#this chapter's smut is tame but i really enjoyed writing it

[powerfulscribbles]

Ritus Primæ Noctis (1/2)

[An Elden Ring AU where Ansbach has freed Mohg from Miquella's charm]

Taglist: @littledeathh

->Read the chapter on ao3 (18+ registered users)<-

Chapter summary: Lord Mohg summons the Tarnished Valyssa to discuss a ritual that must take place during her wedding night with Varré.

CW: Dubcon references, mentions of cuckholding, pregnancy discussions, NSFW 18+ willing romantic intimacy.

Words: 4,8k~

A knock at the door woke Valyssa from her sleep, earlier than most of her mornings. She covered her yawn with a hand before stretching out her arms, and quickly getting off the bed.

Who could it be? We’re not expecting anyone.

Dressed up with simple clothes in loin and modest leather shoes, she hurried to the door, as quietly as she could as not to wake up Varré in their bedroom.

“Coming” she said, not too loudly.

She unlocked the door and when she opened it, only slightly, she leaned on the side to find Ansbach waiting for her in his usual black garb.

“Oh, good morning Sir Ansbach. Are you looking for Varré?”

“Good morrow, Righteous Valyssa. In fact, Lord Mohg has personally requested an audience with you in his royal housing, in a few minutes.”

… That’s unusual.

Why the royal abode, too? The throne room is in the Mausoleum, after all.

“Oh, sure. Should Varré come too?”

“No, it seems only your presence was deemed necessary.”

Ah. What’s the catch?

“Alright. Just give me a moment to change into more proper clothing. I’ll be back soon, you can come inside in the meantime” she said, inviting him in the hall while she quickly ran back to the bedroom.

“Thank you kindly” the Pureblood knight said, taking a few steps inside and remaining in wait by the entrance door, with his arms behind his back.

Back in the bedroom, Valyssa scouted around, looking for something more formal to wear.

Wearing all my armor would take too much time, and I wouldn’t want to disturb Varré for his help. He’s already been getting too little sleep and rest lately.

Inside the wardrobe she found her Sanguine Noble robe, a gift from the surgeon after he anointed her himself.

This should go well.

She quickly wore it over her loin clothes, and approached Varré who was still in bed. He was resting so peacefully, unlike most of the time, and she leaned in to peck his forehead.

She smiled down at her future spouse. I’ll be right back. Rest as much as you can in the meantime.

She swiftly scribbled down a note and left it by her side of the bed, in case he awoke before her return.

So the Tarnished shut the door behind her, and walked back to the hall where Ansbach was waiting.

“I’m ready, we can go now” she announced.

“Yes, let us be on our way” the elderly knight pronounced himself exiting the apartment first, followed by the rust-haired woman.

The way to Mohg’s residence was quite silent. Ansbach was a colloquial fellow, but she didn’t particularly feel in the mood to initiate a conversation with him. But she tried to anyway. She hated the uncomfortable quietness.

“How has our Lord been feeling, lately? After the… latest event?”

“He’s been recovering fairly well. With Miquella’s powerful charm broken and his consequent retreat to the Shadow Lands, our Master rests easier now. And with his plans foiled, I doubt the Empyrean will bother the Dynasty again in the future” the man explained.

“I hope not. You must have been formidable with your blade, when you freed him from the enchantment.”

Ansbach sighed softly. “It was not an easy choice to make from my part, but it was a necessity. In truth, I only did what his Excellency would have wanted. I highly doubt He fell under the Unalloyed’s power of His own volition.”

That’s what I think, too.

“What I’m sure of though, is that someone among our peers was not as glad that I had to attack the Divinity in order to free Lord Mohg. But it should be all settled now, shouldn’t it?”

Yeah… I remember Varré not being too thrilled about it.

“It should. Honestly, you only did what you had to do. There was not much else you could have done, in that situation” Valyssa reassured him.

“… No. I suppose not” the Pureblood knight concluded.

She tried not to look too puzzled when they passed the hall to the empty throne room, and kept following the same path.

The cocoon was here before…

… Does the Dynasty even have a future anymore… without Miquella?

“If I may ask, does our Luminary not... sit the throne, today?”

“I’m afraid not, for the moment. Nonetheless, it is early in the morning. Perhaps he will at a later hour.”

“I see” she simply replied.

Soon they arrived before two massive iron doors, decorated in multiple engravings including a couple of big tridents, one on each door. They were guarded by two Sanguine Nobles, who began to push the doors open as they acknowledged their presence.

“You may enter, Valyssa. Master Mohg has requested me to remain outside the room, for the duration of the audience.”

Odd. “Oh alright. See you then, Ansbach.”

The elderly knight gave her only a slight nod, before she walked in and the doors slowly closed behind her, sealing the exit.

Mohg was waiting for her, sitting on a throne of stone, adorned with crimson drapes and rubies. A more somber seat than the one present in the Mausoleum.

She looked before her, and immediately bowed hurriedly. Her gaze went to the red marble plates of the pavement, keeping it low as she nervously waited for a command from her Lord.

“Come forth, Valyssa. No need to be afraid.”

She slowly stood correctly, trying to hide her nervousness as she approached the demigod. He had prepared a chair for her before him, with a pitcher and two goblets placed on a wooden piece of furniture not too far from the throne. One of the chalices was smaller than the other.

“Good morning Lord Mohg” she greeted him, taking a seat. Her hands remained crossed on her thighs, with her fingers intertwined with one another as she looked up to her Lord.

“Yes, good morning. You might be wondering why you’ve been summoned, quite early in the day as well. Allow me to illuminate you.”

She gulped and gave him a quick nod.

“First of all, I’m pleased to know that you and Varré are now engaged. My congratulations.”

“Thank you… my Lord.”

“However. As instructed by the Formless Mother, a matrimony in the Mohgwyn Dynasty has to be made true by a specific ritual of blood, and love. As the Lord of Blood, I will have to bed one of the two newlyweds on their first night.”

Her eyes widened so suddenly. She was completely in disbelief. “I’m… I’m sorry? … My Lord?”

She immediately corrected herself. “Forgive me, my Lord… I had no idea of… such a ritual.”

“Mh. Your surprise is excusable. Perhaps even Varré is oblivious to this.”

He might be…? This never came up in our discussions and plans.

“In any case, I wanted to discuss who would be the chosen one for the night. The other spouse would simply have to remain there, and watch the act take place.”

Oh. That’s a… very specific procedure. Weird that he didn’t call Varré as well for this.

“Lord Mohg, if I may point this out, why wasn’t Varré summoned too? As a couple, we could’ve talked things out in a more… efficient way.”

He grunted. “I’m fully aware of his… zeal and dedication as a servant. Had I summoned him too, he would have very likely influenced your choices by imposing on you something you wouldn’t have wanted.”

Mh. Perhaps.

“And while on your own, you’re more free to make your own decisions” he explained, leaning on the side with his arm to grab the pitcher and pour some wine in the smaller goblet, that he then offered to her. Valyssa accepted it, waiting for a sense of approval in the demigod’s gaze before taking a sip.  

“So. Who will it be, then? Him… Or you?”

Well. Knowing Varré, he wouldn’t turn it down for the world. But… I don’t think I’d be able to watch him get… screwed like that.

She shook her head to snap herself out of the thought, nauseated. Yeah, no way. Ritual and all, just imagining it makes me sick.

But to do it myself… oh Lord.

There’s no other way though, is there?

“I’ll… I’ll do it.”

The demigod raised an eyebrow, almost surprised. “Really? Are you certain of this choice of yours?”

No. But I really wouldn’t manage to remain sat and still as the… observer.

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Well then. It is decided.”

She tried not to let out a sigh through her nose.

“It is in your interest to be informed then that this affair is strictly formal, with no personal matters involved” Lord Mohg proclaimed.

“And a blood incantation will prevent all sorts of… accidental complications, once the act has officially come to an end” he continued, with a soft grin. “I don’t expect you to carry to terms something that is not in your plans.”

The Tarnished felt her face getting warmer and warmer all of a sudden, and looked down in embarrassment.

“I… I know. Thank you for being so apprehensive, Lord Mohg”. She sighed, exasperated, only to turn her gaze towards the demigod again. “An eventual situation should always be considered, after all. And Varré, he would’ve had… something to say about it, at least. Or tried to convince me and change my mind, if the occasion had been at hand.”

A child from his Lord… would most likely be a dream come true, for him.

The Omen’s face, usually unperturbed, revealed a slight frown. He drank from his own golden goblet, before placing it down onto the small table with a sigh. He crossed his arms.

“We both know that Varré’s loyalty has never been in question. We’ve already been through this. But his judgement is more often than not clouded by what he believes to be the best for the Dynasty. Thus, he has the habit of ignoring everything around him if it doesn’t serve that specific purpose” he said.

“A child unwanted by their mother is a child unwanted by all. Varré’s concern should regard the conceiving of his own offspring, not seeking a bairn purely for his own desires” the Omen continued.

“He would love that babe as if he had fathered them, but in turn you would be subject to a violation of your being, and a reminder of it will be present for the rest of your life.”

Mohg’s hand brought up the chalice and he took another slow sip, placing the chalice back down once he was satisfied.

“Furthermore. You wouldn’t love a child out of your own convictions and lies developed over time. You never do. So you don’t have to worry about Varré. He may sound more insistent in your conversations, but he’ll ultimately do as he’s told.”

I wonder what he would’ve said or done if you had given him your approval…

“Nonetheless” he concluded, “I expect this event to remain a secret to the rest of the Dynasty. I can already see how someone is going to badmouth you two for adhering to such a celebration, despite being a precept of the Dynasty. Not everyone is wise enough to acknowledge the significance behind it. And I can see how the act itself may raise some questions. But that really matters none. It is all according to the Formless Mother’s will. Don’t you agree?”

The Tarnished nodded. “Yes, Lord Mohg. I think it would be best if we just kept it to ourselves.”

“Good. Then we’re finished here. Report everything to Varré, without sparing any detail. And until next time Valyssa. You’re dismissed” he pronounced, raising from his massive chair.

“Of course, My Lord. Thank you for dedicating some of your precious time to this discussion” she said, bowing one last time before taking a few steps backwards and heading to the door. It opened from the outside, and she passed through as soon as she could.

I can’t… believe I had to agree to this. But talking about it alone with Mohg was probably the best way to handle it. Varré would’ve just praised him and smiled, and anything would have been fine to him.

The doors closed behind her again, and she was on the move again. But she didn’t have to take more than a few steps, once Valyssa spotted Varré himself waiting outside, seemingly for her.

His mask might have hid his face, but his focused eyes didn’t look capable of concealing his excitement very well. He kept playing with the engagement ring around his finger, turning and examining it as if he was seeing it for the first time, humming contentedly.

As the doors were sealed shut, he instantly looked up and met her gaze. To which Valyssa’s grim expression turned into something softer, his presence alleviating in part what was going on in her head.

“Oh, my dear lambkin~” he exclaimed, approaching with haste to embrace her, leaving her slightly taken aback before she reciprocated the hug. He briefly lifted his mask over his face to kiss her on both cheeks, and resumed like nothing ever happened.

“I didn’t expect to find you here, love” she said, her index slowly passing over the fake lips of the mask in a playful way. “I thought you were going to rest some more.”

“Me? Oh, no” he laughed softly, “I must have awoken not too long after you left, and I hurried myself here as soon as I read your note. I wouldn’t have missed any second of your audience for the world, if only I could have participated.”

“Y-yeah. Turns out he wanted to see me and only me. He didn’t even let Ansbach in.”

And now I can see why… she thought, the tips of her ears turning red in embarrassment. Varré was quick to pick up on that.

“So, how did it go? What did the Luminary tell you?” he whispered in her ear, overwhelmed by joy.

“Uh. Fairly well, I think” the Tarnished replied. “Let’s… Let’s go back home first. It’s a… pretty private topic.”

“Oh, is that so? As you wish, my lambkin. You seem full of surprises, today~” he chirped, eagerly taking her hand in his as they walked home.

~°~

Varré pulled down his mask, placing it on the bedside table before he sat down onto the edge of the bed, with Valyssa following along. His gloved fingers slithered to hold her hands into his.

“So… What matters did you discuss with Lord Mohg that required such privacy, hm?” he asked quite curious, tilting his head on the side.

She gulped. The feeling her face burning in embarrassment was too much, and she almost refused to looked at her fiancé.

“Lord Mohg proposed… that he would bed one of us during our wedding night, as a way to seal the matrimony in blood.”

Varré’s expression mutated into one of disbelief and he blinked twice, as if he hadn’t heard what she had said correctly.

“Right? I’m a bit… worried about this” she said, turning away from him while she raised her hands in a frustrated way, walking back and forth in the room.

However, she missed how Varré’s cheeks turned pink little by little, until they were very rosy.

“I… I volunteered, but I should’ve probably consulted with you before I did, so I’m very sorry about that-“

“Oh, it is the utmost privilege the Luminary could offer! His highest form of blessing!” he interrupted her. “You did well to accept, a refusal would have been seen as a grave offense, truthfully!” Varré exclaimed, giggling like an excited girl.

“Uh?” she let out in disbelief. Only then she noticed his blush.

“Besides…” the surgeon continued, “I am more than pleased to allow him to spend our first night with you~ I’m confident in saying you won’t disappoint him” he continued, with a smile from ear to ear.

“Are you… are you sure? Isn’t it… humiliating, for you? More than it is for me?” Valyssa asked him, her gaze never leaving his.

“Well, if you think about it…” he spoke, raising from his spot on the bed to wrap his arms around her waist to hug her from behind. “We’ve spent countless nights together, already. Dedicating your body to the Luminary, even for a single night, would prove to be an unique and unrepeatable occasion for you~” he said, softly pressing his lips against her nape.

His nose brushed against her skin affectionately, while his gloved hands roamed as he stroke her chest and belly in an endearing way, before moving in front of her to look her in the eyes again.

“And even if tattlers and rumormongers would spread the news, we wouldn’t want to pay them any mind. Jealousy is a despicable habit to pursue, and we will pay neither ears nor mind to it. Right, my lambkin?” he asked, tilting his head to the side again, waiting for a response from her.

Honestly, it's not like we could have turned it down, regardless of what we wanted…, the Tarnished thought.

“Y-yeah. We… we don’t need to hear and care about what others have to say regarding us.”

The war surgeon’s smile widened even more, as he looked at her adoringly. He leaned in forward, their lips colliding in a soft kiss.

“Wonderful, my lambkin. I’m so very proud of you~” he whispered pulling away for a brief moment, before his mouth was on hers again. This time his tongue parted her lips to deepen the embrace with a soft moan.

She smiled weakly while she pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his back while their tongues danced within.

A huff came from both of them as the kiss kept going, before his lips pulled away from hers and started trailing a path of delicate pecks headed to a sensitive spot on her neck. The hairs on his chin lightly brushed against her skin, giving her a sense of familiarity.

“We’re going to skip breakfast at this rate- mh~” she whispered, getting cut off by her own whimper.

“Why, I have my treat right over here~” the surgeon spoke softly in her ear, before diving back on licking her neck. She let out a soft groan, kissing his temple while he took his time working on her.

“You’re silly, haha” she continued and closed her eyes with a hum, enjoying his special attention. The arousal was quickly growing in her lower belly, and she turned around to close the door away from prying eyes and ears, carefully doing so it wouldn’t interrupt Varré’s intense kissing session.

The clothes underneath her robe were off before they could blink, and his lips moved away to let her remove the Sanguine Noble outfit as well. She remained in her underwear, undoing the cloth covering her breasts as she laid onto her back on the bed. Her fiancé couldn’t help but adore her with his pale golden eyes, the gaze never leaving her even as he removed his leather gloves and his surgeon garb.

His lips then moved from her neck to her chest, and he began to fondle her breasts. His stubble tickled her areolas, and she appreciated greatly how he took a nipple in his mouth, after kissing it so adoringly. He sucked on it with eagerness, a hand cupping the other breast and massaging it gently in circles. Satisfied to hear her moans, he then switched to the twin nipple so he could do the same, while Valyssa stroked his hair. Her fingers ran through his brown, messy tufts, reaching his ponytail as well, and her cries of joy reverberated through the air.

Once Varré deemed it was enough, he hastily descended onto her body, creating a slow trail of pecks over her belly and abdomen. She grinned at his intentions, swiftly removing her loincloth and spreading her legs for him, inviting the surgeon to please her in a more intimate way.

“You’re more enthusiastic than usual today, dear~” he pointed out, crawling onto the sheets and helping her place her thighs onto his shoulders. Her crotch was right before his lips, like a full meal prepared just for him.

“And you’re not?” she spoke back with a giggle, amused at his excitement.

“Why wouldn’t I be? If you can’t tell yourself I am in a particularly good mood~ and it can only get better from here~”

“Mh, I bet~” the Tarnished said, gasping  as his tongue came into contact with her clitoris and inner lips. He lapped happily at them, even nibbling in the most sensitive areas. The stimulation was intense, and she was so tempted to buck her hips against his face, moaning as her climax approached faster and faster. She gripped the bedsheets behind her head with her full fists, her hips instinctively rising so he could do an even better job.

The Tarnished could feel his smirk against her flesh, as he suddenly inserted his tongue into her quivering hole, making her hurl. Her toes curled, he immediately set an unforgiving pace while his hands stroked the inner side of her thighs.

She cried his name as she came, whining as she was like putty in his hands. Her huffing was followed by chuckling from the white mask, who carefully placed her legs and hips back on the bed so he could undress completely. His excited dick sprung free once he was nude, in all his glory, and he climbed onto the bed to join her.

“Don’t you want some special attention too, love?” she asked, her face all flushed and flustered. She rolled onto her stomach and approached her partner with hungry eyes.

“Oh… I thought you deserved it all yourself today, my lambkin~ but I would never reject any affection from you” he said sweetly, spreading his legs and giving his cock a few strokes. It was rock hard, throbbing for attention and want.

“Of course not, you should be loved as much as you do me” she whispered, taking the lead with her fingers and holding him in her grasp. Her touch was slow and constant, as her fingers worked diligently around his length.

She then lowered her head and took him in her mouth. Varré groaned in pleasure, looking down at her fondly. His fingers found their way through her hair, caressing her long, wavy locks before she started moving up and down. She sucked with fervor, her head bobbing up and down. Her red eyes were focused on his, and he looked on the verge of coming undone at that very moment.

But he stopped her soon after. “I’d… I’d like to finish inside, d-dear… Would that be fine with y-you?”

She let go of his shaft, nodding breathlessly. She was very wet herself, dripping with arousal. “Y-yes please… Do it inside…” she pleaded as she pulled away. Laying on her back again, she grabbed hold from the bedside table of a mixture of bitter herbs to drink, which she shared with him. Once the acrid taste had left their mouths, she parted her legs and waited for him to join her with an impatient smile.

She didn’t have to wait long. He crawled on top of her, his arms resting on both sides of her head as he inserted himself into her with a loud groan from both of them. She quickly pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, her legs wrapped around his waist, and he set a slow and steady pace with his thrusts. Despite that, she could feel how close he was. His dick twitched and throbbed against her walls, hitting all the right spots as it made its way inside. Like it rightfully belonged in there.

The sight of her body rocking as he moved was always an unique marvel. Varré would never grew tired of it. He moaned in her ear, burying his face in her neck as his cock mercilessly pumped in and out of her. He could smell her, taste her excitement, and nobody, no one was stopping it. She was excited because of him, and nobody else in the Lands Between.

He peered down at the ring around his finger, in the shape of a garland of rose petals and adorned with a small ruby on top. In just a few months, they were going to belong to one another, forever. Until the rest of time.

Varré whined softly in her neck as he came, twitching briefly when he released himself inside of her. Her hips arched as she welcomed him, her moans and huffs like a symphony for him when she finished too.

“I… I love you, my lambkin~” he said, giving her the most lovestruck smile she’d ever seen from him. She pulled him in for another kiss on the lips, still panting like she had run for miles on end.

“I… I love you too, dear” she said back, smiling up at him.

He soon pulled out with a sigh, leaving her to whine with his sudden absence, and laid down beside her, hugging her from behind to hold her close.

Neither of them spoke for a while, simply enjoying the aftermath of the moment.

However, Valyssa turned around to face him after a while. “I was wondering… our Lord said he would provide an unique kind of spell for the event, but… what if something goes wrong? And there’s no way it’s not going to be painful.”

It would be, for sure. He must be huge, under the… erm. Garments. Her blush felt as scalding as a forest fire.

“Ah, my lambkin, there is no need to worry. Certainly Lord Mohg will be gentle, the purpose of the ritual is not to break you!” the man said, chuckling to himself a little. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll gladly kiss that fear out of you~ Would that help?”

“Y-yeah. I-it would. Thank you, dear.”

Her response made him smile, and he hold her close, lovingly rubbing her back as their lips met in a slow but passionate kiss.

“At least we won’t have to worry about… unexpected surprises. The Lord said the spell would prevent those too” she explained, pulling away.

He seemed to stiffen for a moment. But he quickly resumed with his warm demeanor. “Of course. We listen and follow the Luminary’s instructions. He knows what’s best.”

“Exactly. And it’s the best option for us too.” She kissed his cheek. “It would be too early, anyway. And we should have our own child, Lord Mohg was clear about it.”

Can an Omen even… impregnate a Tarnished woman? Would it even be possible? Are there any records of similar stuff happening?

“Yes, it would be wise to time it right. We have so much to accomplish and plan out, still” he mumbled, mind-absently stroking her abdomen.  

“Do you think it would… kill me? If it ever took place?”

And what lengths would you go for, just to have what you want the most?

“Perhaps. Or perhaps not. However, you shouldn’t let the thought mess with your mind, my lambkin. They’re bad for your health.”

She sighed, burying her face in his neck as she hugged him briefly, taking in his scent and presence. He was so warm…

“A… alright. Anyway, let’s change topic. I’ll go make some breakfast, do you want anything?” she asked, moving away from him to slip out of the sheets.

“Well, an encore of you would be quite enticing~ but on a serious note, some stormhawk eggs sound delicious. Wait for me, I’ll come too-“

“No, I’ll handle the food. You’ve been exhausting yourself for the past week with my wedding dress, you need to rest” she said, gathering her clothes as she redressed.

“Oh, that? That is only a trifle matter, dear.”

“Varré. You’ve been staying up all nights working on the tissues, and then there’s your own attire too” she declared.

“Admitedly, I can’t bear heading to bed with the thought of not getting them done. I want to craft them myself. And they have to be perfect” he explained, yawning softly as he stretched his arms out.

“Well, if you insist…” she giggled. “Unfortunately I have no skills with needles and threads. But you, you’re a natural.”

“When… when you spend countless days stitching bodies and corpses, you will get used to the art. On top of that, I like it. It’s soothing, and requires fervent dedication and creativity. And not unlike organic matter, you need to be precise or else everything falls apart before your eyes” Varré continued, snuggling under the sheets as he looked at her one more time. His eyelids were feeling heavier all of a sudden.

“Uh-uh. In any case, I’ll be back soon with the-“ Valyssa turned towards him, only to find his eyes shut. His chest rose and descended peacefully, as he had gone back to sleep.

She smiled, quietly sitting onto the bed right next to him. Alright then love, rest well. I'll take it from here.

[animasolaoriginal]

I n f a t u a t e d ♦️ONE

CHAPTER ONE TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN ELEVEN◾️TWELVE◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN

A chance encounter under the strobe light. Hips swaying to the thumping bass. Dark eyes following her every move. Gazes meeting through the crowd. She came to him. He took her away. Changing her life forever, guiding her into submission.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Noncon/dubcon elements. Roofies. Abduction. Dom/sub dynamic. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 3.9k

A/N: Please remember: This is fiction! As much as I enjoy writing fucked-up characters, this is not real. I do not condone this behavior! Men, be nicer to women! Girls, always check your drinks! Be mindful of strangers, no matter how nice they seem and how hot they look. And be careful what you wish for! So, technically this is a modern AU of my original story Innocence Lost, picks up on some themes, but it's basically just a fucked-up man abducting a girl (it's not stated in the beginning, but she's over 18!) and having fun with her (and then things may escalate a little!). Be mindful of the tags! This may be my darkest piece yet. (Dead dove, do not eat, as they say, right?) Also pretty self-indulgent, but there is some plot between all the filthy smut that is to come, I swear. > There are no names, no physical descriptions other than a size and age difference, so you can imagine any character here! <

ONE 🟥 TWO

Innocent.

She's been innocent, the sweetest little thing he's ever seen. Laughing with her friends, oblivious to her own beauty, blind to the leering stares of every single male around her. And he's been one of them, staring, watching her, looking her up and down as she moved her fragile little body to the beat of the thumping bass, motions contorted and jerky in the strobe light, hair swinging, hips shaking, lips curling into happy smiles.

So innocent.

Probably just a mask, an act. Or maybe she's really been as pure as she looked back then, he'll never know. Because as soon as he's laid his eyes on her, she's been corrupted, tainted by his dark desires. He wanted to corrupt her, ruin her, and he always got what he wanted. He lured her in, kept watching her until she noticed his stares, the darkness in his gaze, the hunger within him. And she came to him, drawn to his mystique, his persistence.

Curious little thing, clueless to the monsters around her.

He smiles at her, rakes his eyes over her body, over that outfit she chose to impress without realizing what might happen, whose attention she might attract. The tight top, squishing those small breasts (pert little nipples standing proud under the shifting breeze of the AC), showing off the flat of her stomach, the flutter of her belly after she's danced her heart out, chest heaving, sweat on her brow, beads rolling down her pale, untouched skin. Slim naked arms holding the drink between her fingers, the soft rattle of cheap jewelry on her wrists, around her neck.

Girly, cute, pure.

And that skirt, mid-thigh, tame when she's standing still, scandalous when she's moving, the fabric flowing around her legs, bending down (bending over), accidentally showing off those cute little panties beneath. Giggling when she realizes her mistake, small hands trying to cover up, but people already saw, and she's aware. She's been aware he saw everything of her. Eager eyes, big and fucking innocent, following his every move.

He takes the drink from her, stares down at her, no longer smiling, and she looks up, chin tilted, so tiny in front of him, innocent, expectant, excited. Putting the glass down, he grabs her wrist, frail cheap jewelry bending under his grip. For a small moment she's hesitant, notices the strength in his fingers, the determination behind the gesture. But she still follows him as he pulls her away from the bar, into the shadows.

How do you break an innocent girl? Show her what's what? What may happen if she steps into the lion's den wearing that skimpy top and maybe-scandalous skirt? So naive. Swinging her hips to the blasting music, bouncing those tiny tits, laughing like nothing else matters, enjoying herself. A little light in the moving darkness. A light he wants to savor before he'll let her burn out.

If she'd be any other girl, he'd have her pinned to the wall, skirt flipped up, panties ripped down, his belt open in seconds before he'd sink his cock into her tight little cunt, to ravage her, ruin her, use her like she's supposed to be used. But she's too pure to be railed against a wall, in the dimly-lit club, for everyone to see.

He still pushes her against the wall, inhaling that little gasp she issues when she hits it, looking up at him, lips parted, eyes wide, gaze blurry, pupils already dilated, the thrill of the encounter and adrenaline of the night (and possibly some drinks she was mysteriously gifted) pumping through her body. Grabbing her face with his big hands, he holds her firmly when he leans closer, takes his time, gives her time to push him away (what a rare treat, girl), but she just stands there, looking at him, a little glint in her eyes, her lips curving up ever so slightly.

She wants this.

And he gives it to her. His lips meet hers, one hand holds her cheek, thumb guiding her chin, while the other hand slips into her hair, fisting it, a tight grip to hold her as he kisses her, a soft beginning, quickly turning rougher, more hungry, desperate. And she kisses him back in the same way, mirrors his motions perfectly. Such a quick learner. Their tongues slide against each other before he pushes deeper, tastes the inside of her mouth, that sweet taste, of some sugary drink and her, so much of her, and it's intoxicating.

So sweet. Innocence oozing from every pore.

He cages her in, pushes her against the wall, feet on either side of hers, knees around her legs, and she's that tiny thing in front of him, standing there, kissing him back, but her body seems frozen, hands at her sides, immobile. Petrified? A doe-eyed thing caught in the headlights? Not for long. His hand moves down to her waist, fingers digging into soft skin, warm and smooth, slipping up under the hem of her shirt, teasing at the little mound beneath.

No bra. Too innocent (and small) to need one.

Her hand comes up then, closing around his wrist, but she's not pulling him away, she's pushing his hand higher until his rough palm closes around her breast. Tiny tits, usually not his preference, but it's cute, that little squishy flesh under his big hand, warm and soft, and the longer he kneads it, the harder her nipple pokes into his palm.

And then she moans into his mouth. His eyelids flutter, and he stares at her, lips hovering over hers, heavy breaths mingling, head spinning, the tension in his stomach making it so hard to keep his composure, to stick to his decision to spare her his usual treatment. He gropes her small tit once more before he pulls his hand back, sliding it down her side, watching her closely.

He grabs her ass cheek harder than intended and leans in to capture her mouth when she yelps quietly in response, swallowing her noises, the thump of the music vibrating through his tense body. In his mind he's already ripped her clothes off, run his hands all over her smooth, untouched skin, fingers pinching her nipples, teasing between her legs, slipping deeper, into her tight innocent warmth –

A grunt escapes him. She's gripping the front of his shirt, her small hands clinging to him while she kisses him back, eagerly, completely lost in the unexpected encounter. Eyes closed, humming against him, body inching closer, searching for his warmth. The hand on her ass pulls her against him, a little thud that makes her mewl into his mouth, before it slips lower, cups her rear, pushes her up, fingers brushing against that little damp piece of fabric, and it's enough to make him hoist her up onto his hip.

Her hands claw at the collar of his shirt while her legs wrap around him almost automatically, conditioned, programmed to submit. A deep-rooted thing she isn't aware of yet. Her pelvis presses into his hipbone as he balances her, back pressed to the wall, both of his hands now on her plump cheeks, holding, groping. He can feel her warmth, that hint of wetness, arousal she's probably confused by.

“I'm gonna take you with me,” he rasps into her neck as he leans in to shower her soft skin with hungry kisses, lips closing around her fluttering pulse, sucking the blood to the surface with a determination that surprises himself.

“What?” she breathes against his cheek, a sweet little sound in his ears, so pure, a soft hum in the atmosphere.

“Don't worry about it,” he mumbles, licking over the bruise he's created on her neck. She shivers in his hold, chest moving against him. He leans back, licking his lips, meeting her curious gaze. “You need another drink,” he says with a smirk. It's not a question.

He sets her down again, grabbing her hand, leaning over to brush his lips over her temple until she looks up at him. Then his other hand is on her chin, holding her as he crashes his mouth against hers for another searing kiss. A little whimper escapes her. She's confused, he can tell, overwhelmed by whatever is happening.

Pulling her towards the bar, he nods to the barkeeper, a gesture often used. She's leaning against him, caged between his hard body and the counter, looking up at him with those big eyes. He smiles down at her, caressing her soft cheek with the back of his finger. He's got her, he knows. She doesn't even care about her friends anymore (and they seem to have forgotten about her too, he can see them dancing on the other side of the room). All she does is look at him, mesmerized.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the bartender sliding the drinks over the counter top. He takes the prepared drink (something sugary with a special ingredient) and hands it to her, then takes the little vodka shot for himself, eyes fixed on her as he clinks the glasses together. She smiles shyly and takes a cautious sip, while he downs the shot in one go, feeling the liquid burning down his throat. The music thumps around them, the air thick and heavy with alcohol and sweat, and a tension that's just between them.

The innocent girl, sipping her drink, staring up at the man, who watches her with a predatory smirk. His hand is heavy on her hip, warm and comforting, holding her in place, thumb rubbing over her fluttering stomach. She finishes the sugary concoction and wipes her mouth, glass empty on the bar. He leans down and brushes his lips against her ear.

“Come with me,” he whispers, and she shivers, her hand finding the front of his shirt again. He steps back, his hands running along her arms until they close around her slim wrists. The bass sits low in his guts, and he can't help but move his body slightly to the music as he leads her backwards. She laughs softly, a little sway to her hips as she follows him. But they leave the dance floor and walk back into the shadows.

He watches her closely, she blinks more, eyelids heavy, lips parted, that cute little tongue out to lick them, once, twice, again, almost obsessively. He takes her to the back, past the office, the music becoming that thick beat in the distance, a deep thrum in the air, through the walls, muffled as if the world was made of cotton. He leans her against the wall, a body too easy to move by now, his hands on her shoulders as he leans down to rub his nose against hers.

“Be a good girl and stay right here,” he tells her, waiting for her to understand.

She nods slowly, licking her lips again, and he presses his mouth to hers, capturing that sweet little tongue, sucks on it, kisses her deeply, tastes the sugar and her and more. Dangerous move, but he can't help himself. He leans back, moves his lips down her jaw, along her neck, swipes his tongue in a broad stroke over that soft skin. She mewls in response, and he grins against her before leaning back.

“I'll be right back,” he says, his eyes boring into hers, making sure she does what he tells her. She nods again, biting her swollen lip.

He hasn't planned to take her, but he'll adapt, as always. It's a risky move, but he somehow knows it's going to be fine. He has an eye for these things, knows what to do if situations (opportunities) like this present themselves. Just a few calls, some more ominous nods to his employees, no problem, just a few minutes of his time to sort things out. Somewhat. He doesn't even know why he's taking her away, it just feels right. The temptation is too strong to ignore.

He shouldn't have left her.

When he returns, they are there, crowding her, two guys, frat boys probably, drunk out of their minds, slurring and stumbling, but determined to take what is now his. He's on them in no time, hand ripping them away from the frightened but still confused girl, frozen in place as hands gripped and groped her, slipping under her clothes, going places that are reserved to him.

His fist lands hard against a jaw, one of them tumbling to the floor with a howl, the other, too drunk to react, just stares at him, and he doesn't wait for him to realize what is happening. There's blood on his knuckles when the second guy goes down as well, two crumpled guys on the floor, holding their bloody faces. He grabs the girl with his left hand, carefully pulling her against him. She's swaying, legs trembling, arms wrapping around his waist helplessly.

