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sirenpearldust · 7 months ago

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Pearl - Part two

series masterlist ⋆ part one ⋆ part three

Pair: Eris x Reader

Word count: 2.599

Warnings: mentions of cheating, fertility issues, insecure thoughts

As months slipped by without conception, your mind wandered to the idea of a baby. You found yourself daydreaming about your future baby, wondering if they would inherit your traits or resemble Eris.

Maybe your future child would be a perfect blend of both of you, or a mirror image of Eris with his luscious locks, mischievous amber eyes accented by long, dark lashes, and his straight nose.

You hoped your child would resemble your wonderful husband, with his charming laugh, his thoughtful frown, and all the beauty he possessed.

As you stood before the mirror, you gazed at your belly, imagining it swollen with pregnancy.

Your mind wandered to your child laughing, giggling, and cooing with joy, happiness radiating from their bright eyes.

You felt stressed as numerous people, especially Beron, exerted pressure on you. However, Eris remained your source of comfort, always sweet and wiping your tears, soothing you whenever the healer delivered the disappointing news of another unsuccessful conception.

Eris concealed his relief upon learning of the unsuccessful attempt, careful not to show you his true emotions. Despite this, his desire to fulfill your every wish remained strong, understanding that the timing had to be right for both you and your future heir's safety.

He saw you trying everything—from taking long walks with his mother to eating healthier, experimenting with various fertility teas, and praying.

Despite trying everything, nothing seemed to help. He witnessed your tears and mourning, understanding your sense of shame for not fulfilling what you saw as your only duty.

Eris, feeling responsible for your anguish, was ashamed, as he was at fault making you feel this way.

To help you relax and ease the strain on your body, Beron ordered that you be sent to your parents' house. The Lady of Autumn spoke with Beron, suggesting that a vacation could alleviate your stress and potentially increase your chances of conceiving.

• •

Being at your parents' house proved to be truly relaxing. The familiar surroundings provided comfort, surrounded by your loved ones. You spent time chatting with your sisters and reconnecting with friends you hadn't seen in a while.

Enjoying tea and playing cards together, the conversations and laughter helped you forget all of your worries.

In your childhood home, you were surrounded by laughter and joy, you felt whole and content.

It was a stark contrast to the tension and loneliness you experienced in the forest house, where rivalry, scheming, and jealousy were ever-present.

There, in the forest house, you always felt on edge, but here, in the comforting embrace of your childhood home, the atmosphere was vibrant and carefree.

The air was filled with the joyful laughter of children, and the warmth of your friends' companion enveloped you, easing away any lingering worries you had.

You couldn't help but wish for your child to grow up in such an environment. Perhaps not falling pregnant right now wasn't the worst outcome after all, you sadly mused.

Today, the weather was warm, carrying the scent of the black tea your mother brewed and the cherry cake your sister baked earlier.

Laughter echoed through the garden where you sat, accompanied by the sweet singing of the birds.

The sun shone just right, casting a gentle glow, and overall, the atmosphere was calm and serene.

The atmosphere was abruptly disturbed by your friend's gasp as she remembered something important.

"Oh my, I almost forgot to tell you what happened to Cassandra, you all remember her, right?" she exclaimed, her shock evident as she jumped in her seat.

"Her husband had been cheating on her, and despite her attempts to have a second child with him, he remained loyal to his mistress.

To prevent any illegitimate children with her, he resorted to using a tonic, it hindered any chance of pregnancy. Apparently it is also illegal to use.

Cassandra's father found out, killed the mistress and punished her husband by law."

"I don't know what happened exactly, but Charles now has a scar across his face," another friend chimed in.

"And lately, he's been sticking close to Cassandra when they are at gatherings. Apparently the punishment he faced was only halted because she intervened and saved him from her father. Since then, he's been keeping in line."

"That was well deserved," your mother chimed in, sipping on her tea with a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

As you listened, doubts began to creep into your mind.

Maybe someone had tampered with your tea. However, your handmaids assured you that they hadn't seen anyone interfere with your food or beverages.

Every step of the preparation process, from the ingredients to the serving, had been strictly monitored.

Despite the numerous intimate sessions with Eris each day, it seemed impossible that there could be an issue with fertility.

However, hearing the conversation about Cassandra's situation sparked a troubling thought: what if the problem lay with Eris? Could he be infertile?

The notion of him using a tonic seemed absurd, and the thought of him resorting to such measures was too cruel to contemplate.

He had wiped away your tears and shielded you from harm, from the rumours, the nasty glances directed at you.

You couldn’t entertain such a devastating possibility—betrayal from him would be unimaginable.

He talked to you about the names he had chosen and the colors he envisioned for the baby's room. Every time you talked about your future child he was happy, excited to help choosing the clothes and how he would play with him or her. He didn’t care if it was a girl or a boy.

You both had laid in bed one night, when he confessed his hope that the child would resemble you. He had held you close, your fingers were intertwined, his head on your chest, he wished that your child would inherit your eyes and your smile.

He wouldn’t cheat on you, no he wouldn’t. Not Eris, never him, right?

You obviously would never openly accuse Eris of such a horrendous act or him using the tonic.

Accusing the heir could result in dire consequences, you would be risking your life and insulting the Vanserra family to which you still didn't fully belong to.

You understood that full acceptance into the family would only come with the birth of his heir.

For now, you felt more like a placeholder, knowing that if nothing worked, you could easily be replaced by a new wife.

• •

The evening neared its end and your friends departed, your family prepared for bed.

Quietly, you made your way to your father's office, seeking help to calm your nerves before you also joined dreamland.

In the cold hallway leading to his office, you closed the window, the chill dissipating.

Taking a moment to glance at your reflection, you noticed your hair cascading loosely around your shoulders, and your nightgown, a deep red with golden accents, gave you a regal air.

Compared to a week ago, you looked healthier, your cheeks now filled out.

Gazing past your reflection, you turned your attention to the sky, silently praying and hoping that your father held the answers you needed.

Approaching the grand oak door adorned with golden leaves, you knocked twice.

"Come in," your father's voice called from within.

Upon entering, you found him engrossed in his papers, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. The office carried the aroma of black coffee and biscuits.

Closing the door behind you, you stood before him, clearing your throat to gain his attention.

"Father, have you heard about what happened to Cassandra?" you inquired.

He rubbed his face in frustration before replying angrily, " Good evening to you too. Yes, but I prefer not to indulge in gossip or spread it myself. Why do you ask?"

"It's not about the gossip itself, but about the tonic," you clarified.

His eyes widened in surprise as you quickly added, "Don't worry, I'm not asking to brew it myself. I'm just curious why it's outlawed and what it consists of."

Reassured, he sighed and admitted, "There is a book in the library somewhere. I forgot the title of it." With a smile, you bid him goodnight and wished him a restful sleep. "Goodnight. Sleep well," he replied before you left.

As you walked towards the library, a peculiar sensation stirred in your belly, akin to butterflies fluttering about. Nervousness and a certain cold crept over you, you had a sudden urge to relieve yourself.

As you walked into the library, you skimmed through the books, spending about two hours in the healing section.

Along the search for the specific book, you stumbled upon some intriguing ones that you planned to read later.

Eventually, you found a small black book titled "Outlawed." Within its pages, you discovered a chapter detailing the forbidden tonic.

It described how the tonic could hinder any pregnancy without causing infertility, with a minty scent and a taste like honey.

You stopped breathing, the realization hitting you like a tidal wave.

Eris used to drink a similar concoction in his office every morning—minty and tasting just like honey, just as described in the book.

You remembered how he once swiftly took the drink out of your hand after you had a sip, warning that it wouldn't be safe for a woman.

At the time, you hadn't thought much of it. But now, everything pointed to your husband being the one who used the forbidden tonic. Tears streamed down your face as you realized his betrayal.

You sobbed, as your mind raced through the events of the past few months.

You remembered how Eris had taken care of you, reassuring you that you weren't at fault for the failed conceptions. You went through every moment you had with him, his reaction, how he didn't mourn.

Now, you saw the deception clearly, realizing what a fool you had been to fall for his lies.

He had truly lived up to his name—the cruel prince of autumn.

You never anticipated that you would become a pawn in his schemes.

Questions swirled in your mind. Did he, like Charles, have another woman by his side?

Was he in love with someone else?

Jealousy gnawed at you. Why couldn't he confide in you? After all, you were friends before you were married.

Feelings of stupidity washed over you. Why did you even care now? He had lied to you, and he was probably involved with another woman. There wouldn't be any other reason to use the cursed tonic, right.

Why? Why? Why?

Why would he do it?

• •

You cried the whole night, your eyes swollen and bloodshot red by morning.

Your back ached from falling asleep in the library, and you felt chilled to the bone. Your heart raced with anxiety as you glamoured yourself to avoid questions from your family.

As you dressed and looked into the mirror, doubt crept in.

Were you truly beautiful and put together, or were you actually ugly? Worries plagued your mind—perhaps you were too clingy, or maybe you simply weren't his type.

Did he even find you attractive at all?

You forced a smile as you gazed at your reflection, but your eyes appeared lifeless, devoid of their usual sparkle. No amount of glamouring could mask the emptiness within. Tears welled up, but you quickly wiped them away.

With a frustrated huff, you adjusted your clothing, trying to compose yourself. Taking a deep breath, you headed downstairs.

The tearful goodbyes were exchanged as you hugged everyone farewell.

Standing outside the manor, you waved goodbye to your family before winnowing away.

• •

You arrived in your room after being attended to by the maids, your personal attendants taking charge of your bag.

Finding yourself alone, Eris was nowhere to be found, but he had left flowers on the vanity along with a letter.

Opening it, you read his words:

Hello, Beautiful.

I hope you enjoyed your time with your family. I have missed you dearly I hope you have missed me too.

It was quite lonely without you. I’m blessed to have you. Without you I am not complete nor at peace.

I promise to give you the life you've always wanted and to provide for you. I'll stand by you through thick and thin 'till death do us part. So don’t ever worry about anything else.

Sadly we will need to join dinner today as my Father has invited us.

Please tell me everything you experienced, what you’ve baked, eaten, played and read.

I also have planned a surprise for you (;

Yours truly, Eris.

You crumpled the letter in your hand, before burning it with a flicker of magic. It would have been sweet if you hadn’t known him to be a liar.

Erecting a barrier around the room to ensure privacy, you screamed and cried out your frustration until your throat grew hoarse and your eyes were dry. Once you stopped, you undressed yourself, feeling the need to wash away the disgust you felt from letting him touch you. A soothing bath would probably help.

• •

Out of the bath, you called for Erica and Grace. Seated at the vanity, Erica dried your hair while Grace selected jewelry for you, presenting it. Today, you decided on wearing a mauve dress, as you were in no mood for vibrant colors like red or orange. Frankly, orange made you look terrible, and you weren't in the mood to deal with that today.

They both appeared nervous, avoiding your gaze as you smiled at them. Sensing their unease, you asked, "What's wrong, girls?"

"Nothing, my lady," Erica replied, but before Grace could answer, you noticed her hesitation.

"We don't want to upset you before dinner," Grace added, her voice faltering.

Your smile faltered as well, a nervous feeling creeping over you.

Your heart began to beat faster as you sensed that something was amiss.

"I would rather know than be kept in the dark," you insisted, turning towards them.

They exchanged a hesitant glance before Erica spoke up quietly, "We have seen the prince meeting with a woman on the days your ladyship was away."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you forced a tight smile and urged them to continue. "Go on," you said, encouraging them.

"The woman doesn’t work here, and we tried to find out more about her, but we’ve found nothing," Erica explained.

"Don’t worry, she's not pretty. You are prettier than her," Grace added quickly.

You couldn't help but chuckle at her remark.

"She's charming enough to keep my husband occupied," you said wryly, a hint of bitterness in your tone.

"Tell me everything you know," you demanded, your voice steady despite the rage burning within you.

"She's a blonde and quite tall, with red eyes," Erica began, and Grace nodded in agreement.

"They also seem to be close. Every time we saw them, they were closely huddled together," Erica continued.

"They would whisper, but we didn't see them being intimate or kiss. They mostly met in the forest or inside the stables," Grace added, her voice tinged with concern.

Meeting a woman in secret usually hinted at an affair behind one's wife's back.

"Alright, please keep an eye on them, but don't put yourselves in danger. If Eris finds out, tell him that I, as his wife, had ordered you two to keep an eye on him. If he asks why, tell him he should confront me, as it is our business," you instructed firmly. Both Erica and Grace nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.

You stood up, inhaling deeply to steady yourself, and forced a smile at them.

At least now you knew the truth: he had used the tonic, used you for pleasure, lied, cheated, and deceived you. The realization made you feel sick to your stomach. You wanted to take a bath again and scrub your skin.

You knew you had to get out of this situation, whether dead or alive, though preferably alive. Perhaps you could even stage your own death to escape his grasp once and for all.

Main Taglist: @bubybubsters

Pearl - Taglist: @bubybubsters @favsrachz @fxckmiup @st4r-girl-official @starriestarlight @adharanotfound @mybestfriendmademe @se7enteen--black-blog @anainkandpaper @bunnyredgirl @loneliestluvr @justanotherlostreader

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her-satanic-wiles · 17 days ago

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Kinktober Day 28 - Uniform

Brother Imperator x Reader

Copia got his promotion to head of the clergy, and with it a new uniform. And you couldn’t keep your hands off him.

Masterlist ⛧ Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 5.1k.

Reading Time: 21 min.

Warnings: creampie, PIV sex, public sex, thigh riding, vaginal sex, uniform kink, unprotected sex

Taglist: @akayuki56 @alien-the-ghost @amazing-bobinsky @angellayercake @anonymous-appreciation @babydestinyinfluencer @bitchywitchygardener @blossomsea @call-me-little-sunshine84 @copiaspet622 @copiasslut @cosmixxdust @da-rulah @dolceterzo @dopey-fandom-girl @faithisyours @ghoulishxdelights @hauntedharmonic-ghoulishhaunter @high-above-the-city @howlingco @inkstainedrat @kaijukimchi @kenken-the-shoggoth @ledger-kaos @magopi @megachaoticstupid @meliza1001 @miss-leto @mommy-dust @neganwifey25-blog @piaart @saintbowie @shycardinale @sister-of-sin-claudia @sisterof-sin @sodoswitchimage @the-did-i-ask @xiyingly @zombiesnips-blog

🔞 MDNI 🔞

The moment your eyes met his, you knew you were in trouble. For the first time in ages, he’d stripped back the elaborate paints, leaving only the faintest hint of kohl around his eyes, allowing every distinguished line and angle of his face to shine through. His new look was a vision—his smart uniform a departure from the traditional Papal robes, but no less commanding. The suit was a sleek, modern twist on his usual regalia: rich black fabric that hugged his form perfectly, every seam tailored to emphasize his broad shoulders and lean frame. A single, dark blazer sat unbuttoned and fell neatly at the waist, held together by two ruby pins that caught the light like blood-red flames. From them both, a diamond-studded grucifix dangled just over his upper abdomen, the glittering charm drawing your gaze with a dangerous allure. His look was seductive yet regal, an intimidating blend of elegance and dark charm. You could hardly breathe as he approached, each step deliberate, with a knowing glint in his eye that told you he was fully aware of the effect he had on you.

He stepped forward, arms slowly outstretched, his hands still gloved in that familiar, supple leather. The movement itself was an invitation—a silent command to take him in, to fully appreciate the figure standing before you. He said nothing, but the slight tilt of his head and a quiet, almost shy hum conveyed, “This is the new me.” And the transformation was powerful. Gone was the ornate guise of Papa; here stood Frater Copia Imperator, every inch of him exuding authority and confidence, as if the Ministry itself had reshaped to match his presence. The old robes had held him back, binding him to tradition, but this—this new look—carried the weight of true dominion. His domain, his rules, and he seemed to bask in it, his gaze dark and intent, as though savoring the scope of his control.

This wasn’t just Copia; it was Copia unleashed, finally embracing his true place. Like Lucifer reigning over Hell, he was perfectly in his element, ready to rule with an intensity that sent a thrill through your core.

You, however, were too thrilled about his new uniform to even consider the consequences of this promotion. You just wanted that chain dangling in your face as he -

“I don’t know who the new Papa is yet,” Copia told you, pulling you out of your horny musings. “Apparently he will be arriving soon, but I don’t know.”

Copia’s words pulled you out of your daze, but only for a moment. That glint in his eye, the way his fingers traced the edge of the ruby pin on his blazer—it stirred something deeper. You tried to refocus, to keep your thoughts on his words instead of the sinful path your mind had wandered down. But when he shifted, the delicate grucifix on its diamond-studded chain swayed, catching the light and drawing your gaze right back to it, and him.

“Hmm,” he murmured, watching you closely, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. “Seems like I’ve already lost you.” He stepped in closer, his gloved hand reaching out to cup your chin, bringing your gaze up to meet his. His thumb traced a slow circle along your jaw, the leather sending a shiver through you. “Were you even listening to me, tesoro?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words tangled as he leaned in, the chain now dangling just above your lips. He lowered himself even closer, enough that his breath warmed your skin. “Distracted, hm?” he whispered, voice as smooth and dark as velvet. “Or is it something else you’re interested in?”

With an amused tilt of his head, he straightened just slightly, but his grip on your chin remained firm. The chain hovered enticingly between you both, and the glint of the rubies seemed to cast a soft, scarlet hue over his eyes. “What were you thinking about just now?” he teased, his voice low, drawing out the words with a lazy, knowing tone.

Your heart raced as you felt yourself flush under his gaze. He let his gloved thumb slip down, tracing your lower lip, his smile deepening as you trembled under his touch.

The restraint you’d been trying so hard to keep shattered in an instant. Words wouldn’t cut it now; only action would. Before he could utter another teasing word, you launched yourself at him, fingers curling into the collar of his blazer as you pressed your body flush against his. He barely had time to gasp, his eyes widening before they darkened with a raw hunger of his own.

The chain swung between you, grazing against your chest as you pressed him against the wall, your lips crashing into his with all the ferocity of pent-up desire. He gave a low, muffled moan, hands moving to grip your waist, steadying himself as you pinned him there. You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your gaze fierce and unwavering.

“Oh,” he breathed, voice rough and laced with amusement. “Not even going to tell me what you want first? Just taking it, eh?” His smirk was devilish, eyes hooded as he leaned forward, lips brushing your jawline. “As bold as ever, tesoro.”

Your fingers slid down, finding the clasp of his belt, your intentions laid bare in the determined way you worked it open. He sucked in a sharp breath, his gloved hands sliding up your sides, encouraging you, grounding himself in the pressure of your touch.

“Here?” he murmured, glancing around the empty corridor but not looking the least bit reluctant. “Right here in the open, where anyone could see?” His voice dripped with exhilaration at the idea. The thrill in his eyes was unmistakable as he tugged you even closer, his hands roving possessively over your body.

“Oh, let them,” you whispered, pressing a fierce kiss to his throat as his head fell back. “I refuse to wait any longer.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest at your words, and any remaining control he had snapped. With a rough pull, he reversed your positions, pinning you back against the wall, his body pressed firmly against yours. His gaze bore into you, pupils blown wide with desire, the gleam of his chain catching the dim light as it swung between you both. He brought a gloved hand up, tracing it down the side of your face, down your throat, finally stopping to rest on your collarbone, his fingers curling just enough to feel your pulse racing under his touch.

