#my posture is sickening
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zubindailyarchive · 4 months ago
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lov-3-rs · 3 months ago
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Let’s be Honest
Simon Riley (Bodyguard) x Reader!!
(mdni 18+)
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Your father is an undercover investigator working a dangerous case on a human trafficking ring. Unfortunately, they somehow discovered his intentions, and now they're out for revenge. So, they’ve put a bounty on your head, claiming you’re worth millions to whoever is able to find you and sell you to the best bidder. Despite the danger, your father can’t abandon his mission as there were other lives on the line. He’s too close to cracking the case, rescuing the victims. To protect you, he hired someone no one would see coming for them and that was going to be protecting you. He hired a Ghost.
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The moment you saw the brute, you couldn’t believe it. This 6��3”, 220lb, constantly masked man was supposed to be by your side for who knows how long. The sheer size of him was intimidating enough, but the mask? It kept you wondering what kind of man was beneath it.
You couldn’t argue with your father, though. He wanted you safe, and you weren’t about to be taken and sold off to some creep. So, you dealt with it. But now it’s been two months too long. Two damn months of constant monitoring, endless rules, and the same warnings: 'You need to listen to me Y/n,' 'Stay by my side,' or ‘It’s not safe.' It was honestly getting sickening at the fact he had complete control over your day to day life now.
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“I was thinking of going shopping today, get some fresh air,” you say, taking a bite of your breakfast. He stands near the window, eyes scanning the street outside like he always does. “Maybe,” he says, his voice low, almost disinterested. You roll your eyes. “Jesus Christ, why not? It’s just us walking down the street, Simon.”
You started using his real name after weeks of pestering him to tell you. It felt weird calling him “Ghost” all the time—like something out of a video game. What good was being around someone this long if you didn’t even know their name?
He glances back at you, his expression unreadable behind the mask—if there’s an expression at all. Then, just as silently, he turns back to the window. “You never know.” You put your fork down and stop eating, “Simon, I can’t keep going days without stepping foot outside, i’m literally going insane”, he steps away from the window and pulls a chair out to sit beside you. “Everything I do and everything I say is to protect you, that is the whole reason I am here”. you looked into his hauntingly dead eyes. “Please you can’t keep me trapped in these walls”. You say with hesitation in your voice wondering if this will be another useless plea to let him agree for you to get out the house. He paused for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. You smile, “oh my gosh really? we can go?!” you say quickly standing from your chair in excitement. “yes. but the moment I feel something is off we leave, immediately” he says sternly. You were already putting your plate away and running to your room to get ready.
You visited a few of your favorite stores near your house, picking up small items here and there. Simon stayed close, as usual, walking silently beside you. As you stepped out of another shop, he leaned in slightly, his voice low. “We’re going to one more store, then we’re heading home. Do you understand?” You shot him a side-eye but nodded, not in the mood for another argument.
The last stop was the lingerie shop—you had been eyeing their new fall line for weeks. You grabbed a few panties and bras before something else caught your eye: the most stunning, sexy set you’d ever seen. You had to try it on. Walking into the dressing room, you slipped out of your clothes and into the delicate lace set. The fabric felt luxurious against your skin. You peeked your head out, only seeing Simon waiting, his posture as stoic as ever. You stepped out to check yourself in the mirror, admiring the way the set hugged your curves. From the corner of his eye, Simon caught sight of you. His jaw clenched almost immediately as he tried to keep his focus elsewhere, but it was impossible. He’d been around you every day for two months, and he had seen plenty—your tight shirts with no bra, shorts that barely covered anything. He’d always kept his cool, reminding himself that you were off-limits, and he took care of himself whenever you were asleep or when he took a shower. But seeing you now, in something so revealing, stirred something deeper in him that made his jeans tighten. He forced himself to remain still, but the tension in his body betrayed his thoughts. Respect for your father, the job—those were the only things keeping him from acting on what he felt. And he had to keep it that way, or at least he was trying to.
You caught Simon’s gaze in the mirror, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to shift. His eyes were unreadable behind the mask, but you could feel something he wasn’t saying. You quickly looked away, clearing your throat. “What do you think?” you asked casually, but your pulse quickened. You didn’t know why you even asked—it wasn’t like you cared what he thought about lingerie. Or did you?
He blinked, caught off guard. “About what?”
“The lingerie,” you teased, crossing your arms. “I thought I’d get a professional opinion.” His jaw tightened more, but you caught the flicker of something in his eyes. “You don’t need my opinion.” You stepped a little closer, testing his boundaries. “Maybe I do.” He stayed still, but you could see the tension in his stance. His voice, when he spoke, was low. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” You laughed lightly. “What? Shopping?” His eyes met yours, and for a second, there was nothing but silence between you. “No,” he said softly, almost reluctantly. “This.” The weight of his words hung in the air. For a moment, neither of you moved. His response was a beat too slow. “You should hurry up,” he muttered, his voice deeper than usual. You rolled your eyes, but his tone made your skin tingle. There was something about the way he held himself that made you wonder—did he see you the way you were starting to see him? You slipped back into the dressing room to change, but the tension lingered, thick in the air. When you came out, dressed again, Simon stood up immediately, his shoulders tense. “Let’s go.” The rest of the walk home was quiet, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted.
You walked into the house, setting your bags down and slipping off your shoes. Simon followed closely behind, immediately locking the door and heading to the windows like he always did, scanning the outside for any sign of danger. But your mind was elsewhere, replaying that one word—this—over and over again.
What did ‘it’ mean? You had to know.
“Simon,” you called out softly, still unable to meet his eyes. “What did you mean earlier?” He stiffened immediately, turning to face you. He knew exactly what you were talking about, but he’d been hoping you would let it go. He didn’t mean to let that word slip out, and now he was trying to think of a way around it. “What do you mean?” His tone was even, but there was a slight edge to it, a hint of tension. You swallowed, gathering your courage. “You said I was making this hard. I’m not sure what that means… I want you to tell me.” Finally, you looked up at him, meeting his gaze. For a moment, Simon just stared at you, his jaw clenching and unclenching like he was fighting with himself. His silence hung in the air, thick and heavy, as though he was weighing whether or not to tell you the truth. He turned back to the window, staring outside as if it would give him the answer he needed. “You’re making my job harder,” he said after a long pause, but there was something in his voice—a hesitation. But you had a smirk on your face knowing exactly what it was, “it was the set wasn’t it?” there was a pause, “you thought I looked good, too good right?” you stepped closer to him testing his limits wanting more reaction out of him. “I think you should keep this fantasy shit to yourself” he said quickly snapping back at you, but you kept pushing, “I don’t blame you Simon, I bet it’s been months since you got laid and I won’t lie it’s been a hot minute for me too with you being around me all the time, having me cooped in this house” you can see his brows furrowing. “you’re crossing the god damn line” that’s what he was saying but the raging boner in his pants said completely different about your attitude.
Before you knew it, he was stepping toward you, his hand gripping your arm firmly. “You’re pushing me too far,” he said, his voice low and rough. You met his gaze, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. “Maybe I need you to push back,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The moment was charged, and without warning, one of his hands let go from your arm to lift up his mask above his nose exposing his lips. your eyes widen never seeing anything but his eyes for the last few months. Before you knew it his lips were on yours, It was intense and consuming, leaving both of you breathless and more entangled than before.
He picked you up and put you on the dining table. the kiss became more passionate with his hands tangled in your hair, you could feel your core throb waiting to be touched. Simon pulled away from you and looked into your eyes, “you don’t understand how long i’ve wanted to touch you” he says breathing heavily. “all those times you walked around with no bra and I could see your fucking nipples through your shirt and the times you walked around with your ass out, god I wanted to bend you over, i’d fuck you right there and don’t even forget about the times I could here you moaning in the shower doing god knows what to that pussy, ya fuckin minx” your cunt was practically dripping at his words, your breathing became more heavier, “Then do it Simon, bend me over and fuck me” before you could say anymore he already was turning you over on the counter and pulling your pants down. “already planning on it love”. Simon pulled your pants down then slowly pulled your panties down revealing your wet pussy. he bent down to get eye level with it bring his fingers up to your folds and playing with your clit. You moaned at his touched, “fuh-fuck”. Simon pulled his fingers away and replaced it with his tongue, licking your throbbing clit and making you squirm.
He ate you out till you came on his mouth, “Si please”. Simon got up and looked at your bent over form while he started unbuckling his pants, “please what love?” he already knew what you wanted and he wanted it just as bad. “fuck me hard” he smiled at your words taking his hard cock in his hand rubbing his pre cum all over the top of his head giving it extra lubricant. He aligned his cocked to your hole and slammed into you making you jump, “Shhhhhhhit” you hiss out the word from the painful pleasure. He started to thrust in and out of you hearing your moans made him want to cum already but he couldn’t, it felt too damn good to stop now. Simon bent down to your ear, “All those fuckin times you were playing with this tight cunt in the shower, who were you thinkin about huh?”. You didn’t want to answer out of embarrassment but you did it anyways, “y-you si, I thought about sucking your cock and you cumming all over my tits” that snapped something in him when you said that, his pace picked up he started fucking you harder, his balls slapping against your clit. “what would ya daddy think of the man he hired to protect you fucking your pussy raw?”. You could feel your self about to cum, “Si I’m gonna cum on your cock” his thrust became sloppier feeling himself about to finish too, “cum baby, cum”. Simon thrusted harder into your cunt making your back arch more and your ass jiggle against his hips the sight was pushing him over the edge, “god damn baby i’m gonna to cum” his hands gripped into your hips harder. “Simon cum inside me god please”. He busted a load in you, pushing his cock feel in you making sure nothing came out, “fuckin hell”.
After the intensity of the moment subsided, Simon and you lay there in the aftermath, the room now quiet except for your shared breathing. He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender. “I didn’t plan for this,” Simon said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of regret and affection. “I never wanted to cross that line.” You turned to face him, your own emotions swirling. “Neither did I, but… it felt right in the moment. I just want to know what this means for us.” Simon looked at you with a conflicted expression. “I don’t have all the answers. This situation is complicated, and I’m still trying to figure out how to balance my feelings with my responsibilities.” he says lowly “I understand,” you replied, taking his hand in yours. “I just need to know where we stand. Do you want to try and make this work, or is this something we need to move past?” There was a pause as Simon considered his words. “I care about you more than I should,” he admitted. “But I also need to focus on keeping you safe. We’ll have to navigate this carefully.” You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty. “We’ll figure it out together,” you said, squeezing his hand.
“As long as we’re honest with each other.”
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just-zy · 4 months ago
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Gone soft
pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader!
summary: You thought getting Wednesday a stuffed bear was cute, but as she is, she doesn't quite like anything that imaged her that she was turning soft.
A/N: hello! it's been awhile, and this is quite awfully written, so I'm sorry ab that but I just got this motivation to writee, at lasttt
Warnings!: angsty..? hshshs it's fluff so u don't have to worry.. kinda
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It wasn't anything big or anything small either, it was perfect. Well, you thought it was.
You knew it wasn't going to be easy having Wednesday accept the gift that you were going to give her, it was only a cute and fluffy bear.
No is the worst thing that she could say, right?
"I thought we weren't getting each other anything. We agreed to–"
"Y- yeah, but I saw this on my walk to Jericho so I thought you'd like it–"
"That looks sickening. It's soft and unwanted, you're keeping that."
I hummed with audible dismay on my posture, I held the bear close to my chest, I didn't know it was gonna be this bad. My heart is hammering inside my ribcage, like it was finding an escape, my hands are shaking, it was obvious I was in distress and was trying not to break.
But Wednesday doesn't know that, after spilling her opinion about the gift, she automatically goes back into writing her novel.
"O– okay. I'll be.. I'm going out."
I wasn't expecting anything from her really, but that hope in me shattered. Am I overreacting? Am I being too much? I mean it is only our first monthsary, so I guess I am.
I waited for a response from her, but all I got was an unbothered hum.
"Wednesday– Hi, Y/N! Happy Monthsary to you both!"
I didn't think it'd be relieving to hear someone else being in the room.
"Thank you, Enid."
I sighed heavily and made my way towards the werewolf, my hands shook as I lightly shoved the bear in her arms. I just know that she can take care of this baby with love.
If Wednesday doesn't want it, then the bear can keep her company from Enid's side of the bed.
"For me?! Awh! Thank you Y/N/N!"
"I'll be heading out now."
...
Enid skips her way to her bed, setting the bear gently aside with the rest of her stuffed toys.
"Hey Wednesday?"
"What."
"Did she get you anything as a present? Or did you get her something?"
Enid stood waiting for Wednesday to face her, she knew the bear was originally for Wednesday, she heard everything before she got in.
"She got me that wretched bear. You all know how I'd rather stain my blood on my hands rather than accept something like that."
Enid knew how harsh Wednesday gets, the way you handed her the bear, the way you walked out, and the sickening atmosphere in the room. She almost gagged.
"Honestly, it's your loss, Wednesday."
Wednesday knew she should've at least accepted your gift with remorse but, you both agreed not to get each other anything anyways, so why are you upset about something you agreed on?
And she doesn't get why her chest was feeling jittery all of a sudden.
She huffed, suddenly feeling tense as her fingers shook with each time she pressed on her typewriters keys.
Oh how fast her emotions work up.
Archery was something, Xavier's yapping kinda helped? It did get your mind off Wednesday. All week you tried going back to the way it was, but Wednesday was making it pretty hard. She was kind of losing contact with you, and you didn't know what to do.
Maybe she grew tired of you about the bear gift thing. She didn't accept it anyways, so why then did she have the energy to start pushing you away?
"What's with your aim today, you seem off."
"Might wanna talk about yours."
I chuckled unashamed, as I took another arrow and adjusted it on my bow.
"Yeah yeah laugh it up- but seriously, what's up?"
"I don't really wanna talk about it, Xavier."
I let go of the bow after making sure I sighted it right, it shoots through the bullseye.
He clears his throat as he took his shot.
"If you say so."
...
The next day was no better, Enid barges right into my room, announcing to literally almost everyone in Nevermore how the bear I gave her was missing.
"What? Are you sure? Maybe it's at the bottom of your bed–"
She fumed as she grabbed my wrist, practically dragging me into her shared room.
"It's not anywhere, it was with me last night! I swear!"
She was absolutely livid.
I reassured her that it was okay, that I could just buy her a new one that suited her better.
She pouts, "But I liked that cute little one.."
I sighed and agreed to find it with her, but if we couldn't then I'm getting her a new one.
We checked her drawer, under her bed, ruffling her closet, inside the bathroom and even on the balcony, still no sign of that bear anywhere.
"Wait! I think– I might have left it with Yoko! She did want to see the bear actually- I'll be right back!"
She hurried off the room, while I sat on the wooden floor.
After a few moments of resting, I took my time glancing around their room. Enid's side of the bed, and then Wednesday's. I stood up and began walking towards Wednesday's side of the room. I've always admired how clean she is.
How her drawers were filled with her collections of her favourite knives.
I sighed tiredly, she wouldn't mind me napping on her bed does she?
Plopping my body with full force on her soft mattress. I can't believe how soft her bed actually is, it was almost flawless, the only thing that wasn't making everything seem comfortable was the thing that was covered on her soft pillow.
I grumbled as I practically grabbed her only cushion, accidentally making the object on the soft cushion fall off her bed.
Shoot, what is that–
My eyebrows knitting together as I tried connecting everything.
Why's the bear hidden on Wednesday's—
Oh.
Oh!
OH.
My heart started rattling like crazy.
Wednesday took the bear.
I grabbed the bear and placed everything back to the way it was. After I finished, I ran to my heart's desire, passing through every corridor, through every room where Wednesday wasn't.
I wanted to see Wednesday.
It was raining like cats and dogs out there, and I knew Wednesday was in that rain. If I don't find my girlfriend now, then I'm going to spiral everywhere. So, I didn't stop running.
My vision, my pulse rate, my stamina, my breathing, it was all going into a frenzy.
"Wednesday!"
I spotted Wednesday just a few steps away, she looks at me like I was crazy, I knew she was going to mother me about being in the rain, but I didn't care. I was practically sprinting towards her.
I don't know what I'm doing, I don't know what I'm feeling, everything felt messy, how my emotions were all over the place, how sticky I felt, how I was heaving right infront of her.
"Y/N, what are you doing out here? How senseless of you to not bring an umbrella with you—"
"I don't care." I shook from the cold, but I truly didn't care, Wednesday was here, and so was I.
Her ghouly ambiance, her dry braids, everything about her is perfect.
Smiling lightheartedly at her while I took a hold of her defined cheek, whilst the other is on her waist.
Suddenly, I felt droplets prickling on me, raindrops falling at every aspect of her being, her now wet hands right on my nape, the umbrella long forgotten, we held eye contact for as long as I can remember, while our kiss felt like a millisecond.
It's perfect.
She's perfect.
______+______
*/you get sick the next day
Y: you're going soft on me, aren't you–
W: speak of it and I'm leaving you here unattended.
A/N: lmao idk wtf happened, i actually hate this 😔
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livelaughlovesubs · 3 months ago
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HI NINIII i know i havent been back in a while but i saw your event post, could i request 'forcing them to beg' and 'mocking them for involuntary reactions' with my beloved poet poe
and if you're feeling extra generous maybe throw in some nice aftercare because im a soft dom deep down 💕
-🫶
Hey heyyyy!! Welcome back 🫶 anon :D glad to see you hehe. One Poe request? Right away~
Dom!reader x sub!poe - reader is gn
Warning: teasing, begging, light degration?
Anniversary event
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What a sly thing you were.
Sneaking up on him while he was brainstorming for new ideas to add to his novel. You couldn’t help it, he was too adorable to resist. Sitting at his desk, head in the clouds while he tightly clenched his fountain pen. When you were close enough, standing right behind him, you glanced over his shoulder to see him doodling down random notes. Despite how close you were, he still hadn’t acknowledged your presence. How concentrated he was~
Which is why you leaned forward, to whisper into his ear, “Poe~”. The boy jumped immediately, shrieking like a kitten as he turned to look at you. His pen made a ‘thud’ sound as it hit the floor, and he rushed to pick it up, “uuahh..! Y-y/n? Ah- w-wait..” He bend over as he reached for it, and since he was presenting you with such an opportunity you just had to strike.
Wrapping your arms around his body, feeling him shudder due to your touch.
“Heh, so sensitive aren’t you?” You teased while he was still bend over, now hesitating to slump back into his seat. “Y/n… t-that’s not…” He began, but stopped midway. “not what?” You heard him gulp loudly before he answered meekly, “not true.”
“Are you sure about that?” A fun idea popped up, and you began massaging his sore shoulders. You pressed down on the cramped muscles, hands skilfully kneading him. His posture is bad, that’s why his neck’s almost always cramped. Once again he yelped, making you chuckle softly. “Because if not, why are you whimpering like a girl?”
You knew he was blushing, even if you couldn’t see his face. The quivering of his body was also a sign of it.
“It’s because you are touching m-me..” Poe managed to squeeze out, but he knew from the beginning he couldn’t win against you. “Oh? So it’s my touch that makes you all sensitive? Not because you’re a lewd boy?” How were you expecting him to not get flustered when you were using that tone, all while tracing one hand down his spine? And using the your other hand to brush your fingertips across his chest?
Seeing him all speechless was cute, but not fun. You wanted to make him cry out and beg, to plead like how you taught him. That’s why you tugged his hair behind his ear and blew hot air against the reddening shell. “Ngh…!” He tried so hard to muffle that moan, knowing you’d mock him for it, but it was all in vain.
“Will you admit how perverted your body is now, Poe?” You rested your chin on his shoulder, both hands now travelling up and down his body in a sickening slow motion. “I-I..” he stuttered, stumbling over his words. “You what?” The feeling of your breath tickling his skin got him squirming around all crudely, it made him want to curl up into a ball and disappear.
While your eyes scanned his body, noticing his crotch, seeing his reacting to your relentless teasing, you smirked again, “Haha~ how perverted indeed. You are a dirty, dirty boy Poe.” He shuddered, shaking all over as he whined, head turning minimal to look at you. “Don’t just stare, use your pretty little mouth.” You demanded, still groping him all over, enjoying the reactions of his body.
“P-please..” He begged, though too embarrassed to continue his request. “Go on, tell me.” You reassured him, playing with the jungle of hair on his head. “T-touch me more.” Poe eventually mumbled, and he instantly regretted it, too ashamed of his own desires. On the other hand, you scoffed at him, “c’mon sweetheart, you can beg better than that.”
Yes, maybe, but no. He has a way with words, only when he writes them down not when voicing them! “Y-y/n..!” He called to your name, too humiliated to obey your orders, even though he wanted to be your good boy so bad. “Acting cute won’t help now.” You reminded him. Defeated, he quickly gazed over his shoulder, tears already forming in his eyes as he whispered a sweet plead, “t-touch me.. a lot, please, I-i beg you..”
What a cute thing he was.
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ju-liczka · 4 months ago
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When it comes to Morgott we all can agree he is just build... different✨ (that shoulders five times his head *shivers*) So there are some of my thoughts if u wanna read them because they kinda explain my take on him in this drawing lol
I was thinking recently more about his fur and how it looks on his body. It's patchy, It looks rough and uneven... Even his tail when you look closer, It's shape is more defined by the muscles rather than the hair on it. Every artist drawing him gives him much more fluff and I truly think it's well deserved. And from the game design/lore perspective it's completely understandable. He is made to look grotesque, deformed, aged and ugly even... That's all intended... BUT!
I was thinking... What if it's mostly just lack of... maintenance? Lack of care. Malnourishment and neglect of a kind? We know that the Erdtree has a kind of sickening effects on Omens as well. Mohg is for sure holding up much better and I kind of don't believe they would be so much different from eachother (the influence of Formless Mother on Mohgs looks is after all not entirely known). He has more pride in himself and so he carries himself better than his brother that is still loyal and so close to the Golden Order. Mohg took his chance at getting away from the Erdtree and I think it is obvious that this freedom did him some good. I personally belive that Morgott could also achive such change if it wasn't for his deep rooted loyality to the Order and crippling self-resentment.
So to sum my thoughts up... What if he's just not thriving?