One of the boys stirs, and he steps on his hand and kicks him back, another howl swallowed by the distant thump of the music. He takes a few steps, raps his fist against the door. A bouncer opens it, and he tilts his head towards the mess behind him. “Take care of this,” he orders, and the burly man nods, slipping into the club while he maneuvers the girl out of it.

The night is cold, semi-fresh air, but the noises are no longer muffled. The city breathes around them as he guides her to his car, parked in the back. She clings to him, barely able to function on her own anymore, eyes heavy, lips parted. He leans her against the trunk, hands holding her soft face, looks her over. She looks at him from under her lashes, too out of it to realize anything anymore. He gives her a soft kiss to her warm cheek, a little giggle escapes her.

She falls into the passenger seat, a frail little body unable to move on its own. He leans over to buckle her in, feeling her deep breaths on his chin. A short side glance shows him she has her eyes closed, chest rising and falling, head lolled to the side. His hand is on her cheek as he kisses her gently, savoring the warmth, already imagining what he could use her for. But he has to be patient.

When he rounds the car to get behind the wheel, his morals flare up, a rare occurrence, but the sight of her slumped into the seat, helpless and fucking innocent, makes him wonder how it's come to this. He's seen her dancing, in that tight top and short skirt, a laughing little light in the darkness around her. Pure. Ready to be soiled. He inhales the cold night air and slips into the driver seat, shaking his head to get rid of those damn doubts, flexing his bloodied knuckles on the steering wheel as he turns his head towards her small form.

In the end she is just another body to be used, like she should be.

They arrive at his place, and it's a blur for him to get her into the elevator, a little breathing bundle in his arms, so light and heavy at the same time. Temptation. He puts her down on the bed, watches her, how she curls up into a ball of limbs and hair, breathing softly, skirt bunched up around her hips, that sweet round butt on display, cute panties he wants to rip off her immediately. But he refrains, sighs, turns away to wash the blood off his hands.

Unbuttoning his shirt as he returns, his eyes are on her, taking in every detail. He keeps his pants on, keeps his hard erection in place for now, no matter how difficult it is to hold back. The urge to just take her is strong, push those panties aside and impale her on his thick cock. It'd be so easy. She wouldn't even feel anything, wouldn't remember a single thing. And there's the problem. He doesn't want to fuck a lifeless body, no matter how cute she looks.

He wants to see the fear in her eyes, the pain when he penetrates her, stretches her, deflowers her, possibly. Maybe even the lust growing in her pupils, that dilated look of pure bliss. Who knows, she might be into this. She followed him so willingly, she came to him, after all, approached the monster that kept staring at her. She made the first step. He just watched.

She stirs on the bed, soft little noises tumbling past her lips. He leans over her, rolls her onto her back, turns her head to the side so she won't choke on her own spit. There are other things he wants her to choke on. Later. It's almost caring how he brushes her hair out of her face, caresses her cheek, flushed and warm from sleep. Thumb finding the contours of her lips, soft and wet, pushing between them, into her mouth, searching for that sweet little tongue.

He pulls back with a deep sigh. Watching her for another moment, he decides to undress her after all. At least the skirt has to go, so he moves his hands under her body and fumbles for the zipper, then pulls it off her slim legs, nudges her shoes and socks off in the same move. He even removes her cheap jewelry, the soft clanging sounds of the thin metal filling the quiet room. She stirs slightly, smacks her lips, but doesn't wake. Not that she could, not yet. He folds the skirt and puts it on the nightstand, the sneakers he leaves under the bed, socks tucked into them, then turns his attention back to her sleeping form.

So fucking innocent in her tight top and those cute panties. A soft pink with little white bows on it. Childish almost, a girl caught in that awkward phase between adulthood and innocence, right on the verge. He doesn't know how old she is, but he trusts his bouncers to only let in girls of age. They're experts in finding fake IDs, good judges of character also. To be honest, though, it wouldn't change anything anyway. She is here now, on his bed, ready to be used, soiled, ravaged. He can't fucking wait.

But he has to, so he leans back and inhales deeply, ignoring the strain in his pants. His hands are itching to touch her, feel that warm smooth skin, pure and untouched. Almost. He can see the bruise on her neck that he worked into her. His mark. The beginning of many more, he's sure. He leans in, braced on one arm, one knee denting the mattress, his other hand tracing her jaw until he feels the little thump of her heartbeat in her jugular. His fingers curl around her neck, thumb pressed to her throat, as he stares down at her.

His mind floods with images of soft lips strained around his cock as he forces it down her throat, the tears in her eyes, the desperate grip of her fingers, trying to push him away as she struggles to breathe, spit and cum on her face, dripping down her chin, down between her tiny tits, chest heaving, throat bulging, a small body shuddering under the assault. He leans back with a groan, his stomach tensing in anticipation.

His hand trails down her side, teases those soft mounds under the top, scrapes over the hem of her panties, down her inner thigh, a little nudge and her legs open, a body to move how he wants to, so pliant. He's tempted to throw his plans overboard, the urge growing to just take her and relieve the throbbing need in his pants. His fingers are shaking as he brushes them between her legs, over the soft, slightly damp fabric of her underwear.

He can't help himself any longer, he slips a finger under the hem, feels her warm skin and the slick gathering between her soft folds. Biting his lip, he traces her slit, from the little hidden nub down to her entrance, and he can already tell she's never been touched here before, tight and pure. Maybe she's had her own little fingers in there, but she'll soon find out that it won't compare to anything he's planning to do to her.

A grunt escapes him when he pushes the tip of his finger into her hole, a little squelching sound accompanied by a little whimper. He looks up, but she's still gone, head turned to the side, drool gathering in the corner of her parted lips. He watches her as he dips his finger deeper, feels the tight grip of her cute little cunt, so warm and squishy, barely able to accommodate one of his digits. This will take some work if he wants to keep her.

He's used virgins before, broke them, ravaged them until their blood mixed with his cum, their pained screams like music in his ears, but this girl... she's too innocent to be treated like that. It's a strange feeling he's never had before. It's warm and somewhat comforting, as smooth as her tight little pussy. He pumps his finger slowly in and out, noticing the wetness gathering around it. Her mind may be clouded, but her body reacts nonetheless.

Why not start her training while she's unconscious? Might make it easier for her once she comes to. He settles next to her, pushing her panties aside more to allow his thumb to find her clit. Pumping his finger, he rubs it gently, draws tight circles around that sensitive bundle of nerves, feels it pulsing under his touch. His cock twitches against the fabric of his pants, and he grits his teeth to ignore it.

Her body shudders, little uncontrollable twitches in her thighs, her stomach fluttering, her soft breaths slightly faster as he keeps working his finger into her tight warmth. His eyes on her face, relaxed in sleep, but there's still a little twitch to her eyebrows, a little furrow, a quiet whimper falling from those plump lips. He fingers her faster, thumb pushing harder on her nub, those sweet squelching sounds making his head spin.

A tiny moan erupts from her throat, a quiet “Ah...” humming in the atmosphere, and he feels her tensing up, her walls gripping his finger, but he works it in and out still, knuckles-deep, thumb assaulting her clit. He wants to lean in and taste her so bad, but somehow he holds himself back, another trait he's new to. Instead he watches her small body convulsing under his touch, hips jerking against his hand, cunt clamping down on his digit, and when he pulls it out, her wetness seeps out of the tiny hole, trailing down to the other, dripping onto the sheets.

He inhales deeply, takes in that sweet scent of her orgasm, and wipes his hand on her inner thigh, spreading her release on her warm skin, before he leans back and brings his finger to his lips, unable to fight the urge to taste her after all. He prefers to have his face between soft thighs, drinking directly from that intoxicating fountain, but for now it'll do. His tongue laps around his fingertip, and he closes his eyes, taking her in, that sweet, sweet taste.

Before he leaves her be, he adjusts her panties and throws the blanket over her sleeping form. Then it's a short trip to the bathroom, shower turned on, clothes discarded on the floor, and he's barely in there when his right hand closes around his angrily throbbing cock.

Fuck. This girl will be a challenge. An exercise in restraint.

🟥 TWO

End notes: So, I guess the slow burn of Innocence Lost got to me, big time. I have no idea from what dark and ugly depths I pulled this story, but it is here, at least the first 10 chapters of it, the first season if you will. (And there will be more!) I'll upload a new chapter every Monday!

I hope the tags didn't put you off too much, but if you are reading this, maybe you pulled through, and I thank you for it! Thank you for joining me on this wild ride! I appreciate you very much!

By the way, this all came to be, somehow, because I've been listening to a lot of Electric Callboy recently (strangely enough, iykyk) and their video to Hate/Love kinda brought this all down. Or at least started it all. Sometimes inspiration strucks in the weirdest forms.

Thanks again for reading! Next chapter on Monday!

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE◾

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE ◾️TEN

ELEVEN◾️TWELVE ◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN

[thatgiraffefromtlou]

The Aurora Project

(part 2)

(tumblr won’t let me tag part one for some odd reason but it’s in my pinned post! make sure you read that first 🫶🏻)

summary: as a result of a malfunction, you and ellie awaken from cryosleep aboard a spaceship with no memory. will you find evidence that you're more than just shipmates? something to give reason to your nagging familiarity to the stranger you wake up next to?

warnings: eventual explicit language, potential for smut in later chapters (depending), uh cringy teasing idk- Imk if there's more this is also pretty tame-

A/N: so erm this definitely isn’t the best work of mine i won’t lie to you guy. it’s only slightly proof read 🧍🏼 like i said the results of this election has my mind kind elsewhere, but writing is still very therapeutic for me and i really wanted to get something put out for you guys! plus im excited to post this and continue this story and i don’t want that to be taken from me. anyways enough about that i hope you guys enjoy!!

work count: 2.6K (ik sorry they will eventually be longer)

– Chapter two -

"Maybe your eye would work?" you break the silence, your voice echoing softly in the open space. You and Ellie sit on either side of the exit, your backs pressed against the cool, metallic walls. It took you two what felt like forever, but you finally found a door. The hope that cascaded through your bodies upon first seeing the door was palpable, a surge of excitement that quickly dissipated the moment you realized it was locked. The lock mechanism, a complex array of technological marvels you’ve never encountered, had multiple parts, but only needed one of the three ways to get through: an eye scanner, a password, or a thumbprint.

The eye scanner looked like a floating camera, or at least that's the best way you could describe it. It hovered eerily, set maybe a foot above a see-through keyboard that seemed to defy gravity. Glowing boxes surrounded glowing letters, numbers, and symbols, creating an otherworldly interface. It was strange, almost disconcerting, the way those two things seemed to float beside the door, as if held in place by some invisible force. In stark contrast, the fingerprint scan was firmly affixed to the actual door itself, a more tangible and familiar security measure. Either way, two of these things you thought Ellie might be able to manipulate, given her potential credentials.

"Huh?" Ellie turns her head to you, her brows furrowed in confusion and her upper lip slightly risen on one side, creating an expression of both intrigue and skepticism. "It's a shot in the dark but..." you begin, your mind racing to connect the dots, "Our name plates—only you had 'Dr.' in front of your name." You shrug your shoulders and lick your lips, your theory on the tip of your tongue. Turning your body to face more in her direction, your legs tucking slightly under your thighs in an attempt to get comfortable on the hard floor, you continue, "Maybe you have some form of authority here? I mean, hell, maybe you're even an astronaut? It's not too far-fetched considering our surroundings."

She looked at you with an expression that was a perfect blend of disbelief and flattery, as if you had just said the most absurd yet complimentary thing imaginable. Her eyes widened slightly, eyebrows raised, creating a very confused expression that spoke volumes. "Or," she countered, her voice tinged with a hint of skepticism, "I'm just a doctor who practices medicine and they need doctors in this place we're headed towards? It seems more likely, doesn't it?" Your shoulders literally slump at that, the weight of disappointment settling on you. "Yeah, you're probably right…" you concede, your voice trailing off.

You sit with your back against the wall again, the cool surface a stark reminder of your predicament. Your mind starts racing, deciding to go back to the drawing board. Maybe there's another door on the other side? Air vents? As these thoughts swirl in your head, Ellie suddenly stands up, her movement catching you off guard. She leans over slightly, putting her eye at level with the scanner, a look of determination etched on her face. You look up at her curiously, and suddenly there's a beep—a sharp, electronic sound that cuts through the silence—and the doors slide open with a smooth, hydraulic hiss.

You get on your feet immediately, adrenaline surging through your body, and she turns back to you, her face a mask of genuine shock mirroring your own. "No way..." you say in awe, your voice barely above a whisper as you look through the now open door. The view beyond is bleak, not really what you were hoping for. Just another long walkway stretches before you, more walkways branching off like a labyrinth of sterile corridors. "Guess I am an astronaut..." Ellie says quietly, a smile playing on her lips, tinged with a mixture of pride and bewilderment.

You look back to her, her smile a welcome contrast to the boring white hallway that seems to stretch endlessly before you. You can't help but smile back, a sense of camaraderie growing between you. "Of course you are," you say, your voice filled with a newfound confidence, "I'm never wrong." Ellie huffs air out of her nose in a small laugh, her smile widening as she shakes her head, a gesture that seems both exasperated and fond. She takes a deep breath, straightening her back again, and steps into the hallway with cautious steps. You follow close behind, your footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. The doors close with a whooshing sound behind you both, sealing off the room you just left.

"Why'd you give it a try?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you as you fall into step beside her. Ellie shrugs, her eyes scanning the corridor ahead. "Better than sitting there with no solution," she replies, her tone matter-of-fact. She glances at you, a hint of amusement in her eyes, "and something told me you're never wrong or whatever." You smile as the warm sense of familiarity fills you again, this time less scary but just as confusing as before. It's a feeling you can't quite place, like a half-remembered dream or a song you can't quite recall. "Fair enough," you joke a little, your voice light.

Silence settles over the two of you for a moment before you speak again, "So, Dr. Ellie," you say, emphasizing her title with a playful tone, a little pep in your step, your body angled more towards her than forward. "What's our next move? Any pearls of astronaut wisdom to share with us mere mortals?" The question is wrapped in a layer of jest, but underneath, it's clear you're both grappling with the same pressing concern: what on earth—or rather, what in space—are you supposed to do now?

Ellie responds with a soft chuckle, her eyes never ceasing their scan of the corridors stretching out before you. "Well," she begins, her voice tinged with a hint of self-deprecation, "If I had to guess, I think our best bet would be to find some kind of control room or like a central hub. I mean.. there's bound to be a nerve center somewhere." As she speaks, her hands move in small, unconscious gestures, as if trying to shape her thoughts in the air.

She gives a little shrug, the movement almost diminishing the weight of her ideas. It's a strange contradiction—the self-assurance in her logic juxtaposed against a hint of awkwardness in her delivery. The dichotomy is intriguing; she clearly knows she's smart, but there's a flutter of something—maybe modesty, maybe uncertainty—when that intelligence is on display.

You nod, genuinely impressed by her logical approach despite her hesitation. "Makes sense," you agree, your voice trailing off a little as you mull over her suggestion. After a moment you ask, "Any ideas on how we might go about finding this hypothetical control room?"

Ellie's eyebrows lift a fraction, and when she speaks again, her words seem to require a touch more effort than before, as if she's carefully weighing each one. "Well, we could start by looking for signs, I suppose?" Her gaze flicks to you briefly before returning to the path ahead, a mix of consideration and caution in her eyes. "Or, failing that, we could follow the main corridor?" She gestures ahead with a sweep of her hand. "In my experience-“ she cuts herself off in a fluster. “Or what I think might be my experience, given our current memory situation—important areas are usually centrally located and well-marked."

You hum thoughtfully and nod, acknowledging the soundness of her strategy. "So, essentially, we keep walking straight until we stumble upon another door or some kind of signage?" A note of playful sarcasm creeps into your voice as you add, "Sounds absolutely thrilling..."

Ellie responds with an eye roll, but there's a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, softening the gesture. "Well, unless you've got a better idea tucked away in that sarcasm-filled brain of yours, Captain Quip, I think that's our best bet for now." She pauses for a beat, then adds with a touch of dry humor coloring her words, "Who knows? Maybe if we're really lucky, we'll stumble upon a space casino or an alien petting zoo along the way."

"A petting zoo?" you echo, latching onto the absurd image with enthusiasm. "Maybe they've got some kind of high-tech Noah's Ark situation going on up here." The mental picture draws a laugh from both of you, the sound a welcome break in the tension. As your chuckles subside, you're struck by a sudden realization. "You know what? I could really go for a drink right now. God, I'm thirsty. Are you thirsty too?" The question hangs in the air for a moment before you notice something's off. You turn, expecting to see Ellie beside you, but she's nowhere in sight. Confusion floods your system. Wasn't she just—

You’re quickly interrupted by the sound of your name being called. It's Ellie's voice, but it's coming from at least 20 feet behind you. You spin around, your eyes searching, and finally spot her. She's standing in front of a doorway, her arm extended, finger pointing at something beyond. "Look," she calls again, her voice a mix of excitement and wariness.

You quickly jog back to where Ellie is standing. As you draw closer, you see what has captured her attention: before you a mini hall, maybe 3 feet long ending with a small door.

Your gaze follows Ellie's pointing finger to the side of the door, where a placard identical to those at the foot of your pods catches your attention. The name 'Dr. Williams' is etched onto its surface, below her name is a simple +1, causing a small jolt of recognition to course through you. "Oh..." you breathe, the single syllable barely audible as it escapes your lips. Your eyes dart between Ellie and the plain white door, a feeling of apprehension swirling in your gut.

"Well, let's open it," you suggest, your voice a blend of impatience and nervousness. Ellie responds with a nod, her face showing her own set of conflicting emotions. She reaches out, her hand settling on the doorknob - a long, flat apparatus that stands out against the sterile white of the door. Your eyes are drawn to a peculiar smooth shiny black rectangle spot near where the handle attaches to the door, its purpose unclear but somehow significant.

Ellie's fingers wrap around the handle, and she attempts to turn it. The door remains closed, the handle refusing to even budge an inch. A look of frustration flashes across her face as she tries again, her knuckles almost whitening with the force of her grip. Still, the door doesn't budge.

You watch intently as Ellie's brow furrows in concentration, her fingers now tracing the outline of the mysterious black spot. Suddenly, Ellie's eyes widen with realization, and she presses her thumb firmly against the black square. The silence that follows seems to stretch for an eternity, both of you holding your breath in anticipation. Then, a soft beep fills the air, shattering the tension.

Ellie turns the handle again and the door responds with a soft click as she pushes the door open. You and Ellie exchange a quick glance, a wordless communication passing between you. Taking a deep, steadying breath, you both step forward in unison. The room is small, almost like a one room apartment. The white sterile walls not following you into this space. You both set forward, Ellie in the lead as you both wordlessly scan the room. The walls may be white, but the room itself is vibrant with personality and life.

Every available surface is adorned with an array of memorabilia - framed photographs capturing moments frozen in time, colorful posters that speak of diverse interests, and shelves lined with an assortment of knick-knacks, each telling its own story. These decorations form a protective cocoon around the full-sized bed nestled at the far end of the room, creating a cozy sanctuary within the larger space. The front area of the room seamlessly blends the functionality of a kitchen with the comfort of a living room, defying the sterile environment beyond its walls.

As you step further into the room, your senses are overwhelmed by a collection of different scents, each fighting for dominance in the recycled air of the ship. The rich, invigorating aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the smoky, complex notes of aged whiskey. A faint, earthy scent of stale marijuana lingers in the background. Underpinning it all is a warm, masculine fragrance - reminiscent of a what you’d smell when you hug a Southern dad, all sun-warmed cotton and subtle cologne.

Despite the main overhead light being off, the room is bathed in a gentle, welcoming glow. A strategically placed array of lamps and twinkling string lights cast a soft, amber radiance throughout the space. This warm illumination not only brightens the room but also seems to ignite a spark of recognition deep within you. As your eyes adjust and roam over the personal touches scattered throughout, you can't shake the feeling that this space is somehow intimately familiar, as if you've spent countless hours within these very walls, or at least around these things.

Ellie quietly calls your name, her voice tinged with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. You slowly turn around to see her sitting on what you presume to be her bed, a framed photograph clutched in her hands. You make your way over to her, each step feeling both familiar and foreign on the ship's floor. As you settle beside her on the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under your combined weight, she carefully turns the photo to face you both.

The image captured within the frame immediately draws your attention. It's a snapshot of what appears to be a Halloween party, the background a blur of festive decorations and revelers. But it's the subjects of the photo that truly catch your eye - you and Ellie, looking carefree and happy, your costumes as whimsical as they are clever.

You find yourself staring at your own image, barely recognizing the person looking back at you. You're dressed in an elaborate moth costume, complete with intricately designed wings and antennae. Your costume-clad self is caught mid-motion, planting an exaggerated kiss on Ellie's cheek. Ellie, for her part, is sporting what can only be described as a lampshade on her head, her face alight with laughter and warmth.

The juxtaposition of the costumes isn't lost on you - a moth drawn to a lamp, a visual pun that speaks of inside jokes and shared humor. It's a moment of connection, of joy, frozen in time and preserved behind glass.

"Oh..." you breathe, the word barely more than an exhale. The photo feels like a key, unlocking a flood of emotions you can't quite place. Familiarity wars with the unsettling feeling of looking at strangers wearing your faces.

"Oh..." Ellie echoes, her voice a mirror of your own confusion and wonder. Her eyes flick between the photo and your face, searching for something - recognition, perhaps, or confirmation that you're feeling the same tumult of emotions that she is.

The silence stretches between you, filled with unspoken questions and the weight of implications neither of you are quite ready to voice.

A/N: hehehe lmk if you wanna be added to the tag listttttt

tag list: @autisticintr0vert (if you’re not tagged and asked to be, please check to make sure you’re ability to be tagged is on because your username did not show up!)

[metalomagnetic]

I feel like I’m always harassing you with my asks (sorry!!), but bouncing off of my previous request for Black lore- what are the Blacks (that we know) like ✨in bed✨? What are they into?

I spent way too long thinking of this!

We'll start with Sirius the Grandpa Black. I have a feeling he was wild in bed, like he was wild in everything. Curiously, I spoke with a friend about this just the past week, and I said 'he made his wife very happy in bed, and exasperated outside of it'. He was a leg man- he loved long, shapely legs on a woman. In his time-period, no one could see a woman's legs, all hidden by long skirts, but he had a way of guessing beforehand lol.

Arcturus- funnily enough, in the new chapter I am writing, Sirius jokes that Arcturus probably only had sex twice in his life, because he cannot see his strict grandfather as a sexual being. And while he certainly had sex more than twice, I think he was pretty standard in bed, nothing crazy, just plain old missionary style. He was a virgin when he married and never cheated on his wife, even after she died, had no desire for anyone other than her.

Pollux and Irma (in my story she's also a Black, half, on her mother's side) have the same dynamic in bed they have in real life. Irma really likes dominating him, and in bed, he actually enjoys it.

Cygnus has a pregnancy kink 😂 That aside, poor man hadn't had much sex since his wife fell into a deep depression.

Alphard was into nerdy, quiet men with a hint of a wild side (he once had a brief crush on Tom Riddle, of course). He was a very generous partner, in bed and outside of it. His last partner, whom he'd been with on and off for like two decades, and actually lived with for the last five years of his life, almost made an appearance in Canis Major, but I had to let the scene go. Alphard left what remained of his wealth to Sirius, but he left his beautiful home to his partner, who was disowned by his family when he moved in with Alphard.

Orion, like the hypocrite he is, likes wilful, stubborn women that defy social convention. The surest way to attract his attention was to 'behave atrociously' (as he would call it) in public. He's twisted, and he enjoys pursing strong women, only to dominate them when he gets them. As soon as he 'tames' them, he loses interest in them. He's very good in bed, very open minded unlike in every other aspect of his life. No one ever left Orion's bed unsatisfied.

Orion needs intimacy- he never had a simple one night stand. Even with his briefest affairs, he still took the time to know them first, and never jumped in bed at the first opportunity, nor was he one to feel attraction for a woman just based on her looks. I think he liked 'the hunt' most of all.

That aside, if his marriage hadn't broken apart, he'd have never cheated on Walburga. Before everything went to hell, for the first ten years of their marriage, he didn't even think of other women, was 1000000% satisfied with his wife. Even after it all went down the drain, during the years, whenever Walburga gave the briefest sign she wants him back in her bed, he'd abandon whoever he was with and come *running* back home, eating up whatever scrap of affection he could get from her.

Walburga was basically into everything Orion suggested, and she had a few suggestions of her own (learned from those erotica and sometimes straight up smut novels that she loves and were mentioned very briefly in It runs) that she wanted to try out. She loves dangerous men (that's why we see her reading books with a naked, fanged vampire on the cover). I'm certain she made Orion pretend he was a vampire at least once 😂 She also had a slight exhibitionism streak when she was younger and they lived in Egypt, which put Orion on edge (but also secretly delighted him). They weren't even having full on sex back then (Orion insisted they wait until marriage) but she found ways to rile him up and play with him and drive him mad until they finally retuned to England and got married.

Bellatrix is creative and she always chases a thrill, and her sex life is fabulous. Rabastan, poor dear, had seen and heard things in that Manor that either give him nightmares, either inappropriate dreams staring his sister in law and his brother. Sometimes, Bellatrix likes duels as foreplay, so she and Rodolphus destroy parts of the Manor and then fuck in the middle of the damage. Of course, they also have calmer sex, an entire day of lazying in bed with Rodolphus, filled with gentle love-making. But when they're feeling more wild and duels come into play, whoever wins gets to dictate the encounter.

No one knows what Narcissa likes in bed, only Lucius, and it took him like a few years to find out. So whatever happens in bedrooms in Malfoy Manor, shall remain between them.

Andromeda takes after her grandmother Irma, both in bed and out of it. Ted is her boy toy. He does whatever she asks, and they both enjoy it a lot.

Regulus, the little repressed freak, once he finally gets to have sex, he lets loose, and then he feels guilty for it, because he considers whatever he did as something beneath a man of his station. Orion should have really paid more attention to him, but he was also very young when Orion died, so they didn't get to have fun sex talk like Sirius got. He's so allergic to feelings and affection, he enjoys impersonal sex the most. Regulus only knows to accept love and give it back with his mother and his brother, no one else.

Sirius is- well, we know Sirius. Because of the way he was raised and all the shit he got from his mother about liking boys, he does have certain unhealthy behaviours. He adheres to the strict gender roles when it comes to sex, so when he's with a woman, he must always be in charge. That doesn't mean he isn't adventurous, but only as long as he has control. Even when he first gets with Voldemort, he unconsciously puts Voldemort in the 'woman's role' in his head. It takes a while for him to get comfortable, and he's lucky Voldemort is a very patient dude. Obviously, after that happens, we can see Sirius definitely has some sort of Daddy kink. Not that he'd think of it like that, nor would the word 'daddy' ever be uttered while he has sex with Voldemort, but he enjoys being taken care of by an older, powerful man. He also has a big praise kink, so there's that.

He's into different things in bed, depending if he's with a man or a woman. And while he did have plenty of mindless one night stands, I think he is most satisfied when he has a deep connection with his partner. He's desperate for affection, for a true connection, even if he was also afraid of having a bond like that. It's why he tried to distance himself from Marlene, even if he wanted her, because he was simply afraid of growing too close.

You never harass me with questions! I love the questions, especially because they make me think of my lovely Blacks and their mysterious lives. ❤️

[fictionalgap]

I Hate My Coworker (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Modern Au! Barista! Kit Thantalos x Barista! Reader

Summary: You got in an argument and things get interesting. 😉

Warnings: SMUT, swearing, Kit and reader is 18+

Chapters: Part 1,Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Song Recommendation: Taste - Ari Abdul

You rolled your eyes the entire time Kit flirted with the customers. A group of girls came here every week just to see Kit. It made your stomach sick. Especially the girl called Rachel was drooling over her. She was pretty.

However you never saw Kit writing her number on the coffee she made for the girl she flirted.

When Rachel left the shop after taking her usual order, her friends followed her to the outside. There were two customers in the shop who were enjoying their coffees.

You looked at Kit for a minute. Maybe more than one.

"Take a picture If you'd like. " She approached you with a cocky smile. You rolled your eyes and turned around to clean mugs. She was wearing a black tank top. She seemed like she hit the gym last couple of weeks.

Not that you care.

It just brought you more annoyement. You see, better she looked, more girls came here drooling over her. It was annoying. Joseph is maybe happy because it means more customers but you didn't care. It was inappropriate.

"It's inappropriate. " You muttered to yourself.

"Hm, what's that? " She appeared behind you.

She was so close that you could feel her warmth.

Your breath hitched. "Nothing."

"Hm." She said and turned around to organize some stuff. You felt cold when she moved away from you. It was weird.

You looked at her again and decided to tell her what you think this time.

"Actually... " You turned around.

She raised her her to look at you all her attention was on you.

"It's really inappropriate." You explained as you tried to tame your anger.

"What is? " She asked with a mocking stare.

"You. Flirting with customers. It's inappropriate and unethical. It's-"

"You're just mad because no one hitting on you. "

She said with delight.

"I. couldn't. care. less. " You said with a poker face. You really didn't want anyone to hit on you. You didn't want to start something romantic or sexual with someone you barely know. You had to know them and befriend them first.

"Liar."

"I don't like to flirt with random strangers. "

Kit looked at you to see through your facade but she couldn't find any.

"Why does it bother you then? " She said as she crossed her arms.

You gulped. You didn't really know the answer.

"As I said It's unethical to-" She cut you in the middle of the sentence.

"Cut the crap. "

"I don't have to explain you anything. " You said and moved towards the toilet. She followed you.

You felt her standing behind you. You turned around slowy.

"I know why does it bother you. " She said with heavy breath. You saw her face showing vulnerability which was something you never saw there before.

"Can you-"

"You're jealous." She said with a small hopeful smile.

Jealous?

You snorted so hard Kit backed away.

However as soon as she backed away she moved towards you, leaving a very small gap between you.

"I am sorry. This is just- Thank you for making me laugh but- "

You tried to move away but she put her hand to the wall behind you, blocking your way out.

"I really can't think of any other reason. If there is, please enlighten me. " She said her breath getting heavier and her blue eyes getting somehow darker than usual.

Maybe It was the lighting-

Her eyes darted to your lips.

What- Like, what- what the-

Her eyes found it's way towards you but you looked at her lips just like you did because, because-

Because you were slightly curious. Her lips looked soft. You wondered how soft they were.

You gulped and when you looked back at her you found her smirking cockily.

You blushed at her knowing smirk. Your breath shortened. You gulped again. You felt vulnerable. Like you were naked.

"What are you-" She leaned in to kiss you. It was soft. Really soft. You closed your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling. You felt her pull back. You found yourself leaning into her.

'Fuck. ' you thought to yourself. 'It felt fucking fine. ' You grabbed her cheeks as you pulled her closer to you and she put her hand around your waist, making gentle movements. Your core ached with more need. You liked the feeling. You hated It was her who was making you feel like that.

When she found your mouth open just a little bit she didn't hesitate to put her tounge into your mouth. You moaned at the contact. She pulled away and grinned. She grabbed your neck and pushed it to the side so that she can suck it as she likes.

She was gentle at first but you felt like she wanted to give a hickey so you put your knee in between her legs and pushed into her core and started to move it forward.

She whined and growled. She was really frustrated so she pinned you against the wall and kissed you as she wanted to devour you. You couldn't resist her and you kissed her back as hungrily as she did. Your hands were in her hair. Her hands were on your hips.

Her hand found it's way to the place between your legs, inside your pants.

"Oh. my. god. Is this for me? " She sounded actually suprised. She started to draw circles with her fingers.

"Don't get cocky, Thantalos. " You hardly could talk.

"Or what? " She put a shit eating grin on her face.

Her fingers started to move inside your pussy. She curled her fingers and found the sweet spot. You moaned loudly.

"That's what I thought. " She smiled smugly.

You felt dizzy as she curled and curled her fingers inside.

"Not so talkative when getting fucked, huh?"

You wanted to give an answer but your hips moved towards her finger to the point that it can be said you started to ride her fingers.

"I guess I found how to shut you up. " She grinned. You held onto her shoulders as she shifted herself so you can fuck yourself on her fingers easier.

She curled and curled her fingers.

"I think I'm-" You managed to say, eyes closed because of the pleasure.

"Come for me, Y/N. Come on my hand. " She growled.

You felt relieved as you came. You were breathing heavily. You looked at her to see her licking her own hand clean, eyes closed. She opened them slightly. Her half lidded eyes looked at you with lust. It was something you could never guess to see.

You sighed. You moved towards her and pushed your hand inside her jeans you moved the underwear out of the way and found that she was wet as well.

"Well, well, well, now, Is this for me? " You mocked her just like she did.

Her breath hitched. This time you pinned her against the wall.

She had the same shit eating grin again.

So you curled your fingers and got a dirty moan from her. You didn't like her. But you liked to hear her moan.

Very much.

"Ughh, just... be a good girl and give me a head. "

You shivered at the praise. You hated it.

You hated Kit Thantalos.

But you were fucking her.

And she just fucked you.

You pulled your hand from her jeans. "Why should I? " You wanted to tease a little.

Her eyes snapped open with urgency and need.

"I'll give you a head too, please. "

You raised your brow. "Only because you said please. "

You moved away anything in the way of her pussy and licked it all the way up.

It was pink and needy.

You give butterfly kisses fist but she started to squirm then you smacked her butt cheek. Her head turned to you. You looked at her.

"Don't move. "

You started slow but you grow to eat her hungrily and she was really having hard time not to move.

She grabbed and pulled your hair which you loved.

"Keep going. I'm so close. " She said smiling and in depths of pleasure.

"Come on my mouth, Kit. "

"Ughh, I-" She came on your mouth and a little bit on your face. She looked down to see you gulping the cum on your mouth then taking the cum on your face with your finger and then sucking it clean.

She loved the view.

"Kit! Y/N! " Joseph's sound came out of the toilet. You both looked at the voice's direction and then to each other. You chuckled while blushing. You fixed yourselfs and washed your hands.

"We gotta go. " You said in a breath.

"Yeah. I guess I'll eat you out later. " Kit said with a shy smile.

You chuckled as you left the toilet with her.

