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sorrowsofsilence · 11 months ago

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Burning Out • V

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 6.6k

General Fanfic Warnings: 18+, explicit language, smut, alcohol, drugs, violence, mentions murder/suicide, panic attacks/anxiety, nightmares

Authors note: Chapter Five- A Dreamlike Heathen (EDITED: 09-03-24)

new? start from chapter one here

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY, IN REAL LIFE! IT IS SIMPLY FICTION, AND JUST FOR FUN! THINK OF THEM AS ACTORS LOL.

"Fuck, Noah," she moaned, throwing her head back against the mirror as she rode the wave of pleasure. Her eyebrows were furrowed in ecstasy.

"Don't stop," she begged, and I didn't. I gave her everything I had.

"Come for me, Y/N," I said between licks and squeezes of her hips. "Be a good girl for me."

As her legs started to tremble and her mouth opened in a silent scream, she reached the peak of her climax. I continued until she pushed me away, her breathing becoming shallow as she caught her breath. I took hold of her chin and brought her lips to mine, yearning for her to taste herself on my tongue.

Life had broken her; just as it had broken him. But when they got together, their pieces became whole. And they started on their journey, together, mended as one. - Steve Maraboli

+++++

NOAH

Twenty fucking thousand dollars. Twenty.

My thoughts were consumed by two things. The first was the daunting task of coming up with all the money myself. And the second, the fact that I had slept with Y/N last night. The next morning, I sat on the cot in our motel room, my head buried in my hands as my leg fidgeted anxiously.

“I-I should go,” Y/N hopped off the counter, wiping my release off of her stomach before readjusting her shorts.

“wait-” I grabbed her wrist, pulling her back toward my drunken state, “can I see you again?”

She gave me a wry smile, “I’d like that.” She tugged from my grasp but I held her tighter, pulling her into my arms.

My body remained swaying, the euphoria and alcohol mixed, “do you regret what just happened?”

I wasn’t sure if this question was for me, or her.

“No,” She said, her fingertips running up the skin of my neck. She fit against my body perfectly, as if she was always meant to be there.

I had left the bar with the boys minutes after fucking Y/N’s brains out, stealing lingering glances at her figure behind the counter before parting. Even though I was drunk, I couldn’t believe it happened… but I needed a release, a bit of euphoria to ride out through dealing with the crushing news D gave us.

Twenty thousand.

My eyes settled on the anklet that D had forced me to wear, the green dot blinking every few seconds. I couldn't believe that the bastard was tracking our every move now. He'd been following us for years, but this was taking it to a whole new level.

I had no idea how I was going to come up with that much money on my own. The boys and I took turns doing jobs each night just to keep our sanity, but the fact that I had to keep a log of where we got the money from and submit it to one of D's lackeys so he could monitor my work was absurd.

To make twenty thousand by the end of the month, I'd need to bring in approximately 645 dollars per day since there were 31 days. Realistically, that didn't seem too difficult when broken down, but some days we would bring in thousands while others we would make absolutely nothing. At least my final day of owing would also be my birthday; what a great present.

I let out a groan and flopped onto the mattress on the floor, feeling overwhelmed by my thoughts. Everything had led up to this moment, and I still felt completely screwed over.

Jolly sat on his bed, strumming away at his old acoustic guitar that was barely holding onto its strings. With his fingers dancing along the neck, I closed my eyes and let myself get lost in the rhythm he created, tapping my fingers along to the beat.

I began humming, words spiralling out of my mouth subconsciously, “I’ve seen the devil, more than I’ve seen god.”

Jolly gave me a slight snicker, continuing to strum, “I like that.”

“I see through you, I know what you are.”

I repeated the two phrases over and over, singing lowly as I continued to drum my fingers. Hmm. I checked the time on my phone briefly, realizing it was 4:30 pm.

I sat up, grabbed my bag and swung it over my shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Jolly asked.

“To see Y/N.”

“Why?” Jolly stopped playing, placing the guitar across the bedsheets.

It's been twenty long years I've cried, but not enough tears I've become the sum of all my fears (I feel scared, so scared)

I stared at him blankly, the cogs within my mind turning to find an answer themselves. Why was I going to see her? Why did I care that I made it for when she got off work at the cafe? Something about her was magnetizing, and I couldn’t help but crave more. I wanted to explore her mind and body; to know her in every way possible.

I don’t have time to think of someone like her; I don’t deserve to think of someone like her.

I have a job to do.

But I don’t care.

“I don’t know,” I turned to look at him with my hand on the doorknob.

Jolly’s eyes watched back quizzically, “I think you should leave her out of this. Break it off now.”

I furrowed my brows, “There’s nothing to break off.”

Jolly gave me a curt laugh, “Yea, which is why you fucked in the bathroom yesterday. Nothing to break off.”

My face warmed, unsure of how he knew. I didn’t think it was obvious.

“She seems like a nice girl. You wouldn’t want to get her killed,” Jolly warned. He wasn’t wrong. This line of business wasn’t exactly safe, and I knew I shouldn’t get Y/N involved.

“She already knows too much,” I said, avoiding his eyes as I stared at the floor.

“Det är inte riktigt rätt möblerat på övervåningen hos dig.” Jolly groaned, rubbing his eyes with his palm. Your top floor is not properly furnished (Mind is a mess).

I rolled my eyes, “Oh don’t bring out the Swedish insults you asshat.”

“Well, I suggest you break her heart now before it’s too late.”

I bit my lip as I opened the door, ignoring his burning words.

“Din jävla fubbick,” I heard the swede mutter before I shut the door. You damn moron.

Guilt crept over me like a heavy wave as I walked quickly through the parking lot of the motel. My mind was racing and my hands were slick with sweat.

What am I doing? Jolly was right; Y/N shouldn’t be dragged into this mess. But at the same time, I couldn’t deny the pull towards her. It had been years since I had someone who truly listened to me and understood me. Someone who I could relate to besides my brothers. And she was stunningly beautiful, with her sparkling eyes filled with so much hope; something I aspired to have one day. Maybe I could even share with her one day.

Hope.

You gave me a strength unparalleled But nothing compared to how much I've bled (I feel scared, so scared)

+++++

Y/N

He hasn’t shown up for his coffee again today. Did he regret what happened last night?

I swept between the tables and recalled the previous events. I don’t even know what came over me yesterday, but I do know that I didn’t have any regrets.

I knew my face began to warm as I recalled the way Noah’s fingers dug into my hips, gripping onto me as he pounded into me mercilessly; drowning his sorrows through the pleasure of our bodies.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he stared into me, aching with fervour and hunger, begging me to give everything to him.

I wanna know what it feels like Is it nothing but dreamlike? I wanna touch you now

It was anything but romantic- having a quick fuck in the bathroom of a bar, but I longed for Noah even more after that.

I feel like I’m going crazy. How could he have such a hold over me, especially after finding out he is a criminal? I should be running; so why can’t I let him go?

Lust? Infatuation? Whatever it is, I crave him.

I pushed away my thoughts, finishing the rest of my closing tasks and clocking out. I waved to Annika as I pulled my hoodie over my head, grabbing my bag and de-tangling my earbuds.

As I stepped outside, someone grabbed my hand and tugged me towards them. I let out a surprised squeal as he pulled me into his embrace, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

"Noah?" I looked up at the man above me, admiring the tattoo on his neck before meeting his gaze, feeling a familiar flutter in my heart. His smiling eyes met mine as he wrapped his other arm around me, enveloping me in a warm hug. A grin spread across my face as I buried it in his chest, taking in his surprisingly comforting scent.

"I'm sorry I didn’t come today," Noah murmured into my hair, his breath warm against my scalp. "I had some... business to attend to."

I pulled back slightly, searching his face for any hint of what that "business" might have entailed. His eyes, usually so expressive, were guarded now. A reminder of the dangerous world he inhabited, one I was only beginning to glimpse.

"It's okay," I said, trying to keep my voice light. "I was starting to think you were avoiding me after last night."

Noah's grip on me tightened, and he leaned down to brush his lips against my ear. "Trust me, sweetheart, avoiding you is the last thing on my mind."

A shiver ran through me at his words, at the promise they held. I knew I should be scared, should run far away from this man and the darkness that clung

How can it feel so right? It is nothing but dreamlike I'm gonna touch you now

“But you came now,” I said.

“I wanted to be here for when you got off work,” He said, squeezing me gently before letting go. “Do you want to do something before your next shift?”

I gave him a cheeky grin, “Something?”

Noah's eyes darkened with desire as he caught my meaning. He leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear. "I have a few ideas," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

A thrill shot through me at his words. I knew I was playing with fire, but I couldn't resist the pull between us.

Noah licked his lips before matching my smile, putting his finger through the belt loop of my jeans, and tugging me along beside him as we walked down the sidewalk. I flushed at the gesture as he held me next to him as if claiming me for his own.

“I meant like, dinner,” He hummed, “but I also can’t stop thinking about last night.”

“Come Y/N,” he had said between sucking and squeezing my hips, “be a good girl for me.”

A shudder ran down my spine as my mind wandered, and I peered up at Noah, his cheeks flushing through his confession.

“Me too,” I said softly, “Did you want to come back to my place? We could order takeout… because I need to get my clothes for my next shift.”

“I’d like that,” Noah peered down at me warmly.

We walked together in silence, the only sound the bustle of life that surrounded the sidewalk as we passed various shops, heading towards my neighbourhood. For “level two acquaintances” the silence between the two of us was soothing, something that I think shocked us both.

With a gentle release, Noah loosened his grip on my belt loop, tucking his hands into his pockets. His brow furrowed with deep contemplation and worry as if something was gnawing at him from within. I turned to face him, noticing the slight creases in his forehead and the furrowed lines around his mouth, betraying his inner turmoil

“Did you want to talk about it?” I asked gently, looking ahead as the light breeze slid past my cheeks.

Noah was quiet, eyes darting back and forth, “I trust you so much, and I don’t know why.”

I nodded, agreeing with his concern silently, letting him continue.

“and I don’t know who else to talk to about this with…my brothers are too involved and have enough opinions as it is,” Noah said, following me down the path that led us towards my house.

“Remember how I told you we owe a lot of money to this… guy? Well, this month is supposed to be our last month, and then we are finally free.”

I smiled widely, grabbing Noah’s arm in excitement, shaking him gently, “That’s great news! You’ll be done with it forever!”

Noah chuckled darkly, rolling his head to the side in annoyance, “Yeah, well, there’s a catch.”

My grip on his arm fell, a sullen expression taking over my joy.

“I have to get him twenty thousand, myself. The boys can’t help me.”

“Twenty thousand?” I exclaimed, stopping in my tracks to look at him, “That’s a shit ton of money.”

Noah’s hand ran across his face in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I know. I am beyond fucked.”

I blinked a few times in disbelief as we approached the steps to my house, the greeting of Juice’s trill on the other side of the door inviting us in. Noah was immediately bombarded with cat love and he gave the furry animal a small smile, bending down to scratch the top of his head before running his fingers down Juice’s back.

Closing the door I kicked off my sneakers, hanging my bag on the coat rack. Noah followed, placing his black vans politely by the front door; which was when I noticed a small anklet blinking beneath the hem of his pants.

I stared at it quizzically, and Noah caught my gaze. He lifted his leg, mouth forming a tight line.

“Like my new accessory?” Anger seethed from his tongue as he gave me a sarcastic smile, before standing in front of me, completely defeated.

I led us upstairs into my bedroom, “What is it?”

“A tracker.”

I paused at the top of the stairs and turned to face him, my eyes narrowing in confusion. "What kind of tracker?" I shifted my gaze between Noah and the small device attached to his ankle.

With a heavy sigh, he followed me into my bedroom and flopped onto my bed. His limbs sprawled out as he explained, "The guy we owe money to, D, said we have to wear these trackers to make sure I'm not getting help from the boys. And I have to keep a record of where the money comes from and deposit it weekly to match my location."

"And you just found this out last night?"

His nod was barely perceptible, yet I could see the frustration etched on Noah's face as he closed his eyes tightly. Tears glistened at the corners, threatening to spill over. I stood by the bed, observing as his whole body seemed to crumble before me. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and crawled onto the bed beside him. He shifted over, making room for me as I sat up next to him. Gently, he rested his head on my lap, seeking comfort and solace in my touch as silent tears fell from his lashes.

“I…I’m barely holding on,” He whispered.

My fingers began running through Noah’s scalp, lacing themselves through his chestnut strands in an attempt to soothe him, showing my support. I hear you.

My heart yearned for him once again, filled with sorrow and pain as he suffered in torment, dealing with the burden of his demons. Noah didn’t deserve this. He was young when he fucked up, and he hasn’t been able to escape. I saw myself within his pain, my past mirroring back at me.

“I just keep hoping that one day I’ll have something else motivating me- something more than fear, more than spite. I wanna feel like I’m living.”

I listened to Noah’s words as they resonated with me. I too, wanted to feel like I was living.

I had never been part of the right crowd, and I was always getting into trouble, due to the influence of my previous relationships. I followed their shenanigans because I had nobody else to model- and I made some poor choices. I chose to follow them.

However, I also chose to leave- to start fresh and to forget about my past. People can change, and people can grow, and Noah deserved the same opportunity. He was being puppeteered by an evil man; and I wanted to help him escape, as much as he wanted his freedom.

I chewed my cheek in contemplation, fingers still stroking his hair, “let me help you, Noah.”

“Help with what?”

“The money. You don’t deserve to do it alone.”

Noah sat up now, watching me intensely from across the bed, “You’ve built yourself a new life Y/N. Don’t fuck it up now.”

He was right. Why was I willing to risk it all?

“I’ve been willing to fuck it up the second I saw you at the cafe,” I traced his face, analyzing his expression before my mind wandered to an idea; one so insane I couldn't even believe I was about to suggest this.

“I’m going to sound crazy, and I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” I hesitated for a moment, sucking in a breath between my teeth, “but why don't you come live with me? You and your brothers?”

Noah’s eyes widened, lips parting slightly in perplexity. He blinked a few times, and I continued my thought.

“You won’t need to pay rent or anything, so you guys can save money to pay this D guy faster. The motel money probably adds up.”

Noah slid off the bed, standing up abruptly, folding his arms over his body in defence, “You cannot be serious,” he laughed with incredulity.

“Listen, Noah,” I scooted to sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at him, “I was stuck for a long time, and I didn’t have a helping hand… but I have enough to offer you. I know what it’s like to struggle.”

Noah’s fingers ran through his hair as he began pacing, shaking his head, “I don’t need your pity Y/N.”

“This isn’t pity, I swear,” I stood up, approaching Noah gently, holding both of his biceps to keep him in place from his anxious wading, “I wished someone had helped me when I needed it.”

He stared down at me in complete disbelief, his eyes scanning mine for any signs of doubt; but I remained confident in my suggestion, staring at him assuringly.

“so let me help you,” I whispered, reaching up to place a gentle hand on his cheek. With a racing heart, I rubbed my thumb across his skin, bewildered at my words.

He closed his eyes in conflict and placed a hand on top of my own, clammy and nervous.

“Why are you helping a monster?” Noah breathed, leaning into my touch, curious eyes observing me.

“Everyone deserves help. You deserve it.”

What are we allowed to do? What are we allowed to be?

“You’re not a monster Noah,” placing a hand on his other cheek, I stood on my tiptoes, pulling him down towards me, kissing the tip of his nose delicately.

I wanna cross the line with you Let's pass the point of no return

Noah watched me with pure awe, matching me by grabbing either side of my face, and placing his forehead on my own, “You are fucking crazy.”

Is this wrong? I don't wanna know A big mistake? I don't wanna know

I chuckled softly, “I completely agree with you, I think I am insane for offering this.”

I wanna know what it feels like Is it nothing but dreamlike? I wanna touch you now

Noah laughed quietly with me, still in complete doubt. His eyes kept trailing between my own and my lips, as if trying not to kiss me, before giving in.

How can it feel so right? It is nothing but dreamlike I'm gonna touch you now

Noah's lips pressed against mine with a tender urgency, as if longing to convey all the emotions he couldn't put into words. The warmth of his touch seeped through my skin and I felt myself melting into him. Our kiss deepened, the intensity building between us like an invisible electric current.

We stood there, locked in each other's embrace for what felt like an eternity before Noah pulled away, his eyes still fixed on mine. His thumb gently caressed my bottom lip, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. He leaned his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin as we stayed entwined in our own little world of shared desire.

“I’m sorry, not sorry for breaking into your house; because otherwise, we wouldn’t be here,” Noah said.

“I forgive you, clearly,” I laughed, “but you could always try to make it up to me again if you feel like it?”

Noah let out a puff of air, hands running down my neck along my curves, resting at the top of my hips, “I like that idea.”

I grinned at him, my hands resting at the back of his tattooed neck, the apple and snake teasing me.

Noah's warm breath tickled my ear as he leaned in close. "I can't stop thinking about how you taste," he whispered, referring to our one brief encounter. I moaned softly as he hungrily kissed me again, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. Our heads tilted and we shared passionate open-mouthed kisses, devouring each other in the moment. Noah pressed his hips against mine, causing a soft moan to escape from my throat. As much as I wanted to continue, I couldn't ignore the fact that I had to go to work soon.

I pushed his chest gently, “It’s already 6… I need to leave for work in half an hour.”

Noah gave me a sly smile, “You underestimating my skills?”

I chuckled, “Not at all.”

“I bet I could make you come in two minutes,” His fingers trailed up the sides of my torso, fingers tracing circles across the skin.

I hummed, “Hmm, what do I get if you can’t?”

Noah leaned towards my ear, fingers squeezing right below my chest, “then I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk, and you’ll come again.”

My body shivered from his words, and my stomach began to swirl with excitement as Noah’s hands worshiped my body, whispering lustful promises as he peppered kisses down my neck. Noah peeked over at the clock on my nightstand briefly.

“6:04.”

I closed my eyes as my breath quickened, following Noah towards the wall. My back pressed against it as he pushed against me, his body radiating heat. He gripped my wrists and pinned them above my head, holding me in place while his other hand trailed down to my waistline, igniting my desire.

I succumbed to Noah’s touch as his touch slid through me, circling and prodding. Whatever he was doing left me completely giving in to his caress; the fact both of us were still completely clothed made this moment that much more invigorating.

Noah’s teeth hooked on my bottom lip as he ravaged my mouth. I moaned earnestly as his fingers sank through my slick, curling towards my need. His palm pushed against me, rubbing and maintaining a repetitive pattern, and my legs began to give out. How he could make me surrender with his hand alone had me flustered.

(I'm in a) (I'm in a) (I'm in a) I'm in a, I'm in a dreamlike state

I rutted my hips towards his touch and Noah smiled into my lips, “so needy,” he mumbled.

I sighed eagerly as he continued his method, my body trembling in response, close to my release.

“C’mon princess, you can do it,” Noah muttered, trailing his lips down my neck towards my collarbone, before snagging his teeth on a sensitive spot. He sucked and nibbled at my skin, branding me.

I didn’t even care, exhilaration taking over.

Noah slipped his fingers out, sliding them up until he reached the top, pressing the pad of his fingers and circling them quickly. I shuddered, my body crumbling as I cried out his name.

Can it feel so right? It is nothing but dreamlike I'm gonna touch you now

Noah smiled into me again as his head lay pressed against my neck, satisfied and prideful of his actions.

My chest heaved as I came down from the high, folding off of the wall into his arms. I clutched onto his sweater for support, turning my head to the clock. 6:08

“That was four minutes,” I panted.

“Looks like I owe you,” Noah’s smug smile said it all.

I chuckled, looking up at him, eyes dilated with satisfaction “Oh, what a shame.”

Noah grinned, the whites of his teeth making my heart flutter. He sat on my bed, adjusting himself in his pants before watching me pace around my room, picking out my work clothes.

I opted for leggings and a square-cut long-sleeve. I took the clothes out of my closet, holding them to my chest before turning around.

“Uh…” I looked at the brunette, his hair cascading down his face perfectly, “Do you uhm, can you turn around?”

Noah choked out a laugh, “huh? you do realize that I’ve seen you like, partially naked? And just touched you?”

My face flushed, “Yeah… but still.”

Noah chuckled, obliging as he turned around on the bed to face the wall. I began stripping, pulling my leggings up before changing my shirt. I peered at Noah, noticing his head whip back around.

“Hey!” I laughed, “No peaking!”

Noah turned around once I was dressed, sticking his tongue out playfully, “Whatever do you mean?”

I rolled my eyes as Noah stood up, scratching the back of his neck, “I’d say we’ve at least levelled up to buddies.”

Yea, fuck buddies?

I hummed, “I agree, definitely more than level-two acquaintances.”

Noah nodded at me with a lighthearted glare, “Friends would be too far right now.”

“Definitely,” I mimicked his expression before leading us down the stairs.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to eat,” I said, “but if you want, you could come to the bar?”

“I’d like that,” Noah bent down to slip on his vans as I put on my black Converse.

I chewed my lip, “Did you want to invite your friends? Maybe talk about the offer?”

Noah stood up, frowning, “Y/N- I couldn’t do that to you.”

“Well, at least ask them, see what they say,” I looked at him with a serious expression, “I wasn’t kidding with the offer. I have the basement finished but unfurnished; and a spare bedroom upstairs. You guys would have your own space.”

Noah stared at the floor, kicking up the side of the carpet nervously, “I mean I’ll talk to them.”

I couldn’t help but smile widely, “Please do. Now lets go or I’ll be late.”

+++++

NOAH

Ruffilo, Jolly, Folio and I sat in a booth at Sammy’s, with the trio observing me intently as I recounted the situation. "She offered us a place to stay for free," I whispered to my companions, stealing glances at Y/N as she attended to customers. Her hair, a lovely shade of H/C, framed her face delicately, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight of her genuine and radiant smile as she served drinks to the woman in front of her. She brought light and charisma into the room with her presence, igniting an incandescence that was hard to ignore.

“No fucking way we are doing that,” Jolly said, glancing at Y/N briefly before folding his arms, sinking into the leather of the booth.

“I mean,” Nick began, looking between us, “This would help us out a lot Jolly.”

“-and Noah,” Nicholas said, “Like we pay roughly 130 bucks a night. That’s $3,900 we’d save him right there.”

All of us peered over at Y/N, and she lifted her head, giving us all a smile.

“Why would she do that for you? For us? What’s in it for her?” Jolly said, skeptical.

I had no fucking idea why she would, but I was desperate for any amount of help I could get.

I shrugged, “I don’t know.”

She was selfless, enigmatic, and completely sublime.

“How long have you known her?” Nick raised a brow, plucking a fry from the plate in the middle of us.

I winced, “Er, two days?”

Folio’s eyes bulged out of his head as he leaned forward, chest pressed into the table, “Ain’t no fucking way this is real. She has to be getting something out of it.”

Jolly snorted, “yea, his dick.”

I scoffed, rolling my head back dramatically, “Oh fuck off !”

“That’s not what the hickey on her neck-”

“Oh, Can it Jolly, have any of you ever thought that maybe Y/N is just a nice person?

I reached for a fry and dunked it in ketchup before taking a bite. "People like us don't deserve kindness." Ruffilo glanced at me, clearly disappointed. "Don't say that. We've done some questionable things, but it's how we survive." "And besides," added Folio, "we can't offer financial assistance. D doesn't even know Y/N exists, so he wouldn't suspect any involvement from us." Nicholas nodded in agreement.

I watched the three of them as they gave me a sullen smile, “I’m worried D will be suspicious that our locations will move though; and that it will put her in danger.”

“She must know there’s a risk, considering you filled her in on everything,” Nick took a sip of his beer.

“Why she’s willing to risk everything she’s worked towards beats me,” I said, sighing heavily.

“Worked towards?” Nicholas asked.

The boys waited for me to answer.

She bargains with the world So everything she wants will come to her With no greed inside her mind She knows what she deserves

“She’s been through some fucked up shit I guess, but she saved a bunch of money and moved here to start over her life. She works two jobs almost every day to afford everything,” I looked back at Y/N for a prolonged period, my heart beating quickly, “She just kept telling me she knows what it’s like, and she wished people helped her.”

“So pity?” Jolly gave me a sarcastic smile, nodding rapidly.

“No,” I defended, “because she is a generous person.”

We remained silent, chewing our food quietly before Jolly spoke.

“Well, I suppose it’s worth a shot,” He said, eying the fries before staring at me, “for Noah.”

“Yeah, for me, but also you guys. She offered it to all of us,” I said.

Nicholas looked over at her warmly, “That’s kind of her. Really kind.”

We fell from sky with grace And landed in her soft and warm embrace She gave her love, her gift of life So we could live with her

I stood up, walking towards the bar, sitting on a stool in front of her. She nodded to another customer before smiling at me, waltzing over.

“So?” She bit her lip, almost looking hopeful.

I picked at the resin counter, my nail grinding within a divot in the material as I distracted myself from her, “How early can we move in?”

“Tonight if you want.”

Y/N and I shared a look before I nodded, giving a gentle laugh, “Okay. Want to meet your new roommates? Considering you haven’t even met the guys you offered your entire life to.”

Y/N laughed, “yea. I’m realizing how crazy I sound the more realistic this becomes.”

I motioned for the boys to come over and they did, each with a beer in their hand, sitting on either side of me along the counter.

Y/N gave them a sunny grin, introducing herself.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Nicholas said politely.

“You as well,” she nodded, before looking at Folio.

“I’m Nick, Nick folio,” He held out his hand, wrapping around her own and shaking.

She then moved to Jolly, who gave her a curt smile. Although he was stand-off-ish, she greeted him warmly.

“Joakim, but call me Jolly,”

“So, tonight?” I eyed everyone, who all turned to look at Y/N.

She shrugged, “I’m off at midnight. I can help take stuff over.”

“Well, we don’t exactly have a lot. We can probably take everything in two trips,” Nick said.

“I can help, I’ll meet you guys at the motel.”

+++++

We carefully packed all of our belongings into our backpacks and suitcases, and my chest tightened as I realized that we were leaving the place we had called 'home' for the past few years.

Nick shook his head in disbelief as he played Tetris with our belongings, fitting them perfectly into our vehicle.

"I have to admit," Nicholas said as he helped Jolly carry out their old guitars, "It will be a nice change to live in an actual house for a while."

“Good point,” Jolly mumbled, “But I’m still suspicious.”

That is why we live like heathens Stealing from the trees of Eden

Y/N made it over to the motel around 12:30, and we packed her car as well.

All of us stood outside the motel, part of us grieving for departing what we’ve always known; the other relishing in gratitude for this new opportunity.

Y/N placed a hand on my shoulder as I stared at the motel door plaintively.

Living in the arms of freedom And everything we touch is evil That is why we live like heathens

I gave her a sorrowful smile before nodding at my brothers, “Y/N will lead the way.”

As I sat in the passenger seat of Y/N's car, my eyes drifted to the window as we drove past towering buildings and bustling streets toward her neighbourhood; our new home. My heart was filled with both excitement and disbelief - how did I get so lucky to have this amazing woman in my life?

Once we arrived and entered the house, Juice, the friendly orange fur ball, greeted us at the door and immediately won over the boys with his playful antics. Y/N proudly gave us a tour of her humble abode before leading us down to the basement. As she had mentioned, it was bare and unfurnished, save for a few scattered cardboard boxes and a pristine rack of guitars that caught my eye. The room echoed with potential and possibility, just waiting to be transformed into our own personal haven.

“Holy shit- is that a Martin D-41?” Jolly immediately smiled, walking over to assess the guitars, “and an Ernie Ball Music Man John Petrucci Majesty?”

“Damn, and a Gibson Thunderbird IV Bass?” Ruffilo joined in on the geek sesh, both of them giddy.

Y/N laughed, “Wow, you must know your stuff. Those were my dads, he was really into music.”

She walked over, grazing her fingers across the strings, “I’ve kept them in his memory, but I have no idea how to play.”

I watched her as she picked up the Martin, handing it to Jolly, “feel free to use them whenever you want; they deserve some love, they were made to be played.”

Jolly’s lips fell open before he smiled warmly, gazing at the guitar, “You’re so fucking cool.”

We all chuckled and I watched Y/N in awe as she interacted with my brothers, taking them in and treating them as if she’d known us all for years.

The stone, the dirt, the dust The unforgiving promise made to us Unworthy of your light, your god, your touch We're guided by the lust

“I only have one blow-up mattress I take camping, but there is a bed in the spare room, and the couch in the living room…” She looked between the four of us until her eyes landed on me.

“Uh,” Her cheeks flushed as she spoke, “we can always share my bed tonight until I can pick up a couple of mattresses…”

We cry the fallen names We cry for those who burned beneath the flame We stand besides the good and brave The broken and enslaved

My face warmed along with her and I coughed, straightening up, “Yeah, no worries.”

The boys watched us, a low chuckle leaving Folio. Y/N grabbed spare blankets, pillows and the blow-up mattress from the closet. She set up the bed, which Jolly dibsed. Nick took the couch, and Nicholas took the spare room down the hall from Y/N’s.

Y/N and I went into her room and she shut the door quietly, turning around, sighing.

“Well,” she blew out a puff of air, giving me a kind smile, “this is interesting.”

I nodded, following her with my eyes as she began getting ready for bed, brushing her H/C hair, and wiping off her makeup for the day. I admired her beauty, staring at her with reverence. She was brilliant.

“I-I can sleep on the floor Y/N. I don’t mind,” I whispered as she slid an oversized t-shirt over her frame, stripping off her work attire.

I licked my lips, swallowing harshly before averting my eyes, reminding myself that now was not the time to get worked up. She had to be at the cafe in a few hours.

Juice purred as he curled into a bed next to her windowsill, eying us from the corner.

Y/N turned off her main light, flicking on a dim lamp that cascaded a soft orange aura across the room before she crawled into bed, opening the covers and patting next to her.

“You can sleep with me, it’s okay.”

My feet shuffled restlessly as I adjusted my hoodie, draping it over the chair by her vanity along with my jeans. Just a few hours ago, I was pressing her against the wall, consumed by passion and filled with confidence. Yet now, I felt shy and vulnerable. It was strange how this simple act of sleeping in a bed with her felt more intimate than the sexual encounter we had shared earlier.

Her love is yours But only if you give your heart to her

I walked over to her, sliding myself between her covers, and lay as close to the edge as possible.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” She mumbled, jumping out of bed and leaving towards the bathroom, returning shortly with a bottle of pills and a cup of water.

She opened the bottle, turned around and placed one on her tongue before taking a swig of water. I watched as she placed her pills on her desk, before hopping back into bed.

That is why we live like heathens Stealing from the trees of Eden Living in the arms of freedom And everything we touch is evil

She crawled underneath the covers, snuggling into the duvet as she lay on her side, facing me.

We remained silent for a few moments before she asked me a question in a small voice, “Is it ok if the light stays on?”

I preferred the lights off, but I wasn’t going to share my preference; I was invading her space.

“I have trouble sleeping,” She whispered.

“Of course it’s ok,” I said, pulling the covers over my shoulders.

“Okay,” her eyes fluttered open and closed, fighting against sleep, “goodnight Noah.”

I watched as her lashes touched the tops of her cheeks, her eyebrows releasing tension from the day, lips parted gently as sleep took over.

My eyes danced across her features, completely captivated. Y/N breathed slowly, and my hand subconsciously reached over, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear as I endeared over her.

“you’re my saving grace,” I whispered as I stroked her hair, still completely baffled this was all happening.

I watched her for a moment longer before I turned over, facing the door and her desk. My eyes trailed over to the bottle that rested on her desk, the yellow plastic alluring. Zolpidem. 700 dollars right there.

Destruction. Crime. Greed.

That is why we live like heathens That is why we live like heathens That is why we live like heathens

Chapter 6

Tags:@crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken

@princessmarshmallowx @laurpartyprogram @cookiesupplier @nojoyontheburn @lacktoesandtoddlerant

@veronicaphoenix @er3nslovergirl @cncohshit @scrumptiousfestivalpost @melcchs

@flowery-mess @mentallynot-here @judging-from-afar @darkmxgician @badomensls

@hoe-for-daddywise @philomenie @xxkittenkissesxx @venturethroughtheveil @thefallennightmare

@blend-in-with-the-madness @reyadawn @deathblacksmoke @anameunmusical @sitkowski

@anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @rumoured-whispers @artificialbreezy

#burning out fanfic #sorrows of silence #bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian davis #metalcore #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian smut #nicholas ruffilo #crime #criminals #money heist #heist

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leahnardo-da-veggie · 3 months ago

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The Tragedy of Love, Death and Maggots part 10

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

This time, I didn't protest. My foolishness had cost us enough. Between the pillars and our running, I caught only glimpses of the thing wearing Athena's body. It stretched lasciviously, throwing uneven arms back and grinning ear to ear, quite literally. The foul worms that made up her flesh multiplied, spreading and growing like a miasma, until she was the height of two men.

The Lady, or whatever I was to call this abomination, was beautiful like a statue, all elegant and evocative and ethereal, if statues writhed and crawled upon itself and wore a smile that split its face ear to ear. It looked nothing like the girl I knew. And it was gazing down at where I knew Brett to be.

“Shit,” Mrin snarled, forcing us both to a halt behind a crumbling wall. “They're blocking us.”

Indeed, there were hundreds of cultists standing around her, watching their goddess in blind ecstasy. A few had their hooks in Brett, baring him before her like her very first sacrifice.

I wanted to scream, to beg him to cut loose and run, but Brett stood there steadily, light ringing his golden hair like an angel's halo.

Athena, or the thing wearing her face, grabbed his wrists, claws the size of knives digging into the open wounds. “Brett,” she cooed, swaying with delight. “You came looking for me.” The maggots churned and coursed, making her facade of a woman ripple.

