#rolling on the floor shaking my fist sobbing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daisynik7 · 9 months

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test drive

Pairing: ex-boyfriend!Eren x f!reader

Word Count: ~4.9k

cw: exes-to-lovers, a breakup scene (flashback) established past relationship, fluff, some angst, smut - car sex (cowgirl), blowjob, cunnilingus, face-riding, 69 position, sex with no condom, multiple orgasms, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, princess, baby)

Summary: You’re moving back to your hometown of Paradis after completing two long years of grad school in Marley. In desperate need of a car, you’re surprised to hear from your ex-boyfriend Eren, who graciously offers you one. Author’s Note: Had this in my head for a while, brain is a little fried at the moment, but I just had to get this out! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated! Header image found on Pinterest, mdni divider by @/mikeykuns.

“Eren, do you think we should break up?”

The two of you are in your bedroom, finished packing the last of your luggage before you fly out to Marley tomorrow morning. It’s near midnight on the last day of summer. The windows are open, and the chirping of crickets is loud amidst the silence of the night air. He zips your suitcase closed, peering at you, confused. “What?”

It’s been the lingering question on your mind the past couple of weeks, but you were too afraid to mention it. Maybe you were hoping that the thought would go away on its own. You didn’t really want to break up. You love him. The idea of being apart scares you, though. The uncertainty, the unknown. Two years isn’t very long in the grand scheme of life, but who’s to say you don’t end up deciding to remain in Marley for good? Eren has already made it clear that he has no intentions of leaving Paradis. Would staying together be a waste of time when the future is so unpredictable?

You bite your lip, nervous to elaborate, voice timid. “I’ve heard that long distance is really hard.”

He stands up, crossing his arms over his chest. “So? We’ll get through it.”

“Will we, though? I’m going to be busy with school, and you’re starting your new job. Plus, Marley is so far away. When are we ever going to see each other?”

He stares at you as if you’re sputtering nonsense. “We’ll make it work,” he answers, definitive.

“It’s not going to be easy.”

He scratches his scalp, frustrated. “I don’t understand. Do you want to break up?”

You stay quiet, contemplating. When you don’t respond right away, he says, “You do, don’t you?” He sounds like he’s been betrayed, which in retrospect, he has been. By you, of all people. The person who’s supposed to love him.

Breathing staggered, tears welling in your eyes, you murmur, “I just don’t know if we can do it.”

He begins pacing the floor, voice increasing in volume, rightfully upset. “You don’t know if you can do it. Me? I’m all in. You’re already giving up before we try.”

“I just don’t want either of us to get hurt!” you cry.

“What do you call this, then?!” he yells, tears rolling down his cheeks. “This fucking hurts! Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way sooner?”

“I don’t know! I wasn’t sure! I was scared.” You sob into your hands. “I’m sorry, Eren.”

He’s shaking his head erratically, fists bunched in his hair. “I can’t believe you’re doing this right now. After all we’ve been through. You don’t even want to give it a shot.”

You swallow hard, wiping snot from your nose. “We can try it out. Let’s try it out,” you plead with him, regretting it.

“No. It’s too late now. You already set us up for failure. Since you’re not confident about us, then maybe this isn’t going to work out after all.” He sounds spiteful. Daggers piercing through your heart in the form of harsh words. And while you struggle for breath, drenching the fabric of your t-shirt, you can’t blame him for reacting this way. You spent an amazing summer together, and the night before you leave, you drop a grenade like this. What were you thinking?

“Eren,” you beg, sniffling

“I gotta go,” he mutters, grabbing his keys, avoiding your gaze.

“Eren, wait!” you shout, following him out the room. Down the stairs. Through the front door. In front of his car. “Eren! I’m sorry! I take it back!”

“Have a nice life in Marley,” he spits out, getting into his car, slamming it shut, and reversing out of the driveway without another word. Headlights reflect off the shimmer in your eyes, watching him leave.

That’s the last time you saw Eren. The next day, you boarded your flight to Marley and moved into your new home. You tried to call him, text him, even pestered friends and family to urge him to reach out to you. He never did. And all the while, you still don’t blame him for reacting the way he did.

The two of you were happy. You loved each other. And when an inkling of hardship reared its ugly head, you ran for it instead of facing it. There’s no way you could have predicted that your relationship would fall apart. In fact, there’s many times that you’ve considered how much stronger the two of you would have gotten if you did stay together. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. If you had believed that sooner, you wouldn’t be living with this remorse.

It's been over two years since that day. Life continued, though it was tough not having Eren around anymore. He was always your biggest supporter, the anchor that kept you afloat. Grad school wouldn’t have been as stressful if you had him by your side, but you managed to scrape by. You made new friends along the way while maintaining your relationships from home. Mikasa and you would chat regularly, and on occasion, she would mention Eren’s name in passing. You received little footnotes of his life through her, but overall, he’s a stranger to you now.

That being said, you’re shocked to finally hear from him after that fateful night two years ago.

Following graduation, you secured a job in Paradis nearby your hometown. For now, the plan is to move in with your family until you save enough money to move out. Unfortunately, you don’t have car. So, in an unexpected turn of events, you sit in the rear of a taxi, on your way to Eren’s.

Eren: Heard you’re home and you need a car.

Those were his first words to you after two whole years of radio silence. After telling you to have a nice life in Marley. Of course, you were stunned when his name popped up on your screen in the first place, even more so to see his offer to help you. Most likely he was informed about your current situation by Mikasa. Nevertheless, it shocks you that he wants anything to do with you.

You actually want to meet with him. It may be no more than a business transaction, but to see him in the flesh will be nice. Will it fix what happened? Probably not. It’s worth a shot, though, for some peace of mind. Maybe this is his own way of telling you that he’s over it, and that the two of you can finally put this to bed.

So, you arrange a time to meet at his place. He gives you an unfamiliar address; it seems he moved out of his parent’s house not long after he started working. Mikasa had mentioned that before. What she’s never disclosed with you is if he’s been dating. On your way to him, your belly begins to fill with dread. Could you handle seeing Eren with another woman? Living together, happily in love? You want him to be happy, but with someone else? Deep down, you still love him. You never dated anyone seriously during your time in Marley. No one even came close to him. He’ll never get back together with you, not after what happened. In fact, you’re positive he’s already found someone, a person who will appreciate him and love him for all he is. Someone who isn’t afraid. It’s better he’s with someone else; you actually hope you see that today, so that you can finally move on.

The trip takes over half an hour. You recognize the route being taken; the same one you would take on the way to Paradis University, where you and Eren met for the first time. During freshman year, Mikasa, your roommate at the time, introduced you to him. The two of you became fast friends, even faster lovers. The spark was there the moment you shook his hand, the moment he gazed into your eyes, flashing that charming smile at you. It was casual at first, no labels, no strings attached. Two horny college kids fulfilling their sexual desires exclusively with one another. Kisses and sex soon became something more, something special. By the time you were sophomores, it was official: he was yours and you were his.

The driver enters a quaint neighborhood, pulling up to the front of a modern apartment complex. Once you pay the fare, you step out, inspecting the building. Eren lives on the third floor; each unit has a balcony overlooking the neighborhood, the nearby cityscape in the near distance. It’s a beautiful location and your curiosity gets the best of you. Who is he currently sharing his life with? Do they watch sunrises together from their grand view, sipping their morning coffee in domestic bliss? Should it be you instead?

Before you get carried away with your imagination, you retrieve your phone from your bag, texting him that you have arrived and are waiting outside. There’s no reason for you to head up into his apartment, right? You’re here to check out his car; that’s it. You can’t help thinking that it would be fun to check out. For research purposes, of course.

He replies quickly, mentioning how he’ll head down to you. You take a few deep breaths, mentally preparing yourself to see him for the first time ever since your bitter goodbye. Do you hug him? Keep your distance? Should you say anything personal or keep it strictly professional? All of these conflicting feelings are fighting with each other in your head. There’s so much you want to tell him: your life the last two years, how sorry you are for the way it ended, how much you miss him. At the same time, you want a clean slate, almost as if you’re strangers meeting for the first time.

As he steps out from the lobby, you freeze on the spot, dazzled by his presence. What strikes you initially is how long his hair has gotten; it’s enough to put up into a small bun, with a few stray strands scattered around his face. His eyes are as brilliant as ever, barely visible dark circles underneath from age or stress, most likely the lather; it hasn’t been that long. There’s still that youthful charm about him, though. That will never fade.

He's dressed in a plain white t-shirt and black sweats pants, an outfit reminiscent of his college years, laid-back and casual. You’ve always liked this look on him, always found it sexy. Too many memories of you stripping this exact attire off him, hasty to make love in the twin bed of his dormitory. You try to shake these thoughts away as he approaches you with a rigid disposition, hesitant and a bit awkward. He clears his throat before saying, “Hey.” His hands are in his pockets as he greets you.

You respond with a gentle smile. “Hi.”

This is going to be harder than you thought.

~~~

Two years. That’s how long it’s been since they broke up, since he last saw her. Two whole fucking years.

Eren didn’t want to break up. The thought never even crossed his mind. He was determined to be with her the rest of his life, of their lives. That’s why he got so upset when she suggested it. They spent an entire summer together, perfect in every possible way, and she had the nerve to ask that question the night before the big move? Do you think we should break up? He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. They were supposed to love each other forever.

It doesn’t excuse the way he behaved to her afterwards. Instead of discussing it like a mature adult, he exploded, too caught up in the storm of emotions raging in his head. His ego was hurt, pride shot down, heart betrayed. Following that night, Eren was too ashamed by the whole ordeal; he thought it’d be easier to ignore it and move on.

Move on. Yeah right.

He replays those scenes constantly. Her pleas of We can try it out. Let’s try it out. I’m sorry! I take it back! ringing in his ears like a broken record, reminding him that if they talked about it, if he had just turned around to work it out, maybe they’d still be together. They’d be happy. It’s the biggest regret of his life; not fighting for her and letting her slip away. A fleeting moment of weakness and fear leading to their ultimate demise. A tragic ending to such a beautiful story. Can they ever get the happy ending they wanted?

He tried to date other women; it never amounted to anything serious. Eventually, Eren gave up on the dating scene all together, focusing his energy on other priorities like his career and friendships. He was hoping that one day, he’d magically be over her.

When Mikasa informs him about her move back to Paradis, he knows immediately he needs to meet with her. Seeing her one last time might be the key to moving on once and for all. So, he finally decides to be mature and contact her, under the guise of giving her one of his cars. In his defense, he’s been meaning to sell it anyways. He never could quite let it go, though, considering it’s the car he drove all throughout college, with her. Late night drives to Maria’s Point, holding hands and kissing beneath the stars. Fast food runs at their favorite drive-thru, her feeding French fries to him from the passenger side, cruising through the empty streets with their favorite music blaring through the radio speakers. Even the backseat has seen plenty of action during those years, the foreground to many naughty trysts away from campus. Every corner of it carries a memory of her; that’s why he’s been so reluctant to let it go. He still loves her. But that’s all in the past. This car will be the final peace offering that will allow him to move on. He’s got it all planned out.

What he’s not prepared for is the rush of emotions that flood his chest upon seeing her. This is definitely not part of the plan.

When he greets her, she smiles at him, the same radiant smile he’s yearned for the two years of her absence. One that instantly warms his soul. He does his best to maintain his composure. Keep it together, he thinks to himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets while he clenches his fists, bursting at the seams. This isn’t part of the plan.

He kicks the ground with his heels, fidgeting. “So…it’s been a minute, huh?” He does a mental eye roll to himself. Did he really say that? Idiot, idiot, idiot.

She giggles, and he nearly combusts. How is it that a simple laugh can ignite every fiber of his being? He’s a fool for assuming he could get through this unscathed. “Yeah. It has. How are you?” Her expression is sincere; he always loved that about her, how intently she listens, how much she cares. Even after their harsh breakup, that sincerity remains. She’s making this much more difficult than he expected.

He shrugs, nonchalant. “I’m okay. You?”

She mimics him, raising her shoulders. “I’m alright.”

He chews his lip nervously before asking, “Well, do you want to check out the car?” Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan, he reminds himself.

She nods, following him to the parking garage to his designated spot. Her eyes widen when she sees it. “You want to sell me this?”

“Yup.”

She inspects it, mouth parted, surprised. “Wow. The Titan.”

He busts out in laughter, amused that she remembers the silly nickname they came up with freshman year. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

She turns to look at him, eyes twinkling, lips curled into a warm smile. “How could I forget?”

He swallows hard, saliva thick on his tongue. Fluttering in his core, tingling through his fingers. The question stumbles out quickly. “Want to take it out for a spin? A test drive?”

Eren’s aware that this is dangerous territory. The two of them, enclosed in the small space of his car, memories in every crevice of the interior. It’s his chance to properly apologize for what happened. That’s how he justifies it, at least. Part of him also wants to recreate their past together. Riding in his car, fingers laced together on the center console, singing their favorite songs with the windows rolled down, wind blowing on their smiling faces. It’s infeasible; he doesn’t even know if she feels the same way. There’s that tiny portion of him that holds out hope; she did agree to meet him. That means something, right?

She contemplates for a moment. “Sure. Can you drive, though?”

“Still the passenger princess, I see.”

“Some things never change, right?” She gives him a wink before stepping to the side of the car, waiting for him to unlock the doors.

He gulps, thrilled and jittery at whatever adventure they’re about to embark on. In the corner of his mind, all he can think is

Fuck the plan.

~~~

You weren’t supposed to get in it with him. The idea was to meet him and do the exchange, simple as that. When you recognize the car, all the memories you shared flood into your mind. You let your emotions get the best of you; you want one more special moment with Eren. It’s only fair to your relationship to end it on a good note, right? You weren’t expecting anything more than closure, which was what the both of you needed.

He doesn’t tell you where he’s driving to, but he doesn’t have to. By the time you’re on the highway, you watch the sun set in the distance from the rearview mirror. You pass by multiple signs, indicating Maria’s Point in x number of miles, the amount decreasing the closer you approach it. The two of you chat, condensing all from the past two years into a half hour car ride. You describe your experience in grad school, he talks about his full-time job. It’s cordial, like two old friends catching up after a while being apart. Except the both of you are fully aware of the elephant squished in the backseat of The Titan. Neither of you mention anything about it.

He drives up the familiar hill leading up to the panorama at the top of the cliff. This spot of Maria’s Point is often secluded, which was perfect for you and Eren back in the day. He parks away from the edge, the last rays of orange and pink hovering on the skyline. With a twist of his keys, he shuts off the ignition and it’s silent. Suddenly, after effortless conversation, you’re shy, unable to speak.

Luckily, he does. “I actually want to talk to you about something important.”

You snap your seatbelt off, adjusting to give him your full attention. His hands remain on the steering wheel, drumming his fingers nervously. “I’m sorry for the way I acted that night.” He doesn’t need to elaborate; you know exactly what he’s referring to. You’re caught off guard from the apology, so you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue.

After a deep breath, he explains, “I blew up, and I shouldn’t have. I got upset because I thought you had given up before we even tried. But I know you were scared; I was too. Regardless, it wasn’t right and I’m sorry. For that and for avoiding you after.” He slides his hands around the wheel, dropping them to his lap. His eyes are forward, avoiding you.

When he doesn’t have more to add, you respond. “Thank you. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have blindsided you. I should have told you how I was feeling instead of ignoring it until the last minute. Like you said, I was scared, so I ran away from it without even giving it a shot. It wasn’t fair to you, and it wasn’t fair to us.” He’s focuses on you now, listening carefully as you talk. “Just so you know, I never blamed you for how you reacted. I deserved it.”

He shifts his body towards you, shaking his head. “No, you didn’t deserve that. I didn’t even say goodbye.”

You blink away the oncoming tears from your eyes. “It’s okay, Eren. We can do that now.”

The stillness that follows is concerning. He studies you with an unreadable expression, contemplating. Then, he leans closer to you, elbow resting on the center console, his breath tickling your cheeks, whispering, “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

You gravitate towards him, lessening the space between you, gazing at his lips. “You don’t?”

“I never wanted to in the first place.”

Drifting forward, you rest your forehead to his, the skin-to-skin contact rekindling the spark that burned so brightly not too long ago. “Eren.”

“I miss you,” he confesses. “Every fucking day.”

His lips graze yours, eyes watching you, waiting. Unable to hold back any longer, you kiss him, melting into him seamlessly. The two years of remorse vanish in an instant, and you’re transported in time, as if you were never apart. You touch your palm on his chest, his racing heartbeat thumping against your fingertips. He slides his hand around the nape of your neck, cradling you gently, deepening the kiss. His lips are soft on yours, prudent and delicate, careful not to overbear you.

You pull off to catch your breath, clutching at his t-shirt so that’s it’s bunched into your fist. “I missed you, Eren.”

He swallows loudly, eyes half-lidded in a daze. “I missed you so fucking much,” he mutters, driving his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you desperately now. He drinks you up like he’s dying of thirst, the only cure to his drought. You match him, opening wider, swirling your tongue with his. His lips trail to your neck, sucking on the pulse point beneath your chin.

“Eren,” you moan, running your fingers through his hair.

“I love hearing you say my name. Fuck,” he swears, licking at the spot. He marks you on the other side, nibbling lightly at your skin with his teeth. “Did you ever think about me?”

“Every day,” you admit, eyes closed as he moves to your ear, pinching your lobe between his lips. “And you?”

“All the time,” he answers. He breaks away, cupping your cheek tenderly in his palm. “I’m still in love with you. I love you.”

Your breath hitches, throat tight with emotion, though you manage to utter, “I love you too.”

He beams at you before suggesting, “Should we get out of here? Go to my place?”

Tugging at his collar, you shake your head with a smirk. “I can’t wait that long.”

Understanding what you’re implying, he suggests, “Backseat?”

You give him a wet smooch and a nod. He chuckles, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Are you that needy for me, baby? Can’t even wait to go home?”

Glancing at his lap, the evident bulge protruding from his sweats, you scoff at him playfully. “Don’t act like you aren’t either. Look how big you are already.”

He grins, exiting the driver’s side and quickly sliding into the backseat, spreading his legs wide, hoisting his shirt off to reveal his chiseled torso. “You’re right. I’ve been waiting two years, please don’t make me wait any longer.”

You follow him to the rear, shrugging your blouse and pants off hastily until you’re down to your underwear. He marvels at your bare figure, licking his lips while you kneel beside him. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, scanning you up and down, almost in disbelief. “Would you think about me whenever you touched yourself?”

Nestled to his lap, ass sticking out, you nod, rubbing your face on the erection straining against the fabric. “I only thought about you, Eren.”

“Fuck,” he groans, mesmerized. He pets you, brushing his thumb across your cheeks. “Me too, sweetie. No one makes me come the way you do.” He lifts his hips to slide his bottoms and boxers down his legs, exposing his hard cock standing stiff and pretty, glistening with precum leaking from the tip.

You’re salivating, spit coating your entire mouth, hungry for his cock. Without wasting another second, you swallow him, surrounding him in your wet heat until he hits the back of your throat. He bucks up slightly, thighs trembling beneath you. “Fuck,” he swears, trailing your spine, gliding to your ass. “Always so good to me.” He slips beneath your panties, teasing your entrance. “Can I fuck you with these fingers? Please?”

You nod with his cock in your mouth, slurping the drool trickling on his shaft, bobbing on him. He slides one in, then another, pumping them in and out of you as you moan around his dick. He wriggles inside you, stimulating your sweet spot, gushing on his digits with your first orgasm. His follows immediately after, his load spurting onto your tongue, guzzling every last drop of him.

You release him, turning over so your head is resting on his lap, peering up at his face. His hand is between your legs, rubbing the soft plush of your thighs, smiling down at you. He teases your clit, flicking his wet fingers on it, causing you to whine.

“You still like it when I play with you like this,” he purrs, watching you twitch from the pleasure. “My good girl always comes so much for me.” He caresses your forehead gently, toying with your swollen bud. “Can you give me another one, princess?” Too many times do you remember him pleasuring you, sitting in the passenger seat, you gripping to his wrist, directing his hand to your pussy. Tonight is no different; he’s just as relentless, tapping away at you until your creaming for him once more.

“I need to fucking taste you,” he growls, slipping his fingers past his lips, licking them. “Sit up, sweetie. Ride me while you make me hard again.”

It’s clumsy maneuvering in the cramped space, but eventually, you get into position. He’s below you, slurping at your sopping pussy as you’re bent over his cock, licking the head as you stroke him off. The windows begin fogging up, the air sweltering and humid. Your knee digs uncomfortably into the cushion, the other hangs off the edge of the seat, foot planted to the floor. Eren manages to fit his impressive stature, one leg angled and stretched towards the driver’s side, the other laid across the backseat, enough space for you to blow him while you ride his face.

“I missed this sloppy cunt,” he muffles, spreading his tongue on you. He spits, smearing his frothy saliva across your clit, puckered around it, sucking.

Once he’s hard again, you beg, “Fuck me, Eren.” You’re close to another climax and you’re desperate to come with him in you this time. “Please.”

He laughs, lifting you off, his face glossy with your slick, covering his nose, mouth, and chin. “Whatever you want, princess.” He sits up against the seat, legs splayed like a throne for you to sit pretty on. You straddle his lap, rubbing your pussy on his cock before guiding it into your entrance.

You both drawl out, “Fuck,” kissing messily, arms wrapped around each other in a snug embrace. You ride him feverishly as he fucks up into you, gripping onto your hips tightly, bouncing you on his dick. You’re both sweating immensely, the temperature in the car sweltering, but neither of you mind it, too concentrated on each other’s orgasms, too addicted to the high you’re chasing together.

“Fuck, baby. I’m so close,” he groans, picking up the pace, his thighs slapping lewdly against your ass.

“Come inside me, Eren. Fill me up,” you whimper, pushing the hair away from his sweaty forehead.

“Yeah? You want it? Take it then. Take it sweetheart.” His eyes are shut tight as he shoots his load, thick cock pulsing inside you. You ride out your orgasm with him, scattering delicate kisses on his face. He grins, gazing at you with a hazy expression.

“What’s that look for?” you ask, booping his nose.

“Nothing,” he replies, cheeks rounded into a bigger smile. He squeezes your face between his palms. “I’m just happy. So unbelievably happy right now.”

You place your hands over his, leaning into his touch. “Me too.”

You stay comfortably like this for a few minutes, Eren cracking the windows open to let out some steam. You joke, “So, are you still going to sell me this car?”

He chuckles. “How about I give it to you. I was going to anyways.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. It was supposed to be a peace offering. But I like this outcome way better.”

“Me too. But I’m not going to just take it from you. Let me pay you for it.”

He tips your chin to look at you, grinning wide. “How about you move in with me instead?”

“What?” you giggle, unable to contain your smile, thrilled by the suggestion.

“Move in with me,” he repeats, nuzzling his nose to yours.

“Isn’t this is a little too soon, considering we just got back together?”

He stretches his arms out, relaxing into the seat, smirking at you. “We already wasted two years without each other, I’m not wasting any more time.”

You scoot closer to him, kissing his cheek, then his lips. “Okay, you’ve got a deal.”

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winkwonkwankwenk · 3 months

Text

Pillow Princess - Nanami x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.2k

SFW/NSFW

☆*: .｡.Summary .｡.:*☆

Nanami comes home from work pissy, raises his voice at you, and then has to make-up for it.

Nanami pushes the front door open, fist clenched around his briefcase. Meeting after meeting, his boss had pissed off his entire department- leaving him to deal with their complaints the rest of the day. Now he was finally home but the stress of the day still weighed down on him like bricks on a weak foundation.