“You have no idea what you’ve started,” he murmured, his voice a dark promise as his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. The heat of him, the scent of his cologne mixing with the faint leather from his gloves, was intoxicating, overwhelming your senses as he kissed his way down your neck, teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you shiver.

With one swift movement, he slipped a leg between yours, pressing his thigh against you as his hands found your waist, holding you firmly against him. The friction, even through your clothing, was electric, sending shockwaves through you. He smirked against your neck, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. “Look at you,” he whispered, his tone darkly amused as he ground his thigh ever so slightly, “already unraveling for me, and I’ve barely even started.”

You tightened your grip on his blazer, feeling your resolve slipping away completely. “Then don’t stop,” you whispered, daring him, your voice rough with need.

He chuckled, his lips curving against your skin. “Oh, I won’t.” His voice dropped lower, every word a promise. “But I’m going to take my time with you, right here. Let every inch of this place echo with the sounds of us.” His fingers found the hem of your shirt, slipping underneath to brush against your bare skin, igniting every nerve with his touch.

As his mouth claimed yours once more, his kiss was slower, more intense, his movements deliberate as if he wanted to make you feel every second of it. His gloved hand moved to your chest, thumb brushing over your skin, drawing a gasp from your lips that he swallowed eagerly. The thrill of the forbidden, the possibility of being caught, only seemed to drive him further, his kiss growing deeper, more insistent, as his hands roamed possessively over you, leaving no inch of you untouched.

And as he pulled back just enough to lock eyes with you, a wicked gleam in his gaze, he leaned in close and whispered, “By the time I’m done, tesoro, everyone here will know exactly who you belong to.”

Your movements grew more desperate, grinding against his thigh as his hands roamed your body, each touch and squeeze lighting you up in ways you hadn’t felt in so long. He held you firmly, almost possessively, his fingers digging into your hips to guide your movements, pressing you harder against him with each roll of your body. His breathing grew heavier, his lips never far from your skin, leaving trails of hot, lingering kisses down your neck.

His gloved hand slid lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your clothes, his fingers brushing over your skin with a tantalizing slowness that made you shudder. He paused there, his mouth close to your ear as he murmured, “Look at you, so eager for me.” His voice was low, laced with a dark amusement that sent a thrill through you, making you push against him harder, needing the friction, needing him.

Copia chuckled, dark and deep, his thigh pressing up with just the right pressure, making you gasp. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” His hand traced back up, gliding over your chest, fingers grazing the sensitive spots he knew so well, making your head spin. “You want more?” he asked, though he already knew the answer, his eyes gleaming with a devilish satisfaction as he watched your reaction.

“Please…” you breathed, barely able to form words under his touch.

He smirked, his thumb brushing across your cheek in a mockingly tender gesture. “That’s it,” he purred. “I want to hear you beg for it, right here. Let everyone know what you need from me.”

The sheer thrill of his demand had you trembling against him, and as his thigh pressed harder, his fingers digging into your skin, you couldn’t hold back anymore. You moaned softly, moving against him with wild abandon, feeling him take in every sound, every shiver as his mouth claimed yours again, consuming you in a searing, possessive kiss that left you aching for more.

The pressure built until it was overwhelming, each roll of your hips pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His thigh pressed firmly against you, his hand gripping your waist with just enough force to ground you yet keep you spiraling. His mouth was at your neck, lips moving hot and slow, and you felt yourself unraveling, unable to hold back any longer.

And then it happened—a rush of pleasure crashing over you, your body trembling as you came right there, held in place by his hands and the unrelenting press of his thigh. The intensity left you breathless, your fingers clutching his blazer, as though clinging to him was the only thing keeping you steady.

He groaned softly as he felt you shudder against him, his gaze darkening with satisfaction. “There we go,” he murmured, his tone rich with pride and something even deeper, a possessive glint in his eye. “Just like that, tesoro.”

His hand stroked your back in lazy, soothing circles as you caught your breath, barely able to comprehend what you’d just done, right there in the middle of the corridor. But he didn’t look the least bit surprised—in fact, he seemed thrilled, his gaze roving over you with a smug sense of accomplishment.

Before you could say a word, he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “Now, shall we continue somewhere more… private? I’m far from finished with you.”

“I refuse to wait any longer,” you panted. “Please just fuck me, Copia.”

A flash of something dark and eager crossed his face, and before you could even draw another breath, he spun you around, pressing your back against the wall with a controlled urgency that made your pulse quicken. His fingers hooked into the gusset of your panties, pulling them aside with a rough, unhesitating motion, his other hand already freeing himself from his trousers.

The moment was electric, charged with a tension that had been building too long. He didn’t waste another second, aligning himself and pressing into you in one smooth, deep thrust that stole the breath from your lungs. The sensation was overwhelming, his heat and weight pressing you firmly into the wall, grounding you while simultaneously making you feel as if you might float away. His grip on your hips was strong, possessive, his fingers digging in just enough to leave you tingling.

He held himself there for a heartbeat, his forehead pressing to your shoulder, a guttural groan escaping his lips as he felt you wrapped around him. Then, his grip tightened, and he began to move, his thrusts slow at first, deliberate, each one sinking in deeply, pulling another soft, breathy moan from you.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a low growl, words punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusts. “So needy, couldn’t wait another second… I love it when you’re this desperate for me.”

His pace quickened, his hands sliding up your waist, holding you in place as he took what you’d so eagerly asked for, his hips snapping forward with a building intensity. Each thrust seemed to drive him deeper, his control slipping as he gave in to the pleasure, his breaths ragged in your ear as he pushed you toward that blissful edge once more.

His movements became more urgent, each thrust driving you harder against the wall, the sound of your bodies meeting echoing through the corridor. You could feel every inch of him inside you, stretching and filling you, and it only heightened your desire, pushing you closer to the brink without letting you fall over.

“Copia…” you gasped, the sound of his name falling from your lips like a prayer. You were lost in a haze of sensation, your body responding eagerly to every thrust, every shudder that ran through you as he rocked into you. He felt impossibly good, and the way he held you—his grip possessive yet tender—made you ache for more.

His lips found their way to your neck, hot against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses that ignited every nerve ending. “That’s right, tesoro,” he murmured, his breath warm against you, sending shivers down your spine. “Let me hear you. Let me know how much you want this.”

You moaned softly, pushing back against him instinctively, seeking more friction, more of that delicious pressure building within you. He chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying your eagerness, and he quickened his pace just slightly, teasing you with the promise of more without granting you release.

“You want it harder?” he taunted, his voice low and dripping with lust. “You’ll have to earn it. Show me how badly you need it.”

With that, he changed his angle, hitting that sweet spot inside you that made your head spin. The sensation was electric, and you gasped, feeling the heat pool low in your belly, but he was relentless, holding you right there on the precipice, teasing you with his control. Each thrust was deep and deliberate, building tension but denying you the sweet release you craved.

“Sathanas, you’re beautiful like this,” he breathed, his eyes dark with desire, locking onto yours as he continued to push you further into bliss. “So responsive… so fucking perfect.”

You writhed against him, desperate and aching, needing more, but he held you firmly in place, a wicked grin on his lips as he relished in your frustration, taking his time to savour every moment.

With a swift, commanding motion, he pulled out, leaving you breathless and wanting. The abruptness of it sent a shiver through you, a mix of anticipation and urgency swelling in your chest. “Get down,” he ordered, his voice low and firm, eyes darkened with desire.

You didn’t hesitate, the need to obey overriding any hesitation. You sank down onto the cool corridor floor, the surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body. As you lay back, your heart raced, both from the thrill of his command and the way his gaze devoured you, hungry and insatiable.

Copia moved over you, his body looming above like a dark, predatory silhouette. He positioned himself between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread you open for him, the intensity of his stare sending jolts of excitement through you. “I want to see you,” he growled, his voice dripping with lust as he lined himself up once more.

With a sharp thrust, he entered you again, deeper this time, and you gasped as he filled you completely. The weight of him pressed you into the floor, his hips snapping forward with a force that made the chain hanging from his neck swing and sway tantalizingly in front of your face, glimmering in the dim light.

“Look at me,” he commanded, and you did, locking eyes with him as he drove into you, his expression a mix of pleasure and authority. The force of his movements sent ripples of pleasure coursing through you, his body perfectly in sync with yours, creating a heady rhythm that left you gasping and wanting more.

“You’re mine,” he said, punctuating each word with a thrust, the intensity in his voice matched only by the way he filled you. The chain danced tantalizingly close, swaying with every forceful movement, a physical manifestation of his power and control. You could hardly think, lost in the delicious friction and the way he possessed you, your body responding to every demanding push, every glorious pull.

Each powerful thrust brought the chain closer, its cool metal brushing against your cheek and lips, a reminder of the power he wielded over you. The sensation was maddening, and you could hardly focus on anything else—the rhythm of his hips, the way he moved inside you, the intoxicating sight of him looming over you, chain swinging with every thrust, an emblem of his dominance.

As he continued to thrust into you, the chain swinging tantalizingly closer, you felt an overwhelming urge to taste him, to take in every part of him that you could. Your gaze fixed on the diamond grucifix dangling from his neck, the cool metal glimmering in the low light, and a wicked idea sparked in your mind.

With a quick movement, you reached up, grabbing the chain and pulling it closer to your mouth. You wrapped your lips around the grucifix, sucking on it as if it were his cock, the sharp, metallic taste mingling with the heat radiating off your body. It felt deliciously forbidden, a bold display of your need for him, and you could see the surprise flicker in his eyes, quickly replaced by something darker—hunger.

Copia’s thrusts stuttered for a moment, the sight of you eagerly sucking on the chain driving him wild. “Is that what you want, tesoro?” he growled, his voice low and gravelly, as he regained his rhythm. “You want to worship me like this?”

You nodded, still sucking on the grucifix, letting your tongue glide over the smooth surface, teasing it as you would with his cock. The action sent a thrill through him, and he picked up the pace, his thrusts growing more forceful, each movement pushing the grucifix deeper into your mouth, forcing you to take in more of the chain, feeling it cold against your lips.

The sensation was intoxicating, and the combination of his deep thrusts and the way you worshipped the grucifix left you breathless. You could feel the tension coiling within you, the line between pleasure and desperation blurring as you surrendered completely to the moment.

Copia’s breath grew ragged, each thrust driving him closer to his own climax. “That’s it, just like that,” he urged, his voice a mix of praise and urgency, each word sending heat coursing through you. “You’re perfect for this—such a good little pet.”

As he thrust deeper, you felt an insatiable urge rising within you, an overwhelming desire to amplify the pleasure coursing through your body. With your lips still wrapped around the grucifix, you let out a low, muffled moan that reverberated against the cool metal. The sound sent shivers of pleasure racing through you, echoing in the dimly lit corridor, as you began to touch yourself.

Your fingers moved eagerly between your legs, seeking out that sweet spot that had been yearning for attention. The sensation of your own fingers dancing over your sensitive skin, combined with the rhythmic pounding of his hips, sent shockwaves of ecstasy through you. You could feel every pulse of his thrusts inside you, each one making your fingers tingle with excitement as you rubbed your clit with a fervor that matched the intensity of the moment.

Copia’s gaze was fixated on you, his dark eyes blazing with hunger as he watched you pleasure yourself while he drove into you. “Look at you,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “So fucking desperate for it. Don’t stop, tesoro. Let me hear you.”

You obeyed, your moans spilling out around the grucifix as you continued to suck on it, the metal a reminder of his dominance. Each thrust met your fingers moving with urgency, and you could feel the pressure building, both inside and outside, intertwining in a way that threatened to consume you whole.

“Good girl,” he praised, his pace becoming even more erratic, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the corridor. “You’re going to make me lose control, you know that? I want you to come for me while I’m buried deep inside you.”

The heat pooling low in your belly swelled, and you felt your body responding to his words, an electric thrill coursing through your veins. You moaned louder around the grucifix, the combination of your own touch, his powerful thrusts, and the deliciously forbidden act of sucking on the chain pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

With every movement, you lost yourself further in the blissful haze of pleasure, the world narrowing down to just the two of you—his thrusts, your moans, the grucifix swinging gently in the air, and the desperate need to feel him fill you completely as you chased that sweet release.

The pressure inside you reached a crescendo, building to an almost unbearable peak as you continued to work your fingers frantically, the urgency of your movements intensifying. You could feel every thrust from Copia, each one driving you closer to that edge, and the sweet sound of your moans around the grucifix only heightened your need.

Then, as if a dam had broken, the pleasure erupted within you like a tidal wave. The orgasm washed over you, more powerful than anything you had ever experienced before, leaving you breathless and utterly consumed. Your body trembled as the waves of ecstasy surged through you, making your toes curl and your back arch off the floor. You cried out around the grucifix, the sound mingling with the raw desire in the air, echoing through the corridor as you surrendered completely to the bliss.

Copia’s grip tightened on your thighs, his thrusts becoming more frantic as he felt your body clench around him, your orgasm pulling him closer to the edge. The sensation of you coming around him was overwhelming, and he couldn’t help but thrust deeper, seeking his own release even as he reveled in the way your body reacted to him.

“Fuck, yes!” he gasped, his voice a mix of awe and lust, completely enthralled by the sight of you lost in pleasure beneath him. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come.”

As you rode the waves of your orgasm, you could feel your body pulsing around him, milking him with each spasm. The sensation heightened your pleasure even further, and the heat radiating from him added to the intoxicating mix. You let out one final, guttural moan, the sound echoing off the walls, as your body trembled in the aftermath of your release.

With each thrust, Copia felt the tension coiling tightly within him, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he watched you ride the waves of your orgasm, completely lost in ecstasy. The sight of you—your body trembling beneath him, fingers still working furiously at your clit—drove him wild, urging him closer to his own release. He could feel the tightness of your walls clenching around him, coaxing him into that sweet abyss, and it sent a jolt of pleasure through his entire body.

“Sathanas,” he groaned, his voice thick with need, the intensity of the moment washing over him. “I can’t hold on any longer.” He thrust harder, the urgency in his movements increasing, desperation fueling his every action. Each powerful push drove him deeper, bringing him closer to the edge, and he couldn’t help but lose himself in the overwhelming pleasure of it all.

As the world around him faded away, all he could focus on was you—your beauty, your moans, the way your body responded to him. “I’m coming,” he breathed, just before his release crashed over him like a tidal wave.

With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, the heat of his body merging with yours as he let go completely. He came hard, filling you with a warmth that spread through your core, the sensation of him spilling inside you pushing you back toward the edge once more. You gasped in shock and delight at the feeling, a mixture of his release and your own, amplifying the bliss that coursed through you both.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he breathed, his voice thick with satisfaction, as he rode out the waves of his climax, his body trembling as he remained anchored deep within you. The weight of him pressing down, combined with the warmth of his release, wrapped around you like a cocoon, leaving you both breathless and euphoric.

For a moment, time stood still as you lay there together, lost in the aftermath of your pleasure, the connection between you both tangible and electric. The corridor felt like your own private sanctuary, filled with the remnants of your shared ecstasy, and as you looked up into his dark, smoldering eyes, you knew this was just the beginning of what he could give you.

As Copia pulled out of you, the warmth of his body lingered in the cool corridor, leaving you both breathless and delightfully spent. He turned to lay beside you, a satisfied grin plastered across his face, the glow of post-coital bliss still evident in his eyes. The corridor felt like a world of its own, the thrill of what had just happened hanging in the air like a sultry fog.

Just as he was about to tuck himself away, a Brother of Sin strolled by, nonchalantly whistling a tune under his breath. You both froze, eyes wide, as he paused, glancing down at Copia. With an exaggerated eyebrow raise, he took in the scene before him: the disheveled state of both of you, the lingering signs of passion, and, of course, Copia’s still-exposed cock, glistening slightly in the dim light.

“Frater… Sorella,” the Brother acknowledged with a casual nod of his head, a smirk creeping across his lips. His eyes danced with amusement as he continued, “Looks like you’ve had a productive meeting, eh?”

Copia, ever the dramatic one, flushed a deep crimson, sputtering for words as he scrambled to cover himself. “I—I was just—uh, discussing… duties! Yes, very important duties!” he stammered, trying to regain some semblance of dignity.

The Brother chuckled, shaking his head as he continued walking, “Don’t let me interrupt your… practical training. Just remember, we have a reputation to uphold!” His voice trailed off, the mischievous tone lingering in the air.

Copia groaned, throwing a hand over his eyes in embarrassment, while you burst into laughter, unable to contain the joy of the moment. “Oh, this is just perfect!” you said, still giggling at the absurdity of it all. “Only us, right?”

Copia rolled onto his side, still flustered but unable to hide his own laughter. “At least I know my meetings are memorable,” he replied, a grin creeping back onto his face. “Next time, I’ll try to keep my—” he gestured vaguely at himself, “—professionalism intact.”

“Or maybe just find a more private location?” you teased, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

He chuckled, the embarrassment fading as the moment turned into yet another inside joke between you, the warmth of shared pleasure and laughter mingling together in the most delightful way.

Copia raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, is that so?” he replied, leaning on one elbow to look at you, his expression a mix of feigned outrage and amusement. “I would like to remind you that this location was your idea!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a bright sound that echoed off the corridor walls. “Well, I didn’t think we’d have an audience today!” you shot back, unable to suppress the grin on your face. “It’s not my fault that you have a penchant for the dramatic, Frater.”

“Dramatic?” he feigned shock, placing a hand over his heart. “I prefer to call it enthusiastic! Just look at how well it turned out!” He gestured around the corridor, as if the very walls would applaud his romantic choices.

With a dramatic flourish, he added, “It’s not every day you get to mix duty with a little… extracurricular activity.” He winked, his confidence returning, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.

“Extracurricular, huh? Is that what they’re calling it these days?” you quipped, nudging him playfully.

“Absolutely!” he replied, puffing out his chest in mock seriousness. “And let it be known: I am fully committed to the role of dedicated educator in our… field studies.”

“Right. I’m sure the Ministry will be thrilled to hear about your ‘educational’ methods,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Just try to keep it down next time, or we might end up with more than just curious Brothers wandering by.”

“Deal! But no promises if the curriculum gets a little… intense,” he winked, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, and you both burst into laughter once again.

Prev./Next

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missisjoker · 1 month ago

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I love me some blushing virgin!Y/N x Loving Husband!Cregan fics, but may I present you with a different dynamic?

Y/N is a bastard baby sister of Daemon and Viserys, whom Viserys marries off to a rich old merchant from Penthos and sends away at the age of 14. Your husband dies, and you have to fight tooth and nail to survive, but you make it. Then, 15 years later, a letter comes from Dragonstone asking for your help. You have zero interest in Westerosi politics, but you have a soft spot for Jace and Luke, so you book a ship and go to Dragonstone.

Rhaenyra offers you legitimacy and a good new match- you say yes to first, and absolutely no to the second (you'd rather go to Lys and become a whore than marry another obnoxious man ever again). Then she leads you to the dragon pit, and- to your absolute horror- Vermithor chooses you as his new rider.

A week ago, you were a childless, divorced, and very rich Penthosi woman, and now you're suddenly a true Targaryen on a dragon in the middle of a civil war.

Your first order of business is defying Rhaenyra’s order and sneaking out to follow Luke to Storms end because you have a tingling something might go wrong. Something does, but because or your timely arrival, Luke survives.

While the queen is still seething and musing what to do, Daemon sends you to Winterfell to negotiate with the Starks.

