened my eyes, my brother had a painful expression on his face. He was gripping his glass tightly his knuckles were white. “What is it?” I asked.
Rhy formed his lips into a tight line, and he clenched his hands into a fist, “Something is wrong over there,” he gritted through his teeth as he rubbed his left arm, causing me straightened I didn’t need him to fill me in. “She is sending utter turmoil down the bond.”
I grimace, “What kind of male torments their partner like that. To cause that much dread.”
Rhys shook his head, his eyes meeting mine the stars winking out, “It’s not Feyre, Cass.” My grip on my own glass tightened, “It’s Y/N’s.” Rhys stood and downed the rest of his drink.
Rhys began to walk out, and I called out, “Where are you going?”
“It’s the beginning of the new month, brother.” Rhys turned and winked at me, and darkness consumed him as he winnowed out of town house.
Reader’s POV
After a bath and getting the tears to finally stop I walked into the bedroom, taking a look at my hip fortunately there was no bruising from Tamlin’s grip. A lilac dress was laid out for me. The gossamer fabric chaffed my skin. The skirts were heavy against my hips, the spot where Tamlin squeezed still tender, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths and my wrist tingled. I looked down and grazed my tattoo calm washing over me, “Thanks Rhys.” I whispered.
I walked over to the door and opened it to find Feyre on the other side biting her nail, a nervous habit she started when we were kids. Her eyes widened as she saw what I assumed is my puffy eyes from crying, and in turn I saw how her eyes looked bruised and I know she has still not been sleeping, “Hi.” She whispered.
I drifted my gaze to my feet, “Hi.” I looked back at her and look at her thin frame and her sunken cheeks and Tamlin’s words flooded my brain.
You’re breaking Feyre’s heart.
Guilt racks through me as I lightly pull her hand from her mouth, “Feyre, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out at you.”
Feyre squeezed my hand, “No, I am sorry. I know that this transition has been hard on you. I should have been more considerate to your feelings.”
I gave her a small smile tears pooling in my eyes again, “Let’s just put it behind us,” I patted her hand with my trembling one.
If you don’t come down, I will drag you to the dining hall and tie you to the chair.
“Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, and you’re trembling like a leaf. Do you want to lie down I can tell Tamlin you’re not-“
“No!” I blurted, causing Feyre to step back stunned. I composed myself, smoothing my skirts willing my hands to stop shaking, “Let’s just go have dinner with our…friends.” Feyre beamed at me referring to Tamlin and Lucien as friends as I tried to keep the bile from creeping up. We made our way to the dining hall. The closer we got the more nervous I became even the comfort of the tattoo felt vacant. I was trying to keep my hands from shaking by keeping them clasped.
The doors opened as we approached and Lucien and Tamlin were standing in their seats, snarling at something and as we got deeper into the dining hall to find Rhysand his hand tucked into his pockets. Feyre stilled and I fought every instinct to run and hug him. “Fuck you, Rhysand, we are to have a nice dinner. You can’t just take them.”
“Per our agreement it doesn’t matter when I come pick them up in the month.” Rhys spoke with cool indifference. “But I am a reasonable male,” He turned to us, “Ladies, I’ll give you the choice you can enjoy the meal with the High Lord and his loyal pet,” Lucien scowled, “Or we can go right now.”
Feyre moved to her seat by Tamlin Rhys tracking her entire movement, “I would like to have a meal before being whisked away.”
Rhys pulled his gaze away from Feyre and met mine. For a moment, I looked at Tamlin and could see his lips move the message clear Sit down. I met his gaze to his and hoped he understood what I was trying to convey with my eyes as I began to move to the seat next to my sister.
Don’t leave, please don’t leave. Don’t go.
Rhysand meandered to a seat on the opposite end of the table as Tamlin growled the claws peeking from his knuckles, “They want to have dinner, you can come back when their done.”
Rhys pulled the chair and plopped in it kicking his feet up as if he owned the place. “Where’s your hospitality, High Lord? I think it’s best I stay and join you. I’m sure Feyre and Y/N wouldn’t mind.”
Feyre scowled and I just lowered my gaze, finding the skirts of my dress very interesting as I took a seat. “Fine.” Tamlin grumbled and food appeared on each plate filled with lavish meats and cheeses.