[slasherbvnnie]

Hello!! Could I request a billy loomis smut about her being new to the school and then sitting beside eachother. It could be like strangers-to kinda friends-friends-good Friends- eventual smut when she gets jealous of Sydney. It’s fine if not! Have a good day! x

Hi! So sorry this request is late, but I really enjoyed writing it and couldn't stop to be completely honest. No smut in this part, but there will be in the second part of this! I honestly might make this longer and into a mini series, I like the idea!! Like, literally, this is longer than any chapter for Until We Found You...

Who's Watching Billy

Part II

Word Count: 2401

Context: Modern day scream au, all characters 18+, afab!reader

“Well feel free to take a seat anywhere, I’ll send you an email later today to update you on everything we’ve done so far. I’m sorry for the complications, admissions is kind of tricky sometimes,” you saw an older lady speaking to a guy. You looked down at the paper in your hand for the hundredth time before looking at the room number on the wall, staring at the two who were blocking the doorway to your class. Thankfully, you made out that the older lady was the professor, so you were thankful that she wouldn’t have any grudge against you for being late for class.

“You must be my other new student, right? Seems like your admins are having a fantastic time with schedules lately,” she joked as she looked to you. You flashed a sheepish smile, giving a nod as the guy turned his attention to you. You couldn’t help but blush, he was pretty cute and having his attention on you just made you want to cower away. A small smile turned on his lips before he looked back to the professor, thanking her for her help before walking into the class. “As I was telling Mr. Loomis, I’ll send you an email after class going over everything we’ve discussed so far. I’ll put all the information you need to know to be able to catch up with us, so just leave a good email with me once lecture is over,” she said as you nodded. “Great, thanks, I hope it hasn’t been too bad. My administrator just told me the class I was enrolled in before wasn’t going to count towards my program and all so- yeah.” You rambled on before nodding, “no worries dear, the only other seat that hasn’t been taken so far will be right next to Mr. Loomis. I’m glad you both arrived today, we’re having a lab later and you’ll need a partner for it,” she said as she moved out of the doorway, you nodded, heading to the back of the class to sit next to the guy from earlier.

“So, did they also fuck up your blocking or is it just your first day here,” he asked as you sat down, shaking your head. “uh- neither. I apparently enrolled in another class that would have just counted as an extracurricular and was told last minute that one I needed, this one, had one seat left open,” you explained as he nodded. “Glad you had a mess up, though. Otherwise I would be out of a partner,” he said, making you smile.

Two days later, you were back at class, seated next to Billy once again. “So, about the project, I was watching a few movies last night to get some ideas,” Billy said to you as you looked over, “oh? You found some movie scenes with chemistry in them?” You asked as he nodded, “have you ever watched who’s watching oliver?” He asked as you thought, “that slasher movie about some creepy dude who kills for his mom?” You smiled when he nodded, “yeah, you know the scene where he’s dissolving all the evidence? I figured that could fit with the project,” he said as you laughed, earning a small glare from him. “I don’t know…I mean, it’s kinda creepy to mention that. How about something more tame, like that movie where jeff Goldblum plays the guy who learned about dna or something,” you suggested as he rolled his eyes. “We could, if you want to be like majority of these idiots. Or, we could be more unique and disturb them while educating them,” he said with a smirk as you laughed again. “How about something better? We have a horror movie night while your set up to an apple watch, then we do some calculations to see if you were scared enough to emit isoprene.” You suggested, seeing his eyes light up. “isoprene,” he questioned as you nodded, “yeah, it’s this chemical we’re always processing but when you get scared, it goes up. We can monitor our heartrates with our apple watches while watching some scary movies and talk about that. We could even timestamp the scenes we got scared at,” you said as Billy smirked. “I’d like that,” he said with a smile as you nodded. “Wanna do it tonight then,” you asked as he looked away and sighed. “Ah, I’ll be busy with my girlfriend,” he admitted as you sighed, “oh…um, tomorrow night then?” You offered as he nodded with a smile. “Tomorrow night sounds good.” He agreed.

After class you said goodbye to Billy and began to head back to your home. You popped in your headphones and turned on your favorite playlist as you made your way to your car. What disturbed your usually normal walk however was seeing Billy with his girlfriend, as well as three others who were talking. You frowned a little, trying to brush off the tiny stupid crush you were developing on Loomis, getting a little angry for thinking that he didn’t have a girlfriend. He was handsome, of course he would have one. You were about to walk past, hearing the two other boys in the group arguing about something you couldn’t make out over your music, but you were disturbed when one came up to you. “Excuse me,” he said, making you pull out an earbud and look to him. “Ah, random awkward question, but do you think you would say you find me attractive. Me and this idiot are having a debate and-“ “leave her alone Meeks, I don’t want you freaking out my lab partner,” you turned to see Billy talking to the male in front of you, the girls and the other male laughing.

“Lab partner, huh,” said the third, you looking to the group in confusion. “Not freaked out, just confused,” you said with a small awkward laugh. “Randy thinks he has a chance with you, caught him drooling over you,” said the unknown male, “and he doesn’t. She’s too smart for him,” Billy said as he wrapped his arm around Sidney. “Sorry about them. That is Randy, a dumbass. The other dumbass is Stu. Then Tatum and…Sidney,” he said, kissing Sidney on the cheek when he introduced her. You tried to hide your frown and instead smiled, nodding. “Um, nice to meet all of you, I guess,” you said as the girls smiled. “So you take chem with Billy? You’re pretty lucky, he’s smart with that kind of stuff,” Tatum said as you nodded, “yeah, he is,” you said with a smile. “Sorry guys, I have to get going,” you said, about to put your headphones back in before Billy called out to you again. “Hey, still good for tomorrow?” He asked as you nodded, “Yup! I’ll text you what time,” you said, seeing Sidney give him a look at your response.

Ever since that night of horror movies, your feelings for Billy had only grown. You were mad at first because you knew him and Sidney were dating, but soon you just became mad that you two weren’t dating. Your anger turned into sadness eventually through the three months of the knowing each other, having been invited to hang out with the friend group more often and becoming a good friend to them. Throughout the months, Billy never seemed to once show interest in you, he wasn’t like Stu who constantly was flirting with others, or Randy who was trying to ask the two for advice on how to make you more interested in him, he just seemed content with Sid. However, October marked a turning point. Casey Becker and Steve Orth were the first thing that began to change the group. The next was the attempt at Sidney which led to Billy getting booked for a night.

You were surprised when Randy called you to let you know what happened, explaining how Sidney was nearly attacked by ‘leatherface’ which he used as a nickname for Billy. “What is this, fucking the house on sorority row or something,” he asked, as you shook your head. “So, did he do it?” “His dad’s some lawyer, even if he did he’s probably getting away with it,” he said as you sighed. “Thanks for letting me know, Randy. Um, I’m gonna call Tate to try and see what’s wrong,” you said, hanging up on him. The next day at school, you noticed that the spot next to you wasn’t empty. Instead, Billy sat, scrubbing his fingers to try and get the ink off. “Hey,” you said softly, his eyes darted up to you before he relaxed and looked back down at his hands, wiping them on his jeans. “Hey…” he said, surprised when you sat next to him. “Not afraid of the killer?” He asked as you laughed, “Loomis a killer? I mean I admit you are kinda creepy enough for it but, no, I don’t think you did it.” You said as he chuckled, “well I’m glad you don’t think so, Sid sure does,” he sighed as you rolled your eyes. “I mean, I could see it if you were in theater. Didn’t she say the killer left then you came out? You’d have to be a track star and the best undresser ever,” you joked, smiling when he laughed.

A bit into class you heard an announcement on the intercoms, you and Billy looked at each other when the overhead voice said that classes were cancelled for student safety. “Wonder what happened,” you said as he hummed. “Maybe ghostface is on the loose again,” he said as you nodded, “scary…” you mumbled, putting your things away and picking up your backpack. Just then Billy’s phone dinged, he looked down at his phone and chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah, there’s a party at Stu’s tonight.” “Macher really does have great timing, truly,” you said as he smirked. “Hey, how about you come with me? I’ll pick you up before it starts,” he suggested as you paused, “what about Sidney?” You asked him as he sighed and shrugged, “she accused me as the killer last night, I think I would say we’re pretty much done.” He said as you shrugged. “Um, I don’t know, Billy…” “Come on, if not as my date then as my friend, yeah?” You saw his eyes piercing into yours, a shiver of excitement going down your spine as you nodded and agreed, receiving a big grin from him.

Billy was running a little late, putting gas is what he had texted you. You were waiting on your porch, pacing back and forth slightly as you waited for him. You looked up when you saw headlights in the dark heading towards your driveway, smiling when he honked at you to get in. “About time, take that long to pump gas?” You teased him, smiling when you saw the ends of his lips upturned slightly. “Didn’t know I had to make a good impression, this isn’t a date, remember?” He said as you rolled your eyes. “And we’re an hour late, you owe me alcohol if Stu is all out,” you hummed, “it’s stu, if he’s out just blow him and more will magically pop up,” he joked, the two of you laughing as he drove off.

By the time you made it to the Macher residence, you noticed not as many people. That didn’t bother you really, you just enjoyed the promise of free alcohol and making out with someone by the end of the night. You two hopped out of the car, heading to the door before seeing Sidney about to walk out. Both of your expressions were the same, confused and a little angered to see the other. Billy and Stu looked at you two before at each other, Stu grasping his hands together as he cleared his throat. “Well look what we have here,” he said as Sidney looked to him. “Did you invite Billy?” Stu stayed silent for a moment, pressing his lips together and sucking them in slightly before letting out a chuckle, “I thought it would be nice for you two to uh…reconcile, you know.” He said as you pushed past them, walking to the kitchen where you saw a few others chugging alcohol and hanging out together. You couldn’t hear much over the loud speakers Stu had set up throughout the house, different songs blasting from his playlist. You poured yourself a drink, heading out to explore what was going on around the house.

Not much caught your eye, just people competing in drinking games, others just hanging out with friends or dancing with their dates of the night. You made yourself comfortable, leaning against one of the walls in the living room, getting a small look at the doorway and seeing Billy and Sidney talking, Stu closing the door as the two talked together. Both of you watched them, surprised when Sidney had moved away and slapped Billy, moving away from him to call out again for Tatum so they could leave.

You were a bit happy to see Billy hurt, but a large part of you was also sad and angered by it. You didn’t enjoy seeing him hurt physically, but it made you a bit more comforted knowing he felt a tiny bit of the pain you were hiding. Stu was quick to try and calm down Sidney, putting his arm around her shoulder as they talked.

You and Billy made eye contact from across the room, he gave a dejected smile and a shrug, heading your way. “Did you know telling a girl that you don’t appreciate being called a killer and assuming that breaks you guys up is not a good idea?” He asked as you laughed, “I could have guessed,” you hummed, sipping on your drink before offering him the cup. “Promise it’s not laced or anything, not yet at least,” you said jokingly as he drank. “I would prefer if it was,” he said as he handed it back to you. “How about we get a refill and head upstairs? We can steal some of Stu’s cds and dvds, hopefully not his porn collection,” he said, making you laugh once again. “Hey, who knows, Stu might have good taste in porn,” you said with a wide smile as the two of you headed out to the kitchen.

[gravedigginbbydoll]

Hawkins University : The Munson Edition

AN: Hey, y'all. I've finally moved! So, I'm working on writing right now. I'm so sorry for the long wait; I've been juggling a lot. I hope you like this chapter; we'll get into more drama and romance in the next chapters! Pls remember that reblogs and comments are appreciated! Also feedback!

→ cliches: friends to lovers, heavy use of nicknames instead of Y/N, we're all just struggling college kids, Music Tutor! Eddie, Resident Assistant! Reader, good girl x bad boy, instant connections, 'I don't trust most people but I trust you', 'are we friends or more?', and 'I can't believe you're such a slut that you have a special dtf drawer...'

→ warnings: mature topics, insecurity, hurt and comfort, drinking and drug usage, strong language, bullying, mental health, discussion of suicide and self harm, mature thoughts, eventual smut, minors dni

→ pairing: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

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Chapter 8

Bug's POV

It had been two weeks since you and Eddie kissed. Though you both had talked about liking one another, neither of you breached the topic of your relationship. And to be honest, it hadn’t bothered you. You got to enjoy the typical activities with Eddie, plus the bonus of kissing or cuddling. You weren’t worried about labels or anything. Plus it meant you didn’t have to feel so guilty about not going on dates or dressing up. Only something more had developed…

You had begun to have a dilemma of jealousy and embarrassment. 

It began that fateful on the November night that was fading into December, finals approaching viciously. You had overheard from a few classmates that Eddie denied their advances, all of them bitter about the situation. You knew why, but couldn’t help but feel worried. You weren’t a virgin by any means, but you also weren’t nearly as experienced as Eddie. And maybe that sparked something in you. 

You were somehow both relieved and frustrated that Eddie hadn’t tried anything with you yet, curious as to how he would be with you. Some stories…made you sit at the edge of your seat, a gasp in your throat. 

He couldn’t help his reputation, really. 

You knew Eddie would make dirty jokes about enjoying choking with Gareth and even fake moans around Steve to make him disgusted. But he never did that with you. He was always sincere and kind. Tamed? In a way. But some tiny little piece of you, something depraved and lonely, wondered why. 

So you decided to test the waters. 

It started out small, of course. Something like a stupid ‘that’s what she said’ joke.

A few days later it snowballed to a joke revolving around your taste in jewelry and saying “Truthfully, I prefer my necklaces to be more...tight. Like a hand.” 

It was laughable, really. Embarrassing. 

But the straw that officially broke the camel's back?

A joke about Eddie's drawer. 

Eddie and you had been messing around, kissing sometimes and giggling, discussing past embarrassing moments. And that’s when you heard the story of how some guy ran out of Steve and Eddie’s shared apartment when he saw the ‘drawer’. You had rolled your eyes, laughing a bit and teasing Eddie gently. 

“I mean it is a bit slutty of you,” You giggled, curled into Eddie’s side. 

Eddie tickled your side gently, grinning softly, “Hey! We do not slut shame in this house. It’s rude,” He teased, nose scrunched up in the cutest way possible. Your heart skipped a beat. 

You smiled a devious grin and shrugged, standing up. “I wasn’t slut shaming…just…word gets around.” Your stomach was twisting and turning with nerves, your heart pumping. You were pushing it a bit, but wanted to test the waters. 

Eddie raised a brow at you, fighting a smile on his lips, eyes dark and twinkling with mischief. “Oh, does it, now? And what exactly…went around…?” 

You walked around, avoiding his gaze as you stared at the Warhammer minis on his shelf, a delicate finger careful to not touch them. “Oh…ya know…things like…how you’re really good at eating out. Or how you like ropes…and maybe…how you love power dynamics…how you…seem to really love getting people off.” With every phrase falling from your lips you felt more and more giddy and nervous, your heart thumping out of your chest. Your thighs squeezed together to rid the ache between your legs as you pretended to be more interested in his decor. You came to his band posters, some local, some big names. You stared at the art work and tried to avoid the intense feeling of Eddie’s gaze on you. 

“Oh…I see. And how much did you believe of it?,” His voice seemed low and almost like a whisper, but the guttural tones and bass of his vocals made a shiver run down your spine. You tried to hold your ground, walking towards his desk, playing with a fidget cube he kept on his desk for concentration. Your back was still to him. 

“Mmm…not much. I heard a lot of what seemed like exaggeration about how many times you made people…finish.” You breathed out, trying to ignore the trembling in your hands and the feeling of breathlessness consuming you. 

Eddie chuckled darkly and seemed to shuffle about, finally stepping closer to you and tracing delicate fingers up your side. “Do you want to find out if it’s true?” His breath was in your ear, making your skin feel hot and your stomach twist in knots. 

You shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant and looking off towards a Metallica poster, chewing on your lip. “I mean, if you want to prove yourself…fine. But there's no way you can make anyone cum that much, no matter how slutty you-”

You found yourself spun around quickly as a pair of strong and calloused hands intertwined into your hair and pulled you in at your waist, his mouth immediately upon yours as he shut you up with the most passionate and panty dropping kiss you had ever experienced. Your eyes fluttered shut as his lips encased yours, fireworks going off in your belly. He rubbed his hand at your side, slipping under your shirt to have his cool hand touch your warming skin. He continued to tug at your hair, eliciting little moans from you and making wetness pool in your underwear, your body alight with desire. 

You felt desperate and pathetic, but in the best way. So often you were the caring and overbearing friend, the one who was always the designated driver, the one who worked a thankless job and tried to push others along to succeed. But here, with Eddie, you often felt free to let loose. Free to think less about others and more about yourself. And it seemed that translated into the bedroom too. 

Eddie was leaving your mouth to kiss down your neck, nipping and biting softly, causing you to whimper and claw at his back. He steered you toward what felt like the bed, dropping you onto your back before looming over you. His eyes were dark and his lips pink and swollen from the kissing. His arms were braced on either side of your head as his hair made a curtain around you, your heart beating at the sight of his expression. It was like he was hungry and desperate. 

“You’re so gorgeous…I’m gonna make you see fucking stars,” He growled out, making your body shiver in delight. 

He lifted your shirt off your frame, throwing it to the side as he cupped your breasts, eyes looking at you for reassurance. You nodded, biting your lip. He grinned devilishly, coming in to leaving bruising kisses and bites at your neck, his nimble fingers pinching and playing with your nipples, the desire pooling between your thighs as you squirmed under him. 

“Such a pretty girl…so responsive…,” He groaned out, grinding his hardness into you for a minute while you moaned, before moving down and taking a nipple in his mouth, first giving it teasing licks before he latched on and began sucking and nipping at the bud, making you whine and grip the bedding underneath you, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. You felt like you were on cloud 9. Your thoughts consumed by the goofy metalheads mouth and tongue, pleasure ever growing. You practically lost it when one of his hands traveled south while the other continued playing with your nipple that wasn’t between his teeth, hovering above your mound. 

“Can I touch you, baby? Can I play with your clit?,” He growled out around your nipple, your back arching at his words as you felt your cunt throb. You were mindless. You were putty in his hands. 

“Yes, god please…yes…” 

At that his hands went under your panties, finger quickly finding your sensitive spot and circling it gently. You were squirming, back arching, as his lip popped off your breast obscenely and moved to the other, and his fingers moved to tug at your nipple and keep it hard. At this point you swore you were going to combust. Eddie just kept whispering praise and growling around you, calling you his ‘plaything’ and his ‘girl’. Your back arching as you felt the familiar build, your cunt clenching around nothing as you whimpered, eyes screwed shut. 

“Fu-fuck…’M gonna cum…gonna cum…please please please, Eds,” You clawed at his back, releasing a moan from him as he moved to kiss you, still rubbing at your clit, this time with a bit more ferocity. You felt the pleasure between your legs build and build as you moaned into his mouth, finally snapping as he lightly smacked your clit, growling into your mouth. You saw white, your eyes rolling back as your body shook, gasps and moans escaping your mouth. You laid there, boneless for a moment, eyes shut as you caught your breath. 

Eddie collapsed beside you, sighing out. Your eyes fluttered open to look at him, still trying to catch your breath. 

“I guess…rumors hold…a bit of truth,” You panted, smiling weakly as Eddie chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“That was just a preview…catch your breath because I’m not letting you leave this bed until I’ve had my fill with you,” He whispered, smiling devilishly as he kissed your forehead and your eyes went wide. 

Eddie Munson would be the death of you. 

Once you’d had Eddie’s touch, his kiss…You were insatiable. 

Any moment you had free, you were in his grip. You experienced the ropes, the toys, everything. You now knew exactly what had all the people at Hawkins so hooked onto Eddie, his mere touch making you see stars. You had yet to actually have full penetrative sex, but it was satisfying exploring the space between. 

You hadn’t questioned your relationship, okay with not labeling it for the time. Though it seemed to really bother Steve. 

‘So, you guys finally a thing?’ 

‘He finally popped the lil question?’ 

‘Finally… or am I just hopeful again?’  

The last time he had asked, you were wearing Eddie’s shirt and boxers, cooking breakfast. You shook your head with a smile, laughing at Steve’s groan of frustration after Eddie walked out with a messy bedhead, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. 

Everything was simple and fun. 

And sure, a small part of you hoped soon Eddie would call you his. You knew you were exclusive, and that was great. But some days you had dreamed of hearing the words ‘my girl’ fall from his lips.

But you would settle with the little piece of heaven you were gifted. 

You could always sense a storm before it came. Not a literal storm, but an unfortunate event. Of course it could be argued that your anxiety led you to always sensing a storm, even if one wasn’t oncoming. But you knew the familiar feeling, your belly churning, your heart squeezed, and your head pained by pressure and nerves alike. 

It all started after the afternoon you and Eddie had been cuddling and watching trashy TV, giggling over stupid circumstances. Eddie turned over and looked at you. 

“This may sound weird but…would you be okay if I used you for a song?” 

Your heart skipped a beat, your breath caught in your throat. 

“Uh, sure…That’s okay,” you replied meekly, heart leaping at the thought of your closest friend and romantic interest with benefits writing something about you. For you. 

He smiled at you, those ice melting dimples causing your mind to turn to goo. You smiled back shyly, snuggling back into the crook of his arm. 

Then your phone buzzed, causing your brow to furrow. 

You looked down at the screen in your hand, seeing a notification from Instagram.

@ChrissytheCutie has followed you!

You felt a sense of confusion and sourness build. You didn’t know the account, but decided to brush it off. You didn’t post much anyways and you knew a bunch of people would just follow you after seeing you went to Hawkins. 

And boy…

Was that a mistake. 

Taglist: @josephquinnsfreckles @corrodedcoffincumslut @kirisuteg0men @bebe07011 @amira0303 @vintagehellfire @lottie-90 @animechick555

[sevsdollette]

Not So Sweet [Sevika x fem reader]

ao3 link: Not So Sweet - sevsdoll - Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021) [Archive of Our Own]

content warning: …SMUT (mdni. get out). drinking, smoking cigars. sex worker reader. face sitting (cunnilingus). fingering. brat taming (reader loves to bite back). dom!sevika. no use of y/n

summary: you’re one of Babette’s best girls, and you’re just taking a night off when you intrigue the most dangerous woman in Zaun. She just can’t ignore you, and soon the night becomes a lot more interesting than you planned.

chapters:

1. Relaxing Night

note: WC: 5.1k (@-@ i know). this is a series. i’m already working on chapter two. look i know the show came out two years ago, but someone’s gotta keep writing for her. she really just makes me foam at the mouth. i love her so much. I don't write very often so sorry if this sucks. this series will have the golden trio: smut, fluff, and angst. smut hopefully in every chapter.

—————(18+)—————

After a long day-shift, you wanted a drink.

The customers at Babette's weren’t so entertaining or pleasant when the sun was still up. What normal person (as normal as someone in Zaun could be) went to a hooker during the day? They were all perverted, or it was the only time of the day they could sneak away from their real “love” to see you.

Overall, not a fun time. You had a particularly nasty customer come through, and while after a normal day, you’d go right into working the night, you thought you deserved a treat.

You show up to the Last Drop, a frequent bar of yours, and plan to have a relaxing night with a cold drink.

You get in quicker than other patrons. While Babette didn’t like Silco, she played along enough and that got you some perks. She gave little tokens to her favorite employees and that earned you some privileges at the right times.

The bouncer opened the door, waving you in, and you were hit with the blasting music that usually infected the bar on a Friday night. Even when it was only eight.

The bass of the music almost made you nauseous, but you pushed it away, telling yourself you were going to have a good night for once. No brothel, no weirdos, and no sex.

You were sick of sex. It was getting quite boring. Even those customers who claimed to be expirimentive or interesting were not. It was the same thing over and over again.

Okay, but you were going to stop thinking about work now.

Since it was early in the night, you were able to get your own booth. Usually, that would be impossible, and you were sure that some group might come along to kick you out of it at some point. But, for the time being, it was your personal wrap-around booth. The stained leather cushions were like heaven. The table was cracked and carved into, but it was solid wood.

You felt good. You were dressed nicely: a tight and dark dress that complimented your complexion, and your hair was done up to reveal your neck and the long costume earrings you swiped once upon a time in Piltover. You showered a lot more often than the people you worked with, so at least you smelled good too.

The back booths were usually taken care of better than the crowded tables near the front. After a few minutes of you sitting down, a barkeep came over to ask if you wanted anything to drink. You ordered and then sat back and enjoyed the atmosphere.

No where in the Undercity was pleasant, but you began to enjoy your time. Your drink came back and you slowly sipped on it as you watched the bar fill with people. You put your feet up on the booth as well, lounging like you owned the place.

It didn’t matter that you didn’t, either. Silco and his whole crew didn’t scare you much. You’d seen worse than the whole crowd. All the immature prostitutes at Babettes would quiver and hide when Sevika, Silco’s number two, came by or when any other of her goons poked around. They didn’t instill the same reaction in you. Sure, they were strong, intimidating and ruthless, but you’d had worse done to you than have your face beaten.

You’d never personally served Sevika or her crew, but you knew people who did.

Speaking of the devil, the group just strolled in. It was around ten pm when Sevika and four others came into the bar and got their usual booth across the room from your own. The chaos of the dancing, drinking, and smoking crowd parted for them quickly, but paid them no mind, and they went about their usual business.

As you watched them sit down and order a drink, your eyes caught the shallow ones of Sevika. It was only for a quick glance before she looked down to shuffle cards, but she seemed to look longer than one would normally when accidentally meeting a stranger's eye.

You didn’t know what the hell her problem was. As much as you weren’t afraid of her, you sure as hell didn’t want to deal with her. All you wanted was a calm night, and whatever issue she had with you surely wouldn’t help.

You’d been jumped a couple of times. They were when you were younger and more naive, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen again. All those times, you had to stumble back to Babette with a bloody lip and bruised ribs for her to wrap up. You had no one else to take care of you.

For the next two hours or so, you kept your eyes to your own. Or, at least you tried to.

After that first look, she couldn’t take her eyes off of you. Her steel gray gaze kept your form across the room as the club lit up with action. The loud music and crowd of dancers frequently broke her stare, but once there was a break in the mob, you’d catch her looking at you again.

The idea of her made you nervous. The way she stared made you feel weak—like she was a predator about to pounce. There was no way she’d hurt you in the bar, right?

Something about the look in her eyes made you feel something other than nervous. It was entrancing the way her lips curled into a smirk at a winning hand. Her banter with her men made her seem warmer—nicer. You couldn’t help but drag your eyes across her broad shoulder, reveling in the way the muscles in her forearms moved as she shuffled cards.

You tried to ignore her and her rough eyes as you watched the lively crowd. After two drinks, almost every sight was amusing, and you were feeling quite relaxed. The alcohol helped your nerves.

At some point, you got up and went to the bathroom. While fighting your way through the crowd, you didn’t even see Sevika put down her cards to follow after you.

The bathrooms were small, which was quite inadequate for the business of the bar, but it made it less common for people to be in there. It was empty when you went in, and you went into one of the stalls to relieve yourself.

The door opened not long after you came in, and when you were stepping out of the stall, you froze.

Sevika stared at you, still standing by the door. You couldn’t get out. Suddenly, the bathroom felt even smaller than it already was.

You decided not to poke the bear. Anxiety rushed over you as panic threatened to set in. But you wouldn’t let her know it. Reputation was all about strength around here. Any weakness would’ve your downfall.

You went into denial. Maybe you were wrong about her staring. Maybe this was all just a coincidence. She just so happened to catch your eye and it was just your luck that she came into the bathroom at the same time as you.

You washed your hands, keeping your eyes down at the sink as you heard her steps. They got closer and closer until she stood behind you, just far enough away that she wasn’t touching you. You stood up straight, looking at her through the mirror.

“Can I help you?” You tensed your brow, eyes stuck to the ones that had been watching you all night. This close, and in the dim light of the bathroom, you could’ve sworn they had hints of blue in them.

“What’s your name?” She asked. She reached out, touching your shoulder lightly as she leaned forward. She towered over you.

“None of your business,” you said. You could feel the heat of her body against your back, and she couldn’t stop exploring you with her hands.

It seemed she didn’t really care what your name was. Perhaps she only asked as a formality. Maybe some women found it rude when she didn’t ask, but you didn’t care.

“Are you just going to eye-fuck me all night,” she muttered. “Or do you want to do something about it?”

She ran her thumbs along the creases of your dress. feeling the bottom edge of your bra through the fabric as she did so.

“You’re the one who can’t stop staring,” you said, turning your head to look up into her eyes. “If I were a betting woman I’d say you have a small crush.”

She scoffed. “Don’t think of yourself so highly.”

You smirked. She just wanted to fuck. She’d been around the brothel enough time for you to know that, and the idea of her had always been an intriguing one whenever she came around. You’d never dealt with her, but you’d heard the stories.

Her fingers dragged down your hips, tugging at the edge of your dress before slipping under. It was just enough so she could feel the skin of your inner thigh. The light grazing of her skin against yours made you feel fuzzy, and you leaned back into her slightly.

She hummed, leaning into your neck and kissing under your jaw. Her lips pressed just under your ear as she asked, “Want to come to the back room with me? I'll make it worth your while.”

“Are you gonna pay me?” You jested. Of course, you didn't need her to, but teasing her just felt so right. You’d never even spoken to her before, but the banter was too delicious to ignore.

“I think you’re the one who’s gonna have to pay me,” she whispered, her hands now massaging your thighs as she tried to draw you towards the door. “Come on, baby, I need to get this dress off of you.”

You groaned, pushing her hands off of you. “So needy,” you teased. “Go and wait for me and maybe I'll show up.”

She stared down at you. The two of you were close; you could practically feel her breath against your face. In her eyes was anger at your attitude, but you could tell she was amused. Normally, the women she picked didn’t fight her: they crumbled and begged for attention.

Her hand came up and gripped your jaw. She moved forward, pressing you against the countertop as her lips met yours harshly. The wind was knocked out of your lungs as she kept you pinned, kissing you enough to make you dizzy.

She gripped your hip with her metal hand, the tips of her sharp fingers pressing into the fat of your ass just enough for it to sting. You whimpered against her lips, hands jerking as they didn’t know whether to push her away or pull her closer.

“Oh, you’ll show up,” she growled. And then, as quickly as she had come, she pulled away. The cold air where she once was made you feel funny as you watched her walk out of the room.

The bathroom was silent. You stood there, palms pressed against the counter, shaking. Outside, the bass of the music pushed through the walls and shook the floor. It felt chilly all of a sudden, and you realized it was because she was gone. She was so hot pressed up against you, and you were worried you’d freeze without her.

Screw the whole “sick of sex” thing. You were going to fuck the hottest, most dangerous woman in Zaun.

In your frozen state, another woman came into the bathroom and gave you a strange look as she saw you standing there. You hardly met her eyes as you walked past her, shuffling quickly out of the room.

The chaos of the main room hit you hard when you came out. The flashing lights and blaring music were a sharp contrast to the dim and quiet bathroom. Across the room you saw Sevika standing by her table, settling her bets with her fellow players quickly.

You made your way up to the bar to close your tab. You doubted you would want anything else. The bar was crowded and it took a moment for you to shove yourself to the front with your money.

You reached out your coins to the bartender.

“Thieram, put her drinks on my tab.”

The bartender looked past you and nodded at Sevika. He pushed your hand back and quickly walked away to serve another customer.

You turned to say something to Sevika, but she was already walking towards the back room. You took the moment to watch her walk away, your eyes grazing over her body.

Her back was wide and thick with muscle. Every part of her was woven together with strength, and the glow of the neon lights made every ridge seem deeper.

Your body began to get just as excited as your mind was.

When you walked into the back room, she was sitting on the sofa. This room was a small lounge with two couches and a couple of chairs surrounding a coffee table. There was a small side table with a lamp, and a large bay window on the back wall with the curtains tightly shut.

The lamp was on and it gave off a full glow that illuminated the room just enough that you could see her shadowed brow turn up to look at you.

It seemed like a place she came to often. She had her maroon cover dropped on one of the armchairs, and there was a pack of cigars on the coffee table with a lighter. It was a little messy, but you assumed it was a busy room.

“Thanks for the drinks,” you said, sounding unimpressed.

“They’re free for me.”

“Yeah, I thought so.”

You sighed loudly, stepping forward into the room more. Once again, her eyes stuck to you like glue.

She leaned back. “Are you gonna get over here or are you gonna make me chase you?”

That could be fun. But, no, you weren’t in a state to run at the moment. You smiled, almost mockingly at her, and strolled over.

You stood in front of her as she stayed seated, looking up at you. Taking her face roughly in one hand, you dug your nails into her cheek slightly. She looked up at you with tense eyes, studying the way you glared down at her. Your thumb brushed over her bottom lip and she nipped forward, trying to bite you.

You jerked your hand back. “Watch it!”

She chuckled, reaching out to hold you by your hips. She steadied you, keeping you as close as you could without pulling you into her lap. “You seem like someone who doesn’t give two shits about me,” she said. “I like that.”

You lifted your brow. “Don’t like attachment?”

“Fucking hate it.”

She pushed your dress up, the bottom now pooling above your hips, making your thin lace underwear fully visible for her to touch and rip off.

“Good. I’m a whore, all I ever have to deal with is attachment.” Her hands were now rubbing down the backs of your thighs. The ghosting of her fingertips over the edge of your underwear sent a shiver up your spine. “It’s always: ‘Oh, I love you’ and ‘oh, baby please come home with me’—drives me nuts.”

She smiled up at you. “I’ll never love you.”

“Thank god,” you breathed, lost in the sight of her so close to you. Her eyes stuck to your lips and her brow creased in focus. She pulled you in, trapping you in a kiss. Her hands pressed against the small of your back, pushing you down to straddle one of her thighs.

A sigh slipped from your lips as she pushed her leg up just slightly. It fit perfectly and her hard muscle did well to please the ache that was just starting to grow between your legs.

Her lips were soft yet demanding, holding you there as she devoured you. It was hard to breathe between her hungry kisses. It was intoxicating in all the best ways. Her tongue brushed against yours and soon you were tasting each other, drawn in and never letting go.

Your hands brushed through her hair, tugging out her hair tie and tossing it behind you onto the coffee table. She grunted, pulling you even harder against her and grinding your hips against your leg.

She kissed across your cheek and down your neck. She was harsh. She ran her teeth along your skin and bit down hard enough for you to whine. You gripped her shoulders and pressed your clothes clit harder against her leg, trying to find satisfaction.

