#the first nightmare it felt like someone sitting on my bed touching me and talking to me

[lilgynt]

me in bed feeling so hopeless it just feels like nothing so honestly i’m chilling

[hoe4sports]

“Love me to my bones”

Alexia Putellas x reader

A/N: Part two of the stargazing series. It’s based off of the song Stargazing by Myles Smith. P3 can be found here. Triggers includes swearing.

-

05.37. There was thunder outside causing you to be held awake. The heavy drumming on your windows definitely didn’t help on your anxiety. You were staring at the clock on your nightstand while your roommates soft snores were lingering in the room. 05.38. More thunder. Four rounds of thunder within one minute. 3 seconds away from you. For a hot second; you thought you had lost all common sense as you tossed yourself back in your bed and covered your head with a pillow. You didn’t just hate thunder, you despised it. It made all the anxiety you had piled up from football shoved underneath the carpet come alive. You weren’t particularly traumatised, but you had been tough on yourself as a kid. It was hard being compared to Alexia all the time, and it ended up with you having to work twice as hard as her. She was a natural, a magician with the ball. You however, were a not so much natural. But hey, you know what they all say; hard work over talent.

The scrutinising buzzing of Claudia’s alarm woke you up at 6. You were two ringings away from chucking your phone at Claudia to wake her up. It was weird staying with anyone else during away-games, but Alexia had requested her own room for the first time since you started playing together as kids. The wish had come up after she’d talk to Olga about her spacing out, only for Olga to blame it on Alexia for being so busy with football and her teammates. You were surprised by how much it hurt to be wrecked for your usual partner, but you accepted it. What hurt was that Alexia hadn’t reached out to you. She didn’t answer your texts, your calls and she hadn’t given you an explanation. Your explanation was made of giving her the benefit of the doubt. That’s why you had been paired with Claudia. Claudia wasn’t the worst person to camp up with, but by the judgment of her alarm; she wasn’t the best either. “Ah, rise and shine! Ready for another day of football?” Claudia sang after she’d turned off the alarm. The look on your face made her jump a little. “Oh my, Y/N, what happened to you?!” Claudia exclaimed dramatically while hopping up from her bed to touch your face and study the tiredness up close. “I couldn’t sleep, the thunder was horrendous” you mumbled as Claudia moved your face around while she fiddled with the visible bags under your eyes. “Ai, I think you’ll need something better than coffee and face cream” she said blatantly causing you to whack her playfully in her thigh. Truth was that Alexia also hates thunder, so you knew that she was awake as well. You would normally sit together during thunderstorms in the nurturing company of each other. You had been each other’s safe space for years on end, sharing all your secrets and worst fears. That time seemed to had come to an end now that Alexia had Olga. 20 years chucked out of the window. The only comfort you had was that you knew Alexia first.

Claudia dragged you along downstairs for breakfast with the rest of the girls. You felt like you had been run over twice and it felt like your brain was about to pound out of your skull. A few of the girls were already downstairs; Ingrid, Mapi, Caroline, Marta, Patri and Irene. You flashed a half assed smile before you grabbed a plate and placed fruit on your plate. The lack of appetite wasn’t because of poor selection in the breakfast buffet; you could never eat properly after having nightmares or not having any sleep. The chair next to Ingrid was empty so you flopped down next to the Norwegian before taking a bite of the watermelon you had picked up. Ingrid was someone you could trust, whom you could rely on. She would never tell anyone and she would never judge. It was surprising to you when she told you that she wasn’t the captain of the Norwegian national team.

«Y/N? You look like someone forced you to do algebra all night!" Mapi exclaimed causing Ingrid to shot her a look. "Uhm, yea. There was thunder so i couldnt sleep" you shrugged while munching on the bright red strawberries you had collected from the buffet. The juiciness was refreshing for your dehydrated body. "Ai, How did Alexia sleep through that!” Mapi said as she popped a piece of bread into her mouth. “Where exactly is Alexia? Didn’t she come down with you?” Irene stated. The whole lot of girls looked at you as they quieted down. It felt like someone had put a spotlight on your head and you felt your cheeks burn. Everyone knew you and Alexia were two peas in a pod, so everyone also knew that something was wrong. You decided to tell the truth and play it off cool. “She wanted to have her own room, I’m sharing with Pina” you explained as you looked to the wall next to the girls so you could avoid eye contact. The group went dead quiet. The whole room felt like it was closing in on you. The air felt hot. The ringing in your ears were gradually taking a turn for the worse. You could feel the tears pressing.

“I’m gonna go get ready for practice” you practically commanded as you shoved your chair out and stomped up the stairs to the your room in the 11th floor. You quickly opted for the shower, ripping the clothes off your body as fast as you could. The water was turned to a cold setting and the icy water made you feel more awake than ever. It sharpened your body and your mind to the point where you had forgotten about Alexia. Eventually, you got out and pulled on your shorts, t-shirt and your wind jacket. Claudia was laying on her bed watching TikTok as you came out of the bathroom. “That took forever!” Claudia sighted as she looked up at you. “Yea, I forgot the time” you muttered back as you slipped on your trainers. “Ready for practice?”

-

The practice hadn’t really been on your side. You had taken a tumble mid sprint and busted your head open. The medics had forced you to get a huge bandaid in the middle of your forehead. It looked awful, and gruelling. Later that same practice, you had managed to step on the ball during a drill and once again face planted into the grass. The last little slip up was when you got split into two team and Alexia had knocked your right out on your back causing you to black out for a hot second. This really wasnt your lucky day. You got into the wardrobe after practice and stayed behind to shower alone. The girls could get quite loud so you sometimes liked to stay behind. The hotel was in a walking distance to the arena, so it wouldn’t be an issue. After you came out of the shower, you bumped into Alexia.

“Oh, sorry” you said as you kept your head down low as you passed her. “What’s up with you today?” She asked with an attitude as she turned around to look at you. You stood towards the locker as you shrugged. “Nothing”. Alexia sighted as she crossed her arms. “I can tell that there is something going on. I know you Y/N better than anyone on the team.” Alexia said as you tried to get your clothes on as you felt your blood boil. You ignored her chucking your cleats into your bag with your dirty clothes. “Y/N, I know you can hear me! What’s going on with you today?” Alexia’s voice seemed to be a mix of annoyance and worry. You could hear her footsteps coming closer to you. It flipped for you when she touched your shoulder.

“Y/N. Come on, talk to me. You are my bestfriend. I love you and I won’t judge you.” she tried again. The emotions you were bearing felt like a kettle about to boil over. Like the moment when your acl snaps and the whole world goes quiet. Like before you take a penalty. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Your had gripped your bag so hard that it started to hurt your hands. Your breathing was becoming more and more heavy. You turned around to face Alexia.

“Y/N-“

“Really Alexia? Are you fucking dumb? You leave me hanging landing me with Claudia without giving me a heads up! You are an ASS at practice. You stop texting me, you stop partnering up with me, you stop being my best friend. You don’t give me any reason, any explanation. You throw 20 years in the trash within a heartbeat! And you tell me that you know me? That you love me? You clearly don’t fucking know or love me at all!”

“Y/N.. I-“

“Oh my god, Alexia. You really don’t know when to stop?! I’m such an idiot for loving you! I’m such an idiot for loving you more than I love myself, more than football, more than anything! You threw me away like I was nothing. And for what? For a fucking girl, Alexia! You don’t do that, people don’t do that to someone that has supported them for 20 years!”

Alexia’s eyes had tears in them. Her confusion was fogging her brain. She was longing for your touch, but she couldn’t tell you. She couldn’t tell you how Olga had picked a fight with her about you. How jealous Olga was. How she felt like she had to protect you from her own girlfriend. You couldn’t tell her how you were craving her touch. How you loved her first. How you had fallen in love with her before Olga was there. How you had liked her since you were teens. Maybe that was your way out of this situation, of this mess that had been made by you, Alexia and Olga.

“God Alexia, I love you. I love you so fucking much it hurts. I have loved you for decades. I loved you before Olga did. I was in love with you, Alexia. For years! So please, leave me the fuck alone.”

You bolted towards the door of the wardrobe leaving Alexia stunned. You felt embarrassed, but you were hurt. As you stormed out of the room, you smacked the door shut while you paced out as fast as your legs could. You needed to get away from Alexia. And you didn’t care what you had to sacrifice for that to happen.

Things between Olga and Alexia weren’t how you had assumed they were. It wasn’t really “Olga and Alexia” anymore. But Alexia hadn’t told you yet. How they had broken up the day you left for the away game. She wanted to tell you in person, somewhere private. Where nobody could hear her other than you. Where she could pour out her real feelings to you. She wanted to tell you that nobody was worth risking your friendship. That you were her bestfriend. That no girl was ever gonna get to ruin your friendship. That you were her ride or die. But she couldn’t tell you, because you were long gone. Alexia didn’t know what to do or how to make things right; but she knew that she needed to make amends.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

We all need someone.

Pairing: Jackson!Joel x afab!reader

Words count: 3919

Rating: +18, NSFW

Warnings/Tags: flour is safe in this one (LOL), smut, fluff, angst, Joel POV, Joel's thought inserts in italics, no use of y/n, reader is described having hair, breast and vagina, no other detail is given on her appearance, Soft!Joel, Older!Joel, age gap (20 years, but the age of both is not specified so it could be 20/40 as well as 30/50 and so on 😉), swearing, kissing, dirty talk, unprotected p in v (do better than these two irl, please), breeding kink (I don’t even know why this happened but here we are LOL), cream pie, cum eating, mention of Sarah and Tess (they’re both gone, I’m sorry 💔), Joel thinks about his past relationship with Tess, mention of Ellie (of course she's alive and well but doesn't speak to Joel), a lot of mixed feelings, some of them sad and kinda depressing, pet names (honey, baby, kitten), they says I love you for the first time.

This has been sitting incomplete in my folds for quite some time, I finished it these days and I hope you understand something about how deeply I love Joel, nothing ever seems enough to describe how I feel. I will continue to try anyway.

English is not my first language, I have no beta and I hope there are no mistakes but if there are please forgive me.

As always, thanks if you will take the time to read this ❤️

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

Joel is old. He can’t deny that no more.

Life wasn’t gentle at all with him and he can see clearly all the signs of it on his face and body.

His mirror reflects the image of someone tired, overwhelmed, just too worn out to feel an inch of youth somewhere in him.

Grey in his hair and beard, pain in his joints, hands calloused and ruined by the cold, back that gives him nightmare, weak knees, wrinkles… his entire self is failing on him.

He doesn’t even understand how he got someone like you.

Beautiful. Sweet. A body that could make world turns and the most amazing face he ever saw.

You don’t see you that way, obviously.

You don’t notice how men in Jackson look at you.

And you don’t even care because you only see him.

He can’t believe how lucky he is.

The most angelic creature set her eyes on him, barely a shell of a man.

He drop his gaze from the bathroom mirror sighing and returns to bed.

Near you.

______________________________

The day he met you for the first time he immediately felt the need to keep you safe running wild in his veins.

You were like a deer in front of flashing lights, scared, bewildered, confused.

And he was there, his hands itching with the urge to touch you, warmth radiating in his chest, his cock twitching into his pants.

You looked like a painting despite your dirty clothes and your lack of shower.

But then again, how could you deal with such things in the middle of nowhere, alone and hungry while struggling to survive.

You deserve the prettiest things.

Whatever he could find during patrol he brought it home to you. Wild flowers that he found in the wood, dresses, one time a brooch left in a drawer in an abandoned house, another time a nice scarf to keep you warm.

Nothing could match your inner beauty and your grace but seeing your bright smile is what keeps him alive right now.

“You don’t need to do that, Joel”

Sure he needs to do it, you’re a vision and he’s just an old man.

He vouched for you.

They were skeptical, you could have been a thief or a rat for some larger group.

You refused to talk about your past, which was why everyone was suspicious.

Joel knew.

He saw pain and loss in your eyes despite your stoic demeanor.

The grumpy, loner, unfriendly man that has always struggled to open up to anyone promised to keep an eye on you in front of the whole community.

And that’s why you ended staying in his house.

He got plenty of space anyway so it didn’t bother him, that’s what he said.

You scratched that little wound in him, that little scar that he thought he was keeping under control.

No matter how tough you tried to be, he could see the fear in your eyes, he could read it clearly in your emaciated face, in your frown and the involuntary twitch of your lower lip.

We all need someone.

He failed to admit that he needed you too, at first.

His battered heart had been out of order, had been crushed to pulp for Sarah, had bled for Tess, had died when Ellie stopped speaking to him.

He tried to be distant and coldly polite like he was with everyone else but you were right there, reminding him that beauty still existed in a fucked up world.

And after all, his heart was still working. It had been kicked but it was still pumping blood through his veins.

The day after you entered his house he woke up to noises coming from the kitchen and thought for a moment that the others were not mistaken. He grunted as he got up thinking he would find his supplies raided and you gone. He almost didn’t have the courage to come and check on you but then he heard a loud metallic thud and ran into the kitchen.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” you said as soon as he appeared in the doorway.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m making breakfast… except I dropped a pan. Sorry.”

His gaze shifted to the table where he saw pancakes and hot coffee. “I thought you wanted some bacon, so I washed the pan to prepare it and it slipped out of my hands while I was soaping it up and the handle broke”

He breathed a sigh of relief as you looked at him guilty . “It's okay, I'll find another one and anyway maple syrup is fine”

Your eyes widened as if he had told you he owned a gold nugget.

“Do you have maple syrup?!” you squeaked and he laughed “sure”

You sat down at the table and you doused your pancakes in syrup. “Hey, take it easy, we don’t have supplies for an army.” he couldn't resist teasing you. Your gaze immediately dropped "oh shit, sorry, I should have thought about it but I don't know how long it's been since I last ate it“

He burst into the loudest laugh anyone had made him utter in months. “Don't worry, help yourself“.

_______________________________

You ended up in his bed during a freezing night, snow storm raging outside, the wind howling and banging against the shutters.

You knocked on his door timidly. Just once.

He was awake, wrapped in his sheets, under a duvet, eyes wide as he begged for a way to sleep.

“Who is it?” A stupid question, there were only the two of you in that house.

“It's me…I…I can't sleep” your voice was muffled by the closed door but it ringed in his ears anyway.

He sighed and replied “Come in”

“Sorry,” you said as you entered, “did I… wake you up?”

She came to me just because I’m right here in the same house.

“No, I can't sleep." and seeing your uncertain steps on the parquet floor he gently urged you "come on, sit here" and he patted the empty side of the bed.

She'll sit here for a while and then go back to her room, he lied to himself.

You sat down, wrapped in too-small pajamas that showed too much of your ankles and wrists, the best you could find in the pile of clothes stored in Jackson's warehouse.

The buttons struggled in the front to contain your breasts.

Lying like that, he could see the outline of your tit from a gap between one buttonhole and the other.

“Why can't you sleep? Is it the storm?” He shifted his gaze to the wall in front of him, focusing on a stupid painting of a horse that someone had hung there who knows when.

“Yes, and also…I keep thinking about a nightmare I had last night, I’m afraid to dream about it again”

That night you opened up to him, you told him about how your parents died, how you managed to escape with some friends and how in the end, you were the only one still alive.

You didn't even know how, at some point you had lost hope. You dragged yourself day by day, a walking dead waiting for the end. You thought you would die in less than a week and instead you had survived another two months before he found you.

__________________________

Joel wished he had the strength to send you back to your room, close his eyes and sleep, without getting involved but everything you had said to him continued to echo in his head. You were finally vulnerable, eyes shining with tears that you were holding back. He felt it again, the need to keep you safe.

He wanted to kiss you.

He reached out to touch your hand. “You’re cold”

You shook your head “No, I’m fine”

You were lovely.

I have to stop, he thought.

“Get under the duvet if you want”

“No really, Joel, thanks but there's no need.”

Why do you have such a sweet voice?

“I don’t want you to get sick.” He immediately regretted saying it, did he sound like his grandmother now? It was tragic. And his pathetic attempt to get you into his bed was even worse.

You laughed. Your silvery laughter pierced his chest, leaving him baffled and needy.

“You know we don’t get sick from the cold, right?”

You were amused and you were teasing him.

“I know,” he replied dryly, pouting. Inside, he was a mess. “However, exposing yourself to the cold contributes to lowering your immune defenses and viruses and bacteria can have a party at your expense”

You laughed even more “Okay, okay. God, when you say these things you sound just like-”

Not your father. Please, don’t say that I sound like someone that could be your parent.

Instinctively he covered your mouth with his hand and you jumped as his big paw suddenly landed on your mouth.

“Damn Joel! Your hands are too big to do that all of a sudden,” you said to him with wide, scared eyes and he felt horribly guilty. He hadn’t thought about it, his head wasn’t thinking anything, but surprising you like that could awaken traumas in you, who knows what cruel and desperate people you had met out there.

You held his hand tightly in yours after you pulled him away from your mouth. You needed two hands to hold it. You were so small. Yet you were capable to do it, you were tougher than you thought.