He nodded unsteadily. “'thena, I know this isn't you, alright? Snap out of it,” he said, not a trace of fear in his voice. “We're here for you, me and Doc and Mrin. I'm here for you. We believe in you.”

For a moment, she froze. I thought- I hoped, against all hope, that it had worked, that the power of love would triumph.

Then that horrible mass of writhing rot grinned. “How cute. How darling. Why, I could just eat you up, dearie,” she exclaimed.

Then she did, her swarm bending down towards his face. Brett's scream was cut off abruptly as she pressed her lips to his, kissing him deeper than she ever had. He squirmed in her grip as wave after wave of larvae poured down his throat, gnawing and gulping down his innards. I caught flashes of red as he was engulfed, each quickly overwhelmed by the swarm.

It was too much, just too much, and I bent over, heaving my guts onto the floor. It tasted like Brett's screams, wet and sour and horrified.

I would have sat there retching my wretched lunchless guts out until she found me, had Mrin not dragged me back. She might have been smaller than me by a half, but she made up for it with her sheer persistence.

“Doc, don't do this. We need to get out of here, and we need to do it now.” Her voice, normally so calm, was tinged with panic. “Come on, be a dear. Get up. Keep moving.”

I lurched along with her, leaning on her shoulder, leaving behind the two people who had been a staple of our lives.

Fun fact! This was the scene that the entire story is written around. This means I'm approximately half done. We have another 5 thousand words to go. This frightens me :/

Taglist: @coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch

@tragedycoded, @finickyfelix, @urnumber1star, @ratedn, @ramwritblr

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west, @differentnighttale

@evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms, @xenascribbles

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable, @paeliae-occasionally, @an-indecisive-nerd, @thecomfywriter

@seastarblue, @wyked-ao3

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

#writing #writeblr #writerscommunity #my writing #creative writing #writing community #spilled ink #fantasy #short story #Horror

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imthebadguyyy · 3 years ago

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You're All Mine

Pairing - Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Fandom - F1

Summary - Things get slightly out of hand at a party where you decide to act up, and Lewis shows you just exactly who you belong to. P.S - He makes you wear that damn jacket.

Warnings - smut, swearing, possessiveness (brought to you by the fashion king that is Sir Lewis Hamilton, because that jacket did things okay?

A/N- OC (Thomas) has nothing to do with any of Lewis's friends in real life.

Also shoutout to @grandestrategia and @lights-out-in-monaco for helping me 💙

✯⌃⌄☼♥︎

iThrowing a party to get together was always a fun idea to get the chance to socialize, meet new people, dance, get drunk and spend quality time with your friends and family. But throwing a party after three back to back race weeks was not really a great idea, mainly because it meant your boyfriend groaning and moaning about how he didn't want to spend time with anyone else but you. That was exactly what was happening at present, as you swiped a tube of crimson lipstick across your lips, while Lewis sat on the bed, in a black shirt and his purple customised jacket, with his arms crossed across his chest, reminding you of a toddler who was told to go to bed early.

"I don't get why you had to throw a party today, of all times" he grumbled for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "Okay baby, I love you, I really do, but I swear, if you say that one more time I will strangle you" you replied, setting the lipstick back down, and reaching for a bottle of perfume on your dressing table. "I'm just saying, I feel like spending time with you now, and yes, I love that you decided to call my friends and family over, but I kinda just wanted to have some you and me time" he said, eyes following your movements as you sprayed the perfume behind your ears, on your wrists, and lightly over your body, "You'll have me to yourself from the moment they leave, till you have to fly for your race again. And I promise, we can do whatever you want" you said, reaching up to smooth your hair. Far too preoccupied with fixing the flyaway strands of hair, you didn't notice him standing up and standing right behind you. "Whatever I want hmm? I know exactly what I want baby. But I just can't get it right now. You know why? Because I want to bend you over and take you right here, right now. But because you decided to throw a party instead of spending time together, you'll have to wait a little longer than necessary to have my head in between your thighs, my fingers in you, and my cock in your cunt. And guess whose fault it is? Yours, my darling. It's your fault" he growled in your ear, smirking when a soft moan slipped past your lips.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? For me to bend you over and take you here? When our guests could be here at any minute?" he continued, lips resting just near the outer shell of your ear. You couldn't even answer, feeling the arousal grow in between your thighs, as your heartbeat seemed to slow down for just a second, before it seemed to hammer against your chest almost as if it wanted to just burst out of your chest. "Tell me darling. Would you like that?" "Ye-" your reply was cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing, signalling the arrival of one of your guests. "Saved by the bell, hmm? You didn't have to answer. But I promise baby, when they're gone, I'm gonna make you scream my name so loud, if our neighbours aren't on a first name basis with us tomorrow, I'll be very, very surprised. And leaving you a aroused, horny mess, he went down to open the door.

✯⌃⌄☼♥︎

About half an hour later, the party was in full swing. You had invited some of your friends and some family members, and turning to look over your shoulder, you saw Lewis chatting with his dad and Nicolas, a glass of wine in his hand as he laughed at something his brother told him. Smiling, you turned back, to see one of Lewis's friends making his way over to you, two glasses of champagne in his hand. You enjoyed mingling with his friends, and you had met Neymar Jr, Odell Beckham Junior, and other really awesome people. Smiling at Thomas, who was one of Lewis's newer friends, you accepted the glass, your third glass of champagne and your fifth drink all together, hovering between the lines of tipsy and drunk.

Thomas, (the friend, idk I just made him up) offered you a glass of champagne, and you gladly took a sip, enjoying the buzz as the alcohol ran through your veins, filling you with a calm happiness. Maybe it was the alcohol in your veins and the promise of a really good time that made you decide to push Lewis's buttons just a little bit, to ensure that you were really in for it. Giggling at a joke his friend made, you threw your head back laughing, letting your hand rest on Thomas's shoulder, before letting it move to your hair, twirling a strand of hair around your finger, teeth sinking softly down onto your lower lip.

From where he was standing, Lewis looked over to see where you were, his grip on his glass tightening when he saw you laugh and rest your hand on his friend's shoulder. His eyes darkening when he saw you twirl a strand of hair around your finger, and bite your lip softly, knowing all too well what you were doing. It was working. As you giggled again, tilting your head back laughing, and nodding a quick 'I'll be back soon', to his dad, he walked towards the both of you, his eyes fixed on the way you kept twirling your hair around your fingers.

"Hi baby. You having a fun time?" he asked you, standing next to you and wrapping an arm around your waist. "Yeah I am! Are you having fun?" you replied, letting your head droop onto his shoulder. "Yeah I am my love, thank you so much for planning it" he murmured in your ear, ignoring the fact that his friend was standing right in from of him, probably getting a free show. His hands splayed out on the leathery material of your black skirt, enjoying the coolness of the material and the feel of a section of your skin against his palms. The black outfit you had put on was a black leather top and skirt, that clung onto your body like a vice, as he moved his hand to the back of your skirt, moving so Thomas couldn't see what he was doing.

"And what about you Thomas, are you having a good time?" you asked the man, feeling Lewis tense up behind you. "Yup I am! Thanks so much for inviting us all, its a great party" he replied, flashing the both of you a smile. "We're glad you're having fun" Lewis replied, his hand moving to your ass, squeezing ever so discreetly. "Yup I know! Great to see you too, man! Your last races have been great, you deserve a break" Thomas kept talking, blissfully unaware of how you were squirming, your arousal pooling in between your thighs as he ran his fingers up your thighs, in between your underwear and the skirt. He moved his body so the lower half of your body was not visible to anyone else.

Pressing your lips together to keep a sound from escaping, you tried your hardest to hold yourself together, but it was damn hard when you could begin to feel the liquid threatening to run down your thighs and make a mess in front of everyone. "Moving your hand to the back to squeeze his thigh, silently begging him to just take you to the bedroom and fuck you senseless. Feeling your desperation, Lewis smirked softly, before turning to Thomas. "If you don't mind Thomas, I think I left my phone in the bedroom, I'll just go get it" "Yeah sure" Thomas replied, as you turned and made your way up the stairs to the master bedroom. But before you could go and sit on the bed, a pair of arms grabbed you around your waist, and pulled you into the master bathroom that was connected to your room.

Lewis turned your body around, the rough movement taking your breath away, before he crashed his lips down onto yours, his hands sliding down to your as again, squeezing hard, causing a moan to slip out your lips, your arms tightening around his neck. "I saw you trying to rile me up baby. All giggly and flirty, and that whole fiasco with you messing with your hair, hmm? Only I can pull your hair, and only I can tug on it. You like it when I do that, don't you? When I tug your hair, and your head falls back, and those sounds slip out of your lips and I can see how much you like it" The moan that slipped past your lips went straight to his cock, hardening under his pants.

"Words baby, words. Do you like it?" he asked, his fingers running along the waistband of your leather skirt, tugging the skirt down your legs. "I do, I really do! please, please do something, I need you so bad" you whined, your hands unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt, and tugging his purple jacket down his shoulders. "Patience my baby. Good things take time. So desperate for it, I can see your wetness dripping, but you aren't getting off that easily after that stunt you pulled. But I promised you that I'd give you a good time, and I always keep my promises" Another desperate whimper left your lips, and you dragged the jacket down his torso, letting it drop to the floor.

"No no no. I want you to put that on. Or even better..." he mumbled finishing his sentence halfway, picking up the jacket from the floor. He pushed you down on the bed, grabbing your wrists in his hands, before pushing you back up to the headboard. Then he took the jacket up to your hands, tying one side to the headboard of the King sized bed, and the other end around your hands. "There we go, all tied up and gorgeous for me. Do your wrists burn with my name baby? Do you like how my name is tied onto your skin?" he asked, eyeing how the 'HAMILTON' part of the jacket was tied around your wrist. "I bet you like it don't you? That stinging sensation? I cannot wait to taste you my love, all wet and dripping for me" he continued, moving down to press his lips to your neck. He pushed his tongue out onto your skin, sucking the spot before licking over the spot repeatedly, letting his teeth sink onto a pulse point, shifting in his pants when his cock twitched at the moan that fell from your lips.

He ventured lower and lower, till he reached your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth, licking the sensitive nub, letting his teeth graze your areola. Above him, you were struggling against your bonds, wrists straining against their restraints., desperate to touch him, to feel his skin and his glorious muscles under your hands, but you couldn't, because your hands were bound, literally, "Oh my god please Lew, please let me touch you, please I need to touch you baby" "Not yet princess. You were a bad girl, and bad girls get punished my love. I'm not going to let you even graze my hand, if you don't shut that pretty little mouth of yours, before I do it for you" he growled back, feeling his own arousal grow as you whimpered again. He let his fingers fondle your other nipple, tweaking and pulling before taking it into his mouth too, as you felt the wetness run down your leg, soaking into the bedsheet.

Moaning again, you pressed your thighs together, desperate for some friction to relieve you of the throbbing pain in your core, the amount of arousal you were feeling making you feel like you were drowning in some sort of strong sea current, as Lewis's lips travelled lower, and his breath fanned over your throbbing cunt. "I can't wait to taste you my love" and with that he dived in, giving you almost no time to adjust, as he fucked you with his tongue, and his fingers toyed with your clit, sending you towards your high, before biting the sensitive bud softly "You taste like fucking candy love" "Oh fuck fuck fuck Lewis, I'm gonna -" you managed to gasp out as the gasp turned into scream of frustration when he pulled away. "What the fuck? Why'd you do that?!" you gasped out, chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Because like I told you, bad girls get punished" he replied, shoving his pants down his legs, before leaning over and grabbing a condom, pulling his calvin keins down his thighs, as his cock sprang free, smirking when you moaned at the sight, "Taking a good look baby?" he asked, crawling over to you. "You're just really gorgeous" you replied, straining against the jacket. "I know" he replied, pushing his rings off of his fingers. "No don't. Keep on em. I like em" you said, earning a smirk from the man again. "Want me to fuck you with my rings on? I'd love to" he said, watching as you squirmed again.

"Baby please let me touch you, I want to touch you so bad, please!" you practically begged, tears of frustration filling your eyes. "No baby. I'm going to fuck you with your hands tied and I'm going to mark you up" he replied, sliding the condom on and leaning over you, positioning his cock at your entrance. "Ready baby?" he asked,smiling a little as you nodded, the both of you moaning in sync when he pushed into you, your walls clenching onto his cock, as he settled into you, moaning when he sunk into you bit by bit. He gave you a few seconds to adjust, before he pulled out, making you let out half a moan and look at him questioningly, before he slammed back into you. You weren't expecting that, and a strangled scream left your lips when he filled you to the hilt, before bottoming out in you, hips snapping repeatedly into you, his cock moving inside you.

You moans and groans echoed off the walls, as your hands burned, the desperation in you threatening to drown you again. "oh my god, you feel so good, you fuck me so good, now baby please let me touch you!" you practically screamed, your voice catching when he angled his thrusts so the tip hit your g spot repeatedly. "Okay my love, you deserve it now. My baby desreves to touch me now, doesn't she?" "Yes please, especially when you fuck me this good, almost too good to be true" you stammered out clenching down on his cock again, feeling the slight stutter of his hips as you did. Lewis reached up to untie you, letting the jacket fall to the floor, and moaning when your hands dug into his back, scratching down his back, as he hissed at the feeling, loving the feeling of your nails raking down his back. "Fuck baby, do that again" he growled. "Only if you choke me" you moaned back, feeling him stutter again, and let out a moan.

His eyes widened, not completely used to you being so bold, but loving the wild side you let out. He reached up, wrapping his hand around your neck and squeezing a little, groaning when you let out a choked moan. "Harder" you moaned, feeling his cock twitch in you. "Oh fucking hell baby, I didn't know you liked it rough" he moaned, tightening his grip on your neck, cutting the air off ever so softly, snapping his hips into you faster, as your nails raked down your back even harder, leaving marks that would definitely hurt the next morning.

"That feels so good, oh my god, I love you so much" you gasped out wrapping your hand around his, causing him to squeeze a little harder. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum my love" Lewis moaned, groaning when you moved your hips thrusting up to meet his thrusts. 'Oh fuck" Lewis groaned, before releasing into you ,his finger reaching down to rub your clit repeatedly. Your moans echoed in the room, as he pinched your clit, as you squirted all over his cock.

Panting, Lewis sunk down next to you, chest rising and falling. "That was so good" you gasped out, resting your head on his chest. "Was that too much? Did I hurt you?" he asked, kissing your forehead. "No no I loved it. You should do that more often" you mumbled. Just as Lewis leaned in to kiss you, there was a knock at the door, making the both of you jump apart. "Are the both of you done yet?" a voice asked, making you blush. "Oh my god. We forgot about the guests!" you gasped, making Lewis laugh, as he kissed you softly. "I know which one I'd rather do again" he mumbled, laughing when you kissed him back. "Don't go for round two, atleast let us leave first!" the voice yelled again, as Lewis stood up from the bed to get dressed.

"Oh and by the way, you're wearing that jacket downstairs"

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader smut #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton blurb #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 drivers x reader #lewis hamilton fluff

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sukirichi · 4 years ago

Text

personal disaster

Toji took the personal invitation to be your personal disaster.

REQUEST. toxic toji + enemies to greater enemies + toji railing reader in front of someone they’re seeing because he doesn’t want to see you happy but he doesn’t want to “keep” you either

PAIRINGS. toxic toji x reader x mafia! leader noritoshi kamo (he’s just witnessing the fun, dw)

CONTENT/WARNINGS: rough sex, slight bloodplay, violence, toxic toji, toxic and abusive relationships, choking, begging kink (you’ll be surprised in what way), degradation, mass murder, mentions of blood, cuckolding, overstimulation, reader is kind of crazy, hate fucking, neck slicing, IT’S DARK okay? unedited too, sorry for typos and grammatical errors

WC: 3.5k+

masterlist !

Your arm looped with your fiancé’s, his possessive arm wrapped around your waist. He glared at everyone who stared at you with a lust filled gaze, his cold eyes alone enough to send his people staring at the ground with a tug of their jackets to hide their erection. You almost felt bad for them, knowing that they always saw how your pussy took Noritoshi’s cock so well, but that was it.

They could only see but never had a taste of the specimen you were because you were the mafia leader’s fiancé, soon to be the Queen of his empire while you sat pretty next to him, getting richer and richer with each passing second before you fulfilled your duty and birthed him an heir.

Noritoshi wasn’t in a rush, though. He was a man of sensual pleasure, wanting to take his time with you and getting to know you, and take his time he did.

There was not a day that he didn’t have you moaning under his silk sheets, wrists already chafed from the handcuffs he insisted on using you, simply because he was a man who liked to exert dominance and craved being in power. You never denied him – how could you when all you had to do was spread your legs and you got that coin?

You were beyond a slut for him, however, and this much was clear when Noritoshi announced that you were his and his only.

When even that didn’t deter the curious hands of his people from pumping their cocks at the thought of you, Noritoshi have had enough. He roughly slammed his lips to yours before he melted at the sweetness of your lips, soon turning gentle before he slipped a ring inside your finger to make it official.

Noritoshi, dramatic as ever, wanted everyone to know about this engagement as loudly as he could without opening his mouth.

Your fiancé had a flare for the theatrics, which was why he didn’t blink an eye as he got you an expensive designer dress, hand-stitched, and flaunting you around – flaunting his soon to be wife hanging off of his arm proudly.

He guided you into his limousine until you reached a night sky nightclub that was notorious for its luxury. Not even the richest people belonging in the top tier of society could afford a single ticket, much less a private room. Noritoshi made the right choice by walking with you down the hallways, the walls transitioning from a glossy black to a velvet tint, leading into one of the VIP rooms that was already surrounded by his guards.

The whole way there, Noritoshi didn’t loosen his grip on you, making sure his hand was cupping your ass to flash your ring and his.

Several envious gazes and curious ones later, followed by hushed whispers before the pair of you disappeared behind the double doors, Noritoshi loosened up in his seat, satisfied that he’d marked his territory successfully.

Noritoshi uncapped a bottle of fine whiskey served by a shivering waiter, while you sat next to him, legs crossed enough that the poor blushing waiter flushed at the sight of your bare cunt.

You checked your nails, smirking at the velvet black acrylics Noritoshi was generous enough to let you borrow his black card for. The dress you wore was infinitely superb too, the bust firm enough to push your breasts high enough that the outline of your cleavage was just a step away from exposing your nipples – a tease, as always – just as how Noritoshi wanted.

He was like that; always dangling the treasure right in front of people’s mouths as they salivated in hunger, then bringing it back to his grasp just before they took a bite.

How Noritoshi, you thought.

Out of nowhere, muffled gunshots could be heard from the outside, your eyes cat-like as they glared at the door, waiting for people to burst through. Not a second later, one of your guards rudely invited himself in, pushing the curtain that hid a secret exit as he started babbling nonsense about a madman or something.

“What’s wrong?” Noritoshi asked calmly over his glass, swirling the glass with a satisfying clink. “What’s all the commotion about?”

“Sir, you need to leave! There’s an assassin here and he’s easily taking our men down!”

“Assassin?” he scoffed with a pinch of his brow. “What do you mean assassin? This is a private nightclub – isn’t our security tough?”

“Yes, sir, but he’s easily overpowering us—”

“This assassin you speak of,” you stopped inspecting your nails, placing them over your knee instead. A smirk painted your bold red lips when the guard’s eyes trailed downwards to your shaven cunt, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the sight before he turned away, stiffening harder once he met Noritoshi’s glare. “Is he tall, dark, has a scar running down in his lip and has a crazy look in his eye?”

“Y-yes, that’s exactly him.”

“Do you know who he is, darling?”

You scrunched your noise, uncrossing your legs out of poor mercy to this man. He looked like he’d faint soon – seriously, didn’t Noritoshi have enough sluts for his men to fuck? “An old friend of mine, although I could hardly call him that when he took everything from me,” eyes darkening at the memory of him, you pushed yourself off the velvet cushions of the couch, swiping at the gun strapped to your thigh. “You should leave, Toshi. I’ll handle him.”

“You’ll handle him? It’s unsafe – we need to leave—”

Sigh, he always worried too much over you. It was so easy for him to forget you lived an equally dark life prior meeting him, so you pressed your lips against his, making sure to mark the edges red to remind him he had nothing to worry about. As always, it shut Noritoshi up, his hands coming up to caress at your ass.

“He won’t hurt me,” you assured, palms laid flat on his chest. “Now go.”

Noritoshi wasn’t given a chance when you nodded at his guard, who got the message and dragged his boss away rather harshly behind the curtain. Smirking, you made your way outside, adrenaline rushing through your veins and heat seeping into your core. This night just got a lot more interesting.

Your fun was spoiled, however, when you were met with blood stained walls and limbs torn everywhere. A sneer made its way to your face, not because you were disgusted by the sight, but because he was still as boring and upfront as ever.

He never let you had your fun.

“Toji,” you greeted the tall man sitting on top of the pile of bodies, brows raised because it’s been a long time and he still hadn’t changed. He still wore the exact same fitted black shirt that looked like it would rip into pieces at each of his movements, which to your surprise, never did. “Still as messy as ever, huh?” you clicked your tongue, bunching your dress up with your fists as you stepped over the bodies, making sure not to slip from the sea of blood. “Jeez. You’re not even the least bit concerned about the cleaners.”

“Sweetheart,” he crooned, mirroring your smug expression as he jumped down his throne of corpses, roughly tilting your chin up so you could look him in the eye.

Even with high heels, Toji effortlessly towered over you, reminding you again and again of the strength difference. Though you held your ground pretty well, and he knew this too, otherwise he wouldn’t have struggled so much in his mercenary work the moment you came.

“It’s so nice to see you again – or is that what you wanted me to say?” Your lips stretched for a sinister laugh, Toji beating you to it when his strong hands came to wrap around your neck, slamming you on the wall hard enough he blurred in your vision for a moment. You kept chuckling through the lack of air, tongue darting out to lick the blood of his knuckles. Toji growled, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you’ve done to me, bitch. You ruined my pretty face with those nails of yours.”

“Can’t blame a woman, Toji, you weren’t letting me cum.”

“To be fair, you were leaving me after you killed all my clients when I kindly asked you to keep your hands to yourself,” Toji sneered, head darting down to rip the diamond necklace Noritoshi got you onto the ground. You whined upon seeing the crystals scatter onto the floor, millions worth now dipped in blood. What a fucking shame. “But you’ve always been a naughty little minx, aren’t you? You just can’t keep your hands off of beautiful men.”

“Trust me, Toji, what’s inside their pockets are a lot prettier than faces,” you giggled as your hand came up to trace the scar on his lips, eyes narrowed into appreciative slits. “Nothing would ever be prettier than this.”

“Is it still a face you want to sit on?”

“Fuck, yes,” you admitted, pushing yourself off the wall to wrap your legs around him.

The momentum took Toji by surprise, forgetting that you were just as strong as him as he staggered two steps backwards. His grip tightened on your hip to steady you both, the sharp blade of his weapon poking against your thigh threateningly.

It didn’t bother you, and you only nuzzled your nose against his almost affectionately, staring him in the eyes as you mumbled, “I fucking missed you.”

“Then why did you leave?” he grunted while grinding you down on his cock, hissing for a split second when your killer heels dug into his lower back. He could feel blood leaking from how the shoe pierced him, but he made no move to push you away, enticing you to kiss the corners of his lips to worship his scar. He was so beautiful, sinfully gorgeous that you always lost your mind around him.

He was your end, your ruin, your destruction – and you left in a poor attempt to keep your heart safe.

“How long has it been since I had my hands on you, huh, pretty thing? Six months, maybe more? Time gets so blurry when I’m not buried in your tight cunt,” Toji buried his nose in the crook of your neck, using the blade of his sword to tear your dress open, leaving your lower half revealed to him.

“Oh, you asshole, that was expensive!”

“Don’t give a fuck, baby,” he rolled his eyes, and of course he didn’t. Toji wasn’t any better than you; both your minds were always clouded and hazy with sex. “You smell different. Got another man?”

“Hmm, and he’s much better than you are,” Your words ticked Toji off, knowing full well he always hated it whenever you poked at his ego. Toji was a man of many things, and every time you implied that he wasn’t something, you could expect that he would fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to feel your legs for days. Now that was exactly what you wanted, so you kept going, your nails travelling under his shirt to leave more scratches at his already ruined back – all thanks to you. “He’s rich, classy, handsome, praises me instead of calls me a little slut—”

“Aren’t you?”

“I am,” you agreed shamelessly with a sultry laugh, looking back at him with a devious glint in your eye. “But I like being worshipped every now and then.”

“Haven’t I done that enough? You talk as if I never made you feel good.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, nothing can still compare to your cock, Toji,” Your other hand shoved itself down his pants to feel him, soft pants leaving those pretty mouth of yours when felt his cock bare, the tip already wet with pre-cum.

Of fucking course Toji executed his missions on commando mode – he couldn’t be bothered to keep his fat cock imprisoned.

“But he’s richer. And he’s willing to marry me, breed me until I’m swollen with his children and pamper me afterwards. He’s willing to make me his.”

“You fucking slut,” Toji shoved his tongue inside your mouth, the moans spilling from your lips to his only encouraging him to align his huge length onto your already dripping cunt – always so wet and ready to be filled by him – before he slammed you all the way down. The sudden stretch had you biting on his tongue to muffle your moan, Toji’s hands bruising as he cupped your ass. Toji clenched his jaw upon feeling your walls embrace him warmly, his breaths ragged and faint.

It made your chest swell with pride at the thought that only you could make the infamous Fushiguro Toji this disarranged.

“What is it with you sticking to alpha males all the fucking time?”

“A princess wants her throne beside a handsome prince, Toji. Just because your family didn’t like you, doesn’t mean mine did too. I grew up being told fairy tales while you ran rampant in the streets,” you bit back, the sinister laugh painting the blood red walls dark because you knew Toji better than anyone, and one of the things that always set him off like a bomb was the mention of his abusive family.

You couldn’t wait to see how he would ruin you, and you moaned loudly when Toji grabbed your jaw until your cheeks were squished, the cold of his blade held against your throat sending a shiver down your spine.

“Are you the slightest bit aware of how much I want to kill you right now? Slice your lovely neck and fuck you while you suffocate in your own blood?” You gasped as you felt warm liquid slowly bleed out from the slightest cut, your blood sliding down your chest and under the leftover materials of your dress. Toji used his bare hands to rip the dress apart, your tits bouncing the moment they were freed from its confines.

The guttural groan that echoed from his throat was pure animalistic, similar to the carnal thrusts of his dick that pummelled into you. He pushed you flat on your back until your skin pricked with the shards of glass on the bar countertops, the pain only adding to your pleasure.

Toji kept you locked underneath his arm, his hands choking the air out of you while you clenched around him repeatedly, your walls sucking him in tight enough that Toji lost rhythm in his thrusts. “Only you would like that, Toji,” you choked out in a broken gasp, the man above you growling when you picked up a broken wine glass to push his hands off of you.

Blood coated both your bodies as Toji drove his dick deeper, hitting all the spots that only he could ever reach.

“I’m a man of rare taste.”

“So fucking rare,” you teased. Toji’s middle finger and thumb met once they wrapped around your neck, pulling you off the table to bounce you on his cock, using only his masculine virility and raw strength to fuck you good.

The sudden change of position had the tip of his cock pressing into your most sensitive spots, Toji’s angry grunts sinful yet so erotic as your bumpy walls kissed the veins of his cock.

Toji suddenly wrapped an arm under your breasts, flipping you over until you were met by the sight of Noritoshi standing still outside his VIP room, his gun aimed at the both of you. “Uh-uh – I wouldn’t do that if I were you, pretty boy,” he warned, his words taking a huge hit on Noritoshi when his arm wavered. “One cut is all I need and your lovely fiancé’s body would be swimming in her own blood. Now, you wouldn’t want to waste such a beauty, right?”

“Y/N!” he suddenly dropped his gun, hands raised in surrender beside his head. If Toji wasn’t driving his dick like a fucking animal, you would’ve broken Noritoshi’s nose, ashamed that he surrendered so easily. Noritoshi’s dark eyes turned to Toji’s, heat seeping off of him in waves. “I will never forgive you for what you’re doing!”

“Wasn’t asking for forgiveness, shorty,” Toji pressed, using two fingers to split your lips open, giving Noritoshi the show of his life as Toji’s fat cock stretched you open completely, your puffy lips wrapped around his swollen length.

You knew you looked so dirty right now, skin covered in blood, wearing nothing but your black heels that accentuated your legs while Toji split your body in half.

A strangled moan was pulled from you when Toji hitched one of your legs, his arm hooked behind your knee, completely exposing yourself to Noritoshi. Even though you couldn’t see yourself, the squelching of your pussy taking in Toji’s cream filled dick was so pornographic you couldn’t help the heightening of your arousal, breasts bouncing as Toji kept up his relentless pounding.

“Come on, sweetheart, let him see how much I’m stretching you out. Watch as she loses herself around my fact cock like the fucking whore she is,” Toji laughed, silencing your incoherent fucked out mumbled by shoving a thumb through your lips, smearing your lipstick to the side as if you weren’t a mess already. “Oh, look at his face. You don’t mean to tell me he doesn’t know how filthy you are, huh, sweetheart?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“What the fuck did you say to me?” Toji slapped your ass, your walls clenching around him on instinct. Noritoshi’s eyes widened when you only moaned in response, the blissful smile on his ace rendering him silent. “Not so threatening now, huh, Kamo?” Toji leered, snickering at the apparent tent growing in your fiance’s pants.

It was absolutely sickening that he got off at the sight of his pretty little fiancé be used by some other man, but Toji respected all kinks, even if he didn’t have much respect for Noritoshi to begin with.

“Come on, sweetheart. Scream for me. Say my fucking name like you always used to. Let’s show this pretty boy here how awful you are before he regrets being with you,” Toji snapped his hips harder into you, causing you to see stars that mixed with the sight of Noritoshi falling onto his knees, your name a plead for his lips.

Toji’s cock only twitched at the sight of seeing someone so helpless, to see the infamous powerful Kamo leader beg for Toji to save you and let you go.

He always knew he had a begging kink, but he didn’t think it would come in this form.

“T-Toshi—” you moaned out, eyes snapped shut. You couldn’t think anymore, the only sounds filling your ears were Noritoshi’s cries and Toji’s ragged pants in your ear, his hand pressing down on the apparent bulge of your lower stomach every time he bottomed out.

“I said, say my fucking name.”

“Toji, Toji, fuck!” you leaned backwards and placed your head on his shoulder while he grabbed your hair to kiss you, that familiar heat beginning to form in your core. Unable to help it, your moans fell left and right, loud enough that it drowned out Noritoshi’s pleads. Toji laughed at both of you – called you the dumbest lovers alive – so he kissed you, more tongue and teeth than lips, his thrusts sloppy and desperate. “Oh, oh fuck, yes, yes, right there, oh!”

“You can never fuck her like I do. You can never make her feel good like I do. See how she’s moaning so pretty for me? You can never have her.”

“You’re so fucking unfair,” you cried out, hands tugging at his hair. Toji never let up for even a moment as his thrusts slowed; the new pace he set slow yet deep. Toji pulled out his cock slowly to make you feel him inch by inch, your walls licking at his cock vein by vein until only the tip was left inside, before thrusting full into you in one swift movement of his hips. “You can’t just break up with me and – fuck – tell me I can’t be with others.”

“I own you, sweetheart – I’m your personal disaster,” Toji taunted, large hands groping at your breast when your eyes snapped open, his last final thrusts turning your pussy to mush.

You came around him, hard and overwhelmingly so. Your hands wrapped around his bicep to steady your shaking legs, his name spoken like a prayer with malicious tone as if to curse him. Toji pushed you off his cock until you fell on the floor, his rough hands grabbing at your jaw again to face him, thick spurts of his cum painting your face.

Taking them all in like a good girl, Toji swiped his length over the slope of your nose and pushed the still hard cock through your lips. His hands gripped your head tight as he fucked into your mouth, nothing but anger shown through that scarred face while your jaw fell slack and sore.

“And I’ll break you over and over again until you’re reminded that you’re mine.”

1K notes · View notes

waywardrose13 · 3 years ago

Text

Touch of Betrayal

Masterlist

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Angst, smut, smidge of fluff, graphic abuse, graphic depictions of injuries, fucked up coven, language, all the angst, not enough editing to satisfy me

Word Count: 20,538

Summary: As the oldest sibling, Y/n was supposed to be sacrificed for the betterment of her coven. After her escape, she meets Bobby Singer, who takes her under his wing. It is no secret Dean Winchester hates witches, but Y/n is different, and Dean begins to question his feelings. When Sam is threatened and Dean is given an ultimatum, the trust and feelings that have grown between Y/n and Dean is jeopardized. The touch of betrayal stings.

Commissioned by anonymous:)

A/N- To the lovely soul who commissioned this fic, I hope you enjoy!

Y/N

You could feel the blood from the shackles trickling down your fingers, dripping onto the backs of your bare knees. Shivering, the autumnal air bit at your skin and seeped into your bones. The cold wasn’t the only thing making you shiver, however. You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off the gold blade laying on the stone pedestal in front of you. Soon, that blade would slice through not only your throat, but four other eldest children of the founding families; Freya, age twenty-four; Marxicus, age twenty-two; Sera, age twenty; Gunthias, age twenty-two; and finally, you, the youngest at twenty-one.

The thin slip hanging from your body did nothing against the cold, your bare limbs exposed to the night air, droplets of blood dotting the backs of your legs. Those damn shackles had cut into your wrists for three days. You could feel how raw your skin was beneath the cool metal. However, it didn’t really matter seeing how you would be dead once the moon reached its apex.

Sera was sobbing loudly to your left. Some of the coven, maybe a handful, looked on empathetically. The majority stared with disgust at her emotional state. Your mother’s words rang in your head from the night before. “This is an honor. Do not embarrass me tomorrow.”