You knew she was going to leave marks. Something about that thought made you crazy. You were not supposed to belong to anyone, but you wanted people to know she fucked you—that she wanted you.

Her tongue ran over a fresh hickey as she leaned back up and kissed you again. She exhaled heavily out her nose, settling into the kiss.

You clutched her face gently in both hands, cradling her head as she slid her tongue into your mouth. You could feel heat looking in your stomach. Surely your underwear was ruined by now. She might’ve even had a wet spot on her thigh.

Everything felt so disorienting. It was like she was her own drug, pulling you in and locking away the rest of the world. You couldn’t hear any outside of the room, and nothing matter but how her chest felt pressed against yours.

“Lie down,” you whispered, running your fingers through her hair.

She wasn’t the type to listen to others, but something in the way you coaxed your voice made her comply. She was much too large for the small couch so her legs hung off the other end, but you made sure her head was nice and comfortable on a small throw pillow.

She propped herself up on her elbows, smirking at you as you stepped off the couch and pulled your panties off. “You just think you have all the power, don't you?”

You cocked your head to the side. “Do I not?”

“Hm.” She wasn’t amused. You crawled on top of her, your thighs on either side of her head as you sat on her collar. You brushed the stray hairs off her forehead.

“I’ll put you in your place, baby girl, don’t worry,” she assured. “But I might as well let you have a little fun first.”

“That’s sweet,” you teased. “I’m almost intimidated. But, really, anyone who gets underneath me always ends up being my bitch.”

She rolled her eyes. “Just fucking sit on my face already.”

“Say please?”

She ignored you, dragging your hips up and grinding your core against her face. Your breath caught in your throat at the sudden movement, hands flying to her hair to steady yourself as her tongue parted you.

You pressed your lips together. “Oh, fuck, Sev…” you moaned, head falling back as she lapped at your folds like you were the last thing on earth. Her mouth was hot against your cunt and she was sending shockwaves through your body.

She pressed all your weight against her face and everything she was doing made you relax against her. Part of you cared if she could breathe but most of you didn’t. Your mind was only focused on how she circled your entrance with her tongue.

You dug your nails into her scalp, tugging as she moved up to flick your clit with her tongue. The pleasure had you tugging at her hair. She moaned into your folds, the vibrations eliciting another wave of ecstasy.

She gripped the backs of your thighs, keeping you steady as your strength wavered. As you unwound, she continued to undulate your cunt against her.

Everything she did drew you closer and closer to your peak. It was a constant assault as she dragged her tongue though you with a sharp tip before pulling your clit into her mouth to suck.

“God, that feels so good,” you moaned, grinding harder on her nose as her tongue fucked into you. “Don’t stop.”

With the tone of your voice, she could tell you were close. Her hands came from behind to cup your ass and squeeze it harshly, making you moan again before her finger came closer. She circled your entrance with them, coating each with your slick before easily slipping one thick finger in.

“Two,” you demanded, breathless.

She pushed a second one in and you almost regretted it. It was a tight squeeze as she pumped her finger deep inside, still working on your clit with her mouth. She was ruthless with her speed, and soon you were helpless. You rode her finger and face breathlessly until your orgasm hit with a wave of pleasure.

You cursed loudly, moaning as she helped you down from your peak. It seemed to go one forever, pulsing with your fast heart rate. She kept her finger deep inside you as she pushed you off her face.

“Sev…” you muttered, wiping her chin with your thumb. You realized you had no words. She curled her fingers inside of you. “Fuck,” you whined

She flipped the two of you over, pushing your hips down into the couch as she went harder.

“Wait,” you whined. The overwhelming sensation from your last orgasm was too much to bear. So much that she was leading you right to another one. You couldn't take it. “Sevika,” you cried.

She shushed you, demanding, “Take it.” She was peppering kisses down your neck and over your chest. Your low-cut dress was becoming more and more disheveled, and she could nearly kiss your nipple.

Just her presence was arousing. She was almost animalistic the way she hovered over you, so much bigger than you. She shadowed you in the dim room, gazing down at you like you were her prey. You couldn’t get out even if you tried.

Her hard metal arm that pinned you down radiated a sharp heat that reminded you she could kill you if she really wanted to. And that shimmer in her vials could turn her into a monster with no mercy.

You bit your lip, your head pressing back against the couch as you felt your finish coming. You couldn’t believe how good she was. The people you fucked for you job hardly ever really got you turned on. She made your head spin.

And she was so attentive. Every second she was digging her teeth into your collar or running her mouth along your breast. Her hot breath against you skin had you writhing under her, mumbling curses and urging her to never stop.

Her fingers pumped inside, curling with every thrust to hit your sweet spot. The heel of her palm rubbed against your clit as she abused your velvet wall, rutting against it when she would pull out and shove back in.

“I’m gonna cum, Sev,” you cried. “I’m so close.”

She hummed into your skin, quickening her cruel pace to a point that made your legs tense and your hands run down her back, pressing crescents into her skin.

Your peak was coming closer and closer. You could feel it rising in you with every passing second of pleasure. The ribbed rubbing of her fingers in your cunt overwhelmed every sense until she stopped.

She stopped moving.

“What the fuck—“

“You were real cocky coming in here,” she growled into your ear. Her voice was almost gritty. “You need to know that’s not okay.”

You squirmed under her, just trying to get her to move or maybe be able to ride her fingers. “Sevika, just let me—“

She held you very still. “In this room, you’re mine. You do whatever the fuck I tell you to, and you ask nicely for things.” Her still fingers were driving you insane. The full sensation of hay being full but not stimulated made you push against her shoulder, urging her to do something.

She lifted her head to look at your pleading face. “Outside of here you might belong to anyone with enough money in their pocket, but right now you belong to me. I chose when you cum, do you understand?”

You glared up at her, irritation alight in your eyes as you thrashed and tried to get her to move. You couldn’t speak, only fighting to move to reach your finish.

“I didn’t expect you to be such a fucking brat, baby.” She pushed a third finger inside slowly. The stretch was painful as you cried out, your nails digging into her back. She still wouldn’t fucking move. “But that’s okay,” she assured. “I’ll teach you a lesson. I’ll make you my good girl.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you sunk further into the cushion. “Sevika—“

She smacked your clit harshly. “Say please.”

You squirmed again, the pain pulsing through your core. You pressed your lips together, trying not to give her the satisfaction.

Her brow creased and she frowned down at you. Disappointed pooled in her gaze and it made you feel awful. She slid her fingers out of you, shrugging and moving to get up.

You holt forward, hands wrapping around her thick forearm to pull her back to you. “No—fuck—please, Sev, please.” Your wide, pleading eyes helped lure her back. “Please. I need it. I need it so fucking badly.”

She sighed, pulling you close to her again by your hips, cradling them against her own as she pushed you back down into the couch. She kissed you once, gently. “What do you need, baby?”

All attitude was thrown out the window. All you could do was obey. “To cum—please, just let me—“

She forced her fingers back inside of you, having you crying out at the sudden stretch. She pushed your legs open, spreading them widen so she could fuck you deeper.

The room echoed with your cries. The sudden intrusion made the stretch so intense it was painful. The feeling mixed with the incessant pleasure drove your mind to an unreachable place. You were a babbling mess underneath her, mumbling pleas and begging for her to never stop. You were rendered senseless.

“Please…please, I’m so close.”

She rubbed her thumb over your clit and bit on the pulse point of your neck, the sharp sensation pushing you over the edge

Your vision went white as hot, immeasurable pleasure shot through your core. Your legs squeezed around her as she slowed her lace to a gentle rolling of her fingers to guide you through your orgasm.

The way she held you made all your bitching seem so senseless. She was ruthless but caring, attending to every need as she brought you down from your high. It felt as if you couldn’t move, lying limp underneath her as she took care of you.

“Good job.” She kissed your cheek. “I knew you could behave.”

All you could muster up was a whine as you pawed at her face, pushing her up so you could pull her in for a kiss. She settled into your lips, helping you relax as your heartbeat still pounded against your chest. Her hands gripped your thighs, your juices sticking to your hot skin.

She pulled back. “Careful, you don’t want to make me start again.”

You shook your head frantically, mouth still so dry yet searching for words but you couldn’t find any. So fucked out, all you could do was lie there and stare at her.

Your eyes were glassy and she smiled slightly at the state she left you in. “You okay, doll?”

You nodded.

“Okay,” she chuckled, sitting up. “I’d hate to scare you off too quickly.”

You made some helpless noise, clawing after her as you tried to push yourself up. It felt like you could hardly move your legs, and your hands felt numb.

She helped you sit up, pulling you across her lap to rest your head against her shoulder. “Though you seem quite comfortable.”

You giggled. “Just tired.”

She hummed, reaching around you to find a cigar on the coffee table. You watched her hold it in her lips as she leaned forward again to grab the lighter.

You just liked to watch her. She moved comfortably in herself, relaxing back on the couch as she puffed on the cigar. She made rings with the smoke, showing off to impress you, maybe.

She let you take a puff, but it wasn’t exactly for your taste. Instead, you just relaxed against her, listening to the slight boom of the bass through the walls. You couldn’t even remember hearing it until now.

Minutes passed, maybe even a half an hour as the two of you relaxed. You could feel your eyes drooping the longer you sat against her warmth.

“It’s late,” she observed. “Do you need me to walk you home?”

“So chivalrous,” you murmured, fixing the neckline and straps of your dress. You sat up straight, blinking slowly to meet her eyes. “I think I’ll be okay. Babette’s is just down the street.”

A crease formed in her brow. “You live there?”

You shrugged. “Yeah.” Your eyes fell to the floor. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Hm,” she hummed, adjusting the hem of your skirt so it was fully over your ass. Her limited reaction made you slightly nervous, but it was better than her overreacting. “I’m going to walk you home.”

She patted your hip, urging you to get up. Begrudgingly, you slid off her lap and to your feet. You stumbled, partially from the alcohol still in your system, but also from the ache in your legs.

Sevika held you against her, smiling. “Easy, baby.”

“Shut up.”

“Attitude's back already?” She teased, “I should’ve been meaner.”

You grumbled, waving your hand aimlessly to get her to stop talking. Hell, you would’ve loved if she fucked you with no restraint, but you couldn’t take any more. You worked all day, and she just knocked the wind out of you for so long.

She guided you towards the door, helping you walk as the two of you pushed through the front room. It was past midnight for sure, and the crowd had lessened, but those who were left were wasted and uncontrollable. You noticed how she held you away from everyone who seemed too intoxicated.

It was about then when you realized your underwear was still on the floor of the back room, but you didn’t give a shit. Maybe she’d keep it as a souvenir. You surely had the bruises on your neck to remind you of her for days.

God, you wished every night ended like this.

[eiightysixbaby]

silver springs: part one

You Make Loving Fun

i never did believe in miracles, but i’ve a feeling it’s time to try

word count: 7.7k

pairing: rockstar!eddie x rockstar!fem!reader

summary: you and your boyfriend eddie’s band gets the offer of a lifetime, sending you on a spiral into international fame. this is everything the five of you have ever wanted - producing an album, going on tour. what could go wrong?

cw: 18+ ONLY. this chapter does contain SMUT - although brief, there are depictions of unprotected sex. i try to keep use of y/n to a minimum - reader’s nickname is dove/dovey and this will be used frequently throughout the fic. drug and alcohol mentions, reader and the band drink & get high, and i think that’s it, really. the rest of this chapter is pretty tame!

authors note: ah here it is! the first chapter of my 1970s band au! please remember that future chapters of this fic will contain some heavier subject matter (cheating, drug/alcohol abuse, detailed depictions of sex). if this bothers you, DO NOT READ. i’m very happy to finally put chapter one out into the world and i hope you all enjoy! listen to the series playlist here!

May 17th, 1972. Hawkins, Indiana

You and your bandmates sit sprawled across the furniture in Steve’s living room, bouncing around song ideas. Warm spring air wafts in through an open window, birdsong lilting softly in the trees outside. A clock ticks methodically from the wall by the front door. Robin dangles upside down off of a chair, taking a puff of a cigarette, her hair dangling to the floor.

“What?” She catches you staring at her, “I can focus better like this, I’m serious.”

You huff a laugh, writing and rewriting a lyric in your song book, then scratching it out altogether. She softly sings to herself, trying to will the lyrics to come to her.

“Sweet, wonderful youuu….. you are, no- you make… you make me…”

The four of you - you, Steve, Robin, and your drummer Gareth - had been sitting for what felt like hours. Trying, and ultimately failing to get some new songs brewing. Your fellow frontman and boyfriend, Eddie, was off doing god-knows-what. He wouldn’t tell you guys, just said he was gonna be showing up to Steve’s late. Steve mindlessly plucks at his bass, frowning as he starts to get the hang of a riff but then loses it.

The five of you started your band, The Rumors, about a year ago, had humble beginnings in Gareth’s garage - much to his neighbors’ dismay. You would spend hours upon hours toiling away in that garage, writing, rewriting, perfecting your songs. And really, there was a lot of talent there, even from the very beginning. You knew how to lift each other up, encourage one another to be better musicians, and it was a great dynamic to be coming up in. You’d been extremely fortunate in your close-knit hometown, being offered slots to perform at local bars, and word would get out and occasionally you’d travel to bars and clubs on the outskirts of Hawkins. Small crowds, and hardly any of them were paid gigs, but it sure as hell got word around.

As for you and Eddie, the two of you were high school sweethearts, formed a bond over your love of music and the rest was history. Two fools in love, you started writing songs together for fun, Eddie would play his acoustic as you would sing. His uncle Wayne picked up on the talent you two had, always saying things like ‘You kids should start a band or somethin’. Bet you’d make it real far.’ At first the two of you just brushed it off, figured he was just being nice. But after you’d both graduated, and neither of you had a clue what you wanted to do with your lives now, the thought of starting a band lingered, bounced around in your brain until you couldn’t think of anything else. It consumed Eddie’s thoughts as much as it consumed yours. He knew Gareth from middle school, knew he played drums and ended up pitching the idea to him - and he was on board immediately. You knew Steve, who was learning bass at the time, and your mutual friend Nancy was dating Robin, who was wicked good on the keys and had a stellar voice.

Everything fell into place just like that. Your group started practicing together, and became pretty much inseparable. You all really fell into a groove, taking on different roles in the band as you learned each other’s personalities. Robin was quick-witted and smart, always there to listen to your problems or offer advice, and man - she’s a chatterbox. She’s great at songwriting and always brings strong ideas to the table. She’s loyal to her loved ones, and she’s a huge softie when it comes to you guys, and especially Nancy. Steve is basically the mom of the band, yelling at Eddie when he shows up to practice late, giving Robin rides everywhere, keeping you all in line and making sure no one ends up dead on a night at the bars. He tends to come across as very serious - business oriented. All about the music and perfecting his craft. But when you get to know him, he’s a sweetheart. He just wants to make sure everything goes according to plan, is all. Gareth is the comedic relief, a phenomenal drummer, and he knows how to party. He’s kind, always welcoming, and all in all just happy to be here. He’s always willing to let Eddie bounce ideas off him, and you can count on him to give you his genuine opinions. Eddie is the showstopper, truly. He can be a little disorganized and scattered at times but he’s passionate about what he does. A social butterfly, a sweet-talker, excellent at getting his way. He’s also just downright pretty (but you were definitely biased). He’s determined and never lets a setback stop him. The perfect frontman, confident and loud. And as for you, you’re typically the peacekeeper, the sweet one. You have a soft heart, you love fiercely, trust willingly, and are willing to give your all for this band. You’re the other side of Eddie’s coin, and you’re happy to follow him on your shared dream.

You guys were in the process of trying to write an album, trying to get some bigger shows, get an ‘in’ with someone who had connections in the music scene. As frustrating as it could be at times, none of you were willing to give up. Eddie would always talk about how you guys were going to be the biggest rock band in the world someday, like it was a sure thing, and god how you all hoped he was right.

“Seriously, what should come after this line- ‘Sweet wonderful you, you make me…’ you make me what!?” Robin sighs dramatically, sitting upright and putting her cigarette out in the ashtray.

“How about, ‘You make me happy with the things you do’?” you offer, lighting up when Robin’s eyes go wide.

“Yes! That’s it, oh my god. Thank you thank you,” she scribbles it in her notebook, humming the tune to herself.

“That’s going somewhere, Rob. Seriously, don’t give up on that one,” Steve encourages, moving to stand behind her chair and give her shoulders a squeeze.

Just as Robin’s about to throw more lyrics out, the front door swings open, and Eddie comes barreling in. He’s biting on his bottom lip, like he’s trying to hold his smile back from breaking free.

“Eddie… what’s that face? What’re you up to?” Gareth asks, narrowing his eyes at the other man.

“Oh, nothing…. just, y’know, got us a gig at The Corner in Indianapolis, where Scott Pierce may or may not be watching us play,” Eddie’s lips twist into a smirk as he talks.

The Corner was an insanely popular club in the city, plenty of bands playing there, getting their start. Scott Pierce was a huge name in the music industry, well-known manager for many different bands and artists and had as many connections as a small band from Hawkins could possibly ask for. How Eddie had pulled this off, you had no idea.

“What!? Eddie, are you fucking serious, man!?” Steve shouts, shaking Robin as he does, her head bobbling around slightly.

You and Gareth jump out of your seats, badgering Eddie for more context.

“I was just on the phone with someone at Scott’s office - I sent them that demo tape we made of Don’t Stop, they dug it - pulled some strings, got us a gig. He’s gonna attend and if he likes us, which he will of course, we could have a bigger offer in store. We could finally make an album!” Eddie’s beaming, his hands shaking with excitement.

The four of you rush to him, everyone hugging and cheering. Eddie picks you up and spins you around, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

“This is it, baby. This could really be it for us,” he whispers to you, your foreheads pressed together.

You’re grateful Eddie’s holding onto you because your whole body feels like jello, your knees almost weak with excitement.

“Celebratory beer, anyone?” Steve asks, pulling a six-pack from the fridge.

You each take a bottle and cheers to ‘making an album’. Robin scurries off to ring Nancy, practically tripping over her feet on the way to the phone. You and the guys hover around the kitchen counter in content silence, just smiling at each other like idiots. This could really be the start of everything.

Robin enters the room once more after hanging up the phone, sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter and laughing to herself, spinning on the rotating seat.

“I just told Nance the news, oh my god, I hope I didn’t jinx our luck or something. This is like, totally a miracle and I usually don’t believe in miracles but maybe I should start,” Robin rambles nervously, all flailing hands as she talks. “Oh my god, wait! I’m gonna turn that into a line for my song…..” she trails off as she walks to the living room to grab her lyric book.

The rest of the group exchanges knowing glances at each other, because yeah, this certainly was a miracle - and you were going to take a chance on it.

May 24th, 1972. Indianapolis, Indiana.

It’s an unusually hot day for May in Indiana when the band pulls up to The Corner that Friday night, your skin prickling with sweat beneath your crochet top. You open the passenger door to Eddie’s vehicle, a burnt orange VW bus that he saved up for for years, the perfect size for carting around the whole band and your equipment. You step out onto the street, the hustle and bustle of the city whirring around you. Car horns honking, kids whizzing by on bicycles, music playing from somewhere you couldn’t detect. You were taking in the sights, looking up at the sign above the entrance to the club, where your band name sat in big black letters across the white board. Eddie sidled up beside you, snaking an arm around your waist and kissing the top of your head.

“I can’t fucking believe it, Eds. That’s our band listed up there. I just… wow,” you shake your head, laughing giddily as you do.

“Believe it, baby. We’re movin’ up in the world,” he grins at you.

He presses a kiss to your lips before walking around to the back of the van, helping the others unload your gear. The group heads inside and you’re all instantly greeted by the owner of the establishment, a big burly man with a handlebar mustache.

“Ah! You must be The Rumors, am I right?” he asks, grinning widely at the bunch of you.

“Yep, that’s us, pleasure to meet you,” Steve stretches out a hand for him to shake, and the rest of you follow suit.

He introduces himself as Mitch before he shows you to the stage and tells you where the bathrooms are in case you need to spruce yourselves up before your set time later. He wishes you all luck and with that, he heads back to his post at the bar.

Time passes quickly as you work to set up the small stage, plugging in amps, tuning guitars, making sure you don’t trip over any cords in the process. Robin brought Nancy along with her so she could take photos of the gig tonight. Nancy had basically become the band’s personal photographer, taking photos at practices and every gig you’ve played so far, collecting tangible memories of your time together. It was sweet, really, and she loved having an excuse to follow Robin around. You and Eddie sing bits and pieces of a couple different songs to make sure the mics are sounding right, before the full band joins for a quick run-through of the five songs you’ll be playing this evening. It sounds great, you have to admit, but only time will tell if it’s good enough to get you an album deal.

Later that evening, you find yourself peeking out from behind the heavy velvet curtain, scanning the scattered tables on the floor. When your eyes land on none other than Scott Pierce, you feel yourself swallow a lump in your throat. He sits at a table alone, talking to a thin blonde woman and sipping on a beer. Robin comes up behind you and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Is he out there?” She asks in a whisper, even though no one would be able to hear the two of you anyways.

“Yeah… yeah he is. Are you ready for this?” you glance over your shoulder at her, eyeing her nervously.

“Honestly, I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been. But I’m also excited. Optimistic. This is our moment,” she smiles warmly at you and you can’t help but ease up. “All we gotta do is play our little hearts out like it doesn’t matter who’s watching.”

“You’re right. This is our moment. Let’s fucking do this,” you grin back, squeezing her in a tight hug.

The rest of the band is bustling in the small backstage area, Steve fixing his hair in a handheld mirror he brought, Gareth asking Eddie for his opinion on which shirt he should wear tonight (and Eddie getting incredibly frustrated because ‘it’s the same fucking shirt man, that one’s just a slightly lighter denim’). And he’s right, Gareth is holding up two almost identical denim button ups, one being a slightly lighter wash than the other - barely noticeable at a glance.

“Fifteen minutes till we’re on, guys, let’s get the show on the road,” you say as you head to the bathroom to fix your makeup.

You look at yourself in the mirror, pleased with your appearance. You wear an off-white long sleeve top that stops just above your belly button, exposing some skin but not too much, and the sleeves billow out at your wrists. An olive green suede skirt embroidered with flowers rests on your hips, and on your feet you wear short white boots with a chunky heel. Gold hoop earrings rest in your ears and a few different necklaces dangle low on your chest. You smudge some black eyeliner around your eyes and apply a generous layer of mascara to your lashes. Satisfied with the look, you ruffle your hair and put the makeup back in your bag. You take a deep breath in, grounding yourself, hyping yourself up for what you’re about to do.

You step out of the bathroom and run into Eddie, looking gorgeous in his dark denim bell bottoms and a red button up shirt, the top three buttons undone, exposing his pale chest and the gold chain he wears around his neck.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he smiles at you, grabbing your waist and pulling you in to kiss you all over.

“Hi handsome, you ready to play?” you smile back, cupping his face in your hands.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, sweets. Let’s rock n roll,” and with that, he’s pulling you backstage, eager and buzzing to start the show.

You hear Mitch speaking into the microphone on the stage, greeting everyone that’s gathered and thanking them for bringing business in. He keeps his speech short before announcing that there’d be a live band playing this evening for everyone.

“Ladies and gents, let’s give a warm welcome to The Rumors!” he steps off the stage, clapping with the rest of the club’s patrons.

And with that, you’re walking out onto the tiny stage, staring out at the startlingly large crowd packed in such a small space. Your eyes fall on Scott in the crowd once again, and this time his eyes meet yours. You feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest. Everyone positions themselves accordingly on stage, and you all exchange glances, giving one another encouraging nods and smiles. Nancy sits close to the stage with her camera and gives you all a thumbs up. The lights over the floor dim, focusing all of the attention on the five twenty-something year olds that stand eager behind their instruments and microphones.

There’s a moment of silence, and then Robin’s starting the show off on the keys. The first song of the night is Don’t Stop. You all deemed that to be the appropriate first track seeing as that was the song Eddie sent over to Scott’s office. Eddie sings the first lines into the microphone, taking charge like a natural. He’s always been like this, always had a knack for commanding attention onto him, enthralling an entire room with his energy. It’s no different when he’s on stage - in fact it’s even more powerful. Robin and Eddie sing together on this song, you don’t have any vocals on this one, so you flounce around on stage with your tambourine, grooving to the beat and letting the music flow through you.

You don’t realize it, but you captivate the audience just as much as Eddie does, if not more. Strikingly beautiful up on the stage as you dance around, the lights making your jewelry sparkle. Eddie watches the way you move, loves seeing you in your element like this. He hopes he’ll get to see you up on stage every night, selling out stadiums together.

By the end of the first song you feel your nerves washing away, your body freeing up gradually and letting you just flow. Next song up is an upbeat, folky little number that Eddie wrote, titled Second Hand News. Once again, you aren’t supposed to sing on this one, but you end up walking over to Eddie’s mic and singing harmony on the chorus with him. If anyone thought you two were captivating on your own, your energy together is electric, so much power behind both of your voices combined. Scott notes this as he watches you from the audience, can’t tear his eyes away from you and Eddie. You have something special, and he can tell.

Finally, as the third song starts, it’s your time to sing. You’ve been working on a song, Rhiannon, and you don’t feel like it’s quite complete but the rough version works for now. It’s slower than the first two numbers, your voice crooning into the microphone as you sing of the fictional woman you’ve dreamed up in your head. You’re expressive while you sing, arms extending and moving freely, the fabric of your shirt sleeves draping down and flowing with every movement. The band does minimal backing vocals in the chorus, but otherwise this song is your moment. Eddie watches you absolutely awestruck, and he swears the crowd has collectively leaned forward, craning to hear every word that leaves your lips.

The final two songs are covers, and when your set is over the audience claps and cheers, a much more rowdy applause than you expected. Eddie thanks everyone for listening tonight and the five of you take a big bow, arm in arm, before exiting the stage. Backstage, everyone is chatting excitedly, congratulating each other on a job well done. Eddie’s standing behind you, long arms wrapped around you as you blush at Robin’s praise over your Rhiannon performance. The chatter stops when Mitch comes to the back, bringing Scott Pierce with him.

“Well, you guys had one hell of a show tonight,” Scott says, way friendlier than you expected him to be.

“Mr. Pierce, thank you so much for coming tonight. I’m Eddie, this is Y/N, Steve, Robin, and Gareth,” Eddie introduces each of you, and Scott greets you all warmly.

“It’s my pleasure, really. I’m very pleasantly surprised by the talent you guys have, that was some serious stuff up there,” he praises you, and you catch Steve’s eye as he grins at you from over Scott’s shoulder, mouthing ‘He likes us!’.

“That means so much to us, really,” you reply. “We love making music, it’s a dream to be here tonight.”

“I can tell you all have a lot of passion for this band. Eddie, you were the one who spoke with Linda at my office, right? What do you say we chit chat for a little, privately?” Eddie nods, motioning for Scott to lead the way to a table.

He turns around and gives you all a quick thumbs up, and the rest of you all jump around like hyper children. The time that Eddie’s gone feels like an eternity, and you’re waiting with baited breath to hear what Scott pitched to your boyfriend. What if it’s not the offer you want? You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t gotten your hopes up, dreaming of releasing an album and going on tour, playing sold out shows with your best friends every single night since Eddie told you all that he got you a gig. Not hearing what you want from Scott would feel like a punch to the gut.

“Relax darlin’, you look all tense over here,” Gareth places a hand on your shoulder, giving you a lopsided smile. “We’re gonna be fine, he really liked us.”

You don’t get a chance to respond before the curtain is ripped open and Eddie is running over to you, picking you up and spinning you around.

“Guess who’s making a fucking record!?” he hollers, setting you down and holding your hands in his.

“No way, Eddie! No way, are you serious?” you’re yelling back at him, Gareth, Steve, Robin, and now Nancy all gathering around you.

“We’re making an album! He fucking loved us, we got an offer to start recording at Sound City in California, a meeting with a big label. If all goes well, we’ll be touring, topping the fucking charts,” Eddie is beaming, talking a mile a minute.

The room fills with a chorus of excited cheering and shouting, the whole bunch of you having a group hug. You feel your eyes well up with happy tears as you look around at your friends, all smiles. Robin pulls Nancy into a kiss, Eddie ruffles Gareth’s hair, and you’re hugging Steve tight, probably staining his shirt with your watery eyes.

After you’ve all thanked Scott profusely and made loose plans to be in California within the next few weeks, the band packs up their gear and you all hit the road back to Hawkins. The energy in the van is different on the ride home, all of you singing loudly along to whatever comes on the radio, each of you dreaming up the wildest ideas of superstardom.

Later that night, back at home, you’re in bed with Eddie. Riding him slowly, holding a joint to your lips as you take a hit before passing it back to him. A window is open, night air warm with the promise of the approaching summer as it wafts in through the screen. Eddie hums blissfully beneath you, dark curls sprawled across the pillow under his head. You love intimate moments like this with Eddie, but as much as you want to focus on him right now, your mind wanders. He catches this, unsurprisingly. He can always sense a shift in your mood.

“What’s on that mind of yours, dove?” he asks, putting the joint in the ashtray on the nightstand.

“I dunno…. it’s silly,” you sigh, not meeting his gaze as those big brown eyes stare up at you.

“Baby, nothing is silly if it’s bothering you. Talk to me,” he coos, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You stop the slow rocking of your hips and tilt your cheek into his touch. “I’m just…. scared, Ed. I’m so happy we got this offer, it’s everything you and I have wanted since high school. But - I don’t know,” you stop yourself, chewing on your lip. Eddie rubs his thumb along your cheek, silently encouraging you to keep talking. “What if this changes everything, babe? What if fame is too much for us, what if it destroys us… comes between us….” you trail off, eyes searching his for an answer.

“My little dove, nothing is going to come between us,” Eddie says, voice soft but serious. “I love you more than words - you’re my world, baby, and I’m so excited to do all of these big things with you by my side,” his hands run up and down the sides of your body, relaxing you. “This is a big change for us, moving out to the West Coast, starting a new life. But I’ll be with you every step of the way. I love you so much.”

You giggle, leaning down to kiss him as he beckons you with a curling finger. His words always have a way of soothing you, his voice sweet like honey as it coaxes you out of your anxious headspace.

“I love you, too. I really can’t wait to have this life with you, Eddie.”

The next couple hours are spent with you two tangled up between the sheets, Eddie making passionate love to you, as you come undone again and again for him. You reassure yourself that while taking the next step into fame might be intimidating, you’ve got Eddie, and your best friends, and you’re gonna be fine.

June 18th, 1972. Los Angeles, California.

The band has arrived on the West Coast. The last couple weeks since your show at The Corner were full of packing your essential belongings, spending time with friends and family as much as possible before you left, writing snippets of songs together here and there so you have something to work off of when it’s time to start recording. The day your road trip to California started, you were misty-eyed saying goodbye to your loved ones. Eddie’s Uncle Wayne even shed a few tears himself, which never happens, and he laughed as Eddie teased him about it - “You getting soft on me, old man?”.

As the five of you drove out of Hawkins, you looked out the back window of the vehicle, saying a silent ‘thank you’ to the town that gave you your start - the town that brought your band together. A bittersweet feeling coursed through you as you cruised past the sign that read ‘Leaving Hawkins. Come Back Soon!’.

The trip to LA didn’t feel as long as it really was, Eddie and Steve taking turns driving the van as you, Robin, and Gareth played cards in the back to pass time, or sang obnoxiously to the radio. Some nights the rumble of the van’s tires on pavement lulled you to sleep as the drive continued on through the darkness. Sometimes you’d take the passenger seat and stay up late with Eddie as he drove under the glow of streetlights. Other nights were filled with the squeaky mattresses and peeling wallpaper of rundown motels that would house you when the task of driving overnight seemed impossible, the electric glow of vacancy signs flashing softly in through the window as you slept in Eddie’s arms, dreaming of world tours and screaming fans.

You documented bits of every single day in your journal, finding comfort in writing things down, your thoughts and feelings throughout the process of a drastic lifestyle change. Robin made sure to pick up various postcards from rest stops along the way to send to Nancy, who wouldn’t be joining you guys in Cali for another 2 weeks. Many quarters were used on payphone calls, each of you calling one person or another back home to let them know how things were going, what state you were in now, and so on. You made sure to take photos whenever you could on your disposable camera - catching Robin and Steve at a rest stop in Nevada, frozen in ridiculous poses as they stretched their sore limbs. There’s one of Gareth asleep in the back of the van, with a mustache drawn on his face in marker - courtesy of Eddie, of course. One taken by Steve of Eddie giving you a piggyback ride through a gas station parking lot, you laughing wildly. All in all, you had a blast on your road trip, as tiring as it was at times. You knew it was leading you to bigger and better things, and that made it more than worth it.

When you arrive to Los Angeles at long last, the evening glow washing over the landscape, Steve pulls the van into the gravelly driveway of the house you guys were renting for the time being, nestled in Laurel Canyon. There was plenty of unpacking to be done, and a meeting with Scott and some producers and label executives at Sound City tomorrow. But before any of it, you needed to sleep in a real bed. You claim a room to serve as yours and Eddie’s, and immediately flop yourself down on the soft mattress. Before long you feel Eddie climb in beside you as you drift to sleep, his long arm wrapping around your waist, and his soft breathing lulling you into peaceful slumber.

The following morning, the house is off the walls with energy. Everyone is excited and also nervous to get the show on the road, eager to start recording some songs. You all scramble to get ready, making yourselves presentable and each downing enough coffee to kill a horse. You have to practically drag Eddie out of the bathroom when it’s time to leave, insisting that yes his hair looked good and yes you liked his outfit and you had to go like right now or you were going to be late and make a horrible impression. Tires peel out of the driveway after loading everyone into the vehicle, and you watch out the windows as you drive down roads unfamiliar to you. You gaze up at the palm trees and white puffy clouds, smiling and waving at people on street corners who caught your eye. The whole city seemed to welcome you, opening up before you and inviting you in.