The good news is, Lord Stark is an honorable, rational and practical man. And one your business prowess and Essosi contacts score him more provisions than he has ever dreamed of, he declares for the Blacks and orders to gather the Northern army immediately.

The bad news is, he is handsome, and brave, and headstrong, and - to your surprise- very charming , once you get to know him better. His dry sense of humor never fails to make you laugh. And you realize, for the first time of your life, you desire- genuinely, carnally and mentally desire a man. Something you promised yourself never to suffer from.

And the worst news is, the desire is very much reciprocated.

You spend two nights with him before departing to Dragonstone. The first is what you imagined your wedding night would be- full of passion, and a bit of shyness at first, but pleasant and exhilarating beyond measure. You let him lead, you let him do things to you that bring you pleasure you have not experienced before. Lord stark is gentle, but relentless, and you’re nothing more than a withering and moaning mess in his strong hands.

The second night… you took the initiative. There was a good chance you’d never see him again, so you took your time and effort to make him feel loved, and worshipped, you kissed every scar and every freckle on his body. You kneaded and soothed his muscles until he melted in your arms. You took him in your mouth and then mounted him and stole every moan that escaped his lips.

You traced your fingers through his hair as he drifted to sleep in your arms.

The next morning, when you were saying your good byes, he told you that, should he survive the war, he will sue for your hand.

You told him kindly, that you’re not the best match for him, you’re older, and might not give him a child, and you don’t belong in the north..

“I already have a heir, and there are plenty of orphans. You own my heart and my soul, what’s left is only my hand. I would make you lady Stark, if you’d have me”.

I would , you thought to yourself and it scared you how much you wanted it.

You soared above the clouds and took course south.

To seven hells, of course I would. I want nothing else now, damn you, Stark, what have you done to me?

Vermithor roared, as if asking a question.

“It’s alright, my fearless. I just have to make sure we survive this bloody war”.

#cregan stark #cregan x you #cregan x reader #house of the dragon

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sadesluvr · 1 month ago

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CAT AND MOUSE. (VI)

Miguel O'Hara x Black Cat! F! Reader Warnings: None, just smut ;) A/N: An overdue finale! A little short but sweet. PREVIOUS CHAPTER | READ ON AO3 | SERIES MASTERLIST

Miguel couldn’t sleep.

That wasn’t anything new, but tonight he had a particular itch. In his brain, in his heart, he didn’t know – but he hadn’t found any relief in his late-night empanada, and he certainly didn’t feel like straining himself in the gym. At least not tonight.

He needed something more.

It wasn’t as if he could play around with himself anymore. You were right down the hall as you had been for the past three months, and given the nature of your relationship it was fairly likely you’d be able to scratch said itch. He just didn’t know how to breach it.

It was ironic, really. The past year had been filled with nothing but yearning and straight sexual tension, yet he couldn’t figure out how to initiate.

(It’s because of your feelings.)

“LYLA...Is she sleeping?”

“Hmmm...Who’s ‘she’?”

[Fuck] “Carajo, you know who I’m talking about.”

“Nope,” the yellow figure teased. “There’s approximately 299 ‘shes’ in the building, not including other dimensions.”

“Ay, the Black Cat! The one we saved from Otto.” Miguel huffed, pushing his dark locks from his face.

“Nah she’s not sleeping,” she grinned, responding almost instantly. “Her wounds healing pretty well if you’re trying to get a little rough.”

“Jesus, LYLA, that isn’t necessary!” he exclaimed before squaring his shoulders. It was now or never. He wasn’t going to let you slip away again. “Let her know I’m coming.”

“Copy that.”

Your eyes were wide at the glitchy sound of the door sliding open. All rooms were usually kept with a passkey, and the only people that could override were LYLA, Miguel or Jess...Perhaps even Margo (Though it wasn’t favoured). You were certain LYLA didn’t need to use a door to speak to you, and Jess was almost definitely with her hubby...meaning it was Miguel. Or one of the younger Spider-men who’d gotten Margo to override the code just so they could talk to you. For some reason, you were like an older sister to them.

You glanced up at the hunk of man that traipsed through your door. For once he was out of his costume, replaced with a black compression shirt and gym pants. It wasn’t as if it hadn’t been said before, but he was certainly pretty enough to model. Still, there was a normalcy to seeing him like this, as if you’d forgotten that underneath every suit was a regular person - they, like yourself, weren’t always superheroes.

“Miguel, I’m not doing physio at this time of night.” you said exasperatedly.

“I’m not here for that,” he said quickly, his face still solemn as ever but with a hint of playfulness in his voice. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Has my visitors pass expired already?” you joked. “I’m not one to impose. I’ll leave if you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to.”

Admittedly, that took you aback.

“Just -- Let me speak,” he began, and it occurred to you that you felt like prey as he stalked you, your heart pounding as he made the short journey to sit next to you on the bed. You watched as he mused, back hunched and ringing his fingers before he continued to speak. “I’ve been difficult, I know. It’s apparent that I – tolerate – you more than you think.”

“Is that so?” you smirked, propping yourself up on your knees as you leaned into him, pressing your chest against his bicep and back. “I’d have never thought.”

Miguel grumbled, and you could’ve sworn that his cheeks tinted slightly.

“How long have ya been holding that in?” you continued, moving your face closer to his jawline, breath tickling his skin as you spoke. It was blatant to the two of you just how quickly the roles had been switched, and for once Miguel didn’t find himself fighting against it. In fact, he rather enjoyed it.

“A while...”

“That’s good enough for me,” you purred, eyes gleaming with lust. “I promise not to hurt you, but be careful of the arm, still, tiger.”

With a swift motion you’d cupped his firm jaw in your hands, pressing your lips against his own. Miguel seemed somewhat taken aback, but responded instantly, one of his large hands finding their way to the back of your neck to gently pull you in, his prominent nose rubbing against your skin as you quite literally sucked each other's faces off. Dragging your long nails through his roots, you traced small circles on the back of his neck as you straddled him, beginning to grind yourself on his large thighs as you nipped at his lip.

“Come on...” you cooed. “I know we’ve both got a bite...”

[Oh my God] “Dios mio...You drive me crazy, bella...” he grunted, pulling back to bare his teeth, earning a sultry smile from you as he began to nibble down your neck. As much as you wished you were both in the heat of battle (and you wearing a low-cut suit), there was something far more passionate about him coming to you so vulnerably, right on his own terms. He growled as you circled your hips on his pelvis to an imaginary rhythm, of which you were all too happy to find that he caught effortlessly, you wild hair flowing in tandem. You only wore a small pair of shorts under your black t-shirt, wherein underneath lay a thong. Positive that he could feel your wetness, you ran your hands down your body and between your thighs, spreading your pussy open for Miguel to glance down and admire.

For a moment, his mind went blank, feeling like a bumbling virgin as he short-circuited trying to remember what to do. He felt the inexplicable urge to dive in, to prop you up on pillows in the regal position you deserved whilst you locked your legs around his head to coax his tongue deeper, but selfish lust had the upper hand and was telling him otherwise.

“No creo que pueda esperar más,” [I don’t think I can wait anymore] he moaned. “I need you right now.”

“Don’t worry,” you smirked. “You’ll make it up to me, got it?”

Miguel nodded before kicking his pants off, the material pooling by his ankles as he angled his erect cock towards your entrance. As expected, he was big, well over six inches with a decent girth, clean cut and dripping precum.

You usually made all your men wrap up – that would certainly be instituted in the future – but for now you wanted needed nothing more but to feel him. Every inch, every vein and every throb.

Miguel let out a deep groan as he entered you, barely having enough time to process you pushing him back on the bed. Instinctively, you pinned his hands to his sides, whining your hips and lower body up and down his cock as you topped him. Glancing down at him was a truly beautiful sight, his long lashes fluttering shut and his jaw clenching and unclenching as he succumbed to the release of tension. You couldn’t help but pity him, not just because you’d managed to pin down a 6’9, however-so many-pound man, but because you knew that it had been ages; if ever in his weird sense of a lifetime, that he’d truly felt free.

Even though you were a pro at this, you found yourself stumbling, occasionally having his cock pop out from between your slick walls. Although your ego made you feel like a failure, it drove the man wild, bucking his hips up desperately into you, filling the room with sounds of skin-on-skin. He spouted a litany of sweet nothings; some in Spanish, some in English, but it didn’t take a genius to know that he was infatuated, as you with him.

You saw him for what he was, a good man who just happened to be broken and afraid. Miguel didn’t just admire your sex, but the whole of you; the slightly neurotic woman inside.

And that was how you knew you loved eachother.

(Love was still such a strong word, but neither of you found it so difficult to swallow anymore. In this world; in your weird and crazy lifetime where there were alternative versions of someone, you didn’t get a chance to question the nature of the feeling. You took it as it was, and in your current moment it was tangible, euphoric, and deeply honest.)

FIN.

Taglist: @fries11 @honeyluvsatj @saturnknows @vancehopper1987 @youngestxhearts @valleyoftheprimadonnagirl

#florence writes!!#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #atsv x reader #atsv imagine #miguel o'hara fic

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leezlelatch · 23 days ago

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Trying to get back into writing, and I'm starting with a sort of continuing series of untitled snippets set in the same world with all the Papas. Stay tuned for more and I hope you enjoy. <3 Cardinal Copia x f!reader - intrigue, mystery, flirtation, talk of death, implied dark!copia.

You glance up from your place in the corner of the library, classical music playing through your headphones. You don’t know the piece, or who composed it, but the haunting melody that falls from the pianist’s fingers turns you introspective. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re introspective often these days. The flicker of a form just out of the corner of your eye makes you smile, but when you turn to look, there’s no one there. If there’s one thing you’ve learned since joining the Ministry, it’s that ghosts are real. And you’re never truly alone.

A few Siblings of Sin pass your table, and your eyes follow them to a few of the worn chairs that litter the library. They were red, a small golden pattern woven into the fabric, but you doubt there ever really was a prime for these pieces of furniture. To you, they’ve always been like that. Eaten away by some mite, stuffing sticking out of cushions that were either the best thing you’ve ever sat on, or a literal pain in the rear. There were many things like that in this abbey. Things, and even people, so old that you’re sure they’ve always existed just as they are, and no one was around to remember them before.

The Siblings are staring at you, and you look away with an apologetic smile, having zoned out so hard, you didn’t realize you were practically gaping at them. Having an overactive imagination can put you in all kinds of embarrassing situations, or maybe it’s ADHD. Whatever is wrong with you, you’re sure there’s some acronym that explains it. Or maybe you’re something new altogether. A silly girl with a silly mind. Not exactly a rarity.

A muffled curse interrupts your thoughts and you turn your head to look into the stacks, right into the black biretta of the Cardinal Copia. He’s bent over, picking up a book, one gloved hand holding his biretta steady. You’ve never interacted with him outside of communion, but he was kind where it mattered, but something altogether sinister when he was angry. Or so you’ve heard. Every member of the Emeritus line had a story. Some were fanatical, some downright perverted, but the sentiment was always the same. The men that ruled your lives carried something dark within them.

“How do you think they gained power?” A friend said to you one evening over dinner, the mood light.

“Because it’s patrilineal?” You responded. “His father and his father and his father, you know how it goes.”

“Do you really believe that?” They asked, suddenly serious. Serious in a way that had sent a chill up your spine.

Whether you believed any of the stories is another thing entirely, but you aren’t so naive to think that behind a pretty accent and a perfectly placed, “cara mia,” there isn’t something lurking behind their white eye. And you were staring again. And the Cardinal notices, looking back at you with an eyebrow raised, his upper lip twitching as he regards you with a sudden defensiveness.

“Eh…, may I help you, Sister?” He asks, his voice going up and slightly cracking around the question. You blink rapidly, a sort of startled noise of apology leaving you, internally berating yourself for staring at a member of the upper clergy like he’s a museum piece.

“No! Oh, Go-, Satan, no. I’m so sorry, your Eminence,” you manage, standing up from your chair as if he is a drill instructor and you need to stand to attention. The Cardinal’s expression rapidly clears, and he dips his head a little, watching you with, you believe, amusement.

“Still having trouble switching between G-O-D and Satan, hmm?” He muses, his head tilting a little to the side as he speaks. His right eye is soft, warm, and his left eye cuts like a knife. You aren’t sure which one you should be looking into.

“Did you just spell out…you know,” you say, waving your hand up, suddenly wondering if you weren’t actually allowed to say the word beyond just learning how to curse in Satan’s name instead of God’s.

“Sì, sì,” he says slowly, leaning toward you just a little bit, the grucifix at his chest catching the light from the window as it dangles. “We don’t want that son of a bitch hearing, yeah? Oh wait, that’s Jesus.”

You burst into startled laughter, and the Cardinal smiles. His teeth are crooked, and it’s one of the most charming things you’ve ever seen. He’s trying to make you comfortable, you realize, a warmth filling you as all your anxiety falls away from one bad joke. “I’m sorry for gawking,” you clarify, safe now in the Cardinal’s gaze. “I was daydreaming, and I wasn’t staring at you, but through you, so…” You trail off.

“No, no, I understand, heh,” he says, his shoulders rising at the same time he nods his head. “I, eh, I am familiar with the daydreaming, too. Also. Yeah.” His hand punctuates every word, rising and falling with the cadence of his speech, and then dropping to his side, his fingers scratching rapidly at his leg. He’s nervous. Something so sweetly human, you smile.

You offer your name, and the Cardinal glances away, his brow pinching for just a moment. It’s there and gone, an expression you can’t read, and then he glances at you, catching you in his white gaze, the pupil a pinpoint. “I know,” he says easily.

“How do you -,” you begin to ask how he knows your name, but the Cardinal interrupts you, sweeping from the shadows of the stacks. He’s suddenly quite close, leaning over to peer at your book sitting closed on the table.

“Ough,” he makes a noise, something between a hum and a word. “The Great Mortality.” He reads the title, tilting his head to pin you with a look. It’s far more knowing than you anticipate, like he’s reading you as easily as the pages of your book. He straightens. “You are interested in the plague, eh?”

“I am. The Black Death. Although it wasn’t called the Black Death, it was called the Great Mortality, see that’s a misconception,” you say, the information spilling from your lips. You shut your mouth and look at him, but he merely smiles, nodding his head for you to continue. “The plague wasn’t called that until sometime in the 17th century, from a Danish translation, I believe,” you finish.

“That is very good,” he says, tapping his fingers on the cover, his attention entirely fixed on you. “Very good. But a very morbid subject.” His eyes trace your features. “You will let your Cardinal read this when you are done.”

It doesn’t occur to you that he doesn’t pose it as a question, and you nod eagerly. “Are you interested in the subject, Cardinal?”

“It seems I am becoming more and more,” he says, his eyes never wavering from your own. “We will discuss after? A little, uh, book club. We will see what we make of the pale rider.”

You tilt your head a little in curiosity, and he follows the movement, his lips curling into another smile. “The pale rider?” You ask.

“Sì, tesoro. Death.” His smile grows, and you suddenly register the quiet. You look over your shoulder. The other Siblings are gone. It’s just the two of you, here in this corner of the library. When you turn back, you make a small noise of surprise, the Cardinal slipping past you, the very edge of his shoulder brushing against yours. “Until then,” he says, not looking back as he leaves. “Happy reading.”

#the band ghost #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #copia #the band ghost fanfiction #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #copia emeritus #papa iv #cardi c

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space-blue · 4 months ago

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Melina, Messmer and the Gloam Eyed Queen.

Disclaimer : this is not my theory. I saw it in a buried youtube comment and it rings so damn true I want you all to see it! From this guy, in this video.

OK so I was watching a lore video and disagreeing with a lot of it. Good stuff though, and the comments were fun. As I scrolled, I saw this, which blew my socks away and is definitely my personal take now! (the comment is edited for readability)

Melina is a daughter to Marika and Radagon. This is confirmed as she’s represented by a butterfly. The butterflies we can find in game all represent the children of Marika and Radagon.

Nascent butterfly represents Miquella, Aeonian butterfly represents Malenia, Smouldering butterfly represents Melina. And then in the dlc we’re introduced to Messmer and Black Pyreflies.

I like to believe that the children of Marika and Radagon come in twos. First came the twins Melina and Messmer, and then came Miquella and Malenia. The later share a contrasting theme, Miquella is cursed with eternal youth while Malenia is cursed with Scarlet Rot which caused her to rapidly decay, symbolizing old age and death.

And then we have Melina and Messmer who both share the theme of fire. Messmer has his own flame, a flame which is notably different from any other pyromancy in the game, his fire is more red and more aggressive. He is able to share his fire with his followers, his fire knights who cast incantations of Messmer’s flame. Then when we kill Messmer, we obtain his flame as a physical item.

Now Melina’s flame was black flame, and in contrast to Messmer’s flame which could burn away all physical things, Melina’s black flame could burn metaphysical things (being burned by black flame does hp damage because it’s burning your very soul) and just like Messmer, Melina was able to pass on her black flame power to her own ‘knights’ the Godskins.

And so Messmer went on to use his flame to burn the enemies his mother pointed him at, where as Melina desired to burn the things that she could, she wanted to burn the Erdtree.

Marika couldn’t risk Melina tearing down everything she had worked for, so she had Maliketh confront Melina and defeat her. Maliketh then took Melina’s black flame just as we take Messmer’s flame, and he converted it into destined death, giving Maliketh sole control over the only thing that can kill the soul, thus truly killing someone once and for all.

(Note, Maliketh didn’t have destined death when he defeated Melina, which is why she’s still around, he killed her, but couldn’t get rid of her for good, nor did he need to once he took her power away.)

So when we meet Melina, she doesn’t know who she is or what her purpose is, but in time, she ultimately arrives at the same conclusion once again, she wants to burn the Erdtree, even without her black flame, she’s still the same person. We can then see to her wishes and use her to burn the Erdtree OR we can spare her and burn the Erdtree with the flame of frenzy.

And then in the flame of frenzy ending, we see Melina take on a new form, her original form, the form of The Gloam-Eyed Queen. Why has she reverted to this old form?

Because we kill Maliketh and unleash destined death, thus returning Melina’s black flame power to her.

The idea of Melina and Messmer being twins is backed up further by their association with the serpents. Messmer’s association with the serpents is obvious, where as Melina’s connection relies on the theory of her being the Gloam-Eyed Queen, where she’d then be associated with the Godskins, and we know the Godskins are associated with serpents.

My own musings...

What if Maliketh defeated Melina/the Gloam Eyed Queen, but let her be. Deafeated doesn't mean killed. It's possible she was burnt and bodiless because Messmer destroyed her. Marika already makes him do her dirty deeds with his subjugation of the shadowland, isn't it possible he requested he burn his sister so she could better control her as a spirit?

Things that don't really gel : why would Melina be "queen" of anything. Where would she have ruled? If she's an empyrean, as we know she was, where is her shadow bound beast, and more importantly, why wasn't Messmer? We know both Miquella and Malenia have no shadows (as far as we can tell) but were also both Empyreans despite the curse.

Perhaps it's because Melina inherited Grace, while Messmer didn't.

Perhaps the flames aren't the curse, but only the serpent inside of him. Making him uneligible, not only for grace, but also for empyrean status.

Now that I think about it, there's NOTHING to support this, but it's possible that Melina could have been the queen Marika puts in charge of all the shadowlands while she's off with Messmer in the Lands Between. There is a lot of death there. Maliketh and Messmer could have come for her together, Messmer burning her/returning her to Marika to control (and use later on).