You scanned the gathering. Many people were drinking goblets of harvest mead, others were conversing lowly in small packs. Many people were simply watching you and the other sacrifices, taking in every inch, as if staring so intently would siphon even more power.

No one caught your eye in particular. Not until you spotted him.

His dark eyes were trained on you intently. Biting your lip to keep it from wobbling, you took a deep, steadying breath. Don’t embarrass me, don’t embarrass me, don’t embarrass me.

As the world faded away, you and Jasper locked in a silent pining, you wondered what it would have been like if you had been able to go through with the wedding. As a female within the coven, you were obligated to have children unless you absolutely couldn’t, so maybe the two of you would have had a few kids, settled in a cabin on the outskirts of the compound. The marriage may have been arranged, but you were friends before lovers. You were lucky when it came to that. Most people were strangers up until their wedding night. You had the privilege of at least knowing Jasper, even if you weren’t friends until after the arrangement had been made. You would have been happy.

Instead, your heart ached at the thought of never seeing him again, the thought of him marrying someone else and fathering someone else’s children. You weren’t sure if you loved him like that. Yes, you loved him. He was your best friend. You loved him with everything you had. However, you weren’t sure if you were in love with him. It was rare that the marriages in the coven had any love. You could see yourself falling for him, though. If given the opportunity, he would be easy to fall in love with.

Of all those secret meetings and passionate embraces, you wondered what it would have been like to be together in the public eye. Sneaking off was fun and thrilling, the secrecy and forbidden joinings exhilarating and they certainly helped you fuel the rebellion against your parents and the coven. You two weren’t supposed to be together in any way, even in a friendly manner, until after the wedding. But those meetings? After finding out about your arrangement, you two decided to get to know each other on your terms, not your parents’. Those friendly meetings had turned into so much more, and they were fun. Fun was a rarity in the coven. You and Jasper always had fun. He was a fantastic lover, much more experienced than you were, seeing as he had been your first. You two never spoke about it. It just sort of happened one night. There was no true romance, no heart skipping love. Just two friends having some fun before they were married.

Then your older brother Danny had died, and suddenly your world had crashed down around you. You were suddenly the oldest child. You were going to be sacrificed, the power transferring to you the moment Danny took his last breath. Not only had you lost your best friend, but your future had been rewritten; the arrangement made for you and Jasper had withered, and you were going to be murdered in a blood sacrifice in three years.

You and Jasper no longer were to be married, but that didn’t stop the meetings. That didn’t stop the passion. After Danny, you needed the distraction. You spent more nights with Jasper than you did alone. Not that he complained.

Your last night of freedom was different. Typically, the nights spent together were fast, primal, and more often than not, rough. Three nights ago, your final night spent free, or as free as you could get inside the coven, was spent with your family. Then after they had gone to bed, your mother excited for your honorable sacrifice, your siblings looking forward to furthering their power, and your father despondent and sullen- the thought of losing another child weighing on him- you had snuck out to meet with Jasper for the final time. And like he had been your first time, he was slow and tender. Emotion poured from him and it had frightened you. You knew he felt more for you than you did for him. You also knew you couldn’t let yourself feel that way, not knowing your fate. You couldn’t give into your own temptation, or let him taste the sweet tang of the promise of forever, not when you were being ripped from the world by a cruel hand. You two had spent the whole night together, words a rarity, speaking with your bodies, saying goodbye. He was your best friend, your confidant and solace. The person you wished you had the time to love.

He stepped closer to the circle of stones, face still shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the flickering orange lanterns hung by iron wroughts. Ever so slowly, he lifted a hand, a deep yellow spark igniting at the tips of his fingers. They settled there for a moment, glowing bright in the dark, but no one seemed to notice. No. This was for you and you only. Jasper loved art, and that’s what his magic was. The light danced in his palm and glided around in swirls in the air above his outstretched arm.

He was distracting you. Keeping your mind elsewhere as the elders, cloaked in the charcoal gray robes of their ancestors, stepped up onto the dais. Grisha, the High Priestess of your coven, chanted in latin. If you paid more attention, you could know what she was saying. But you stayed focused on Jasper, even as his figure trembled in the light, face pinched to keep emotion from showing. Your heart ached at the sight and you so desperately longed to run your fingers through his chocolate curls one last time. Wanted to feel his strong hand in yours. Wanted to run away from here with him.

But if there was something Jasper was, it was loyal. And his family came before you. He would never leave them, never leave the compound or abandon the coven. Not even for you.

As a founding family, your father was amongst the robed figures. It was by the hand of the creator who committed the sacrifice. For generations, parents held the golden blade to their children’s throat to spill their blood upon the stones. You glanced down at your bare knees, noting the stone’s color; black and a deep gray. The stones were once as pale gray as the standing stones that formed the circle. But each sacrificial slab had held so much death, the color was no longer so.

It made you shiver.

The light flickered brighter across the circle and you raised your eyes to Jasper again. His own dark eyes were pleading with you across the grass, begging you to keep your gaze on him. Begging you to stay locked with him for as long as you could.

So you obliged.

Sera was first. The volume of her sobs increased. She screamed and pleaded with her mother, blubbering and crying until suddenly, she gurgled, and a thud echoed ominously across the circle. You shook violently and you were afraid of collapsing. Jasper brightened his tendrils of light, forming small animal shapes; rabbits hopping, birds flying, butterflies flitting. His distractions only went so far.

Marxicus was next. He had been stone still and completely silent. As his father raised the blade to his throat, all he said was, “sancti libera me.”

Saints liberate me.

The blade smoothly sliced open his throat, and he slumped to the stone heavily.

Freya cursed at her father, both in English and in Italian, snapping and snarling and fighting until the end. She didn’t die immediately. She had fought hard enough that the blade hadn’t sliced through her artery. Her father gripped a fist full of her hair and yanked her head back before pressing harder and deeper into her throat until blood sprayed across his face and her body fell.

You thought you might vomit. Or faint. Or both.

Gunthias pleaded without tears, but begged nonetheless. You saw the blade slice his throat from the corner of your eye, watching as his body fell and slipped half-way off the stone slab.

Finally, as the youngest, you were up. You were shaking so hard, you thought you might fall if it wasn’t for your father’s hand landing on your shoulder. Jasper’s light flickered slightly, dulling into small swirls of yellow dust around his palm. He was too frightened to conjure enough power. He half turned, as if he was going to run, but thought better of it. His eyes never left yours.

Yours left his, however. You scanned the crowd one last time for your family. It didn’t take you long. Your siblings were hugging each other, the twins- Margot and Matthias, both clinging onto each other as if their lives depended on it. Your mother stood over them, hands clasped beneath her chin, lips murmuring a prayer to the Gods as she watched with eyes full of elation. She smirked lightly at you as she caught your gaze, giving you a deep nod.

You looked away quickly, finding Jasper one last time. He was still there, as he said he would be. Always.

The blade was wet and sticky with blood against your throat. You trembled and murmured a prayer to your Gods, wishing for a quick death, hoping the afterlife was as glorious as promised, hoping this was fucking worth it-

The blade swiped through the air, missing you by mere inches, before it lodged itself into Grisha’s chest.

Gasps and screams erupted from the crowd as the High Priestess shrieked and keeled over, clutching at her chest as she began to spasm. You met Jasper’s eyes one more time, his face stunned and eyes impossibly wide. Your father gripped you under your arms and lifted you from the slab.

Then you two were running.

Your father raised his shields as the coven went wild. Many people cowered in fear. Your father had just killed the High Priestess. If he did that, what was stopping him from killing them?

Others were sending out powerful blasts of energy to slow you two down. But your father simply gripped your arm tighter and sprinted from the circle and into the field, the tall grass whipping at your bare legs, your feet slicing from thorns, but you didn’t care. You were escaping. You could do this.

“Faster, Y/n/n!”

You pumped your legs until they burned as the two of you ran. Shouts and battle cries erupted from behind you and you knew the two of you were being chased. Of course you would be. They couldn’t finish the sacrifice. The power would not be fully replenished.

You had to die.

But you didn’t want to. You spent your whole life confined inside the damn coven, in the damn compound. You wished to see the world, wanted to experience life outside. You wanted to live- for you and for Danny.

“Faster. Please, run faster!”

Your father pulled you along until you were nearly stumbling. He noticed and sent a quick surge of purple light, the shackles bound to your wrists bursting apart. You winced as the air hit your raw skin but you were now able to run with more balance.

Finally, you broke through the trees. The confinement within the branches helped shield you from the onslaught of power surges being sent your way. If you were caught, not only would you be killed, but your father would be too. He would be deemed a traitor to the coven, and treason was the highest offense you could commit.

“Where are we going?” You panted between breaths. Your lungs burned and you tried your best to ignore it, but you had never been one for running or for sports. Not to mention, you had been locked away in the Harvest Rite cabin for three days, shackled to a “room” that was really a cell, locked from the sunlight for three days so the harvest moon would touch your spirit better or some shit. Honestly, you had no idea, not interested in the faux explanation the coven founders had spouted centuries ago.

“Anywhere but here,” your father said breathlessly. “We need to get you somewhere safe. Then we can-”

Red light collided with your father’s back, sending him sprawling. You yelled in surprise and skidded to a halt, falling to your knees beside him. The magic seeped into his back and erupted through his chest in bloody bursts, clawing its way free.

“Daddy!”

“Go! Y/n, please! Go!”

You shook your head and sobbed, covering his chest with your hands, his blood warm against your chilled skin.

“No, no I can’t leave you!” You said. The shouting grew louder and you knew the ones chasing you were close. But how were you to leave him? Especially when he risked himself for you.

“You must. Please, Y/n/n. Please.” His eyes, ones matching yours, pleaded with you behind light lashes. He retched, blood dribbling from his lips. He gripped your hands with his. “I would die a thousand deaths before I would let them kill you. I… I can’t lose… another one.”

You knew he was talking about Danny, about that fateful day that your older brother had drowned in the lake. How the grief had radiated from your father so potently, it physically pained you. It was the worst day of your life. Now you had to watch another person you loved die.

“Don’t go,” you whispered. “Please don’t go.” You laid your forehead to his, the metallic scent of blood surrounding you.

“I… I love you… I… want you to… live… for me… and for… D-Danny… Please… run.”

“I love you, too,” you said. You pressed a kiss to his forehead and pushed yourself up, giving him one more glance, torn between running and fighting the bastards who did this.

“Go. Please. I love you. Go,” he said weakly. His body went limp and you knew that was it.

Letting a scream of outrage bubble in your chest, you vowed to personally kill every single last one of the fuckers who did this. You vowed to avenge your father. Freya. Marxicus. Gunthias. Sera.

Yourself.

Letting your shields surround you and your glamour conceal you, you turned and sprinted deep into the woods, trying to keep your anger and sorrow at bay long enough to prepare yourself to step foot into the outside world for the first time in your twenty-one years of life.

DEAN

“Screw you.”

Dean laughed and reached forward to scoop up Sam’s cards, shuffling them with the larger stack of cards in the center of the table. He had won three games in a row now, and he was pushing for a fourth.

“Admit it, Sammy,” he said, leaning back into his chair. “You just suck.”

“Shut up, jerk. Deal the damn cards.” Sam sat forward and shook out his hands. Dean snickered and dealt cards to himself and his brother.

“Quit while you can, bitch,” Dean said. “Losing four times in a row? Pathetic.”

“Will you two shut the hell up?” The brothers looked up at the doorway, Bobby trudging in from the hallway with a beer in one hand and a leather bound book in the other. “Some of us need to research.”

Dean sipped his own beer and threw a handful of salted peanuts into his mouth. “How much more research could you possibly have to do? Don’t you ever just… chill?”

Sam furrowed his brows, mouthing the word “chill?” to his brother. Since when had they known Bobby to “chill?”

Bobby grumbled something under his breath and sat down at his desk. “Maybe if you researched more, you wouldn’t have to ask me for help all the time.”

Sam spit out his beer, doubling over in laughter. Dean wasn’t as amused and he threw his next handful of peanuts at his brother.

“Children,” Bobby muttered.

The rest of the night went by in a similar manner. Dean won the fourth round, and the fifth, and then Sam finally gave up before suggesting a new game in which he promptly beat Dean’s ass. Bobby silently read and scribbled notes, answering a phone call around nine.

“You boys up for a hunt?”

Dean rubbed his hands together and lifted his brows. “When aren’t we?”

“Dean, we just finished one yesterday,” Sam said, putting the stack of cards back into the worn box. Dean shrugged and got up from his seat.

“Sounds simple, probably a vengeful spirit,” Bobby said, handing Dean his notes. Dean read over them to himself before silently handing them to Sam who did the same thing. “Should be a one and done thing.”

“Yeah, why not?” Sam sighed.

Bobby waved the brother’s off, Dean speeding from the long, dirt driveway with AC/DC blasting from the stereo. Sam chewed lightly on the tip of his pen as he made some of his own marks to Bobby’s notes.

“So what, you're gonna find another hunt right after this one again? Maybe it’ll take you twelve hours instead of a full day next time.”

Dean’s hands curled tightly around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He liked hunting, so what? Was he throwing himself into hunts more often than not recently? Sure. But they helped. They helped with the rage that simmered beneath his hands. They helped with the itching feeling he got whenever he thought of hell.

Fucking hell.

Literally.

It hadn’t even been three months since he returned to the land of the living. Sam was still in the dark and Dean planned on keeping it that way. He wouldn’t subject his younger brother to the horrors of hell, what he experienced or what he did. He shared everything with Sam. He wanted to keep this to himself.

Hunting helped relieve some of that pent up aggression and fear that burned beneath his bones like fire. Saving people, hunting things. That was his motto, right? Saving people now when he couldn’t in hell, when he caused people pain. Hunting things and killing them to let out some of that burning rage.

If Sam suspected anything, he didn’t say so. Dean thought he might have a few times, but he would quickly change the subject or cut him off.

No chick-flick moments. Another motto he planned to live by.

So he pressed a little harder on the gas pedal, Baby revving beneath him, trees a blur outside his window. He simply let himself drive and listen to his music, thankful he even got to do this, that he could hunt and be with his brother and live.

Even if he wasn’t truly free from the confinement of his own mind, or the burdens of his guilt.

Y/N

It had been nearly a week since you escaped.

A week of hiding and traveling.

You had no money, no way of knowing where you were, no knowledge of anything besides your coven.

Luckily, it seemed you were in the middle of nowhere. You had come across a rundown building with broken windows and shutters that hung from their hinges. Taking a peek inside, you realized it must have been abandoned ages ago. Branches, leaves, and cobwebs littered the inside. You had carefully maneuvered around the broken glass and into a small room. A moth-eaten couch sat cockeyed in the old living room, drapes pooled on the floor beneath the dirt covered windows, dusty books and picture frames laid forgotten on the floor underneath wall to wall shelves.

You still shivered in your shift, but there were a pair of boots by the front door. A quick inspection found the inside to be worn but wearable. After plucking out leaves and a small spider in one of them, you slipped them onto your feet. They were a bit big on you, but they would have to do until you could figure out your next course of action.

You raided the house, finding a small backpack to take with you. You couldn’t stay in a place like this. The only furniture was that god-awful couch and a table in one of the upstairs rooms. But you found a pocket knife, a flashlight (with no batteries), and you had taken a few of the books from the floor, stuffing the items in the backpack before continuing with your journey.

For the rest of the week, you would find small places to settle for the night within the woods. Cover beneath large rocks, crannies between cliffs, in the low branches of trees. You didn’t dare risk making a fire, not with your coven on the lookout for you. Instead, you would summon a warm ball of light to keep you from freezing to death. You would nestle the light and smaller droplets of light around your body as you slept, one hand on the pocket knife, the other cradling your head as a pillow.

You thought of your father every waking hour.

You missed him so much. It seemed as if he was the only one in your family who actually cared about you. Your siblings were too young to really understand anything about the coven, and they saw you more as a prized possession than an older sister. Your mother was devoted to the coven and its members. She loved you. In her own way. But not like your siblings. You were a possession. A thing full of intense power that would eventually return that power to the coven to fuel and replenish it.

You hated it.

You hated that damn coven and its traditional ways. You heard of covens that were modernized and didn’t sacrifice, covens that lived in the modern world. You didn’t know if they were real or not.

You wished your father was with you. He loved you and cherished you as a daughter, not a weapon. You two had always been close. And it was because of you that he was dead.

A week went by, and you were walking along a dark road. The road was made of black stone, white dotted lines painted down the center. You weren’t completely ignorant of the outside world. You knew what roads were, had heard about cars and telephones.

That amongst other little things was all you knew.

Being alone was terrifying.

You allowed yourself to cry. Your mother always told you crying was a sign of weakness, but she wasn’t here. You were alone. For the first time, you were alone in a world that was foreign to you. But you were free.

A low rumbling sounded from behind you. Turning, you caught sight of a large machine barreling towards you. Wheels spun quickly and two lights flashed in your face from the front of it.

A car.

You watched in awe as it sped past you and then stopped a little distance ahead. A man in jeans and a flannel pushed open a door and slipped from the raised seat. A hat with a brim shading his eyes sat on his head, a gray beard covering the bottom of his face. He took a few steps towards you which made you step back.

“You alright, girl?”

His voice was gruff and slightly accented. It reminded you of your father’s voice. You subconsciously took a step towards him, desperate to hang on to that feeling of familiarity that had to do with your father’s memory.

“Miss?”

You stopped when you realized he was taking steps towards you. What was the worst that could happen? If the man tried to hurt you, you would be able to stop him with a single thought. You were a witch, and a damn powerful one. He doesn’t even know witches exist.

“Can I drive you anywhere?”

“No,” you answered honestly. Where could you go? You had nowhere. You left your only home behind and you didn’t have any money. Fuck, you really had nothing. Panic began to creep up your throat.

“Okay,” the man said slowly. “Do you need help?”

Yes, yes, yes. You wanted to let him help you. But what would you say? Oh yeah, my family comes from a closed off coven and my father saved me from having my throat sliced open in a traditional sacrifice, then he was killed while we ran. I have no money, no clothes, and absolutely no where to go.

“I…”

“You look freezing. Let me help you out. I’ll get you something to eat and we’ll figure it out.”

Right to business he was. You glanced down at yourself, skin prickled in gooseflesh from the cold, your slip dirty and ripped in some places. Your feet ached in those too-big boots and your stomach growled in hunger. The berries and bark you had eaten for the past week left you starving for more.

Going against your better judgement, you gave in. He helped you up into the truck. You hugged your backpack to your chest, body ready to bolt if he tried anything. He gave you one last look before the car started moving. You started, gasping a little. The man flinched.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you responded quickly. He grumbled something and the truck went faster.

It was an odd feeling, but one you became accustomed to quickly. You felt his eyes on you again, as if he was sizing you up, and it made you a bit uncomfortable. You shifted in your seat. He seemed to notice and promptly looked away.

Not too long later, he was pulling the truck onto a dirt road. Various crushed and mangled pieces of metal were scattered along the yard. It didn’t take you long to realize they seemed to be old cars, scraps of such that the man must use for something. Tools lay forgotten all around, random bits of chain flung here and there.

Water suddenly splashed over your face.

Jumping, you spun to face him with a bewildered look. He looked you up and down again before reaching into his pocket, revealing a knife.

You reached for the door handle, trying to push open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. This was it. You were dead.

“Calm down, girl,” he said. He reached forward to grab your arm and you whined. You didn’t want to resort to using your powers, but you would if you absolutely had to. “I’m just testing you.”

“What?” You asked. He pressed the tip of the knife into your forearm. It pinched for a moment and was gone almost instantly, a tiny droplet of blood forming where it had knicked you. “What the hell was that for?”

“Precaution,” was all he said as he clicked a button and opened his door. He walked around the truck before he opened your door and offered you a hand. You looked at it suspiciously. You needed to leave. You should leave. You were also incredibly confused. The man rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt ‘ya. Well, not anymore. That was more for my safety than anything.”

“How?” You asked.

“I thought you were… nevermind. Just, get out of the car, will ‘ya?”

You narrowed your eyes and let your power inch into his head. It slithered inside and easily found his thoughts. You were a telepath, rare in the witch world, and you weren’t very practiced with it, but it came in handy for situations like this, you supposed. Your mother hated that you were a telepath. Danny was a telepath, and anything that reminded her of him was strictly forbidden. And ever since he died, you were forbidden to use your telepathy, and that led to you being incredibly out of practice.

...Didn’t mean to hurt her… she could have been a shifter… I could have sworn she was something…. She looks scared… probably just a runaway… she doesn’t look very old… why is she staring at me like that...

You pulled your power back and took his hand. The thoughts were quiet and breaking up, but you could make out most of what he was thinking. A shifter? As in shapeshifter? As a witch, you knew about some of the other supernatural creatures. But how would a human know about them?

Leading you into the house, the man kept sparing you odd glances, and you hugged your backpack even tighter to your chest. The inside of the house was dark and dingy, cluttered with old books and boxes. The man gestured to a small round sitting table in the kitchen. You sat down slowly, watching as he pulled out bread and some meat from the refrigerator.

“What’s your name?” He asked. He set the plate down in front of you as well as a glass of water. You tentatively reached forward for the sandwich, made up of some meat and cheese and lettuce, the bread spongier than the homemade kind your mother made at home. You picked it up, sniffing it. “It’s just a sandwich. It won’t kill you.”

Thinking back to the knife in the truck, and the scabbed droplet of blood on your arm, you scowled, but took a bite anyway.

The man pushed over his own sandwich not a minute later, seeing how hungry you were.

“Y/n,” you said after finishing the first sandwich, picking up the second one. You wiped the crumbs with the back of your hand and drank the glass of water deeply, gulping down every last drop. The man pushed his water over as well. You drank that, too.

“Okay, Y/n,” he said. He watched you carefully. “Why were you out on the road like that, dressed in a nightgown when it’s forty degrees out, at almost ten at night?”

You paused and chewed your bite of sandwich slowly. You wouldn’t tell him everything. But he seemed to be kind. And he reminded you so much of your father…

“I ran away.”

The man sighed and nodded. “I figured. You an adult?”

“I just celebrated my twenty-first year.”

He blinked at you, mouth opening to say something, closing it only a moment after. He furrowed his brows. “Odd way of saying it, but okay.” He scratched his chin. “Why did you run away?”

You blanched. You weren’t expecting that question, although you should have. You swallowed the food in your mouth. “Um…”

“I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me,” he said gruffly, making you frown.

“Um… well… It’s hard to explain,” you said truthfully. How were you supposed to explain your situation to him?

The man leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temple. “I guess if you don’t want to tell me right away, you don’t have to.” He looked you over, noting the still bruised wrists from the shackles and the cuts and various other small wounds from your coven and from spending a week in the woods. He swallowed hard at the sight of them. He reached a hand out for yours, and you obliged. He gently touched the wounds on your wrist, getting up to reach for a box in a cabinet over the sink.

Restraints?... I wonder…

That was all you could get from his head. You wished you were more practiced in your telepathy. Life would be much easier for you.

As he cleaned, applied salve, and dressed your wrists, his face was pulled into a pondering pout the whole time. His silent conversation with himself prompted a quick shake of his head to clear his mind before he was patting your forearm.

“Look, I know you don’t know me. I don’t know you. I don’t know what you have gone through and you don’t have to tell me. But I won’t hurt you, and I sure as hell won’t let anyone hurt you any more. I don’t know what caused these wounds but… I have an imagination. Just… you can stay as long as you want to, or need to. I have a spare room upstairs. I won’t bother you or nothing, but it’ll give you time to heal and get your shit together.” He thought for a moment before adding, “That is- if you want to.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Without thinking, you had wrapped your arms around the man’s neck, hugging him tightly. He grunted and hesitated before patting your back stiffly.

“Okay,” was all he said. You pulled back and grinned shyly.

“Thank you, sir,” you said.

“Call me Bobby.”

DEAN

“Piece of cake.”

Sam scoffed and limped after Dean, who was cradling his arm against his chest. They took out the vengeful spirit, but not without it getting the upper hand on them at one point. Nonetheless, Dean turned to his brother and grinned.

“Aw, come on, Sammy. That was fun!” Dean opened the trunk of his precious car and threw in his salt-filled shotgun. Sam shook his head and opened the passenger side door.

“Your definition of fun is startling,” was all he said as he ducked into the car, closing the door behind him. Dean laughed and slipped behind the steering wheel.

“Please. Your definition of fun is watching Harry Potter.”

Sam scoffed and turned to Dean. “Yours is watching cartoon porn.”

“It’s anime!” Dean snapped. Sam cackled in his seat and rubbed his sore knee.

“Okay, Dean. Whatever you say.”

***

By the time they got to Bobby’s, it was well past midnight, but a light was on in the windows. The air had cooled even more, the light wind nipping at their noses as they hurried to the door.

“Fucking locked-” Dean banged on it. “Bobby! Open up!”

“Dean, he could be sleeping,” Sam said.

“The light is on,” Dean pointed out. He raised his fist to bang on the door again but it swung open. Bobby knocked Dean’s hand out of the way.

“Would you quit it?” Bobby said. He moved out of the way to let the shivering brothers inside. “You’ll wake up-” Bobby snapped his mouth shut.

Dean smirked and let out a wheezing laugh. “Bobby, you sly dog!” He clapped his father figure on the shoulder.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Sam said simply. Dean was still making sexual jabs. Bobby rolled his eyes.

“I’m not seeing anyone, you idjits,” he said. “I took in a runaway. I don’t know the story so don’t ask, but she was hurt. I honestly thought she was… something at first.”

“Why?” Sam asked. He cocked his head. “Did she do anything weird?”

Bobby shrugged. “Call it a hunch. She’s clean, though.”

“So what, you’re just letting her stay here?” Dean made his way to the fridge to grab a beer. “Why would you-”

A scream tore through the upstairs of the house. A bloodcurdling scream that made the hair on Dean’s neck stand up.

Bobby spun and sprinted up the stairs in the blink of an eye, the brothers close on his heels, however when they reached the door to one of the spare bedrooms, Bobby slammed it in their face.

“What the hell?”

The screams broke off suddenly, and Dean could vaguely hear Bobby speaking softly through the door. A woman's voice sounded back, one that was melodic but had a rougher edge to it.

A few minutes passed before Bobby slipped out of the room and pulled the door closed. “Nightmare.”

The brothers stared at him incredulously.

“What?” Bobby raised his shoulders.

“What the hell, Bobby?” Dean asked. “Why’re you getting involved with something like this? I mean, do you even know her?”

“We help people, it’s what we do. I don’t know her but so what? Call it… a hunch,” Bobby said again. He shrugged for a third time and shouldered past the boys to head towards the stairs. “You two need to leave.”

“Excuse me?” Dean followed him, raising a brow.

“She barely trusts me. She’s skittish, is all. I don’t want three men freaking her out, especially two of them as big as you guys.” Bobby opened the door to the house and jerked his head. “You can come back when she settles.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Dean deadpanned. He couldn’t believe it! All of this over some girl? Some runaway girl who Bobby had just met? “There has got to be more to the story.”

“There isn’t. Now beat it,” Bobby said.

Y/N

Bobby was kind.

The first three days were a struggle. You weren’t sure what to do or what to tell him. He seemed harmless, but you easily spotted the guns and the knives and the sigils around the house. You knew what they were and what they meant. The Devil’s trap was something you had learned to create at a young age.

“Are you a hunter?” Bobby had asked.

“A… what?” You figured he didn’t mean a hunter in the sense of killing animals.

“A hunter. You know about demons and the sigils,” Bobby trailed off when he realized you didn’t know what hunters were. “What are you then?”

“Well, I had to learn about them growing up. Where I’m from, we were taught about demons in school and their protective sigils.” You had chuckled a bit. “My mother told me many people believed we are devil worshipers but we aren’t!”

Bobby simply stared at you.

“You’re a satanist?” He asked. That had you laughing again.

“Like I said, we don’t worship the devil.”

“Who is ‘we?’”

You hesitated, but you figured you could trust him. He had been kind and understanding with you. He knew you must have grown up pretty sheltered. You hadn’t known how to use the telephone and you didn’t know how to drive a car. You had never used a television.

Yes, you could trust him.

“My coven!”

Bobby moved so fast the table shook as his knees hit it, your glass of water toppling over. “Bobby, what?-”

“Your what?”

You cocked your head at his reaction. “My… my coven?”

“You’re a witch?” He was mad. Really mad. So mad, his face turned red and he fisted his hands at his sides.

“Well… yes,” you said slowly.

“We hunt you,” Bobby growled. That had you standing up slowly, hands raised in innocence.

“I don’t understand,” you said. You swallowed thickly. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Ever?” He snapped.

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever hurt anyone?”

You froze. Hurt anyone? “Of course not! What are you talking about?”

“Witches kill and maim and bring harm to people,” Bobby hissed. “I knew you were something.”

“I’ve never done any of that! How dare you think I have?” You said. “Up until a week and a half ago, I had never left my compound. I was going to be sacrificed for fucks sake! My coven is traditionalistic. We live a simple life. We have no communication with the outside world. You were the first person I had ever met outside my coven!”

He stared at you dumbly, blinking a few times to process your words. “Are you… are you serious?”

“Yes,” you breathed. You kept your hands up but you shrugged lamely. “If it wasn’t for my father, I’d be dead.”

“Where’s your father?” He asked. Your heart sunk at the thought and suddenly your knees felt weak.

“He died,” you spoke softly. “He freed me and they… they killed him in the process.”

Bobby’s fists unclenched. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “He died trying to save me and I won’t let him die in vain. I’ll leave if you want me to but… I haven’t done anything for you to kill me. You have my word.”

He looked at you for a while, really looked at you. His eyes softened as a tear slipped down your cheek. You desperately wanted to enter his mind but you knew you shouldn’t, especially not now. Finally, he relaxed his position.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay?”

“You don’t have to leave,” he said. “But if you start… I don’t know, killing things or doing any of that evil devil shit, I’ll kill ‘ya.”

You scoffed. “What would evil devil shit entail?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, you idjit.”

In the next few weeks, Bobby had taken you under his wing. He began to teach you how to shoot, which you weren’t terrible at. He gave you books to read on lore (much of which you already knew) and even brought you out on outings with him. He was a bit of a hermit, but the few times he did go out, he’d take you with him.

Needless to say, it was… overwhelming.

There were so many people. So much technology. But it was exhilarating. You had never been shopping before, never been to a restaurant. The diner Bobby brought you to was one he said wasn’t very good, but it was fun. The waitress had looked at you like you had grown a third head as your eyes took in all of your surroundings, gazing incredulously at the picture covered walls and the jukebox- that’s what Bobby called it- against the wall.

Then there was the music. You grew up with your mother’s fiddle and that was nothing compared to what you listened to now. You had chosen so many songs from the jukebox, Bobby had to pull you away from it before you drove everyone insane.

It was amazing and you wished you could experience it all with your father. You wished he could see the new sights and hear the wonderful music. The food was a bit more artificial tasting but there was a whole new world of foods to explore. You especially liked the cheeseburgers Bobby introduced you to.

Three weeks into your stay, Bobby had taken you on a hunt with him. He told you there would be people out there who would want to kill you and wouldn’t listen like he had. You had to keep your witchcraft and religion a secret, or else hunters like him would come for you.

That didn’t help the nightmares that plagued you at night.

Your father’s death haunted you. The screams and pleads of the other oldest children haunted you. Danny’s blue lips and waterlogged skin haunted you.

You couldn’t escape it.

“Here’s some money,” Bobby said. “Go to the bar next door. Get yourself a drink, dance a little. I’ll meet you back in the room when I’m done, okay?”

He brought you along but didn’t want you hunting quite yet.

You did as he said. You drank some new drinks, danced with a man you had met, conversed with the pretty red headed bartender. You let loose and had fun, something you never would have done with the coven.

When you stumbled back into the motel room that night, Bobby had grinned at you, watching as you fell back onto your bed.

“Fun night?” He asked, helping your boots off when you struggled with the laces.

“Screw my coven,” you slurred. You smiled toothily up at him. “That was fun!” You reached into your pocket, holding out the remainder of the money he had given you.

“Keep it,” he said. You smiled and shucked off your jacket.

You were asleep by the time your head hit the pillow.

DEAN

“You think the girl is still there?”

Dean sighed and shook his head. “Doubt it. It’s been almost two months.”

Sam stretched his legs as he and Dean walked up the steps to Bobby’s house. Dean knocked twice, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Autumn had faded into winter, the leaves long fallen and the flurries of snow drifting around their feet as they walked. The sun was hidden behind a blanket of clouds, making it even colder than it was.

The door opened, but instead of Bobby, a woman peered up at them. Dean’s breath hitched in his throat.

She was beautiful. Her eyes were e/c and held a sort of wisdom in them that startled him, but a glint of innocence were beheld in them, too. Her face was framed by long stray locks of h/c hair, half of it braided, the rest loose. She was tall for a woman, but the brothers still towered over her, and her simple t-shirt and jeans showed off her curves nicely. Dean looked her up and down, giving her a lopsided smile.

“Hey there,” he drawled. He touched the tip of his tongue to his top lip before giving her a nod. “What’s your name?”

The woman looked between them both, seemingly unfazed by Dean’s advances. “Bobby! There are two guys out here!”

“Let them in,” Dean heard Bobby call. “It’s the Winchester boys I was telling you about.”

“Oh,” was all she said as she stepped out of the way. She held the screen door open for them as they ducked inside. Dean sent her a wink as he passed.

“Sam, Dean,” Bobby greeted. He gestured to the woman who had now gravitated to the corner of the room. She simply watched them, her hands curled into fists at her sides. Dean noticed faint scars around her wrists. When she caught Dean’s eyes, she held them behind her back. “This is Y/n.”