Just imagine this kind of idealistic scenario when he can finally put his needs first. When he can take care of himself or let others care for him. He puts on some more weight, rounding up his already muscular body giving it softer, healthier look. His furr thickens and follows up to the rest of his body not just limbs (could be just as thick as the rest or more like a soft fuzz maybe idk). His posture straightens, as with healthy body comes healthy mind. Of course, he is still an old man at the end of it. The years made their mark on his features and some of them are irreversable. But he is healing~
And I personaly love imaginging him in this healing state that unfortuntly is impossible to get in game. But game is game and fan work is fan work. And in my tiny rotten brain I give him little forehead kisses and tell him how precious he is uwu
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pdriesta · 2 months ago
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CHAPTER SEVEN
“i want something that i know is real”
pairings — judexblack!girl
genres — fluff, slow burn, workplace romance (she’s a pt)
warnings — sexual themes (minors dni)
word count — 6.3k
summary — y/n, a rising physiotherapist, has just been promoted to work with real madrid's men's team. after a difficult breakup, she's determined to keep things professional. but when jude bellingham, the club's charming new star, sets his sights on her, maintaining boundaries becomes harder than ever. can she resist the pull, or will she risk everything for a love she swore she’d never fall for again?
an — the last chapter 🥲 i can’t even put into words how much i appreciate the love and support even after deleting my blog seeing the same accounts comment and like these chapters has never failed to make me happy! i am beyond grateful. if you’re still interested this couple, i’ll be releasing blurb series. the first one is posted and requests are open <3
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the room was a blur of activity, voices overlapping as the medical team worked efficiently around jude. he sat there, trying to focus on the steady stream of questions and instructions being thrown his way, but his mind kept drifting back to the moment it all went wrong.
the match had been intense, emotions running high, and jude had let his temper get the best of him. he remembered the argument with the opposing player, the heated words exchanged, the rush of adrenaline that followed. it was all so vivid in his mind—how he’d felt the anger simmering beneath his skin, how he’d wanted to prove himself in that split second, to win the ball, to show he wasn’t one to back down.
but then it happened. they both went up for the header, and time seemed to stretch out in front of him. the roar of the crowd faded into the background as he focused on the ball, his body moving instinctively. he remembered the sensation of losing his balance, the way the ground seemed to rise up to meet him, the sickening thud as his head hit the turf. the world tilted, the lights above blurring into a dizzying swirl, and for a moment, everything went black.
now, back in the medical room, jude felt the residual throbbing in his head, a dull ache that pulsed with every beat of his heart. his family was there—his mom, denise, hovering close by with worry etched into her features; his dad, mark, standing stoically but with an unmistakable tension in his posture; and his younger brother, jobe, sitting quietly in the corner, his wide eyes filled with concern.
y/n was there too, but she kept her distance, her eyes avoiding his. jude could tell she was upset—really upset—by the way she kept herself apart from the others, by the tightness in her expression that she couldn’t quite hide. she only stepped forward when one of the other medics called for her, her movements precise and professional, but there was an underlying tension in everything she did.
jude couldn’t shake the feeling that she was mad at him, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. maybe it was because he’d been reckless, because he’d let his emotions get the better of him on the pitch. maybe it was because she’d seen the whole thing happen, the way he went down, the way he didn’t get back up right away. the thought of her worrying, of her being scared for him, gnawed at him.
they ran through the tests—checking his reflexes, his coordination, asking him questions to assess his memory and cognition. jude answered as best he could, but his focus kept drifting back to y/n. he hated that she was so distant, that she wouldn’t even look at him. it hurt more than the injury itself.
“he’s going to be okay, right?” denise asked one of the medics, her voice trembling slightly.
“we’re running all the necessary tests, mrs. bellingham,” the medic replied calmly, “but so far, everything looks stable. we’ll have a better idea once we review the scans.”
jude’s parents exchanged a worried glance, but denise nodded, trying to stay strong. jobe looked over at jude, his young face pale with concern.
“you’ll be fine, jude,” jobe said softly, trying to sound confident, though his voice wavered just a bit.
jude managed a small smile, wanting to reassure his brother, but the heaviness in his chest remained. when the tests were finally over, his mom asked if he needed help getting home, and mark added, “we can get you settled in, jude. don’t worry about anything.”
“actually,” denise said, glancing over at y/n, “maybe y/n could take you home? you two spend a lot of time together, and she knows how to take care of you.”
the room seemed to freeze at that suggestion, the tension thickening. jude saw the way y/n stiffened at his mom’s words, how she hesitated before nodding, still refusing to meet his eyes.
“yeah… sure. i’ll take him home,” y/n said quietly, her voice tinged with something jude couldn’t quite place.
jude watched as y/n carefully checked his vitals, her fingers deftly adjusting the blood pressure cuff around his arm. even in her quiet, focused state, she was breathtaking. he couldn’t help but study her—how the light caught in her braids, the way her brows furrowed in concentration, and how every now and then, her lips would press into a thin line, as if she was holding something back. he knew she was upset with him, and it pained him more than the throbbing in his head.
he thought back to earlier, to how her distance had been like a wall between them, and how badly he wanted to break through it. it wasn’t just that she was pulling back; it was the way she did it, so carefully and deliberately, as if she was trying to protect herself from him. it killed him to think that his actions had made her feel this way, that he’d been the cause of her worry, of her pain. he’d been reckless, and now she was paying the price for it.
“baby,” he whispered, the word slipping out before he could stop it.
y/n froze at the sound of his voice, her hand stilling on his arm. for a moment, she didn’t move, and jude’s heart sank, fearing that he’d overstepped, that he’d made things worse. but then she looked up at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears, and jude felt his heart crack open.
“why are you crying?” he asked gently, reaching out to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped.
y/n shook her head, her breath hitching as she tried to find the right words. “i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “i’m sorry for being so distant… it’s just—” she paused, taking a shaky breath, her eyes glistening as she continued, “the replay looked so bad, jude. i thought you had a brain injury, or worse… and i couldn’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened to you.”
jude’s heart ached at her words, at the raw emotion in her voice. he could see how much she was struggling, how much this had affected her, and it made him feel even worse for having been the cause of it. he shushed her gently, his hand moving to cradle her face, trying to offer her some comfort.
“hey, i’m okay,” he murmured, guiding her hand to his cheek so she could feel the warmth of him, the steady beat of his pulse beneath her fingers. “i’m right here, love. i’m okay.”
y/n let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch as she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just… i feel it every time you go out there, every time you risk your body like that. and today, seeing you go down like that… it scared me so much. i couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”
her voice cracked, and jude could see how much she was holding back, how hard she was trying to keep it together. he wanted to pull her into his arms, to tell her everything was going to be okay, but he knew she needed to get this out, to say what was on her heart.
“it’s not just today, jude,” she went on, her voice trembling with emotion. “i think… i think i’ve always felt this way, even before i realized it. it’s like, every time i see you, my heart just… it does this thing where it skips a beat, and i can hardly breath. i try to ignore it, but i can’t.”
she paused, her breath hitching as she tried to gather her courage. jude held his breath, sensing that she was about to say something that would change everything between them.
“i love you,” she finally confessed, the words spilling out in a rush of emotion. “i’m in love with you, jude. i’ve probably always loved you… from the moment i laid eyes on you, you just… you never left me alone. no matter how much i tried to keep things professional, to keep my distance, you kept finding ways to break through. and i’m scared, jude. i’m so scared of what this means, of what could happen… but i can’t ignore it anymore. i love you, jude.”
the weight of her words hung in the air between them, heavy and full of meaning. jude felt his heart swell with emotion, a rush of warmth flooding through him at her confession. she loved him. she loved him. it was everything he’d ever wanted to hear, everything he’d been hoping for since the moment he first saw her.
he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight, as if he could protect her from all the fears and uncertainties that were swirling around them. “i love you too,” he whispered into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. “i’ve loved you since that day you took care of me when i was sick… maybe even before that. you’re everything to me, y/n. everything.”
she clung to him, her breath hitching as she tried to process the magnitude of what they’d just shared. jude pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes closing as he breathed her in, the scent of her hair, the warmth of her skin. he’d been so scared of losing her, so afraid that he’d pushed her too far, but now… now everything felt right.
“i’m sorry i scared you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere. “i never want to make you worry like that again. but i promise you, y/n, i’ll always do my best to come back to you. always.”
y/n nodded, her tears slipping down her cheeks as she held onto him, her heart finally at peace. “i know,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “i know, jude. and i’ll always be here for you. no matter what.”
they stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away until it was just the two of them in that room, together. for the first time in what felt like forever, everything was exactly as it should be. they had each other, and that was all that mattered.
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the morning light streamed through the curtains of y/n’s bedroom, casting a warm glow on the space as jude slowly blinked awake. the memories of last night still lingered in the air between them—soft confessions of love that had left them both feeling light and warm, a tenderness that neither of them could shake off.
jude turned his head, eyes landing on y/n, who was already up and dressed, fussing with something at her bedside table. he couldn’t help but smile as he watched her, still wrapped up in her oversized t-shirt that he had insisted she wear—one of his favorites that practically swallowed her whole, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs. she was gorgeous, and he felt a twinge of guilt for making her worry so much yesterday, the fear in her eyes when he’d gotten hurt replaying in his mind.
“good morning, mi amor,” she said softly, noticing he was awake. the endearment slipped easily from her lips, a habit she hadn’t quite realized she’d picked up. she leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, mindful of his injury. “how are you feeling?”
“better,” jude replied, his voice still thick with sleep. “could get used to waking up like this.”
y/n smiled, brushing a hand through his curls, and for a moment, they both just enjoyed the quiet intimacy of the morning.
but jude, ever the tease, wasn’t content with just that. he slid his hand to the back of her knee, tugging her gently closer. “you know, you could make me feel even better if you come back to bed…”
she rolled her eyes playfully, swatting his hand away. “nice try, bellingham. doctor’s orders—no physical activity that could aggravate your head, and that includes whatever you’re trying to start.”
jude groaned dramatically, flopping back against the pillows. “stop teasing me, baby. you can’t just look all sexy in my shirt and then not let me touch you.”
“i’m not teasing you,” y/n shot back, trying to hide her smile. “i’m just trying to keep you safe, you big baby. besides, i’m not the one who decided to start a fight on the pitch.”
“i wasn’t fighting,” jude mumbled, though he knew it was a weak defense. “just... heated discussions.”
“uh-huh,” she said, not buying it for a second. “well, heated discussions or not, you’re under my care now, so no funny business. doctor’s orders.”
jude pouted, but he knew she was right. still, it didn’t stop him from reaching out to grab her wrist, pulling her down onto the bed beside him. “just five more minutes, please?” he pleaded, his voice low and sweet, the kind of tone that made it hard for her to resist.
“five minutes,” y/n relented, settling beside him and letting him pull her close. she felt his warmth seep into her, and despite her better judgment, she let herself relax into him, her head resting on his chest. “but no funny business.”
“promise,” jude murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. he felt her sigh against him, her breath warm against his skin, and for a moment, everything felt right in the world.
as they lay there, the lightness of their confession still hanging between them, jude couldn’t help but think about how much he adored her, how every little thing she did seemed to make him fall even harder. the way she fussed over him, how she was constantly updating his family on his condition, how she’d made sure he was as comfortable as possible—he loved every bit of it.
he especially loved how close she was with his mum. every time y/n picked up her phone to send another update, jude couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. knowing that his family trusted her, that his mum was reassured by her care, made his heart swell.
“i like that you and my mum are close,” jude admitted quietly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on her arm. “makes me so happy.”
“she’s wonderful,” y/n said, tilting her head to look up at him. “and she cares about you so much. i’m just glad i can help ease her worries a bit.”
“she likes you, you know,” jude said, his voice teasing. “she keeps asking me when i’m gonna make an honest woman out of you.”
y/n laughed softly, but she couldn’t help the flutter in her chest at his words. “oh, is that so? and what did you tell her?”
“told her that you’re mine, and that’s all that matters,” he replied with a grin, pulling her closer. “but don’t worry, baby. i’ll work on the ‘honest woman’ part.”
she blushed, the implications of his words making her heart race. “you better, my mom and aunties have the wedding already planned. you can’t put a price on me, mr. bellingham. do you think you deserve me?”
“i know i do because you love me. no other man could take care of you like i can,” jude shot back, a playful glint in his eyes.
y/n rolled her eyes again, but she couldn’t hide her smile. “yeah, yeah. now, let me check your head before you get any more ideas.”
“always so bossy,” jude teased, though there was no bite to his words. “turns me on.”
y/n huffed a laugh, gently moving his face away with a light shove. “don’t even start,” she said, though she couldn’t help the fondness in her voice. “you’re supposed to be resting.”
“i am resting,” he protested, catching her hand in his. “just resting better now that you’re here.”
y/n shook her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” she muttered, leaning down to brush her lips against his once more. “now behave, or i’ll have to call your mum and tell her you’re being difficult.”
“you wouldn’t dare,” jude gasped, feigning shock.
“try me,” she shot back, smirking as she sat up to check his bandage. “now, sit still, or i’ll add ‘uncooperative patient’ to my report.”
jude couldn’t help but laugh, loving how easily they fell into this playful banter. the way she cared for him, how she balanced between strict and loving—it made him fall even more for her. and as they spent the day together, with her tending to his every need and him trying to push her buttons just enough to get a reaction, jude couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he could get used to this—a life where they shared these little moments, where she was always there to look after him, to keep him in line, to love him the way she did.
and as the day drew on, with the light fading and the warmth of their shared confessions still lingering, jude found himself feeling more content than he ever had. because in her, he had found everything he’d ever wanted—someone who challenged him, cared for him, and loved him with a heart so pure and true that he couldn’t help but love her back just as fiercely.
and for jude, that was more than enough.
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the next day, y/n’s place was a full house. jude had a bit of time off to recover, and it seemed like everyone wanted to pitch in, making sure he got better. the sun streamed through the windows, filling the space with warmth as laughter echoed off the walls. y/n’s mom had arrived early, her arms full of groceries and herbal remedies she swore would have jude back on his feet in no time.
denise, jude’s mom, wasn’t far behind, bringing homemade soup that she claimed was a family secret for healing. it didn’t take long for y/n’s mom and denise to strike up a conversation, the two women instantly connecting as they compared notes on how to best take care of their kids. y/n watched them from the kitchen, her heart swelling with affection at how easily they got along. it felt right, having both families together like this.
jude, seated on the couch, couldn’t help but smile as he observed the scene. the sight of y/n moving around her home, effortlessly playing hostess, made him feel a sense of contentment he hadn’t known he needed. he loved seeing her like this, surrounded by the people she loved, comfortable in her own space. and it didn’t hurt that she kept sneaking glances his way, her eyes soft with affection every time they met his.
“hey auntie,” jude called out with a grin when y/n’s mom entered the living room, holding up a jar of some mystery concoction. “what’s that you’ve got there?”
y/n’s mom shot him a mock-serious look, her lips twitching with amusement. “this, my child, is going to help you heal faster than anything those doctors can give you.”
jude chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender. “i believe you, auntie. if it means getting better faster, i’m all for it.”
she finally cracked a smile, her eyes warm as she looked at him. “that’s what i like to hear. now, i know denise here has her soup, but you’re going to take this too. we’ve got to get you back on that pitch, don’t we?”
“yes, ma’am,” jude replied, his tone respectful, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. “you’re the boss.”
“good boy,” she said, patting his shoulder affectionately before turning to y/n. “and you, my beautiful daughter, make sure he takes this every morning. no slacking, got it?”
y/n nodded, trying to suppress her grin. “yes, mama. i’ll make sure of it.”
meanwhile, jobe and y/n’s brother, mateo, were deep in conversation on the other side of the room. they’d hit it off immediately, both sharing a love for football and an endless supply of banter.
“so, how’s it feel to be the little brother of a superstar?” mateo teased, nudging jobe with his elbow.
jobe rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile on his face. “it’s not too bad, i guess. but don’t tell jude i said that. his ego’s big enough as it is.”
mateo laughed, clapping jobe on the back. “don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. besides, i’m pretty sure he knows it already.”
“oh, he definitely does,” jobe said, glancing over at his brother. “but you know what? he deserves it. he’s worked hard to get where he is.”
“true,” mateo agreed, his tone more serious now. “and from what i’ve seen, he’s a good guy too. you’re lucky to have him as a brother.”
jobe nodded, a small smile on his lips. “yeah, i am. and it’s nice to see him happy, you know? especially with y/n. she’s good for him.”
mateo glanced over at his sister, who was now standing with jude, both of them laughing at something y/n’s mom had said. “yeah, she is,” he said softly, his voice filled with affection. “they’re good for each other.”
as the day went on, the house was filled with warmth and laughter. y/n’s mom continued to fuss over jude, making sure he was comfortable and well-fed. denise joined in, the two women bonding over their shared love for their children and their determination to see jude back to full health.
“you know, jude,” y/n’s mom said at one point, sitting beside him on the couch, “you’re like a son to me now. you take care of my daughter, and we’ll take care of you.”
jude felt a lump form in his throat at her words, the sincerity in her tone hitting him right in the chest. “thank you, auntie,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “that means a lot to me.”
she reached out, patting his cheek with a motherly affection that made him feel warm all over. “you’re a good boy, jude. we’re lucky to have you in our family.”
he smiled at that, his heart swelling with gratitude. “i’m the lucky one,” he murmured, his eyes meeting y/n’s across the room. she smiled back at him, her eyes filled with so much love it made his chest tighten.
“he really is,” denise chimed in, her voice light and full of pride. “and we’re so grateful to have y/n in his life. she’s been nothing but a blessing.”
“oh, don’t get me started on how much i love that girl,” y/n’s mom said with a laugh. “she’s always been the best of us.”
jude listened to them talk, his heart so full it felt like it might burst. he loved that their families were coming together like this, that the people he cared about most were finding comfort and companionship in each other. it made everything feel more real, more solid. like they were building something that would last.
as the afternoon wore on, the atmosphere remained light and filled with love. y/n’s mom kept him supplied with tea and herbal remedies, while denise made sure he had everything else he needed. jobe and mateo continued their banter, occasionally roping jude in when they needed a third opinion on whatever argument they were having.
the warm hum of conversation filled y/n's living room as their families mingled effortlessly, laughter spilling into the air. y/n sat nestled comfortably beside jude, his arm slung lazily over her shoulders as they watched their families interact like they’d known each other for years. her mom and denise were in the kitchen, bonding over cooking tips, while her brothers hovered around the snack table, throwing sly glances her way every now and then.
carlos, always the one to start trouble, leaned back with a mischievous smirk. “so jude, be honest,” he called out, loud enough to grab everyone’s attention. “are you tired of how bossy y/n is? how many times has she told you what to do?”
mateo snickered beside him, chiming in. “yeah, man, because we know y/n—she’s always telling us off.”
without missing a beat, jude grinned, a cheeky glint in his eye. “oh, trust me,” he said, voice dropping suggestively, “i don’t mind her bossing me around… especially when—”
y/n’s eyes widened in horror as she shot up from the couch, grabbing at jude’s arm. “don't you dare finish that sentence,” she groaned, trying to pull away, but he only laughed, dragging her back down to his side with ease, planting a soft kiss on her cheek, to which y/n met with a playful sideways glance.
“what? i was just being honest,” he teased, his voice low but full of amusement.
her brothers looked visibly disgusted. alejandro covered his face with his hand. "we don’t need to know what happens behind closed doors, man.”
mateo pointed at them both, face scrunched in mock disgust. “yeah, no one wants to hear about our baby sister doing… whatever that is.”
“seriously, pack it up,” carlos added, shaking his head. “this is a family gathering, not… whatever this is.”
y/n groaned, burying her face in her hands. “you’re all so dramatic.”
“seriously,” jude added with a smirk, pulling her closer. “it’s just because i’m the only one here who knows how to keep a woman like y/n happy.”
y/n's eyes widened as she pinched his side, hissing under her breath. “jude, shut up or i'll kill you!”
“what?” jude laughed, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “it’s the truth.”
“god, jude,” mateo groaned, dramatically covering his face. “that’s so corny. i think i just threw up in my mouth a little.”
alejandro waved a hand in front of his face. “someone send this boy back to england. we get it, you’re obsessed with my sister.”
jude only laughed harder, leaning into the joke. “what can i say? i’m a man in love.”
carlos pretended to gag. “pack it up, hermano. we don’t need to see all that.”
alejandro shook his head, feigning disgust. “we’ll be fine without my baby sister getting mounted by her boyfriend infront of us, thanks. but really, y/n—how did you manage to do this to a man. he's too soft. it's disgusting.”
“right?” mateo agreed. “this dude was supposed to be cool. now he’s all… whipped.”
jude just laughed, squeezing her affectionately. “hey, i was always a charmer. i won you guys over, didn’t i?”
“please. just stop speaking,” mateo groaned again, holding up his hands as if to ward off more cheesiness. “i beg of you.”
y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile on her lips. despite the relentless teasing, she knew how much her brothers cared about her, and seeing how easily jude fit into their dynamic made her heart swell.
their banter continued, the playful teasing bouncing back and forth, but through it all, y/n couldn’t help but feel a warmth settle in her chest. despite the jokes and teasing, it was clear how much her brothers cared—not just for her, but for jude too. and seeing their two families blend so seamlessly made her heart swell with happiness.
as the day drew to a close, y/n found herself sitting beside jude on the couch, his arm draped casually over her shoulders. she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as they watched jobe and mateo argue about something trivial. her mom and denise were in the kitchen, chatting and laughing like they’d known each other for years.
“if we get more days like this. i’ll die a happy man,” jude murmured, his voice soft in her ear.
“today was a good day,” y/n agreed, her voice just as quiet. “i’m glad everyone came together like this.”
“me too,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “i love you, y/n.”
she smiled, turning her head to look up at him. “i love you too, jude.”
and in that moment, with their families around them and the love they shared filling the room, everything felt perfect. they were building something real, something lasting. and y/n knew, without a doubt, that they were exactly where they were meant to be.
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the next morning, jude woke up with an idea. it was simple, but it felt like the right thing to do. after the whirlwind of the past few days—the stolen kisses, the moments they shared, and y/n taking care of him when he was sick—he knew she deserved something special. something that would show her just how much she meant to him without overwhelming her with words.
his plan came together quickly, thanks to her brothers and jobe, who were more than willing to help out. while y/n was busy at the training facility, working her usual long hours, they got to work.
later that evening, when y/n came home, jude was already waiting for her at the door, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous smile.
“what’s with that look?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him, already suspicious but curious.
he chuckled, reaching for her hand. “come with me. i’ve got a surprise for you.”
“another one? you’ve been full of surprises lately,” she teased, letting him gently pull her toward the car, her heart already racing a little with excitement. there was something about the way he held her hand, firm but soft, that made her feel like whatever he had planned would be unforgettable.
they drove through the city, the setting sun casting a soft golden glow over madrid’s streets. slowly, the cityscape gave way to quieter roads, the urban sprawl replaced by the peaceful, open stretch toward the coast. y/n glanced at jude, who was focused on the road but never let go of her hand. her mind was buzzing, trying to piece together what he was planning, but her heart told her to simply trust him. whatever it was, it was going to be special.
after a while, jude pulled up to a secluded beach just outside the city. the gentle sound of waves greeted them as they stepped out of the car, the salty air filling their lungs. the beach was completely empty except for one beautiful setup by the shore—a large canopy draped in soft white fabric, twinkling fairy lights strung across the top, with a low table set for two underneath. candles flickered gently in the evening breeze, and a cozy arrangement of blankets and cushions were scattered across the sand.
y/n’s jaw dropped. “jude… what is this?”
“i wanted to do something for you,” he said softly, stepping closer to her. “you’ve done so much for me. taking care of me, introducing me to your family… i wanted to make tonight about you. no distractions, just us. and your brothers—alejandro, matteo, and carlos and jobe helped me out.”
her heart melted at the thought. she looked around the beach, overwhelmed by how thoughtful it all was. “this is… this is incredible,” she whispered.
“you deserve it,” he said, his voice gentle as he took her hand again, leading her down toward the canopy. “come on, let’s eat.”
as they sat under the glow of the fairy lights, the waves lapping quietly at the shore, jude couldn’t stop watching her. the way her eyes sparkled as she took everything in, the soft smile that never left her lips—it made his heart swell. this was it. this was where he wanted to be, with her, always.
“you really went all out for this,” y/n murmured, brushing her hand across the soft blanket beneath her.