#elden ring #sote #shadow of the erdtree #elden ring dlc #elden ring lore #elden ring meta #sote meta #messmer #messmer the impaler #melina #the gloam eyed queen #marika #queen marika #marika the eternal #maliketh the black blade #elden ring theory

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syubseokie · 4 months ago

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all on my tongue (i want it) | khj

― pairing: kim hongjoong x pierced afab!reader ― genre: explicit, a lil fluff, idol au ― word count: 2.6k ― warnings: oral sex (m receiving), cum swallowing, pet names (baby, babe), reader has a tongue piercing, a hint of cockwarming ― summary: Your voice is coaxing but not demanding, and Hongjoong acquiesce to your siren call. Soon, the gentle prodding of your tongue bleeds into longer strokes and your lover shivers at the sensation. Yet, something feels different... OR The one where you surprises Hongjoong with a new tongue piercing ― notes: at the end.

"Do you think I'd suit a tongue piercing?"

The question is completely random and you had not even realised the words left your mouth until you noticed your sister stare at you with wide-eyes and an excited grin.

"Yes, oh my god!"

You hum, pulling a quick inhale on your vape, before asking, "Should we go get it done now?"

"Damn! Hongjoong only left last night and you're already spiralling." She teases. "Let me smoke this last cone and then we can go."

You wave your dismissively, thinking over the spontaneity of this afternoon's session with your sister and the upcoming event. It was not often your sister had a day off, but being that you were at home on your own for the next month, she decided to "pull a sickie" and crash your apartment; arms lined with snacks, a bag of the devil's lettuce, and her home-made gravity bong.

The sound of spluttered coughing brings you out of your quiet musing and you snort as she chugs back her fruit juice. "You good?"

She nods, a slight wheeze escaping her lips, before she reaches over to take a hit from your vape. You allow her to do so, stealing her drink and taking a gulp, before standing up and motioning her to follow. "Alright, let's go get a tongue piercing."

∞

"What are we getting today, hun?"

It suddenly hits what you're about to do as you fill in the consent form, and you hope your voice is clear of nerves when you reply, "Tongue piercing."

Once the form is completed and the payment finalised, you and your sister follow the piercer into a smaller room where she instructs you to sit on the edge of a black cushioned table. Your sister sits on a chair opposite you, playing absentmindedly with her own tongue bar, but you can see the excitement in her eyes as your piercer preps the required instruments.

"Don't be nervous," your sister chimes when she notices your gaze, "You're going to look so cool with it once it's done. And it doesn't even hurt!"

You glance at the clamp in the piercer's gloved grasp before looking back to your sibling. "You sure?"

She offers you a reassuring smile. "Trust me. The healing process is probably worse than the actual needle and it doesn't even take that long to heal either."

The piercer agrees, informing you of what to expect in the coming days and weeks as your tongue heals. They remind you to rinse your mouth daily with warm water and salt, and also advise what foods will be easier to eat during the next two weeks. "Are you ready?"

You inhale deeply, steeling your nerves. "Let's do it."

∞

Using the bathroom mirror, you stare at the cute barbell that sits on your tongue. After three-and-a-half weeks since your initial visit, you returned to the piercing studio to check the healing progression. You had spotted the light blue aurora borealis designed jewellery in the glass cabinet when you entered the store for your follow-up appointment, and after receiving the go ahead to change the piece to a slightly shorter bar, you requested the pretty one that had caught your eye.

Safe to say, you were very happy with your impulsive decision and you had a feeling your boyfriend would be too.

Speaking of...

The feeling of excitement (and, to be honest, relief) floods your system when you glance at your phone to see Hongjoong's text reminding you he and the members were finally back in the country. You do not consider yourself a needy partner, but you cannot deny how much you missed him — or at least being in the same time zone. Phone calls, voice notes, and sending tiktoks could only fill the gap of his missing presence so much, and you could not wait to wrap your arms around his frame once again.

Nor could you wait to wrap your tongue around his c—

The sound of his ringtone breaks through your thoughts, and you are quick to answer his call.

"Baby?"

A smile graces your features when you hear the familiar endearment, and you switch off the bathroom light before making your way into the living room. "Hi Joongie," you reply with a soft voice. "Are you out of the airport now?"

"I am. Did you want to come to our place or should I come to your apartment?"

You hum, mulling the options over. "I'm not too fussed. What's easier for you?" There is a bit of rustling on his end and you faintly hear Wooyoung's voice in the background.

"I'll come to your place," he decides. "I'll drop my things off first and shower before heading over. Is that okay?"

"Of course, love. Are you sure you're not tired, though? We can always see each other tomorrow or once you've settled back in. I'm not going anywhere, Joong."

Despite the tiredness you hear in his tone, he waves off your concern with assurance that he wants to see you. "I miss you."

His words make your chest flutter and you can't help but internally roll your eyes at how soft you are for him. "Alright then. I'll get some food sorted."

"You are heaven-sent. See you soon."

∞

It is just over an hour later when you hear the tell-tale sign of your apartment door opening, followed by the removal of shoes and Hongjoong's dulcet voice calling out for you. Having just finished whipping up a pot of stir-fry with whatever you had in your fridge, the aroma of a home cooked meal wafting through the air and the low sounds of lo-fi music welcomes your boyfriend into your place.

Quickly wiping your hands with a kitchen towel, you go to greet Hongjoong but his excitement to see you is palpable as he meets you halfway with a playful "Honey, I'm home!", before wrapping you in his embrace. You chuckle, allowing him to bury his head in your neck, and return his hug. His scent is familiar and overwhelming in the best of ways, solidifying his physical presence.

"I'm glad you're back," you murmur while gently running your fingers through his hair. "I missed you."

He responds with a low hum and his arms around you tighten just a fraction. "I missed you too. So much." He slightly loosens his hold enough to press a much-needed kiss to your lips, but before he can deepen the action, you pull away and offer him a knowing smile.

"Are you hungry? Food's ready."

He shakes his head and brings you back into his arms. "Not hungry right now. Not for food anyway." His mouth begins a trail from your collarbones, up your neck, and back towards your lips, his hands stationed in your hips to steady your wavering frame. "One month away from you is far too long."

You cannot help but sigh happily at the sensations he offers; tilting your head back to grant him access to your neck as he makes his way back down the opposite side. "You're being dramatic. It wasn't that bad. I'm sure you and your right hand became well acquainted again on the nights you really missed me."

Hongjoong huffs, his breath tickling your neck deliciously and you fight the urge to rub your thighs together because there was no way you were going to let him know just how much he was affecting you. God, you are so weak for him.

"While that's true," he says, his thumbs digging into your sides just a little deeper, making you emit a small, undignified sound, "It certainly doesn't beat the feeling of your tight pussy. Or your mouth."

His vulgar words stir something inside of you, and you quickly decide that food can definitely wait. "In that case," you hum, pushing him towards your sofa, "I have a surprise for you."

He responds with a single eyebrow raise before collapsing on the furniture as you settle on your knees in front of him. A knowing smirk plays on your lips when you see the outline of his semi pressing against the confines of his black jeans, and you waste no time in unzipping his pants and pulling him out of his briefs. A quiet hiss escapes his mouth once you begin stroking him gently, coaxing him into full hardness before placing a chaste kiss on the tip.

"Close your eyes, Joongie. Let me make you feel good."

Hongjoong does not argue; simply allowing his head to fall against the back of the chair and his eyes to flutter shut. Your touches are magic in the way he feels the tension in his muscles ease and a giant sigh mixed with relief and pleasure fall from his lips. Kitten licks from his tip down to the base are less of a teasing gesture and more of a warm up before the sound of you spitting into your palm and taking hold of his hard member makes his balls clench in anticipation. He moans softly and resists the urge to beg for your mouth. You know what he needs at this very moment, and all he has to do is enjoy it.

"Relax for me, baby."

Your voice is coaxing but not demanding, and Hongjoong acquiesce to your siren call. Soon, the gentle prodding of your tongue bleeds into longer strokes and your lover shivers at the sensation. Yet, something feels different—

With purpose, you flatten your tongue against Hongjoong's cock and drag it upwards in a painstakingly slow motion. His nostrils flare, and just as he opens his eyes to lock with yours, you swipe your muscle along the slit of the head, making sure he feels the piercing where you want him to.

"Holy fuck—" he gasps, staring at you in awe. "Baby, did you— fuck —did you get your tongue pierced?"

Your eyes twinkle in delight. Rather than respond verbally, you choose to focus on bringing your boyfriend to perfect absolution by taking him in your mouth and slowly pushing him down your throat. The sound he makes is one that has you clenching in excitement, and it isn't long before you feel his hands settle on the back of your head. You hum around his cock, the vibrations making him moan again, before dragging your lips and tongue back to the tip. You continue doing this in a relaxed manner for a few minutes, enjoying the sounds falling from your boyfriend’s lips, until you decide to up the ante by steadying your palms on his thighs and increasing your pace.

"Shit!"

Satisfied with his reaction, you carry on; occasionally meeting his dark gaze with your own, but never stopping. Even when you begin to feel that familiar dull ache in your jaw, you switch up your movements by including your hands to work in tandem with your mouth.

Hongjoong is in pure bliss. Soft pants and whispers of your name and how good you are drip in honey-covered ecstasy, and he believes that if the world were to end that moment, there is no other way he would go (except, maybe, between your thighs but semantics ). The sound of wet slurps mixed with the sensation of your pierced tongue and soft hands brings him closer to that just-out-of-reach high, but when you take him wholly in your mouth again — your nose pressing against his neatly trimmed pubic bone — and swallow, that high brushes against the frays of his sanity.

"Baby," he mutters with a choked gasp, "f-fuck, baby, I'm really—" another wheeze as his orgasm crawls up the base of his spine. "I'm really fucking close."

You do not pull back. In fact, your grip on his thighs tighten as you bob your head up and down his length with determination while maintaining eye contact. Drool leaks from the corner of your mouth with each push and pull, and there are unshed tears pooling in your waterline. You are not particularly fond of the mess that comes with giving head, but Hongjoong loves it messy and you love making him happy.

Hongjoong is at his wits ends and barely coherent when he tries to warn you. "Shit. Baby. I'm going to — f-fuck — I'm so close ." His words are desperate, body tense and breathing shallow. "Please, baby. Where? Where c-can I...?"

You pull back and take hold of his throbbing cock. Spews of curses and praise mixed with wet squelches resound loudly. You close your eyes and open your mouth with your tongue out.

The sight of the pretty coloured jewel sitting snugly on the awaiting muscle is enough to send Hongjoong over the edge.

A long, drawn-out groan is heard seconds before you taste the familiar thick, warm fluid. Your upper lip catches a bit of his release too and you eagerly swipe along its plushness. The pulsating member in your hand is a reminder that he is still going, and you teasingly stroke him until his whines signal his oversensitivity. Yet, even when he pleads your name with a warning hiss, you offer gentle kisses and soft licks to his softening cock.

—

Hongjoong shudders as exhaustion finally settles in. Normally, his stamina allows him to last a lot longer, but having gone without you than what is normal, he is not surprised at how quickly he succumbed to the pleasure of your warm mouth and knowing hands. Hongjoong does not know what nation he saved in his past life to have met you in this one, but as he watches you swallow his cum with a grateful sigh and a wistful smile, he wisely chooses not to question it. He is unsure how much time passes — though he suspects it has only been less than a few minutes — when you gently usher him to consciousness and hand him a hot bowl of the food you had prepared. There is another bowl in your hand for yourself, and he eagerly accepts the meal before gesturing to you to join him on the couch.

"Welcome home, Joongie."

Yeah. Hongjoong wisely chooses not to question it at all.

∞

A little something extra:

03:48am Buttcrack (Sister): A little birdy told me your boyfriend is home 👀 03:49am Buttcrack (Sister): Did you show him your piercing yet? 03:49am Buttcrack (Sister): What did he say? 03:51am Buttcrack (Sister): Helloooooo ??? 03:55am Buttcrack (Sister): Bro you better be dead or giving him head 03:57am You: It's literally crackhead hours wtf go to sleep 03:57am Buttcrack (Sister): What did Hongjoong say about your piercing? 03:58am You: Idk I was too busy sucking his dick 03:58am Buttcrack (Sister): Gross 03:58am Buttcrack (Sister): 🤢🤢🤢 03:59am You: gave him that hwak-TUH gawk gawk 3000 04:00am Buttcrack (Sister): brotha eugh 04:02am You: Fuck off I'm going back to sleep

Switching your phone to DND and placing it back on the charging dock, you curl back into Hongjoong's arms and close your eyes. His cock inside of you twitches and, despite the sensitivity you feel as a result of the activities that took place after your meal, you clench around him.

"Who were you texting?" Your boyfriend tiredly mumbles as he drags you on top of him.

"My sister."

He makes a humming noise and softly traces patterns along your bare back. "What did she want?"

"Wanted to know what you thought of my piercing. Told her I was too busy sucking your dick to ask." You answer, sleep dragging you into its warm embrace.

It is silent for a few moments. You are on the edge of fully succumbing to the land of dreams when Hongjoong's voice brings you back—

"Maybe I should get a tongue piercing."

―

fin.

a/n: hey, hi, hello!

uh…it's been a minute lol. and i'm an ateez girlie now (atiny wassuuuuuup)! i've had this sitting in the dungeons for a while after i spontaneously decided to get my tongue pierced at the start of this year when my partner visited their home country for a month. fun fact: all interactions with reader and reader's sister are actual conversations that transpired between my own sister and i (because she's the enabler out of all my siblings lmao). anywho, thought this would be a little fun thing to publish after two years of radio silence. i have been going through the trenches y'all and the imposter syndrome hit HARD when it came to my writing.

thank you so much for reading my work. i am always open to thoughts and feedback, so feel free to drop a like, reblog or leave me a comment!

please look forward to my other work ♡

―

masterlist | ao3 | twitter

#written by syubseokie #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #ateez smut #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x y/n #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong ateez #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n

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inamagicalhallucination · 1 year ago

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sskk no powers au where they both go to the same cafe everyday to draw

on atsushi’s side

he goes everyday, orders a drink and a new sweet to try and then he sits near a window to sketch

sometimes a friend will come along - but the cafe isn’t too loud but has a steady amount of people and to atsushi its a perfect place to sketch and get ideas for his work

he likes to sketch all sorts of ppl

the short hatted ginger who he’d seen when he’d gone out with dazai - who had been lovely to draw until he saw dazai scowled and stomped away much to atsushi’s confusion

the red headed girl who’d noticed him drawing and struck up a conversation with him and was now one of his dearest friends lucy

and him

he came to the cafe just as much as atsushi himself

he’d sit in the corner and scribble away

always alone

he had long elegant fingers and pale skin, dark hair the lightened at the bottom that he’d pull back after sitting there for a while

he always wore black and kept to himself

he was the most beautiful person atsushi’s eyes had ever seen

and in no time atsushi’s sketch book was filled with him

when atsushi’s friend called him up about a gallery type event open to a wide range of invited artists he’d been excited

especially when all that the theme had been was a simple ‘beauty’

his cheeks were only a little red when his section was filled with the same muse

on akutagawa’s side

akutagawa finds drawing ppl to be rather dull

humans can be intriguing but individually? akutagawa’s art focuses on the world - landscapes - groups of humans travelling - never one single person

akutagawa comes to the cafe after a long week of not being able to find anything intriguing enough

cafe’s are relatively crowded so he thinks he can sketch for a while until something hits him

when he sees him

the sunlight from the window illuminating white hair, long lashes brushing his cheeks as he looked down at whatever was in front of him, pink lips curled into a small genuine smile

when the boy looked up, potentially becuz he felt akutagawa’s staring, akutagawa saw his eyes, purple and gold

akutagawa ryuunosuke was a smitten man

and before he knew it, he was coming back to the cafe every day hoping to catch a glimpse of the man, hsi pencil tracing the shapes of him over and over in his sketchbook

akutagawa had been wrong

this one person was the most breathtaking view, nothing else in the world could ever compare

objectively of course

akutagawa’s friends notice his newfound muse as they help him take out the pieces he’s selected for his section in the gallery of his sister’s friend’s friend

akutagawa thinks its just becuz they know him so well - not all his works featured the boy’s face - though all were inspired by him

no one else would notice

well

other than the white haired boy standing in front of his work, wide eyed, red cheeked, and mouth agape

akutagawa would be embarrassed if he himself hadn’t just seen the white haired boy- atsushi nakajima’s - work himself

so pretty much artist atsushi draws cute cafe boy and ends up putting cute cafe boy inspired pieces in a gallery and akutagawa draws his own cute cafe boy and puts them in the same event and boom they’re drawing each other so now they’re in the middle of the gallery doing that one spider man meme

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toasttt11 · 1 month ago

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surprises

November 9, 2019

Hayden yawned and took a sip of her coffee as she got off the highway. She had been driving for three hours to Alberta and had woken up really early so she could get there early in the day.

Luke had a tournament for the past week in Alberta and today was his last day and the only time she could get time to go see him.

Hayden has just played against the Devils the night and got to see Jack, Ellen and Jim for a little bit before they all headed out to Vancouver for Jack’s next game agonist Quinn.

Hayden luckily leaves for her away game tomorrow morning so she gets to spend the day with Luke and see him play.

Hayden pulled into the hockey rink and slipped on her black trench coat over her black pair of sweats and white hoodie with her green hat and green converse.

She slipped her phone and keys into her pocket and she walked into the rink and knew Luke had a early game and if he won he would be playing in the finals later tonight so either way they would still have the day together.

Hayden walked over to the rink Luke will playing on a in a few minutes and saw him warming up with him team off the ice before the Coach dismissed them before the game.

Hayden saw Luke and felt her shoulder’s loosen seeing Luke and being so close to him for the first time in months, “Lu!” Hayden called out and watched as Luke’s head snap up and he beamed when he saw Hayden standing there.

Luke rushed right over to her and hugged her so tightly that they almost both fell over.

Hayden let out a happy sigh and hugged him so tightly back, resting her head on the top of his head and she had a sad realization that he was taller than he was when she said goodbye to him a few months ago, “Look at you!” Hayden cooed as she pulled back from the hug and cupped his face looking at any changes that she missed, “You’ve gotten so tall!”

“You’re here!” Luke whispered in disbelief, he has had the worse few months being away from all three of his siblings for the first time and hated not seeing them every day but especially not seeing Hayden.

“You get for the whole day.” Hayden softly told him pressing a kiss to his forehead making Luke eagerly lean into her touch.

Luke beamed even brighter and clung to her. They heard Luke’s name being called from his coach and Luke frowned holding onto Hayden tighter not wanting to leave her yet.

“Hey you go play your game and i’ll be watching the entire time and i promise you i’ll be here after.” Hayden gently reassure her little shadow running a hand through his hair knowing it calms him.

Luke nodded slowly not looking happy having to leave Hayden and he hugged her once more beside rushing over to his team and down to the locker room.

Hayden watched Luke leave before walking away and getting a seat to watch his game.

Hayden couldn’t help but smile as she watched Luke get onto the ice and he immediately found her and was smiling and waving at her, she waved back.

“Are you Hayden?” The woman next to her asked with a kind smile.

Hayden looked away from Luke and at the woman narrowing her eyes slightly, she didn’t want to be recognized at the hockey tournament not wanting to take away anything from Luke, “I am.” Hayden answered hesitantly answered.

“Luke talks about you all the time,” The woman explained, “I’m Sharon my son Dylan plays with Luke.”