“Hi,” Sam said, giving her a friendly smile.

“Hey.” Dean grinned lazily at her.

“Hello.”

Her voice was soft and Dean’s heart leaped in his chest at the sound.

“Is this the same girl from a few months ago?” Sam asked. Bobby nodded.

“Yep, that’s her,” he said. “I’ve been showing her the ropes.”

“What- like hunting?” Dean furrowed his brows. “Bobby, since when have we brought civilians into this shit?”

“I’m not a civilian,” Y/n spoke up.

“Sure, sweetheart,” Dean said.

“I’m a witch.”

“Dammit to hell, Y/n!” Bobby threw his arms out to his sides.

“A witch?” Dean snarled. He pulled his gun without a second thought, but before he could shoot, Y/n’s eyes shined purple and the gun was flung from his hand. “Bitch!”

“Watch your mouth, boy!” Bobby hissed. “She’s a witch, but she has lived her whole life in a secluded coven. She’s never hurt anyone.”

“She will!” It was Sam’s turn to pipe up. “Bobby, how can you trust a witch?”

“If you knew her, you’d understand,” Bobby answered. He gestured to her. “She won’t hurt anyone, and you won’t hurt her. Because if you do, I’ll hurt you. Do you understand?”

“Bobby-”

“I said, do you understand?” Bobby repeated himself. The brothers looked at him, noticing how his lips were screwed into a silent growl, his body moving into a defensive position half in front of the woman. Sam swallowed hard.

“Fine.”

“Sam!” Dean protested.

“If Bobby trusts her… then I do, too,” Sam muttered. Dean scoffed.

“She’s a witch!”

“And you’re a dick!” Y/n snapped.

Dean’s eyes widened. He lifted a finger to point at her. “You shut it.”

“Make me,” Y/n mocked. She folded her arms over her chest.

Dean took a step forward. “Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”

“Enough!” Bobby roared. He turned to the woman. “What did I say about Dean?”

She sighed deeply. “Not to rile him up.”

“And what are you doing?”

“... Riling him up.”

“Exactly,” Bobby said. “Stop it.”

“Sorry.”

Bobby turned to Dean next. “You quit taunting her, would you? She’s turning into a decent hunter, and an even better consultant, and she’s a kind woman. If you would get your head out of your ass, you two actually have a lot in common.”

“I don’t care,” Dean said. Which was a bit of a lie, but not really. She was attractive, and he liked her spirit, but she was a witch. How was he ever going to trust the likes of her?

“A consultant?” Sam asked.

“She grew up learning about monsters,” Bobby clarified. “Not only that, but she has the knowledge for spells and herbal magic. She’s given me a lot of great information on healing spells and on some research type stuff.”

“Oh great, she could be poisoning you, Bobby,” Dean said.

“I could poison you.” Y/n narrowed her eyes at the green eyed hunter.

“Bobby, she literally just threatened me,” Dean pointed out. Bobby just shook his head and rubbed his temple.

“Y/n?”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Thank you.” Bobby gestured to the brothers. “If you two ever need any help, she’s your girl. Dean, you may not like her, but she’s smart and her herb mixes really do work.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Sam said gently. He grinned at Y/n. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too, Sam,” she said, enunciating his name more prominently. Dean scowled. “I’ll see you two later.”

“Where are you going?” Bobby asked as Y/n made her way to the stairs.

“On a date!”

Bobby started and gaped at her. “A date?”

“Yeah! Remember Ben?”

Bobby thought for a moment. “The EMT from the wraith hunt?”

“Uh-huh! We went out that night afterwards and he called me yesterday for a second date.”

“Why didn’t I know about this?” Bobby asked.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “I am an adult, Bobby. Besides, the only relationship I had ever been in was an arranged one. I’d like to have my own.”

Dean sputtered. “I’m sorry- arranged?”

“Her coven was a little… old school,” Bobby said.

“To say the least,” Y/n chimed in. “Anyway, I have to get ready. Bye, boys!”

She disappeared up the stairs, the soft click of her door closing echoing down from the hallway. Bobby still looked like he was going to explode.

“How did I not know about this?”

Sam chuckled. “Don’t ask us, Bobby,” he said. “But I like her.”

“She’s great,” Bobby agreed. “Dean, if you don’t lighten up, I swear to God.”

Dean rolled his eyes, putting his whole body into it. “Okay, fine, whatever. I won’t kill her.”

“How generous of you, Dean,” Sam said, patting his brother on the shoulder. Dean pushed him away, giving him a dirty look.

“Shut up.”

Y/N

Ben was sweet, and handsome, and decent in bed, but he didn’t send that spark to your core like Dean did.

By your fifth date, you decided to break it off. It had been a month since you last saw the Winchester brothers, and three months since you had met them. You occupied your time with research and exploring the outside world. Ben had been fun, and he was so nice, but by God, Dean lit a fire in you that burned so brightly, all you could think about was him.

So after Ben, there was Derek. He was a bit more rugged than the soft spoken EMT, and if Ben had been fun, Derek was a fucking rollercoaster. He wasn’t more than a month long fling as he rolled through town, but fuck was it great. You liked this new freedom. You liked experimenting and having the choice. Sure, you and Jasper had a good time, and it was the escape you needed, but you two were arranged by your parents and the elders. Ben and Derek were your choices.

You loved having the fucking choice.

And if given the chance, you’d like to choose Dean.

He was an arrogant dick, but you remembered that smirk and the dark look in his eye and that filled you with an excitement you wanted to chase. You knew you shouldn’t chase. That you couldn’t chase.

Because no matter how civil he acted with you, you also knew he wanted to kill you.

But you also thought he wanted to fuck you. He was incredibly confusing.

Your phone calls were always short, and they either ended up with insults thrown at each other, or flirtatious innuendos from the hunter that always left you questioning whether or not he actually hated you. You provided them with copious amounts of information for their hunts, and Sam always took you up on your offer for spells and herbal concoctions. You thought Dean may have been coming around, but you wouldn’t know until tonight when they came to visit Bobby.

It was clear Dean didn’t trust you, and his cocky attitude made it so much worse. But he was a damn good hunter and a great brother to Sam, and he was Bobby’s family. So you’d try to be civil.

You’d try.

***

“Goodnight. Try not to kill each other, please.”

You waved Bobby off. Sam had long gone to bed, and with Bobby leaving, you and Dean were left alone.

And fuck was that awkward.

You looked anywhere but him. You didn’t want to just get up and leave. But you also didn’t want to sit here in silence. Dean seemed to have the same idea.

“So how’s it been-”

“How do you like-”

You spoke at the same time and heat rose in your cheeks. “Go ahead.”

He cleared his throat. “How do you like it outside the coven?”

Right, Bobby had told you he told the brothers a bit about your past. Not everything, but enough to help them understand you weren’t evil like Dean thought you were.

“It’s different. A good different,” you said. “It’s… amazing, really. There are so many things I never knew existed.”

“Like what?” Dean asked. True curiosity shined in his eyes and it made you smile.

“Like music. The music is amazing. I have more freedom. There is so much to explore. Television is pretty neat. There are a lot of books, too.”

“You sound like Sam in that sense,” Dean mused. You shrugged.

“It’s just better, you know?” You thought back to your father and Danny, how you wished for the thousandth time they could see this. You wondered about Margot and Matthias, how they would like it. “I wish my family could see it.”

“I heard about your dad. I’m sorry,” he said honestly. His eyes were earnest and full of something you couldn’t understand. You desperately wanted to read his mind, itched to. But he already didn’t trust you.

“Thanks,” was all you said. You fiddled with your hands in your lap. “We were supposed to do this together, you know? He was supposed to be with me.” You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. You couldn’t cry. Not in front of him. “But then I met Bobby and… he reminds me so much of my dad. It was like the goddess gave him back to me.”

Dean’s breath hitched. “I lost my dad, too.” He wouldn’t meet your eyes when you looked up at him. “Bobby was always like a father to me. More than my own was. He’s good like that.”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “He is.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, but the awkwardness had faded.

“So. You were going to be sacrificed, huh?”

You burst out laughing.

Dean stared at you in bewilderment as you laughed so hard your stomach hurt. You covered your mouth with your hands, not wanting to wake up Sam and Bobby, but you couldn’t help the laughs that came from deep in your chest.

“How is that funny?” He asked. He must have thought you were going crazy.

“We… we just had this… heartfelt conversation… and that’s what… what you follow up with?” You said between fits of laughter. You wiped a tear from your eye. “I’m sorry. That was so fucking funny.”

Dean’s lip quirked. “You’re very odd.”

That made you laugh again, and this time, he joined.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad afterall.

DEAN

“You like her.”

Dean’s head snapped up at the sound of Sam’s voice. He had just gotten off the phone with Y/n and he hadn’t realized he’d been smiling until Sam raised a brow with a knowing look.

“Winchester.”

“Hi, Y/n,” Dean had said. He smirked at her greeting. “How’re you doing?”

“Do you need something?” She asked. Dean’s grin widened.

“You.”

Y/n scoffed and Dean heard some shuffling. “Course you do. Without me, you’d crash and burn.”

“Real funny,” Dean said. “Do you have information on basilisks?”

“Of course I do,” Y/n said and Dean could practically hear her eyes rolling. “Is that what you’re hunting?

“We think so,” Dean replied. He waited for her to speak but the other end was silent for a few moments. “Sweetheart?”

“Oh- sorry. I forgot,” she said. Her voice sounded distant, like she had left the phone across the room. He raised a brow.

“What are you doing?”

“Hm? Nothing.”

Dean chuckled and leaned back in his seat amused. “Y/n.”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t tell me you’re sacrificing kittens or something fucked up like that.”

“Damn. You caught me.” A pause. “I’m actually trying to cook for Bobby.”

Dean’s smile faded from one of amusement to one of wonder. “Really?”

“Yeah and this cookbook is so confusing.” He heard a smack-presumably her palm hitting the book in frustration- and a groan. “I just want to do something nice for him.”

Dean’s heart warmed at her words and he closed his eyes. It was hard to hate her. Or in his case, act like it. Sometimes. To be honest, he found it difficult to see her as anything other than good, even if she was a witch. But she still was one, and he knew someday she would turn.

Why did she have to make it so difficult to hate her?

“It’s the thought that counts,” he said softly.

“Well. I’m still trying,” she said. “My mother stopped teaching me to cook once Danny died and the marriage to Jasper was called off. Why know how to cook when I’m supposed to be dead?”

Dean flinched at her words. “What, they don’t teach you how to magically create dinner at Hogwarts?”

She didn’t say anything for a while and Dean thought he had gone too far before she said, “Only how to sacrifice kittens.”

He laughed so hard, it made Sam jump.

Then he heard that bell-like laugh of hers through the phone and he found himself unable to stop smiling.

“Dude, stop flirting and get the information,” Sam said. He narrowed his eyes at his older brother. “We’re wasting time.”

Dean sighed deeply. “Alright, Mr. Stick-in-the-ass needs the basilisk information or else he might spontaneously combust. Sorry to interrupt your cooking, sweetheart, but whaddya got?”

They had met her four months ago. She had been with Bobby for six. Somehow, she had weasled her way into their lives, and at first, Dean hated it. But ever since that conversation with her, watching as the haunting memories of her past swam behind her eyes, how she laughed at something so morbid, how she tried so hard to be good, something had changed.

Dean wasn’t sure what to think anymore. The thought of her warmed his chest. He no longer twitched with annoyance when she spoke or frowned at the mention of her name. He eagerly picked up the phone to hear her voice, wanted to talk to her, to hear her theories.

She was weird but he liked it.

Dean knew she had a rough past. He also knew that she told Bobby some of it, but not all. She was private when it came to her life in the coven. But he knew some of what she had gone through. He knew she was arranged to be married, she knew her older brother had died and that she took his place for the ritualistic sacrifice, he knew her father died saving her. He knew she had to learn all about the world when she escaped.

And she was so smart. She had picked up on the world quickly and it surprised Dean. He knew if he was in her shoes, he wouldn’t do that well. Hell, when he came back to the life of the living after only four earth months, it took him ages to learn about all that had happened.

“I do not,” Dean said. He brushed off Sam’s comment. Liked her? Please…

Did he? He was incredibly attracted to her. Who wouldn’t be? And sure, he liked to talk to her, liked to watch her face light up when he turned on the radio, or when Bobby brought home mac and cheese. He liked to watch her dance in the kitchen and could watch her read for hours without getting bored.

Did he like her?

He shrugged off the feeling, not wanting to get involved. She couldn’t possibly feel the same way. And even if she did, she deserved better. Her gentle heart was no match for his own hell-blackened soul.

“Right,” Sam rolled his eyes. He stood from his seat and picked up his jacket from the table. “I’m going to get some food.”

“Bring me some pie,” Dean muttered. As much as he tried to get her off his mind, he couldn’t. Sam rolled his eyes again and left Dean to his thoughts.

***

At one hour, Dean called Sam, but it went straight to voicemail.

Ten minutes later, he called again. Still voicemail.

At an hour and a half, Dean was dressed and ready to go on a man hunt when his phone rang.

Sam.

He answered it with a low growl. “Dammit, Sam. You scared the shit out of me.”

“Hello, Dean Winchester.”

Not Sam.

Dean’s face went slack and his body stiffened at the cool voice that spoke from the other end of the phone. He swallowed down his anger. This wasn’t the basilisk, it couldn’t fucking talk. And it didn’t sound like anyone he knew.

Fuck.

“Who the hell is this?”

The man on the other end of the phone chuckled darkly. “I’m Zacharias.”

“I have no clue who the fuck you are but if you have done anything to my brother, I swear-”

“Yet. I haven’t touched him yet,” Zacharias said smoothly. “Although, a Winchester? I can imagine a hundred different things I’d like to do to him.”

“You sick son of a bitch.”

“I won’t touch him, though,” Zacharias told Dean. “I will, if you don’t get me what I want.”

“Why don’t I just find you and rip out your lungs?” Dean spit. His body shook with anger. “And how do I know you’re not lying?”

“Should I put old Sammy boy on the phone?” Shuffling. Grunting. Then finally-

“Dean?”

Dean sighed with relief. “Sam? Are you okay?”

Sam groaned a bit. “Define okay.”

“I’ll kill them all,” Dean snarled.

“Don’t listen to them Dean. Don’t give her to them. These people, they’re-”

“That’s enough.”

The phone was pulled away as Zacharias interrupted Sam. The man cleared his throat.

“I’m sure you don’t know who I am. We keep to ourselves, but I know who you are, and I know you have access to something I want.”

“Which is?”

“Deliver it to me, alive, and you get Sam back in one piece, not a hair on his pretty little head touched, and we will leave you be forever. We will go back into solitude. You won’t ever have to deal with us again.”

“Who is ‘us?’” Dean was growing agitated. Why was this fucker so vague? “Just get to the fucking point!”

Zacharias laughed. “So impatient, hunter.”

“Listen, Zach- can I call you Zach?”

“No.”

“Okay, Zach. If you don’t get to the fucking point, I will-”

“What? You’ll do what?” Zach sneered. “The way I see it, I have the one thing in the world you care about most. You have something I need, and I have something you need. Besides, I thought you liked causing harm.”

Dean’s blood ran cold.

“Feel free to rough her up a bit. I won’t mind. Lord knows she won’t get it once she gets home.”

She. Home.

Who was he talking about?

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, but I think you do,” Zach’s voice lowered an octave. “I’ve heard the whispers, Dean Winchester. I’ve heard about the part you played in hell, how you were acting a little too well. Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me.”

“What do you want?”

Zach’s breath hitched a bit. “I want the girl.”

Y/N

“Thank you for dinner, Y/n,” Bobby said. He patted your cheek and kissed your temple as he went to rinse his dish in the sink.

“I know it wasn’t great but-”

“I don’t get very many home cooked meals. This was fantastic,” Bobby said. Your chest swelled with pride at his words and you grinned.

“I’m glad. I just wanted to do something to say thank you. It’s not much but… I don’t know. You’ve been very kind to me,” you told him. He gave you an odd look.

“This sounds like a goodbye,” he said apprehensively. Your eyes widened.

“Oh, God no! No, this isn’t a goodbye!”

Bobby’s shoulders sagged in relief. “I’ve gotten used to another person being here. I’ve gotten used to you being here. I know I said take all the time you need, but I selfishly hope for more time.”

“Bobby, I like it here. I like it here with you. You remind me a lot of my father,” you said. You swallowed hard. “You’ve done a lot for me. You’re a good friend.”

Bobby blushed and went bashful. He shrugged and murmured some words you couldn’t hear before shuffling into the study, throwing a “thank you” over his shoulder. You didn’t take any offense. You knew he wasn’t very good at deep conversations.

You cleaned the kitchen and were about to head to bed when the phone Bobby had given you rang. You smiled smally when you saw Dean’s name flash on the screen.

“Two phone calls in one day? I must be special,” you said snarkily as you answered the phone.

“I need your help,” he said.

“What, no ‘hi, sweetheart’ this time?” You mused.

“I’m serious, Y/n,” he said. You frowned at his tone. He was usually playful with you. If he was grumpy, he was usually doing it to mess with you.

“Is everything okay?”

“No. I’ll send you the location. Get here as fast as you can.”

Your knees wobbled a bit as nerves lit a fire in your belly. “Wait, Dean, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Just get here. I’ll explain everything when you do,” he said. “Please?”

You sighed and rubbed the bridge of your nose. You were tired after researching all night, but you couldn’t just say no. If Dean was asking for your physical help, he must really need it.

“Okay. Fine. Send me the address.”

***

You knew something was wrong when you pulled the car Bobby loaned you into a small patch of trees down a dirt path off the highway.

Bobby had taught you how to drive not long after you started staying with him. You didn’t drive much, but it was cool when you did. The drive to the location only took a few hours, and within that time, you tried to think of the different reasons he would have called you. Surely he wouldn’t be asking for your help unless he really needed it. Sure, he was a lot more civil with you, even nice sometimes, but he still wasn’t a huge fan of yours. He hated witches and that hatred didn’t stop with you.

The thought made your heart fall in your chest, but you pushed the feeling away. You couldn’t feel those sort of things for him. It was a dangerous game to play.

He was leaning against the Impala when you parked the car. Slipping out of the driver’s seat, you approached him warily.

The first thing you noticed was Sam’s absence.

“Where’s Sam?”

Sam was always with him. You and Dean never met up alone. The few times you had met up with the brothers when they weren’t hunting, whether it be for some healing spell lessons, research sessions, or just lunch, it was always Sam and Dean. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

You looked Dean up and down, noticing the way his fists were clenched and tucked tightly into his sides. His eyes were wide and nervous, as if you were some cruel seductress here to kidnap him, but his mouth was screwed into a hard line. You watched him swallow hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.

“He’s going to uh… meet us there,” Dean stammered. He gestured to his car. “Get in?”

“Tell me what’s going on,” you demanded. “You’re acting weird.”

His chest rose and fell as he took a deep, settling breath. Energy crackled between the two of you as anger rolled from him in waves. You could sense his worry. His anger. You prodded your power at his mind, running a smooth finger down the inseam as you stepped into his thoughts.

She just needs to get in the car… fucking hell… I need to get Sam… quit acting so weird, Dean, you’ll put her off… get in the car!

That was all you could muster before a sharp pain stung your temples. Damn you needed practice. His thoughts made you more uneasy and you took a step back towards your car.

“Dean, tell me what’s going on!”

“Get in the car, Y/n,” he said darkly. You made a move to run but he lunged, gripping your wrist. You yanked free of his grip and pushed him away. “Just get in the car!”

You turned to face him, but your eyes met the barrel of a gun.

You couldn’t breathe. This was it. He was going to kill you. You had no doubts that he had witch killing bullets in that gun, and you just fucking knew he wouldn’t hesitate.

“This was your plan all along?” You whispered. You tried to keep the emotion off your face, but couldn’t keep it from your voice. “To get me to trust you, then you’d kill me? Really?”

“Get. In. The. Car.” He jerked his head towards the Impala. “I won’t say it again.”

You made a run for it.

You turned and made for the trees. This was the second time you would flee into the woods in your life and you really hoped there wouldn't be a third.

You heard Dean curse behind you and you sprinted. With his long legs, you didn’t get very far, and his arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you up in the air. You swung your head back to collide with his face. He yelped as you felt his nose crunch beneath the back of your skull.

That only made him angrier.

He threw you to the ground roughly, pinning you down with one knee to the center of your back. You thrashed and raised your hand, a purple glow emanating from it, ready to strike.

He quickly latched a handcuff to your wrist and your power fizzled.

“What?”

“They’re warded,” he said simply. He cuffed your other hand and gripped a fistful of your hair. “This wouldn’t have happened if you just got into the car.”

Your body ached and your scalp screamed but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you in pain. “Would you have gotten into the car if you were in my shoes?”

“I’d never be in your shoes,” he snarled, hauling you to your feet. “I’m not a filthy fucking witch.”

Ouch.

“You’re still not over that? Really, Dean?” He dragged you to the car, all the while you kicked and thrashed, but he was much stronger than you and the wards were weakening you significantly. “I’m not evil! I thought we were friends!”

His hand gripped your chin harshly, forcing you to look at him. His fingers were rough and heavy against your skin as he dug into you, making you wince. Up close like this, you could see the beautiful green of his eyes, even in the dark, and his freckles stood out against his cheeks. You wished this was happening in a different circumstance. You wished you could have been close like this in another way.

His mouth curled into a ferocious snarl as he said, “I’m not friends with monsters.”

He shoved a gag into your mouth, opened the trunk of his car, and shoved you inside before closing you in, concealing you in a darkness that swallowed you whole and muffled your sobs.

DEAN

The compound was deep in the forest.

Dean stood by the driver's side door, waiting. Three cloaked figures walked towards him, Sam hauled behind them, dragged by a crimson energy around his wrists and ankles. His face was a bit bruised and his clothes were dirty, but he was unscathed.

That didn’t relieve the guilt he felt.

“The girl.”

Dean recognized the voice as Zach’s. He gave a long look to Sam before he walked around to the trunk.

He betrayed her. He betrayed her in the worst way possible and now she was going to die because of it. She told him she trusted him. She had learned to trust him after he wanted to kill her.

And now?

Now, he had taken that trust and destroyed it. Bobby would kill him surely. His father figure had started looking at her like a surrogate daughter. Y/n had come into his life and brightened it in the best way possible. Bobby had been so excited when he talked about how well she was doing. How the nightmares had begun to fade. How her scars were barely noticeable. How she didn’t flinch as much.

How she trusted Bobby so wholeheartedly, and how she trusted Sam and Dean.

That was ruined now, and Dean had to face it. He had to face it like he had to face what happened in hell. But he wouldn’t do that. No. He was saving Sam again.

He would always save Sam.

He opened the truck and nearly broke at the sight of her tear stained cheeks. Regardless of the tears, however, she gave him a look that was pure death. It sent shivers to his core as her eyes lit purple. A warning.

A promise.

He yanked her from the trunk and half carried her to Zach.

The new High Priest of Y/n’s coven.

“Who?” Dean asked.

“Y/n. I know you know where she is.”

“Why do you want her?” Dean’s stomach curled.

“We have some… unfinished business.”

It didn’t take Dean long to realize it was her old coven, the one she had run from. The ritual wasn’t complete, and it wouldn’t be complete until Y/n was dead. So there was to be an exchange. Y/n for Sam.

“Let Sam go.”

Zach, a tall and plump man with gray hair and a bulbous nose, nodded at the two cloaked figures at his sides. They yanked Sam to Dean. Y/n writhed in Dean’s grip, desperate to escape, desperate not to return to the coven.

“The girl,” Zach said again. Dean looked down at Y/n, whose eyes were so wide with fear, he was afraid they’d pop right from her head. She looked at him then, pleading, begging for him to take her.

Instead, he took the gag off, pressed a chaste kiss to her mouth, and pushed her away.

Y/n was so surprised, she barely flinched when the cloaked figures gripped the tops of her arms.

“Dean!” She said his name with yearning as the two figures dragged her away, still chained, still terrified. “Dean, please don’t do this! You know what they’ll do! You know! Please! Sam, Dean, please!”

With an evil grin, Zach sent the brothers a wink. “Thank you, boys. We’ll take good care of her.”

Then in a blast of crimson, the four witches were gone.

Y/N

“You traitorous bitch!”

Your mother hit you again, the whip stinging across your back with the scorching pain of the sun. You keened, tears long fallen, your eyes dry and crusty from how much you’ve cried.

Dean had betrayed you. This was worse than him killing you. Worse because not only were you going to die, but your freedom had been ripped from you, stolen out from underneath you. Worse because your father’s death would mean nothing. Worse because you still loved Dean.

Shit, you loved him. You hated that you did. You hated him while you loved him.

You realized you were in love with him when you were locked in that trunk. You wondered why it hurt so much. Why although he had put you there, you wanted him to comfort you. It was fucked up and twisted, but you were in love with him.

And he had royally, utterly betrayed you.

“I’m sorry, mother,” you said for the thousandth time. The whip cracked against your back again, tearing another ribbon. It wasn’t the first time you had been whipped. It was a typical form of punishment within your coven. Your wrists were bound to the top of a pole, your shirt stolen off your body to display your previously marred back. It wasn’t bad, the scars having long faded to dull lines. But now? Now they were re-opened, new ribbons sliced into your back by your own mother’s hand.

There were some spectators still. Many had gathered around to watch the pariah be punished for committing treason. Usually, treason was instant death in the coven. But you were to die in three days under the summer solstice, the moon at its peak for the season. It wasn’t as powerful as the harvest moon, but the solstice was still great for harvesting energy, and the coven couldn’t wait until autumn to refuel their power.

So they resorted to public punishment, letting you be an example to the children of the founding families who would grow up to have kids of their own to be sacrificed. This was what would happen if you or your child tried to escape. If they did escape.

Thirty lashes later, you were slumped against the pole, your body in so much pain, you were on the brink of unconsciousness. Hands moved to untie you and you slumped to the ground once you were unbound. You cried out in agony as you hit the dirt, screaming when someone lifted you up into their arms.

“I’m sorry.”

Jasper.

You didn’t turn into his chest like you would have a year ago. But you did like the comfort his touch brought you. Your best friend.

That comfort disintegrated when he laid you on your stomach on a moth-eaten cot in one of the cells of the dungeons below the founder’s hall.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said again as he left you, someone else closing the cell door, locking you inside.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t think you could physically cry anymore.

Instead, you wallowed. You wallowed in the pain, your own self pity, your anger and sadness.

You gave up.

You were done running. You were done fighting. Nothing was going to come of it. Nothing was going to change. The man you loved had shoved you back into the cruel clutches of your coven, and you were going to die in three days time, just as you should have died under the harvest moon with the others all those months ago.

DEAN

“Dean.”

Sam and Bobby watched as Dean paced in front of them. The older Winchester brother’s shoulders were hunched, brows pinched, mouth pulled into a sour frown as he paced and thought, thought and paced.

“Dean.”

He ignored his brother again. What was the point? What was the point in talking? He had done it. He had given her up. He had traded her life for his brother’s, just like he had done his whole life.

Sam was everything to him, and although she had weaseled herself into his life, into his heart, that wouldn’t change.

The guilt ate at him. He felt uncomfortable in his own skin, an itching fury burning beneath his flesh that left him twitchy. This felt… wrong. This felt more wrong than he thought. What he did was awful. But it felt different. It felt…

No. He couldn’t feel those things. He wouldn’t. If he felt those things for her, there would be no going back, and he would just be hurt again. He would be hurt beyond comparison if he felt those things for her. If his heart raced at the sight of her, if he itched to reach out and touch her whenever she was close, if his mind thought of her when he woke up in the morning and right before he slept at night.

If he felt those things, he’d be a goner. If he felt those things, this situation would be so much worse.

“Dean, goddammit!”

He stopped, turning slowly, finally letting himself look at his brother and Bobby, the former who was the epitome of worry, the latter looking like he was mourning a daughter.

Which, Dean thought, he probably was.

Dean knew how much Bobby cared for Y/n. He could see it in the way his father figure would gently touch her cheek in passing, or press a kiss to her forehead whenever she went to bed. How he went out of his way to keep her comfortable, how he helped her heal. Bobby was never like that with the boys. Sure, he loved them and Dean knew he and Sam were like Bobby’s sons, but Bobby also grew to have a daughter figure in his life, and she had been ripped away from him by Dean’s doing.

“You’re going to get her back,” Bobby said smoothly. His voice was still and unwavering. Emotionless.

“Don’t you think I want to?” Dean asked. “I can’t leave her there. I can’t… It was part of the plan to go back and get her. But what if... what if she’s already dead?”

Bobby was suddenly in Dean’s face, gripping the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the wall. His face was contorted in a rage Dean had never seen pointed towards him and it made him gulp.

“Don’t say that.” Bobby tightened his grip on Dean’s shirt. “We’re getting her back.”

“Bobby, even if she is still alive, how would we get past an entire coven?” Sam spoke from behind them. He didn’t move to pry Bobby off of Dean.

Even Sam knew Dean made a bad call.

“We’ll figure it out,” Bobby said. He finally let go of Dean and backed up a few paces. “It’s not the right time for the ritual. She’ll be alive until late tonight if I have the moon cycle right.”

“Wha- Bobby! We’re barely going to have time!” Dean said. Alive? God, he hoped so.

“We need to go. Now.” Bobby was rushing around the study like a madman, collecting guns and knives and a flask of holy water. Dean knew the holy water would do nothing, but watching as Bobby also stuffed a bag full of salt filled rounds, he knew the man was just desperate to get her back, using anything and everything to do so.

“We’ve wasted too much time,” Bobby said. He stalked towards the door and turned back to look Dean in the eye. “You better hope she’s alive, boy.”

He slipped out the front door without another word, the brothers giving each other a long look before following after him, hoping they weren’t too late.

Y/N

As night fell, the moon peeking up from behind the trees, you prayed to your gods quietly. Your mother and siblings hadn’t come to see you since the punishment in the square the day before. You were left alone, back oozing blood throughout the night and into the morning. It still leaked, but much of the blood had begun to crust and clot. You didn’t want to know what your back looked like. It had finally healed enough from the last time you were punished six years ago that you could start looking at your back in the mirror.

You supposed you didn’t have to worry about it now, seeing as you’d be dead by morning.

The cuffs from Dean had been swapped for similar cuffs as the ones your dad melted when you two made your escape the last time. They dug into your wrists painfully, chafing them raw and bloody.

A loud bang sounded from somewhere above the cellar. Your mouth went dry. This was it.

The door to the cellar opened, revealing Jasper. He looked at you solemnly and reached down to grip the tops of your arms. You cried out as your back was jarred, and he ignored it, dragging you up the stairs and into the main hall where someone else gripped your other arm. Together, they carried you outside into the warm night. The hot air hit your back painfully and it took all your strength not to cry in pain. Instead, you bit your lip so hard you tasted blood and tried to push the pain away, not giving them the satisfaction of seeing you hurt.

They carried you to the waiting cell, which was really just a shed, and pushed you inside. You landed on your side, agony ripping through you, and you groaned. They closed the door and locked you inside as everyone prepped for the ritual.

As you laid there, having flipped onto your stomach, you tried to count the minutes in your head, counting the seconds. If you let yourself think of what was coming, you would surely go insane. This was the second time you were experiencing this and thinking about it made you queasy. Thinking about Dean left you conflicted. Thinking of Bobby and your father left you dejected.

So you just counted.

And counted.

Until a thud echoed outside the shed. Shuffling. Another thud. A squelching sound.

“Keep an eye out.”

“No, I was just going to stand here with my thumb up my ass.”

“Real mature, Dean.”

“Thank you.

“Shut up.”

“Hurry up, Sam.”

“I’m trying! It’s spelled or something.”

“You know what? Move.”

Holy shit. Was that-

There was a loud bang on the door and suddenly it creaked open. It was too dark to see, but you could make out the shadowed silhouettes of two very familiar bodies.

“Shit.”

Dean dropped beside you so fast it made your head spin. How had they found you? How did they even get to you?

His hand lifted to your head and he brushed your hair from your eyes. Your cheek was pressed against the cool stone floor of the shed, violent shivers racking your body.

“God, Dean- look at her back.”

“We’re gonna get you out of here, okay? Sweetheart, can you hear me?” Dean made to lift you but you snarled at him, reaching your hand out to slap him away from you.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you hissed. You glanced back at Sam, relief flooding you as he looked unharmed. There was some blood spattered on him, but he looked fine. You didn’t think the blood was his.

“Y/n-”

“Shut up, dick,” you said. “Sam can carry me.”

“Y/n, I don’t know how I’m going to. It’s… it’s bad. I don’t want to hurt you,” Sam said softly. He bent down beside you as well.

“I don’t think I can walk. It’s going to hurt like a fucking bitch but just do it,” you said. “How did you guys get to me?”

“A lot of fighting and a lot of bullets,” Dean said morbidly. “Bobby’s our getaway driver. He’s picking off a lot one by one.”

“He’s… what?” Your eyes widened. “Dean, there are children here!”

“He’s not killing them all, Y/n,” Dean said. “Just the ones who are fighting to kill you and trying to kill him.”

You let that sink in. They were killing your coven. They were killing the community you grew up with.

“Okay,” was all you said. Sam made a pained sound and reached for you.

Your body was lit with an excruciating fire.

Sam apologized so much, it all blurred together. You gasped and cried and whined as he carried you. Dean had laid his flannel over your bare chest, his face pained as Sam carried you out into the woods. Bodies laid scattered all around, fires licked towards the sky. The compound was devastated, but you could vaguely make out the shapes of some people fleeing into the trees across the field.