When you pull into the studio parking lot, you notice Scott waiting by the door, smiling warmly at you all. He shakes everyone’s hands in greeting as he welcomes you to LA, asking about your drive out and making pleasant conversation. He leads you in through the large doors and into the lobby, where a handful of presumably important people are waiting for you, dressed in suits and polished dress shoes. You suddenly feel out of place, standing there in your crochet halter top and a pair of denim shorts, flimsy ankle boots on your feet. No one seems to pay any mind, though, and you’re greeted brightly by all of the new faces. Scott introduces all of them, and wastes no time delving into the business aspect of it all. A couple hours go by answering questions about what your band is looking for, what direction you’d like to head in, going over potential contract info, so on and so forth.

By early afternoon you’re officially signed to a label, set to release an album and go on tour for it. It all felt so surreal, your head spinning as you’d signed your name to the contract, sloping cursive letters beneath finely printed details. The label representatives had asked if you had any songs that were ready to record as single material, wanting to get your band name out there as soon as possible. You’d all agreed that Don’t Stop made the most sense to release as the first single, given that it was really the song that got you here in the first place. It was upbeat and catchy, got stuck in your head, and it wasn’t too long but wasn’t too short. You’d agreed to record it that very day and, if you got a good take, you’d send it off to the label. In the meantime, Scott informed you he’d gotten you some gigs on the Sunset Strip and other nearby sites, playing the Whiskey a Go-Go, the Troubadour, the hot spots. He thought it would be a great way to spread the word about you guys before your first single hit the radio, to really get the anticipation brewing.

Things were a whirlwind after that.

Nancy joined you guys in California, dead set on working as the band’s official photographer, unwilling to let some pompous Hollywood asshole take her place. You began playing the gigs Scott had lined up for you as promised, gathering genuinely large crowds - at least large in your eyes - and by the end of July, Don’t Stop was released as The Rumors’ first single. Everywhere you went, you’d find yourself catching your song on the radio. Your boyfriend’s voice, playing over the speakers of local diners, grocery stores, blasting from the speakers of convertibles that drove down the city streets. It performed well, for a debut single from a previously never-heard-of band. People enjoyed it, they wanted more. The summer was filled with song writing, meetings with more and more important people who’d be working on your team, interviews with magazines and newspapers. And, notably, from the very beginning people took an interest in you and Eddie’s relationship. They thought it was sweet that you two were living out your shared dream, saw potential for the romance to bring good lyrical content.

The album was set to be completed and released by the end of the year, which meant many long nights writing and recording and re-recording. You had a decent track list planned out, an album of ten songs, perfect for a debut record. Don’t Stop would, of course, be on there. Robin’s You Make Loving Fun and your Rhiannon, which you’d been working hard to get polished to your liking. Second Hand News, and a new song Steve wrote for Robin to sing, called Say You Love Me. You and Eddie wrote a sweet duet titled Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around, an angsty love song that you knew would get crowds riled up as you sang it to each other. Monday Morning, I’m so Afraid, and Landslide would join the rest, the latter being written by you after having a sentimental late night talk with Robin, thinking about change and how scary growing up can be, much inspired by your recent lifestyle change, of course. Everywhere was the last song added to the track list, ultimately pushing some others off the table for the time being. You and Robin wrote Everywhere together, very much with your respective partners in mind, the lyric ‘I wanna be with you everywhere’ serving as an ode to your devotion to travel anywhere work takes you with Eddie, and Nancy’s willingness to follow Robin.

Eddie’s favorite nights were the ones where you and him stayed up practicing your songs, trying to record the perfect take even if it meant being in the studio till four in the morning. You’d share cheap wine and get high, roaming hands and stolen kisses on exposed skin eventually leading the two of you to get in the bus and go home, stumbling into bed and immersing yourselves in one another. One particular night found you bent over the arm of the couch in the studio, Eddie’s fingers sinking into the skin of your hips as he drove into you from behind. He was so eager to have you he couldn’t even wait until he got you home. He had you right where he wanted you, listening to your pretty noises as he watched his cock sink into you.

“Mmph, Eddie, what if someone comes in here?” you ask, voice staggered as your body lurched with every thrust he gave you.

“It’s late at night, baby, no one’s gonna walk in. Everyone else is probably out at the bars,” he reassures you, leaning down to press kisses up your spine. “Love having you like this, little dove, pussy’s so greedy for me.”

You babble incoherently for him as he works you to climax, pulling out of you after he’d filled you with his spend. You redressed your bottom half, adjusting your skirt as you sat down on the worn fabric of the couch, Eddie’s cum dripping down onto it.

“Christ, babe, I’m gonna get hard every time we walk in here now,” Eddie murmured, stealing a kiss from you as you tried to get back to work.

You ended up writing a song that night, inspiration striking you randomly. You titled it Leather and Lace, a love song very much inspired by the man that had you head over heels for him. You sang it to Eddie softly in the dim light of your bedroom after arriving back home that night, and he ended up adding another verse, making it into a duet. And for now, it stayed just between the two of you, a private declaration of the love between both of you.

When you guys weren’t in the studio or busy with other band tasks, you were indulging in the California night scene, going to bars and dancing at clubs. You’d often drink till the room was spinning and your skin was tingling, laughing with Eddie at every little thing, just to barely remember the evening’s events the following morning.

Come September, your label was pushing to release a second single, leaving it up to the five of you to decide which song you wanted to push through. You knew that everyone else wanted Rhiannon as the next single, but you were admittedly nervous to put the song out into the world as a stand-alone. That song is one you regarded as being your baby, and so you sit chewing on your fingernails as the rest of your band tries to persuade you that this is the song.

“Come on, Dove. It’s a great song, and you know it,” Gareth says, sitting across from you with his elbows on his knees, leaning forward to try and level with you.

“The world needs to hear that beautiful voice of yours before this album comes out,” Robin chimes in. “What’re you afraid of, love?”

“I just- I love this song,” you say. “And I know that the whole ‘being famous’ thing is going to invite criticism, and negative opinions, and all of it. But I just don’t know if I’m ready to deal with hearing slander for this song if people don’t end up liking it,” you lean into Eddie who’s sat beside you, his big hand rubbing your arm reassuringly.

“They’re gonna love it, baby, because you’re phenomenal in everything you do,” he encourages. “You know I’ve been saying since the day you wrote it that I just have a feeling this song will be pivotal for us,” and the rest of the group nods in agreement.

You ponder this, chewing your lip and picking at the frayed edges of your denim shorts.

“Fine. Rhiannon it is.”

It turns out that Eddie was right, and Rhiannon performed insanely well, coming out at #10 on the charts. People at your gigs on The Strip had heard this song performed, and had clearly been eagerly awaiting its hopeful release. Naturally, Eddie wouldn’t let you live it down. You’re sitting in the kitchen a few days after the song’s release, eating breakfast when Eddie comes barreling in. He immediately turns on the radio with clumsy fingers as he pops a piece of bread into the toaster. Sure enough, Rhiannon was playing on the station, and Eddie starts singing along.

“Gee, I wonder who sings this song?” he asks around a mouthful of banana.

You look over at him and roll your eyes, chuckling at how he’s dancing across the floor.

“Man, I sure would love to be the guy who gets to sleep next to her every night, she’s got the voice of an angel,” he swoons dramatically, making you laugh even further when he accidentally drops his banana.

“Whoops,” he shrugs, taking his toast out of the toaster and applying an obscene amount of chunky peanut butter on it, before sitting across from you at the table.

He grabs your hand as the song finishes, squeezing it as if to say ‘I’m so proud of you’. You couldn’t help but smile. He’s always been your number one supporter, it’s no surprise he’s acting this way now.

The song was big then and it only got bigger, people couldn’t get enough. In the coming weeks it was played even more frequently and in even more places than Don’t Stop had been. People started recognizing the band out in public, specifically you and Eddie, and you got to sign your first autographs to some giddy girls who stopped you outside of a record shop.

To say the months after that were a blur is an understatement, the five of you being whipped into newfound fame faster than you could comprehend. Your album, simply titled with your band name, was released in November. It was performing extremely well, Rhiannon really being the catalyst that made people excited to hear more from you. Talks of tour were near constant, deciding on dates, cities, the setlist. It was set to begin in March, rehearsals set to start in January. Ultimately, you all decided it made the most sense to play the entire album on tour, given that it was only ten songs. You’d throw in a few covers for good measure, ones that really showcased the flare you guys could bring to music.

The world was loving The Rumors, and you guys were absolutely enjoying the fame. It seemed as though everywhere you went now, somebody wanted your autograph, or simply came up to say they love the record. The five of you adjusted to your new lives slowly yet rather confidently, letting your hard work be praised by the masses. It felt good to finally be more than a band playing bars with a crowd of ten drunk patrons, and you’d tell that to any interviewer who would listen. As exciting as it all was, you were looking forward to having a little bit of a break before the chaos of tour and rehearsals would begin. Scott had told you guys to take a couple of weeks off for the holidays, insisting that you all absolutely deserved to relax. The band would pick back up in the new year, but for now, you could spend some time laying low.

December 20th, 1972. Hawkins, Indiana.

You and Eddie had flown back home to Hawkins to celebrate Christmas. You were eager to snuggle into the coziness of home, enjoy the snow and the colorful lights and the nostalgia of the season. Steve and Gareth had stayed in California, Steve not really having a reason to come home what with his parents always being gone, and Gareth having invited his family out to the West Coast for a warm and sunny holiday. Robin and Nancy were coming back to Hawkins as well, but a couple days after your and Eddie’s arrival. You step out of the rental car Eddie had snagged for your time at home, the cold chill of the air whipping your face. You wrap your coat tighter around your frame, realizing just how accustomed you’d grown to the warm and sunny California weather. Eddie walks around to the back of the car, his thick jacket lined with Sherpa keeping him insulated as he grabs your suitcases from the trunk. His nose is red from the chill of the air as he quickly walks the suitcases up to the front door of your family home, where your parents and Wayne should be waiting on your arrival. The front door opens before you can even grab the doorknob, your dad welcoming you into the warmth of your home.

“There’s our favorite rockstars!” he jokes, making you roll your eyes as you hug him in greeting.

Your mom rushes to the door, pulling you into a hug and then Eddie after the suitcases are handed off to your dad. Wayne gives you one of his signature tight hugs and a kiss on the side of your head, just like he always used to, before pulling Eddie into a bear hug that seems to last minutes. You head up to your old room once the greetings are over, and you find yourself overwhelmed with nostalgia. You hadn’t even been in California a year, and yet coming home felt like something you’d hadn’t done in decades. You squeeze the teddy bear that sits on your bed, your childhood friend that you’d ultimately decided to leave here during the move. You inhale the scent of home within the bear, your body feeling warm and you can’t help but smile.

“You okay, Dove?” Eddie asks, stepping into your room and wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Yeah. Just happy to be home,” you smile, tilting your head back to look up at him.

He gives you an understanding smile back. It’s good to be home.

Not much has changed in the sleepy town of Hawkins, other than the fact that posters of your band are plastered just about everywhere. Your town has always had your back, so it’s no surprise they’re proudly showing off and saying ‘Hey, look! We’re that town where The Rumors are from!’. You even run into some girls from high school, begging for autographs from you and Eddie. Eddie doesn’t even give them the time of day before he’s pulling you away just as you’d uncapped your marker, mumbling something about ‘they hated me in high school, what do they deserve an autograph for?’.

The holidays come and go quite quickly, Christmas being spent wrapped in Eddie’s arms in cozy matching sweaters, singing carols for family while Eddie played his acoustic. The new year rolled in with Eddie pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips, the taste of sweet wine on his tongue, and whispered promises of making this year a fantastic one. Being back at home made you feel comfortably small again, a stark contrast to the ever growing spotlight that’s been placed on you in California. Of course, you’re over the moon to be getting such success, but being surrounded with family in your childhood home brings you a different kind of peace. You’re inevitably teary when it comes time for you and Eddie to fly back to LA, hugging your parents and Wayne goodbye, sniffling into a tissue. You hold Eddie’s hand almost the entire flight back, letting him reassure you in the way his thumb rubs over your hand. Getting back to Cali meant you’d be hitting the ground running, a short couple of months until tour was set to start. If only you’d known that this would be the calm before the storm.

taglist: @hargrovesswifee @lofaewrites @tiannamortis @munson-blurbs @manda-panda-monium

[kingofbodyrolls]

My heart's Home (m) | pjm | twenty [epilogue]

🐴Chapter summary: It’s been over two years since you and Jimin’s wedding. Now, a journalist wants to interview you to ask you some questions about a story you’re apparently part of.

🐴Chapter title: Epilogue

🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc

🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au + smut, humor, fluff, slow burn and angst

🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

🐴Chapter warnings: no much, it is pretty tame, the wildest thing is maybe the description of nursing a baby, so I would say it’s pretty tame + there is one ounce of violence (a slap). But also, mentions of pregnancy, car accident, fire, hurt and anger, but there’s also a lot of love 🥹

🐴Status: completed 🥳

🐴Word count: 7.4k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “My Heart’s Home (Drover’s Run)” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: hi everyone!!! I’m back with the epilogue/Q&A and it’s been almost a month?? What, how are you guys doing? I hope you’re still excited to read the ending for these lovely characters. It’s filled with some catching up and some much needed answers and truths we’ve been waiting for. Sadly, there weren't as many people participating in the Q&A as I anticipated, but it’s okay— I guess you guys are busy, and that’s okay! I did go through some of your questions from the comments and wrote those in a questions, because there was some that I never really answered, or was being vague about, because I didn’t want to spoil certain things in the story 🤭 But thank you so much to those who participated, I means the world to me 😭💖 Before you read, I want to explain that I wrote this epilogue/Q&A differently like the rest— it reads as a normal chapter, so the questions are weaved into the story, and I inserted myself into the storyline 😂 It was fun, but I really hope that I didn’t make it too weird! It got a bit meta and fourth walling, but I hope it’s okay. It’s just for fun and giggles!! I really hope you enjoy it, please let me know if you did, and thank you so much for reading ✨

Also, I did not proofread this, just because I’m being a bit lazy and I really want to get this out, and write other things 🙂

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | 

“The eyes of a childSee a long long waySee the future see the pastThey see everything first and last I was that childWho rode these hillsIn my dreams I see the starsIn my dreams I always will Ride these hillsSee in the morningI’ll hear the rain on the shedBut other stars and other sunsets will hang above my headThere will be different places different peopleBut I’ll still be the same” ‘My Heart’s Home (Drover’s Run)’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Your gaze flits between the secure baby seat nestled within the sturdy confines of Jimin’s truck and the warm, loving and protective gaze of his deep brown eyes, lingering on both with a silent question hanging in the air, “Do you think she’s alright back there on her own?”

His expression softens the moment your eyes meet his, a gentle reassurance emanating from his gaze as he rounds the truck. “Yes, my love,” he murmurs tenderly. “Is she still sleeping?”

With a fluid motion, he swings open the door and slides into the driver’s seat, the familiar click of the key finding its place in the ignition. Yet, instead of bringing the engine to life, he pauses, a moment of quiet anticipation hanging in the air before the journey ahead.

“Yeah, sound asleep,” you reply, a soft smile gracing your lips, your voice a blend of affection and weariness, the result of minimal sleep but an abundance of love—the kind that fills every tired corner of your being.

You steal a glance at your baby girl, nestled in serene slumber, her cherubic cheeks a mirror image of Jimin’s, her eyelids dancing with the rhythm of her gentle breaths. In this tranquil moment, her chest rises and falls in perfect harmony, a testament to the peace that envelops her. Despite the occasional cries born of hunger or discomfort, in these quiet moments, she embodies pure innocence and unfathomable cuteness.

She’s just a tiny two-month-old bundle of joy, still finding her way in the world—it’s only natural for her to fuss now and then. You press a delicate kiss to her rosy apple cheeks, ensuring not to disturb her tranquil sleep, before gently closing the door with a soft click. As you circle around the truck, slipping into the passenger’s seat beside Jimin, you can’t help but feel a surge of gratitude for this precious moment of family serenity amidst the hustle of life.

As you settle into your seat, a sudden impulse draws you closer to your husband, leaning across the console to steal a swift yet tender kiss from his lips—it’s a simple gesture, but one that carries the weight of your affection in every fleeting moment. With the engine humming to life beneath his command, the truck eases out of the yard and onto the winding road that leads into the heart of the town.

Heading into town for an interview feels like stepping into a surreal dimension. 

The journalist’s call left you bewildered, grappling with the bizarre realization that your seemingly ordinary life isn’t quite what it seems—that it’s woven into some larger narrative that others find intriguing. The initial confusion still lingers, grappling with the surreal notion that your existence, though deeply felt and real to you, is merely a tale spun for others’ consumption.The questions they want to ask blur the lines between reality and fiction, leaving you questioning the very fabric of your existence. It’s a puzzling journey, navigating the complexities of a life that feels real to you, even if it’s just a story to others.

A whirlwind of questions swirls through your mind, each one more perplexing than the last, yet here you are, navigating the familiar main road into town alongside your beloved husband and precious baby—all tangible, all undeniably real in your heart. The comfort of their presence grounds you amidst the confusion, their warmth and solidity reassuring in a world suddenly tinged with uncertainty. Even the sight of the familiar cars ahead and the fleeting reflections in Jimin’s trusty blue truck mirrors offer a sense of continuity, a reassuring thread weaving through the fabric of your reality.

As Jimin guides the car through the winding roads toward town, a gentle melody fills the air, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. With your baby girl peacefully nestled in slumber, you lean back in your seat, surrendering to the soothing rhythm of the music. Closing your eyes, you allow the soft strains to lull you into a peaceful nap, trusting in Jimin's steady hands to carry you safely onward.

As consciousness slowly seeps back into your awareness, a gentle touch brushes against your cheek, coaxing your eyelids to flutter open. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, your gaze catches sight of a small trickle of drool escaping the corner of your mouth.

Rousing from your tranquil repose, a tender touch graces your cheek again, coaxing you gently from the depths of sleep. The soft warmth of your husband’s fingers brings you back to consciousness, accompanied by the endearing whisper of, “Wake up, beautiful.”

Despite the disheveled state of your appearance—drool tracing a path down your chin, eyes bloodshot from the relentless pursuit of precious sleep, and puffy lids resembling the aftermath of a surprise punch—his affectionate words infuse you with a warmth that transcends physical imperfections.

“I’m anything but,” you groan, the words heavy with self-deprecation, as you reach to unclasp your seatbelt, your gaze locking with Jimin’s comforting brown eyes, seeking solace in their warmth.

Cradling your face tenderly in his hands, Jimin’s touch is unwavering, disregarding the drool that lingers on his fingers as he gazes into your eyes, his own expression turning resolute. “To me, you’ll always be beautiful,” he asserts, his words carrying the weight of unwavering devotion. “Drool, puffy eyes, wild hair—it doesn’t matter. You’re perfect just as you are.”

A soft snort escapes you, but you can’t help but smile at his unwavering support. Lately, your self-doubt has been a relentless companion, haunting you with every imperfection and misstep. Yet, in this moment, Jimin’s earnest attempt to uplift you resonates deeply. Swallowing your protests, you offer him a gentle smile, a silent acknowledgment of his efforts. As he steps out of the truck to retrieve the baby seat, a sense of warmth fills the space between you, a silent promise of solidarity in navigating the complexities of parenthood together.

Stepping out of the car, you’re greeted by a heartwarming sight: a sea of familiar faces, friends, and family alike, their smiles beaming like beacons of love amidst the bustling parking lot. Waves of warmth wash over you as you take in the scene, their presence a comforting reminder of the support system that surrounds you on this journey called life.

Amidst the crowd, your gaze locks onto your sister, her once graceful stride now slightly altered by the burgeoning swell of her belly, a testament to the imminent arrival of new life. The closeness of her due date is palpable, casting a glow of anticipation around her. Beside her, Jungkook stands, his hands intertwined with those of their twin daughters, bubbling with youthful exuberance as they approach their second birthday. The scene before you is a vibrant tapestry of love, growth, and the boundless joy that comes with expanding family ties.

As you scan the parking lot, your eyes alight upon Ara and Tae, Soo-ah and Namjoon, Ha-rin and Jin, and Hobi and Yoongi, each couple intertwined in a tender embrace, hands clasped in a silent promise of solidarity. A smile tugs at your lips, a reflexive response to the infectious happiness radiating from your loved ones. The sight of their contentment ignites a warmth within your chest, a swell of love so profound it threatens to burst forth, filling every corner of your being with boundless joy.

With a sense of purpose, you swiftly retrieve your diaper bag, your steps falling in line behind Jimin and the rest of your beloved family as you make your way towards the imposing structure that houses the interview. The anticipation crackles in the air, mingling with the collective energy of your family, propelling you forward into the heart of the momentous occasion.

As you traverse the pristine white halls, the stark minimalism of the surroundings amplifies the gravity of the moment, each step echoing with a sense of purpose. Arriving in the expansive room bathed in soft light, your gaze sweeps across the array of neatly arranged couches and chairs, the anticipation building with every passing moment. Suddenly, your stomach clenches, and your grip on the diaper bag tightens involuntarily as you spot a familiar face across the room. A surge of conflicting emotions washes over you, your lips drawing into a tight frown as your eyes lock onto none other than Deiji.

Your mind races with a barrage of questions, each one more incredulous than the last. Why in the world is she here? How could she possibly be part of this interview too? Seated comfortably on the plush green velour chair, her demeanor exudes an air of calculated poise—her feet crossed neatly, her hair fashioned flawlessly into a high ponytail, every detail meticulously curated from her manicured nails to her impeccably applied makeup. The audacity of her composed smile, paired with her deliberate ignorance of your presence, sends a surge of indignation coursing through you. With a barely concealed scoff, you can’t help but brand her with the only label that seems fitting at this moment: a bona fide bitch.

Your attention shifts to the woman you presume to be the interviewer, her voluminous brown curls framing a face adorned with oversized golden glasses—a quirky yet endearing sight. With a welcoming gesture, she invites you to settle in and make yourself at home. Your eyes sweep over the table adorned with an assortment of beverages, from glasses of water to an array of sodas, teas, and coffee—an offering tailored to every preference. Nestling into the chair beside Jimin, your sleeping baby girl cradled safely nearby, you watch as Jimin delicately places the baby seat at your feet before reaching for a chilled glass of water, the cool condensation a refreshing relief against your fingertips.

As the rest of the gang settles into their seats, anticipation hangs heavy in the air, thick with a mixture of excitement and nervous energy. The woman with the oversized glasses offers a warm smile that barely conceals the flicker of apprehension dancing in her eyes. Your gaze drifts to the edges of her notebook, where her fingers fidget nervously, betraying the weight of the questions she undoubtedly holds within its pages. 

“Hello, everyone! Thank you all for being here today. I’m absolutely thrilled to have you join us. My name is Lissa, and I’ll be guiding our conversation today. I’ve got a bunch of questions lined up that our readers are itching to hear your answers to. But first things first, how’s everyone doing? And just how long has it been since we saw you last?” Lissa’s voice rings out with genuine warmth, her smile radiant despite the subtle dance of nerves behind her glasses, which threaten to slide down her nose.

“We’re all doing good, thanks for asking,” you reply, a hint of playful skepticism lacing your words. “But as for ‘since we saw you last,’ well, that’s a bit of a puzzler. Our lives didn’t exactly wrap up neatly when your story did, you know?” The chorus of agreement from your companions echoes your sentiment, though a pointed scoff from Deiji punctuates the moment, serving as a stark reminder of lingering tensions.

“Oh, yeah. I get that,” Lissa says and you nod in understanding, observing the woman’s thoughtful pause as she considers her next words. Suddenly, a spark of realization ignites within her, and she bursts forth with newfound clarity. “Since the wedding between you and Jimin,” she announces, prompting a flood of memories to rush back as you mentally trace the timeline of events that have unfolded since that momentous occasion. The weight of time feels suddenly palpable as you ponder just how far you’ve journeyed since then.

“It’s hard to believe, but it’s been just over two incredible years,” your sister’s voice carries a soft undercurrent of awe, her smile radiating warmth as she lovingly caresses her burgeoning belly, a silent testament to the passage of time and the miracles it has wrought.

Lissa’s nod is accompanied by a soft, knowing smile that seems to acknowledge the weight of the question she’s about to pose. Her gaze sweeps over the group, each member holding a unique story within them, waiting to be unveiled. “So, what’s unfolded in your lives since then?” She inquires, her words carrying a sense of anticipation, as if she’s poised on the edge of a grand narrative waiting to unfurl.

As you cast your gaze over the familiar faces of your friends and family, a flood of memories washes over you, a tapestry woven with moments both poignant and joyous. The corners of your lips tug upward in a bittersweet smile, knowing all too well the magnitude of what has transpired since that pivotal day. “A lot has happened,” you begin, your voice laced with a mixture of nostalgia and excitement, “mainly good things—more weddings, new arrivals, and the beautiful chaos of growing families.”

“We tied the knot,” Yoongi interjects, a soft smile gracing his lips as he proudly displays his intertwined hands with Hoseok, the gleaming gold bands adorning their fingers catching the light in a dazzling display of commitment and love.

“It was just a small and intimate wedding,” Hoseok chimes in, his laughter dancing through the air like music, infusing the memory of their wedding day with an infectious warmth.

“Jessi and I had quite the surprise,” Jungkook shares, a chuckle escaping as he recalls the whirlwind of events. “Twins, out of the blue, and before we knew it, she was expecting again,” he adds, a sheepish grin accompanying the gesture of scratching the back of his head.

Jessi straightens, her eyes alight with a newfound excitement. “And this time,” she interjects, her voice brimming with anticipation, “we made sure to get an extra ultrasound. Just one baby this time, and he’s going to be a little boy.” 

Their two daughters bounce around with infectious laughter, their giggles filling the room as they dart and weave around their father, vying for his attention with every playful leap and bound. Occasionally, they clamber over him, their small hands reaching out in a bid to capture his focus.

You can’t help but smile, reminiscing about the sheer shock and delight that washed over them when Jessi unexpectedly gave birth to twins. The incredulity of the situation still lingers, leaving you puzzled at how such a miraculous surprise could go unnoticed, even by the hospital staff.

“Seokjin and I,” Ha-rin begins to say with a playful wink, her eyes gleaming with pride as she shares their latest venture with the group. “We’ve taken the plunge into the culinary world—we’re running our very own catering business now,” she announces, the excitement palpable in her voice as she unveils their newest endeavor.

“We’re just enjoying each other’s company,” Namjoon remarks, his fingers intertwining with Soo-ah’s, eliciting a charming blush that paints her cheeks a delightful shade of pink.

“We’re also just taking it slow,” Taehyung chimes in, enfolding Ara in a tender embrace that speaks volumes of their affection.

“My life is good,” As Deiji’s words linger in the air, a heavy silence settles over the group, punctuated only by the soft rustle of shifting emotions. Your eyes narrow involuntarily at her assertion, a flicker of disdain tainting your expression. Memories of her past actions flood your mind, a reminder of the pain and manipulation she once inflicted on Jimin—and by extension, on you. Despite her attempt at casual indifference, the wounds she left behind still linger, a testament to the true depth of her betrayal and you don’t think you’ll be able to forget how much of a bitch she really is.

“That’s quite the journey. So much to unpack,” Lissa muses, her voice tinged with a blend of intrigue and anticipation. She pauses, allowing the weight of the moment to settle before continuing. “I’ve compiled a mix of questions from our readers and some of my own curiosities,” she explains, her gaze flicking down to her notepad briefly before lifting to meet your husband’s eyes with a subtle intensity.

“Jimin,” Lissa’s voice hangs in the air, drawn out slightly as if she’s grappling with the weight of the words inscribed on her paper. “One of our readers,” she continues, her tone delicately balanced between caution and curiosity, “expresses concern about the challenges you’ve put your wife through. They’re wondering what steps you’re planning to take to make amends.”

You turn towards Jimin, the air thick with anticipation as his expression shifts, caught off guard by the weight of the question. His lips part slightly, a silent testament to the thoughts racing through his mind, while the room holds its breath, waiting for his response.

“Well,” Jimin begins, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity as he addresses the room, “I’m fully aware of the pain I’ve caused with my actions and the misunderstandings that ensued. Every day, I’m committed to improving myself, striving to be the husband she deserves. I make it a point to express my gratitude and admiration for her, knowing that it’s the least I can do.” A warm smile graces his lips as he reaches for your hand, drawing it gently across his thigh. The strength and warmth of his touch convey a depth of emotion, his grip tender yet resolute as he intertwines his fingers with yours, a silent vow of his unwavering dedication.

With a soft smile, you shift your gaze towards Lissa, a glimmer of understanding shining in your eyes. “That’s all in the past now,” you affirm, your tone brimming with assurance. “Jimin doesn’t need to prove his love to me—I’ve known it all along. I forgave him a long time ago because our love is stronger than any mistake. We’re focused on moving forward together, embracing the journey ahead to discover our true greatness as a couple.”

Deiji’s scoff cuts through the air, prompting an exasperated roll of your eyes. Once again, you find yourself questioning her presence—why exactly is she even here?

“That’s wonderful to hear. I think that’s important,” Lissa interjects, her voice filled with genuine warmth and sincerity. A sudden shimmer in her eyes catches your attention, like glistening dewdrops on petals at dawn, revealing a depth of emotion akin to that of a proud mother watching her children thrive.

“Now, I have a question that might tread into uncomfortable territory,” Lissa begins, her gaze momentarily locking with yours before she shifts her focus downward, her nervousness palpable as she anxiously nibbles on her bottom lip.

Lissa’s cheeks flush a deep shade of crimson, the color spreading to the tips of her ears as she bravely lifts her gaze, her question hanging in the air like an electric charge. “Which brother do you think is best in bed?” She blurts out, her voice carrying a mix of trepidation and curiosity.

Your throat tightens, a sudden rush of disbelief threatening to choke you as you struggle to process Lissa’s audacious question. With eyes wide as saucers, you find yourself grappling with the sheer incredulity of her inquiry—could someone truly be bold enough to pose such a personal query? And why would the readers want to know that?

A sense of discomfort settles over you like a heavy blanket, suffocating any inclination to respond. With both Jimin and Jungkook within earshot, not to mention the rest of the company, the last thing you want is to entertain such a personal inquiry.

“Jimin won’t be hurt when you confirm it’s me,” Jungkook boasts with a hint of swagger, his words dripping with playful confidence. However, his bravado is swiftly met with a sharp glare from your sister, her jab to his ribs serving as a silent warning against his overzealous assertion.

You anticipate Jimin’s tension, bracing for the subtle shift in his demeanor, but to your surprise, he remains remarkably at ease, a picture of calm beside you. His tranquility mirrors that of your sleeping baby girl, nestled contentedly in her seat beside you.

“If I’m being completely honest, it’s my husband, Jimin,” you admit, a sense of relief washing over you as the truth spills from your lips. The mere thought of anything beyond your bond with him feels inconceivable, a testament to the strength of your bond. With a soft chuckle, you give Jimin’s hand a reassuring squeeze, grateful for his unwavering presence by your side.

Lissa offers you a sympathetic smile, though her flustered expression betrays lingering nerves, hinting that the next question may be just as probing as the last.

“That leads me to the next question. What where you thinking when you fucked Jungkook?”

You release a heavy sigh, your eyes rolling in disbelief. “Is this really what people are curious about?” You wonder aloud, your voice tinged with a mix of incredulity and resignation.

Lissa’s nod carries a weight of understanding, her eyes reflecting a hint of apology, as if she empathizes with the discomfort of the question she’s posed.

“I suppose, in hindsight, I wasn’t thinking at all, which was undoubtedly part of the issue,” you concede, a tinge of regret coloring your words. “Honestly, I wish it never happened,” you confess, your frustration with the probing questions bubbling to the surface. Today was certainly not the day you anticipated having to justify your past mistakes.

“Hey, don’t go hurting my feelings now. Just admit I was the best,” Jungkook quips once more, his tone laced with playful banter. You sigh, a mixture of exasperation and amusement washing over you at his persistence.

“No, Kook, you weren’t the best,” you assert firmly, your words carrying a weight of finality. “This isn’t a competition, and frankly, I think you should be content with the fact that my sister holds you in such high regard and thinks you’re the best fuck. I’ve heard you on multiple occasions now, and that should tell you enough,” you continue, your frustration evident in your tone. “I’ve heard enough on this topic, and for me, Jimin surpasses any comparison.” A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you plead, “Can we please shift gears and explore some other lines of questioning?”

You tenderly reach down for your baby girl, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you realize she’s been peacefully sleeping in her seat for far too long. With gentle hands, you unfasten her belt and lift her into your embrace, cradling her against your chest. You adjust yourself slightly, reclining back to ensure she’s nestled comfortably against you, her tiny form finding solace against the warmth of your bosom.

“Um, I’m afraid there’s one more question,” Lissa interjects hesitantly, her voice tinged with nervousness as she glances down at her notes once more.

“Then let’s hear it,” your sister interjects, her tone firm and resolute, a hint of irritation seeping through as she echoes your own sentiment toward the relentless questioning.

“Jungkook, which sister is best in bed?” The room plunges into a sudden, heavy silence, amplifying Lissa’s timid voice to a jarring level.

Jungkook meets your gaze with a flicker of resolve. “I’m sorry if this hurts, but it’s my wife,” he confesses, his words carrying a weight of honesty amidst the tension in the room.

You chuckle softly, the sound carrying a hint of lightness amidst the heavy atmosphere. “You’re not hurting my feelings, Kook,” you assure him with a reassuring smile.

Jimin’s chuckle joins yours, a familiar reassurance in the midst of an uncomfortable moment. This topic, though fraught with history, is one you’ve all navigated together before. Yet, beneath the surface, a pang of regret lingers, a reminder of the choices made in the past. You can’t help but feel a twinge of sorrow for the choice made that night, for not giving Jimin the opportunity he deserved, and instead sleeping with his brother. But as you glance at him now, your soulmate by your side, you find solace in the knowledge that history led you to where you are today.

“Alright, my apologies. That concludes the line of inappropriate inquiries,” Lissa announces, redirecting her gaze back to you and Jimin. “On a lighter note, our readers are curious: How many kids do you envision having?”

Jimin’s smile widens as he intertwines his fingers with yours, a gesture filled with warmth and reassurance. The prospect of children has been a frequent topic of discussion since your wedding day, and now, with your first child in your arms, you feel a surge of fulfillment—a sense of readiness to embrace the journey of motherhood even more.