“Honey, I’m home.” He fumes while fumbling with his tie. “Dammit!”

Your hands gently move his aside, undoing his tie in seconds. You’ve had plenty of practice since most nights he comes home so exhausted he passes out on the couch. Normally he smiles a little when you help him, but today a frown is stitched onto his face. You pout, trying to cheer him up with a delicious dinner but he picks at his food, eyes glued to his phone as he works overtime.

“What happened to keeping work at work?” You mumble, thinking back to the rules the two of you had set when you had moved in together.

“I’ll be done in a minute.” He doesn’t even look up at you, too busy typing away.

“It’s been ten minutes-”

“And I’m still not fucking done!” His hand slams down on the table, shaking it so hard his plate slips off of it and shatters on the floor.

His eyes widen when he sees the tears welling in your eyes, he’s never raised his voice at you before. Tears flood your face as you storm off, your feet slamming against the steps. He calls out for you but you don’t answer. You spent hours making him the perfect roast just for him to knock it away. You even got his favorite bread rolls! You had done everything in the house the way he likes it with the hopes of having a relaxing night with him only for his mood to dampen your spirits. You slam the bedroom door and curl up under the plush blankets on your bed, bursting into tears. Why did you think tonight would be different?

Nanami leans back in his chair, hand dragging down his face. He owed you an apology, but words weren’t enough. He pulled his coat back on and the last thing you heard before falling asleep was the front door closing. You wake up to a gentle knock against the door, eyes swollen from crying and head pounding. The door creaks open as Nanami peeks in, a charcuterie board in one hand and a bottle of Rosé wine in the other. His eyes soften as you turn away, arms crossed over your chest.

“May I come in?” It’s his bedroom too, but he doesn’t want to invade your personal space.

“...Yes.” You pull the blanket around your shoulders, eyes on the soft carpeted floor.

Nanami sets the board down on the nightstand, filling two glasses with the wine and softly sitting beside you. You accept a glass from him, sniffling and sipping. The bubbles pop in your dry mouth, the sweet scent making you let out a low hum. He smiles, kissing one of your hands.

“I’m sorry about tonight, I know I haven’t been…myself.” He leans in, hands intertwined with yours as he covers your knuckles in kisses. “I took off work tomorrow.”

You nod.

“Honey…please, how can I make it up to you?” He tilts your chin up and cups your face. “Do you want to go shopping-”

“I want my husband to hold me.” Your voice is choked, shaky as he pulls you into a tight hug. You bury your face into his neck, hot tears spilling from your eyes.

His arms are big and strong, wrapped tightly around you in a bearhug that’s as warm as bread fresh from an oven. Nanami kisses away your tears, hands massaging your back and shoulders. You sob into his chest, drenching his shirt in your anxieties and insecurities. You shouldn’t be crying like this, he’s the one who was at work all day. If you had been a good wife then he wouldn’t be so stressed out in the first place-

“None of that.”

“N-none of what?”

“Blaming yourself.”

“How’d you know?”

“Honey, we’ve been married for three years now, I know when you’re being hard on yourself.” His thumb brushes away a stray tear as he kisses your nose, “Tonight was my fault. I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you. It won’t happen again, I’m sorry.”

A few minutes later, your head is resting on his shoulder as he leans back against the headboard and flips through movies. You nibble on the steak squares and fancy cheeses as you sip wine, giggling when your hair tickles his nose as he lays his head on yours. He tilts your chin up, kissing you, drinking from your mouth as you moan quietly. His hand dips under your nightgown, past your bra, groping your breasts sensually. Your breath hitches, body arching into his touch.

“I’ve been away from home far too long.” His tongue curls around yours as he taps the remote, romantic smooth jazz whispering into the room. Your mouth is sweet, the noises that leave it even sweeter.

“Setting the mood, Kento?” You tease as shaky breaths leave his lips, his eyes half-lidded as you kiss his neck. “Someone’s eager~”

“How can I not be when my gorgeous wife is sitting so prettily in my lap?” He leans his head back, giving you better access. “Y/N, I’m supposed to be treating you-”

“You can after I help you with this-” Your hand presses down on the massive bulge in his pants, “-I know you’re pent up…”

“I…haven’t had time to deal with it.” His breaths are heavy, labored as you stroke his clothed shaft. His adam’s apple bobs as his belt buckle clicks apart, your breath ghosting over his boxers.

“Well if you’re off tomorrow…we have plenty of time, don’t we?” You pull his boxers down, a smirk sliding onto your face as his legs shake in anticipation. His precum leaks down his shaft and to his heavy balls, your thumb stroking between them as you suck his tip.

He groans as you take him deeper into your mouth, gently holding your hair back as you gag around his girth. He trusts you to know your limits. You look so pretty like this, sucking his cock as if you’re starved. His abs clench when you press between his aching balls, a low growl vibrating in his chest. His hips thrust up to meet your needy mouth, your throat tightening around him like a suction cup. You look up at him, vision blurred as you bury your face in his crotch. His cologne smells so…manly, musky even. You’re surrounded by bright wisps that run up his stomach to his chest, soft to the touch as you press right above his shaft. A strangled moan echoes from his throat, his cock jolting in your throat. Found it. You had gotten curious…looked up a few facts about the male body…learned a few ways to stimulate the prostate…

“Y/N~” His light eyes peek open as his grip on your hair tightens, hand gently tugging your head up. “Wait, wait, wait, wait- dammit~!”

His body spasms under you as he sprays thick ropes down your throat. You look straight into his eyes as you swallow, slowly slipping his cock out until his tip sticks to your tongue and sucking it until he stammers out a plea. You let go of his cock, watching it spring back and hit his stomach. He’s still rock solid, you had forgotten how strong his stamina was. His cock was right against your nose, reeking of his arousal and pulsing. His thumb stroked under your lip, wiping away his release.

“My turn.” He smirks as he unbuttons his shirt painfully slow, tongue tracing his lips as he hungrily stares at your thighs. “Be a good girl and spread wide.”

You lay on your back spreading as far as you can while shaking from anticipation. When was the last time he dicked you down? You used to have sex daily but then he got busy at the office and you had been stuck with a supercharged rose toy that never got the job done. He looms over you, muscles highlighted by the dim lights. His gaze sweeps down to your dripping cunt, fingers sliding down with it until they reach your sensitive bud. Your hips arch as your clit is sandwiched between two of his thick fingers, his tongue tracing wet circles around one of your nipples as he toys with the other. Your thighs try to squeeze together only to be held apart by two sturdy hands as his tongue trails down below your belly to your core.

“So wet…have you missed me that much?” He chuckles quietly as you whimper, his tongue tracing your twitching clit. “Don’t hide from me, let me treat this pretty pussy until it’s red, alright?”

His treat is torture, fingers swirling inside of you, stirring your juices as you squirm. He holds you down by your waist with his freehand, using his other to drag you closer and closer to the edge. His fingers dance inside of you, spreading your walls apart and stroking them so fast you worry he’ll rub them smooth. He looks up at you as he holds your slick entrance open, slowly slipping his tongue in. He starts slow, he always does, but before you know it his face is buried nose deep in your pussy. He’s gripping your thighs hard enough to leave a bruise, imprinting his hands in your soft skin. God he wasn’t joking about you being wet, you’re soaking the sheets, coating his face in your juices as he savors your flavor. Sweet, your lower lips stick to his cheeks as he sucks and slurps your walls.

“Nanami~! Nana-mmh~!” You try to warn him but he’s not listening, his eyes rolled back almost as far as yours. Pleasure explodes inside of you, walls clenching around his tongue as you cry out. “Nanami~!”

He licks up every drop of your juices until your pussy glistens from his spit, massaging your inner thighs as his cock painfully aches between his. You pant, gasping for air as you come down from the high of your orgasm. You haven’t came that hard in so long, and he’s the only one able to make a mess of you like this, the only one who knows how to slide straight into your G-spot and roll his hips so his tip caresses it. He’s the only one that knows how to kiss you, smear your taste across your face so you can know how delicious you are. He’s the only one that gets to fill your mushy mind with ragged breaths as he pants into your ear like a dog in the heat, a dog about to fill up his bitch. All you can do is wither under him, mmh’s and ohmyGodfaster’s spewing from your mouth.

“N-Nanami- na-na-nngh~” Good, so good, you’re melting into a puddle under him as he pummels your pussy.

“So good, so tight for me.” He grunts as his thrusts stutter, he can’t last much longer. You're sucking him back in every time he tries to pull out even a little. Sweat pours down his body, making his bulging muscles glisten as he lifts your legs above his broad shoulders. Deep, he’s in too deep, too hot, too wet-

“NANAMI~!” He’s so big, hitting your cervix every so often and making you scream loud enough for the neighbors next door to hear. Again, you’re being hit over and over by each strong wave of pleasure, trembling under him from every orgasm.

He’s in your womb, stirring your queasy stomach like he’s mixing cake batter. The outline of his massive cock pokes from your stomach, his eyes narrowing at the sight of it. Just a little more, a little more and he’ll fill you up so much his outline will fade from your puffed skin. He grabs your ankles, pinning them down above your head as his hips slap against yours. The bed frame creaks and shrieks under his weight, headboard hitting the wall so hard it leaves cracks in the paint. Your moans fuel each frantic thrust until all he can do is tremble while stuffing you full with his semen, so full it spurts out of your gaped cunt and drips onto the sweat-soaked bed sheets. Your lips link together, sharp breaths leaking from sloppy kisses as you slump under him.

“So beautiful,” he rasps against your kiss-swollen lips. His hand gently strokes your bloated stomach as he chuckles. “Should we set up a nursery tomorrow since I’m off?”

“Maybe.” You laugh breathlessly, your fingers intertwining with his.

He carries you to your lavish bathroom, carefully sitting you in his lap in the bathtub so he can stay warm inside you. Nanami kisses dark marks he left on your neck, lathering your body in soap as you drift off. You’re asleep after a few minutes in the warm water, softly snoring against his chest. He chuckles quietly to himself, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your angelic face.

“I love you.” He whispers into your flushed ears, kissing your forehead.

Like my writing? Check out my Ao3!! This fic actually came from there and I decided to upload it here too.

Reblogs appreciated!!

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moonlightsolo · 2 years

Text

eddie the bloody-handed

summary: your boyfriend, eddie, sacrifices himself in the upside down to keep you and dustin safe- but when you finally go back for him, something else has taken his place.

pairing: vampire!eddie x female reader

warnings: graphic depictions of blood, death, angst, mourning of a character, major spoilers for vol. 2, kinda villain!eddie at the end but with good morals

note: said i was gonna take a long break, but i couldn't help myself when this idea came up. also thinkin about a part 2???

all you feel is pain. pain as your heart wrings in your chest, as if it will burst at any moment. pain from your lungs not allowing you to take a full breath. pain as your bones ache with grief while you scream out for your dying boyfriend, watching him choke out his last breath.

eddie's body sits limp and heavy in your arms, erratic pleas tumbling from your lips. your hands cup his bloodied face as sobs roll out one after another, searching his still face for any sign of life.

“no, eddie! please! wake up!” your voice echoes in the alternate dimension, coughing hoarsely from the phlegm building in your throat.

“we have to go. right now. nancy's plan didn't work." steve’s worried eyes come into view in front of you, wide and full of fear.

"why didn't you just run?" you cry out to eddie, fists desperately grasping at his leather jacket.

harrington stands up after you ignore him, taking a step behind you. his arms swoop under your arms to pull you up to your feet unwillingly, “what?! no!” your voice shrieks in protest. your legs kicking as you fight against his efforts, “steve, please!” you suck in a wheezy breath, your chest shaking and bottom lip quivering. with a grunt, you press a kiss against eddie’s still warm forehead.

before you’re overtaken by steve’s strength, you yank an arm away from his hold to run your fingers through eddie’s unruly hair you’ve grown to love, “i love you, my sweet eds.” your watery eyes blink out numerous tears above him. the liquid slides off your face and onto eddie’s cheeks, carving tracks through the blood and dirt dormant on his skin. your body goes slack, succumbing to the battle.

“i’m so sorry.” his voice cracks, the thunder rumbles above you two as your feet drag against the pavement. steve sniffles as he helps you up the stairs of the munson’s trailer, towards the gate in the living room. steve's emotions are getting the best of him. he would never want to do this to one of his best friends, if it wasn't a life or death situation.

the rest of the group has already climbed through with a new rope they found. the discarded one sits beneath the gate, causing the memory of eddie slicing it to save you and dustin to flash in your mind.

another hiccup tumbles from your lips. a wet sniffle honks from your nose in attempt to suck up the mucus leaking from your nostrils.

steve aids in helping you climb, his hands sitting respectfully on your waist. “steve… i can’t leave him.” you whimper quietly under your breath, pausing your climbing to glance down.

“i know, honey. i know, just- get through this part and we’ll come back for him. it’s not safe for us to be down here right now.” his thumb rubs your sides in attempt to comfort you, urging you to keep moving.

your head nods, taking a deep shuttering breath before continuing your climb. small puffs of strained breath fall past your lips until you’re flipped right side up, back hitting the mattress that’s laid out on the ground.

robin’s hand reaches out for you, helping you up to your feet to allow steve to fall through. the floor rumbles beneath your feet, making you second guess if you’re still in the upside down.

the things around eddie’s trailer begin to tremble, glass clatters and the objects on the wall swing. your eyes dart around at the people around you, their face mimicking your panic-stricken one.

“steve! hurry up!” nancy shouts at him through the portal, making him quicken in pace, “i’ll be right back!” you announce as you turn on your heel.

“no! y/n! shit- what is she doing? there’s an actual natural disaster happening right now!” robin rants, loud voice slightly cracking as she follows. your legs quickly carry you back to eddie’s room, but not without tumbling into the walls from the force of the ground shaking beneath you.

the modular home whines and cracks around you as your body frantically pushes through his door.

the smell of his familiar cologne, weed and tobacco instantly smacks you in the face. tears instantaneously fall down your face, you stumble up to his electric guitar sitting pretty on the wall.

“come on! we need to go!” dustin screams at you and robin from the other room. the urgency makes you reach out for the instrument, slipping the strap over your head.

the dresser falls forward, drawers clattering as they fall out onto the floor of his room. you lunge forward to catch it before it could hit the ground, robin runs up to your side to help you keep it steady.

“i think we really, really need to go. like right now, right now!” her voice is strained with panic.

“i can’t leave without some of his stuff.” you huff out, dropping to your knees to vigorously search through his pile of clothes on the floor.

you find two of your favorite band tees before standing up swiftly, snatching his cologne that has fallen to the ground on the way up. robin stands back to let the wardrobe fall, stumbling backwards to clutch your upper arm.

she starts to lead you down the hallway, but a fallen polaroid catches your eye. you reach down as you run out of the room, snatching the flimsy photo. your eyes glance over it, a teary smile coming to your face when you realized what it is.

eddie is laying down in his bed with you, arm around your shoulders as you hide your face in his chest. he’s playfully sticking his tongue out at the camera, his hand on your shoulder in a rocker gesture. your poor boy, oh how you wish he would have just ran.

“holy shit! holy shit!” robin screams, her hectic pace quickens even faster. her scared voice makes you follow her eyes to peer at the ceiling, seeing that the gate has spread down the hallway.

“come. on! come on!” harrington waves you down from the front doorway, screaming at you both to hurry up. robin practically flies past steve, hopping past the steps instead of using them.

your arm is tugged along with her, so you have no choice but to follow her movements. you slide into the middle seat of nancy’s car. eyes watching as the gate burns a hole right through the top of the beloved trailer.

once steve hops into the passenger seat, wheeler screeches out of the grass, punching the gas as she speeds out of the trailer park.

all three of you in the back turn around to watch the gate crack the home in half, spreading to the ground outside. your heart aches as all the memories you shared with eddie are destroyed- just like that. you sorrowfully turn back around, sinking in your seat as tears silently run down your warm cheeks.

“everything… is just gone…” you whisper out, fingernails digging into your knees caps through your jeans. dustin tackles your side with a hug, holding onto you desperately as he cries against your shoulder.

he didn’t even have to talk for you to wrap your arms around the boy, the silence in the car is deafening as you comfort each other.

the ride home is dreadful. the rest of the party was informed that max was taken to the hospital, and the town is completely destroyed from all the gates merging.

the next few days are even worse. half of hawkins population has been relocated to the high school. where you were involuntarily volunteered to help out, since it’ll be ‘good for you’ to get out.

you’re busy slumming out peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the people of hawkins, working in a machine-like routine. robin is occupied with vicki, and steve is somewhere folding clean donated clothes.

how is this supposed to help? it’s making you feel worse. you’d rather be absentmindedly strumming chords on the guitar instead of-

your running thoughts pause when you notice a crowd forming around the large windows.

the knife in your hand clatters to the table below you before you run past robin to push through the crowd. your heartbeat pounds against your ears, ignoring the clamor of the people you’re pushing out of the way.

you come to a clearing, noticing steve staring out the window in the front. you reach out to grip his shoulder to pull yourself to him, stumbling forward out of the packed crowd. his hand instinctively grabs yours to bring you closer to him, holding onto you protectively.

when you’re close enough, you finally realize why everyone has gathered. to other people, it seems like it’s snowing, but to you and your friends, the familiar upside down dust is floating freely in the air.

“steve…” you breathe out, hand gripping his just as harshly, “what’s going on?”

he turns his head, giving you a look that makes fear travel down your spine, “i think.. it’s merging with our world. another gate must’ve opened.”

the sound of another gate opening makes you perk up, mind cranking with millions of thoughts. steve realizes what just clicked in your mind, but he’s too slow to react. you’ve already pulled your hand away from him, and started pushing back through the crowd.

you need to find this gate in hawkins, you need to find eddie.

steve calls out your name repeatedly, not having the best luck weaving and bobbing through the crowds as he chases after you.

your feet take off in a sprint, dodging numerous children and people as you make your way through the maze of corridors in the high school. the area is heavily guarded by military personnel; which means you need to find a way past them.

you burst through the front doors of the school, trotting quickly down the steps. the door behind you bangs open, a panting steve emerging as he weakly screams your name.

you stop in your tracks, turning around to look at him with a stern glare.

“steven, you can either you help me, or you can ignore what i’m doing and go back to folding clothes.” you breathe out heavily, giving him an ultimatum.

he marches up to you, face twisted with frustration, “i don’t think you realize how dangerous it’s going to be to go back! i mean- seriously? there’s militia everywhere, they will shoot-!”

“you can lecture me all you want, harrington, but you will not change my goddamn mind.”

steve groans in annoyance, looking up at the darkened sky, “you obviously know i’m not going to let you do this by yourself, right?” he mutters, stressfully running his hand through his hair as he drops his head to stare at his feet.

a small grin curls up on one side of your mouth, your hands rest proudly on your hips, “i seriously love you, steve. now let’s go.” you slap your hand into his to pull him to your car but he doesn’t budge.

“we can’t do this alone.”

steve corrals robin and dustin from inside the school, gives nancy a call, but she refuses to help anyone go back into that hell. (that’s her exact words)

dustin knows exactly where eleven’s hideout is, so steve drives there with the help of dustin’s directions. the car rolls up to a very old, almost destroyed cabin.

the inter-dimensional dust seems to be thicker around this part, and there’s nobody to be found. “come on.” you usher, hopping out of the backseat to run towards the house. you knuckles rap against the wooden door, but to no avail.

you hop down the steps, ignoring the rest of them to run around back. you notice a trail that leads through the forest, so you opt to follow it; even with steve’s fatherly protests.

it seems like you’re going the right way since the dust is growing thicker, almost as if a gate is nearby. you come across a clearing, a grassy hill scattered with wildflowers. the scene behind it catches your eye, dark smoke billows into the sky from the cracked open earth.

it resembles a scene out of a fantasy book, like lava is spewing from the depths of the planet. the group is standing farther down the hill, surrounding something on the ground.

you run up to them, chest constricting with anxiety as you grow closer. there it is- the gate.

the people around you call your name in surprise from your arrival, but it falls upon deaf ears. every form of self-preservation is screaming at you to not jump through, but your heart aches for eddie; to find him and put his body to rest.

as you’re about to step through the gate, your body is held captive by someone gripping the back of your metallica t-shirt, “what do you think you’re doing?”

your head spins around to the person holding you back, seeing hopper, alive and well. “oh my god!” you shriek, throwing yourself at the man who quickly hugs you back with a hearty laugh.

“hey kid. how you doing?” his deep voice rumbles. this doesn’t seem real.

the floodgates let loose, tears soaking into his shirt. “i’m terrible.” you sniffle, wiping your nose with your hand, “my boyfriend… he- he died in there.” you point back at the gate with your lip quivering.

“i want to get him. bring him back to give him a proper burial. i just- i left him in there.” you sob, digging your face into his chest.

“hey, hey. i don’t think going back there is the best idea right now. we need a plan.”

you pull away from him, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, “i do have a plan. i’ve been thinking about it for days. i know what i need to do.” you pull away from him, turning on your heel to stare down directly into the gate.

it seems as if everything slows down around you. before you could decide if you want to jump into it, a tentacle from the gate whips out at your foot. the slimy extremity spirals up your leg to grip your body, pulling you harshly to the ground.

a scream leaves your mouth as you’re tugged towards the mouth of it, “no!” you yelp, scratching at the ground, dirt building up under your nails. you wanted to make this decision yourself, not to be forcefully taken in.

flashes of your friends running after your helpless body are seen between your head being hit repeatedly against the ground. your body is lashed around by the violent force of the creature as you fight against its efforts.

your strength is nothing compared to it, unable to keep yourself in your own world. the tentacle tightens it’s grip on your ankle as it pulls your body into the alternate dimension.

the thing detaches from you, throwing your body into the air as you scream into the oblivion. gravity takes over and you’re sent hurling towards the ground. your side slams into the solid terrain, your lungs left unable to work.

all the air is punched out of your body, instantly struggling to breathe as you army crawl away from the insistent tentacle. “augh- fuck.” you wheeze, unable to take a fully deep breath from the air being knocked out of you.

you roll onto your back, looking over at the gate that’s sealing up in the ground. the once colorful flowers around you seem to have molded and withered away, the sky is dark and menacing, lightning flashing red.

your consciousness seems to fade in and out, head twirling dizzily. you blink in attempt to clear your fuzzy eyesight, lungs finally regaining some strength.

your hand rests on your chest as you breathe in all the upside down grime. you close your eyes for a moment to try and relax, taking in deep and slow yet painful breaths.

something above you blasts air in your face, making you gasp and whip your eyes open. the dark silhouette of a large bat-like creature in the sky is shown by the flashing lightning.

adrenaline kicks in your nervous system, activating your fight or flight response. your legs scramble beneath you as the bat nose dives, and barrels down right towards you.