You could also see Jasper’s lifeless eyes staring at you from where his body was leaning against the shed, a single bullet hole in the center of his forehead. How you had not heard any of this, you weren’t sure. Perhaps you were too delirious with pain.

Your heart was in your throat now. Jasper. He was dead. Your best friend. Your confidant. Your lover. Dead amongst the ones who wanted to kill you.

He was going to stand by and watch you die.

You bit your lip and tried to push away the urge to vomit. Jasper was dead, you didn’t know about your mother, or Margot and Matthias. Your mother… you couldn’t bring yourself to worry about her too much. A sliver of yourself worried for her… but she didn’t care for you. Not really. The coven was the most important thing to her. Margot and Matthias however, you hoped they were alright. As long as you were alive, they couldn’t touch them.

“We’re almost there,” Sam spoke suddenly, bringing you from your thoughts. You were almost to the car, where you would be taken from this place once again.

“Hurry,” you rasped. You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on. You were gasping for air at this point, the pain constricting even your breathing.

“Bobby, start it!”

“Holy mother of-”

“Just do it! She won’t last much longer,” Sam ordered. Bobby reluctantly turned from where he started forward towards you, getting into the driver’s seat of the Impala. Sam sat you in the back seat and started to get in with you but was pulled back. He grunted as he landed on his ass, Dean taking his place.

“Not you!” You didn’t want him anywhere near you.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I’m not leaving you again.” You laid on your stomach across the back seat, your cheek resting against his thigh as he gently laid your head down onto him. The fire across your back faded ever so slightly, but it had been reawoken when Sam touched it. You wished unconsciousness would claim you but it didn’t. Tears slipped from your cheeks.

“How could you?” You whispered. You found yourself repeating it again and again, Dean’s hand stroking your hair as he shushed you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Finally, as if the gods had heard your prayer, the edges of your vision began to darken, and sleep claimed you at last.

DEAN

Dean’s back was to the wall. In one hand, he held a beer, and in the other he held a small bouquet of flowers. It was a useless sentiment, he knew that, especially when it was his doing that caused this.

Another yelp of pain from the room behind him and he flinched. Bobby and Sam had been hard at work for the past two hours on Y/n’s wounds. She had kicked Dean out promptly as soon as she regained consciousness. She was furious with him and she should be.

Dean didn’t blame her.

The door opened and Sam stepped out. His shirt was covered in blood, hands stained pink. His face, ashen and pinched, turned to look at Dean.

“Well?” Dean asked.

“She needs rest. She’s… she’s going to scar pretty badly.” Sam sighed and shook his head. “How could they do that?”

“I don’t know,” Dean said. “Is she alright?”

Sam scoffed. “No. No, she’s not alright, Dean. She was given up by someone she thought she could trust, whipped to ribbons by her own mother, and then was thrown in a cell to wait for her slaughter. So no, she’s not alright.”

Dean stiffened. “Her mother did that?”

“As punishment,” Sam seethed. “Apparently it wasn’t the first time.”

Dean thought he was going to be sick. He took a deep breath and stood up, hesitating. “I want to see her.”

“She doesn’t want to see you,” Sam said.

“I know. But I at least want to apologize, even if she doesn’t believe me,” Dean murmured. He glanced down at the flowers in his hand, a futile attempt of an “I’m sorry” and he knew it. “I…”

“I know,” Sam said softly when Dean couldn’t finish his thought. He couldn’t quite say the words yet. He didn’t even have half a mind to think them. Sam reached over to squeeze his brother’s shoulder gently. “I know.”

Dean gave a low nod and stepped around Sam, ducking into the study.

It had been turned into a makeshift infirmary. The desk had been cleared of items, a sheet thrown over it, a pillow supporting Y/n’s head where she laid upon it. Everything had been pushed away against the wall, making room for bags of gauze, salves, and other medical tools that Dean cringed away from. It smelled strongly of antiseptic and blood, making Dean woozy as he stepped inside.

Y/n’s eyes were half open and glazed over. She stared unfocused at a spot on the wall beside Dean, and didn’t flinch as he stepped right beside her line of sight. She just simply stared.

Bobby sat beside the desk, one hand in hers- which once again had bandages wrapped around her wrists- as he watched her closely. Her back had been heavily bandaged, blood staining the sheets below her body, tears long drying on her face, leaving streaks on her cell-dusted skin.

“How are you feeling?”

Her eyes lifted to him finally. They were cold and hard and so void of emotion it made Dean shiver.

“What do you think?”

Dean swallowed hard and placed the flowers on a nearby shelf. He wrung his hands together as he thought of what to say next.

“Bobby, would you mind-”

“Don’t even ask, boy.” Bobby didn’t even move when he said it. He just stayed in his position, gaze locked on the broken girl on the table, face pulled into a deep frown.

“Sorry,” Dean murmured. “Y/n, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“How sweet of you,” she said. “Now get out.”

“Please.” Dean said.

“I trusted you.”

Dean’s breath hitched. Her voice had turned soft and pained. So unlike her and so full of anguish.

“I trusted you and you betrayed me,” she said. “I don’t trust people easily, Dean. But I trusted you. I trusted you and Sam and Bobby. That’s it.”

“I know.”

“Ever since I met you, you have wanted to kill me. You never trusted me. I’m a witch, just another monster for you to kill. That night? I thought you were going to do it yourself. What you did was worse. You gave me back to the people who I ran from. Who killed my father. You took away my freedom again. You took away my choice again. You took it all away when you gave me back.”

She was crying now, tears silently dripping to the pillow beneath her cheek.

“I’m not the untrustworthy one, Dean Winchester. You are. You call yourself a hunter. You tell yourself you save people. Apparently the bar falls short as soon as you are something different, regardless of what kind of soul you are.” She pushed herself up onto her elbows to get a better look at him. Dean would never, not until the day he died, forget the look she gave him in that moment; malicious and hurt, her eyes dark and narrowed.

“Go back to hell, Dean.”

Dean thought his chest had been ripped open. He touched the skin over his heart as her words sunk in.

Go back to hell, Dean.

“Y/n, I need you to listen to me-”

“I don’t need to do shit,” she snarled. Dean winced at her tone, so dark and vicious. “I need you to leave.”

“Y/n-”

“That’s your cue, boy,” Bobby said. Dean’s shoulders slumped. He gave one last longing look to her, taking note of her eyes and how they left him again, staring unfocused at that damn spot on the wall, before turning and ducking back out of the room, finishing off his beer in the hallway and making his way to the kitchen for another.

Y/N

“Please be careful.”

Bobby loaded the last of your bags into the back of the truck. He had given you the same truck he picked you up in a year ago.

Your back was finally healed enough thanks to your spells, scars now the only reminder. You didn’t look in the mirror, not anymore, knowing how it would look. You felt them whenever you accidently touched your skin as you changed or when you showered. You could feel the raised, soft flames that licked up to your shoulders, forever imprinted into your back. The ones you had before were small. But these? These were long and large in number, the spite and anger of the one who created them clear in their abundance.

It had been a week since Dean had given you back to your coven. In that time, you hadn’t seen him again, not since he tried to apologize the night they rescued you.

Of course, you wouldn’t have needed rescuing if he hadn’t given you up.

The boys were due back soon and you wanted to be long gone once they arrived. You were going to start hunting. Really hunting. You were fine, your healing salves and spells doing their job perfectly. The scars would be the only reminder.

“I will,” you promised. You were ready for this. You needed this.

Bobby hugged you tightly, mindful of the pressure on your back, before he pushed you lightly towards the truck.

“Alright, off you go, ya’ idjit.” You grinned and got up into the truck. “You sure you don’t want to see them?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “I never want to see Dean again. Not in this lifetime.”

Which was half true. He had hurt you beyond words. He had taken your trust and destroyed it. He had given you back to the people who killed your father and planned on killing you. But at the same time, you understood. Dean’s world revolved around Sam. He would put his life on the line, and has, for his brother. A part of you understood why he did what he did. You went crazy when Danny died, knowing the one person besides your father who loved you just as much as you loved them was dead. You had tried everything, even resorting to dabbling in necromancy, but your mother had caught you, and your last hope of bringing your brother back was gone.

So yes, you understood Dean to a point. You just couldn’t get over the pain it caused you.

Bobby nodded at your words and kicked a rock in the dirt. “I hope you change your mind someday. Maybe not anytime soon. But someday.”

You blinked a few times and processed his words. You were going to answer, but thought better of it, instead going with, “I’ll call you when I know where I’m going.”

Bobby sighed. “You better,” he said. He gave you a wave. “Kick some ass.”

***

Two months later

“Another?”

The bartender tapped the bar beside your empty beer.

“Please.” He nodded and turned to pour you another. You sighed and rested your chin in your hand, your other hand lazily scrolling through your laptop in search of cases. You had just finished a ghoul case that morning and were already itching for another one.

The bartender set the beer down in front of you and raised a brow. “Hard at work?”

You shrugged and sipped your beer. “Something like that.”

He cocked his head, eyes trained on you as he cleaned a glass. “Are you busy tonight?” He shifted nervously.

You looked up at him. He was very attractive, with warm brown skin, hair black as night, and a crooked smile that would make anyone weak in the knees. You had frequented this bar the last few nights and your conversations were always nice. He was sweet and handsome and if this was before your tangle with the coven, you would have taken him up on his offer.

But the scars hadn’t faded.

“Yeah, I’ll be working all night,” you said. He frowned a bit. “And if I wasn’t leaving town tomorrow, I would take you up on that.”

He grinned a bit. “Thanks. Can I get you anything else?”

“I’m okay.” You drank your beer deeply and reached into your bag, pulling out more than enough money for the beers. “Keep the change, okay?”

“Thank you,” he said. You finished your beer and gathered up your things.

Many of your nights went like this. How were you supposed to explain the scars to someone? They were gnarly and would immediately spark fear and confusion and that was something you didn’t want to deal with.

Your phone rang and you grumbled to yourself. Unlocking the truck, you hauled yourself inside, setting your laptop down before you answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Y/n?”

“Sam?” You smiled. You and Sam had stayed in touch. Just because Dean was an ass didn’t mean you couldn’t still talk to your friend. “What’s up?”

Sam loosed a breath. Uh oh. “Look, I wouldn’t call you if this wasn’t important.”

“No.”

“Y/n, come on.”

“No, Sam.”

“Please?” Sam said. “We really need help and no one else is stepping up to bat.”

“What about Bobby?”

He paused. “He actually told us to call you.”

Damn him! You groaned. “Why do you two need help? Aren’t you like the best hunters in the world?”

Sam scoffed. “I know you and Dean have your differences-”

“-Differences!-”

“But we could really use your skill. Please?”

You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes. “You know, I can feel your puppy dog eyes through the phone.”

“Are they working?”

“... Maybe.”

“Come on. You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to,” Sam said.

You pressed your knuckles into your forehead. “Jesus- fine.”

“Thank you!” Sam said. “I’ll send you the address to our motel.”

“Whatever.”

DEAN

“Is she coming?”

Sam turned at the sound of his brother’s voice. Dean’s heart thumped heavily in his chest.

“Yes,” Sam replied. Dean grinned. “But don’t chase her away, Dean. I mean it.”

“I won’t,” Dean said quickly. “But this could be my last chance to make things right with her.”

“Dean, she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“I need to, Sam.” Dean looked down at his hands. “I need to make things right. It sucks not talking to her. It sucks not seeing her.”

“Because you lo-”

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean snapped. Sam grinned wickedly and flopped down onto his bed.

“Well don’t you?” Sam asked. He folded his arms under his head, propping himself up to look at Dean.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Dean rolled his eyes and went back to cleaning his guns. Sam had no idea what he was talking about. Dean wasn’t sure what he felt for Y/n, but he knew it was friendly. He hoped she had once felt the same way, and maybe if she knew what he felt, she could learn to forgive him.

Or this whole plan could crash and burn and chase her even further away.

Regardless, Dean was going to try.

***

Three hours later, someone knocked on the motel room door.

Sam got up to answer it but Dean shoved him back, resulting in a smack on the head, but he was able to reach the door first.

Opening it, Dean’s eyes landed on Y/n. Her eyes met his, a scowl painted on her lovely face as she zeroed in on him. She looked him up and down and hoisted her backpack over her shoulder. It was ratty and worn, but Dean noticed she took it on all her trips. He wondered what its significance was.

“Well. Aren’t you going to let me in?” She asked. Dean, startled by her voice, lurched out of the way, nearly knocking over a small table.

“Nice,” Sam mouthed, rolling his eyes. He smiled at Y/n who stepped inside, brushing past Dean quickly to give Sam a hug. “Thanks again.”

“Anything for you, Sam.” She gave Dean a dirty look. “So. What are we hunting?”

Y/N

The hunt went by smoothly.

It was a vamp nest, and a large one, definitely too difficult for two people but just easy enough with three. You had worked in tandem with boys as if you did it all your life. By the end, they both turned to you impressed.

“Wow. You’ve really trained hard, haven’t you?” Sam asked, bumping his hip with yours as you walked to the car. You wiped blood from your forehead.

“I kinda have to if I want to hunt alone.”

Dean spun to face you, blocking your path. You halted and glared up at him. God, he looked like shit. You noticed it when you arrived at the motel. His face was gaunt, eyes slightly sunken with dark circles beneath them. A permanent frown seemed etched on his lips and he looked like he lost some weight. He looked as if he was being eaten away by something.

He looked as if he was being eaten away by guilt.

A part of you took pride in that, but another part, a larger part, was sad. Sad that he had gotten this way. Sad that the man you loved was in so much despair, all you wanted to do was comfort him.

Of course, that despair was caused by himself, but you pushed that thought away.

“You’re doing what?”

“Hunting? Didn’t Bobby tell you?” You stepped around him.

“I thought he meant hunting with him, not alone,” he said. He hurried after you. “You could get hurt!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have thought you cared, Dean,” you said. You shrugged and gave him a pointed look. “Seeing as you’ve hurt me before.”

“I said I was sorry!”

“And I said go back to hell!”

“Okay!” Sam stepped between you and Dean, lightly pushing on your chest. He glared at his brother, but turned to you with a more gentle expression. “Let’s just calm down, okay? We’ll take you back to the motel.”

“Yeah. Okay.” You lightly pushed his hand away and threw open the back door, slamming it shut. You smirked when you saw Dean start forward in anger at how you treated his car, Sam stopping him with a hand on his chest again. They spoke lowly to each other before Dean slumped and got into the car, Sam close behind him.

Yeah, you absolutely regretted agreeing to help.

***

Later that night, you were lounging in your motel room, watching trash television, when there was a knock on your door.

There was a good possibility it was Dean. You knew that. Yet you still got up to open it. To be honest, maybe you’d like to hear him apologize again. It wouldn’t hurt.

You’d do it for Bobby. Not for yourself. For Bobby.

Opening the door, unsurprisingly, Dean stood there. His head was ducked slightly, face pulled into a nervous pout.

“Hey.”

You leaned against the door frame. “Hey.”

“Can I come in?” He asked. “Please?”

You bit your lip and moved out of the way, gesturing him inside. He muttered a thank you and stepped past you. You closed the door softly and turned to lean against it. He stood in the center of the room, looking down at a spot on the ground instead of at you.

“Y/n, I know you hate me. I know that.”

You felt as if you were going to be sick. “I… I don’t, you know, hate you.”

He furrowed his brow but didn’t look up at you. “You don’t?”

“I don’t particularly like you right now.” His lip quirked slightly. “But I don’t hate you.”

He rubbed his chin and turned to sit on the edge of your bed, resting his hands on his knees. One knee bounced and he rolled his shoulders a bit. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t answer but didn’t look away either. He continued. “What I did… I know it wasn’t okay. I won’t excuse myself for what I did. I just knew I had to save Sam and I went about it very, very poorly.”

You continued to stare at him silently.

“I should have figured something out. I was just so afraid. I do very… stupid things… to save him. I sold my soul and went to hell for crying out loud.” He smiled without humor. “Giving you to them will forever be something I will regret. Seeing you in that cell, bloody and broken, it’s an image I will never get out of my head.” His eyes turned misty and he swallowed thickly. “I will never forgive myself and I will live the rest of my life with that image. I will live the rest of my life knowing I hurt you and I’m sorry.”

You tentatively took a step towards him, and another, until you stood directly beside him. His green eyes finally lifted to yours, lined with tears, and you slowly sunk down to sit beside him. Biting your lip, you reached forward for one of his hands, resting it palm up in yours.

“I’ve… I’ve liked you for a long time now, Y/n,” he whispers. Your heart began to rapidly thump in your chest. “More than like, I think. And it scares the hell out of me. I’m so sorry.”

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat. You didn’t know what to say. You knew about your own feelings for him. Even after what he did, they had been buried beneath anger, but not disintegrated. You traced a line on his palm.

“All I could think about when you gave me up was how much I had trusted you, and how betrayed I felt,” you began. He stilled beneath your touch. “After, I was just so angry. Angry at you for doing that to me. Angry at myself for letting myself become vulnerable.” You hesitated before continuing. “I was hurt. Really hurt. And conflicted. I wasn’t sure how I could love someone and hate them at the same time.”

Dean pulled back from you.

You hadn’t even realized you said it until his face morphed into one of shock.

Oh, shit.

Shit, shit, shit!

You leaped to your feet, mouth open and closing, your brain racing to find something to say. But your thoughts were clouded with panic. “I don’t… I mean… I didn’t mean to say…”

You backed away from him but he stood and followed. His eyes were full of longing as he reached for your hands and brought them to his chest.

“Don’t turn away from me. Not after that.”

“I didn’t mean to say that.”

“I’m glad you did,” he told you.

“Why?”

He grinned. “Because I didn’t want to be the only one with those feelings.”

“I’m supposed to be mad at you,” you murmured. He chuckled a bit.

“I’m supposed to hate you. But look at me.”

“Look at me,” you echoed.

“A hunter and a witch, who would have thought?” He said amused. You smiled shyly.

“I… I forgive you, Dean.” He sagged in relief. “But I won’t forget.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” He lifted his hand to brush his fingers down your cheek lovingly. “Can I kiss you?”

You blinked at him, letting his words sink in. Once they did, your grin widened, and you reached up on your tip-toes to plant a soft kiss to his lips.

When you pulled back after a moment, he searched your eyes, waiting for you to push him away, to tell him to stop.

But you didn’t.

He leaned down to press his lips to yours, harder this time, wrapping his arms around your waist to lift you to gain better access. His lips were soft against yours, moving in fever, his body warm against you.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped, voice thick with lust. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

“I can’t. Because I do.” You kissed him roughly, bringing your hands up to curl in his hair. He growled against your lips and moved you to the bed, pressing you down beneath him gently. He rolled his body over yours and you widened your legs to let him fit between them. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, Dean.”

He moved to suck and kiss your pulse point, making you moan. “God, me too.”

You cupped his face and dragged his mouth back to yours. His hands lowered to the button on your jeans, popping them open before he pulled away from your mouth again. You whined at the loss and he chuckled.

“Patience, baby.”

You raised your hips as he pulled down your jeans. He kissed down your legs as he pulled off your socks and looked up at you with hooded eyes. He grinned against your skin before he kissed his way back up, landing a kiss to the top of your pelvis. He thumbed your panties.

“Are you sure?”

“God, yes.” You ran a hand through his hair, tugging lightly, and that was all he needed.

He pulled your panties down your legs, kissing the area above your pubic bone as he gently coaxed your legs further apart. You peered down at him, but his eyes were trained on your sex, his pupils dilated wide, lips slightly swollen from your kissing. Jesus, the man was like sex on legs.

He leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to the hood of your clit. You groaned and jerked at his touch, keening when his tongue ran through your folds.

“Jesus, Dean!”

He ate you out slowly at first, teasingly licking and sucking, before he moved faster, feasting on you like a starved man. His tongue prodded at your entrance before he licked inside, his thumb strumming your clit it time with his ministrations. Your hips raised off the bed, pleasure jolting through you, but he splayed his free hand over your abdomen, keeping you down, making you take everything he was giving.

“Dean!”

He smirked against you, dragging his tongue up through your folds again, sending a deep shudder over you. He hummed, flicking his tongue over your clit a few times, a moan eliciting itself from your throat. He slowly pushed a finger inside you, your back arching slightly as he curled it, pumping a few times before adding another. He suddenly sucked down roughly, a cry pushing itself from your lungs to bounce off the walls, his fingers scissoring in and out at a rapid pace. Your chest was heaving as he curled his fingers again, curling so deep, pads brushing against your g-spot with every move.

You came, falling over the edge violently as he suddenly and harshly sucked your clit into his mouth again. He continued to give kitten licks to your clit as you came down from your high. As you caught your breath, you peeked an eye open to spot him grinning like a cat.

“Don’t ruin it, Winchester.”

He laughed and pushed himself up to kiss your cheek. “But that’s so much fun!”

You smirked and reached for his belt. You unbuckled it and took it off him before throwing it aside. He kicked off his shoes and you unbuttoned his jeans. He pushed himself up to stand and shimmy out of them, peeling off his socks as he went, before he pulled his shirt up and over his head. His boxers strained against his dick, and you went to reach for them, but he stopped you.

“Take off your shirt.”

You froze. If you did, he’d see the scars on your back. They were so gloriously unsexy and you knew he’d look at you in disgust if he saw them.

“No, I don’t want to.”

You were still sitting up, but Dean bent to crawl over you. Your faces were only inches apart, his breath fanning over your face. You shivered.

“Sweetheart, I’ve seen your back before it was healed. Don’t hide from me. You don’t have to hide from me.”

“They’re ugly,” you whispered. He shook his head and lifted one of your hands to kiss your knuckles.

“Nothing about you is ugly, Y/n,” he said softly. “Don’t be ashamed of them. Please.”

You swallowed hard and closed your eyes for a moment. Once you gathered enough courage, you lifted your shirt up and over your head, knowing your scars were on full display for him if he just looked over your shoulder. You sighed and he lifted his hand to run over your shoulder, down your back, and to the clasp of your bra.

“Look at me,” he said. You complied, keeping your eyes on him as he unclasped your bra and gently pulled the straps down your arms. He tossed it behind him, leaving you naked beneath him. He leaned down to press a kiss to your shoulder. “I love every inch of you, Y/n.”

You shuddered as he kissed your neck again.

“I want you,” you whispered into his ear. You ran a hand over his back and up to scratch lightly at the nape of his neck.

He kissed you quickly and pushed his boxers down and off. His cock sprang free, and you reached down, gripping it. He groaned as you ran your thumb over his tip, spreading the pre-cum that beaded there, before stroking him a few more times.

“Do you want me?”

He cleared his throat and grunted as you squeezed him gently. “You know I do.”

You licked the shell of his ear, feeling him tremble beneath you. “Then show me.”

He snapped.

He growled low in his throat as he pushed you down gently, hovering over you, one hand gripping one of yours, the other batting your other hand away from his cock. You giggled and he gave you a pointed look before positioning himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock running up and down your slit a few times, lathering himself in your wetness. He pressed himself gently into you, only the tip of him nestled in your warmth.

He entwined your fingers together, eyes locked on yours as he slowly eased himself into you. You felt your walls stretch to accommodate him, a slight burn following, but it quickly eased as he bottomed out.

“God, you feel good,” he said lowly into your ear. He gently pulled out until just the tip of his cock was inside you before pushing back in. He moved in long, deep strokes, and hell did it feel good. You slowly began to feel yourself moving with him, trying to match his thrusts and meet him there.

“Faster,” you pleaded, the coil once again beginning to wrap around itself. He bottomed out with each thrust, and his balls slapped against your ass with each plunge. He quickened his pace, but also lifted your leg to wrap around his waist. The angle allowed him to reach depths you didn’t even know you had. He brushed against your sweet spot with each stroke of his cock, and your eyes fell shut at the intense pleasure.

“Dean, I need more,” you said breathlessly. He moved his hand down between you, his finger beginning to strum at your clit in small circles, the rhythm matching that of his thrusts. “I’m going to come.”

“You can do it, baby,” Dean said. “I’m right behind you.”

He began to rub your clit faster and harder, his hips stuttering into a sloppy pace as he neared his own end. With one more thrust of his cock against your sweet spot, you were coming, body spasming and inner walls clenching around his dick. He followed only moments after, his face buried in your neck as he moaned his relief, spilling himself deep inside you.

You stayed still for a moment, his cock still enveloped inside you as the two of you simply laid together in the afterglow. He kissed your neck and pulled out once his cock had softened inside you.

He left for a moment, disappearing into the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He swiped it between your legs, then his own, before he tossed it back into the bathroom. He climbed back into bed with you and pulled you against his chest. You winced as your scars rubbed up against his chest, but he simply pulled you tighter against him.

This was Dean. You shouldn’t be ashamed. Not around him. Not at all.

He kissed the back of your neck. “I will never, ever, hurt you again, Y/n.”

You grabbed hold of one of his hands, tugging it up to your chest over your heart, holding it there. You sighed happily and smiled.

“I know, Dean.”

He gently lifted a finger to tilt your chin back to look him in the eye. “No. You don’t. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” He kissed you softly. “I swear it.”

“I love you.”

He smiled, eyes crinkling as he looked at you. He kissed you again, gently, lovingly, and brushed a hand over the side of your face.

“I love you, too.”

#dean winchester x reader #supernatural #fanfiction #oneshot #commission #dean x reader #dean winchester #spn #waywardrose13

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plush-rabbit · 4 years ago

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LOV Kinks

A/N: Hope you enjoy them!! Also a few mention AFAB but it’s mostly kept gender neutral (some of them im not so keen on but i think it fits more into their character except for like 1 but that’s like a whole ‘nother thing)

Bubaigawara Jin:

Brat Play- Jin is a gentleman with you, but he likes the sense of control that sex gives him. He likes teasing you, towering over you with his large stature. He’ll kiss your lips, order you to get on your knees and when he’s met with a cheeky response and a killer smile, he’ll ask once more. Deny him and he’s bending you over his lap, bum exposed and smacked until you start to sniffle. He wants to see you cry a bit, to look up at him from your position and act cheeky.

Katoptronophilia- Sex in front of the mirror is a everything to him. He has you bent over, arms stretched behind your back and he holds your wrists with a single hand. He looks in front of the mirror and admires what he sees. Whether it’s your chest that moves widely or your cock that bobs and drips with arousal, he’s cupping his hands to your chest and twisting at your nipples, bringing you close to his chest and talking absolute filth to you. If you compliment Jin during this time, there’s a high chance he’ll pound into you harder, bite at your shoulder all while you tell him beautiful things about himself.

Sensory Deprivation- No matter who it is that is being tired, gagged, blind folded- Jin is having the time of his life. If it’s you, he loves to see you nervous. The way your muscles tense when he walks by, how you can tell he’s already so near when his knee makes the bed dip. It’s a feral type of arousal that he gets from it, salivating at the thought of you being terrified, comes about your body and whispers close to your ear about how he’s going to wreck you. If he’s deprived, he’s excited. Sculpted muscles line his body, tense and perfect, you’re able to see every curve and dent and he’s gasping when you touch him. He wants to be drained by the time you’re done with him.

Dabi:

Corruption- Play the dotting role of the lover- cook for him and take care of him, wash his hair and kiss his scars. He falls deeper for you. A sinking pit that wants to drag you down and bury himself inside of you until you’re molded to his shape, ruined for anyone else. Dabi wants to see you cry and think about all the perverted things you do. He stuffs you with his cock and shoves his fingers into your mouth until you’re gagging and crying. He wants to take you and fuck you on a dirty mattress, ruin the sweet mental image of who you are.

Humiliation- Dabi loves to see you hide yourself behind your palms. He wants to see you whine and deny the filthy words that leave his mouth. He thinks it’s the cutest thing when you start to hiccup and whine about how you aren’t a slut. It’s all in good fun and he knows your tears better than anyone so when you do start to actually cry, he’s apologizing but he’s jerking in the shower about that cute, scrunched up face you made. But, turn the tables on him and he’s creaming. Every single word that cuts at him is soothed over as you call him yours.

Marking- He doesn’t want to hurt you. At least more than necessary. He likes branding you. It’s usually nothing more than a slight burn that will sting for a bit, your skin flushed and hot. He’ll press himself close to you, kiss at your neck and open his mouth. He lives for leaving you marked- bruises that won’t fade until weeks later, bites that sting and a grip too tight that breaks skin. A soft press of his hand against your hip that leaves you hissing is something that he takes pride in. If you want to mark Dabi as well, he’s eager to let you. The sharp, hesitant bite of your teeth, the way you lap it over with the flat of your tongue is so cute, he’s thrusting deeper into you.

Iguchi Shuichi:

Body Worship- Shuichi has a bit of self-esteem issues given the way he grew up and the organizations that are highly against his type of quirks. Run your hands through his hair, kiss his hands and comment how nice his hands are and tell him how pretty his scales are he’s melting. If he’s being praised- told how gorgeous he is, complimented on his scales during sex, and he’s nothing but putty, slow, sensual sex where he keeps himself close to you, nails scratching down your skin and threatening to rip the soft skin. His compliments towards you are the standard type- being told how pretty you are, how you’re perfect- but as it continues, he starts highly praising you, listing everything that he loves about you while kissing and nipping his ways toward your sex.

Breeding- Due to his quirk, there’s a bit of an animalistic side to him. He’s always close to you during sex, bodies pressed and meshed, legs intertwined and arms wrapped tightly around you but it hardly ever steps into the breeding category unless you mention it to him. There are times where Shuichi can’t help himself, pumping himself into you, head buried into your neck and a hand will curve over your stomach. It’s during this when he’s absolutely filthy- talking about how you’re going to be full of children- eggs that will fill your belly- slimy and completely aroused when he knows that he can smell your ovulation. Perhaps it isn’t the thought of raising children that makes him excited- though he can’t deny that he hasn’t thought about having children with you- but rather the entire aspect of breeding. To see a swollen belly, full breasts, your leaking cunt, the way that he gets to be the only one to have his seed so deep within it and see the dazed look on your face after he orgasms.

Odaxelagnia- While your teeth might not be strong enough to pierce his skin, he can’t deny the pleasure from it. He can feel the pressure, the way your spit pools onto him in heavy strands that trail down his body. He enjoys it very much. While Shuichi may not be the tamest nor the wildest, he can appreciate a good mark. He was given sharp teeth for a reason. He’ll bite around your body- thighs, stomach, shoulders, and anywhere else he happens to be- and admire the welts that form. During his breeding episodes is when he’s most likely to bite, tearing up and shaking, a faint copper taste in his mouth and then he feels you yank on his hair. It’s a sharp pain and he remains latched onto you, soothing away the pain with his tongue. He loves to see you marked, covering his bite where he can see and a few times where others can see.

Sako Atsuhiro:

Helplessness- Atsuhiro is a gentleman- a bit of a flirt, but a gentleman nonetheless. He’ll always help you, take amazing care of you and give you whatever you need without a second thought. However, during sex he is a different person. He feeds a bit off of your helplessness. He wants to watch you struggle- whether it's roleplay or bondage- he wants to see you twist and turn, bite your lips and be flushed in your face. He thrives on seeing you squirm, the way your legs tense when he runs a gloves hand over you or even the way that you act naïve, begging him for help with doe-eyes. It fuels a bit of his need to be there for you, to give and fulfill your wants while also making sure he is pleased as well.

Impact Play- The marks he leaves never linger for long. He prefers to spank at your bum, to let his hand arch over the fat, let his fingers dance above your sex and see the way that you grip onto the sheets or pillows in fear. He prefers his hand but he isn’t above using a belt or a flogger if you seem up for it. He loves the dark print that it leaves, the way you whine out the numbers that you can barely keep a track of. Atsuhiro would never hurt you, but there’s something about seeing you at his complete mercy, the way that you’ll cry and beg to be good, how you’re sniffling and slowly turning on your back, so careful to not rest against your sore bottom. He likes seeing his print on you, the way you cry and whine, how you’ll bend your legs and hold the back of your knees as he rocks into you.

Risk- Atsuhiro is a showman. He likes to be the center of attention, to garner everyone’s attention and it shows. His personality is loud, the way he never reveals his face and keeps it behind a mask, and how he prefers letting people know what he’s done rather than keeping to the shadows. And that’s why voyeurism does it for him. He wants the risk of being caught, to have people see your naked body, sex played with his hands so expertly that it should be a crime. He so often wants to see you come undone, to run the risk of having people known what he’s doing to you- late trains are a special occasion when going out with him- sitting on his lap and letting the rumble of the train vibrate and move your body against him. A metal hand reaching to pull at your teats and a soothing voice in your ear to tell you to be quiet, as you struggle not to make a sound behind a closed mouth. There’s a part of him that wants to get caught, to see people’s reaction, to give a performance and show them how good you can look.

Shigaraki Tomura:

Internal Cumshots- Being inside of you bare is already so risky. He’s deep within you, huffing and panting, mindless fucking where your bodies stick together because of sweat. You feel so good- warm and soft, the lewd shucking noises enhanced without the feel of latex. But the real prize comes when he releases inside of you. He knows the risk, but seeing you full with his semen- thick, slow drops oozing out of your abused hole can get him going for another round. He can almost imagine your belly swelling with his seed. The titillating look on your face as he enters you once again is enough to make him ejaculate once more.

Mommy- He has mommy issues. It doesn’t matter whether Tomura is on top or on beneath you, he’s still a submissive when it comes to you. He’s whimpering, begging for you to touch him, all while he paws at your chest, lips kissing feverishly at every inch of your skin until he latches on a breast, the teat in his mouth and he’s humping you like a dog. You could be cuddling, threading your fingers through his hair and calling him a good boy and he’s already erect, fucking you between your thighs and begging for you to touch him.