I looked at the table and Tamlin’s fierce gaze met mine, “Y/N, so wonderful for you to finally join us tonight, care to say anything to Feyre.”
“Tamlin, leave her be she already apologized to me.” Feyre scolded her hand gripping my thigh with a gentle squeeze.
Tamlin bristled and I shifted in my seat under his scrutinizing gaze, “Well I’m glad she apologized. Let’s try to have a meal together with everyone present moving forward.” I looked to Lucien who avoided eye contact with me...Coward.
Feyre gave a small smile, “Sounds great.”
I moved my food around with my fork, not having an appetite. I felt a prickle in the back of my mind. You need to eat. I tried to reign in the shock of Rhys’ voice in my head.  You BOTH do.
I looked at him, to see he was eating the food, but his eyes were locked on me and Feyre, I looked to my sister, and noticed she was doing the same thing. Looking at the High Lord of the Spring and his emissary, the two were engaged in their own conversation eating paying us no mind. I took a few bites of my food and out of the corner of my eye I saw Feyre following suit.
One the meal was finished Rhys stood and Feyre rising from hers, Tamlin reached to grab her hand and she casually moved her hand. I made a note to ask her about it when we’re alone. Feyre gave him a small weak smile, “We’ll see you in a week.”
A hand lightly gripped my shoulder, I looked up and met Rhys’ gaze, “Ready to go?”  I nodded and rose from my seat. His hand slid down my arm and gripped my hand. “Feyre Darling,” Her gaze met his as he held out hiss free hand for her to take. She approached him with less fury than the first time we went to the Night Court. When she places her hand in his we are consumed by the darkness, and we are back in Rhys’ home.  Feyre looked at me, “I’m going to go to bed. You are coming?”
Rhys gave Feyre a comforting grin, “She will be there in a moment. I need to talk to her real quick.” Feyre to my surprise give him a silent nod and her lips curve slightly upward and I swore that Rhys stopped breathing for a moment. “Good night, High Lord.” She said and turned and headed back to our shared room.
Rhys turned to me, and I averted my gaze to my hands that were interlaced.  “Y/N, look at me,” I refused and kept my gaze on my hands, look at me, please his voice echoed in your mind. I sighed and met his gaze, “What happened? I felt an unnerving turmoil earlier today through,” he grabbed my arm with the tattoo. “It was like you were screaming down the bond.”
I slipped my arm from his grasp, and he let me, “I don’t want to talk about it.” I murmured wrapping my arms around myself, “I doubt you would believe me anyway.”
Rhys scowled, “You don’t have to tell me what happened. You don’t have to talk to me. But don’t ever say that I wouldn’t believe you. The pain I felt today was real your pain was real.” Rhys’ face softened, “Just don’t bury this down and forget about it, it will eat you alive, okay?”
 I gave him a nod and he turned to leave probably to head to his own room, “He pinned me against a wall,” I blurted, and it caused him to still, he turned, and I could feel the tears building up as I placed my trembling fingers over my mouth, “He clamped my mouth so tight I thought he would break my jaw and he gripped my hip to keep me pinned to the wall.” I sobbed and Rhys in three strides made his way back and without saying anything else wrapped me in his arms and I let the sobs take over and buried my face in his shirt. A comforting hand placed on back of my head and he rubs my back in almost a brotherly way. “I tried to push him away and I couldn’t,” whether he could understand the words and tears just wouldn’t stop. “He told me I needed to remain silent except to apologize to Feyre for locking myself in my room. He said that he going to tie me to a chair and force me there.”
Rhys arms were the only thing keeping me upright, “It’s okay.” He whispered pressed his cheek atop of my head, as my sobs racked out of my body. “What can I do? Tell me what I can do to help you.”
There was a calm emotion that slowed down my sobs slowed, I take a deep breath, “Can you help me not feel as weak and powerless as I felt today? I never want to feel that way again.”
“Yes, you will never have to feel that way again.” He pushed away and looked at me, wiping tears from my cheeks. “I can train you.” I nodded in agreement as exhaustion began to take over my body. “It’s been a long day,” I gave him another nod, “Want to go to your room?” He gripped one of my hands, “I can take you there.”