“shit shit shit shit!” you screech when you notice it growing closer, hands coming up to hide your face. it’s cold grasp embraces your body, trapping your arms by your sides and lifting you up into the sky.

the freezing air whips through your hair, your eyes hesitantly squint open to look around you. red flashes in the clouds you’re flying through, making your body tremble with fear. even with the cold temperature of the sky, sweat pools on the back of your neck.

the monster soars through the air, it’s fur slightly tickling your nose. since you’re pressed into it’s chest, you didn’t dare to look up at its face. you’re not dead… yet, so you decide to glance at your attacker.

it seems almost human like- it’s skin is soft, yet deathly pale, almost grey. it’s wearing a bloodied white shirt, it’s scarred sides in full view from the torn holes. you realize that it’s not fur, it’s curly hair that adorns it’s head.

oh my god.

the jawline, the hair, the ripped up hellfire club shirt…

“eddie?” you scream out over the loud wind in your ears. instantly, tears spring to your eyes as you wiggle in his grasp to bring one of your hands out. his tight grasp doesn’t budge, not letting you move as he traps you against his chest.

eddie drops beneath the clouds, making you squeal from the feeling in your abdomen. his arms tighten protectively around you before his wings widen, stopping the airflow to gently lower you both to the ground.

once your feet touch the grass, you stumble backwards to fully look at him. it’s eddie, but he doesn’t look like your eddie. his skin is much paler, clothes torn where he was bitten by the demo-bats, wings folded fingertips black with long dark nails, and leather jacket scuffed and ripped from his protruding wings.

“eds?” you call out his name again, stepping forward with your hand out. his head hangs, frizzy hair covering his face as he shakes and grips the roots at the top of his head.

“baby, please. look at me.” your voice whimpers out desperately, tears running down your cheeks.

“stay away!” he raises his voice, making you stop in your tracks. his shoulders quiver as he silently cries into his hands, “i’m a monster. i don’t want you to see me like this. why did you come back?”

you take another careful step towards him, waiting for him to tell you no before you take another one, “my love. you’re not a monster.” you mutter with a breathy laugh.

his head lifts up, looking at you with bright glossy red eyes instead of the dark brown ones you’ve grown so fond of. you stop to stare at him, looking over his slightly sunken cheeks. his perfect lips are still plump, and slightly pink.

“but i am.” he talks, flashing his pearly fangs in his mouth. the sight makes your blood run cold, but you refuse to let him know that it terrifies you.

“no, eds. you’re not.” you shake your head with a watery smile, reaching both your hands out for him. his bright eyes dart towards you, then to your hands then back down to his.

shakily, he lifts his arms so his hands were hovering above yours, fingertips grazing against each other’s. you slightly raise your hands, fingers wrapping around his slender wrists. the temperature of his skin is a great contrast to yours. it feels as if he’s been outside in the snow all day.

“i don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart.” his voice is timid, quiet and scared.

“you won’t. i know you won’t.” you let your hands travel up his familiar arms, feeling the muscles and once full veins under his skin. you let your hands travel to his waist, pulling yourself towards him to embrace his rigid body.

at first, he’s tense when your body presses into his, but he soon softens against your touch. he nuzzles his nose into your hair, letting out a relieved shaky breath. “god, i missed you so much.”

“eds, you died in my arms. i thought i was never going to see you again.” you mumble into his dirty shirt, voice muffled.

“i did, but i woke up once you left. i turned into... whatever this is,” he motions to his body, “think i’m part demo-bat, or somethin’.” he chuckles, fluttering his wings behind him.

“like kas the bloody-handed, from d and d.”

“kas?” he tilts his head back to look at you with a sly smirk, “hearing you say that was so sexy.”

“only learned from the best.” you bring your pointer finger up to poke his nose, making his face scrunch up.

“can i kiss you or will you bite me?”

“maybe i will… maybe i won’t.” he shrugs playfully, gripping your hips to pull you closer. his infamous smirk makes your stomach flutter with butterflies.

you stand slightly on the tips of your toes, craning your neck up to peck a wary kiss against his cool lips. he chuckles against you, dipping down to catch his lips with yours again.

the temperature sends a shock down your spine, goosebumps rising on the surface of your skin. his nails slowly drag up the back of your arm, making another shiver wrack through your body.

the sharpness of his fangs press into your bottom lip as he deepens the kiss, wiggling his tongue past your lips to press against yours.

eddie’s hands glide down your sides to rest on the swell of your ass, squeezing the plushy flesh there. his wings flap happily behind him, curling in around your bodies to shield you both from the surroundings.

you pull back from the kiss, eyes fluttering open to look around, noticing the fleshy wings circled around you. “eds, you’re so beautiful.” you stare up into his crimson irises, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek.

the boy nuzzles his cheek into your palm like a puppy, happy to be here with you in this moment. touching you, feeling your warm skin under his icy fingertips.

the crunch of footsteps behind you makes him tug you against his chest possessively, wings tightening around your body to hide you as he whips around towards the sound.

eddie lets out a loud hiss, showing his fangs at the aggressors in front of him. his eyes are intimidating, baring his teeth as he tries to ward off the intruders.

“hey, hey, hey!” someone attempts to calm him down, their voice deep and muffled by something. “we don't want to hurt you. we’re looking for someone! a girl. she came in here, did you see her?”

his eyes flicker between the people, muscles softening against you. his wings slowly unravel, letting you in view. when you turn on your heel, you don’t exactly recognize them at first.

two men are standing in front of you, clothed in protective gear, flashlights and weapons in hand and bandanas over their nose and mouth. “steve? hopper?” you breathe out, squinting to get a better look.

“hey, yeah- it’s us.” steve’s eyes flicker to eddie, looking fearful of the winged man. “harrington?” eddie calls out with a shocked tone, hands on his hips as he leans forward to stare at him for a moment.

“should’ve known by the hair.” he gestures with a twirl on top of his own head, “sorry, buddy.” he chuckles, “didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“what happened?” harrington asks, eyes raking over munson’s silhouette with a frightened look.

“long story short… those uh bats? turned me into a vampire, kind of thing.” he nods his head once he thinks he explained it good enough, pursing his lips awkwardly.

“y/n. we have to go. you can’t stay here, come on.” hopper waves his hand as he moves toward you.

your eyebrows furrow, taking a step towards eddie. “i’m not leaving him. i just got him back.” you wrap your arms around his side.

eddie pulls you in protectively as hopper sighs and takes another slow step towards you both, “i don’t want to fight with you, let’s just go. it’s not safe.”

“excuse me. i don’t know who you are, but she says she doesn’t want to go, and frankly, i don’t want her to either.” eddie grows more and more protective by the moment, upper lip slightly twitching as he yearns to snarl.

the man completely disregards eddie, “did you not hear me correctly? it’s. not. safe. you can’t be breathing in all this shit for a long period of time.” hopper grows impatient, his broad shoulders huffing.

steve is behind him, eyes darting nervously between everyone as he stays quiet. “you gonna help me, or what, kid?” hopper shouts back at steve who clears his throat and steps forward.

“yeah, uh. you should probably listen to him.”

“or what?” you snap back, chest rising and falling quicker as anger brews deeply inside of you.

“or i’m going to drag your ass out of here.” jim states, obviously loosing his cool.

“over my dead body.” eddie steps forward, almost chest to chest with the taller man. his fangs slightly show as he finally snarls at him.

hopper let’s out a chuckle, but not one that’s sounds like you just told him a joke. “huh, okay.” his hand rests on the weapon in the holster of his waist.

“eddie. get us out of here.” you whisper up to your boyfriend, in fear for both of your safety. “hold on tight.” his arms wrap around your waist as he launches himself from the ground and into the air.

“hey?! hey!” hopper and steve yell at you both, watching from the ground as eddie disappears into the clouds.

your body shivers from the below freezing temperatures of the high altitude, gripping his body for some sort of solace.

“hold on, baby. tryna find your house.” he dips beneath the clouds, eyes looking over the area until he finds your home. he drops to the ground, leading you up to your doorstep.

eddie pushes open the front door, letting you walk inside first before following behind. he locks the door behind you both, letting you look around at your home.

“it’s like mine… but different.” you breathe out, walking up the steps to find your room. eddie folds his wings behind his back as he follows you up the staircase.

the door to your bedroom is already cracked open, letting you slip inside easily. the bed is messy and thankfully not covered in vines, “i’ve been staying here. since mine got destroyed by the giant gate.” he clears his throat awkwardly, watching you as you peer at all your familiar things.

“can you sleep?” you ask, turning to look at him leaning against the doorway.

“nope, i tried.” he huffs, rolling his eyes, “doesn’t mean i can’t cuddle with you while you do.” his eyes perk up, awaiting for your answer with a little smile.

“of course, darling. you can always cuddle me.” you plop on the bed, patting the empty space beside you.

eddie sulks up to you, sinking into the soft mattress. “you know, i tried to leave through a gate and it burned me. i mean, i healed quickly, but it hurt like a mother-fucker.”

your worried eyes flash to him, “wait- you can’t leave?”

he shrugs in response, gulping when he notices your emotions growing stronger, “don’t worry ‘bout it right now, babe. we’ll get henderson down here and that nerd will figure something out.” he wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you down into the bed.

“but for now, get some rest, okay? i can tell you’re tired.” he tucks you in under the blankets along with himself beside you.

he stares down into your eyes as he slightly hovers above you, “everything will be okay.” he pecks your lips with a reassuring smile.

“you’re right, we’ll figure something out.” you give him one last kiss before succumbing into his side, nuzzling against him to get comfortable enough to be able to fall asleep.

one of his wings sneaks underneath you, wrapping around the side of your body like a canopy. he absentmindedly presses soft kisses to your face, enjoying watching you sleep.

“i love you.” he whispers to your sleeping self, before he begins to press kisses down to your jaw, making his way to your neck.

eddie let’s his cold tongue poke over your jugular vein, feeling the heartbeat pumping blood through your body. his mouth salivates at the feeling, knowing you’ll be so tasty. you’re his girl, everything about you is tasty.

he’s careful not to wake you up while he drags his fangs across your soft skin. every bone in his body aches to feed, to sink his teeth into you.

the animalistic urges take over, eyes tearing up from being unable to control himself. a hoarse hiss emits from his mouth, making you jolt awake. he presses his nose into your skin as you wake up, “eddie?” your pretty voice whispers out to him, pushing against his chest but he doesn’t budge.

he trembles in your arms, lips opening to mouth at your skin, “eddie, you’re scaring me, baby. get off.” you whimper, pushing more aggressively against him.

“i’m so sorry. i just- i can’t be without you... please forgive me. i love you.” he weeps softly in your ear.

his words makes you go still, eyes going wide when you realize his fangs are pressing into your skin. “eddie!” you yelp once the pain grows hot on your neck, pushing your hands roughly at his chest.

a cry tumbles past your lips, his wings curl around you to hold you steady. his strength is no match against you as he slurps at your delicious blood.

the thick warm liquid hits his tongue, an almost orgasmic moan gurgles out against your neck, “eddie, please!“ your cries grow softer as more blood is drained from you.

the hits against his chest slowly fade to nothing as you go limp in his arms. he pulls back instinctively with a gasp, wiping his wet mouth on the back of his hand.

he cups your face once he realizes what he’s done, “i’m so sorry, baby. i’m so sorry.” he wails above you, wiping at the seeping blood on your neck with his hand. his thumbs swipe under your eyes to dry up your tears.

“you’ll wake up soon, sweetheart. everything will be okay.”

tags: @authorlovers @powerfultenderness

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #vampire eddie munson #vampire au #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things spoilers #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #eddie munson fic #vampire eddie au #kas the bloody handed #dungeons and dragons #eddie the bloody handed

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exhaslo · 4 months

Text

Puzzle Pieces Ch10

(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9

Warning: Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, blood, murder, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex, shower sex, praise

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You were trapped there again.

Afraid.

Your body was already shaking, just anticipating the heavy footsteps once that creaky door opened. Your breathing hitched as those thoughts became reality. The loud creak made you stumble as you hurried to the kitchen.

Swiftly, you tried to stop your hands from shaking as you prepped a plate. Tears were rolling down your cheeks as you heard a heavy bag hit the floor. Your heart was about to burst out of your chest. You couldn't focus and because of that...

CRASH.

"Fuck, woman." Eddie hissed.

You started sobbing and apologizing as you attempted to clean up your mess. His footsteps grew louder and harsher as they drew closer to you. Your breathing stopped as Eddie appeared in front of you. A harsh scowl on his face as he looked down at you.

"Tch, so useless. Clean this shit up and get my dinner ready. I got to head out again soon." Eddie spat as he gave you a swift kick to your stomach.

"S-Sorry....hn...I-I'm so s-sorry." You sobbed, holding your stomach in pain as you kept cleaning.

"Can't believe I got stuck with you."

---------

"I'm sorry!" You gasped, crying as you awoke.

It was hot. You felt sweat all over your body as you scooted off your bed. Another nightmare about him. This was the first one you had since you officially dated Miguel. Unable to stop shaking, you hurried to your living room and grabbed a puzzle.

It had been two weeks since Halloween night. You were happy with Miguel. Everything was going so smoothly, so why. Why were you having nightmares again?

"It's s-so l-late...I-I...d-don't...want...want to bother...." You sniffled lowly, shaking as you reached for your phone.

Miguel had told you to call him whenever you needed to calm down. He was so understanding. Shuddering as you felt your chest tighten, you hesitated to press on Miguel's name. It was almost midnight. What were the chances that he was awake?

-------

Miguel sat alone in a dark room. The only visible thing were his eyes that seemed to have a red glow to them. An echo of a tap was heard until the door creaked opened. Miguel exhaled softly as he watched Miles and his little crew enter.

"Still nothing?" Miguel's tone was more than annoyed.

"Our lead got us nowhere. The best we can do is just keep watching the supermarket." Peter stepped in. Miguel's eye twitched,

"Why is it so hard to find one man?"

"Well, to be fair, we're always fighting someone so our attention isn't that focused on this one dude," Gwen sighed and glanced at Miles, "Maybe we can draw-"

Miguel slammed his fist against the desk. His glare more prominent than normal. Everyone took this as a sign to leave. Not before apologizing to Miguel first. Once they were all gone, Miguel hissed lowly as he grabbed a bottle of whiskey from under his desk.

Right as he poured the liquid into a glass, Miguel growled at the sound of his phone. It was late and Miguel was ready to go home, but of course, that new pest of a mafia group had to cause trouble. This new Venom group was going to be destroyed one way or another.

"(Y/N)?" Miguel whispered as he saw your name on his phone, "It's late, Conejita (bunny), why are you still up?" He lowered his voice for you.

"I...I had a n-nightmare," You whimpered.

Miguel's eyes soften as he leaned back in his seat. Your voice was scratchy and low. You've been crying. That and your stuttering was pretty bad. Oh, how he wished you were in his arms right now for him to comfort you.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Miguel glanced at his watch, his own exhausted eyes drooping slightly,

"N-No...I...I just...j-just need to c-calm down. I-I like...h-hearing y-your voice." You whimpered softly. Miguel inhaled deeply as he found the energy to stand,

"I'll be there in a bit, amor (love). Don't worry."

"O-Okay,"

Miguel smiled softly as he heard the relief in your tone. He hung up, then immediately called his driver. Despite still having a lot of work to do, Miguel was going to call it a night. He can have his men and women do his dirty work for now.

Miguel needed his relief.

----------

You played with your sleeves as you fixed up your place. It helped you clear your mind a bit since Miguel was coming over. Hurrying to the bedroom, you doublechecked his spare clothes. Since you started dating, you bought Miguel some cozy clothes in case he ever decided to stay over again.

You were always the one to sleep over at his place.

Feeling your cheeks burn, you shook the thought away and hurried back to the living room. Miguel was going to come over any minute now. You needed to finish your puzzle.

'Pick up this shit! What are you a fucking child?'

Your breathing shuddered as the voice screamed from the back of your mind. You held the small piece in your palm, unable to stop shaking. Your sleeves slowly rolling down, revealing the scars you gave yourself as a means of escape.

'Do you have ANY FUCKING IDEA how fucked I'll be if you tried to fucking kill yourself? Don't be a stupid little bitch!'

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you sobbed once more. Why did his voice have to come back and haunt you? Why was he such a poison in your mind? Eddie was a venom. Eating away at your soul until you were nothing left.

"(Y/N)?" Miguel knocked against your door.

Quickly, you hurried to him. You tackled Miguel, wrapping your arms around him as you sobbed into his chest. With ease, Miguel picked you up and carried you into the bedroom. You didn't want to let him go.

"What's wrong, (Y/N)?" Miguel asked, sitting you on the bed. He noticed a pair of clothes set aside for him, "Hm?"

"I-I k-keep hearing...h-his...his voice. I-I can't..." You tighten your grip against his jacket, "I-I'm sorry. S-Sorry I'm a burden."

"But you're not," Miguel sighed softly and lifted your chin, kissing your tears away, "He is no longer in your life. Y estoy planeando matar al cabrón por ti, mi conejito. (And I'm planning on killing the fucker for you, my bunny)."

"Mhm, M-Miguel..." You whispered, only understanding the 'bunny' part, "Um...I, um...I got you some comfortable clothes...to s-sleep in. W-Would you like s-shower first?"

"Only if you join me,"

You bit your lower lip and slowly nodded. Honestly, just having Miguel here was calming you down. Following Miguel into the bathroom, you helped set the water and squeaked softly as Miguel already started to get undressed.

You followed suit, still hesitating with your clothes. Miguel approached you, his hands gently holding your waist. You closed your eyes, finally removing your shirt. Miguel responded with a hum and proceeded to kiss you,

"My beautiful girl," He whispered, slowly pulling you into the shower with him.

Your heart fluttered every time Miguel complemented you. Your shower was small, so your bodies were pressed against each other. Miguel had you in his embrace, his head resting against the crook of your neck as the warm water hit his skin.

"(Y/n), whenever you think of that asshole, I want you to remember that I'm taking care of you now," Miguel whispered in your ear as his hands stroked your sides, "That I cherish you for the wonderful woman you are."

"M-Miguel," You whispered, feeling your back pressed against the wall.

You whimpered softly as Miguel started to kiss and nibble at your neck and shoulder. You slowly wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders as Miguel lifted you up. You shuddered as Miguel started to grind his hips into yours, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

"Call out of work tomorrow, amor. Let me spoil you."

"B-But...mhm, I-I can't...c-call out again." You whimpered softly, resisting a moan as Miguel's dick slid against your folds, "M-My...b-b-bills"

"I'll take care of everything," Miguel hummed, making his marks on you, "You deserve a break. Let me take care of you."

"M-Miggy," You moaned as his tip poked your hole.

You arched your back against the wall, giving Miguel more space to mark you. He hummed in response, his fingers slowly rubbing circles against your clit. The heat of the shower was fogging your mind as you started to give into the pleasure.

"That's right, let me take care of you." Miguel hummed, stealing your lips in a kiss as he gently slid his dick inside you.

"Mhpm~"

Your legs tighten around Miguel's waist as he started to thrust into you. His gentle yet rough thrusts sending you to nirvana with each slap. Whimpers and moans were coming out loudly as you clenched around Miguel's cock.

Every time Miguel fucked you, it made you remember the difference between him and your past relationship. Miguel was far too good for you. Gasping, you fell victim to an orgasm with another simple rough thrust from Miguel.

"Gooooood girl. That's right, you're doing so good for me," Miguel groaned, his thrusts getting a little faster and harsher.

You flung your head back, crying out as Miguel kept hitting your sweet spot. Your hands were gripping his hair, your head resting against his shoulder.

"Miggy~"

-------

Miguel grunted as you kept clenching around his dick. Your blissed out expression gave him full to keep going. You were doing better giving yourself into him. Miguel just needed you to realize that you didn't have to work anymore.

That you could live with him.

Hearing loud knocking from against the shower wall, Miguel chuckled darkly. Seems like his shy bunny was being too loud for your neighbors. You didn't even notice as Miguel drew another orgasm out of you.

"Let's take this to the bed," Miguel chuckled.

Still holding onto you, Miguel turned the water off and brought a towel. He placed the towel on the bed before laying you on your back. His harsh and rough thrusts continued as he pressed you into mating position.

"I'll treat you like the princess you deserve to be," Miguel grunted as he unloaded inside of you.

"M-Mig..." You breathed out, "P-Please...K-Keep going,"

Miguel just chuckled as he kissed you deeply. Your cute fucked out expression just begging for more. Miguel flipped you on your stomach, pressing himself against you back. You whimpered and moaned as his rough thrusts continued.

"Ah, sabe tan bien. Eres mi dulce conejita en celo, ¿no? ¿Quieres que te dé una razón para ser mía? (Ah, taste so good. You are my sweet little bunny in heat aren't you? Want me to give you a reason to be mine?)" Miguel whispered, falling into his own lust.

Miguel pressed his hand against your back, watching you grip the bed sheets. Your moans filling his ears like music. Your sweet pussy dripping and sucking his dick, forming a white ring around his cock. Your moans were almost pornographic as Miguel finally let loose.

"I'm going to treat you so well tomorrow. I've had such a long day." Miguel whispered in your ear, "Going to make you forget all about what hurts you."

"Miguel~!" You cried out, collapsing after a harsh orgasm.

Miguel sighed softly as he finished. Another grunt and a moan, Miguel gave you one last load of his cum. A loud sigh escaping his throat as relief washed over him. As he pulled out, Miguel smiled at his work once more.

You were fast asleep, your body twitching softly with his marks all over you. Miguel put on the clothes you got him and proceeded to wipe you down. He found some new pajamas for you and got you dressed before finally climbing into your bed.

"Not the best way to comfort her, but this works too," Miguel told himself before falling asleep.

---------

"Took forever, but we finally had time to get here." Eddie huffed as he stood in front of the supermarket you worked at, "Now to take back what belongs to me."

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next chapter

@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190 @jazzyj1011 @mcmiracles @innercreationflower @spoderssimp @thel0velykey190 @moonvoidpng @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @scaleniusrm @love4saturn @nyxgoddessofchaos13 @slutty-chronicles @ghstypaint @migueloharastruelove @brainmatterdump @a060403 @trendyharold @yannauauau @kimivixen @angel-xx-1 @nxrdamp @miguelzslvtz @lynxslokley @wafflefries786 @pochapo @what-the-jams @flaps200 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii @nakimushiohime @tojishugetiddies @aya-world @supercowgirl04 @mysteris-things @daisy-artfield @mcmiracles @alexa4040 @llama--drama @kpopscoups17130000 @havkjhdecs @ruexvn @tojishugetiddi @openup-yourmind @black-swan-blog27 @xstarsdiary @kiddisquacking @gachagator @yujyujj @emmyrxx @blackteamint @sockears @black-swan-blog27 @soraya-daydreams @byjessicalotufo @nanoinn @bunnibitez @aockskcw @l3laze @dimitri-needs-therapy

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x you

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ectologia · 5 months

Note

have you ever tried a makeup smear fic? one where the yandere makes her wear like lipgloss and eyeliner then smears it over her face like she’s lowkey a whore lmao

♱ ˖ ࣪࿐ 𝒫𝒜𝐼𝒩𝒯𝐼𝒩𝒢 ؛ 𝓀𝒶𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓀𝒾 𝒷𝒶𝓀𝓊𝑔𝑜𝓊

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 ؛ dubcon ﾉ noncon ﾉ humiliation ﾉ mocking ﾉ forced cunnilingus ﾉ name calling ﾉ bullying ﾉ crazy bakugou ﾉ mean bakugou ﾉ profanity

“Awh, look at you..” Katsuki coos, popping the cap of your eyeliner and holding it between his teeth. Your eyelids are pulled back to the hilt by his thumb, leaving you a teary mess as he oafishly free hands a string of ink across your lash-line. He pulls away with a triumphant grin, admiring his handy work as you blink away the black seeping into your pupils. The dainty pen is snapped in his fist, discarded onto the floor much like the rest of your make-up, shades of pink and brown left crushed into your carpet with their cases in fragments.

“Who’s a pretty girl?” He sneers, ruffling your hair with a big palm before taking hold of your bound ankles.