“We’re still figuring it out. But we’ve always talked about having more than one, haven’t we?” Jimin’s gaze meets yours, a soft glimmer of affection dancing in his eyes, mirroring the unspoken bond between you.

“Yeah, two sounds perfect. Although, who knows? Maybe even more,” you muse, a fond smile gracing your lips as you envision the possibility of a larger family. “Our daughter is an absolute delight, taking after Jimin in the most adorable ways. The thought of more little Jimin look-alikes running around fills my heart with such joy,” you share, your voice tinged with affection. You choose not to dwell on the exhaustion or the moments of self-doubt, knowing that with Jimin by your side, you’re capable of anything—and that includes expanding your family and embracing the journey of parenthood together.

As you feel your baby girl stirring, her delicate eyes fluttering open with a soft whimper, you instinctively gather her close, cradling her against your chest. Sensing her hunger, you gently lift your shirt and unhook your bra, offering her the nourishment she seeks. With practiced ease, you guide her to your breast, feeling her tiny mouth eagerly latch on as she finds comfort in the familiar warmth and sustenance. As she begins to nurse, her cries gradually subside, replaced by a sense of contentment and peace, her small form relaxing against you as she drinks in the nourishing embrace of you.

“Have you settled on a name for her yet? I’ve noticed you don’t refer to her by name,” Lissa inquires, her gaze meeting yours with a gentle warmth reflected in her soft smile.

“We’re still undecided. Right now, we’re torn between Haneul and Isuel,” you share, a laugh bubbling up from within you as you exchange a glance with Jimin. Your smile stretches wide, the joy of the moment evident in your expression.

“Both of those are absolutely beautiful choices,” Lissa remarks, her own smile widening in genuine admiration.

“What’s your stance on pets, do you want one? Are you more inclined towards cats or dogs?” Lissa inquires, settling back into her chair with a newfound ease. Her earlier nervousness seems to dissipate, replaced by a sense of confidence that infuses her voice with a newfound steadiness.

“We’ve actually been frequenting the local animal shelter lately, eyeing some of the pups,” Jimin shares, his voice carrying a hint of excitement.

“But just one dog will do,” you interject with a chuckle, a fondness evident in your tone. You know Jimin’s affinity for dogs all too well—if it were solely up to him, your home would resemble a bustling kennel alongside a lively soccer team of children.

“Yeah, there’s this golden retriever at the shelter. We’ve got our hearts set on adopting him,” Jimin announces proudly, his gaze alternating between you and your baby still nestled against you.

“Saja, that’s his name. I just know he’ll be the perfect addition to our family,” you chime in, your voice brimming with affection as you steal a glance at your husband once more. There’s an undeniable warmth in your gaze, a testament to the endless love you hold for him.

“That’s intriguing. I’m nearing the end of my inquiries. This one’s directed at Taehyung,” Lissa announces, her gaze shifting towards Taehyung who appears taken aback, clearly not anticipating any questions directed his way today. “Our readers are curious about your activities during your initial visit to Bell Ranch—the one that unfortunately resulted in Jessi’s accident,” she explains, her tone gentle yet probing.

As Taehyung gulps audibly, the weight of the past looms heavy in the air, a stark reminder that despite the passage of years, the wounds from that incident remain tender for everyone involved.

Taehyung’s hand instinctively rises to scratch the back of his head, his gaze dropping to the floor below in a display of nervous tension.

“That was right after my father fell ill, and I discovered he wasn’t my biological father,” Taehyung begins, his voice tinged with a mixture of vulnerability and remorse. “I drove out here to see my half-brothers—I never imagined it could be true. Having brothers, another family I never knew existed. It’s been quite the journey. Challenging at first, but everyone has been incredibly welcoming, and now, I truly feel like a part of this family,” he explains, his words carrying the weight of sincerity. “I still carry deep regret for causing the accident, Jessi. It was never my intention. I was consumed by nerves and anger, a dangerous combination behind the wheel. I’m truly sorry.”

Lissa and everyone else nods.

“I drove up to the ranch and spotted both Jungkook and Jimin hard at work, but fear held me back from saying a word. I left, like a coward,” Taehyung admits, his voice tinged with regret as he recounts the memory. “For months, I wrestled with the daunting task of revealing myself, gathering the courage to step into a world I never knew existed. I had a hunch they were unaware of my existence too,” he adds, his smile carrying a bittersweet tinge of longing and acceptance.

“Thanks, Tae. But you know, we’re past that now,” your sister reassures him with a warm smile, her words carrying a gentle reminder that their past grievances have long been resolved.

Lissa’s smile softens into one of fondness. “I have two final questions that’s been burning on our readers’ minds,” she says, her tone hinting at the anticipation of unveiling something intriguing.

All eyes shift expectantly toward Lissa, the air thick with curiosity. With your baby girl finished feeding, you carefully adjust your shirt and lift her to your shoulder, patting her back to coax out the remaining burps. As she emits soft little sounds, you join the others in eagerly awaiting Lissa’s final question, a sense of anticipation hanging palpably in the air.

Lissa’s gaze flicks toward Deiji, a subtle shift that catches your attention, leaving you puzzled as to the sudden focus on her. With a quizzical expression, you arch an eyebrow, silently questioning the reason behind this unexpected gesture.

“Deiji, you misled us about the baby, claiming it was Jimin’s. Can you shed light on why?” Lissa’s tone holds a firmness that demands clarity.

Deiji’s head shakes firmly. 

“I’d rather not say.” Her refusal carries an air of guarded secrecy, adding to the tension in the room.

Your blood churns with a mixture of anger and exhaustion. The truth seems elusive, buried beneath layers of deceit and manipulation. At this point, you’re past caring about her reasons; all that matters is the weight of her deception, pressing down on your patience like an unbearable burden.

Lissa’s voice cuts through the air with a sharp edge, commanding attention and respect. “You don’t get to evade this,” she asserts, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Deiji’s demeanor shifts, her body language a defensive barrier against the intensity of the moment, her arms wrapping around herself as if to shield against the barrage of questions and accusations.

“Fine,” she hisses, the word escaping through clenched teeth like a snake’s warning, her frustration evident in the sharpness of her tone and the subtle grit of her teeth.

“I was cheating on Jimin with my ex,” she confesses, her words dripping with shame and regret, each syllable heavier than the last. “He got me pregnant, and I knew Jimin wanted to start a family. But my ex... he’s not exactly father material,” she admits, her voice steady yet laden with the weight of her past mistakes.

“But why lie? Why not just tell the truth?” Jimin’s voice cuts through the tension, his tone laced with disbelief and hurt. His jaw clenches, knuckles white with the force of his grip.

Deiji scoffs, her breath heavy with frustration. “And what? Confess that I was cheating on you?” She shakes her head, her tone tinged with defiance. “Would you have wanted a child that wasn’t yours?”

Jimin rolls his eyes, a subtle gesture belied by the storm in his gaze. Despite the passage of years, the wounds of deception still sting as freshly as if inflicted yesterday. You understand his sentiment well: Jimin’s desire for involvement stemmed from a sense of duty and biological connection. Had Deiji been forthright from the beginning, he likely would have distanced himself from the child, especially considering their breakup and his commitment to you.

“It was easy. And I saw how you looked at her,” she points to you, her accusation slicing through the air like a dagger, “I knew you wanted her, bad. She took you from me. Coming back and announcing the baby, I knew I had you wrapped around my finger. I knew you’d choose a family, because you crave it so much. I hoped it would pull you away from her, and in the end, it did. But then you had to go back to each other again, so sickening.”

Jimin gapes, and so do you. You’re left speechless, grappling with the audacity of her words. You knew she lied out of jealousy, but to stoop so low— it’s beyond comprehension. God, you really despise this woman.

Lissa’s voice cuts through the air like a blade, her gaze fixed intently on Deiji again, her expression serious and unyielding. “Is this why you started the fire at Bora Ranch?” She demands, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the tense silence that follows.

A heavy silence descends upon the room once more, amplifying the tension as all eyes remain fixed on Deiji, who squirms uncomfortably under the scrutiny. Your brows furrow in concern as you observe her growing unease, noting the absence of any denial in her response. A sense of foreboding creeps over you as her fidgeting and nervous perspiration betray an unsettling truth: guilt hangs palpably in the air, casting a shadow over the room.

Deiji’s gaze averts, seeking refuge from the intensity of the scrutiny bearing down upon her. In this vulnerable moment, her once formidable demeanor begins to falter, unraveling before your eyes. The weight of accusatory stares renders her diminutive and fragile, a stark contrast to her usual air of confidence and strength.

“So?” Lissa’s voice cuts through the heavy silence once more, her tone firm and resolute, leaving no room for evasion or avoidance. With a piercing gaze, she awaits Deiji’s response, her expectation palpable in the charged atmosphere of the room.

As the seconds tick by stretching into minutes, each one laden with unspoken tension, Deiji’s continued silence becomes increasingly conspicuous. With each passing moment, the weight of uncertainty grows heavier, casting a shadow of doubt over the room. Your mind races, grappling with the unsettling realization that perhaps your suspicions were warranted all along. The absence of a denial speaks volumes, echoing your darkest fears with haunting clarity. You never wanted to entertain the possibility that Deiji could be capable of such an act, yet the chilling reality dawns upon you: people can harbor unfathomable depths, their actions often defying comprehension.

The seconds drag on, and a simmering anger begins to bubble within you, its intensity mirrored in the heightened tension radiating throughout the room. Each passing moment feels like an eternity, the palpable weight of unspoken truths hanging heavy in the air. You sense the collective unease of those around you, their alertness a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. The once-airy atmosphere now feels suffocatingly dense, pressing down upon you like a heavy shroud. It becomes increasingly difficult to draw a full breath, as if the admission of truth from Deiji has robbed the room of its oxygen.

“Just tell the truth, dammit!” Jimin’s voice cuts through the tension like a thunderclap, his frustration palpable in the rigid set of his jaw and the clenched fists at his sides.

His sudden outburst startles you, your heart racing as you instinctively check if it has disturbed your sleeping baby. Thankfully, she remains undisturbed, cradled in peaceful slumber.

“I…” Deiji’s voice wavers, her expression a tumult of emotions—shame, guilt, and a flicker of disappointment, etched vividly across her features.

“I did,” she finally confesses, her voice barely above a whisper, shattering the silence like glass. 

You rise from your seat, gently passing your baby girl into Jimin's waiting arms. With a sense of purpose, you approach Deiji, once a formidable presence, now visibly diminished in her chair.

Your blood is boiling, rage surging through your veins like a torrential river, and the world blurs into shades of red. 

Standing before Deiji, she gazes at you with pleading eyes, as if begging for absolution. But forgiveness is a distant echo in your mind, drowned out by the roar of fury. Without conscious thought, your arm swings wide, propelled by an instinctual force, and your palm connects with the tender flesh of her cheek. The resounding crack of the slap is so fucking loud it reverberates through the room, jolting you into the stark realization that it was your hand delivering the blow.

Your hand throbs with the heat of the impact, a fiery reminder of the force unleashed. 

Deiji’s silent tears blur the air, her trembling hand tenderly grazing the fiery red imprint on her cheek. Ordinarily, violence is an alien language to your spirit, but in the presence of this woman, it’s as if your very essence is twisted into a dark, unrecognizable form. 

Yet, amidst the turmoil, there’s a raw truth: you feel no remorse for the eruption of fury that crossed the boundary into violence.

“You fucking bitch! How dare you do that! First, you rip Jimin’s heart to shreds with your deceitful, conniving ways. Then, you have the audacity to torch my home?!” The words tear from your throat, a primal scream echoing through the room, stirring the air like a tempest. Behind you, the scrape of chairs signals the tense energy of your friends and family, witnesses to your unleashed wrath. With eyes ablaze, you fixate on Deiji, your voice a snarl, a wild beast ready to pounce. You want her to feel your pain, to taste the bitterness that consumed you in those dark hours.

As you seethe with anger, ready to unleash another torrent of fury upon Deiji, a pair of firm, reassuring arms envelop you. 

Instinctively, you lean into the embrace, finding solace in the strength of Jungkook and Yoongi. Their presence is a grounding force amidst the storm raging within you, a reminder that you’re not alone in this tempest of emotions. With their silent support, you draw a steadying breath, the heat of your rage tempered by their calming presence.

As your pulse thrums with the remnants of anger, Yoongi’s voice cuts through the tempest, a calm amidst the chaos, “She’s not worth it.” His words, though soft, carry a weight of wisdom, a reminder that your fury, however justified, only serves to empower the very source of your pain. With a gentle yet firm grip on your arm, he silently implores you to find solace in restraint, to withhold the tempest brewing within. In his touch, there’s a silent reassurance, a shared understanding that some battles are won not through violence, but through the resilience of spirit.

“She’ll get what’s coming to her,” Jungkook’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade, his tone harboring a quiet determination. With a shake of his head, he offers a silent vow, a promise that justice will find its way to Deiji, no matter the winding path it takes. In his words, there’s a resolve, an unwavering belief that the scales of fate will tip in favor of righteousness, even amidst the chaos of betrayal.

You shift your gaze to Jimin, who remains seated with your baby, his expression a mix of concern and unwavering support. His calm demeanor provides a stable anchor amidst the storm brewing within you. Meanwhile, your sister’s fury is palpable, evident in the set of her jaw and the intensity of her focus on her twins, corralling their energy in the bustling room.

“I’ve called the police,” Lissa declares, rising from her seat with purpose, her steps deliberate as she strides towards Deiji, her demeanor a blend of resolve and determination.

“I’m really disappointed in you, why would you even do such a thing? That’s so horrible.”

Tears continue to cascade down Deiji’s cheeks, her sobs echoing in the tense silence of the room, her once-fierce demeanor now shattered like glass. “I was consumed by jealousy, alright?” She confesses through choked breaths, her gaze shifting towards Jimin. “You have everything, and I despise both of you for it. I wanted her to feel the pain you inflicted on me, Jimin.”

Jimin’s breath catches in his throat, the weight of Deiji’s words hitting him like a wrecking ball. He carries the burden of knowing he inflicted deep wounds upon her, using her as a pawn in a twisted game of revenge against you. It’s a bitter truth he’s forced to swallow, a regret that gnaws at him relentlessly. If only he could rewrite the past, erase the pain he caused, he would never have entangled himself with Deiji in the first place.

“You hope you rot in prison,” you utter, your voice slicing through the air like a blade, cold and unyielding, the words heavy with the weight of betrayal and fury. With Yoongi and Jungkook guiding you back to your seat, you struggle to quell the tempest raging within you, fighting to regain control amidst the tumult of emotions.

You draw in slow, deliberate breaths, first through your nose, then out through your mouth, a rhythmical dance of inhales and exhales in a bid to rein in the storm raging within your chest. With each expulsion of air, you feel the seething anger gradually ebb away, replaced by a sense of calm determination settling over you like a comforting shroud.

Time seems to stand still in the aftermath of the revelation, an eerie silence wrapping around the room like a heavy blanket. The weight of what has transpired hangs in the air, palpable and stifling, leaving everyone in a stunned stupor. Then, with a jolt, the doors burst open, and two uniformed police officers stride in, their presence a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. Without a word, they approach Deiji, escorting her away, her departure marking the end of a tumultuous chapter and the beginning of a new one.

As you witness her being led away, an unexpected sense of liberation washes over you, as if a weight you didn’t even realize you were carrying has suddenly been lifted. It’s a curious sensation, almost buoyant, as if the air around you has become easier to breathe. A fleeting but unmistakable feeling of relief floods your chest, and you can’t help but feel strangely lighter, as if the darkness that once loomed over you has finally begun to dissipate.

“I’m deeply sorry. I knew all along that she set fire to your place, but as the writer, my hands were tied. I couldn’t reveal the truth to you. But please know, I’m truly sorry for what she did to you,” Lissa’s voice trembles with remorse, her face etched with genuine regret. She extends her arms, enveloping you in a warm, reassuring hug, her hands gently patting your back in a gesture of solace and understanding.

“I’ve wanted to tell you countless times,” she whispers, tears streaming down her face like silent rivers of regret.

“I get it. It wasn’t part of my narrative and story until now,” you reply, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips as tears blur your vision. You notice the collective emotional weight shared by everyone in the room.

“Thank you so much for creating me and bringing me to life,” you say, your voice thick with gratitude, as tears blur your vision, lending a poignant weight to your words.

Lissa shakes her head against your shoulder, her voice muffled by emotion. “No, thank you for letting me create you. You’ve been my canvas, a safe space where I could pour out my feelings—sadness, anger, pain, and happiness. Truly, thank you.”

You all embrace each other one last time, tears mingling with laughter, a symphony of emotions filling the room. It’s a beautiful, bittersweet moment, etched into your hearts as a testament to the bonds you’ve forged and the journey you’ve undertaken together. This moment, and all the ones before, you know, are truly special.

How are you feeling? 🥹 Yes, I’m crying. I hope this Q&A wasn’t too weird! If you still have some question, or didn’t get to participate in the Q&A when it was live, you are also more than welcome to send in an ask with questions for the characters— they will still reply in an ask 🙂

Thank you so much for reading this story and series, I know it’s massive. These characters are like my babies, they are very special to me, and I feel sad that the story is over. But I’m so happy with what I’ve achieve, and truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for reading and for commenting ✨

[tinyywriterr]

WHO WILL IT BE?

*+:｡.｡.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·.｡.｡:+**+:｡.｡.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·.｡.｡:+*

{Toji + POC Reader}

∘°∘♡∘°∘𝓒𝓗𝓐𝓟𝓣𝓔𝓡 𝓔𝓛𝓔𝓥𝓔𝓝 ~ 𝓓𝓔𝓒𝓘𝓢𝓘𝓞𝓝𝓢 & 𝓓𝓔𝓐𝓛𝓢∘°∘♡∘°∘

⟿ Song to Go with the Chapter: Off To The Races by Lana Del Rey [Toji + Reader theme song for this chapter] {literally like idk why I didn’t think of this song before}

⟿ Word Count: 4,900 +

⟿ First Toji + Reader smut scene | finally Toji fluff | Nanami + Reader smut scene

⟿ Summary: Over dinner Nanami asks Toji a question that really shocks you. They finally clue you in on their little scheme and you’re truly taken aback. You also somewhat come to the conclusion that you have feelings for Toji that same night. Around four months later Nanami decides to stay home just so you and Toji could go on a date together. Through out the past four months you’ve enjoyed having Toji around along with his son Megumi. It’s like you all are one big family which is something you could only dream about.

*+:｡.｡.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·.｡.｡:+**+:｡.｡.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·.｡.｡:+*

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: contains smut, pet names, fluff, cream pie, fingering, oral sex, dom/sub, light brat taming, fem reader, black fem reader/you, and etc. [please don’t read if easily triggered or not 18 +]

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𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: 18+ please & please don’t copy and paste my story anywhere else. This chapter is slightly shorter then the last chapter by about 400 words. Mainly because I wanted to write some sweet moments and some smut before shit hits the fan again. BUT ANYWAYS, this is my first tumblr fic so if you leave a heart, reblog, or comment it’s greatly appreciated! If there are any errors I am open to anyone correcting me in the comments, leaving feedback, or dming me. I hope you will enjoy this as much as I did when I wrote this!

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

 

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝐸𝒩𝒟 𝒪𝐹 𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝒲𝐸𝐸𝒦 | 𝒴𝒪𝒰𝑅 𝒫𝒪𝒱✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

 

 

When you woke up the next day and realized Toji didn’t leave so you knew Nanami was planning something. Throughout the whole week, all of you continued to have incredible sex and just enjoyed each other's company. Nanami finally was able to leave the house not worrying about you being home alone or bored. Along with being able to work on his bakery business having Toji around want half bad. Toji always took the opportunity whenever Nanami was gone to rock your world and when Toji would be gone for the day Nanami would do the same. It was amazing having the both of them separately or at the same time almost mind numbing truly. It was like the best dream ever but it came to life.

 

 

‘I wonder what Nanami said to him. I love both of them and could see a future with all of us together. But I could also just see me and Nanami together and inviting Toji over whenever. But there’s something about Toji,’ you think to yourself as you prepare dinner for everyone. Today you decided to make something you’ve been craving, Sunday dinner. It was something your mother would make on rare occasions or when you’d visited your grandmother. It consisted of baked chicken, yams, green beans, baked mac n cheese, and lastly some cornbread. It was kind of hard to find the cornbread box mix you liked so you decided to just follow a recipe of it you found online. You started early preparing the meal so it’d be ready around the time you and Nanami usually would have dinner. This is the first time you’ve cooked in a long time so you’re kind of nervous to see what the two men will think of an African American cultural dish. You plated the food and set down each plate at their respective spots before calling for them to come to the kitchen.

 

 

“Wow, y/n what smells so good?” Nanami asks as he comes into the kitchen waving the air to get a better smell.

 

 

“Fuck, I’m so hungry…” Toji groans as he takes his seat and digs in immediately.

 

 

“That’s what you get for not eating breakfast,” you tease smiling from ear to ear as you take your seat. Nanami sits down last rubbing your back as you begin to dig in as well.

 

 

“This is really good y/n! You said this was called ‘Sunday dinner’ back in the States? Maybe we should move there!” Toji jokes in between chuckles before returning his attention back to his plate. Nanami chuckles as well and starts to eat savoring every bite still lovingly rubbing your back with his free hand.

 

 

“Ya, it’s usually something you’d eat after church. My mom only made it a few times but when she did it was a cause for celebration,” you explain trying not to talk with your mouth open.

 

 

“This is really good and hardy y/n, you should cook more if you’re comfortable,” Nanami praises as he has finished his plate rubbing his stomach proudly.

 

 

“Where the fuck did your food go?” Toji says flabbergasted as he takes his last bite.

 

 

“I should be saying that to both of you,” you tease as you point at your food showing a still semi-full plate. Everyone erupts into laughter then soon after Nanami gets up to grab some whiskey from his office.

 

 

“I hope everyone wants a drink I already poured 3 cups,” Nanami says as he walks back with three glasses with 2 shots of whiskey in them. You and Toji nod thankfully as you both take a glass sipping on it and both of you puckering your lips after. “You guys are some wimps,” Nanami teases grinning softly before taking a long sip and not making a face after.

 

 

“You just like the taste. Grab me something to smoke it’ll go great with this whiskey,” You command waving at Nanami who shakes his head as he walks upstairs to grab you a cigarette. After a couple of minutes he comes back down and he grabbed three cigarettes. Nanami individually pass one to each of you before he lights your cigarette for you. He then passes the lighter to Toji to spark his own cigarette. Once the lighter found its way back to Nanami he lit his cigarette taking a long drag.

 

 

“So have you decided Toji?” Nanami asks turning to Toji lifting up an eyebrow. You stare back between the two men as Toji looks like he’s thinking about what Nanami just asked him.

 

 

“Yes, I have and it’s a ‘yes’. Now don’t try to kiss me or anything,” Toji teases standing up and walking to Nanami to do a very interesting brotherly handshake that Nanami awkwardly accepted.

 

 

“So…who’s gonna fill me in?” You inquire standing up and putting your cigarette on the ash tray. You have finished eating and picked up all the plates to put in the sink. You make your way towards the sink as you wait for an explanation.

 

 

“My love, me, and Toji made a deal. I proposed to him that we all could become a poly couple. I see how you look at him and how he looks at you. So, I asked him and he had until today to decide.” Nanami explains grimacing as Toji puts his arm around Nanami's back giving it a good slap.

 

 

You’re speechless for a second as your back is turned to them. You put the plates in the sink and stand there for a moment. ‘How did he notice? I mean I know I brought up the threesome but this is for real life crazy; it feels like Nanami can read my mind. Or am I just predictable?’ You question to yourself but you pull yourself out of that spiral turning around and smiling.

 

 

“So, that’s why hmm interesting didn’t see that coming at all. Crazy how you all didn’t feel like including me in the conversation but I’ll let it slide this one time. You should be glad I love you both,” you tease walking towards them both. “But Mr. Nanami you never cease to amaze me. I’m glad our fun doesn’t have to end and will only continue.” You add playfully then lean in and kissing him softly letting both of your lips dance together. You pull away suddenly kissing Toji on the lips as you palm Nanami’s dick only his pants being the barrier. You moan softly letting Toji slip his tongue into your mouth letting your tongues explore each other. You smile in the kiss before pulling away and palming them both. “Or maybe I won’t let it slide and torture you both…” you coo smirking deviously. Both men look at each other wide-eyed both wondering what you’ll do to them or not do to them. You pull your hands away swiftly and pick your still lit cigarette up off the ash tray and take a puff of it while twirling away from them snickering softly. “Nothing for either of you tonight,~” you tease loudly as you walk up the stairs. Slamming your door you lay on your bed and stare at the ceiling.

 

 

‘I can’t believe Kento would ask that question that’s so left field of him. And I can’t ignore my fucking feelings for Toji. FUCK, how will this turn out?..’ you think as you continue to puff your cigarette.  

 

 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*𝟦 𝑀𝒪𝒩𝒯𝐻𝒮 𝐿𝒜𝒯𝐸𝑅 𝑀��𝒦𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝐼𝒯 𝒥𝒰𝒩𝐸 | 𝒴𝒪𝒰𝑅 𝒫𝒪𝒱✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*




You wake up slowly rubbing your hand on Toji’s chest and your leg on Nanami’s leg as you all had a sleepover in the sex dungeon. Fully awake now you look at the two men sleeping like babies as they both snored softly. You stare up at the ceiling recounting how life has been as of recent. Nanami is about to open his bakery and Toji has finally moved Megumi in but sadly it’s only during the summer break. You slowly slither out of the grip the two men had you in and throw on a silk robe. You open the door quietly you walk out of the room doing the same as you close the door. You make your way up to your room and close the door plopping on the bed lost in thought. You hear your phone buzz and roll over to grab it. After getting up again fully with phone in hand you walk over to the big windows facing the backyard. You unlock your phone the time reads 9 am and a ton of notifications flood in. You have a couple of texts from Angel, one from Trina, and a couple from your sibling group chat.

 

You smirk softly as you open Angel’s it reads; ‘girl when are you coming to see me I miss you!!!’ sent at 10:30 pm ‘I know you’re enjoying your soft life but don’t forget about me!’ sent at 1:45 am ‘YOU ALSO GOTTA TELL ME EVERYTHING!!!’ sent at 5:00 am.

 

 

While chuckling soft you respond with saying. ‘You’re so silly I'll come see you sometime soon I'm gonna be in the city next week anyways!! We should go get drunk or something. AND BITCH THERES A LOT TO TELL!’ You send the message then go to Trina's message.

 

 

It reads; ‘Good morning girlfriend! What hairstyle you wanna do next week?’ sent at 11:00 am.

 

 

You respond with; ‘Good Morninggggg! I'm thinking crochet locs. What you think?’

 

 

You send it and swipe to your sibling's group chat with your brothers. You have tons of messages from Angelo they read; ‘You forgot all about us!!! It’s okay though I know you’re busy and a grown up now. I can’t wait to see you! Nanami has taken great care of us and I’m happy you found him,’ from Angelo sent at 7:30 pm.

 

 

‘Daran is forcing me to do homework tell him TO LEAVE ME ALONE,’ from Angelo sent at 8:54 pm.

 

 

‘Don’t listen to him enjoy yourself big sister we both just miss you," from Daran sent at 9:15 pm.

 

 

You laugh loudly as you read the messages and you respond saying. ‘Mannn Angelo do your homework and I miss you both very much. And could never forget y’all I hope you know I love you both equally. I can’t wait to see you guys too! I might actually come to you all but don’t quote me on that.’

Once sent you hear a knock at your door; “come in!” You yell turning around as the door opens.

 

 

“Hello Mx. Nanami, I am hungry…” Megumi practically whispers as he looks around the room.

 

 

“Okay, I can make you something what would you like?” You ask as you walk towards him beckoning him to follow you.

 

 

“Hmmmm, pancakes please..” he says skipping a little as he follows you down the steps. You both enter the kitchen and you start to gather the ingredients to make breakfast. With Megumi sitting on the kitchen counter he just watches as you make his pancakes. “You’re very pretty Mx. Nanami. Will you be marrying Mr. Nanami soon?” Megumi inquires leaning closer to you and waiting for your answer. He’s the spitting image of his father and Toji was right he’s not as loud. But having him around reminds you of the old days of taking care of your little brothers.

 

 

“I sure hope so wanna know a secret?” You ask leaning in closer to him making Megumi become wide-eyed. “I really love Mr. Nanami..” you whisper leaning back and smiling then refocusing on flipping the pancakes making sure they don’t burn. Megumi has a shocked look on his face clasping his hands together before jumping off the counter. 


 

“I’m going to tell Nanami!” Megumi teases grinning devilishly just like his father.

 

 

“Ooooh no you won’t! Also, he’s still sleeping and your pancakes are ready!! Sit down at the table,” You say shaking your head as you point towards the table. Megumi huffs and puffs as he makes his way to the table thanking you as you place his plate on the table. He takes his time eating looking around and savoring every bite. You sit down next to Megumi both of you chatting and laughing as he finishes his food.

 

 

“I’m gonna go play now,” Megumi announces once bored with the conversation and running to his room slamming the door shut. You can’t help but laugh as you stand up pick up his dirty dish to put it in a pile in the sink. Once the plate hits the sink you suddenly hear a door swing open. You whip around to see Toji beckoning you to come to the sex dungeon.

 

 

“He’s upstairs playing he’ll be busy,” Toji says raising a devious eyebrow. Rolling your eyes you walk towards the room still in your robe. As you walk in Nanami walks out stopping you to kiss your cheek before you both continue walking.

 

 

“I’ll be look out and I’ll whistle if anything goes wrong,” Nanami explains before closing the door and locking it softly behind him. You turn your attention back to Toji who’s already pulling his boxers off.

 

 

“Come over and relieve me brat,” Toji commands as his boxers fall to the floor. You walk over to him and he shakes his head. “Turn around and do it again. But crawl to me this time and take that stupid robe off,” Toji teases winking at you. “I’ll take you out after I wanna have some alone time with you. I already told Nanami he’s gonna take Megumi to the bookstore," he explains in a sincere tone. Within seconds you have already turned around and got on your hands and knees.

 

 

“I’d enjoy that very much daddy,~” you coo winking back at him as you crawl towards him keeping eye contact the whole time. As you get right under him practically under his balls he points his dick down to touch your lips.

 

 

“I get your mouth today, we did rock paper scissors,” Toji explains as you part your lips softly licking his tip. “Ughhh don’t tease me brat you know I can’t take it,” Toji groans bending his knees slightly to force his dick deeper into your mouth. You smile softly before taking as much as you can into your mouth. Your jaw still hasn’t gotten used to Toji or your throat so you're expecting to be a little hoarse after. You hollow out your cheeks before placing your right hand around the rest of his length and playing with his hairy balls with the other hand. You earn a moan and a buck of the hips out of him making you moan softly. You bob your head at a decent pace not wanting to tire yourself out. Toji had other plans like always, he grabbed the back of your head as he meets each bob of your head with a deep thrust of his hips. You gag softly trying not to make too much noise as slobber starts to spill out your mouth. The lewd sounds coming from you two was always so enchanting and arousing. You swirl your tongue as best as you can still trying to keep up with Toji’s thrusts. “Fuckkk y/n your throat is so good,~” Toji praises loosing his grip on the back of your head and beginning to pat it instead. You quicken the pace as you feel his dick swell and decide to grip Toji’s hip with your right hand. You try your best to deep throat as much of his length down your throat. “Such a good brat, I saw you roll your eyes earlier at me you thought you’d get away with that?” Toji teases slightly tapping you on the cheek with a free hand. You look up at him and wink making him melt instantly he whispers a string of curse words tilting his head back. “You know me so well beautiful,” he says between groans trailing off at the end. Toji’s dick twitches as cum shoots out of it making your eyes water and gag hard. He bucks his hips again making cum shoot out your mouth and dripping down to your chin and to your chest. You swallow as much as you could as he slowly pulls his dick out. You open your mouth showing the cum you still have left to swallow. Toji bends over and grips your cheeks lightly making you keep your mouth open. He slowly lets a line of spit fall in before bending up again and smacking your cheek lightly. “Swallow,” he commands while patting your head. You do as he says and then slowly stand up wobbling a little as your legs had fallen asleep.

 

 

“I’m glad I can please you, daddy.” You say smiling softly as you use your finger to wipe from your chest to your mouth seductively before licking your finger. Toji groans smirking at you before kissing you passionately and full of desire. You bite his lip softly making him grunt before grabbing your throat softly. He bites your lip back and nipping at it before pulling away.

 

 

“Fuck, get dressed I’ll meet you outside. Wear a dress a white one with a matching thong and bring a pack of smokes with you too,” Toji says as his choke turns to caressing your cheek softly. “I love you in a dress,” he says as you put your robe back on and walk out the door. Nanami and Megumi were already gone you yelled at Toji from upstairs that he could come out. You rummage through your closet looking for a cute white dress. You picked a short one that stopped at your upper thigh and was flowy so you could feel cutesy more than sexy. You walk back down the stairs and see Toji wearing black jeans and a gray tee shirt smiling at you.

 

 

"Zip the back up for me please," you ask showing your unzipped dress.

 

 

”You look gorgeous, breathtaking actually. We’re going to the horse track," Toji states as he zips your dress up slowly savoring the sight. "JUST TO WATCH NO GAMBLING!” He says before yelling the last few words as he steps away.

 

 

You laugh before walking to grab some white slip-on mules; “NO GAMBLING TOJI!” You tease matching his energy as you open the front door and walk to his car. You lean against the car waiting as he grabs his keys and walks out slamming the front door. “You need to work on that,” you say in a playful tone as Toji opens the car door for you.

 

 

“What exactly brat?” He asks mocking your tone and then staring you down hoping you’d crack.

 

 

“Slamming doors.” You say in between giggles as you get comfortable in the car, lean back into the seat, and with that, Toji slams the door making you erupt into laughter. You both make your way to the horse racing ring and Toji holds your hand leading the way. He plops down in a seat and you sit next to him. You pass him the pack of smokes before grabbing two out of it for yourself knowing you're not getting that pack back. You both watch the race betting against each other who would win; not with money of course. It helped him not gamble and it was like harm reduction and thankfully, it was fun to go out with Toji. You guys talked the whole time making each other laugh and smile. Soon all the races were done and Toji got up helping you up as he did.