He quickly apologized and tried to pull it away but you were still holding it.

“It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting it”

You were blossoming in front of him, a completely different person than the one he saved in the wood, newfound lightness in your eyes, your body finally relaxed as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders, the discomfort you showed at the beginning had completely disappeared.

Stop it, she’s too young, she’s 20 years younger than you.

Then you did something he didn't expect. You brought his hand back to your mouth, leaving feather kisses on his calloused fingers.

“These hands make me feel safe, you know? I don’t want that to change. They are the hands that saved me.” you added in a whisper between kisses and there…Joel’s moral code collapsed.

All his good intentions swept away by your lips.

He shouldn't have, but his body was no longer responding to his brain.

He sat on the bed, slowly taking you in his arms.

In your eyes he saw his own need. He no longer cared what others would say, he only felt the unbearable desire to have you that was throbbing in his temples.

You kissed him first. While he was still looking for a way you simply placed your mouth on his and kidnapped him in an instant.

You were so soft against him.

Your lips trembled with uncontrollable desire against his, demanding and needy.

“Joel…” you breathed on his skin “save me. Save me again”

He couldn’t say no, even though he felt overwhelmed and exhausted and he should just find a way to stay away from you so he wouldn’t drag you into a relationship that was wrong.

Maybe it’s not, he thought. If it makes me feel this good and if she wants it so much, maybe it’s right.

Maybe that's why I found her.

When you grazed his lips he just opened it letting you in.

You moved feverishly, clasping your hands behind his neck, your tits rubbing against his chest and your tongue caressing the roof of his mouth and then seeking out his as if it were a matter of life or death.

That night Joel laid down his weapons. He was the one who was defenseless before you.

______________________________

“Hey” you coo in your little bird voice “where were you?”

“I was in the bathroom”

“Mmmmm come here, I'm cold” you wrap your leg around his waist and press yourself against his chest.

Six months have passed since the night he kissed you, what you wanted had become his priority, even if you didn't ask for anything. At least not anything material. Just to have him by your side.

He lies down on the bed on his side and you press your head to his chest “you're always so warm”

Your left leg is wrapped over his thigh, your body blends so well with his, it feels like you've always belonged there.

He could spend every day of his life like this, lying in bed with you in his arms.

You’re making out for what it feels like hours, your kisses going from chaste and tender to demanding and needy, getting sloppier and deeper.

Your hips grind against his, seeking friction, asking for attention.

The lack of oxygen is starting to have the better of Joel, his mind is fuzzy and all he can think about is you whining and panting in his mouth, filling up the quiet room with your labored breath.

Your voice is a litany echoing in his ears, a prayer made of sighs and moans “Joel, please”

“I'm here, sweetie, tell me what you want” he softly urges.

“I want…I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me until I’m boneless . Please” you plead

“Such a hungry little thing” he smiles before leaving a bite where your neck and shoulder joints met.

“I still have to wrap my head around the fact that you want this wrinkled old cock so much” he mumbles

Your voice is deep and husky as you continue to rock frantically on his leg and you slap him on the shoulder protesting “It’s not old. it’s thick and hot and perfect and my pussy needs it.”

He chuckles, surprised that you still have an attitude after all the grinding and making out.

“She wants it that bad, huh?” He whispers and you purr “yeah. She needs all of you, please”

“Oh baby, she’s weeping all over my leg, how can i resist” he smiles as he kisses you again sucking gently on your lower lip and then moving on your neck, licking over your pulse point.

He makes you lie down on the bed, gently crushing you with his body.

As he continues on his path paved with kisses and little bites he growls “Spread your legs for me, honey, let me feel you”

He lowers a hand, your soaked cotton panties sticky and messy under his touch. “Mmm how did she get so wet every single time”

“It’s because of you… she feels so empty right now”

“Damn, you’re so pretty when you’re begging for my old cock”

Your voice almost sounds like a cry, eagerness all over your face, your hands fisting his bed t-shirt so tight your knuckles are pale.

He’s intoxicated with the way you desperately demand to be full of him.

“Fuck me, Joel, fuck me hard”

Nothing exists anymore except your quivering body beneath him as he keeps hovering his fingers over your cunt and tasting your skin.

He doesn't even have the patience to take off your panties, he tears it, a large hole opens up on the front.

You whine loudly, a mixture of surprise and hunger.

He pulls down his boxers and let slide his cock over your clit wetting it, shivering at the sensation of your warm juices coating his shaft.

He usually licks you first, makes sure you have at least a couple of orgasms from his mouth before he enters you but he can’t wait. Not today.

He never really felt in control with you, he let you invade every cell of his body without even thinking about it.

Between him and Tess there was something left unsaid.

She had never asked him to feel what she felt, and he had no intention of bringing up the subject.

Tess was like him, bold because no one had to notice how deeply wounded she was, a woman of few words, she inspired respect and fear in others even more than he did.

They had bonded out of necessity and then discovered they were more similar than they thought.

He loved Tess but couldn't put it into words, he followed her around like a guard dog barking at anyone who threatened her.

It was the only way for him to show how much he cared, he couldn't make a relationship official when he was still trying to heal from losing Sarah.

When you stepped into his life he was even more hurt but he was still someone born to protect and the quiet coexistence with you had unleashed something in him that he couldn't oppose.

Before he could realize it, you were already beating hard in the center of his heart and it was as if the words were elbowing their way out of his chest.

He has to do it now, sink into you before it's too late, before time passes inexorably without leaving him anything to hold in his hands.

He puts the tip in.

Your glassy eyes are locked in his, overflowing with lust.

He slides another inch into you, your muscles clench around his cock and another moan escape your lips.

He has to hold on to all the willpower he has left not to shoot a load inside you right away.

He's slamming into you, trying to keep his mouth in check for once but yours is running wildly, he's never heard you like this.

“Holy fuck it’s so good just- fuck - just split me in two”

“God, baby, that dirty mouth of yours is going to drive me crazy”

“I can’t stop - nnnngh - the way you make me feel - fuck - it’s unreal”

When he reaches your soft spot you’re a bundle of whines “oh God oh fuck it feels so good”

He feels sweat beading on his forehead, his breath short, his strength faltering, it’s like fighting against his own body and it’s a fight he’s not willing to lose.

His lips latch onto your nipple, he tries to breathe deeply through his nose, so maybe you won't hear the rattle that crackles in his throat.

“Fuck. Yes, suck it, Joel. God, your mouth is so damn perfect” He doesn’t have a clue why you’re so wild today but he feels like drunk on you.

And he feels vulnerable, even with your nipple gently trapped between his teeth.

He sinks more, his balls slamming against your ass, so deep into you.

He hasn't shed a tear since he lost Sarah, he thought he had cried them all, but he looks at you like this now, disheveled, raw and longing beneath his body and he feels them stinging at the corners of his eyes for a totally different reason.

Happiness.

He is like snow, hard, cold, inhospitable and you are like the sun that melts him, inviting, comforting, warm.

His love for you is undeniable. Indisputable. It boils in his veins, it cracks his breath and makes his bones weaker. He never felt so much painful need of belonging to someone before in a romantic way.

His old body is aching but at the same time he feels like he has just gained a new sense of being alive in this wrecked world.

You're like a little beast writhing beneath him, clinging to his back, your nails scratching him and your mouth drinking from his skin, his neck, while your pussy sucks him in, taking everything he has.

Your hair is plastered to your forehead, scattered on the pillow beneath you, his hypnotized eyes don't miss a change in expression on your face transfigured by desire.

He has never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

His cock pulses inside you, wrapped in your hot, tight, dripping pussy. “God, you’re always so perfect for me,” he sighs. His chest grinds against you, his heartbeat now in his throat.

Your skin is salty, smells like the rose shower gel he brought you last week. He smelled it and your face came alive before his eyes as if you were there. Tommy had to shake him by the shoulder to try to wake him from the trance he had fallen into.

You're always too much for his old, broken heart.

“Come inside me, Joel,” you beg.

“Are you sure?” he murmurs, dazed.

“YES. Please Joel, I want you to fill me up, I want to feel every drop of you, I want—fuck—I want your seed all the way inside my cunt, I want to feel it dripping on my skin”

You've never let him cum inside you before, he's marked your tits, your tummy, your back, once your face by mistake while you were milking him with your hand.

Never your cunt.

Your legs wrapped around his waist push him against you.

“Please, my pussy is yours only, yours only, feed her” your strangled sobs and your begging send him over the edge, he can’t hold back any longer.

Your clouded eyes are locked on his, sending shivers all over his body.

He does what you ask, exploding inside you in long spurts of sperm, painting your walls that tighten around his length as if they wanted to nestle him inside you forever.

His hand moves down to your clit, rubbing it frantically "come baby, come for me" and you cry out your orgasm almost instantly, your hips rolling against his, your breasts bouncing with your ragged breathing.

He pulls out of you and smiles, looking down, long white, slimy streaks sliding lazily out of you. You smile back, bringing a hand between your thighs.

You bring a finger to your mouth, as if you had never tasted it before, you spread it on your lower lip and then lick your finger clean “what does it taste like?” he asks without even thinking.

“Try it” you suggest offering your finger to him “lick”.

Joel sticks out his tongue uncertainly, darting it slightly, he pauses for a moment and then gives a more decisive lick “It’s salty. It tastes like…moss?” “Yes. It’s good” you tell him softly.

Good is not the word he would use but you seem convinced, so he doesn't comment further.

He takes you in his arms as you calm down, you bury your head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.

He kisses your hair, then your forehead and thinks that if you didn't exist he would have already given up everything, his entire life.

"Kitten" he drawl and you hum in response “Yes, Joel?”

The words had been jostling in his throat for a week but he'd kept pushing them back.

Having these feelings at his age, with everything he had been through, is terrifying.

Yet he could no longer lie to himself.

You crawled into his soul so easily.

He belongs to you. For all the days he has left. He wants nothing more from life.

“I love you”

It's the first time he's said it to you.

You look up, your doe eyes surprised and sparkling in the morning dawn that faintly enters through the window.

You are speechless for a moment, joy radiating across your face. Your mouth curves into the most beautiful smile he has ever seen.

“I love you too”

Your fingers tickle the nape of his neck and bury themselves in his hair as he kisses you.

“I love you, Joel” you repeat through the dance of your lips “I love you”

[bookworm551]

Take the Edge Off | Part 10 | Terrors

Summary: Late at night, Miguel confesses something that haunts him.

A/N: well, it’s time for me to post my bi-monthly part since I’ve been slacking sm lately. No good excuse, I’m not even sure if ppl read this anymore but oh well, enjoy

Warnings: smut, oral f-receiving

Word count: 8.4k

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

You were sleeping peacefully when the sound of quick rustling startled you awake.

Something was thrashing beside you in bed, quick and panicked. You blinked your eyes open, your sleep-addled mind trying to process what was happening. You felt disoriented as you tried remembering where you were. The bed and sheets were most definitely not your own, yet they were somehow familiar.

Miguel. This was Miguel's bed.

Since your talk with him about being more than just fuck buddies, Miguel had actually kept his word. He communicated more about where he was, what he was doing, how late he'd be out. There were even a few nights like tonight where he'd let you stay with him in his room.

It was Miguel who was causing the rustling that now pulled you from your sleep. He was muttering something unintelligible as his legs kicked at the sheets. You rolled over to face him right as his form shot up from the bed. Through the darkness, you could hear his ragged breathing as he gasped for air, and you could vaguely see his silhouette hunched forward next to you.

Instantly, you felt awake and alert. Pushing yourself up from your pillow, you were immediately at his side. "What's wrong?" You asked, placing a worried hand on his shoulder. Under your palm, you felt the sweat that slicked his clammy skin.

Miguel flinched hard from your touch and jerked his arm away from your hand, still breathing in sharp, uneven gasps. Instead of replying, he turned his body away from you, ripping the covers off himself and moving to sit at the edge of the bed as he fought to steady his breathing.

You'd been in his position enough times to know exactly what was wrong. Nightmares had plagued you endlessly since the first time you lost someone you tried to save, and they didn't get easier with time.

"Lyla, turn the lights to 20%," you said softly. Immediately, a faint glow illuminated the room, and you could see Miguel's trembling body in the faint light. He was rocking back and forth slightly as whatever vision he’d had faded from his mind, and he didn't say anything as his heaving chest began to grow steady again.

You scooted closer to him but didn't touch him. You knew all too well that sometimes you needed a moment to understand that the terror in your chest was unsubstantiated, and so you gave him a second to deescalate before whispering, "Are you okay?"

He ran his hands over his face once before muttering, "Fine." He did not sound fine at all, but you weren't going to point that out to him. Instead, you carefully placed your hand on his shoulder again. He didn't flinch this time, so you slowly let it wander across his bare chest, wrapped your arm around him, and pulled his back against your body.

He still didn't say anything, but he lifted a hand to grab your arm and held it for a moment as a comforting gesture. "What was it?" You asked quietly, hoping that he'd open up to you. Under your palm, his heart was still racing, though he seemed to be calmer than before. He held onto you for a moment before letting his hand fall away, and he stood up from the bed.

"It was nothing," he muttered. "Go back to sleep."

You watched as he stalked over to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. Clad in only a pair of black briefs, his whole body was shining with perspiration in the dim light. He was clearly rattled by whatever night terror had taken over his sleep, but you knew he wasn't going to open up so easily.

Rather than listen to his order to go back to sleep, you waited for him to return. His face looked haunted and drained of color when he came back and slipped under the covers again. You slid next to him, snaking an arm across his torso and pulling yourself close to him, resting your head in the crook of his shoulder. Miguel tensed at your touch, but he didn't try pushing you away.

You settled in silence for a while. Tilting your head up to look at him, you saw he was staring absently at the ceiling above, not even trying to fall back to sleep again. You understood that, too—the fear of sleeping in case the same nightmare took over again. You'd lost hours of sleep that way, refusing to close your eyes to keep away the monsters that plagued your dreams.

You quickly realized that Miguel wasn't going to talk unless you did. "I have them too, you know," you whispered, breaking the silence around you. His face didn't change, and after a quiet moment, he replied, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Talking about it helps," you offered. "Even if it doesn't make them go away." You watched his face carefully for a reaction, hoping he'd open up. Still, his faraway gaze never shifted, and he gave a barely-perceptible shake of his head.

Sighing, you looked back down at his chest, littered with faint scars from his time as Spider-Man. You wondered about the stories of how he got them. No doubt it had taken years to accumulate them all, each one a tiny reminder of the amount of traumatic events he had lived through. You had your own reminders too, and not just the scars on your body.

"Mine are usually memories of people I couldn't save," you admitted quietly. "Sometimes, it plays out exactly as it happened, sometimes it's a bit different. I used to tell them to my best friend, and it helped."

Your throat tightened as you thought of your friend. She was the only one who had known about your secret life. She had been the one to confide in, the one who listened. Late at night, when you couldn't stop shaking from the nightmares, she would answer your calls, no matter how late it was or how early she had to get up the next day. She had done so much for you.

And in the end, you had failed her.

"Then, I couldn't save her either," you continued quietly, a slight warble in your voice, "and the nightmares got...so much worse."

You felt Miguel's head shift to look down at your face. It was now your turn to avoid his gaze. Guilt and shame washed over you as you replayed that terrible day, the day you lost the most important person in the world.

There was a beat of silence, and Miguel's hand slid under the fabric of your shirt and began slowly rubbing your back across your skin in a comforting gesture—ironic given that he was the one still shaking off the effects of his nightmare.

"My worst ones are about her," you finally managed to say, still avoiding his gaze. "It's usually her on the ground, dead—" you took a shaky breath, "—but then she looks at me and asks why I didn't save her."

Over and over again, she would say it, and even now, you could see the scene clearly. Her body, sprawled and broken, her dead eyes glazed over lifelessly while her bloody lips moved and ask, Why didn't you save me? Why didn't you save me?

A shiver ran through you at the memory.

"I just had that one last weekend," you confessed softly.

There was a pause, and you could practically hear Miguel putting together the fact that you had been with him then, in that very bed beside him. You had woken up shaking and nauseous, but since he had still been sleeping, you had let him be while you stayed up for hours without closing your eyes again.

Miguel finally broke his silence. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked. You gave a weak shrug. "Same reason you're not telling me yours," you countered. "It's not easy to talk about."

He didn't reply, but he did pull you closer to him so that you were lying halfway on his body, one of your bare legs draped over his.

Neither of you said anything for a long while.

You reflected on what you had said to him. That was the first time you'd ever told anyone about that particular nightmare. What you had said before was true—it's not easy talking about the things that scared you the most. Even just recalling it out loud made you want to curl up in a ball and hide under the bed, but now, you couldn't deny that you felt lighter, less burdened, less alone.

"It was you."

Miguel's voice was barely above a whisper when he finally interrupted the silence. You raised your head to look at his face again.

"Me?" You repeated quietly.

"You—something was coming for you. I don't know what it was, but I knew it was going to kill you."