“well, i had some help,” jude chuckled. “alejandro’s got a real eye for this kind of thing. matteo and carlos handled the heavy lifting, and jobe… well, he mostly just took notes for when it’s his turn.”
y/n laughed, the sound like music to jude’s ears. “i can’t believe you got them to do all this without me noticing.”
jude shrugged, grinning. “they love you. and i may have told them it was payback for you taking care of me when i was sick.”
her smile widened, her heart swelling even more at the thought of her brothers working with jude to make this night so special for her. “they’re going to lord this over me forever, you know. especially alejandro.”
jude leaned back, a teasing glint in his eyes. “oh, he did say something about being ‘the best brother ever,’ but honestly? i think he’s just happy to see you happy.”
y/n’s chest tightened with emotion. her brothers and jude—these were the people who mattered most to her. to see them come together like this, to make her feel so loved, so cherished, it was overwhelming in the best way possible.
they ate, laughed, and talked for hours, their conversation flowing easily as the stars twinkled overhead. the world around them grew quieter, as if the night itself was making room for just the two of them. at one point, jude reached across the table, taking her hand, his thumb gently tracing circles over her knuckles.
“i’ve never had anything like this before,” he said quietly, his voice thoughtful.
y/n looked up from her plate, her brow furrowing slightly. “like what?”
“this,” jude said, gesturing vaguely at the beach setup, but meaning so much more. “family. love. everything coming together the way it has. it’s like… everything’s falling into place.”
y/n’s heart skipped a beat, her throat suddenly tight with emotion. she could see it in his eyes—the vulnerability, the sincerity behind his words. he wasn’t just talking about the night. he was talking about her, about them. about everything they’d been building together. and in that moment, it felt like the last piece of her heart finally clicked into place.
“me too,” she whispered, her voice catching slightly. “after everything with javier… i never thought i’d feel safe again. but with you, i do.”
jude’s hand tightened around hers, his eyes never leaving hers as he moved closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “you are safe with me,” he murmured against her temple. “always.”
y/n closed her eyes, sinking into the warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart against her cheek. this was it. this was everything. and when jude leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
when they pulled away, her eyes met his, and for a second, everything else fell away. it was just them, under the stars, with the sound of the ocean in the background.
“i love you,” she whispered, her voice soft but steady.
jude’s eyes lit up, his smile spreading slowly across his face. “i love you too, baby. you’re my everything.”
y/n’s heart swelled with a deep, unspoken gratitude. her brothers were her world, and jude, knowing how much they meant to her, had woven them into this moment effortlessly. it was more than she could ever ask for, more than she could ever express. how does he do it? how does he always make everything feel so right?
as a comfortable silence settled between them, the waves crashing softly against the shore, a playful thought popped into y/n’s mind. she glanced at jude, her lips curving into a mischievous smile as she stood, slowly stepping towards him with an unmistakable intent in her eyes.
jude’s brow quirked up, a smirk tugging at his lips. “and what do you think you’re doing?” he teased, already sensing where this was going.
y/n settled onto his lap, her legs on either side of his hips, hands lightly resting on his chest. she leaned in, her lips just inches from his. “we’re alone,” she whispered coyly, her breath warm against his skin. “and as your team doctor... i think you’re officially cleared for physical activity.”
jude's eyes darkened with playful intent, his hands instinctively finding her hips, thumbs grazing her skin in soft, deliberate circles. “yeah? what’d you have in mind?” his voice was low, dripping with that teasing challenge that always made her heart race.
without another word, she closed the distance between them, her lips capturing his in a slow, deep kiss that left no room for questions. her fingers trailed up to cup his jaw, pulling him closer as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving just the two of them beneath the starlit sky.
jude responded immediately, his hands tightening their grip, pulling her impossibly closer until there was nothing between them but the warmth of their bodies and the shared rhythm of their heartbeats. time felt like it stood still, the only thing that mattered was the way she made him feel—like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
when they finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, jude's lips quirked into a crooked grin. “you'll have to clear me like that everytime, baby,” he teased, his voice a husky rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.
y/n bit her lip, her gaze still playful as her fingers traced the line of his jaw. “well, i take my job very seriously.”
he let out a soft laugh, his hand moving up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “you make me crazy, you know that?” his tone was teasing, but there was a depth behind it, a weight to the words that made her heart squeeze with affection.
she stared into his eyes, her heart swelling with a sudden rush of emotion she couldn’t hold back any longer. “i love you, jude,” she whispered softly, her voice barely above a breath but carrying all the weight of her feelings.
his teasing smile softened into something tender as he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “i love you too, y/n,” he whispered back, his arms wrapping tighter around her as though he never wanted to let her go. “more than anything.”
they sat there, wrapped up in each other, the sound of the ocean serenading their quiet moment, and for y/n, there was no doubt in her mind—this, right here, was exactly where she was meant to be.
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© PDRIESTA 2024
taglist — @sinners-98-world @stephiii29 @kcharlyy @landosgirlxoxo @judesthighveins @ilovelifes-world @cinderellawithashoe @imnyt @miniemonie2001 @lunamelona @treble-snot
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ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 6 months ago
Text
COMING DOWN
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Pairing - Jackson Rippner x fem!reader
Summary - When Jackson's on a comedown, he can't help but to find his way back to you.
Warnings - ANGST (AHHH), toxic relationship, break ups, attachment issues, past abuse, vague sexual descriptions.
Word Count - 1.7k
Notes - I hate angst.
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The black Mercedes Benz flew down the empty highway within a blink of the eye. The sun had set long ago and Jackson felt the darkness infest his empty soul. Jackson was all alone with his thoughts again and it boiled his blood. When he smacked your number in again only to ring out, again, his polished shoe pressed harder on the accelerator. Knuckles as white as snow from his grip on the steering wheel, his teeth gritted together like rusting gears. Why couldn’t you pick up the phone? He knew you were awake, you were always awake. 
Typically, the consumption of drugs, alcohol and reckless sex only expanded the void. Increased the starvation of you. Those solutions never fix anything for him. The images of you flashed across his mind painfully. He needed you, again. 
As he pulled up to your complex, he almost jumped out of the car window from impatience. As he glanced up to your condo, he straightened his jacket, the side of his hand rubbing against his nose as he sniffed deeply. He pulled out your apartment key to get inside. Note, you moved into this condo after you had broken up. Yes, you did not give him this key. 
There was no need for silence, he wanted you to know he was here. The door creaked loudly, his shadow entered your home first. When it was confirmed that you were out of sight, he slammed the door shut. Gradually, the sounds of your footsteps increased so he threw his jacket onto the couch. The only source of light was the moon illuminating through the open windows. 
“Jackson” you sighed, your arms crossed over your chest as you leant against the door frame. 
He mumbled your name as he waltzed through your apartment, his hands running across your furniture. Nothing was in good sight, you could only see his figure, likewise to you. The both of you seemed to prefer it that way, the less seen was the less it hurt. 
“You didn’t answer my calls” he exhaled, leaning against the dining table, only a few meters away from you. 
The comment went ignored as you slowly approached him, only wearing your silk night dress that barely covered your ass. Jackson believed you did it on purpose, wearing those clothes to tempt him, as if he wasn’t already nose deep in infatuation with you. 
“How are you?” You whispered as you stood before him, looking up to him with those tortuous doe eyes and an innocent tilt of the head. 
No answer. The pain was coursing through his eyes, that much you could see. As you teased him by brushing the back of your hand over his thigh, he grunted. His hand ran up his face and through his soft hair as he tried to remain emotionless. The temptation to devour you in this moment was sickening. But Jackson’s ego wanted to stand in the way. His emotions often felt like a broken dog forced into obedience.
“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked softly, your hand rubbing against his cheek, his lips shifted into your hand as he inhaled the reminder of your scent. It was only ever the smell of sandalwood. He kissed your hand softly, his eyes closed. 
He never liked talking about his profession with you. Vulnerability was a man’s greatest weakness and Jackson was no ordinary man. Blinking back to his common sense, he pushed your hand away and straightened his posture, hoping to intimidate you. 
“Have you done something bad again?” You sighed, planting your hands on the small of his back. 
“Nothing new” he replied coldly.
It was easiest when Jackson was working. All of his distractions were pushed out of the picture. He was able to be his alter ego, a callous murderer whose only concern was a paycheck. However, when he sunk back into society, the morality of it all could hit him like a freight train. 
Your mouth sucked onto his bottom lip. He remained like a statue momentarily, unsure if he really wanted to do this. But he knew he’d always go away with it. He kissed you back passionately, squeezing your ass firmly as his growing erection poked against you. 
“Are you mine?” Jackson murmured, his lips trailing down the skin of your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps. 
“Yes Jackson” you admitted. 
He pulled back slowly as he tried to look at you through the darkness. His breathing slow but heavy as he let his darkest thoughts run free. 
“But you’re not really mine…” Jackson countered slowly. 
“No” you admitted through teary eyes.
“Why did we end it again?” He questioned. If his tone wasn’t full of despair, you’d call him out for sarcasm. 
Jackson knew why it ended, it tormented him. All because you begged him for love. Even though you had accepted him wholly, shifted your principles to be able to include him, he couldn’t give you what you deserved. When you reached breaking point, it pushed him over the edge, he almost killed you in a fit of rage. The guilt smacked him like a truck. You didn’t need him, at all. There was no dependance on him, you had a high paying job, a healthy social network of friends. You had a well off life, he was your only baggage.  
But your ex knew you had a soft spot for him. So he’d always come back, as if this was your shared home. Only because he missed your comforting touch, the warmth of being in your aura. Jackson would always crave your love, the only woman who would ever accept who he was. 
The attachment you were both stuck in - an endless loop - was sickening. No one else could compare to what sensations you have brought each other. Whenever the both of you thought of the concept of love, you thought of each other. But yet again, when you both thought of each other, it never brought positive feelings and emotions over your state of mind. 
His hand trailed over the scar across your breast, the cut he inflicted on you. As he felt the bump, his breathing hitched. A reminder that he could not ever keep his promises with you, no matter how badly he wanted to. 
“Jackson, when you go back to work you’ll remember why” you explained, your tone saddened. 
“What if I don’t want to go back to work?” Jackson brought up, his hands massaging your scalp. 
“You always do” you sighed. 
“I’ve been thinking about you… About us” he admitted, his voice powered by a glimmer of hope for change. 
“Are you still high?” you half joked. 
“No, no” Jackson assured, his lips pressed against your forehead. “I miss you” he confessed quietly. 
You shuddered out softly, the tears swelled at your orbs. Silence filled the dark apartment, you took his hands in yours and squeezed them firmly. 
“You say this every time” you judged. 
Jackson huffed at your answer and pulled his hands free. He shook his head to try to shake the thoughts out. When he took a step back, he stared down at you. 
“You’re not sleeping with anyone else are you?” Jackson questioned, his voice dripping with jealousy. 
It was typical of him to accuse you of that. Not that you had any more obligations to him. Likewise to him not having any towards you.  
“No” you answered blankly. 
It was a lie, he knew it was but it was easier for him to just go along with it. To live out the fantasy that you were both still dedicated to one another. A reality where you were destined for eternity. 
“I want to change for you” he declared. 
“Okay” you answer, a glimmer of hope that this time would indeed be different. 
But yet again, this happened every single time. Both of you just liked to deceive each other to be able to hold onto your past. Jackson Rippner will never change. His name was cursed even though you liked to pretend it was a blessing. 
Slowly, he kissed you again, murmuring against your lips as he remembered your taste. Slowly yet surely, you both spreaded across your bed. He kissed every inch of your skin, wanting to remember every detail of you. As he gradually striped himself, he climbed over your figure and pressed his aching cock to your gushing entrance. 
His hand slipped around your throat. He often wondered if his torment would end if he just killed you. With a gentle squeeze, he buried his large size inside of you. Your sweet moans relaxed his tormented mind as he exhaled in pleasure. 
“How do you want me to fuck you sweetheart?” Jackson asked softly. 
“Slow” you moaned slowly.
He kissed your heated cheek and followed your wishes. He fucked your senselessly. Hearing his name being moaned over and over again was all he wanted to ever hear again. The both of you climaxed multiple times. But you couldn’t get enough of each other. At the back of your heads, you both knew that this wouldn’t last forever. By the time the first peak of light appeared, your bodies were exhausted by pleasure. Both of you smiled weakly as you laid in his arms. As your consciousness tipped over into the depths of sleep, you confessed your undying love for Jackson. He laid stiffly, stuck in a loop of his most conflicting thoughts. 
When he woke up hours later, he squinted his eyes in the sunlight. Turning his head over to you, his cold features analyzed your warm ones. Breathing out slowly, he felt this invisible weight on his chest. Jackson forced himself to get up. Without awakening you, he dressed himself and crept out of your room, giving you one more painful glance.
As he slid into his seat and shut the car door, he opened his phone and looked at his notification. Another job, but these days he just found it as a way to escape the memory of you. He looked up to your condo one last time before speeding off.  When you woke up in your bed, yet again alone. The tears were uncontrollable as you hoped that this was the last time that he was coming down to see you.
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lucidlivi · 5 months ago
Text
she calls me daddy now
popping in with the supernatural/true blood crossover you didn't know you needed!
Warning: not suited for minors, strong language, sexual innuendos, sex, slight threesome, violence, blood, gore, major character death, blood drinking, blood draining, mentions of death, staking, vampire burning, major angst, heartbroken Dean
I will be working on other prompt requests soon but I had this idea and didn’t want to lose it, I hope you guys love it as much as I do!
A switch in viewpoints will be indicate in bold italics
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Reader
"Fangtasia? really?" I snort glancing at the boys beside me.
"Leeches with a sense of humor.. great." Dean grumbles.
"So much for mainstreaming, Louisiana has one of the highest disappearance rates in the country... 346 people in this last month alone. You and I both know what really happened to them." Sam says looking at the news article on his cellphone.
"And you're sure we're going to find help here?" Dean asked in disbelief.
"I mean there has to be some sort of order to things, even for vampires.'" I shrugged.
"And since we're not scoring a date with the vampire queen , one of her pawns should work just fine." Sam said as I watched the eager humans line up to get in to the famous vampire bar.
It's been years now since vampires exposed themselves to the world.
Of course we already knew of their existence.
However, with the invention of synthetic blood the vamps decided they wanted to become part of society, mainstream they call it.
It took the world by storm.
People were lining up to meet and more disgustingly volunteer to get bitten by a vampire.
It was sickening.
As you can imagine this did not go over well with the hunting community.
It was a question on everyone's mind.
Could vamps really change?
Could they be functioning members of a society?
In Louisiana the answer was no.
"I still don't like this." Dean growled as we took our place in line for entrance to the bar.
"No one does, but we have to try to work out some sort of treaty, some sort of peace between us and them, too many people are dying." Sam said.
Oh Sammy.
As if peace between vampires and humans was possible.
We were a meal to them, nothing more.
I could feel Dean's anxiety pushing in to me, making me anxious.
I grabbed his hand giving it a reassuring squeeze. He was quick to lace our fingers together pulling me closer to him.
He instantly calmed a bit.
Dean and I had an interesting relationship.
Sam, he was like my annoying little brother.
But not Dean.
Dean and I shared a connection that went deeper.
He and I just got each other.
We weren't what you would call a thing though.
A hunter's life didn't afford us that privilege.
I knew that no matter what we would always look out for each other and if something were to happen to one of us, the other would never be the same.
It was a terrifying feeling in our line of work, since a brush with death was a daily occurrence for us.
As we got closer to the door I slipped my hand from Dean's.
I could see a lady at the door taking ID's, and from her too straight posture and her perfect looks I could tell she was one of them.
I had seen a vampire or two in my lifetime so they were easy for me to spot.
I felt the air shift as we got closer, causing me to pull my leather jacket tighter around my body.
"ID." she ordered extending her perfectly manicured hand towards me, her eyes focused elsewhere.
I sized her up, trying to guess her age. If I had to I'd say definitely over 100 years old.
She looked experienced, which is how you could tell a vampire's true age.
After a moment of stillness she finally glanced up meeting my eyes.
She glared at me, as if I was beneath her.
I simply stared back at her.
She flashed her fangs willing me to fall at her feet in submission.
I could feel Dean tense behind me, ready to pounce if needed.
"ID." She ordered once again with a southern drawl.
I gave her a forced smile, pulling out a fake ID card.
If she knew it was fake, she didn't say anything, just let me pass. Sam and Dean were let in without showing ID much to my annoyance.
As soon as we were past the rope, the woman at the door disappeared.
I could smell the stench of sex, sweat, and booze as the doors to the bar opened.
If I thought the name was ridiculous, the inside was even more ridiculous. It was decorated in reds and blacks, really selling the vampire theme.
I scoffed at the patrons who were clad in leather and lace. It was like they were proud to be flaunting their flesh for the bloodsuckers.
Perhaps though the most ridiculous and tacky thing was the throne in the middle of the stage overlooking the bar.
My eyes traveled up the throne before connecting with a pair of icy blue ones.
Suddenly it was as if I was being pulled into some sort of trance.
His eyes boring into my own.
I quickly broke eye contact taking a moment to take in his other features.
A mess of blonde locks lay on his head.
His jaw perfectly defined along with his other facial features.
His hands that were gripping the arm rests of the throne, large and lethal.
He was frighteningly tall, even taller than Sam, and he was basically Bigfoot.
It was however the smirk that played on his lips that made my blood boil.
He knew what I was, just as I knew what he was.
A vampire.
Just the pawn we were looking for.
I noticed the perfect blonde woman from the door suddenly at his side, leaning over and whispering in his ear.
I could see her glance in our direction.
She was trying to be discreet but I was on to her.
She was warning him.
Warning him about us.
I didn't get to see anything else as Dean pulled me towards a booth in the back.
I took this moment to study the people.
It was sickening seeing so many vampires and humans mingling like they weren't bloodthirsty monsters, and the humans eager to be their next meal.
"So I think the big blonde guy is who we need to talk to." Sam said looking between me and Dean.
I rolled my eyes.
Is he serious right now?
"Really Sam what gave you that idea huh? The throne in the middle of the stage? The way all the other vampires flock to him? Or, or maybe it’s the fact that he's glaring daggers at us right about now." I sassed feeling the blonde's eyes burning me from behind.
"Okay so what's the plan then, I don't think he's going to talk to us willingly." Dean said ignoring my attitude.
"Well maybe not us." Sam said pointing between himself and Dean.
Dean looked around seeing the blonde man's eyes devouring my form.
"No absolutely not." Dean interjected quickly.
"Dean, it may be our only shot I seemed to have peaked his interest." I said turning my body fully towards him.
"We can figure something else out then, this is reckless and you know that." Dean growled.
"I know but I don't think we have that kind of time, people are dying Dean, people we swore to protect." I shot back.
"Yeah well I swore to protect you." Dean gutted.
"So then protect me." I said rising from my seat.
Dean was not happy, that much was evident on his face. I couldn't focus on that right now though. I was doing this.
I took a deep breath straightening out my jacket.
I slowly approached the throne, center stage.I could see people eyeing me with envy. I was only focused on the vamp, whose eyes grew more curious the closer I got.
I was about to take another step but was halted by another man, who I could tell was also a vampire.
"Sorry no one speaks to Mr. Northman without his permission." He growled at me.
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes at this.
Who the hell did this vamp think he was, god?
"Chow, let her through." A strong voice spoke.
It didn't take me long to figure out it came from the vampire on the throne.
The man grumbled something under his breath before stepping to the side.
I took another deep breath striding in front of the blonde man.
"Mr. Northman I presume?"
"Please, call me Eric, and who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?" He smirked.
I thought for a minute if I should make up some fake name.
"And mind you I can tell if you're lying." He added, somehow reading my thoughts.
"y/n." I offered only my first name.
"What I can I do for you y/n?" He asked interested, as if I was going to offer him my neck.
"I think you know why we're here." I stated crossing my arms in front of myself as if it would put more distant between me and Eric.
"Yes unfortunately , it was only a matter of time before you hunters showed up."
"We wouldn't have to if you leeches kept yourselves in check." I bit back quickly.
"Well aren't you sweet." Eric smirked.
"Yeah not really."
I knew I should probably watch my tongue in a bar full of vampires. However, when my anger got the best of me, I couldn’t control the things that spilled from my lips.
"You have no idea who you're talking to do you?" Eric laughed, standing to his full height.
He towered over my short stature easily.
I wouldn't let him intimidate me though which is exactly what he was trying to do.
"So enlighten me then Mr. Northman."
"I'm a thousand year old viking darling, I'm not threatened by you or anyone for that matter."
"I'm not here to threaten you, I'm here to help you." I retorted quickly, acting unfazed by the declaration of his true age.
My statement resulted in another laugh from the viking vampire.
"Help me? Now what in that pretty little head of yours makes you think I need, or want your help." He whispered menacingly, clearly trying to threaten me.
I would have been a little more afraid had I not noticed the slight crease in his eyebrows as he spoke.
He was worried about something.
My guess, pressure from his boss to solve his little vampire problem.
Order.
Creatures couldn't function without it.
I couldn't fight the smirk that made it's way to my face.
"I think you're worried, 346 bodies is a lot of bodies to hide, I mean we know that they didn’t really disappear did they? Also isn't it your job to keep all these vampires in line? I'm guessing a bunch of rogue vampires going on a killing spree doesn’t exactly fair well with your boss." I taunted.
I knew I pushed it too far when his fangs popped out with a click.
He quickly wrapped a hand around my throat causing Dean to shoot up, pulling out his gun loaded with ultraviolet emitting bullets.
If Eric saw him, he was completely unfazed by his actions.
I gave Dean a look, telling him to wait before he starts blindly shooting in a room full of vampires.
I could handle myself well, Dean knew as much.
“Don’t you tell me how to do my job.” he growled his hand squeezing a little tighter around my throat.
"Do your job then." I spat, pushing him a little further.
Eric then looked deeply in my orbs as his glazed over.
He spoke in an enchanting voice.
"Now you and your little gang of hunters are going to leave my bar, but before you go, you're going to let me taste you while your boyfriend over there watches me."
I knew what he was trying to do.
He was trying to what they call "glamor" me.
Get in my head.
Control me and my thoughts.
No man controls me.
"No offense Mr. Northman but you're not really my type." I managed to squeak out, his hand still squeezing my throat.
Eric quickly released my neck with a confused look.
"Why can't I glamor you?" He growled in frustration.
I quickly turned around, pulling my shirt up slightly so he could see the anti-possession tattoo in the center of my spine.
"Turns out this isn’t just for demons, works for your mind tricks too. Eric this is my final offer, let us help you or we're gonna handle things our way, and then you'll have a lot more bodies to dispose of. We’ll be in town, it’s your choice." I threatened before turning away from the vampire.
I could tell he didn't take kindly to my threats but he didn't retaliate surprisingly, given his nature.
I could see the relief wash over Dean's face as I returned to his side.
"Looks like we aren't getting his help, let's go." I said knowing full well Eric could still hear me.
Dean tucked his gun away roughly grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the bar.
I could tell by his face that he was trying his best not to explode.
He was irate.
As soon as we were in the impala the floodgates opened and all hell let loose.
"Wow you've done a lot of stupid shit in the past but that has to be the most fucked thing you've ever done, what the hell were you thinking?" Dean growled.
I wasn't sure if it was directed at Sam for suggesting I talk to Eric alone or me for actually doing it.