I shook my head and his brows furrowed, “Can I go to the library?” He smiled and gave the top of my hand he held a kiss.
“Of course, you can, let me take you.” I gave him a small smile and sniffled as he led me to the library. The small journey was quiet, but the door opened, and the books came into view. “Tomorrow, we can start your reading lessons I’m hoping your sister will want to partake as well.” I turned to him, and he held hope in his eyes that Feyre would be willing. “We can start training whenever you want, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”
He released my hand and began to walk away. I grabbed his hand again and he looked back at me, “I don’t know what I can say. What I can do to repay for your kindness.” And I wrapped my arms around his neck, “Thank you, Rhysand.”
He returned the embrace, “You don’t need to thank me.” He pulled away and cupped my cheek, “Have a good night, Y/N.” He places a chaste kiss to my forehead and heads deeper into the hall. I walked into the library and the fireplace lit and I welcomed the warmth as I sat on the large chair. Sinking into the cushion I laid my head back and in the comfort of the library my eyes shut, and sleep overtook me.
Cassian’s POV
She looked beautiful and peaceful on the library chair fast asleep. Rhys had casually let me know she would be there and before I went to bed after a long day in Windhaven, I stopped by to see if she might have needed anything and found her sound asleep. Rhys didn’t tell me what happened in Tamlin’s court, but he had mentioned that she was interested in training. The red around her nose and the smell of dried tears told me she had been crying and my mind only went to the worst-case scenario of what happened.
Leaning off the door I tucked my wings to not have them drag across the floor I approached, Y/N’s sleeping form, the way her neck was angled she would wake up in immense pain. I lightly scooped her in my arms trying my best not to wake her, she only stirred to move her head and leaned it against my chest and the sweet smell of Jasmine and lilacs flooded my nose. She smelled as beautiful as she was. I walked over to the couch that was placed right in between two bookshelves against the wall and lay her down making sure her head pressed against the pillow. The house placed a blanket in my arms and in no hesitation, I placed the blanket on her. She snuggled against the softness of the blanket and let out a content sigh.
I smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “Sleep well, Sweetheart.” And with that I left the library and went to my room.
Reader’s POV
The next morning, I woke up and found myself on the couch in the library, and there was a blanket over me. I remember falling asleep on the chair, but don’t remember moving. The scent of leather and Sandalwood lingered in the room and was a comforting embrace. Feyre opened the door her eyes frantic, “There you are! I was so worried!” She donned a peach dress that fitted her figure with sheer sleeves that had rhinestones on it. Her hair was pinned back to the side, and she looked beautiful even though the dress looked like it was wearing her.
I stretched and smiled at her, “Sorry, Fey, I fell asleep in here. I like it in here.”  I sat up and put the blanket to the side, “I’m hungry.”
Feyre nodded, “Well go change and we will go get breakfast.” I nodded and went to the bedroom to change into a purple top with sheer puffy sleeves that showed a little more cleavage with matching pants and put my hair in a simple braid and made my way to breakfast.
At breakfast Rhys broke the news to my sister that we would be learning to read, write and shield against Daemati fae, which he explained to me is how he was able to speak to me in my mind. That went as well as I anticipated but with some coercing, she joined me in the office to get our first lesson. “I don’t understand why you care about our education.” Feyre grumbled.
“Oh, are you saying having this ability wouldn’t have been useful under the mountain?” I stilled at his question and Feyre went pale and silent. “We don’t know what the future holds, its in my best interest to have you two, well versed and ready for anything.” 
He explained to us how to put up mental shields that we worked on, and we spent an hour writing the ridiculous phrases that made Feyre roll her eyes and mutter, “Insufferable,” causing me to chuckle. After an hour of Rhys scolding us for keeping our shields up and checking our work, he released us for the day. Feyre and I went back to the room and fell into a comfortable silence and that evening I went back to the library and grabbed a book to practice my reading.
The rest of the week was spent that way shielding, reading and writing and towards the end, Feyre was eating more and smiling more to Rhysand which I swore the High Lord soaked in her smiles like sun rays. When we returned to the Spring Court, we both spent some time together reading and despite my utter disgust I would join for meals to appease Tamlin and keep his temper at bay.