Hayden relaxed realizing it wasn’t a fan noticing her, “Ah Duker.” Hayden mused having heard all about Luke’s new best friends.

“Are you his sister?” Sharon kindly asked just curious what the relation was between Hayden and Luke as Hayden is all over the Hughes house and Luke talks about her always.

Hayden paused but nodded, “Yeah Luke’s my little brother.” She proudly said and it was true she has thought of the three as her siblings since she little and she knew her parents thought of them like their sons just as Ellen and Jim see her as their daughter.

Sharon nodded and smiled letting Hayden pay attention to Luke.

Hayden watched the entire game with a proud smile, she couldn’t be more of the player Luke is becoming and she can not wait to see what he will do in his career and knew he is going to become a very special player.

Hayden stood up and loudly clapped as Luke scored a goal and seeing Luke’s beaming smile at her when he noticed her cheering made her miss being able to be at his games more.

Hayden watched at Luke’s team won the game and would be going into the finals later tonight.

Hayden waited outside the locker room and talked with Sharon as they waited for the boys to come out of the locker room.

“Haydes!!!” Luke beamed rushing out of the locker room in his suit and ran right to Hayden and hugged her so tightly she grunted but hugged his back.

“Hey you.” Hayden fondly responded and kissed the top of his head, “You played so good!” Hayden praised him when they pulled back making Luke perk up from her praise. Luke stayed under Hayden’s arm curled into her side.

“You’re Hayden Blake.” Dylan Duke said shocked as he was walking behind Luke, He knows that Hayden is Luke’s sister but it’s shocking to see her as she was becoming a star in the NHL.

“It’s nice to meet you Dylan, Lu talks about you often.” Hayden spoke with a small teasing smile.

“Awww!” Dylan teased Luke making Luke roll his eyes at his best friend.

Hayden and Luke said their goodbyes and Hayden had gotten permission to take Luke for the rest of the day.

Luke and Hayden walked to her car and Luke looked around her new car looking at everything as he sat in the passenger seat.

“What are we feeling for food?” Hayden asked Luke as she pulled out her phone for direction to whatever he chooses.

“Chipotle?” Luke asked hopefully making Hayden laugh and shake her head fondly.

“Why am i even surprised.” Hayden said knowing how easily Jack and Luke would eat chipotle for every meal if they could, Hayden put in the directions and started the car.

“Okay. Tell me everything.” Hayden told Luke very seriously but with a teasing smile as she started to drive.

Hayden was so content listening to Luke just ramble the entire time as she drove.

Hayden and Luke got out do the car with a Hayden’s arm over Luke’s shoulder and he continue to talk to her as they walked into the food place.

Luke paused for a few minutes as they ordered but once they sat back down he continued to tell Hayden about everything while he stuffed his face.

Hayden was happily content to listen Luke as they finished up lunch and to back into her car and they headed back to Luke’s hotel and spend some time together until they have to leave for his last game.

Hayden kept her arm wrapped around Luke’s shoulder as they walked up to his hotel room and Luke opened the door letting them walk into the room.

Hayden gently pushed Luke to the bathroom to get changed into comfortable clothes as she took off her trench coat, hat and converse and plopped onto Luke’s bed.

Luke came out of the bathroom in sweatpants and shirt and jumped into the bed immediately cuddling into Hayden, missing when he could get cuddles from Hayden everyday.

Hayden ran her fingers through his curls that she knows makes him fall asleep and within in a few minutes Luke was fast asleep in Hayden’s arms.

Hayden spent some time on her phone doing some work and getting some things done before tossing her phone away and resting her head on top of Luke’s and falling asleep too.

Hayden rubbed her eyes as her alarm went off, she shut it off and gently rubbed Luke’s back to make him slowly wake up as he needed to get ready so they could leave for his last game.

Luke groaned and shoved his head farther into Hayden’s side not wanting to get up and have to be away from Hayden especially as he knew she was leaving in a few hours and he wouldn’t be seeing her till Christmas.

“Come on Bud.” Hayden soothingly spoke making Luke grumble and reluctantly sit up, “Go get dressed.” Hayden smiled as she poked her finger in Luke’s side making him squirm and laugh.

Luke laughed and stood up and headed into the bathroom.

Hayden slipped her shoes and hat back on and stayed on her phone till Luke came out do the bathroom and he was ready to levee.

Luke came out the bathroom and slipped his shoes on, “Ready?” Hayden asked and Luke nodded and tucked himself to Hayden’s side as they walked out of the room and through the hotel to her car.

Hayden drove them the quick drive back to the arena and they walked back inot the arena together.

Hayden pulled Luke into a hug and pressed a kiss to his head, “You are going to do great.” Hayden softly reassured him making Luke nod and let out a breath before he let go of Hayden and walked into the locker room.

Hayden went and found a seat and went on her phone until Luke and his team came out and the game started.

Hayden frowned slightly as the other team scored twice within in minutes and they were playing better than Luke’s team.

Hayden pursed her lips hoping the next intermission is better for Luke.

It wasn’t and the third intermission wasn’t any better either.

Luke got a silver medal in the tournament making Hayden frown at the sad look on her baby brother’s face.

Hayden walked down to the locker room leaning on the wall waiting for Luke.

Luke walked out slowly with a sad and defeated face, he walked right to Hayden and hide his face against her chest and sagged against his sister.

“Oh buddy.” Hayden mumbled sadly rubbing his back gently, “I’m proud of you.” Hayden softly told him knowing he probably doesn’t want to hear he played a good game when he just lost a huge game.

Hayden walked out with Luke clinging to her and hated that she had to leave him soon being so sad.

Hayden held her hand out once she sat in the car letting Luke be able to hold her hand as she drove them back to his hotel.

Luke was silent the entire time and once they got to the hotel he clung back to Hayden’s side as they walked to his room.

Hayden sent Luke to the shower once they got inside the room.

She looked at the time seeing it was already almost eight pm and she had to be back in Edmonton by the morning at eight am and it’s a three hour drive back and she planned to leave now but she knew she couldn’t leave Luke yet and would just get less sleep.

Hayden laid in the bed on her phone texting with Ellen letting her know Luke will be ok before she turned it off when Luke came out of the bathroom in sweatpants and oilers shirt she got him.

Luke stumbled into bed and hid his face on her shoulder holding onto her tightly as he knew she would be leaving soon.

“Wanna watch something?” Hayden softly offered knowing he won’t sleep for a while. Luke nodded and Hayden clicked on a movie on the tv.

Hayden and Luke watched the entire movie and when the end credits started Luke clung to her tighter.

“Do you want me to stay till you fall asleep or leave before?” Hayden gently offered Luke, not sure if he would want to wake up in the morning and she would be gone.

“Stay.” Luke mumbled his eyes already shutting close.

“Good night Lu, i love you.” Hayden softly told her baby brother kissing the top of head.

“I love you too.” Luke mumbled half asleep.

Hayden watched as his breathing evened out and his face relaxed and she didn’t have the heart to leave yet.

Hayden ended up just staying for another hour until it was already midnight and she knew she had to get back so she sadly let go of Luke and tucked a pillow into his arms.

She leaned over him and pressed a gentle kiss to his head, “I’ll see you soon bud.” Hayden whispered her voice thick with emotion not wanting to leave her little shadow.

Hayden grabbed her stuff and quickly got out of the room blinking so she didn’t cry as she hates leaving her family.

Hayden headed to her car and started the drive back to Edmonton.

39 notes · View notes

honeesucker · 2 years ago

Text

Haunted by a Shadow

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x Fem!Reader x Dabi

Word Count: 12,976

Content Warnings: Dead Dove (do not eat)! Kidnapping, Non-Con, Dabi burns reader, Unhinged Brother™ Touya, sexual torture, vaginal and anal penetration / double-penetration (body & objects), drug use (on reader), mentions of blood, use of phone for sexual photos/video, (to be safe) mentions of incest (Dabi calls you ‘basically family’, refers to himself as ‘brother’ and you as ‘little sister’), reader peeing on themself, reader has to ingest a non-edible item, no happy ending.

*Not proofread.

Shoto couldn’t stop glancing over at you as the snowflakes danced down from the darkening sky and landed on your hair, your jacket, your face. He wanted to kiss away the little cold specks but knew better than to be so bold, so quickly. His whole body buzzed with new feelings, never having really thought about romantic connections beyond what he’s observed in others, it was just never something he considered for himself even after graduating from UA where more and more of his friends began to seek out partners.

You, however, caught his attention by literally running into him at Endeavor’s agency. It happened just outside of the cafeteria where a gorgeous courtyard was centered, flowers, trees and shrubbery hiding various benches and picnic tables for staff to take a break from the office out in a natural space away from the harsh lighting and non-stop buzz of agency work. You had been wearing a comfortably loose silken black dress that was cinched in at the waist, and for a moment you glanced down at your phone the exact second Shoto had turned the corner around a column in the courtyard causing you to drop your phone, spill hot coffee between the both of you, and trip in the excitement landing atop the Pro Hero heir. Your eyes had widened as large as the moon, bright and shiny, panicked, Shoto had noted; but he fell for you all the same in that instant, assured you that it was only an accident and that he insisted on taking you out shopping to replace the dress.

That was three weeks ago, and now you were walking home with him to meet his siblings and have dinner. The sun had almost fully set behind the horizon and the gentle fall of snow was all that surrounded you and you walked nearly hand-in-hand with Shoto, your fingers grazing each other little by little as your hands swung closely. He was soon ripped from his thoughts by your hand, warm and soft, clasping his. His cheeks instantly heated up, tips of his ears burning hot beneath his knitted cap as he turned away from you quickly, coughing into his other hand as you swung your hands between the both of you.

“This is so nice, Sho!” You mused aloud, watching with twinkling eyes the snow falling around the neighborhood, the light from the moon and the streetlamps shimmering back as you glanced at him with a huge smile on your face.

Shoto hadn’t explicitly asked you to be his girlfriend yet, though any who watched you two over the past few weeks would definitely say you were already together in all ways but the label. Shoto had a plan to ask you tonight but the way his body buzzed and bounced with anxiety he wasn’t sure he’d have the courage just yet, but he resolved to do his best to end this night with you officially together. He couldn’t wait - he had asked Fuyumi to make whatever she deemed best for dinner though he did mention you didn’t particularly like seafood of any sort. When you both finally turned the corner, still hand-in-hand, you were taken aback by the large, traditional style house you saw.

“Wow,” you breathed out, “Shoto your house is amazing!” Shoto’s chest puffed up with pride that you were praising anything related to him. Though he’d rather not be under the same roof as his father - he was still happy to share space with his brother and sister.

“Thank you,” Shoto finally said, leading you up the stone pathway to his front door. You both took off your shoes, coats and hats while you stepped inside the genkan. Sitting down on a bench briefly to unlace your boots, Shoto opened a small cabinet and produce a new-looking pair of grey slippers for you. You smiled as you thanked him, slipping into the house slippers and following behind him as he led you deeper into his home. Soon enough the smell of delicious food hit your nose, and you couldn’t stop your mouth from instantly salivating. Shoto and you turned a corner that led to an open room with the similarly traditional look of the rest of the house - tatami mats, and shoji doors with a sleek, slate gray interior and minimal decorating; mostly just a couple of family portraits, some flowers in a vase and some old looking traditional art pieces. In the center of the room there was a long chabudai table with cushions for seating, namely, to fit the large family he was a part of, but he had assured you it would only be you and his siblings tonight. Your anxiety had lessened knowing you wouldn’t be subject to Endeavor’s hard gaze, or even more blunt line of questioning. The table was already set with dishes, a couple bottles of sake, as well as glasses, chopsticks and spoons. Shoto had directed you to sit down and get comfortable and he would check in on his sister in the kitchen.

“Wow,” you had whispered out in a long breath, taking in the room around you. You wondered what it was like growing up here for Shoto - though you had an idea of some of what he endured. You swallowed hard, remembering the broadcast made by the estranged Todoroki brother, the eldest - Touya. He had laid out the abuse and neglect he faced at the hands of Endeavor, and while the word of a villain couldn’t always be trusted - Shoto had given you more of a look into his life that made the knot in your throat only grow bigger.

Your brief train of thought was interrupted soon by Shoto reentering the room with a tray of two rice bowls, placing one on each side of the table, followed by some smaller side dishes of various pickled vegetables, katsudon and various tempura vegetables. Soon Fuyumi was fussing over you, getting you a glass of water to start and helping to serve you as Shoto sat down next to you, and soon Shoto’s older brother Natsuo entered as well, following his nose to the table and awaiting food.

The introduction felt easy, eating and drinking (Natsuo opened the sake first and poured the round for everyone) became more and more comfortable as the night progressed and soon you were laughing and leaning on Shoto as he mindlessly picked up tempura vegetables and fed you between you telling stories and listening to Natsuo’s bad jokes. Shoto could see from the corner of his eyes how Fuyumi was watching the two of you, the fondest smile on her face as she gave an almost unnoticeable nod to Shoto. Shoto was on cloud nine, never imagining the night to end up this good, but then again things had always come easy between you two.

Soon enough Natsuo retreated back to his room, Fuyumi insisted the cleaning be left to her and she hurried you and Shoto out of the dining room, and Shoto grew bolder as he took you by the hand and led you outside to go for a walk. He even wrapped you up in his own coat, which you took happily, bringing it up to your face to blow warm air in, and snuggle into the familiar, clean scent you’ve come to love. After walking for a bit, you and Shoto stopped in the center of a beautiful garden lit up by twinkling fairy lights, small like little fireflies as he led you to a bench seated just beneath a Sakura tree, and nearest to an expansive koi pond whose bridge you walked over to reach where you were now seated.

“[Name]...” Shoto’s voice suddenly breaking the silence of the moment shook you out of your thoughts as you glanced over at the man you’ve come to adore. Admiring the way his eyes seemed to always look like they were seeing into you rather than just seeing you on the outside.

“Yes, Sho?” You managed out, tongue heavy with your sudden nerves.

“I’ve wanted to ask you for a while now but,” Shoto started, almost backing out but he resigned himself to this moment, no matter how it turned out. “I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend, officially, if you want to of course - you can absolutely say n-” Shoto’s rambling was cut off by you. More accurately, your lips silence his rambling as they pressed against his. They were softer than you imagined, cold to the touch in the chilly night air but soon the warmth took over as he deepened the kiss with you. “W-was that a yes or-” You planted another quick, silencing kiss on Shoto and his sweetly oblivious nature as you laughed.

“Yes, Shoto - I would absolutely love to be your girlfriend.” He pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you as he nestled your head beneath his chin. His cheeks were heating up as a furious blush overtook his face, and he bit his lip to keep from screaming out.

You were his. Finally!

Unfortunately for you both, an uninvited guest was overlooking the sweet moment shared between Shoto and you, and it was only going to get worse from there.

Dabi was feeling - well, how was he feeling? This emotion in his chest wasn’t new to him but he couldn’t quite place it. He almost couldn’t remember when he last felt it until it all hit him at once as he watched Shoto kissing you.

Jealousy.

Bearing witness as Shoto stumbled over what must be his first romantic confession, sweetly asking you to be his girlfriend, and you saying yes. He didn’t know why this set off an angry black fire within his body, but it did, and it was burning its way down to his palms where sparks of blue were already starting. Dabi clenched his fists, extinguishing his quirk as quickly as it sparked up. He needed to wait for the perfect moment to strike. Burning you and Shoto up in a quick blaze just wouldn’t give him the satisfaction he was looking for, not even close - but as he waited, watched as you and Shoto shared a goodbye; watched as Shoto insisted on walking you home but you told him you’d be fine and for him to stay... Dabi could swear he was receiving divine karma for his old man’s transgressions, his mind running a mile a minute with the possibilities of what he could do surfacing to his mind as the perfect opportunity he couldn’t have ever anticipated showed up right in front of him in the form of you walking away from his childhood home alone.

Dabi couldn’t help the way his tongue darted out at the sight of you calmly walking down the sidewalk away from him - couldn’t help imagining just how perfect this night was going to be once he got his hands on you.

The walk back to your apartment took about an hour. You had considered taking the bus, but your body was full of too much adrenaline to actually calm down. Heart was fully, and fluttering with the renewed feelings for Shoto, and how sweetly the night with him went - you really couldn’t have asked for anything more.

Well, maybe a better sense of self-preservation.

Dabi couldn’t help but feel amused at your blissful march back to your apartment with no sense of caution, no thought that anyone would be watching you, following you... but he was. He was watching you as you walked the familiar streets of downtown Musutafu. Watched as you passed dark alley after dark alley, so many easy places he could slip in to and snatch you up to drag you back to the building he was currently staying in - and then... and then? Well, his imagination was running wild at all of the possibilities. His chest was still burning with the jealousy of seeing his younger brother - the golden child of his family - being happy and getting to experience things he never had a chance to; even worse he was attempting to live normally even after his streaming confession across all of Japan? Fuck that. He wanted to ruin that for Shoto, so that meant ruining you and all that you symbolized. It wasn’t ten more minutes when you finally jogged up the steps of a nice-looking apartment building, nothing so fancy you had a doorman or real security but definitely not the slums. He watched from further back through the glass front doors as you checked your mail, grabbing a few envelopes from the slot before locking it back up and making your way toward the elevator. That’s when Dabi decided to enter your building, and watched the numbers count up and up until it landed on the twelfth floor. He walked back outside and stood across the street, watching with bated breath as he waited for one of the many dark windows to light up on the twelfth floor. He didn’t have to wait long as he saw the third from the far right light up - easy enough.

You locked the door behind you as you entered your apartment and switched on your lights, setting your keys and purse down and taking off your coat and shoes before slipping into your own house slippers, cheeks burning up at the memory of how Shoto got your own pair at his house now, too. You walked further into your apartment, turning on your electric kettle to make some tea before bed, and leaving it to heat up as you freshened up for the night - shower, nighttime skincare, and comfy sleep clothes - a ratty old All Might tank and soft, cheeky sleep shorts. You heard the alarm beeping that alerted you to your hot water being done, and when you rounded the corner out of your room looking out into your living room and kitchen your blood ran cold as your feet froze to the floor where you stood, one hand gripping the threshold tightly.

Someone was stood in your kitchen, having just pressed the kettle power button. The steam was spilling out of the top as the hissing whistle sound died down, the person still with their back to you but you noticed they were quite tall with a black hood pulled down over their face as they looked over their shoulder at where you stood, watching, waiting.

“W-Who are you,” you questioned quietly before swallowing your nerves and straightening up, “who are you and what are you doing in my apartment? Get the fuck out no-” your voice fell away as the figure turned fully, pulling their hood down with one hand as a wide, horrific smile appeared on the familiar face.

“Awe, c’mon little sister! That isn’t a way to greet your boyfriend's older brother now, is it?” Dabi... or Touya... Dabi stood in your kitchen’s white light. Hood pulled down to reveal the dyed black hair, and terrifying glacial eyes as they took you in, up and down your body until it made you feel sick, when they traveled up to meet your gaze again, smile stretching the scarred skin wide in such an unnatural way.

Ping!

You had promised Shoto that you would text him when you got back to your apartment safely, you had meant to do so when you sat down with your tea after you cleaned up, but that didn’t seem like it was going to happen now. Your fingers itched with the urge to run for your phone - if you could get a call started to Shoto you know he would respond faster than the police could, but with Dabi watching you like a cat with a cornered mouse you weren’t so sure it was the smartest move to make currently.

Ping!