 

 

“I’m hungry,” you say pouting as you both walk to the car.




“Nanami made lunch come on I know you get HANGRY,” Toji teases opening the car door for you. You plop in crossing your arms as you stick your tongue out and once again he slams the door. The drive home is quick once home you barely even wait for Toji to park the car before you’re running towards the house. You basically burst in making Nanami and Megumi snap their neck towards the front door. Toji runs in after you rubbing the back of his head. “She’s hungry, really hungry,” Toji teases playfully following behind you as you walk into the house.




Nanami laughs pulling your chair out for you as you plop down he pushes you toward the table. A beautiful sandwich sits before you with your favorite chips [insert your favorite sandwich & chips]. Your mouth practically waters as you dig in not noticing Toji passed you a soju to wash it all down. Once done everyone just chuckles as you lean back in the chair and your mood changes completely smiling at everyone. “Thank you, sorry Megumi you had to see me so hangry.” You say laughing at yourself a little Megumi just shrugs his shoulders chuckling a little too before returning to reading his book. Nanami rubs your shoulders making you lean your head back to look up at him resting your head on the back of the chair.

 

 

“You had fun today?” Nanami asks smiling down at you still rubbing your shoulders and giving a slight massage. You nod your head ‘yes’ closing your eyes and smiling softly back at him.

 

 

“I’ll chill with the kid you guys go fuck off somewhere,” Toji says waving his hand at you guys to leave. Both you and Nanami chuckle before you stand up taking your plate to the sink and dragging Nanami around behind you. “You see kid those two need help,” Toji teases making Megumi laugh. You both begin walking upstairs and thankfully Nanami didn’t forget the soju. You open your bedroom door closing it shut and locking it once Nanami is fully inside.

 

 

“I’ve been thinking about you all day..” you whisper leaning close to Nanami making him blush.

 

 

“Oh really? I’ve been thinking about you too you know. You must have something on your mind,” Nanami inquired before kissing your forehead. “Come lay with me let’s talk a bit,” Nanami commands as he lays on the bed making himself comfortable. You grab another cigarette for yourself out of the vintage cigarette dispenser and pass one to Nanami sparking both of yours. You both talk about mindless things and feelings as you drink your soju. Soon you are both cuddling into each other loving the private intimate moment.

 

 

“I have a question y/n?” Nanami asks softly in between kisses on your head as you snuggle into his chest.

 

 

“Shoot.” You say in a sleepy tone as you have drunk your soju way too fast.

 

 

“What is it you’d like to do? I feel like you have more to show the world,” Nanami says turning your head up towards him looking deep into your eyes.

 

 

“I used to sew my own clothes when I was younger I always enjoyed creating I just have to find the motivation,” you explain before kissing his chin.

 

 

“I can definitely see you doing that. If you ever want to talk about it let me know, okay?” Nanami says sincerely making sure you understand he’s here to help. As you nod your head ‘yes’ he slowly lets go before snaking his hands around your waist. “Why are you so soft?” He asks softly before kissing your cheek. “You said you were thinking about me. What were you thinking exactly?” Nanami asks as he whispers into your ear making a shiver go down your spine.

 

 

“Of you fucking me...I miss your touch daddy,~” you coo looking back at him. Nanami’s cheeks are flushed red as he smirks softly.

 

 

“Hmm, to fuck my princess or not?” He asks out loud pretending to think. You roll your eyes and turn away from him leaning back into his chest. You feel his hands slowly unzip your dress and pull one strap down. “Ooh no bra ah? Who was this for?” He teases as he slips your dress off leaving you in a white thong. “He must’ve told you to wear white. Toji has great taste cause you look delicious,~” Nanami coos before leaning you forward so he can stand up and strip. Once nude he slides back in bed beckoning you to get under the covers with him. “We gotta be quiet but that won’t be a problem will it princess?” He asks as he snakes his hand up and down your body. You both face each other smiling softly at one another before your lips collide. You have memorized the way his lips taste, how they feel, and how he moves them. You love every second of it moaning softly once he starts to caress your breast. Nanami shifts down so he can put one in his mouth as he plays with the other breast making sure neither was neglected. You moan softly as he does and continues to switch back and forth. Soon he snakes a free hand down to your thong tugging on it before he practically rips it off of you.

 

 

“You’re taking me shopping tomorrow,~” you say between moans smiling softly as he grunts in agreement. Soon he's feverishly kissing up and down your body.

 

 

“Of course, I’ll take you out to go shopping tomorrow. Lay on your back, my love. I love to see you melt underneath me,” Nanami commands letting go of you so you can do so. Once you’re on your back he hovers over your love spot. He spreads your legs apart propping them on his shoulders as he lays on his stomach. Nanami spreads your lips apart showing your glistening slick entrance gaping from arousal. “So hungry to be stuffed hmm?~” He teases looking up at you smirking deviously.

 

 

“Yes daddy please eat me out then fuck me till I can't speak,~” you beg as even his touch is driving you crazy. Not being touched after sucking Toji’s dick was like torture and they both knew that. Nanami chuckles before licking slowly between your folds and sucking on your lips. You buck your hips wanting more of him which makes him lift his head up.

 

 

“Patience princess,~” He coos before going back to eat you out slowly drawing out each lick and suck. You moan loudly as your clit begins to throb he chuckled at you as you bite your lip remembering to be quiet. Soon after getting tired of torturing you, he sucks on your clit slowly making you almost bite your own lip off. Your stomach starts to tense up and your legs tremble as you start to cum showering Nanami’s face in your juices. He licks his lips and slightly his chin before fully sitting up. “Spread those legs beautiful,” he commands as he crawls back on top of you. You do so and suddenly he swipes his swollen head against your entrance. Groaning softly he slowly thrusts into you inch by inch before picking up the speed holding your legs now. “Your pussy is so tight princess, fuck,~” Nanami whispers into your feet making your toes curl. He starts slamming into you stretching you and demolishing your walls what’s crazy is his full length wasn’t fully in you. You grab at the sheets trying not to lose your grip but fuck he’s killing you. Nanami chuckles softly before putting your legs on his shoulders and rolling so you're more on your upper back. With your ass, slightly in the air, he holds your legs to support himself as he’s somewhat planking on top of you. Your toes point towards the headboard as he slams into you slowly basically drilling down into you. Nanami has reached a deeper part of you plowing your cervix. As he does so he groans softly bowing his head more and closing his eyes. The lewd sounds of your bodies colliding alone were loud so Toji had to turn on a T.V super loud downstairs shaking his head. As he does this you have been rendered speechless mouth open but nothing coming out as your cervix is getting demolished. You let out a soft moan as heat erupted in the lower half you truly didn’t even know where. You clench around his dick as you cum your legs shaking as you slowly crumble underneath him. “You are so beautiful princess,~” Nanami coos between deep guttural moms. Soon his thrust becomes sloppy as he slowly descends back to fucking you in missionary. He bites your neck softly as he grips onto your love handles slamming deep within you and making your back arch. Nanami curses softly in your ear then says your name as he paints your insides white. Hot cum coated your cervix, your walls, and spilled out of your pussy making you moan softly. Nanami bucks his hips a couple more times before pulling out fully and falling next to you. “You feel so good princess I’m addicted to your love and touch,~” Nanami confesses in a breathy tone.

 

 

You smile at him as you crawl on top of him now laying chest to chest. “I’m glad I could please you daddy, it was really good. I love when you fill me with your cum,~” you say in between kisses. "I love you, Ken my heart is yours," you say softly inches apart from him as you both touch foreheads holding hands.

 

 

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

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Once again I hope you enjoyed this one and can’t wait to upload the next chapter! Also let me know how you guys like the little fluff and the smut in this one overall. I liked this chapter going on a little date with Toji likeeee. And for story purposes Megumi is like 5 or 6 right now. I’m so happy people on here actually like this story or smut it warms my heart. But, don’t forget to comment, leave feedback, leave a note, or anything truly. It’s all appreciated! ( v ω v)//

© ™TINYPROPHETT

[Please don't copy or plagiarize my work thank you. I don't own any rights to JJK and all photos are from pintrest or here I'll try to tag people if I can]

⟿ Link for my AO3 lovers: {also it’s 24 chapters posted on here}

⟿ Credit for the inspiration for the Chapter:

[legacygirlingreen]

Part 4 - Chapter 3: Graphorns & Phoenix // Sebastian Sallow x Reader

A/N: FINALLY finished the update for you all! Sit back for this one because it is a LONG one! Also I continue to stray from canon because... I don't really know I just want to. I really hope everyone enjoys and once again thanks to all the readers (old and new). HUGE shoutout to my main @strawberrypinky for helping with the smut. Seriously Idk how I'd have finished it without you... I love hearing from you all on your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc so never hesitate to reach out! <3 peace and love you all!

Warnings: NSFW content ahead this time! Mentions of blood, violence, death and almost! SA content also ahead so please be careful if you do not like dark content! This chapter is somehow extremely spicy (via flashback) and also very graphic so PLEASE know that going in. No Dark Seb content, but definitely dark Rookwood/Poachers!

Important info: I also use some Scottish Gaelic in this one along with a slang from the late Georgian/early Victorian era that was used throughout Scotland/Ireland mostly but also parts of England/Wales. If you need an explanation on their meaning/translations here they are ahead of time so it makes sense while you read! Also PLEASE if you have the time check out Francis Grose, he was such a fascinating writer during the time, writing about antiquities in Scotland as well as publishing a book on the vulgar slang being used! Always, there goes my scholarly loving heart for the day...

"Mo Leannan" in Scottish Gaelic is a term of endearment, usually used by men towards a lover, and translates to "my sweetheart" or "my beloved"

"Blow the Grounsils" is a slang phrase that was used throughout the UK. 'grounsils' are foundational timbers for a home, so it is a more polite way of saying floor/stair sex, or as Francis Grose explains "to take a woman on the floor"

Word Count: 14,000

Masterlist for series here: Sebastian Masterlist

Sebastian finally stumbled upon the gorge in which the last trial was to take place; he had come to terms with the fact that his love had been taken and may have to carry out her legacy in her honor… almost. Oh who was he kidding, he was not prepared to face the music. But for now, he didn’t have time to do so. Right now stopping Ranrok was the most important thing to everyone at large. Despite the nagging feeling he had to abandon Fig, and rush straight to find Poppy Sweeting and the grumpy potions master, he knew that if she was still alive and knew he negated his duty simply to rescue her, he would face her disappointment. 

“Ah, Mr. Sallow, I am glad to see you made it. I assume the Keepers agreed to let us proceed without Miss y/l/n.” Fig said, posing his statement as a question and he only found it within him to nod. The light was just about to make its ascent over the horizon any minute now. It felt strange for him to think that less than 12 hours ago he was standing on a piece of land he bought for the two of them, now, not knowing if she was even alive. He shook that off, turning to the professor. 

“So what exactly happens during these trials Professor?” he asked, still unsure how they began, only knowing that she often came back beyond exhausted, sporting minor scrapes and bruises, not wishing to speak of them. 

“No need for formalities all the way out here Sebastian, please call me Eleazar… as for the trials, they have all been different in orientation. This one however, I am unsure how we will enter. There is no portrait to discuss the steps to be taken. Given our friend is currently not available I reckon I will be allowed to help you more than I would have if she had been here. The only instruction I was given was to scout ahead before allowing any taming of magical creatures to fall completely to her.” Fig explained.

“Taming magical creatures? What does that…” Sebastian started, trailing off when he saw the sculpture on the stone behind them. The sight caused him to immediately shake his head before continuing “They can’t possibly expect me to-” 

Fig interrupted him, confirming his suspicions, “Tame and bring a graphorn to gain access. I do believe that is what we will need to do to get inside.” he explained, pondering a moment. 

“Aren’t they mostly extinct sir? Eradicated on account of their horns?” Sebastian asked, recalling the limited knowledge he had on the creatures. 

“That is correct, although I know of one that still lingers nearby. Further down the coast, a famed one still lives within a cave, known as the ‘lord of the shore’. However, he is quite aggressive, and they are nearly impossible to subdue…?” he told the boy.

“Wonderful. So I am to fight, but not kill a graphorn. Graphorns of course being considered one of the most dangerous creatures we know of, and what? Bring him here to open the door? He shall magically produce some key we don’t know of?” Sebastian said rhetorically as if it was all so simple. 

“It appears that way. I would go with you, but I admit I do not move as quickly as I used to. Graphorns are more likely to react aggressively when they feel threatened, and having more than one person nearby is likely to provoke faster.” Fig explained with a sigh. 

“Alright. I will go track down this ‘lord of the shore’ then. Merlin’s beard” the usually Posh boy resorted to the swear as he shook his head. 

“Before you go… and I apologize if I am overstepping my bounds… but you mentioned you were off school grounds yesterday.  Might I inquire where you were and what you were doing?” Fig asked and his blood ran cold. He knew that the man wasn’t asking to get him in trouble, but to admit to someone where he had been, felt odd. Knowing now it might have all been for nothing he decided why not let her closest aly and mentor be made aware. 

Sebastian reached in his pocket, grabbing the tome that disguised the ring boxes, passing it to the man without a word. 

Eleazar opened the tome, expecting to see pages, but was surprised to see it open to reveal two small boxes. It didn’t take a genius to understand what they were as he grabbed the more ornamental of the two, seeing the brilliant ring inside. Sebastian refrained from commenting as Fig passed the book back to him. 

He expected judgement or questioning from the older man, but was pleasantly surprised when he smiled at Sebastian. 

“I can’t say I am surprised, '' he said, his wiry hands playing with his own wedding band as he looked up at Sebastian. The two refrained from speaking for a moment. 

“I just need her to be alright. I can’t -” he trailed off, unsure if he wanted to open Pandora's box in a time of urgency and crisis. “I cannot imagine a life without her in it. She has slowly become my everything. My every waking thought, my main priority, my deepest longing. My strongest aspiration is to be the man she needs me to be. She cannot be gone. I don’t think I could manage to go on without her” Sebastian admitted to the man, holding back the tears threatening to fill his eyes as his fingers stroked the binding of the fake book. 

“If there is one thing I have learned, it is that her strength knows no bounds truly… as does her love for you. I admit, I was slightly surprised when she demanded to return to your side after being injured months ago, but after seeing the way you care for her, the way you boldly proclaimed the depth of your affection to your Uncle… I recognized that this whole time the flame she bares for you is no simple flame, but a raging fire. Ancient magic is one thing, but love is the true strength that binds us. Likely even now I imagine that love in which she burns for you, is what’s keeping her safe,” the man said, reaching a hand out to comfort him.

Sebastian’s eyes went wide realizing the teacher had heard his confession that night in Feldcroft. He chose not to comment on it, trying to let the words seep in and provide him comfort. 

“It is her love for my family however that led to her capture. If she had not been attempting to find a cure for Anne, this wouldn’t have happened…” Sebastian let out a frustrated sigh, pulling at his hair as he often did when he was frustrated, knowing that it was his own fault. If she hadn’t seen the depth of his obsession to find Anne comfort, she wouldn’t go to such lengths to sacrifice herself.  

“You cannot do that to yourself, young man.  I imagine Rookwood would have found her at some point regardless of your sister’s cure.” Fig said sternly, hoping to encourage the boy who seemed to wrongfully take on the blame for what had happened.  

“But-” Sebastian started but Eleazar stopped him, changing the subject. 

“I too, was quite young when I knew she was the one for me… I couldn’t have been much older than you are now.” Fig explained, reaching slightly into his tunic to pull out the chain which held Miriam’s ring, his fingers running over the cool metal. 

“Your wife sir?” Sebastian asked as Fig nodded. 

“Miriam, she didn’t particularly like me very much initially I am afraid. I admit, in my day I was quite, well, an arse. My friends and I were often quite loud, rambunctious and frequently in detention. She was always there, in the background of our classes, not drawing much attention to herself.  I feel guilty looking back realizing I overlooked her for so many years: would’ve saved me a many detentions… She loved the library, spent most of her free time there just reading for pleasure, or keeping to herself around the school grounds. It wasn’t until we were partnered for an assignment, and I spent time with her alone, that I realized how truly incredible she was. She had this wit about her, this amazing way of making the most boring topics sound fascinating.  I never liked to admit to my friends that I wanted to be a professor, or that I found the depth of magical theory interesting… but she could hold conversations that challenged me on an intellectual level I couldn’t truly comprehend. Suddenly I went from nearly nightly detentions to holed up in the library near her, reading in the silence. That silence turned into small conversations, and spending time together outside class. Eventually I was trailing behind wherever she went like a lost kneazle… why she allowed it I shall never know.” he explained, reminiscing his time falling in love with the woman. 

“I admit, that sounds familiar… ” Sebastian started with a smile.

“Oh believe me, the change in your behavior has not gone unnoticed.  I dare say, it’s admirable.” Fig said, smiling. 

“She just makes me want to be a better person. Hell, she had me getting along with my Uncle for a majority of the holiday, which I can’t say has happened in a long time, possibly ever.” Sebastian admits with a chuckle. 

“She mentioned as such. I did inquire about the safety of your home life, and I apologize if I overstepped any bounds. She explained the complexities of your relationship with Solomon with great care. I would like to say, if you do not wish to return to his home this summer, I will make sure that you do not have to,” Fig explained gently. 

“While I appreciate the concern… I do not think that will be a problem anymore… I already have purchased land, along with a house that needs much work I admit, but… it is mine. I was hardly planning to return to Solomon. Our relationship may be slightly more amicable than we used to be, but I do not wish to spend more time than necessary with him.” Sebastian explained.

“I understand. I just wanted you to know, should you ever need a safe place, that my home is open for you and her… I respected your parents a great deal.  I know it would destroy young Alice knowing that you were treated with the harshness you have had to endure from your uncle this whole time.” Fig told him, remembering the young man’s mother, and the love she held for her children. 

“I will keep that in mind if we find ourselves needing a place to go… the sun shall be up soon. I suppose I should be off.” Sebastian said.

“Of course. Sorry to keep you from your task.” 

“This has been… illuminating… would you-” Sebastian started, reaching into his pocket to retrieve the tome, “hold onto this so I do not damage it? I imagine taming a graphorn will not be easy, '' he admitted. 

“Absolutely, I would be honored” he said and Sebastian turned and walked a few paces when he heard the man call out “Might I ask why you chose a star?”.

“You may ask, but I do not believe I shall provide you with an answer…” Sebastian called with a chuckle before aparating away to find the beast he was to tame. 

To say the camp had fallen into complete and utter chaos would be a gross understatement.  The poachers camp had gotten from organized and orderly to a warzone in a matter of moments. She was startled upon seeing dark witches and wizards casting spells upon several centaurs, all armed with bow and arrow. The two groups continued to assault one another as several small fires burned within the camp, and smoke filled the air.  Shouting and battle horns filled the night and amidst the chaos she aimed to locate any familiar faces. 

That search was short lived however, as Rookwood shoved her back inside the tent, casting Incarcerous to force her into binds along one of the posts reaching a hand out of the flap long enough to retrieve one of the men who initially caught her.

“Do not let her escape or it’ll be on your head” Victor shouted before disappearing from her view. The man came closer, standing behind her as she struggled against the binds. 

“Oh would you look at that, someone appears to have scratched you Kitten” he said with a nasty smirk, bringing his hand up to caress her blood soaked cheek. She let out a shriek against the filthy cloth between her lips, trying to move her face away. 

“Would you stop moving!” he spat in her face. 

Reaching down he aggressively groped her exposed breast, making her squirm and begin kicking her legs as she attempted to get him to back up. He took one look down at her leg before he kicked her so hard directly across her]shin  she heard a snap, tears immediately springing to her eyes as he aggressively pulled her hair. 

“You are so easily broken kitten. Next time don’t test me. You are going to sit here and let me do as I please… same as you do for young Sallow you little Harlot” he screamed at her as she continued to cry, the pain from her leg beginning to take over her mind for the first time since Rookwood carved into her back. 

Suddenly she felt the ropes holding her to the beam released, however the binds on her wrists were still tied. She was forced onto her back as he crawled over her, and her eyes went wide in panic. 

“No, no no” she screamed into the gag but it wasn’t much use. All she could do was close her eyes, and think of another time and place… 

His brown eyes scanned hers intently, searching for any signs she didn’t want to continue.  They had decided to spend some alone time inside the room of requirement - as they so often did when they found a free moment - however this time had led to much more intensity than the pair had previously shared. 

“We don’t have to keep going, you know? I am perfectly fine to stop if you don’t feel comfortable…” Sebastian trailed off while his lower body continued to rock into hers.  They currently were pressed flush with one another, hips bones kissing between their clothes.  Sebastian’s right leg had found its between the pair of hers as she slid up and down ever so slightly on his solid and muscular thigh.  

Ever since the night in the shower, in which he finally felt the inside of her womanly walls with just his fingers, he couldn't stop imagining what it would be like to fully be sheathed inside of her.  Every private moment he had since that night was spent with his fist clenched around his manhood, imagining it was her velvety warmth surrounding him, pulling him in, instead of his hand. He almost always was able to release embarrassingly quick as he imagined the way her voice had sounded when he spewed the filth he spoke directly against her skin.  The way he threatened to put a child within her womb - something he had not realized brought him excitement to think about until that moment - became new source material when he was alone. 

Despite this deep rooted desire growing more and more powerful by the day, he still wanted any physical action they took to be by her guiding hand. If he was honest with himself, Sebastian hardly trusted himself to take the lead.  He knew if he did, there would be no stopping until his body got what it had been craving for weeks now: to be tightly pressed within her, until he filled her with every drop he could provide, all as he watched her come undone, squirming beneath him.  His mind would always go blank imagining the way her walls had fluttered around his fingers, and it caused him to become almost painfully hard to imagine what that would feel like wrapped around his length… 

“It is alright… I trust you Bash” she spoke with a shy smile, lifting her arms over her head to allow him to remove her top. Every time he had seen her in various states of undress it had been while bathing. Allowing him to do so now, although not a new sensation, however now without the guise of cleaning themselves felt different somehow. Knowing he would be able to see and feel her skin completely unobstructed by even water… 

Sebastian started to lift her shirt, moving it further up her torso until it pooled at her neck. Without warning he pulled it off her body completely, leaving her only in a thin corset as he brought his head down to her neck. Usually when he kissed her there, he was gentle, most often taking his time, and appreciated the soft sighs it drew from her. Now, she found him moving with haste.  She went to question it when she felt his teeth press into her skin before his tongue moved to coat the bite. His wet appendage soothing the area in which he had marked her. 

His kisses weren’t the only thing that seemed to have more energy than usual. His hips seemed to move faster against hers. His hands gripped her waist more firmly than usual, and if she had to guess, he might be leaving small bruises on her skin.  

His calloused hand lifted and he reached inside the cup of her corset, drawing out one of her breasts and squeezing the skin there almost roughly, as he moved his mouth down to suck her nipple into his warm and wet mouth.

It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the feelings he was providing… in fact if she was honest with herself, her undergarments were already soaked through as the young man seemingly knew all her weak points.  In their time together he had gotten much better at bringing her pleasure either directly, or by giving her enough of a mental image for when she was alone.  A small part of her wanted him to continue, to keep going until he had her fully naked and flushed beneath him, writhing as he continued this hastened pace while filling her tight hole with… 

“Are you sure? I just felt you shudder…” his voice was soft as he released her now perky nipple from the confines of his mouth, his breath making her shake. She looked away, wanting to avoid his stare. That did not last long as she felt his gentle fingertips abandon her breast and instead softly cup her chin. “Hey… look at me…” he pleaded. 

She always gave in when he used that kind but slightly commanding tone.  

“Please talk to me… tell me what’s going through that beautiful mind of yours” he asked, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, before running the back of his knuckle over the skin of her cheek.  

“I am just nervous that’s all…” she said, her eyes still not fully meeting his, as she felt him scan over every feature of her face. In fact, she found herself with her eyes locked onto the small white scar he had below his lip, apparently from a time in which Anne accidentally hit him in the face with a fire poker when they were young. She reached a delicate hand up, lightly using her thumb to trace over the faint white line that ran parallel with the outline of his plump bottom lip.  

“Why are you nervous?” he asked, in the most tender tone he could muster despite now being filled with anxiety that he had pressed her too far into things she was not ready for. He had hoped she would notice the change in his speech, but hoping for that was as useless as she knew him better than almost anyone. 

Eyes finally moving back to meet Sebastian’s, she kept stroking the small scar below his lip trying to ground herself before she continued. 

“Things have been… different lately when we have been alone. I am not uncomfortable with them, or with you, I simply…” she trailed off unsure how to word her thoughts to both explain her feelings and also not worry him. She had hoped Sebastian would speak up and save her from continuing but he didn’t. 

“How comfortable are we with having fully marital relations… At what point do you intend to stop? And if we continue, what will that leave for a future time?” she asked wearily, her face scrunching up as she hated to even ask him such questions.  In her mind, to commit to the extent of such acts would be to fully commit the rest of herself to Sebastian. Although she had no doubt in regards to their future… engaging in such physical shows of that was daunting to say the least. It seemed so adult, so distant yet physically in this moment it seemed possible. That fact was almost frightening. 

“At what point do you wish to stop?” he countered after a brief pause. She could sense the same inner conflict she was facing written across his features. The way his lips had remained parted, the way his eyebrows had drawn forward, the way his eyes looked both distant and close at the same time. 

She didn’t have a formulated answer for him.  The uncontrollable parts of herself wanting to keep going until they had done all that was natural… The other part wanted to wait. Perhaps not until they were wed, but at least for a time that could be special. She knew dinner was approaching and they would be rushing and she didn’t want Sebastian Atlas Sallow to quickly and unceremoniously deflower her, then go eat his weight in mashed potato surrounded by their friends as if nothing had happened… 

“I’m not… I am not sure… what-” she kept trying to get her brain and mouth to cooperate, however, doing so was proving more difficult than she thought as Sebastian’s hand had returned to stroking the bare skin beneath her breast. 

“How about this…” Sebastian started to speak but when he looked down and saw her wide eyes looking up at him, blinking so innocently and purely, he couldn’t help himself: Sebastian bent down and kissed her. His lips pressing down harshly on hers as he passionately filled her mouth with a groan before pulling away. “Sorry… I seem to be having difficulty restraining myself…” he suddenly felt very embarrassed, as his lack of restraint seemed to be what was causing their issue. Sebastian went to retract himself completely from her, when he felt a hand keeping him in place.

“It’s alright Bash… I am also having the same issue if I am honest.” She thought for a moment. “What were you going to recommend?” she asked, moving her arms to rest on his shoulders, her fingers playing with his hair as she let the weight of their situation evaporate. 

There was no need to be nervous: This was just her and Sebatian. They knew each other. They trusted each other. There was not a thing they couldn’t talk about. They would come to a resolution. 

“I was going to suggest… if you want to keep going we can always go until you are uncomfortable, however if I am honest with you, I do not know how well I will be able to hold back. I mean if you only knew the thoughts I was having right now… you’d probably be disgusted with me.” he said somewhere between shame and humor. The combination would be odd if he had been speaking to anyone but her, but there were no reservations at this point of their relationship. 

“Enlighten me then” she said. 

“What?” he asked, unsure what she meant. 

“Tell me what thoughts you have running through your brain. I want to hear them.  I can assure you Sebastian, they likely aren’t that different from my own” she said barely above a whisper as her hips rocked into his gently. 

“I.. I can’t.” he tried to reason with her, tried to get her to understand that he couldn’t. It would be the furthest thing from what a gentleman would do.  She deserved a kind, honest, man; not a horny, touch deprived, young man who wanted nothing more than to fill her walls with his release, despite not having any real right or claim to do so.

“Please” she begged, forcing his eyes back up into her own as she tried to get him to be honest with her about what he wanted. Except Sebastian didn’t know what he wanted that was within reason. 

“More. I want more.” was all he said with an exasperated sigh. 

“More of what?” she asked, perplexed by his answer. 

“More touching, more kissing, more contact. I want to go further than what we have been doing. More than even that night in the shower. I just want more of you. And I know that’s wrong of me to want, and I can assure you that this is not me asking you for such things. But every second since that night we shared that first kiss, I can’t stop thinking of claiming you in any way imaginable. Every moment in which I am next to you, it is all I can think of. Those sounds you make, the way you look as if the heavens have opened up right before me, it's all too much. How could I not have my mind filled with rich and colorful depictions of you. You lying beneath me, you lying on top of me, you standing next to me as I take you against the wall, you spread out across the desk: simply just you. Oh if you only knew the vulgarity in which I think of you-” he felt his whole body begin to shake at his open admission.  

Sebastian expected her to slap him, berate him, but he was surprised to see him eying his clothed chest curiously.  He was even more surprised when she slowly started to undo the top few buttons with one hand. 

“Hey, just because I told you that… we do not need to continue, in fact I do believe it is better that we do not fully commit to marital relations now.” he explained and she shook her head. He tried to reason with her, against his own body’s desires as she pushed the shirt from his body. “I mean it, I want to wait. I want to make things special for you. I don’t want you to feel pressured by my account when I know-” she interrupted him. 

“You don’t understand.” she spoke so matter of fact that it caused his eyebrows to draw. 

“Don’t understand what?” 

“The ways in which I want you Sebastian. You aren’t the only one who wants to feel the full extent of your length inside of me.  You think that I don’t want to give myself to you? You already have my heart, my mind, my spirit: how could I not want to give you my body as well? I have no concerns for the semantics but Merlin- it’s nearly the only thing I think about these days. How much I want to truly, irrevocably and wholeheartedly give you everything I am.  How much I want you to look into my eyes as you feel the full extent of my love.” She started in a similar tone to which he had spoken before.

“We don’t -“ he tried to get her to stop but she kept going as she moved her fingers lower, reaching for the clasp of his belt.

“You cannot possibly know how difficult it is when I see you sweating at crossed wands to not imagine you taking me then and there. How I see your hands clutching your quill in class and immediately imagine how they felt inside of me. You probably don’t even realize how I’ve gotten so well at rubbing my legs together to ease the tension under the desk have you?” She questioned rhetorically. 

She finished undoing his belt and the button holding his trousers. Sebastian hadn’t even realized she was already holding him in her delicate hands until he looked down and saw his length in her hands, blushing brightly and already leaking. 

“I agree that I do not think we should do such things now but trust me when I say that you are not the only one who wants to.” She said, staring into his brown eyes, trying to assure him that she wanted to go a step further. Not fully commit herself to him yet, but to find a middle ground in the meantime.

Sebastian wasn’t sure what to do. On one hand, she had already stripped him bare and she was nearly in the same position herself: only her uniform trousers and undergarments between them. On the other hand, he was unsure what this was leading to. As if she was reading his mind she spoke to explain. 

“I will tell you when I wish to stop moving forward… Can we please just keep going for now?” she asked, ever so sweetly and he knew that despite thinking this may not end well, he could not possibly say no to her when she begged him like that. 

Renewed was the sense of urgency and almost dominance in which he had before. Trusting that she would in fact stop him should she want to, he let go of the anxiety he’d had brewing and instead focused on getting her trousers down her thighs. It didn’t take long to push the offending material from her body, along with sliding her thin pair of bloomers down as well, leaving her as bare as he was.  

Looking around the Room of Requirement, he realized he didn’t want whatever was about to occur on the sofa of all places, so he stood, grabbing the cushions from the furniture, placing them in front of the fireplace, before tossing the blanket she kept in there over top of the makeshift bed he’d made. Walking closer he held out his hand for her, and she took it, allowing him to walk the both of them to the front of the fireplace. 

Slowly, Sebastian sank to his knees, pulling her along with him, as they both kissed each other while the fire crackled behind them.  He used his arm to pull her closer, wrapping it around her small waist. When her chest made contact with his own he couldn’t help but let out a slight groan, loving the warmth their bodies created together. 

His tongue entered her mouth without much resistance, as they both groped and grabbed at each other in the thrones of passion. Somewhere along the way he snaked a hand up into her hair, retrieving the pin she was using to hold it up off her neck, and pulled the offending thing out of the updo before tossing it as far away as he possibly could.  He then shoved his hands up into her tresses, collecting a handful at her nape before pulling it slightly so that her head tipped upwards to accommodate his tension on her hair. 

“I have told you so many times now, that I prefer your hair down” he said somewhere between a gruff commandment and a love drunk admission before continuing by saying, “All I can think of is pulling it, much like this, as I force my length inside of you, while I pull these beautiful tresses off your face so I can watch as you take all of me”

His words sent such a warm flash all across her body as she felt it almost painfully in her core.  The thought of Sebastian, pressing himself inside of her in that manner, a thought he seemingly had by his own admission, almost became too much. Almost. 

Her eyes immediately sought him in dire need, but for what for, she wasn’t exactly sure. She just knew she wanted him.  She wanted him closer.  She wanted him to keep touching her with the blatant need he was using.  She wanted him to keep talking to her this way.  To encourage him to keep going, she used her hands to grab onto his shoulders and pull him even more against her body as she flung her weight into his open arms, her tongue pressing into his mouth as she moaned against his lips. 

Sebastian didn’t even have time to open his eyes to check if she was alright before she had flung herself more onto him. Not that he was complaining however. He liked having her trying to get as close as humanly possible.  He abandoned pulling her hair, to instead cup the nape of her neck with his large palm, as he continued to let their mouths mesh together. Eventually he pulled away, almost lightheaded as he looked down at her with a hooded gaze. 

“Lie down on your back”, he told her and she humbly did as he asked, sliding off her knees and onto the floor where he had laid out the cushions. For a moment she looked up at him, eyes wide with anticipation before she followed his eyes as they tracked from her face down her body. 

She brought her arms up, attempting to shield as much of herself as she could from just openly being on display in such a vulnerable position but he quickly put a stop to that, as he moved to straddle her hips, collecting her arms in his hands, as he pinned them next to her face. Sebastian let go of her arms as he looked into her eyes. He could feel her body shaking. 

“Is this too much? Please tell me if I am being too much of a brute.” he begged her, hoping that she would be honest. 