“Dean come on it’s…” Sam started but Dean quickly cut him off.
“Stay out of this Sam.” Dean growled.
I guess now I knew it was directed at me.
“You can’t be serious right now?” I scoffed at his behavior.
“He could have snapped you like a twig, you gave him every opportunity.” Dean snapped.
I knew this was his way of saying he was worried about me but l didn’t like how he was going about it.
“I can handle myself.” I said with an eye roll.
“I mean what was your plan exactly? Badmouth him until he sinks his fangs in to your neck? You had no plan going up there, that was so irresponsible.” Dean continued.
“Yeah well he didn’t hurt me did he?” I scoffed.
“Your lucky he didn’t, you just act without thinking about the consequences.” He retorted.
“Yeah well sometimes you think too much and don’t act.”
“At least you don’t have to continuously save my ass!” He growled.
“Ugh would you stop treating me like a child!” I said my voice rising along with my anger.
“I will when you stop acting like one!” Dean yelled.
I rolled my eyes again, sinking back in to the seat. I was done talking about this. It was no use anyways.
I knew Eric wouldn’t hurt me.
I don’t know how I knew, I just did. He wouldn’t admit it but he needed our help.
I was extremely thankful to be pulling in to the motel parking lot. I jumped out of the car before Dean could bring it to a complete stop, slamming the door in a fit.
I could hear Dean throwing open his door and quickly striding up to catch me.
“We are not done talking about this.” He growled grabbing my wrist.
“I am.” I seethed snatching my wrist from him.
I walked in to my separate motel room, slamming the door in his face.
God!
Dean didn’t usually yell at me, I had no idea where all this was coming from.
"Fuck!" I screamed, before quickly stripping my clothes wanting to wash away this evening and everything it brought.
I turned on the shower, steam instantly filling the bathroom.
I stepped in, the hot water relaxing my tense muscles.
What the hell was up with Dean?
Why was he acting so, so possessive?
He knew I was strong enough to handle my own, yet he was treating me as if I were some stupid kid walking in to the lions den unprepared.
I knew how to kill vampires, this wasn’t my first rodeo.
I was angrily scrubbing my body and hair, too caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t hear my motel room door opening, or the bathroom door for that matter.
I washed the shampoo from my hair before noticing Dean’s presence. It made me jump but only momentarily. He was standing on the other side of the shower curtain, his shoulders slumped over.
“I said I was done talking about it Dean.” I bit quickly.
I was expecting him to start yelling at me again, tell me how stupid I was being, but Dean didn’t say anything instead just stayed quiet.
"Dean?" I asked softening my tone.
Dean was never quiet.
Only when he was in his head about something.
Like I said we just got each other.
It was a moment before he spoke.
“You have no idea how worried I was for you, fuck y/n why do you care so little about your life when to me it’s everything?” Dean said, his voice being overtaken with emotion.
My breathing stilled at his words. I felt tears gather in the corners of my eyes.
Dean wasn’t the vulnerable type, never admitting how he was truly feeling, but here he was laying it all out.
Before thinking I flung open the shower curtain looking at him. His eyebrows were creased with worry and hurt.
I suddenly felt extremely guilty.
I didn’t want to hurt him.
That was the last thing I wanted to do.
Dean was my person.
I jumped out and flung my arms around him, soaking his t-shirt. He didn't seem to mind much as he wrapped his strong arms around me holding me tightly to his body.
I buried my head in the crook of his neck, allowing a few tears to cascade down my cheeks. His hand found its way to the back of my head stroking my wet hair.
“I’m sorry Dean.” I spoke quietly.
Dean’s hand traveled down to the back of my neck, pulling my head up so he could look in my eyes.
Dean and I didn't need words to convey our feelings.
Our eyes alone did just that.
I could feel the heat spreading to my core as his eyes devoured me hungrily.
Dean and I didn't cross this line often.
In fact only once before.
It was a dangerous line to be flirting with.
But in this moment, I didn't care.
Dean didn't either, for a moment later he was crashing his lips on mine.
His lips had a petal softness to them, but he kissed like a man that had been starved for months.
I balled his t-shirt in my fists pulling him impossibly closer. Dean's hand gripped my neck harder as if I was about to float away and he was the only thing holding me down.
I broke away but only briefly to suck in a harsh breath.
Dean pulled me back in again, devouring my lips.
He kissed me as if I was oxygen and he was dying to breathe.
I couldn't help the breathless moans that fell from my lips as I felt Dean's trapped erection on my already burning center.
I wanted more.
Needed more.
"Dean." I panted, hoping he would catch on.
Dean didn't bother teasing. He picked me up quickly kicking the bathroom door open, before gently placing me on the run down motel bed.
He was quick to dispose of his shirt.
I trailed my eyes down his body.
Dean was the kind of handsome that got into my bones, that spoke to me before he'd even said a word.
I licked my lips as I admired him.
I sat up on the bed, not being able to stop my self from placing my lips on his perfectly chiseled jaw. He let out a guttural sound as my tongue worked down to his neck, kissing and sucking, marking him as mine.
He quickly disposed of his jeans, freeing himself at last. He gently pushed me back down hovering his body over mine.
Dean looked at me as if he applied too much pressure I might break.
He trailed his hand down my body painfully slow, stopping to brush gently over my aching core. I sucked in my bottom lip to try to stop the needy whine that wished to escape but I was too late.
I needed to feel him, all of him.
Dean leaned down once again kissing my lips tenderly.
"I promise." Dean whispered pulling away gently.
I shook my head in confusion.
"Promise?" I breathed out.
"I promise to make up for all the years I was supposed to be kissing you." Dean rasped.
I felt my eyes prickle with tears.
I grabbed his head bringing his lips back to my own.
I don't think I'll ever get over the feeling I get when kissing Dean, it was warm, it was safe, it was everything I needed, because with Dean, sometimes kissing felt like healing.
Dean grabbed his erection, slowly rubbing his tip up and down my folds, torturing me with pleasure.
He grunted pushing himself through my slickness all without breaking our hungry kiss.
Dean thrusted at a tortuously slow pace, hitting my sweet spot with every movement. Dean buried his head into my neck, heavenly groans fell from his lips.
I moaned a little louder with each slow thrust.
I couldn't take anymore, I rolled my hips up meeting his.
Dean pushed himself even deeper, causing a sensual whine out of me.
"So pretty when you're whining for me."
I could barely think straight from the fire burning in my veins. I closed my eyes digging my nails slightly in to his skin.
“Oh fuck Dean right there.” I moaned feeling my orgasm making itself known.
I could feel myself clenching around him causing him to cry out in pleasure.
“Good girl baby, cum for me.” Dean whispered in a husky voice.
His tone and praise alone was enough to have me soaking his length, my walls contracting all around him.
Dean began to thrust harder and faster, chasing his own orgasm. When his rhythm became sloppy I knew he was close.
Dean gave one last deep thrust before I felt white hot spurts of liquid coating my still sensitive walls.
Just when I thought Dean couldn’t get more attractive, here he was looking like a god as he groaned, riding out his orgasm.
I could cum again just from the sight of it.
Dean slowly removed himself, satisfied when his seed spilled out coating my thighs.
"I think you're gonna need another shower." Dean smirked.
Yep.
Dean was back.
I was about to make my usual snarky comment but a loud knocking on the door got my attention.
I thought it might be Sam coming to check on me, he has been on the receiving end of Dean’s wrath more than once.
I threw on a shirt and some sleep shorts before peeling the door open slowly.
I was not prepared to see Eric Northman behind it.
"You know for hunters you really need to cover your tracks better, wasn't all that hard to track you down, not with that sweet aroma you carry around." Eric smirked pompously.
I could hear Dean shuffling as he rushed putting his clothes back on.
He was suddenly at my side ripping the door open and glaring down the viking vampire in front of me.
It was the first time I saw them toe to toe.
Eric was definitely taller but Dean was unfazed by his size.
Dean was nothing to mess with either. He was lethal in his own right, and had more blood on his hands then he liked to think about.
"Now if you're done fucking your play thing, I'd like to talk." Eric said completely ignoring Dean’s threatening demeanor.
I felt the blood rush to my cheeks.
Oh god he heard that?
Of course he did, fucking super hearing ability.
"I think that opportunity has passed, we're no longer interested." Dean growled slamming the door but Eric’s vampire speed won out and he caught it seamlessly.
"If you could do me a favor sweets and calm your guard dog here, I believe you and I can help each other." Eric said once again ignoring Dean completely.
"I thought you said you didn't need or want my help?" I finally spoke, feeling my anger rising again.
"Oh don't be smug, it's humbling enough having to come to a breather for help." Eric said rolling his eyes.
I could feel Dean stiffen beside me.
He didn't trust Eric that much was obvious.
I didn't trust him either.
I was realistic though, and I knew our odds would be better with him on our side instead of in our way.
"Hypothetically speaking of course, let's say I was still interested in helping you, what then?" I inquired.
Dean growled from beside me.
“Excuse us for a moment." Dean said through clenched teeth, shutting the door, this time Eric allowing him to.
Dean sucked in a sharp breath preparing his lecture but I quickly cut him off before he could deliver it.
"Look before you yell, let's be realistic here, I think we're in way over our heads and having Eric on our side instead of in our way is an asset, even if I don't trust him, keep your enemies closer right?"
Dean's eyebrows furrowed knowing he couldn't argue with my logic.
"You were mad before because I didn't have plan, this time I do." I promised.
Dean placed a gentle hand to my cheek pulling my lips to his.
He knew Eric would be listening behind the door.
He wanted to make it known I was his.
I would definitely have to unpack this situation later.
Dean removed his lips resting his forehead on mine.
"Fine we can talk." Dean reluctantly agreed.
I gave him a small smile as I opened the door, seeing Eric standing there looking completely uninterested in Dean's show of affection.
"So then let's talk." I said nodding my head at Eric.
"Just you, no offense but I don’t think your guard dog will fit in with where we’re going, also you might want to shower first, if you’re going to be with me I can’t have you smelling of another man, and one more tip try not to look so much like a hunter, I’ll be back in thirty.” Eric ordered before speeding away.
“Fuck this, no way in hell am I letting you go anywhere alone with him.” Dean said.
“The idea doesn’t thrill me either but I’m just going to need you to trust me.” I said quickly going towards the bathroom.
Dean didn’t say anything instead followed behind me sulking. He shed his clothes stepping in the shower after me.
He huffed pouting as he took his hand washing his seed away from my body. I moaned as his fingers dipped in my folds cleansing me.
“I can trust you if you promise me you won’t do anything reckless, I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt and I wasn’t there to help.” Dean said.
I quickly turned around facing him.
“I promise you Dean, nothing reckless.” I said standing on my toes to place a soft kiss to his mouth.
I finished washing myself quickly, then stepped out and towel dried myself.
I looked in my suitcase trying to find clothes that didn’t scream hunter. I settled for a sundress, this made me look more innocent, more naive.
Exactly thirty minutes later on the dot their was another harsh knock at the door. I took a deep breath opening it. Eric stood smirking behind it, clearly trying to provoke Dean. He let his eyes drift up and down my form very noticeably.
“If I didn’t know any better I would say you almost look normal.” Eric joked, that ever present cocky smile still on his face.
Dean wrapped a protective arm around me.
“I swear if you fucking hurt her..” Dean started but Eric cut him off.
“Down boy, she’ll be fine, besides I already ate this evening, though I wouldn’t say no to some dessert.” Eric taunted him.
I rolled my eyes at the pair.
I quickly turned around grabbing Deans shirt bringing him in for a feverish kiss.
Dean smirked in to the kiss hearing Eric sigh in annoyance.
I pulled away letting a hand linger on his cheek.
“I’ll be back.” I assured.
I turned towards Eric ignoring the arm he offered me.
“Well after you.” I gestured.
I saw the the expensive bugatti now parked outside my motel room.
A little over the top I thought, although I guess when you’ve been alive for so long your wealth is vast.
Eric smirked at Dean as he opened the passenger door gesturing for me to get in.
I gave Dean one more soft look before climbing in.
Eric zipped around clambering in the drivers seat. He peeled out of the motel at inhuman speed, making me grip the seat.
“So are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked annoyed.
“A tribunal meeting.” Eric simply answered.
“A what?”
“You people really don’t know anything do you?” He jabbed.
“Look if that’s how this is going to be you can just take me back.” I said rolling my eyes.
“You know your cute when you pout.” Eric laughed.
I rolled my eyes again ignoring his flirtatious comment. He was trying to get under my skin, and he was doing a damn good job at it.
“Listen just stay close to me, and don’t talk to anyone but me.” Eric said glancing at me.
“Eric..”
“No this is serious okay, for me to keep you safe you have to listen to me.” He said.
I glanced at his eyes, and for a moment just a moment I saw some of what I believed to be sincerity. It made him almost seem…. human.
“Fine.” I grumbled.
He pulled in to a field in the middle of nowhere.
I really wasn’t thrilled with this idea now.
I took a deep breath feeling the silver dagger Dean slipped in to the waistband of my underwear. It wasn’t much but it could help me out, give me some leverage.
Eric got out zipping around to open my door.
I got out of the car looking fully at the scene.
There were a few other vampires there, most looked pretty ancient. It wasn’t their looks per say, but their demeanor, the way they carried themselves.
I saw a few humans too, one vampire was openly feeding on a girls neck. If I had eaten I was sure it would come back up at the sight. The worst part is the girl moaned as if she was enjoying it.
Eric smirked as he wrapped an arm around my waist leading me towards the group of vampires.
"Remember what I said, be a good breather and keep quiet." Eric said.
"Fuck you." I cursed under my breath knowing full well Eric would hear me.
Eric's presence instantly got the attention of a man dressed in an expensive suit.
"Eric welcome, and who is this lovely thing you've brought with you, she smells delectable."
"Easy now magister, she's mine." Eric said.
His?
Oh hell no!
"Yours the fu.." I started but Eric quickly clamped his hand on my mouth.
"My apologies sir, quite the mouth she got on her, though it does come in handy." Eric joked.
I nipped at his hand covering my mouth as if telling him he was really pushing it.
"If you'll excuse us sir.." Eric said leading me away from the man.
As soon as he took his hand off my mouth, I raised my hand to strike him but he quickly caught it.
"Yours? What the fuck was that!? I am not now, nor will I ever be yours!" I growled.
"It's my way of protecting you, it's an unspoken rule for vampires that we can't harm or feed from another vampires claimed human, now that I openly claimed you, nobody can touch you or they have to deal with me."
I was still pissed at him but I shook my head in understanding.
"These guys, they're the authority?"
"Well sort of, we work for them, that guy was the magister, the judge of my kind, if you will. The others are area sheriffs like myself, we keep order in our area, and we're all here to talk about our little problem." Eric explained.
"And the humans are privileged to this information?" I questioned.
"No, you’re here to satiate us, but it doesn't matter what they hear they'll just be glamoured to forget, but since you can't be glamoured you better be good at acting." Eric said.
I nodded my head finally understanding.
I would be the only human to remember this meeting.
He was giving me information, leverage.
Eric was about to say something else when the magister cleared his throat getting the attention of all vampires present.
"Now stay close to me, and for fuck's sake act like you can stand to be near me." Eric whispered once again wrapping a cold arm around my waist.
I knew if Dean were here right now he'd be furious at Eric for even daring to touch me in such an intimate matter.
In fact Dean would probably kill him first and ask questions later.
Eric was right, Dean definitely wouldn't have fit in here.
I didn't fit in here.
I grumbled, leaning in to Eric's side, cozying up to him.
I had to pretend.
It might kill me.
But I had to pretend.
I could feel Eric's stupid smirk without seeing it.
"Stop enjoying this." I growled causing a chuckle to fall from his lips.
"Sheriffs, it's great to see you, unfortunately I wish it could be under better circumstances. You all have been gathered here because as you know your state has managed to gain the attention of the authority, and I can tell you they aren't happy. You were put in a position to keep order, lay low, push the movement along, so please someone tell me why it's a goddamn circus out here?" The guy who I now know as the magister yelled.
I could feel Eric tense beside me, his arm getting a little tighter around me.
I could tell the magister was in a significant position of power even without Eric telling me so.
"Sir it's the newborns, they're insatiable, unsupervised." One vamp spoke up.
"And who's fault is that, isn't it your job to handle problem vampires?"
"You wish us to kill our own’s progeny's?" Another quipped.
"Do you dare defy my order?" The magister threatened.
"No sir."
I was taking in all the new information.
It seemed that new vampires were being made, "progeny's" and being left unsupervised after their creation.
It was not only reckless, it was cruel.
"Well maybe the humans have it coming, all they've ever done is hunt us down and lynch us." A vampire beside us spoke.
I glance at him.
He was tall, not as tall as Eric but tall none the less.
He clearly thought he was holier then thou.
I guess he hadn’t come face to face with hunters yet.
"I mean we do kind of deserve it." Eric spoke, surprising me a great deal.
I didn't think he was capable of any compassion towards what he calls “breathers.”
"Wow I can't believe my ears, Eric Northman, the ruthless viking prince suddenly gets himself a human bitch and now he's mr. mainstream?" The vampire spoke turning and taking a step towards us.
Eric let out a warning growl.
"I would watch your next words sheriff, I’m not known for my patience." Eric said baring his fangs.
His hold on me got tighter, if that were possible, I was already trapped against his body as it was.
I could feel the tensions rising as both vampires hissed at each other.
I took my hand squeezing Eric's.
I was surprised when I felt him calm slightly.
It was a simple gesture that always worked for Dean, and seemingly Eric too.
It was a little way of wordlessly saying “I’m here, I got you.”
"ENOUGH both of you! Eric’s right, we all knew coming out of the coffin there would be risks involved, if you can't keep order the authority will come and eradicate your regions."
Eradicate?
As in kill them all?
I was all for killing vampires, but that seems a little excessive.
I worried for Eric.
Wait.
What the fuck am I saying?
I don't worry about vampires.
Vampires are nothing but killing machines.
They don’t have feelings.
Or do they?
I don’t know what I believed anymore in this moment.
"With all due respect magister this is complete bullshit." the previous vampire spoke again.
I could see the magister getting visibly angry.
"We are apex predators, the top of the food chain, and you expect us to just lay down and take it from a bunch of blood bags?" He continued.
I could feel myself getting heated at his words.
He was the epitome of the vampires we killed.
No regard for human life whatsoever.
"We don’t take it, we learn to control ourselves there’s a difference." The magister corrects.
He was all about pushing the mainstreaming movement along, that much was clear, but he could care less about humans as long as all killings and feedings were done in secrecy and done so as not to draw too much attention.
He was just another two faced authoritarian, pushing something he could care less about.
"You and the authority are out of your goddamn minds if you think..." He started.
In an instant the magister zipped over to him, producing a wooden stake before driving it straight through the vampires heart. The vampire exploded sending guts flying everywhere.
Eric quickly turned us around so I wasn’t hit by the debris but he was.
I let out a shaking breath as blood splattered the side of his face.
I didn’t think I would be getting this close to vampire politics tonight.
I was officially over it.
Eric looked in my eyes as if assuring me everything was alright.
The magister wiped some vampire guts from his suit before turning back to everyone.
“I think we’ve all learned our lesson yes?”
No one dared to speak so the magister continued.
“You,” he said pointing at one vampire, “clean up this mess’ and you,” he said now turning to Eric who was cleaning the blood from his face, “glamor your human and then come with me.”
Eric turned to me giving me a look, guess now it was time to put on an act.
How does one even act glamoured? A mindless zombie I guessed.
He stared at me with that glazed look in his eyes, the same one from the bar. He also had something else in there, but I couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was; mischief maybe?
Next came his enchanting voice.
“y/n.”
“Yes.” I spoke quietly as if I was under his spell.
“Nothing happened here tonight, you don’t remember any other vampires being here, you don’t remember anything that was said, do you understand?” Eric ordered.
“Nothing happened here.” I repeated.
“Good…” Eric smirked pompously. “Now kiss me and wait in the car like the good little breather you are.”
I felt my insides boiling.
What the hell was he doing?
He knew I couldn’t say no to him.
It was either that or blow my cover to the magister.
I trusted my skills but not enough to take out an ancient vampire with a simple silver dagger, not while so many others were around.
I realized I was already taking too much time to think. If I didn’t act soon it was over, I was made.
I glared at Eric with furious eyes before leaning in.
He grabbed the back of my neck joining our lips.
I kissed him back with much reserve but he didn’t seem to notice.
He however kissed me gently to my surprise.
In fact he was kind of good at kissing.
What the fuck?
Shut up brain!
This was a vampire for fucks sake!
I willed the moment to be over but Eric was taking his sweet time tasting my mouth.
As we were kissing I tasted something metallic on my tongue.
I knew that taste.
Blood.
I swear if he bit me, I don’t care who’s watching I’ll kill him.
I was confused when Eric pulled away and it wasn’t my lip that was bleeding but his own.
It was his blood?
I quickly turned around walking back to his car as instructed.
I was trying to soak in all the information.
At least now we knew what we were up against.
A bunch of unsupervised baby vamps.
Great.
Eric came back moments later getting in the car. I held my breath until we were far enough away from the field before speaking my thoughts.
“I don’t understand, why are there unsupervised baby vampires allowed to run amok, they need to be taught, isn’t that a little cruel, illegal?”
“It’s unfortunate not every vampire has such a responsible maker.” Eric answered.
“And your maker?” I wondered.
I heard the vampire call Eric a viking prince, I wondered just how he came to be what he was now.
He hesitated a moment before he spoke.
“Godric, he’s gone, he saved me from dying on a battlefield.”
I scoffed a little catching his attention but kept my comment to myself, further annoying Eric.
“Go ahead, say what you want to say.” Eric pushed.
“I don’t know how he saved you, making you crave blood to survive, making you a slave to the night, making you practically immortal, I mean that has to be really lonely, eventually everyone you know will be gone and then it’ll just be you.” I said glancing at him.
“It’s a good thing I don’t care for mortals then.”
“I don’t believe that.” I quipped.
“And I don’t believe you actually hate vampires, I saw how you reacted when the magister spoke of the authority eradicating our regions.” Eric pushed back.
“About that, can they actually do that?” I asked.
If vampires had enough power to eradicate entire regions I think we had bigger problems to worry about then a bunch of baby vamps.
“Yes, they can and they will if the problem isn’t solved.” Eric said slowly pulling back in the motel parking lot.
“So what do we do about it so that doesn’t happen?” I asked turning my body towards him.
“We?”
“Just shut up, and tell me!” I said rolling my eyes at him again.
“I guess the only thing we can do, go on a hunting trip. If we can’t control them we have to eradicate them.” Eric said.
“Alright we’ll be ready then.”
“You and your dog can meet me at fangtasia tomorrow night, sunset, we’ll formulate a plan from there.” Eric nodded.
“Sunset.” I confirmed turning to get out of the car.
“Oh Eric, one more thing.” I said turning back around.
Before he could realize what was happening I balled my fist, sending it flying in to his nose. I heard a satisfying crunch as it connected.
“ If you ever trick me into kissing you again, I’ll kill you myself. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I smirked getting out of the car.
“You broke my nose!” Eric yelled out the window.
“Eh your a vampire, you’ll heal.” I shrugged, glancing once more at him.
“I know I’m a vampire but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.” He growled pushing his nose back in to position.
“Goodnight Eric.” I called one final time.