His fingers curled into your back like whatever phantom had plagued his dreams was coming for you again. You were silent, barely daring to breathe. You were afraid that if you so much as blinked, he'd clam up again and refuse to tell you what was lingering from his dream.

"I tried running to you," he continued slowly, "but every step, I pushed you further towards whatever...thing was coming for you. And when it got to you..."

He didn't have to finish his sentence. You could see from the shadow that passed over his face that whatever he had seen in his dream hadn't been pretty. He just sighed and stroked your skin slowly.

"Have you ever had that one before?" You asked softly.

He shook his head faintly, and you held him a little tighter. The first time having a particular nightmare was always the worst, the hardest to convince yourself it wasn't real. It was no wonder he shook you off before. In his confusion, he probably still thought you were dead.

"It's over now," you told him quietly. "I'm alright."

Miguel said nothing, his eyes still fixed determinedly on the ceiling. His absent gaze didn't waver for the few heartbeats of silence that followed your words, and you were sure he was replaying the vision of whatever darkness had consumed you in his sleep.

Lifting your head up from his chest, you tried to capture his gaze with your own, but he refused to look at you, almost as if he was afraid that your eyes would be as lifeless as he had seen in his dream.

You cupped his cheek with one hand and gently pulled his face to look at you. He didn't resist, and his eyes finally blinked and met yours.

"It's over now," you repeated softly, "and I'm right here."

Miguel took a moment to study your face, like he was trying to memorize every line and curve that made up your appearance. You didn't move, didn't flinch from his gaze, letting him see for himself the life that still flowed inside you.

After a few seconds, you lowered your lips onto his to let him feel the warmth of your mouth, the heat and desire you had for him. Miguel responded by subtly pulling your body tighter to his as he moved his lips against yours.

Breaking away from you gently, there was the faintest softening of his face. "I'm glad you're here," he murmured quietly.

You felt your face glow at his words. You understood that he meant more than just you being there with him at the moment. He was glad you were alive, glad you were with him through all the shit you both had to deal with.

"Me too," you replied before placing another quick kiss to his lips again.

Settling back down at his side, you casually traced your fingers over his chest. So many reminders, so many terrors. You thought about all the sleepless nights you'd experienced since becoming Spider-Woman, all the strange visions that came to you in your dreams.

"I once had a nightmare that I had to shoot webs out of my ass," you told him in an attempt to lighten the mood.

There was a pause before Miguel huffed out a single, soft breath. "You too?" He replied. Your eyebrows shot up. "You too?" you repeated in surprise, a smile pulling you out of the somber mood. "It must be a canon event for us Spiders."

Miguel hummed and looked up again, and even though there was still that lingering appearance of melancholy, his face seemed more relaxed now. Your ear was pressed against his chest, and you listened to his steady heartbeat. His hand still rubbed your back slowly, the feeling apparently grounding him back to reality.

"You should go back to sleep," he told you. You shook your head. "I'm not tired," you replied. "Are you?"

"Even if I was, I couldn't fall asleep," he said, his eyes fixed on the ceiling above. You nodded. "I get it."

Silence returned.

Your fingers continued stroking his stomach slowly as you replayed his words, and your chest felt warm by what Miguel revealed to you.

He was scared of losing you. The fear of it made stole his breath away and caused his body to quiver. His face had looked haunted as he recovered from his night terror. It was such an intense and visceral reaction to the idea of you dying.

Soaking up his warmth against you, you knew you felt the same way—the same fear, the same helplessness at the thought of losing him. You hadn't even realized how deeply you had fallen for him, hadn't realized how important he was to you until recently. It consumed you so completely that the idea of him not being here with you made stomach tighten nauseously.

Turning your head, you brushed a kiss to his chest. Just a simple touch, just to remind both you and him that he was there now. You felt him shift to look down at you, and you were somewhat surprised when he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered for a moment before he breathed a sigh against your skin.

Facing up at him, you met his gaze in the dim light. His eyes took in your appearance, and you took in his. An understanding passed between you, one that acknowledged what you were feeling, the fear and anxiety as a result of your feelings for each other. One look that told each other everything you were too afraid to say.

Your lips met his in a soft kiss—slow, gentle, comforting. You broke apart for a mere second before moving into another one, and then another, until he was leaning forward and pulling you in harder against his mouth. Your hand rubbed against his chest more intentionally while his tongue teased at your lips, and you parted to let him taste your mouth with a small moan.

Your heart began pounding in your chest. Each movement he made was slow and sensual, and he took each touch to remind himself that you were alive. His hand roamed up your back to feel your warm skin, and your loud sigh was proof of the breath in your lungs.

Your hand wandered lower and lower down his abdomen, the hard muscles flexing beneath your touch. You reached the band of his briefs before you stopped. Any other night, you would've jumped on him without hesitation, but you found yourself pausing and wondering if making a move for sex was wise.

Pulling away from his lips, you whispered, "Would this make you feel better?" You didn't need to clarify what you meant.

Miguel's eyes were half-lidded as he stared at your face. A faint smile pulled at his lips, the first crack in his wall of gloom, and he raised a hand to brush his fingers across your cheek. "It definitely wouldn't hurt to see," he breathed in reply.

A smirk pulled at your lips. "It could hurt if you want it to," you mused. "Just a little bit." His lips curved up a little more at your implication. Before he could reply, your hand pressed down on his cock over the materials of his briefs.

Miguel bit back a groan. You rubbed your hand over him with tantalizing slowness, watching his face as he closed his eyes and pressed his head back. Kissing his exposed neck, you reveled in his pleasure and pushed down harder against him.

"It doesn't have to hurt, though," you continued quietly in his ear. "It can be soft and gentle." You kissed him again just under his jawline. Under your palm, you could feel him growing hard. You smiled at how your words and some simple touches made him crave you.

"Or it can be hard and rough," you continued, your hand pushing down against him harshly, and you nipped at his ear. Miguel sucked in a sharp breath and pushed his hips upwards into your hand. He groaned your name softly, and just the sound of it made your core grow hot.

You slipped your hand under the black material that strained with his growing bulge. Miguel's breath stuttered as you wrapped your fingers around his hardening cock. "We can do it however you want," you finished with a smug grin.

You could feel his jaw clench under your lips. "Fuck," he breathed softly. You let the single word fuel your movements. You squeezed tightly as you slowly pumped your hands up and down his length. Another soft groan sounded in his throat, and he turned his head to kiss you again.

Still stroking him steadily, you broke away from his lips to ask, "So, how do you want it? Gentle or rough?"

His breath was hot against your mouth before he murmured, "Why choose when we can do both?"

A wicked smile grew on your face, and in a heartbeat, your lips were crashing down on his, devouring and exploring every inch of him. Your hand followed after your mouth's eagerness, stroking him with a stronger need.

Miguel pushed his hips up off the bed in encouragement, and in the same motion, he tugged off his briefs to free himself from the constricting fabric. Now, you could see his full length, so large and stiff that it made you ache.

Your breath grew heavy as your hands continued smoothly sliding up and down his cock. Turning your head, you nuzzled your face beneath his jaw and sucked at the skin of his neck. Miguel seemed utterly paralyzed, and his deep moan tickled your lips.

"Relax," you purred. "I'm gonna take care of you."

Miguel's hand moved under your shirt—his shirt, actually—and up your back. His callouses felt rough against your skin, and they wandered across your body and pulled you closer to him. You nipped gently at his throat, and Miguel's fingers dug into your back.

"Does that feel good?" You asked smugly, already knowing the answer. He nodded in response, his eyes closed tightly as his chest heaved uneven breaths.

"Talk to me," you implored in a smug voice, never slowing your hand's pace. "Does it feel good?"

Miguel was trying his best to answer you, and through his stuttering breath, he managed to sigh, "Yes. God, yes."

You loved the desperate edge in his voice. It sent a thrill running up your body. You lowered your face from his neck to his chest and placed long, wet kisses all over him. A growl sounded in his back of his throat. When you glanced up at his face through your lashes, his eyes were closed, and his head was straining against his pillow as his muscles flexed in pleasure.

"I love hearing you," you murmured against his skin, never ceasing for a moment the stroking movements of your hand. "It makes me so wet, every sound you make."

Hearing your words, Miguel actually moaned, and he pushed his hips up into your hand. The sound went straight to your core. Your blood was growing hot, and the deep throbbing between your legs was almost unbearable. You squeezed your thighs together to try and gain some relief, and you let out a quiet moan of your own.

Miguel must've heard you because something in him snapped. His eyes fluttered open, and he pushed himself up to capture your lips. Your hand increased its pace as Miguel explored your mouth with desperation.

He broke away from you for a second and gasped softly, "I need to feel you."

You smirked and lifted yourself up off his body. His impatient hands began tugging at your shirt, and you had to move your hand away from his cock to allow him to rip it off your body. With the shirt gone, you were left in only a pair of underwear.

Miguel was eager to feel you. He rolled his body onto yours and settled between your legs. As he hovered over you, he had one arm planted on the bed to support himself while the other wandered up your body, feeling your bare skin beneath his palm.

Another soft moan escaped from your lips as his rough hand slid over your body, kneading at one of your breasts as his lips latched onto your neck. Your thighs squeezed around his hips reactively when you felt his hardened length nudging against the soaked fabric of your underwear.

Your desperation to feel him inside you was overwhelming. Letting go of Miguel, you started tugging at the band of your underwear. He knew what you were doing, and so his lips broke away from your neck as he hooked his fingers around the top of your underwear. Sitting up off your body, he pulled them down your legs and tossed them aside.

Miguel stayed sitting upright for a moment, drinking in the sight of your bare body before him. Even in the low light, you were able to see how his eyes burned with desire, how they took in every inch of you with longing.

You looked up at him, too. His body towered over yours. The contours around his muscles were exaggerated by the soft light overhead, making him look like a god. His dark hair was mussed, and strands of it had fallen over his face. Between his powerful thighs, the sight of his cock made you ache.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to how good you look," you said softly.

Miguel's eyes flicked up to your face, a small hint of surprise in his expression. You didn't praise him often enough, you realized. So often, he was the one idolizing your body while you were rendered speechless from his touch. Seeing him now with his god-like physique, you realized Miguel deserved to know how much you loved being with him.

Sitting up, you ran a hand up his sculpted body, feeling the muscles underneath his warm skin. He flexed reactively as your fingers skimmed up to his neck, and you pulled him into another slow kiss.

With your other hand, you reached down and stroked his cock. Miguel let out a low moan against your mouth, making you smile. "I don't think I'll ever get used to how good you sound," you whispered, pulling him back down to the bed.

He followed after you eagerly, his body hovering over yours as he continued kissing you ravenously. Despite being on top of you, Miguel was following submissively with your every physical direction. He was propped up on one elbow while his other hand held your thigh. His body was practically trembling in anticipation while your hand continued stroking him slowly, but he remained hovering over you and waiting for your permission to enter you.

You were just as anxious to feel him inside you. Pulling his head down with one hand to kiss you again, you guided his cock to your soaking entrance.

"Now, remind me of how good you feel," you told him quietly.

Miguel didn't need any more prompting. In one smooth movement, he pushed into you. Your head fell back against the bed with a loud moan as his cock stretched you out. His breath caught in his throat for a moment as he felt the wet warmth of your pussy around him.

"Mierda," he breathed against your neck as he began pumping long, smooth strokes into you. You couldn't even speak from the pleasure that overwhelmed your senses. The most that you could do was force yourself to take ragged breaths while Miguel continued rolling his hips into you, in and out, over and over.

He whispered your name as he pushed himself into you over and over again. You whimpered softly. At the sound of it, Miguel's lips came crashing down against yours, and his tongue explored your mouth with a growing desperation.

"More," you whined into his mouth. "I need more."

Miguel groaned. His movements evolved from strong, steady strokes to relentless, harsh thrusts. You cried out as the sound of him pounding into you echoed around the room, his cock sending pleasure pulsing through your body.

Miguel shifted his body above you. He pushed himself up off his elbow and up onto his knees. With his hands, he gripped you by the waist and hoisted your hips effortlessly into his lap, your back now arched with your shoulders still resting on the bed. Holding you firmly in place, he ever-so-obediently began fucking you mercilessly.

The air was snatched from your lungs as he began driving his cock into you with unrelenting desperation. One of your hand reached up and grabbed the edge of the headboard while the other clawed at the sheets.

Whatever amount of control you'd had over Miguel vanished, and any sort of restraint he'd had before snapped. His cock buried deep inside you and pounded against your G-spot mercilessly. Ragged cries tore from your throat as your whole body began trembling.

“Fuck,” you managed to groan, your fingers clenching around the sheets beneath you. Miguel was ravenous. His large cock stretched you out until it nearly hurt, and his fingers threatened to leave bruises on your hips.

“Like that?” He asked smugly, his words breathless as he continued slamming into you. You whined and nodded, your arms shook with the strain of their grip on the bed. Miguel leaned over your body while keeping your hips up on his thighs, one hand supporting him above you. His lips found one of your breast, and as he fucked you, his ran his tongue over your nipple.

Moaning salaciously, your body trembling as he completely overwhelmed your senses. In his throat, Miguel growled in approval of how you responded to him. His cock continued pounding against your G-spot, and he pulled his head up for just a second to watch your face before he bit down on your nipple.

You cried out as pleasure coursed through you, sending you hurdling into your release. You barely registered how you moaned his name as your climax took over your every faculty. Miguel noticed and gave a few more hard thrusts into you, drawing gasping cries from you.

You were seeing stars as you lost yourself in your bliss. Your body felt electric as Miguel slowed to a stop and pulled away from you, watching you slumped on the bed, unraveling underneath him.

"You look so beautiful when you cum like that," he panted, slowly moving his body further down the bed. "I can't get enough of it."

You moaned, unable to respond to him otherwise. Your heart was pounding furiously in your chest, and you were gulping down deep, uneven breaths. He lowered his face to kiss your neck softly, and you threaded your fingers through his hair. He made you feel like a goddess, and he was your most faithful worshipper.

Your body was still trembling while he placed kisses between your breasts to your stomach. As he moved lower, your eyes fluttered open to look down at him. Through his dark lashes, Miguel was watching your face as his lips trailed lower and lower down your abdomen.

Your body shivered when you realized what he was going to do. "Wait," you gasped quietly, squeezing your legs together around him. Miguel paused right as he was beginning to wrap his arms under your thighs, his gaze restless. He seemed to be exerting all his will to obey your single-word command.

"It's- I'm—," you fumbled for the right words in your unfocused state. Damn him for melting your mind like this, any semblance of rational thoughts shattered by his cock. Taking a steadying breath, you managed to say, "I don't think I can take that right now."

You knew exactly what he could do with his head between your legs, but you were currently still piecing yourself back together, and the thought of him ravaging you with his tongue while you were still coming off of your climax seemed torturous.

Miguel didn't move, but you could see in the dim light how his eyes flashed with need. "I'll be gentle," he promised in a low voice. "I'll go slow. I just want a taste." He shifted, and you noted the restless movement along with the desperate edge in his voice when he added, "Please. Just a taste of you."

Fuck. There was no way you could say no to the sounds of him begging.

In silent reply, you relaxed your legs. Miguel slid his arms under them, his powerful hands gripping your thighs as he pulled them open, baring your soaked cunt before him. His eyes never left yours as he lowered his face down and took a long stroke of his tongue up your pussy.

You couldn't suppress the cry that wrested from your throat. Your whole body felt like it had been set on fire as he licked at you again, a low growl rumbling in the back of his throat as he tasted your desire for him. Your eyes squeezed shut, and your legs fought the iron grip of his hands.

Slowly, gently—just as he promised—Miguel explored your pussy with his mouth. His tongue trailed between your folds, avoiding the very top where your swollen clit was still too sensitive for his touch. You sighed at the feeling, the warmth of his tongue sending delightful shivers across your body.

Moving lower, he slid through your wetness until the tip of his tongue teased the outside of your entrance where his cock had been mere minutes ago. Your breath hitched at the feeling, and Miguel took that as a sign to push his tongue in as deep as it could go.

Your back arched off the bed as he pushed into you slowly again and again. You moaned his name as he tasted you so passionately. Miguel's hands pulled your legs open further while he fucked you just like that, his tongue sliding in and out of you at a pace just inside of what you could handle.

"Mmm, Miguel," you whined, one hand gripping at his hair while the other reached for the headboard again.

It felt so good, impossibly good. Everything he did to you made you wonder how he could possibly be real, how he could possibly be with you. Your first time together, you hadn't thought it would ever happen again, let alone evolve into what you had now. What had started as a one-time fuck was now a constant need to be with each other, to hold each other close and never let go.

Your hips began shifting restlessly under his mouth. Your very blood felt as if it were on fire. Already, he had brought you from being overstimulated to craving another release.

Miguel lifted his face from your pussy for a moment. His glistening lips were parted as he panted lightly, and his eyes were glazed over with lust.

"You taste so good," he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire. "I could eat you out every day if you'd let me." You moaned softly at the thought of it. "I'm not stopping you," you replied breathlessly.

