#asshole had the nerve to stop right before he rammed while i was making a left turn at a FOUR WAY ROUNDABOUT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pa-panda-heroes · 4 years ago

Text

blue hour.

demon!au!dabi x reader nsfw; find the sequel here

Inspired (sorta) by this post. This was initially a 400 followers celebration fic but took so long I got to 500, plus it’s Halloween!! 🎃🎃🎃

i listened to Mothica’s song Blue Hour while i wrote this and honestly fell in love with it. hence the name! please go give her a listen!

Minors, go away. This content is not for you.

Warnings: brief description of kidnapping, tiny mentions of religion (nonspecified tho!) and human sacrifice, injury + blood mention, foul language, brief cremation, Dabi being horny (hehe), Dabi absolutely 100% not using magic on you nope, thigh fucking, orgasm denial, biting, dirty talk, degradation?, spanking, overstimulation, dumbification if you squint?

Words: 14k+

Summary: Kidnapped and held as an offering to an ominous demon, you thought your death was near. Soon enough you find your captor dead and the demon you were offered to becomes your savior. Dabi clearly has plans for you, but what are they? Or was everything just a dream?

Your heartbeat thrummed within your ears, sweat sweltering and becoming a thick layer on your skin all over, making the fabric of your clothes cling to it ever-so-uncomfortably. It felt like you were being smothered from head to toe in fabric. The cooled blood that began just above your temple and trickled all the way down your face and neck had dried by now, acting as a crusty reminder of the reason behind the throbbing in your head. Trees swayed in the chilly winds that passed, making the cool air even colder - yet here you were, sweating like there was no tomorrow. You were bound by the wrists and ankles to a musty wooden pole in a forest you’d never seen before, the sky dark yet bright for the blue moon. The stars looked so free, so beautiful, so serene tonight. Yet you didn’t feel it.

Your breathing was quick, panicked, and hurried to the extent that you’d take in more oxygen by breathing less. Your poor, puffy lip was numb from having been chewed on so much, to the point where you couldn’t remember whether you were a chronic lip biter or not; but you sure were, now. That is, until he gagged you by tying an old handkerchief around your face. You struggled against your scratchy, dry restraints so much, they began to dig into your skin and bleed, sending a trail of blood down your arms and a jolt of burning, throbbing, stinging pain through your nerves.

You were far from alone.

The only other human body you knew of was the one who put you in the position you currently find yourself in after a night of dancing, booze, and sweat. The inebriation from the alcohol made you an easy target, you guessed. God damn it all.

The night began with your celebrating a friend’s birthday at a club, drinking, dancing, and making merry. You had regretted agreeing to go at first after having a long, agonizingly tiring day at work, which gave you the burning desire to wrap up after a bath and lay in bed until the next day when you’d have to get up again. But as the night progressed, you were glad you tagged along; after all, it was an unexpectedly nice release after a bad day.

Now you were regretting it again.

If only you hadn’t gone to the club.

If only hadn’t agreed even if begrudgingly to go.

If only you hadn’t left your apartment.

You made the mistake of trying to find a bathroom on your own and ended up in an alleyway. The last thing you saw was a filthy dumpster before it all went black, and upon waking you found yourself bound in this horrifying forest.

Around you was a circular dirt clearing bordered with a solid line and filled with various marks made upon it, ones that you’d never seen before. They looked to be of a lost, long-dead language - the language your masked captor was evidently speaking as he sat on his knees with his hands in the air before a makeshift altar of a sort. There was some distance between him and the altar, probably about two meters, that being the same distance he sat from you as you watched in horror.

He was going to kill you, but not before torturing you - or other things. For some hideous purposes that looked a lot to do with a demon or something. All because you were a virgin that just so happened to cross his path.

You tried making noises, tried screaming, but it made no difference. He wouldn’t stop his hideous chanting and no one could hear you anyway. The thick forest swallowed your every scream and the gag held back your every cry. More tears run down your cheeks at your predicament, your struggling against your binds only digging into and stinging your skin as piping hot blood continued to trail down your tender wrists and ankles. It felt like frostbite was setting in. Was it actually, or was it your nerves?

A pillar of black smoke began to rise from the ground in front of your masked captor, who then bowed with his forehead to the ground. Your own heart was beating in your ears so quickly you thought it would explode any minute. If only it would - you wouldn’t have to endure this any longer.

“What... the hell do you want?” you hear a voice boom, distorted in such a way that made it sound like it echoed a thousand times. “Filthy human.”

“Your favor, my lord. I offer you this virgin.”

You try screaming again, your throat beginning to feel scratchy and dry. It almost felt like it was bleeding. Could it be bleeding? Your mind was almost a haze, now.

You can see a form emerge from the ground where the black smoke stands, and you’re stunned and scared into total silence as you see the silhouette of two large wings and a pointed tail. Other than that, the silhouette appears mostly human. But it’s not.

“My favor, eh?” you hear the voice again. The silhouette swings his arm and with it vanishes the smoke, and the reality that this... thing isn’t human finally settles in your heart. His hair is black and spiky, there are pieces of what look to be burnt flesh under his minty eyes and the lower half of his face, bound to the unblemished skin by silvery staples that seemed to spit steam. Three dotted piercings adorned his nose, and plenty more his ears. His wings reminded you of a bird’s with feathers and all, and they were a flat charcoal in colour, albeit they seemed a little worse for wear and severely burnt. The demon’s horns poked out from each side of his forehead and curled around like that of a ram’s. He wore a dark, simple cloak.

You almost wondered if he had goat hooves for feet.

He looks down on the human who summoned him, literally and figuratively, it seemed. His eyes narrow viciously at the man, before jolting to you - and you, honest to all that exists, feel what you can only think of as a bolt of lightning course through every nerve - no, cell - of your body before it feels like your heart stops beating. You can feel the blood coursing in your veins, and it’s ice-cold, all of this forcing you to tense every muscle you’re able. He looks away and you’re instantly back to normal, slouching in your restraints.

“Is this asshole bothering you, little one?” the voice of what’s clearly a demon rings.

“I-I beg your pardon, m’lord Dabi?”

“Shut your trap, moron.” Clusters of the brightest, bluest flames you’d ever seen erupt above each of the demon’s eyes and he leans downward to grab the man by his neck, before easily lifting him in the air as the human choked. “Y’know, back in the day, sacrifices in some cultures were an honor. It was seen as a gift, a way to serve ancient - nonexistent, mind you - gods. People vied to become a sacrificial lamb. I’m ancient, too, you know that.”

The human man stammers and stutters, trying to say something coherent but failing out of fear.

Dabi lets the man rest his feet on the ground as he jerks your captor to look at you, and you want to just shrink into yourself. “What the fuck is that, huh? Do you see the fear in her eyes? The bruises covering her body? The blood seeping down her arms as she fights against that rope? Does that look like a willing sacrifice to you? Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t think she is willing at all.”

You blink. What? How? Why?

“You piss me off.”

Dabi throws the masked man to the ground away from him, then raising his palm into the air and summoning flames to filter out of the ground. They swallow him hole, and whilst he’s screaming in agony and burning alive, the demon turns on his heel and saunters your way. “Well, this is quite a mess, eh, dear?” His eyebrows are pointed upward, almost as if the gentle tone behind his words is sincere, yet almost as if there is deviance behind them.

You can’t help but gulp at the look in his eyes. Smile and arch his brows as he might, he was still clearly a demon unfitting of your trust. Right? He was going to hurt you. Surely.

His hands reach up for your face and you shut your eyes tight and turn away.

Much to your surprise, fingers work away at the handkerchief splitting open your poor, stretched, and saliva-coated lips, and you nearly gasp at the relief of pressure on them, the ache in your cheeks quite apparent and downright agonizing. Not only that, but the corners of your mouth were rubbed raw, and you weren’t sure if there was saliva mixing with more saliva, or blood mixing with saliva at the site. Dabi drags a finger from the corner of your mouth up to your cheek to wipe away the tears staining your skin, and you have no strength to fight the shiver that runs up your spine as your eyes fall half-lidded.

“Fuck me, you’re lookin’ a bit worse for wear, little one,” you hear him coo. “Easy, babe. You’re alright. That ugly, scary man’s all gone.” He seems to chuckle at the irony, before a toothy smirk splits his lips. His teeth are sharp, certainly enough to puncture skin without much effort, and you shiver again.

You’re quickly relieved of your bounds, but with the little strength you have left, you’re not able to stand on your own and collapse into his chest, spent and sore. He’s warm. It’s... nice. Fuzzy. Cloudy. Soft. Where are you, again? What’s going on? Why is everything spinning?

Everything fades to black.

:·•·:

You groan and turn over in your bed, pulling the fluffy covers up closer to your head as your body ached. You were warm and settled in, nothing could make you leave the comforts of your bed, yet you knew you needed to. To explain the achy joints, you tried reminiscing the night before. You remembered that night. Parts of it, anyway. When you tried to remember the feeling of being bound or the blood trickling down your wrists, nothing came up. When you tried remembering the chanting of your captor - nothing. It seemed that any parts which could be deemed... unsavory were gone from your memory. You brought your wrists up and felt around them and-

Also gone were any wounds.

It was odd. You could remember it all happening, but at the same time, you couldn’t. Must’ve been some whacked out dream induced by the alcohol.

You had no want to, but you sat up in bed and reached over to your nightstand to switch he clock around so you could see it. It read about half an hour after midday, and you sighed. How long were you asleep? You picked up your phone from the nightstand and switched it on, your heart leaping into your throat at the amount of notifications. Texts, emails, calls, there were dozens upon dozens of them.

“How long was I asleep?!” you shriek.

“Enough to nearly get evicted.”

Your head jolts up so quickly you hear your neck crack, and you see the demon leaning against the wall in front of your bed. You can’t help but gasp and scoot away, your back banging against the headboard of your bed. It wasn’t a dream.

He waves his hand lazily. “But don’t worry, I got it covered. Congrats, you have free rent for life, now.” His wings, horns, and tail are all gone, and he almost looks human, save for the staples and scars. You guess he can’t change his appearance much. Perhaps he doesn’t want to.

The teeth showing off from his smirk look just as sharp as before, however.

Your eyes are drawn to the huggies piercing the cartilage of his ears. They’re as shiny and plentiful as you remember. Your heart rate spikes, and you begin to breathe heavily.

“That soreness is probably from you bein’ out so long, sweets,” he comments, arms crossed in front of his chest, his right ankle also crossed over his left. His voice is smooth and a clear attempt at comforting you - yet there’s something behind it.

“Th-thank you. For saving me, and... the rent... I guess.” You hoped he would leave if you thanked him. Why else would he stick around?

He only shrugs, though. “Sorry, little one, but you’re not special. That sacrifice wasn’t done right in the first place.”

‘Ouch!’

Ah, you remembered that, now. But you couldn’t remember his name.

“What’s your name?” you ask hesitantly. He’s obviously not going to kill you by now. Why would he stick around?

“Dabi.”

“That’s it?” You tilt your head. You were surprised at how... nonchalant you were beginning to feel about this. The longer he stood there, the more it felt normal.

“That’s it, dollface.”

:·•·:

He ended up not having goat hooves for feet.

You knew there was a catch to being saved by that demonic bastard.

Aside from the fact that he wouldn’t leave you alone, keeping a demon cooped up in your apartment wasn’t easy. It especially wasn’t easy when said demon was constantly on your heels, pressed right up against your back. Personal space was not in his vocabulary. Dabi was constantly up to something, and he loved to harass or scare your neighbors with his devilish form; it was just too easy. “What else have I got to do while you’re gone all day?” he’d say. “Gotta entertain myself, somehow, doll.”

Apparently, it had been a long time since someone had summoned him at all, let alone with an offering of some kind. He hadn’t seen the mortal realm in hundreds of years, and because you were offered to him, he decided to stick around you. You only agreed to it as long as he never left your apartment.

Well, technically. He wasn’t actually giving you a choice, he was going to stick around anyway. Dabi so loved giving innocent mortals the impression that they were in control when they never truly were. The demon practically got off on the idea of giving a helpless little thing like you a false sense of security.

Having him essentially stuck to your hip, you couldn’t let him cause any trouble with the human world, be it harmless pranks or downright murder; hence why you left a line of salt in front of every opening to your place one day, to keep him home. He was a curious demon, a sketchy one.

And a bit of a horny one, at that.

If the groping or peeking in on your showers wasn’t enough of a clue, the fact that he did everything else in his power to seduce you certainly was.

Demons don’t sleep. They’re immortal, they don’t need to. Yet, as you lay snuggled up in your bed at night, he always snuck in with you to poke and prod at you, the exchange usually ending with you kicking him out of bed - sometimes literally. Other times, he’d randomly lean into your ear and say the filthiest things you’d ever heard - and then some, obviously - to get a rise out of you, giving him the opportunity to tease you about unconsciously clenching your thighs, whether it was for friction or out of denial.

You were starting to think he was a damn incubus.

But no, he denied that. He looked almost insulted when you made the insinuation before explaining that incubi and succubi are one and the same, changing back and forth between male and female. First as a succubus, the demon collects... “seed,” and then transforms into an incubus to “plant” it. He could change his physical appearance if he so wished, but he never had much want or need to, save for hiding away or using his devilish form; nor could he procreate, he was so proud to tell you.

It seemed the fact that you were a virgin only spurred him on to seduce you. With Dabi being the vile and damned being that he is, you thought he wouldn’t give a damn (ha) if you consented or not at first. The thought was honestly horrifying. Yet not once had he forced you or went too far. It was “poor taste,” he once said, there being no fun in it. You wondered if his rule of consenting sacrifices played a part in his discipline.

And of course, Dabi would go on about how badly he, a demon, an unsavory being to say the least, wanted to be the one to take your virginity and “defile” you, “the pure, innocent treat that you are.”

Defile? Really?

And treat?

‘Pick better wording next time you sex-starved, pointy-tail-having, staple-wearing, horned son of a bitch,’ you thought sarcastically, shoving dishes into their proper places after having dried them. He’d left you alone for most of the day, talking to you and treating you like he was a normal human being. ‘Then, maybe I’d consider letting you get your dick wet.’

Would you, though?

Nah...

Right.

One of the plates was a little wet still, and managed to slip out of your hand and shatter on the counter in front of you. You yelped when a shard cut into your palm after you’d instinctively reached to catch the plate, failing miserably. “Dammit,” you mutter, holding your left hand up to inspect the cut. From the looks of it, no stitches were needed, but it still stung like hell.

You should’ve known better than to think he cooled his jets for the day, because in an instant he’s standing next to your left side and reaching for your wrist.

“It’s fine, just a tiny cut,” you mutter, quirking a brow as he seemingly glares at the wound. “I think I’ve got a first-aid kit somewhere... Have to keep it clean, at least.”

“Nah, don’t need it,” he mutters, before pulling your hand toward his mouth. His tongue slithers out from between his lips and drags along the cut in your palm, the wet appendage searing against your skin.

A shiver runs down your spine at the sensation, and yet another soars when you see the hungry, predatory look in his eyes, which are fixed on your wound. You can’t help the gulp that sounds from your tight throat, or the yelp that fights out of your lips when his whole mouth latches onto the fatty part of your thumb where the cut is. Your knees begin to feel weak and your eyes fall half-lidded.

Dabi sucks on the flesh there, licking the wound occasionally as well. His eyes then flicker to yours, and they burn into you like no other ever has. You feel the heat of a blush trail up your neck and to your cheeks and ears, your heart thrumming in your chest and lips slowly falling open just a tad as he licks away at the opening in your skin.

“Ah-“

The demon pulls away with a pop from one final suck of your flesh, whilst a trail of his saliva - do demons have saliva?! - hung between your hand and his mouth. “See? Take a look.” He pushes your hand towards your view, and amidst the clear wetness on your skin, you see no wound at all.

Your mind flips back to the wounds you should have had from that night.

“Back then... did you... y’know...”

“Naah. There’s spells and the like for bigger stuff like that,” he explains nonchalantly with a shrug. He almost seems proud of himself with his next line. “Tiny paper cuts like this can be taken care of with good ol’ fashioned demon spit. It’s nice, huh?”

You deadpan at him. “No, it’s totally gross.”

Dabi chuckles at you, waving a hand as if to wave you off. “Admit it. Your virgin ass enjoyed it.” His words are crass, but you know he’s only teasing and they’re not meant to insult.

Yet it still riles you up.

That heat crawls up your neck again, and you huff at him. “Shut up!” you gripe, then turning away from him to at least try to clean up the dish shards. There was nothing wrong with being a virgin! A lot of people wait for the right person, or they just aren’t ready. People have their reasons, and there’s no shame in it! Just like there’s no shame in being the opposite. As long as it’s healthy, that’s all that matters!

“Jerk! You seem to forget whose apartment you’re squatting in!” you grumble, scooting the pieces of the plate you broke together - ever so gently - with a washcloth from the sink. “I could kick you out, y’know.” You forgot for a short moment that he managed to achieve free rent for life for you, but you told yourself it wouldn’t matter anyway. It was still your apartment, after all.

“Really, now?” The demon scoffs, then leaning against the counter and crossing his arms - clearly at you. “How would you go about that, little mouse?” His tone is unconvinced and sultry, the look on his face painted with doubt.

You avoided eye contact with him and perused the kitchen for a plastic bag before marching back to the mess of plate shards and trying to sweep them off the counter and into the bag. “I’d exorcise you,” you mutter. Finding a priest in this area would prove difficult, but you could manage to find one willing to travel. You could do it if needed.

Dabi only laughs you off, though. The sound is smooth and velvety, yet you’re left to describe it as littered with smoke and ecstasy. “C’mon, doll! That wouldn’t work,” he says finally. “Besides, we both know you don’t wanna do that. You like havin’ my sorry ass around too much, eh?”

“Ha! You’re right about you being a sorry ass,” you sass with a huff before tossing the bag into the waste-bin.

Oddly enough, while you’d never tell Dabi this and end up stroking his already massive ego, you felt safer with him around. It was hard to pinpoint why. Nothing had happened for him to be called to protect you; however, you lived in a less than savory part of town, which wasn’t entirely unbearable, but shit still happens. And you’ve already been abducted once, leading to your acquaintance with this horny (I’m more ways than one) asshole. Maybe it was because you knew part of what he can do, all that aside. Push comes to shove, he’d protect you, right?

That was a nice thought to have, if a bit naive, you thought.

He was a demon, not a guardian angel of some sort. He had no obligations to you.

Yet here he was, still living with you over a month after that awful night.

Your thoughts are completely swept away when you’re pushed by the hips against the counter with your back to it, your hands instinctively bracing the edge on each side of your hips for support. The demon’s face is immediately in front of yours, his breath easily filling your nostrils with an ashen smell. You see those horns of his again and have to fight the urge to reach up and grab one, maybe even give it a tug. He’d probably cremate you for it.

Could he hear your thoughts? Previous instances somewhat insinuated that he could, but he never admitted to it - or denied it.

Dabi was right. You don’t want to get rid of him. Especially not when he’s looking at you like that. There is an intensity in those half-lidded, fiery eyes of his that has never before been directed at you by anyone, and it leaves you wishing you could read his thoughts. Are his eyes merely looking at your own, or are they bearing into your soul, calculating and appraising it?

What you can tell is that it’s full of impatience and want. Greed. Lust. And so much of it all.

You tilt your chin down a bit and look up at him with a gulp quietly. You can’t think of anything to say, and tension builds within your chest as you search; you feel as if that silence ought to be filled, yet here you are, at a loss for words as you stare at your own reflection in his glossy eyes. On the other hand, he seems totally content letting you lie in it, letting you squirm for him as he smirks.

And so you look away, bringing your hands to your chest and holding them there bashfully. The sleeves of your sweater are soft and warm and plush - just how Dabi would describe you right now.

This maneuver of yours not being what he wanted, Dabi scowls a bit and grabs your chin to essentially force you to look at him, his thumb ghosting over the softness of your lower lip. He tilts his head at you almost curiously, perhaps evaluating your reaction as it’s been so long since he has seen or felt the mortal world. Those eyes narrow at you, though not out of ire. Dabi’s thumb pokes at the crevice between your lips, and the rest of his fingers on your jaw tug downward.

Confused, you comply anyway and part your lips for him, only for his thumb to invade your mouth and press hard on your tongue, coaxing you to gag and instinctively grasp both hands on his wrist. You attempt to pull it away, to relieve the pressure in your mouth, but he doesn’t want that.

Hell, in reality, neither do you. You just don’t feel like gagging and clouding your vision with tears.

Aw, you poor dear.

With a contemplative hum he pulls his appendage out of your mouth and holds it not far from your mouth, as if planning another venture into your wet cavern. You can’t help but stare at the string of saliva still connecting your lips and his hand as it glistens in the low lighting of your kitchenette.

“Open back up for me,” he huskily demands, but it’s not cruel and dictating, so you comply, entranced as if under a spell. But you know you’re not. This time, it’s his forefinger and middle finger that roam between your teeth, and as if he had told you to do so telepathically, you close your lips around them. With an innocent, doll-eyed look, you suck his fingers and lick at them with your tongue, earning yourself hushed praises and a searing trail of touches up your ribcage and back down. You continue to lick away, occasionally wrapping your tongue around his digits or cradling them as you suck on them, coating them in your saliva as some of it trails out one of the corners of your mouth. They feel cold, as if there was a lack of circulation, and it only spurs you on to warm them with the toasty cavern of your mouth and soft plushness of your tongue.

You’re sure you’re less than apt at this, but the praise and touch you’re receiving helps you feel less... off.

Dabi leans in for your ear, his hot breath against your cartilage sending a chill down your spine before his wet tongue laps at it, and you jump in your skin at the burning, completely unknown sensation. It’s so hot it almost stings, but it’s not painful; tingly, maybe. In the process you lean away to your left a bit, at which he seems to pause. But then you lean back as if to tell him to go on, and you can nearly hear the simper he gives just before he latches onto your ear, licking and nibbling away as you tremble and whimper around his fingers. The heat at your core throbs in tandem with your racing heartbeat, creating a melody of your arousal that you hoped only you could witness.

But you knew better than to doubt the senses of a demon.

“You’re doin’ good, doll,” he breathes into your ear, aggravating the sound of blood flushing through your ears and the thump of your heartbeat. “Such a good girl for me...”

The digits in your mouth get a little adventurous and explore your wet cavern a bit, but they’re quick to push down on your tongue again and you gag around them. Tears start to pool within your eyelids and your whimper is stuck in your throat.

The demon then unceremoniously pulls his fingers from your mouth to reach down at the hem of your sweater and yank it up over the swell of your chest, leaving your torso and bra-covered breasts bare. Dabi seems to drink up the sight of you as if it were a sweet wine he hadn’t indulged in for centuries. Both his hands then trail ghostly fingers - really, they felt like spiders - up your belly and to your sternum. You shiver and a mewl fights out of your throat unexpectedly, your back arching unintentionally toward him as you clutch onto his forearms. Dabi lets out a hot breath, just thereafter his hands roughly squeeze your breasts through your bra as he grinds his pelvis against yours, the outline of his hardened cock clear as day against you. You don’t even try to fight back the moan it elicits as your head droops back at the stimulation.

Why bother, right?

The inhuman entity before you takes the opportunity to use your open mouth, his own latching into yours and tongue exploring your mouth in a battle for dominance you have absolutely no hope to win as he makes a mushy mess of you. You accidentally lacerate your tongue on the sharp point of one of Dabi’s teeth and flinch a bit, the sting on your tongue nearly coaxing you to pull away while the taste of iron floods your mouths. That tase you could certainly live without only encourages him, as Dabi growls and grips the base of your neck to hold your head in place as he quite metaphorically devours your tongue with his own, before his teeth latch onto your lower lip and you squeak in surprise as he pulls away.

“Aw, what’s’a matter, little mouse?” Dabi taunts, left palm dropping to rub against your clothed sex.

“Ah, Dabi-!” You jolt at the sudden stimulation on your clit and breathe in hard. Even if there are a couple layers keeping his bare hand from touching you, if feels damn good to have someone else touch you like this. Ripples of warmth flood through you and you feel your body temperature rocketing. Your own breath feels as though it’s on fire as it leaves your heavily salivated mouth and bloody lips in rabid succession, alongside your increasingly rapid heartbeat. Your grip on his firm arms tightens and you resist the urge to grind against him as he continues his ministrations. “Fuck...” Your lips throbbed, yet you weren’t sure if it was from the tiny wounds he created or your blood pressure spiking.

“Hm?” The demon hums, inquisitive and high in pitch - yet maybe condescending. “‘Fuck,’ huh?” His grip on the back of your neck relaxes only slightly before his tongue pokes out of his mouth and drags along your lower lip, lapping away at the blood pooling there and drawing a slight whine from you. “What about it? You sayin’ you want me to fuck you, doll? Tell me.”

Blood rushes to your face like there was a race and your eyes wander from his bashfully, instead choosing to look at the horns cutting through his spiky black hair. He’s right, you do, you have to admit it. But admitting it out loud was embarrassing! With a gulp you elect to simply nod, but his brows furrow and he’s clearly unimpressed considering the animalistic growl that claws out of his throat.

“Hey, I’ve been locked away from you humans for so long, y’know,” he breathes, his voice dark and low. “I’m a bit behind on gestures. You have to tell me.” This time, you can tell by the almost playful tone of his voice that he’s really lying and just trying to make you admit it aloud. Dabi’s palm leaves you before moving up to the waistband of your jeans while his other hand snakes up your neck and latches onto a fistful of your hair. “C’mon, say it. Where’s all that spunk from earlier? You’re all bark and no bite, little one.”

“Y-yes, Dabi. I... I want you to fuck me.” You finally meet his eyes again, and the hunger in them from before hasn’t faded at all; it’s only deepened. What else has changed was the hunger and arousal in your own eyes.

That smirk appears again and Dabi leans into your ear. “You want me to fuck you,” he parrots, “do you? You want my demon cock to take your virginity and fill you up? You want me to fuck you against this counter until your voice gives out? You’re a slut after all, little one. Beg like one, then.”

Your thighs clench together and you gulp. This was... not how you fantasized your first time to carry out. “Demon cock” was not something you’d ever thought you would hear someone say.

But who cares? Not you.

“Yes, please. Please!” You tug at his jacket in an attempt to coax him toward you, your knuckles turning white from your grip. “Please, fuck me with your demon cock...” Your this time voice is less loud and demanding, albeit it’s more desperate and pleading. “Please.” Your voice breaks this time.

Nor was it something you thought you would ever say.

A groan rumbles from Dabi’s chest. “Good little human. Keep it up, yeah?”

You squeak as he roughly yanks your sweater over your head before working to unbutton your jeans, his lips and teeth savoring your neck all the while. Your head cranes back again, a mute gasp leaving you at the sensation of his searing tongue on your recently sweat-slicked neck as his fingers work to remove your bra before they move onto yanking your panties down. At least, you thought he yanked them down, but a quick glance to the floor revealed he ripped them off, rendering them unusable.

“I liked those!” you whine, still panting.

“Tough luck. I didn’t.” It’s not like you need to wear panties around him anyway. He’d burn every pair you owned to mere ashes if it meant getting you to waltz around your apartment with no panties. They just got in the way.

“Daabi! Why would you-

“Oh god!”

You jump and thrust against Dabi’s hand when his fingers run through the slick of your soaked cunt, your breathing ragged, while he gathers the slick abundant there and edges toward your clit. His tactic coaxes ripples of pleasure that lull a low moan out of you.

“Ha,” he scoffs in your ear, “no gods have anything to do with it, babydoll.”

Dabi’s fingers finally work their way to your clit and circle around it a few times before rubbing in a steady rhythm around it. You moan at the combination of the bliss he gives you and the pet name, and your legs instinctively open wider for him as you mewl.

“I’m really not sure you are a virgin, doll,” he starts with a chuckle, “You’re fuckin’ soaked, you know that? Like a slut begging for my dick.”

“D-Dabi!” You flinch at the sinful words he’s spitting at you, embarrassed.

The demon’s digits leave your clit and trail back through your folds, and the wet, lewd sounds that result almost surprise you more than the fact that you want to fuck a demon. You buck your hips in hopes of encouraging his fingers back to your clit, albeit his other hand distracts you with a flick to your nipple, before it rubs circles over the sensitive nub as the rest of his hand palms at your tit.

“Ah, feels so good,” you find yourself muttering.

In response his ear seems to twitch. “Speak up.” His lips are sucking and nipping at your neck, either ignoring or enjoying the layer of sweat built up on your skin as the heat coming from his body begins to overwhelm you. Not that you mind either way. He’s definitely leaving a mark here and there as he works around your neck. Not that you mind either way.

“Your fingers... ah, feel so good!” Your head cranes backward, your hands dropping to the counter against your ass for support as your legs begin to feel weak. The shockwaves of pleasure his hands send through your nerves leaves you feeling weak and mushy.

“Good. Now hold still.”

You give a confused look, eyebrows pointed upward before you feel the tip of his digit poke at your weeping hole, eliciting a loud gasp from you when his finger plunges into your pussy with no reserve. You hiss at the sudden intrusion, you walls stretching pleasurably yet painfully as he slowly moves his finger around, letting you adjust. His other hand merely plays with your breast.

Biting your lip, you lean forward and plant your sweaty, flushed forehead on his shoulder. “Hey, it kinda hurts,” you whine.

“Just relax, doll.” Dabi’s voice isn’t as crass as it was before, nor is it entirely soothing. You figure he just doesn’t have it in him to coddle you, being a demon and all that.

You whimper as Dabi ever so slowly thrusts his finger in and out, the mixture of pleasure and pain not at all what you’d expected. When his finger hits a spongy spot, you jolt and moan for him, and he takes the opportunity to take over your mouth again in a wet, hurried kiss with a groan. Dabi swallows any and all sounds that you make, and in the process you feel the hand on your tit move downward to your hip before it swings around and wraps under your thigh to lift your knee up to his hip level. The muscles of your legs tensing and the choked moan in your throat tell him the pain is starting to very slowly fade away. At the realization, he carefully dips another finger into you and you moan, higher in pitch, into his mouth before he pulls away to stare at the sight of his fingers fucking into you for only a short moment. Dabi is then quick to shove his tongue back into your salivating mouth.

The lithe digits within your wet walls pick up pace gradually, giving you time to adjust and not barreling into you. By now there is still a barely-there stretch, and all the pain has essentially faded as the assault on your nerves takes place and you near an orgasm. Your eyes lull shut and your head cranes back, your hips almost thrusting involuntarily on his fingers as his pace keeps increasing and pushing you over the edge.

“I’m- ah, I think I’m...”

Dabi hums as if requesting you repeat yourself or perhaps simply acknowledging your sputtering, but you’re too busy moaning louder and and thrusting into the palm of his hand, to do so, as the coil between your legs tightens. His fingers graze over that same spot as before and you cry out for him, for which his fingers increase their pace even more rapidly and slam into that spot over and over and over again as he groans at the lewd, wet squelching resulting.

“Shit! I’m gonna cum, Dabi, I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it. Cum for me, babydoll.” His voice is much more authoritative and huskier, and as per Dabi’s demand you cry out almost loud enough for your neighbors to hear as your orgasm slams into you like a tsunami of pleasure crashing into your nerves. Your soft, hot walls convulse around his fingers in your release as he uses them to fuck you through your first orgasm of the night, with your hips still thrusting toward him uncontrollably as you go through your high and begin to climb down, panting.

Your head feels light in the best way possible and your legs are weak, so you whine lowly as he pulls his fingers from your heat with a pleased sigh. The second your legs give out, he catches you by the ribs before grabbing your trembling hips and lifting you onto the counter, with you latching onto him and holding tight all the while, your forehead on his shoulder and arms around his neck while your legs wrap around his hips.

Dabi drags the tips of his fingers up and down your spine, sending a jolt of calming, electric waves up your spinal cord as he repeatedly kisses your hair and ear on the side accessible to him.