Eric rolled his eyes before peeling out of the parking lot, the sound getting Dean’s attention. He flung open the door pulling me to his chest. He inspected my body for any signs of injury but found none.
“Dean it’s okay, I’m okay.” I said placing a hand on his cheek.
I took him inside telling him everything that happened.
Well almost everything.
I left out the kissing part.
It would just further cause problems between the two, and besides I handled it.
He groaned when I told him we’d be seeing Eric tomorrow night.
He didn’t want to work with him but he agreed with me, that if we didn’t take care of this little problem we’d have a much bigger problem on our hands, i.e. an authority of ancient vampires that could eradicate entire populations.
“It’s nearly dawn, we should get some sleep.” Dean said stroking a hand through my hair.
I looked at Dean’s face, he had a slight crease in his forehead that only showed up when he was worrying about something.
“Dean what is it?” I asked.
“Who’s to say we don’t help him and then he turns right around and tries to kills us? I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.” Dean says sincerely.
“I know your worried but I don’t think he’ll try anything, he needs our help, besides he had every opportunity to kill me tonight, but he didn’t. Instead he gave us some pretty valuable information, which I’m suspecting he could get staked for if someone found out.” I said my mind traveling to the blonde haired vampire.
I had no idea why he was on my mind right now.
“Are you concerned for him?” Dean asked a look of jealousy and disgust on his face.
When I didn’t answer immediately, Dean continued.
“He’s a killer y/n, a leech, you can’t seriously be worrying about him?” Dean growled.
“I’m not.” I told a half lie.
“What is it then?” Dean pushed.
“It’s just everything might not be as black and white as we think that’s all.” I said trying to carefully chose my words.
“I mean they drink human blood to survive how is there any grey area in that?” Dean retorted.
“Some of them didn’t ask for this life, you know they thought they were being saved..” I trailed off thinking of the story Eric told me of his creation.
“It doesn’t change what they are.” Dean said.
I shrugged my shoulders. I guess he was right. At the end of the day they would still be feeding on humans to survive.
We were prey to them.
“I think we should get some sleep.” I said leaning up and pecking his lips quickly.
Dean was not satisfied with how we ended things but he didn’t push further to which I was thankful. Instead he pulled me in closer so my head was laying on his chest.
I felt the exhaustion starting to take a toll on my body, and the darkness starting to envelop me.
I reached my hand up to touch Dean but was surprised to feel the space empty.
Suddenly fingers were hooked in to my sleep shorts pulling them slowly down my legs. I groaned as lips kissed tenderly up my thigh, making my core burn with pleasure. I cast my eyes downward, meeting a pair of green ones.
“Dean.” I moaned as his head dipped down, his breath fanning over my center.
I didn’t know how Dean slipped down there without me noticing but right now I didn’t care.
Instead of devouring me like I wanted, his lips trailed back down to my thigh.
I could feel my blood pumping with need and desire.
“Beg me for it.” Dean commanded.
Didn’t need to tell me twice.
“Oh god please Dean.” I begged running my hands through his hair.
Suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my thigh.
I gasped looking down but instead of Dean, Eric was there with extended fangs, licking blood off his lips
What the fuck is going on?
Am I dreaming?
I’ve got to be dreaming.
A million questions surged through my head.
How?
When?
Why?
“Eric?” I blushed trying to hide my body from him.
“The femoral artery, like the jugular if pierced wrong can cause you to bleed out in mere minutes.” Eric said licking my thigh.
I looked down realizing blood was seeping out from too little pin pricks. I could feel my heart start to race but it wasn’t from fear… rather excitement.
What was wrong with me?
Was I turned on by this?
“It is indeed the best place to draw blood, so pleasurable and not just for me.” Eric said dipping his head back down, sinking his fangs in to my thigh.
I threw my head back with a moan as Eric drank my blood. His long fingers trailed up my thigh, dipping in to my folds that were already slick with arousal.
Oh god this was so wrong.
But it felt so good I didn’t want to stop.
But Dean?
Fuck!
As I was about to push Eric away, I felt lips against my neck, a hand trailing down my shirt to play with my hardened nipples.
I sat up a little seeing Dean now behind me.
Okay now I know I am in fact dreaming. These two can’t even be in the same room together, let alone take turns pleasuring me.
Eric removed his fangs and started to devour my core, his tongue working expertly up and down my folds.
“Oh god.” I moaned, biting my lip.
Dean trailed his fingers down further and started rubbing circles on my bundle of nerves, making my body writhe with pleasure.
“Mmm such a good girl, wouldn’t you agree Eric?” Dean whispered with a husky tone that made my legs shake.
"Mmm, the best girl.” Eric said removing his mouth from my folds momentarily before diving back in.
I felt the coil in my stomach winding tighter and tighter, begging to spring free. The sensation of Eric devouring me with his mouth while Dean worked me with his fingers was too much to bare. I was so close and then….
I sprang up, gasping for air.
The room was still dark, however sunlight started filtering through the curtains.
I guessed it was just after sunrise.
I looked to my left seeing Dean sound asleep. Eric was nowhere to be found.
“Of course not dummy, he’s dead during the day” my brain screamed at me.
I wiped the sweat from my forehead trying to calm my racing heart.
Why in the fuck would I dream of Eric pleasuring me?
Dean makes sense but Eric?
Eric?
A thousand year old vampire?
What the fuck was wrong with me!?
The worst part is he bit me, he bit me and I enjoyed it.
I deduced I was in need of some serious therapy and counseling.
I took a few deep breaths before laying back down next to Dean. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours before finally succumbing to pure exhaustion.
I woke up to a hand running through my hair. I was hesitant to open my eyes, my dream still at the forefront of my mind.
I was relieved when all I saw was Dean.
“It’s almost sunset.” Dean said placing a soft kiss to my forehead.
I groaned in response causing Dean to laugh.
“I’m not looking forward to this either.” Dean said getting out of the bed and heading towards the bathroom.
I sat up stretching my limbs. I was dreading having to face Eric after the impure dream I had about him.
I was still struggling to understand why I was dreaming about him in that way. I mean sure he was attractive, but he was a monster and I was the one who hunted him.
I didn’t realize how long I sat there in my head until Dean was coming out of the bathroom freshly showered.
I quickly collected myself so I didn't look like a mess.
Dean could NOT find out about this.
I rushed in to the bathroom turning on the cold water. I splashed my face a couple times trying to calm my shaking hands.
Fuck.
Get it together.
I stepped out getting dressed for the night. Dean was already ready to go, reloading uv bullets in both guns.
“Sam?” I asked lacing my boots.
“He’s keeping the police off our backs for now, he’ll meet up with us later.” Dean said tossing me my weapon.
I grabbed some colloidal sliver as well as a couple silver daggers.
“Alright, let’s do this.” I sighed.
Dean grabbed my hand pulling me to his chest.
“If shit goes down, you get out, and I’ll come find you.” Dean said placing a gentle hand on my cheek.
“You and I both know that isn’t happening, we’re in this together, until the end.” I said looking deeply in his eyes.
Dean leaned down capturing my lips in a passionate kiss.
I wished desperately we could just stay in this moment but that was a fairytale and our lives were anything but. It was more like a constant nightmare if you asked me.
Dean pulled away giving me a silent nod.
It didn’t take us long until we were sat in the fangtasia parking lot.
“If he tries anything, I will kill him.” Dean said pulling the safety off his gun.
“I know you will, you’ve only been chomping at the bullet to since we’ve met him.” I said mimicking his actions.
Dean shrugged knowing I wasn’t wrong. I saw the blonde lady from before opening the door. I guess that was our invitation to go in. I tucked away my gun, climbing out of the impala.
“Oh great they’re back.” The blonde lady spat sarcastically.
“It’s nice to see you again too.” I bit back.
“Pam, play nice now, these humans are here to help us.”
I gulped as soon as I heard his voice.
My mind flooded with the images of him tucked between my legs, my blood dripping off his fangs.
Dean must’ve noticed my unease. He put a hand on the small of my back giving me a reassuring pat.
I pushed past the blonde lady, Pam I now knew was her name, and I walked in to the empty bar. It sure looked a lot different with the lights on. Eric once again was sitting on his ridiculous throne. He smirked at me as soon as our eyes connected.
Dean was quick to catch up with me.
He stood so his shoulder was slightly blocking me from Eric.
“So what’s the plan?” Dean growled.
“Oh no formal introductions, straight to the point huh.” Eric taunted looking at me.
“Eric please, save the jokes, let’s get this over with.” I sighed.
“I for one had a great time last night.” Eric smirked.
I glared at him, silently telling him to shut up.
Dean didn't know about the kiss, and if he found out now, he'd kill Eric and then maybe me.
“Well except for that little part where you broke my nose.” He said.
As he said this the blonde lady flashed her fangs at me. Dean immediately shifted pulling his gun and aiming it at Pam.
“Pam stand down.” Eric commanded.
Pam was protective of him, that was abundantly clear.
I was starting to put the pieces together.
Pam was his progeny.
He created her just as Godric created him.
Dean slowly lowered his gun once there was no threat to me anymore. He gave me a incredulous look as I hadn’t told him that part of the story.
“It looks to me you healed just fine, now please let’s get on with it.” I sassed him.
“As you wish, follow me.” Eric said standing from the throne.
“Where?” Dean quickly ordered.
“What you don’t trust me?” Eric taunted him.
“I don’t trust bloodsuckers no.” Dean retorted.
“Ha, I could snap you in half in just a matter of seconds” Eric threatened.
“I’d really like to see you try, give me a reason to fry you.” Dean growled cocking his gun.
Ugh these two were incorrigible.
“Ok enough of the dick swinging contest are we doing this or not?” I asked rolling my eyes at the men.
I could see Pam for once in agreement with me.
I gestured for Eric to show us what he wanted to. He walked down a hallway leading us to a stairwell.
“Is this your dungeon or something?” I joked.
“Yes.” Eric answered seriously.
Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.
“You first.” Dean growled not trusting Eric to go behind him.
“Guests first, I insist.” Eric said opening the door.
“Seriously?” I groaned, pushing past both men, and starting to walk down the steps.
I heard footsteps following behind me, they weren’t heavy like Dean’s so I knew they were Eric’s. He was close behind me.
I felt a chill run down my spine the closer he got.
“So, tell me y/n have any good dreams lately?” Eric whispered in my ear.
I about lost my footing, as my face went pale.
He knew?
How the fuck did he know that?
I quickly pulled myself together, I wouldn’t let him get under my skin.
“Yes in fact, Dean was in all of them.” I bit back.
“I bet he was.” Eric smirked.
I could hear some low growling sounds as we got to the bottom of the stairs.
He wasn’t kidding it really was a dungeon down here.
I felt Dean once again at my side.
Eric disappeared for a moment pulling a lever.
I heard the growling get louder, a vampire descended from the ceiling suspended by silver chains.
He thrashed around trying to break free, the silver burning his skin as he did so.
“I found this one feeding on a human right outside my bar, he’s new, not yet a month old.” Eric said.
“A newborn, I’m guessing his maker is nowhere to be found.” I said eyeing up the vamp.
He looked weak, I would guess he’d been down here for a few days, starved of blood.”
“Oh on the contraire, his maker is very much around, in fact he’s responsible for the surge of newborns, that’s where we need to go.” Eric said.
“How do you know that?” I asked him.
“We’ve been spending a lot of quality time together lately.” Eric joked.
“Where’s his maker?” Dean asked.
“Only thing I can’t get out of him. What do you think she’s for?” Eric asked nodding at me.
Dean was quick to put an arm out in front of me.
Before Dean could protest Eric spoke.
“Tell me guard dog do you know her blood type?” Eric asked Dean.
“AB Negative.” Dean answered quickly.
I was a little shocked that he knew that, but I guess I had to be given blood a time or two since we started hunting.
“Yes, the rarest of all blood types, a delicious treat for a vampire, a treat that is very very hard to resist.” Eric answered.
Oh great so basically I was crack for vampires.
“I’m not giving any of my blood.” I growled.
“Oh you won’t have to.” Eric said stepping closer to me. “Just your scent alone will drive him mad.” Eric added inhaling.
“Fine.” I said rolling my eyes.
“If it even moves an inch, I’m shooting.” Dean says taking aim at the newborn vampire.
I took a few steps closer to the still thrashing vampire.
Eric was right, as soon as I was within distance, his fangs popped, his neck craned to hiss at me.
“I don’t think you want to do that.” I warned.
He hissed again in response.
“See that gun, it’s loaded with uv administering bullets, it’ll feel like the sun is invading every part of your body, it will be a most unpleasant sensation.” I explained.
Dean aimed the gun a little higher, waiting for the vampire to make a wrong move.
“Don’t make him have to use it, all you have to do is tell us where your maker resides, and all this can go away.”
“Fuck all of you.” The vampire spat.
“Why are you protecting him?” I asked circling him.
“He’s my master.” He answered.
“Well he clearly doesn’t care about you, he left you to fend for yourself.” I pushed.
“He released you?” Eric questioned coming closer to me.
“Yes.” The vampire answered.
“You are no longer his problem then.” Eric said.
“You have no loyalty to him.” I added.
“Shut up all of you please.” The vampire cried out.
Eric and I were trying to break him down, and it was working.
“He wouldn’t care if we killed you right here right now, in fact he wouldn’t even think twice about it.” Eric pushed farther.
“In fact he’ll probably just make another to take your place, it’ll be like you never existed.” I said.
“I think we’ll go ahead and do just that.” Eric said popping out his fangs.
“Alright stop, please I’ll tell you, just don’t kill me”.
Eric gave me a satisfied look before going in the newborn’s face.
“Where is he?” Eric growled.
“He’s got a whole nest next to the old cemetery, he’s stashing humans there to feed us. Please now let me go, I did what you wanted.” He begged.
“You’ve been a great help.” Eric said putting his hand through the newborns chest producing his heart.
I could see betrayal flash on the newborns features as blood seeped from his mouth.
I turned away as Eric crushed his heart in his hand, causing the newborn to explode in to pieces.
“Was that necessary?” I asked kicking a chunk of vampire guts away from me.
“Yes, he broke the law so he must suffer the true death. It was either this or let your boyfriend fry him from the inside, I gave him a quick way out.” Eric said.
I took a deep breath, I needed to get out of here, the smell of vampire guts was starting to make me sick. I ran up the stairs, hearing both men trailing behind me.
“You mortals have such weak stomach’s.” Eric said going behind the bar.
He quickly produced a glass of water for me. I took it gratefully, choosing to ignore his comment.
“I need to go call Sam.” Dean said.
“I’ll be fine, go ahead.” I nodded.
“It’s not you I don’t trust.” Dean said glaring at Eric.
“If I wanted to kill either of you I would’ve done it by now.” Eric shrugs.
“Yeah well I’m still debating about killing you.” Dean said.
“For once we agree on something.” Eric retorted.
“For the love of god both of you stop acting like children!” I said slamming my hand down on the bar top.
I walked to the other side of the bar taking a seat in an empty booth. I was tired of the back and forth. Dean gave me a apologetic look before stepping out to call Sam.
I rolled my eyes as Eric joined me in the booth.
“What do you want now?” I groaned.
“Quite a temper he’s got on him.” Eric said.
“I can see you got your own guard dog.” I said nodding my head towards Pam who looked like she wanted to rip my head off for even daring to breathe the same air as her maker.
“Yes Pam, she’s my..” He started.
“Your progeny.” I cut him off.
“How did you know that?”
“I’m not completely dim Eric, I put the pieces together. I saw how you looked when talking about your maker, it’s the same way Pam looks at you.” I shrugged.
“Jealous?” Eric smirked.
“Did you save her too?” I asked ignoring his comment.
“Yes in fact I did. I didn’t set out to create Pam, but if I didn’t turn her she was going to die, and Pam had a hard life, I thought she deserved a little good.” Eric spoke tenderly.
“I guess you didn’t leave her at least.” I said.
“I never would, I made her this way, it’s my responsibility to look out for her, teach her, just as Godric did me.” Eric said.
“Hmm so you can insightful, good to know.” I said offering him a nod.
“You never answered my question earlier, any good dreams lately?” Eric smirked.
I rolled my eyes at his teasing.
“I guess you’ll never know.” I shrugged.
“I have a feeling your boyfriend doesn’t know either.” Eric pushed.
“Okay I’m debating on killing you now.” I said annoyed.
“It’s okay if you did dream of me, I mean it is a side effect of taking my blood after all.” Eric said nonchalantly leaning back in the seat.
I spit out the water I was drinking as the words left his lips.
“Wait what?”
I don’t remember taking his blood.
I remembered then the kiss, when I pulled away Eric had blood on his lip.
“You see when we kissed, I accidentally cut my lip on my fang and you drank some of my blood. It was what allowed you to break my nose, it gave you a boost of strength. Unfortunately it does come with a few side effects.” Eric explained.
Accidentally?
I somehow didn’t believe that.
“You mean when you forced me to kiss you.” I growled.
“Ah yes forgot about that little detail.”
“Yeah what else did you forget to tell me?” I asked balling my fists.
“You see now that you have my blood inside you, I’ll be able to locate you quickly, and I can feel the things you feel. In return your innately more attracted to me, dreaming of me. You and I are bonded now.” Eric explained.
I suddenly felt very violated.
“I didn’t want that, I didn’t want any of this.” I bit.
Eric chuckled and leaned in close.
“Oh come on you’re not fooling anyone.” He whispered.
I could feel my heartbeat uptick just from his proximity to me. I couldn’t control it, it was as if it completely shut my brain out and was thinking on its own.
“I don’t want anything to do with you, in fact I can’t wait for this whole thing to be over so I never have to see you again.” I growled.
“I think you’re forgetting I feel what you feel, I know that’s a lie.” Eric said sliding a little closer.
“It’s not.” I defended.
“I know you want me.” Eric said placing one of his large hands on my thigh.
I sucked in a sharp breath trying to calm myself.
“You want me just as much as I want you.” Eric added trailing his hand upwards.
I quickly jumped up causing his hand to fall.
“Sorry you’re dead wrong I love Dean.” I growled walking away from him.
I was relieved when Dean came back. I quickly walked over to him wrapping my arms around him. He was surprised for a minute but hugged me back.
I can’t believe I admitted my love for Dean, to Eric of all people.
I seriously needed some therapy now.
“Sam’s going to meet us there.” Dean said.
I nodded my head.
“Let us get a few things and we’ll meet you there.” I nodded to Eric. 
“No chance, I’m coming with you. I don’t trust you mortals either.” Eric said grabbing his jacket.
I guess that was fair.
“Eric, I’m coming with you.” Pam spoke.
“No Pam, I need you to stay here and handle opening. I’ll be fine don’t worry about me.” Eric said walking over to her and placing a kiss on her forehead.
Pam gave me a look, one that said if he gets hurt you’re dead.
I gave her a silent nod that it would be fine. I wouldn’t let Dean kill him.
I might still kill him, but Dean won’t.
Eric followed us back to the impala.
I opened the trunk where we stored all our weapons, or most of them at least. I grabbed a silencer putting it on the end of my pistol, the last thing we needed was to attract more attention.
I grabbed some silver chains as well as some silver bullets in case we ran out of the uv ones. I grabbed a wooden stake, before turning back around.
“Really?” Eric asked rolling his eyes.
“I would stay out of the crossfire if I was you.” I threatened.
Dean smirked as he shut the trunk.
Eric zipped to the old cemetery while Dean and I drove. I could see headlights at the entrance belonging to Sam.
It was eerily quiet.
Eric led the way as Sam, Dean and I aimed our guns, taking in our surroundings.
We walked a few steps seeing and hearing nothing.
“I don’t think anyone’s here.” Sam said.
Of course as he said that, a newborn came out of the dark and lunged towards my neck.
Eric was faster and caught the newborn by the neck while Dean shot a bullet through it’s chest. It immediately sank to the ground in agonizing pain as the uv bullet pulsed in its chest.
As if on queue we were surrounded by insatiable newborns, all looking for one thing, our blood.
I took a deep breath.
“Dog, keep her close, her smell will drive them mad.” Eric said pushing me closer to Dean.
Dean gave Eric an almost silent thank you.
It was as if they were suddenly given a silent command to attack, the newborns rushed towards us fangs bared. I fired multiple rounds finding a different target each time.
I could feel my ears ringing from the gunshots as well as the wailing of newborns who were being fried by the uv bullets.
I stumbled crashing in to Eric.
He caught me quickly standing me up on my feet.
I ran out of bullets shortly after, having to resort to the stake and silver daggers. I was wrestling with a particularly strong vampire, my silver dagger doing little to deter it’s advances. I lost my footing falling to the ground with the vampire. I held an arm to it’s throat keeping it’s fangs away from my face.
It was getting harder and harder to hold it back. I suddenly felt blood splatter on my face as a wooden stake stuck out of the vampires chest.
“Oh fuck.” I heard the vampire groan before exploding.
Dean quickly picked me up brushing me off.
“Dean watch out.” I called.
A vampire was approaching him quickly.
But this one wasn’t a newborn.
It moved far better, it was more experienced.
It was the maker we had been looking for.
And it was coming straight for Dean.
I didn’t know what I was doing until I was already moving.
I quickly shoved Dean out of harm’s way.
 I felt a hand go around my neck and teeth sink in to my flesh.. and then I felt nothing.
Dean
“Dean watch out.” I heard her voice call.
Before I had time to react I was being shoved to the side. I looked up to see a vampire grab her by the neck and sink his teeth in to her throat.
“No!” I screamed, grabbing my gun and firing six or seven silver bullets in to it’s chest.
Eric noticed the commotion and ran up behind the vampire pulling it’s heart out ultimately ending it.
I quickly ran over as y/n slumped to the ground, her hand going up to try and cauterize her wound. I quickly replaced her hand with my own, putting as much pressure as I could to stop the bleeding. I felt the tears already welling up in my eyes as the blood gushed from her neck despite the pressure I applied.
“Dean.” I heard her gasp, her eyes filling with tears.
I was soon joined by Sam.
“Dean, her jugular is severed, what do we do.” Sam panicked.
I didn’t know what to do.
She was losing too much blood too fast.
I let out a sob running my other hand down her cheek.
“It’s okay baby don’t worry, you’re going to be okay.” I sobbed kissing her forehead.
“Dean it’s okay I’m not afraid.”
How could she say it’s okay.
Nothing is okay!
“It’s not okay, please just hang on.” I cried.
“Dean, I’m in the arms of my first love, I’m with the only man I’ve ever loved, I’m okay.” I could hear her choke barely getting it out.
She loved me?
It was the words I had been longing to hear for years, but not now.
“I love you too, I love you so much which is why you can’t leave me.” I begged.
I looked over seeing Sam now crying too.
I looked back to her face, noticing it go paler and paler.
My hand was doing little to stop the massive blood loss.
Her eyes slowly fluttered shut as she lost consciousness.
She was dying.
My love, my world, dying in my arms.
I couldn’t let that happen.
I wouldn’t.
I gently laid her down, grabbing my gun.
I pointed it at Eric who was standing there just watching with furrowed brows.
He acted like he was hurt by the situation, like he cared about her.
“Change her.” I growled.
“Dean, you can’t.” Sam said as he started standing up.
“Sit the fuck down Sam.” I screamed at him.
I turned back around to Eric who still hasn’t moved.
“I said fucking change her, now.” I hissed.
He made no movements.