His lips curved up into a smirk before he lowered his head down again to drag his tongue up your cunt, carefully testing your sensitive clit. Your body squirmed under his firm grasp, and you gasped at the hot pleasure coursing through your veins.

Miguel seemed satisfied by your reaction. He took another slow stroke over your sensitivity again, trying to gauge how much you could take now. To answer his unspoken question, you groaned and pressed his head down harder. You felt more than heard his deep chuckle at your wordless instructions, and he obliged you by sealing his lips over your pussy and pressing his tongue against you.

You writhed on the bed, your thighs straining against his hands as he ate you out with greater fervor. Your whines and sighs filled the room, and your grip on the headboard tightened to an almost painful degree.

Miguel sucked, licked, and wholly devoured your cunt. You could feel the pleasure beginning to coil deep inside of you, and he seemed to read it in how your body struggled in his grasp. Falling into a steady pace of strong, even strokes, he moved tirelessly to earn more moans from your lips.

Your fingers gripped his hair tightly, and you glanced down at his face between your legs. His dark eyes were half-lidded and unfocused, completely pussy drunk. In them, you saw his utter surrender to your taste and the complete abandonment of his restraint.

Despite your legs still struggling under his grasp, he released one hand from your thigh, and before you could understand what he was doing, he inserted two fingers into you.

Your hips arched off the bed as a shuddering cry tore through you. His fingers curled inside you, working in tandem with his tongue still swirling around your clit. His pace was unrelenting, desperate, like he needed you to fall apart as much as he needed to breathe. Every nerve was on fire as you felt yourself completely lose yourself in the pleasure of his mouth and fingers.

You might have been screaming, you weren't sure. Every thought and scrap of awareness was washed away by the tidal wave that was your orgasm. Your body felt like it was shattering, and you lost all control of yourself as you lifted your hips off the bed with trembling effort. Miguel stayed securely attached to you, his tongue and fingers working you through it with a final desperation.

"Miguel!" You cried out as you struggled against him, your pleasure an overwhelming force that threatened to tear you apart. He slowed his hands to a gradual stop and raised his head up off of you, his eyes drinking in the sight of you unraveling under him.

"Beautiful," he purred, watching your body as the trembling finally eddied away. "Did that feel good?"

You were still gasping for air, and it took every ounce of your focus to reply, "Yes. Too good. I—I'm gonna need a minute."

His lips curved into a self-satisfied grin, and he placed a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh. "I'll take my time," he replied smugly. He placed another kiss a little higher, and then another on your lower stomach, until he was trailing his lips slowly up your body.

You groaned as he moved higher. Your body was thrumming with the aftermath of pleasure, and you were still breathing heavily when his mouth pressed over one of your breasts. You shivered at the touch of him, his warm tongue swirling around your nipple in lazy circles while his hand palmed your other breast with greed.

"You're insatiable," you groaned. You heard him chuckle quietly. "You say that like it's a bad thing," he said against your soft skin. You hummed, unable to keep the smile from growing on your lips. "It's not," you replied, "but I might not be able to walk tomorrow."

Miguel turned his face up to look at you, a smug grin tugging at his lips. "You need me to carry you around the base?" He asked in amusement.

You actually laughed at him. "Mmm, no. I'd hate to hurt that hard-ass reputation of yours," you told him. He hummed thoughtfully, pressing another kiss to your breast. "I think your reputation would be the one at stake," he replied. "After all, what would people think about you being with a hard-ass like me?"

You chuckled, bringing a hand up to run through his hair. "They'd be jealous," you stated. "I mean, half the Society wants to sleep with you, and the other half is lying about not wanting to."

That earned a low laugh from Miguel, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. "Well," he began slowly, bringing his face up to yours, "I don't want to be with half the Society, or the other half." You smiled up at him, your eyes never leaving his as he rested his forehead against yours.

"Just you," he whispered.

You held his stare and soaked in his presence, the lingering hum of pleasure in your body, the feeling of his heat pressed over you. Your hand slid down from his hair to cup his cheek. If you could stop time and hold onto a moment forever, it would probably be this one.

Gently, you pulled his face down to yours and kissed him. Your taste still lingered there, and after a second, you broke away to whisper, "I was hoping you'd say that."

He chuckled, and before he could respond, you pulled him back into a deep kiss. He parted his lips to slide his tongue against yours. You made a soft noise, and your lips moved against his smoothly, your kisses running together until your breathing grew heavy again.

Miguel, you could tell, was more than eager to be back inside you. His hand palmed your breast hungrily, and his whole body moved with anticipation. You quickly realized, however, that he was still holding out, waiting instead for you to give him permission to continue what you had paused.

You shifted your hips up to him, moaning softly when his cock brushed against your entrance. His breath shuddered, and he looked down at you to read your face. You nodded, answering his silent question before kissing him again.

You moaned into his mouth when he pushed into you once more. He moved slowly, so slowly inside you. Every thrust was long and deep, like he was trying to feel every inch of you. Your breathing was heavy as your fingers dug into the skin of his back.

The pace he set was vastly different than before. His pace was controlled and even, withdrawing all the way to the tip before pushing all the way to the hilt. This wasn't just fucking, you realized—it was love-making. Watching your reactions, waiting for your command, doing everything in his power to please you—Miguel completely encompassed what it meant to be a lover.

He broke away from your lips after a moment to catch his breath. You were both breathing hard, and as he continued moving steadily inside you, his eyes blinked open. They met your own, and he stared down at you with something like reverence in his gaze.

"I'm glad you're here," he gasped softly against your lips.

Your heart skipped a beat as he repeated his words from before. It was one thing hearing it in the quiet calm of lying together, but in the midst of the heat and passion, hearing them again gave them more weight, more substance. Even as he was deep inside you, he was still thinking about how grateful he was for you, that you were with him.

"I'll always be here," you promised quietly.

He let out a soft grunt at your words, his hips driving into with more force. Your eyes rolled back into your head as your whole body moved with each thrust. The rhythmic slapping of his skin against yours filled the air, and you couldn't help the quiet whine that left your throat as he pushed so deeply into you.

Your lips met his again in a desperate kiss. His hips thrust into you harder and faster now. You gasped as he pushed into you with greater need. The feeling of his cock moving deep inside of you was driving you insane, and your desire felt insatiable.

Miguel lowered his head to your neck, his hot breath fanning your skin as he continued passionately driving his cock into you. You felt his teeth graze against you, and a small whimper sounded in your throat. He growled at the sound and nipped gently at your flesh. You gave another small cry at the sensation, your fingers digging into his skin.

"You're so responsive," he murmured without lifting his head. "Every noise you make drives me crazy."

You moaned again for him. "It's because you feel so good," you whispered to him. "God, how do you always feel so fucking good?"

He groaned, thrusting into you over and over again with endless passion. Under his breath, he whispered your name. You could feel his hand sliding up your torso, until at last it found your own hand. His fingers entwined in yours and pinned it to the bed above your head.

You stared up at Miguel when he rested his forehead on yours. His eyes were closed as he fully immersed himself in the pleasure of your cunt. Small grunts sounded in his throat as he moved passionately in you, growing more and more hungry for his release until he couldn't hold back his sounds anymore.

With every thrust, he groaned softly in your ear. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to push deeper. You could feel how the hand that was entwined in yours trembled, and his arm that supported him above you buckled at the elbow.

"Fuck," he whispered, his voice taut. "I don't think I can last—"

You didn't let him finish his sentence before you yanked his mouth down to yours again. His moan tickled your lips as your tongue slid against his, and he shifted his body to release your hand. Before you could mourn the loss of that intimate connection, Miguel's hand drifted down your body until his thumb brushed just above where his cock was moving in and out of you.

You gasped as white-hot pleasure shot through you. Your thighs trembled with every circle he made over your clit, in time with each drive of his cock. Digging your fingers into his skin, you held him tightly while you cried out at his perfect touch.

"Oh god, Miguel," you whined, unable to say anything else. His thumb worked rhythmically, pressing down just hard enough that your hips bucked against him. He was breathing hard above you, thrusting with deep, hard strokes.

Your body tightened, and your breathing was growing shallow. You could scarcely think about anything as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to the edge of your release. Miguel, you knew, was also growing closer based on his grunts of pleasure.

You managed to look up at him and were immediately captivated by his face. His dark hair had fallen over his forehead which glistened with sweat. His full lips were parted as he panted, and his eyes were focused on you. His gaze was electrifying, and as he stared down at you, he whispered your name so softly, so reverently, that you could barely hear it over the sounds your bodies were making.

That was all it took to send you over the edge. You were barely able to make more than a strangled cry as your climax racked your body. Every nerve was set ablaze as wave after wave of indescribable pleasure crashed over you. Your back arched off the bed, and you pulled him down in a tight embrace, your shuddering body pressed against him.

Miguel became ravenous at the sight of your undoing. His hand moved quickly from your clit to wrap under your back as he gave himself over to his desire. His hard thrusts had you clawing at his back, completely overwhelmed with the sensation of his cock slamming into you.

Just as you were coming down from your high, Miguel found his. His body tensed and stilled, a loud, gasping moan filling the air as he spilled himself inside you.

Your body still trembled against his while you both gasped for breath. His skin felt hot and alive, and in the stillness between you, he pressed a sloppy kiss to your neck. Against your chest, you felt Miguel's erratic heart hammering in time with yours. You moaned as he rolled his hips into yours with a few lazy thrusts before he pulled out of you entirely.

You remained sprawled out on the bed while Miguel collapsed next to you with a grunt. For a while, it was silent except for the sounds of your heavy breathing. One of your arms was pressed against his, and the other was draped across your face as you recovered from the intensity of what he had just done to you.

Noticing your posture, Miguel turned to you and brushed his fingers across your cheek. "Are you okay?" He asked softly.

You huffed out a breath, your arm sliding off your face as you looked at him with a smirk. "You just made me cum three times," you told him. "I would say I'm better than okay."

His lips tilted up in a smile at you, and his eyes studied your face intently, taking in every detail of your features. You remembered then why he was even awake, how you were startled from sleep by his thrashing. You had almost forgotten about the terror you had seen in his face earlier that night.

As you leaned your face into his hand, you asked, "Are you okay?" He considered you for a moment, his subtle smile still on his lips. "I just made you cum three times, I'm better than okay," he replied smugly.

Your smile widened, and you rolled your eyes. "You're unbearable," you mumbled, causing him to chuckle. His fingers still traced over your skin, and he added quietly, "I'm always okay when I'm with you."

Your face softened. In the low light, you could just make out his features, the shape of his lips, the angle of his cheekbones, the honesty in his eyes. He was only ever like this, open and vulnerable, with you in bed, still coming off of the high of an orgasm. Outside of sex, he mostly interacted with you through sharp wit and banter. This was the only time he ever lowered his walls enough for you to see soft side of him.

Instead of responding to him, you moved closer until your lips met his gently. You held the kiss for a moment before resting your head down on the pillow next to him, looking into his face with admiration. He stared back at you for a moment with a faint smile on his lips until he closed his eyes as his smile faded, and he let out a deep sigh.

"Hmm?" You hummed questioningly.

"Hmm?" He echoed back, his eyes still closed.

"That sigh—what are you thinking about?" You asked him.

The corner of his lips quirked up. "Maybe I'm sighing just to sigh," he pointed out. You gave a disbelieving scoff. "A likely story," you replied sarcastically.

His smile widened, and he finally opened his eyes to look at you again. You stared at each other for a quiet moment, each waiting for the other to say something. Finally, he sighed again, and you smiled up at him questioningly.

"What?" You prompted quietly.

His faint grin disappeared from his lips, and his eyes roamed over ever inch of your face. "I just—I don't think you realize," he said at last, "the power you have over me."

You blinked in surprise. Whatever you had expected him to say, it wasn't that. Miguel must've read the emotions in your face because he smiled softly again and closed his eyes. "Too much power," he added quietly.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and your cheeks grew warm. He so rarely ever admitted that he cared about you. Despite all the nights like these, sweaty and breathless, and despite the pretty things he’d say in the heat of the moment, and despite the special gifts and treatment he gave you, Miguel hardly ever expressed with words how he felt about you. So, when he did, you often found yourself flustered by those rare confessions.

"Well," you began slowly, "I've heard that with great power comes—"

Miguel groaned, cutting you off. "Don't finish that sentence," he grumbled as he pulled you over to him so that your back pressed against his chest. You giggled, knowing that Miguel had probably heard every variation of your mantra during his time in the multiverse.

He nestled his face against your neck and wrapped his arm around your torso. His warmth enveloped you, and his breath tickled your skin. You rested your arm over his, entwining your fingers together.

"You have power over me, too," you told him quietly. "Way too much."

Miguel didn't say anything in response. A small part of you wondered if he had heard you, but then, he placed a lingering kiss on your shoulder and sighed.

"You should get some sleep," he said at last. "I'm sorry for waking you." You chuckled. "Well, I'm not," you replied wryly, earning a huff of amusement from him.  "And I need to get cleaned up."

He grunted his understanding, tightening his hold on you for just a moment before pulling his arm away to allow you to slip out of bed to the bathroom. When you returned, Miguel had the covers pulled back up, and his breathing was deep and slow.

You slid between the sheets and curled against his side. Even as he was drifting off, his arms pulled you into an embrace. Your own eyes felt heavy now that all your arousal had been satisfied. As you drifted off into sleep, you couldn't tell if you imagined it or if he really did mumble one last time, "I'm glad you're here."

[insxghtt]

the rage of a mother III — aemond targaryen x reader

When the whole kingdom believed you were mad, Aemond was there. And he would do anything to defend you.

warnings: grieve, violence, angst, blood, death, ptsd, this is some sad shit.

my masterlist.

previous chapter in here. ya’ll asked for part 3 so here it is! idk how many parts this will have but i like it and i hope you do too. again, english is not my first language so i’m sorry if you find any mistakes here.

It’s been two days since your child was taken from you. Aemond tried his best to convince you to get some sleep, but you just couldn’t. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw the black smoke on the form of a woman in front of you.

You tried to run to your baby before the witch, but it was too late. She took your little girl’s soul away. Now, you felt like she took yours too in the process, the only difference was that she left you to live without it.

Aemond took a look at you from the corner of his eye. You were across the room, sitting on a chair in front of the fireplace. He stood from the bed and walked to you, ready to say the same words he has been saying for the last couple days. ‘Please, y/n, come to bed. You need to sleep.’ All that effort only for you to ignore him.

But this time, when he got closer, he heard the sound of your voice.

“Aemma, Aemma, Aemma...”, you repeated the name of your daughter over and over again. “I’m here, my girl. Mommy’s here.”

Your gaze was on the fire. It was like the flames were calling you.

Aemond called your name once, but you didn’t answer.

“Aemma, Aemma...”

He took his hand to your shoulder and that simple touch was enough for you to flinch. You looked at him with wide eyes, filled with tears. Your dark circles made your tiredness very clear. You seemed so... broken.

He tried to say something, but you took your finger to your lips, telling him to be quiet. With the other hand, you held his wrist tight. “Can you hear it?”, you whispered. “Aemma is crying.”

Aemond gulped. The only sound in the room was your own voice. He remembered the rumors that ran around the castle. ‘She is insane.’

“My love, look at me”, he said and kneeled in front of you to look you in the eyes. “Aemma is not here anymore.”

To say it out loud was as painful as a stab on the heart, but he couldn’t stand to see the love of his life like that. You had to understand. Losing you would be too much for him to handle.

“Listen to me, y/n, she is gone now”, he repeated and let a tear fall. “I know you want her here, but we need to let her go.”

“Why do I hear her then?”, you cried, finally staring at him. “Am I cursed too? Have the gods not taken enough from me?”

He had no words. There were no words to make you feel better. All he did was wrap his arms around your fragile body and let you cry.

After that night, you never talked about your daughter again. In fact, you spent three days without saying anything at all. Aemond was there, just like he promised.

Some nights were difficult. You’d wake up sweating and scared. The first time it happened he asked you about the nightmares, but soon he realized how much you hated to talk about it.

You tapped his shoulder once again in the middle of the night with tears streaming down your cheeks. It didn’t take more than a minute for him to wake up. “Again?”, he asked.

You nodded without saying a word. Aemond wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, putting his face in the crook of your neck and you snuggled into his warm arms.

“Will it pass?”, you whispered, not even knowing if he was still awake.

He didn’t know the answer. How could he? It was hurting him just as much. The worst part was that he didn’t even know how to feel that kind of pain. Aemond never liked to feel things. For a long time, all he felt was anger. And when you met him and gave him a daughter, the two of you became his world. For the first time, he had lost someone he loved. It was way more painful than losing an eye.

“It will get better”, he answered. At least that was what he hoped for.

When the morning came, you prayed that he wouldn’t have to leave the bed. You knew that as soon as he did, both of you would have to deal with the reality. But your prayers were not enough and the sun reached your face. The birds were singing so beautifully that it didn’t even seem like there was a war going on.

Except that this time, you were the first to get up. Aemond grumbled something when he felt your warm body leaving his arms, but still, it was not enough to wake him up.