“Atta girl,” he mutters into your hair.

Do you... thank him? He’s giving you a compliment, after all, right? Do you nod? Do you hum? You have the energy to do all three, but what response does he expect of you?

“I didn’t... do anything,” you mutter quietly, chest rising and falling in quick succession.

“Technically. Doesn’t matter because you will, soon.” He leans into your ear like he’s so fond of doing, his lips grazing your earlobe. “We’re not done, doll.”

Your legs twitch around him unconsciously, eliciting a deep, amused chuckle from the demon.

You see pointed pearly whites bear at you before he lifts you off the countertop and plops you down in front of him. Dabi’s hand squeezes your ass cheek, said hand then spinning you around to put your back to his chest. Searing breath on the back of your ear makes it twitch. “You’re wet and all, doll, but I’m not sure you’re wet enough,” he taunts, his hands splaying out on your abdomen and gently roaming around, fingers spread wide as they adore your body.

“For what?” Dabi’s chest against your back prevents you from turning around and giving him a confused look.

“My cock. What else?” he jabs.

Your curt reply is totally cut off and forgotten when you feel a wet tongue singe the side of your neck toward the back, and you gasp shakily.

“What to do, what to do...?” you hear Dabi whisper into your now-pebbled skin, his hands ghosting down toward your thighs.

“Oh.”

Remaining silent yourself, you could feel the damn lightbulb light up in the bastard’s horned head, but you didn’t know what exactly would entail.

Before you can ask what the hell he was on about, his fingers drove between your glistening folds and prod around, as if measuring the lewd slick settling there. They quickly pull away after a quick hum from Dabi.

“Be a good little human and bend over, yeah?”

Without a word or thought against it you comply, bending over your countertop and leaning on your elbows a little. You gulp at the thought of your leaking cunt bearing for Dabi. You weren’t sure what he could see from this position, but you were a little embarrassed, nonetheless. With a gulp you shift your weight back and forth on your feet nervously.

Hands rub and palm at your ass cheeks as thumbs rub deeply into your flesh in a symphony of soothing touch. You sigh blissfully and spread your legs for the demon without realizing, but it’s over all too quickly when he instead moves your legs back together. You crane your neck to look at him. “Wha...?”

Wasn’t he going to fuck you from behind?

Suddenly the weeping tip of his cock slips between your thighs, gliding against your dripping cunt and through your folds. There’s no piercing despite his many others, though perhaps that was why he asked you to take him to a parlor not long ago.

Dabi’s cock manages to grace your clit and your body unwillingly jolts a little, still having been sensitive from your previous orgasm. A soft gasp leaves your swollen lips and you hear Dabi growl behind you while he pulls back from your ass end only to jut forward again. Legs beginning to tire out, you unconsciously spread them, only for his hands to push them together roughly.

“Don’t fuckin’ spread ‘em,” he hissed, hips holding still. The fingers on your thighs push deep with force sure to leave bruises while you hiss quietly at the stinging pain they bring to your nerves. But that sensation is quick to fade into something warm and euphoric yet electric and sensitive, causing your head to spin even though he’s not fucking your desperate pussy. He pistons his hips into your ass, and you mewl.

“That’s your last warning, fuck!” he grunts.

You nod vigorously, content with letting him fuck your thighs so long as he keeps grazing your puffy clit like this. His pace quickens and soon enough you hear loud skin slapping against skin, his hips jutting into your ass and balls pattering against the crevice between the soft flesh of your thighs. The quick pace and silkiness of his cock against your clit is euphoric, leaving you to wonder if it would be better than this if he were inside of you. Are you drooling? Your head droops lazily as you revel in pleasure.

The wetness and heat between your legs has increased several-fold, but it’s apparently not enough for Dabi. Your poor body rocks against the counter and your eyes are clenched shut, head fixated on the sensation of his cock grinding against your cunt and between your soft, drenched thighs. You weren’t sure if it was the position or your nerves going haywire, but your legs ached with a dreadful burn.

“D-Daaabi,” you whine pitifully, “my legs... aah, hurt...!”

A hand jumps to your navel and brings you back toward him to allow room for his fingers slithering to your cunt. Before they graze over your clit, they stop. “Cum for me, then,” you hear him command, voice deep and breathy and sending a chill up your spine. “Maybe when you’re done, I’ll take you to the bed and fuck you into the mattress. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya, doll?”

“Yes, b-but,” you suck in a breath when his hand envelops your tit, “‘maybe?’” You parrot the word desperately, your head going blank as you near orgasm.

“Mhm.” You can hear the smirk in it, and the sound of the hum rumbling in his chest is oddly euphoric for you to hear.

You hated having him behind you like this. All you wanted in the moment was to latch onto him and relish in his heat no matter how intense it would be for a mortal like you. You wanted to touch him, to be able to see him, and he was depriving you of it all - very likely on purpose.

Your moans and squeals get higher in pitch and Dabi evidently picks up on your cues, thrusting against your cunt faster and faster until your entire body tenses.

You cry out his name ever so quietly, yet before you can climax he pulls away and leaves you panting and weeping, a whine escaping your throat. “But you told me...!”

“Changed my mind.”

“You’re a jerk!” you half-gripe and half-whine, standing up to glare at him. “I was so... so close, you know! You better make it up to me!” You huff and puff from the intensity of almost cumming.

“You’re awful feisty when I’m not touching you,” he remarks cockily.

You’re going to regret saying what you said. At least, that’s what the look in his eyes tells you when he spins you around. It’s dark and already you shrink in front of him. The next thing you know, Dabi’s pushing you against the counter and mumbling something into you ear, that something being an incantation that sends a trickle of electricity though every nerve of your body. Suddenly you’re cumming hard as heavy waves of pleasure wrack your cunt clenching around nothing rapidly as whatever the demon used on you pushes you through your orgasm, your toes curling and lips shrieking, head falling back so fast it almost slammed into the cabinet if he hadn’t caught it. You don’t register that you had wrapped your arms around his waist until his hands grasp them as if holding you there.

“How’s that for makin’ it up to you, eh?”

With his voice pulling a moan out of you, your poor brain goes foggy and full and it spins within your skull as you pant away, your body feeling heavy. Dabi grabs hold of you and lifts you onto the countertop when it seems like your legs are going to give out. “Hey,” he mutters into your sweaty neck, “don’t tire out on me. I wanna fill that pussy up with my cum ‘til it’s dripping out.”

You feel heat rush from your heaving chest up your neck to your cheeks. “Stop... that! You pervert.”

Dabi chuckles at you. You weren’t prudish, you were inexperienced. “What? Stop what, hm?”

“Talking like... that.”

He only hums, though, and he’s not to comply with your request. “Ya know, if you weren’t a virgin, I’d take your ass, too. Or put you on your knees and shove my cock down your throat until you’re chokin’ on it. Fuck, you’d sound like an angel.” Dabi chuckles at his ironic comparison, seemingly proud of himself for it.

You shrink in front of him and shiver, the room feeling so cold. You glance at your bedroom door and he notices promptly.

“I’ll carry you, for a price.”

Your eyes flicker back to him and the simper he flashes you would’ve had you weak in the knees had you been standing.

“Like what, my soul?” It’s a slightly genuine, slightly snarky question.

“Your mouth.” Dabi waves a hand at your widened eyes. “Not tonight. Maybe next time. You won’t know up from down and I don’t feel like playing teacher more than I already am.”

The demon doesn’t wait for your snarky remark before he picks you up and lugs you to your bed. You let out a noise when he literally drops you onto the mattress, your form bouncing atop it before he pins you to the bed roughly, so quickly you get dizzy. He dips his hips between your legs and spreads them wide while his mouth delves into the crook of your sweat-coated neck to let him begin suckling and leaving stinging marks with sweet, little kisses peppered in between.

It seems he’s suddenly gone soft on you, but it won’t last, even if you don’t know it.

Your back arches against him, ready to finally feel his torrid body against yours so that you can relish in his warmth despite the fact that your body was soaked in sweat; you wanted so much more, you needed it. Your next moan is dealt without a care who can hear, and thereafter with you wrap your arms around his neck tightly. Dabi grabs your hips and squeezes the plump flesh before his hands roam down your thighs to your knees as he hikes your legs around his hips, with you far too eager not to comply.

“Dabi,” you breathe, and he hums with one of his hands still on your hip as the other supports his weight by your shoulder. “Kiss me. Please.” Your voice is desperate and needy, and you’re starting to think this is more than lust pushing you on.

Had he used another demonic spell on you?

When Dabi complies, his hips grind against you to allow his hardened cock to nudge the folds of your glistening pussy.

This time around, with his tongue prodding in your mouth at a slower, more passionate pace, you catch on and realize he has a tongue piercing. Your walls clench at the thought of what it would feel like licking stripes up and down your soaked cunt, wondering whether it would be cool to the touch or searing hot due to his body temperature.

Searing hot would be the answer, though you don’t know that as of now.

The demon grinds against you as he devours your mouth with his own, his weeping cock sliding through your your wet folds. On the other hand you’re careful not to cut your tongue on his teeth again, albeit he wouldn’t complain if you did; if anything he’d encourage it. Your hands splay on his hot back, and you wonder that if leaving them on his searing skin for too long will burn you. If it gave you the opportunity to roam your fingers over his muscles and caress the staples, goddamn would it be worth the burns. With a sigh into his mouth your hands move from his back to grab onto those horns you’d thought about, your grip gentle yet exploring as you try to focus on feeling the rough texture of them.

Dabi pulls away from you to pepper open-mouthed kisses among your jawline, growling all the while. “What’re you doing?” he brusquely asks between the wet gestures, and you croon. His voice was so rough and gravelly while the gestures were soft and... sweet. You almost dare to say it was heavenly.

“Just feelin’ ‘em, babydoll.”

You throw his pet name back at him purposefully, and the mockery elicits a dark chuckle from him. Ever so slowly, you were beginning to learn how to be more brazen. You were getting comfortable with him on this intimate level. You’d already been comfortable in some way with him living forcibly in your apartment for over a month, but not on this level, not like this.

The stapled hand on your leg disappears before it reappears in your hair and gives a pull - not a yank - to tilt your head back and further expose your neck. You expect him to ravage it with his mouth like earlier, but he stopped to admire his apparent handiwork. You can’t see the marks he’s left, albeit he’s apparently satisfied as he smirks.

“What’re you doing?” you mimic him playfully.

“Thinkin’ about how I want you, of course.” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

In response, you huff at him.

“Let’s see,” he begins, moving closer to you, his breath fanning the lower half of your face as his eyes bore into your soul, “chest up against the wall, or on your hands and knees... hell, maybe just your knees...” He moves down so that his breath reaches just under your jaw, his eyes still staring intensely up at you while his hand slithers to your tit, rolling the hardened bud under his finger and you mewl. “...could always put you in a mating press and fuck you like a bitch in heat... I might even let you get on top, if you’re a good girl. Decisions, decisions, eh?”

“What,” you huff, “you mean, with all that whoring and harassing you did, you never thought this through?” You mirror his smirk with your own quirked brow while you rub the horns on his head, thoroughly enjoying their soft yet rippled texture.

“Oho, that’s the problem, doll. I’ve thought about it too much.” Dabi’s teeth put on a show for you to see from his widening smirk. Next thing you know, his fingers are pinching and tugging your nipple roughly for the first time and you keen under him from the shock before his wet mouth matches onto your other tit, tongue lulling over the bud. You mewl and flick your head back, chest heaving in your panting as you feel him suction onto your plump skin and suck away with a sopping, hot mouth, his low sigh into your skin blissful.

Your hands drop to his shoulders as a result of the distraction his mouth brings. Demonic saliva coats your tit and glistens in what little silvery moonlight filters through your blinds, all while you feel the pull of your leg over his right shoulder and prodding at your weeping heat with the tip of his cock.

“Ya know what?” he murmurs into your skin, “I wanna see these lovely tits of yours bounce.” With his other hand he guides the tip in and gives a moan at how warm and slick the entrance of your cunt is around him. And tight as hell, too. Of all the summons he could’ve answered, he answered the one that, unbeknownst to Dabi, lead to you, just on a whim. And fuck, if it wasn’t worth it.

You whine and writhe underneath him, needy as can be, as your entrance clenches around the head of his cock.

“Use your words, babydoll.”

You groan at him. “Just please hurry up and fuck me!”

“Your wish is my command...” Dabi’s voice is full of tease and mockery, which makes you want to bite his tongue.

Without any warning he sheaths his cock all the way into you as a groan escapes his throat, and you jolt at the sensation of suddenly being so goddamned full, your lustful gasp resonating off the walls of your bedroom. That one hard pump of his hips sends a wave up pleasure through your nervous system and the stretch of your tight walls leaves you wanting more. He’s much longer and thicker than his fingers, and you can’t help your cunt clenching around him like it does. The subconscious movement has Dabi groaning and panting out as you clench on his cock, and he still can’t help but relish in how fucking worth the wait you are.

That stretch of your cunt is back again, sweet and sinful as before. His cock brushes against all the right places, filling you up perfectly and having you drool for more.

Dabi holds still at least, though you can tell it won’t be for long.

“So goddamned tight,” he spits through his teeth against your neck, fighting the demanding of every cell in his body to fuck you like a rabid animal. Dabi’s hot breath fans over your neck, his teeth clenching as a result of your tightness around him.

His hips slowly start pushing and pulling to gently thrust his throbbing cock in and out of you, slowly letting you adjust before he can pick a normal pace.

...is what you thought he would do.

But nay, he begins with slow and agonizingly yet blissfully hard thrusts into your wet core, his grunts being drowned out by your wails and mewls as he slams into your sopping cunt. The lewd sounds of wet skin slapping slowly against skin and hot squelching mixes into it all, creating a melody of sin only you and Dabi share, that only the two of you can hear.

You were definitely going to hell, by now. But hey, good dick seemed worth the eternal damnation. Right?

With one particularly hard thrust, Dabi bites into the crook between your neck and shoulder, unexpectedly not breaking the skin, eliciting a cry from your parched throat and your eyes shut tight. The teeth latching onto your skin feel less sharp and more human, as he’s morphed them not to tear into your flesh and draw blood. He’d never hear the end of it for getting blood on your sheets, he knew that. Besides, if he wasn’t careful it would kill you.

He doesn’t want that happening again. Ugh. That was a godsforsaken mess - literally.

With every pounce of his hips, your tits bounce on your chest like he set out to do and he was sure to take in the sight of it all very well, having waited over a month for it. The smarting pang you felt earlier when his fingers fucked you is completely gone by now, leaving you to writhe and thrust your own hips from the overwhelming fucking of your senses.

“Dabi, Dabi!” you sob, your thoughts blending together until nothing but the demon inside of you remains in your consciousness. Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders, drawing a thick, black liquid in the deep crescents, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Words, babydoll,” he breathes out, emphasizing the first word with a thrust. “C’mon, you know better.” He groans above you.

A yelp and another, higher in pitch slap of skin resonates within the room amidst the wet, sloppy ones and his grunts, but it doesn’t register that he’s slapped the underside of the thigh perched on his shoulder until you feel the pulsating sting that scatters through your leg. The yelp was apparently yours.

“Faster!” Your voice is devoured by a whiny tone and squeals that fight out of you, but it’s drowned out by the rhythm of his hips against yours.

Another slap hits your senses, and you cry out, tears flooding your eyelids. All you need is a little push.

“So fuckin’ demanding... Where are your manners, little mouse?” His lips are on your ear again, almost as if threateningly. “I’d be a little more... ngh... polite if I were you.” The covers bunch and roll under your body when it’s slid back against them from the hardest thrust he’s graced you with yet, the process bringing a shriek out of you and shock as a result of his hitting that special spot after angling his hips just right and causing your poor head to spin. With Dabi then yanking you back to where you were with the hand on your thigh above the reddening cloud of flesh, you croon underneath him as he stops fucking your dripping wet heat altogether. You’re left to stare into his fiery blue eyes directly while hot breaths flood out of you in rapid succession. His nose almost touched yours, and the look in his eyes tells you he’s dead serious.

“Hate to break it to ya, but you’re at my mercy, doll. If I don’t want you to cum, you won’t.”

“Nonono, I’m sorry! Please! Please! I’m sorry!”

A cross between a hum and growl leaves his throat, and you shrink underneath him.

“‘Please,’ what?”

“Go faster, please!”

Dabi’s teeth are on your neck again when he picks up his thrusting into you, increasing in speed and fucking your sopping pussy like you had requested. With his hands on your hips, the demon mutters praises and moans into your neck and you sputter incoherent gibberish when you’re not gasping for air and squealing and bawling out from his almost inhuman, blissful pace. The leg wrapped around his waist clenches as hard as you’re physically able as he slams into you, and while your senses are being ravaged and brutalized, you hear faintly those wet squelching noises and the sounds of metal and wood creaking. You weren’t sure if the thrumming in your eardrums was your heartbeat or your headboard hitting the wall, but the thought of the latter rolled your eyes into the back of your head. Dabi angles his hips just right and smacks his cock into that oh-so-special spot within your soft cunt, and the jolt of pleasure and utter bliss that results brings you back to reality momentarily - yet still somehow throwing you out of your mind.

“Right there! Dabi! Oh, fuck!” You sob with a slur, your hands grasping and clawing at his back desperately. Incoherent garbling follows thereafter, and Dabi doesn’t even try to decipher it even if it is silk against his ears.

The fingers gripping onto your hips are so tightly embedded into your skin, Dabi’s sure they will leave round little bruises in their wake and he relishes in the idea, but the sting they bring you feels so damned good, you welcome it, too. The tension that builds within your cunt keeps building and building, your hot walls clenching around Dabi as you near carnal release. You’re close, so fucking close to the height of true bliss, your moans getting higher and higher in pitch as your back lifts off the mattress without you willing it. You feel that familiar tingle before-

It stops.

You sob at the utter emptiness and lack of release, your head spinning.

The ancient bastard denied you of your orgasm.

Chest heaving up and down in your panting, your wordless whine and protest at the emptiness you can feel is seemingly ignored by Dabi. The lack of warmth at your pulsating core is almost... cold. So cold.

“Wh-why...?” you whine.

The demon lets out a breathy groan. You can feel him dip his lips to your collarbone and smirk. “Just ‘cause.”

Quickly the demon sits back on his haunches and your arms droop off his shoulders. Dabi blinks at you with his hand holding your ankle to his shoulder, all the while staring you down with an intensity that has you feeling small, like an ant before an elephant. You’re so vulnerable and naked under his unwavering gaze, it’s nearly frightening. There’s something in his eyes you haven’t seen before. It’s soft but it’s predatory. He drinks in the sight of you leisurely.

You know damn good and well blood is rushing to your face, your hot breaths leaving you in weak puffs.

“Aren’t you precious?” you hear him remark with a toothy smirk. “Just for me. Right?”

You nod.

Demonically slitted eyes narrow at you darkly. “Say it, then,” he demands.

“Just...” you pant, “for you.”

Dabi’s hand pulls your ankle off him and puts your foot flat against the bedding next to his knee as he looks down at you. The moonlight striking the vibrant color of Dabi’s eyes is breathtaking, if your breath could be knocked out of your lungs further. It almost forced you to liken the sight with tinted ice, with icy waters off Iceland or perhaps glacier-dwelling seas of the Antarctic. And yet, you knew better.

The sight before Dabi was more than he’d expected, albeit just as sinful. Seeing you splashed out in bed, sweating and panting and dripping in your own essence just for him drove him wild. You were so adamant against fucking him, about retaining your innocence and saving it for the “right” person, in the beginning. And yet now, you let him do as he pleases and he didn’t doubt it would be the first time. He knew better.

“Get on your hands and knees, love.”

That was a first. “Love?” You like it more than the several others. It was smoky and gravelly and breathy all once.

Without your knowing your eyes soften and you grin the tiniest grin at the demon, knowing he won’t return the favor and be as gentle and sweet with you. He’s quick to quirk a brow at you, but you turn on your side to maneuver your body around and comply with Dabi’s command. Your breath has evened out by now, as you prop yourself on your elbows with your ass pointing out to Dabi, weeping cunt ready to be filled. It was embarrassing being on display like this again. You glance back at him with curious eyes, only to be met with silence and what felt like a dark presence. He’d gone cold on you.

You feel a hot hand on the nape of your neck and swear on whatever god you used to believe that your skin sizzled for a bit, while another lands on your left hip as his cock presses up against your folds and slithers through between your legs a couple times, gathering the slick of your essence - as if it needed to! - before he delves into your pussy once again. You croon in front of him, and the moan that comes out of Dabi has you clenching around his cock for the countless time. He mutters something untranslatable to you and pushes down on your nape, easing you face-first into the mattress. Your bedding was so soft and warm from your own body heat. Maybe it was leakage from the demon’s body temperature, you weren’t sure. Maybe it was a mix of both, intermingling like perfectly-cut pieces of a puzzle.

With a sharp moan, Dabi bottoms out in you, your mewls being swallowed by the bedding pressing against your cheek. You sigh into plush warmth, but the soft and gooeyness you feel is quickly torn away by a harsh snap of Dabi’s hips. Your gasp is cut through by a squeak from your throat, only urging him further as you already feel that coil tightening and readying to snap. You feel him shift a little against you, and you try to glance at him as much as you can before he begins thrusting into you again. That hard but slow pace makes its appearance for a short while, and hot damn is it heavenly. You moan and whine completely unabashedly. The walls of your apartment were thin and cheap, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

It was just an effect he had on you.

So what if your neighbors knew your were getting railed by a demonic being from ages past?

He certainly wanted them to know.

Dabi’s pace picks up again and you already feel the ripples of pleasure soaring through your body from your clenching cunt, your grip on the fabric underneath you tightening as you fight back the urge to bite into it. Even the lewd slaps of his hips against your ass are louder and quicker, and fuck aren’t they wetter. Dabi himself seems proud of this.

Your breathing quickens and your lungs almost burn like the hand on the back of your neck, your keening and sobbing getting higher in pitch and filled with rushed air. His thrusts only seem to get deeper and harder, if it were possible, and your eyes close shut tightly as your body trembles. Dabi adjusts his hips and continuously hits that oh-so-sweet spot that makes your head cloud over totally, his head falling back at the way your pussy hugs him tight.

“Dabi!” you sob. “Don’t stop, please!” Your wording is heavily slurred and slightly hushed from the impact of his fucking your nerves and your cheek being pushed into the bed, but you manage, nonetheless. You can’t fight back the drool that droops out the corner of your mouth.

The demon chuckles. Dabi could hear you say his name like that for a thousand years straight and it wouldn’t be enough. “S’pose you’ve been a good girl, babydoll. Go on, I’ll let you cum.”

The hand on your neck moves to your shoulder and soon enough, your chest and face are removed from the sheets, albeit you’re still on all fours as he fucks into you. Thereafter you feel the piping heat of his chest against your back, a crude reminder of the seven layers of arson Dabi’s capable. His hand holds you still while he continues to wrack your body with thrusts into your wet heat. You feel his fingers rub and circle your clit after a torrid hand snakes around your ribs and down your navel, and the pace of Dabi’s fingers is almost in beautiful tandem with his fucking as he hits that special spot over and over and over again. You can feel your essence flowing down the insides of your thighs like you thought wasn’t even possible, pussy dripping onto your bedding.

Ah, fuck.

With a lustful shriek, your spongy walls convulse around his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm, your vision going white as your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body rocks back and forth, legs twitching and torso shuddering. It takes almost everything Dabi has not to cum then and there, his hiss and loud growl being evidence of that. You just feel so good, why wouldn’t he want to cum now? But no, that would be a treat for you later.

Your clutch on the bedding underneath is as tight as you’re fully capable, and your knuckles turn white while you revel in your own personal bliss, courtesy of whatever the hell Dabi is. The intensity of it all has your head spinning and body pulsating. Poor body beginning to come down from the fierce high, you wondered if Dabi would stop and let you bliss out - but nay; he continues to fuck you like an animal and abuse your clit while you cry it all out. You were drenched in sweat, your cheeks flooded with tears you didn’t know were there until now.

“Too much, too much,” you squeak quietly, so quiet you’re not even sure he could hear you. But maybe it was incoherent. Maybe you were babbling and drooling like a fucked out hole at this point. Was it getting overwhelming? Yes. Did it feel ungodly good? Fuck yes.

“You’re so fuckin’... wet, though,” he pants, before slowing down slightly. “I think you’re playing innocent. You like this, ah, don’t you?” Dabi groans as you continue to flutter, sensitively, around him. “You want me to fuck you stupid, to fuck you until you can’t take it anymore, right?”

Dabi chuckles at your lack of response and continues to ram into your soaking heat with your cries and squeaks only urging him further. An attempt to glance at Dabi is mostly thwarted by the pace he’s taken on, or maybe it’s because everything’s spinning - or is it the tears flooding from your eyelids - you manage to meet his icy, slitted eyes once, which prompts him to poke kisses at your nape and behind your ear. You feel that familiar warmth in your entire pelvis, you cunt clenching down on his cock as the waves of pleasure intensify.

“Dabi, I- nnn, it’s too mu-much,” you whine. “Please.”

“Nah, you’re okay, babydoll,” he drawls cockily, voice gravelly and breathy enough to make you cum on command. “I think you’ve got a few more for me, don’t you? C’mon.” He makes a point to hit your g-spot harder than before after he’s done talking, and goddamn does it take the air out of your lungs. You choke on your own spit when you feel that piping hot hand patted against your asscheek repeatedly.

Your shriek and wet slopping fills the room as you cum yet again, albeit this time the pressure on your nerves feels different - smoother, warmer - and the tingle in your belly is intense as your scream feels like it claws at your throat until it bleeds. Your thighs are drenched in your juices, cunt twitching and clenching in the aftermath of your mind-splitting pleasure. You mumble and whimper as he finally slows down and gives you a sliver of mercy, both of his hands now holding you up by your hips when your torso slowly droops down like it was before. Dabi chuckles behind you quietly as he comes to a halt.

“You good, doll?”

He’s definitely not sincere.

Your eyes squeeze shut and you heave and pant, the fabric in your fingers wrinkling in their grasp.

“Oi, you can’t quit on me now,” he demands. “I haven’t cum yet and I gotta make you squirt again.”

Trying to get a whole, solid word out was a struggle as a result of your heavy breathing and the overstimulation. Your head was fuzzy and the room was spinning like a damn typhoon, and for a split moment you thought you’d fallen unconscious. What spills out is garbled nonsense.

The demon hums that inquisitive hum again, urging you to speak.

You lift your cheek off the bed slightly, as you’re able. “Will...”

You’re not sure why, but the thought of Dabi skipping off after taking your virginity so unceremoniously rang into your thoughts, giving you a sense of loneliness and anxiety. Why, though? Why now?

“Huh?” He leans in so close, his horn bobs off the side of your head when he arches over you to put an ear to your lips. “Try again, love. Go on.” He sounds quite intrigued, probably the most you’ve heard him.

“Will you... hah, leave... me?”

The grin against your neck is dark.

“Whaddya mean, little mouse?”

His voice was downright excited. You were worth the wait. How long had it been since he’d had a human so obedient, so innocent yet so easily corrupted? You were his, now - whether you liked it or not was irrelevant. But he knew you would. Dabi had grown on you far more than you’d ever admit, he knew that for a fact. You were clearly enjoying yourself now, anyway. And it didn’t take magic to do all of this, save for one here and there to coax you to enjoy yourself and to bring out subconscious feelings. Like right now. You felt these things, he just amplified them to an unbearable extent. Whoops. You poor thing.

“Don’t go.”

Eyes half-lidded and droopy, you turn your head to look back at the demon, only to be met with sharp teeth shown off in a naughty grin. You blink once and you could’ve sworn you saw an image of a black, smoky aura surrounding him.

“If you can handle me, dear.”

You nod against the bed slowly before trying to push your ass against him with what little stability you have. Even if his cock was still buried in you, without any movement you felt empty and... alone.

“I thought it was too much?” he quips, hand rubbing at your reddened ass cheek in a way you have to describe as soothing. It felt so silky and mellow. Yet you knew he was far from that. “Well? I thought you were bitchin’ out on me like the virgin you are.”

“In... insi... inside,” you sputter shyly, mental clarity not quite returning, albeit you manage enough to think of that at least. You want him to cum inside, to know what it feels like to be stuffed full of his cum, to feel his cock twitching inside after his release. “C-um.”

You never would’ve thought about that before you met him. Why would you feel this way?

“Aw, what is it?” The hum that results from his scarred throat is dark. “You want me to cum inside right now? I’m not sure you’ve earned that yet.” His voice is bastardly and maybe even a little teasing, and he sighs almost happily at your squirming. “Asking me to cum inside like that the first time you get fucked - such a whore. Have I fucked you stupid already, doll? Shame, I thought you’d hold out better than that.” Dabi clicked his tongue and shook his head, though you can’t see. “Broken so early. Guess there’s no point in me stickin’ around after all, huh?”

A noise sounds from the back of your throat in protest and nearly unbeknownst to you, drool slithers out the corner of your mouth. Dabi seems to ignore your noises as his hands adjust your hips, giving you enough friction to elicit a whine from your lips. You can’t register this at the moment, but Dabi was a victim to his own whims and could be a mix of soft and downright mean in the bedroom, and there’s no telling which will arise. Sometimes he’ll want skin against skin, tongue lashing against yours, fiery pleasure; sometimes he wants to insult you and lash his hand across your ass cheek, leaving bruises or drawing blood wherever he can.

“I was gonna make you convince me,” he breathes, slowly thrusting. “But considering you’re still conscious, I think that’s enough.” Dabi chuckles behind you. Well, you were only conscious as per his meddling. He was the one keeping your consciousness pulled to the surface, preventing you from letting go of reality and passing out. “You’re most welcome to cry and beg, though, babydoll.”

Hell, that list was half-checked off. Tears stained your cheeks and blurred your vision already, and the more he fucked into you, the more they fluttered out. Your lungs burned at this point, a searing heat cutting through your chest. Anything you try to say comes out incoherently, a sputtered and garbled mess, when it’s not a pitiful sob.

You push your hips back against him in an attempt to fuck yourself on his cock while Dabi fucks your puffy cunt, drawing a condescending chuckle from him. The jolt of overstimulation beckoned you to crawl away and relieve yourself of him, but the need to have him thrusting and cumming inside you overcame it. His release and what it would feel like to have his cum mixing with your juices and dripping out of you was all you could think about, as if entranced in a spell that bound your consciousness to that one thing. The rest of your thoughts were jumbled and incoherent even to you, the drool trickling out your mouth and the rolling of your eyes into the back of your head representative of that.

As Dabi watched your pussy envelop him, he couldn’t help but envision his name carved into your asscheeks with a sharpened claw of his. Ah, the squeals and squeaks that crawl out of you would be divine in the most sinful way possible, and the threads of blood that would trickle down your skin would taste head-spinningly beautiful. Maybe next time. Dabi’s jaw clenched at the throb of his cock within your sputtering, velvety walls, the tightness in his abdomen building. Just one more...

“Fuck, little one...!”

As the demon drags sharp claws up your thigh and asscheek, it leaves red ribbons in its wake and the squeeze of your cunt and pitiful squeal tells him well that you’re enjoying it far more than you ever thought you would.

“Such a good fucking human... good fuckin’ hole,” he grunts, voice strained. His hand plants on the middle of your back and pushes hard, bowing your poor back as his other hand keeps your hips up, his cock ramming into you at a faster pace. Dabi lets out a loud groan when he sees the blissed out, tear-stained, drool-covered face of yours before his thrusting loses rhythm and he suddenly feels your pussy flutter around him hard in orgasm again, soaking him in your slick again. Finally he allows himself to find the release you’d internally begged for, fucking into you at a less than rhythmic pace as his own mind begins to become overwhelmed with pleasure.

“Ah, shit. Fuck, fuck, motherfucking-!”