Months went by and fell into the same rhythm. Rhys threw in a few fighting lessons, but we started with balance and stretching. He said he would only show me the basics but when his General came home that I would start training with him for more intricate training. I wanted to ask Rhys what Cassian’s role was in his court or just even to learn more about him, but I refrained, I didn’t want to pry, and he never wanted to divulge in the members of his court.
I could tell after Rhysand dropped us off that both Feyre and I were feeling better and stronger as Feyre was begging Tamlin to go out and hunt and help the people in town and met with stonewall refusal. So, she would dive into reading with me, but her face was fuller, and light shone back into her eyes, the color in her hair was vibrant again. Turns out that verbal sparring with Rhys was doing something for her.
Dinner that night after Tamlin told Feyre he didn’t want her hunting, Tamlin was utterly sweet, to her and to me. I welcomed the change even if Ianthe had graced us with her presence and her saccharine grin making my skin crawl. It felt as though things were finally falling into place. I drank the wine that Ianthe had poured for me and when I went to my room, sleep overpowered me and I moved to my bed my head landing on the pillow as I slipped into unconsciousness not even realizing that I had left my door wide open.
I awoke with a start as the warm breeze caressed my bare skin, I sat upright my surroundings spinning but trees surrounded me, I was in the forest. Someone had put a sheer nightgown on me my hands were bound behind my back and female laughter caused my blood to chill. I turned my head to find Ianthe there. “Ianthe, help me please.”
She approached me and gone was any warmth in her features and cold viper took her place as she crouched to meet my eyes, “I’m under Tamlin’s orders. To take you far away from the manor”
I gritted my teeth, “Bullshit, he wouldn’t hurt my sister that way!” I sent panic down the bond in hopes that Rhys would be able to answer my call.
Ianthe stroked a finger down my cheeks moving to my neck and down to my clavicle, “Unless we tell her you ran away.”
Fear ran down my spine I masked it with indifference, “You think she would believe that I would abandon her like that.”
Ianthe traced her finger right above the swell of my breast and I jerked away from her, “Well we could also say that you were influenced by the Naga lured out by a lesser fae and with your fragile human body you couldn’t resist.” I bit my lip, and she smirked knowing she would believe that as she held a dagger and sliced quickly above my clavicle, and I hissed, refusing to scream. Though she sliced off one of the straps to my night gown. She placed a kiss to my cheek before she murmured, “I’d run if I were you. Won’t be long before the monsters that live in these woods smell your blood and come looking for you.” And with that she vanished.
I gritted through my teeth as I rose to my knees, ignoring the pain of twigs and rocks pressing into my knees as I rose to my bare feet and began to run. I wasn’t sure which way I was running and there was minimal moon light to help but I just kept running and sending my fear down the bond. Even opening my mind:
Rhys, help. Please help me!
There was no response, but I kept pushing, kept sending waves of fear down our tattoo and shouting my thoughts in hopes he would hear. It felt like hours I was in there before I tripped over a stump I didn’t see and fell hard on my back. My vision blurred as my head collided with something hard, but the silence was palpable in the forest. My breathing was labored, and I could feel the warmth trickle of blood running down my face. I knew my feet were cut up, but I still rose to my knees and willed myself to try and stand. Dizziness dropped me back to my knees and a sob raked out of me. “Rhysand, please.” I whispered.
A low chuckle echoed behind me, and I began to tremble. “What a delicious treat we have brother, a human girl” The sound of slithering made me want to vomit but I forced the bile down and kept my head down. The slithering halted and the images of the Naga Feyre had painted flooded my memory the serpent-like creatures with talons and vile creatures.
Another low sinister voice followed, “What a pretty little thing and tied up just like a present.”  A sharp finger moved my hair away to look at my bleeding wound. I looked up and met yellow eyes and a pink serpent tongue sticking out. The hand that moved my hair gripped the back of my neck and I whimpered as the Naga licked the trail of blood from my forehead. The free hand groping my exposed breast, the beast hummed in approval, “She is delicious.”  The Naga gripped my hair and I yelped in pain as he approached, bringing his mouth closer to mine but keeping my head in place so I couldn’t move.