Another text, that confirmed for you that it was Shoto checking in on you - no one else would be texting you this late. Dabi’s smile grew wide as he watched your thoughts race through your head, watched as you instinctively leaned toward the sound of your phone, watched as your fingers gripped and released the threshold still holding you up as your panicked eyes darted around your apartment.

“Now doll, I don’t have all day,” Dabi finally broke the long silence, taking a couple of steps forward that had your hand releasing the doorway and stumbling back against the wall behind you.

“Dabi,” your voice was as threatening as you could make it - which wasn’t much in the face of a notoriously dangerous villain. “Why are you in my apartment?”

“Don’t be like that,” Dabi took two more steps toward you, “no need for formalities, you know my name, don’t you? With the way little Shoto looks at you I’d say we’re on the quick path to being in-laws hm? Call me Touya.” It was at that moment a third text came in, rattling away as your phone vibrated in your purse atop the small table in your entryway. Dabi had turned his attention away from you for a second that gave you enough bravery to bolt for your room. To find and grab anything that could be a weapon, to get your door shut and locked, to jump out your window... anything.

The second your body moved, you scrambled like a rabbit swift and strong as you tried to push your door completely shut but Dabi was right behind you, wedging his boot to stop it from closing completely. When that failed you scrambled to your dresser where various objects were, but none seemed sturdy enough to take him out. It was in one of the moments your hands were scrambling for anything to turn around and hit him across the head with, that he grabbed you, pulling your arms behind your back and slamming you forward onto your bed. You struggled against his grip as he pressed his front almost completely onto you, lowering his weight to pin you down further. “K-Keep struggling,” he ground out, huffing as you continued to wiggle and try to free yourself from him, “it gives me a fucking hard on feeling you struggle like this.”

Everything stopped.

Your struggling, your screaming, all fight drained out of you at that revelation.

“Get the fuck off of me, Dabi,” you growled out, shifting your body to try and wiggle free again. “Shoto is going to come looking for me when I don’t answer his texts!”

“Oh,” Dabi was laughing now, the deep chuckle reverberating against your back. “I’m counting on that.”

You felt a sharp prick into your neck as the world around you blurred and blackened, whatever was in that needle sending you into a syrupy sleep as if your blood and the air you were breathing in thickened to suffocate you.

You woke up in more pain than you’ve ever experienced before in your life. Your head was pounding, your abdomen was in indescribable pain, and it hurt to move your body even an inch. Tears burned your eyes as you tried to open them, blinking away the sleep trying to get your vision to focus.

“Sleeping Beauty is finally awake,” a familiar voice came from the darkness, startling you until a bright, blinding light was turned on. Your eyes shut again at the bright assault. “Sorry for the inhospitality so far, I couldn’t control myself earlier and took some frustration out on you while you slept.” Dabi was looking over at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, mimicking kicks as his heavy boots scuffed the ground and thudded against the wall. You never had any broken bones before, but this surely had to be what a broken rib felt like. “Wish I had pain killers to spare but the few I get my hands on, I need for myself,” Dabi stepped closer to you bound on the floor of a simple-looking room before rearing his right foot back to bring another harsh kick to your stomach; you cried out, fresh tears spilling from your eyes as the burning spread out from the point of impact.

“P-please,” you managed out between choked gasps of air, “please stop, Dabi.”

“Didn’t I already tell you, doll?”

Kick.

“We’re practically family now!”

Kick.

“Call me Touya.”

Kick.

“Tou-Touya please,” you pleaded with the villain again. “Please stop. Tell me what you want, what I can do, I can help yo-” another kick hitting your shoulder this time with a sickening impact.

“What I want,” Dabi mused, his deep voice trailing off as he circled around you like a vulture to a carcass. “What I want is to hurt Endeavor, which can be achieved by hurting Shoto... which is achieved through hurting you. I want to take away everything I never got the chance to have, from him, and keep it for myself,” Dabi was kneeling now, scarred hand reaching down to push some of your hair from your bloodied face, pieces sticking to your skin from where the blood dried. “And you can help me by being a good little slut for your new brother,” Dabi lifted up your limp body from the floor to bring you over to a worn-out mattress, stained with Gods-know-what and a few rusted-looking springs poking out in places as you cried and tried to struggle, as weak as the attempt was with all of your strength zapped.

What was left of your ragged pajamas was removed from your body, skin prickling with goosebumps as the icy air in the room wafted over your exposed skin. Dabi’s hand shot back to your now-exposed chest, gripping and twisting your breasts painfully, forefinger and thumb coming up to grip your nipple and twist, pull, anything he could do to get you to scream again - and scream you did at each cruel ministration. It was when he was cupping the plush flesh of your breasts, scarred hands pushing them up from underneath that a blood-curdling scream as Dabi’s hands heated up to an ultra-hot temperature, branding your flesh with his palmprints. You felt queasy as you heard the sizzle of your skin and smelt the strangely charcoal smell as it burnt. The laughter you heard above you felt amplified as your senses went on high alert. “That was way too fun,” Dabi nearly moaned out, pressing his palms back into where he burnt you as you flinched away from the contact, slipping onto the bed as he straddled your legs, pinning you own further. He leaned in to first take your left nipple in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around the pert bud before biting down with considerable force, causing you to cry out once more; he mimicked his actions on your right nipple before licking and sucking up the column of your throat before he assaulted the area with deep bruised hickeys and some less-than-sexy, more like zombie, bites to the delicate skin.

The pain was making it hard for you to focus on anything else, like the feeling of Dabi shifting above you as he undid his belt, took off his jacket, his t-shirt, removed his jeans, kicked off his shoes and finally slipped out of his boxer briefs where his long, slender cock slapping up against his abdomen as it leaked a pearly bead of pre-cum, the silken, translucent substance slipping down his cockhead as he began to touch himself. He was watching you with predatory eyes, the lazy stoking of his hand up and down his length only serving to harden him more as he ached to be inside of you, and as he lent forward, shoving your legs apart with his own, you cried out as he thrusted forward, and in one swift motion he seated himself fully within your warmth, heavy balls slapping against your ass as the tension from his unprepped entry left your cunt burning, even worse as he spit barely enough to wet his cock down upon where your bodies joined together as he drug his cock out slowly, only for him to slam his hips forward with enough force it jostled you up the bed until your head hit the metal bars of the bedframe.

Dabi began a relentless assault on your pussy as his thrusts became more violent, shaking your whole body with the force as the friction continued to burn. Your body was trying to spare you the pain as it began to lubricate itself with the stimulation, but even in conjunction with Dabi’s spit, and the blood from what definitely felt like a friction tear, it wasn’t nearly enough to save you from it all. Dabi began laughing as his entry into your core was becoming easier, his ruthless thrusts gliding in and out. “Gettin’ all excited for me, huh doll?” Dabi lifted your legs, throwing one over his shoulder and pinning the other one down nearly folding you in half as he chased his own release, hips stuttering as he moaned lowly, whispering a shaky f-fuck under his breath as he pushed his hips forward, spongy cockhead pressing against the deepest point in you with an aching pressure before you felt the hot spurting of him cumming inside of you. You cried harder, hands weakly trying to push him from you but the pain and shock you were in made it hard to really gain an advantage over the man on top of you.

You felt sick to your stomach as you clenched your eyes shut, feeling as Dabi’s cock stayed seated within you before he began to drag it out agonizingly slow, but not before you heard the shutter sound from a camera. Your eyes shot open, wide in horror as you saw Dabi holding a phone pointed down where your bodies were connected, and the sick feeling only increased when you realized it was your phone.

Something was off.

Shoto couldn’t quite settle the uneasy feeling he felt, but when you didn’t text him within an hour, he began to worry so he shot you a quick text.

(Photo description: Fake text message screen, Y/N with a Sakura flower emoji top contact name, Shoto sent four texts which read as follow: “Hey Y/N, just making sure you made it home safely. Thank you for coming over tonight. // Y/N? Is everything okay? // Y/N please answer me, I just want to know you’re okay. // I already called your Mom. I’m coming over.”)

It only took Shoto about fifteen minutes to drive to your apartment, but to be fair he definitely didn’t go the speed limit. He had driven you home a couple of times from work and picked you up for a couple of lunch dates since you had first met so every path to your home was ingrained in him. He parked, and when he began his walk up to the lobby doors he noticed the lights in your apartment were on. Hope and dread wrestled for dominance within him as he tried to think of a reason you didn’t answer his texts.

Did you just forget?

Were you busy with something and he overreacted?

Did you not enjoy tonight as much as it seemed and wanted to distance yourself?

The last one worried Shoto, but he knew how genuine you were, knew that if you didn’t enjoy yourself, it would have been written all over your face. He also knew you would have let him down gently when he asked you to be his girlfriend, sparing his feelings but being honest about yours. It wasn’t like you to lie for someone else’s benefit. Shoto couldn’t stop his body from fidgeting as he waited for the elevator to rise to your floor, pushing the button a couple more times than necessary which made him feel better. When he got to your floor and walked the short distance to your apartment door, he tried to think of something to say to you about his texts if you hadn’t seen them yet. That he was sorry for showing up and bothering you, but he had to know you were okay.

Shoto gave a couple of knocks, but on the third knock your door pushed open a few inches. That set his whole body on high alert because you never left your door unlocked, even when you were just running down the hall to give or get something from your neighbor - he made a joke about it to you once and you said you did it out of habit, afraid the one time you didn’t someone would sneak in. He couldn’t disagree with you there, having a few years under his belt as working hero and a child of Japan’s current number one left him with a clearer understanding of the world and how bad things can happen so suddenly out of nowhere.

He never joked about it with you again, just praised you for your forethought.

Shoto stepped inside to see your purse sitting on your entryway table. Your coat and hat you wore tonight were hung on hooks on the opposite wall as he called your name out into your apartment but was met with complete silence. He saw the shoes you wore tonight knocked over like you either took them off in a hurry or tripped over them on the way back out your apartment. Shoto didn’t take his off as he stepped up further into your apartment and took in the state of things. Your living room wasn’t necessarily messy, but Shoto had gotten to know your habits over the last few weeks with you, knowing that you wouldn’t leave things this way. Your electric kettle was out, a cup with a teabag untouched on the counter; Shoto walked over to press his fingertips to the kettle to notice it was barely above room temperature having sat untouched for too long now.

“[Name]?” Shoto called out again into the silent apartment, only the echo of his voice coming back to him. Shoto walked toward your bathroom where he saw the light on and could smell the fresh scent of your shampoo that he became familiar with. A favorite scent and he loved to press his nose against the crown of your head when you hugged him, pressing a soft kiss there as he memorized the way you smelt and felt against him. Shoto shook his head, shaking the memory out with it as he pushed open the bathroom door. “[Name]? Are you in here?” Shoto couldn’t hear the water running so he didn’t want to run the risk of walking in on you in any state of undress or startle you as he pushed the door completely open.

Things were in the bathroom left like you had just wrapped up a shower, a dampness still hung in the air but no steam remained in the air. Shoto turned and moved to your bedroom, a place he had been only once when you invited him over and you both ended up curled up together as you fell asleep watching a movie. He walked through the threshold of the open door, and the sight is what made his blood run cold. His eyes were trained to pick up on certain things, and this room was screaming signs of a struggle everywhere Shoto’s eyes landed. He saw your house slippers on opposite sides of the room, things were knocked off your dresser and vanity, a couple of noted heavier objects were thrown to the floor, presumably when you tried to use them as a weapon... or they were used against you.

Shoto swallowed the hard lump down in his throat, panic swelling in his chest as he took photos on his phone of the whole apartment as it was, he called your mom and informed her of what he believed to have happened - informed her to call the police but let them know that he would be working on this as well, and to contact his father. Shoto’s fingers swiped a quick couple of times before holding the phone to his ear.

“Shoto,” Endeavor’s deep baritone could be heard on the other end, “is everything alright?” After the recent events, and Endeavor’s new journey into being a less shitty person he was more worried when his children reached out, as they rarely did so before except for Fuyumi.

“Dad,” Shoto was barely conscious of him using that term, but Endeavor shot up where he was seated, already hurrying out of the agency at his son’s use of the term.

Something was wrong.

A message notification pinged on Shoto’s phone; he could hear Endeavor’s voice shouting on the other end as he pulled it away from his ear to see your name pop up on the notifications up top. He hurriedly pulled it up to see a video attachment, and wondered why you would send a video instead of replying to his texts and letting him know you were okay. He opened the attachment and wasn’t sure what he was looking at, at first, and then his breath caught in his throat, feeling like he was drained of all blood as he ran cold at what he was looking at. He could see your face, albeit bloodied and streaked with dirt and tears, you were completely naked, and he could see what looked like bruises or dirt at first, when a hand came into the view of the camera that he recognized. Long, slender fingers of pale porcelain that cut off into necrotic skin, the gleam of the staples an all too telling sight.

Dabi.

Touya-nii.

He recognized the marks on your chest as handprints now, handprints that were burned into your flesh. He watched with wide, horrified eyes as the camera panned down as the hand trailed your body, Shoto watching as you tried feebly to flinch away from the touch. Watched as the shot ended with the sight of a cock buried within you, a pinkish mixture of blood and cum staining your thighs. Shoto could hear your cries, see your body convulse with the sobbing as he heard a familiar voice cut in

“I hope you don’t mind, little brother,” Dabi’s familiar drawl came over the audio as Shoto watched on, sick to his stomach as he saw Dabi’s hips begin to push forward and pull back as his cock slid in and out of you, streaks of red and sticky, translucent slick and white mixing along the length and at the base of his cock as he did so. “I wanted to keep it all in the family, y’know? Our little sister here, she’s a little weak in my opinion, you deserve someone who matches your strength don’t you think?” A slap could be heard as your cracked voice shrilled and broke into more sobbing as Shoto heard another loud smack! and he couldn’t swallow down the bile rising in his throat. He threw his phone down and ran to the bathroom where he threw up in the toilet, his body shaking as he could hear you cry out from the video still playing before he heard a See you soon, little brother before the audio went silent. Shoto spit into the toilet before standing up again, flushing and running cold water into his mouth and splashing even more on his face. He heard the phone ringing from your bed, and was frozen until the melodic chime cut off, only to begin again. He was able to drag his feet across the hallway and looked down at the screen where he saw Endeavor’s photo and ID come on the screen. He forgot he had called his father earlier, before receiving that message, and picked up again.

“Shoto! Tell me what’s wrong,” Endeavor sounded panicked although anyone from the outside wouldn’t be able to tell.

Shoto could.

“Touy-” Shoto stopped himself, “Dabi.”

“Did you run into him, or the League? Tell me where you are!” Shoto could hear a car start up as he was heading in Shoto’s direction. His father had insisted on enabling location tracking for safety and for once he didn’t disagree.

“No,” Shoto managed to get out, choking on the knot of fear lodged in his throat. “I’m at [Name]’s apartment, I’ll text you the address. I have her mom calling the police as well. Dad,” he drew in a ragged breath, clenching his eyes shut as he tried to calm himself and get the visual of your battered body out of his mind. “Dabi took her, and he’s...” Shoto couldn’t hear what else Endeavor said, but it wasn’t long before the police arrived, and Endeavor shortly after. Shoto sent over the initial photos he took of the apartment, and his father and the lead detective watched the video with hard faces, the disgust and discomfort evident in their expressions. Shoto was seated on your bed after the investigators were done collecting any evidence they could find, holding a small puppy plushie he got for you from a claw machine on one of your guys’ lunch dates. Endeavor came in the room, seeing his son in such a sorry state knowing it was his own mistakes that led them to this point, but now wasn’t the time to grieve over his wrongdoings, right now his son needed his support. Endeavor placed a large hand on Shoto’s shoulder, a hopefully reassuring gesture.

“The detectives are looking into tracing her phone right now and trying to gather clues from the room the video was shot in,” Endeavor didn’t know how else to offer comfort to his son, so he only gave him the facts as they are in the moment. “They’re going to be conducting interviews in the building around the time you suspected she should’ve arrived home last night, and they want you to forward any further communication you may receive...” Endeavor’s voice trailed off, watching as Shoto flinched at the idea of receiving anything else from his villainous brother.

“Thanks, Endeavor,” Shoto managed out, and it relieved Endeavor a bit to hear him speak. He wanted to be called Dad again, but that was an issue for another time... perhaps another lifetime.

Shoto remained sat on your bed until the detectives finished up their work, he asked if he would be able to clean up the mess for you and they agreed, the pitiful smile on one of the detectives faces eluding Shoto’s gaze as they all took their supplies with them, and after Endeavor said he would allocate some Pros, sidekicks and other resources to finding you, he left the apartment as well. Shoto began his task of cleaning for you. Fist he gathered all of the things that were out of place and put them back where they belonged, he put away your kettle and teacup, throwing away some trash and wiping down some surfaces to keep his mind off of this whole situation. He felt so helpless, so useless - feeling such foreign emotions left him confused and angry.

Shoto’s phone pinged again, and he froze. He glanced at the screen to see your name previewed in the notification with a photo attachment. This couldn’t keep happening while he sat around and sulked, he had to do everything he could to find you.

Shoto clicked on the notification, and then pressed your contact before putting the phone to his ear. It rang one, twice, three, four times before the phone picked up. Shoto could make out someone breathing before he heard your ear-piercing scream. “Dabi,” Shoto all but growled out only to be met with an amused chuckle on the other end. “I am going to find you, and I am going to kill you. If you lay another finger on her...!” the line went dead, and two more pings were heard from the device in Shoto’s shaking hand.

He opened the attachments to see one photo of your bruised and bloodied face, cheeks squished between Dabi’s thumb and pointer finger in a crushing grip, your eyes were teary and red.

The second photo was a close up of the burns on your chest, soft skin and pebbled nipples in contrast to the marks that littered your skin, bite marks, but the real horror was the blackened, peeling skin blistered and bloodied in the shape of large palm prints in the way they cupped your breasts.

The sight make Shoto’s stomach turn, swallowing down the acid and bile that rose up into his mouth before opening the third attachment and seeing a scarred hand taking up most of the shot, long fingers spreading your pussy lips to capture the perfect moment a blood-pink-tinged glob of cum was seeping out of you.

Shoto wanted to crush his phone in his hands with the fiery rage that filled his whole body, quirk heating up the left side of his body as his rage grew. He couldn’t break the device, however, because it was his only tie to you. He resolved to go back to his place, happy with how he straightened up the mess that was created - he didn’t want you to come back to any reminders of this time, though the mental scars he knew you were already developing would need support to heal. He wanted to bring you back safely, back to him.

Shoto left your apartment, locking the door behind him with the key left on your entryway table by your purse. He resolved to give it back to you when you returned safely to him.

You felt drained. Your body was aching everywhere, burning in the places where Dabi paid closer attention to cause extra harm; the bites, the burns, where his unprepped entry left you feeling torn in half as he rammed himself inside of you, three times now that you recalled. Before he exited the room, nearly leaving the room with you simply restrained to his bed, but stopped at the doorway and turned around, a sick, curious smile on his face as he set the phone in his hand down atop a dresser - your phone.

Your mouth went dry wondering what he was doing with your phone.

Taunting Shoto pretending to be you, or letting him in on it being him behind the screen? Or worse... you thought about the photos and videos he’s taken of you, bile rising in your throat as you imagined Shoto seeing any of it, but your anxious train of thought was interrupted with Dabi’s full attention back on you.