I fired a single silver bullet right in to his shoulder making him hiss in pain.
“I’m not asking again fucking do it.” I screamed.
“I don’t think you know what you’re asking for.” Eric said.
“I don’t care, I’m not losing her, do it.” I said.
I wasn’t thinking straight, all I could think about was that I didn’t want to live without her.
“I don’t even know if it’ll work.” Eric growled getting closer.
“Try, you fucking owe us that much.” I growled.
Eric gave me one last look before sinking his fangs in her neck wound, completely draining her of blood.
I sank to my knees as he bit his wrist forcing it in her mouth.
“I need you to start digging a hole big enough for the both of us.” He said once her heartbeat stopped.
“Why?” Sam asked.
“It’s either that or she dies from sunlight exposure.” He growled dripping more blood in to her mouth.
“Sam go.” I growled.
“Dean you can’t be serious with this?” Sam protested.
“Goddamnit Sam go.” I yelled.
He gave me one last look before running off to dig a hole. Eric finally yanked his wrist away going to help Sam dig. I crawled over to her now lifeless body.
“I’m so sorry baby, this is all my fault.” I sobbed on her chest, not caring that I was getting covered in her blood.
I didn’t protect her.
I should’ve protected her.
It should’ve been me.
“Alright move.” Eric growled pushing me off of her.
I grabbed my gun pointing it at him. I wanted nothing more than to kill him right then and there, but if this worked, she would need him.
He lifted her carefully in his arms jumping down in the hole that was dug. He gently laid her down, before laying down himself and cuddling her body to his chest.
I couldn’t stand the sight,
“Now cover us up. No sunlight can seep through or we’ll both die.” He growled.
“How will I know if it worked?” I said utterly defeated.
“If she wakes up tomorrow night, you’ll know.” Eric said.
I grabbed a shovel dumping dirt over them.
I couldn’t stop the tears from falling as I buried her.
Once I was sure she was far enough underground I collapsed as my body racked with sobs.
“Dean what did you do?” Sam questions sitting down beside me.
“I don’t know Sam, I couldn’t let her go.” I cried.
“It would’ve been better than this, Dean she wouldn’t want this.” Sam said.
I felt rage cloud over my eyes. I turned around shoving Sam.
“It wouldn’t have been better how can you say that?” I seethed.
“Dean I loved her too.” He started.
“No you didn’t, not like I did.” I whispered.
“So what you’re just going to wait here until tomorrow night?” He scoffed.
“If I have too.” I snapped.
I didn’t care what it took.
I was going to see her again.
“I’m sorry Dean but I can’t be part of this, I won’t.” Sam said.
I didn’t answer him.
If he didn’t want to be apart of this then he can go.
“Dean?” Sam pushed again as if he was going to change my mind.
When I didn’t answer him for the second time he finally left.
I brought my knees to my chest laying down beside the pile of dirt that contained her. I felt as if I died right along with her.
Reader
Am I dead?
Is this what death is like?
A permanent darkness?
I felt something cold and heavy on my body.
Where was I?
I can’t remember anything.
I felt something stir beside me alerting all of my senses.
I tried to move my hand and realized I was surrounded by dirt.
Was I buried alive?
What was going on?
I was panicking now.
I quickly started digging trying to free myself.
I was suddenly being ripped from the dirt by a strong hand.
Moonlight flooded my eyes as I took a sharp breath in.
It however provided no relief to my burning throat.
“It’s okay, everything is okay.” I quickly flipped around seeing a tall blonde.
I felt my memories come back like a flash flood.
Eric. Dean. Vampires. Death.
I died.
But I was still here.
That’s impossible.
Unless….
“I’m a..” I started too stunned to speak.
“A vampire.” Eric finished.
I looked at him, suddenly feeling a pull towards him, an unexplainable urge to protect and care for him.
I realized then that he was my maker.
He did this to me.
“I don’t understand.” I said grabbing my throat that was still burning.
“I saved you, you were dying and I saved you.” Eric said taking a step closer.
I found that my vampire self didn’t want him to step away, I wanted him to take me in his arms and tell me everything was going to be okay.
“I’m so..”
“Thirsty, I know, I’m going to take care of you.” Eric said.
Thirsty.
For blood.
I craved blood.
It made me sick, but I needed it.
Eric was about to take me away when a voice caught my attention.
“y/n?”
Dean
I laid by the freshly dug grave until I could see the sun starting to set.
If this worked she’d be up soon.
Please god let it work.
I sat up when I heard something stirring.
Eric arose out of the grave, eyes clouding with fury when he saw me standing there.
“You need to leave now.” He growled.
No fucking way.
“I’m not leaving.” I pushed back.
“Look she will be insatiable, and you’re covered in blood, so unless you want her to have your death on her conscience for eternity you’ll leave.” Eric said this time putting his hands on me and shoving me away from the grave.
“It worked?” I asked ignoring his request.
I couldn’t believe it worked.
“I need to see her.” I said, standing my ground.
“I need to feed her, so unless you want to become her meal you’ll leave. This is the last chance I’m offering you!” Eric growled.
I hesitantly backed up.
I didn’t want to torment her new senses.
I sighed before jogging off in to the tree line so I was out of sight.
I watched as Eric stuck his hand in the dirt pulling her out.
She still looked like herself, but everything was more defined now.
I felt my heart break as her eyes looked around terrified.
Oh god..
What did I do?
“It’s okay, everything is okay.” Eric assured her. 
Her face contorted with realization.
“I’m a..”
“A vampire.” Eric confirmed for her.
I could see her heartbreaking for just her face.
She didn’t want this.
I did this.
Oh god.
What did I do?
I felt the tears start to cloud my vision.
I was completely selfish.
Sam was right, she didn’t want this. But I wouldn’t listen.
“I’m going to take care of you.” I heard Eric say as he went to leave with her.
I couldn’t let him.
I stepped out of the tree line.
“y/n?”
She quickly whipped around in my direction. I saw her eyebrows contort in pain as she looked at me. Eric grabbed her hand bringing her to his side.
“It’s okay y/n, come here, I’ll help you.” I said taking a step closer.
She didn’t budge. Instead just stared at me with longing eyes.
I heard Eric chuckle making me growl.
“Remember that part where I said you had no idea what you were asking for?” Eric taunted.
“y/n come here.” I said again choosing to ignore him.
“Sorry, she only listens to me, she calls me daddy now.” Eric jabbed.
No.
This was all wrong.
This isn’t what I wanted.
I felt my hands shaking.
What did I do?
Part Two: Coming Soon!
297 notes · View notes
galadrieljones · 5 days ago
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My immediate endgame reaction:
I think that after everything, I hate Mythal most of all. "She was the best of them." Was she though? His posture in the end, when she released him really sickened me. How many others did she do this to? As usual I'll just deal with it in fanfiction. That whole thing really messed me up. I have so many feelings. I need to think on it.
77 notes · View notes
ratsinyourskin0 · 9 months ago
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Tumblr media
beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
God he’s so fine I can’t get over it 😮‍💨
So, This is my first post on tumblr, any advice or constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! Sorry for bad grammar and punctuation, I kinda made this randomly.
Gyutaro smut, Fem bodied reader, semi public sex, light bdsm (hair pulling, mild teasing), 2.1k words, I genuinely don’t know what else to add.
———————————————————————
You work as a courtesan in the red light district, you’ve been here.. so long, it feels like it’s been a century.
You’ve noticed life has slowly lost its taste- the exciting adrenaline that comes with the feeling of being in the red light district now tastes bland and flavourless; everything just molds together, the faces of the men you’ve lain with look the same, the same actions, the same sizes, the same warm skin.. death would be more interesting than your current life is. Everyday like clockwork you awake, tend to the house, and prepare to service clients. you put on your layered kimono and begin applying your makeup, a thick layer of white makeup to cover your skin, you darken your eyebrows and then apply some red eyeshadow, and finally the red lip-tint.
That’s the theme.. red, your kimono is red, your eye makeup and lips.. red seems to haunt everything in your life, the colour red almost makes you feel sick.
The day went by so fast you barely even registered night came, it felt like someone was just possessing your body. before you even notice what your doing you’ve left the walls of the Ogimoto House. you stroll through the streets before the eyes of various men became far too much for you, you turn into an alleyway-- not a smart action, luckily, the men don’t follow you.
You walked for what felt like hours, but in reality it was probably just a few minutes. You eventually stopped in an alleyway.. not by choice, but when you step into a puddle and it’s soaked your shoes, when you look down, you see that sickening red. For a moment, your eyes barely registered what it is; it’s a puddle of blood! When you finally did realize, it’s not because you came to your senses; it’s because you heard a scratchy voice in the shadows.
“Ohh? Hold on, Did a courtesan stray from her house? It’s my lucky day..”
Your head whipped up to look up at the voice—it’s not like anything you’ve ever heard. It sounds like he’s never drunken water in his entire lifetime, or even touched a liquid for that matter. Your eyes can’t help but widen as you see the man or thing that stands before you. His posture reminds you of a shrimp! a large man with pale grey skin, black polka dots and mist shaped marks scattered all over his body. He has short wavy hair which starts out black then fades to green.. you’ve never thought much of green but he makes it so.. beautiful. His sclera are an unnatural colour of yellow and his irises are dark green with the kanji for Upper Moon Six written on, you can see his hip bones.. he’s so skinny he’d look like bone If not for the muscle he has! he wears no shirt and only has on a pair of baggy blue pants as well as a long red cloth wrapped loosely around his arms and neck… he holds two sickles that resemble bone? It clicks he’s a demon.
“Aren’t you pretty? I bet you already know that huh? Well? What are you staring at, never seen a demon before? Or have you never seen someone so unfortunate looking?”
He said “unfortunate looking” with a big smile.. almost like he took pride in his lack of attractiveness, your eyes trailed along his teeth for a second.. so sharp, he could bite a piece out of your flesh effortlessly! your eyes fell back to the blood- you don’t see a body? Maybe he ate it?.. he does have those shark teeth!
“Well? SPIT IT OUT! What are you deaf?”
He began scratching his face so hard it broke skin, his expression contorted into one of annoyance. You felt your hands tremble and your heart race. that’s all you could hear for a moment, the pounding of your heart.
“You little brat are you—“
You finally found the courage to speak and yet nothing came out.
“Y-you.. y—y-you’re..”
you watched his annoyance turn into an amused grin- showing his razor sharp teeth Off almost like a taunt, he walked over and stood face to face, your eyes widened and you covered your mouth almost instinctively.
“What? Was I right? Never seen someone like me? Are you terrified? Or maybe disgusted?”
He laughed and slapped the top of your head, he’s very heavy handed. You feel your body jolt with shock before he does it again and again, it stings more and more each time he does it.
“Poor girl, having to see someone as hideous as me! You must be terrified, but I bet your like all those other pretty women.. you must have me for being in your very sight! So petrified you can’t even speak!”
He gripped your hair so tightly you felt a few strands break off from your scalp, he forced you to look up at him- he has a sadistic grin on his face, his eyes pierce into yours and you feel your heart beat so hard it feels like someone’s drumming in your chest!
“You’re so handsome!”
You finally squeaked out, you aren’t scared.. you’ve never been more attracted to someone if you’re honest! He’s so— different! You’ve NEVER seen anyone like him! You feel your inner thighs begin to heat up as you stare into his eyes- you must look like a lovesick fool! He looks shocked at your words, his grin fell and he stared at you with furrowed eyebrows- he looked almost offended before he gripped your hair even tighter- somehow he looked even more confused for a moment before releasing your hair- that gave you the chance to quickly slink away! He didn’t even follow you, just stared at your back perplexed.
That night when you finally returned to the Ogimoto House, you rushed to your room and quickly changed into new clothes- you’re drenched in sweat! You’ve never felt so giddy in your entire life.. it feels like you’ve just been blessed by the gods! You want to thank whatever god molded that handsome man and allowed your eyes to be worthy of his gaze personally! You pant as your hands tremble, you stared out the window for almost an hour, hoping to see him again! You finally came to your senses and sat on your bed. you almost died! Well.. having your hair pulled isn’t anything new working as a courtesan, neither is the slapping.. you manage to relax just enough to fall asleep at midnight.
That night your dreams are filled with that demon, it’s so real you can almost feel his heavy hands on you.. trailing down from your neck until they meet your breasts, he’d squeeze and flick your sensitive nipples- making you squeak and gasp before he slid his hands down your nude body, all the way down to you’re soaked pussy.. his fingers flick your sensitive clit before he began to pump his fingers into you, he thrusted them in and out at a painfully slow pace, your tongues meet in a passionate dance- he pulled your face away with a grin before pulling his fingers out of you and began to take off his pants, before his cock could be released from the cruel prison that are blocking the pleasure you crave, you wake up with a frustrated groan.
That day goes by like every other day, you get dressed, clean, tend to clients.. but the entire day you thought of the shark toothed demon, a heat in your loins every time you thought of how his hands felt in your hair. That night you go back to that alley in hopes of seeing him again- dressed in the prettiest kimono you own and the most you’ve ever tried on your makeup- you look gorgeous.
“You trying to mock me, Brat? Show off how beautiful you are and how ugly I am? I bet you’d never give a man like me a second glance huh?”
There he was again.. you felt your heart throb- you don’t think you’ve ever been so infatuated and aroused for someone! You have to stop yourself from reaching out to try and touch him.
“No, No! I’m not trying to mock you I promise! And— did you want me to give you a second glance?”
You teased him, maybe that’s smart? He does look quite shocked.. his face goes back to a frown, you can’t figure out what type of woman he wants- all the men you know just like pretty faces!
“What’s your name?”
“Y/N! And you are..?”
“Gyutaro.”
That’s such a unique name! You’ve never gushed so hard for a man, you’ve also never tried so hard.. you can’t believe how much you’ve grown attracted to him in just one night.
“Y/N.. You know I could eat you, right?”
“I do! But it’d be the most interesting thing to happen to me in years.. and I don’t think you will, maybe you can— but you won’t.”
“Cocky, I hate that.”
“Well, the only eating on me you’ll do won’t be the type you’re thinking.”
He looked confused for a moment before a deep grey blush flashed across his face before he grabbed you by the hair once more and pulled you face to face, a deep frown plastered on his face.
“You’re real bold Yknow? or maybe stupid- probably both! I really hate that.”
You sighed and your eyes trailed down to his pants, you see the unmistakable print of his erection.. he’s so hard his cock is throbbing! He must not have many women crazy enough to start flirting with him, you take a small step closer to him and slide his pants down- Gyutaro eyes widened but he didn’t do anything to stop you, You dropped to your knees as his cock sprung out! Demon cocks are certainly bigger than humans. His cock springs out against your cheek, cum beading at the tip of his cock. He has beautiful black birthmarks along his cock as well. You began kissing each mark before you finally wrapped your lips around his cock, looking up to see his face- it’s almost like that set him off, like his mind registered it as you mocking him.. that’s all he needed to slam his cock down your throat, making you gag and grip his thighs as he started pounding your mouth like a cock sleeve.
“Dirty slut.. how dare yo— mhm..!”
He’s practically drooling, his hands knotted in your hair- forcing you to look up at his face with a hard pull as he pumped his cock down your throat, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head from pleasure. Tears begin to pool in your eyes; you feel his cock forced its way in and out of your throat; your vision begins to blur; although if you could see clearly, you’d see his sadistic grin as he watches you cry in discomfort. He feels his cock throb, and he pushes down as far as he possibly can to release his cum; he basically forced you to swallow as he fell back against a wall, panting and gasping while he released his grip on your hair.
Before you could even try to compose yourself you felt his hands wrap around your hips and your cheek press against a wall. his strong hand grip your hip while his other rips the kimono off your body, leaving you in absolutely nothing. His hand kneaded the soft skin of your ass before he gave it a hard slap, making you gasp while he laughed once more.
“Filthy little whore..”
He whispered that over and over again before he finally began fucking you, his cock almost instantly hit your cervix- not a soft brush against but hard enough to leave a bruise! That made you yelp, he laughed and began thrusting into you at inhuman speeds- the stretch make you feel dizzy with pleasure, your legs begin trembling- your brain was so foggy you barely noticed when he lifted you up so you’d stay still.
“Taro!”
“It’s g— never mind..”
He mumbled as he pounded into you, his strong arms wrapped around your body like a coat - Your head fell back against his shoulder, and your tongue lulled out. You went slack-jawed from pleasure. His heavy pants and low moans pressed against your ear as he rearranged your insides. This went on for what felt like hours before he finally released inside you, his hot cum squirting into your ready womb. You cried out in surprise and opened your eyes in shock. That shock turned into a pleasure gasp when his fingers began circling your aching clit, feeling around it before he began rubbing and teasing it. It didn’t take much effort for your orgasm to follow after his—your body went limp in his arms.
He stayed silent before he dropped you onto the alleyways floor. he pulled his pants back on and stared at your trembling form.
“Maybe you aren’t as bitchy as all the other pretty skanks, Y/N”
He stroked your hair like one would a dog with a long coat, although insulted at first at the “maybe”, but the way he said your name made your stomach flutter. he turned his back to you and left the alleyway, leaving you naked to think back on this entire endeavour, you’ve never cum so hard from just one round.. is it because you like him? Or just because he’s something new? Either way this isn’t an experience you’ll forget anytime soon.
Something tells you this won’t be the last time you meet Gyutaro.
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cherriecove · 3 months ago
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Fine Line Between Duty and Oaths (Part 7)
Gwayne Hightower x Targ!Reader
Summary: The second born daughter of King Viserys I Targaryen and Queen Aemma is just as brave, beautiful and stubborn as her older sister but cannot deny her growing love for a certain red haired knight who just so happens to be a dear friend's brother. Cherrie's Note: The Valyrian may not be correct i used a translator, please let me know! Use of she/her, mentions of injury with some descriptions, birth, death and child death. Masterlist | Previous Part | Next Part
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The atmosphere of the tourney was electric, filled with the clamour of cheering crowds, colourful banners, and the resounding clash of metal on metal as knights battled in the lists. You sat in the royal box, your eyes flickering between the spectacle in the arena and the uneasy glances exchanged by the lords and ladies around you. The Queen was in the birthing bed, and though the event was meant to celebrate her labour and the anticipated birth of a new royal heir, an undercurrent of anxiety was palpable. 
Your sister, Rhaenyra, sat beside you, her posture rigid, her face tight with concern. Despite her efforts to appear composed, the tension between you both was tangible. The cheers and festive air of the tourney seemed overshadowed by a growing sense of unease.
Leaning towards Rhaenyra, you whispered in Valyrian, "Ziry dōrī nykēda, issa mandia?" She’s not well, is she, sister?
Rhaenyra's lips tightened as she gave a small shake of her head, replying softly, "Ñuha prūmia iātykes. Rāelagon īlva sīmonagon." My heart is heavy. Let us hope she is strong.
The trumpets blared once more, signalling the next round of jousts, but your mind couldn’t fully focus on the tournament. The clash of steel and the roar of the crowd felt distant, drowned out by the growing dread gnawing at your heart. As the tourney continued, your eyes instinctively searched for Gwayne in the lists, a fleeting distraction from the heavy weight of worry for your mother.
Just as the next match was set to begin, a runner entered the royal box, breathless and pale. He knelt before your father, King Viserys, whispering something urgent in his ear. The King’s expression darkened immediately. Without a word, he rose and departed, his absence now noticeable. The lords and ladies exchanged anxious glances, the festive mood dipping. Your hand gripped Rhaeynera’s tighter.
The air was heavy, but the crowd quickly erupted into excited cheers as your uncle, Daemon Targaryen, rode out onto the field, his dark armour gleaming menacingly in the sunlight. The Rogue Prince's reputation preceded him—brilliant in battle, unpredictable, and dangerous.
Next came Gwayne, his green and white banner fluttering proudly as he took his place on the field. A pang of pride mixed with apprehension tugged at your heart. Gwayne was a skilled knight, but Daemon was something else entirely. You glanced at Rhaenyra, her expression mirroring your unease, though her fondness for your uncle was no secret to you.
The joust began with a thunderous charge, both knights hurtling towards each other with lances aimed true. The first clash sent a tremor through the stands as Daemon’s lance splintered against Gwayne’s shield. Both men remained upright, but the raw aggression in Daemon’s attacks was unmistakable. With each pass, his strikes grew sharper, faster, and more brutal. Gwayne held his ground, but Daemon’s relentless assault began to wear him down.
On the fourth pass, disaster struck. Daemon’s lance struck Gwayne square in the chest, the force of the blow sending him crashing to the ground with a sickening thud. You leapt to your feet, heart hammering in your throat. The arena was a blur of noise as the crowd cheered, oblivious to the danger.
“Gwayne!” you gasped, gripping the edge of the railing.
Rhaenyra’s hand shot out to steady you. “Stay calm,” she whispered, though her voice trembled with worry.
Maesters and squires rushed to the field, but you could already see how Gwayne lay motionless, his armour dented, blood seeping from beneath his breastplate. You cared little for propriety or the eyes of the crowd as you hurried down from the royal box, your heart racing.
By the time you reached him, Gwayne was conscious but clearly in pain. His face was pale, his breaths shallow, and a trickle of blood ran down his chin. The maester bent over him, assessing the wound as you knelt by his side.
“Gwayne,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you reached for his hand. “I’m here.”
He managed a weak smile, his eyes finding yours through the haze of pain. “Princess...we need to stop meeting like this,” he murmured, his voice strained but laced with a flicker of humour.
Tears stung your eyes as you squeezed his hand, managing a dry laugh. “You’ll be fine,” you whispered, though fear gnawed at you. “You’re going to be fine.”
The maester worked quickly to stabilise him, instructing the squires to carefully lift him from the field. You followed closely, ignoring the rest of the tourney, your thoughts consumed with worry for Gwayne and the dread hanging over your mother’s labour.
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Hours later, as Gwayne was being tended to in the keep, word came.
Rhaenyra found you in the hallway, her face pale, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She didn’t need to say the words—your heart already knew.
“The Queen... our mother,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “She’s gone.”
The shock hit you like a blow to the chest, stealing the breath from your lungs. The world spun, the walls of the keep closing in around you. Rhaenyra’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. Both of you clung to each other in shared grief, tears flowing freely.
The news of your mother's passing weighed heavy on your chest, a burden too vast to comprehend in that moment. Rhaenyra's arms tightened around you as your legs threatened to give way beneath you, both of you trembling with the shock of the loss. The Queen—your mother, who had been so strong, so regal—was gone, swept away by the very event that was supposed to bring joy. The child she had laboured to bring into the world, the son your father had so desperately wished for, lay in his cradle, struggling for life.
Tears blurred your vision as you pulled away from Rhaenyra, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Anger mixed with sorrow, and your thoughts darkened. Your father’s obsession with a male heir has cost you your mother. You could not suppress the bitter thought, no matter how much you wanted to. It felt as though this had all been for nothing, as though her life had been sacrificed in a desperate attempt to fulfill his need for a son.
Rhaenyra, too, looked stricken, her usual fire dampened by grief. She shook her head slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was all for him... for a son." Her eyes flickered with hurt as they met yours. "Father... he never stopped, not once, even though Mother could hardly bear it. He would have kept trying, no matter what it cost her."