The metal clinks as he tugs the chains over his neck, allowing your trembling feet to rest on his shoulders, gracing you no escape.

“Wish I could say the same about this filthy little muff though..” Katsuki tuts, pressing your pussy-lips down to inspect your distorted hole. He slides a finger through the sticky webbing, flicking off at your clit. “Tsk.”

You don’t get a chance to reply before he’s dipping down, snorting like a pig. Engulfing with teeth and a fat tongue as he sticks it to your wet slit. Immediately, he’s shaking his head side to side, nuzzling his creased nose into your swollen bud as he sucks on your cunny hole with an unjust violence.

You cry out an incoherent plea, writhing in the stained sheets smudged with concealer and lipstick, the same colours he’d just finished caking your face in previously.

His head bobs up and down, routinely hacking a glob of foamy saliva onto your folds only to slurp it back up again.

“There we go...” He scrubs his chin of any fluid, sniffing his fingers as-well in a subtle fashion. “Nice ‘n’ sloppy.”

He stays preoccupied with slapping his heavy cock-head against your twitchy clit, even as you snivel into your shoulder, wincing and jerking beneath the heavy weight of his tip spanking your puffy pussy up and down. Pearly teeth bare at the wet splatters that jump from where you connect, spitting back up at him.

“You gonna’ behave?” He questions, leaving his stiff erection to flop onto your stomach as he raises two hands towards your face. Your skin is rolled and tugged on by a set of invasive digits, smudging black clouds of ink from your eyelids to your ears. “You gonna’ be a good little prostitute for me?”

You can’t feel your toes where they’ve gone numb from their ascended position, kicking up into the air as he sheathes his length into the pocket of your choke-hole.

Even as you scream raw from your throat, he can’t help but froth at the pair of pink glossy lips crying out for him. All shiny and glistening in the light, specks of glitter jumbled about inside the glass-like coating that paints them corner to corner. It turns him on, the thick globules of transparent gloop looking all to familiar to something else.

He’s compelled to spread the stickiness around, creating an exaggerated ark over what would usually be your smile, leaving a stripe of gloss in it’s wake.

“Awh..” He chuckles through his nose. “Such a lil’ cutie, you like getting your pussy fucked? Yeah you do, look at that smile.”

“Ngh.. ‘suki..” You keen, jostling the chains keeping your leather-cuffed wrists pinned to the headboard.

“Oh, ‘suki! ‘suki!” He mimics you as you sob, turning his mouth down and squinting his eyes in the same pitiful way you do, only without the crystalline tears dragging pounds of blush and bronzer down your cheekbones. “Please make love to my pussy harder!.. Yeah? ‘s that what you’re tryna’ say you little bitch?”

Even as you shake your head, he ignores you. To busy flicking at the artificial eyelashes he’d shoddily stuck to your lash-line, dramatic and bold like butterflies, nothing you’d ever dare to wear yourself, were it your decision.

“Please Katuki! It hurts, you’re hurting me!”

Your attempt to reason with him falls on deaf ears.

“Oh, I’m hurting you am I?” He only responds by pressing your knees back further. “Good.”

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dark-fics-4-you · 9 months

Text

No Way Out ch. 2

Dark!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader

Warnings: noncon, smut, abusive relationship, domestic violence, verbal abuse, drugs, choking

Things escalate in your relationship with Rafe to a boiling point

Blinding rage was the only thing that Rafe could focus on in the small jail cell.

He paced around the cramped space like a caged animal, ready to pounce on anything that walked by the door.

The past day was all too fresh in his mind, replaying like a loop that only fed into his need to get out.

“I’m just worried about how much blow you’ve been doing, Rafe! It’s not good for you.. It just makes you so much more-”

“So much more what?” He snapped back at you and you bit your tongue.

“I don’t know.”

“I think you do.”

“So much more angry,” you timidly replied. “You aren’t yourself when you’re using, baby.”

He rolled his eyes in annoyance, shaking his head with a scoff. “You don’t know what it’s like, Y/N! You don’t get how hard I have to work just for my dad to see what I am capable of. If you had any idea-”

“Oh, if I had any idea how hard it to have a rich dad?” You couldn’t stop the sarcasm from cutting through your voice.

“Watch it,” Rafe growled, a dangerous tone in his voice. You didn’t notice how close he had gotten to you.

“I just don’t think your daddy issues give you an excuse to be doing coke all the fucking ti-” before you could even perceive his movement, you felt a sharp sting blossom across your cheek and you vaguely registered that he had slapped you. Your head whipped to the side, tears springing up immediately.

Completely taken by surprise, you had no time to react before he shoved you to the ground. You fell hard backwards, hitting your elbows and bottom on the floor beneath you. You cried out in pain, cowering away from your boyfriend as he leered above you.

“Talk to me like that one more time and see what fucking happens,” he seethed. He lurched forward and grabbed your wrists with both hands, clenching hard and you let out a sob.

“You should consider yourself lucky!” sneered the blond. “I pay for everything you have! You would be out walking the streets without me.”

His breathing was heavy, but he hadn’t even broken a sweat yet. You shrieked when he yanked you to your feet by your throat, shaking you hard.

Your arms flailed out at his hands, clawing at them and trying to pull him off but it was no use. You gasped for breath, crying out as his fingers dug into your throat.

“P-please-!” Precious air that was running out fueled your pleading. Rafe’s eye twitched, lip curling before he pushed you back to the ground.

Gulping for breath between sobs, you glanced up at the man towering above you in fear. His hand was clenched in a fist, eyebrows furrowed as he shook with rage.

You were terrified by how hard he had choked you, the utter lack of regret in his eyes.

In the early days, fights like these were rare, and on the off occasion that he had laid a hand on you, it was never as intense, and the apology that followed was always 100x longer than the brief fight. Nowadays, you rarely even got an apology.

With a scowl, he examined his arms where you had scratched him and his darkened eyes met yours.

You didn’t fully know why you did what you did next. Or how it unfolded.

Maybe it was instinct. Maybe you were out of options, just so afraid that you did what any trapped animal would do.

You ran.

You pushed yourself off the floor in an instant, rushing out of the living room to the bathroom.

Rafe was bigger than you, stronger than you. Faster.

It was dumb luck that his reaction time was just a moment too slow.

You slammed the bathroom door, locking it behind you as fast as you could. Your heart thundered in your chest, thumping so hard you could hear the blood rushing in your ears.

The door behind you rattled as Rafe punched and kicked at it.

“Open the fucking door, Y/N!!” His fists pounded against the wood and you cowered as far from the door as you could.

Your mind was racing and only then you remembered the cell phone in your back pocket.

With shaky hands, you unlocked it, clicking the phone icon before dialing emergency services.

“Let me in! Open the fucking door bitch!!” He bellowed again. You winced every time the door shook, terrified he was going to knock it off it’s hinges. “I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Quietly, you begged with the operator to send someone, giving your address to the woman on the phone.

“Please! He- He’s trying to break the door down,” you sobbed. “I’m scared he’s going to hurt me o-or worse!”

“Y/N, I swear to god when I get in there, you’re going to be sorry!” Rafe roared from the other side of the door. He cursed when he hit it too hard, apparently injuring his hand.

You couldn’t do anything but hide in the corner, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to get in before the cops arrived.

Sitting there on the floor felt like hours, but it was probably only a few minutes before you heard a pounding on the front door and you nearly passed out with relief.

The activity outside of the bathroom door stopped suddenly as Rafe realized what was happening. He cursed, loud enough for you to hear, but not nearly at the same volume before.

You knew it was safe to step out of the bathroom when you heard him greet the people at the front door. You brushed the tears from your eyes, trying to compose yourself.

“Good evening officers, what can I do for you tonight?” He was trying to act nonchalant, but there was a tense edge to his voice you couldn’t mistake.

You could hear muffled responses growing louder as you approached the door and you knew the officers must have noticed you, because the speaking stopped and Rafe turned to look at you.

Anger that only you could see flashed across his eyes, but even he knew better than to display it in front of cops. The blond stepped to the side to allow you to stand beside him, and he grabbed your hand lovingly as if to say, ‘look officers, everything is okay here.’

“Are you having any problems tonight ma’am?” One of the officers asked you with a concerned look.

Rafe’s grip on your hand tightened, warning you not to say anything. A lump formed in your throat. Did you even have it in you to say something?

With a sniffle, you plastered on a small smile, “N-no. We haven’t had any issues here.”

The officers looked slightly surprised at that, glancing at each other and exchanging a brief, wordless conversation.

“Well, procedure says that we have to interview you both separately.” One of them explained.

“This is just stupid,” Rafe complained. “I think we’d rather talk to you together, isn’t that right baby?”

Hesitantly, you nodded with lowered eyes, “Yeah.”

“Unfortunately, procedure is procedure, and we have to do it this way.” The woman explained, and her male partner nodded in agreement.

“How about I interview you,” she looked at you. “And my partner will interview you,” she said with a pointed look towards Rafe.

“Fine,” he spat out through gritted teeth, flashing you a warning look before he was led away to talk to the other cop.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you were left alone, and the cop gave you another concerned look.

“What’s your name honey?”

You told her.

“What happened tonight, ma’am?” She asked you gently and you almost broke down right there. Tears sprung to your eyes and you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

“I-I was so scared,” you confessed. Her eyes wandered to your neck, able to make out the old bruises and the redness on your cheek that had only started to fade.

“He just gets so angry at me and-” a sob cut you off, voice breaking as you remembered the fight. “H-he was choking me, and.. I didn’t think he was going to stop.”

The tears were flowing more now as you recounted what had happened, and the cop gave you a sympathetic look. Your hands fell in your lap and her attention was drawn to your bare legs which were littered with tiny cuts from when Rafe had pushed you into glass the previous week.

She paused before speaking, “Listen, I don’t know how it’s going with my partner, Michael and your boyfriend, but I would feel comfortable taking your boyfriend down to the station based on what you’ve told me. How does that sound to you?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. You didn’t really know what you had expected when you called. You were just so scared with what he might do, you did the only thing you could think.

And now you were faced with an impossible decision.

Agree with this and let them take Rafe, and he would be let out who knows when. But say no, and you would have to face the wrath of Rafe tonight, and you knew that he was more pissed off than you had ever seen him.

Without even knowing that you had made up your mind, you found your head nodding, tears coming to your eyes.

You would deal with Rafe later. But tonight, you were just happy with the idea of sleeping alone for the first time in months.

~~~~~~~

“And so you’re saying you two had an argument, but it never got physical?”

“No, I would never lay a hand on her! You heard her yourself, we haven’t had any problems tonight.” Rafe smiled, southern charm laid on thick. He had dealt with police many times before, and when they weren’t sticking their noses into shit that he was involved in, he respected them.

But he also knew how to manipulate them.

The cops eyed Rafe’s hand and the scratches on his arm.

“Get into a bar fight?” He questioned.

“Ah no, got into a little motorcycle accident. Nothing too bad, just fell over, you know how it is,” the blond chuckled.

“And you don’t know who made the call?” The officer raised an eyebrow as he questioned the blond.

“No clue. Maybe some kids in the neighborhood made a prank call or something,” he laughed casually, throwing a polite smile at the man across from him.

The officer chuckled, “yeah we do get a lot of those.” He clicked his pen, flipping his notebook shut. “Well, I think I’ve got all I needed from you. Thank you very much sir. And uh, tell your dad I said hi.”

“Will do,” Rafe grinned, extending a hand to shake the officer’s.

“You just sit tight here, I gotta talk with my partner real quick and then I’ll update you on what’s going on.”

He walked away from the taller man. Rafe leaned against a tree in the park at the middle of the sprawling apartment complexes watching him walk back.

Most of what they discussed, he couldn’t make out and the female cop turned to look at him several times.

The only thing he did hear was “Hey, do you know who this guy is? That’s Rafe Cameron. Yeah, that Cameron.”

Eventually they both walked over and Rafe stood up straight as they approached.

“So, are we all good here?” He asked, charming smile ever present.

“Well,” she said, looking over at her partner. “Not quite.”

~~~~~~

You locked the front door, the only door, dutiful to make sure all of the windows were locked as well.

You knew that Rafe was going to be in jail for a few nights at least, but you wanted to be careful anyways.

Last night had been the best you had slept in months. No fears of wandering hands, or unwanted advances that you had no emotional capacity for.

Slipping into your bed and being able to be safe while you slept was all you had dreamed about for so long.

You curled up in the blanket, unaware of the sound of the front door opening softly as you tried to drift off to sleep.

The click of your bedroom door opening had you jolting awake though. And you were shocked to see a familiar figure leering in the doorway.

“H-h-how the fuck did you get in here?” You whispered in a panic, sitting up and alert in bed.

“Oh sweetheart, you didn’t think I had a spare made?” His tone was ice cold and mocking. You could almost feel the rage radiating off of him.

Rafe took a step into the room, closing and locking the door behind him and your stomach dropped.

“How are you here? You got taken away, I- I saw it,” you didn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Ward pulled a few strings, can’t have a stain on the Cameron name,” he spat out bitterly. Rafe stalked further into the room, nearing your bed, a predatory look in his eyes that almost stopped your heart.

Your eyes whipped to the phone on your bedside table and you lurched toward it at the same time that he did.

“Nuh uh. Not this time, sweetheart.” He wrestled with you, hands grabbing at the phone that he wretched from your grasp.

To your horror, he threw your phone against the wall, and you watched it smash to pieces.

Your only lifeline was gone.

You fought back hard against him, but the victor was inevitable. You both knew it from the minute he stepped into the room.

He threw you onto the bed, roughly grabbing at your thin nightwear. He tore your blouse, hands ripping the material as you hit him, trying desperately to stop his assault.

“Stop- stop fucking fighting!” He roared as he kicked your legs open, fumbling with his shorts and your crying intensified.

His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing hard as he forced himself into you. You let out a strained gasp at the feeling, head falling back against the pillow in shock. Rafe pinned you down against the bed by your throat, cock sliding in and out of you at a torturously fast pace.

“You thought you were gonna get rid of me that easy, Y/N?” Rafe jeered as he snapped his hips against yours. The pressure at your throat increased, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Are you really that stupid?”

You shook your head, tears falling past your lashes. Thoughts jumbled inside your head, the cloud of fear and arousal confused you.

“You got what you wanted. You called the cops, and they aren’t gonna help you,” his lip curled in sadistic pleasure as he belittled you.

His free hand found your wrist, pinning it to the bed as he twisted it painfully. You tried to turn your face away from him when he came close, but he grabbed your chin, holding you in place as his lips smothered yours. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth, lips moving against yours against your will.

A sick feeling was growing in your stomach, the sinful combination of pain and pleasure mixing within you.

Every thrust of his cock had you gasping and moaning against his lips. Your legs shook as he took his anger out on you, plunging deeper and harder than ever before.

The grip at your throat was getting harder, constricting your breathing even more. You gasped when he finally pulled his face away.

“You could have ruined everything,” Rafe seethed. Your teary eyes meant nothing to him. Nauseatingly, you realized that this was a punishment because you had dared to try to leave. Dared to say anything.

“I love you so much, Y/N. You know I do. You know I do. And I’ll be dead in the ground before I let you walk out on me.” He was fucking you frantically now, every thrust a cruel promise of his threats.

When he hit that spot that made you see stars again and again, you came undone. You bit your lip, crying out as your orgasm washed over you. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, shame burning across your face, conflicted by your body’s reaction.

“Fuuck-” Rafe groaned loudly as you squeezed around his cock, and he came hard, pumping his hot load deep into your sore cunt, before he began to move his hips again.

And when his hungry, piercing eyes met yours again, you knew that the night was far from over.

#rafe cameron #outer banks #dark!rafe cameron #obx #dark rafe cameron #no way out #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron noncon #rafe cameron x reader

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animasola86 · 6 months

Text

Lessons in Love-Making

Notes: So I received an amazing request recently and this is what I made of it! I hope you enjoy! (If you like to give me smut requests as well, please feel free to do so! My inbox is open!)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Fluff/Smut

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Explicit sexual content! Assisted masturbation. Voice kink. Fingering. Sex. (Infidelity?)

Word count: 9.8k

Synopsis: To say you and your boyfriend have a poor sex life would be an understatement. One day after a particularly horrible experience, you find yourself crying in the hallway. And then Sebastian finds you, always eager to lend a hand.

Warning: It's smut time again! Yay! I mean, beware, there's some spice below the cut! Don't get it in your eyes!

-- can be read on AO3 too --

Lessons in Love-making

You are tense. So tense, your entire body is shaking. Gritting your teeth and clenching your hands into fists as you walk through the empty hallway, you are not surprised when the first tears roll down your cheeks. Because you are not just tense, you are frustrated. And you've been frustrated for quite a while now.

It always comes to you when you walk back to your common room, in that post-haze clarity, not that there had been any haze, there was fog, sure, perhaps a few lightning bolts and one clap of thunder, and the rain that should be soothing was just a little drizzle, if it came at all.

And if you had time to think of silly metaphors for your poor sex life, then it really wasn't that good apparently.

You let out a shuddering sigh and stop walking, too wound up to wipe at your wet cheeks. Too wound up to do anything and so you sink to the ground and just sit there, trying to ease your breathing and your drumming heart, trying to clear your head and not think of what has happened and what has been happening over the last months.

Soon you are so focused on creating your own personal pro and con list, that you shriek loudly when you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder. You jump and hit your head against the wall behind you, looking up with wide eyes and your mouth open.

“Sorry, didn't mean to startle you.”

And just like that your mind is empty. His voice makes sure of that. And that smile. Yet all you do is stare, while the tears still stream down your face.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asks as he settles down next to you on the floor.

You let out a sob and raise a hand to wipe at your tears, before you give him a shrug and half-hearted grunt of confirmation. He raises an eyebrow and watches you closely.

“What happened?” he inquires with that low voice that causes your tense body to shudder deeply.

You swallow and look away, unable to answer him right away. Even though he's been your friend for quite some time now and you've shared a lot of low and high points together and you know you can tell him anything, you feel embarrassed to address your frustration.

You feel him scooting closer and then his hand is on your knee. “Did he do something?” he asks and just the implication that your boyfriend could have done something bad to you makes you turn your head.

“No!” you say quickly, before you pause and let out a dry laugh. “That's the thing, really... he never does... anything...”

Sebastian tilts his head, frowning slightly as his dark eyes wander over your face. “He doesn't satisfy you, eh?” he then states and the brutal straight-forwardness of his words makes you wince.

You don't answer right away and that is probably answer enough. Sighing deeply, you look down at his hand on your knee, feeling his warm touch and how it affects you. And you shouldn't feel like this. Because you have a boyfriend and it is not Sebastian Sallow. You would add sadly, but in truth you are quite content with the boy that asked you to be his girlfriend almost six months ago.

You love talking to him, you feel safe in his presence, he makes you laugh and happy. But when it came to sex, he was really... bad. And for months you've just dealt with it, not complaining, just trying to be happy for him because apparently it was quite enough for his liking. And the sad truth is that you've accepted feeling unattended whenever he would find his release – and then fall asleep right after. You didn't even mind the pain any more, because quite frankly, it was the only thing you could count on whenever you would end up in bed with him.

Tonight has been especially bad, causing your ever-growing frustration to burst through the seams of your patience. And the tears that won't stop flowing are proof of that.

“Please don't mention this to anyone,” you whisper and wipe at your cheeks again. “It... it really is not that big a deal...”

“Are you sure about that?” Sebastian asks and gently grabs your chin to make you look at him. “This does look like a big deal to me...”

You shake your head and his hand away, sobbing quietly. “I'm just frustrated and it's okay, it'll pass, like always. It's silly, really, crying over something like that...”

“It's not, you have needs too. Everyone has. And you shouldn't just be his plaything...” he tells you quietly, his voice vibrating through your very core.

“I'm not! You know he's not like that...” you start defending your boyfriend once more.

The boy next to you watches you closely. “Perhaps you want to be his plaything, but he just doesn't comply.”

“Stop saying plaything, it's vulgar!” you hiss.

He laughs, the sound ringing in your ears. “I can be more blunt, don't worry,” he says and nudges your knee before he leans away and crosses his arms behind his head. “So why don't you take care of your frustration yourself?” he then whispers, his eyes on you.

You stare at him, a little puzzled, before it dawns on you what he means. Averting your eyes, you blush deeply. “I... uh, tried, but it wasn't for me...” you admit eventually under your breath. “It doesn't feel right...”

“Then you may have done it wrong,” he says and leans closer again.

Swallowing hard, you raise your gaze and meet his. “I think I know my body and what it... wants...”

“Do you though?” he asks with a sly smirk.

“Well, of course, it's my body!”

“But then why are you crying in the hallway because your sorry excuse for a boyfriend can't satisfy you the way you like it, hm?”

His words hang in the air, luckily only reaching your ears, and you look at him long and hard. The longer you stare into those dark eyes that practically sparkle in mischief, the hotter you feel, your cheeks positively aflame as they burn your tears right off your skin.

“I can help you,” he then says quietly, and the implication alone makes you lean back from him.

“What? No! I... I have --”

“Yes, I know what you have,” he sighs and tilts his head. “And I'm not saying you should cheat on him with me, okay? I just want to... show you something. Help you out. Fight that frustration with you. Make you feel better.”

His promises sink into your mind and leave you wanting exactly that. You know how good he is at manipulating you, not that you would call it that, he was just very convincing. Persuasive even. And this was for your own good, wasn't it? Like he said, you have needs too. And as you wipe at your burning eyes, you find yourself inhaling deeply, before you nod shortly.

When you look at him, you see his face lighting up, the faint shadow of dimples gracing his freckled cheeks. “Of course this will be purely educational,” he tells you with a wink as he gets to his feet and holds his hand out for you to grab.

When you do and he pulls you into a standing position as well, you bite your lip and square your shoulders. “Of course,” you agree.

“So tell me what you usually do with him,” Sebastian asks as you sit down on that old couch in the far back of the dimly lit Undercroft.

You feel embarrassed, but then you sigh. “Well, we sit on his bed and then we... kiss and that's quite nice,” you start, already defending your boyfriend again, almost unconsciously. “And he would touch me...”

“Where?” the boy next to you inquires.

You look at your hands in your lap. “He usually gropes my breasts, sometimes my hips,” you whisper, before you look at him and he nods to make you continue. “Then he'd lie on top of me --”

“Are you naked when he does that?” You wince slightly at the bluntness of his question and look away again.

“No,” you admit, your ears burning. “He... doesn't like being naked...”

Sebastian laughs loudly at that, before clearing his throat. “I'm sorry, I...” he says a little breathlessly, before he shakes his head. “So you just grope each other through your clothes? But you do have sex, right?”

You blush deeply once more and fidget with your fingers. “Well, yes, he would push my underwear off and... stick it in...”

You hear him stifle another noise of surprise or whatever you want to call that gurgle that escapes his throat and you start feeling a little more frustrated, but for a different reason. “And then what?” you hear him ask once he catches himself again.

“He'd...” You let out a groan. “Tell me again why it is necessary to share these things with you?” you ask and stare at him.

“Well I have to know what you already do know in order to teach you more,” he tells you with a smile. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ridicule your boyfriend, I'm sure he has other redeeming qualities...”

“He has!” you confirm with narrowed eyes. “That's why I put up with that, okay?”

He raises his eyebrows, then nods. “I see. So, please, continue, tell me what exactly he does that leaves you so frustrated.”

You sigh and inhale deeply. “Well, he... comes very quickly. He's barely in there before he... grunts, pulls out and comes all over my stomach...”