“Can’t just leave you alone while I take care of business, now can I doll?” You tried to watch what he was doing but the pain increased the more you tried to glance and watch him gather some things from around the room. Dabi had undone the bindings keeping you in place on the bed, only to flip you on your stomach and bind your arms behind your back tighter than before, attaching those bindings to a pulley you didn’t know was above his bed as one end of the rope kept you up by your arms and the other... the other you turned your head to watch in abject panic at the sight before you. Dabi was holding a large metal hook, a hook that was thick and curved and at the end where normally a terrifying sharp point would be there was a large, tapered ball. The grin on Dabi’s face was enthralled as he watched you watch him, eyes wide and panicked. Dabi spit on the end of the ball before he pushed your legs apart, spreading your ass cheeks with his hand only to spit there, too, and with one cruel motion he pushed the large ball through the tight ring of resistant muscle as the hook bullied its way into your backside. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, a choked, gargled whimper all that you could manage with your hoarse voice. He attached the other end of the chain attached to your arm bindings to the looped end of the hook, forcing you to balance yourself in a sick stamina game. He wasn’t done, however, as he stroked your cheek with a tenderness he hadn’t yet touched you with, not before wrapping a leather strap around your head attached to a ball gag; only where the typical ball would be to stretch your mouth open there was a large, silicone cock that he shoved into your mouth before you realized what was happening. You gagged and struggled around the intrusion as he secured the clip behind your head and watched as more tears pricked your eyes and the sounds of your choking filled the air. His last parting gift to you was to place a large black box on the bed behind you. You couldn’t bring yourself to turn and see what this contraption was, just listening to the shuffling sounds as Dabi made quick work of whatever it was he was accomplishing behind you until you gagged around the intrusion in your throat in an attempt to force a plea of mercy out of your mouth, with him when you felt a large intrusion breaching your pussy. You heard the click of a button before a whirring, mechanical sound was heard as the object that spread your pussy began to move forward.

The machine began at a slow pace, fucking a horrendously large appendage into your pussy, the speed picking up to a cruel rhythm as you heard the click of a button at least five times. You were crying again, surprised there was any liquid left in your body to give - you couldn’t even be sure you had enough blood in your veins to survive much longer. Every time you tried to shift your body away from the unforgiving onslaught, you were reminded that the front half of you was holding up the back half as the metal ball-hook stuffed in your ass pulled and caused a greater deal of pain.

“Don’t want you getting lonely while I’m gone,” Dabi lent down to kiss your temple before landing a hard smack to your cheek, patting away the sting with a joyful laugh before leaving you alone in the room with nothing but the sounds of your own torture to be heard. You couldn’t fight your body’s natural reactions, however, as th stimulation continued you felt a tight coil in your lower abdomen building up and before long a strong orgasm washed over you and you thrashed and struggled because the machine wasn’t a man - it wouldn’t slow down and be kind to you, it would only fuck you at the same brutal pace through your orgasm and into another, and another before your vision blurred and you may or may not have lost consciousness a time or two, or seven.

You weren’t sure how long Dabi had left you alone in the room being assaulted by his contraptions, all you knew was at some point the machine made a loud clunking sound and the assault stopped, however it stopped on a thrust in and left the large plastic cock lodged in your pussy. Your poor abused pussy that was pulsating and tingling, numb from the countless penetrations and clinging tightly onto the intruding plastic cock almost painfully. You wanted it out of you. You wanted everything fucking out of you! You had long since gotten used to breathing and swallowing around the silicone cock shoved down your throat and found a safe middle ground to balance between your upper body and the hook penetrating your ass. The pull from the hook was becoming more and more painful, but at least if you kept this posture up it wouldn’t cause you anymore undue pain. Suddenly, you couldn’t help the sob that escaped you as a warm liquid ran down your thighs, spraying lewdly around the cock nestled inside of you. You couldn’t remember if this was the first time you had pissed yourself - unsure if you squirted or peed during some of the more extended orgasm periods in the constant assault you went through, frankly the thought being true one way or another didn’t matter - it just disgusted you.

The passage of time became untellable to you, there were no windows to give away the time with natural light, no clocks, no devices, nothing. Dabi had been gone for quite a while, though, that you knew. You found yourself wondering where he had gone, and for how long; looking around to see if there was any way to free you of your binds and protect you as you tried to get out of this room - wherever this was. One of the only things keeping you going instead of giving up was knowing that your mom and Shoto would both be looking for you... if they knew you were missing.

Your emotions ebbed and flowed between hope and anxiety as you tried to reconcile them. Shoto was smart, caring, and attentive; a bit oblivious at times but he wasn’t someone who would let something go.

Something like you telling him you’d text him you were home.

He’s done it before, texted you or called to check in when your approximate time back to your apartment went over, or texting him slipped your mind because something else came up. He always followed up to make sure you were okay - and given the time you’ve been gone he had to know and be looking for you.

He had to know.

Dabi wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave you alone, would he? No, he would definitely leave you alone... but it wasn’t stupidity, it was arrogance. Shoto couldn’t help the incessant bouncing of his leg, couldn’t help the anticipation of seeing if this tip from a member of the public was true. Blue flames were reported just outside of Kiyashi Ward, and some lower villains were reportedly seen lurking around and causing issues. Endeavor and Shoto were on their way to check into report and Shoto couldn’t help but hope to the heavens that it was true.

The train seemed to take forever but it helped that Shoto had other ways of trying to track you down as a way to pass the time better. He refreshed the service map in the hopes a ping from your cellphone would pop up, but so far nothing has shown up. Endeavor watched on as his son focused on the screen in front of him, worry creasing his features as he kept his mouth shut - knowing that nothing could be of comfort, words or otherwise, until Shoto had eyes on you and by the hard-set, murderous looked darkening his face - Dabi’s head on the ground in front of him. As grieved as Endeavor is over the recent revelations of his eldest son he is also hard-pressed to disagree in that regard given Dabi’s numerous crimes. Endeavor’s chest felt heavy, equally guilty for creating this villain, and now this situation that caused pain to his youngest.

Shoto had seen your phone ping on the map earlier, matching up with the time he was sent the additional photos of you, stomach churning at the memory. He swallowed hard, refreshing two more times before slamming his device down against his leg before shoving it back into his pocket. He had notifications on that were attached to an alarm sound if your phone pinged on the map, but he wasn’t one to wait so patiently in a situation like this - he had always counseled his friends on keeping a cool head but he couldn’t even do that himself. Shoto’s gaze was ripped away from the floor of the train to a few miles south of the city where he saw an unmistakable icy blue blaze flash and disappear. Shoto shot up out of his seat, electing to head to the furthest rear car, opening the door as his father called out after him only to hear his name shouted as he jumped off the moving train, landing on a nearby platform with a harsh impact.

“Shoto! That was too reckless, we were almost at the station what were you thin-” Endeavor’s tirade was cut short as Shoto pointed south, and in the distance, Endeavor took note of the same thing his son had seen earlier before his unceremonious jump from the train. “Let’s go,” nothing else needed to be said, Shoto was already running ahead of Endeavor, who was on the phone making a quick call. The heavy thud of the duos footfalls were all that could be heard on the quiet streets, the citizens already warned of a villain in the area and to take shelter. Shoto was thankful for that, not ready to focus on minimizing loss of life, or damage, or worrying over someone trying to stop him or his father for a photo or an autograph not knowing there was an emergency just a few blocks away. He couldn’t afford to stop when you were suffering somewhere, and it was his fault. He loved you so much already, but he is now the sole cause of the torture you’re experiencing now - all because of his fucked up family. How could he ever face you again after this?

“TOOOUUYYA!” Shoto stopped dead at the loud boom of his father’s voice. His eyes scanning around him until he saw a flash of blue and then as the smoke, dust and falling rubble cleared from a building that just took a hit he could see him - see his brother. His blood boiled as his heart sank into his stomach. Shoto could feel the fiery hot burn on his left side, his fingers clenching and unclenching with an ache to punch in his brother’s face until it was unrecognizable.

“Awe, if it isn’t dear ole Dad,” Dabi chuckled, his voice carrying across the distance between them, “and little Shoto tagged along too, hm? I would think you’d be at home touching yourself to the sweet little videos I made for you - [Name]... she has such a tight little-” a roaring blaze of flame shot toward Dabi, causing him to have to jump out of the way last minute, the edges of his coat burning a moment before the wind from his jump snuffed it out.

“Where is she, Dabi!” Shoto was screaming that same sentence over and over, blasting waves of flame and ice toward his elder brother each time he was met with a psychotic laugh, a taunt, or anything that wasn’t your location. Shoto went to turn and face his father, getting ready to shout a plan of attack but saw the Pro was unmoving behind him, hurriedly whisper-shouting into the receiver of his cell and looking up just in time to see Shoto’s fiery disposition as he shouted for assistance.

“Get your head in the fight, Endeavor!” Shoto all but growled out, catching the end of Endeavor’s phone conversation.

“-out of there, now! We’ll handle this!” Endeavor shoved his phone into his pocket, quirk igniting his body as he shot forward into the fight with Shoto - both of them going full-force at the estranged Todoroki son.

A glorious moment of keen-eye clarity had you recalling Dabi leaving your phone on the dresser by the door. Though your vision was blurred you could make out the length of the slim device, the scant hope left in your mind at your phone being turned on, or even charged as you tried to shout out across the room.

Your mind began to wonder at how you could possibly access the device, there was no way for you to try to fruitlessly shout Hey Siri! with the damnable gag in your mouth. A fresh wave of tears pricked at your burning eyes as a sickening thought crossed your mind. The plan forming in your head was bleak at best, but if it worked it would help aide in your rescue - or kill you - either way, an escape. You used your tongue to shift around the silicone cock lodged in your throat, painfully stretching your jaw so you could angle your teeth down, sinking into the pliant material as a chunk of it loosened from the shaft, falling loosely in the space against your cheek. You forced yourself to swallow down the vile plastic, gagging on the resistance it put up. Again, again, and again. Chunk after disgusting chunk until you had taken down enough of the gag to use your tongue to force the rest of it from your mouth, spit and specks of shredded silicone sticking to your chin.

“Hey Siri-” your voice was so hoarse you don’t think your phone’s AI assistant would even catch it if it was on. You swallowed the meager amount of saliva you had collected beneath your tongue, coughing and cleaning the spiderweb feeling in the back of your throat, and swallowing down the knot that was created after your idiotic plan.

Idiotic you thought, but successful.

“Hey Siri!” You managed to force your voice out loud enough, clear enough, that when you heard the soft melodic ding! of your AI assistant lighting up your screen ready for a direction, you wanted to start sobbing all over again. “Call work!”

Ring... ring...

Ring...

“Endeavor Agency, how may I-” you couldn’t waste battery life on niceties.

“P-please,” you managed out loud enough for the receiver to pick up. “Please connect me with Kido!” The secretary sensing the urgency didn’t push for more detail as she managed to connect you through to the phone of one of the sidekicks at Endeavor’s agency you became friends with. You were acquainted with most everyone at the agency, but Shoto introduced you to the Flaming Sidekickers and Kido quickly took to you.

“This is Kido,” the smooth voice came from the other end, you really wanted to just cry at this plan having worked, but there wasn’t time.

“Kido,” you managed out, and it’s all you got out before the hero was shouting away from the receiver that he had you on the phone and you could hear a bunch of screaming all around him.

“[Name]!” Kido’s normally quiet voice booming over the phone and filling up the room with its echoes. “[Name] where the Hell are you? Are you okay? We’ve been trying to reach you for-”

“Kido please,” you pleaded, “I don’t know how much battery this phone has, I’m not even physically holding it. Please. Can you find my location?” Kido reassured you that they had been waiting for your cellphone to be used so they could further triangulate your location, having it turned on only led them to a large expanse of city where you could have been. “Kido, something else...” your voice trailed off as your weight shifted, causing a painful chain reaction with your aching, bound limbs and the anal hook that was still holding your backend up. “Please bring Moe, please only have her come in and find me. Please.” Kido didn’t push that issue further hearing your voice, only agreeing before saying he had your location and they were on their way to you. He promised they would see you soon, they were only a short distance away. You wanted to stay on the phone with them but didn’t want to risk running the battery down in case you needed it for anything, didn’t want to run the risk of Dabi coming back hearing you calling for help.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, didn’t know if you had passed out or simply zoned out of your mind until you heard shuffling outside of the door. Your whole body tensed up with the possibility of it being Dabi returning from wherever the hell he went, before your colleagues could find you.

“[Name]?” The familiar voice of Moe came through the door, you could turn your head just enough to see the door being pushed open, and the sight of the flaming-haired girl stepping through, her eyes widening in horror at seeing your predicament before yelling something behind her and slamming the door. “Hold tight, let me help you out of this...” the normally boisterous girl was quiet and focused, hands steady as she traced over you gently, trying to figure out where to start in helping you down. “I’m going to release your arms first, there might be some pain when your body drops but we’ll get the rest out right now, I promise.” Her touch was gentle as she unhooked the chain holding your bound arms, the top half of your body dropping, causing a tug to the anal hook that had you choking on a cry, before Moe continued to comfort you, stating she was going to be removing both the anal hook and the dildo attached to the machine. The pull-out of the objects was almost as agonizing as when they went in. Your pussy was sore, gaping and pulsing around nothing after so long of having been stuffed to the brim. The soft pop of the anal hook coming out gave you both relief and another round of pain - but it was over... this all was going to be over.

Moe then worked on undoing the bindings that held onto the rest of your body until you were stripped bare. Moe rushed around the room, finding suitable clothes in the form of a black t-shirt and black sweatpants. Dabi’s, no doubt. You weren’t going to complain about being in anything that had anything to do with him, you just wanted to be covered and out of this nightmare.

Moe had called for the others to come in now, and you saw Kido holding a cellphone to his ear, having pulled it away quickly when you heard the booming voice of Endeavor on the other end.

“Get her out of there now! We’ll handle this!” Kido only agreeing quickly before hanging up, looking over at you with relieved eyes. Relief quickly changing to a horrified emotion when his sight darted around the room, at the bindings and sex toys, at the way Moe held you upright with a strength that was supportive but soft enough to not put any undue pressure on you. The way your fingers curled into the clothing you were wearing, holding the fabric away as if you didn’t want it touching you.

“C’mon,” Kido’s voice was a gentle monotone, comforting. “We have an unmarked vehicle waiting to get you to a private rehabilitation center.”

“Shoto-” you tried to speak out but your throat was tight and dry. “I-is Shoto?”

“He’s okay,” Moe spoke as she lifted you up carefully, but had to set you back down as your legs gave way. “He and Endeavor are currently fighting with Dabi on the other side of the city. They will meet up with us when they wrap up his capture.” Kido stepped forward to pick you up bridal style, maneuvering you out of the room carefully to not knock any part of you on a wall, or threshold. The heroes made their way out of the rundown building, carefully putting you into a blacked-out SUV and tore off away from the building.

“We’re getting you back home, the drive won’t be too long but please let us know if you’re in too much pain to continue travelling,” Kido was driving, looking back at you in the rearview mirror as Moe held you in her arms.

“I’ll be okay,” you managed out, before succumbing to an uncomfortable sleep.

Beep.

Beep, beep.

Beep.

Your eyelids felt heavy, impossible to open as your consciousness came back to you. The sticky glue of sleep caked in your lashes with tears as you forced them open, burning from the contact with the bright fluorescent light and sterilized air. The gentle beeping of your heart monitor, and the mechanical humming coming from the I.V. fluid machine on a timed drip were the only sounds aside from a gentle breathing to be heard in your room.

Breathing?

You glanced around the large room until your eyes landed on one of the large guest chairs pushed against the wall near the window where a sleeping Shoto was hunched over, head slipping out of his hands as his body gently jolted with his breathing and the myoclonic jerks of his body.

Fresh tears pricked your eyes as you watched him breathe. He was here, in front of you. He was alive, and he was here with you. If he was here with you... Dabi had to be in jail - right?

Your whole body jumped as the sliding door to your room opened, your attention ripping away from Shoto as a doctor trailed by Endeavor and a nurse came into the room. Endeavor’s imposing form filling up the space, menacing in his size even when he wasn’t trying to be imposing. Shoto finally shot up, eyes scanning the intruders until they shot over to you, wet with tears that spilled over onto his cheeks.

“Miss [last name], glad to see you awake today.” The doctor spoke clinically to you, allowing the nurse to perform a blood pressure check, adjust your I.V. fluids, and assess your body’s physical condition. “You underwent a minor surgery to remove some foreign object from your stomach, we also had one of our in-house quirk users heal the severe internal trauma you suffered, you’ll feel a pretty deep ache, but you should have a full recovery,” the doctor trailed off turning to the nurse behind him as she stepped forward, telling you about mental health counselling they offer here in their facility. You simply nodded, not bothering to look up into anyone's eyes as they droned on and on about your recovery, how you should be totally fine after some bedrest.

You just nodded along to her handing you a release form, watching as she pulled the I.V. needle from your arm. Looking down at the form as your vision blurred in and out until a gentle touch woke you up from your wandering thoughts. You glanced up to see Shoto smiling down at you, the subtle upturn of his lips reassuring you. You signed the release, and the nurse left the room shortly after Endeavor and the doctor had stepped out a few moments earlier.

“[Name]... I’m so-I’m so sorry,” Shoto’s words got caught in his throat, choking on the weight of reality that couldn’t be erased with a simple apology. His trembling hands were attempting to hold yours, but their grip began to slip as his shoulders shook with the sobs wracking his body. Your hands squeezed around his reassuringly as he looked up at you with wide, watery eyes.

“Shoto this isn’t yo-” he cut you off.

“Don’t say this isn’t my fault,” he ground out between clenched teeth, “you were hurt because of your connection to me and my family - it is only my fault. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you before any of it happened, I’m sorry I can’t undo any of it.” Shoto continued to cry, unable to look at you as you tugged on his hands, pulling on his arms until he got the message that you wanted him on the bed with you. He rested on his side as you pulled him into your arms, resting his cheek against your chest as he calmed his breathing to the sound of your heart. Your still-beating heart. He was so grateful you were physically here in front of him now, but it didn’t stop the unending waves of guilt and shame that he couldn’t do anything against his brother, couldn’t do anything to protect you when being with him put you in the sights of so many villains.

“Shoto, wanna go home,” you whispered against his soft hair, words mumbled from your lips pressing against the top of his head. He simply nodded.

“D-did you want to go back to your apartment? Or you can come stay with me... or we can put you up in a new condo in the meantime if you don’t want to do either of those,” Shoto was shooting off a few suggestions, but you just wanted to go back to your familiar bed. As many new, awful memories lived there it was still your place of comfort - for now.

“I’d like to go back to my apartment for now,” you relented, and he looked up into your eyes from his position resting against you, a frown deepening on his face. “I’ll consider moving to a new place with better security soon but for now I just want the comfort of familiarity.”

“I’ve already arranged an extended paid leave from work for you, you can take as little or as much time as you want,” he stood up from the bed, gathering what little he had in the room with him before extending a small bag your way. “I didn’t think you’d want to wear the hospital gown home, so I got something simple.” You peeked in the bag and saw a casual black jersey dress, soft and flowy against your fingertips as you touched the fabric. “I thought you’d want something soft and easy,” his nervous mumbling was endearing as you stood from the bed with his help, gripping onto his forearms as he let you use him to gain strength standing.