Somnophilia- Tomura enjoys coming into your room, watching as you sleep, climbing above you and slowly fondling you until you start to whimper and pant in your sleep. He watches with wide eyes, pupils dilated, his skin hot and flushed and when he enters you, you’re already stretched. He loves the bit where you start to wake up, eyes blinking away sleep but slowly returning to your slumber. On the same note, he loves waking up to you already touching him, his cock around your hand as you jerk him off, your lips against his unmoving ones, trailing down to kiss at his chest.

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outerbankspreferences · 4 years ago

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Relax - Rafe Cameron

Word Count: 2314

Warnings: slightly proofread, and SMUT 18+

MASTERLIST

A/N: So this was a request and I’m super late on it, but I hope you like it! Send me more request, I love doing them!

Never in a million years had you thought you would be dating Rafe Cameron, kook royalty. You knew him when you were in high school, or better yet you knew of him. Rafe had a reputation about sleeping around with girls and causing trouble. He was two years older than you, only seeing him when you went to Sarah’s house for a school project.

You would be lying to yourself if you said you never had a thing for Rafe, all the girls did. You assumed you never had a chance, not that there was anything wrong with you, but you weren’t his type. You weren’t overly keen on going to parties, more enjoying a quite night in instead.

This is what drew Rafe to you. He loved the calming effect you had on him. He was always so busy that when he would spend time with you it was like he got to slow down for a minute. When he first actually started talking to you, he enjoyed getting to know you.

Sarah had invited you to one of the parties at her house, she begged you to come. Just to shut her up, you planned on making a small appearance, leaving early enough to catch a movie. They were celebrating Rafe’s birthday and almost everyone on the island was there. Rafe was living for the energy ad vibe going through the house. All you could hear was music and people yelling.

You caught his eye when you first walked by, catching him off guard. You made your way through the crowd to find something to drink and then meet up with Sarah. You were pouring yourself a drink when Rafe came up slightly scaring you, “hey, it’s Y/N right?” he asked. You looked up completely froze in the moment. “Uh, yeah it is.” You reply, smiling into your cup. “I didn’t think you were the partying type Y/L/N, it’s nice to see you.” He winked at you, making you go weak in the knees.

You guys talked all night, Rafe ignoring everyone else just to speak to you longer. After that night he got your number from Sarah and you guys had been inseparable since. The two of you had been together four months when you started getting nervous. You had yet to tell Rafe that you were a virgin out of fear that he would make fun of you. It honestly scared you to have sex considering all the horror stories you had heard from your friends.

There were countless times you would be making out in his room and you thought you were ready just to become too hesitant and start to back off. Rafe would never force anything on you if you weren’t ready but he never had to wait this long. He started to think it was him, that you weren’t into him in a sexual way. He had never been so insecure about the topic before.

It was one of those times, you guys had been making out all afternoon, you were on top of Rafe, grinding down him enjoying the sounds he was making. He placed his hands on your ass, grabbing it slightly. You started to panic; overthinking everything that was happening. Rafe could sense you tensing up and stopped kissing you, “is everything okay Y/N?” he asked looking into your eyes.

You could get lost in those eyes, but not today. You felt exposed to him, and you weren’t even naked yet. You look down not wanting to meet his intimidating stare. His hand reached up to brush some hair out of your face, making him look at you, “baby please, talk to me.” He almost whispered, as if speaking to loud would scare you off. You looked at him, taking a deep breathe. “I-uh-I’m a virgin.” You stutter out, cheeks turning red.

Rafe had never thought of you as a virgin. It was never something that crossed his mind. He assumed from how beautiful you were thought you would have to fight guys off you. “I’m sorry I never told you. I guess I was scared, and I know it’s going to hurt, I’ve heard the stories.”- you rambled on trying to fill the awkward silence. He cut you off by kissing you. “If you’re not ready, that’s okay. I’ll wait.” You thought about it for a minute. You trusted Rafe more than anyone, maybe you were ready.

You pulled him in for a heated kiss. Slowly kissing down his neck, nipping at his jaw lightly. He moaned at the feeling, “I think I’m ready.” You spoke seductively. He pulled you closer to him kissing down you neck, nipping at places then smoothing it over with his tongue. You were a mess already and he hadn’t even taken your clothes off.

His hands rubbed small circles on your waist, slowly moving your shirt. Rafe knew it was a big deal that you were allowing him to see this part of you. He pulled at your shirt, “can I take this off love?” He spoke between kisses. You let a breathy moan, “yes please, take it off.” He helped you get out of your shirt, leaving kisses all over your chest and collarbones. He unclasped your bra with one hand letting it fall of your body. You started to get that uncomfortable exposed feeling again, and Rafe could sense it. “Do you want to stop?” he asked looking up at you. You shook your head no. “I need words love.” He spoke kissing your lips.

“No-no I don’t want to stop.” You whispered to him, kissing him again. Rafe started kissing down your chest, not getting were you needed him most. You were squirming in his lap. “Holy fuck Y/N, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He spoke, gripping your waist looking up at you. He loved seeing that blush creep onto your face. You were about to speak when your words got lost in a moan, Rafe had finally taken your nipple into his mouth. He sucked gently, massaging the other one. It felt amazing, and you could feel yourself getting wetter.

Rafe continued his assault on your breast making sure to leave some hickeys for you to find in the morning. He flipped the two of you over, so he was above you. Rafe started kissing down you body until he got to your pants. He tugged slightly, asking permission before taking them off. He took a second to admire your soaking panties. He took one of his fingers running them up your core over your panties. “You’re so wet for me baby. Tell me, have you ever made yourself cum before?” he asked looking up at you. You squirmed in his touch, basically giving him his answer but you knew he wanted to hear you say it. “No-no I haven’t Rafe.” You speak blushing again. He pulled himself up to kiss you one more time, “then your in for a treat love.”

He started to kiss your core over your panties, never losing eye contact with you. If it were anyone else, you would have been uncomfortable but with Rafe it made you drip more for him. He gently pulled your panties down, placing light kisses on your thighs. “Please Rafe, I need you.” You moaned out as his breath got close to your core. He loved to hear you beg for him, he could listen to it all night. He licked a long strip up your pussy and you almost jumped out of the bed. It felt amazing. Rafe was moaning into your core making the vibrations go straight to your clit.

Most times he would have been a bit rougher, but he didn’t want to overwhelm you. He heard you say something, and he pulled away, “not please Rafe, I want more. I need more.” You spoke more clearly, “are you sure?” He asked watching you nod at him. He took one of his hands that was holding yours and started rubbing small circles on your clit before he went back in with his mouth. He slowly pumped on of his fingers in you curling them up to your g-spot. You thought you were seeing stars, making sure to tell him how good it felt. He took the compliments as encouragement and added a second finger. With the stimulation on your clit and being so wet, it didn’t hurt when he added the second, you just pushed your hips closer to his. You winced grabbing his wrist he put the third in. He stopped immediately, kissing your thighs. “you have to relax beautiful; I have to stretch you out first.” He spoke, still rubbing circles on your clit. “I think I might cum.” You spoke out, having a warm feeling in your belly. Rafe started going a little faster, bringing you closer to the edge. “Come on baby, come for me. You can do it.” He encouraged you, grinding into the bed to relieve some of his own tension. He felt your walls clench around him as you let out loud moan, “that’s my girl. You did such a good job.” He spoke licking you clean; he didn’t stop until you were pushing his head away from the overstimulation.

“Do you want to keep going love?” He asked, pushing some of your hair out of your face. You were trying to regulate your breathing. All you could think about has him on top of you, and you screaming his name. “Yes, I want you Rafe, make me yours,” You whisper to him, blushing at the words. He leaned down and kissed you and you could taste yourself on his lips. You moaned into the kiss, as you started to rub him through his pants. Rafe took the hint and took the rest of his clothes off, reaching for a condom out of his bedside table.

It was the first time you had seen his dick. You heard that Rafe was packing but you had no idea he was this big. He laughed when he saw your eyes go wide, “don’t worry, it’ll fit baby.” He spoke and you completely forgot that he had to stretch you out with his huge cock. He put the condom on and grabbed another thing of the draw. He showed you a small red vibrator. “This will making this feel better at first, but we don’t have to use it if you think it’s going to be too much for you.” He spoke, waiting for you approval before doing anything. You kissed him again, “can we stop using it if it gets to be too much?” You ask, kind of nervous. “we can do whatever makes you comfortable.” He replied, smiling into the kiss. “okay let’s try it.”

Rafe turned the vibrator on the lowest setting, placing it on you hot clit. It was cold which added to the effect it had on you. you squirmed slightly while getting used to the feeling. “Baby, you need to relax for me, it’s going to hurt more fi you don’t.” He spoke up. You took a deep breath, fully relaxing under his body, he lined himself up, and giving you one last look to make sure this is what you want, you smiled and shook your head confirming that it was okay. He started to push into you. he had to force himself to go slow, not wanting to hurt you. it did burn slightly but Rafe was right about the vibrator, it did sort of make things better.

You both let out loud moans as he bottomed out in you. “Holy fuck Y/N, your so tight.” He moaned out. Rafe felt like he was in heaven. Of course, he had sex before, but he never shared a connection with anyone like he had with you. He knew that he loved you and you were special to him. “You can move now.” Your words pulling him from his trance. Rafe started at a slow pace, not wanting to overwhelm you with the vibrator. You didn’t expect him to be so vocal in bed. “Holy fuck your so amazing” and “you’re taking me so well baby” kept being repeated by him while all you could do was moan, not being able to focus on anything else. You felt the warm feeling your belly again, wanting to chase your high.

“Oh god Rafe, please go faster I’m going to come.” You spoke out between moans, and Rafe started going to deeper hitting your g-spot again and again. “Come for me baby, you can do it.” He spoke turning the vibrator up a little bit, he could feel your pussy clenching around him being him closer too. You let out a loud moan, forcing him over the edge too. “Holy shit, that was amazing.” He spoke laying on top of you. You giggled, kissing the top of his head. “I’m glad my first time was with you.” You spoke Rafe looking up at you. He kissed your chest, “thank you for letting me be your first time. Now how about he takes a bath and clean up?” He suggested getting up and heading towards his bathroom. You tried to get up put your legs felt like jello, causing you sit back down. “Hey now, wait there I’ll get the water ready and come get you.” He spoke noticing your lightheaded moment. Once the bath was ready, he came in and carried you in, getting in behind. You sat between his legs, and he poured warm water over your back. You sigh in content, feeling completely relaxed with him. “I hope I’m not reading this wrong, but I love you so much Y/N.” He murmured against your sick.

You turn around and kiss him as hard as you can. “I love you too Rafe, more then you’ll ever know.”

TAGLIST:

lemur46 fttayla @drewstarkeysbitchh

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe x you #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron dirty imagine #rafe cameron outer banks #outer banks #outer banks smut #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #drew-starkey-imagine

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bruhlsbees · 4 years ago

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bloodlust ; 1/2 || vampire!laszlo kreizler x fem!human!reader

summary: after a cut to the hand, you finally accept the truth of who dr. kreizler really is

pairing: vampire!laszlo kreizler x fem!human!reader

warning: dark!laszlo, biting of flesh, blood, minors dni, 18+

a/n: the format might be a little messy as i wrote this in the car on my phone but i hope you enjoy the first part of my vampire!laszlo fic!!!

You tried so desperately to avoid him, not wanting him to catch you in your current state. You rushed from the courtyard and into the institute, going to your quarters, you held onto your own hand, the blood pooling from your palm and dripping through your fingers and onto your dress, soaking into the grey material.

It was all accidental, cutting your hand so deeply. You had been going after one of the children in the courtyard who had decided that a broken piece of glass was his current interest. You didn’t want him to get hurt and you snatched it away from him, cutting yourself in the process. It was a surprise that his little hand didn’t get cut too, but you didn’t stay long to dwell.

Looking back though, you did find it odd how you endured the cut and he didn’t. Digging deeper, you remembered seeing his eyes darken at the sight of all the blood, his tongue running along the bottom to lick his lips. You thought it was just the sight of blood that made him queasy, but soon you’d find out it was something much more sinister.

While managing to avoid more people than expected, you snuck into your room and shut the door, latching the lock behind you before going into your tiny bathroom, holding your hand under the faucet of the sink while you turned the water on, letting the icy water hit your wound to stop the bleeding.

You let out a hiss at the coolness of the water, your hand pulling back briefly to adjust for a moment before returning under the faucet. Even with the harder water pressure, the blood from your hand didn’t seem to stop. It worried you, would you have to seek higher medical attention?

It wasn’t like you didn’t know how to stitch a wound, it was stitching your own wound that troubled you. The feeling of your own pain made you queasy, light-headed. Bending down to look under the sink, you pulled out your small medical kit, opening it up to find some bandage for your palm. Once you found the roll, it didn’t take long for you to bind your hand.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, you made your way to your dresser, pulling out a clean dress to wear instead of your ruined one. You found it difficult to undress and redress yourself with one hand, huffing in frustration as you pulled your nightgown over your head. It was thin, able to see your figure underneath - the pinks of your nipples hardening and poking through the material.

It was getting darker out, meaning that Mrs. Gorenko would be taking the children to bed soon. You could retire to your room for the evening, so perhaps it worked out not being able to properly dress yourself, as you had no reason to.

The sudden knock at the door made you jump, turning and looking towards your locked door before moving towards it, grabbing your robe from the back of your chair and wrapping it around you. “Just a minute!”

You unlatched the deadbolt and twisted the handle, opening the door to see Dr. Kreizler standing outside of your door, a frown on his face.

“Oh, good evening, Doctor. What can I do for you? Please, come in.” You suddenly felt embarrassed, having essentially your boss see you in your nightgown. You wrapped the robe tighter around you, holding the front of it shut with your hand, your cheeks pink, “I do apologize, I ruined my dress not too long ago and and decided to simply retire to bed early this evening.”

Stepping beside you, Dr. Kreizler made his way into your room, standing near your desk that was beside the bathroom. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, or wanting, but for some reason you felt compelled to shut the door after him. When he heard the door click and watched you turn to face him, he caught sight of the bandage around your left hand, pointing to it.

“What’s this?” He questioned, motioning towards your hand. He looked at you for consent, nodding back as you nodded at him before crossing his left arm over him to grab your hand. He flipped it over so the palm was facing up before he sloppily began to untie the bandage.

“Doctor! It’s not yet healed, it’s rather mes-”

But he didn’t care. In fact, Kreizler was blood lusted over the sight. You noticed that his expression faltered into the same one as the boy who had the piece of glass in his hand from earlier. His darker eyes seemed to grow even darker, his mouth falling open, his pink tongue poking out to run over his lips.

You were confused at his expression, unable to point out what his gaze meant. His head dipped down, your hand pulling closer to him, until you felt his tongue run along the cut on your palm, licking the blood that dripped. Your mouth fell open, going to ask him what he was doing, but the only thing that escaped your throat was the gasp when you felt his canines sink into your palm.

They felt sharper than you had expected. Although, you hadn’t ever been bit by a grown man before. You imagined canine teeth were duller, but these felt sharp, like having a pair of scissors nick into your flesh. The initial pain from his bite soothed quickly into a low burning, however there was this pleasure inside of you building up from it.

As you watched him, you noticed his eyes staring up at you as he sucked at your palm, his moans vibrating off of your hand and down your spine. You let out your own moan, causing Kreizler to form a smirk against your palm, although it wasn’t entirely in pleasure, but more fear.

“Doctor, I- what are you doing?” You finally mustered up to ask, your eyes glazing over with tears. You tried to pull your hand away from him, but his grip only tightened, this time, a whimper escaping.

He pulled away from your palm with a ‘pop’, blood staining his beard and turning his pearly white teeth red, a sigh escaping his lips.

“My dear, you taste devine.” He admitted, licking his lips and catching as himself with a laugh as his eyes began to roll into the back of his head. He was drunk on your sweet blood, taking everything inside of him to not turn you into one of them there and now. Then again, your blood was so sweet, it’d be hard to not just drink you dry.

You stumbled back once his grip on your hand loosened, bringing your hand to your chest, ignoring the blood that dripped down your arm and onto the front of your white nightgown, now exposed. You felt your heartbeat in your ears, pounding as you suddenly became weary with Dr. Kreizler being in your room.

“Doctor, I’m tired, perhaps you should le-”

“Come now, don’t be shy now.” He took a step forward and when you took one back, you felt your back hit the door, a laugh escaping his lips. “I do enjoy this fear that is radiating off of you. Makes it even more fun to drink from.”

When he teasingly chomped your way, he seemed to find the playful behavior funny, although you didn’t find it funny at all. He sensed your growing annoyance, mixing in with the fear that already settled in. He took one final step closer to you, moving the robe off your shoulders and letting it fall to the ground around you. His fingers ran down your bare arms, smirking to himself as the cold air hit your skin, goosebumps rising.

“I could just eat you up...and perhaps I will. Would you like that? Mark you up and leave you until you are begging for the sweet release of death? Is that what you’d like?” He enjoyed hearing you whimper, shaking in his grasp until the sudden switch of desperation filled you.

You didn’t know for long now, but you did. The idea of him being a vampire still confused you, unfamiliar with the truth to it all, but the immortality aspect, that was what drew you in. That was why you were there in the first place, your obsession with death yet the immense fear of it as well that led you into your hysteria. You weren’t perfect, you had your flaws, and that’s why you were at the Kreizler Institute.

“I’m your doctor, you know...I know what you crave, what you fear. I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to realize what I really am. Or perhaps you always have, and you just told yourself a lie to help you sleep at night. Although, I do find it quite sweet, how pathetically oblivious you are to your surroundings.”

You felt his left hand move to your jaw, tilting your head to the side to stretch your neck, exposing the smooth flesh, his weak hand slacked at his side. He hummed at the sight, his eyelids drooping down partially as he leaned his face forward, pressing his nose to your neck as he inhaled. He smiled against your skin when he felt you lean into him, one hand at his coat, the other on his wrist, keeping him tight against you.

“Please...Doctor, I-I don’t want to die. Let me live forever,” You begged, whimpering when you felt his beard tickle your neck. “Let me live with you forever.”

He didn’t know whether it was you begging for him to simply turn you or the fact that you wished to live with him specifically forever. Either way, it was enough to send the man into a frenzy, grabbing the back of your neck suddenly to let his fangs sink into you.

It all happened so suddenly, but the pain that came with it was unbearable. You let out a gasp and began to wither in his grip, trying to pull away from him as your vision went spotty, your head spinning and your legs shaking. It felt like you were going to throw up, but you didn’t have to at the same time.

“D-Doctor…”

He didn’t hear your weak pleads with him, your body slacking in his touch as he drank from you deeply. Kreizler couldn’t contain his thirst at this point, his mouth filling quickly with your blood before swallowing deeply, feeding off of you until his stomach began to ache, signaling that it was time to stop before you died rather than change.

When he pulled away, forcing your neck off of him, he stumbled back, gasping for air as his face specked with your blood. He didn’t mean to be so selfish, but when he finished feeding he forgot about your state entirely, leaning against your bedpost while you fell to the floor, lying unconscious in front of him.

He was gasping to try and regain his balance, frowning at the sight of you on the ground. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to lift you, given his arm, so he stayed and sat in your room until you were awake.

Kreizler fell back onto the foot of your bed, pulling out his handkerchief from the inside of his coat pocket before beginning to dab your blood from him, cleaning himself up as he waited for you to awake in your new state.

As a new fledgling, he knew you would be starving, hungry for a thirst like no other. He remembered when he first turned, the burning sensation in his throat as he begged his master for help. He wouldn’t be cruel to you though, no, he would be patient and guide you through this as his new lady of the evening.

Time passed on and you soon woke up, groaning as you rolled from your side and more onto your stomach, the pain in your neck throbbing as you blinked awake, staring ahead at the door in front of you.

Your memory was foggy, not remembering much that could explain why you were on the floor. You also began to notice the sour taste in your mouth, how your throat bubbled and tightened, craving something you never craved before.

“Ah, so she’s finally awake.”

You jumped at the voice behind you, although your body seemed to be frozen to the ground. Your eyes flickered side to side, desperately trying to think of a way to sit up. You pressed your good palm to the floor and slowly pushed yourself up, turning to look behind you.

And then it all came back to you. The cut on your palm, Dr. Kreizler coming in, the bite on your neck. Did what you think happened finally happen?

With a shaky hand, you reached up and felt the bite mark on your neck, your fingers skimming the wound as you looked up ahead at him, eyes widened. He smirked almost proudly at what he had done to you, extending his hand out to you.

“Come, you must be starving. We need to get you something to eat.”

You didn’t want to take his hand, but you felt almost compelled to. And with his help you stood, regaining your balance before looking up at him. He guided you out of your room, ignoring the sudden protests coming from you as you tried to cover yourself more.

As you continued throughout the halls, defending down step after step until you reached the door to the basement, something told you that what you were about to eat wasn’t exactly food.

#the alienist #dr laszlo kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler imagine #dr laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler smut #minors dni #vampire!laszlo #vampire #au

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colossal-fallout · 4 years ago

Text

@cursedranger121 asks; Mikasa x Male Bodied Reader modern setting. MBR Mikasa at a party. I'll let you pick kinks used, but any possessive elements from Mikasa in it would just be *chefs kiss* perfection.

Male Reader X Mikasa Ackerman - Modern AU

AN: Sorry if this seems a little rushed. I was half way through earlier and Tumblr decided not to save the draft. It’s not the first time it’s happened either... sigh.

Warnings: NSFW. 18+ Orgasm denial. Smut. Alcohol consumption. Slight possessiveness.

Your stomach flutters and churns with eagerness and excitement as you pull up to the booming house, the siren call of a night of fun and debauchery calling your name.

As you step out of the cab, your name is already called over the music from the people spilled out onto the lawn. You turn your head to see Eren and Jean standing with a beer in hand, raising them at you in a greeting. You begin to walk towards your friends as the cab makes its way back down the long, isolated country lane. Historia’s house is ideal for parties. It’s nestled within the middle of nowhere. No one is to be disturbed and the chance of someone calling the cops for a noise complaint is minimal.

“What took you so long?” Jean asks before putting the glass bottle to his lips.

“Work.” You sigh, gladly taking a fresh bottle Eren hands you.

The hiss of the suds is like music to your ears as you finally get to have fun with your friends after a long week. You relish the bubbles and foam that dance on your tongue with a bitter tang, the sound of laughter from within the house already lifting your spirits to a higher place.

Your attention is pulled when Historia calls your name in a greeting and a wave from the porch as she keeps her farmhand boyfriend company as he sparks up a cigarette.

The three of you slink over and exchange greetings - Sasha's booming laugh ringing from somewhere inside the house.

"Mikasa's been looking for you." Historia mutters as Jean and Eren head inside.

Your cock twitches in a hopeful flutter at those words. Your eyebrow arcs as you shrug it off casually.

You and Mikasa had been chatting over the months. You'd even went on a date which had to be cut short because work had called you in. You were sure she'd lost interest until Historia lets out a small giggle.

"She's been looking forward to you coming."

Maybe you still do have a chance?

Tampering down your eagerness you nod in thanks for that titbit of information as you follow your best friends into the interior of the Hallway.

Your memories decided to remind you of the moments your eyes had accidentally rested upon her beautiful chest during a conversation or her peachy ass as you headed up the stairs on your date. Her soft skin, her scent... It drove you wild. Those sweet lips and October sky blues along with that adorable little blush she hued whenever you stared a little too long... you were more than happy to see her again.

An hour went by in the blink of an eye as you caught up with your friends and let loose. Mikasa was indeed happy to see you, greeting you with a warm hug and her smile was evident from across the room. You tried to ignore the sly nudging's from Eren’s elbow and the envious pout from Jean as you chatted with the raven-haired beauty.

At one point, you were about to take a swig of your drink when Annie purposefully knocked herself into you, your suds soaking the front of your shirt.

“Ah, shit.” You sigh. “What was that for?”

“Oh, lighten up.” She beams.

The pink hue across her cheeks showed she was either drunk or just blushing at your presence; which you seriously doubted.

“How have you been?” She then asks casually, as if you weren’t now patting your chest dry with your hand fruitlessly.

“Good thanks. Yourself?”

Before she can even reply you flinch at the surprisingly soft touch of someone snaking their arm around your waist, followed by a familiar scent.

“Hey.” Mikasa smiles, giving you a little squeeze.

Annie’s eyes roll. “Do you mind? We’re kinda in the middle of a conversation.”

All your mind can focus on in your touch starved state is the feeling of Mikasa’s chest pressing against your arm.

“Yeah, I do mind.” Mikasa smiles in reply. “He’s with me tonight. Okay?”

Annie shakes her head and walks away, muttering. “Whatever. Not worth my time anyway.”

The raven-haired beauty pushes her nose against yours, her eyes crossing as they focus on your orbs. “You’re all wet. Come on, let’s get you more comfortable.” She laces her fingers within yours before leading you up the stairs, the building still vibrating under your feet from the thumping music.

You were expecting her to take you to the bathroom to get dried up. But she’s taken you to one of the spare bedrooms, locking the door behind you and guiding you to sit on the bed. A cool and welcomed breeze rolls over you from the open window, the light drapes floating in the updraft. You weren’t sure why you were focusing on that. Maybe you were nervous, as Mikasa begins to unbutton your wet shirt.

“We’ll hang it to dry…” she whispers, her eyes enlarging as more of your skin becomes revealed to her. You couldn’t identify why just yet, but as her face came close to yours, all you could think about was that beautiful draft from the damn window. Your head snaps away from hers as she pushes the material down your arms.

Your mouth becomes dry as her now heavy lidded ocean blues close the gap between you.

“Mikasa… how much have you had to drink?” you mutter, realizing it was your conscience preventing you to enjoy the moment.

An etch of crimson sketches across her nose as she shyly glances away. “You’re so sweet. Don’t worry. I’ve only had two drinks all night.”

Her hands then slide up your chest to your shoulders, her slender fingers brushing up and circling your back. “Don’t you want me?”

Of course, you do.

You gaze down into her eyes, hopeful with a bittersweet undertone of a fear of rejection. As if you would.

“YEE YEE!”

Your heads snap to the window as the sounds of Connie and Sasha heading out into the back yard for air carries up on the breeze above the muffled booms of the bass.

You both let out a small laugh. You adored your crazy friends.

Knowing she wasn’t intoxicated; your confidence returns - your hands running through her hair as you firmly pull her gaze to yours.

“I want you too. You’re so beautiful…”

Her blush deepens as you press your lips against hers, a small moan already emitting from her throat. By the sounds of it, she’d wanted you for a while now.

You’re not sure how long you’d made out with her for. You’d pulled her down to lie next to you, your hands palming her breasts, her hair and shape. But however long you had been, she was a flustered mess – her hair dishevelled and face deep red as your lips trail down her neck, leaving sucks and nips, her skin darkening as you mark her. You could tell she was becoming desperate for more as her hips begin to absent mindedly grind on your thigh, her sex desperate for some friction from you. Your own throbbing cock was an indication of your own yearning as you sit up slightly, pushing her onto her back. Your hands fumble her shirt, quickly removing it - her breasts spilling out pulling out an unintentional groan from your depths of perversion.

“Fuck...” You gasp at the sight of her squirming under you.

Your cock is pulsing, begging to be inside of her as you pull down her pants and sighing as the scent of her arousal rolls down with the material. Her pussy is small and pink, neat and gleaming as if weeping for you to touch it.

Your hands harshly

Grab the underside of her thighs, pushing her knees to her chest as you begin to sensually kiss her fluttering slit.

“Ah~!” She gasps, her chest pushing up and her grip tightening on the sheets beneath her.

Her taste is like copper with a nice, sweet aftertaste, your finger stroking and teasing her entrance as your tongue harshly bats against her clit. Her eyes clamp close as her entire body tenses and trembles, the ignition of your act lighting up the kerosene of her yearning for you.

You push your finger inside of her, followed by a second before you curl them and beckon at her g-spot as she melts into the palm of your hand in gasps and moans. You can’t actually believe you finally have Mikasa like this, the most vulnerable a person could be as you massage her insides with the pads of your fingers, building her orgasm from the very foundation, each wiggle, each stroke making her more and more hysteric, your name now leaving her parted lips.

“Do my fingers feel good inside you? Huh?” You breathe onto her slit, her head bobbing in confirmation.

You return to her nub; flicking and licking, your pace quickening as her wetness starts to splash around onto your wrist, her insides beginning to spasm erratically.

“Ah, I'm... going to...” She whines, almost shy and embarrassed you were about to see her come undone.

You slow your pace to a painfully gentle rhythm. “Hold back for me baby... wait for me.”

Her hands run through her hair as you pull out your cock that’s been begging to be freed for some time now. You grab the base of the shaft, prodding your swollen head at her hole.

“You ready for me?” You pant.

“Yes!” She sobs.

With a long push, you groan loudly as her warm insides embrace your entirety. Each bump and ridge rub you in the exact right way as you slide inside, her walls assisting your movement and pulling you in as she sighs deeply, her nails digging into your arms as you hover over her.

“Shi~~t...” You hiss. “God, you feel so good.”

Once you’re at the hilt, you lower yourself to her neck hiding your head into the crook while you begin to slowly dip your hips in and out of her, your moans muffled as you bite and kiss her neck and earlobe whispering all sorts of things. Anything your mind musters up about her.

“You’re so tight...”

“Oh baby... fuck... it’s too good...”

Each slow drag of you, her volume and desperation increase slightly, the wet sounds of her cunt sucking you and pushing you are turning you onto another level while her nails sink into your back, your name leaving her over and over.

“Please, don’t stop...” She begs, her eyes watering from the intensity of pleasure.

You rut a little faster, caressing her hair as your cock begins to throb with more violence, the deep feeling in your stomach telling you that your time is almost there.

“Cum for me...” You whisper. “Let me hear that pretty moan as you cum around me...”

“y/n... oh my god...” Her walls tighten and clamp you in place as you push her over the edge, her silent scream beyond human perception as your rhythm falters, your thick cream spilling out inside of her as you both unravel into the ether.

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rukunas · 4 years ago

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Brat tamer Dabi if you're okay writing him! I like when the reader takes a bit to break/there's some degradation/humiliation! I am fairly consistent in my tastes, apparently!

omg yes!! i love dabi sm, surprised i didn’t write ab him yet

warnings: major asshole!dabi, dubcon, unhealthy relationship, smut, cunnilingus, degradation, toy play

“Dabi, no.”

“No?”

“No.”

You’re too busy keeping your eyes on Shigaraki to see the way Dabi’s eyebrow twitches.

He was bored, justifiably— the League of Villains’ weekly meetings were exhausting and uneventful, Shigaraki yapping about plans and security and budget, making sure to call out Dabi for spending the League’s fund on his smoking addiction. “My bad, Tomura,” Dabi sniggers when Shigaraki points out that the funds go down $200 a month because of him. So, what? Dabi doesn’t give a fuck. He gets what he wants.

Except you, apparently. His pretty girlfriend should certainly see how tired Dabi is right now, how he needs to have a little fun. But when his hand creeps up your thigh and up your skirt, hoping to play with your little pussy, you push it away.

His anger grows and grows the longer the meeting goes on. No one says no to Dabi without consequences— why do you think he’s had to kill so many innocent people? You were getting too comfortable with him, forgetting that he’s a mass murderer and a boyfriend that can do what he wants, when he wants.

The second the meeting is over, he grips your wrist, ignoring your protests— “Dabi! Your staples!”— dragging you back to your shared room before he slams the door.

“You think you can say no to me, huh? Where’d all this confidence come from?” He’s pressing you up against the wall, giving you no space to move.

Dabi forgets now and then why he chose to settle down for you. He used to fuck a different girl every day, running through them as fast as he did a pack of cigarettes. But after you joined the LOV, he couldn’t help becoming infatuated with the way you snapped back at him, rolling your eyes whenever he’d say some flirty line. “I could get lost in your eyes, doll.” You’d tell him he’s a freak, but he can see the way your cheeks flush, and he feels your eyes on him when you think he doesn’t notice.

And when you finally give in—“This is a one time thing, alright?”— he’s addicted, having to relapse the next day, and the next, and the next. He loves breaking in your uptight attitude, your smart mouth unable to form words when he thrusts in hard, the way you blubber and gasp and beg him for more instead of telling him to fuck off. He’s managed to get you wrapped around his finger.

Or so he thought. Even with him cornering you, you aren’t scared of him, and you aren’t about to back down. “What do you think you’re doing, touching me in front of everyone? You’re such a creep, you know that? Have some self control.”

The way he stares down at you with so much intensity makes you falter. Maybe you are a bit afraid of him. You forget now and then that he’s a murderer, he burns people to ashes when they deny him, hell, he burned down that convenience store because they ran out of his favorite brand of cigarettes. It’s not smart to say no to him... but you also like it when he’s mad, when he’s pounding into you so hard you see stars. Pushing his buttons is fun, so you stand your ground.

Poking a finger at his chest, you sneer up at him. “Besides, what are you gonna do about it, anyway?”

He’s got you thrown on the bed in a flash, your skirt being ripped off before you can say another word. He’s flipping you over on your fours, slapping the flesh of your ass hard enough to leave indents of his staples. He pulls your hair with his other fist, forcing you to look at him.

“Hmm, I thought rid of all the brat in you. I think there’s some left in there, huh?” He asks, poking at your forehead.

“Fuck you,” you hiss back.

He smiles at you, making your blood freeze and your nerves tingle in excitement. “If you say so.”

He’s taking your panties off— laughing when he sees how wet you are—pushing it past your lips and in your mouth. He purposely makes sure to place the soaked crotch of the fabric on your tongue.

“You like riling me up, isn’t that right, doll?”

You whimper through your gag when you feel him blowing cool air at your wetness, using his palms to pull your cheeks apart. He’s amused to see how you clench around nothing. Dabi is so captivated, he can’t help but flick his tongue out, pushing it into your hole. You bury your head in the pillows, holding back your moans when he curls his tongue just right, pulsating around him.