Dabi soon finds his teeth embedded into your flesh and gripping it hard enough to leave a bruise or even cut into the skin as his hips move entirely on their own against you. With a strained moan he cums, thick, warm ropes of cum painting your fluttering, sensitive, and overstimulated walls as you literally cry and sob underneath him, his hips still involuntarily thrusting into you as your cunt milks him for all he’s worth.

“Fucking hell,” he bites out, body relaxing against yours as he comes down from the high, yet he doesn’t pull out. “I missed this.” His voice is breathy and littered with pants against your neck. Dabi leaves a few wet kisses to it before leaning back and slowly pulling out with a groan, leaving you empty and dripping before him. He watches as his cum begins to trickle out but is quick to gather it with his fingers and push it roughly back into your pulsating cunt.

“Atta fuckin’ girl.”

Your poor head spins and you don’t know up from down, so Dabi ushers you to lay down and before he knows it, you’re passed out asleep. Eh, he’ll consider aftercare next time maybe. With a yawn that’s more out of sudden boredom than it is exhaustion, Dabi lays down next to you and props his head up with his hand, leaning against his elbow as he watches you sleep peacefully, a complete contrast to a few mere minutes ago. With a smirk he wipes the tears off your cheeks. Those cheeks...

“I oughta answer sacrifices more often.”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #dabi x reader smut #dabi #mha #bnha #blue hour.#*throws candy* happy halloween have some mediocre smut!

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mediocre--writing · 4 years ago

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i know we always talk about billy easily submitting to his dad but imagine this:

neil is charismatic, that must be where billy gets it, because he has the whole town fooled. nobody sees the demonic beast hiding under human flesh.

neil knows all the neighbors by name. he treats the custodian as he treats his boss. he offers help to old ladies with groceries and helps them cross the street.

people wonder why billy seems to glare at his father and disobey him so often; for how good a man neil is, it’s astonishing how resentful billy is of him.

billy will snark back in public, blatantly roll his eyes, flip him the bird when he’s not looking (and leave it up long enough for him to see when he turns).

the party thinks he’s an asshole who hates everyone. steve can’t believe the amount of disrespect he gives his dad. nancy and jonathan are floored at the vulgar words he speaks about him with, how he talks about him to his face.

max is more sympathetic than ever. how neil is so well known and widely liked by the people of hawkins and how nobody would ever even begin to believe a word of the truth billy could tell.

it’s almost like there’s nothing to be done. because as awful as neil is, there’s some days when billy won’t shut his mouth. and it gets him into trouble.

he’s spiteful and vindictive and vulgar when they shout at each other, but once billy is shoved against the wall, it’s a 50/50 chance he’s gonna fight back.

some days he can’t be bothered. is sick and tired of his own life, he lets the one ‘warning’ hit be enough.

other days he shoves back. he always gets shoved harder after. he’ll rile neil up to the point of maximum damage, but it’s so easy to get him angry it’s almost funny.

billy wishes, every time he gets hit, that some random townsperson would just walk into their living room. or kitchen. or billy’s bedroom. or, on one occasion, their back yard.

nobody sees billy hargrove: victim of abuse. they see billy hargrove: hates the nicest man in town. it’s ridiculous and billy can’t stand it.

he’s almost 18 now. he’s sick of hawkins and ready to leave and go anywhere but where his dad is.

but he wants one last joyride on the anger express. maybe ruin a reputation in the process.

so he acts out one day, while they’re walking down the sidewalk from a store max and susan had wanted to look at before grocery shopping.

billy knows how to get under neil’s skin. it’s one of the things he prides himself in knowing well.

he makes an off handed comment about how shitty it is that he’s being dragged into family outings. “we aren’t even a family,” he’ll say.

neil will give him a look. one that says he’s gonna get it when they’re home. where nobody can see who neil really is.

then billy brings up his mother, how she was so much better than neil could ever be. “she made the right decision to leave you,” he snickers as he watches neil’s fists clench.

a myriad of comments follow. ones about how neil is gonna lose another wife. ones about how he still can’t get billy into place. ones about how awful it must be to enjoy hating children.

there’s one more thing that he’s depending on to be the final fuse to make neil explode, right in broad daylight. bringing in the one thing neil hates most in life: “it’s too bad you’ve got a faggot for a son, huh?” billy says, just loud enough to be almost heard by the old lady walking a few steps in front of them.

when neil’s mustache curls into a pained grimace, billy knows he’s won. knows that he’s got the upper hand of the situation, even if he’s gonna get hit for it.

knows, right when the name “william,” comes out, threatening as ever, that he has won.

so he adds fuel to the fire. “do you think red or pink lipstick would look better with my complexion?” just to see the extra line that forms above neil’s eyebrows.

neil stops walking. turns to look at billy. they’re still in the middle of the sidewalk, max and susan a few feet away, stopped as well. max looks like she wants the floor to swallow her whole.

“well, you know, when i become a drag queen, i’ll have to look good, right?” billy asks his father, and it’s like he’s lost control over his own mouth. “so what’ll it be, dad? pink or red?”

and maybe the alarm bells and flashing red lights in billy’s head should have stopped him from talking. maybe he should have let this grocery trip be about getting weekly groceries.

but something about how he could see his fathers breathing speed up and his face turn so pink it’s almost purple, it’s fun.

with the added addition of seeing some of max’s little friends leaving the theatre at that moment.

right when the boys notice max, neil lunges for billy.

the old lady that had been steps in front of them has turned to see what the thud behind her was, only to see neil holding billy by his collar and his neck, shoved against a brick wall, billy’s toes barely touching the floor.

for being in such a compromising position, billy shouldn’t look as smug as he does when the old lady drops her purse with a gasp or when he sees max’s friends’ faces contort with fear. or when he sees harrington exit the movie theatre as well.

it happens quickly, the fight. billy thinks his brain went black and acted on instinct, he doesn’t remember a thing.

but the bystanders see it all. how close neil leans in to sneer something in billy’s face. how billy laughs, then lifts a knee to hit neil where it hurts.

how he stumbles enough for billy to get on his own two feet.

there’s a quick moment where neither moves, then neil rams into billy, but billy keeps his balance well, planted feet and all, and shoved neil back.

within the next minute, they’re both on the floor and alternating who’s got the upper hand. they’re decently matched as opponents, but neil has the upper hand. he’s taken billy down so many times he knows just how to bring him down physically, like how billy can destroy neil with words.

max and susan are backed up another few yards, susan holding max behind her, but not saying a thing. both are too shocked. this has never happened in public.

the party are watching from across the road, and steve feels like he should do something, because neil just slammed billys head into the cement. and he can’t really tell from how far they are, but billy’s nose is sure to be broken.

“call hopper,” steve instructs the party as he moves to walk across the street.

dustin grabs his arm before he can move far. “billy beat you once before, and now there’s like two of him, steve!”

steve walks over anyway. billy had been straddling neil prior, pushing a finger into his shoulder, before being slammed back to the ground.

there’s many different slurs being spewed from neil’s mouth, many of which change steve’s perception of billy entirely, but that’s not important now.

steve gets to where susan and max are when neil gets a grip on billy’s dangly dagger earring and pulls until it rips out of billy’s ear.

susan is staring, horrified at the scene, and max has shoved her face into the pink cardigan her mother wore, peeking out every moment or so.

when she spots steve, she doesn’t feel relived like she hoped she might, she just feels worse. more people don’t need to be involved.

“max, the party’s over there if you wanna...” steve suggests, motioning over his shoulder where the boys are crowded around a pay phone.

max pulls susan along with her across the road, glancing back at steve, who doesn’t seem to know what to do either.

what is he supposed to do? it’s not like dustin was wrong, steve’s never won a fight on his own.

luckily, right as he sees neil stand up and literally stomp as hard as he could on billy’s elbow, backwards, he hears a siren.

sees hopper’s cruiser pull around the corner and feels like a weight is both equally being lifted off his chest and being pushed down heavier.

neil is standing above billy, a few scrapes and forming bruises, ruffled clothes and a tear in the polo he was wearing, but nothing more damaged than his ego.

billy, on the other hand, is laying face down on the concrete, elbow bending in a way that is not natural and half his face covered in blood from both his nose and his ear.

neil looks only mildly frightened by hoppers appearance, and something about it rests uneasy with steve.

steve feels like he’s having an out of body experience as things happen. like he’s only there to observe, which he kinda is, but it’s hazy.

susan comes back, along with the boys following a shaken up max.

another cop, steve thinks it’s callahan, tries to wake billy up, because at some point neil had rendered him unconscious.

neil looks calm while this happens. he has an almost proud air about him as he watches a man try to wake up his son that he’d beaten so bad, he’d passed out.

it makes steve sick.

it also makes steve wonder if this were a semi common occurrence.

billy is driven to the hospital, mostly because his nose is crooked, his ear is still bleeding, and his elbow is most definitely facing the wrong direction, but they also think he may have cracked a rib or two.

neil is driven off in a cop car, callahan’s, while hopper stays to take stories.

it’s news to steve when susan and max share that this has happened multiple times, just never to such a detrimental state.

max recalls the first time that she’d met billy, he’d been wearing a cast on his arm and refused to tell her how he broke it.

steve sees billy in his head. sees the bruises on billy’s back when they’d play shirts and skins and how he’d chalked it up to a childish fight or a fun night with a girl.

sees how billy would favor his left leg for two weeks during basketball, and only wear sweats, but steve had noticed bruising around his right ankle when he’d change his shoes.

sees how billy seems to have insanely good intuition to when people are behind him or when he’s in a crowded place, always on the lookout.

sees, not justification, but a reason behind the way billy acts.

steve can’t imagine, even if his dad was like neil hargrove, having enough nerve to hit him back. even speak rudely towards him.

he recalls all the times he’d seen billy talk shit about his dad or snark at him in public. now he sees them as acts of bravery and defiance from an abuser rather than impolite and hateful towards a parent.

billy’s been fighting this whole time. and he’s been on the right side of the fight.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #neil hargrove #steve harrington #kinda but not really harringrove but imma tag it anyway #harringrove #mw harringrove #mediocre—writing #lol none of this is proof read so good luck #tw abuse #tw domestic violence #tw neil hargrove #tw gore #kinda??

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chelsfic · 4 years ago

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Leftovers - Part 6 - Nandor the Relentless x Reader Fanfic

Previous parts: Masterlist

Summary: In which the reader and Nandor engage in some smut. There are lingering effects after the attack by the unknown vampire. A fight breaks out! And Fucking Colin Robinson can’t help himself when it comes to Scrabble.

A/N: Yeah, hi. It’s me. I spent all day struggling with this unwieldy beast and trying to shape it into something the least bit consistent. I really hope this holds up with the rest of the fic. I am also thinking that a vampire orgy is on the horizon, lol.

Warnings: Smut, Female Reader-insert, Reader is described as short and a roller derby player, lingering trauma from vampire attack, memory loss due to hypnosis

---

The horrible, empty echo of erased memories is still with you when you wake, like a forgotten dream that nags at the back of your mind. Nandor sleeps like the literal dead beside you and the inside of the coffin is utterly dark. His presence wraps around you. His solid body is a comfort and his scent fills the enclosed space--earthy and spicy with an edge of coppery-blood-soaked menace. It should raise the hairs on the back of your neck. Your primitive instincts should be screaming at you to run. Instead you draw closer to him, resting your head beside his, close enough for your breath to warm his lips.

The moment is quiet and still, despite the frantic beat of your heart as you recall the softness of his lips on yours and the proud, possessive audacity of his hands on your body. You think Nandor’s kisses must be at least as addictive to you as your blood is to him. Ever since that frenzied, blood-drunk makeout session you’ve had the memory of it running on repeat in the undercurrent of your thoughts. But, Nandor? Does he...want that outside the context of blood letting?

There’s only one way to find out, chicky, Nadja would say.

You lean forward, pressing your mouth to his cool lips, marveling at the contrast with your sleep-warmed skin. For a long moment he remains unmoving... dead to the world. You dart out your tongue and stroke it along his full lower lip, thrilling when you brush the wicked point of a fang. Your hands cup over his bearded cheeks, and you drag your fingers along his jaw as he gradually stirs beneath your touch. He wakes with a deep groan that rumbles up his throat and into your kiss. His lips move with yours now, parting to admit your seeking tongue. He catches your bottom lip in his teeth and nibbles gently, eliciting a pleased squeak from you.

“Nandor...” you pant. He’s fully awake now. His hand roams down your side, into the dip of your waist and over the round curve of your hips.

“Mortal,” he answers you, dragging his fangs along your lips with a shudder that wracks his frame. He brings his other hand up between you and brushes the tips of his fingers over your lips, “I can feel your blood. Here, and…”

He reaches down and just barely presses his flattened palm over the aching heat between your legs.

“...here,” he finishes.

Your breath falls from your lips in a shaky gasp. His touch is frustratingly light but thrilling all the same. You roll your hips forward, seeking the friction your body craves and Nandor obliges you, snaking his hand between your thighs to cup your sex and rub you through the fabric of your shorts.

“I want you, Nandor,” you hiss in pleasure, peppering kisses to his lips, his cheeks, his nose. It’s a declaration and one you’re not sure he’ll accept.

His mouth curves in pleasure at your admission. He wants to plunge himself inside of you and tear into your neck, erasing the foul touch of that unknown vampire. You’re his human. A growl rips from his throat at the thought.

He lowers his lips to brush against the shell of your ear as he barely whispers, “When I am with you I feel like I did with 35 of my 37 wives…”

He captures your earlobe between his teeth, letting his fang break the skin with a stinging little pinch while at the same time increasing the pressure of his hand against the bundle of pulsing nerves between your legs.

“...I feel as though I could never set another peasant aflame and...still be happy…”

He closes his lips around the tiny wound and sucks, moaning with the heady ambrosia of your virgin blood as you ride his hand.

“You’re in the habit of lighting peasants on fire?” you laugh shakily, your breath coming in heaving gasps.

He laughs haughtily, “I’ve killed a thousand peasants and drunk a thousand virgins, my human.”

Okay, pillow talk could use some...work. It doesn’t matter anyway because you soon lose your power of speech and resort to burying your face in the crook of his neck, breaking his hold on your earlobe in the process.

When Guillermo throws open the lid of the coffin you’re clinging to Nandor’s body with his hand buried between your thighs and a completely obvious moan dying on your lips.

Guillermo’s mouth falls open in shock and you jump away from Nandor, scrambling over the side of the coffin and burning in mortification when you notice the camera crew lurking in the open doorway.

“Guillermo!” Nandor shouts. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

---

“So...things are getting a little complicated with the human…”

Nandor is still seated in his coffin, one arm draped casually along the rim, and addressing the camera with an uncomfortable grimace.

“It’s like, do I want to drink her or do I want to do the sex with her?”

He looks off to the side, shaking his head in confusion. After a moment he finally climbs out of the coffin, standing and revealing the massive erection tenting his trousers.

“I wonder where Laszlo is…?”

---

There’s a saying in the derby world. “Roller derby will save your soul.” Sure, it might ruin your knees, break your nose, and deplete your bank account. But when you’re skating on the track with your league you can let go of everything else in your life for a little while.

The nagging black hole in your memories from the rave went away while Nandor touched you. But it returns with a vengeance soon after and you arrive at practice with a headache and a foul mood. Tonight is contact drills. Thank god. You really need to hit something.

You go through the motions of warming up, tossing greetings to your fellow skaters and letting yourself be in the moment. Your body knows these movements like the lyrics to a favorite song. You’re strong, fast and in control. Everything that you weren’t last night when...whoever it was attacked you and stole your memory. By the time you break a sweat you’re grinning with exhilaration.

You run through drills, losing yourself in muscle memory. The night ends with a short scrimmage and you on your ass after a truly impressive hit from one of the new skaters. The girl looks horrified that she’s hurt you but you just laugh it off, slapping your wrist guard to hers in congratulations.

By the time you step off the bus and make your way up to the front door of the house you’re feeling loose and pleasantly sore. And hardly frustrated at all after your interrupted moment with Nandor this evening.

Hardly at all.

As soon as you step inside Guillermo rushes up to you with a frantic look on his face.

“Nadja and Nandor are going to kill each other!” he cries.

Can you never have a nice, peaceful evening in this house? Maybe a game of Scrabble or a movie night?

All the vampires are assembled in the library and Nandor and Nadja are both floating in the air furiously hissing at one another like a couple of street cats.

“YOU BLOODY, SLUG-FACED ASSHOLE!” Nadja shouts, clawing out her arms and flying towards Nandor, who throws out a kick and sends her crashing into the opposite wall.

“Nandor!” you shout, disgusted. “What is going on!? I leave for a few hours and all hell breaks loose?”

“HUMAN! Tell your snake-ass boyfriend I am not to blame for what happened last night!” Nadja cries, breaking into a hiss as Nandor flies at her with murder in his eyes.

“Stop it, Nandor!” you shout, dropping your gear bag and reaching up to snag his ankle as he floats by. Rather than slowing him down as you intended, you end up getting dragged along the floor in his wake as he chases Nadja out into the hallway.

“Gaaah!” you shriek, hanging on to him and trying to dig your heels into the floor to slow him down. When that doesn’t work you forcibly pull yourself up his leg, grabbing onto the thick belt at his waist and climbing until you’re wrapped around him piggyback-style. You clamp your hands over his eyes and shout, “Stop!”

“Fu-cking human!” Nandor curses, reaching up and prying your hands off his eyes. “You stop it or I’ll drain you right now. I mean it!”

The threat falls flat, considering he’s currently in an apparent fight to the death over your safety and honor…

“If you kill Nadja I’ll never kiss you again...or any other stuff!” you growl, digging your fingers into his thick hair and giving it a yank. He hisses and swats at your hands.

Nandor actually pauses to consider your words, looking over his shoulder at you in hesitation before scoffing, “Psssk, you can’t resist my dark power, human. Now shut up and let me kill our roommate!”

Nadja has retreated up to the vaulted ceiling above the main entryway and Nandor surges upward after her.

You shriek in terror, “I’m afraid of heights, you jerk!”

“I’LL RIP OUT ALL OF YOUR DIRTY PUBIC HAIRS AND SHOVE THEM IN YOUR EYEBALLS YOU--!”

Just as Nandor is about to collide with your astonishingly imaginative vampire mama, Laszlo barrels out of nowhere and rams into him with a dramatic cry, “I say, keep your hands off my lady wife!”

Nandor launches backwards and crashes against the wall, crushing you and knocking the wind from your lungs in the impact. You both crumple onto the upstairs balcony. Nandor recovers at once, making ready to jump into the fray, but you’re lying on your back, coughing and wheezing as you try to get in a breath.

“Stupid...jerk...vampires! Knock it off!” you gasp.

Nadja flies down from her perch to land at your side with a moue of concern.

“Poor, baby,” Nadja coos over you before turning on Nandor. “Now look what you’ve done, donkey dick!”

Nandor kneels on your other side and whines, “I did nothing! It was Laszlo!”

You lift yourself up onto your elbows and eye both vampires with as much exasperation as you can summon.

“Enough! Nadja...I forgive you for leaving me on my own. I know how horny you are--”

“Thank you, human,” she sniffs.

“Nandor...stop trying to kill Nadja,” you order, trying to instill the tone of authority into your voice that comes so naturally to him.

He rolls his eyes and pouts but finally murmurs, “Fine.”

“Good…” you sigh, getting to your feet with a moan of pain. “I’m gonna go lay in bed with an ice pack on my ass. Try not to kill anyone--er, well...at least try not to kill each other…”

---

After a shower and some icing of the blossoming red and purple derby bruise on your right butt cheek, you make your way downstairs to find that Nadja, Laszlo and Nandor have all gone out hunting. Colin is sitting by himself in the library with his newspaper and Guillermo is tucked away in his room, talking to his mom on the phone.

“Hey,” you greet Colin as you gingerly drop down onto the couch. “Do we have any board games? Maybe Scrabble?”

A grin spreads across Colin’s lips and you miss the sheen of blue hunger in his eyes as he replies, “I think I’ve got an old Scrabble set around here somewhere…”

---

“...And then in 2017 it was David Eldar who took home the championship. But, of course, today the reigning champion is still Nigel Richards. But what’s really fascinating about competitive mind sports, like Scrabble--”

“What the fuck!” Nandor appears in the doorway of the library and you immediately turn to him and make grabby hands.

“Save me!” you implore dramatically.

Colin snickers under his breath, “Sorry, Nandor, I couldn’t help it. There’s just something about Scrabble that really gets me going…”

“Fucking Colin Robinson…” Nandor mutters darkly as he trails you up the stairs, following you right into your room and shutting the door on the camera crew behind him.

You plop down onto your bed, wincing a little with the pain of your massive bruise. When you glance up at Nandor you notice a splash of red blood on his chin.

“Have a nice...hunt?” you ask, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.

Nandor grins and perches beside you on the bed with a sweep of his cape.

“Jealous?” he questions with a smug smirk that bares his fangs.

Yes.

“No,” you insist. “I like my blood right where it is, thanks.”

Nandor narrows his eyes and needles, “Really...” His gaze falls to rest on the thrumming pulse of your throat. “Are you sure you don’t prefer it on my lips...or my tongue…?”

He crawls over you and the dark curtains of his long hair cascade down around your face as he bends to lay a kiss along your jaw.

“No biting!” you insist and he pulls back with a pout.

“Not even just to wash the taste of those joggers out of my mouth? They tasted like shit!” he complains.

You really shouldn’t be pleased that he prefers the taste of your blood over others but…

“You’re getting spoiled,” you grumble, reaching up and idly playing with his hair. “But you’re very pretty…”

Nandor settles down beside you and pulls you onto his chest, running his hands over your back and down to the curve of your backside with a lecherous leer.

“You’re the one who’s spoiled. I should have left you in the human cell to feed on when I choose…”

The threat is comically empty.

You roll your eyes at him and squirm up to press a kiss to his bearded chin, “Yeah, but then I’d probably be dead by now...and you wouldn’t have someone to smooch and cuddle in your coffin, so…”

He cups your face in his hands, drawing you back down and pressing his mouth to yours in a long, passionate kiss that erases the taste of jogger’s blood from his tongue.

“I suppose that there are certain benefits to mercy…”

Nandor picks up where you left off in his crypt. He kisses you senseless, until you’re a squirming bundle of need and then he finally reaches down between you and pushes his large hand down the front of your shorts and into your wet folds. His hands may have been made to hold a sword in battle, to bring pain and death, but they are also capable of the utmost tender and skilled care as he works you into a keening frenzy on top of him. You wail with the intensity of the orgasm that crashes through you and he keeps his hand on you, rubbing and stroking your oversensitive flesh until it almost hurts.

His erection juts between your bodies, obscenely obvious through the thick fabric of his trousers. You’re still breathless with the force of the pleasure he’s given you when you make your first shy, tentative advances. As soon as your warm hand presses against him through his pants Nandor let’s out a fierce growl and he grabs your wrist, directing you to apply more pressure, rutting himself against your little hand. You reach for the waist of his pants with your free hand, tugging at it and fiddling with the absurd number of buttons until he finally assists you, opening his fly and reaching in to free himself.

Nandor’s smile is goofy and pleased with himself as he watches your virgin eyes roam over the impressive length of him. You reach out to touch. He’s thick and heavy in your hand. Your touch is feather light, experimental, hesitant. You watch as his eyes fall closed and his lips part. Nandor the Relentless is at the mercy of his mortal pet. Your touch grows firm, more confident. He fists his hands into the sheets and pants out the faintest, needy cries of pleasure until he’s twitching and shaking in your hand with his own release. The cold spurt of his seed falls over your fist and stains the rich fabric of his tunic.

Now that it’s over you’re unaccountably shy. You tuck yourself into his side and hide your face in his shoulder as he recovers himself. You fall asleep like that, clinging to him. And for the first time in centuries Nandor sleeps outside his coffin, curled protectively around you.

---

You’re sitting cross-legged in the high-backed armchair across from the camera man. His question hangs in the air and you pull the hood of your sweatshirt up, tugging on the drawstrings to hide your face as you answer.

“Yeah...I’m still a virgin.”

Memories of the previous night swirl through your head and you tighten the drawstrings until only your eyes peer out from the hoodie.

“...for now.”

---

“Guillermo!” Nandor shouts from his crypt. “I have clothes for the washer woman!”

---

A/N: Ugh---please send me soft, nice things. I’m entirely unsure if I’m happy with this. The only part I know I love was the fight scene with Nadja and Nandor.

Tags:

@festering-queen @glitterportrait @kandomeresbitch @scuzmunkie @redwoodshadows

#nandor #nandor the relentless #nandor x reader #nandor the relentless x reader #nandor imagine #nandor the relentless imagine #nandor the relentless fanfic #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fanfic #wwdits fanfic #kayvan novak

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mihidecet · 4 years ago

Text

Tibi’s MCYT WritingTober, day 30

I’m back on my bs, dears. Warning for many many swears because Mr Ram President Man is back again! This is somewhat of a sequel to the post-possession one, so ... uh.

Today’s prompt from @the-only-gamer-gost ‘s list is “Stuck in a Room Together”!

I do hope you’ll enjoy! <3

Schlatt's fist pounds furiously against the stone wall once more, as if the first few times it had been able to change anything - except for making his wrist hurt.

"Fundy you better let us out right now!" He yells to the cold surface, hoping the edge of worry in his voice isn't that clear. Or maybe hoping it is - maybe if Fundy thinks he's not doing that well he'll let them out and then he won't have to deal with this.

"You're not getting out until you talk!" Replies Fundy's muffled voice through the wall and Schlatt can't help but let his head thump on it.

The sound of somebody heavily sitting down on a couch reaches his ears and Schlatt freezes, remembering he is definitely not alone in the room.

"I have nothing to say to this asshole." Quackity says as he starts to fix the pillows on the sofa, piling them all on one side.

"I told you he was possessed!" Fundy yells back, an edge of frustration in his tone that makes Schlatt want to bash his head in - the last thing he needs is that kid trying to fix all the messes he made.

"That doesn't excuse him being an asshole."

Schlatt whips around, arms crossed over his chest and chin raised proudly - while inside he screams, this is the worst reaction he could have had - as venom tinges his words.

"I- I'm not going to fucking- apologize!" He protests, knowing that Fundy is probably pulling at his hair on the other side of the wall. Quackity instead just chuckles, looking neither surprised nor insulted, and he spreads his arms wide as he reclines in his spot - he now owns all of the couch in that meeting room - with a mix of amused sarcasm and exhaustion.

"Then I guess we might as well get comfortable."

"Fundy."

Schlatt is sitting on the ground - he refuses to accept that he's not getting out anytime soon, even if he's in one of the most uncomfortable positions ever. No answers come from the outside world.

"Fundyy …"

He tries again in almost a whine - even though it is definitely not, he would never whine - but the only answer he gets comes from behind him.

"He's gone." After his last quip, Quackity had stopped talking and firmly refused to acknowledge his existence. Which, for all that he is right in doing so, stings. Schlatt, nerves on fire and back hurting, falls face flat in the metaphorical pit he previously dug himself.

"Oh, so now I am-"

Quackity opens one fiery eye, shooting him a look that shuts him up instantly.

"Shut the fuck up before I shoot you again." Schlatt deflates and turns back to the stone wall with a murmured grumble.

"I guess."

"So-" It's been forever since he heard anything but the sound of his own breathing, or the subtle shifting of fabric against fabric as he tries to find a comfortable position to sit in - too stubborn to move from the ground, too stubborn to move anywhere else, too stubborn to back down.

But he is but a gust of wind crashing against the solid rock that is Quackity, who doesn't even open his eyes.

"Your apology is not accepted."

Like clockwork, he launches himself back into the ground; one hand trembling by his side as his chin whips up so fast he almost crashes the back of his head against the wall.

"Fuck you, I wasn't going to-" Quackity's lips curl up in a bittersweet, cruel smile.

"Bye."

"Are you sleeping?" His voice is soft, but it fills the silence of the room like the booming sound of a- of a megaphone. Not that other booming sound. He's not thinking about that.

The room is cold and Quackity almost sounds exhausted when he answers, one arm over his eyes.

"Shut up."

Schlatt"s eyes move to the ground. He feels cold, so he brings his legs closer to his chest - standard procedure for when you're lost in a snowstorm, or when you're sinking into your own shit.

"Sorry."

"Oh wow, didn't know you had it in you." Quackity comments, sounding genuinely surprised, and it almost breaks him. Almost.

"I- what did I say? When I was possessed." He asks, voice pitching wrong in all the worst moments, but he powers through, because it's worth it. God, how much he misses hanging out with the other man.

Only silence follows, and with Quackity's arm over his face he doesn't even know if the man heard him. So he tries. It is worth it.

"Q-"

"I don't hear you shutting up."

And he breaks a little.

"You tore down the white house."

This time it's Quackity that breaks the silence, but Schlatt almost wishes he didn't. He's tired, cold, hungry, and the only thing that could make it worse is if Quackity took his arm off his face and saw how his face is currently wet - it's not that hard to cry silently if one is prideful enough.

"Insulted me, belittled me. But I mean, you'd been pushing people away for a long time. Hell, the festival had just happened. But I had been staying by your side because I believe in democracy, first and foremost. And you were just … pissing all over everything I'd worked for. Everything I stood for."

For better or for worse, there is no mercy for Schlatt. Quackity stretches as he speaks, tone deadly serious as he lays down what happened. And a part of Schlatt always knew that the other man has always been stronger than him, more mature. That's why he's talking calmly, head level despite how evident it is that he was hurt, while he is crying silently, curled up on himself and still unable to allow himself to take the first step.

"You made me feel like shit, Schlatt. And I trusted you." Quackity sits up, rubs a hand over his face tiredly, and then finally looks at him. Freezes. Blinks.

Schlatt wishes the earth would instantly swallow him whole. He wants to run, to pretend it is a joke, a prank. He knows he can't. Doesn't want to.

His hand moves to wipe at his burning face as he flushes in shame, feeling it coil around his stomach.

"I- I'm so sorry. Fuck- I- shit, this is embarrassing-"

"Jesus Christ, are you actually crying?" Quackity asks, disbelief clear in his voice, and Schlatt can't help but push back, because it is getting quite a bit too much and that is simply all he knows to do.

"Have been for the past hour, thank you for noticing." He jokes, voice cracking only twice, never once stumbling on a word, never once letting out the sob he's been holding back for forever.

He can do this. He forcefully grabs his own hands, mentally gripping the reins of his emotions and thoughts and stomps down his pride as he looks up at his former friend.

"Quackity I am so sorry. I fucked up and I- I just miss you. I don't care about the politics, I- I fucked up. And I don't know how to fix it."

For a moment, all Quackity does is stare at him, as if he's seeing him for the first time. Then, he shrugs.

"I don't know either."

"But I- I want to try!"

Quackity smirks, raising an eyebrow as he crosses his arms.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me?" Schlatt's shoulders fall, one arm circling around his legs to bring them closer to his body as the other rubs self-consciously at the back of his neck.

"I- come on, you know I'm shit at dealing with emotional stuff!"

Quackity bursts out laughing, gesturing vaguely at him

"I can see that."

"Hey, fuck you!"

Quackity raises an eyebrow.

"Fuck, shit. Sorry. I'm doing it again."

This time, thankfully, Quackity is smiling as he shakes his head and looks up to the sky. And then, when he looks back at him again, there's a fondly amused look on his face.

"I guess you can join me on the couch."

As Schlatt stands up - body aching and joints popping, making Quackity laugh out loud and call him old - he thinks that, maybe, there is hope for them yet.

#mcyt writingtober #jschlatt #quackity #fundy #he's there too for like a bit #lots of swears

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let-me-love-you-loki · 4 years ago

Text

Too Late for R & R-Part 1

Part 1

Mattie

It was different than being in the ring with Dad and Papa. They’d trained me for this since I was seven. For a while, I thought they’d put me on TV right away. Of course, none of them saw it that way. I had to earn it, just like everyone else in the business. There would be no network TV debut right off the bat. There were warmup matches and squash matches and practice on the mic. No matter how good I was, everyone knew I wasn’t ready for the big show. Not yet.