“He doesn't even finish inside?” Sebastian exclaims in surprise.

“Because he shouldn't!” you reply a little more agitated than you've expected.

“Why not? You do take those contraceptive potions, don't you?” He tilts his head, looking genuinely concerned now.

“Yes, I do, all the girls do, we are basically forced to. Nurse Blainey makes sure of that...” you whisper.

“But then why doesn't he come inside you?” he asks as if you were talking about what to eat for breakfast and he was really appalled by your choice of cereal.

You take a sharp breath and look away. “I don't know, he probably doesn't like it...”

“I bet he never even tried...” you hear him whisper. “Trust me, it's the best feeling...”

You swallow and look at him. His smile is both boyishly charming and devilishly sultry. “So you know your stuff, eh?” you whisper under your breath.

He laughs. “I do, love,” he says with a wink. “And I'm going to teach you a thing or two. If you let me,” he adds quietly.

You are intrigued, certainly. And you've already shared all those embarrassing things with him. Talking about more couldn't possibly hurt, right?

But you haven't taken into account that Sebastian Sallow was more for learning by doing than anything, so you suddenly find yourself sitting sideways on the couch, your legs lying on his lap as he gently pushes your skirt up to reveal your underwear. Biting your lip, you watch him.

“So how would you normally touch yourself?” he asks as he looks into your eyes, making it sound so easy and simple as if he wanted to know your favourite colour.

You blush and look down, moving your hand between your legs slowly. “I'd... rub right here...” you whisper and put your middle finger against the thick fabric of your bloomers, lightly teasing your heated skin.

“No skin contact?” You shake your head and he huffs quietly. “Love, you have to give your body room to breathe, let the air caress your skin, put your fingers right in there, properly feel yourself. May I?” he then asks and you look up in surprise when he gently grabs your hand.

You nod hesitantly and watch how he moves your hand against your centre, repeating the motion you just made, guided by his slender fingers pressing against yours. “Remember this feeling, okay?” He then grabs the waistband of your underwear with his free hand and without hesitation pushes your hand beneath the fabric until you feel your fingers gliding over your hot, wet skin.

You gasp and almost jerk your hand away if he wouldn't hold it. You can feel not only your fingers, but his as well, as he presses your hand firmer against your skin. “How does that feel?” he whispers and his voice alone makes you issue a tiny whimper.

Taking a shuddering breath, you feel him letting go of your hand, before he puts his fingers around the waistband of your underwear and in a swift and unexpected motion pushes it down your hips and off your rear and legs, and you barely even noticed him raising your body for that. Too shocked about his brash action to fully react to it, you instead focus on your hand resting on your exposed mound, your fingers teasing at your folds. Your first instinct is to cover yourself with your other hand, but you hear him shushing you softly.

His hand is lying on your thigh now, his touch warm and somewhat comforting. You bite your lip and look at him. With a smile he tells you: “Come on, don't be shy, touch yourself.”

Oddly enough you don't feel shy at all in his presence, a little taken aback maybe, but not shy. And so you start moving your finger over your skin, exploratively, literally testing the waters as you let it slide over your lower lips and then between them. After just a few rubs, you feel your breath accelerating.

“You might want to move your finger a little higher,” he whispers, his voice not only helping you calm down under the unusual task he's given you, but also helping you in other ways that are quite the opposite of relaxing.

You follow his advise and move your fingertip higher until you feel the little nub that causes your stomach to tense slightly when you touch it. You breathe loudly through your nose as you push your finger against it and start rubbing slow circles around it. Closing your eyes you focus on the sensation, until you feel a warm breath near your ear.

“That's it, keep doing that,” Sebastian whispers right into your ear after he has leaned closer to you, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your thigh. You open your mouth slightly and take a shuddering breath. “Feels good, right?” he continues, his voice causing goosebumps to ripple over your skin like waves. That or the steady movement of your finger. You feel your hips stuttering slightly, your thighs twitching with every push against that agitated bundle of nerves.

“Oh yes...” you moan softly and lean your head back, chewing on your lips as you work your finger against yourself. You feel a familiar tension, yet somehow it feels different, more intense, and you move harder and faster against that nub. As your body starts shaking badly, almost spasming, you feel his hand pressing on your thigh as if to calm you, or hold you in place, and in your desire to finally finish this you grab it with your free hand and close your fingers around his.

He holds onto your hand tightly and even scoots closer to you, lifting and parting your legs slightly as he does so, and then wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Almost there, love,” he whispers and you whimper under the sound of his voice, your eyes squeezed shut as you lean against him, furiously rubbing yourself. “You're doing so well,” he adds and his praise is what pushes you right over the edge.

You buck your hips and cling to his hand as you feel the coil that had been sitting in your stomach for so long, unattended and so tightly twisted it was almost painful, suddenly explode into a blindingly bright light. You gasp and cry out, your legs twitching as your toes curl up and you feel the blood rushing through your head while you hold your breath under the unknown feeling of your release.

As you slowly come down from your high, your fingers shaking against your heated skin, you feel him stroking your arm and squeezing your hand. “Well done,” he whispers and you feel his lips brushing against your hair. You are breathing heavily and when you open your eyes, you see him smiling at you. Your cheeks are flushed, your lips parted and trembling. You feel as if you've just run up several staircases.

“Was that your first orgasm?” he then asks and you just look at him, taking in his face, until the cold reality of the situation comes back to you. Blinking slowly, you squirm against him, but he holds you tightly, not letting you go.

“I... I shouldn't have --” you mutter under your breath, quickly looking away again, biting your lip.

“Oh you definitely should have, that was long overdue apparently,” he says quietly, shifting beneath you until he pulls you right onto his lap. You lean your shoulder against his chest and slowly look at him, fighting the embarrassment. “Don't be ashamed,” he whispers as he tilts his head, his dark eyes on you. “That was beautiful to witness.”

His words do the exact opposite of what he has intended, they don't reassure you, they make it worse. You look away with a hoarse groan, chewing nervously on your lips as you clamp your hands to your core and clench your thighs around them, too shaken still to think about just covering yourself with your skirt.

“Do you feel a little better at least?”

“A little,” you confess quietly.

“I'm sure there's more where that came from,” he then whispers, his lips right against your ear and you flinch and turn your head towards him with wide eyes.

“What do you mean?” you ask innocently, truly innocently because you just don't know any better.

He smirks at you. “You know, love, unlike men, who need a little time to gather themselves, women are capable of experiencing multiple orgasms in quick succession,” he explains almost matter-of-factly and you listen with blushed cheeks but growing interest. “Do you want to test that theory?”

You stare at him and lick your lips, still feeling the distant shudders of your last release, but you know he's right. You've been tense for so long, never able to let it all out, so why stop now? The harm is already done, you tell yourself and try not to think of the details of experiencing this whole thing with another boy while your boyfriend is probably fast asleep and happy about what you'd done earlier.

“Yes,” you tell Sebastian quietly and watch him smile wider at you. Without any warning, he then grabs your shoulders and turns you around until your back is pressed against his chest and you sit with your legs wide open astride on his lap, facing the vast space of the Undercroft.

“You can put your feet on the couch if you want, but keep those legs open, okay?” he whispers, his breath hitting your ear as he leans his head around slightly. You shift on top of him and gasp softly when he snakes his arms under yours and around your torso, grabbing the fabric of your skirt to ball it up more and push it out of the way.

“I can... take it off...” you mumble under your breath.

“If you want to,” he says and lets go of it.

You stand up then and suddenly feel your legs shaking beneath you. He quickly grabs your waist to support you and you inhale deeply to gather yourself. With shaking fingers you unclasp your skirt and push it off your hips until it drops to your feet. Stepping out of it, you then settle back on his lap and put your feet up like he told you to. You can feel the soft fabric of his trousers and slightly more as you shift your rear against him to find a comfortable position.

His hands now roam freely all the way to your legs, his thumbs teasing at your inner thighs. “I can assume you've never had a finger inside you?” he whispers against you and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

“Isn't it enough to have a --” Weirdly enough you can't say it, can't name it. You feel your cheeks blush even more.

“The word is cock, darling,” he tells you in that sultry voice that masks the vulgarity of his words so well. “Or dick or whatever you want to call it,” he adds with a chuckle. “Don't be afraid to name it. It won't bite. It's there for your pleasure, you know?” You squirm and make a low noise of embarrassment. He only chuckles again. “And you know, no, it's not enough to have a cock in your pussy. It is certainly the main goal, but there are so many other things you can use to pleasure yourself. Like your fingers,” he concludes and you feel your ears burning when you listen to him. He talks about these things so easily, it's almost impressive if it wouldn't be so lewd.

As you still chew on his words, he suddenly grabs your hand and guides it between your legs, his fingers on yours as he presses them against your folds that feel warm and wet under your touch. You inhale sharply and bite your lip. Feeling him rest his chin on your shoulder, his cheek rubbing against yours, you look down and watch him move your hand up and down your mound, teasing at your clit, pressing into your slit until you feel your fingertip pushing against your entrance.

“Give it a try,” he tells you quietly and just the sound of his voice makes you close your eyes and take a deep breath, before you tease your fingertip into your hole.

It feels so tight and you suddenly know why it hurts every time your overeager boyfriend presses his thing (still can't even think about it) into you without warning or preparation. You feel Sebastian moving his fingers back to close around your wrist as he guides your hand further, pushing your finger deeper. You shudder at the sensation.

“How does it feel?” he asks and you feel the vibrations of his voice more than you hear his words.

“Weird,” you reply quietly as your finger scrapes over your soft wet flesh. “So... squishy...”

He chuckles. “That makes it so desirable, love,” he whispers and you feel him turn his head and brush his lips against your jaw. “It can be soft and welcoming, but then it can clench and tighten and really squeeze...” He inhales deeply, almost longingly, when all you can do is focus on his voice and the sensation that causes inside you.

And you knew then that it wasn't your finger inside you that made your stomach tense, it was the timbre of his voice, those low vibrations, the way he pronounced certain words, those low and high notes of his speech, and that combined with his lewd words was just irresistible to you. A soft moan escapes you as you shift slightly against him, pressing your back into his chest.

“Keep talking,” you whisper as you move your finger a little faster against your flesh. “Please...”

He seems to pause at your request, then you feel a warm exhale against your cheek as he breathes a throaty laugh. “You like my voice, huh?” he concludes and all you can do is nod. “That's new. Have you always --” He pauses again. “Are you honestly jerking off to my voice right now?” he asks and you blush and bite your lip, but you don't stop moving your finger against yourself.

He laughs softly and tightens his grip on your wrist as he helps you with that motion. “Try adding another finger,” he tells you, his lips brushing against your ear and you shiver deeply. You comply and slip your index finger in with your middle finger, slightly stretching your entrance as you do so. Another moan escapes you. “Push as deep as you can,” he continues in a low whisper that resonates through your entire body. You do what he says and you don't even flinch at the wet squelching sound you create with your movements. “In and out, that's right,” he comments on what you're doing. “Go a little faster, really move those digits. The more friction the better, love.”

You feel your heart pounding inside your chest as you work your hand against your folds, your fingers slipping in and out fast and hard and you can feel your walls clenching around them, certainly reacting to your touch. Your breaths become shallow and you feel your wrist hurting from him holding it and you moving your hand so much, but you keep going.

“Now put your thumb on your clit,” he whispers, seemingly watching you follow his every word. “Pump those fingers and press against your clit and I bet it'll feel even better...” And it does and you almost flinch off his lap if he wouldn't hold you as you feel your thighs twitching when you start rubbing the sensitive nub with every rapid pump motion of your fingers.

You lean your head back against him, breathing louder and harder, your whole body shuddering under the sensation. “You're so good at this,” he tells you and you feel even better. “And I wonder why you never did this before, you're a natural.”

“You... you're... helping...” you whimper breathlessly. You hear him chuckle and then his lips press against your ear.

“Am I?” he whispers with his voice so deep and low that you can only moan more. “And I could tell you anything? And you would still find it... sexy? Hmm,” he hums and you almost lose it right there and then. “Hmm, okay, so, did you know --”

But you never heard whatever he wanted to tell you as your entire body shuddered all over again. You arch your back against him as you buck your hips off his lap and really push your feet into the cushions of the couch when you feel that awful knot tensing up painfully once more before it breaks free with such a force that you let out a cry of pleasure that echoes loudly through the Undercroft. While your hips stutter, you feel something warm and wet coating your hand as you finally still your movements and even press your thighs together before you curl up on his lap, shaking uncontrollably under your release.

He holds you in his arms as you shake and whimper, gently cooing in your ear, and you feel completely spent and very, very happy as you lean against him, smiling tiredly as your eyelids flutter open.

“That was powerful...” he whispers as he meets your eyes with a smirk. “Well done. You even squirted, I'm impressed,” he tells you and you frown at his words, before you loosen your legs and open them once more, only to see a large wet stain on his green trousers.

Despite the sensation still rushing through your body, you basically jump off his lap and hide your face in nothing but pure humiliation as you stand awkwardly in front of the couch, your release still dripping down your legs as you shift on them shakily. “No! Oh no, I'm... I'm so sorry... I didn't --”

He is with you immediately, pulling you into a tight hug and holding you against him. “Shh, it's alright! Don't worry about it! It's completely natural,” he whispers, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “And I can clean that up, no problem. Don't be ashamed! Be proud!”

You issue a strangled noise and bury your burning face in his shirt, your hands clawing at the back of it. It takes you a moment to recover and you feel even sillier over how you've reacted to your mess. “Sorry,” you mumble once more and he shushes you once more.

He even grabs your shoulders and leans you back, looking at you with a serious expression that stuns you for a moment. “Don't apologize,” he whispers and tilts his head. “I wanted you to feel good about yourself, and didn't you feel good just now?”

You swallow and nod almost a little timidly, chewing on your lip.

Sebastian smiles at you. “Then focus on that,” he says and you feel his hands moving down your arms until they hold your waist and pull you closer to him. “And I'm sure you want to feel good again, don't you?”

You take a shuddering breath, unsure if you do. But then he leads you back to the couch, sits down and pulls you onto his soiled lap. You shift a little uncomfortably as he pulls his arms around you and presses your shoulder into his chest. You look at him a little conflicted.

“Hey, cheer up!” he says with a smirk and kisses the top of your head. “And tell me... what do you think about toys?” You frown when he goes back to the topic right away as if nothing has happened. He mistakes your facial expression for confusion and adds: “You know, those phallic things that imitate the real deal? Or other toys you can stuff your pussy with?”

His lewd words make you shiver in slight discomfort and yet they also cause the heat to pool back between your legs immediately. “Haven't thought about those before,” you reply shyly, even though you hold his dark gaze.

“Want to test them out?”

“Do you have stuff like that?” you ask in earnest and surprise, before he chuckles and makes you frown again.

“I'm a wizard, love, I can conjure you anything you desire,” he says with a wink and you blush deeply.

“Perhaps... another time,” you reply eventually. “I... I think I'm good for tonight.”

He watches you closely. “Are you sure? Are you completely frustration-free?”

You consider his question, your eyes wandering over his freckled face. While he waits for your answer, you go back in time and think about your friendship with him. This was still a friendship, right? You have shared so many things, the good and the bad, the worst even, and you were always there for each other. But you have never been this intimate. You've hugged and he's kissed your head a couple of times, tonight included, and he didn't shy away from holding your hand or touching you (appropriately), but you never did the things lovers would do.

And somehow you still didn't consider what has happened tonight to be something like that. He had just helped you, assisted you in relieving the tension that's been troubling you for so long. He's never touched you (inappropriately) himself and you know he wouldn't do that without your permission. And even if the thought of pleasuring yourself right in front of him was still a little daunting to you, you haven't felt too awkward about it because he has made you feel so at ease.

Sitting comfortably on his lap, leaning against his chest, looking into his dark eyes, you suddenly wonder about something else and despite not really wanting to go down that road right now, you just can't shake the thought. So you voice it. “Sebastian?”

“Yes?” he replies, watching you patiently, a gentle smile playing around his lips.

“Why... aren't you my boyfriend?” you ask quietly and for the first time tonight you see him blush. He quickly clears his throat and laughs it off, shaking his head.

“Yes, love, why am I not your boyfriend?” he teases and nudges your shoulder playfully. “Take a guess.”

“Because I chose him or because he was faster in asking me?” you whisper.

You see him clenching his jaw, before he gives you one of his carefree smirks – that you know he uses to hide his deeper thoughts behind. “Both? Honestly, I am happy when you are happy and if you're happy with him --” He pauses then, watching you closely with the smirk slowly fading. “Are you happy with him? If I learned one thing about your beloved boyfriend tonight, it's that he seems to neglect you pretty horribly.”

You inhale sharply. “No, he doesn't! He's really sweet, he just doesn't know any better...” you quickly fall back into defending him.

“And apparently he's unwilling to learn either. Or do you guys just not talk about these things?” he says quietly, his tone a tad too serious for your liking. When you avert your gaze and bite your lip, he exhales loudly. “Of course you don't talk about it! Darling, you have to talk to him if you want to have a better experience! The times are changing, you don't have to take them like they come, you can fight against them, make them better!”

“It's really not that important...” you start quietly, even though you want to agree with him. But some things are always easier said than done.

“Really? It was important enough for you to get so frustrated that you ended up crying in the hallway! I bet he wouldn't like to see you crying either. Talk to him!” he insists, his arms tightening slightly around you. “Or shall I talk to him?”

“No!” you exclaim immediately, staring at him with wide eyes. “Please don't! I --” When you see his smirk, you groan and hit his chest playfully. “Don't even joke about it, okay? He can never find out what... happened here tonight...”

“You know your secrets are safe with me, stop worrying so much!” he says gently and raises a hand to push a strand of your hair out of your forehead. “What we have is special, isn't it? I wouldn't want to jeopardise that.”

“Me neither,” you agree, your eyes boring into his. “Sebastian, I... I want to thank you...” you then start, shifting nervously on his lap.

“No need, love, it's quite alright. I'm always here for you,” he replies, but you shake your head.

“I mean it, let me thank you,” you whisper urgently and he raises an eyebrow.

“What were you thinking of?” he asks then, sounding quite interested in how you want to thank him.

You lick your lips and lean closer until your lips are brushing against his ear for a change. “I...” You blush deeply and inhale sharply, before you lean back and look at him once more. “Listen, don't take this the wrong way. I mean, we've already crossed some lines today, right? So...” Taking another deep breath, you return to whisper into his ear: “I want you to come inside me.”

He grabs your shoulders and stares at you, his lips parted and his eyes wide. “What did you just say?”

You fight the heat overtaking your face and hold your breath when you look at him. “You heard me,” you say and chew on your lips.

“I'm not so sure, to be honest...” he replies quietly, frowning deeply. “Sounded to me as if you --”

“Listen!” You inhale deeply, before you pummel him with your words. “You said it's the best feeling, right? And quite frankly, I want to experience that too for once. So this might also be a selfish request, but also a way of saying thank you for your help tonight...” Staring at him breathlessly, you blink slowly. “What do you say?”

He raises his eyebrows and watches you for a moment, unusually quiet. “Are you sure about this? That would be a major line to cross...” he whispers eventually.

“See it as a service between friends,” you explain with a shy smile.

You see him working his jaw as he looks away slowly, his eyes moving over your exposed legs. His hand moves down to your lower back, teasing under the hem of your shirt, before he lowers it to gently caress the curves of your bare rear. “And we'll still be friends afterwards? Promise?”

You tilt your head. “Of course! Why wouldn't we?”

“What if... that changes things?” he asks quietly, still not looking at you.

“Look at me,” you tell him and reluctantly, he does. “No, really, look at me! I just came all over your blasted trousers! That should have changed things, but it didn't! Not for me. We've been through so much, Sebastian. I think our friendship, or whatever you want to call this, can handle anything!”

He watches you closely, your words slowly bringing the smirk back onto his lips. But you're not done yet.

“And you know? It's only fair that I see you come undone as well, don't you think?” you whisper and smile at him, and despite your confident words and eager attempts to convince him to do that with you, you feel your cheeks burning and your stomach tensing up in anticipation. You might also be dripping onto his trousers some more, but you really don't care any more.

“I suppose,” he replies quietly and you see the tip of his tongue moving over his bottom lip. He smirks wider when he notices where your eyes have wandered. “And you wouldn't consider that cheating? You'd be sleeping with another guy...”

“There will be absolutely no sleeping, okay? Don't you dare fall asleep on me as well! I wouldn't be able to handle it,” you tell him with a hearty laugh.

He chuckles, but you can see a dark shadow crossing his eyes. “No falling asleep, I promise.”

Your eyes move over his face. “You want to do this with me, right? I wouldn't want to... force you or anything.”

His laugh is genuine this time. “You find me a teenage guy who wouldn't want to be forced to have sex!” he says, then clears his throat. “I mean, ugh, you know what I mean!” You see him rolling his eyes as he blushes deeply and you chuckle softly while you raise a hand to rub at his red cheek.

“I want you to feel good too,” you whisper.

“I appreciate that,” he replies, before he tilts his head. “You know, we never even properly kissed and now you expect me to put my cock inside your pussy? That's quite the step we'd be making...”

You almost choke on your own spit when you hear his blunt words before you try to laugh off your shock. “Well... we can also do the steps in between, if it makes you feel better...”

“Well, if I have to,” he mocks your tone and smirks at you, while he extends a hand to cup your face, his long fingers moving into your hair as his thumb caresses your cheek. “Do you want me to kiss you?” he then asks quietly, leaning a little closer.

You look at him, inhaling deeply. “Yes,” you reply without hesitation.

For a moment you just look at each other, each of you weighing the consequences of what is about to happen. But all that flies out the window, or at least your head, when he leans in and presses his lips to yours, gently, softly, testing the waters, and when you kiss him back, he tightens the grip on your face and pulls you towards him, his lips closing around yours eagerly.

You've often imagined kissing Sebastian, or at least for a long while, and you've seen him kissing other girls, but feeling his warm mouth on yours now, with his lips moving confidently against your own and his tongue cheekily slipping into your mouth feels like nothing you could have ever imagined. You are so absorbed in the sensation that you barely notice shifting on his lap until you straddle him, your chest pressed to his as you lean against him, your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepen the kiss almost hungrily.

His hands move down to your hips and even further, and when he starts kneading the soft flesh of your rear, you moan softly into his mouth. He leans back then, watching you out of dark eyes, and you draw a much needed breath. “You really want this?” he whispers equally breathless. You nod and already lean in once more, your lips brushing over his, but he leans back again. “You really want --” You see him clenching his jaw. “You really want me to come inside you?” he says barely audible and you smile at his sudden shyness, or whatever you want to call this kind of hesitation you've certainly never seen from him before.

“Yes,” you breathe against him, your hands finding his face as you hold it firmly. “I want it all. I want you!”

His gaze becomes harder for a moment. “What if I want you too?” he then asks darkly.

You tilt your head and frown, licking your swollen lips. “What do you mean? You have me, right here.”

“What if I... wanted more?” His voice is low, but in a way that causes cold shivers instead of pleasant ones to rush down your spine.

“What are you saying?”

He inhales deeply and then shakes his head, giving you one of his smirks. “Never mind. Forget I said anything,” he then brushes it off and leans in once more to kiss you quickly.

Your turn to lean away. “Sebastian...”