After everything you heard people saying about you, avoiding the maids became part of your routine. So, you got dressed by yourself. The last thing you needed was for them to create more rumors about your mental state.

You left your chambers after putting your gown on, without even bothering to braid your hair. For the first time since the loss of your daughter, you decided to walk a little around the garden outside the castle. It was still early and not many people were there. The weight on your shoulder begged you to go back to bed, but you were trying. Aemond needed you to be alright.

Hours went by and you didn’t even notice. The white daisies were doing a good job by making you forget about the pain inside of you. They were as beautiful as always. You wondered if Aemma would love them just as much as you did.

The sound of steps in your direction made you look away from the flowers. Ser Criston Cole was standing there, holding his helmet in one of his hands.

“My princess”, he said.

You never liked him. He might’ve been a good teacher to Aemond and a friend to Alicent, but you saw him as who he really was. An insecure and selfish man. You kept it to yourself, but it was inevitable not to feel uncomfortable in his presence.

“What do you want?”, you didn’t care to be polite. You were too exhausted to be polite, especially to someone like Ser Criston.

“There is someone who wishes to see you, my princess.”

“What? Are you a messenger now?”, you rolled your eyes and began to walk away. “Tell them I'm busy.”

“I was told that it’s really important.”

You stopped walking and turned to him once again. “Maybe you should call someone else then. I am sure you don’t want a mad woman like me to get involved in something so important.”

“I was sent to call only you, princess. Your presence is required.”

Ser Criston Cole did not seem happy to say those words. It was obvious for you to see how much he despised you, though you never quite understood why.  But he knew very well why you bothered him so much. You were not weak like an ideal princess should be. You never cared about what others said about you. You were ambitious. You reminded him of someone.

Without a word, you followed him around the caste until you got to the Iron Throne. Aegon was not there, but Alicent, Otto Hightower and Aemond were. The absence of the King’s presence did not surprise you. Aegon was usually excluded from the family’s reunions. Otto Hightower was the one who made the important choices, no matter how unfair it was to Aegon.

“I’m surprised you bothered to summon me to a family meeting", you said to Alicent.

Aemond sighed. He knew that you and his mother never loved each other. Your marriage was only accepted because King Viserys still lived to allow it. If it was up to her, you would’ve never stepped a foot in King’s Landing. But it seemed to him that things were just getting worse every day.

“If it were up to me, I would have let you rest. I know how hard these last few days have been for you, my lady”, she faked a sympathetic smile. “But a... friend from Dragonstone has arrived with news I believe you should hear.”

The guards opened the doors behind you and you turned around to see a man walking in, carried by two more guards. He looked terrible, to say the least. His eye was so swollen that you couldn’t even stand to look at it for too long. His lip was cut and blood dripped down his chin, staining his torn, old shirt. He fell to the ground as soon as the men dropped him, so week and scared that it made you look away. Your gaze turned to your husband. He stared at the poor man with no pity.

“Can you repeat to the princess what you told prince Aemond, traitor?”, Otto asked the man.

The traitor looked at the prince scared. And right then, you knew that Aemond was responsible for that man’s torture.

“Rhaenyra Targaryen...”, the man spoke with a low voice.

“Louder. And look at your princess when you speak, bastard”, Aemond said with anger in his voice.

The man did as he was told, trying his best not to stutter. “Rhaenyra Targaryen has been working with the shadows, my princess.”

Suddenly, your eyes were filled with tears from anger and hate. You told them. You told everyone and nobody but your husband believed your words.

“How?”, you asked.

“The witch of the woods, my princess...”

“Her name. I want her name.”

“Please, my princess... I was cursed...”, he begged, but you did not have a single drop of mercy in your heart now. “I cannot say her name... her gods will come for me”

You surprised everyone by stealing Ser Criston’s sword. He tried to stop you, but you were quicker and walked to the traitor, pointing the sword to his neck. “You will give me her name or I'll kill you so slowly that you will beg for her gods to take you.”

He continued to look at you quietly, crying and sobbing. You did not feel anything. Because of the witch those gods, whoever they were, took your daughter.

You could hear her crying. Was she scared?

You lowered the sword and the man breathed relieved. That was, until he heard your next words. “Take him to the dungeon.”

He looked at the guards terrified while they took him by the arms, raising him from the ground. He begged again for your mercy, but you didn’t even look at him.

“I will speak to him”, you said and looked at your husband. “Alone.”

part IV

taglist (dm me or send me an ask to be added): @hydrationqueensworld​ 

[cheatsykoopa98]

its 4 AM and im trying not to freak out, let me write something to see how I feel

Her eyes opened and closed repeatedly, slowly. The dim light coming from the window let her know that it was daytime, everything felt so fuzzy. What had happened? What time was it? Her arm reached to her side looking for something on her counter. Glasses? Phone? She didn't know for sure yet. Slowly she realized, this was not her room, it was clean, white walls with a brown carpet. She sat by the side of the bed, still not fully awake, feeling the soft carpet on her feet. It then came to her: She needed her glasses, and quickly reached for them again. A yawn overcame her and as her thoughts became clear, she noticed her surrounding. It was a very tidy bedroom, with horse decorations on the counter by the other side of the bed. Figurines and a small pony plushie sat by it. The half open closet door had a coat hanger with skirts and sweaters on it, barely visible coming out of it. She scratched her eyes under her glasses. Another yawn. It had been long since she felt so... Calm? Paying no mind to the apparently unfamiliar bedroom, she moved her feet around the sides of the bed, looking for any kind of footwear. She felt the rubber of a sole under the bed. Her crocs. Quickly she put it on with only her foot, while the other moved around looking for the pair. Another object touched her foot, a soft one, a slipper. Slightly bothered but too lazy to find each pair, she finally got up, opening the bedroom door. The morning sunlight blinding her for a second before her eyes adjusted to it. She could hear a faint noise not tol far away, the sound of someone talking, and the smell of food being prepared. Following it, she found the kitchen. The smell of grease from the fried eggs with bacon got to her nose and made her realize how hungry she was.

"Uh... Hello?" She muttered with a grumbly morning voice. Her head was still not wrapped around everything. It felt so comforable yet so alien. As if she had travelled to a different culture and was kindly taken in by some nice hosts.

"Oh did I wake you up? I'm so sorry, I shouldn't leave my phone so loud..." A woman in her 30s took notice of her. She was making breakfast while listening to the morning news on her phone, quickly grabbing it and turning off the livestream it was tuned to.

"Don't worry..." She muttered in response. She tried to take a closer look at the woman. She had curly reddish brown hair, small lips and a round nose. Her face was filled with freckles that were clearly visible despite her tan skin. What took some time to notice, though, was everything about her eyes. At first she thought she was seeing things, but upon looking more and more she could confirm. One eye blue, the other brown, both very bright. Even with her tired face one could see genuine happiness in them.

"Am I... Dreaming?"

"Aaw, you're still a little sleep groggy! Come here" The woman with bright eyes pulled a chair, inviting the other to sit down. As she did, the woman put a plate and silverware in front of her, with fried eggs and bacon.

"I think I don't usually have breakfast, but... Thank you" She tried to smile, but she was still confused. She had to ask.

"Is this really not a dream? I'm... not sure what to think"

"Oh, well... I can't say I do either, honestly" The woman responded. "If you don't like it I can make something else! I can go out and buy..." The woman suddenly appeared to be getting nervous.

"No, this is good, but... Where am I? I remember the circus..." Suddenly the woman held her hand.

"The circus is gone Pomni... I mean, Pam. Everything is fine now" It was all clear now. Pam. Pamela! She had escaped that horrible nightmare. This wasn't just some woman, it was her wife. Tears came to her eyes.

"Oh... You're right..." Pamela smiled a bit, feeling whole while taking one of the bacons to eat.

"I know it's our first day out of the hospital, I just wanted to make it special, you know? I don't like thinking you're having a bad first experience..." Annie tapped her fingertips on the table nervously.

"Rag... Annie... This is delicious, did you know that?" Pamela had a bigger smile on her face, a genuine one she couldn't have afforded for years.

"Look... I'm sorry, this is all so new to me... I just... Thank you..."

"Hey, it's all cause I love you!" Annie winked and did finger guns at Pamela's direction, waving them around in a "get it?" motion. Pamela giggled. They kissed.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long..." Pamela muttered close to Annie's lips, as they both smiled looking at each other passionately.

"We'll be doing that a lot, new stuff" Annie smiled as they kissed once more. Suddenly, Annie's phone vibrated on the kitchen counter, getting both of their attention. Annie picked it up, looking at the screen, a familiar number

"It's work stuff" She showed the phone screen to Pam, rolling her eyes, to which she giggled a bit.

"Hello?"

As Annie talked on the phone, her usual look of happiness faded. Whatever she heard shook her. She fell sitting on the floor, sliding down the side of the counter. Pamela jumped in to aid her wife.

"W-What happened?! What did they say?!" She questioned, anxious and scared. Maybe she did not want to hear the answer.

"A new adventure is about to begin! And what circus is complete without it's performers?!"

"w-what?"

"It's time to come back, Pomni! Your time out is on time out!!!"

Pamela looked behind her. No kitchen. No house. Just the monstrous, gigantic dentures and millions of eyes everywhere, looking at her. The mere sight of it was enough to make her dizzy. Looking closer, she realized she stood atop a giant pole, ready to jump into a tiny pool.

"Caine... What the..." As words couldn't leave her throat. Where was Annie? Pomni spun around trying to find her, only to lose her balance and fall.

She couldn't scream, for her lungs were filled with tears, and with a gurgling noise, she hit the floor next to her couch. A dream. There was no daylight. She remembered this place. Her run down apartment. All she could afford. Her clothes scattered on the bed, waiting to be folded. Paper bags from groceries she forgot to take out close to a full trash can. The living room illuminated by her phone, which she was watching videos on before falling asleep.

She was breathing heavily, her eyes jolting around, looking for danger anywhere, but still she was unable to move or turn around. Just shaking and moving her eyeballs. She bit her nails and scratched her cheeks. It was like second nature to her. She felt like crying, but was too scared to let her guard down.

That is, until she felt a hand touching her hair. It was clumsy, but still soft.

"Hmrr... Are you ok, Pam...?" A sleepy voice grumbled. Annie's voice, much to Pamela's surprise. As it slowly came back to her.

"I... Had a nightmare... About the circus again..." She said with teary eyes. Annie grumbled something she couldn't make out, before slowly pulling Pamela back to the couch, closer to her. She could feel Annie's soft skin and soothing smell. Her soft carressing on her hair. The safety and warmth of her embrace. Slowly but surely, she felt home.

[sadiegirl2021]

My submission for @gwynrielweeksofficial on Ao3

One bed trope mixed with firsts!

Where It All Started - Sneak Peak

It all began innocently enough.

One night, Gwyn found herself ensnared in a recurring nightmare, the kind that relentlessly disturbed her sleep. Azriel's shadows had woken him up, whispering that Gwyn needed his help. He hadn’t been in her room before. She’d claimed one near his own a few months ago, finally accepting Nesta’s offer to live in the main house.

Without hesitation, Azriel, armed with his trusty dagger, hurried to her room, ready to defend his friend. But, upon entering, he discovered no external threat—only Gwyn thrashing feverishly in bed, repeatedly uttering the word 'no.'

“Gwyn,” he called gently, hesitant to touch her. He instructed his shadows to shake her lightly while trying to call to her again.

“Gwyn!” This time she responded, shooting up out of bed, startled and frantic, scanning her surroundings for intruders, sweat coating her body.

“It was just a nightmare,” Azriel reassured her, settling himself at the foot of her bed while reaching for her hand.

“It felt so real,” she said, her breaths coming in pants, unshed tears threatening to fall.

Azriel squeezed her hand in comfort. She willed herself not to cry, running through her mind-stilling, trying to calm herself.

He copied her breathing in solidarity, wondering if she had bad dreams like this in the priestess dormitories and how they would soothe her back to sleep. All he could offer was his patience.

When Gwyn had finally calmed, Azriel dropped her hand, moving to leave her to sleep. “I’ll be down the hall if you need me,” he said, offering a small smile as he rose.

She grabbed his hand back before he could leave. “Az….”

He looked at her with a softness she rarely saw. “Yes?”

“Can you stay with me tonight… please?”

Azriel nodded. He moved to grab one of the chairs near the fireplace to place beside her bed.

"Can you sleep beside me, maybe hold me? My sister used to do that when I had nightmares," she interjected.

Azriel nodded once more but glanced down at himself. He had rushed into her room so quickly that he was only now painfully aware he was in just his undershorts. "Do you want me to put more clothes on first?" he asked tentatively.

She probably should have been more concerned about his lack of dress, but she trusted Azriel. He could be completely bare, and she knew he wouldn’t touch her without permission. "No, it’s fine," she replied, pulling the blanket down for him to join her in bed.

They adjusted until Azriel’s arm enveloped her shoulders, and her face nestled against his chest. He couldn’t help but inhale her scent as her hair brushed against his nose. It was hypnotic, lavender and sun-kissed oceans. Had anyone ever smelt so divine to him? His wing instinctively wrapped around her like an extra blanket of protection against the world.

“Thank you, Azriel… It’s coming up to the anniversary of losing Catrin. The nightmares are always worse around this time.”

Azriel’s heart squeezed. He should have remembered it was coming up, but he tried to block out the memories of that day as much as possible.

“Of course, Gwyn. I’m always here for you… we all are,” he reassured her, placing a gentle kiss on her head. She snuggled closer, holding him tighter. Azriel could get used to this. He couldn’t remember the last time he just held someone. He was usually all business when it came to intimacy. Trousers were back on right after, and he was out the door before he could be roped into pillow talk.

But this was nice. Gwyn felt so soft and warm, and he couldn’t resist tracing soothing circles along her arm as he listened to the rhythmic beating of her heart. He willed his own to beat in sync.

It felt right being with her in this way, an additional means to comfort and protect her. Lately, he found himself doing that quite often—keeping a watchful eye on her during training, strolling a bit closer to her in the city, sitting beside her at dinner… and breakfast, and sometimes lunch! If she noticed the extra attention, she didn't mention it. They were friends after all… maybe even more than that. He was drawn to her. And not just because she was the most beautiful female he'd ever met, but because she was so much more than that. She was strong, fierce, and competitive. And he loved spending time with her.

“Azriel,” Gwyn whispered.

“Yes?” he replied, feeling extremely relaxed. Which was rare for him.

“What are you thinking about?”

He smiled to himself, “I was thinking you might be the best friend I’ve ever had.”

She laughed against his chest, “Wow! Don’t tell Nesta that!” He chuckled in agreement.

“Do your shadows sleep?” she asked.

Azriel hummed a ‘yes’.

“Where?”

“In the corner, under the bed, beside the door… anywhere dark.”

Gwyn went quiet, and he could feel himself falling asleep. That was until she asked, “Did they tell you I was dreaming?”

“Yes,” he confirmed while letting out a yawn he couldn’t hold back.

He could feel Gwyn smile against his chest, “Do you want me to stop talking now?”

“No, no… I’m fine,” he answered, his voice unconvincing as he held in a second yawn. Staying awake seemed impossible.

Gwyn chuckled. “Goodnight, Azriel,” she murmured, placing a tiny kiss against him, right on his heart.

Azriel tightened his grip on her. “Goodnight, Gwyn.”

Within moments, he drifted into oblivion, Gwyn not far behind.

They both slept soundly, undisturbed by anything else for the rest of the night.

[faistoconnors]

ivy - A. Donaldson x Reader

Summary: Illicit affairs lead to uncertain endings

WC: 1k-ish

Warnings: infidelity (everyone is with everyone pretty much don't ask me), drinking (not a lot), secret affair, bastardized polycule, ask to tag

AN: I am having withdrawals really bad and can't tell if this is at all coherent. It hasn't been proofread, it hasn't been edited, and maybe I'll fix that later but for now I don't really feel like it! You guys can have my mess for now. Hope you like!!

How's one to know?

I'd meet you where the spirit meets the bones

In a faith forgotten land

In from the snow

Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow

Tarnished but so grand

The hotel room is always cold. Once, you’d tried another one, but it didn’t feel the same when you didn’t have to cling to his light. The window is slightly broken, glass pushed up out of its frame, cold seeping in around the edges.

And the old widow goes to the stone every day

But I don't, I just sit here and wait

Grieving for the living

The minutes tick by slowly, time seeming to slow as you anticipate him. This, of course, isn’t meant to last. Soon, life will return to how it was before, and you’ll sit quietly, heart mourning someone who hasn’t died, face displaying the placid expression of a good wife.

Oh, goddamn

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Taking mine, but it's been promised to another

Fire and ice. Art always seemed to understand you, understand just what made you hurt and what made you smile. You could understand why he had been ice, with his cold hands matching the chill of the room. But the warmth he made you feel was more befitting of your husband’s title, really. 