But I still trained with Dad and Papa, Uncle Kenny and Adam. Sometimes even Chuck and Trent would jump in if they had to go off to do something. Once, Arn Anderson even got in the ring with me. It was amazing. And being a Jackson meant something—just like being a Rhodes—but it didn’t mean I could get away without earning my stripes.

Uncle Kenny was the one who offered me a spot. Dad made sure that I understood that, if I signed it, I would be working for Tony and Uncle Kenny. They would be my bosses. They would be the ones who decided when I wrestled, where, and who. I could offer ideas, I could make suggestions and work on my character, but they had the final say. Dad and Papa wouldn’t be asking for special favors for me, and I shouldn’t think I’d get any.

“In fact,” Dad had said to me right before I signed the contract, “they’re going to expect more from you because you’re a Jackson.”

I debuted on Dark as a partner and valet for one of the newly signed guys. His went by Alex Wonder, and he’d been brought on to join the revived Team Taz. He was like me—basically unknown on the wrestling scene—but he had an amazing talent. He was a heel, and Uncle Kenny said I needed to stretch my acting muscles. I wouldn’t be a babyface all the time, after all.

Alex was fighting Orange Cassidy in the opening match of Dark. They’d developed a tiny feud that was enough to tell a story. I wasn’t quite sure how I fit in with the whole storyline just yet, but we were working on it. Still, I’d come out with him, dressed in a pair of grey skinny jeans, Jordans, and a strappy black top. My job was to look good and distract the referee and his opponent as much as possible.

I figured I could do that.

***

I could feel my heart thumping out of my chest as I sat ringside to watch the match. It was late—going on midnight—and filming for the next week’s episode of Dark had been delayed in starting. The long minutes of waiting didn’t help my anxiety one bit. There were so many things that could go wrong, even though I knew Mattie wouldn’t be seeing any real wrestling action for a while. As a mother, I wanted her to succeed at her dream, but I was also terrified of what might happen when she chased after it for good. Being a wrestling wife twice over was one thing, but adding in being a wrestling mom… I didn’t know if my heart could take it.

“She’s going to be fine, Mama,” Matt said from the chair beside me. We sat near the barrier that separated the audience from the ring. We were in Daily’s Place with a small crowd—minute really—so it wasn’t too hard to hear him. He had a brace on his knee, a support for the healing ACL. Nick and I had finally convinced him to get the surgery to repair it a month before. After all, the Young Bucks had slowed down a little in recent years, and it wasn’t a huge deal for him to be out for nine months.

“Trust us,” Nick murmured from behind me. He squeezed his hands on my shoulders and dropped down to press a kiss to the top of my head. I could sense the nerves running through him. They matched my own.

We watched as the match began. Mattie was leaning against the apron with her attention focused on what was going on. I could see her watching, taking in every move and step and spot. She watched Alex Wonder carefully, as if his safety was in her hands. In a way, it was. She paced around the corner, coming closer to us. I could see Matt in the set of her jaw and Nick in the earnestness of her eyes.

The action spilled out to ringside. Mattie did a good job of staying out of the way. She distracted the referee so Alex could get a cheap shot in. Cassidy bounced off the ropes and came bounding back across the ring. He reached out and grabbed the ropes as he fell into a baseball slide. In the same moment, Alex grabbed Mattie by the shoulders and yanked her in between him and the oncoming Cassidy.

I saw the flash of panic on Mattie’s face as she flung her arms out in front of her. She turned, her left leg forward. I saw the moment when Cassidy realized he was too deep into the move to stop. My heart leapt into my throat as I let out a scream. “Mattie!”

Nick

Slow motion. That’s what it felt like as I watched Cassidy slide at speed beneath the bottom rope and ram straight into my daughter. Her arms were locked out in front of her, palms out, left leg locked in front to bear her weight. I could see what was about to happen before it did.

When they collided, I didn’t know who was screaming louder, Mattie or her mother.

I moved before I could think. I vaulted over the security rail, not caring if I took the camera guy with me. All I could think was that I had to get to my daughter. I shoved down the nausea that tore through me as I raced around the side of the ring. The match stopped the referee Alex, and Cassidy gathered around a body on the floor at ringside. I skidded along the mat, practically tossing people out of the way in my terror.

“Tea,” I said frantically, shoving Cassidy to the side. Alex hovered just out of reach—smart on his part. I’d have knocked him out if he’d been close enough.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Nick… we didn’t plan that spot…” Cassidy said, sounding heartbroken. As if he were going to be just as sick as me. He’d known Mattie since she was a baby. He’d probably hate himself if she were seriously hurt. A second later, he glared at Alex Wonder with murder in his eyes.

“Mattie,” I said again, crawling closer until I was right beside my daughter, Doc Sampson knelt on her other side, his hands gently probing her left wrist and her right leg. I didn’t need him to tell me. Her left leg was twisted at an odd angle. White bone and bloody gore pushed through the skin of her left forearm. Her face was splotchy, alternately crimson and ashy pale. “Mattie.”

“We need to get her to the hospital,” Doc Sampson said. He glanced at my daughter’s arm and then back at her leg. “I think she’s got at least one break there.”

My eyes burned, and I couldn’t stop myself from crying. Tears poured down my face as I hovered over my first-born child. Her face was a mask of pain and terror. It was amazing that she hadn’t passed out or gone into shock yet. Doc Sampson was on the walkie to backstage. A gurney rolled out from the back, medics pushing people out of the way.

I looked up and back. Y/N and Matt were at the railing, watching with faces almost as white as Mattie’s. Matt was on crutches, unable to get close. Our wife was frozen with terror, her worst nightmares coming true.

“Go tell them we’re going to the hospital. Get security, and get them out of the crowd as fast as possible,” I ordered Cassidy. He nodded, still looking as if he were either going to puke or rip Wonder apart with his bare hands, then practically ran toward the spot where my brother and our wife waited.

Matt

I kept one arm around Y/N’s waist, knowing that if I let go, she would hit the floor. I could see it in the ghostly pallor of her face and the fact that she barely looked to be breathing. “It’s okay, Y/N. It’s okay.”

Cassidy came closer, his face alternately angry red and sick green. I could already see him blaming himself for what happened. He’d barely opened his mouth to speak when I heard the sound of my brother’s rage-filled voice.

“Stupid, dumbass prick! Careless asshole!” Half a breath later the distinctive sound of two stiff hits echoed through the quiet. Wonder’s hands moved reflexively, coming up toward his face, but he hit the ringside mat before he could realize what happened. Nick moved toward the back with purpose, the knuckles of his right hand busted open and bloodied. He held it still, as if he had hurt himself.

A pair of security guards appeared behind us, clearing a way for us through the sparse crowd. I cursed under my breath, hating the way the crutches slowed me down. How it slowed my wife down. I knew her as well as I knew anyone else, and I was certain that she was panicked beyond recognition. Her greatest fear had been that one of us would get hurt. I’d always though it would be me or my brother. I never stopped to think that it would be my daughter.

By the time we made it out of Daily’s Place and into the lot, the ambulance had already driven away with Nick in the back with Mattie. Our rental car had been brought to the curb. Y/N trembled as she got behind the wheel. Her fingers clenched the steering wheel until her knuckles were white, skin stretched thin. I didn’t want her to drive—she had to be in shock—but I was useless. I couldn’t drive with my knee.

“Move,” someone said from by the driver’s door. I looked across my wife to see Adam Page standing there. “I’ll drive, Y/N. You’re in no state to.”

Adam caught my eye, his face a mixture of pure rage and sickening worry. I knew it was an expression mirrored by my wife and I. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was worn by everyone in the back. They’d all known Mattie since she was little.

He helped Y/N out and into the back. Just before he shut the door, shouts came from the arena exit. Kenny came racing across the lot, tugging a shirt on over his head as he ran, Brandon on his heels. They slid in on either side of my wife in the back seat, huddling close and slipping their arms around her. Adam gunned it from the parking lot and practically fishtailed into the street. The moment he could, Adam pushed the car to near ninety and my wife fell apart, sobbing so hard that she could hardly breathe. I twisted in my seat to take her hand, lacing our fingers together while Kenny and Brandon did their best to hold her together.

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it @not-that-kinda-gurl08 @lilred91 @imagineall-the-fandoms @maelleoute @librathepheonix13 @justamess44

#too late tales #the too late tales #matt jackson #nick jackson #young bucks #matt jackson fanfiction #nick jackson fanfiction #young bucks fanfiction #aew #aew fanfiction #polyamory #polyamorous relationships #wrestling #injury #real person fanfiction #matt x reader #nick x reader #matt x reader x nick

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dopescotlandwarrior · 4 years ago

Text

Bluegrass-Chapter 24

Much love to @Statell for making my stories flow.

Previous chapter on AO3

Chapter Twenty-Four

The shop owner bent over his worktable and pried the stones out of the gold setting. The ring was fourteen karat gold and would fetch a nice price. When the bell above the door tinkled, he looked up at a lady coming to the counter. She tossed a large ring on the counter.

“Sell or pawn?”

“Sell.”

He looked at her and reached for his loop. She looked like a street person so how did she come by this, he wondered. To his amazement the diamonds were real, and the gold tested to eighteen karat. His heart was ramming.

“Who’d you steal this from lady?”

“It’s mine, you ignorant asshole.”

“Sorry, I can’t help you. Try down the street.”

She grabbed the ring and looked at the man with her one good eye. “Fuck you.”

He watched her carry her bulk toward the door and waved his hand in the air to chase away her body odor.

The woman tried two more pawn shops and the third was owned by someone with fewer scruples. He bought the ring for one thousand dollars plus a gun. It was a lady Smith and Wesson five-shooter. She grabbed a box of shells on her way out, looking at the man defiantly. He ran to lock his door and start making calls. This ring would sell quickly for ten thousand. If it wasn’t hot, he could ask fifty thousand easily. He flipped open his phone book and started dialing.

The sweaty woman stumbled into Walmart and felt the cool air inside provide a little more energy for the last item she needed. Twenty minutes later she held her new phone to her ear and ordered a taxi to take her to the Motel 6. She paid the driver without a tip and heaved herself out of the car. There were working girls and ugly people all around the place. She would fit right in.

Walking up to the desk, she pulled her shirt down over the roll of fat that bulged from her tight waistband. The clothes she was arrested in were now three sizes too small. Prison food is created to keep hundreds of people full for a few hours. Not much thought went into the caloric intake or a balanced meal. Carbohydrates and fat were the main ingredients of her diet for eleven months and she tipped the scale at two-hundred and fifty pounds. The clothes she wore were donated by the prison and they were cutting her in half.

Pulling her coach wallet out of her bag she pulled her license and scooted it toward the clerk. Ten minutes later she was locking her door and scowling at the traffic noise right outside her window. It would have to do.

She was exhausted. It took all night to get processed out of jail and then shown the door to freedom at five o’clock in the morning. She would sleep a bit and then call her father. He will want her to come home because there was nothing for her in Kentucky. He would put her mother on the phone who would beg and cry for her daughter to come back to Scotland. That could wait as well, she decided.

For eleven months she has thought of little else then Jamie Fraser, the man who stole millions of dollars from her by denying her any rights to the business or his new horse. Word went around the prison that Midnight Runner won the Triple Crown and that meant an extraordinary life was now his to live while she was shipped back to Scotland like yesterday’s trash. God she hated him.

Isobel laid down on the bed but thinking about Jamie got her so riled up she couldn’t sleep. Maybe a hot shower would help. The rundown hotel had a small mirror in the bathroom, the first clear mirror in eleven months. She looked at her face and tears rolled down her fat cheeks. One of her eyelids opened only a slit after she was punched in the forehead during a prison fight. The nerve damage was permanent. She looked at her hair cut almost to her scalp. A going-away present from the bitches who hated her and kept her in solitary much of the time. She recalled being held on the ground while the meanest of them cut off her hair. It stuck out in all directions and she tried to smooth it down with water, but nothing helped. She was raging inside at what he did to her. This was all his fault.

Isobel’s father kept money on her books, the maximum allowable at the insistence of her mother. Isobel had nothing but disdain for other women making it quite impossible to make friends who could help her. She bargained her commissary for favors and finally found someone with a relative who would look up Chad’s whereabouts. He was in the Kentucky State Penitentiary in Eddyville and she wrote to him every day and couldn’t wait to hear back. Months went by with no word and she became hurt, and then mad. She sent another letter and on the outside of the envelope in small letters, she wrote “you little puke of a man why won’t you answer me?” She didn’t expect a response and when one came it was short and to the point.

‘Enduring your disgusting presence and vomit worthy sex was a means to an end. You self-absorbed cow. You never figured out I was gay because you were busy looking at yourself, with or without a mirror. It made it easy to manipulate you. Happy now?’

That was Jamie’s fault as well, she stormed in her head. He deserves to be skinned alive and forced to watch. She wouldn’t risk him getting the upper hand, so she had to settle for a bullet in his head.

She picked up her purse and left. There was a liquor store on the corner and she needed whisky, and a lot of it.

Claire woke up in an empty bed and noticed a note on her side table. She smiled as she read it.

“It is a perfect day to sit on the sundeck and read. There is nothin you need to do today, and I won’t be long with Michael.”

They had purchased a new double-wide ergonomic chase and had not tried it out yet. Maybe they could read the book together. While she waited for Jamie, she chose pages throughout the book to read and was very impressed with Michael’s writing. The theme running throughout the book was about kindness to the horse through various means, particularly the whip. He advocated the elimination of pain as a motivator. It would change horse racing completely because the competitors would be running because they wanted to win. The horse had to love running and it could be done, according to Michael, but training and reward had to change.

Claire wondered how this book would differ from Nosh’s. He was coming to Kentucky the following week and would spend the day with them. She was excited to fulfill her promise to finish her story, whether he believed her or not.

Jamie dropped Michael at his hotel just after noon. He would be joining them for dinner tonight and would UBER back around seven o��clock. Jamie looked forward to an afternoon lounging with his best girl.

For the rest of the day, Jamie and Claire took turns reading the book and powered through half of it before cuddling on the chase to nap a bit.

“Sassenach.” Jamie ran his hand down her arm until she opened her eyes. “Will ye come with me to bring the horses in?”

She smiled up at him and nodded yes before pulling her jeans and boots on. They walked to the barn and discussed the book, both commenting on how much they had forgotten about those crazy days. They brought fifteen horses in, two at a time, then went to bring in the mares and babies. Claire laughed at the antics of the foals, running ahead and then freezing with fear when they couldn’t see their mothers. When all were put away for the night, they made one more trip for Runner and Porcelain. When Jamie watched them running to the gate, he looked at Claire with a big smile.

“I’d like to bring Porcelain into season early and breed her in February.”

“To him?”

It was settled. Porcelain would be Runner’s first cover and Claire was thrilled. A touch of romance in an otherwise clinical setting of the breeding room. They would be each other’s first.

As they walked home, Jamie threw up his arms and announced he had finished the repairs on Runner’s stall, and they could move them back to their larger accommodations. Claire held his hand and told him tomorrow would be soon enough. She had a shower and cooking to do.

It was a delightful time to sit with their old friend, spoil him with steak, roasted vegetables, and copious amounts of whisky. Claire considered inviting others to dinner but decided she didn’t want to share Michael’s time. They ate at the table outside and simply moved to more comfortable seats to continue the discussion.

Jamie answered the doorbell and spoke to a neighbor before announcing he would be back in ten minutes. The neighbor needed a jump. Michael offered to come and help but Jamie told him to relax, he had this.

Michael had Claire in giggle overload reminding her of times they were on the road. Claire got up to grab the coffee pot and stopped in her tracks.

“Michael, do you smell something burning.”

He stood up and said he smelled it too. When Claire opened the front door, she screamed for Michael. It was definitely a fire and somewhere close. They started running and a quarter-mile never seemed so far. The closer they got; they were more convinced it was the barn on fire. Claire punched numbers into the keypad, and Michael opened the roll away doors as smoke poured out.

“Chase them all out, Michael!”

Claire ran down the aisle pulling stall doors open until she got to Runner and Porcelain and they were not moving. None of the horses were running outside. She slapped Porcelain hard on the rump knowing Runner would follow. The mare whinnied loudly and took off for the big doors.

Claire looked at the smoke filling the barn and coughed into her shirt. She saw horses running by but could not see Michael. She continued to work her way down the aisle smacking horses so they would run to safety. She looked up and saw babies running alongside their mothers and knew Michael had gone to the dams’ wing to set them free.

Jamie waved to the neighbor as he drove down their shared road. He caught the scent of burning wood and jumped into the bed of his truck to look for smoke. Finally, he saw the embers rising into the air on his own property! With a hammering heart, he drove through the gate and saw horses scattered all over. He knew someone was at the barn and drove as fast as possible, ever watchful for a horse running across the road.

Jamie ran to the barn. His heart rate was in the stroke zone and he started coughing the second he was inside. He called for Claire as he ran down the aisle looking for any stuck horses. The dams’ wing was empty, where the hell was Claire and Michael? Or whoever let the horses out. He turned the turbines on that pulled air from the interior. They were all over the roof so he ran as fast as he could flipping them on high.

He called the fire department as he ran for Runner’s wing. The door was open and something inside him told him to proceed with caution. He could hear Claire and Michael coughing. Why were they in there? When he heard Isobel’s voice his blood turned to ice. He forced himself not to cough and give away his presence. He searched frantically for a way to get the drop on her. He had to do something before Claire and Michael died from asphyxiation.

He ran to the back of the barn where the smoke was too thick to see. He ran his hand along the wall until he felt the switches for the turbines. Filling his lungs with air he ran into the equipment room and pulled out a ten-foot length of steel pipe, very relieved it wasn’t burning hot and ran back.

Claire wasn’t coughing any more and Jamie knew she passed out with death coming for her. Without another second to think he rammed the door open and kept running as Isobel’s startled face came into view. She raised the gun just as he rammed the pipe into her stomach, impaling her on the back wall. He threw Claire over his shoulder and helped Michael to his feet pulling them outside to safety.

The fire engines were coming in slowly with no siren because Jamie explained there were horses scattered all over the property. Michael was bent over coughing and Claire was silent, unconscious. Jamie lowered her to the ground feeling more terrified than he had been in his life.

“Claire! Claire!”

The EMT’s pulled him away to render lifesaving aid to his wife, his soulmate, his whole world. Fire hydrants were installed on the land according to zoning rules and the men soon had two flows of water directed at the fire. Jamie heard more sirens coming only to go silent as they negotiated the gate and keypad.

The ambulance EMT’s were given instructions to open the gate and wait for it to close to make sure no horses escaped. The driver knew there were critical injuries and it took all his training and willpower not to barrel ahead to the injured. Jamie was covered with soot and sweat as he gripped his wife’s hand.

“Please Claire, ye must fight yer way back to me or I will surely die with ye.”

He was pulled away as they wheeled the gurney into the ambulance, Michael was loaded into a second vehicle. Jamie sank to his knees as a great crash came from the barn and a plume of embers rose into the night sky. Jamie didn’t flinch. He couldn’t move as he was locked into his pleading prayers to God.

A great fireball exploded into the dark sky and men were yelling about a secondary fire. Jamie heard none of it and continued to pray.

The captain pulled Jamie up and brought him under the light spreading out a schematic of the barn interior.

“Is there anyone else in the building?”

Jamie pointed to Runner’s wing. The fire captain pulled him to the large engine and told him to sit down. The huge fire engines took up all the space available in front of the barn and police cruisers were lined up behind them. Officers were standing by a short distance away and the captain went to speak with them.

Jamie felt the tears fall off his face, he knew his business was in ruins, his prize horse chased into the darkness, but none of that mattered as much as Claire’s pale, soot-stained face. He looked up at the commanding voice above him and stared at the officer with blank eyes.

“You identified an area where someone was left inside. I am sorry to inform you that the roof caved in above that wing about five minutes ago. Did anyone go back inside to pull the person out?”

“No. I impaled her against the wall with a ten-foot length of steel pipe.”

Jamie stood up and walked toward his vehicle but never made it. It took five officers to hold him back and he was finally cuffed and dropped into a cruiser. He had no comprehension of what was happening, and he fought against the restraints until he felt a blinding pain as his wrist separated. He slumped forward choking through this added suffering.

“Mister Fraser! Stop struggling I have news of your wife. She is in intensive care, so is the other man, but they are expected to pull through. They are gonna be fine. You have confessed to a capital crime. You belong to the Lexington police force now so you might as well cooperate and sit still. You’re a big man and tasers hurt, so walk when you’re told, sit where you’re told and answer our questions. It’s the best advice I can give you.”

Jamie did as told and explained who Isobel was, how she tried to kill his horses before. He did not know she was released on parole. She had set fire to the barn and held Claire and Michael at gunpoint as they slowly choked to death in front of her. She wore an elaborate gas mask and just stood by as they struggled to breathe. She had raised her gun to Jamie’s head as he rammed the pipe into her stomach. He did not bother to go back in to save her because he was too busy with his wife and friend.

“I didn’t know if she was alive or dead. I didn’t care.”

Jamie was a pillar of the community and the officers made quick work of releasing him with the warning to not leave the state. There was an officer waiting to take him to the hospital. Jamie sat in the back seat holding his throbbing wrist. The officer decided to break the rules for the poor man and turned on his siren as he raced to the hospital.

Jamie piled out of the car and ran into the emergency department. He approached Claire slowly with tears streaking through the grime on his face. He was so overcome at the sight of her his whole body started to shake.

The nurse taking her blood pressure almost fainted at the sight of Jamie but recovered quickly as his face softened looking at his wife.

“She has been asking for you if your name is Jamie that is.” She had a warm smile and a concerned face.

“It is… my name is Jamie.”

The nurse ran for the chair that was shared among the visitors because it looked like he would fall any minute. She pushed Jamie into it and asked if he was alright.

“As soon as this lass opens her eyes, I will be fine.”

“She is doing really well physically. Her doctor may keep her tonight, not sure yet.”

Jamie looked down at Claire’s open eyes, looking at him. She seemed to look at everything she could see and then he watched her dissolve in tears. She was fighting to stop crying but she just couldn’t. She tried to speak to him, but no sound came out.

“Her voice will come back. Two or three days.”

Claire was asleep again and Jamie felt lost suddenly. She just closed her eyes to the pain that was making her cry, leaving Jamie alone. He picked up the phone and called Jason, then Angus. He knew he had to leave her and get back to what was left of their barn. He kissed her face and walked toward the entrance, there lingering at the doorway was the officer who drove him to the hospital.

“Mister Fraser, I waited to take you home, sir.”

Jamie looked battle-scarred and fatigued at the moment, so they headed for his home without further comment. The fire was out, and firemen continued to crawl through the haylofts and roof structure looking for live embers. They had done an excellent job limiting the damage. The fire marshal approached Jaime and shook his hand. His voice was commanding yet tempered with understanding that Jamie appreciated.

“Mister Fraser, it’s a tragedy to be sure, but we minimized the damage and found all the clues, I think. The fire was set on the north-facing side, right here.” He pointed to Runner’s wing on the barn schematic. Gasoline was used as an accelerant that was provided by your fuel tower. The perpetrator used your five-gallon buckets that were stacked at the hose in back, filled them with your fuel, and left the nozzle open to drain the fuel into the ground. When embers landed there it all went up in a fireball. You will have an ugly reminder for a while I’m afraid. It’s safe to bring the horses in except for this area. The roof caved in and it’s burned badly. It is where we found the body of a woman, but I hear you have given a statement to the police already and believe her to be responsible. The coroner has removed the body. I will be in touch as the investigation progresses. He walked toward his vehicle throwing his clipboard on the seat before getting in.

Jamie looked around feeling lost until he saw Rupert and Angus walk out of the barn with two leads each and lariats attached to their belt loops. They looked at Jamie’s haunted eyes and simply nodded as they made their way to the pastures. The horses were tied to a fence once caught so they could be identified and counted. Jason and Lulu pulled up looking shell shocked. Lulu was crying and asking about Claire. Jason ran to the barn for halters and leads and handed a lead to Lulu as they left to search for more horses.

Molly and her fiancé were next, followed by two of the vets that Claire had befriended. They would check the horses that were brought in and treat any issues. As word spread, neighbors and owners came in to join the search and by afternoon, all but two horses had been rounded up. The missing horses, Porcelain and Runner.

The horses were split up into groups and led to graze in the multiple pastures. They would stay outside for the day and let the barn air out. Jamie continued to call Claire, to say I love you and give progress reports. Jamie’s voice cracked when he said they had not found Runner or Porcelain and Claire sobbed for the lost horses but mostly for Jamie. Michael had fared better and was released to rest in his hotel room. Jamie wandered through the pastures calling for Runner until dark.

Jamie stayed with Claire overnight. She was moved out of critical care and there was a fat Lazyboy right next to the bed. He had full trust in his crew, so he stayed until she was released the next day. She mostly cried when she was awake, and Jamie couldn’t wait until he could hold her and give her comfort.

Driving into the compound was very hard on Claire as visions of Isobel taunting her, saying she would shoot Jamie in front of her and then let them die, came back to haunt her. Jamie explained that he had killed Isobel, but Claire expected her to jump out from every corner.

Claire couldn’t yell for Runner, but she insisted on walking the far pastures to help look for him. To no avail, the two of them were gone. Jamie held Claire through the night, waking up every few hours because she was crying and shaking. He eased her back to sleep much quicker than he was able to follow her. By the next day, he had deep circles under his eyes as he drove the property in search of his horses.

The other horses were returned to the barn, back in their original stalls because there was very little damage to anything but Runner’s wing. Jamie shivered to think he wanted to go back to the barn and move Runner and Porcelain back to their original stalls. He closed the wing off with plans to rebuild once the insurance was settled. Not one of the owners moved their horse to another barn. They knew Jamie was honest and ethical. This was not his fault and he had taken care of the problem.

Jamie sat down hard on his office chair in the early evening. The silence was such a relief after playing hero for the past two days. He wasn’t a hero. He was terrified about what could have happened and what will happen next. Could his business recover, could Claire feel safe again, could they find a new normal without Runner? Picking up his ringing phone he heard the deep voice of Dunsany, and he lost it.

“Jamie, it's going to be alright. You aren’t hurt, you will repair the damage and go on. Now listen to me son, get it out, and then get back to work. That’s a good lad, I’m here for ye, depend on that.”

Dunsany waited, speaking quietly to encourage Jamie, trying to infuse him with the will to start over. They talked for almost an hour and Dunsany told him arrangements had been made to bring Isobel’s body back to Scotland. She could never threaten them again. The older man worried deeply about Jamie pulling out of this nightmare and his anger at Isobel kept him secluded from his family for several days. It wasn’t right for a father to hate his own daughter and he would keep that to himself.

Jamie walked the pastures as the sun was coming up. He had a distinctive whistle that all the horses were used to. It always brought them in, no matter how far they had roamed. He heard a whinny and turned his head, heart beating like thunder in his chest he watched the pasture turning in all directions and finally saw her. Porcelain ran toward him crying out her fear in loud whinnies. She came to him and snorted while he slipped the halter on her and snapped a lead. He started walking back expecting Runner to run up on them any second. When he closed the door to Porcelain’s stall, he dropped his head in defeat.

“Where have ye gone laddie?”

Jason, Lulu, Rupert and Angus put the barn back together, ordered supplies, rented stalls, answered calls from worried owners, and assisted whoever and whatever was needed in the moment. Their fearless leader searched for Runner day and night and Claire was not often seen. She looked shattered and they didn’t know how to approach her, so they didn’t.

Michael came on the fourth day and took Claire to drive the property boundaries. Claire searched the pastures through field glasses as they continued to drive for two hours. He was just gone. He jumped a fence and just kept running she assumed. There were thousands of acres of forest that bordered their land and he was lost in that forest somewhere, starving to death. Claire’s sobbing broke Michael’s heart. He stopped the car and pulled her out to hold her to him. He promised her they would find him.

“We need to walk the land, Claire. He’s scared and hiding somewhere in the trees. Let him see us walking.” He pushed a lead in her hand, and they ducked between the white slats of the fence to walk the endless acres of Bluegrass.

Runner watched them from behind the trees. He watched her mostly and wanted to go to her. He could hear in her yell, something foreboding and fearful. If she would just get on his back, he could ride her to safety. He tried a couple of times to break out of the tree line, only to retreat in fear. They were getting closer to him. He was about to turn toward the forest and run but he saw images in his mind of Claire hugging him. It made him so happy. She was telling him she needed a hug. In the next second, he bolted toward the fence boundary and jumped it with ease running toward her, happier than he had ever been.

“Stop Claire. Turn around.”

Claire turned to see Runner galloping toward them. She started to giggle and then she held her arms out like she always did, for him to run into. He stopped ten feet from her and showed her images of being hugged. She kept her arms out and walked to him until she could wrap them around his neck. She put her hands on his cheeks and Michael could swear they were having a conversation as Runner would nicker at times and drop his head on her shoulder.

Are you hurt?

I do not hurt.

Where you afraid?

I was afraid.

She kissed his face a dozen times and asked him to walk back to the barn, assuring him the smoke was gone and he would be safe. She dug a handful of sugar cubes out of her pocket and he feasted on them.

Very hungry.

Let’s go home.

Michael called Jamie to tell him they were walking back, with Runner, and he started running to meet them. Runner nickered and lifted his head when he saw Jamie running toward them. Claire unsnapped the lead and Runner took off stopping right in front of Jamie’s beaming smile. They were still hugging when Claire and Michael caught up to them.

Porcelain whinnied loudly in the air and stomped all over her stall. Rupert looked at her and wondered what got into the lass when he saw the movement in his peripheral vision. He was almost in tears when he saw the three of them with a giant black horse behind them. Runner went to Porcelain for a make-out session and Claire could see images of Rupert pouring grain into his feeder. She laughed quietly to herself.

“Cheeky bastard.”

They said goodbye to Michael at the airport and made him promise to visit soon. Claire hugged him and cried while Michael complained she would surely melt with any more tears. Once on the road home, Claire leaned against Jamie and wrapped her arm around his middle. They had not made love since the fire and the feel of him was suddenly intoxicating. She kissed his neck until she was breathless and when she pulled his belt away and grabbed his zipper Jamie pulled onto a logging road into the forest where he pulled her to him and kissed her deeply.

They were frantic to join their hungry bodies after a long hiatus from passion. Jamie pulled her shirt over her head and reached around to unclasp her bra setting her breasts free to bounce with their efforts. When she finally pulled him into her body, they both moaned loudly before the rhythm of arousal took them to a new plane of existence.

Officer Josh Baker was heading back to the station while he daydreamed in heavy traffic. When he saw Jamie’s pickup truck veer off the road, he shook his head and blinked several times. It couldn’t be, he told himself. What are the odds of finding them in the same predicament as before? Some people never learn he thought. He pulled off onto the logging road to wait.

Traffic along the four lanes where Jamie took the detour slowed way down due to the cruiser parked along the side of the road, presumably for radar speed checking. The officer pointed his radar gun out the window and waited. When he heard Jamie’s engine start he pulled into traffic, and they were none the wiser about his protection.

Slowly, life at Highland Brothers returned to normal and Jason, the new custodian of Claire's truck, would pick her up for a day of medical treatments and do his best to remember any of the details when she asked him. On long rides she would describe the lab assays they would run to get him used to the terminology and procedure. From February to June, she would reduce her hours away to ten hours per week so she could take care of the breeding operation. She was anxious to be working with Jamie again.

Claire sat across from Nosh at the kitchen table and looked at the sheets of pictures. There had to be at least five-hundred pictures of her and runner. She answered Nosh’s questions thoughtfully and held nothing back. Nosh recovered quickly from the declaration that she can talk to animals. He always knew there was a major component of the story missing.