He sighs loudly. “Sorry, I shouldn't have --” You see him closing his eyes for a moment and working his jaw. “This is a service between friends. We are friends, nothing more. You have a boyfriend and I'm just here to help you out when he is too incompetent to treat you right!” He exhales then, leaning his head back against the couch, and rolls his eyes. “Sorry, I mean... I just...” He issues a groan and stays silent.

You grab his face and look at him. He avoids your gaze. “Do you want me to break up with him?” you then ask as straight forward as possible.

His eyes find yours. “I would never ask that of you,” he tells you and even though he sounds sincere, you know better.

“That's not my question,” you whisper.

“Why do you press this so much? Let's just fuck and get it over with!” he grimaces darkly and sits up straighter again, grabbing your waist. “Or not, if you don't want any more because I ruined the mood or something...”

You sigh and roll your shoulders, your thumbs grazing over his cheeks. “Tell me to break up with him,” you say quietly and watch his eyes go wider.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“You don't mean it,” he says quietly, eyeing you closely.

“What if I do? We could do this all the time, without having to hide anything...” you whisper, licking your lips.

“I thought you love him...”

“I love talking to him, spending time with him. The sex, if you want to call it that, was just a... necessity...” you tell him and scoff.

He watches you with dark eyes, his face hard. “What if he doesn't want to talk to you any more... afterwards?”

“His loss,” you say surprisingly indifferently. “I enjoy his presence, but I enjoy yours more,” you tell him with a warm smile.

You see him opening his mouth, ready to say something, make it better or worse, but instead he pushes his lips against yours as he grabs the back of your head and pulls you towards him. You gasp, but quickly lean into the kiss that is much more passionate than before. His words still echo inside your head despite the static trying to push them away and you wonder what if...

He never actually said it, you realize, if he wanted you to break up with your boyfriend, and even though you've seen the signs, you can't be sure. And quite frankly, you are a little apprehensive about making rash decisions while you're still battling your frustrations and basking in the sensations another boy has invoked in you and it wouldn't be fair to -- When you feel Sebastian's tongue pressing against yours demandingly, you focus back on the kiss and for a moment you truly forget about everything.

Your fingers dig into his hair, another thing you've always wanted to do, and you even start grinding your pelvis against him as you kiss him breathlessly. He groans quietly against you, the sound so low and deep it immediately causes a reaction deep within your gut. You grip his hair and wrestle his tongue hungrily, your heart pounding inside your chest. His hands are on your hips, just holding you, but his grip is tight and almost possessive, definitely bruising your skin.

With the last of your willpower (or the urge to breathe) you lean back then and watch him out of half-lidded eyes. “Do you... still want to stick your cock into me?” you ask, blushing from your own whispered words, but also no longer caring about etiquette. He's certainly had a bad influence on you.

Yet he seems just as surprised as you are and issues a short laugh. “Yes,” he eventually says back, breathlessly and with his eyes sparkling mischievously. You smile at him and scoot back on his lap a little as he pushes a hand between your bodies and fumbles with the buttons of his trousers. Watching him eagerly as he finally frees his arousal, you can't help but stare at it for a moment. “You can touch it if you want,” you hear him whisper with a chuckle.

When you look up into his face, you lick your lips and smirk. “I have a better idea,” you whisper back and shift on his lap once more, grabbing his shoulders to pull yourself as close to him as possible before you start moving your pelvis against him, feeling your wet folds sliding over his length as you grind against him slowly.

He immediately gives you the desired reaction and moans deeply, watching you with his eyebrows raised and his lips parted. “Good... idea...” he mutters breathlessly and grabs your waist to assist you in your movements. Together you move in a slow rhythm and you quickly feel your legs shaking and your core burning in pleasure.

Throwing your head back, you gasp and moan softly, before you close your eyes and lean into the sensation. You feel him gripping you tighter, his noises vibrating through you deliciously, before he suddenly grabs the back of your head and pulls your head towards him. Your mouths collide with a smack and after a desperate kiss, he rests his forehead against yours and breathes heavily against your lips. “You wanted me... to come inside you, right?” he whispers deeply.

You open your eyes and look at him, your vision blurry. “Yes...”

“Then please, take me inside already,” he says with a low chuckle. You watch him closely and realize that you are on top and he even confirms your suspicions. “This is your night, love, move at your own pace. Use me as your plaything,” he adds with a smirk.

You lick your lips and try to ignore his word choice for now. Inhaling deeply, you sit back on your knees and look down at his eagerly waiting cock. It's glistening from your slick and those veins bulge quite aesthetically and when you close your hand carefully around his shaft, you give them a light squeeze that causes another moan to fall from his lips.

With another reassuring look into his dark eyes, you lift yourself up and position his precum coated tip against your entrance. Watching you with heavy breaths, he gently massages your waist. Suddenly you feel a little nervous, not about doing it with him or because you think he might not fit, but because you've never been on top, you've never been in charge like this. He seems to sense your worries and reaches one of his hands up and grabs your face, gently caressing your cheek.

“You can do this,” he whispers and it's the sound of his voice that makes you start moving. “Yes, just lower yourself... slowly...” he comments and you bite your lip as you listen to him, your body doing the rest for you. He groans deeply when you feel his tip slipping past your entrance. “You're so tight...” he mutters, inhaling sharply.

You let out a moan and hold onto his shoulders with both hands after you let go of his cock as it slowly disappears inside you. You feel him moving further and further, deeper and deeper, filling you more and more, and the feeling is so new and foreign to you that you feel a deep shudder rushing through your entire body. A little whimper escapes you when you finally bury all of him inside you, and you are both impressed and terrified at the thought.

Breathing heavier, you settle on top of him, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as you try to adjust to his invasion and the sheer length and girth of him. You find him watching you equally breathlessly, his lips trembling slightly and his cheeks redder than you've ever seen them before. You lean in then and try to kiss him, but the motion causes you to move against him and you let out a wince when you feel him pushing so deep he's certainly poking something he probably shouldn't.

He doesn't seem to mind and finishes what you started as he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you closer, kissing you deeply as you let out another gasp. “Does it hurt?” he whispers into your mouth, but you shake your head.

“No, it's just... so new...” you confess and he grimaces darkly before he kisses you again. “But it feels so good...” you add and kiss the corner of his mouth as he gives you another smirk. “Having you all the way in there...” You inhale deeply and bite your lip. “Feels perfect...”

He moves his fingers into your hair and chuckles. “You just wait till we move together,” he whispers and pulls your mouth closer once more. You kiss him hungrily and wait for him to do what he just said, but he doesn't. When you lean back to look at him, he smiles. “I'm your plaything, use me however you like,” he says again, his voice low and sultry.

You chew on your tingling lips, before you grab his shoulders tighter and start leaning up on your knees, slowly raising your rear, feeling your walls clench around his length as if they don't want to part from it. He leans deeper into the couch and watches you, his hands letting go of you to rest on the back of the lumpy furniture piece. He truly lets you do all the work.

And you give your best as you keep moving up, before you move back down with a smack, coaxing a cry and a gasp out of your own throat and a deep moan out of him when he plunges back into you all the way. “Careful,” you hear him whisper with a smirk. “Ease into it,” he tells you and you nod, repeating the motion but a little more deliberate as you move back down on him.

Slowly you find your rhythm and he even starts assisting you as he puts his hands on your waist after all and guides you up and down. Your breaths are shallow and you feel your legs shaking under the exertion, but you keep going, your eyes on his face the entire time. His gaze is just as dark as yours. “Tell me... how it feels,” you whisper in between issuing moan after moan.

He exhales loudly through his nose as he smiles darkly at you. “Amazing,” he groans quietly. “You're so warm and tight... and how deep you can take me feels incredible...” His voice helps you in moving slightly faster now as you feel your insides tightening around him greedily. “Oh yes, you move those hips, love,” he breathes. “Just like that... you really are a natural...”

You bite your lip and move your hand to grab the back of his neck as you place your other hand on his chest, riding him faster and harder with every rapid heartbeat. The slapping of skin against skin and the squeaking of the old couch echo in your ears and fuel your desire to do anything to get that extra bit of friction, that extra scratch you need so badly as you grind your hips, feeling him stretching your walls and moving against those sweet spots. You moan louder and for once you don't care who can hear you.

All you care about is your pleasure and it feels so good and refreshing to have someone allow you to chase it. Even though he seems to really struggle beneath you, his fingers digging into your skin almost painfully as he grunts and groans while you moan and whimper. “Are... are you... close?” you ask, your voice strained and shaking from your continuous motions as you move your entire body against him.

He lets out a deeper grunt and you see him squeeze his eyes shut. “You... first...” is all he utters. You lean closer then, your arms wrapping around his neck as you press your chest against his. Your lips brush over his as you start moving your rear up and down as fast as you can, really leaning into it, and you hear him groan louder and faster as he too wraps his arms around you and holds you close.

You almost lose it right there and then when he starts pushing his hips upwards against you, mirroring your movements and doubling the sensation. Moaning right into his ear as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, you feel your walls clenching more and more despite the rapid movement of his cock sliding in and out of you as he fucks you open relentlessly. Your whimpers grow louder and you cling onto him as if your life depended on it.

“Please,” you hear him whisper hoarsely. “Come for me...”

You move faster, the heat almost unbearable now, and as you hold onto him and he holds onto you, you feel your muscles contracting, your insides convulsing, that sweet tension building and building, and when it finally burst into an explosion of tiny little lights, you cry out loudly, arching your back and sinking your fingernails into his shirt, gasping for air, before you collapse against him, breathlessly and spent, your limbs twitching and your heart ready to jump out of your chest.

Yet he keeps moving his hips against you even faster, the sound of your bodies connecting an obscenely wet one, the couch creaks beneath you, and his groans become louder and louder, until he shudders against you, his arms tightening around you to the point where you can barely breathe, and when he pushes your body hard onto his lap, burying his entire length as deeply as possible, he grunts and stills his movements, and you feel him twitching inside you, before something warm and wet fills you up as he mindlessly pumps his load into you.

You whimper softly as you lean against him, completely exhausted and yet so satisfied like you have never felt before. For a moment, none of you move, it's only the last tremors of your orgasms causing your limbs to twitch occasionally, before you hear him breathing heavily into your neck as he pushes his lips against your damp skin and kisses it lazily. “You're amazing...” he hums and you shudder deeply at the sound and sensation. “That was... amazing...”

You move your shaking fingers into his hair and gently caress his scalp, your breaths still shallow but not as frantic any more. “You... too...” you whisper quietly. “Thank you...”

He chuckles softly at that, his voice hoarse and strained as he speaks. “No, thank you. It really is the best feeling, you know?” He shifts beneath you and you gasp softly as he pushes his hips upwards once more. “Can you feel it? How warm and cosy it feels?” You nod your head, hoping he'll notice it. “I almost want to stay like that forever,” he continues quietly, his breath ghosting your ear, causing goosebumps to ripple over your heated skin. “You're the perfect fit...”

You breathe against him, fighting the thoughts pushing through your cloudy mind. Before you can help it, you feel a tear dropping from your lashes and a sob falling from your lips.

“Are you alright?” he asks immediately, loosening his grip on your body, but you keep clinging onto him, not wanting to face him right now. “Does it hurt? Shall I pull out?”

“No,” you say firmly. “I'm okay, don't move...” You feel him rubbing your back soothingly, his touch warm and comforting, and yet it causes more tears to roll down your cheeks. “I wish we --”

Suddenly he presses his lips against your ear, his breath hot on your skin and his voice vibrating through your head so intensely, it stops any ongoing thoughts instantly. “Please break up with him,” he whispers.

It's these words and his low voice and the need behind it that makes you lean back eventually. Ignoring the slight jab of pain as you shift on top of him, you look at him and his face is as flushed as yours feels. His eyes are dark, yet pleading, his lips parted and trembling. You reach out a hand to caress his cheek and push a wild strand of his messy hair out of his forehead, before you lean in and gently press your lips to his.

You'd be a fool if you'd ignore his request now. It wasn't just the amazing sex and all those moments before, it was the promise behind his words to treat you like this for as long as you'd let him. And how could you ever say no to those puppy-dog eyes? You chuckle at the thought and lean back, meeting his puzzled gaze. “I will,” you then tell him, as simple as that, and his reaction couldn't warm your heart more.

The smile spreads over his entire face, making those dimples pop and his eyes sparkle, and then he wraps his arms tighter around you, pulls you against him once more and kisses the side of your face with a happy chuckle. You laugh against him, relishing the warmth that courses through your entire body. And you know from that moment forwards that you need him to come inside you every blasted time.

Because it truly is the best feeling.

End notes: Breeding kink activated! He's converted another one!

And speaking of kink: that voice kink, right? Confession time: I cannot stop listening to Sebastian saying "forgotten", the way he pronounces that word is just *chef's kiss* to me! (I have it bookmarked, see link above... And even though it's the scene where he's angry with us, I cannot help but melt away at the sound of it XD)

On another note: With Kinktober over, what are we calling November? Because uh, no, I will not participate in No-Nut-November, excuse me? Our boy can't handle that! So Smutvember? Lovember?

While I wrote this I was imagining who that useless but sweet boyfriend would be - and while I have some ideas, I'd like to hear yours! Who do you think would be a great guy to talk to, but would be utterly useless in bed?

MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER - AO3

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow reader insert #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy reader insert #reader insert

433 notes · View notes

bangchansgirlsblog · 6 months

Text

Him.

Warning: Abuse, Angst/comfort, crying, blood.

Pairing: Hyunjin x reader

Summary: Hyunjin saves you from an abuse relationship.

Hey😆 if you don’t like graphic things please don’t read. Thank you! Not the best one shot but yeah hope you enjoy it :))

-🩷

"Alex please! I'm sorry!" I yelp as I scrumble on the floor trying to get away from my now angry boyfriend. My hands trembled and my body was now vigorously shaking on the ground.

This had been going on for 30 minutes and I was exhausted and dehydrated. My hands were slippery from the blood that laid on them. All my senses were gone at this point but he kept going and going.

"You'll be actually sorry when I'm done with you," his fist connecting with my chin as I scream in pain from the constant beating of his hands against my limbs. His steps were loud and his breathing was even louder. His face occasionally getting really close to mine.

"Please forgive me! I didn't mean it! Alex please!" I get on all my fours and take a few crawls away from his standing figure but his hands wrapped around around my ankle and yanked me back to his body.

He had a smirk on his face. He enjoyed this. I knew he did but the constant manipulation and lying words tricked my mind into thinking that maybe he was just stressed or tired or maybe I did something to trigger him whenever this would happen.

This time was done I know I had to get away somehow. I knew that if I didn’t leave him I would end up dead or I could put anyone at risk with him around.

I’m ripped away from my thoughts and prayers when his voice booms into my eardrums. A ringing sound now playing really loudly.

"You think you can be a little slut huh?! You think you can get away with this shit?! You're fucking pathetic!"

My eyes are glued to his body. His arms were both grasping and digging into my flesh. Small whimpers are leaving my mouth. I couldn’t see anything due to the tears that fogged my site but I knew he was so proud of himself.

He knew he could control me. He thought I wouldn’t leave him but this time I was thinking about it. Thinking about getting here alive.

I pray that it’s all over when he just glared at me and it is when he spits on me and walks away. His saliva is hot against my face. My body laying on the ground as I tried to get energy to get up. I slowly look up to see if he was still In the room but thankfully he was gone.

The slamming front door confirms it.

The world seemed to be moving in slow motion. The plate that was once neatly stacked with food was now on the floor and shattered.

Pillows were everywhere and the painting Hyunjin had made me was now ripped on the floor.

Heavier sobs leave my mouth as I slowly get up but I’m unable to. My body wouldn’t allow it. My shaking arms couldn’t support the weight. My breathing was getting worse but the sound is covered with my phone was ringing non stop.

Hyunjin's name popping up time and time again.

The warm sension of blood oozed from my nose. The throbbing pain of my nose and now black eye lingered. My body ached.

This was a normal thing tho. Alex didn't have the best temper and I knew that. It was my fault.

I knew he didn't like his food served at this hour but yet I thought that if I somehow convinced him to eat now I could go out later to hangout with the guys. He didn’t like them at all but he always found himself around us trying to make a point about who could come near me and who couldn’t.

I slowly help myself up by leaning on the couch.

My arms were bruised and the breaths I would try to take hurt really bad. Tears continued to roll down my cheeks. I limp towards the messy area trying to clean it before he came back. Before he would have another reason to snap.

The apartment was quiet. Khami was locked in his cage. The lights were dim and the kettle was boiling.

It was the knock on the door that got me out of my trance. My neck snapping towards it.

Who could be out there? Everyone knew not to come announced. The more I thought about it the more scared I got. Was it the neighbor? Did someone call the cops?

I try to avoid the door but the knocks get more frantic and loud. Hyunjin's voice now coming through.

"Y/n?! Y/n it's me! Please open the door. Are you hurt?! I can see your shoes out here! I know you’re in there!”

I was in the kitchen when Alex had come into the room. He was wearing his work suit and a smile played on his lips. He placed a kiss on my forehead and sets his briefcase on the table.

"Hey love, how was your day?" He asks. I look over at him and give him a tiny smile.

"It was good and yours?" I automatically ask him. My hands were stirring the cooking pot and the kettle of warming water sat besides the sauce pan.

"Yeah just tired,” he tans and furrows his eyebrows while looking at his watch “what are you doing?"

I run my hands nervously and turn towards him.

"Oh I'm just making you a plate of food before I go,"

"Go where?" His eyes furrow and I gulp, "remember I told you that I was going out with the guys? You let me go,”

"Go where? I don't remember this," his eyes squint "why would you go out with the boys?"

"Baby remember when I asked you?" I frown and look up at him. My hands play with the strings from the apron.

"You’re not going-" his voice is firm and now he is towering over me.

"But babe-"

"I said you’re not going and it's final," he snaps before turning around and leaving the room.

I let out a sigh thinking that maybe he was just in a bad mood but nevertheless a no was a no.

I put everything down and pull out to phone Chan who wasn't picking up so the next best option was Hyunjin.

"Hyunjin?" I say softly,

"Hey! How are you?" He beams through the phone. His voice was soft yet excited. The thought of no seeing them hurt my heart. I had been avoiding them due to the clear visual bruises that lay on my body from the fight I had gotten in either Alex a few days ago.

They were all so attentive when I was around them so I knew it wasn’t a good idea to be around when I was covered in bruises. Too many questions.

I begin to explain, "Oh I just come today, I'm sorry-"

"What? This is the 3rd time you've cancelled this week," his voice is layered with confusion, “are you trying to avoid me because of the kiss?”

My heart stops beating for a second and butterflied start to invade my stomach. It was definitely not because of that. I start to blush, I feel it.

"No Hyun it’s because Alex-"

"Who the fuck are you talking to?" A voice booms causing me to jump. I turn to see Alex stood by the door. His frame covering everything.

"It's no one Alex it's just Hyunjin,” I try to explain,

"Hello? Y/n? Is that Alex?" I hear Hyunjin's voice from the other side of the phone before glass shatters causing me to drop the phone.

"What the fuck is your probekm you bitch?!" He yells and charges at me.

"Alex no! I was just-"

I feel a hot sting on my cheek and my body being pulled by my hair to the living room.

I let out a scream causing him to let go and put his palm against my mouth

“Shhh don’t say a word, why the fuck are you telling Hyunjin about our business? Huh?! Is he part of our relationship?!” My eyes go wide and I frantically shake my head no. I can fear the tears starting to form in my eyes.

He lets go of my mouth and I take on a deep breathe trying to regulate my breathing. Trying to get away but my body is thrown to the floor.

“Alex please! Please I won’t do it again! I’m sorry,” a squeal leaves my mouth as I grab my rib cage that was now on fire because of the impact.

His eyes were dark and his fists were clenched and red from the previous fights we had gotten into. He was wearing his normal sweatpants, Shirt and his hair was a mess.

“Do you think you can play me?!” His voice booms through the room.

“No no no , I love you Alex-“

“Then act like it!” He is calm for a second before charging at me again causing me to scream in fear, “You’re the fucking problem. You little pathetic nobody!” His hand wraps around my neck trying to grab me off the floor.

My hands automatically try to remove his finger but his grip is too tight causing me to lack air. Not to breathe.

“Seems you don’t listen? Today I’m going to discipline you again.”

“H-Hyunjin go away please!” I whisper through the door.

“No Y/n! open the door right now or I’m calling the cops,” he threatens. My body goes cold, what could I possibly do?

“No no no! Please don’t!” Panic feels me before my shaky hands slowly open the door and a peep through the little crack.

“What is it hyun?” I whisper. I examine him. His wearing a flannel and some jeans. His airforces on and his jyp budge attached to his shirt meaning he had come from the studio.

“I heard everything Y/n open then door please?” His eyes are soft, warm and glistening.

“No-no you can’t Alex-“ by the time I try to finish the sentence he had managed to push himself through, frantically looking around the room.

“Is that son of a bitch gone?” He looks over at me when his done looking around the room.

“Yes yes- Hyunjin you have to go- he might be back-“ he takes a step back and looks at me in horror.

“Your face-“ he gasps then proceeds to step closer to me.

Sobs leave my mouth again. I try to hide it with my sleeves, “No don’t look at me-“

“I’m killing this motherfucker.” His body is tensed up and his jaw clenches.

His hands reach out to examine me. My face but I wince and try to step back.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t be here on time my love, this is my fault, I knew he wasn’t okay! Fuck. Are you okay? What hurts? Let me see please princess? Let me take care of you-“ he pulls me on his body but I try to resist. This doesn’t let him let go though.

“Hyunjin-“

“It’s okay, it’s okay” is all he says and that makes me fall against his body. It was overwhelming. I was tired. I was crying. I was a mess. I was in pain. Really bad pain. My chest hurt. He carries me to the couch before examining the bruises even more. His eyes squinting. The room is silent only a few barks from Khami.

His hair was in a ponytail and his nails were painted in black. The little things I was noticing as I stared at him trying to make out what his face was saying or what his brain was thinking.

He gets up and gets the first aid kit and some cleaning supplies before sitting back down.

“I’m going to touch you okay? And it might hurt but I’m just cleaning you up okay?” I just nod trying not to fight or say anything.

“We’re leaving, you’re going to stay with me until we can find you an apartment and you’re leaving this bastard.”

“But he’ll find me Hyunjin,” I cry in a panic.

“Hey hey hey, even if he does, which he won’t. I’ll whoop his ass and give him a big beating. Nothing will happen, plus his going up against 8 boys I think we can take him,”

“What about-“ I wince when he puts a bandage on my arm. My concentration now turning to the throbbing wrist.

“No I’m not taking no for an answer. You’re coming with me, stay here.” He gets up and I watch him closely. He enters Alex’s room and disappears. Knowing I couldn’t argue with him I knew I had to get Khami because that witch would try and hurt him. I limp over to Khami’s cage and get him out. He starts licking my face and whimpering. Knowing he had been watching everything in the apartment from moments before.

“I got your bags love,” Hyunjin says coming back. He gives Khami a small smile before he wraps his hand around my waist pulling me onto him.

“I love you,” his lips touch my softly. His fingers wipe the tears that had fallen from before. His body is warm and he smelt like flowers and blueberries…maybe strawberries.

“I’m going to protect you. I have to protect you.”

Before I can say anything he grabs my stuff and guides me to the car outside closing the door.

This was a new beginning to the end.