Oh, I can't

Stop you putting roots in my dreamland

My house of stone, your ivy grows

And now I'm covered in you

One night, you laid at home, your husband beside you in bed snoring quietly. You’d been jolted awake, not by nightmare or bad dream, but by sheer longing. The dream had been so lifelike, so realistic, that for a moment, you’d thought you were at the Super 8 again. Art had moved so quietly into your life, like ivy creeping up the walls of the house you called home. Soon enough, without even realizing it,he had engulfed the house. He was home. 

I wish to know

The fatal flaw that makes you long to be

Magnificently cursed

It was a mystery why he’d chosen this. Art Donaldson had everything. His wife, his fame, his fortune… then again, it was hardly a mystery at all.

He's in the room

Your opal eyes are all I wish to see

He wants what's only yours

The gala for the Donaldson foundation was lively. Your husband’s arm wrapped around your waist, you moved about the room. People snapped pictures of you and the man, but most of the focus surrounded Art and Tashi, sitting at their table quietly talking under their breath. The man whose hand was rubbing at your back made no effort to hide the way his gaze was fixed on Mrs. Donaldson, and Art made no effort to hide the way he watched you. 

Oh, goddamn

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Taking mine, but it's been promised to another

The hotel in Atlanta was plastered in posters of him, all blond hair and bright smiles. You watched as your husband and Tashi disappeared together out the door. It was only when you felt a set of fingers brush against yours that you turned around, saw the posters come to life. He was staring down at your left hand, at the huge rock weighing it down. 

“Where did they go?” was his first question, voice strained.

“Where didn’t they?” came your hushed voice. 

That was the first night you shared.

Oh, I can't

Stop you putting roots in my dreamland

My house of stone, your ivy grows

And now I'm covered

Clover blooms in the fields

Spring breaks loose, the time is near

What would he do if he found us out?

The door creaks open, breaking you out of your stupor. A flash of a smile, and he’s by your side before you can fully take him in. His hair is more manicured now, face drawn, the thirteen years between when you met and the present day showing up in more ways than one. 

Beneath the excitement, the thrill of it all, is an undercurrent of fear. As the snow outside begins to melt, Art and Patrick will return to tennis together, the unstoppable duo they once were. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll be caught, but your husband was never a stupid man. It’s mutually beneficial for all of you; you and Art will see each other behind your spouse’s backs, they will do the same, and the public will be none the wiser. Still, it has to stay an unspoken agreement. Patrick Zweig was never one to share. 

Crescent moon, coast is clear

Spring breaks loose, but so does fear

He's gonna burn this house to the ground

In the afterglow of it all, when you return home, you don’t think to clear your notifications. You don’t have his number saved, but when Patrick glances at the phone on the nightstand, he sees the words ‘Almost there. Same room, same time?’. Silence falls over the room.

How's one to know?

I'd live and die for moments that we stole

On begged and borrowed time

Two years pass by like a lightning flash. Neither of you try to reach out to each other. There will be no more stolen glances, no more nighttime rendezvous. Just memories, and the sensation in your heart that feels quite like a missing tooth. You’ll poke your tongue in the gap, and it will feel all wrong, space that shouldn’t be there at all. 

So tell me to run

Or dare to sit and watch what we'll become

And drink my husband's wine

When Tashi sends you and Patrick an invitation to dinner to ‘discuss plans for the future of the brand’, you’re hesitant, though you don’t show it. Patrick brings a bottle of his best wine, and you hover near the car for a beat too long, staring at the man you love.

Their garden is expansive, tall hedges and massive rosebushes winding a path down to a small, shallow pond. You reminisce on the time Patrick taught you to skip stones as you toss them across the still water, but the silence is quickly shattered by the shadow falling across the lawn beside you. 

“We could just leave,” comes his quiet voice in your ear. He’s tipsy, not drunk, but Art could never handle his liquor, or keep his mouth shut after a few drinks. “Just- just run, take a plane somewhere else. Far away.”

“It would be too messy, Art,” you whisper back. “The press, they’d go insane.”

“It’d die down soon enough,” he protests, gives a hiccup as you look over at him. 

“Artie baby. I’m sorry.”

Now I'm covered in you

In you

[rose-pearls]

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend - Part 2

Summary: a talk on the beach reveals somethings and Snow takes you by surprise

Previous Part - Next Part

The beach was beautiful, the breeze going through her hair made Finnick stop in his steps for a moment as he looks at her. Her eyes look haunted while looking towards the ocean like it would hold all of the answers to her questions. She had been doing her tour for the last month and had arrived this morning, shaking district 4 into once again preparing a big feast to welcome the winner of the Hunger Games. 

He sits next to her and waits for her to acknowledge him, he watches the ocean just like she has been doing, trying to ignore the memories of the recent nightmare he had. They stay like that for a moment just looking at the ocean before she breaks the silence.

“Do you think I’m a bad person?”, Finnick can’t help but take a deep breath at her question, they had survived the Hunger Games by killing people so could they really be seen as good people. 

“You aren’t, the games are.”, he hears her scoff softly and he looks at her, a frown adorns her face.

“I killed so many people to try and save her just for her to get killed by my fault because I couldn’t protect her.”, she says and Finnick can’t help but close his eyes at her words, the raw emotion in her voice makes him sick.

“You can never control anything in the arena, especially not someone’s life. It wasn’t your fault.”, he whispers after a moment and silence follows his statement before he hears a few sniffles.

“I’m just so tired. Tired of seeing her in my dreams at night, hearing about her and knowing that I couldn’t do anything.”, she says while her voice breaks through the words and Finnick turns to look at her. Tears are streaming down her cheeks as she bites her bottom lip to try and not to cry. 

“I can’t tell you that the nightmares will get better because they will always be there, but you have people that are here to help you. Let them in, it’s worth it. I promise.”, a few tears roll down her cheeks and after a few seconds she chuckles.

“You’re not so bad Finnick Odair.”, Finnick chuckles at her words and smiles as he sees a small smile appear on her lips as she looks at him.

“I live to please.”, he tries to say cheekily but it falls a bit flat, still it makes her laugh and he enjoys the sight of her laughing.

They turn back to look at the ocean and Finnick tries for the first time to try and find something to say to her, but nothing comes to mind. Only one question continues to nag him, but he doesn’t know if he should ask her.

“Why did you come out here?”, he says softly after a moment and listens to her taking a deep breath.

“Couldn’t fall asleep, I was turning around in bed and then memories came back, and it felt suffocating.”, Finnick nods slowly at her words before looking at her.

“How do you feel now? Do you want to talk about it?”, Haymitch had told him that she didn’t talk to him, sometimes she would talk with Peeta but not often. He had also told him that something had happened at their return in district twelve, but he hadn’t been able to tell him what. 

“When I came back and went to see my parents, they could barely look at me in the eyes. I tried to talk to them but the only thing they did was shove me a bag with my clothes in my hands and tell me that they didn’t want a murderer as a daughter.”, he feels sick at her words and closes his eyes for a moment. As he opens them again to look at her, she is holding her legs close to her, eyes glassy as she looks at the ocean.

“Then I saw Gale, I used to like him, and he yelled about the fact that I killed Prim and that I shouldn’t have come back.”, Finnick tries not to let the anger take over at her words, but it quickly dies down as he sees a tear roll down her cheeks.

He comes closer to her and carefully puts an arm around her shoulders, not sure if he is allowed to touch her but she leans into his touch and Finnick puts his other arm around her while she sobs. 

“it’s okay. I got you.”, he whispers softly as he rubs his hand comfortingly against her back while she sobs into his chest. They stay like that for some time until her sobs quiet down and Finnick keeps her close, feeling for the first time in his life protective over someone that isn’t family.

“I met a girl; her name was Annie and I had to mentor her during her games. I immediately felt protective over her and when she got out of the arena by some miracle, I discovered I fell in love with her.”, he says softly, trying not to let the tears take over at the memories coming back to him, he doesn’t know why he is telling her this but he wants to.

“Everything was great for a moment until Snow learned about my feelings for her and then it all went to hell. I had to prostitute myself, I already had to do it before but then even more to protect her. I did it at the beginning, but it made her go crazy, the arena hadn’t been kind to her but just a little thing could make her go into a panic.”, she left the embrace to look at him, shock in her eyes at his words and Finnick sighs before looking at the sand under him.

“One night I was with a client, she went into a panic attack, and no one was there to help her. She died minutes after.”, he says and hears her take a shaky breath at his words.

“Finnick.”, she whispers softly but he shakes his head before looking up towards her.

“You don’t have to say anything, I don’t even know why I told you this.”, he says while letting out a shaky chuckle. 

“You don’t have to pretend you’re fine.”, he hears her whisper, and he can’t help but close his eyes at her words to try and not let the tears fall down his cheeks.

“I should’ve been there, I-”, he starts to say but is quickly cut off by her voice.

“It isn’t your fault, no matter what anyone says it isn’t.”, Finnick can’t help but let a few tears escape at her words, a hand takes his and he opens his eyes to see her smiling softly at him. 

“I’m so sorry this happened to you. But I promise you, you didn’t do anything wrong.”, he squeezes her hand in thanks and she smiles sadly at him. 

“They fucked us up really bad didn’t they.”, he says while laughing coldly and he hears her huff a laughter.

“That they did.”, she whispers softly and Finnick doesn’t even realize he is still holding her hand as they look at the ocean while the sun starts appearing. 

A yell can be heard inside the house and the both of them turn around to see Effie running around looking worried while a sleepy Haymitch and Peeta follow after her.

“She wasn’t in her bed! Where could she be?”, they hear her yell and Finnick turns to look at the girl next to him who is smiling at the scene.

“I guess this is my cue to go back.”, she says and Finnick chuckles as Effie yells at Haymitch to help find you.

“I guess it is. Good luck with the mother hen.”, he says cheekily, and she laughs at his words.

“Thank you for everything.”, she whispers shily and Finnick can’t help but chuckle softly at her sudden shyness. 

“You don’t have to thank me, we’re victors we have to stick together.”, she nods her head slowly before squeezing his hand one last time before leaving towards the house.

He watches her leave before turning around and looking at the ocean, for once feeling at peace. Effie’s voice can be heard into the distance as her victor arrives and Finnick can’t help but smile at the escort’s worried voice. He misses her already; he doesn’t know why as they just met but he shakes the feeling off as he gets up to get ready for the day.

--

The next time he sees her is at the big ball at Snow’s mansion to celebrate the end of her tour. He knows just as well as the rest of the victors that she will be ending the night at Snow’s desk and be told that she will be sold to the highest bidders until they aren’t interested anymore.

“Some people are saying that she will be even more popular than you.”, Johanna says with a disgusted expression and Finnick can’t help but mirror it.

“I don’t recommend it.”, he says and Johanna snorts at his words.

“Cheers to that.”, she says before Brutus arrives and they start to argue about something.

Haymitch, Peeta and Katniss arrive towards them and judging by Peeta’s face you are probably talking with Snow right now. Katniss looks pale, her dress looks beautiful, but her cheeks are hollow like she hasn’t eaten in days, and they all look tired. 

“Who needs a drink?”, he hears Johanna say and everyone agrees at her words, she quickly takes a plate of drinks from a server and lets everyone take a glass.

“Let me guess, she is in the lion’s den.”, Brutus says after a moment and Haymitch sighs while nodding.

Before any of them can say anything, they see her arrive, her silver dress hugging her body to show it off to everyone just like all of the victors. 

“You’re alright kid?”, Haymitch says as she arrives and she nods slowly, disbelief written on her face.

“He doesn’t want to sell me.”, she barely manages to whisper, and they all look at her like she has grown a second head. 

“What do you mean?”, Johanna says, and all of the victors look at the girl in front of them.

“He says that the capitol needs to have something they can’t have, to show that he still has control over them. Doesn’t mean I won’t get paraded around but just to show them what they can’t have. He also said he has something planned for later.”, she whispers the last sentence after a moment and Finnick looks at Johanna in surprise.

“I guess the old man really is getting crazy.”, Johanna says and Haymitch snorts at her words before looking at his victor.

“I would say congratulation but if he has something planned it can’t be good.”, they all agree, and he sees her looking pale. Curious glances are thrown their way and Finnick knows they have to split up before people start to suspect something.

“Why don’t we go dance?”, Finnick says towards her, and she looks at him in surprise before nodding and taking his hand.

The dance goes smoothly, and he makes a few jokes about the people there to make her laugh and relax, by some miracle it works, and she starts telling him some things she saw. The song ends after a few minutes, and he brings her towards Haymitch but before he does, he whispers two important words.

“Be careful.”, she looks at him surprised but he leaves before she can say anything, he has an appointment to get to.

[romanarose]

Talk to Me

Santiago Garcia x afab!reader

Join my taglist!

Main Masterlist : Triple Frontier Masterlist

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi

Summary: You open up to Santi about being sexually assaulted.

Warnings: Description of sexual assault. Just all the warnings there. Santi responds how I'd like a partner to respond in this setting (Ideally I'd like them to kill my rapists but unfortunetly this is the real world :(). Just be aware this could potentially be very triggering but I was trying to find a fic like this and couln't so I just made it.

Immersivity: Reader is so longer in teens (meaning not 18 or 19) I think thats it. gender neuatral but reader is AFAB

A/N as is the natue for many of these kinds of stories, I am describing my real life experience. Everyone is different, and no matter what, how you responded (fight flight freeze or fawn) or how you got into that position or how old you were, weather it involved physical violence or coercion or alcohol it's all traumatizing its all awful and you deserve to be heard and believed and comforted, and to have some form of justice whatever that may look like for you.

"It was stupid, honestly." You mutter, sitting up against the headboard of Santi's bed.

Santiago Garcia was the first guy you dated that had anything more than a box spring on the floor and who washed his legs, so things had been looking up. You were staying over at Santi's place, enjoying a nice saturday in, and dozed off only to be woken up by Santiago trying to be playful. He had grabbed your ankle, tugging at you saying 'wakey wakey eggs and bakey! Well, there's not eggs. Or bacon honestly. But I can doordash some- are you okay?'

You had begun to have a panic attack, something that Santi wasn't knew to handling with you. Over the months you were dating, he came to know your anxiety and depressive episodes, learning how to help deal with them. He wasn't knew to mental health: Will had PTSD bad enough he used to black out. Ben suffered from nightmares and panic attacks. Frankie buried his depression in addiction.

Today was different. Other times the panic attacks came from general anxiety things. Life surrounding Santi... today, it was clear he triggered it. He felt awful, an absolute wreck, making you cry when all he ever wanted to do was make you smile. So, he helped calm you down, and when you were ready, he broached the subject. He had suspected for a while now that someone had hurt you, but seeing as the relationship was fairly new still he didn't think it was his place to ask.

Now, the two of you sit together on his bed, parallel. You couldn't look in his eyes.

"It's not stupid. I promise."

You huff, crossing your arms and sinking into the bed just a little. "The whole ankle thing wasn't even that actual night, but a few weeks before. It was college. I had this group of friends I worked with and partied with a lot. Usually at this one couples place where a fuck ton of people lived. It was my friends place so we got drunk and I crashed on the couch when everyone went to bed. I was passed out but not like... not unconcious. In and out of sleep I guess. This guy who lived there with his pregnant girlfriend, Kody, he sat on the other end of the couch and just... started touching my ankles and legs. Massaging kinda. He occasionally said things to me that I dunno... made me feel good I guess. Maybe he was calling me hot but I don't remember. I just remember I'd pull my leg away sometimes and he'd keep touching or would wait until I stretched out again. I never really liked my legs touched. Tickleish I guess. But he wouldn't quit. I had the distinct feeling if I fell asleep he'd um... touch more."

You can hear Santi take a deep breath. "But he didn't that night?"

You shake your head. "My friends boyfriend came out and grabbed him. Said something like 'what the fuck is wrong with you' or something. Then put him in his room where his girlfriend was."

"He knew he was trying something."

"Yeah, I guess."

"And they still stayed friends?"

You can't help chuckle darkly at the nievty. "bro's before hoes."

But Santi isn't having it.

"What- that not-"

"Would you really stop being friends with one of the guys if you knew they-"

"They wouldn't. They aren't like that."

"I know. But if they did."

"Gone. No questions asked." The resolution in his voice made you smile.

"Anyway." You sigh. "Doesn't matter because a few weeks later I partied with them again and it happened so. I did that to myself." The tears and shame well up in your eyes, and Santiago grabs your hand.

"It's not your fault, amor. It's his, only his. Your were a teenager."

"Old enough to know better."

"Stop it."

"Old enough to know I shouldn't have gotten turned on."

Santi remained quiet at that, letting you continue.

You rest your head on his shoulder. "I was horny. Like, mad horny back then. He kept feeding me drinks and for hours he would touch me whenever people weren't looking. I was so fucking drunk, Santi. Like, the kind where you just puke int he bathroom then go back to partying. After a while I didn't just go along with it I kinda... I touched him too." With that, you begin to cry and Santiago pulls you into his arms as you finish. "We went to my dorm and he... he followed me but I let him in and I didn't fight back, and and, and, it felt good and I hated that it felt good and I hated that he knew how to touch me and I hated that he was complimenting me the whole time and I just wanted it to stop! I wanted to start screaming, I wanted to but thought about how I touched him back and my friend saw us kiss and... I just knew there was no way to prove anything. I knew it would just be embarrassing. He was a shift lead at work and I was new and I just knew there was no way anyone would believe me..."