“I have wondered how an untrained jockey could ride that horse through all those races.”

“It was my yoga training. My balance was very good and if you hadn’t noticed, I didn’t move at all, once the race started, I just hung on to is mane for dear life. He told me what to do, when to do it, and I felt safe after a while.”

“How could he hear you during the race, there’s too much noise?”

“Are you saying you believe me?”

“You are an educated woman Claire, a veterinarian, and you won the Triple Crown as a novice jockey. I’ve been on the track all my adult life, so I knew there was a secret to your success. What I wouldn’t give for photo evidence of you racing him on foot.”

“Oh! I have photo evidence. Jamie took loads of pictures from the equipment barn where he hid for the first month. They are amateur at best, but I will be happy to show you..”

Nosh was on his feet in seconds, “please, yes I would love to see them.”

Claire settled Nosh in a chair close to the computer monitor and brought up the pictures. There was a perfect sequence of them at the starting line, Claire running full speed around the track, and Runner staying on the rail to pass her. Claire bent over panting and Runner circling her with his head and tail in the air. In the last picture, Claire is scowling at the horse with her hands in the air.

Nosh laughed so hard and sputtered “pure gold!” when he could catch a breath. “Good God, I haven’t laughed like that since I was a kid. Name your price, I’m sure the magazine will pay it.”

“Certainly not! You can have them with my thanks.”

This was the icing on the cake to Nosh. The book he had dreamed of for the last year would be better than he could have imagined.

Claire told Nosh everything from cutting Runner out of his dam to winning the Triple Crown and all the baiting and psychological tricks she used to keep him wanting to win. The story was told, and she sat back and took a deep breath.

“How would you like to spend some time with Runner?”

They walked out to the pasture and the two horses made a bee-line for them. Claire stood in front of Nosh and opened her arms for two frothy-mouthed horses to assault her with smells and snorts. She stepped aside pulling her phone out of her pocket and launching the camera app. Nosh seemed frozen as he watched Runner come toward him. Claire moved farther away and started snapping pictures. Nosh, nose to nose with Runner, the colt draping his head over Nosh’s shoulder from behind, stroking his neck, laughing at the assault on his pockets looking for treats. Claire kept snapping until she had sixty-five pictures of Nosh and Runner. She would transfer all the pictures of Runner including these to a thumb drive and send it to Nosh. It made her happy inside to give something back.

Claire walked the reporter out to his rental car and hugged him, thanking him for everything. Nosh saw no reason they might meet again so he made his words count.

“You feel like the daughter I never had. I am so proud of what you’ve done. If your actions with Runner are any indication of motherhood, I hope to live long enough to see your kids cure cancer and win the Nobel prize. Goodbye Claire, and thank you for the interview.”

Motherhood? What an odd thing to say, she decided and waved goodbye.

Claire walked back into the house feeling her mood turn dark when she looked at the ugly furniture she and Jamie had failed to replace. She wished for a happy feeling when she opened the door to their home and hated this furniture even more after the fire. A call to the Salvation Army to pick up a high-end living room set pushed her to the front of the line. They would pick it up this afternoon. When the living room was empty, she called Jamie and asked if he could finish early because there wasn’t a chair or couch to sit on anymore. They needed to visit the furniture stores in town.

Claire got dressed up with straight hair and makeup because it felt like a special trip, something to be remembered. They would finally take ownership of their space and rid the memory of the most heinous woman on earth. With only one week until Christmas, she was excited.

Jamie watched a beautiful, confident woman walk toward him when he came home. He looked at her long pretty hair, short dress, and high heels, feeling his stomach do flips.

“Yer beautiful Sassenach, and our living room is empty sure enough.”

“You have ten minutes James Fraser.”

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sherlollydramoine · 5 years ago

Text

Which Malek Twin is Better in Bed: An Experiment Part One

Had this idea that was inspired by a few different asks that I received. This is going to be in either two or three parts. Part One is the set up and Rami’s turn.

This is completely unedited so I apologize for the millions of mistakes that are probably plaguing this piece.

Warnings: alcohol use, language, and unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all)

Word Count: 5285

“No, she said that she thought that I’d be the one that was better at cunnilingus,” Sami shot back.

“No she did not. She said it would be me because ‘I’ve got a mouth made to sin’ according to her,” Rami counters with a shrug.

“We’re identical twins asshole we have the same mouth!”

“So, that doesn’t mean that we are both as equally skilled with it,” Rami counters again.

“I’m still better with my hands and dick though. You may have the oral skills but I have other skills that the ladies love. I’ve never had any complaints,” Sami adds, and Rami rolls his eyes.

“Righttttt and who almost got in trouble when I snuck Michelle in back in eleventh grade. She was definitely not being quiet and was not displeased with my performance skills,” Rami says, which elicits an eye roll from Sami this time.

“BOYS!” you holler trying to catch their attention. They’d been arguing the better part of an hour over some girl that they knew and who was better in bed all around. You were fairly certain that whoever this mystery woman was her assessment of the boys was all speculative. You’d known them for years and had never known them to share a woman, then again, you never know they didn’t share all their secrets with you.

They both turn their heads to look in your direction and you shoot them both a look. Picking up your beer off the table and bringing it your mouth you take a long pull from the bottle. Neither one of the boys dared to say a word, until after you had said whatever it was that you had to say.

“Ya know boys there is really only one way to figure out who is better in bed!”

“You aren’t going to try and call all of our exes are you? I’m no- I’m a little worried that some of the reports wouldn’t be accurate and a few of my exes aren’t exactly happy with me. I used to be kind of a dick,” Rami says suddenly, eyes wide looking mildly horrified, while Sami just lets out a short bark of laughter.

“Serve you right for being a dick bro. I’m sure my exes would have nothing but praise for my exemplary skills in the bedroom.”

“As amusing as that would be to contact all of your exes, there is another way to settle this debate once and for all. You both are going to have to find a woman that would be willing to sleep with both of you, separately of course, and get her feedback,” you suggest.

Rami’s brows nearly shoot into his hairline while Sami just lets out another bark of laughter.

“I’m sure Mr. Hollywood here can have no problem finding available pussy but I don’t like the idea of it being some random person.” Sami casually mentions in between sips of his rum and coke.

“Yeah, honestly, I don’t really like the idea of fucking some random chick that only knows me as ‘that famous guy from the robot show’. I’d rather it be someone we know that can give an unbiased opinion. If we went the route of me picking someone up I might win by default just because she got to fuck some famous guy,” Rami states.

“Ram since when have you ever had an issue finding some random pussy to fuck? Everyone knows you are a total fucking player. Besides Mr. Hollywood, you can walk into any bar or restaurant and the pussy will literally find you,” Sami says. Rami just frowns and flips his brother the bird while you try not to choke on your beer.

“Boys! Just stop. As highly entertained as I am by this conversation I think you guys are missing the point. There has got to be some woman on this planet that doesn’t know who you are Rami. Someone that would be willing to experiment,” you start to explain. Stopping for a moment to gather your thoughts and take another sip of your beer when an idea strikes you. Neither of the boys have piped up or offered any other alternative solution so you decide to go ahead and voice your idea.

“Rami you work in Hollywood. Hollywood is known for its lascivious nature, so surely you know someone that knows something about high class escorts. Sure, they are expensive but don’t they get paid a small fortune to buy their silence as well as providing you with a warm wet hole to fuck? Make some phone calls and then explain to her what you want to do. If she agrees, no matter the cost you can have her take notes and then compare them after she has had her turn with both of you.”

“NO!” Both boys shouted in unison with horrified expressions on their faces. The sudden raucous of the raised voices caused a few nearby patrons to look your way out of curiosity.

“Damn boys sorry. It was just a thought. This might be a tougher solution than I thought when I suggested it.”

“So back to square one, who would be the perfect person to do this? I just. It’s kind of nerve wracking though because I don’t want to screw up any relationships with any of our friends. Clearly choosing someone from our pool of mutual friends is probably the best option. They wouldn’t tell anyone about this peculiar situation if they wanted to maintain our friendship.” Sami adds.

For the first time in over an hour silence descends on the table while both boys look deep in thought. Suddenly their heads snap up and they look at each other and nod. Before you know what hit you you had four blue-green eyes staring at you.

“What?” you ask nervously, picking up your beer again to take another sip.

“YN! Come on, you’d be the perfect person to do this. You wouldn’t let something like this interfere with our friendship and you would give us your honest feedback. You wouldn’t lie to either one of us just to inflate our egos.” Rami says, looking hopeful.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea boys. I mean. I’m just. Look at me. I-I-I can, can I think about this?”

“I want to say yes you can, but babe I’m leaving after this next weekend and I’ll be gone for a little over a month. This is kind of a time is of the essence thing,” Rami states with a shrug.

“I’m gonna need something stronger than this,” you mumble, pushing your chair away from the table and heading towards the bar.

Once you were back at your table you began taking large sips of whatever cocktail that the bartender had whipped up for you, as you contemplated what to do. Three cocktails and a bunch of awkward conversation later you looked up at both of them and croaked out, “I’ll do it!”

Both boys grinned their same beautiful smiles as they high-fived each other and you raised a brow.

“I'm cumming over Saturday!” Sami exclaimed and then giggled. “I mean, I’m coming over Saturday!” he giggled again, and his brother just shot him a look while you shook your head.

“Wow! I didn’t realize you were so eager to get to fuck me Sam!” You laugh as you avert your gaze. You send up a silent prayer that you won’t end up regretting agreeing to do this.

“YN what’s your schedule like this week? The weekend won’t work for me because I’m leaving Sunday night so I’ll have to come over sometime during the week. Sami is all yours Saturday and then Sunday morning we can all meet up and you can compare your notes and finally settle the debate about which Malek twin is better in bed.”

“As it were, I’m in between gigs right now so I’m free the whole week so just let me know what time and day work best for you Rami and we’ll meet up. I think it’s best if you come to mine so that way there are no sabotages or interruptions,” you inform him shooting Sami, a look who is just sitting there with a devilish grin on his face.

After a few more drinks the three of you decide to call it a night and the boys drop you off at home where you couldn't help but feel a little drunkenly excited for the coming week. It had been far too long since you’d had any kind of intimate relations with anyone and you were definitely looking forward to getting dicked twice in one week. Of course the twins didn’t know that you’d had the biggest crush on Rami since you were like seven after he’d beat up the boy that was harassing you on the playground. You chuckle at the memory of Rami getting into trouble for fighting.

Your dreams that night were definitely very vivid and extremely pornorgraphic and now you were headed into the new week with the thoughts of that dream floating around your head. You’d sell your soul to make it happen. The thoughts of both of them kneeling on either side of you on your bed jerking themselves off on you, and covering your breasts, stomach and thighs with their cum was enough to make you start salivating and your panties wet.

On Tuesday Rami sent you a text asking if you wanted to meet for dinner later, and you’d agreed. The restaurant he told you that you were going to was definitely the type of place that you’d never have been able to afford on your own but Rami reassured you that it was his treat. His turn to wine and dine you. This is it. It was Rami’s night to show you what he could do in the sack, the dinner was just an excuse for the two of you to talk and become a little more relaxed before you got down to business.

You took your time to prepare for the evening. You’d splurged on a manicure, pedicure and a bikini wax. You weren’t sure of Rami’s preferences for body hair but you felt good. Choosing your favorite red dress from the closet and pulling it on, glancing at yourself in the mirror you smile. You looked damn good. Just as you were swiping your lipstick on you heard the doorbell; sliding your feet into your black pumps that he had gifted you two years ago, you head to the door.

Grabbing your black clutch from the table in your entryway, you swing the door open. Rami was dressed in a nice suit complete with black tie, holding a small bouquet of your favorite flowers.. You can feel his eyes rake up and down your body and he lets out a low whistle.

“You look amazing,” he smiles at you, as he hands you the bouquet. You invited him in for a moment after he reassured you the car wasn’t going anywhere, so that you can go put the flowers in a vase. He followed you into the kitchen, the nervousness rolling off of him in waves. At this point you have no idea who was more nervous about the events of this evening.

“Same could be said for you Malek.”

“Oh this thing. I’ve had it in my closet for ages but haven’t worn it yet,” he rambles nervously.

You get the flowers unwrapped and into the vase full of water and then letting out a soft sigh you turn to him and ask,”Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” was his response. He casually grabs your hand as you make your way back to the door. You turn to lock the door and he puts his hand on your waist as he leads you to the fancy black car that was waiting at the end of your driveway. He opens the door for you and confidently says, “Ladies first.”

You giggle and slide into the car. He follows a few seconds later and then slams the door closed. He looks over at you and takes your left hand into his right one and gives it a soft squeeze.

“So?” you ask.

“So” he responds with a smile.

“Are you-excited for tonight?”

“YN, honestly, it’s all I’ve thought about since Saturday night. I-I-I hope this doesn’t make things awkward because I’m really good at doing that, but I- I - I’m excited. I know that you haven’t been with anyone in a while and so it’s going to be such a pleasure for me to show you what I can do, but also have some fun,” he says, nervously scratching the back of his head with his left hand. He gives your hand another squeeze but you couldn’t help the smile that was slowly spreading across your face.

“Honestly Ram, it’s all I’ve thought about too. I-I-uh- had a dream about this on Saturday night.”

He lets out a nervous chuckle, “I hope I can live up to your dream expectations.”

“I'm more than positive that you will Rami, so don’t be nervous. We can’t both be nervous or we’ll just freak each other out and then this whole thing will have been for nothing.”

You catch his eyes and you both laugh, his hand never leaving yours.

Dinner went by way too quickly as you chatted away happily, ate the best meal you’ve ever had, and imbibed several glasses of champagne that Rami insisted on. He joked that this was a celebration of sorts though you couldn’t figure out exactly what. You just figured the champagne was mostly for the nerves.

The two of you had previously discussed him staying the night in the event that one or both of you got a little intoxicated at dinner and it didn’t make sense for him to have a car on standby. You also didn’t think it was fair to have the car waiting because neither of you were aware of how long you would otherwise be indisposed.

In the car on the way back you sat in the middle this time, with your head resting on his shoulder, while his right hand held your left one firmly, his thumb gently stroking the soft skin of your hand. Neither of you were conversing just content to be in silence mostly due to nerves. The closer that the car got to pulling up to your house the tension in the air became palpable. Both of you let out a shaky breath as the car came to a stop in front of your place. The butterflies in your stomach had you feeling oddly restless and you were squirming in your seat while Rami’s left leg was bouncing restlessly. Despite all the nerves you were also plagued with arousal. You’d had a crush on him for so long that getting a chance to finally get to find out exactly what he is like in bed is a dream come true for you, though you’d never admit it out loud.

As he had earlier at the restaurant, he got out first this time holding a small overnight bag in one hand, as he held out one hand for you. You take the offered hand and slowly slide out of the car. Once you were fully out of the car he wrapped his right arm around your waist and walked with you to the door. Your trembling hands were a dead giveaway to the jitters you were experiencing, as you reached into your clutch to retrieve your house keys. In your frazzled state you’d accidentally dropped them twice, and Rami just lets out a soft chuckle, bends down to pick up your keys and unlocks the door for you. Stepping through the threshold you let out a breath and unthinkingly kick your shoes off by the door and he follows suit, dropping his bag next to his shoes. Your back turned to him so that you could shut and lock the door, he removes his jacket and haphazardly tosses it over his bag not caring that the expensive fabric will be terribly wrinkled in the morning. Turning back around you catch sight of his beautiful hands working his tie loose and carelessly tossing it on top of his jacket.

Angling your body towards his reaching up to touch his face and then thinking better of it dropping your hand back to your side you open your mouth and barely manage to squeak out,“Soooo.. How do-”

Shock barely registering as your words were suddenly cut off by his lips on yours.This is it. The first kiss ever between the two of you and it was soft and hesitant, nearly awkward as if you were teenagers again; it wasn’t until your hands came up to interlock at the back of his head that he deepened the kiss and you nearly faint in his arms as you moan against his mouth. You blame the champagne for the boldness of both your actions, even though you knew it was going to come to this point eventually. Maybe in this case it was like ripping off a band aid the sooner someone initiated the encounter, the easier it will be to go through with it.

When you finally pulled away from each other both of you were damn near breathless, chests heaving, hair mussed, and pupils blown wide with lust. You both just stand in front of each other for a couple of seconds before instinct took over for both of you and your lips crashed together again. All traces of nerves gone from either of you now as your bodies nearly melted together. You both don’t realize that you’d begun moving, stopping only when your backside came in contact with the back of the couch.

Your whole body felt as if it had been lit on fire and the ache in your core was becoming increasingly unbearable in such an embarrassingly short amount of time. You could feel his arousal pressing against your stomach and all you wanted at that moment was for him to rip your dress off and fuck you senseless. All of your dreams and fantasies could never compare to the reality of actually being intimate with one of your best friends, the one you’d had a crush on for so long.

“Bed?” he asks breathily, as he smiles at you, his lips swollen lips and a delicious shade of red.

You nod in response and without warning you find yourself being lifted into his arms and carried down the hall to the master bedroom. He carries you across the threshold and gently sets you down not hesitating at all as he brings your faces back together reigniting whatever passion had been latent for the few moments that it had taken for him to carry you down the hallway.

You couldn’t help but to feel like he is savoring every moment of this because nothing about this moment is feeling rushed. Your mouths collide again. The passion behind his kisses feels so sincere that you almost allow yourself to feel like this was meant to be, but only allowing that to be a fleeting thought when you remember he is an actor. An award winning, highly skilled actor. This situation was only happening because you’d drunkenly agreed to settle some debate between him and his brother.

Shivering against his touch as his hands slide their way down your shoulders until his fingers come in contact with the zipper on the back of your dress. Begrudgingly pulling your mouth away from his beautifully swollen mouth, God his lips, you could spend eternity kissing those damn lips. It’s almost as if your body is acting purely on instinct because you never realize the moment that your hands glide up his arms, across his shoulders, and then down his chest. Your fingers trembling and struggling with the buttons of his dress shirt. Huffing a little in frustration wanting nothing more than to rip the damn thing to shreds.

His fingers had finished working the zipper down your back and you couldn’t help but to watch the fabric as it fell into a red pool at your feet. He lets out a quiet gasp as he realizes that you are standing before him completely bare. Releasing another huff as you continue to struggle with the buttons of his shirt,he lets out a soft chuckle.

“Let me,” he says, his voice breaking the quiet of the room as he gently pries yours hands away from his shirt. You watch in fascination as his fingers work the buttons of his dress shirt open at lightning speed, you couldn’t help but to wonder what else those hands were capable of. Then again, that was that the whole point of this right? For each of the boys to prove to you just how well rounded their bedroom skills are. The second the last button is open, you damn near go feral and roughly push the fabric off his shoulders. The material stops moving as it is caught at his wrists and you couldn’t stop watching as he pulls his arms the rest of the way out of the sleeves. You just tosses the shirt, as it flutters to the ground, landing at your feet and on top of the red material of your dress.

You bring your eyes back up to his and for a second you feel shy, exposed. The dress you’d been wearing didn’t allow for underwear and you didn’t see any point since you knew that this is how the night was going to end anyway.

You unconsciously begin to cover your chest with your arms when you feel his hands come down and gently remove them.

“Don’t hide from me YN. You are so beautiful, don’t ever hide from me,” he says so lovingly that you almost burst into tears. It had been a long time since anyone had ever called you beautiful.

You can feel his fingers ghost down your sides leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake when his hands settle on your hips. Rami slowly pulls you towards him as he raises his right hand to brush away a stray bit of hair away from your face. His eyes search yours for a quick moment before his lips find yours once again. You could kiss him forever, his mouth was made for it.

Lifting your hands from where they’d be resting down at your sides, you put your hands on his hips and give a little tug bringing your bodies as close together as humanly possible without being intimately connected. Without thinking you skim your hand along his hip bone to the front of his crotch and begin to palm him through his dress pants eliciting a deep moan from him that was so sinful you nearly came undone.

The two of you slowly start dancing your way across the floor of your room towards your bed with lips locked, not stopping until the back of your knees made contact with the edge of your mattress.

You groan in protest when he pulls his mouth away from yours and you frown slightly.

“Lay down for me,” he quietly instructed and there was absolutely no hesitation in your willingness to comply. You weren’t sure what he was going to do, but you were nearly panting in eager anticipation.

His body slides its way up yours as his mouth starts nipping, kissing, and sucking every inch of skin from your jaw to your navel. Feeling his eyes on your face watching your chest heave as your body writhes against his seeking friction. Your eyes widen in shock as you feel his fingers ghost themselves over your center.

"Oh my God babe you are completely soaked for me and I’ve barely touched you," he says voice tinged with shock

You can't help the smile that forms as you watch his face disappear between your thighs. Your hips nearly buck off the bed and a noise that you’ve never made before escapes your lips, when you feel his tongue flick your clit, at the same time that he slides a few fingers into your soaking center. His free hand comes up to rest on your hip, in an attempt to keep your hips still.

“OH GOD” you cry out, and your hands acting on their own accord come down to fist in his curls. You can feel him smirk against you as he hums in delight with the way you’ve been so responsive to his touch in such a short time.

His fingers pump in out of you in time with the movements of your tongue, and you can feel that familiar feeling beginning low in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes screw tightly shut, your body warm and coated with a light sheen of sweat, your chest heaving, and you are babbling a bunch of incoherent nonsense. Unbeknownst to you, your grip tightens exponentially in Rami’s hair and despite the pain radiating through his scalp he never relents.

“Don’t stop Rami. Don’t stop,” you whine and plead.

With another flick of his tongue in combination with the ‘come hither’ motion that his fingers, your legs begin trembling and you're whining out his name. Suddenly that warm feeling spreads from your stomach outward and your body begins to convulse, your thighs snap shut around his head and you can’t stop yourself from grinding into his face. You’d never felt anything like this before, but you are content to ride out this wave of pleasure on Rami’s face.

“Oh God… Oh God.. Oh God…Rami” you moan, repeating it like a mantra.

You can hear him mumbling something against your core and you can feel his tongue lapping at your juices. After what feels like an eternity the convulsing in your body stops and your thighs and body relax. You feel high. You’ve never had anyone make you feel like this and it makes you wonder if your suppressed feelings for him is the culprit for this.

Propping yourself up on your elbows you can see his chin is glistening with your juices as he smiles down at you. Weakly attempting to sit up to pull him towards you. This moment that you’ve been so nervous for all night however he just uses his hands to push you back down into the mattress, gently yet firmly.

You can hear the jangle of his belt buckle coming undone followed by a soft ‘thunk’ as his belt and pants hit the hardwood floor.

“Oh Rami,” you whisper so quietly that you don’t think he heard you. His eyes snap up and lock with yours seconds before his naked body slides its way up yours. His lips capture yours for a soft, sweet kiss and you can taste yourself on his lips as you wrap your arms around his neck trying to coax him to deepen the kiss. The nerves are back,your heart is thundering in your chest, and you aren’t sure what his next move is going to be.

Extracting his lips from yours, he asks if you are ready, both of you take a shaky breath as you make eye contact with him and whisper,”Yes”

His forehead rests against yours for a moment, as you breathe each other in. He lets out a little gasp when you bring your legs up and wrap them around his hips, your sensitive center rubbing against him almost playfully. Your body is in desperate need of something now, something to dull the ache your feel, so you reach down to grab a hold of him. He beats you to it by taking himself in hand and after taking another deep breath he slowly guides himself into you.

You let out a breathy moan as the warm sensation of being filled so completely overwhelms your senses. His eyes are screwed tightly shut, and his breath has hitched. Neither of you move for several seconds just simply basking in the pleasure of being so intimately connected for the first time. It’s a feeling that you only get once with someone.

The moment both of you regain some semblance of control of your breathing his hips begin to move. This was better than any fantasy or dream you’ve ever had. He is in no hurry to finish and you don’t mind, every slow thrust of his hips brings about a new batch of sensations. At some point your fingers had intertwined with his as he kept his hips moving at a slow, but steady pace.

Both of you were breathing heavily, your bodies glistening with sweat. His eyes catch yours as you breathily moan out his name, and you feel as if you are in heaven. He doesn’t make any attempt to increase the pace he’s set.

“Oh Rami... “ you mumble. His forehead comes down to rest on yours, and you lift your chin to place some small kisses to his lips.

“Baby you feel so good,” he whispers into your lips. The intimacy of this moment causes a whole new set of feelings to bubble their way to the surface and you couldn’t help the small tear that rolls down your cheek. You don’t think he noticed as you rock your hips with his.

As slow as the pace that he’d set is, it still didn’t stop his cock from hitting all of the right place inside of you, and after twenty minutes you can feel it building. You know he can sense it because he starts to slightly alter the rhythm of his hips as they move in time with yours.

“Fly with me baby.” he whispers in your ear only moments before your second orgasm of the night washes over you. With your sweaty chests heaving, legs trembling again, and your walls clenching around him it does indeed feel as if you were flying, like your soul has left your body and you were now on some transcendental plane of existence.

You can feel his body tense above yours and his breathing change as he follows you into orgasmic bliss, emptying himself deep within you, as you clench around him. Neither of you say anything but the gentle whispers of each other's names over and over until he collapses on top of you in a sweaty heap. You untangle your fingers from his and bring your hands up to run your fingers through his hair.

In the blissful moments afterwards you realize something and it hits you hard. He is the first man that you’ve ever had sex with that has given you an orgasm. You couldn't help the tears that begin leaking from your eyes on their own accord,

“Oh baby, please tell me that it wasn’t that bad?”he questions, soundly slightly alarmed.

“No-no-no Rami, it’s not that. That was. Oh my God, that was the most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced. It’s just that. I’ve never had a sexual partner give me an orgasm before, and you’ve given me two in an hour. I’m sorry”

You both hiss when he pulls himself out of you and rolls his body so that he is situated at your side. He pulls you into his arms and gently strokes your hair.

“I’m honored. I love,” he hesitates for a second before continuing,”being able to give my partner an orgasm.”

“Oh Rami- you are-God you are amazing.”

Neither of you spoke again that night. Only sweet kisses and a lot of cuddling until you both fall into a deep sleep feeling completely sated and happy; a tangle of limbs.

( P A R T T W O )

@xmxisxforxmaybe @free-rami @ramimedley @r-ahh-mi @diasimar @txmel @stewielover95 @safinsscar @ladyr0b0t @youthtea @ramisgirl512 @mrhoemazzello @hissom1933 @spacedustmazzello @sassystrawberryk @ramimalekpan @breadnbutternips @itslula1991 @warmommy @imnottiredofgettingoveryou @alottanothing @mezzomercury @theultraviolencefan @the-real-ramimalekpeen @hazeleyedbeth @w0lfglrl17 @adoremalek @rawmemalek @lunasasylum @zodiyack @sasha--1996 @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @anotheronebitesthedick @petites-fantasies

#Rami Malek #Rami Malek Smut #Rami Malek Imagine #Sami Malek #The Challenge

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bubble-booty-valkyrie · 5 years ago

Note

So Emerald, I heard that your plan to get Broly to fuck you is by annoying him till he snaps and takes all his frustrations out on your fat ass. How did that work out for you?

One thing was for certain, Emerald had never worked so hard to get a stud in her life, but could you really blame her when Nora had described every jaw dropping detail about how he fucked her unconscious in just an hour? Every slut in this damn school was trying to find a way into his pants!

But this chocolate slut had a plan, and it was fool proof! Every single day she would make sure to rub agains him in the halls so he could feel every one of her best assets, whenever she could she would ‘accidentally’ drop something right in front of the massive mountain of muscle, bending at the waist to oh so slowly let her mini skirt raise up passed the curve of her massive, jiggly, cocoa colored cheeks and thong, giving him the perfect view of her ass that she knew would drive him crazy~

It didn’t stop there either, she would make sure to follow him to the gym each morning to practice all of her best moves exactly in his line of sight~ From stretching, to squats, to yoga, and of course, blasting music through her earphones and twerking her fat ass like she was getting paid to do it~! Emerald knew when she was getting to someone, and he had all the tells of a man holding himself back, right down to some very sext growls under his breath, and always looking just a bit meaner when she pulled off something extra slutty for him.

What the bubble booty slut never really noticed, however, was the way his eyes would shine a soft gold whenever she really got on his nerves.

Everything was going as planned, but Emerald was never really a patient slut, a patient thief yes, but she couldn’t hold herself back if it meant she was gonna get fucked by such a handsome stud. So at lunch time, Emerald made her move.

Broly sat down at the cafeteria table with a silent scowl while eating his meal, the many plates of food filling the entire table just to feed the massive beast of a young man. He was really starting to get annoyed with all the scantily clad women constantly getting in the way of him and his training, the long nights of waking up to a knock at his dorm room door just to find some women practically drooling while dressed in nothing but lingerie was getting old.

Broly was a red blooded, young, sexually active man. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what they wanted. And one of them had been going above and beyond to put her body in his face every chance she got. She had dark skin and green hair, and she had a butt so big that he couldn’t help but wonder where she got pants to fit her. Though, considering she barely wears anything but shorts that look like thongs and skirts that definitely couldn’t hide her ass, maybe she didn’t find clothes that fit her.

It didn’t matter, not when the only thing on his mind for the last week had been that thicc, round, jiggly ass she had. And that annoyed him to no end. He couldn’t train when all he was doing was imagining using her slutty body like he did Nora on the first day, the sounds she’d make when he finally-

“You don’t mind if I sit here, right~?” Emerald cut off the warriors thought as she cooed into his ear, plopping her massive, squishy, warm, cushy ass right into his lap like she belonged there, leaning back into his torso with her legs crossed. She was small, very small compared to him, maybe not like Neo or Nora, but she barely reached the man’s perfect pecks. With a little wiggle of her ass, Emerald got comfortable, loving the masculine scent of the massive man all around her, feeling his muscle tense and move like steel wires all coiled together. “A big guy like you, I bet you can’t even feel little ol’ me~”

With a smug grin, the dark-skinned beauty reached forward and plucked a piece of bacon off the man’s plate and gave it a nibble, slowly, sensually, firmly grinding and rubbing her massive bubble butt side to side in his lap. And holy shit, it felt like she was sitting on a wooden log~! Squished right between her cheeks, so close to her needy holes was her prize, and it was fucking huge~! She could feel every single throb and vein through his pants as she slowly built a rhythm up, hotdogging the massive beastly man through his clothes as he sat ramrod straight.

Emerald knew she finally had the man where she wanted him, he didn’t make a single noise as his cock grew even harder, practically doubling in size from his half hard state, and the chocolate slut could feel her own panties getting wet as it felt like if he got any harder he would lift her off his lap with his cock alone~! Gods, he was so fucking huge~!!

“What’s the matter Broly~? What’s this giant thing poking my butt~?” Emerald teased, leaning forward against the table so he could look down at her absolutely juicy, thicc, plump ass wiggling in his lap around his clothes covered cock. Maybe he wasn’t as in control as Nora said, either way, she was gonna get this cock inside her ass, today~! Eagerly twerking her ass up and down in his lap to really drive home why she was sitting there. “Already so hard~? Am I too much for y-”

Emerald stopped the moment she looked over her shoulder at the massive, silent, seething stud, her grin falling from her face as the man looked at her with a cold anger that was both chilling and hot as fuck at the same time. She noticed that his eyes changed color, something she didn’t know was something he could do, and, uh, did he look bigger..?

As his hair slowly grew a little wilder, his shoulders broadening, his muscles growing more and more pronounced, Emerald realized that she never actually knew what the massive man’s semblance was, but from the looks of things, she was about to find out.

It was only the sound of the man’s chair straining to hold his new mass that Emerald realized that the clothes covered cock in his pants had kept growing passed what she thought Nora had described, his usually baggy pants now strained from the massive, thick, scary spire tenting his pants and pressing hard between her cheeks. Emerald loved when men got angry with her, but even she had to admit that a furious Broly was something a bit more frightening then she thought it’d be.