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italiansteebie · 9 months

Text

secret shape shifter Steve who everyone thinks dies in the upside down, only he doesn't but he's having a fantastically peaceful time shifting into a small brown cat and bugging each of them at their houses.

he keeps it his own little secret until robin and eddie come close to a fist fight over who he belongs to, and the peace he felt once is gone. "he's my cat. buck! his name is oz, and I found him first." Eddie sneers, waving his hands theatrically. "uh, no. he crawled out from under the rubble at my house, his name is rubble, obviously, and he is mine."

their heads turn to the cat that had been resting lazily on the worn couch, as he screamed at them, seeming to want them to stop arguing. "shush, cat. we're trying to argue," Eddie says, swiping a hand over his face, to which he hisses at, rolling his eyes before stalking back to eddies room. he can still hear them arguing, he shakes his head, "dummies," he thinks as he flicks his tail. he flops down, rolling on his back and stretching until his bones pop and snap back into his human form. (he shifted every night after he went home, he had some practice by now). Steve groaned as he stood, ruffling his hair, picking up some clean-ish clothes off of eddies floor, before slipping them on.

"can you guys shut up?" he said, walking into the living room where his two friends were still arguing. "no- steve? are you real?" Eddie whispered, poking his face, "hey!"

"what the fuck Steve, we thought you were dead!" robin cried, tears streaming down her face as she launched herself into his arms. "I've been around, robs."

"what are you talking about?" Eddie whispered, still staring at him as though he's an apparition, and well, he kind of is... "im the cat," Steve said simply, tacking on a 'meow,' for emphasis.

"what cat? my cat? rubble?" robin asked, jaw dropping when Steve nodding. "I changed in front of you! oh my god, Steve."

"prove it," Eddie said, eyeing him carefully.

Steve rolled his eyes, rolling his shoulders before beginning the shift once more. he stared up at his friends for a moment before shifting back into his human form carefully, as to not flash either of them.

"Oh my god. I told you about my crush on- that was private" Eddie cried, scrubbing a hand over his face.

and Steve remembers that night, how he softly curled around Eddie after uttering those words. "and I hate him," he'd sobbed, "because I never- never got to tell him how I felt," and Steve had never wanted to shift more in a moment, than right then and there.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #shape shifter Steve Harrington #robin buckley #steddie #pre steddie #stranger things #steddie ficlet #best friend robin #steve harrington ficlet #stranger things ficlet #shapeshifter #shapeshifter steve harrington #best friend robin buckley

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callsign-rogueone · 2 months

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you're somebody else - b.s.

Brennan Sorrengail x Reader words: 1.7k 🏷: IRON FLAME SPOILERS. reader uses she/her pronouns. angst, angst, angst (but a happy ending!) blood, discussion of injury, scars and stitches. inspired by / titled after the song by flora cash

Your fiancé has been dead for six years. You’d read his name on the death roll, and burned his belongings in an offering to Malek.

Now he’s standing thirty feet away from you with both of his sisters, breathing and moving, reacting to something they’d said.

He’s alive.

Your grip on your bag falters, and it falls to the floor with a soft thud.

Everyone’s eyes turn to you. The younger of the two Sorrengail girls recognizes you instantly, her lips parting in shock as she takes you in for the first time since Brennan’s graduation from Basgiath.

Her gaze shifts to her brother, whose eyes are now locked with yours. You look like you’ve seen a ghost, unable to pull your eyes away from the man in front of you.

You make no move toward him; don’t leap into his arms like he’d imagined for years, don’t hug him as tightly as you can, don’t cry tears of happiness. Your boots are still glued to the polished floor of the hall.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes, “I…”

You flinch at his voice, the sound you’ve only heard in dreams for the last six years.

The tall man standing beside him, who you distantly recognize to be Fen Riorson’s son, motions for the two girls to leave.

“It’s good to see you again,” Violet says softly. You’ve always had a soft spot for her, had written her letters after you’d gotten the news, sharing in her grief.

Mira only gives you a lingering glance as she follows her sister, leaving you alone with Brennan.

“You’re hurt,” he says gently, seeing the tear in the right thigh of your pants and the bloody gash beneath it. “Can I mend you?”

You remain silent, but you nod once in affirmation.

You pretend the hands on your leg belong to anyone else, keeping your eyes forward while he kneels in front of you, working to close the wound.

He finally speaks. “My love, I’m so-”

“Please don’t call me that,” you interrupt, and he feels a pain rival to that of the arrow he’d taken to the chest, the one that should have killed him.

He’s silent, letting you continue. You’ll likely have as much pent up emotion to release as his sisters did when they found out. Thankfully, you choose Violet’s path over Mira’s, eviscerating him with words rather than fists. His nose still doesn’t feel right; mending himself has always been difficult.

“I still mourn you,” you tell him. “I've lit a candle for Malek every night in your honor since I got the news. To have my life crumble around me, to find out we’re at war, that I’ve been on the wrong side the whole time, and then to find that for six years, you’ve been alive, but you never once thought about writing to me to tell me any of it…” you shake your head, pressing your lips together to hold in a sob.

You steady your breathing after a moment. “I’m glad you’re alive, Brennan, I really am. But my Brennan, the man I was supposed to marry, the one who wrote me love letters in ancient languages, is still dead. He has been for years.”

You reach into the chest pocket of your flight jacket, placing something cold in his hand and closing his fingers around it. He doesn’t need to look down to know that it's your engagement ring.

“Thank you for the mending,” you say, picking up your bag.

He waits until your footsteps have retreated back into the hallway, letting loose a shuddering sob.

Marbh sends him a wave of warmth and empathy. If there is any being who knows how much it had hurt Brennan to be away from you so long, it is him.

“Your brother needs you, silver one,” Tairn relays to Violet, a resigned quiet in his tone that has the cadet slipping away from the group to run back to the assembly room.

When she arrives, she finds Brennan sitting on the floor, knees tucked to his chest, sobbing. It’s a sight she never wants to see again; it just feels so wrong.

Brennan had always been the strongest of the siblings, the tree that could weather any storm, a perfect balance of their mother’s intense strength and their father’s calm intelligence. It was always her crying after an injury, Mira or Brennan taking her to the infirmary for Nolon to mend it, soothing her all the while.

It’s her turn now to hold him as he cries, murmuring reassurances.

“She’ll come around,” Violet promises, though there’s a nagging feeling in her chest that says you might not. “Prove to her that you are the same man she fell in love with, that you are still worthy of her, and she’ll come around.”

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

You don’t speak with him for two days, only seeing him stand on the dais at Battle Brief.

It had stung to hear Devera refer to him as Lieutenant Colonel Aisereigh. He’d changed his name. He really isn’t your Brennan anymore.

He catches you at breakfast — none of your squadmates had come with you from Montserrat, so you’re sitting alone at one of the long tables.

You look up at him silently, letting him speak first.

He lays a thick bundle of papers on the table in front of you. “The first year of letters,” he answers before you can ask, “that I was too much of a coward to send.”

You look down at the stack of aged parchment. There have to be at least twenty letters there — one a week since July, when he’d been sent to Aretia.

By the time you look back up, he’s gone.

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

A week passes, then another.

He’s nearly too busy to worry about you, between the arguments among the assembly, the arrival of the gryphon fliers and the subsequent issues integrating them, and his duties mending the injuries resulting from the animosity there.

Someone steps through the door of the infirmary, panting as they limp an injured rider forward. “She just collapsed. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Brennan realizes it’s you they’re holding up, his heart pounding. He wraps an arm around your waist to take you from your friend, and his hand slips against your side, warm and wet with blood.

He guides you onto one of the empty beds, pulling up the sticky fabric of your shirt.

The messily-wrapped bandage around your torso has absorbed all the blood it can, the row of stitches underneath torn open. You must have done this yourself in an effort to avoid him, and it didn’t hold.

At least the wound doesn’t seem infected.

He presses a clean palm into the skin, apologizing when you whimper and flinch away. “S’okay, pretty girl,” he soothes, brushing the hair from your forehead gently.

You don’t seem to hear him, your eyes still closed. Fuck, how much blood have you lost?

It’s easy enough to mend the wound, but it’s going to scar — it’s not fresh enough for him to make it disappear without a trace.

He washes the blood from his hands, pulling up a chair beside the bed and watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you sleep.

He has no idea if you’ve read the letters he gave you had changed your mind, or if you’d read them at all. You may very well have burned them. You’d be right to, after the way he’d lied to you.

You might never take him back. This may be his last chance to touch you, to feel the warmth of your skin against his.

He takes your hand gently, intertwining your fingers and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, squeezing your palm three times — three times means I love you, you’d told him years ago.

His heart nearly stops as you squeeze back weakly; once, twice, three times.

—————————————————————

You blink the sleep from your eyes, your gaze settling on Brennan sitting beside you, an ancient looking book in his hand, pen between his teeth and a notebook covered with nearly incoherent scribbles in his lap.

Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as you’d thought.

The book and notes are quickly abandoned when he realizes you’re awake. “What the hell happened?”

“Godsdamned gryphon bit me because it didn’t like the order I gave it’s flier,” you explain, stretching your aching muscles. How long had you been asleep?

“And rather than seeking professional help, you stitched it up yourself?” He asks in that same stern tone he’d always used with you after you put yourself in danger.

This time you don’t find it endearing.

“Yes, I did, like I have for the last six years every time I’ve been injured,” you snap. “The way people do when they don’t have a mender with them.”

He holds his tongue, realizing how many scars you’d acquired over the years. Since he developed his signet, he’d always mended even the smallest of scrapes for you, but now stripes of scar tissue run across your skin like rivers on a map, ghosts of past wounds, some healed better than others.

He imagines you sitting alone in your barracks room with a needle and thread, a folded shirt clenched between your teeth as you sewed the wounds shut.

“Please come see me next time?” He asks softly, genuine concern in his voice. “It could have gotten infected, or worse. And if your friend hadn’t been there…”

You sigh, guilt tugging at you. “Okay.”

“Thank you. Get some rest,” he encourages, turning to gather his things.

“I read some of the letters,” you say, and he turns back to face you. “I’m still hurt, but I’m not angry. I don’t think I could ever be angry with you. You’re a good man, Bren. You’ve done great things for these people.”

The weight on his chest lightens, but he stays quiet, waiting for another heartbreaking line.

“Can we start over?” You ask in a whisper, looking up at him. “Can we try to be us again?”

He smiles. “I’d love nothing more, sweetheart.”

Your heart flutters at the word, as if you’re hearing it from him for the first time. In a way, you are.

#brennan sorrengail #brennan sorrengail x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #liz brennanposting at midnight? more likely than you think #mine

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impala-dreamer · 4 months

Text

Trouble On Set

A Short Story

~Jensen and Jared have a habit of messing with costars, but what happens when one of them fights back?~

Jensen x Reader (ish), Misha, Jared / Dean x Carrie, Sam, Castiel

2,963 Words

Warnings: Pranks and Drama and Adult Behavior. Fluff.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

Dean raised his hand once more, ready to strike, and Carrie cringed in fear, shrinking down into a tiny thing, like a flower retreating from the frost.

“Please, don’t!” Her voice was weak and trembling just like her fragile frame. Blood trickled down from the cut on her lip, bruises blossomed beneath her smooth skin.

Dean froze, his fist hovering in the air above his head. He caught his breath and crumbled inside, green eyes going wide with sadness. “I- I didn’t mean to…”

Sam rushed past his brother, nearly knocking him to the side as he fell to his knees to check on Carrie. She lunged forward into his big arms, finding a bit of comfort as they wrapped tight around her.

“It’s OK,” he whispered, “I got you.”

She looked up from Sam’s shoulder to Dean, her eyes huge with shock and betrayal. “Dean, I-”

A loud, blistering pop of air ripped through the room, accompanied by a rotten smell so foul that Carrie could not hold back her disgust.

“Dean, I- I-” The smell permeated her senses and her gag reflex activated. “Oh god-”

Jared laughed, his giant body shaking, still wrapped around Y/N. She gagged loudly and tried to pry herself out of his grasp.

“Cut!”

“Oh my god!” Y/N held her breath and shoved at Jared’s chest, finally pushing him away.

Above them, Jensen looked down with a wicked smile. “Jesus, dude, what’d you eat!” He waved a hand in front of his face as the smell finally reached him.

“You’re disgusting,” Misha added, standing off to the side on his mark. “So gross.”

Jared stood up and shrugged as he adjusted his jeans, yanking them up back into place. “Hey! Shit happens!”

Jensen burst into a loud cackle that bent him clean in half. “Did you shit yourself?”

Y/N tried to stay calm, keep herself professional, but the smell seemed to be getting worse. “Wow.”

“Think something died in your ass, dude,” Jensen went on, hands on his knees as he laughed.

Jared took it all in like he was winning an award, smile beaming as the crew reset.

“OK! Settle! Let’s go again.”

Dean raised his fist high, his jaw twitching with anger.

Carrie shrank down and away, terrified and aching from his previous blow. “Please, don’t!” Her voice trembled, her hand shot up to hide her face from his wrath.

Dean froze, his fingers unfurling as he looked down at her, pain and sadness filling his freckled face. “I- I didn’t mean to…”

Carrie stared up at him, tears flooding her pretty eyes.

Jensen licked his lips slowly, seductively, and raised an eyebrow at Y/N.

Sam rushed past Dean and dropped down to his knees next to Carrie. She fell forward into his big arms as her breath became labored with heavy sobs.

“It’s OK,” he whispered, “I got you.”

Jensen bared his teeth and ran the tip of his tongue across the edges, licking his chops like a wolf as he stared at her.

Carrie looked up from Sam’s shoulder and a tear fell from her eye. “Dean, I-”

Again, Jensen used his tongue, this time flickering it quickly between his teeth, then rolling it suggestively. He smirked as Y/N shivered, distracted by his movements.

“Dean, I-”

Another slow, long roll of his tongue.

“I, uh…”

“Cut!”

Jared leapt to his feet and went over to Jensen, continuing a conversation from before the first take. Misha pulled out his phone, and Y/N simply stayed on the dirty studio floor, wiping real tears from her face with the hem of her shirt.

“You OK?”

Blue eyes were wide with genuine concern, but Y/N waved Misha off. “I’m fine. Thank you.” Her smile was weak but managed to help calm her frustration.

“OK, people. Let’s go again! Take ten…”

And so it went.

After five days of filming the first of her seven episode run, Y/N had messed up nearly every shot she was in, whether by design or fear of having it ruined. Jared and Jensen were terribly wicked, making her break constantly, tripping her, making faces at each other or her, farting- it was almost unmanageable. Through it all, Y/N tried her best to stay calm and keep going. It was a huge thing- landing a spot on such a great show, but she didn’t know if she could do it for much longer. The frustration was boiling up inside of her, and- not to mention- she felt unwanted and severely disliked. Everyone always talked about how nice Ackles and Padalecki were to guest stars, how playful and loving the set was, how the cast and crew were like family. Y/N sure as hell wasn’t feeling like family. More like the black sheep no one wanted to talk about. Or to.

Dean raised his hand once more, ready to strike, and Carrie cringed in fear, shrinking down into a tiny thing, like a flower retreating from the frost.

“Please, don’t!” Her voice was weak and trembling just like her fragile frame. Blood trickled down from the cut on her lip, bruises blossomed beneath her smooth skin.

Dean froze, his fist hovering in the air above his head. He caught his breath and crumbled inside, green eyes going wide with sadness. “I- I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s OK,” he whispered, “I got you.”

She looked up from Sam’s shoulder to Dean, her eyes huge with shock and betrayal. “Dean, I-”

Jensen looked up at the ceiling, refusing to meet her gaze. He puckered his lips as if whistling, completely ignoring her.

“Dean-”

He tongued his cheek and sighed, seemingly annoyed by her acting.

“I… um…”

Y/N cleared her throat and grit her teeth, determined to make it through the take.

“Dean- I’m so sorry.” Carrie let loose a stream of loud tears, pouring them into Sam’s shoulder. “I’m sorry!”

“And...cut! We got it. That’s dinner, people.”

Y/N stepped out into the cold Vancouver night, totally uninterested in dinner or anything other than collapsing into her bed back at the hotel. She needed a shower, a drink, and a call back home to her best friend. The job she’d been looking forward to for weeks had turned out to be a nightmare.

Finally alone, she closed her eyes and lifted them towards the dark sky, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. Things were not what they had seemed.

Boots echoed behind her and Y/N startled, turning to see Jensen walking towards her, a kind smile upon his plump lips.

“Hey.” He stopped a few feet away and tucked his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels nervously.

Y/N’s anxiety spiked and her stomach tightened. “Hey.”

He licked his bottom lip slowly, green eyes flashing over her face. “Great job today. Made it through that scene nicely.”

Confused, Y/N swallowed down her annoyance and nodded. “Thanks. You too.”

“It’s not easy to cry like that,” he complimented, voice smooth and sweet. “I’m impressed.”

Her eyes narrowed on him, not sure what was going on. “Thanks?”

“Really,” he pushed with a smile, the apples of his cheeks burning pink under the lot lights. “You did great.”

Y/N couldn’t respond; her thoughts twisted in utter confusion. She stared at Jensen as if he were some alien being sent to drive her insane.

He tipped back on his boot heels and took a deep breath, prepping for something. He cleared his throat and locked his knees. “So anyway… I was wondering if you… wanted to come get a drink with me? We’re pretty much done for the day. I think they’re just reshooting Jared’s scene with Misha next, so you and I could sneak away.” He held his breath and dug his front teeth hard into his bottom lip, waiting for her answer.

It was not what he expected.

Y/N’s jaw dropped and she blinked furiously at him, stunned. “Excuse me?”

Jensen laughed timidly. “There’s a bar we like to go to downtown. We can… go hang out? Get a buzz on?” He shrugged and smiled.

Y/N snapped. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He jolted. “What?”

“I said, are you fucking kidding me?” she spat, turning towards him with rage pulsing from her form. Jensen took a step back but she came closer. “You… you have been fucking with me all fucking week!” Her voice echoed down the alleyway, giant metal buildings amplifying her rage like a blow horn. “You’re so mean! You… you and Jared have been fucking up every take for me! You tripped me twice, I slammed into a wall yesterday; you’re making disgusting remarks and faces at me while I’m trying to cry. You’re ruining this for me!”

Jensen’s hands lifted from his pockets to surrender, his palms facing her in the dark. “Whoa. It’s not… we’re not-”

“You’re not? You’re not! You’re gonna get me fired! Do you even care about anyone but yourself? This is a huge deal for me and you’re going to ruin it. I’m gonna get fired because you can’t keep be fucking professional and Jared can’t stop eating burritos for lunch!” Y/N caught herself, gasping for a breath while her pulse raged in her ears. “Fuck!”

Jensen shook his head in shock and lowered his hands. “Y/N, it’s… really not what you think. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry? Oh, he’s sorry!” She spun around, telling the world. “He’s sorry he’s going to get me fired, everyone! Jensen Ackles is sorry! That makes it all better!”

He stood, dumbfounded and guilty, his shoulders falling low, his eyes filling with hurt. “Wow. I’m… really sorry.”

Y/N took a deep, shaking breath and turned her eyes away, not wanting him to see her cry. “Yeah. Thanks for the apology.” She crossed her arms and spun on her heel, turning her back on him. “Think I’ll pass on drinks.”

Jensen tried to say something, to find some way to smooth things over, but his voice died in the back of his throat, his mind empty and unsure. “Yeah,” he mumbled, backing away. “OK.”

She heard him walk away and she did the same, stalking towards the parking lot.

From the shadows, a dark figure emerged, black hair a mess, trenchcoat flapping gently in the breeze.

“You know he’s just fucking with you.”

Misha’s voice called to her and Y/N turned to see him leaning against the corner of the building, clearly having heard and seen everything.

“You usually lurk in the shadows like that?”

He laughed and shrugged. “No, but I’m usually in the right place at the right time.”

Y/N shook her head. “Not me. I’m clearly in the wrong place, wrong time, wrong profession.”

Misha pushed himself away from the wall. “Nah. You were really good today.”

“Was I?” she snit, sarcasm coating every inch of her. “Sorry. I’m just- they’re torturing me and I don’t know why.” Her voice cracked. “They fucking hate me. What did I do?”

He laughed.

“Oh, that’s funny to you?”

He shook his head. “They don’t hate you, Y/N.”

She huffed. “I highly doubt that, but thank you.”

Misha came closer and lowered his voice. “You know, they only torture those they like. Especially Jensen. He’s only like that with people he… really likes.” He emphasized the last like as if he were the grade school gossip and Y/N scoffed.

“Yeah, right.”

He grinned and shrugged. “Believe me or don’t, but it’s true. At least with you around, I’m getting a break.”

Y/N’s shoulders scrunched up high as she processed the new information. “He… likes me?”

Misha nodded. “Yup. He’s like a kid on a playground,” he told her. “If he dips your pigtails in ink tomorrow, don’t be upset. It’s like his mating call.”

Y/N cracked the first smile in days and hummed devilishly. “Hmm…”

“That’s a scary hmm,” Misha laughed.

“It is,” she agreed, turning to meet his gaze. “Maybe we can use this,” she said, lowering her voice to a harsh whisper. “Maybe we can prank him back.”

He laughed. “Yeah, that never works. I’ve tried.”

Again, Y/N’s brain turned in circles as her plan pieced together. “Hmm…”

Misha leaned back and watched her think. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

Carrie walked into the kitchen, her face covered in bruises; a tiny butterfly bandage above her eyelid holding together a deep cut. She tiptoed down the steps and skirted the perimeter, eyes ever on Dean who sat alone at the table. He nursed a beer, two empty bottles haphazardly lined up next to it.

“Rough night?” she asked, her voice cracking with nervous emotion.

Dean didn’t look at her. He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a long sip, his eyes closing as the brew flooded his tongue. He came up with a heavy breath. “Rough life.”

She nodded and took a step towards him. “Yeah. I don’t doubt it.” Bare feet were sticky on the tile as she went to him, stopping at the edge of the table. “Do you wanna-”

“Talk about it?” he snapped, cutting her off, looking up with pained, red-rimmed eyes. “No. Do you?”

Meekly, Carrie shook her head. “No.”

She started to turn, meaning to leave him alone to wallow, but Dean’s hand shot out to grab her wrist, pulling her down to him. He looked up, a little drunk, mostly guilty.

“Why are you still here?” he whispered, tears choking his deep voice.

Her bottom lip trembled as his grip tightened. “W-what do you mean?”

Dean sat up, drawing closer to her, gaze digging into her soul. “Why are you still here? I almost killed you.”

She swallowed hard and leaned down, breath passing over his lips like a warm breeze. He closed his eyes but the kiss never landed. She pressed her cheek to his and whispered in his ear. “Because I can’t leave you…”

Dean’s eyes welled with tears.

Y/N’s whisper continued as the camera zoomed in over her shoulder on Dean’s reaction. “Because all I can think about is taking you out back and sucking your big, juicy cock over and over until you die of dehydration.”

Jensen choked on his own spit, so shocked by her words. He coughed to clear his throat and the scene was dead.

“Cut!”

Y/N pulled back and stared down at him, daring him to say anything. Jensen was stunned, looking up with wide eyes.

She winked.

He shivered.

“Back it up! Reset!”

Carrie tiptoed down the steps into the kitchen, bruised and battered from the night before. She saw Dean and shivered, body tensing up as she walked the edges of the room

“Rough night?” she asked, voice shaking.

Dean ignored her and lifted the bottle to his lips. “Rough life.”

Carrie took a step towards him. “Yeah. I don’t doubt it.” She floated towards him, nervous but needing to help. “Do you wanna-”

“Talk about it?” he growled, looking up at her.