"Baby..." Santiago's heart was broken, holding you closely to him and wishing he had been there, wishing he could have protected you.

"Eventually I started passing out. Most of my memories of that night were blacked out anyway... I couldn't even get into the car by myself. I just kinda... gave up, I guess. I let sleep take take me and let him do whatever. Sometimes I woke up and just went back to sleep. I couldn't even lift my head anymore."

Santiago rubbed your back soothingly. It felt nice to have him there. You ran those two nights through your head again and again, all alone, it was such a comfort to be held by someone you trusted while you think throught it.

"What happened in the morning, baby love? Was he gone?"

You're griping his shirt tight. "No. He fell alseep in bed with me, in the shitty twin mattress I had lofted. I just... i remember his sticky skin. I think about that a lot. I was delirious still but needed to get away so I stumbled my way to the couch and slept for I don't know how long. Then my alarm went off and I needed to go to math class because I wasn't doing good. I had to.... I had to go back to my room and wake him up. I didn't wanna touch him but he needed to leave. I just remember thinking 'I have class, I can't miss class' which like... should be the least of my worries. Anyway he um... He got up eventually and walked home. I tried not to interact with him after that. I dropped out at the end of the semester." You rub your face on Santi's sleep shirt, aware you're getting snot on it.

"He um... it was.... inside... I was just in shock for the next week, you know? I didn't get any plan B and then it was too late... So I just prayed and prayed I wasn't pregnant. I don't know what I would have done, honestly, but their weren't any abortion clinics nearby so. Who knows. All I know is every time some old politician man wants to make a rule banning abortions, they'll never be 19 sobbing between classes in the bathroom begging for their period to come."

He let you cry for a while, let out all your sobs and heaves and snot while he rubbed your back, whispering sweet nothing into your ear. When it was done, when you'd cried it all out finally, Santiago pulls you onto his lap, straddling him. He cups your face in his hands, looking you directly in the eye so you could feel the honest in them. A single dark curl fell over his forehead.

"I love you. I believe you. I don't blame you." He tilts your head down to press a chaste kiss on your nose. "I don't blame you for how you felt when he manipulated your body. I don't blame you forgoing back and partying with him after he touched your legs. I don't blame you for not getting plan B or wanting to get to math class or touching him. If you were so drunk you could barely walk, if you were blacking out, there's not way he could have consented. You were innocent."

You hug him.

A tight, child-like hug, clinging to him like your lifeboat in a storm, the anchor that keeps you grounded.

This is what you needed to hear. You needed to know that even if you weren't this idea of the perfect victim, you were still a victim. You were taken advantage of raped by a man who saw you as simply something to use, and it wasn't your fault.

Thank you so much for reading.

The year after this hapened to me was really bad, almost loft my life a few times. Words cannot describe how badly this broke me as a person, and my friends were extremely worried about me.

Againn, this was extremely self indulgent. I needed to hear these words from my beloved Santi, my sweet man <3

I love you all, and it wasn't your fault.

you can keep up by joining my tag list, joining my tumblr community, or following @romana-updates

[imyourbratzdoll]

I’m not really sure what might equate to ‘angst’ but miscommunication between reader and Steve over something like the way Sharon talks to him

Reader getting upset and Steve not understanding why, him also getting upset about it all

Maybe some time apart

Hopefully that makes sense?

hello, I'm sorry if this is bad and for taking so long.

summary - there's been a misunderstanding in your relationship, does it get sorted?

warning - angst, swearing, slight fluff, anxiety.

the gif I use isn't mine, dividers by @firefly-graphics and @newlips

Steve didn’t understand what he did wrong. One minute, you were happy and talking to him, and the next, you were cold and distant. He walked to your shared room, hand coming up to knock on the door. “Baby? Please talk to me.” He can hear you crying, but he really doesn’t understand why. The last time he saw you was when Sharon came up to him, and he didn’t hear anything she was saying because his primary focus was you.

“Go away!” He was so confused. How could things change so drastically? 

“Okay… I’ll, uh, I’ll be around.” Steve cleared his throat, blinking away tears. He walks away, deciding to try and work out his emotions.

You sit on the bed, knees to your chest, as you cry your heart out. How could this happen? One minute you and Steve were happy, and the next, you walked in on him and Sharon flirting. The sight of Sharon touching his arm as she giggled will forever be imprinted in your mind. You didn’t mean to snap at Steve when he knocked on the door, but you felt stupid.

Stupid for thinking someone like him would stay with someone like you. Because if he walked into the room and saw your tear-filled face, he’d regret ever asking you out.

You knew that you probably should talk to Steve and tell him what was wrong but what if that opened his eyes? Made him realise he could do better? Your anxiety was holding you back, and sometimes that sucked.

You end up lying down, wrapping yourself in the blanket and drifting off to a nightmare-filled sleep. Tossing and turning all night, and when morning came. It was no better because you noticed that Steve came in during the night, and most of his belongings were gone. This had caused your heart to race, a panic attack coming out of nowhere.

F.R.I.D.A.Y noticed this and asked if you’d like her to get Captain Rogers, but you said no. Because what was the use? If he came in and took his things, why would he come and help you?

It had been a couple of weeks since that day, and you and Steve hadn’t spoken. The team had noticed this, mainly because Steve would mope around the compound, and you hadn’t left the room. They had also seen Sharon hanging around Steve a lot more.

You had decided today was the day to get some fresh air finally, and discuss everything with Steve. You won’t lie. Steve ignoring you did hurt. You had showered and brushed your teeth, changing into a fresh pair of clothes before leaving the room. Deciding the kitchen should be the first place as you haven’t eaten anything.

When you entered the room, the team stopped. Staring at you with wide eyes, you gave them a small smile before your eyes landed on Steve, feeling a punch to the stomach when you noticed Sharon practically hanging off him. You swallow and walk over to the fridge, ignoring the pang in your heart at the thought of Steve moving on without even breaking up with you.

You quickly grab a bottle of water and some fruit, giving everyone a nod before leaving the room and heading outside. Finding a nice tree to sit under as you ate, not knowing that Steve followed, finally being able to break free of Sharon. “Y/n!” Your eyes widen, staring up at Steve as he gets closer. He quickly falls to his knees and pulls you into a hug. “Oh, god! I’ve been so worried about you. I tried asking F.R.I.D.A.Y about you, but she wouldn’t tell me, and she’d only let me into the room to grab my things. I was warned not to wait or wake you. I’m so sorry! I don’t know what I did, but whatever it was, I’m terribly sorry!” He cries, burying his face into your neck.

You pluck the grass underneath you. “You didn’t seem so worried with Sharon on your arm….” Steve looks up, brows furrowed.

“Is that what this was about? Because I will never want her. I tried pushing her away, but she wouldn’t fuck off.” He’s so frustrated, wishing he wasn’t such a gentleman at times so he could tell another woman to leave him alone.

Your brow raised, “language.” You smile softly as he glares at you before getting serious and nervously looking down at your hands. “So… That day that I walked in and she was giggling and touching your arm… was?” 

“Nothing. I barely even noticed she was there, and when you walk into a room, all of my attention goes to you.” His hand holds your cheek, staring intensely into your eyes. “Trust me. I love you.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[damiansgoodgirll]

PLEASE I BEG YOU CAN YOU MAKE RHEA COMFORT READER AFTER A NIGHTMARE

PLEASE ❤️❤️

rhea ripley x reader

it’s just me and you

“baby…wake up please” rhea was calling your name but you were too into the dream you were having to hear her talking to you.

“honey, wake up it’s just a dream…” she shook your body a little but you wouldn’t want to wake up.

everything was black around you and you were all alone. you called for rhea but she never replied. you felt cold, almost too freezing for your liking. you kept calling for help, for someone to hear you but no one was there for you. you were scared, terrified. you were all alone but you felt that you weren’t alone, something was in the room with you. you started running even if you had nowhere to run. you just wanted to escape and find yourself in the comfort of rhea’s embrace.

“c’mom sweetie, it’s just a dream, wake up please” rhea was scared. this was her first time seeing you having a nightmare. she knew it wasn’t your first time but since you started sleeping together you felt calm and you’ve never had a bad dream.

so why now?

“y/n please, wake up” she shook you a little harder and with a loud scream you woke up.

“it’s okay baby it’s okay” rhea wanted to comfort you but you were so scared that you got up from the bed. you were almost like lost. it took you a few minutes to realise that you were in your bedroom and not in the middle of nowhere like in the dream you just had.

rhea looked scared, worried.

“rhea?” you whispered her name, still maintaining a certain distance between the two of you. you didn’t trust your mind in that moment.

“it’s me honey, it’s okay…” she said softly.

you took a second look to your bedroom. everything felt normal again. that was your and rhea’s bedroom, the pictures on the wall, your shoes all over the room - you remembered rhea telling you to put them in the closet before you went to sleep but you didn’t - your clothes folded on your drawer. it was normality.

“y/n can you look at me please?” she asked you softly and your eyes immediately went to her face. she saw the tears in your eyes, she saw how terrified you looked and all she wanted to do was to comfort you but she didn’t want to overstep your boundaries and scare you away “you’re okay baby…i’m here, i’m real” she told you.

slowly, you went to bed, sitting next to her, on your usual spot.

“are you real…” you asked her, your voice almost as a whisper.

rhea’s heart broke. she has never seen you so afraid.

“yes baby, i’m real, i’m here with you, in our bedroom…it’s just me and you” she said “just me and you…”

you said nothing but only nodded, feeling your tears on your face.

“can i hug you baby?” she asked you, making sure you wanted to be touched.

“yes please…”

the moment she put her arms over your body you broke down crying. she didn’t mind, she held you close and let you cry all of your tears. she whispered soft words, praises, wanting to make you feel better. she wanted to know what scared you so bad but she knew it wasn’t the time and the moment to ask, eventually she knew you would open up to her, maybe in the morning.

“it’s okay, you’re okay…” she kept saying “i love you so much baby, you just had a bad dream…nothing’s gonna hurt you” she kissed your cheek.

“it was just …” you couldn’t explain what you felt “i was so scared rhea, in my dream, and you weren’t there, no one was there…”

“it’s okay…it was just a bad dream, nothing of it was real, you’re awake now and you’re with me…” she got your hand over her heart “can you feel it? i’m real” she wiped away your tears.

“thank you…” you whispered.

“you don’t have to thank me…i’ll always protect you baby, always” she said while keeping you close to her.

that’s how you fell asleep again, you were laid over her body, her hands on your back while she gently massaged it, it was almost like a lullaby that made you feel safe and protected.

[faerishv]

HELLO!!! before i start i just gotta say i absolutely LOVE your writtings!!! they bought me smile into myface whenever i read them

okay back to the topic, i hope you see this and if you do can you make a reverse comfort? basically they had a nightmare at a sleepover and woke up in the middle of the night only to find you were awake for whatever reasons. They are absolutely flabbergasted, embarrassed about the fact that their s/o is seeing them crying over a dumb nightmare.

This promt with Teru, Kou, Akane, and Yashiro please! or if it was too much you can hust write Teru :)

have a nice day!!<3

JDHHDJQ IM HAPPY PPL LIKE MY WRITING SM I SWEAR I WILL IMPROVE MORE !!

" this is so embarrassing .. "

; yashiro :

being in contact with so many supernatural entities can lead to feeling a little paranoid. She asked you to have a sleepover mainly because of her nightmares , maybe if she slept with someone who brings her peace all the nightmares would stop , that's what she thought.

So there she is , sleeping on the futon next to your bed , though unfortunately the nightmares kept going ; she was moving and whimpering under the blankets , seeing all her loved ones under the grasp of the entities when suddendly she woke up sweating and trembling , she sitted trying to wipe her tears , when she turned her head to you and found you awake looking at her too

She was so embarassed she started smiling at you trying to pretend nothing happened " w- what are you doing awake at this hour [ name ] ..? " you looked at her with pity " i heard you moving around and i woke up " you said while getting closer to her " Nene did you have a nightmare ? " she was so embarassed about you seeing her cry , sure you've already seen her in despair but not her crying like that " me ? Crying ?? No way , why would you think that !! " obviously her attempt failed miserably " alright , i did have a nightmare ... but it was nothing , really ! "

You could see her being uncomfortable thinking about what she saw , so you didn't ask anything else ; you let her lay her head on your shoulder for comfort ; it ended up with both of you sleeping on eachother and Nene stopping having nightmares

; kou :

Kou invited you to have dinner at his house with his brother and sister , the weather got bad though so Teru suggested you to sleep with them , at first you suggested to sleep in the living room on the sofa but Kou asked you if you wanted to sleep in his room , and who are you to decline the invitation to sleep with your boyfriend. You are now sleeping on his bed and his sleeping on the floor ( he forced you to sleep on the bed )

Kou doesn't really happen to have bad dreams often , so it was really strange when he dreamed of you getting the same treatment that got Mitsuba from Tsukasa ; he was so scared of losing you too , the dream felt so real that he suddendly woke up with tears covering his eyes. He tried to search for you on the bed , just to find nobody on it ; he started freaking out when he saw you to the door walking in the room , but before you could do one step more he literally jumped on you , to your surprise ; he was touching your hair , arms , your back , he wanted to control if you were really you or if he was still dreaming " Kou ..? What happened to you ?? " you took his face in your hands just to find him quietly sobbing and with his eyes red from crying " what happened Kou , talk to me ! Did something happened while you were sleeping ? " he tried to recompose himself before talking " i - i had a bad dream .. you were there and .. and then he did something and s - sudde .. suddendly you were a supernatural .. i thought i would've lose you forever .. " you hugged him closely to you for about 5 minutes , before he calmed himself down.

you took his hand and guided him to the bed , you laid your head on his chest , his heartbeat was a lot calmer than before. You then woke up in the morning still in the same position you two were in

; teru :

You two dated long time ago , so you already knew his past , the fact that he's always been a good exorcist and he couldn't live his childhood like he wanted to. That's something it always upsetted him : being the strongest to protect the others while the live their happy lifes , not that he isn't happy tho ; he has 2 adorable siblings and a perfect s / o by his side

By now it was normal for you to sleep at the Minamotos house , its like a second family to you. It was night , everyone was sleeping , some dreaming something beautiful , others dreaming things not so amazing. It's rare for Teru to have any nightmares at all , or getting any sleep at night overall ; he has many duties to attend to and many thoughts in his head that sometimes even he can't control

Terrible scenarios were heading into his mind : people assaulted by supernaturals and he couldn't do anything about it , his siblings in danger , than you leaving him because he wasn't enough. Every little fear he has showing up in his dreams until he couldn't take it anymore. He woke sweating , he touched his cheeks that were stained with his tears , he felt so dumb for crying over a stupid nightmare

" Teru ? Is everything alright ?? " he looked up at you confused and shocked : he didn't noticed you weren't in bed with him and honestly he was embarassed you had to see him like that , he never showed his true colors to anyone and he didn't mean to show them to you like that " ah , nothing dear , i just noticed you weren't here and i woke up " of course he lied , he didn't want you to worry about him for such a meaningless dream " mhm .. then why are your eyes red ? Did you cry Teru ? You know you can tell me everything right .. " he patted the empty spot on the bed , you laid down and he guided your head to his chest , his arms on your back

" [ name ] .. i love you , you know that ? " you looked up at him surprised , it wasn't flirty or anything like that , it was sincere and pure " of course i do , and i love you too Teru " he smiled while you laid down to sleep. Maybe , just maybe , someday he'll show you his true self and his fears

; akane :

he really really loves when you ask to do a sleepover to his house , he couldn't be more happier to spend the entire day with you ; and he also loves when the night arrives and its time to go to bed , so that he can cuddle you to sleep all he wants

though tonight plans didn't go as planned , he didn't know why but this nightmares continued to torment him over and over again ; everytime he thought it was over it would start again : it was you and him being together as always , when suddendly something bad was about to happen to you but he couldn't stop the time ; he had to watch without the force to do anything , he felt useless , comparing to everyone , Teru or even the Honourable Number 7 , they are definitely better than him to fight

he woke up screaming to the time to stop , he felt that you weren't in bed with him and freaked out so bad. He calmed himself hearing your steps coming to the bedroom " is everything okay Akane !? " he started tearing up again and hugged you tightly " Akane ?? " " i really thought it was all real .. i couldn't stop the time and y - you ... you ... " you embraced him and stopped him before he could say anything else " shh ... it's okay my love , it was just a bad dream , im still here with you , and i'll always be " hearing you saying that calmed him down a lot " im sorry you had to see me like this , it was just a dumb nightmare and i couldn't help myself , its so embarrassing .. " he was so flustered it was so cute.

You two returned to bed , and if you thought he would've let you go in his sleep , you can be sure he wont now

i honestly got carried away with Teru and Akane but i love them so much , anyways this was really fun to write !!