Suddenly Emerald felt a lot more small and vulnerable when the man had seemingly stopped growing, his deep, masculine grunts and breaths showing just how hard he was holding himself back, even if his golden eyes showed off his animalistic needs.

“U-Um, sorry, maybe I got a bit carried awa-AH!” Emerald was trying to remove herself from the clearly angry man’s lap when she suddenly found herself bent over the cafeteria table with a giant hand pushing her face down against the surface, the massive mitt grabbing the back of her head and forcing her face down and her massive jiggly ass up high. It all happened so suddenly, quicker then she thought such a huge guy could move, the way he got up so fast that his seat was sent flying to the ground behind him as he stood up to his new massive height, a full head and shoulders taller then the already absolutely massive man usually was. A height that Emerald realized wasn’t just taller, but bigger in every way, including the man’s hot, thick, steel hard cock. “O-Okay, I’m sorry, I was just trying to have some fun~!”

The stud only replied with a deep, animalistic snarl as he eyed her massive, round, twin globes of wobbly chocolate ass with searing golden eyes. If this fucking slut wanted to get fucked so bad, the slut that was known around school to even him as a pain loving anal whore, who was he to deny her such a request? With another snarl, Broly ripped the chocolate beauties panties and skirt off her body like tissue paper, throwing the ripped cloth in some random direction before reaching down to pull his own absolutely massive, throbbing, musky, veiny, wrist thick, actually steaming hot fuckstick free from his pants to slap it down against Emerald ass, laying across her juicy ass and halfway up her lower back, sawing that pillar of meat between her cheeks with a vicious grin.

“H-Hold on, w-will that even fit~?! M-Maybe you should w-wait until I can warm u-up a little~?” Emerald was well known around beacon as a painslut who never backed down from a challenge, but his cock was fucking massive!! It felt like he just laid a baseball bat between her asscheeks!

Lifting her up onto her hands and knees onto the table to get the perfect angle, Broly put that absolutely massive, fat, broad, battering-ram tip of his precum dripping cock against her far too tiny, pre-lubed, tight, clenched little pucker that clearly wasn’t big enough to fit the man without some substantial force.

But clearly, that’s all that Broly had, pressing the tip of his absolutely monolithic pillar of meat against her little asshole with a snarl while the chocolate buttslut wiggled, thrashed, and squealed in pleasure and pain from the feeling of being stretched beyond belief.

Clearly the two forgot that they were in public as a solid second of silence filled the room before a loud, slutty, desperate squeal of pleasure crashed thoughout the dining hall when Broly suddenly got tired of waiting and slammed his hips forward to stuff half his cock inside the tiny slut’s even tinier hole, grabbing her perfect breeding hips even for his size for even better leverage while he yanked and pushed her as deep into her as he could, grunting and gritting his teeth as he fought to fill the little buttslut’s chocolate booty.

“AAAAAHHHHHHH~!!!!!” Tears flowed down Emerald’s face as she broke out into the sluttiest, most broken expression the school had ever seen her in, her eyes crossed, her tongue hanging out, droll dripping down her chin. And Emerald only got louder as Broly FORCED the rest of his absolutely giant cock into her asshole, his hips smacking against her voluptuous, slutty, thicc, jiggly chocolate ass with a ripple and a clap, his heavy sack slapping against her femcum dripping pussy.

Broly didn’t care to let her get used to the feeling, too filled with rage and lust to care about anything else besides ruining the hole he stuffed his cock into as he yanked his slick cock out and slammed it back in just as fast, creating an absolutely blistering fast, brutal tempo that filled the whole hall with loud clapping of his hips against Emerald ass, only drowned out by her loud screams and squeals.

Every thrust made the entire hardwood table rock and bounce, sending glass and plates falling to the floor with a loud crash each time, a pool of femcum and precum forming underneath Emerald’s poor, abused asshole on the dining table. Phones and cameras were pulled out to record every second by the gathered crowd, every single second of Emerald brutal, fast, absolutely animalistic anal pounding by the absolutely MASSIVE man behind her.

Every single long, thick, hard, steaming hot, throbbing inch of Broly’s massive fuckstick scraped and pounded into Emerald’s favorite hole harder and farther then she’d ever been fucked before, his massive, rough, strong hands mauling and groping her massive globe of squishy bubble butt before giving it a nice harsh smack, making her squeal just a little louder for a second. Every second felt like an hour as the green haired buttslut clawed and gripped the hardwood table for dear life, her entire body rocking and shaking with every firm thrust from behind.

“D-Daddy~!! Yesh~!! F-Fuck me more, Daddy~!!” Emerald had never been fucked so hard in her life, her fat cheeks stretched and squished around the man’s shaft as it disappeared and claimed her asshole as his personal fuckhole~! Her world was rocking and she couldn’t even see straight, the loud banging of the table filling her ears before she was suddenly yanked off the man’s cock and thrown over onto her back, too weak to even lift her head as she stared straight up at the ceiling.

“W-Wha~?” She started, before her world was filled with nothing but the cut figure of the young man who still wanted to use her poor, tiny abused asshole. She could feel him grab her juicy thighs and lifting her knees up so her legs were next to her head before getting into position and SLAMMING his cock back into her hole, putting the little broken slut into the deepest, hardest, most brutal mating press she had ever had.

The man slammed his hips up and down like a jackhammer, slamming his pillar down into her asshole over and over again with grunts and snarls that of a breeding animal, his muscles tensing as he used every ounce of strength he had to fuck the little chocolate slut into the table.

Emerald couldn’t even remember her name at this point, just licking and kissing the man’s muscles every time he slammed into her like she was madly in love with him, not caring in the slightest that she was nothing but a glorified fuck toy for the massive stud.

And apparently, Broly thought so too, lifting up the tiny women and flipping her around to hook his arms under her legs and really use her like a fleshlight, bouncing and jerking her body up and down his dick like a cocksleeve made just for his dick.

“AAAAAHHHH~!!! YESH~!!!” Emerald was seeing stars, barely able to keep herself from cumming over, and over, and over again, squirting all all over herself with every particularly hard thrust from the young man, the whole school could hear the absolute wrecking Emerald’s asshole was getting from the wanted stud.

This went on for hours, the young man constantly moving the chocolate beauty’s body into every slutty position he wanted, using her her for his own pleasure without a single care for her well being, and finally he put Emerald back to her first position on the tablewanting to see that fat ass jiggle and bounce in his lap again as he got ever closer to his finish. And he was close.

People had been staring on in shock for the solid hours he was using the women, skipping class to watch the absolutely obscene show that no one had ever witnessed before, recording and even self indulging as the women was used by the massive beast that was Broly. And he wasn’t done just yet as he grabbed a nice handful of the women’s green hair to yank back as he began fucking her even harder then before, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she screamed and squealed herself horse.

Grunting, snarling, and even shouting in pleasure and anger, Broly started slamming into her even faster before finally letting loose his practically boiling hot cum into Emerald asshole, his cum shooting out around his shaft as he let out a loud, masculine snarl of anger and pleasure. Each thick, stringy, gooey shot of cum shot deep into Emerald abused hole, making her already sore voice come out for a final time before she finally fell unconscious her body going limp on Broly’s cock as she passed out onto the broken table.

With a harsh tug, Broly yanked his cock free of her gaping hole, a fountain of cum pouring out onto the floor as he admired his work with an almost malicious grin. But with a sigh, he went back to his usual neutral expression, not even looking at the shocked crowd of people as he gathered his things and went on his way, wondering when combat class was starting now that he was late for everything else.

Emerald was still face down on the messy, broken table, unoncsious with her gaping asshole pouring out cum onto the floor, team Rwby and the other girls staring in shock with cold food on their plates, not sure if they should go take a shower together considering they all came in their panties a few times.

148 notes · View notes

marril96 · 5 years ago

Text

The Distance Between Us

Chapter 29: Close Encounters

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: Rowena encounters a blast from her past.

WARNING: slurs.

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian

*****

The atmosphere with Dean Winchester's absence was strange, or so Rowena thought. After all, she'd only been acquainted with the group for a short while. Though, she could tell, despite everyone's efforts to act as if nothing was wrong, something clearly was.

They missed him.

You missed him.

You acted as if you didn't, but Rowena saw right through you. You were angry at him for being mean to her. You resented him for it. Maybe you even thought you hated him. But, underneath it all, you missed him.

The day after he'd walked away Rowena had taken you aside, swallowed up her her pride, and apologized.

As much as she wanted to deny it, she felt guilty. Your friend group had functioned for years without an issue. Then she came along, and one of you had walked away.

He was a petty bastard, but Rowena didn't — couldn't — blame him for disliking her.

With her history, she wouldn't trust herself, either.

She'd made her bed, she supposed. Now she had to lie in it.

She'd spent years hanging around bad people, working alongside them, acting as one of them. She'd joined in on bullying, despicable as she'd found it. She'd gossiped and lied and destroyed without a care in the world.

Consequences were a bitch.

"It's not your fault," you'd told her, and she could tell you were honest. "You didn't do anything wrong. Dean's an asshole."

He was.

Then again, she had basically invaded his territory, his safe place.

It was only natural he felt threatened.

Days went on, and your assurance remained.

Rowena hadn't done anything wrong.

You really loved her. She didn't know how it happened or why, but somehow she'd managed to get you to fall in love with her, and you were in deep.

In public, you always clung to her. Either your hand held hers, fingers in a tight knot, or your arm was thrown around her. A sign, loud and clear, that she was yours and yours only.

When you were alone, you couldn't stop kissing her. Her lips, cheeks, or knuckles; whichever part of her was nearest, you pressed your lips to it. A silent, wordless confession of love.

Rowena basked in it all. She drank in the attention, chased it like a high.

Gilroy had never loved her like this.

Lucifer hadn't even tried.

She was an impossibly lucky girl.

"See you after school?" you asked as the bell rang to sign the end of lunch.

"Shall we go to Wonderland?" Rowena suggested. As fun as hanging out with your friends — her friends, something she still couldn't wrap her head around — at Biggerson's for the past week was, she wanted some quiet. A wee bit of alone time. Just the two of you; no people to stare, no siblings to interrupt.

"Sure!"

You flashed her a smile, and, before she could reciprocate, your lips were on hers in a swift, soft kiss.

Another thing she liked about you — you were always gentle with her. You never grabbed her, never pulled her in for a kiss forcefully. When you held her, you were loving, careful. Your kisses were tender, and you showered her with them whenever you could.

Rowena had never had that before.

She'd never been… loved.

"Sucks that we don't have any classes together today," you said with a pout.

It was ridiculously cute, not that Rowena would ever say it out loud.

Instead, she said, "I know. However will you survive?"

You lightly slapped her hand, prompting her to put on a pout of her own that she could tell made you melt. You weren't one to say it out loud, either, but your face was clear enough. There wasn't much, in terms of emotion, that you could hide from her.

"You tease, but I'm really having a hard time being away from you," you said. "You're sorta addictive."

"Maybe it's a good thing we're apart, then. You don't want to overdose."

"Says who?"

You kissed her again, longer this time. You tasted like heaven, like love and warmth and everything she ever wanted but never had until now. Rowena melted into the sensation. She wanted to stay like this forever; with you, your hands gently holding on to her shoulders, your warmth spilling into her, consuming her, embracing her.

"In that case," she said as you parted, mouth tingling where yours touched it, nerves on fire, "I shall look for you during the next break. Mustn't let you to suffer withdrawals."

"That's more like it! See ya!"

You squeezed her hand in emphasis, then ran into the retreating crowd. Rowena remained in her place, still as a statue. She looked after you, at your back that disappeared in the sea of students rushing to get back to class. Her hand was on fire; it pulsated as if a heart were beating underneath it, your touch still lingering, a ghost on her skin.

You were hers.

Her friend.

Her lover.

Her girl.

It still felt like a dream, as if she would wake up anytime now and find herself laying beside Lucifer, body blooming with bruises, tear-smeared mascara staining her face.

No!

This was real.

You were real.

She swore on her life, on her damned, rotten soul, to never do anything to lose you.

*****

Everything went as planned. The two of you met up for every break, talking a bit, complaining about the boring classes and unfair teachers.

It felt nice.

It felt normal.

Normal was something Rowena hadn't had in a while. Olivette usually badmouthed one person or another. Lucifer joined in, made jokes that weren't funny and laughed at them, all the while keeping a firm arm around Rowena, as if someone would steal her if he were to remove it.

Rowena used to think it was sweet. He was just being protective. A tad too much, perhaps, but it was all for her good. He was just showing her off, showing the world that he had her and they didn't. A lover straight out of a historical romance novel; possessive, but in a way that was romantic rather than disgusting.

Right.

Rowena wanted to laugh at her stupidity.

Lucifer never loved her; she doubted he was even capable of the emotion.

He most likely never even liked her.

She was excellent in bed. She let him use and abuse her, and gave him whatever he wanted without a single word of protest. He didn't even have to ask.

He saw a chance, and he took it.

He took advantage.

And she let him.

She stupidly let him.

All because she wanted what he had.

Well, fuck popularity, she thought. It had brought her nothing but trouble.

She'd been surrounded by people, yet she was alone.

She'd had a boyfriend, yet she wasn't loved, wasn't cherished and cared for.

She'd had nothing.

All the power she'd thought she had was borrowed.

It was never hers.

Nothing was.

Until you.

Rowena replayed that thought as she trudged through the crowd of students. It was the recess before the last period; five minutes before another — thankfully final — boring hour. History. She loved the subject, but she loved you more.

She couldn't wait for the final bell to ring so the two of you could make yourselves at home at Wonderland and put the school day behind you.

The relationship was still fresh. Still new and bright and shiny, and Rowena didn't want to waste a minute of it.

After so many hardships, she was finally happy.

She wanted nothing but to make the best of it.

"Where you going, Red?"

The voice stood out amongst the noise of the crowd like a nail running over the chalkboard, squeaky and loud and nauseating.

Rowena froze, limbs falling still as a statue. As if her flesh had suddenly turned to marble. A knot formed in her stomach; it twisted tightly, almost made her double over in pain.

No.

She kept her head up. Kept it high up and proud. The picture of strength.

He didn't get to make her submit.

He didn't get to have that much power — any power — over her.

She wasn't his plaything anymore.

Lucifer stood before her like he used to so many times before. The smile she used to find so lovely, that now made her want to vomit, was wide and bright on his mouth. He was still handsome, still good-looking, but, looking at him now, he didn't stand out much.

He was a boy, just like any other in this school.

Nothing special, really.

Just a boy who thought too much of himself and too little of others.

Rowena swallowed a lump that had formed at the back of her throat. A blink, and she was back in his room; his hands were on her neck, his fists rained down on her face, his heavy-soled feet rammed into her ribs. His face was in hers, and his words were daggers ripping into her, tearing her apart from the inside out.

Punch.

Kick.

Scream.

Rinse and repeat.

"Move," she spat, willing herself back to reality. Squeezing her fists tight to anchor herself.

It was in the past.

What he'd done to her, how he'd hurt her — it was all in the past.

Her wounds had healed. She had new friends. She had a girlfriend that gave a damn about her, who loved her for who she was. Who wasn't going to take advantage of her when she was at her weakest.

The memories still hurt, but they were just that — memories.

They weren't real.

Not anymore.

Lucifer ignored her. "I hear you've got a girlfriend," he said smugly.

Rowena wished she could wipe that bloody smile with her fist — or the thin, sharp heel of her shoe. Who hasn't? she thought. The entire damn school knew about the two of you.

Word traveled fast here.

Especially if you happened to be a redeemed mean girl.

Gossipers loved a good redemption story!

"It's none of your bloody business!" she snapped. He may have been playing nice, but she was way past that point. The devilish smile couldn't charm her anymore.

Lucifer put his hands up. "Relax. I come in peace."

Rowena snorted. He wouldn't know peace if it slapped him in the face.

"I'm just curious about your new… relationship."

Curious, my arse!

He'd come to harass, to bully, to hurt.

Rowena wasn't born yesterday. She knew him; she knew his kind, knew how they operated, how they ticked. There was never a just with them.

They always had an ulterior motive.

"Y/N good to you?"

The question was as smug as his smile. Rhetorical, but she couldn't resist replying, "Much better than you."

If it bothered him, he didn't show it. Instead, he pressed a hand to his heart dramatically. "Ouch. You wound me, babe."

"I am not your babe."

Not anymore.

Never again.

"Moved on quite quickly, haven't you?"

It wasn't quite as easy, but he didn't need to know that. "What can I say? Some people are more forgettable than others."

If only she could forget him.

If only she could erase all he'd put her through — the abuse, the manipulation — from her brain.

"Right. Is that why you look so scared?" She gulped as he said it, swallowed a breath. Lucifer chuckled. "I bet you still dream about me."

She'd had a nightmare or two; nothing she couldn't handle. They were long behind her. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Oh, but I know you, Rowena," Lucifer said, so damn sure of himself. "I know you still think about me."

"You know nothing!" she snapped.

"Still a firecracker, I see. That's my girl!"

"I am not your girl!" She was offended by the mere suggestion.

"You'll always be my girl," he said. "What we had doesn't just go away."

Och, it did.

It went away the second she turned her back on him and ran into your arms.

There was no more Rowena and Lucifer. No more power-couple. All that remained of them were memories; awful, painful, regretful.

"I bet she doesn't do it as well as I do," Lucifer said. "She doesn't have the means."

Rowena wanted to laugh. That was where he was going? Seriously? "Goodness, you really are pathetic!"

"Am I? Or are you just projecting? We both know the V has nothing on the D."

Laughter exploded from her mouth. "Darling, your D has nothing on a cheap dildo."

Not quite true, but the remark did its job. Lucifer narrowed his eyes, mouth tight, forehead vein popping. "You're a whore."

Was that the best he could come up with?

"All that talk about friendship, when in reality, you were fucking her behind my back." He stepped forward. Got in her face. His warm breath on her skin made bile rise up to her throat.

The last time he was this close, he had hit her. He had hit her and beat her and marked her for days — weeks — to come.

That was then, Rowena reminder herself. This was now. He wouldn't dare pull anything like that in front of so many people. He was quite a traditional boy, in that regard. All closed doors and a nice boy facade. Mustn't let the neighbors see.

Didn't make her feel any better. Didn't make the fear in her bones, cold as the snow-coated streets outside, fade away.

He may not have been able to do anything physically, but he still had his second best weapon — his tongue, sharp enough to hurt, to main, to rip apart.

"I wish I was," Rowena said, holding her ground. Her hands balled into fists, knuckles taut, sheet-white. Her conscience was clear; she was a lot of things, but a cheater was not one of them. "Maybe I would have realized what rubbish you are sooner."

"Takes one to know one, babe," Lucifer said with a shrug because of course he did. What else would he say?

Rowena wasn't one to back away from a challenge. "Is that why you still believe I cheated? Projection is a hell of a drug."

"That was different." Of course it was. "I loved you."

She snorted. "I doubt you even know what the word means."

"Okay, you got me there," he said, the corners of his mouth curling into a smirk. "So I didn't love you. Can you blame me? I mean, look at you. Who in their right mind could love… that?"

Rowena swallowed. Once. Twice. Three times. He was a colossal bastard, but she couldn't deny the truth in his words. Who could love someone like her? Someone so cold, so dead inside, walking through the world with an iron mask on her face?

Who would dare love someone like that?

You.

You did.

You dared to try, and you grew fond of her.

You fell in love with her.

The first person in… how long was it?

The first person ever.

Maybe that was her fault. She hadn't exactly made it easy for people to get close to her. She pretended and lied and pushed away anyone who dared step too close.

She wasn't the easiest person to love.

Impossible, almost.

But, she knew with her entire being, from the depths of her soul, she didn't deserve what Lucifer had done to her. She didn't deserve to be cheated on and abused. She didn't deserve to be betrayed.

The relationship they'd had was toxic from the start, but the blame wasn't solely on her.

"Still, what we had was special," Lucifer added. "You can't deny that."

Rowena certainly thought it was special.

At the time.

She knew better now.

That relationship had potential for greatness, but it never got to blossom.

"It was a waste of a year of my life," she said, urging — pleading — her voice to remain steady, not to break under the pressure.

"You say that like you could've done better. We both know that's not true. I made you, Rowena."

As if she hadn't heard that one before. It still hurt as much as the first time. She grit her teeth. "Is this the part where you say you can ruin me? At least do me a courtesy of being original, will you? Because this is getting tedious."

"Oh, I can do more than that." His voice was slick as poison. Deadly to the core. Shivers spilled down her spine. "You don't get to ruin my life and get away with it."

Another fit of laughter escaped her mouth. "I ruined your life?"

He had some nerve to even suggest that.

He'd hurt her so much, and somehow — by some insane troll logic — she was the one at fault?

"You almost killed me!" she snapped.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic!"

"Dramatic? I could barely walk! It took me weeks to heal!"

"And whose fault was that?" he retorted. "If you weren't running around with that dyke behind my back, ruining my reputation, none of that would've been necessary!"

Necessary?

That was his excuse — he'd beaten her within an inch of her life because it was necessary?

He stepped forwards. She backed away. He kept going, kept advancing on her until her back slammed into the wall. Hig big, massive body towered over her. He pressed his hands to the wall on either side of her, trapping her, caging her like an animal.

Rowena's heart raced. Panic shot through her, flooded her veins, sent her nerves into overdrive. He wouldn't hit her. Right? Not here. Not now. He wouldn't dare.

Only, he totally would.

He was Lucifer Shurley. Charming. Charismatic. Popular. The principal's son.

Rules didn't apply to boys like him.

"Get away from me!" Rowena found it in her to bark.

He ignored her. "I see you're still at it. I won't let you get away with it. You don't get to throw me away for a nobody."

Yet, that was exactly what she did.

Happily so. Proudly.

And she would do it again in a heartbeat.

"Fuck you!" she told him, looking him straight in the eyes. She tried to push him away, only for him to smack her hands away. A small girl like her was no match for a giant like him.

"You're adorable," he said condescendingly.

She wanted to spit in his face.

She was about to, when a familiar, unexpected voice said, "What's going on here?"

Dean Winchester, in the flesh. Looking like he wanted to punch something (or someone). His usual mode.

Rowena met his eyes in a silent, wordless plea. Get him away, her glance said. Please. Pathetic, but what else did she have left? She couldn't get rid of Lucifer on her own. Couldn't free herself. Couldn't do anything other than feign strength that had left her the moment he blocked her way.

She hoped with everything she had that Dean understood.

If he was here to gloat, to throw more accusations…

"Just old lovers having a nice, little chit-chat," Lucifer said, the charming, thousand-watt smile back on his mouth.

Dean wasn't fooled. "Really? And she's okay with that?"

"Why wouldn't she be?"

Lucifer hand brushed against the top of her head in a caress.

Rowena flinched.

"You okay with that, Rowena?"

She shook her head.

That was enough for Dean. He took a step forward, menacing, face serious as death. "Right. How about you step away?"

Lucifer immediately put his hands up in surrender. "Wow, wow, okay! Chill, dude. No need to be so serious. We were just talking. Honest."

Rowena scurried away, putting as much distance between them as possible. Dean stepped in front of her. He was tall, looming, a protective statue she felt strangely safe with. She didn't trust him — she didn't like him, and the feeling was very mutual — but she knew he wouldn't hurt her. That wasn't his way.

She'd heard stories about him. He went through girls like laundry. Bedded everything female with a pulse that gave him the time of the day. Stole hearts and broke them all the same.

They all had one thing in common — he respected the girls he'd been with. Not a single one had a complaint about his behavior. Those he didn't sleep with held him in high regard, thought him one of the good jocks.

Dean Winchester was a lot of things, but he respected girls.

He wouldn't let something happen to Rowena, no matter how much he hated her.

Or so she liked to think.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Aye," she replied. Shaken up, but she'd had worse.

"She doesn't wanna talk to you," he said.

"It was kinda a one sided conversation," Lucifer conceded. "A monologue, really. For the most part. But it was fun! I swear."

"I told you to leave me alone," Rowena said. "You're not supposed to be talking to me."

He wasn't supposed to be anywhere near her.

That was the arrangement her mother had made with the principal.

Rowena had declined to press charges for the abuse, and her mother had made it clear that, if Lucifer were to come anywhere near her daughter, those charges would be filed. Rowena had readily agreed to that arrangement. She didn't want to deal with the police and the court; all she'd wanted was to forget, to move on, to heal and start anew. To get away from it all for she was still reeling from the revelations she'd been given and it was too much — way too much — and too soon.

"You gonna tell your mommy on me?" Lucifer said in a childish voice.

"I will send you to bloody prison!" Rowena snarled.

A few heads turned amidst the rush to classes, the bell seconds from ringing. She glared at each and every one of them, urging them to run away. She wasn't in the mood for another public drama.

"Ooh, I'm terrified," Lucifer taunted.

"Why don't you take a hike?" Dean said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Come on, man! That's harsh!" Lucifer whined at the same time as the bell sounded. "On second thought, you're right. I should get going." He grinned, then winked at Rowena. "See ya later, Red. This isn't over."

She let out a long, hard breath she'd been holding as he walked away.

As far as she was concerned, it was over. She had no intentions of talking to him again. If he were to pull the same stunt, she was ready to make good on her mother's threat.

Lucifer Shurley had no business being anywhere near her personal space.

She didn't want him there.

She wasn't interested in his stories or his little threats.

He was her past, a history as tragic and awful as any other.

It wouldn't be repeated.

Never again.

"You sure you're okay?" Dean asked, shaking her to reality. She looked up to find his eyes on her; looking her over, scanning every inch of her. Concern was etched into his stern face, imprinted in his skin like a permanent tattoo.

Was he genuinely worried?

Or was this part of his good boy reputation?

"Aye," Rowena said again. "He didn't do anything."

He nodded, relieved.

"Rowena! Hey — what's going on?"

You were suddenly there, emerging from a crowd with a book in your arms. You stared at her, then at Dean, suspicion crawling over your face like a shadow.

A rush of relief swept over Rowena at your presence.

Things were okay.

She was okay.

Everything was okay now that you were here.

Her lips widened into a smile. Yours returned it, albeit nervously, confused.

"Yes, I was just—" Rowena started to explain, only to be cut off by Dean.

"Lucifer was here."

You blinked. "Lucifer?" The implication dawned on you. "Oh, my god! Are you okay?"

"I am," Rowena assured you, taking your hands — warm, loving — into hers. Your fingers squeezed as if your life depended on it. "He was just being Lucifer. Talking nonsense."

"Did he hurt you?" Your tone made it clear he would regret it if he did.

Rowena didn't doubt it. She shook her head. "No. He just talked. Made threats. The usual."

"What kind of threats?"

She sighed. "He said this isn't over."

"The hell it isn't! We should go to the principal right now."

"And tell him what? That his son was mean to me?" She scoffed. "Let it go. It's not worth it."

Your expression softened. "He doesn't get to do that to you."

Goodness, you loved her! You loved her so much. She could see it in your face, could hear it in the softness of your words.

What did she do to deserve that?

What did she do to deserve you?

"If he does it again, I will report, okay?" Rowena suggested.

"Fine," you conceded. "So long as you're okay."

"I am. I promise." She pecked you on the mouth to prove it, earning her a big, happy grin. "I'm not made of glass, Y/N."

"I know," you told her. "But, as your girlfriend, it's my duty to look after you."

"Shall I start paying you to guard me?" she teased.

You chuckled. "Totally. I should start charging my bodyguard services."

"Hey," Dean said, breaking the banter. "I wanna say I'm sorry."

You scowled, not quite buying it. "Are you?"

"Yeah." It was just one word, but there was so much sincerity in it. So much genuine regret. "I shouldn't have said the things I said."

"You were a dick."

"I know."

"Out of line."

"I know." He swallowed. "Rowena, I was wrong about you. I'm sorry."

Rowena nodded, offering a smile. He'd been a colossal numbnut, but she understood his suspicions. If someone had told her she would join your group of friends and abandon hers a couple of months ago, she would have laughed in their face.

Her redemption, so to speak, was fast. The others had adjusted quickly, but it was only natural Dean needed some time.

Granted, he could have handled it better. However, his apology seemed sincere, genuine.

If everyone could give her a chance, she didn't see why she couldn't give him one.

"I don't wanna hear anymore bullshit," you said firmly.

Dean nodded. "No more bullshit."

"Okay." You flashed him a smile, a big, bright one.

He reciprocated. A moment passed in silence, then he said, "I think we're all late to class."

Honestly, class was the last thing on Rowena's mind at the moment.

You seemed to share the sentiment. "Wanna cut?" you asked her.

"Naughty girl," she said with a wink. "I don't see why not."

It was the last class of the day, anyway.

The sooner the two of you got to Wonderland, the better.

"You guys have fun," Dean said.

"You're staying?" you asked, quirking up an eyebrow, disbelieving.

"I cut yesterday. And the day before." He grinned proudly. "Gotta stay a few times, right?"

You chuckled. "Enjoy."

"You know me. I love school."

Right.

Same way as Rowena loved her former friends. And knock-off shoes. And pork rinds.

The three of you said your goodbyes, and then you and her were out the door.

Hand in hand, headed for Wonderland.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @shadowgirl-vsb @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @gaysnakess @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @ruthieconnells @evil-regal-vampiress @collectorofsecretsandsouls @angel-e-v-a @tasyahilker @a-queen-and-her-throne @carryon-doctor-lock

#rowena #rowena macleod #spn #supernatural #spn family #rowena x reader #lucifer #dean winchester #my fics #fanfiction #high school au

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nightowlfandom · 5 years ago

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Yandere/Crazy !Kim Namjoon- Body Heat ( Part 1)

REQUEST FROM PROMPT LIST- RIGHT HERE! (I write for anime too!)

No announcements here! If you’ve requested, I probably have it I have three taehyung imagines, two namjoon, one yoongi, One Levi imagine, one Shuu Sakamaki imagine, two bakugou imagines, and a Todoroki and a few others scattered here and there. Please be patient with me. Like I got a lot so ima need like at least a good week.

ALSO...If i get a request that sounds a bit too similar to something I’ve done before, I don’t know if I’ll do it.

Plus I have a bad cold....sooo I can’t post a lot because I’m bedridden. You know how it goes.

Leggo!

...

“Excuse me.”

You looked up from your your notebook to see a guy staring back down at you. You hadn’t noticed him until he had gotten your attention with his deep voice.

This stranger was mysterious and had distant air about him. His eyes pierced yours with an intimidating stare. He was the focal point of multiple women who seemingly glared at you at the same time. It was almost like they were wondering what made you so special.

“Yes?” your voice wavered. “Can I help you?”

“I couldn’t help but notice that as I walked by, you didn’t seem to happy.” he spoke. “I was wondering if everything was alright.”

You raised an eyebrow as he spoke. Why had he been looking at you in the first place? Was he some sort of creep or something?

“I’m fine.” you stared back down at your notebook, staring at the blank new page. You had just wanted to be alone and didn’t feel like putting up with someone right now. Especially not when you were trying to write.

“Hm, from the way you slammed down your phone, it didn’t look that way” he chuckled, pulling out a chair and sitting in front of you. Greaaat.

“Listen dude I-” you looked up, finally getting a clear view of his face. Now that you did a double take and didn’t half-ass everywhere you looked. It was like he changed your mind with only a single glance and nothing else. “Was is really that obvious?”

“Very.” he chuckled.

“....Bad ending, super messy, it’s...stupid.” you looked up at him. (What is it with you guys and wanting break up stories....are y’all ight?)

“Hm, well moping around over your third cup of coffee isn’t any way to act.” he chuckled.

“You’re probably right.” you replied sheepishly, ignoring the fact that he ad been watching you close enough to realize how much caffeine you took.. “My name’s Y/N...”

“Y/N, what a beautiful name. My name is Namjoon.” he winked.

You were interested, what had made him want to talk to you?