Y/N let her eyes go soft and parted her lips. The tip of her tongue shot out to slowly drag across her bottom lip. Jensen swallowed hard.

“No,” Dean snit. “Do you?”

Carrie shook her head. “No.”

She started to leave but Dean reached for her wrist, pulling her down to him. He looked up and gasped.

Y/N puckered her lips into a perfect circle and Jensen couldn’t think of anything else but her mouth wrapped around his cock.

“W-Why are you... s-still here?” he whispered, chest heaving, eyes gazing over.

Carrie’s lip trembled “What do you mean, Dean?”

Y/N spoke his name with half a moan and Jensen squirmed in his seat, feeling his dick grow.

“Uh…Um...Why? W-why are-”

“Cut!”

Thrice more, Jensen mucked up the scene. Staring at Y/N, he couldn’t get any words to properly form, let alone a tear to fall. She licked her lips, batted her lashes, sucked her fingers, moaned in his ear. The closer they got to finishing the scene, the harder she teased him, and in the end, he could barely stand.

Dean stood quickly and Carrie backed away, afraid he would strike her again. Her wrist was snagged in his hand, his grip unbreakable.

“Let me go!” she demanded, twisting in his grasp.

Dean walked her backwards until she hit the countertop, her breath pushing out in a shocked huff.

“Dean!”

He kissed her silent, releasing her hand only to hold her cheeks, push his breath into her, his pain, his guilt.

“I’m sorry.”

She licked his kiss from her lips and closed her eyes. “I know.”

“Cut! We got it!”

Jensen dropped his hands from Y/N’s cheeks but didn’t back away right away. She bucked her hips forward and he groaned deep in the back of his throat. He was hard against her, his erection straining in his jeans.

The crew carried on their business and slowly, Jensen backed away, clasping his hands in front of his crotch.

“You figured it out,” he said with a faint laugh.

Y/N tongued her cheek and looked away, over his shoulder. “I had a little help from an angel,” she confessed.

Jensen dropped his head. “Damnit Misha.”

Y/N lifted her eyes to his. “Damnit, nothing.” She cocked her head and leaned close. “Wanna go get that drink now?”

Jensen’s lips puckered and he let out a slow breath. “Hell yes.”

2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@aditimukul @agirlwithdemonblood @akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @charred-angelwings @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @djs8891 @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @deansyahtzee @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @iamsapphine @idreamofdeanie @ilsawasanacrobat @impalaspixie @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @justcallmeasmodeus @kazsrm67 @kittenofdoomage @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @mariekoukie6661 @maggiegirl17 @pandaxo79 @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @roseblue373 @sacriceria @samwellwinchesterthebrave @sexyvixen7 @spideysimpossiblegirl @spnexploration @stevekempscocktails @the-wounded-healer05

#spn rpf #spn fanfic #jensen ackles x reader #fluff drama pranks set life #one shot

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thisisourlovestory · 4 months

Text

Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Word count- 2.8k

Notes: Merry Christmas! Thank you to everyone who’s read this so far and to my beta reader who has hyped me up about this whole thing. I’m going to try and update once a week but occasionally it may take a bit longer or less depending on how much I work on it since I am writing it as I go. Hope you enjoy! Also who here knows how to make the masterlist thingymajobs? Because I don't and I want to make one

Chapter 2

A scream shattered the silence and my hand was up in the air before I even knew what I was doing as I uttered those four dreaded words.

“I volunteer as tribute!”

The second I said them Lysander was practically jumping in delight, a grin spread across his face as wide as can be as he proclaimed loudly.

“I believe we have a volunteer.” I stepped forward, ignoring the shocked looks Annie and Mags were throwing my way. Lysander babbled on and on for a few minutes about ‘how exciting for a victor to volunteer’, how ‘he was sure none of the other districts would have tributes’. I felt like throwing up, looking out into a sea of faces, most of them open mouthed, a few simply confused as if wondering who the hell I even was. I saw a couple of people who I used to know, refusing to meet my eyes. My ballet shoes hung by my side, a heavy weight pulling down, anchoring me to reality as my mind drifted.

I turned to Lysander and gave him a pathetic attempt at a smile, lips tilting upwards slightly, a flash of white teeth for a second. “Please,” he said, “Shake hands.”

I didn't realise what he said until Finnick stepped forward and held out his hand to me. My eyebrows furrowed and I bit my lip, twisting the sleeves of my cardigan again, holding out my other arm to hold his hand loosely before pulling it back quickly as I felt my mark burn slightly. He looked confused for a moment before his expression cleared and he put on a charming smile, waving to the crowd. As for me, I stood there silently, chewing on my lip worriedly, wondering why I volunteered, why I didn't even hesitate.

“Your tributes for the 75th annual Hunger Games!” Lysander yelled to the crowd over their obedient clapping as peacekeepers pointed guns at them, threatening to shoot. All of a sudden we were herded off stage and I was dragged to the same room I had been in all those years ago, the paint still peeling, a splintered chair and table on dusty stone. I took a few steps in and collapsed on the floor, chest heaving as I tried to take in deep breaths. I curled my hands into fists, nails cutting into the soft skin of my hands, a few tears dripping down my face but I heard heavy footsteps down the corridor and quickly composed myself, brushing away the tears and standing up, elegantly sitting down in the chair as the door opened. Mags walked in, escorted by a guard who muttered.

“Five minutes.” And closed the door behind him. Mags stared at me for a second before walking over and placing a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at her and she mouthed one word. Why?

I smiled slightly as I answered.

“She doesn't deserve to die. She needs to live and I'll do everything I can to get Finnick out and back to her.” Mags looked confused so I rolled up my sleeve and showed her my wrist. “He's my soulmate,” she blinked quickly and I continued,”And he doesn't love me but he loves her and they deserve to live.” She looked angry and somehow managed to croak out a few words.

“What about you?” I patted her hand, standing up and looking out the window.

“I don't matter, I just want him to be safe and sound. I want him to be happy, even if it's not with me.” She looked at me pityingly, brown eyes filled with emotion as she folded me into her arms; I broke down, sobbing silently into her shoulder, tears soaking the fabric. “I just can't let him die, not if I can do something about it.” I managed to get out between hiccuping sobs and sniffles. She comforted me gently, stroking my hair with wrinkled hands and all too soon it was time for her to go.

The door swung open and Mags scurried out before they could drag her away, the last thing I saw of her was her long grey hair before another person walked in and the door was slammed shut behind them. Annie stood in front of me. Long auburn hair tangled, sea green eyes gazing at me curiously. She took in my puffy eyes and red face streaked with tears saying nothing as she kneeled down and took my hands in hers.

“Why did you do that?” She asked quietly, not looking me in the eye, “Why would you give up your life?”

“We aren't so dissimilar you and I.” I spoke, removing my hands from hers and laying them on my knees. “The games,” my voice cracked,”The games left us both broken beyond belief. The difference between us is that you had someone there to build you back up after you came out. I didn't. Or I did, but they didn't care enough to stay. We've both been dropped and shattered on impact but you've been fixed, mostly, the cracks are still there and with the right push it'll all come crashing down. But me, I've got nobody and nothing left, everyone left me to crumble to pieces as if I would just be fine, but I'm not, I'm just a pile of broken glass waiting for someone to finally care and put me back together. So I volunteered. Because you have everything to lose; I’ve got nothing left.” Annie said nothing, just watched me carefully,

“I'll get Finnick out for you,” I whispered,”You don't have to worry about him. I promise.” The door opened and she was led out, throwing a last glance over her shoulder at me, a strange look in her eyes as if she knew something I didn’t.

I was left alone to my thoughts again. Wrapping the ribbons of my shoes around my hands repetitively. Wondering what it would be like this time around. Would I even have a chance at survival? I dismissed that one immediately, with victors like the ones from districts 1 and 2, plus Katniss and Peeta from last year, I wasn't getting out alive. I was good but not that good. I could throw knives perfectly, fight in hand to hand combat and tie complex knots with lengths of rope, I was even half decent at using a bow and arrow. But compared to others I was weak.

The door creaked open again but this time no one entered except some peacekeepers in their white uniforms and masks, they dragged me out, gloved hands twisting my skin. I shook my arms out of their hold and glared at them, they let me loose and marched me along the corridor to the exit where a car would be waiting. They opened the side door and pushed me in. My head knocked against the metal and I hissed in annoyance but said nothing. The car pulled away from the justice building and I stared out at it for the last time, the carved marble flawless and perfect but oh so cold. My eyes trailed over the shapes of people outside, cheering my name; screaming for the games to stop. They hadn't even known who I was before, why did they care now? Why did they care just as I was sent off to my death once again? Why did they care when all they had ever done was pretend I didn't exist?

How could they stand there and scream my name, their beloved victor, when they had never before known me? How dare they pretend to care about me. How dare they think I wanted this. How dare they congratulate me on my actions when the choice didn't even exist to begin with. In those moments I was filled with nothing but disgust for the people of my district. We were supposed to be united against the Capitol yet here they were excited for me to go back in. Granted there was the idea that if they didn't then they would be made an example of by peacekeepers for not complying with orders. But behind every forced action there is a planted seed that was simply nurtured to form the fully fledged evil.

I sighed, propping my head up on my hand as we entered the station, reporters from the Capitol waiting for the chance to get a shot of Finnick or I. We jolted to a stop and Finnick stepped calmly out of the car in front, waving to people, giving them his charming smile, playing up to his persona as the Capitol darling. I took a deep breath as he disappeared from sight, people screaming for one last look at him, and pushed down the handle to open the door. I stepped out and was immediately assaulted by loud noises, too loud. They ripped through my skull and I flinched while I walked along the pathway that was cleared for me. They screamed my name and they wouldn't stop, it echoed in my head, their voices like nails as they raked down the walls I had built up in my mind to block out the bad and keep the good close. The peacekeepers surrounded my shaking form, tiny compared to the crowds gathered; herded me to the platform where the train was waiting. Sleek and silver, like a bullet, and just as fast as one.

I stumbled over the gap where the platform ended and the train doors opened, allowing me to topple to the floor in a graceless heap. I groaned and sat up, pressing a hand to the side of my head and frowning in annoyance as I felt the slightest of bruises there. My feet slipped out of my sandals so I picked them up in one hand alongside my pointe shoes and pushed myself to a standing position leaning on the wall of the train. I took a minute to calm myself, mentally preparing for the interesting conversation that was sure to come when I walked into the next compartment. I dropped my head forwards and wiped a hand over my face before sighing and reaching out to the handle, pushing it down.

I stepped in and three sets of eyes locked on me, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Hi.” I cleared my throat and they resumed their conversation. I relaxed in relief and dropped into a chair at the table, immediately reaching out for a plate. I filled it with all kinds of foods, meat, pasta, vegetables and more. A luxury I couldn't bring myself to afford with the money I had won, food I tended to steer clear of because in my mind it belonged to the Capitol and eating it made me one of them. But I figured I was going to die soon so I might as well indulge while I could. I speared a piece of fish and potato and it was halfway to my mouth when I noticed eyes on me again. Lysander was giving me a look of wonder as he leaned forwards onto his hands.

“So Y/N, tell me why did you volunteer? We need to know so we can spin this story to give you the best chance of winning that we can you see.” He smiled and bit into a leg of chicken, tearing the meat away with his teeth. My mind blanked, I couldn't exactly tell him the real reason I volunteered, that would not go down well with the current company, I glanced over to Finnick and my eyes widened as our eyes connected for a split second before I snapped my gaze back to my plate. I shrugged my shoulders and shoved the food in my mouth. Lysander’s mouth twisted into a scowl at my disregard for him and Mags, seated next to him, smiled down at her plate.

I swallowed my food and sipped on water in a glass next to me before I answered his question

“I didn't want her to die.” He spluttered in delight.

“I can work with that. A story of two best friends, one worried for the other's safety so she volunteers to save her from certain death.” I shook my head at his words.

“No. We aren't friends. I just didn't think she deserved to die and that's the only story you're going to tell.”

“But, but, but,” Lysander stammered under my glare.

“But nothing,” I said calmly, “There is no story, I volunteered because I felt sorry for her, nothing more nothing less. Now if you'll excuse me,” I shoved the chair back and stood up, “I'm going to my room and I don't want to see you, until morning.” With that I stormed out of the compartment, slamming the door shut behind me, rattling the ornaments and pictures hanging on the walls. My footsteps were heavy as I almost ran along the corridor, I finally reached the door I wanted and stared at it, remembering how seven years ago I had stood in the exact same spot.

My thoughts were pretty different about being in the Hunger Games now. Back then I had had no choice so it was just an unfortunate circumstance I found myself in with the added threat of death. Now it was more of an actual game and I suppose that was the point, throw previous victors into an arena together, seasoned killers, guaranteed chaos would ensue. They'd have the perfect show, death upon death that would look interesting and be absolutely brutal because the executioners would all know what they were doing. It would be the most viewed year of the games in history. They’d be making hunters into performers, fighting to stay alive for the cameras. Doing anything to gain sponsors. It wouldn’t surprise me if some people went too far. But most of all, we’d be angry. Angry that we had to go back, they’d promised we were done and now it seemed they lied.

I pushed the door open and stepped into the room. It smelled of fresh peaches and vanilla, the white bedsheet pulled tightly across the mattress, light green comforter spread across the duvet. I gently closed the door behind me and threw my sandals on the floor. I leapt onto the bed, sinking into the mountain of pillows piled up near the headboard. A headboard engraved with swirls of waves and shells to represent district 4, I looked closer and on every wave was a set of initials and a date, the initials of every other district 4 tribute in the history of the games and the date they were reaped. A tradition upheld by every new victim. I traced over my initials on one of the waves and picked up the knife I had taken a few minutes ago, I picked a new wave and ripped into it, my initials carved as deeply as possible. A message that I was not going easy. I would go but I would fight every step of the way.

I chucked the knife down and admired my handiwork. I was no artist but if I were this would be my best piece. Rolling over I stood up and made my way to the wardrobe. Opening it I found an assortment of clothes and night dresses. I picked out a white one that fell loosely to my knees and pulled my pointe shoes on, tying the ribbons around my ankles and standing up. Humming a song, I rose onto my toes, hands lifting above my head as I twirled around, the skirt floating around me. I kicked one leg into the air, leaning to the other side and bringing my arms close to my body, curving them in. I danced for what seemed like hours, lost in a world of my own as I spun around in circles, sweeping my arms above my head and out in front of me. Finally growing dizzy I stopped, one foot turned out in front of me, the other pointed behind me as I let my arms drop slowly to my side, my humming stopped and I opened my eyes. Remembering the reason I was here, to help Finnick. All urge to dance left me as I quietly undid the knotted ribbons, pulling the shoes off and staring at my feet, blistered and bruised. Plasters taped on them to stop the cuts being infected. I climbed into the bed, pulling the sheets over my body, shivering as the cold fabric touched my skin and then burrowing further into the warmth it provided. I yanked the comforter closer. Rubbing my cheek on the fluffy material, hand reaching out to turn off the lights, switch just in reach making a sharp clicking sound as I flipped it. My eyes started to drift closed in the darkness, my limbs tired from the exhausting day and I fell into dark oblivion.

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#finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick odair x you #catching fire #angst #the hunger games #thg x reader #thg series #implied finnick x annie

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sheeple · 3 months

Text

Miracles don't exist | 35: The cellar

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Torture / mutilation / time is weird in this one [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

The Death Eaters drag you kicking and screaming down the hall. They've managed to disarm you before you could do sustainable damage to any of them. You trash in their hold, trying your best to get out and run. Maybe you even have a chance to snatch your wand.

You let out a groan as they throw you on the ground. A hand reaches out and grabs a fistful of your hair. You whimper and move along with the hand. Bellatrix has a sneer on her face as she presses her wand into your neck.

"For how long have you been spying on us?"

You shake your head as much as her hold permits. "I haven't-"

"LIAR!", she screeches and raises her wand. A hot red flash passes over you before your body contorts painfully. You let out a yell. The feeling of millions of knives piercing your body. "TRAITOR!"

By the time the curse had let up, you're breathless. Your head lulls to the side, tears in your eyes. And to be honest, the only thing you can think about is that you're glad Theo isn't here.

She shoves something in your face. A letter. The same one you wrote during the Ministry hearing. It must have fallen out of your pocket during the chase. Yaxley for sure must have picked it up.

"That isn't... mine." Determined, you look at Bellatrix and give her a sneer.

Bellatrix raises her hand and strikes you. Your cheek stings and flares up as you feel your nose starting to bleed again. "You dare to betray the Dark Lord?! Betray your own kin?! You should be killed!" Bellatrix raises her wand again, a murderous glint in her eyes.

You don't flinch. If you're going to die, you'll die fighting. Collecting the blood in your mouth, you spit it in Bellatrix's face. An audible gasp goes around the room as they watch the red glob hit her face.

"Go ahead, kill me. You were never my family", you hiss, giving her a cold stare, "I wish you would have rotted away in Azkaban."

Bellatrix shrieks, going absolutely ballistic. She summons a knife and holds you down. First, you’re hit with another round of crucio so you stop struggling in her hold. You can handle that. But then… The point of a knife gets slowly pressed into the flesh of your collarbone before the spell has run its course. You try to wiggle away, crying and sobbing as the pain only multiplies as Bellatrix carves something in your flesh.

It feels like it goes on for hours. At one point you stopped moving, seeing no will to do so. You stare off into the distance, seeing the Malfoy's stand huddled together. Draco looks horrified while Narcissa clings to Lucius.

Is there no one who would stand up for you? No one would save you from this torture? Yes, but you’ve sent that someone away. For his safety. Yes, everything for Theodore’s safety.

By the time Bellatrix is done, you're halfway passed out. You barely notice how you are grabbed and dragged somewhere. Somewhere dark where the door slams loudly and a heavy lock turns.

You lay curled up on the cold floor, your body twitching and gasping for breath. In between the ringing in your ears, you hear footsteps approaching you.

"Please", you gasp, "no more. Please..." Rolling to your belly, you do your best to crawl away from whomever it may be that is ordered to do your next round of Crucio.

"Miss Black?", asks a soft voice and you stop. You roll back and look at the person who said your name. Mr Olivander

A relieved sob escapes you. At least he won't hurt you.

The older man — who looks worse for wear — gives you a small smile. "Miss Black- or should I say Mrs Nott? Cedar, almost 13 inches, swishy, with a core of unicorn hair, if I am not mistaken." Mr Ollivander nods and walks off, returning with a lantern.

With much difficulty, you push yourself into a seated position. "Oh... you're bleeding, dear." He points to your collarbone. You reach out but hiss as the flesh is still tender.

You look around, your eyes adjusting to the dark. "Where are we?"

Mr Ollivander hands you a small bowl of water. Your hands still shake as you take it gratefully and take slow sips. "We're in the cellar." The old man groans as he goes to sit against a wall.

He looks deadly pale and his cheeks are fallen in. "How... how long have you been down here?", you ask carefully. He must be the one you've heard screaming a while back.

Mr Olivander's shoulders slump. "I'm afraid I do not know. Time moves differently down here. It's made so no witch or wizard can use their magic to escape."

The wandmaker spoke the truth. Despite the once-a-day meals — at least, you think it is. Could be a once-in-many-days with the way your body aches — there is no indicator if it's day or time.

Draco often sneaks you and Mr Olivander extra food. It's mostly in the form of an apple which he rolls through the bars of the door. You turn away every time he whispers your name, his hands clutching the bars tightly. Only after he leaves deflated, do you scramble to eat the apple.

As time passes Mr Olivander and you get cellmates. At first, it's Griphook. He's a sour man who distrusts any who's a witch or wizard. He mostly sits in the corner and grumbles to himself.

Next is Luna. You're actually happy and at the same time sad to see her. You throw your arms around her and squeeze her tightly. "Are you okay? Are you broken? Does something bleed?" You turn her over and rake your eyes over her front to see if any blood has seeped into her clothes.

"I am fine. I however do not know where I am." She looks around before her eyes fall on Mr Olivander. She makes her way over to him and strikes up a conversation as if it's a normal Tuesday at tea time.

Running a hand over your face, you turn towards her. "What date is it?"

"The Christmas break has just started."

The shock dawns upon you when you count out the months. It's been three months. Three months trapped in this blasted cellar. You knew it was more than a couple of weeks, as your wound has healed and is only a scar now.

Oh Merlin, Theo must think that you've died. That either Bellatrix or Voldemort have killed you. Tortured you before ending your life abruptly and too soon.

You slide down a wall, hand clasped over your mouth as tears spill out of your eyes. You stay like that for Salazar knows how long. The heartache of the idea that Theodore mourns your death makes you immobile with sorrow. It feels pointless to move if you can't communicate with him that you're indeed alive.

What you can only assume are months passing by before something happens. There is screaming from upstairs before someone's coming down the stairs. You hide in the dark, pressing yourself up against the wall as two people get pushed inside.

The two figures rush towards the gate. "What are we gonna do? We can't leave Hermione alone with her."

Luna slowly creeps forward and calls out a name. "Ron? Harry?"

The two figures turn around and as a light flickers on, it indeed are Ron and Harry. Harry's face looks pretty busted up.

Slowly everyone comes out of their hiding spot now. The two boys' eyes fall upon you. Harry rushes towards you, wanting to hug you. But you flinch away, hiding behind a pillar. Harry stops with a frown on his face. "What happened to you?"

An agonising scream is heard from upstairs and your stomach drops as you recognise the voice. Hermione. "Oh no", you whisper, moving closer to the door. You flinch as she screams out. Involuntarily, a whimper escapes you. You can imagine what Bellatrix is doing with her.

"We have to do something!" Ron turns towards the group, a distraught expression on his face.

Mr Olivander shakes his head. "There is no way out of here. We've tried everything! It's enchanted."

Another whimper escapes you and you lean your forehead against the icy bars as Hermione pleads and screams.

Harry crouches down and takes something out of his sock. A shard or something. He speaks to it, begging for help.

Wormtail comes scurrying down the stairs, wand in hand and pushing Ron and Harry away. He takes Griphook before he's gone again.

Ron returns the light and at the moment Dobby appears. He stumbles a bit but is overall happy to see Harry. "Dobby? What are you doing here?"

"Dobby has come to rescue Harry Potter of course! Dobby will always be there for Harry Potter!"

You take a good look at the elf. It has been some years since you've seen him. Harry actually made Lucius free Dobby in your second year. You know that because your uncle loudly complained to the whole manor how annoying it was that they lost a house elf.

Dobby seems to spot you and bows to you. "Miss Black! It is good to see you alive."

You give him a small and tired smile. "Happy to see you too, Dobs."

"Wait- are you saying you can apparate in and out of this room?", Harry realises. Of course, the Dark Lord's minions didn't house elf-proof the cellar. They're idiots.

And so a plan is hatched. Dobby firstly take you, Luna, and Mr Olivander to some address Ron provided.

"No", you protest, "I want to help. I want to fight. I want to hurt them like they hurt me!" Tears fill your eyes.

Harry shakes his head. "You're in no condition to fight. You have to go to safety."

Reluctantly, you hold one of Dobby's hands with Luna and you are pulled and squeezed before you land on something wett. Sand.

Hurling, you puke up the joke of a meal you've been provided with. Falling over, you lay on your back and stare up at the sky. Never once in your life, you've been so happy to see it being overcast.

Pressing the balls of your hands into your eyes, the first whimper escapes you before you start to weep. You're okay. It's finally over. You're out of that blasted cellar.

The only clear though is that you have to find a way to track down your Teddy and hope he hasn't been doing anything stupid in your name.

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