He huffs out a laugh seeing you like this, completely submissive for him with just a few strokes of his tongue. All bark and no bite.

Before he can do more, he pulls back. “Dahh-bee!” You wail around the make-shift gag.

You feel something cool—not his tongue— teasing up and down your slit before slowly pushing in. A dildo? What is he doing? After placing it deep inside of you, you feel him get off of the mattress.

Your wrists are being pinned behind your back, silk tying them together. The same fate is placed on your ankles when you feel him tying them too You and Dabi were no strangers to toys and bondage in the bedroom, but he never liked tying you down, said he “likes it better when I hold you down.”

“I’m a bit hurt, doll,” he’s cooing in your ear. “If you don’t want me to touch you, then this is what you’ll get.”

The dildo begins to vibrate, hard.

You’re gasping, squirming but not being able to move the slightest with the way Dabi tied you, your screams muffled. You’re lucky you can’t see Dabi’s sinister smile, but you can feel how hard he is when he presses against your rear, letting his hand clap down just to see the red bloom. He does it again, this time using a bit of his quirk, pleased with the way you sob at the slight burn.

“This’ll teach you a lesson, hm? I’ll be back, see if I can get the brat out of you.”

Tears brim your lashes, making Dabi mockingly pout at you. “Aww, my poor little doll.” He jerks you up by your hair one more time, sneering at how pathetic you look. “This is exactly what you wanted, so take it. Fucking whore. Take it and maybe I’ll forgive you.”

You flop on the bed when he lets go, just barely hearing the door slam shut when he leaves. You whimper and sob, practically humping the bed like a bitch in heat to get even the slightest bit of stimulation on your clit. You’re pathetic, and you know it. But you don’t care, no one will see you like this anyway...

... except maybe Dabi, who hid away a camera on the dresser earlier. And he’s also right outside, ear pressed against the door to just barely make out the moans that aren’t fully muffled by the panties in your mouth. He hopes that he’s more quiet that you are when he puts a hand in his pants, stroking his length until he paints his lower abs white.

lord save me

#dabi #dabi x reader #dabi smut #touya todoroki #touya smut #dabi my hero academia #dabi x y/n #dabi imagine #mha dabi #mha touya #bnha smut #tw unhealthy relationship #tw edging #tw smut #tw dubcon #tw degradation

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darknessisafriend · 4 years ago

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Can you do some Commodus smut, please? I’m missing my kingggg ❤️

And here you go for Commodus smut! I love our Emperor so much, I can’t stop writing him! <3<3 I hope you will enjoy it, it got a bit kinky^^

The One rule:

“Good day ladies and boys! I hope you are all doing well today.” Said Commodus with a charming smile as he entered his harem, his icy eyes scanning the room; three hundred of his men and women who were only there to pleasure him and bring him comfort when he needed; perfect. And it wasn’t so bad, they could basically do anything they wanted in their free time, being educated, relaxing, and as the privileged of the Emperor, they could get anything they wanted, he always made sure to pamper his darlings. They all smiled and bowed to the handsome Emperor, a passionate man who was not to be fooled and who could kill when vexed. But he was a good lover, very good, who knew how to reciprocate the pleasure he received, who was generous, benevolent and even tender with those he appreciated the most. As long as you respected the rules established, whatever they were, everything went well.

“Who would please you today, Caesar?” asked the eunuch who watched after the harem.

“I am looking for my favorite.” he smiled, he was eager to see you and spend time with you. In dark corners some would say he had fallen in love with you, lately you were the only one he asked for. But no one would ever dare to say it aloud, the Emperor was very private about his harem and it was forbidden to anyone to mention it and even less when it came to you, his most precious possession.

“Y/N? Let’s see where she is…” the man bowed to the Emperor and went to look for the woman he desired and Commodus decided to do the same, hoping to surprise you. Perhaps you were having a bath, putting on makeup, reading…he was curious. He kept his impatience inside, it could be fun, search for you, he felt like a predator looking for his prey…you were a rare bird, beautiful, smart, strong-willed; he was addicted to you.

As he silently walked in the corridors of the harem, he heard noises and a man such as himself instantly recognized moans of pleasure. His blood started to boil in his veins, the one rule that was not to break was being broken. Quickly, he found the direction of the noises and came bursting into the room and here you were, his favorite girl, betraying him by breaking the unique rule, receiving pleasure from something else than him, pleasuring yourself.

You jumped when someone burst in your room, and you looked at Commodus in fear as your recognized him, he was furious.

“Commo-…!” you couldn’t say more that he had crossed the distance that separated him from you, he seized your chin, looking at you in the eyes.

“Don’t call me by my name! not when you have broken the only rule you had! Only I can give you the pleasure you seek, have you forgotten?”

“No, Caesar.” You tried to shake your head; you didn’t think he would catch you.

“And you are lying to your Caesar. If you remembered, you wouldn’t have dared to pleasure yourself. I think a good reminder is needed.” His eyes were burning, and a sly grin formed on his lips, you didn’t know whatever to be afraid or excited, but you knew you would regret your mistake. The Emperor soon dragged you out of the harem, not caring about how uncovered you were, but after all, people knew that if they laid their eyes on the favorite, they would die in the following minute.

“I don’t want to be disturbed. Under no circumstances!” he said as he crossed the door leading to his quarters. The guards nodded and closed the doors, whatever happened, you would be at the mercy of the Emperor and no one would intervene…

Commodus threw you on the bed “Take off the rest of your clothes.” He ordered you as he angrily paced in the room, why would YOU, of all of them, betray him, the one he lo-…preferred. You didn’t protest and undressed, you had all the liberties and privileges you wanted against one simple rule…and you had failed, succumbed to temptation.

From the corner of his eyes he noticed you were finally naked and he stopped, his eyes detailing your body, damn you were gorgeous, he would even dare to say you were more beautiful than Venus herself. However, you felt almost uneasy, intimidated by his intense look “Lie down, and don’t move.” He ordered you next, his tone dangerously low. You quickly obeyed, not wanting to anger him more, you laid still, waiting for him to do whatever went through his mind. Before you could think further, he sat astride you, his weight on your body preventing you from escaping him, pressing his hardness against your core, made you moan in need but he ignored it. You watched him as he took off his neck scarf and then grabbing your wrist, tying them together above your head with the piece of cloth, tightly enough for you to feel punished. He brought his lips closer to your mouth but never kissing you “I am going to make you regret your insolence.” He said in a dangerously calm tone; you wouldn’t know him, you would fear for your life, but Commodus knew the arts of punishment, in its many forms…

“I’m sorry Caesar, I…” you couldn’t finish your sentence, he put his index on your lips to shush you.

“I am not asking you to apologize Y/N. It’s too late for that. Now, I forbid you to talk unless I ask you to. Clear?”

You nodded vividly “Yes, Caesar.” And he pulled back, his eyes detailing your naked body once again, all the marks of arousal were still present on your body, your nipples hard, your pupils dilated, you were se beautiful when you felt pleasure; a shame this time it wasn’t because of him, he didn’t like it at all and had to change that.

“Only I have the right to arouse you.” With his fingertips, he brushed over your so inviting nipples, watching your breath quicken as his fingers slowly slid down your body, your lower belly and stopping right above your pelvis, your eyes didn’t leave his hand, how bad you wanted him to touch you more, by reflex you lifted up your hips which made him chuckle.

“Tsktsk…so impatient already my dear.” He clicked his tongue in disapproval, a sadistic grin on his face before spreading your legs to have a full view on your womanhood. You couldn’t help but blush, despite being used to be intimate with the Emperor, his intense and hungry look on your private parts was…overwhelming and you found yourself quite ashamed of your state, wet and eagerly waiting for satisfaction.

You watched as Commodus lowered himself on you; you already knew he wouldn’t take off one single piece of clothing, simply because you would like it too much to see him naked. You swallowed down as he started to place slow, languishing kisses on your thighs, moving closer to your womanhood, inch by inch, your inner thighs, then your pelvis, his kisses lingering on your skin for long seconds, he inhaled your scent, the one that made him crazy like an animal.

“Oh Y/N why must you do this to me…” he groaned, he craved to fuck you and yet, because of your disobedience he had to punish you, not able to enjoy you as much as he wanted. “Your pussy is Caesar’s, just mine…not even yours. Mine.” He tilted his head and kissed it full mouth, making you gasp in surprise, oh by the gods, that mouth! You clenched your fists, pulling on your binds as if to free yourself, you wanted to bury your fingers in his dark locks. You whimpered as he slowly licked from down to up, the tip of his tongue teasing your hole, how bad you wanted him inside you but he would not even finger you, especially in that mood.

“None of them taste like you do…you are intoxicating….addictive…” he murmured between laps, his hands maintaining your legs wide open, amused by how you kept moving your hips in need. You closed your eyes, starting to moan as he lightly sucked your clitoris.

“Oh C-…!” his name died in your throat, remembering his order, you much preferred his torture rather than having him not touching you at all. And as a warning, his tongue stopped its work for long seconds, you let out little cries, desperate for more. Commodus watched you from between your thighs, pleased by the despair he generated in you.

“Feel it Y/N this pleasure, this craving for satisfaction…only I can give it to you.” He murmured against you core before continuing again, skillfully licking and sucking the sensitive skin, making you moan again and more and more, louder each time, you wanted to scream his name, your Emperor to whom you were so devoted to. You squinted your eyes shut, your mouth agape as you felt him moan while pleasuring you, it was known, Commodus loved pleasuring with his mouth, to taste those he desired and it excited him beyond reason.

And how much he loved your taste, he could do this all day along and forever, you made him lose his mind. And how unfortunate it was that he had to punish you and just as he felt you were about to climax, he stopped, moving his mouth away from your soft spot.

“Com- Caesar please!” you cried out in frustration, tears prickling in your eyes, you heart was racing and you rocked your hips in hope for satisfaction but nothing, he didn’t touch you and instead watched you with some satisfaction. You were so sorry, you just wanted him!

“Oh I will please my little dove but before that…tell me who were you thinking about as you disobeyed me. And then I will decide the end of this…” His hand went to your womanhood, the tip of his fingers teasingly brushing over your clit, he knew how to make you talk and he could keep it going for hours. You whimpered, a tear running along your cheek, you just wanted to beg him to grant you orgasm.

“I-I….was thinking about you Caesar…always…only you.” You answered honestly, your voice trembling. He briefly froze, surprised by your words. He was flattered and almost felt dumb, actually you had never betrayed him, he occupied your thoughts constantly, you only had desire for him and even in pleasuring yourself, you only allowed the thought of him to grant you this pleasure. “I-I’m so sorry Caesar…I wanted you so much and I didn’t want to disturb you in your work..I-” he didn’t let you finish you apology that his mouth was between your thighs again, he was eagerly continuing his divine work on you but this time he won’t deny you what you sought. What a fool he had been!

“You have been such a good girl, my dear…so good!” he said as he pleasured you, getting lost in his actions, his arousal was at its peak, terribly excited by your confession and how much you craved him. And soon you came, in a relieving scream of liberation, finally free from all this desire you had trapped inside you and Commodus followed you, your only pleasure made him come. You panted, recovering your breath for long seconds and starring into each other’s eyes.

Before he pulled on the knot of your bindings and freed you, happily letting you wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers burying in his locks “Thank you, Commodus.” You breathed with a pleased smiled and he grinned in return, you had the most beautiful expression on your face each time he made love to you.

“Next time you desire me so much Y/N. Have a eunuch call for me.” He leant closer to you, capturing your lips for one of his very tender kisses “It will be a pleasure for me to fill in all your desires.” He promised you softly, and here’s why you loved him so much, a man of extremes, capable of violence and sadism and yet would be the most possessive and tender lover.

Commodus harem: @lyoongx @weirdflecksbutok @skaravile @niniitah-ah @stardancerluv @sgtsavoytruffle @charlie-sisters @ohcarlesmycarles @rajacero @hopelessdisasterr @stellargirlie @rosebloodstuffandthangss @clowndaddyfleck @jaylovesbats @dreamingmaria @sagyunaro @just-a-fucking-comedy @spaceinvader @radio-hoo-ha @lady-carnivals-stuff @sierraclegane @legojorny @lemondedeniname @hvproductions @syvellsworld @papercut-paranoia @jokerflecker @beautifulyoungprospect @bring-your-holy-water @five-miles-over @yukis-writing @fawnsing @morrisonmercuryphoenix @fly-like-a-phoenix @the-joaq-is-extra

#Joaquin Phoenix #commodus #emperor commodus #commodus imagine #commodus x reader #commodus/reader #gladiator 2000

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undermattsun-archive · 4 years ago

Text

mouth

(skate rat) kunimi x reader | word count: 1.8k

a/n: i said i was writing a drabble, a simple short slice,, wtf happened?? anyway ty @bakatenshii for putting up w my spam about this <3

18+ university age | pls read all warnings

warnings: drug use (weed), bad words, bad (slightly toxic) behavior, toxic relationships, a bit of blood

now with its sequels taste + savor

Oikawa’s parties were never really your scene, considering the amount of greasy touch-starved skaters that were crawling around and all the bad decisions you’ve made with them in the past, you really should’ve tried your best to avoid any function thrown by him. But the promise of some mindless fun after a grueling week of finals made it worth swinging by, even for an hour or so.

You’re seated on the arm of the beat-up old couch near the front door, giving you the perfect seat to watch various people of differing sobriety fall in and out of the party.

Just as the desperate scene of Matsukawa coming on to the fourth girl of the night unfolds before you, there’s the familiar burn of eyes boring into you, acutely aware of who it might be.

For a moment you wonder if standing your ground would be better, thwarted by your own body moving without a second thought and making a desperate attempt to avoid simple eye contact, you sacrifice your perch, hoping to find someone that you didn’t have a complicated history with.

“Trying to run?” Cool fingers wrap around your wrist, forcing a groan to escape your lips. It was a mystery how someone who was high most of the time and never wanted to expend any energy could move that quickly across a room.

“Running implies I’m scared, avoiding would be the better term,” you try to pull away from his grip, only to have him tighten his hold forcing you to turn and glare into his hooded eyes, “what do you want?”

“A hello maybe, not nice to ignore me.” He relents his hold and you roll your eyes, he looks deceptively good tonight. You can’t help but take in his appearance, grimacing when you notice he’s wearing the oversized black Champion hoodie you’d given him for his birthday, when you were still on semi-decent terms.

“Yeah about that, I only say hi to people who don’t fuck me over.” You try to move away from him but he quickly crowds into your space, focusing a calculating look on you.

“Fuck you over how?” His expression shifts, he’s giving you that look, the one he gives whenever he has you pinned against a surface and taking everything he wants from you.

The look he gives before you can’t help but surrender completely to him.

“Forget it, just leave me alone.” You try to look around him, trying to find a familiar face, someone you could cling onto to avoid this uncomfortable confrontation and your inevitable downfall right into his hands.

You shove at his chest and slip by him, deciding that leaving completely would be the best option, only to have hands grip at your waist and pull you back harshly. You land on the couch with a soft thump about to send another scathing comment his way when you notice him reaching behind the couch, pulling out a clear glass bong with a skull engraved on it.

The sight of it fills you with another wave of irritation and nostalgia, another present from you to him, another instance of you practically on your knees begging for his attention. You know this is your real cue to leave, that the second you start smoking with him you’ll truly be putty in his hands.

“Just one or two hits,” he hums, already sensing your hesitation, he pulls out a half empty plastic water bottle and a dime bag, “I'm sure you stressed yourself out this week.”

“Mm how considerate of you.” You shift slightly in your seat, positioning yourself better in case you decide to really escape this time.

“You look good.” It’s nonchalant and almost half-hearted but it still causes a slight tingle to run down your spine. You hate the way his feigned disinterest always has you wanting more, all the times he’s looked at you with rapt attention only to coat it with impassivity a moment later making you crave more and more of him. The imagery fills your head and makes your mouth dry. You push the thoughts away, you’re here to smoke some of his weed, and then leave nothing more.

“Don’t,” he looks up from his ministrations to raise a brow at you, “‘m not playing your games tonight.”

“Fine, you look like shit.'' He hands you the bong and you consider smashing it, but it’d only be a waste of your money and good weed.

“Lighter.” You touch the mouthpiece to your bottom lip and stare at him expectantly. He shakes his head and twirls the lighter in his fingers.

“Payment.” A smug look crosses his features and the temptation to throw the bong itches at your hands again.

“I hate you.” It’s under your breath and both of you know that despite how irritated you are with him, you don’t mean it in the slightest, you never do. You hook your finger onto the collar of his hoodie and tug him forward, slamming your lips together in a chaste kiss, the moment his lips part against yours has you pulling away.

“Hm? That was too short and sweet for you,” you snort at the comment and try to take the lighter from him, he shakes his head and turns the bong so the bowl is facing him, “you’re just gonna fuck it up and hurt yourself let me.”

“Whatever.” You fix your lips properly, holding eye contact with him as he lights the bowl, inhaling deeply, letting the smoke crawl down your throat and invade your lungs. He grins at you as he pulls the bowl from it, letting you clear it out.

You hold the smoke for a moment, and just as you’re about to blow it out, Kunimi snatches the bong from you and sets it down by the couch, surging forward and capturing your lips. His hand flies up and squeezes at your cheeks as he licks into your mouth, forcing your jaw to drop. His other arm curls around your waist, not bothering to put up a fight as he maneuvers you onto his lap.

Your hands press against him and you finally exhale slowly into his mouth, feeling his chest swell slowly beneath your palms. There’s a pause in his movements, leaving you to think he’ll pull away, only for him to continue his greedy exploration with his villainous tongue.

Though you’d never say it out loud, you’ve always been impressed by his lungs but the lack of oxygen begins to make your chest tighten and your head feel a little too light.

“Fuck wait.” You gasp, pulling away and resting your forehead against his. His hand drops from your face and slips under the hem of your shirt letting his fingers dance across the small of your back.

“For what?” He nips at your bottom lip, trying to get you to retaliate but you narrow your eyes at him.

“Apologize first.” You drive your index finger into his chest and he scoffs.

“I don't do that,” he leans forward and sinks his teeth into your neck, making you yelp out, you hiss as he pulls off and licks at the raw skin, “take me or leave me.”

“Fuckin’ asshole.” You tangle your fingers in his hair and yank harshly, pulling him into a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue than anything. You feel his fingers continue to massage your back while his other hand runs up and down your thigh.

If you aren’t going to get an apology, you figure there’s other ways to get a bit of retribution. You dig your teeth into his bottom lip, grinning against him when you feel the taste of iron spread across your tongue. his hand on your thigh squeezes tightly making you gasp, only allowing him to delve his tongue further into your mouth, acting as though he has a right to it.

“Bong.” He rasps as he pulls away from you, you take a moment to admire the crimson staining his lips. Reaching down you swipe up the bong, handing it to him and scooting back to avoid being burnt. Watching quietly as he fixes it against his mouth, lighting it and taking a long drag.

It was disgusting really, he always looked good like this, the only thing rivaling this expression was that faintly proud look he got in his eyes whenever he landed a trick. He pulls the bong away and holds it to the side, looking up at you and tilting his head.

“What?” You frown as you watch his eyes flicker to your mouth, his message loud and clear. with a sigh you inch forward, letting your lips part, you jump slightly when he surges forward to slot his mouth against yours. You inhale slowly as he exhales, reveling in the taste of the weed and his tongue moving across yours.

“You two sure know how to make it seem like you’re the only ones in the room,” you pull away once more, the two of you turning to look at Iwaizumi settling on the couch beside you, “just wanted to warn you that Mattsun is threatening to come join you two.”

“Tch like hell he is.” Kunimi pulls you closer against his body, only making you groan at the sudden wave of possessiveness.

“You’re not my boyfriend.” You really have no interest in letting Mattsun’s slimy fingers and dirty dick anywhere near you, but skipping out on the opportunity to piss Kunimi off, even just a little, would be a waste. you raise a brow as his head falls back against the couch, reddening eyes observing you lazily.

“You want me to be or something?” You ignore the snicker that falls from Iwaizumi beside you two and narrow your eyes at the man underneath you.

“So you can fuck off and forget i exist for another month again? Yeah right.” The flash of anger fades quickly when you start to feel the headiness that comes with your high swirl through you.

“I'll make it up to you,” the statement punctuated with both of his hands sliding further up your shirt, “mouth.”

“Kunimi.”

“Mouth.” you swipe your tongue over your lips before relenting, letting your jaw drop and your tongue loll out a bit. He swipes his tongue against yours before sucking it into his mouth. He lets out a low groan as you grind down against him and throw your arms around his neck desperately trying to deepen the kiss.

“Don’t fuck down here again, Oikawa’s room should still be open, he keeps striking out anyway.” You kick your leg blindly, satisfied when you feel your foot make contact and hearing Iwaizumi letting out a curse.

“Oikawa’s?” Kunimi mutters against your lip, and you hum in agreement, sliding off his lap and pulling him along with you.

“I better not be able to walk tomorrow or I’m never talking to you again.”

#hshsh fer fucks sake i hate it here #skate rat hq #miki writes #tw drugs #tw toxic behavior #tw blood #under.kunimi

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natasha-romanoff-deserved-better · 3 years ago

Text

The Day The Music Died

Summary:

“This’ll be the day that I die,” Yelena had sung those exact words in the car that day, and no lies were told.

Natasha never wanted to hear that song again.