“Forgive me for being so bold, but...would you perhaps like to go on a date with me. There’s this restaurant nearby that I have the feeling you would just love.”

“Me? You’re asking me on a date? We just met.”

“I believe so and why not, it can’t be that bad.” he chuckled. “What do you say?”

“I don’t know...what if you’re a kidnapper?” you raised an eyebrow.

‘I wouldn’t try to do it in broad daylight now would I?” he winked.

“.Hm, fair enough...Sure.” you replied. “Yeah, that would be cool.” you replied, how bad could it have been?

...

Over the next few weeks Namjoon had taken you out, on date everywhere. It was surprising. It was like he knew your favorite places, locations, and things inside and out. It was like he somehow had managed to follow you, and witness and observe your every move, the things you liked to eat, to the things you enjoyed doing. It felt like he knew you in and out without getting through the awkward phase of just sucking it up and approaching you first.

“Hey, Namjoon?” you asked, looking up from your plate. “Can I ask you a question.”

“Of course.”

“...How do you know so much about me?” you asked, not believing yourself. “No one knows as much as you do...it’s...strange.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He asked, smirking, even though he was uneasy. He didn’t really want to reveal that how exactly he knew the exact brand of orange juice you liked to buy. He would look crazy.

“..No..it’s just nice to not have to explain myself all the time to someone. You understand me and that’s all I want. I never got it...but now I have.” you smiled at Namjoon. “And..uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh?” Namjoon chuckled. “Have I taken your sweet words away, Y/N?”

“I don’t know.” you stammered. “I think I know that guy.” you pointed to the door. You got a good view of his face. “I definitely know that guy.”

You recognized that face anywhere and you weren’t happy to see him in the slighted. Namjoon followed your gaze and felt his fist clench by itself. So he had been the issue. The problem. The nuisance he had been waiting to take care of.

“Hm well as long as he doesn’t interrupt us, then I have no reason to-” he began, but stopped himself just in time. No, he couldn’t reveal his plans just yet...not now.

“Do you think...I could move over to sit with you?...Just to calm my nerves?” you asked innocently.

Namjoon let out a low growl, just quiet enough so you couldn’t hear. You shouldn’t say things like it, it drove him crazy. To ask to be able to breathe in your scent so up close, it was the best gift he could ask for. “Yeah...come on.”

You instantly scurried over and sat next to Namjoon at the little booth table. You automatically felt your nerves calm. You absentmindedly rested your head on his shoulder.

“I don’t know if you remember but that relationship I said ended badly....it was a lot worse than you might think.” you groaned. “...You’re very warm Namjoon.” you mumbled.

“Hm.” he chuckled. “I’m glad my temperature makes you comfortable, but you should finish eating. It will ease your nerves.”

“Your body heat is enough.” you sighed. “I could fall asleep right here.”

“Yo is that Y/N with some guy?” you suddenly heard.

Well fuck...

“Hey, if you just keep looking at me and ignore him, you’ll be fine.” Namjoon whispered in your ear. “Jay can’t bother you if you don’t let him.”

“You’re probably ri-”...hold on a second.

You looked up at Namjoon with a shocked face. You stared long enough to grab his attention and tilt his head to the side. “What’s up?”

“...I never said his name was Jay...” you trailed off. “H-how did yo-”

“Y/N!” the familiar voice which sounded like nails on a chalkboard shouted, making you look at him.

“Well what do we have here.” he glared down at you. “Whose the asshole?”

“Look in a mirror and you’ll find out.” Namjoon said calmly, tapping his fingers on the table as if he was bored. “Was there something you needed?”

“You better tell your little boyfriend to watch his mouth.” Jay spat, crossing his arms.

“Jay, could you just leave me alone?” you sighed. “I don’t have the time to-” you stopped as Namjoon scooted to stand up from the other side of the booth. “Namj- W-what are you doing?”

“Don’t mind me.” Namjoon waved you off.

“Hm, even your new boyfriend wants nothing to do with you.” Jay laughed loudly.

“You know what Jay you can just go f-” You stopped talking as you watched Namjoon stand behind Jay. “Fuck...yourself?” You couldn’t even find it in you to form proper words. What exactly had he been planning?

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“I don’t have to repeat myself.” you stood up. “Bye now.” you went to walk past him. Jay put his hand on your shoulder and almost shoved you back, making you sit back down. (you guys must be real masochists because damn...no shade to the requester lol)

Namjoon didn’t need to see another second. He tapped Jay’s shoulder, making him turn around.

“What the fuck do you w-” Namjoon rammed his fist right against Jay’s nose, sending him flying to the ground. As Jay fell, Namjoon knelt down.

“I will kill you...and I won’t hesitate to burn your body alive if I ever see your face again.” Namjoon chuckled like a mad man. “Then I’ll feed my sweet little Y/N your dismembered body in a soup or stew...I hear she enjoys curry as well and I’d love to see her enjoy parts of your kidney, or better yet I’ll lock you in my basement and keep you as a trophy while you wished I killed you...Have I made myself clear?”

Namjoon rose to his feet and walked over to you. “Come Y/N, this place has lowered my mood.”

....

“Namjoon.” you began. “Thank you...for saving me back there.” you said shyly. “I didn’t mean to get you involved.”

You were standing on your doorstep, staring down at your feet. You didn’t want to look up at Namjoon. You had felt too embarrassed to even face him.

“Hm, it sickened me seeing that disgusting unless piece of gutter trash even try to touch you, Y/N.” Namjoon sighed. The through of you possibly being hurt by that mongrel, was enough to send his emotions through the roof.

“Still, I shouldn’t have let him bother me that much. It wasn’t...I -” you tried to find the words to say. “Thank you...is what I mean to say.”

“I’ll always be there to defend you, my little dove.” he winked. “Your pretty little head deserves to be protected and...loved.” his face formed an expression you couldn’t read. “Kept away from the horrible people who plague your life...I have a mind to never leave your side..”

“...H-how did you know...about Jay?” you asked.

Namjoon froze. Fuck! What was he gonna say, he couldn’t reveal all his tricks, at least not now. “I-I...”

“Did you go to school with him or something?”

“Something like that” he shook his head. You could tell he wanted to let the subject go. So you dropped it. Namjoon slipped his fingertips under your chin. Your face under the glare of the street lights made your face glow. “Can I....”

“Yes.” you replied quickly. Namjoon didn’t need any more words. He leaned down and kissed your lips softly.

You had tasted sweeter than he could ever imagine. The feeling of your lips against his was intoxicating. It had been even better than he imagined. His hand tangled in your hair, your hands were clinging onto his jacket collar. All the event from earlier seemed to vanish, all that mattered was Namjoon’s arms snaking around your waist, pulling you closer.

He forced himself to pull away, he didn’t want to but you both needed to breathe. “You gonna invite me in or what?” he smirked. Oh gee this was happening now.

You opened the door and Namjoon took the lead. As soon as you closed the door, his hot mouth had crash over yours again.

It was almost as if he knew the outline of your house by heart. He knew that there was a little ledge before you hand to take of your shoes, he knew there was a wall he had to pass by, he even knew about the little sliding door separating the living room and bedroom.

Namjoon trapped you against the wall, both his hands on either side of your body. You leaned back up to meet his lips again, making him shrug his jacket off. His arms tightened around your waist and so many thoughts ran through his head. He had picked you up while your wrapped your legs around his waist.

No, he couldn’t be rough, not yet. He couldn’t test your limits, break you, bend you. He didn’t even know if you enjoyed pain yet. He knew he had chosen well, oh yes...he had chosen the perfect match.

An innocent, bright light that he could cast a shadow over and morph. He could trap your heart in a little cage to keep as his own. Your innocence, his. Your heart, his. Your smile, his.

You....his.

(This is gonna get crazy before it gets happy lol)

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beautcous · 4 years ago

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Thread 01 (Halloween)

Halloween was a day Sydney absolutely enjoyed, not just because she had more clients demanding her services for their costumes but also because she loved the festivities that came with it. When she heard that this festival would be this year’s Stonehill celebration it was safe to say her excitement grew tenfold. She had just finished carving her pumpkin and was about to go search for her friends who were all scattered around the beach when she heard a group of girls let out such piercing screams which she was sure effectively shattered her ear drums. Sydney looked around to see what the commotion was all about but she didn’t see much only seeing a rather large crowd gather around a tall figure. A figure she was too far to recognize until she began walking closer in the direction of where the crowd was gathered.

By now she was about a few feet away when she realized the cause of the commotion, or rather who. Out of all the people she would have expected, she did not expect Ezra Meyer to make himself known at the event. The brunette could feel her heart rate pick up just a bit at the sight of him in the flesh, she’d only ever seen him on screens and magazines. She really wanted to go over to where he was and seeing him up close but the crowd surround him discouraged her. Any other time, she would have approached him but given what he had happened two weeks when her tweet going viral and then it being discovered and read aloud by the actor on television stopped her from going anywhere near him. Of course, there was chance he didn’t even remember it or her, after all the man probably got millions of thirst tweets from women all around. Or at least she had hoped he wouldn’t recognize her. Before she could make up her mind, she felt a figure ram right into causing a gasp to leave her lips. It was when she looked up did she see a drunken male stumbling and Sydney caught him before he fell over her.

The man snapped out of his daze a moment later when his eyes landed on Sydney and a rather creepy smile appeared on his face. His eyes raking over her small frame in what best could be described as a leer. Sydney rolled her eyes, stepping back when the man finally stood up right and she was about to walk away when the man took a hold of her arm. “Where you going honey? Stay and keep me company, it’s not everyday I bump into a pretty face like yours.” Her brows rose but she shot the man a annoyed look as she attempted to free her arm. Did he honestly think that would work? “Not interested.” She told him flatly, who did not know how to take a hint. “Come on, don’t be like that. I can show you a good time.” The man then stepped closer, his hand around her tightening a bit that had her wince at the grip. “Didn’t you hear me, I’m no interested, let me go or you’ll have a pissed off boyfriend to deal with. Pointedly looking at her male friend who was not too far but had not seen her yet, but that did nothing to deter this asshole.

It was a rather normal activity for Ezra; signing autographs for his adoring fans. He didn’t see the point in whining about it, not when the fans was the reason why he had such a successful career. They made him rich, and he couldn’t be happier to be in this situation. One thing he wished he didn’t have to deal with was the screaming. He never understood why some people would get so excited over another human being. That had never been him. He liked the band Red Hot Chill Peppers, and yet, would anyone ever see him screaming for them like a deranged lunatic? Hell no. That was just lame and he had too much pride to do something so ridiculous. Did he think he was above others in this aspect, no. Only because he believed that people should be free to express themselves. He wasn’t going to be a part of the pack though. Then again, that might be why he was who he was.

Ezra didn’t just stumble into wealth and fame. He’d been doing this ever since he was an infant. He started with baby commercials. You know, like in Gerber. Except he did it for a very popular brand of Formula. Then, as he aged, he started in on acting. The parts kept rolling in, and for the longest time he was being casted as a teenager, staring and co-staring in a bunch of teen rom-coms. He could blame that on his baby face. It was both a blessing and a curse. Once he reached the age of twenty-eight however, he pressed his manager into giving him more adult roles. That was when he was given the staring role in a Sci-Fi Trilogy. After just one movie, his popularity soared. Not that he wasn’t known before, he just got way more popular now. He would admit that his popularity came with a lot of clauses however. For example; it seemed like he couldn’t go anywhere without being recognized now. Everywhere he went, people knew him. It got so bad that he had to start wearing baseball caps and hoodies if he didn’t want the attention.

After what felt like hours of signing autographs and smiling while the fans took photos with him, he was finally done. His cheeks hurt–from all that smiling–and he was beyond exhausted. As he stepped down from the makeshift stage, intending to make his way back to his car with the two bodyguards that were in charge of his care; he heard a commotion, or rather a woman’s voice trying to ward someone away. Feeling the draw to see what was going on, he made his way over there–security pushing the throngs of adoring fans out of his way. What he saw, had him reacting before anyone could stop him. Grabbing the clearly drunken male by the collar, he moved him aside and said, “She said, she’s not interested, or are you hard of hearing?” His brows furrowed as he glared at the intoxicated man;–judging by the stench of alcohol permeating from his pore–after which the bodyguards took him away. Ezra then put his attention on the lithe brunette, who’s face seemed all too familiar. Where had he seen her before? He wondered, yet instead of dwelling on the matter, he chose to focus on whether or not she had been hurt. “Are you okay, Miss? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” He spoke to her gently, not wanting to scare her even further.

Sydney recalled the very first time she’d see him on television and she had no idea what it was but she could feel this pull towards him. Why such was the case, she had no clue. Since then on, the brunette had followed all of his work tuning in each time his show was on and then to the various other projects he had accomplished in his career. Perhaps her most favorite thing to watch was his on screen interviews, and she had to admit the man definitely had a good sense of humor. Sydney had no clue what it was about Ezra that was so riveting but she couldn’t deny her curiously or her intrigue towards the actor. Of course, there was also the fact that he was perhaps the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Unfortunately, any nerve she may have gathered to approach him now went right out the window thanks to the embarrassing tweet she had posted. There was absolutely no way she’d risk him knowing who she was, she supposed it didn’t matter since she had decided against meeting him anyway. Disappointment pooling in her stomach but she quickly squashed it as she began hunting down her friends.

She had only taken a few steps when a drunken idiot stopped her path and came onto her quite aggressively and for a moment a spike of fear washed through her. Normally, she knew how to handle men who didn’t know how to take no for an answer. This bastard was about twice her size and had her arm in an iron grip that each she attempted to tug it loose, his hand only tightened in response causing her to wince at the pressure. Her empty threat that her boyfriend was around had done nothing to deter the man who leered down at her. Sydney then attempted to shove him with her free arm but he barely budged and just as his arm was about to snake around her waist, she saw a hand grab the bastard off her and freeing her arm. She hoped she didn’t look as scared as she had felt in those brief moments but her racing heart didn’t slow because it was then she finally caught the face of her savior. Ezra Meyer. She had to fight to keep the shock off her features but she supposed her fear was doing an excellent job of masking her shock. It took her a few seconds to finally get her brain to work as she realized she was just staring at him while he inquired about her well-being.

Thanks to the incident moments before, it seemed to place her fear of being recognized behind her more so when he stared at her only with concern. Hearing the gentleness in his voice did ease her earlier fear a bit, and she nodded. “I’m fine. A little bruise but nothing that won’t heal.” She said her hand covering the red finger prints the man’s grip had left. Sydney then cleared her throat and gave the actor a small grateful smile, “I can’t thank you enough for showing up when you did. I owe you one, can I buy you a drink or something?” She paused then, realizing how that sounded, “I’m not hitting on you by the way..” Feeling need to add that bit in case he got the wrong idea.

Ezra had never done this; went out of his way to help someone in distress. Not that he was a selfish individual. It just never happened to him before. Now that he was standing before the lithe woman, who’s face still looked all too familiar, he couldn’t help but feel a draw to her. He couldn’t pinpoint where he’d met her before, yet he knew that he’d seen that beautiful face. Her features were distinctive; from those full ruby red lips, cute nose, eyelashes that went on forever, right down to her dark thick brows; he swore he’d seen all of that before. She couldn’t be someone who was loose of morals, the types who would sleep with celebrities, could she? Again, not that he did that often, though he did have his weak moments. What man in their right mind could resist a beautiful woman anyway? No one. Unless they were not into women, which he totally was. He plundered into the recesses of his mind, trying his best to find out if he could remember her face, but it was no use. He had nothing. Just as well. He obviously didn’t need the answer that badly. Otherwise he would have recognized her by now.

He’d just about to forget about it when she spoke. She was saying that she was fine, but judging by how fast she made the remark, he doubted that she truly was. “You sure?” He asked, needing for some reason that was unknown to him to make sure that she was indeed truly alright. “No need to thank me,” he shook his head, a friendly smile appearing on his features for her, “I would’ve done this for anyone.” Really? Nah, he didn’t think so. She just so happened to be lucky that he was around–with a security team. He didn’t regret it however. There was also the added bonus that she was beautiful. Okay, when he initially helped her, he wasn’t checking her out. He was doing what he should be doing, which was be a good Samaritan. Her beauty was simply an added bonus. “You don’t have to buy me a drink.” He added. It was her next statement that made him realize who he was talking to. “You’re her! That girl on twitter…” The words trailed off as he thought about the tweet of him that had gone viral. He didn’t remember what she said word for word, but it definitely had a lot to do with her undying love for him. “–So you have a crush on me, huh?” He queried, his hues dancing with mirth. “I don’t blame you. I’d have a crush on me too, if I were you…” And just because he was feeling playful, he shot the brunette a wink.

Out of all the people she could have imagined coming to her rescue, never did she think it would be Ezra. But then again she supposed she never imagined she’d even run into actor so maybe today was just a strange a day. If Sydney thought Ezra was beautiful on the screen then he was even more breathtaking in real life. As she stood watching him get rid of the creep who had grabbed her, her green hues studied his sharp features, her heart pounding from her incident withe the drunk man and now because she stood just about a feet or so away from the man she admired so much. Perhaps that was putting it too lightly, no, she was a devoted follower of the actor because it was not a big leap to assume that Sydney was absolutely bewitched by him. She realized just how pathetic her thoughts were regarding this man considering she barely knew him, but it still didn’t stop the thoughts that formed in her mind towards Ezra. There was something so compelling about the man that did nothing to ease her affection for the man.

So, despite her reassurance she still heard him confirm if indeed she was fine, Sydney dropped her hand and nodded. “Yes, really, thanks to you.” She told him sincerely just as she heard his next remark which had a smile curve her ruby red lips, her eyes alight and she didn’t know why but that comment pleased her quite a lot. “My hero.” She remarked jokingly, of course, hoping she wouldn’t say something so stupid in her nervousness. The make-up artist was really good with poker face which is why she hoped her nervousness at his mere presence wasn’t so evident on her features. Her relief of him not knowing was short-lived. It was his next words that shocked her a bit, green eyes widening slightly when Ezra had indeed recognized her from her tweet. It was perhaps that moment that Sydney wished the ground would open and swallow her whole. Or a massive wave would come over to the shore and take her with it, anything was better than standing here with a shocked look on her face as Ezra called her out on her embarrassing tweet she’d done on impulse. Her lips parted but no words came out as she tried to compose her features which she did a minute or so later, but she found herself looking away not quite finding the nerve to answer him. Sydney wasn’t sure how this would go because she never expected to him to find her tweet let alone run into him. However, what she hadn’t been expecting was the remark that followed after, the cocky tone in which he had delivered them and she wondered if he was mocking her until she met his gaze and saw the mirth gleaming in his eyes and then the wink. The brunette didn’t know what it was but that cocky remark irked her a bit, dare she say also disappointed her. Brow raised at him she spoke, “I’m still in shock that you read it and remembered exactly who tweeted it. And I wouldn’t say a crush, it was just a silly little thing..” Sydney told him neutrally, “Cocky aren’t you though?” She supposed it’s not so surprising, he was an celebrity after all. “And here I thought you were a bit more humble than that.” Her words a bit blunt, “I’m sure you get millions of tweets like those everyday.”

Perhaps teasing the brunette about her tweet wasn’t the classiest thing Ezra could’ve done. He should’ve been more of a gentleman, and yet, he was still human and things like subtly and being decent sometimes just slip past him. It wasn’t his intention to hurt her or be an ass, it was more of his way to lighten the mood a little. It might’ve rubbed her the wrong way though. Not that he could blame her for her reaction. He was being a total dick. He deserved nothing less. Her response had a smile stretching upon his features. Lithe in frame she might be, but there was something else that made her stand out; the woman had gumption. He actually admired that in her. Her question had him smirking, the memory of the very unfortunate tweet coming to the forefront of his mind. He could still remember it clearly, not word for word, but the icon of the person who’d made the tweet. Ezra remembered being mesmerized for a moment, feeling that it was too good to be true. Someone as beautiful as she was couldn’t possibly have a crush on him. He should be the one who should be holding those feelings, and not her.

One thing he would admit as he stood here, gazing down on her mesmerizing hazel hues, she looked even more beautiful in person than she did on that photo. Especially with ire burning within her irises, he swore he could stand here and just stare at her. Her remark had him blinking his eyes and focusing on her words instead of her pretty face. “I didn’t remember,” he admitted, his head shaking, the cocky smirk still holding its place, “what I do remember is your face. Those eyebrows of yours. How could anyone miss it?” Did that sound like a compliment or an insult? He meant well by it, yet he did have the tendency to stick his foot in his mouth, especially when it came to being around someone he might like. Not that he liked her or anything. Of course not… That would be ridiculous. “Cocky? I wouldn’t say that I was. I’d call it excessive confidence.” He stated this while shooting her a wink. Okay, this was getting weird. Why was he acting like this? “Hey, if I wasn’t humble, I wouldn’t have rescued you just now.” The words sprang forward rather quickly much to his surprise. And technically, he didn’t do much, he simply grabbed the guy by his collar and pulled him away. The rest was done by his security team. He didn’t miss the sharpness of her tongue. Clearly, she wasn’t amused by his behavior, and to be honest, neither was he. He didn’t even understand why he felt the need to act this way. This wasn’t like him at all. “Not from someone as beautiful as you.” He told her, this time he was being earnest. Never had he seen anyone so breathtaking, and he was in the entertainment industry…

It wasn’t that his approach had been horrible but a part of her surprise came from the fact that she hadn’t expected the man to make such an arrogant remark. Nor had she expected him to hit on her right after rescuing her, she just wasn’t used to such attention from a man of his stature. Men like him didn’t hit on women like her which is not to say that Sydney believed herself to be unattractive, she was aware of how attractive she was and was told so by both genders. It was just that she didn’t deem herself to be someone that would be hit on by a man who had no doubt been with stunning models and actresses in the entertainment industry. However, she wasn’t a complete twat to deny that she was flattered that Ezra seemed to notice her, whether he was sincere or not, that remained to be seen. Perhaps the silver lining in this was that Ezra while incredibly cocky, didn’t seem like the rude and snobby types that she had dealt with on set who looked down upon others that weren’t to their social standing. Her initial hesitance to approach him just minutes before he rescued her was because she was a bit afraid that he’d be exactly the rude type.

Ezra’s constant stare did unnerve her mostly because her body reacted very strongly to his piercing gaze. She almost guilty for the way she responding to his gaze because she was dating Lucia, a woman whom Sydney was incredibly attracted to and genuinely liked that she felt as she was doing something wrong by being attracted to this man. Well, it didn’t matter because as much as she admired him she had no intentions of dating him or anything. She’d met Ezra by chance and perhaps this would be the last time she’d ever see him and that might explain her body’s reaction. She simply was not used to being in the presence of an attractive man let alone being hit on by one. “Oh god, not you too..” She muttered under her breath, but of course he’d notice her eyebrows the one thing she despised about herself as a young girl because of the attention it drew, attention she also did not care for. “See, I can’t tell if your insulting me or complimenting.” She remarked pulling his leg for embarrassing her for a moment. However, that didn’t stop the brief amusement that flickered across her hazel hues nor did it stop the reluctant soft laughter that bubbled from within. She was amused by the words but she still wasn’t impressed, but then again Sydney wasn’t easily impressed by a pretty face and a few charming words. “You have a slick answer for everything don’t you?” Before shaking her head softly, and meeting his gaze, “Well, I would say rescuing me would make you a good Samaritan but I’m grateful nonetheless also thank your bodyguards for me.” His latter words however had her freeze for a moment, her gaze snapping over to him and dare she say he looked a bit nervous? Much to her dismay, butterflies swan at the pit of her stomach but she shook of the feeling of flattery and something else that rushed through her briefly. “Well….thank you.” Sydney then cleared her throat, tearing her gaze away to look over his shoulder, “Though I wouldn’t say that’s entirely true. I’ll be honest I’m not sure what you’re trying to gain by all the compliments. I do feel like I should clear up something, I don’t have a crush on you. That tweet was just a mindless thought, with that said, I do however think you’re extremely talented in your work.” Now that bit was the truth, she enjoyed watching Ezra on screen no one could deny that.

Ezra would never dare insult a woman, especially not one that was as bewitching as she was. It wasn’t just her beauty either, it was everything about her. From the bold tweet that he read right down to the way she wasn’t afraid to talk back to him. Most ordinary people, women especially, would gawk at him, and react as though he walked on water. Not this one. She knew exactly how to put him in his place, and maybe it sounded weird to others, but he admired that about her. The urge to get to know the spunky beauty was almost overwhelming, and normally he would be a little smoother in his delivery, yet with her, everything that came out sounded wrong, as though he was trying too hard, or worse yet, as if he’d never been around a beautiful woman before. He had. Of course, he did. However, none of them made him feel this need; the pull to want a little more, to get to know how her mind ticked. He’d been drawn to her even before he ever laid eyes on her personally–thanks to her mishap on Twitter. Now that she was here, there was no way he was going to allow her to slip through his grasp. One way or another, he would see her again; preferably on a date setting. For some, he might be too sure of himself, or even cocky, but that was just how Ezra’s mind worked. He didn’t give up, especially when he wanted something. He would chase after it until what he sought after was finally his.

A sheepish smile formed across his features, and he let out a chuckle at her remark. Despite knowing that he shouldn’t have noticed, he did. Perhaps she was a little self conscious about her eyebrows, which she honestly shouldn’t. They were beautiful, just like the owner. Her eyes were what drew him in to begin with. He almost felt as though her irises were trying to tell him something. What. He didn’t know, but he knew that he wasn’t going to stop until he unearth the reason behind the draw he felt for the woman. “Yes, me too.” He told her, the gentle smile still displayed for her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it as an insult. You have very beautiful brows, and eyes.” He finally explained, not wanting her to think that he was teasing her, because he truly meant to compliment her. Though he felt like an idiot for his faux pas earlier, at least he’d tried to make amends, therefore, he wasn’t that big of a tool. Well, at least he didn’t think so. When she called him slick, he had to laugh it off–nervously. God, what was this woman doing to him? He was Ezra Meyer, he didn’t get nervous… “I don’t have a slick answer. Sometimes, my tongue gets away with itself.” He tried to reason, though he didn’t know why he even felt the need to do so, he simply felt that he had to. Odd. “No, I was here so I helped. I’ll let my guys know that you’re grateful for their help.” He smiled at her as he spoke those words, his head tilting a little as he saw her reaction changing. Ezra might not have been an expert, but he could’ve sworn he saw her blush. She looked radiant like that, and he wanted to see a little more of that blush. “Really? So are you telling me that you do this to other actors as well, tweet that you have a crush on them even though you don’t?” He clicked his tongue afterwards, and then continued, “It doesn’t sound that you’re telling me the truth here, but thank you for the compliment. I’m proud of my work, and it’s good to know that others enjoy my acting as well.” He was mostly joking around, trying to make fun of the situation, and he hoped that she caught that by the way he was smiling down at her.

This entire exchange she was having with Ezra seemed so surreal because celebrities weren’t supposed to be like this. Especially not handsome men like Ezra, they were not supposed to stand around and give this much attention to a normal person they just happen to run into by accident. This was perhaps what threw her off for a bit, more so when he outright complimented her and then point the one thing he liked but she was very self-conscious of. Perhaps what puzzled her more was the way he kept gazing at her, as if he were waiting for something but what she didn’t know. She would never vocalize her attraction to him but she wouldn’t so dense as to deny it to herself. Then a smile curved his lips and Sydney found herself watching the brief action with utter fascination before she realized what she was doing and snapped out of it. Her heart still running ahead of her as she tried to calm it, keeping her features composed she spoke, but she was sure her cheeks definitely gave her blush. “Thank you, but why I do have a feeling you say this to a lot of girls?” Referring to eyes compliment he bestowed upon her. “If you are tying to hit on me, I can tell you right now I’m not interested.” Her words weren’t harsh, rather they were a matter-of-factly. An amused smile curved her own lips when he admitted to letting his mouth get the best of him, the sheepish look on his features made him look…normal. “Hmm, you could have fooled me. Especially with the crush comment you delivered oh so cockily a few moments go. But I suppose with a face like yours, you’re used to a different response from women.”

Ezra had caught her there, and she wished the group would open and swallow her whole once more because the man made an excellent point. Sydney didn’t go around sending tweets to other male celebrities she admired, at least two the kind she had sent to this actor. The brunette could feel her face heat up once more and she cursed at herself for being so affected by this man whom she barely knew and had no interest in pursuing. But as she stood and continued to indulge him, Sydney felt that familiar pull towards him as she did every time she saw him on screen. “I guess you’ll never know, won’t you?” She paused giving him an easy shrug, “Maybe I do, would you be offended?” She asked madly curious and raising a brow at him but of course she didn’t except an answer more than she was trying to take the spotlight off her. “Even if i’m not being truthful, it doesn’t matter, now does it?” She didn’t give him time to reflect on that before giving him a small smile, “You should be proud, I think I speak for a lot of people when I say we enjoying watching you.” She could see the humor in his eyes as she stared back at him, “If you don’t mind me asking, what brings you by here among us?” Gesturing towards the festivals.

It was rather astonishing to hear her conclusion of him. Of course Ezra wasn’t at all surprised that she would think of him as nothing but a player; he did came onto to her strongly. He wasn’t at all however. Although, he was friendly, he mostly liked keeping his personal life private; and it wasn’t because he had a hoard of women waiting in the wings to date him either. He just liked to keep certain things private. Hence the reason why there had been no sightings of him out on dates. He preferred it that way. Plus, if he was being honest, he never did understand why people would believe that he had a reputation of being a player; that was far from the truth. In the past year, he��d only been on one date and even then, it was more of a friendly get together. He didn’t see the point in dating anyone when he should be waiting to meet his soulmate. Besides, work kept him busy enough, he didn’t need to be in a relationship to fill a void that he never felt. Although now that he was standing before this beauty, he wondered that maybe she could be his other half. It might be possible seeing as he was so drawn to her. “I don’t say it to all the girls. Only you.” Which wasn’t a lie. He didn’t make a habit of hitting on women, he was just drawn to her. Seeing her sweetly smiling at him, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to get to know her even more. The need was intense; the pull too strong for him to deny. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to sound cocky. If I may be so bold…” He paused then, stepping an inch closer, eyes locking with hers. “–I find you refreshing.”

There was a change to her demeanor, and he could’ve sworn that she’d blushed. A part of him felt bad for possibly embarrassing her, but a bigger part of him was rather glad to see that he could silence her. It was only an added bonus to be able to gaze upon her while she thought of her next retort. His brows rose then, a half a smile forming on his lips for her sassy response. “I could investigate, you know. It’s not that hard.” He returned, though he kept his tone light to make sure she knew that he was joking. “It matters to me. I like feeling special.” There was no way she couldn’t tell that he was freely flirting with her now, even someone who was daft could tell by how he was smiling at her. If that wasn’t enough, he couldn’t seem to stop staring at her either. His gaze was stuck on her beautiful face the whole time; mesmerized that someone so gorgeous was in his presence, bantering back and forth with him. “Thanks. That’s why I do what I do.” This part made him feel a little awkward, though he loved his job, he didn’t do it for the fans, he did it for himself, because he enjoyed it. It boggles his mind still that people actually enjoyed his craft. “I was signing autographs. It makes it easier to do it in Stonehill seeing as I live here.” He answered her question without hesitation. “What about you? Are you here for the festivities or did you come to see me?” The last question made him chuckle, it also spoke of his intent; that he was simply joking around with her.