You felt the sting of tears once more, biting your lip to contain the sobs rising in your throat. Your father’s love for your mother had been real, but it had been overshadowed by his desire for an heir—a boy. A son to sit on the Iron Throne. The ache in your chest swelled, a painful, gnawing sorrow. “She was more than just a vessel for a son,” you murmured, voice breaking. “She deserved more... she deserved better.”
Rhaenyra nodded, her lips tight with unshed tears. "I know," she whispered. "And now she's gone, and all he has is..." She trailed off, her voice faltering as if she couldn’t bear to complete the thought. The child, the boy, was innocent in all of this. It wasn’t his fault, and you both knew it.
Together, you made your way to the chambers where the babe lay. Despite the hurt in your hearts, you could not bring yourself to blame him. The baby boy, your brother, was a tiny, fragile thing swaddled in silk. His breath was shallow, his tiny fists curling and uncurling with each laboured exhale. The sight of him stirred something deep within you, a love that overcame even your deepest grief. He was so small, so helpless. He had taken your mother from you, but it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t asked to be born into this world of crowns and kings.
Rhaenyra stood by his crib, gazing down at him with a mixture of sorrow and tenderness. "He's beautiful," she whispered, her hand hovering over his small form as though she feared touching him might cause him more harm. You nodded silently, your heart aching for the brother you would barely get to know. His tiny breaths, each one a struggle, filled the room with the sound of a life hanging by a thread.
Without thinking, you reached down and gently stroked his cheek. His skin was soft, warm, and beneath your touch, he stirred ever so slightly. The faintest of smiles tugged at the corner of your lips. "He’s a fighter," you whispered, hoping, praying that somehow he would survive.
Rhaenyra’s voice was thick with emotion as she added, “He shouldn’t have to fight this hard just to live. He’s only a babe.”
The silence in the room was heavy as you both watched him, two sisters standing on the precipice of a shared grief that neither of you had wanted. The baby’s breaths slowed, becoming more and more laboured as the hours wore on. His little body, too frail for this world, finally gave in, his chest rising one last time before falling still.
The room was eerily quiet in the wake of his passing. You felt Rhaenyra’s hand slip into yours, her grip tight as tears streamed silently down both your faces. Your mother, your brother, gone within the span of a day. It was almost too much to bear.
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The day of the funeral arrived, shrouded in the somber rituals of Targaryen tradition. The Red Keep was draped in black, and the air was thick with the scent of incense and the solemn hush of mourners. The Queen and the babe-prince were to be laid to rest in a ceremony befitting their royal blood, their bodies to be committed to the flames, as was the Targaryen way. The funeral pyre stood on the cliffs outside the city, overlooking the sea—a place of both beauty and sadness.
The sky was grey, clouds swirling ominously overhead as the dragons circled above, their low, mournful cries echoing across the cliffs. You stood beside Rhaenyra, your hand clutching hers as the ceremony began. Your father, King Viserys, stood at the forefront, his face a mask of grief and regret, though you couldn’t shake the lingering bitterness you felt towards him. His love for your mother was evident in the way his shoulders slumped and his eyes stared blankly at the pyres, but his relentless pursuit of a son had led to this moment.
The fire was lit, the flames licking hungrily at the wood piled beneath the bodies of your mother and the babe. The Queen’s face, serene in death, was still as beautiful as you remembered. The small form of your brother lay beside her, the two of them consumed by the fire. The smell of smoke filled the air, and the heat from the flames washed over you, though it did little to thaw the coldness in your heart.
You watched as the fire rose higher, its crackling roar swallowing the prayers of the septons and the low murmurs of the gathered lords and ladies. As the flames claimed the bodies, your mother’s soul and that of your little brother were sent to the gods, to join the legacy of your ancestors.
The dragons let out another mournful cry, their wings casting shadows over the cliffs as they flew low over the flames. You closed your eyes, a silent prayer forming on your lips, hoping your mother had found peace in whatever world lay beyond.
Rhaenyra’s hand tightened in yours, and you turned to her, both of you finding solace in each other’s presence. The funeral was a blur, but the bond between the two of you had never felt stronger. The pain of losing your mother and brother was a shared burden, one you would carry together.
And as the flames died down and the sky grew darker, you both knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
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little-diable · 2 years ago
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Committed Sins – Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)
This is pure filth. And I'm not sorry for it. Don't copy or edit this to Wattpad or Ao3 please. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Priest Riddle and (y/n) keep on playing the same game over and over again, pwp
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, piv, wrong use of a rosary, spanking, degrading, religious connotations
Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x nun!fem!reader (1.5k words)
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“Sister (y/n)?” The sharp voice left her tensing, eyes flickering up from the ground to meet Sister Jeany’s dark eyes. The elderly woman stared her down, hand tightening its grip on the wooden rosary dangling from her fingers, a daunting sight that followed (y/n) into her dreams, remembering the first time she had been forced to kneel on the wooden pearls, ripping open her skin as a punishment for sinning. “Priest Riddle is asking for you, God knows what he wants, but you better be on your finest behaviour. The Lord is always watching.” 
Slowly (y/n) rose to her feet, gaze averted as she followed Sister Jeany down the hallway, not daring to look at the other nuns, whispering about (y/n). It had been months since she had joined the convent, running away from her hometown, her abusive boyfriend, and her parents that have never cared for her. The convent had taken her in with open arms, at least till the first time they found her smoking a cigarette, punished with cleaning the hallways with a toothbrush and only a glass full of water. 
“Look at me.” The elderly woman forced (y/n) to halt, dangerous eyes shooting shudders down her spine. (Y/n) straightened her posture, forced to get lost in the eyes that projected a picture so haunting (y/n) forgot to breathe. “Whatever he asks you to do, you will do, you won’t protest. He is the Lord’s voice on this holy earth, what he asks you to do, is the Lord’s will. Do you understand?” 
(Y/n) could only nod her head, teeth leaving marks on her lower lip to bite down her smirk. It wasn’t the first time she had been called to Priest Riddle’s office, lured into the dark room that has seen more sins being committed than the human eye could count. The other nuns had no clue of the things the young priest did to (y/n), how he touched her with wandering hands, how he fucked her on his desk as if God himself was acting through his flesh cage. 
“Priest Riddle? (Y/n)’s here.” Sister Jeany’s call was met with a soft “Come in, please”. The woman watched (y/n) step into the room, door being shut in her face with a loud thud. The heavy wood of the door would keep their sounds bottled in, drowned out for curious ears, and nosy minds. 
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Tell me, (y/n), how many sins have you committed in the past week?” The priest wore a sickening smirk on his lips, leaning back in his chair as he watched her stand proud before him. Her wandering fingers moved up her dress, all too familiar with the game he was playing, asking the same questions he’d always ask. 
“Four.” He hummed at her reply, eyes focusing on her fingers, watching her pop open the buttons of her dark habit. “I touched myself to the thought of you, in the confessional, moaned your name in the middle of the night, hoping that you’d hear me.”
“You’re walking a thin line, (y/n), soon your luck will run out. And then they’ll all know what a greedy whore you are for your priest's cock.” He rose to his feet as if the Devil himself was rising from hell, boots meeting the ground to walk to her. His cold hands caught hers, ripping them from her habit to undo the last button himself. She was naked beneath the habit, she had hoped that the day would end like this, with her body pressed against his, with her eyes squeezed shut and with her fingernails clawed into his skin. 
“For you I’d always sin, one with the call of darkness.” Their lips met in a bruising kiss, forcing a moan to claw through her, arms wrapped around his neck. The priest turned them around, pushing (y/n) against his desk, trapping her with no way out. He had her in his claws, one with the darkness thumping through his veins, a sour emotion that had been etched into his system from his first year on earth, following the Devil’s every command. 
She was pushed back against the table top, legs wrapped around the priest’s legs. His hand disappeared in the pocket of his jacket, wrapping his rosary around his fingers before he brought his hand between her naked thighs, guided by her moans. Her eyes met his as she felt the wooden pearls press against her folds, choking on her sob, not used to the unfamiliar sensation. 
The priest brushed the pearls through her folds, coated in her arousal, forcing the metal cross to leave imprints on her skin. It was sinful, so sinful, and yet (y/n) couldn’t help but beg for more, needing to be stuffed by him, wanting to feel his fingers disappearing inside her. A heavy “Please” rolled off her tongue, echoing through the room like a prayer spoken by one of the nuns, filled by nothing but the wish to please the Lord in Heaven. 
Her trembling frame was pushed even closer towards him, gasping in surprise as she felt two of his fingers being pushing into her, forcing her walls to part. The priest didn’t give her the needed time to adjust, eyes rolling back into her head, trapped in the darkness he had unleashed upon her body. Curses left her, rumbling through his chuckling frame like a prayer both spoke in unison. 
“I will fuck you now, remind you who you belong to. Not to Him, but to me, to me only.” A protesting whine left (y/n) as he pulled his fingers from her cunt, forcing her lips to part to lick his digits clean. Their eyes kept holding contact while she moved her tongue, moaning at her taste, urged on by the anticipation flushing through her system. “Turn around.”
It took her a moment to follow the command, rising to her feet with quivering limbs, back turned towards him as she pressed her front against the table top. His hand came in contact with her behind, spanking her without a warning, making (y/n) tighten her hold on the edge of the table. A simple “Count” left the man, hand coming in contact with her skin once again. 
Every strike was met with a whimper, fighting against the need to press her thighs together, unable to stop her arousal from dripping down her inner thighs. He found a sick satisfaction in seeing her whimper for him, in leaving his handprint on her skin, clearly marking her as his property, his toy. 
Only as a soft “Six” left (y/n) did he let go of her, freeing his hardening cock to give her a few seconds to catch her breath. His cock was brushed through her folds, collecting enough arousal to push into her with ease, coaxing a high pitched moan from her swollen lips. The man fucked her fast, not holding back as his hips snapped against her bruised behind, forcing himself deeper into her tightness with every thrust. 
“Christ, you’re so big.” Her words were met with another strike of his hand, murmuring a sharp “Don’t take His name in vain”. Like a sinning woman should be punished, he left her begging for more, something only He’d be able to give her, not one wandering with darkness seeping from every hole of his body. 
Her knuckles turned lighter as (y/n) clung to the edge of the table, feeling her walls flutter around him, ready to give in within the first few moments. She was desperate for her release, desperate to let go with the priest’s name leaving her, and with her heart picking up its racing beat. 
“Look at you, trembling with my cock buried inside of you, you will burn in hell one day.” It was a foolish threat, he’d burn right next to her, forever tied together by the sins they keep committing together, but (y/n) couldn’t pay his words enough attention, fighting against her arising orgasm. Her walls clenched down on his cock, begging him to give her the final push. With a click of his tongue he tainted her, forcing her to hold on, fucking her faster with groans rumbling through the man of God. 
One of his cold hands found its way to her cunt, rubbing her bundle of nerves to give her the final push, choking on his name. He kept snapping his hips, cock buried inside of her till he forced himself to pull himself free, releasing himself on the back of her thighs. With his cum running along her skin, the priest forced her to stand, lips meeting one last time before they redressed. 
“Oh, and (y/n),” he called after her, stopping her from leaving his office. “Go and pray, confess to your sins, may he be benevolent with your sinning soul.”
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delimeful · 10 months ago
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let my mind reset (6)
warnings: angst, brainwashing, torture, psychological conditioning, references to injury/gore/death, harmful surgical implants, they are really going through it now, lmk if i missed any
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Where the hours had passed slowly before, now they seemed to slip by all too fast. Every spare moment Roman had was spent in anxious anticipation of the next session and all that came with it.
He had never seen something like the haze used on a person before. Crav’n were invulnerable to it, and he’d only ever witnessed his aunt use it briefly on one of the local fauna once, a harmless and finicky tree-dwelling species about the size of his hand.
(Roman remembered the way Marta had compelled the little creature to pace back and forth, from place to place, wearing its will away until there wasn’t any hesitation between order and action. Then, she’d sent it walking into the nearby pond.
He remembered the way its survival instinct had set in late, the way it began to thrash, and still Marta didn’t call it back. He remembered feeling relieved when his mother stepped in and put a stop to the demonstration, scooping the poor beast from its fate with disapproval etched firmly in the set of her shoulders.
He didn’t remember if the creature had lived through the withdrawal, afterwards.)
Virgil was far from a simple animal, though, and despite Roman’s half-formed nightmares, he didn’t mindlessly succumb to the influence of the drug the first time it was forced on him, nor the second or the third.
In fact, every time the other Humans entered his cell with that unsettling green canister, he seemed just as panicked as Roman, if not more, putting up as much of a fight as he could with a battered body and a wrung out mind. No matter how they tutted or scolded, the other Humans still couldn’t get the mask on him until Roux had him forcibly subdued, which was a tiny victory in itself.
That didn’t stop the drug from taking its toll each and every time.
As horrible as it sounded, the worst part was that the effects weren't painful or malicious in nature. At least that would have been easier to fight against; a logical, instinctive response to being hurt.
No, it was far more insidious than that. The haze dulled pain. First, the physical: it eased away the stiffness of sore muscles and the burning of shocked nerves, leaving only a pleasant numbness behind. Then, the mental: it stalled the production of stressful chemical compounds, replacing them with whatever was needed to trick the victim’s mind into believing they were happy, relaxed, pliable.
Roman had never seen Virgil so unwound, so carefree, and he hated how unnatural the behavior seemed on the Human. It was a miserable experience, finally seeing him without the hunted slant to his posture, and feeling sickened by the sight.
What was worse was watching it wear off.
As though a switch had been thrown in reverse, Virgil would be plagued by a creeping, unrelenting sense of panic and dread, pacing around his cell frantically until a sudden hypersensitivity to touch left him crumpled in one spot, breathing harsh and pained.
Time after time, he was shown exactly how painful withdrawal from even a few doses was, until he was left bracing for it well before the next session had even begun.
“The last guys who had me would have killed for something like this,” Virgil said, nearly panting as he laid out on his back. He had his fingers pressed against his neck, feeling his pulse. His heart was racing so hard that Roman could see the veins pulsing eerily under the skin. A heavy spike of adrenaline, unprompted by anything tangible. “Bet she has at least a few people stashed away just to drain for easy cash.”
He spoke more, like this. Out of turn, about topics that were morbid and pessimistic, as though the thoughts were tumbling free of his mind without his permission. Roman never let his negative reactions to the more grim topics go beyond his ears flickering back; it wasn’t like he had the room or right to judge. They didn’t have very many reasons to be optimistic. Besides, he’d realized early on that the more worked up Roman got, the worse Virgil got in turn.
He still didn’t know the exact details of how Dren harvesting worked, and he was fairly sure he was better off for it. The very idea of setting an entire person aside for something like that was reprehensible, and therefore entirely possible for Marta.
“She said she… she gets rid of Humans that don’t break,” he replied after a moment, the words tumbling freely from him for once. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to turn a profit from it.”
He’d been trying to match the distant, dry tone Virgil had used, but he must have missed the mark, because the Human stiffened, and drew his hand back from Roman’s grasp to press it harshly against his eyes.
Belatedly, Roman realized what he’d just implied. Virgil was one of those Humans trying not to break, was at this very moment barely clinging to his composure, and he’d just been informed he was stuck between two horrific fates worse than death. “I didn’t mean—,”
“‘S alright,” Virgil interrupted, voice rough with exhaustion. “It’s not like I didn’t know. It makes me feel a little better, honestly.”
Roman stared at him, bewildered and still slightly aghast at his own stupidity, and Virgil shifted a few fingers to peer back with one eye.
“At least some Humans didn’t fall for it, y��know? At least some of them got out in their own way,” he continued, a thin thread of hopelessness tangled up in the words. “I was starting to wonder if the rest of space was right. If we were all just destined to be monsters with the right motivation.”
Roman should have been more alarmed at the implication that Virgil felt close to succumbing, that he was nearer than he’d ever wanted to be to a Human on the brink of falling under someone else’s blatantly malignant control, but all he could feel was a painful sympathy.
“You’re not a monster,” he said, and then, more firmly— “Humans aren’t monsters.”
Virgil’s eye widened slightly, gaze intent in a way that would have made Roman bristle in the past.
“They’re just people. They can do good or bad, just like anyone else. And sure, these guys are— they’re not doing good.” A pause, and Roman forced himself to meet Virgil’s stare. “But you have. You saved Patton, and you tried to save me, and you’re— you’re not a monster. You’re a good friend.”
Virgil buried his face back in his elbow and was quiet for a long moment.
“…You’re not so bad yourself.”
Roman hadn’t expected Marta to show up in person, not with how much she had delegated to her brainwashed underlings thus far, but arrive she did.
“Don’t fret, ghiva’al,” she crooned to him, passing by his cell with the lightest clink of her claws dragged against the bars. “I’m here to meet your little pet, not you.”
“Don’t—,” call me that, call him that, he wanted to snarl, but his throat closed up so sharply that it sounded a little like he’d choked.
Marta made her stilted croaking laugh, sparing him a glance that might have been pitying if it had bothered to reach her cold, empty eyes. “You always did struggle with words when emotional, didn’t you? Not nearly as well spoken as your mother. What a shame to see that hasn’t changed.”
There was a sharp clacking as an aggressive shudder ran through Roman’s scales, but he still couldn’t find his voice. Not even when Marta moved on to grip the bars of Virgil’s cell, her attention shifting to the Human where he stood warily in the center of the cage.
Roman had learned more than he’d ever thought he would about Human body language over the past few weeks. He knew from the slight sway to Virgil’s every shift that the Human was drained, likely barely keeping his feet.
Still, he was upright to face Marta, his height advantage allowing him to look down at her, and that was better than being crumpled on the ground at her feet. Little victories were all they had now, and they clung to each and every one.
Roux wasn’t there, Roman realized with a jolt, and the knowledge was enough to drag his mind into overdrive, a sudden double-edged hope springing to life in his chest.
Virgil must have already realized, because the way he held himself shifted into something taut and coiled, like he was preparing to lunge forward at the first opportunity, weak or not.
“Back of the cell,” Marta commanded, voice turned brisk and blunt in a way it hadn’t been with Roman. Like she was speaking to a beast instead of a person.
Virgil didn’t move, barely deigned to acknowledge the words beyond a brief flicker of his pupils upwards.
Marta waited, letting the silence stretch for a brief moment, and then clicked her teeth together in a mild reprimand. “The hard way, then.”
Despite her apparent annoyance, the words held a sort of anticipatory delight, and Roman felt the thick tar of dread slide under his scales as he watched her slide a small, triangular remote from a pouch at her side.
When she pressed the button in the center of it, she was looking at Roman.
It was Virgil who went rigid and fell.
Despite knowing it would undercut every lie he’d tried to sell about how little he cared, despite the fact that he was playing right into her claws, Roman couldn’t help but rush to the bars separating them, a shout of horror catching in his chest.
The Human hit the ground hard but stayed chillingly frozen, with every muscle locked into hard lines. He didn’t make a sound until Marta shifted her thumb away from the button, the motion somehow allowing him to finally go limp like a puppet with strings cut.
“Virgil!” Roman managed, though the sound of it was nearly lost in the sudden loudness of the Human’s gasping breaths. He hadn’t been breathing before, Roman realized with a terrified shock.
Whatever Marta was doing, it hadn’t countered Virgil’s natural stubbornness, and he climbed back to his feet with less staggering than Roman would have expected.
His gaze caught on the tremor to Virgil’s hands, the shuddering of his pulse, and he understood. Adrenaline.
The fight or flight instinct, Virgil had called it while talking with Patton. Roman had seen him choose to fight once, at their very first meeting, but even that couldn’t compare to the speed and ferocity of the way the Human lunged now.
Marta didn’t flinch back when he made loud, skull-rattling contact with the bars, but she didn’t blink, either, keeping her eyes firmly locked on Virgil as she pressed the button once more.
Instead of letting him drop, however, she reached out and seized him by the face, claws digging in on either cheek and holding tightly.
Virgil couldn’t so much as flinch away from the pain, and Roman slammed his arm against the door of his own cell with force, furious at his own helplessness.
Marta released the trigger again, and this time, every gasping inhale Virgil took was dosed with her haze. He tried to jerk back, but it was far faster acting straight from the source, and he had barely a moment before his expression dropped to something hollow and smooth, his desperate strength wavering and then extinguishing like a flame with nothing left to burn.
“Down,” Marta commanded, releasing her grip, and Virgil stood in place for a few long heartbeats before his legs collapsed underneath him.
She waved a hand absently down at him, still scattering her haze thick in the air. “There you go. It feels so much better when you listen, doesn’t it?”
Virgil twitched, a ripple of discontent crossing his face, but didn’t respond. He was shaking relentlessly now, his entire body trembling in a way that had Roman deeply concerned.
“You’re safe with me,” Marta lied, reaching down to glide the palm of her hand over the side of Virgil’s face. “You’re only safe with me. Everyone else wants to hurt you, but I’ll make the pain go away. Always do as I say, okay?”
Virgil didn’t move away, even as her rough skin caught on the wounds her claws had left only moments ago. His breathing grew wispier, slower, until he appeared almost calm, his eyes dazed and distant.
“Let’s try this again,” Marta straightened, and when her hand left Virgil’s cheek, he strained after it for a handful of seconds. “Back of the cell.”
Virgil climbed back to his feet, and Roman closed his eyes as the Human quietly began shuffling across his stretch of cell. He felt all of six winters old again, watching his aunt lead something fuzzy and helpless back and forth, closer and closer to the water’s edge.
“Good. Now, heel.” More shuffling, wordless as a corpse.
How long did he have before Virgil took his own plunge?
It took longer than before for Virgil to regain coherence, afterwards.
Roman knew the moment he’d come back to himself, because the soft grip around his hand had instantly vanished, yanked away so sharply that he’d barely registered the movement before Virgil was up on his feet and backing away.
“Virgil,” he tried, and the Human shook his head, the motion harsh, his hands lifting up to grip roughly at his hair in a distressed motion Roman had only ever caught glimpses of back on the ship.
He’d continued to retreat until he hit the furthest corner of the cell, where he slid down and curled in on himself, utterly unreceptive to any of Roman’s stilted calls. Roman caught his expression crumpling into a miserable grimace before he buried his face in his knees and hid that away too.
The silence stretched.
If there were some right words to say here, Roman couldn’t find them. Even if he did, he undoubtedly wouldn’t be able to say them. The helplessness sheared against his scales like rough sand, but how could he allow himself to wallow in it when he at least still had his mind, his existence still unarguably his own?
Freshly taunted by the knowledge that he didn’t have even that much, Virgil remained still and taut and quiet in the furthest reaches of his cell for what felt like a very long time.
When he did finally stir, Roman was appalled to see the faint streaks on his face where his tears had washed away the sweat and grime.
Patton had described Human weeping as arrhythmic vocalizations, much like Ampens, but with a physical manifestation as well. Roman hadn’t known that Humans could cry silently, like a pup gone still and quiet in the face of danger, with only the barest hitching of breath to indicate distress.
The expression on Virgil now was creased into firm lines, but it didn’t seem agonized or crumbling at the edges. Rather, as he climbed to his face, he seemed to hold the same bitter resolution Roman had seen in him a few times before: during the tail end of their first meeting, and after the fight with the raiders, both times when he’d thought he was about to be left alone again.
“Roman,” he started, and then worked his jaw tersely, once, twice. Rather than continue, he held out a hand, palm-up in silent offering.
Things had changed a lot over the course of their captivity, Roman reflected as he reached out and set his own hand in the Human’s grasp with barely a shred of hesitation. It felt like second nature by now, to reach out and cling on whenever his stomach was roiling with stress.