Word Count: 3437

Also on Ao3 here

~~~

Natasha stares at the bandages wrapped tightly around Clint’s left wrist, eyes locked in on the red spots where extra blood had been soaked up by the gauze. Clint’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, softly drumming along to the song playing from the radio as he maneuvers the car around a bend in the old back road.

“I can feel you staring.” He says, snapping Natasha out of her trance. Clint takes his eyes off the road for a second to catch her gaze. “Nat, I’m fine. I promise.” It’s not going to change what happened, but he still tries. These types of missions were always hard on Natasha, and it’d only been made that much worse when one of the target’s bodyguards had managed to catch Clint’s forearm with a knife, dangerously close to critical veins. There had been a lot of blood and although Nat was easily able to stitch his skin back together, the close call had scared her - even if she refused to admit it out loud.

“I know you’re fine, idiot. It’s impossible to get rid of you.” She snorts and sends him a small smile. The radio cuts into a commercial, advertising their station and morning talk show before launching into another song.

A long, long time ago

I can still remember how that music

Used to make me smile

Natasha frowns at the song as an alarm bell begins to blare in the back of her head at the notes that drift out of the speakers. She furrows her eyebrows at it, a sinking feeling coming over her. Images from another time threaten to overtake her, and she’s too weak to stop them.

And I knew if I had my chance

That I could make those people dance

And maybe they'd be happy for a while

A blonde little girl, only five years old, prances around the front yard. She’s barefoot and wearing her pink sparkly sundress, hair pulled up into pigtails as she tries to catch a ladybug. Natasha watches from her perch among the tree branches. Mom Melina is kneeled on the ground as she works on the garden in front of the house, planting new flowers to replace the dead ones. She’s brought her portable stereo out, sitting it on the porch and playing at full volume. Natasha isn’t even aware of what song is playing until Yelena is running up to the porch, begging her to play it again. Mom Melina does. And then plays it again with an amused smile and quirked eyebrow when Yelena asks for a third time. Yelena cheers with joy as it starts again and rises to her tip toes as she begins to twirl and dance to the music.

Nobody knows what it is about the song that Yelena likes so much, but she loves it. She constantly asks for it, so much so that Melina loads it onto a cassette tape and keeps it in the car just for her. Natasha doesn’t quite understand what most of the lyrics are talking about, but she decides she doesn’t mind the song for Yelena. In a way, it fits- Yelena is the picture perfect little all american girl, apple pie personified.

Natasha’s frozen in her seat. She pleads with herself to move, to turn off the radio. She doesn’t want to hear this. She knows what verses are coming next, and her breathing catches in her throat as they start. These words hold no comfort for her anymore.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

And them good ol boys were drinking whiskey and rye

Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die

This’ll be the day that I die

Her sister’s high-pitched voice singing the words, a beat behind as she moves her hands cheerfully, lost in the rhythm of the song. She’s buzzing with excitement- ready for her promised big adventure, too young and oblivious to notice their parent’s anxiety or her sister’s internal crisis happening in the seat next to her. Natasha can’t look at her sister, she doesn’t want her to see the panic she knows is written over her face. Instead, she keeps her eyes locked out the window, trying desperately to commit everything to memory. The red, white, and blue lights that light up the night, the football game where a band plays and people cheer, the abundance of restaurants where families are sat enjoying dinner. The normalness of it all makes her angry - how can all these people be so casual when her world is falling apart at the seams? Yelena begins to sing the verse about dying, and it takes everything within Natasha to not snap at her. She can’t bear to listen to her little sister singing about dying, so blissfully unaware of the possibility of the verse becoming true at any moment now. Natasha should say something to her, tell her to stop, tell her what was happening. But the lure of pretending one last time is too great for her to give away. She doesn’t say anything.

Did you write the book of love

A photo album, thick with pictures of them all sit on the shelf. It’s Natasha’s favorite thing in the house, and she often sneaks out of bed to stare at the photos. Realistically, she knows they’re all fake. But if she tries hard enough, thinks long enough, she swears she can recall the events. Thanksgiving had been fun; the food had been the best she’d ever tasted. Their summer vacation had been at the beach, and she swears she can feel the sun warming her face and the sand between her toes.

And do you have faith in God above

If the bible tells you so?

She and Clint had gone to a church once, as part of an undercover mission. She’d ended up having to walk out in the middle of the service. It had been too much. She could never believe in it, even if she wanted to. No loving God would ever create the horrors she had seen before her 13th birthday or give her a family purely to steal it all away so violently.

Can music save your mortal soul

And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Natasha’s feet hit the ground, still en pointe, as she lands the perfect Grand Jete. She tosses her arms out in the landing pose and holds it for a second before excited clapping breaks her concentration. Yelena sits there, smiling wide as possible, clad in her own black leotard and pink tights. She’s in the younger classes, not as advanced as Natasha yet, but it doesn’t stop her from trying. Yelena scrambles to her feet, crossing the floor to stand next to her sister.

“Teach me, teach me!”

It’s a complicated step, and Natasha knows she’s not ready for it just yet. She doesn’t want her to get hurt.

“I’ll teach you when you’re older, okay?” Yelena nods, and turns to the mirror, copying Natasha’s arm positions.

Natasha tries to force another breath into her lungs, but it’s harder now, her throat and chest constricted. She squeezes her eyes closed, trying to block out the flashbacks that continue to assault her.

Now for ten years we’ve been on our own

And moss grows fat on a rolling stone

But that’s not how it used to be.

Fifteen years. It had been fifteen goddamn years since Natasha had seen her sister for the last time. She refuses to let herself think of what might have happened to her. It pains her to think of her baby sister, who had once been so full of life, in such a horrid place.

Natasha wraps her arms around herself, arms holding each other tightly. She digs her fingernails into her skin, attempting to give herself something else to focus on and ground her. It doesn’t work.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the Levee but the Levee was dry

Them good ol boys were drinking whiskey and rye

And signing this will be the day that I die

This’ll be the day that I die

Natasha doesn’t know how long they’ve been stuffed into this shipping container, crowded against a hundred other little girls. They’re all dirty, all starving, all terrified. The scent of sweat and urine threatens to suffocate them, the air hot and heavy.

She has tugged Yelena into her lap, arms protectively crossed over her torso to hold her close- hasn’t let go of her since the second they were put into here for fear of losing her amongst the other girls. She’s so tiny, and Natasha doesn’t trust any of the others.

Yelena stirs, a small whimper falling from her lips. Natasha tries to shush her gently, but it doesn’t work, and her sister keeps squirming. Her cries are starting to grow in volume, and one of the girls next to them sends them a dirty look.

“Yelena, Yelena. I’m here. You’re with me.” It’s the only words of comfort Natasha can offer her. She wishes she could tell her they were okay, that she was safe, that they were going to be fine. Instead, all she can do is assure her that her older sister had her. Yelena had stopped calling out for her mom a while ago, after her calls went unanswered and she finally realized no one was coming to rescue them. Natasha shifts them around, turning her back towards the others and away from prying eyes. Natasha turns Yelena on her lap, so that Yelena is facing her. “Yelena, look at me.”

Yelena shakes her head, so Natasha gently cups both sides of her face, titling her face up so that she has no choice. Yelena doesn’t resist, just locks her tear-filled eyes onto Natasha.

“I’m scared,” Yelena sobs through hitching breaths as her body trembles.

Natasha clutches her tighter and brings her closer, so close their noses are almost touching. “Don’t cry, Lena. Just sing with me.” Yelena frowns at her in confusion, and Natasha starts to sing under her breath, quietly, so that Yelena is forced to quite herself down and focus to hear the words.

She starts with the chorus, the part that Yelena knows and likes the best. “Bye, Bye, Miss American pie,” Natasha sings. The corner of Yelena’s lips quirks up in recognition. Nat pauses, prompting Yelena to sing the next line herself.

Her voice quivers, but she sings it anyways. “Drove my chevy to the levee…” Natasha nods in encouragement and joins her for the next verse. “But the levee was dry.” They sing the next few lines together. They near the last two lines of the chorus though, and this time, Natasha can’t allow her to sister to sing the last line. They hurt too much, they’re too real.

So she interrupts Yelena, skipping forward past the “Day that I die” line and jumping right into the next verse. Yelena doesn’t even question it, just follows her sister’s lead and allows herself to be completely absorbed in the whispered song.

Natasha sings almost the entire song to her sister, doing her best to remember as many lyrics as she could, and then starts over. She keeps singing, over and over again, until her voice starts to crack, and Yelena’s eyes are slipping closed in exhaustion.

“Tasha?” Clint calls, picking up the tension in his partner. She doesn’t respond, just stays frozen in her seat, locked in her own little world. “Hey,” He calls, a bit louder this time. He takes one hand off the wheel and places it on her shoulder gently. “Nat. What’s going on?” She’s shaking.

Instead of answering, Natasha claps her hands over her ears and leans forward, bending at the waist so she can rest her head atop her knees. She’s shaking her head, muttering something under her breath.

We all got up to dance

Oh, but we never got the chance

“Teach me, teach me!”

“…When you’re older.”

Natasha never got the chance to teach Yelena that ballet move. She wonders just how many other promises to her baby sister she’s broken.

“I’m going to pull over, Nat, okay?” A male’s voice comes from somewhere close by. His hand moves from her shoulder onto her back, to rub small circles on it.

Do you recall what was revealed

The day the music died?

She had never felt so stupid. Standing on that airway strip, holding a gun out in front of her, blocking Yelena. She had let her fall into the lie, childishly believe that maybe, just maybe Dad Alexei loved them like he said he did. As Alexei kneels before them, showing no sympathy to his daughters tears, she realizes that had never been the case.

The chorus starts again, and she feels bile rise in her stomach. “Bye Bye Miss American Pie” Natasha remembers how she had stolen that gun from a solider, shoved her sister behind her and threatened to kill numerous grown men for touching her. How desperately she had clung to Yelena when they’d been ripped apart. She hadn’t been ready to give up her sister, not ready to say goodbye to the American dream lie they had built side by side. “Drove my Chevy to the Levee but the levee was dry” The memory of Yelena’s face during those few days had haunted Natasha’s dreams for years. It had frightened her- even more so than the men with oversized guns. She had never seen her sister, who laughed at everything and loved the world with everything in her, look so despondent. She had tried telling her jokes to pry some kind of smile out of her. It didn't work. “This’ll be the day that I die” Yelena had sung those exact words in the car that day, and no lies were told. That day, when dad Alexei handed them back to Russians soldiers, they had both died. Died only to be remade and ruthlessly forged into something new, nothing more than weapons of mass destruction and trained killers.

There’s cussing to her left that pulls her back halfway to the present. She’s in a car, and she’s covered in vomit that runs down her front and onto her chest and lap. Clint has a hand on her, and he’s telling her just a second, Nat.

“Clint?” She asks, still slightly confused. She can still feel the weight of a smaller body on top of her, feel the soft blonde curls against her chin.

“I’m here, Tasha. Hold on.”

Oh, and there we were all in one place

A generation lost in space

With no time to start again

Countless little girls standing in a straight line, blank expressions, awaiting their next commands. They’re all mirrors of each other, no identity left for any of them to cling onto. Natasha scans over each girl, searching for the blonde waves she knows so well. She can’t find her.

The song drags on as Clint navigates the car off the road, coming to stop. He jumps out and jogs around, flinging Natasha's door open. She doesn’t move, so he reaches in and unbuckles her before slipping his hands into her armpits and pulling her out of the car. She tumbles to the ground, falling onto her knees.

And as I watched him on the stage

My hands clenched in fists of rage

No angel born in hell

Could break that Satan’s spell

Natasha catches Dreykov’s eyes on them, and she tightens her hold on Yelena’s hand. Her sister makes a small noise - she’s going to have bruises with how tight Nat is holding her- but doesn’t pull her hand away. Natasha curls her free hand into a tight fist, ready to swing if need be.

Dreykov says something to the men with guns next to him and points a finger at them. The soldiers start moving forward, and Natasha backtracks, tries to back up but Yelena stumbles at the sudden change in direction.

I saw Satan laughing with delight

The day the music died

Natasha screams her sister's name, gripping onto her as tightly as she can. Soldiers have hands on them both, ripping them away from each other. Dreykov is standing several feet away, a tiny smile on his face. Yelena is shrieking, hands desperately trying to keep her grasp on Natasha with all the strength in her six-year-old frame.

They lose their grip on each other and are dragged apart. Yelena’s voice dies out as they carry away the only thing Natasha had left.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie -

“Turn it off!” Natasha pleads, before promptly vomiting even more onto the ground. Clint’s hands support her head, keeping her from falling. “Off, please. I can’t. Turn it--” Clint’s hands leave her for a second as he scrambles over her, reaching through the open passenger door and slamming the power button on the radio.

Natasha lets out a breath, thankful for the silence. With the song no longer playing, her head is beginning to clear, the painful images retreating somewhere she could lock them away again.

“All done?” Clint asks her. She spits out one last string of bile and nods her head, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as Clint helps her sit up and lean against his leg. He doesn’t rush her, just allows her to sit and try to regain control of her breathing as he combs his fingers through her hair.

When Natasha can finally think again, she frowns at herself in disgust. “Sorry,” She apologizes.

“You don’t need to apologize to me,” he tells her. Clint reaches over and opens the backdoor, grabbing his go bag and digging around until his fingers find one of his clean T-shirts. He yanks it out, closes the door. “Can I help you change, or do you want to do it yourself?”

He’s honestly not even sure if she could change herself right now, with how much she was still shaking, but he gives her the choice anyways. She shrugs her shoulders, her way of accepting help without actually having to accept. “Okay, arms up.” Natasha raises her arms, and Clint carefully tugs her shift off her by the collar, making sure the filthy outside never touched any of her skin. He crumples up the shirt into a ball and tucks it in a bag. He bunches up his shirt at the neck hole and slides it over her head before gently guiding her arms through. It takes a lot for his partner to get to this state, and his concern grows with every passing second that goes by and Natasha is still out of it. He fixes the shirt over her torso, making sure she’s completely covered and then sinks down to the ground, leaning his back against the wheel of the car. There’s a soft breeze in the air, the slight chill nipping at their skin a welcome distraction. “C’mere,” he says, and guides Natasha into his side. She tenses for a moment, but then lets her head drop onto his shoulder, allowing Clint to take her weight. He wraps an arm around her to hold her close.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha repeats, and this time Clint doesn’t say anything. He knows she’s not apologizing to him, but someone not in their presence. He doesn’t push it. She’ll tell him when she’s ready, on her own time. He has guesses though. Clint had an older brother, and he knows what a protective but burnt-out older sibling looks like. He’s seen the way her eyes linger on certain little girls in public before snapping back, caught the way she had once brushed her fingers over a fabric doll with pink hair on a store shelf, heard the way she is able to understand children’s speech without any effort. She’s never mentioned a younger sibling before, but sometimes in her sleep, she mumbles a girl’s name, her hands clenched in fists as if trying to hold on to her.

He presses a kiss to her temple, a silent promise. He won’t push her- He doesn’t need to know exactly what happened. He knows how to support her and how to take care of her when she needs it and for now, that’s enough.

Years later, Natasha will press her forehead to an adult Yelena’s, both panting from the fight, Yelena upside down and laying in the wreckage of the red room. Dreykov is finally dead, by Yelena’s hand. Yelena cracks a joke, and Natasha smiles. They’ll never again be those little girls they once were, but they’ve finally found each other.

#natasha romanoff #yelena belova #kid natasha romanoff #kid yelena belova #songfic #black widow 2021 #black widow fic #angst #natasha centric #marvel liho #mcu #mcu fanfic #Clint barton #he's here too #look i actually wrote something

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hotpinkhoshi · 4 years ago

Text

devour (m)

pairing: human!baekhyun x vampire!reader (f) genre: smut, paranormal warnings: mentions of blood, pain, monsters etc, explicit sex involving some slight dom/sub themes but not really. a lot of position switching, oral (m receiving), cursing word count: 6.6k summary: you’re thirsty. so damn thirsty. and baekhyun is the only one that can give you what you want. it’s the last time, really the last time, you tell yourself. a/n: hello my lovely amazing readers! thank you so much for being so patient with me these last several months, i know i haven’t been very consistent with my posting BUT i promise i’m trying. i started this piece about 3 weeks ago and my only goal was to finish it by the end of the month. thankfully i just barely finished in time! i hope you enjoy but first, a disclaimer: i haven’t read or watched anything about vampires in many years so i know there may be things that don’t technically make sense. vampire enthusiasts pls do not come for me, i did my best. thanks to: all my followers, @jjinyounf for discussing vampire reproductive systems, & @flowerbeom and @jjpmoans for hyping me up and giving me love and encouragement whenever i need it, which is a lot!

Last time, you told yourself it was the last time.

The last time you let Baekhyun into your apartment at half past three in the morning, so out of your mind starving that you could hardly even see straight. The last time you let him take you, command your body like it was no longer your own.

You should have known you were lying to yourself.

You [3:28am]: are you up?

Baek [3:29am]: yea, why?

You [3:31am]: can you come over?

After your last message, you got no response. Perhaps, you thought, he’d fallen asleep or worse, had no interest in being your blood bag for the night. You would be disappointed, but you wouldn’t blame him.

You rolled over in bed, flopping onto your stomach as you buried your face into your pillow. Maybe you could simply push through and wait until morning, when Kyungsoo would be awake and able to help you.

After you turned a few months ago, totally unexpectedly, it had flipped your world upside down. Kyungsoo found you, shivering and delirious by a dumpster where your fun little one night stand had left you.

Kyungsoo was human, but he was the type of person that people trusted and allowed into their worlds, no matter who they were. As one of the general surgeons of the local hospital, he’d gotten himself into a position of substantial power over both the humans and the vampires of your city. He never used it as a weapon—only as leverage to keep the humans safe.

When he found you, he’d wrapped you in his jacket and carried you to his apartment, but you didn’t remember anything until many days later. Kyungsoo nursed you to health, providing you with a vampire crash course to prepare you for the rest of your life. Of eternity.

Then he’d introduced you to some of his friends at a party after you were more comfortable, although you had yet to feed on a living human. There was a whole community of humans that got off on it, that lived for the pain and pleasure of letting a vampire feed on them.

It was at this party that you met Baekhyun. He had a mischievous glint in his eye when Kyungsoo told him your name and left the two of you alone in the dimly lit, smoky club basement. Something about that look in Baekhyun’s eyes told you he knew you’d be his by the end of the night.

The feeling, the taste, the pure ecstasy of finally consuming fresh blood was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before, even when you were alive. Your senses were heightened as a vampire as it was, but as soon as his blood hit your tongue, it was like your world exploded into a million colors.

But even though you’d been the monster drinking his blood, Baekhyun remained in control. He laid you out on his bed and pinned your wrists to the mattress with one hand, his other wrist pressed into your mouth as he forced you to feed.

You whimpered and cried out when it was too much, when the overstimulation of his blood and the way he was rocking into you at a brutally rhythmic pace had you seeing stars. He never relented; only fucked you harder as you writhed under him.

After that night, you never wanted anyone else. Baekhyun was the only man you wanted to feed from. With him, you didn’t feel like a monster. You didn’t feel like a thing, like a horror story to tell in the dark.

He made you feel human again.

Tonight, the thirst was too much to handle. It was clouding your mind and keeping you awake as you twisted and turned under the covers. You couldn’t tell if you were craving his blood or craving him, but you were too weak to care.

You hated the thirst. It was like dehydration, tenfold. Your head hurt, your lips were dry no matter how many times you wet them, and all you could think about was warm blood sliding down your throat. It was maddening.

The telltale sound of your apartment’s buzzer had you sitting up in bed, so quickly that it made your head spin, the noise signaling that you had a visitor down at the main entrance to your building.

You scurried off the bed and hurried to the door, nearly running into it as you slid on the hardwood in your socks to let him in. You told yourself the eagerness to see him was only because you were thirsty, certainly nothing more.

As soon as you opened the door, you felt embarrassingly underdressed.

Baekhyun had dyed his hair since you’d last seen him. It was now a silver blonde, perfectly messy and framing his stupidly beautiful features. He’d been out tonight, you realized. The glitter on his cheekbones gave it away.

His hands were stuffed comfortably in the pockets of his leather jacket with a faded graphic tee underneath, and expertly tailored black jeans practically painted onto his lower half.

You tugged the hem of your T-shirt down, even though he’d already had you in positions that you hadn’t even thought were physically possible—vampire or not. For some reason, you still felt bare in front of him in your pajama shorts and oversized tee.

“Hmm,” Baekhyun hummed as he stepped inside, letting the heavy door close behind him. He smelled like smoke and rum. “Look at you. Is someone thirsty?”

You blinked, grateful that you were incapable of blushing. As ravenous and desperate for blood as you were, the way he looked you up and down made you feel small and shy.

“Can I?” you asked, reaching for his wrist, half tucked into the pocket of his jacket.

“Uh-uh.” He stepped back just before your fingers brushed his skin. “You know that’s not how it works, baby. You still need to work for it.”

If you wanted to, you could muster your strength and slam him into the door, dive for his neck and bleed him dry before he even realized what was happening. But you didn’t. You wanted this, you wanted to beg and plead until finally, he rewarded you.

“Baekhyun,” you whispered, then dragged your tongue over the dry, cracking skin of your lips. “I’m so thirsty. I’ll do whatever you want.”

He seemed pleased by this, judging by the way his lips turned into a familiar smirk. “I know you will. Come on, let’s go sit down.”

You followed him to the living room obediently, watching as he made himself comfortable on the couch. He shrugged his jacket off, revealing the expanse of his forearms down to his wrists, covered in bite marks in various stages of healing.

All from you.

If he had chosen to get his fix somewhere else, you wouldn’t have any reason to be envious or hurt. But it filled you with a sense of pride that he didn’t, that you were the only one he allowed to taste him.

You moved to sit next to him, but Baekhyun stopped you. He took your hand, leading you to stand in between his parted legs.

“Knees.”

It took one word for you to drop to the carpet, your bare knees pressing into the old scratchy shag rug you’d had for ages. He kept your fingers in his palm, rubbing his thumb idly over the back of your hand.

“Good girl.” With his other hand, he tucked your hair behind your ear, his wrist brushing against your cheek so that you could hear the pulse beneath his skin.

“Baek…” you began, turning slightly until your nose brushed his skin. “Just a taste. Please.”

Baekhyun lifted your chin with his finger and locked eyes with you. You filled with warmth already, just one look enough to send your mind racing with images of everything you wanted from him. His blood was further down the list than you would have thought.

“Just a taste,” he repeated.

With that, he let go of your hand and turned slightly to reach into the pocket of his discarded jacket. When he pulled out the shiny folded metal, you gulped hungrily.

The pocketknife brandished with a metallic click.

It wasn’t uncommon for humans to carry weapons these days. After all, vampires weren’t the only monsters that roamed the streets after dusk, and not all vampires were quite as friendly with humans as you were.

Your eyes followed Baekhyun’s nimble fingers as he brought the very end of his knife to his middle finger, twisting the point into his fingertip until a spot of blood appeared.

It took every bit of self control that you possessed not to reach out in desperation for his hand and bring it to your mouth. But you knew better—you knew if you broke, Baekhyun would stand up and walk out the door like you were less than nothing to him.

He watched you with interest as he held his finger just out of your reach, eyes dancing with that mischievous stare he had when he teased you. You would despise it if you didn’t know that eventually, he always caved.

Finally, when your mouth had gone dry and you could feel the warm tingle that meant your fangs were about to protrude, Baekhyun brought his index and middle fingers to your mouth.

He slipped them past the parched skin of your lips, your entire world blooming as soon as his middle finger touched the center of your tongue. You moaned, eyes falling shut.

“Look how needy you are,” he remarked after a beat. His voice was strained, though, as if watching your display of bliss was causing him physical pain.

He let you go for a while, maybe half a minute, before he was removing his fingers from your mouth. You couldn’t help but whine, resisting every urge not to grab at his wrist to keep him there.

With the small amount of his blood you’d been able to milk from his finger, you already felt renewed. A surge of energy coursed through you like you’d just been injected with adrenaline.

“What do you say?” Baekhyun asked with a cocked brow.

You swallowed, licking any remnants of his blood from your lips. “Thank you.”

Without a second thought, you reached for Baekhyun’s belt, fingers quickly undoing the metal buckle. Your ears picked up the quickening of his heartbeat from the moment you undid the button of his pants.

It was no surprise that most vampire-human relationships, if not ending in death, ended in sex. Feeding, in your experience, was extremely sensual and instantly created feelings of arousal within both parties. It was almost better than sex, and when the two came together? It was euphoric.

You were pleased to find him half-hard already by the time you got his zipper down, your hand wrapping around the length of him under the fabric of his briefs. Baekhyun inhaled sharply, holding his breath until you had pulled his cock from his underwear.

Only a few seconds passed before you leaned forward, parting your lips to run your tongue along the underside of his member. Your eyes remained open, locked on Baekhyun’s face to gauge his reaction.

He loved it, of course.

With a groan, he tipped his head back, exposing his throat and sending a shockwave to your core. You wanted his throat, his neck, all of that fresh, warm blood pumping beneath his skin. But you wanted to taste it while he was inside of you. It would be worth the wait.

Your eyes fell shut as you took his length into your mouth, deeper and deeper with each stroke until he hit the back of your throat. Unlike men you’d been with when you were human, Baekhyun made no effort to remain quiet. He was loud, and you loved it.

If you had your way, all of your days would be filled with Baekhyun’s voice. His moans, his rough whispers in your ear, his laugh, his hums as he completed mundane tasks like wiping down the counters or tying his shoes. Deep down, you wanted it all.

“Good girl, that’s my girl,” he whispered, reaching forward to lace his fingers in your hair. He curled his hand into a tight fist, a deliciously sharp pain spreading across your scalp.

You whimpered, lips wrapped tight and wet around him. He guided you back and forth for a while with his hand in your hair, muttering soft praises all the while. By the way his hips were twitching towards your face, you knew he was getting lost in the ministrations of your mouth.

Baekhyun soon dropped his hand from your hair, signaling you to pull away, just in time for him to stand up and pull you to your feet.

A squeak of surprise fell from your lips as he lifted you, hooking your legs around his waist in a simple, swift movement.

“Bed,” he said simply.

Baekhyun carried you through your apartment as if it was his own, lips kissing and nipping at your neck as he dodged every obstacle between the two of you and the bedroom. He stopped once, in the hallway, to lean you into wall and roll his hips into your center.

His name came out as a sigh.

Then, finally, he dropped you onto the center of your bed. It was messy from your previous tossing around in the sheets from your thirst, but neither of you cared. Baekhyun reached for the comforter, knotted and piled together under your lower back, and easily tossed it off the bed to leave nothing but the sheets under you.

He stood at the foot of the bed, chest heaving up and down, and ran his fingers through his hair. The look in his eyes had you squirming, ready for him to devour you in every way possible.

“Are you still thirsty, baby?”

Your heart clenched at the pet name, even though he always called you that, loving the way it sounded on his lips. You gulped, nodding as you batted your eyelashes.

“Yes,” you admitted.

“Take off your clothes,” he told you, hands reaching for his jeans, still unbuttoned, to push them down his legs.

It took less than a second for you to obey, clutching the waistband of your shorts and shoving them off of you. You knew he liked when you kept your underwear on, just so he could use it to further torture you by keeping a layer between you.

You slipped your thin T-shirt off, throwing it to the side and laying back into the mattress again. Baekhyun had removed his own shirt, leaving just his briefs from letting you see all of him.

You could marvel at his body for hours—he was slender, but solid. He wasn’t much taller than you, but his shoulders were broad enough to make you feel protected in those rare moments when he held you in his arms.

This time, though, you noticed something new. There was a handful of bruises and scratches marring his body, completely different from the puncture marks that your fangs left when you fed on him. Blinking, you furrowed your eyebrows, fingers reaching out.

“What are-”

“No questions,” Baekhyun cut you off, reaching for your hands before they could reach their destination. His face softened, ever so slightly, when you quickly retreated, curling your hands up near your own chest. “We’re not here to talk, are we, baby?”

Just like that, he made you forget the suspicious marks on his chest, even one slash that looked particularly painful. Almost like he’d been cut by a knife.

Watching the way he licked his lips as his eyes traveled down your body, slowly, so slowly, you were easily steered back to the task at hand. You dropped your hands to the sheets, digging your nails into the fabric as he overwhelmed each of your senses.

Even from here, you could smell his blood. From here, you could hear the steady, strong beat of his heart, taste the alcohol and nicotine of his kiss. Your body was calling out to him and you weren’t sure how much longer you could deny what it needed.

“Baekhyun,” you found yourself whining, hips squirming under his hungry gaze.

His eyes snapped up to your face then, so much desire and pure lust in his stare that you felt a brand new surge of heat travel through your limbs.

“Mm, first…” he pressed one knee down into the mattress, then the other, until he was hovering over you. “We have to see if you’re ready for me, don’t we?”

Baekhyun led a painfully light touch down the middle of your chest with his index and middle fingers, between your bare breasts, and down the valley of your stomach at a pace that had you biting your tongue just to keep from begging him for the nth time. It would only further encourage him to play with you, of which you could only tolerate so much.

You knew his moves by now, knew that he would trail those fingers down to your waist, over the elastic of your panties until he found the evidence of your arousal between your legs. You knew his moves, and he still had you whimpering the moment his fingers brushed your clit through your panties.

Your toes curled into the sheets as you tried desperately not to show how crazy he was making you. He knew already, though, the moment he slid his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties and found wetness between your legs.

“Oh,” Baekhyun said with a smirk, tongue running cheekily along his lower lip. “You’re dripping, Y/N. You’re this wet just from sucking me off?”

Again, you were grateful for your inability to blush.

“Answer me,” he demanded suddenly, eyes turning dark just the way you liked them.

“Yes!” you replied, hips canting up towards Baekhyun’s hand. “Yes, I’m this wet just from sucking you off.”

Even after you closed your eyes, you were sure you could see the cocky smirk that was undoubtedly painted upon his lips. He lived for this, the feeling of absolutely owning you. You, an immortal, bloodthirsty, powerful woman despite how weak he made you.

As his fingers delved lower, just until he could dip them into your entrance, you mewled and turned your cheek towards the pillow. “Please,” you breathed.

Baekhyun’s lips brushed your neck. “Please, what?”

“Want you… want-“ you sighed as his fingers pushed deeper, to his second knuckle. “Want you inside.”

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t surprise you when he finally gave in, but you couldn’t complain. Though he didn’t concede without a few deep pumps of his fingers, enough to have you gasping and close to ripping the sheets apart beneath you.

Baekhyun slipped his fingers from you and stood from the bed, his hands pushing down his briefs without hesitation. He nodded at you once, motioning with his chin to the headboard behind you.

“On your knees, and face the headboard.”

Renewed with your need to feel Baekhyun inside of you, you easily flipped over onto all fours, that warm sensation in your gums warning you that your fangs would extend at any moment. You didn’t fight it, hoping that it wouldn’t be much longer until you would need them.

“Fuck,” Baekhyun exhaled, just before you felt the bed shift with his weight as he moved behind you. “You’re beautiful, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love seeing you like this.”

You’re beautiful.

The words echoed in your mind, though you knew they probably shouldn’t. He rarely complimented you so boldly, especially before he was inside of you, overwhelmed with pleasure and pain. Curling your hands into fists, you shoved your feelings down because you needed to. A survival instinct, really.

Because if you fell for him, if you opened your heart, the odds were against you. You weren’t sure why he chose you, why you were the only one he allowed to feed from him, but you couldn’t let yourself see it as any more than a mutual transaction of pleasure.

Baekhyun snapped you out of your thoughts easily the moment he pressed up against you from behind, his hands molding down your sides until he could place them upon your hips.

You hung your head between your shoulders, reaching your hands out to grip the wooden slats of your headboard. The anticipation was always the best, and worst, part of this.

It almost scared you how well Baekhyun knew your body. He knew when he trailed his fingertips down between your shoulder blades that you’d shiver and bite your lip, using every ounce of willpower that you possessed not to beg him. Even though you were pretty sure that’s what he wanted.

He knew when he leaned forward and kissed your shoulder, that you’d ultimately lose the battle with yourself and your dignity. You were hot, sweaty, and desperate. Desperate enough to give in and sob his name, squeezing your headboard so hard that you felt the wood splinter beneath your hands.

Without another word, his lips still pressed to your skin, you finally felt the tip of his cock tease your entrance. You held your breath, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn’t drag it out any longer.

Your wish was granted as he filled you in one long stroke, both of you releasing satisfied moans at the sensation. This... this was bliss.

“How are you-” Baekhyun ground out through his teeth and squeezed your hips hard enough you’d probably bruise, if you could, “-always this tight? God.”

His lips trailed across from one shoulder blade to the other, giving your body a moment to adjust to the girth of him, before he began to move. Just like every other time, he pulled sighs and moans from you that only his ears had ever had the privilege of hearing.

“Oh, my god,” you breathed, your walls clenching around him each time he filled you, his pace making your head spin.

“How’s it feel, baby?” Baekhyun asked, voice low next to your ear.

It took a few more thrusts for you to be able to catch your breath to answer him, your head spinning from the way he was fucking you. It didn’t matter how many times you had him, he always made you like this. Crazy, hungry, and weak.

“Good, so… so good.”

“That’s right,” Baekhyun answered, one hand drifting from your hip down between your legs to find your clit. “You’re taking me so well. Think you might get to feed a little earlier than normal tonight, baby.”

You clenched around him once more at his words. Recently, Baekhyun had started making you wait longer and longer to taste him. The last time, you’d been teetering right on the edge of your second orgasm when he finally bared his neck to you.

It wasn’t the worst thing in the world--no, that moment when his blood hit your tongue had sent you towards the most electric, trembling climax you’d ever had. But you had to admit your mouth was watering already at the thought of sinking your teeth into his skin sooner rather than later.

“Please,” you begged, pushing your ass back towards him. “Please, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun rolled his fingers around your clit in circular motions, grunting as he thrusted hard, jolting you forward. You gasped and moaned, throwing your head back in ecstasy.

“You want that, huh? You want me to fuck you while you drink from me?” He matched each stroke of his cock inside of you with the pace of his fingers, drawing tight circles between your legs.

“Yes,” you answered, voice cracking. You didn’t just want it, you needed it. Your fangs were showing now, and you weren’t even sure at what point they’d finally protruded from your gums, a biological response to the thought that you would be needing them soon.

Your world spun, briefly, as Baekhyun grabbed your hips and flipped you from your knees onto your back. It was quick, a move he’d pulled on you so many times you barely even noticed until he was pushing back inside of you.

“Oh, look at you,” he said from above you.

Now that you could see him, you could appreciate his rosy cheeks, the way his hair stuck to his temples, and the subtle way his shoulder muscles contracted each time he moved inside you. Holding himself up with one arm, he trailed his free hand down the side of your face and brushed his thumb over your lip.

“You’re ready to feed, aren’t you, baby? So fucking needy. You think you deserve it?” The pad of his thumb slipped inside of your mouth, daring to trace over the shape of one of your fangs.

All you could do was nod, the ability to actually speak coherent words completely lost on you at the moment.

You waited, as patiently as you could while he was driving you insane, for Baekhyun to make the first move. You never reached for his arm first, never lunged for his neck or his shoulder, simply because you wanted him to have that control.

Baekhyun leaned down, his lips trailing kisses from your chin up to your jaw, until he nipped at your earlobe. “Go ahead, pretty. Take what you want.”

The next time he filled you completely with his cock, you finally sunk your teeth into Baekhyun’s neck, that same spot that you had claimed as your own already. You whimpered as his blood filled your mouth, sliding down your throat.

You reveled in the way he tasted and the sinful way he inhaled sharply at the initial bite before he let out a long, blissful moan. Your body was on fire now, so consumed in Baekhyun and the way he felt buried this deep inside of your heat. It was like you were invincible.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him into you easily. It was different when you fed from him like this. You had to be careful, control yourself so that you didn’t hurt him too badly, but it tasted so damn good.

Before you could get carried away, you forced yourself to pull back, licking any remnants of his blood from your lips. Even though you were no longer feeding, you felt the effects of his blood rushing through your body already.

It was electric and overwhelming in the best possible way, heightened even more so by the way Baekhyun fit inside of you and stretched you so perfectly. The entire room had brightened around you as if somebody had switched on a light.

When you were finally able to focus on the man above you, you were pleased to find that he looked just as fucked out as you felt. His arms shook, for a moment, maybe from the quick loss of blood or just the sheer pleasure of it all.

Taken by a moment of bravery, you used your legs hooked around his hips to roll your bodies over so that you could settle on top of him and let him rest for a moment. His wound would heal quickly—something to do with the healing properties of your saliva, according to Kyungsoo—but you knew he’d need a beat to regain his strength.

The moment he filled you completely, you took in a shuddering breath and planted your hands on his chest. Baekhyun stared up at you, eyes filled with awe, lips parted as if he wanted to say something but just couldn’t find the words.

“Wanna ride you,” you whispered, licking your lips once again. “I want to make you - make you feel good,” you admitted.

Baekhyun’s hands found your thighs, pale and smooth, and dug his fingertips into your skin. Slowly, those fingertips trailed up to your hips to pull you closer, forcing you into a rocking motion atop of him.

“Go on, then,” he breathed. “Make me feel good.”

It occurred to you then that you’d been in this position with him only once before, and it only lasted a couple of minutes before he flipped you onto your back and took over control. This time, though, you wanted to take it until the end. You wanted him to see just a shred of the power you could have over him.

Maybe you didn’t realize it until now, but you knew Baekhyun’s body just as well as he knew yours.

You knew when you rolled your hips just right, he’d groan and his eyes would flutter closed as he fought not to thrust himself further inside of you. You knew his hands would start to roam, squeezing and groping at the smooth flesh of your hips and stomach.

Not until Baekhyun had you learned to appreciate a man’s hands on you without feeling self conscious or try to cover up. Maybe because Baekhyun owed you nothing, there was no reason for him to lie to you or tell you what you wanted to hear. With his hands and his lips, he painted his honest truth on your body without saying a word.

You started to lose yourself more and more with each roll, each circular grind of your hips on top of him, letting your needy moans fill the room along with his.

“Just like that,” Baekhyun praised, both hands holding firmly onto your waist. “Tell me, who makes you feel this good?”

You pressed your hands more firmly into his stomach and opened your eyes, only a little surprised to find him staring up at you again as if he was trying to drink in every inch of your body.

Just when you were about to answer, Baekhyun bucked his hips up, pushing himself deeper inside of you—deep enough to make you shiver and lose any and all words that could have gone through your mind.

“I-” you started, fighting the urge to close your eyes. With the way he was looking at you, you knew that Baekhyun wanted your eyes on him. “Y-you,” you could only whisper.

“I said,” he said, through his teeth, surprising you as he sat up underneath of you so that your chests were flush together. “Who makes you feel like this?”

“You, you, you,” you cried, feeling the familiar heat building in your belly and spreading down towards your thighs. “Baekhyun, oh, fuck…”

“Mmm,” Baekhyun hummed, pleased, pulling you even closer to him. “Such a good girl. You know exactly who you belong to, don’t you? No one else can ever have you like this.”

Even as far gone as you were, something about his words made you shiver, mind racing with all the ways he could mean those words. You’d accepted that you wanted more from him, more than a late night fuck and feed, but what if he felt the same way?

“No one.”

Baekhyun pressed the words onto your lips. You clawed at his shoulders, not caring if you marked him, if you left scratches to match the mysterious half-healed slashes across his torso. You wanted him to belong to you, too, if only in one way.

The kiss sent you closer to your high as your thoughts got the best of you, imagining what your life might be like if you could belong to each other.

Maybe you could wake up next to him someday, help him with breakfast by frying the bacon while he mixed pancake batter. Or you could fall asleep curled up into his side, hand pressed to his chest, counting his heartbeats.

“Close,” you whispered. “I’m so close.”

“Me too, baby. Me too.” Baekyun pulled back first from the kiss, one hand in your hair and the other helping you keep your pace, gripped possessively around your hip.

When you finally tumbled over the edge, you could only speak incoherent mumbles and whispers of pleasure into the crook of his neck as your body bowed forward into him.

Fireworks exploded behind your vision with your climax, a feeling you should have been used to by now, but you still found yourself practically blacking out every time. It was stronger, more powerful since you became a vampire. Like every cell of your body was exploding and putting itself back together again.

“I got you, pretty, I’m here,” you heard Baekhyun whisper as he thrust into you from below, fucking you through the intense waves of your orgasm.

The feeling returned to your fingertips what felt like an hour later, even though it was probably only a minute or two, and you found yourself able to open your eyes. You blinked a few times to let your eyes refocus, taking in the sight of Baekhyun so close to you, so close to his peak.

“Baekhyun, I can’t-” you gasped, willing your trembling thighs to move so you could resume your movements on top of him. It was no use—you just didn’t have the strength.

Baekhyun moved quickly, easily flipping your positions so that he was above you once more. He remained on his knees, grabbing one of your pillows to shove under your lower back. From this angle, he could wrap your legs around his waist and grind into you at the perfect angle.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, hands scrambling to clutch the sheets underneath of you. All you could do was watch him, devour him with your eyes the same way you had devoured him with your mouth.

From the moment you met him, you’d thought he was beautiful. It always struck you as unfair that he appeared to be without flaws, as if you had dreamed him up. He just simply couldn’t be real. And if he was real, it was a miracle he wanted anything to do with you.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Baekhyun said through gritted teeth. He was losing control, moving closer and closer to the edge with each deep thrust.

Your fingers squeezed and tugged at the sheets beneath your hands, the only thing you had the physical strength left to do. “Please,” you whined. “I wanna feel you come inside me.”

It didn’t take much longer, only a few more perfect rolls of his hips before he came with a loud, shuddering groan. You felt him spill inside of you, liquid heat that felt like it was never ending. This was your favorite part. It was the closest you could ever feel to him, surrounded in every way.

Once he had come down, Baekhyun fell forward on top of you, catching himself on his forearms. He breathed deep and heavy, face buried between your neck and your shoulder. You found yourself stroking his back, tracing words into his skin that you couldn’t say out loud.

When he finally rolled off of you, he didn’t go far, just flopped onto his side next to you. Your breath caught in your throat when he pulled you closer, one arm around your back and the other grazing your shoulder.

Outside the window, you heard the morning birds begin their chirping. It was easier to focus on their melody than just how close Baekhyun was. Close enough to hear his pulse, quick and strong.

“You okay?” he asked, nose nudging your jaw. “You get enough?”

You swallowed, suddenly remembering the whole reason Baekhyun had come over in the first place. Because you both had an itch that needed to be scratched—nothing more.

“Yeah,” you replied weakly. “I got enough.”

But he didn’t move, just let his lips rest softly against your neck. It had never been like this before. Soft, quiet, sweet.

“Why do you only let me feed from you?” you found yourself asking, hand on his chest gently pushing him back. “Why me?”

Baekhyun’s eyebrows pushed together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you sighed, sitting up and pushing your hair out of your face. “All your feeding marks are from me. I’m the only one, right?”

Leaning up onto his elbows, Baekhyun could only shrug as if you’d asked him if he liked sugar in his coffee. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you,” Baekhyun offered. As if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

You blinked. Had you heard him wrong? Did he mean it… like that?

“You like me,” you repeated.

Baekhyun had the nerve to laugh, just a light, airy chuckle. “That’s what I said. Why am I the only one you feed from?”

Gulping, you tore your eyes away from him and shook your head. You wanted to deny it—but you both knew it was true. You’d never told him as much, but you wouldn’t be so desperate for him if you could easily get it somewhere else. Correction: you could have, you just didn’t want to.

“Because I like you.”

When you looked back at Baekhyun, he was grinning, the light catching on the glitter still smeared across his cheeks. He pushed himself to sit up, reaching for your hands. He tugged you closer to him.

“Yeah? You sure you don’t just like my delicious, mouthwatering blood?”

You scoffed and shook your head, feeling a smile tug at your lips. “It’s not that delicious.”

Baekhyun laughed again, and this time you had to join him. It felt like it was too good to be true, him wanting you the way you wanted him. You wanted to pinch yourself, just to make sure you hadn’t blacked out and imagined this whole conversation.

“Since that’s settled,” Baekhyun said, fingers grazing up your arm, your throat, until he was lifting your chin. You saw his affection for you in his eyes, so obvious it made you wonder if you’d been missing it all along.

When his lips touched yours, it was a kiss unlike any other you’d shared with him before. Deep and slow, like you had all the time in the world. You sighed into his mouth, letting his lips quiet every worry you had racing through your brain.

“Stay the night,” you said softly once you parted from him.

Baekhyun smirked, pressing his forehead into yours. “It’s already morning.”

You glanced at the window, noting the soft glow of the sunrise behind your curtains. “Oh. Never-”

“I’m kidding,” he cut you off, stroking his fingertips across your cheek. “Only if you promise to cook breakfast for me when we wake up. You do eat, right?”

“Yes,” you said with a laugh. “I eat. I don’t need to, but I love food too much not to.”

“That’s my girl,” he replied in a low tone, giving you goosebumps.

In order to keep yourself from jumping his bones, you pulled from him and climbed off the bed, searching for the comforter Baekhyun had thrown off the mattress when you’d first laid down. Once you found it, you settled on top of the sheets with him, pulling the blanket over top of your bodies.

Your memories from before you turned were a blur. Some things you could remember, but it was like they’d happened to somebody else. You knew you’d had a series of unsatisfying one night stands, a couple of boyfriends, and a handful of crushes. You remembered the face of the man who turned you, but not his name or how it happened. A blessing, Kyungsoo told you.

And although you couldn’t remember the faces of any of your past lovers, you knew without a doubt in your mind that you would never forget Baekhyun.

You realized as he brought you into his arms that he didn’t just make you feel human, he made you feel like the girl you’d been before.

#byun baekhyun #exo smut #baekhyun smut #exo imagine #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun fic #exo fic #exo fanfic #writing

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