Rhys, I think I’m going to die. If I do, it was an honor being your friend.
I could have sobbed when Rhys’ voice came into my head.
No one will be dying tonight.
There was a slash of metal and the howl of the Naga who was gripping me as he was yanked away a flash of blue propelling it back. The sound of wings booming above and a thud on the ground. I couldn’t see my savior’s face only that blue gems blazed in the night as he approached the creature that put its hands on me with a blade in his hand.
The creature’s brother tried to slither its tail around my waist only to be met with steel cutting in clean off. A blast of red power forced the beast back against the tree. The Naga was about to approach again ready for a fight when a dagger flew and landed right in between its eyes, and it slumped back against the trees. The clouds parted and moonlight was able to help me see but a hand grabbed my shoulder and a jerked out of the grip turning slightly to meet familiar hazel eyes. His eyes held fear and he held his hands out palms open, “Y/N, do you remember me?” He whispered.
I nodded, “Cassian,” I whispered my voice hoarse and dry.
Cassian gave me a warm smile, “Good, Can I untie you?” I nodded again and he took another dagger and made his way behind me to cut my ties as the other winged male approached. My hands were free, and Cass took my hands in his and began to massage my wrists to bring the circulation back into my hands. “Is this, okay?” he asked, ignoring his friend who had just approached. I nodded again words not forming.
The other male knelt and gave me a small smile, his eyes a similar hazel to Cassian’s but just like Rhys and Cassian he was utterly beautiful, “I have heard a lot about you, Archeron.” His voice was pure honey, “I’m Azriel.”
I give him a small wave. Cassian released my hand and slid off his jacket sliding it over my shoulders to cover me. I slide my arms into the sleeves. “We have to get going before more come.” Cassian whispered to me, “Will you let me carry you?”
I nod but force myself to say, “Don’t bring me back to the Spring Court.” I whisper as my eyes met his and pain flashes in those eyes. “Please.”
“You are not going back there, Sweetheart. We’re taking you home.” Cassian scoops me up and holds me close to his chest, where the scent of sandalwood and leather fills my nose and my eyes widened, was he there that day in the library? Did he move me over to the couch? My thoughts whirled but the dizziness caused me to lay my head on his chest. “You alright?” He murmured the words thrumming from his chest causing warmth to spread through my body.
“I hit my head, and a little dizzy but I’ll be alright.” Azriel rose nodding to his friend and gripped Cassian’s arm as darkness consumed us until we emerged into a house I had never seen before.
Rhys was in the hall his eyes frantic, “Mother above, Is she alright? Where's Feyre?”
Tears welled up at my conversation with Ianthe bubbled to the surface of never seeing Feyre again, “I'm alright” I croaked, “They’re going to make her think I’m dead.” I whisper and tear slips from my face. Cassian’s grip tightens on me his thumb rubbing circles on my back, and I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face letting his scent soothe me.
"Who is?" Cassian asked.
"Tamlin and Ianthe." I whimper as pain erupts from my head. I pressed on, "They are going to tell her I abandoned her."
Rhys sounded as though he was clenching his teeth, “Cassian go take her to one of the rooms upstairs and have Madja come take a look at her.” I could hear his footsteps and a hand was on my arm giving it a comforting squeeze, “I’ll check on her in the morning.”
You didn't abandon her and when she sees you again she will know that Rhys' words in my mind brought me comfort as I heard his steps walk away with what I assume was Azriel's not far behind.
With that Cassian took me up the stairs and into the room I took a look around there were two twin sized beds and he laid me down on the one farthest from the window, He looked at the wound on my head, "I'm going to go get our healer, I'll be right back." He got up and I on instinct grabbed for his hand, hissing at my fast movement.
"Stay. Please don't leave me." I whispered.
He bit his lip and he nodded he looked off into the distance for a long moment and then he grabbed the chair from the small desk and brought it by my bedside. "Rhys, is calling for our healer." He sat letting his wings dip slightly as he grips my hand again and rubs the top of my hand. The soothing motion lulling me into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 4
Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @Tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieoo
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