[marshmallowprotection]

Omg "Touch me. Feel my skin. I'm real, see?" promt for cowboy Saeran? :(♡

I miss him dearly

It wasn’t all that often you were graced with your outlaw’s presence. He had work to do that couldn’t stop for nothing. You were just as busy as he was, but you had the illusion of taking a break when he didn’t have that luxury. You could sit down on a bar chair and wax poetic to a crook without a second thought to get him to say what you needed to hear, but he couldn’t slow down and catch his breath to save his life.

You understood just how important it was for him to get his work done. His ass was on the line. He had to do what he had to do. The life of a criminal wasn't an easy one, but it was the life he had to live. Even if you didn't know the devil in the details, you knew he decided to walk down this path for a reason.

That reason mattered to you, and you trusted him to tell you when he was ready to talk about it, but until that day? You were okay to wait in the wings. It wasn't as if the moments in between weren't worth it. A day with your boss was the same as a day of fresh air, and that was all the more reason to enjoy the feeling of being cozied up in bed with an outlaw you called your own.

You could tell that Unknown hadn't slept in days when he showed up at your front door, and despite the wary look in his eyes, he decided to come inside anyway. It wasn't like Zen was around to kick him out. Your best friend was out of town for the week because he had some business to take care of in another city. You preferred to have visitors anyway, especially visitors who made you feel safe.

After you helped him wash up and clean his face, he huddled down in bed with you for God knows how long before you dozed off after him. He needed the rest and he needed the reminder that you trusted him enough to be vulnerable around him.

He didn't have to stay armed to feel safe, and you didn't have to hold onto a knife to feel comfortable around him.

Unknown was warm.

His breath was soft against your throat as you stirred out of sleep and found yourself staring at the dark walls of your cabin. You didn't have the energy to untangle yourself from him to find a candle, but it was dark enough outside to let you know he'd been there longer than just a little afternoon nap. You weren't upset about it, but you knew that it might upset him a little to have put you at risk of someone seeing his horse nearby.

You sighed, absentmindedly running your digits through his messy curls.

However, your moment of peace was destroyed in a heartbeat as Unknown's gentle breaths turned ragged. His peaceful slumber all but burned to terror as his body tensed and his lungs fought to stay in control of his fears. You knew he was having a nightmare, but also knew better than to wake someone from their nightmare knowing it could lead them to be more frightened than anything else.

You had to wait, holding your breath as his only grew worse, trying to coax him to a gentle valley of flowers far, far away from whatever set him off in the first place. It took a moment for you to find his hand in the sheets, but once you did, you cupped it against your cheek. Even if he wasn't awake, you knew he would respond to touch. He... always did.

For a man who let people believe he hated anything closer to him than twenty miles away, he was starved for a single touch.

You breathed a gentle instruction for his sake. He needed to know his dreams weren't doomed. He could save them. "Touch me. Feel my skin. I'm real, see?"

Unknown felt small in your embrace as he fought with his demons to maintain control of his dreams. He wasn't the tall outlaw who had to growl to survive when he was with you... he was a boy who never had a choice in what he had to do to survive. But, you refused to let go of his hand. You wanted him to know you could protect him, too, only if he would allow it.

It took a few minutes, but his breath began to even out again, and he sighed in response to your promise to protect him. You let go of his hand, but he kept it there against your cheek as if the only lifeline he had to stay at peace, making it much easier for you to cradle his head against your heart.

His heart... forevermore.

[disfrutalakia]

@qsmp-secretvalentine

In the Cold Night

(Fitpac, 850 words, fluff, sharing a bed, nightmares, emotional comfort)

For the amazing @ludaroace I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Cold hands on his skin, blood dripping down his kness and then, the sharp pain of a limb being ripped off his body, it was too much, too much…

Pac woke up, the bed in which he fell asleep soaked with sweat and he could feel his nightshirt clinging to his skin, it was uncomfortable but not worse than the feeling that nightmare left at the pit of his stomach.

“Pac?” A sleepy voice at his side made itself present, shit he had woken up Fit with his nightmare.

He looked at Fit, who barely had his eyes open still to plagued with sleep, and smiled “It’s okay Fit, go back to sleep.”

But of course his voice was shaky when saying that, because he did not feel okay at all, Pac still felt jumpy and ready to run away at any second, he almost did when hearing Fit’s deep voice.

“No, it’s not, I hear you stirring in bed Pac, you only do that when you have nightmares”

Fit knew him too well, even better than Pac knew himself sometimes and it should be scary, but it wasn’t… It was pretty comforting actually to have someone apart from Mike know him so well.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to” Fit was now truly awake, sitting in bed and watching Pac with gentle eyes like he was an injured animal who would run away at the first sight of movement, and maybe he was right.

“No I…” It was hard, admitting that he wanted to talk about things, that he wanted to share about his fucked up past, and usually he would just laugh and pretend everything was fine but, he couldn’t do that, not when Fit looked at him with the most gentle eyes he ever saw “I want to talk about it, it’s just…”

“Hard?” Once again Fit said his words in the most gentle way possible, not touching Pac since he wasn’t sure if he would be comfortable with that but he made sure that his voice was gentle, that his eyes had nothing but love and worry when looking at the panicked face in front of him.

Pac just nodded in silence, clearly still trying to find his words, it was hard, especially on a second language.

“You know about… me and Mike in prison right?” Pac didn’t talk about it a lot nowadays, there was no reason to bring it up usually but he remembered telling Fit about it.

“I know what you told me, that you two were sent there because of a robbery and then escaped.” Fit tried t remain calm, he knew a little bit more than that, he knew about a friend that Pac lost in prison, he knew Cellbit had been there too.

“This, is the most basic version of events… A lot happened before we escaped. I lost… a really good friend…” Pac tried hard to not let tears fill his eyes at the painful memories of that day, where he saw Jv’s body sliced open, the blood on Cell’s hands.

Fit reached out his hand, not touching Pac in case that was not what the man wanted, but he left his hand there, open in case Pac wanted to hold it while telling a difficult story.

Pac saw the hand, and it felt good, it felt good to have someone there, to not have to hide his feelings the way he grew up doing.

“I… When I was in prison, Cell was there too… but he was… different.” Pac began talking, his hand over Fit’s, drawing strength from it, he was warm to the touch so different from the cold hands in his dream “He was… not a nice person, he was the one to kill my friend and he was the one to… to take my leg from me.”

“He broke your leg?” Fit was surprised, not by Cellbit’s actions really he always knew the guy was capable of something like that, he was surprised by the fact that somehow Pac had forgiven the guy.

“Not… exactly.” Pac retracted his hand, curling up on himself “I don’t want to talk anymore, I’m sorry.”

“Pac…It’s okay, you don’t have to.” Fit knew how hard things like that were, and right know he couldn’t help but think about giving Cellbit a piece of his mind, the guy had changed but, he couldn’t help but see how afraid Pac still was of him, how haunted he was by the ghosts of the past.

“Fit, can you… can you hug me?” Pac craved comfort, he needed something to ground him, to make him remember what was real, someone to not let himself escape to the past once again.

Fit smiled, and carefully wrapped his strong arms around Pac’s frame, let himself smell the faint grass smell that his boyfriend had.

Pac smiled as his eyes closed, he knew that having Fit there wouldn’t exactly stop the nightmares, but it was nice knowing that regardless of the nightmare, someone was going to be there for him.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

The Beginning Of The End Series

Summary: You were once a “honeybee”, now you’re simply a “bunny”. Can an alliance and friendship still last after one’s former lover became the current lover of another?

Pairings: ELP x Reader x Jay White

Warnings: +18

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @baysexuality , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl , @pleasantpastels

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

When I found myself alone in the hotel room that afternoon it all hit me like a brick wall. I had barely gotten to Japan and I already felt exhausted, my body ached, my heart was heavy but my mind was racing. After Riley showed me the text he received after I slept last night, I had no doubt that Jay had also gotten one.

I thought of every possibility I could find but still none of them made sense. Riley made a comment in the morning about how he thinks that Jay is behind all of this but in my heart I knew better than that.

Still I found myself here, in front of his hotel room, knocking on his door so I could talk to him about the texts and do the one thing I promised myself I would never do: willingly come after Jay.

Jay had finished pulling his sweatpants up his hips when someone knocked on his door. Frowning at the unsolicited visit at this time of the afternoon, Jay finished squeezing the excess water from his hair with a towel and tossed the damp fabric on top of his bed.

Choosing to look for a clean t-shirt later, he opened the door dressed just in his sweatpants, with his damp hair sticking to his chest.

“Yeah?” He asked before opening the door widely. His voice was completely lost, words were unable to form on his tongue, heart beating fast with both surprise and happiness, his mind nothing more than a white canvas.

“Can I talk to you for a minute, please?”

Jay’s body reacted as if on autopilot, he nodded in confirmation and stepped aside so you could come into his room. It all felt like a dream, a dream painted in watercolors, with soft lines but vibrant colors, so soothing and breathtaking.

“Are you really here? I’m not dreaming, am I?” His hand cupped your cheek, calloused thumb caressing your soft skin, gray eyes sparkling with fulfillment and disbelief.

“Jay, please” Your hands closed around his wrist, slowly pulling his burning touch away from your face.

It took Jay a few seconds to regain his composure but once he felt somewhat in control of his body again he smiled sadly “I’m sorry, I don’t know what took over me” Jay’s eyes focused on your face, and as he felt himself starting to drown in your eyes again he spoke “Anyway, would you like to sit down?” He pointed towards the messy bed before taking a spot on top of the fumbled sheets but you only shook your head in return “No, thank you”

“How can I help you?”

Your eyes momentarily darted to the floor, as a way to ground yourself to whatever answer he might give you. “Jay” You refocused your gaze on his gray eyes. Eyes that were never able to lie to you, even when his mouth did. “I’m gonna ask you something, but I need you to be dead honest with me”.

The urgency in your voice had Jay’s heart tightening with worry, “Honeybee, you’re scaring me”

“Promise me, Jay”

“I promise” He quickly replied “What happened?”

“Did you send me or Riley any kind of text messages from an unknown number?”

“No. Why would I sen-” The words died on Jay’s lips as the memories from last night hit him, “I got a text last night from an unknown number too. They asked what would I do to get you back, and at first I thought it was a joke because what kind of weirdo would send someone a message at 3 am-”

“You were awake at 3 am?”

“Yeah, I had a nightmare and woke up a little after 3:30, why?”

This was one of the things that always frightened you when you were together, the synchrony. Unexplainable synchronized occurrences: dreams, nightmares, pains, thoughts, sicknesses, feelings…it was all tied together by a silver string that somehow managed to connect you and Jay even when you were thousands of miles away from each other. Synchrony that apparently had never died, even though your relationship did.

It only took a glance at his direction for Jay to understand what had happened.

“You had a nightmare and woke up at the same time too” He said in a whisper “What was yours about?”

“You, me and Riley. At a dirt crossroad and…blood” You sighed heavily “A lot of blood. Yours?”

“Charlie, you and I. Then eventually Lisa” Jay felt his mouth starting to taste bitter after speaking the last name. “Charlie was…he was our son…yours and mine. We lived in our old apartment and we were lying on the couch, you were breastfeeding him and had your back against my chest, I was twirling your hair with my fingers and we were talking about taking Charlie to the park when someone knocked on the door. It was Lisa, she took him away from us, and started screaming at the top of her lungs that he was her child not ours. Just hers” Jay felt the same shiver running down his spine again “And, ummm…you were-”

The loud knocking had both yours and Jay’s heart beating frantically with fright.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were expecting someone” You quickly apologized

Jay’s eyebrows frowned, as he bolted from the bed “But I’m not” He walked the small distance between the bed and door.

His hand closed around the doorknob and once his eyes spotted the person standing in the hallway his frown got deeper as he spat “You? What the fuck are you doing here?!”

There was something bothering Riley ever since you told him you were going to ask Jay about the text messages. A lingering, burning feeling had settled in his chest and gave no indications of leaving anytime soon. Similar to an irritated patch of skin that one continues to incessantly scratch, causing the burning sensation to grow and spread throughout the uncontaminated flesh, this feeling of anger and worthlessness was taking over Riley’s rational side to a point where he stopped his workout just so he could go back to your room.

*If she wanted to stay with him, she would never have left him in the first place! And if she wanted to cheat on me with him, she wouldn’t have been honest with me and said she would go there and talk to him. Just think about it, if she had anything to hide she wouldn’t be so upfront and honest about her actions* Riley thought to himself as he pressed the button to the 7th floor.

“She loves me, she’s with me, she loves me” He repeated to himself like a mantra, until the elevator doors opened and the screaming coming from Jay’s room made Riley whisper “Bunny”, and so, he ran towards the direction of the deafening screams.

“What the fuck are you doing in my man’s room, bitch?” Lisa screamed. She took quick steps towards you before Jay closed his grip around her arm, roughly pulling her back. “Respect her!” Jay warned, he stepped in front of Lisa, blocking her view of you as you stood behind him. “Where’s my son?”

“With Keiko. I told her I was coming so she came and picked him up so I could stay with you alone for a bit” Lisa purred, eyelashes batting at Jay as her hands caressed his bare chest .

Jay pushed her hands away from his body with a grunt “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I missed you!”

“I didn’t say you could come here, Lisa!”

“I didn’t know I needed your permission!” She huffed loudly, closing her arms in front of her chest as she asked “Why are you putting on a show, Jay? Why do you want to pretend that our relationship sucks? Is it because of her?”

“Pretend it sucks?” Jay laughed, sarcasm dripping from every word “It does suck, Lisa. As a matter of fact our relationship is a fucking disgrace! A never-ending torture!”

“Jay, please” You pleaded, trying to put some sense into his mind.

You, more than anyone, knew how harsh Jay’s words could be. They’re cold and sharp like a dagger that sinks deeper into your heart after every sentence. When Jay wants, he manages to be the most hurtful, cold and mean person anyone could ever know.

“Honeybee, trust me when I say she deserves every word” Jay’s voice was cold and distant. He kept his deadly gaze fixed on Lisa, so you tried once again.

“She’s the mother of your child, Jay. Choose your words wisely, please”

“Stay out of it, bitch!” Lisa spat at you “What makes you think you can get in between Jay and I? I don’t need your intervention nor your fucking help!” She took a step to the right so she could look at you “If you think that I’ll let you take him away from me, you don’t know me at all. You’ll never have him back!”

“I don’t want him back, Lisa”

“No? What the fuck are you doing here then? You're the one to blame, you know? For everything! I don’t get it, I truly don’t get it, what do you have that’s so charming and attractive that every fucking man seems to be obsessed with you? You have Riley now, don’t you? You love him, no? So why don’t you let him obsess over you and stop running after my fiancé?!

“I don’t run after Jay, Lisa. But it would be pointless to explain anything to you because you’re so focused on your own obsession and fantasy that you refuse to see anything remotely different from your own perceptions. As for Riley, please refrain yourself from bringing him into your mess. Our relationship will never be like yours nor will he ever treat me the way Jay treats you and you know why? Because I would never allow a man to treat me so poorly. But I guess people are right when they say that others treat you the way you treat yourself, so I don’t expect any less coming from you” You closed the distance between you and her until you stopped mere inches away from her face.

“You want Jay? Keep him, he’s all yours. But I’ll tell you this only once: keep my relationship and Riley’s name out of your mouth. I do love Riley, although my feelings don't concern you, but don’t you ever make the mistake of blaming me or Riley as the cause for your unhappiness. If you don’t have what it takes to maintain a somewhat normal relationship with someone who deeply despises you, you and Jay are the only ones to blame” You calmly replied before your gaze traveled to the pair of blue eyes standing by the door.

The urgency to defend you gradually turned into admiration and finally an unexplainable lust. Riley had listened to the whole argument and decided to intervene right after Lisa began to spit bitter words at you. But when Riley listened to the “I don’t want him back, Lisa” coming out of your mouth when the other woman accused you of wanting Jay back, Riley instantly froze in place.

Those words poured over him like a bucket of ice water, catching him by surprise before they woke him up to the reality of the one thing he wanted to hear the most: that you don’t want Jay anymore. Your follow up response to Lisa and the way you defended Riley and your relationship made Riley’s cock grow painfully hard.

He once heard his best friend talking about the emotional boners he would get with his wife, like the need to protect her when she felt sad or even when she cried, or the instant hard on he would get when she did something incredibly courageous or protective of him or someone she loved and the action flooded his heart with admiration.

“Those are the ‘love boners’, man. The real ones. When you get one of those with a chick, that’s when you know she’s the woman of your life”,was what his best friend had said to him once on a winter night at their favorite bar in Ontario. At the time, Riley thought this was complete bullshit, I mean how the fuck can you get a boner not from being turned on but from your feelings alone?

However, he understood how now. Because of you he understands how a man can have a true ‘love boner’.

When your eyes met him in that silently deep stare that only you possess, the one that can see directly into his soul, Riley was absolutely certain that the small velvet box he had hidden inside of his bag was the best spent money of his life.