Virgil watched him for a moment longer, and then wrapped his fingers around Roman’s hand and drew closer, slowly pulling his arm up until he had positioned Roman’s claws just above the skin of his neck.
“This,” Virgil said, each word resolute, “is the best place to sever if you want to kill a Human quickly.”
The words took a dull, ringing moment to sink in, but once they did, Roman jerked back sharply. “Virgil, what—?”
For the first time, Virgil held on, keeping his hand pinned in place with ease even as he had to grip the bars with his other hand to remain upright. Roman could see the way the Human’s pulse fluttered under the skin, a heartbeat racing visibly exactly where Virgil had indicated.
“It’s important. You need to know,” Virgil insisted, and lifted their joined hands higher, to his temple. “Head wounds bleed a lot. Gashes up here are valuable because the blood runs down and drips into their eyes, which will work pretty well as a distraction—,”
“Stop it!” Roman demanded, yanking harder as his panic increased. “I’m not going to— stop talking like that! I don’t need to know how to hurt you!”
At the start of their voyage, Roman would have done just about anything for information like this, anything to feel safe on his own ship again. So why was he learning it only now, when each word and accompanying gesture made him feel ill and rotted down to the tip of his tail?
“It’s not— Roman, it’s not about me,” Virgil said, frustration seeping into his voice. He let Roman drag his hand away from his face, but still didn’t let go. “It’s about them.”
Roman wasn’t sure he believed that. “I don’t need to kill anyone. They’re brainwashed, this is Marta’s fault! I know the truth, now.”
Virgil shook his head, ghosted the fingers of his free hand over his implant scar with a distant, sickened expression. “It’s not that simple. I don’t want guilt to be the reason— Look. If it’s them or you, I want it to be you. I want you to make sure it’s you.”
And what if it's me or you? Roman thought, but the words lodged firmly in his chest until he could barely breathe around them.
“They all made their choice,” Virgil continued once it became clear that Roman wouldn’t respond. “They’ve kept making that choice, every time. You have to want to survive, too, okay?”
Mutely, Roman nodded, trying to ignore the creeping sense of horror. He pulled Virgil’s hand back towards himself, fumbled for speech for a long moment before finding the words and hoping they didn’t feel like a betrayal when spoken aloud.
“The underbelly,” he started, and Virgil’s expression— shut down. Every hint of body language went flat like stone, and just as unyielding.
“No.” The word was final, a sentence all its own, and Roman scowled mulishly.
“But—!”
“Roman.” Virgil lifted his other arm over so that he was clasping Roman’s hand between both of his own. “You’re the only one left, right? You told me that.”
The thought was still a wound-like pang in his chest, even after all this time. “Yes,” he admitted. “But, even still—,”
“No way. I don’t want to hear it, man. There’s nobody I would be willing to use it on, anyhow.” Virgil kept his gaze locked firmly on a point past Roman’s shoulder, but his shoulders were set, his voice steadfast.
There was no point arguing. Not now, when the both of them were one wrong move from collapse.
“Okay,” Roman finally said, and forced himself not to protest when Virgil reclaimed the position of lecturer. It was a struggle not to wince away with each gory anecdote, a full guide on the quickest ways to make the Human body stop functioning or even turn on itself.
“Gut wounds are slow to kill, but they can be painful enough to debilitate. There are vulnerable organs here, below the rib cage, and damage to them is difficult to treat without surgery if the wound is severe enough…”
Still, he held himself at attention, did his best to memorize every word.
If Virgil wouldn’t accept knowledge about Roman’s own vulnerabilities as a gift of equal exchange, Roman would simply have to treasure this information with the same dedication that he applied to the rest of their small crew.
After all, knowing all the individual weak points of a Human would make it that much easier for him to protect each and every single part of Virgil.
Virgil wasn’t going to die. Not here, and certainly not by Roman’s own claws. Not if Roman had anything to say about it.
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babybatss-blog · 5 months ago
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BLUEBERRY SUMMER
Sirius x f!reader, 1400 words
summary: a private relationship comes with private dates, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun!
cw: tiny bit of swearing and kissing, but mainly just good ol’ fluff!
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Although you were over the moon when Sirius confessed his feelings to you, it would be puerile to admit this didn’t come with its own reservations. Your boyfriend was previously never one for relationships, rather finding comfort in one-night stands and casual situationships which garner no real meaning to them. Therefore, you could already sense the judging glances of your classmates at your ideocracy for getting with him. “He’s just going to break your heart” “You know he’s not serious right” were upon the few back-handed comments you expected to come your way, so you reciprocated feelings with apprehensiveness.
As long as there were no public displays of affection for the first few months together you were more than happy to be together, relishing in silent appreciation and lovelorn glances across crowded rooms. And Sirius was surprisingly accepting of this arrangement, sure in his usual determined stance to prove how gentlemanly and romantic he could be. Hence your first official date was arranged, where you are now walking to the outskirts of school towards a man with raven hair and a cigarette between his black painted nails and silver jewellery.
“Hey gorgeous” sounds a deep yet humorous voice, blowing smoke out of his mouth. His smirk is sickening, poised in perfect nonchalance with his crooked posture and crossed arms. “Hey sexy” you return, attempting to copy his brazen tone despite the feeling of your heart coming out of your mouth. How he returned your feelings you’ll never know, but thank merlin he made a move because you never would have. But this hushed lust between you makes him feel knew again, like a puppy discovering a soft toy that it will cherish for the rest of its life. “You ready for our date?” He asks, once again taking a puff of his readily disappearing cigarette. “Of course I am. You going to tell me where we’re going now?” To this he chuckles, releasing a thick cloud of smoke between his pearly white teeth. “No way. This is a surprise doll.”
Doll. A brand-new nickname, one that he tested out for the first time in this moment. It makes your breath get caught, but you would never admit it. Nonchalance is the game after all. Instead, you opt to play into his little game, prodding at the secret topic of the date’s whereabouts. “Come on, you sure?! You know I hate surprises.”
“I know, but I love your annoyed little face more. Let’s get going.” He drops his cigarette, stamping in out on the floor before leading the way onto a small, dirt trail. It’s thin, winding and turning along trees and ruins that you didn’t even realise were there. “It’s really pretty here Sirius” you say, admiring the scenery. “Pretty and private, just how my girl likes it” he winks. The two of you stay silent for a little while, enjoying the sound of your footsteps and the birds above. Soon enough the sound of rushing water enters your ears, calming and sincere in its clear stream. Around a corner the river appears, only a few feet in length but strong in it’s push. “Theres some rocks over there we need to use to cross. You need to hold my hand doll?” Although you don’t really need his help you grab on anyway, not missing an opportunity to feel his strong touch. He leads you over to a river, and unexpectedly to his confident aura you drop his hand and jump over the rocks with ease.
“Fucking show off” he scoffs, slowly treading over the rocks while you chuckle. If he wants you to be public one day, you’re going to have to do some work to change that cocky attitude of his. You hold out your hand once more to him, pouting to show your fake apology. He takes your hand with a smile, not even attempting to keep the fake argument alive. “Alright, we’re almost there. And I want you to promise me one thing… DON’T pass out from excitement when we get there” You cannot help but laugh, somehow unsure if he’s joking or being serious. “Just lead the way Sirius!” Hand in hand you walk up the steep but small hill, which reveals a beautiful, picturesque sight.
Laid out in front of you is a large field, filled to the brim with wildflowers like dandelions and meadowsweet. Further down is an oak tree, sprawling and shadowed over a picnic set. “Sirius!!” You say, hands going to your mouth in shock. Never one to be good with meaningful complements towards him, Sirius merely jogs forward, clearly hinting for you to join him. You run after him, both yours and his hair sprawling in the warm air and bees flying around you. Out of breath you arrive at the picnic, displaying berries, pancakes, eggs and sandwiches. “How did you? When did you?” The question leave your mouth uncomplete and rushed, unsure how to even present your confusion at such a nice action. Sirius laughs, deep from his chest with twinkling eyes. “The boys and I like to go on late night walks and discovered this spot. As for the food, I may have annoyed some kitchen elves to donate some of breakfast leftovers to me. Despite the unflattering response, you can’t help but blush at his uncharacteristic thoughtfulness.
The two of you sit down, respectively grabbing a sandwich and watermelon slice each. “So tell me Sirius… Why did I see you, James, Peter and Remus running down the hall the other day with smoke bombs in hand?” You ask, a condescending tint in your tone. Sirius doesn’t appear to mind the judgment, as he laughs and explains himself. “You saw that? Well, we may have tried to get the Slytherin common room into chaos after Lucius dobbed me in for sneaking out after curfew. Clearly didn’t work out though, because a whole bunch of those knuckleheads had a free period then. Suppose we didn’t exactly think it through, did we?” He jokes. You merely shake your head, somehow second hand embarrassed by his antics. “Was that really a good way to exact revenge?” “Oh yeah, one hundred percent. Filch had us cleaning the owlery for the rest of the week after Lucius’ dickhead move!”
You throw a blueberry at him in a playful act of defiance, which comically splatters on his forehead and rolls down to his eyebrow. “You prick!” He lambasts, picking up a whole handful and pelting it at you, covering your whole outfit in a purple-ish blue hue. You squeal in shock at this, falling back onto the mat but not being safe from his attack as he grabs another and another and another, pelting them at various body parts you fail to conceal. Unsure what to do to stop his assault you jump up, sprinting away from him into the colourful spread surrounding you. Sirius also jumps up, grabbing another handful (which now leaves the bowl empty) and charges after you. His legs are longer than yours, so he quickly catches up to your screams of delight and fear, palming the handful right into your hair and scooping you up into his arms. “Oh my god Sirius!!” You scream, as he places you down after a couple of spins. “You ruined my hair!”
“Relax darling, we have magic for a reason.” With a quick flick of the wand once sitting in his pocket he pulls the juice out of your hair, returning it to is previous state. “There you go, as gorgeous as ever.” You pout but with a peck to your forehead all is brought to normal and that same smile he adores is returned to your face.
“You’re so dumb Sirius.” This comment is contrasted by the smile on your face, tucking his hair behind his face affectionately while you study his features. “You know you love me” he says, leaning in to kiss your lips and wrapping his arms around your waist. In this sunny field the two of you kiss in a state of euphoria, enjoying the day without any interruptions or judgment. Between you it would be perfect to stay together forever, in a bliss of flowers and good food.
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needle-thread-thimble-spear · 3 months ago
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Revolutionary Girl Utena and Epistemic Violence
or
Why Anthy is not a trans girl (but she is to me)
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Ohtori, as any good setting tends to, carries a lot of thematic weight. It’s a fairy world, where metaphorical illusion blurs personal hopes over a poisoned interior structure, to the point where an outside perspective may struggle to distinguish between what a character is thinking and what is actually happening. Time and memory are suggestions whispered in the ear of its students, a cyclic hell where the same puppets are played in position, memories broken but dreams intact, to test new victims and forge new swords. A kingdom of nowhen, ruled from above by a king that refuses to see that the prison he built cannot ever free him. A hierarchy where the misogyny taught to children to prepare them for the grown up version is baked into the very structure of the world, belying a culture of horrible sexual violence. And at the very bottom of that hierarchy, the victim-witch, is the kings own sister. A sort of broken Omelas, where one girl must suffer forever and ever, not to end the suffering of others, but to keep them in the dark. Especially her brother. What Ohtori is, and the hierarchies that it represents both within the work and outside of it, hinges on the suffering of that girl. And, maybe more importantly, her silence.
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Revolutionary Girl Utena changed my life. I’ve been saying this nearly two years now, mostly as a joke, but with distance I can see it really isn’t. When you are in the depths of an abusive relationship, it is extremely difficult to see what’s happening to you. I don’t wish to dwell on my own story here too much, but how can I ignore it? RGU was the language I used to understand what had happened to me. Images from the show flit through my mind as though I were a Tamarian. Utena, in the window. Anthy, with the candelabra. Utena, her hands cut with thorns. Anthy with the white beret. After finishing the show for the first time I felt sickened. Not merely because of the subject matter depicted, raw and horrible as it is, but because I saw myself in it. Why do I feel such a kinship with Anthy?
I think, dear reader, you may be able to imagine the horror inherent to that realization. You might have felt it, you may be feeling it now.
It seemed obvious to me then, for reasons I could not begin to fathom, that Anthy was a trans girl. Reeling from my first watch, this felt like the only conclusion I could draw though I couldn’t tell you why. For years, I have drafted and redrafted essays attempting to justify this feeling. Recently, I posted an reading of Miki as a transfem character, and I don’t feel particularly strongly about that reading! Sure, aspects of his character were relatable to me, I could draw analogies well enough, but that was completely secondary to my actual goal. Practice for the transfem Anthy essay. Looking back on what I’d written now, I don’t. Hate? What I wrote. There’s definitely some aspects I’d repudiate now. If you enjoyed reading it, if it meant something to you, I’m glad. But even as I was writing it it felt incomplete and limited. And I believe I understand why.
What did I get wrong about Miki and Kozue? What lies in Ohtori’s heart? What lies in that bed of rotten rose petals?
We all know what does, but we do not want to see it and certainly don’t want to talk about it.
It’s Nanami’s disgust with Anthy, with herself. It’s Miki and Kozue’s confused but earnest posturing. It’s Utena looking up at Akio, it’s Anthy’s vacant stare.
Even here, I’m speaking in abbreviated reference. But it’s abuse, sexual, at times incestuous abuse, that touches every character in RGU.
I’d recently seen a few posts which I think hit on a really common phenomena among fans of the show. Our own stories, our own disgust, our own fears and our own traumas, sort of get in the way when we talk about RGU. I think it’s a natural consequence. RGU deals with heavy subject matter that is very difficult to sit with. I don’t think it’d be incorrect to say most western fans of RGU are queer in some way. We’re much more likely, as consequence, to suffer from interpersonal abuse. And naturally, we are drawn to these characters since they represent, with so few holds barred, some of our worst experiences. But does that make them like us?
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For the record, I think it would be ridiculous to suggest that RGU isn't a queer show and that it isn't filled with queer characters. But, for as obvious a conclusion as this is, a surprising depth of that queerness is veiled in subtext. It’s worth considering, the endless arguments over whether Anthy and Utena are lesbians or bisexual, is sort of inconsequential. The important thing is that they have escaped, together! We could suppose that, were Ohtori a real place, we could go track down the two of them and demand from them an answer. How do you feel, Anthy, about your attraction to Akio? What does that mean to you? Would you please quell that horrible disgust we feel thinking about it? Inquiring readers would like to feel better know!
When one leaves Ohtori, one leaves the view of the audience. Utena and Anthy are in love with one another, but what that means to them (and themselves) is out of our reach.
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And yet, I can’t seem to shake my original conclusion, from my first watch. Surely it cannot be intended! Hell, even the fact that Anthy is desi is sort of incidental to any commentary on social injustice, the motivation for depicting her (and Akio) this way was to exoticize them relative to the rest of the school. So is this image of Anthy as a brown trans girl, her position in Ohtori being a result of transmisogyny, some western myopia? Mere projection of the aggrieved self on a character who, by her nature, absorbs the feelings and impressions of those around her?
Sort of?
Revolutionary Girl Utena was created in a Japanese cultural context, to be sure, but it’s worth noting that while the precise execution of (trans)misogyny and other gender injustices may vary from culture to culture, patriarchy isn’t exactly exclusive to the west. There is a lot of different directions we could run in here, but the one I want to focus on is epistemic violence (a good primer linked here if the term is unfamiliar). *
In Ohtori, all girls are like princesses, unless they are like witches. And, sooner or later, all girls are like the rose bride, the doll-witch, the synthesis. This is how patriarchy works. There is a concept of “permissible” femininity, and an “impermissible” feminity. There is the wife, the mother, the domestic servant, who is permitted some limited social power by her utility to a patriarch (primarily as a mother to trueborn children). Then there is, well, everyone else. “Loose” women, sure, but also those who have been damaged by sexual violence. Those who cannot bear children, because of some accident of their physiology. These women are used, for feminized labor, for sex, but because of the stigma associated with them and the issues they present toward patrilineal succession, they are subject to various censure. One does not talk about survivors of sexual violence or sex workers in polite society. It is possible for some to travel between these two categories, although it is far, far easier to go from “type 1” to “type 2” than the other direction. Indeed, for some it is not possible to have ones “virtue” restored. If we aren’t being reduced to predatory inhuman monsters, trans women, both a hypersexualized object of intense fetishization and incapable of bearing children, are placed into the second category automatically. Lots of would be abusers are happy to whisper in our ears, that they will treat us like we are “type 1”, but invariably they do not.**
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The most maddening thing to me about being a trans woman is this, inability for anyone to see the violence that happens to you. People don’t believe you can be the subject of (sexual) violence, even though the fact it occurs to you, regularly, should be obvious to anyone who thinks about how we are perceived for just a moment! You cannot speak up without sounding delusional, it can happen right in front of a stranger, your best friend, and they wont bat an eye. That you are so incredibly disgusting, no one would want to hurt you that way.
Anthy isn’t a trans girl. But the system that silences her, treats her like she deserves her victimization, that she is irrevocably tainted by her relationship with Akio, the system that keeps us, the audience, from internalizing the dreadful truth of her character, this veil of silence, of covered ears and closed eyes, is extant in the lives of all misbegotten gender-oppressed rejects. If we are going to draw analogies between ourselves and Anthy, or Utena, or Nanami, or any the rest of them, we need to pull back that veil. Indeed, it's confronting (and then escaping from) that choking, word-stopping bile that sits at the core of RGU's thesis. I don’t think it’s wrong for us to relate to the characters in RGU, and write about that. But we might stop to consider why before we do!
*If you’re curious to read more about patriarchy across cultures, here is a really incisive article on the phenomena of third sexing, the operation of (trans)misogyny and gendered violence in parallel across cultural contexts, and how that relates to the western and desi sphere (but also more broadly).
**It should also be noted that there can be no comparison of suffering of anyone under patriarchy. Even the most vaunted cis man, I suppose. But there can be a comparison of power, and this is why we discuss it rather than throw up our hands.
Thank you for reading, I think this is the last I'm going to write about RGU for a while, though there's quite a bit I want to say about Utena and Anthy's relationship. So someday, I'll get around to more! And a perennial thank you to @empty-movement for the high quality archival images.
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haru-dipthong · 1 month ago
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Ep 9 of my Utena fansub is out!
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しつこいのは一番嫌われるんだぜ、先輩
Stubborn people are the most hated, Sempai. (from ohtori.nu)
Learn to take a hint, vice president. (my translation)
I thought I’d talk about this line because my translation differs quite significantly from a literal translation. The ohtori scripts’ translation shown above attempts to translate the line more literally, and I think suffers greatly for it.
Let’s break down the line: しつこい is an adjective that’s used to describe people who won’t take no for an answer; connecting it to the particles のは make it describe an implicit (but missing) noun - that noun being “people”. The ohtori script chooses to translate it as “stubborn”, but I can’t help but feel this doesn’t capture the implications that しつこい has about harrassment. In fact, I couldn’t think of a good English adjective at all, which made me start thinking about alternative ways of translating the line.
Then Utena says 一番嫌われる. This means “are hated the most”. On top of the inadequate translation of しつこい, a direct translation of this creates an unnatural sounding turn of phrase. While attempting to rephrase it in a way that sounded okay, I realised I was better off trying to retranslate the line as a whole.
My translation’s number one goal was to preserve Utena’s passive aggressive suggestion that Saionji is harrassing Anthy. I think that’s the most important thing the audience should have been taking away from the Japanese, so it should be what they take away from my translation as well. “Learn to take a hint” doesn’t explicitly say that “if you keep bothering someone after they tell you No, they'll just hate you more”, but it does heavily imply it, which I think is sufficient.
The final thing I want to say about this line is how I translated “senpai”. Previously I’ve translated it as the character’s name, but here I translated it as “vice president” instead of “Saionji”. This is because I think it’s important to preserve the fact that Utena is standing up to someone with more power than them. There was also reference to Touga being the president in a line just 1.5 minutes prior, so it reinforces some of the power dynamics between those two as well.
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君の王子様っていうのは…俺みたいなやつじゃなかったか?
Your prince was just like me, wasn’t he?
I struggled a lot with this line. Touga either truly believes he is Utena’s prince based on his memory of the church, or he doesn’t know for sure but he’s trying to manipulate them into liking him anyway. Either way, he’s not just posturing to Utena and making himself out to be a prince here… he’s making himself out to be THE prince. He’s strongly suggesting that he’s the one from her memory. It was tough to find a snappy English translation that had the same strong suggestion while still staying implicit. I originally had “I remind you of your prince, don’t I?” but decided that it wasn’t a strong enough implication, and spent another long while trying out synonyms and rewording things until I came up with the translation I settled on: “Your prince was just like me, wasn’t he?”
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やつはいつも俺より先に、俺の知らない世界に行く
He was always one step ahead of me, into a strange world I didn’t know.
I don’t have much to say about the translation itself for this line (it’s a pretty straightforward direct translation), but my god this line gives me chills. I think it may be a metaphor for puberty and “maturity”. I put maturity in quotes because when it comes to these two characters, I think they both see maturity as how much of a patriarchal man you are.
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Utena: 生きてるなんて、気持ち悪いよね。 Touga: そう? Utena: うん、気持ち悪いよ。どうせ死んじゃうのに、どうしてみんな生きてるんだろう?なんで今日までそのことを気づかなかったんだろう?永遠の物なんてあるわけないのにね。 Saionji: 永遠の物?
(below translation is from ohtori.nu)
Utena: Being alive is kind of sickening. Touga: I see… Utena: It's sickening... Why does everyone go on living knowing they'll end up dying anyway? I wonder why I never realized that until today. Eternity couldn't possibly exist, could it? Saionji: Eternity?
(below translation is my own)
Utena: Living feels wrong. Touga: Really? Utena: Yeah. It feels wrong. Everyone dies in the end. Why do they bother living? Why didn’t I realise before today? Nothing in this world lasts forever. Saionji: Nothing lasts forever?
As I’ve discussed previously, I decided early on that I would not be translating 永遠 directly as “Eternity” every time it appears. I think the theme of not wanting things to change is strong enough throughout the show that it doesn’t need to be carried by a recurring word. I’m translating it the way that flows best each time.
Utena’s bolded line literally means “permanent/eternal things don’t exist” or “there’s no such thing as something permanent/eternal” (little side note, this uses the same Japanese grammar as Juri’s “there’s no such thing as miracles”). This was actually a very easy translation. The first time I watched it, almost without thinking, I translated it as “Nothing in this world lasts forever” in my head. I think it flows super well, it works as dialogue from a small child, and captures the sadness of Utena’s loss perfectly.
However, the line does contain the words 永遠の物 (often translated as “something eternal”) and I can see how some might argue for translating this more directly, since the same phrase is used by many other characters to describe what lies inside the floating castle. I just don’t think that the upsides of this (consistent phrasing) outweigh the downsides (less natural, less thematic, less poignant). If little baby Utena suddenly starts talking about capital E Eternity, it makes her seem almost like she's privy to more of the weird lore than she actually is. It makes much more sense for her to use a phrase that a child might genuinely use if their parents had died.
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As always, thanks to @dontbe-lasanya for their fantastic editing (and words of encouragement)!
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