Sydney knew she making far too many assumptions considering she barely ever spotted Ezra with many women. If he was with them, he was one the few who was skilled at keeping his life private in that sense. Sydney almost hated how curious she was to know what sort of history he had with women but she also quickly chided herself because she had no business or the right to even wonder such a thing. Yes, she had a bit of a ridiculous crush on him but that hardly translated into feelings for interest not when she was dating a lovely woman herself. So when she had somewhat accused him of saying the same words to other women, her green hues had no missed his slight look of surprise. Still, despite her best efforts that compliment coming from Ezra who’d seen his fair share of gorgers women made her smile nonetheless. “You don’t, hmm, is that right?” She asked quirking a brow as her eyes gleamed and why she was standing around and flirting? with him, the brunette had no idea. Her eyes were still trained on him, mostly in a curious manner as if he were a puzzle she was trying to piece together. It was then noticed him taking a step closer whilst he spoke, and she felt her breath catch when their eyes locked. She was stunned to see that intense look in his piercing eyes that almost left her breathless. Partly hating herself for reacting the way she was just because he happened to flirt with her a bit. But his words had sent her heart into yet another frenzy that she couldn’t think of one witty remark to make that was her usual response to this sort of thing when she was flustered. “You’ve been bold since the moment you approached me.” She managed to slip out, her lips twitching a bit, “And you don’t strike me as the type to be…uncertain.” His voice softer than he had been just minutes ago.

Sydney could stand there and continue to deny it to herself but whether she liked it or not, she felt completely drawn to him. She only wished she knew why she was, she’d met dozens of celebrities she was fond of but none of them had her reacting this way as she was towards Ezra. However, for once she was stunned into silence by his words and a part of her wondered if this was all a figment of her imagination. But the way her body was responding and her heart was pounding, she knew this was very much real, that Ezra was in fact hitting on her. Worse of it, Sydney was liking it much to her dismay. If she had any doubts of his intention, well, they were all clear now as she felt the weight of his gaze on her and he refused to look away with let her more flustered. Her lips curved into an amused smile at his quick response, “You could but that would be very ungentlemanly of you, unless you aren’t a gentlemen?” She trailed off forgetting for a moment she wasn’t supposed to be flirting back with him. She knew he was jesting from his tone, before she laughed at his next words. “Ezra, you’re a hot shot actor with billions of fan. How much more special could you want to feel? I’m just one fan among throngs of them and one you barely know and came across by accident.” She explained with a slight shrug, “I’m sure your fans make you feel special every day. Ignoring how conceited you sound right there.”She let him see her amused smile so he’d see she was also pulling his leg in return. She nodded, “I’m sure thats not the only reason why you do it. You love it, don’t you? Acting, stepping into different roles that challenge you. You look like sometimes you forget there are cameras surrounding you.” She murmured mostly to herself that she wasn’t sure if he’d heard that. “That it does, you sure seemed to make the kids happy.” Gesturing to the several kids that walked by and stared at Ezra which had Sydney smiling before she heard his latter words and shook her head. Her nose pinching up a bit, “As I thought, you are far too arrogant for your own good. I should tell you, I didn’t know you’d be here so you can imagine my surprise and then my embarrassment when you recognized me.” But Sydney laughed along with him. “It’s been….interesting chatting with you….”

Ezra had never allowed himself to let go like this. Although he’d dated in the past, his affections were not freely given. It was as though there was something pulling him back and telling him that the women in his past were nothing but people he could have fun with. There was no bigger plans written in the horizon for them. Sydney was different however. The draw he felt for her was so strong, he was nearly rendered speechless by it. It made him wonder then, if maybe she was his destiny; his other half. He wasn’t a cynic, and believed in soulmates; even if he wasn’t actively searching for his, he knew that he would someday cross paths with the person who was born to complete him. He simply had faith that it would happen. “No, I don’t. You’re just special.” He reiterated, his hues still lingering with hers, hoping that she could sense his sincerity. Perhaps the bold way he came on to her was a tell. It might be his own subconscious telling him that he might’ve found his match, because he honestly had never been this way with anyone. “I know I have been, and I should apologize, but at the same time, I don’t think I should be.” He returned, his voice clear and concise, not allowing room for Sydney to mistake his intention. His body language, the way he spoke, everything screamed that he liked her. “A human being is allowed to be unsure of things. On the other hand, I’m very sure of how I feel.” Feeling bold for some odd reason, he reached out and tucked back the hair that was flowing in the wind.

Ezra’s fingers lightly grazed Sydney’s skin as he pulled his hand back, and even with such a slight action, he could feel her softness marking him, daring him to touch her once more. It was as if she was a Siren, leading him to his doom, even though he didn’t feel the least bit worried that she would be his downfall. If anything, she could probably make him shine even brighter. “Lucky for you, I am a gentleman, otherwise I might just snoop around to find out more about you.” He could still do that, hire a private investigator to unearth the mysteries about her life that he wanted answers to. But he wasn’t going to go down that route. If he was going to find out about her, he would have to do it the old fashioned way, by asking her. “Do I actually have billions of fans? I don’t think so. I guess I must be greedy when it comes to you.–Just so you know, I don’t believe in accidents. Destiny, now that I believe in. Perhaps this is just Destiny’s way to tell me something…us something.” He tilted his head down a little, allowing his face to inch even closer to the beauty. God, he was definitely smitten by her. If only he could convince her to go out with him, that would make him even happier. “I don’t pay attention to them all that much. You however, I could pay attention to for a long time.” He returned with a shrug, now biting on his bottom lip a little as he continued to gaze upon her beautiful features. “I do what I can. Signing autographs is part of the job, right? Without them,” he nodded at the hoards of children and people in general, “I wouldn’t have a job.”He wasn’t delusional enough to believe that he could do this without help, and made sure to always show his appreciation in any way he could. “I do love it. I wouldn’t be doing it for so long if I didn’t love acting. It’s like you said, I get to act out different characters. It’s really interesting.” He agreed with her assessment wholeheartedly. Acting might be mere entertainment for some, but for him, it was art, a way to express his creativity, and he was glad that Sydney understood that. “What? Me arrogant?” He gasped, feigning surprise, “I could never behave that way. I always want to be charming with you.–It’s been interesting to meet me? Is that your way of saying that you want me to get out of your face?” The thought of having to leave her so soon left a hole in his heart. He didn’t want to have to do that, but if he must, he might as well ask the question that has been itching to come out. “Would it be bold of me to ask for your phone number?” He sounded unsure as he posed the question, afraid that she might tell him no.

It had been such a long time since someone had complimented her so well, whether Ezra was serious or not was another thing it didn’t change the fact that she liked what she heard from him. Which made her feel a bit naive because his attentions were fleeting right now she might have caught his eye but she was nothing more than a passing fancy. Maybe he was curious but how long would she be able to hold his interest? Not for very long, not when there was a sea of fascinating people right in the entertainment industry. It was what made it easy for her to humor him while he flirted, sure she flirted back but not to the extent that he seemed to be. So, then why in the world was her heart racing? She chalked it up to being star-struck but this man certainly had an uncanny ability to make a woman feel so special. She tried not to focus on the way his eyes lingered on her, oh, he was really good at this. “No, I don’t think you’d be sorry neither should you be. Nothing wrong with being bold.” She told him sincerely, there was no rule against it. It was his next words that caused her to move her gaze to him, silently watching as he stepped closer and brushed her hair back. “How you feel. How do you feel anything? You just met me.” She countered, wanting to move back from his rather intriguing touch but somehow her body would not move.

His touch had been light but god she had felt the sparks of it across her entire cheek, causing it to tingle. God, she had to resist the urge to shut her eyes and lean into his touch but her embarrassment stopped her from doing anything. Sydney cleared her throat but still her feet would not move to step away from him and she felt the heat of his body slowly transfer over to her. Tucking her own hair back she met his gaze once more, ensuring her features remained neutral lest he see her flurry of emotions. Her eyes widened slightly at his confession, lips parting once more but no sound came. It took her a split second to realize he was jesting but her heart hammered once more against her chest. “Lucky for me indeed.” she murmured not quite sure what to say to that before she heard him continue and remained silent because for once her witty remarks were failing her. She’d never been in situation like this nor was she used so such attentions from anyone, let alone Ezra. “I didn’t know you believed in all of that. Its charming though, and it a bit strange hearing it from you just as strange hearing you say you want my attention.” She would be lying if she said she did, because when it came down she believed in no such thing. She believed their encounter to be nothing more than a coincidence. She wasn’t a cynic per say but she was not a romantic either but somehow she sensed Ezra was which made her admire him even more for some inexplicable reason. Why that little appealed to her, she did not know. “I don’t know what its trying to tell us, other than coincidences happen on occasion. As for paying attention to me, I really wish you don’t.” She told matter of factly, meeting her gaze to show him just how serious she was of her words. She felt like a bitch for sure, but Sydney wanted no such attention for this man mostly because she hated how she was responding to it. How drawn she was to him and it scared her beyond belief. It scared her because if he wanted to, he could easily make her do as he asked. She could not allow that.

Sydney nodded when he began speaking about how much he loved his work, she could see that passion in his eyes for what he did and it make her like him even more. Whereas people went into the business for fame, Ezra didn’t and she had so much respect for people like him. She respected people who respected that art of acting that it was so much more than looking pretty on a camera and the fame that came with it. it was why it was such a pleasure watching on screen, because Ezra put his soul into his characters. “Your cocky but your also very humble, I guess I was a bit wrong about you.” She admitted, “It really is, and I can tell how you love it. I wish other actors had the same sort of passion as you do for your work.” She blurted out without really thinking it threw, “I mean, if only people looked at acting the way you did.” She quickly amended. A laugh left her lips at his innocent look and she gave him a amused look in return, “Arrogant but yes your charming, Ezra. I bet you make ladies fall in love with you left and right.” She teased before a chuckle left her yet again. She smiled at him secretly, not giving anything away, “Interesting, amongst other things.” Letting him make of that what he would. “I don’t mean to be rude but my friends will be looking for me” She then showed him her phone that was blown with text messages form said friends. “I can’t keep them waiting.” Then he asked her for her number and Sydney stared at him a bit confused, but this man was determined if not anything. “Yes, it would be but you don’t shy away from bold. I’m not sure thats a good idea, you seem to want something from me. I don’t know what exactly but I’m sure I can’t give it to you regardless….”

When Ezra woke up this morning, he didn’t know what the day was going to be like. He went about his daily routine; working out at his home gym, having breakfast, going about the day as if it was any other Halloween. His life consisted of work and more work. He hadn’t had a day off since forever, and he was fine with it; happy even. What he didn’t expect was for all of this to happen. Everyday, he would think about some crazy occurrence that had come to pass and today of all days, he remembered the tweet that Sydney had made; the one that made him take notice of her. He could still feel the regret bearing down on him for not having contact her back then. He had wanted to, but didn’t dare go against the advice of his manager. After all, he had an image to protect; at least that was the argument his manager made. He’d decided then that he needed to put the incident in the past and not think about the brunette with the striking eyes. That’s what he remembered calling her when he gazed upon her profile photo. Little did he know that their destinies was about to intertwine. Some call it coincidence, but Ezra knew better. Their meeting was Faith’s way of saying that she was supposed to be in his life; though he didn’t know in what capacity… Still, the idea of her being his other half lingered within the depths of his conscience. He couldn’t be sure of it until he kissed her–and he would kiss her someday, he was sure of it. His gaze drifted down to her full lips, his desire to kiss her was so strong, it took his breath away. Before he could allow himself to foolishly pull her in for a kiss, her forced himself to focus on the conversation or at least try to.

“I didn’t think so either. I think you might like me better because I’m bold.” Ezra responded, a cheeky grin feature upon his face. Her question didn’t even phase him, he’d never been so sure of anything in his life. There was just something about being around Sydney that felt right. “Sometimes, when you know, you just know…” He remarked rather cryptically; he didn’t have to know her to feel the way he felt. His feelings were just there. Could this be love at first sight? He wasn’t so sure if he believed that notion. Lust at first sight, sure… Everyone has experienced that, but this wasn’t like that. He didn’t want her physically, or at least not just her body–he wasn’t a eunuch, he had sexual needs too. This went beyond anything physical. He needed to know her, every fiber of his being was yelling at him not to let her go. His hues took her in once again, taking in her lithe figure and the way she’d cleared her throat. Could it be that he wasn’t the only one feeling this pull? Did she feel the sizzle of the slight touch he’d accidentally bestowed upon her? He wasn’t bold enough to believe in such a thing, and yet, once again, his mind wondered if maybe he’d been right all along, that she truly was his intended other half. “Come on, you can’t really call this a coincidence. What is the likelihood of you getting saved by the actor you so publicly say you have a crush on?” A brow arched as the question left him, though he really didn’t need the answer. “As for paying attention to you… I can’t help myself. It’s only fair after you’ve declared your undying love for me.” God, he sounded like such a jackass here, he knew that, but instead of apologizing, he shot her a wink and smiled. She’d already thought he was cocky, so why not just continue with the role, right?

Ezra’s grin turned into a full on genuine smile when he heard her complimenting him. It felt right to hear those words coming from her, as if her appreciation meant the world to him. And the funny part about all this was, he never needed anyone’s approval before this. He’d gone into acting because he simply love it, not because he needed people to love him. That wasn’t important, and yet, hearing Sydney’s compliment sounded like the sweetest of symphonies. It was an odd feeling, one he wanted to feel over and over if given the chance. “Thanks. I like to surprise people every once in a while. I suppose it’s not always bad to be cocky as long as there’s a humble side to a person.” He added on to her remark, still smiling brightly for her. “Some people get into acting for the wrong reasons. Those are the ones that get into trouble.” It was true, the ones that only wanted fame tended to get into drugs or whatever shit that would bring them to a downward spiral. It was rather sad really. “I don’t know about women falling in love with me. Most of them just care about me because I’m an actor or because they think I’m hot or whatever.” He waved a hand around to dismiss the topic; he didn’t want women to lust after him or fall for him for the wrong reasons, he would rather not have the attention. Again, he felt discomfort creeping into his heart when she made an excuse to leave, he wanted her to give him her phone number, but Sydney was resisting his request. He knew then not to push it, even if it pained him to walk away from her not knowing if he would ever see her again. “I’m not going to push for it. I’m sure we’ll see each other again.” He was more than certain of that, he didn’t want to sound cocky, but there was no way they would’ve met like this if he wasn’t fated to be in her life in some way. “You should go meet up your friends before they really blow up your phone with their text messages.” He encouraged, smiling down at the lithe framed woman.When one of his bodyguards gestured that it was time for him to leave, he let out a sigh and addressed Sydney once more. “That’s my queue to leave. You take care of yourself, Sydney. I’ll see you again soon.” Then, because he couldn’t stop himself, he took her hand and pressed a kiss on the back of it. “Till next time.” He hummed, gently released said hand and backed away from her. With a smile on his face, he headed back to his car with security surrounding him, already looking forward to his next meeting with the brunette with the striking eyes.

#sezra01 #ezra x sydney

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in-dreams-dark · 5 years ago

Text

boobs are always in the way, part i

pairing: thorin oakenshield x human female reader

genre: comedy, fluff

word count: 3,697

warnings: there’s a bit of elves being total asses in the beginning. also, there’s a lot of sexual tension between the reader and thorin. also a lot of boobs, obviously.

gif and characters aren’t mine

This was not something you expected to happen when you woke up in Middle-earth a few months ago. Sure, you knew everything that was going to happen from watching the movies, but you never thought that elves would be such perverts. Embarrassed and blushing angrily, you stripped off the fur coat and outer clothes gifted to you from Thorin Oakenshield's Company. You avoided the Mirkwood guards' unapologetic eyes as they raked up and down your body without hesitation. The dwarves started shouting in anger at this, about how this was intolerable and unfair to the only female in an overwhelmingly large group of males.

"Can you not see that she is a woman!?" Bofur asked the guards angrily from where he and the rest of the Company were held back from pummeling the guards. You briefly lifted your head to look at him, then Thorin, both pairs of eyes burning with anger. "Show some respect, ya bastards!"

"Orders are directly from His Majesty, King Thranduil," a male guard answered with a smirk as he and the others looked up and down your body. "Strip and search for weapons, regardless of gender."

You kept your eyes glued to your boots as you tried to cover up your slightly-exposed chest with your arms. You had on the same low-cut camisole and leggings you were wearing when you fell into Middle-earth. You had decided to wear them as part of the three layers you had on to keep the cold away. You were only just now realizing that it wasn't the best idea.

The guards roughly grabbed the dwarves and forced them to walk at a fast pace towards what you assumed was the King's prison. You were roughly shoved into Thorin as he passed on his way to see the King, making the two of you stumble. He steadied you by grabbing your waist, causing a blush to creep up your neck.

"Was that really necessary?" you demanded with ice in your voice and fire in your eyes as Thorin released you. The guards smirked before marching the two of you off in opposite directions. You met Thorin's gaze briefly before he disappeared from your view.

The farther you walked, the colder it became, making you rub your slightly shivering arms for warmth. Once thoroughly picked clean of weapons and locked in the cells, the Company rattled and threw themselves into the bars of the doors while you simply looked around your small cell. Balin told them it was no use, and eventually, everyone gave up. It grew quiet before a deep voice rang out from your right.

"Lass, are you alright?" It was Dwalin, that hard-headed sweetheart. The Company was always making sure you were taken care of, no matter what. It warmed your heart, especially when everyone else joined in. "It's mighty cold down here and I ken you aren't wearin' much."

"I-I'll be f-fine," you stuttered, goosebumps racing your skin in the cool atmosphere. Dwalin cursed at your stuttering and you sighed as the others' voices called out to any nearby guards, but were silenced when two appeared escorting Thorin. They stopped in front of your cell and you looked up, startled, as the door opened and Thorin was shoved inside, missing his layers of clothes and variety of weapons. He stumbled and caught himself before he could ram into you, but only barely.

"Please, could I have something to cover up with?" you asked the guards as politely as you could muster, though your anger from earlier still fiery. The guard snorted majestically and slammed the cage shut, making your blood boil. The nerve of that fucking elf! You heard rustling and looked over in time to see Thorin wrap his arms around your arms, the warmth and proximity his body provided making you blush, your anger momentarily forgotten.

"Thank you, Thorin," you said quietly before bending over slightly to plant a lingering kiss on his bearded cheek. He nodded, a bit flustered, and walked towards the door, you still wrapped up in his embrace.

"Did he offer you a deal?" Balin asked from his cell.

"He did," the dwarven King replied with distaste, his mood fouling quickly. "I told him he could go ish kakhfê ai'd dur rugnu. Him and all his kin!"

"Well, that's that then," Balin said with quiet finality. "A deal...was our only hope."

"Not our only hope," Thorin said quietly, leaning forward to look out and above the prison. You suddenly remembered that Bilbo was still out there, hidden from sight by the One Ring. You weren’t sure how long the dwarves were stuck in the prison for, but you hoped it was long enough to have some personal time with Thorin.

Hours filled with quiet conversation passed. You sat next to the King, the closest you'd been to him in a long time, and smiled at everything he said. Truly, you were in love with him, and you hoped to any and all gods that he felt the same towards you. His actions spoke loudly of his fondness for you, yet you were hesitant due to the certainty of his future, should you choose to keep quiet about the events after Lake-town.

"I wager the sun is on the rise," Bofur commented loud enough for everyone to hear, defeat in his voice. It drew you out of the conversation you were in with Thorin, as everyone had been mostly quiet. "Must be nearly dawn."

"We're never going to reach the mountain, are we?" Ori asked his eldest brother just loud enough to hear, turning away from the cell door with sadness.

"Not stuck in here, you're not," a familiar voice sounded from outside your cell. You heard a slight jingling of keys and your eyes darted up to see none other than Bilbo Baggins. Your heart leaped for joy as the sight of that curly-haired hobbit, even if you knew he would come to the Company’s rescue.

"Bilbo!" Balin exclaimed as you jumped up from the stone bench and grabbed onto the bars of the cell door, Thorin right behind you.

"Shh! There are guards nearby!" Bilbo scolded as the other dwarves started to cheer. The hobbit quickly unlocked the cells, releasing everyone. You stepped out and wrapped your arms around yourself once again. Just as goosebumps raced over your skin, a warm hand suddenly came to rest on your lower back. You looked over to see Thorin at your side with his eyes averted from you. You smiled and looked around to see the rest of the Company doing the same.

"What happened to your clothes, (Y/N)?" the Hobbit asked, a bit of red staining his cheeks as he finally got a good look at you.

"The guards took them, those assholes," you explained, your anger from earlier igniting again. "I'll wring their necks for robbing me of my decency." A smile tugged at Thorin's lips as Bilbo swallowed, both knowing that you'd fulfill your promise if given the chance.

Dori started up the stairs with everyone following but quickly stopped when Bilbo said to follow him farther down into the prison. You walked quickly with Thorin behind you and Dwalin in front, both making sure prying eyes wouldn't see much. You were appreciative, but they couldn't do much except glare at onlookers due to the fact that you were taller than both. Bilbo slowed his advance and the Company copied as you came upon the Wardens of the prison, drunk and snoring ever so gracefully.

"This way," Bilbo whispered as he walked past and motioned for you to follow.

"I don't believe it—we're in their cellars!" Kíli quietly exclaimed excitedly, eyes wide and a goofy smile on his lips.

"You're supposed to be leading us out, not further in!" Bofur said sourly as your group filed into a space occupied only by empty wine barrels.

"I know what I'm doing-" Bilbo started to answer before Bofur loudly shushed him. You looked back at the sleeping elves, anxiety creeping into your mind even though you knew they wouldn’t wake until after you escaped.

"Everyone climb into the barrels, quickly," the hobbit explained with vigor, but Dwalin turned and asked Bilbo if he was mad. There was a brief uproar of defiance before Thorin said to follow the command. Each dwarf climbed into one of the thirteen barrels, leaving you standing there with your arms crossed over your chest.

"What about me?" you asked quietly, worried eyes turning to Bilbo's as he contemplated. This was something you hadn’t thought of.

"Get in with someone," he said after a moment. At his words, almost every dwarf started whisper-yelling that you should ride with him, making Bilbo roll his eyes.

"She rides with me," Thorin said with finality as he looked at you, standing there shivering slightly and blushing like mad. You nodded and briefly uncrossed your arms to climb into the barrel facing him. The barrel was short, the edge only coming up to Thorin's broad chest and your mid-back. You quickly discovered that there wasn't enough space in the barrel to make yourself decent, so you pulled your camisole up as far as you could manage.

Once situated, Bofur asked Bilbo what was next. The hobbit answered that you needed to hold your breath and your heart sped up as he pulled a lever. The floor tilted and dumped all thirteen barrels into a river below, everyone exclaiming in surprise. You braced for impact as your and Thorin's barrel hit the water, but you still managed to hit your head on his.

"Ow!" you exclaimed in surprise after you surfaced. You pushed your wet hair off your face and rubbed your forehead. "You've got a hard head."

"Are you alright?" Thorin asked with humor, his eyes finding yours after lingering on your chest for a moment. Your camisole was wet, making you become hyper-aware that it was now skin-tight and defined your breasts more. Honestly, you're a complete idiot for keeping it.

"Yeah, sorry about that," you said sheepishly, as a blush sparked on your face again. It was only then, while standing up, you realized that Thorin's head only reached your chest. You tried to move away and only managed to put a measly two inches between you and the King. Thorin cleared his throat awkwardly and you realized that you weren’t making the situation any better by wiggling around. A few whoops and wolf whistles drew your attention to Bofur and Thorin's nephews, who were waggling their eyebrows at you. You splashed at them and chuckled humorlessly in embarrassment, blush coating yours and Thorin’s cheeks.

The passage above opened just a moment later and Bilbo fell into the water with a yelp. Nori grabbed onto him and helped him get a hold on his barrel. Thorin praised Bilbo for his actions, then began to quickly paddle downstream while you could only grip his shoulder and the edge of the barrel to stay upright. You could hear the elven guards chasing the Company and could imagine the scene from the movie. The dwarves came upon an opening in the cave and your relief was drowned out by the sight of a waterfall. You forgot about that part.

"Hold on!" Thorin called back to the Company as the two of you braced against the barrel. You shrieked as you fell over and into rapids. You heard a yelp after surfacing and looked back to see Nori struggling to keep Bilbo afloat. Thorin tried to reach out to help but the current pushed the barrel farther away. A door opening caught your eye and you saw Legolas and another elf walk out. The unfamiliar elf blew a horn, and you and Thorin turned forward to see a guard closing the gate to freedom.

"No!" Thorin yelled as the barrel thumped into the gate, followed by the rest of the Company running into you and the King. A moment later, the sound of an arrow hitting its mark and a guard groaning in pain alerted you to more danger. An animalistic growl was all you needed to know what was attacking: an orc.

Sounds of fighting ensued as they poured over the walls of the elven kingdom. You watched with wide eyes as one jumped onto Bofur and another took Nori by surprise. Bilbo stabbed one as Dwalin elbowed another. You quickly realized that Kíli would jump out of his barrel to open the gate any second. You yelled at him to stop, but it was too late, as he was already on the bank of the river, fighting off orcs as he made his way to the lever. Fíli's shout let you know that he had been shot with that damn black arrow, and your heart twisted painfully when you heard him loudly groan in pain.

"Kíli," Thorin said with disbelief on his face. You shared eye contact but were interrupted when a female elf ran onto the scene, followed by Legolas and other elves who were slaying orcs swiftly and gracefully. The gate suddenly opened and the barrel lurched forward and over another waterfall. You took in a gasping breath as you surfaced, once hand clutching the barrel and the other latched onto Thorin's shoulder for support. You both lurched around as you went through more rapids, Thorin's face coming in contact with your breasts more than once, even if he tried not to.

Arrows whizzed by your head and lodged into the barrel as you passed by the disgusting orcs, the Mirkwood elves not far behind. Thorin pushed you back and threw a spear into an orc that jumped at Balin, effectively pinning it to a fallen tree. He caught the orc's weapon and threw it back to Dwalin, who threw it to Nori and then Kíli. The King stole an ax from a dead orc and yelled to cut a log that multiple orcs were gathering on. You ducked as he drew back and gave the ax a heavy swing into the wood, the tree breaking a moment later when Dwalin finished it off. You watched in amazement as Bombur's barrel was lifted onto a log and rolled down the bank, killing as many as twenty orcs in his path of destruction before killing even more with a weapon in each hand.

You watched in slight amusement as Legolas jumped onto Dwalin and Dori's heads to shoot orcs with his bow. He jumped back onto the bank and rode an orc down a hill before jumping from dwarf to dwarf to the other side, where he tangled with an orc while another snuck up on him. Quickly, you took the ax from Thorin's hands and hurled it at the incoming orc with a shout. It lodged in its chest, killing it and perhaps saving Legolas. You watched as he shot one last orc hanging onto Dwalin's barrel and stopped at the top of the hill. You knew that it was the border of the Woodland Realm, meaning he wouldn't follow.

Eventually, the Company drifted into calmer waters. You took a moment to make sure everyone was still alive and accounted for as everyone made their way towards shore. Once close enough, you and Thorin tipped the barrel and you swam out into the open water before walking up the black stone bank, the rest of the company following. To your left, Kíli groaned in pain and stumbled. You quickly clutched his waist and chest, keeping him standing for a moment.

"Kíli," you said worriedly, concern painting your face. "We need to bind your wound."

"It's nothing, (Y/N), I'll be fine," he reassured you with a strained smile. He pulled away from your arms and you met Fíli's equally concerned gaze. The blonde Durin walked up and spoke softly with his brother for only a moment before Thorin was barking orders to move at the Company. Fíli bartered ten minutes to bind his brother's wound, to which you were thankful for.

You sat on the edge of the bank with Ori, shivering and soaking wet, and dumped out the river water in your boots like he was. Just as the young dwarf was about to say something, probably about your lack of clothes, a shadow fell over the two of you. Looking up slowly, you see a man with an arrow notched in his longbow but not yet trained on anyone. Dwalin suddenly jumped in front of you, brandishing a tree branch in defense. The man swiftly fired the arrow at the branch, then knocked another and let it fly at the rock Kíli was about to throw, making him drop it in surprise.

"Do it again, and you're dead," the man warned in a deep tenor voice, his bow and eyes trained cautiously on the dwarves, and then on you. "What is a human woman doing with a group of dwarven men? And dressed as strangely as that?"

Thorin and Dwalin immediately step in front of you defensively as Ori pulled you to your feet. You gently shrugged out of his light grasp and walked to Thorin, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked at you questioningly, and Dwalin looked ready to pounce on the man at any moment.

"It's alright, everyone," you assured the Company as you met the suspicious brown eyes of the bowman. "This man is Bard. He is a bargeman from Lake-town."

He regarded you in defensive surprise and distrust, and you only offered a timid smile. "How did you come by this information? I do not know you."

The dwarves looked to you with similar expressions as they piped up in confusion. You sighed through your nose, and Thorin remembered when you told them of their portrayal in books in your world. You chose to leave out the movie adaptations for your convenience. Suddenly, a brilliant trick came to your mind and you couldn't pass up the opportunity to play it out.

"True, you don't know me, but I know you," you said slowly. "I am a Soothsayer from a different land. I have seen our encounter in my visions. We are in need of food, supplies, and weapons. I know you can help us, for a price. We mean neither you nor Lake-town any harm."

Bard slowly lowered his bow and replaced the arrow in his quiver. His eyes scanned your body and you blushed, suddenly remembering that you were nearly naked by their standards. You pulled your camisole up as he looked away, obviously uncomfortable as well. After a moment of thinking, he started loading the now-empty barrels onto his barge. It seems that he had not deemed you and the dwarves as a threat, and a conversation struck up as Balin asked the dark-haired man some questions. You winced when he asked about Bard's wife, already knowing the answer. They quickly moved on, but Dwalin snapped impatiently at them, prompting the bargeman to ask what the hurry was. And of course, the tattooed dwarf was quick to become defensive.

"What's it to you?" he growled menacingly. You shot him a look and he deflated a bit, but not much.

"I would like to know who you are," Bard replied as he turned and walked closer to your group. "And what you are doing in these lands."

"We are simple merchants from the Blue Mountains, journeying to see our kin in the Iron Hills," Balin replied so smoothly you nearly believed the lie yourself. "The woman is (Y/N), a close friend who is accompanying us to provide clearance with her visions."

You were surprised that Balin could lie so convincingly. You were like two peas in a pod, and you felt pretty proud the two of you actually came up with all that. You felt a bit bad though, knowing that you couldn't tell Bard the truth. He was such a wonderful man, and you hoped that you could somehow warn him against the attack from Smaug.

"Simple merchants and a Soothsayer, you say?" Bard echoes with humorous sarcasm. Maybe Balin wasn't as convincing as you thought. "I know where these barrels came from," he says as he walks over and runs his fingers over the arrow divots in the dark wood.

"What of it?" Thorin asks with a slightly defensive edge in his voice.

"I don't know what business you had with the elves, but I don't think it ended well. No one enters Laketown but by leave of the Master. All his wealth comes from trade with the Woodland Realm. He would see you in irons before risking the wrath of King Thranduil."

Bard tossed a coiled length of rope at Balin, who caught it with surprise. The dwarf made eye contact with Thorin, who quietly urged him on. Bard looked between the two before turning away and taking off his quiver.

"I'll wager there are ways to enter that town unseen."

Bard paused.

"Aye. But for that," he said as he set his weapon on a barrel, "you will need a smuggler."

"And for that, we will pay double," Balin said from directly next to the bargeman, making him look up in surprise. He took a moment to weigh the pros and cons before he agreed, and the Company gratefully and somewhat warily piled onto the barge. They weren't sure they could trust the man, considering they only met a handful of minutes ago.

Bard set out for Lake-town a moment later, and the knowledge of the Company and Lake-town's future began to weigh heavily on your mind. Your gaze was drawn to the young Princes, watching as they spoke lowly to each other, before turning your eyes to Thorin, who was also speaking softly with a few others. They had no idea of the heartache awaiting them in Erebor, the betrayal that will be felt by all. If it was in your power, you would save Lake-town from dragon fire, save the King from himself, and save the two Princes from a gruesome and bloody fate. You were pulled from your deep and troubling thoughts as the barge slowly drew closer to the suffering town.

#the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #x reader #thorin x reader

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