“It’s perfect, Sho,” you managed a smile, “I’m gonna get changed, I’ll meet you outside in a couple of minutes?” He nodded and took his stuff, leaving the room with the quiet sliding of the door before a soft click sounded. You pulled out the dress and pulled it over your head, the silken fabric falling to your mid-calf and in the bottom of the bag you noted some all-black slip-on canvas shoes. It was small things like this that made you smile so much - this was similar to the outfit you picked out the first day you met Shoto officially, the day you ran into each other that started this relationship. Being back in these clothes spread a wave of butterflies across your whole body and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

You gathered the paperwork you were given, opting to leave the clothes you were rescued in - they were his any severing any connection to him seemed like the right thing to do. You didn’t want to wear or own anything that was ever his. You stepped out of the room to see Shoto pacing a little, smiling when he saw you exit and extending his hand for you to take. You gladly did, allowing him to pull you closely into his side as he led you out of the clinic and into a waiting company vehicle. You were thankful for the blacked-out windows of the SUV, finding the brightness of the sun uncomfortable, as well as the sight of anyone’s eyes lingering on you too long. Shoto leaned away from you for a second before pulling out your cellphone from his pocket.

“I cleaned it of everything that you didn’t already have on it,” Shoto’s words hooked into your skin. Nothing you didn’t already have on it? So Dabi did use your phone for something.

“Did Dab-” you couldn’t manage to say his name. “Did he send you... I know he took photos, Sho, did he-” you couldn’t get your thoughts out, afraid of the answer.

“Would knowing the truth help you right now?” He asked, simple.

“Yes,” you answered back, barely a whisper. “I think it would.”

“Yes,” he answered back. “He sent me some taunts over text, as well as photos and videos of you in compromising positions. There are no existing copies of the photos or videos, they were briefly used by the detectives to gather location information from the backend of the photos, but those were confirmed deleted, and they were observed during their investigation to ensure nothing slipped through the cracks,” Shoto was clinical in his answer to you which you appreciated. You didn’t want to be babied at this moment. You just gave a brief nod before leading your body into Shoto, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer into his side as the car took you both back to your apartment.

Once arrived Shoto followed you up, asking to enter first just in case anything was missed by the detectives as he scanned your apartment for signs anyone but you had been inside, deeming it good enough for you to come further into your apartment. Shoto watches as your eyes moved around the familiar space with uncertainty, he wanted to hold you in his arms and take you back to his home, but he knew that wasn’t what you wanted.

“I can stay on the couch if you like,” Shoto offered, met with your shaking head and sad smile.

“I appreciate it Shoto, so much,” you assured him, leading him back to the door. “Text me when you get home safely yeah? I think I’m going to shower, have some tea and try to get some sleep.” You lent up on your tippy toes to place a soft peck on Shoto’s lips, and he hummed against the kiss, pressing into you for a second longer before you pulled away. “Thank you for fighting for me, Sho, we can talk more tomorrow, okay?” He simply nodded, giving the hand he had clasped around yours a soft squeeze as he left out your door, and down to the waiting car.

You let yourself stand in your entryway for some time after Shoto left. Letting the silence of your apartment settle into your bones before you finally decided to move to your bathroom, stripping the dress from your body as you looked in the mirror. There was a faint healed white scarring in the shape of two large handprints still beneath your bust, the sight made you physically ill.

Something new to get used to.

You fell back into your normal routine, taking your time to pamper yourself in the shower and stepping out into the steam, wrapping yourself in a fresh, fluffy towel before crossing the hallway into your room. You went into a familiar drawer and pulled out an old t-shirt and shorts. Everything was so familiar to you but felt so far away... so foreign. You fell into your bed, pulling up the covers as you drifted off into a dreamless sleep, having forgotten all about your tea or waiting up for Shoto’s text.

Back in the SUV, Shoto was feeling relieved but couldn’t stop the anxious jump of his leg. He wanted to stay with you, wanted to soothe the sharp edges of your experience and talk things over with you. He wanted to be there for you, but he also respected your wishes to be alone and reset in your own space. He finally resigned himself, sitting back in the seat as his body relaxed more. He would ask to see you tomorrow, and you could start from there. Just when he was nearly lost in a daydream his phone began to vibrate, going to pick it up thinking it was you until he saw his dad’s number. Shoto hesitated, almost not picking up before he just pressed answer and put the phone to his ear.

“Endeavor,” Shoto’s voice was a flat monotone as he waited for the reason for the late-night call.

“Shoto there’s an issue,” Endeavor hurried out, “the guards at the holding facility with Touya said he’s no longer there, there was some ectoplasmic sludge left in his wake - the detective thinks it was one of Twice’s clones.” Shoto didn’t hesitate to scream at the driver to take him back to your apartment, his father’s loud voice screaming from the receiver for him as he hung up the call. Shoto wasted no time in trying to call you with no answer. He shot you a text to call him as soon as you got his message and kept trying to call you again.

A harsh banging on your door jolted you from your sleep. You blinked a few times, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you noticed your clock saying it was only about forty minutes from when you first laid down. The banging continued until you got up, shuffling to your front door before peeking through the peephole but seeing no one. An acrid smell assaulted your nostrils and you saw a grey haze that had you worried there was a fire, and someone had just come down the hallways warning everyone. You pulled your door open to find the hallway empty and no obvious signs of a fire, no one was making a fuss and there wasn’t an alarm. It was when you went to shut your door that your blood ran cold - there on your door was a blackened handprint, still steaming and hot to the touch. You slammed your door shut quickly, locking the deadbolt and the knob as you stumbled back from the door. You turned around and ran to your room, hearing the chime of your cellphone before it quickly cut off.

You froze in the doorway, in the dimness of your room there was a brilliant electric blue light - flame - and an unmistakable silhouette with your cellphone to his ear, a familiar voice chilling you to the core as goosebumps spread across your body.

“Sorry little brother,” Dabi couldn’t hide the jovial tone, each word punctuated with a bit of laughter. “Our little sister can’t come to the phone right now.”

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quixoticall · 4 months ago

Text

To Hell I Go

MASTERLIST

Suggested Listening: Anything Zach Bryan but particularly, "Something in the Orange", “Open the Gate”, and "I Remember Everything"

Chapter Warnings: Gun violence, injury, some light death ideation, Billy is here, death of an animal

WC: 2.8K

Author's Note: Hello! It's been a while! Please know I'm working on TCGU! But I've been really inspired by Zach Bryan recently and this concept of the Final Girl of the West which is how this idea was born. I hope you like it!

_______________

“Sheriff Hopper’s after us. Has his new Pretty Boy deputy with him too.”

The sun is high and bright and bothersome but you’ve been on a job for the last month, which paints everything bothersome, even Max’s warning.

“Didn’t know Hopper was working with anyone,” you muse, as you dismount your horse, Calliope, and hand the young girl the reigns. Your muscles are stiff and achy from riding so long and you smell like a manure pit. You desperately want a proper bed—or a shallow grave—to fall into.

“He’s new. Hops probably needs the help on account of his leg being fucked up since you shot him,” Max responds, admiration tinging her voice.

You scoff, “I didn’t fuck up his leg, he’s just old and fat.”

You had barely even grazed him.

“Pretty Boy, huh? I’m sure your brother is seething about that.”

Max glares at you through her lashes, “he’s not my brother,” she warns.

You know this, of course, you’re just in a bad mood and looking for a bruise to poke. You should probably apologize but Max’ll get her lick back soon enough—it’ll be easy with you, too. You’re all bruise.

“Billy hates him, already ran into him and the Chief in Amarillo. Came home all black and blue from their scuffle, ended up running him off the trail and he fell off his horse.”

You whistle lowly, knocking Billy Hargrove off his horse is no easy feat. He must’ve been angry after that.

“He said that they had a list of all the gang’s members. Not our names or nothing, just descriptions, I guess. Apparently, Hopper has you on the list as ‘crack shot girl’. ”

You drink this information up, eyes scanning the horizon, half expecting Billy or Hopper or even Creel to spring out any moment. Nothing but the wind through the grass, though.

“What does he have you as?” You probe.

Max nearly pouts in response, “Red.”

You’re trying not to laugh, and instead grapple to change the subject.

“What about the ‘Pretty Boy’ deputy? Does he have a name?”

You don’t care too much, you want to keep the conversation going, it’s the only real one you’ve had in weeks.

“Heard it was Harrington or something like that,” Max shrugs, quickly losing interest in favor of brushing Calliope’s mane.

It has to be “something like that”, you decide, because you knew for a fact there wasn’t a single Harrington west of the Appalachians. There hadn’t been in years.

_______________

Steve Harrington was the first in his family to leave Wyoming in thirteen generations. It wasn’t by choice.

Steve’s daddy had been a cattle rancher. He hadn’t owned any land like yours had but he was the best bull rider in all the West. That was, until his fatal fall off the saddle when Steve was barely old enough to ride himself.

The heartbreak of her true love’s death had made a ghost of Steve’s mama, effectively making him an orphan.

He was thirteen when he had come to your Daddy’s ranch, threadbare hat clutched tightly in his fists nervously as he asked for work.

You were twelve then and watched the whole exchange from the top of the stairs with your sisters, the three of you drinking him in with an odd curiosity. He had been all limbs back then, thin and awkward but as tall as a man. His face was uncreased and fearful, giving away his true age. You listened, unseen as the young boy stuttered through an explanation of his pitiful circumstances.

He wasn’t looking for charity, he made a point to specify, but work. He could ride and wrangle and he knew how to work the land, too, he explained, chest puffing with pride. He would earn his keep, he propositioned.

The ranch was always in need of hands, and your father was always benevolent to necessary causes and in circumstances that made him seem like a better man than he was, so it was a done deal before night’s end.

_______________

“Son of a bitch,” you exhale through gritted teeth, desperately trying to reload your goddamn shotgun.

It was supposed to be an easy enough job—a little stagecoach stick up right outside of Tombstone. You had been scoping the target for days, a miner and his family making their way back East after striking it big in the mines. They were obnoxiously flagrant about their wealth—just like all New Money—and it was obvious that they were traveling with their coffers full of that fine California Gold. The plan was that you, Billy, and Tommy would ambush their stagecoach sometime around twilight before they reached Tombstone proper but then Max had decided to tag along and, while she was your favorite member of the gang by miles, she had no place at an armed robbery.

The whole operation was slowed down to accommodate the tagalong and suddenly it had become too dark and late to hit them before they arrived in Tombstone, so you had to adjust and hedge your bets on ambushing them when they left the small town the following morning. Someone must have recognized the crew that night and tipped off the sheriff, though, because next thing you know, the four of you are about to run the stagecoach off the trail when you hear gunshots and Hopper’s gruff demands for your surrender.

There goes that easy $800, you sigh to yourself, steadying your aim over your shoulder. You’re a lousy shot at this angle especially while riding a horse, but you’re not hoping for a miracle, only to distract long enough to give Max a chance to get away. She’s the slowest of the four and you refuse to leave her behind. (Even if all of this is kind of her fault.)

On the opposite side of the road from behind the stagecoach, you see a sharp movement— the deputy, you’re sure. From the corner of your eye you catch fragments of familiar hair, eyes, lips and suddenly your finger slips on the trigger, a stray bullet flies behind you, spooking a horse and causing some commotion. You hope it’s Hopper’s but you can’t bring yourself to check. You can’t bring yourself to do anything. At all. Because there, on the other side of the road, all tan skin and freckled-faced is Steve Harrington, alive and older and looking at you with an expression of shock matching your own.

“Sunshine?” He shouts over the gallop of hooves and in hearing his voice you’ve lost all doubt that this was some sort of joke you managed to play on yourself.

It’s him. Truly.

What you say back is lost to the wind as a lone shot rings out and suddenly you’ve lost your balance on your horse and you’re sent tumbling down, fingers fighting for purchase along your reigns.

Steve’s stunned face and the smoke from his gun are the final things you see before hitting the ground.

Son of a bitch.

_______________

You and Steve became fast friends, being close in disposition and most importantly, age.

While you loved your younger sisters they were just that: younger. At six and eight respectively, Hattie and Lottie were far too preoccupied with dress up and tea parties, hobbies that you had also adored at their age, but at the mature age of twelve, no longer stimulated you. In Steve you found a confidant and an accomplice.

You snuck him extra portions at supper and spent your spare moments following him around reading aloud from one of your many books. He had a penchant for war epics and horror while you liked romance and mystery. Both of you could agree, though that Westerns were the best.

In exchange for your generosity, Steve taught you how to ride and shoot and lasso.

He was the best teacher truly and would often outdo men of twice his age and size when it came to rearing and riding. He learned everything from his daddy, he had told you. Steve talked about his father a lot. About what he was like and everything he was exceptional at and how the crowd had gone stone silent when his broken body hit the dusty ground.

“That’s how I’m going to die too, one day,” he had told you, grim but not sad. “On a bull in Cheyenne. Probably the same one, he’s the only one that could take me out.”

“How do you know how you’re gonna die?” You awed at him.

“Just a feeling in my gut. Sometimes you just know,” he shrugged sagely.

You nodded along and tried, desperately so, to will your gut to give you a precognition about the circumstances of your own death.

“I don’t know how I’m gonna die,” you admitted to Steve after a long moment of self-assessment, “but I know you’re gonna be there.“

You had no clue what possessed you to say that other than the fact that you knew it to be categorically true.

Steve smiled in response, pleased.

_______________

You wake up under a sky of pinprick stars. Dreams of childhood vows and muddy fields filled with promise fade as you take in your surroundings.

There’s a fire burning next to you and a sharp pain running along your entire body, burning to match. Max suddenly appears by your side, looking equal measures relieved and frazzled.

“What happened?” You ask weakly.

“Pretty Boy shot Calliope and you fell into the ravine. Had to fish you out of there and find a place to lay you down.”

“What about Billy and Tommy?”

“They left us.”

Of course.

“Bastards.”

“Bastards,” Max agrees.

“And what about the sheriff… and the deputy?”

“Sheriff fell off his horse when you shot him and his deputy went after Billy. Didn’t see where though, but I’m sure he didn’t catch him.”

“Probably not,” you croak before accepting the canteen Max brought to your lips. Billy was a menace on a horse, agile and quick in ways most men could only dream and he already had too much of a head start.

You try to stand up now, too fast evidently, since Max rushes to your side to help you along when you waver. Eventually, you’re on your feet, stumbling forward with only Max keeping you upright, your whole body screaming at you to stop.

“Come on then, Red, let’s go back home.”

Your whole body aches so much your vision blurs and there’s a pain along your ribcage that may hint at a broken bone. The ride back to the Creel House on the back of Max’s scrawny horse is utter agony but at least Max has gifted you a mercifully silent journey by not trying to make conversation.

“You know him,” Max murmurs. It’s nearly morning when she finds enough courage to bring it up.

“Pretty Boy called you ‘sunshine’,” she continues, “I heard him.”

You freeze.

“You must’ve heard wrong then. I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

You leave it at that.

_______________

By the time you were sixteen, you felt like you knew Steve better than you knew yourself. You could read him like a book—every crook of an eyebrow, every sideways glance, and their meaning were neatly categorized in your mind. Part of that was the familiarity bred by endless idle hours together and part of that was the burgeoning ache that had been festering inside of you in the past months; the soft, comforting ember of friendly affection had given way to something hotter, something you couldn’t bring yourself to define yet but singed your skin at the sight of him and made you want to chart his every mood like sailors charted the stars.

This was exactly why you could tell he was upset even though he denied it. Something about the way he clenched his jaw while he aimed his gun at the row of cans sitting on a broke down fence a little too hard indicated that he had something weighing on his mind.

“You’re meant to hit the targets, you know,” you goaded after he had missed all of five shots.

His jaw clenched harder.

“You can’t be cross just because I’m the better shot than you,” you needled further.

“I’m not cross,” he argued back, crossly.

“Yes, you are! You’ve been sullen and cross three weeks now even though you say otherwise and it’s driving me mad so, why don’t you stop being stubborn and tell me what it is that’s making you act like this and we can fix it and be back to normal. I don’t want to spend my last week here watching you pout all over the ranch.”

He sighed a drawn-out, guttural thing, and then suddenly, it hit you.

“Wait, are you mad I’m leaving?” Your tone wasn’t accusatory as much as it was curious. Truthfully, when your parents had share the news that they were sending you to a finishing school, you had been devastated at the prospect but you tried your best to keep your true feelings from view. Your father had made it known that he had gone to great lengths to secure your spot and your momma got misty eyed when she spoke about how many doors this opportunity would open for you.

“No, I’m not mad you’re leaving,” he argued back and flinched at how unconvincing he sounded. You knew deep in your bones that you'd miss Steve the most when you were gone. No matter how fair you'd go or how'd long you'd be apart, you're sure you'd miss Steve.

“Steve, you know I’d rather be here, shooting cans than anywhere else, even that fancy school,” you cajole. It's a simple, earnest statement but as far as you could trust yourself saying without confessing your devotion.

“You say that now,” he petulantly threw himself down on a tree root and you moved to sit next to him, “but as soon as you make friends and meet new people, I’ll be dust.”

You laughed at the uncharacteristic display of self-pity. “You really think I’d find someone I would love more than you?”

The idea of it was so ludicrous you didn’t even realize the carelessness by which you threw out such hefty claims of affection. Of course, you loved Steve and he you, and while you were never scared to voice that to each other before, now the word meant something different—at least to you it did.

Your eyes shift down to your boots, hoping he didn’t pick up on the change in your heart.

“Not more, just different.”

“Different how?”

“You're going to find someone,” it was his turn to get flustered and glanced at the ground, “... someone you want to spend the rest of your life with.”

“Well, I want that to be you,” you responded, not thinking and far too quickly.

“No, I mean, someone you want to marry,” he spits out, exasperation being quickly replaced with embarrassment as his words sank into place.

You stalled at the implication your heartbeat becoming almost deafening. Steve was afraid you were going to go out and find someone else to marry and leave him behind. Was it possible that he was equally consumed by that same burning affection that had been sieging your heart for months?

Out of the two of you, you had always been the braver one. The one that always jumped in first, the one to take a risk on a whim. And, while it terrified you and made your voice small and wavering, you couldn’t help but say right back, “I want that to be with you, too.”

Steve beamed in response.

_______________

Tommy and Billy had beaten you and Max back to the Creel house. At least the bastards had the decency to look a little ashamed as they watched Max support your limping form through the threshold. Mostly, though they looked surprised.

“Thought the deputy had gotten you,” Billy whistles lowly through the toothpick that is perpetually resting in the corner of his mouth.

“He killed my horse,” you bemoan. “ Max had to fish me out of the ravine on her own, no thanks to you two.”

The blond man shrugs in response, “We couldn’t go back. Thems the rules, you know that.”

You do know that but you are miserable and tired and just looking for someone to blame for the life you had fallen into so you glare back.

Billy is unfazed by your glare and in a rare moment of kindness, offers to acquire a horse for you during his next round through the nearby ranches. This uncharacteristic show of pity makes you realize you probably look as bad as you feel and for a brief moment wish that Max hadn’t pulled you out of that ravine.

You manage to stumble onto your cot, body raked with pain and you lay there, unmoved until night comes and it’s not until the dark has truly settled and you are sure that no one could possibly see, that you begin to cry.

Silent tears stream down your face for your companion, your horse, the last thing you called your own. One more thing stolen away--and this time, by a ghost no less. A gift from your daddy when you had turned seventeen, her name plucked from one of your books on Greek mythology she had been your companion when you had felt most alone.

Calliope was the final reminder of a life long gone and now she’s just another thing you’re left mourning.

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