“I wouldn’t say you are being a brute, but… perhaps we could ease up just a little…” she said weakly.  The comment about her hair, and wanting to enter her hadn’t been offensive, but it had definitely caught her off guard. While she realized Sebastian would never do so without her consent, and was likely referring to actual married relations, she still wished to dial it back some.  Not that she didn’t find the idea enticing - she did - it just should be reserved for a different time perhaps… 

“Absolutely, I apologize if I went too far.” he said,  shame filling his voice and she moved one of her hands to his waist and the other  to his cheek. 

“It’s alright. We are figuring this out together.” she reassured him. She still felt anxious as she could feel his arousal pressing into her hip bone, as he hovered over her bare frame.  

“Why don’t we just… lay here for a moment?” Sebastian offered after a long beat of silence and she nodded her head in agreement. Letting out a breath he seemed to have been holding in, Sebastian crawled back off the girl, falling to the space beside her in order for them both to situate themselves. He was almost surprised when she turned over, placing her head along his chest, flinging a leg over his hips, but he didn’t question it as he wrapped an arm around her waist. 

They laid there for a while, bare while cuddled up next to each other by the fire. Sebastian almost started nodding off, as the feeling of content washed over him much faster than he anticipated.  He always thought intercourse was the best part of being naked with a woman, however, laying here he realized that perhaps just to hold each other innocently had more appeal. Not that he’d know otherwise. 

What woke him up was a slight movement along his pelvis. When he looked down he saw her, once again moving up and down against his body trying to get some friction. Sebastian decided that it might be best for him to not say anything, and allow the girl to do as she wanted. Closing his eyes he let her continue. 

He didn’t open his eyes as she slid over him, legs going to either side of his hips. He didn’t open his eyes when she hovered over him pressing kisses to his neck, shoulders, chest and just about anywhere she could reach. He only moved to wrap his arms snuggly around her waist when she started to nibble on his earlobe, a feeling he would never get used to or neglect to enjoy. He didn’t open his eyes when she continued to move up and down along his thighs, despite feeling her wetness leaking out on his leg. He didn’t open his eyes when she stopped moving to pick up his length and stroke it - his eyebrows drawing as he was incredibly sensitive. 

He did however open his eyes, when he felt his tip pressed against something soft and wet. The feeling shocked him enough that he looked down to see if she had placed him inside her mouth. He was shocked however to find just the head of his cock enveloped by her thighs. He was pressed within the small area between the apex of her thighs and her womanhood, an area that had seemingly collected the wetness that was trickling out of her. 

Without warning she continued to rut her hips against him, sliding herself along his shaft, as she continued to leak all over him. Sebastian’s mind went blank. 

Sure he wasn’t inside of her, but she had her womanhood pressed against his length and she was getting herself off to the feeling of his manhood applying pressure on her clitorus - that alone made him want to scream in excitement as this feeling was almost too much. 

He looked up at her wildly, mind still blank as she moved and let out a cacophony of small noises. His mouth unintentionally fell open and he tried his hardest to not move a muscle for fear he would fall from between her leg, and this moment would end. 

He cried out when he looked down, seeing himself working open just the outer area of her body, the head of his cock nestled between her lower lips, from the unrestrained movements she was making as she worked herself closer and closer to release. She continued to move her hips along his own, using his body to get herself off and he let her. Something about watching the way she moved, knowing it was him and his body providing her such pleasure made him pulse. 

Without warning Sebastian suddenly felt a new sensation and he panicked. When he looked down again, he felt himself suddenly pressed against something he had only touched with his hands: Sebastian’s cock was lightly kissing her opening, yet not actually entering the hole. Both their eyes went wide, realizing she’d accidentally moved him that close to being inside of her. 

She realized what had happened in her uncoordinated movements a brief moment before Sebastian had, as she knew exactly where her body's opening was and how sensitive it could be. She recalled the feeling of Sebastian’s fingers prodding her entrance a few weeks back, and how he had stretched her. Now with the head of his cock pressed against the same spot, a spot she would one day allow him to enter in this exact manner, brought on a bout of shaking through her body. It was exhilarating to get so close to the edge but not go over it: especially knowing that at any moment Sebastian could thrust his hips and his tip would be enveloped inside her heat…

The unfamiliar weight of him pressing against her opening, as it throbbed with need. Need to get inside. Need to move within her body. Need to hit all those spots that had felt good under Sebastian’s fingers. Need to bury his load as deep inside as it could get. It was as if she could feel all of these things as they pressed together in this way. Her own body, also pulsating, with the same desperation of wanting to be entered, to be stretched, to be filled.

She stilled for a moment, as he looked up at her, on the verge of combusting. He imagined the pair of them looked quite similar. Hair damp with sweat along their hairlines. Blush covering now just their face but their chests and shoulders. Sebastian’s cock twitched painfully, knowing all it would take would be for her to push forward and he would be inside her velvety walls.

If you had asked him, he isn’t sure what exactly possessed him to do it truly. It went against every endorphin, thought and fiber in his being to do so. Yet, he cupped her cheek, forcing her to look down at him before he spoke. 

“This is almost too much truly” he squeaked out, voice very foreign to him. He meant it. As much as his body wanted to keep going he knew deep down this was about to get very real very quick. 

“It, it was an accident…” she tried to explain how they found themselves in the situation. She hasn’t meant for them to be this close to marital relations. She had just gotten carried away as she had been grinding along his shaft, lost in the feeling of pleasuring herself on his hard length, as the warm skin applying friction to her clitorus was exhilarating. 

Sebastian knew it was an accident, but that didn’t stop him from going slack at the feeling. It didn’t stop him from wanting to keep going despite knowing it was not a good idea. He took in a deep and shaky breath, hands abandoning her waist to run over his own face. Eventually he was able to settle himself the best he could while still being nestled that close to her. The pair had stilled when the contact had been made and for fear of what could happen they both remained with their hips pressed together in the same way. 

“Trust me when I say I would love nothing more than for this…” he trailed off insinuating what they both were thinking, “I can’t in good conscience do so without the both of us making the decision with a clear and level head”.

“I agree…” she concluded but didn’t move. 

“However… if you would like to keep doing what you just were…” he implied the rutting of her hips against his. He hadn’t expected to feel so close just from fucking her thighs and labia but the warmth of her skin, the wetness that spilled from her and the feeling of her movements was enough to also be getting him close to finishing, as it had been for her. 

She looked at him quizzically, almost as if asking which part he’d been referring to. Instead of speaking, he moved his hands back to her waist and lifted her hips just enough so that his length moved to lie, his tip touching his abdomen. When they looked down and saw it, leaking slightly near his naval, they sighed. He maintained holding her up for a moment with one hand by placing it under her thigh, then using his other hand to gently separate her lower lips, before setting her back down, this time on top of his shaft. 

Instead of waiting for her to move, Sebastian slid the girl's hips up and down with his hands, aiding her in dancing along his shaft for the friction she seemed to enjoy. They both sighed as she slowly started to move with his aid, her hands falling to his shoulders as she steadied herself on top of his body. 

Sebastian wishes he could say he looked into her eyes the whole time, but the way her breasts seemed to bounce and move with each rut of her hips was entirely too distracting for him. The way her body felt on his - the softness, the warmth, the wetness leaking out of her directly onto him - it was earth shattering. Sebastian could hardly imagine how incredible the real thing would feel some day with how amazing this felt. 

She also found herself in a similar situation.  She had never felt Sebastian’s hardness pressed against her front - it was always her back and usually the result of unintentional morning wood. To feel him tightly pressed against her pearl, sliding up and down on it as she felt the friction unobstructed by clothes, felt like one of the single most important feelings her young body had experienced. More so than when he just kissed her, or used his mouth on her, or even when he pressed his finger inside of her - this was so much better.  It satisfied her in ways she dared not to think imaginable. 

She found herself gasping when he moved a hand up to cup her breast, before kneading the flesh as he stared up into her face. The movement, the way he was holding her body, the way the Slytherin boy’s mouth fell open into almost a perfect “o” shape before his teeth snapping together quickly and his eyebrows drawing at the exact moment his cock twitched again under her rutting. Seeing the faces he was making, paired with the grunting sounds he had started to let out, no longer embarrassed to be vocal, she tipped her head back, unable to keep looking at him. The sights, the sounds, the feeling of his body under hers, it was too much. 

Her soft whimpers were slowly turning into louder and more uncontrollable whines as she felt a burn in her thighs from holding herself up, however she couldn’t stop moving as the pleasure it brought was better than the exertion to her sore muscles. Somewhere between catching her breath she managed to choke out “Bash, I -” as an explanation for why her thighs were suddenly shaking much more than before.  She only had a moment before she knew the exhaustion of moving on top of him would prevent her from continuing before she managed to finish.

Sebastian, despite not being able to put much of a coherent thought together, seemed to understand that her body physically could not move much more, so he abandoned groping her breast and instead reached to where she was rubbed against him, pressing his finger to the small hood there. The satisfaction of his action, almost instantaneous as she let out a shrill noise, letting him rub her clitorus with his middle and pointer fingers, all the while he took over from below as he moved his body up into hers. 

The strain of his physical action caused him to abandon his restraint in other areas, such as preventing him from the occasional grunt or groan leaving his lips instead of the usual more repressive sighs.  Even further, he found himself speaking incoherently to her without even meaning to, but once the words had passed his lips there was no putting them back. 

“You are a dream, Fuck-” he slipped in the swear amidst the phrase, but he knew deep down that he truly meant it. She looked absolutely radiant on top of him, her body flushed and glistening with sweat. Her trembling and voice calling out for him, and only him. Sebastian couldn’t help but bring his other hand up gently, running his fingers over her skin, as if to make sure she was real, that this was real. 

“You like this? Like how I am making you feel darling? Can’t you just imagine how someday you’ll ride me like this? How much better it’ll feel when I am pulsing within you?” he sighed as she looked back down at him, her eyes wide. Sebastian decided now might be a good time to speed up his fingers as he could feel himself about to release and he wanted to make sure she also reached that point of pleasure as well. So he kept going, since his words seemed to be helping her just as much as his hand…

“Naughty little thing aren’t you… almost let me slip inside you earlier… Do you have any idea how difficult it was for me to hold back? Not letting you do so, when all I want is to just claim you…” he said as she looked around the room frantically trying to find something to ground herself as she felt herself about to go over an edge. Sebastian saw her, reaching his hand up to her chin, pulling it down so he could move her face closer to his, kissing her passionately before backing away to continue. 

“Don’t worry Mo leannan… I got you… let it out… don’t hold back…” he whispered sweetly against her lips despite a strong want to shout something much more vulgar as he felt her tense around him then cry out, burying her face in his neck as she shook. 

Sebastian didn’t still his movements, chasing his own release, but he did softly caress the skin of her back and reach over to bury his nose in her hair, breathing her in as he kept going - the more gentle and romantic tone shifting back as he felt himself on the verge of finishing. 

“Merlin, I love you. I fucking love you so much. I love-” he started as he sped up, wiggling his hips with more abandon than before, despite finding it more difficult to, as she had sagged more of her dead weight into him as she felt the aftershocks of her release. The words he spoke caused her to pull back and look him in the eyes. His face contorting with pleasure, his brow damp with sweat, his cheeks bright red. He kept saying ‘i love you’ with more and more gusto as he kept going, as if the phrase became a matra on his lips until he finally felt himself about to start spilling against his abdomen. 

“I’m going to -” he started as a warning to let her know he was finishing. She suckled in a breath, and at the last second she moved herself to rise. Sebastian assumed she was doing so to avoid getting his mess on her, but he was shocked when he felt her fingers angle just the tip of his cock inside the outer area of her womanhood, once again resting at just her opening as he spilled with a string of curses.  

She felt his cock throb intensely as her outer walls were flooded with his release.  She looked down at him, as his usual refined speech had been replaced with vulgarity, and it pleased her to see Sebastian so enraptured by what had happened that he allowed himself to act in that manner. Once he finally stopped spilling against her cunt, she pulled back, watching as it all ran down her thighs, before collapsing onto the floor beside him. 

The two let their breath even out before looking at one another, knowing that they had gotten as close to full marital relations as a pair could. The internal warmth and happiness that radiated between them was unmatched. 

“That was wonderful” she said after a moment. 

“It makes me really look forward to the real thing.” he admitted before he chuckled and pulled her close to his chest, not caring about the mess in their laps. “Although I do recommend us not blowing the grounsils when we do attempt the unbridled version”. 

“What? Do you have a thing against warm fireplaces and soft cushions?” she retorted as she attempted to situate his hair.  

“I am not going to deflower you on the ground: cushions and roaring fire aside.  I plan to save that for a bed, more than likely a marital one at that” he said matter of factly.  

“So you have thought of deflowering me…” she teased

“Deflowering you… bedding you nightly… putting my seed in you… list goes on I am afraid.” he chuckled, because despite the joking tone he used they both knew he was far from joking. 

“Perhaps you are a brute.” she said with a laugh as he joined in, the two of them moving closer in the warmth of the firelight… 

A familiar sound broke her out of the vivid daydream she’d conjured in her mind.  When she reopened her eyes she was shocked to see the phoenix - the one she’d rescued at the recommendation of Deek - with its talons buried deep in the man's eyes as he screamed. Looking down she realized that her bloomers were in fact still on, and the man had hardly gotten far as the creature she had saved, in turn had come to help her in a time of need.  If she wasn’t so tired, sore and frightened she’d question exactly how it had escaped the room of requirement. Perhaps she could figure that out later. 

For now the beast was attacking the man, who sought cover by falling to the floor and crawling in the direction of the flap, using his arms to guide him. She sat up, looking around to try and find something to cut the bindings when the bird flew over to her, sitting on the grown next to where she lay.  It lowered its head, and initially she thought it was to bite at her restraints but she realized instead that he was attempting to heal the worst of her injuries with its tears. 

Poppy had explained the strength of a phoenix tear in healing injury but she hadn’t expected it to be so immensely powerful.  Looking down at the broken bone in her leg, she watched it heal almost instantly.  She removed the gag from between her lips finally.

“Thank you friend” she said, lifting her still bound hands to stroke his feathered head and he bowed gracefully as she struggled to stand.  Still weak from the torture and the other injuries she held, she attempted to manuver herself to the table in search of a weapon to defend herself with or perhaps something to cover herself, however she found herself still shaken up at what had transpired. 

As much as she wanted to just curl up on the floor of the tent and cry, she hardly had time for that. Knowing whatever was happening outside would provide her enough cover to possibly escape, she knew she needed to act quickly. Finding her wand was likely out of the realm of possibility, however perhaps she could discover where the man who had attempted to assault her, had dropped his. 

Falling back to the floor she searched for it in the darkness.  Eventually her fingers found the wood, and she lifted it knowing this was her chance. Just as she moved to cast a spell to remove her restraints she heard movement at the front of the tent.  Moving as quickly as she could while injured she turned around, aiming in the general direction she heard the noise.  

She had expected the man to come back after settling from his injury. Another poacher who had come to check on her… Possibly even Rookwood himself. Instead she was met with the shocked and not to mention horrified face of her potions professor. 

Lowering the wand she stumbled forward, arms crossing over her chest as she made her way to him. Sometime as she moved he called out diffindo, loosening the restraints so that her arms finally broke free, leaving only the nasty purple lines marked in her skin from the rope burn. 

As she finally made it in front of Professor Sharp, he had already removed his outer coat, passing it to her in order to protect the young girl’s modesty.  To say he was completely and utterly disgusted when he had pulled the tent flap back was an understatement. 

Aesop Sharp had seen many things during his time as an Auror. Unspeakable types of horrors - the kind that kept him awake at night. Seeing such a young girl, who hardly appeared fragile, broken and beaten, not to mention stripped nearly bare, enraged him in ways he had not imagined possible. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he would soon be a father, and should he have a daughter himself, the thought of someone harming a girl so young in this brutal fashion made him want to burn every single criminal in the camp to the ground. Seeing one of his prized students near unrecognizable almost caused him to gag, but the man powered through for the sake of getting her out alive, and without further injury. 

He tried to find the words but nothing truly worthy of the situation would come to mind. 

She rushed towards him, tears still on her face as she sobbed a quick sound he perceived to be relief as he covered her shoulders with his long coat. He watched as she pitifully attempted to fasten the buttons on the inside of the lapel, her fingers shaking wildly as she sniffled.  He took a step closer, moving his eyes to look up at her face so he wouldn’t disrespect the young girl, as he pulled the lapels as far away from her body, hoping to avoid accidentally brushing her with his hands as he aided her in closing his jacket. 

It hung off the poor girl's frame, going down to her shins and falling past her fingertips considerably. Given the circumstances it did enough of its job at covering her modesty, despite looking painfully awkward.   

“I fear we don’t have much time Miss y/l/n. The distraction that has been provided to us I imagine has nearly run its course. Unfortunately you are too injured to apparate, so we must make it to the nearby hamlet and use their floo network. Are you able to move on your own?” Sharp asked, removing a potion from his pocket, passing it to the girl before drinking the rest himself. He knew if need be he could carry her, but given the pain already flaring in his leg he hoped it would not come to that. He simply needed to get her out of the camp and find Miss Sweeting as the centaurs covered their retreat. 

“I… I think so.” she said unsure and he looked into her terrified features, noticing the girl had not stopped shaking and her breathing had become erratic.

“We hardly have time to dwell on the fragility of the situation-” he started as the girl’s eyes once again glassed over with tears and he let out a frustrated sigh. He could hardly blame her, she was young after all, but they did not have a large window to escape. 

“Se-Sebastian?” She managed to choke out, seemingly asking if he was there and the professor shook his head, letting her know that the fellow Slytherin was not in the poacher camp. At first he thought she wanted the young man's comfort, especially now knowing the depth of their relationship due to Poppy Sweeting, so it surprised him when the look of relief flashed over the young girl’s eyes. She simply nodded, happy to know that her love was far from the camp as they set off, casting an illusion charm to avoid unnecessary detection.  

She was wholly unprepared for the state of the poacher camp as they made their way outside. Flames licked every other structure except for the tent she had emerged from. Dark wizards casting various spells towards the centaurs who fired spears and arrows. It was much worse than when she had emerged temporarily with Victor before being shoved back inside. The smoke, shouting and all around chaos all too captivating as she stood there stunned until Professor Sharp emerged from behind her, parchment in hand, as he reached to shove them inside the outer part of the coat she wore. Once stowed, he reached a large and calloused hand out, retrieving one of hers as he pulled her along as quickly as his injured leg would allow them.  

They didn’t make it very far before their spell was dropped and he pushed her behind him, her eyes falling on his waistcoat clasp as she heard Victor’s voice call out into the night. 

“And just where do you think you’re going?” he asked as she peaked her face around from behind the professor, the stolen wand she held pointed out. She refused to go back there. She refused to let this man walk away given all the pain he had caused Sebastian and his family. 

Professor Sharp instead spoke for her, “Torturing young girls, defiling them, Victor? That’s low, even for the likes of you” he seethed, not truly caring what the criminal would say. He was simply ready to get them out of the danger as quickly as possible. 

“I would hardly say I have defiled her more than that Sallow boy has. Perhaps you need to keep a better eye on your students, Aesop” Victor replied, not a shred of worry evident in his tone. 

“This has gone far enough. We are leaving.” Sharp was not in the mood to play games and he wasn’t below blasting his way out of the camp should it be necessary. 

“Oh please, that girl is hardly the delicate flower in which she pretends to be. If you could only see what she is capable of…” Victor alluded to her power and she began to feel herself grow more and more angry by the second.  As the two began to argue, she sensed her wand’s presence close by - the thunderbird tail feather core calling out to her like a homing beacon. Using the one she had stolen, she took advantage of the two men being distracted long enough to call out Expelliarmus, looking up happily as it flew from Rookwood’s pocket back into her outstretched hand. 

She dropped the wand she had stolen, suddenly feeling happy being reunited with the wand that seemingly understood her intentions better than herself. Immediately upon feeling it safely back in her own hands, she felt it vibrate, its almost sentience had always perplexed but delighted her. She did not however have much time to ponder this, as the professor was once again pushing her out of the way of Rookwood’s curses and hexes. 

“Y/n!” a voice called out from behind her, as Poppy Sweeting emerged from the battle being accompanied by Dorran. The girl felt Poppy’s arms go around her frame and squeeze her. Despite the pain it caused she was more than glad to see she was alright. 

“Anne, did you get to Anne?” she asked and Poppy nodded. 

“Yes I did. Solomon was furious, but Anne is safety at Hogwarts and the matron is looking over the book now. Perhaps she’s even healed already.” Poppy said slightly breathless as the fight must’ve taken energy from her. It was then the Hufflepuff looked over her beaten frame, eyes softening as she looked at her. 

“What did they do to you?” Poppy asked with a sad tone and wobbly lip, finally seeing the extent of the scar forming across her face and the visible marks. Above the girls a flash of red moved down, landing on a nearby piece of debris as Poppy turned stunned to see the bird. 

“Right now that hardly matters… Solomon knew what Rookwood did to Anne. That’s why he was insistent on Sebastian and I giving up searching for a cure.” she explained, looking up to see Sharp and Rookwood hurling curses at one another. Once again her blood boiling at the reminder he intended initially to hurt her love, and still likely would, given the chance. She refused to give him that chance. 

Walking forward before Poppy could stop her, she watched as one of the curses sent Professor Sharp stumbling back slightly. She moved her body in front of the professors, lifting the wand to stare down Victor. 

“Finally come to fight your own battles little one?” he taunted and she didn’t respond. Lifting a wand she attempted to send him flying backwards with bombarda, only to have him block the curse. 

“I will admit, you have a spark, but it's not going to be enough to protect that boy. It was always supposed to be him. And once we are done here it will be…” he threatened and that was all it took for her to lunge at him, magic neglected for a moment, as she threw as much of her body weight as she could into her fist. 

The satisfying ‘pop’ that echoed throughout the night as it collided with his nose startling everyone from Professor Sharp, to Poppy, even some of the centaurs close by.  Everything else in the camp died down for a moment as everyone came to watch her and Rookwood. She backed up only a few steps giving him room as his nose started to bleed. 

“You dirty little harlot!” he seethed as she stared at him from only a few paces away, wand raised ready for his attack. 

“Wasn’t it you who said that sometimes it's more fun to use your hands instead of magic Victor?” she retorted, remembering what he had said before he had carved into her face. The burning feeling of her now split knuckles only making her feel more energized.  

“You are going to regret that when I get a hold of Sallow do you understand girl? He is going to suffer just as his uncle had initially intended, and then some for your insolence.” he threatened. She did not see the reactions of her companions but the gasp taken in by Poppy drew the attention of Professor Sharp as he realized there was no getting between the Slytherin girl, so best to protect the hufflepuff. 

Calmly she stared down the man, watching as his fingers tightened around the hilt of his dark wand and she felt her own wand warm within her hand. Intuitions correct, she cast expelliarmus as Victor raised and fired his own. 

Expelliarmus. Avada Kedavra. 

Trusting her wand, she let its aim guide her, as its red bolt crossed with Rookwood’s green - a bright light emerging where their wands had crossed. 

She had never actually had her magic cross anothers, so initially she felt overwhelmed, certain he would win out this battle as the fatigue set in and he pushed it closer to her. She knew that if he prevailed she would cease to be.  Trying to steady herself as much as possible, she pushed back, recalling Sebastian’s smiling face and brown eyes, as she kept pushing him back. Their crossed section thus flying back more towards the center between them. 

Eventually Rookwood himself needed to drop the spell, no longer able to hold on. The two of them slid back slightly as they had successfully repelled each other. Using the opportunity she fired upwards quickly, not allowing him a second to rest, before summoning a beam from the sky, drawing it down upon him as he barely had time to react. He only partially deflected the ancient magic, leaving his usually regal robes scorched. 

Victor’s eyes went wide, realizing that despite all the injury, she still had enough power to obliterate him. Once again they stared each other down as everyone else watched, ready to continue fighting or run depending on who walked away victorious. Professor Sharp looked at the two, worried having already seen him use the killing curse once, but knowing if he stepped in that he could accidentally cause her harm by distracting her, or worse make his pregnant wife a widow and his unborn child fatherless. 

She felt wave after wave of rage within her, but knew that with her former auror professor behind her she could not resort to the unforgivables, despite wanting to. She could continue to use spells she knew, or she could keep using ancient magic. But one thing was for certain, she would not allow Victor Rookwood to walk away even if it was the last thing she did.  

“I am not leaving without my birthright! Damn the Sallows, I want what is mine!” he began to shout, once again casting hexes her way as she moved to defend them. 

“Charles Rookwood would’ve wanted you nowhere near that magic! As for the Sallows, you shall not go near them ever again. I will make sure of it.” she responded, anger finally seeping out as she stopped the last of his hexes. 

“The arrogance of a child!” he screamed, once again firing at her, her wand moving instinctively to stop it. This time, not with the use of a spell, but her ancient magic. Blue and Green streams of magic, crossing in the center. Hers not visible to the naked eye, only in the spot that theirs crossed could anyone see what she had done. 

Unlike the previous attempt, her ancient magic was much stronger than simply a disarming charm. She could feel it physically flowing from her, instead of just the air around her. It burned. It burned with power. It burned with her anger. It burned with her pain. It burned with her love for Sebatian Sallow. 

Deep down she knew Rookwood would not walk away.

She watched as it crept closer and closer to the man, as she pushed him back further and further. With each push of the magic she stepped closer as well. Rookwoods hat had been knocked off during the fight and as she made her way to him she could see every detail of his face. The crows feet near his eyes, the slightly grayish blond scruff on his cheeks, his cropped sandy hair damp with sweat along his hairline. Most importantly: she saw the fear in his eyes. 

After all the pain this man had caused she spared little in the way of remorse. Often she would consider herself to be a nonviolent person. She frequently seemed to have to settle Sebastian from wanting to start an altercation with people like Leander or his uncle. If possible with invisibility charms and potions, she tried to avoid using violence even on poachers, dark wizards and even goblins.  Yet this man, she could not help but want to watch as the light left his eyes. 

For all the pain he’d caused Anne Sallow. Every cry in which she witnessed at the girl’s expense filled her ears. For every argue she bore witness to between Sebastian and Solomon. For every night Sebastian had cried in her arms, feeling helpless to save his twin sister, frightened to face the idea that his last remaining family would be stripped away from him. The way his tears had filled her hair as he sobbed, his strong limbs going slack around her. For every frustration she held knowing that Rookwood just as easily wanted to harm him instead. It all came to a breaking point. 

Rookwood fell back, shoving the magic into the air by some miracle of merlin as he struggled along the ground to catch his breath. 

“I promise to stay away from the Sallows! I can tell you how to heal the girl! I promise, please just let me go!” he begged. How pathetic, she couldn’t help but think. 

Not her proudest moment, but she moved to her knees, crouching, then grabbing his coat lapel and shoving the tip of her wand under his chin, “Tell me then. How do I save Anne?” she asked, not feeling very inclined to believe him, but asking regardless. 

“She simply needs the counter curse, I have it written-” he started, frantically trying to appeal to her better nature as he continued to beg. 

“In the journal I stole.” she stated and he nodded, seeming to believe that he’d won her over. As she loosened her grasp. 

“Unfortunately Victor, that means you have no value to me.” she stated, pushing him back to the ground as she raised her wand once more. His eyes grew wide as he made one last attempt to kill her in order to spare himself. 

For the magical creatures. For Dorran and his tribe. For the people of the highlands. For Anne. For her heart and soul: Sebastian Sallow.

In the end her ancient magic pushed the killing curse forward, consuming his body with a dramatic flash of blue, visible to everyone around despite being a magic she alone could see regularly.  Instead of falling to the ground limp and gray, it was as if every fiber of him evaporated into dust, as the area where Victor once stood was replaced with ash. 

At this she fell, the centaurs once again raising their bows as the poachers and wizards within the camp began to apparate away or continue fighting. She could feel Professor Sharp's arms pulling her as she stood there stunned. Her face, she realized, was wet with tears and her body seemed unresponsive as he went to retrieve her. Collapsing into the man, the pain, exhaustion and emotion taking over. She had little fight left in her as he lifted her, despite the protest in his leg and set off to Feldcroft, hoping he could make it back before her injury set in. 

“I’m sorry” she said quietly into the man’s chest as he carried her, Poppy Sweeting lingering close by as Dorran and his second in command lingered to protect their escape. 

“Do not apologize. You are quite brave. Makings of a fine Auror if you ask me” he said, hoping to keep the girl awake, for fear if she closed her eyes she may not wake up. He quickened his pace, knowing he needed to get her back to the school, and quickly. 

“Sebastian?” she asked pitifully.

“I will find Mr. Sallow I assure you. And I will also be speaking with his uncle on the matter of conspiring with a known criminal. Solomon shall pay for what he has done…” he said sternly and she nodded. 

“I- thank you for rescuing me Professor Sharp” she muttered quietly and he looked down at her broken face, covered in soot and dried blood. 

“I dare say you did most of that yourself. Do me a favor and keep talking please.” he said, sensing that she was only a few seconds from nodding off entirely. 

“About what?” she mumbled 

“Anything you’d like.” he responded, shifting her weight the best he could as he felt the pain in his leg beginning to hurt more. “You’ve been such a wonderful influence on Sebastian, I hope you realize that. He seemed very… misguided before you arrived.” he admitted. Aesop recounted the conversations he had in private between himself and the other faculty, and how the girl in his arms seemed to have brought the boy back from the brink of falling victim to something dark. 

“I love him.” she said simply, through clenched teeth. 

“I think it's admirable.  So often we are willing to do anything for those we love.” Aesop recounted, thinking of his wife and how angry he had been when he met her. How he too was headed down a dark road searching for a cure, and only Rebecca had pulled him back to his senses. 

“It hurts” she admitted as a tear leaked out of the corner of her good eye and he softened, pulling her close as he picked up the pace once again. 

“I know, we are nearly there… I’ve got you. I promise.” he said, breaking out into a sprint as he saw the Floo Flame.

Sebastian had never quite felt adrenaline like this before.  Currently plowing through the highlands, running through the dirt paths at top speed as he barreled back towards the gorge with the last trial’s entrance he felt unstoppable. 

Subduing the Graphorn was much easier than he had anticipated. Luckily, Sebastian had always preferred fire spells, and with the ability to hurl them from a distance he did so for a while, until the beast charged at him. Given the opportunity, he remembered the words of his love, explaining how many creatures liked to be shown respect. He wasn’t sure what entirely possessed him to kneel instead of continuing fighting it, but he’s glad he did.

Suddenly the graphorn hauled in front of him, bowing back in respect, before allowing him to mount it’s back, by some miracle of Merlin he assumed. That led him to where he was : rushing into a group of goblins who were wielding that stolen magic in his direction. They hardly stood a chance as the majestic creature he currently controlled barreled through them all. 

Before long he found himself back at the entrance of the cave, Lord of the Shore standing up on its hind legs as he held on the best he could, watching as the entrance opened for him. Sliding off the creature's back, he gave it a gentle caress along its nose, as if to say “thank you” before stepping inside the opening that had only recently appeared. 

Inside he was taken back by the grandeur. The same architecture that filled the map chamber was inside. The beautiful swirls of blue, gold and bronze amazed him, knowing that some place so unassuming housed such splendor. After following the passageway, he finally came to an open chamber, seeing a portrait at the end. 

“Mr. Sallow, it appears you have successfully completed my trial. Only those who are worthy enough to gain the trust of such a strong and wonderful creature are allowed entrance. Perhaps… I misjudged your character.” San Bakar said as he looked down at the young man. 

“Your trial is over?” Sebastian asked, very confused. He was expecting to have to fight the large statues that his love described, and as he imagined he wouldn’t be able to see them.  To hear that Bakar’s only challenge was entrance was a shock to him to say the least. 

“I hardly see the point in nearly killing someone for the sake of understanding this magic. Although the memory you are about to witness will likely make little sense to you Mr. Sallow, you should do your best to remember as much as you can for your companions sake. Then take the pensieve artifact back to the map chamber. You will need to apparate as Niamh explained.” San Bakar said before leaving the portrait frame, signaling for Sebastian to head inside the chamber. 

Once he stepped in the main room, he saw the giant marble statue of the man, and as he came closer a tear spilled from the statue's eye, into the pensieve basin.  From the liquid rose a shard of something, in which he retrieved and pocketed for later, before moving to watch the memory from the late professor. 

As he watched the memory, seeing how Isadora began siphoning pain from even young students, allowing the large and corrupted magic to grow, made Sebastian nauseous to think that he had been begging for his love to do the same to Anne. Following the discovery of the last memory from Isadora he had considered what Isadora was doing to be the solution to Anne’s illness, now realizing it had much more sincestor consequences he refused to further ask her of such or allow Anne to suffer this fate. 

Removing himself from the basin, he looked around one final time before finding himself in Professor Fig and the other Portraits company.  

“Ah Mr. Sallow, I see you were successful in your completion of the final trial. Your love shall be proud.” Niamh spoke and he nodded, a small smile working on his face at the thought she would be thrilled to know he had gone in her honor and done so correctly. 

“What you have been shown young man, I hope you are able to properly articulate to your companion the gravity to which this magic holds. Given your abilities I would also recommend that once she is returned safely and begins to be taught how to wield this magic, that you will remain as one of her keepers. This is a legacy to be passed on, and when the time comes she shall need to formulate her own trusted allies to protect it.” Professor Rackham spoke to him. 

“I will. I must admit… I have not always had the most pure intentions with this magic. From what I have been told, I had grown to not fully trust your methods. Isadora left her own memories that we discovered via a tryptic. I now realize that Isadora, while having good intentions, was misguided in her practices.  I shalt let her fall into that with what I have now seen. You have my word.” Sebastian spoke honestly as the look of shock took their faces, before a small smile took over Professor Fig’s face, proud of the boy for not only his skill, but his maturity. 

“Regardless, there is still more work to be done now. The final repository, the one you saw in the memory is guarded. To gain entrance you will need a wand, composed of the artifacts discovered, to get inside. Professor Fig has the other 3 shards, and as we were discussing has already sent an owl to a wand maker. You are to go and give him the pieces then wait for him to construct the final product before returning here” Professor Rackham spoke and Sebatian sighed. 

Yet another errand for these Keepers when he didn’t even know if she was alive. Surely by now if she was, she would have been rescued. 

Professor Fig looked at him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know you want to see if she is okay, but this is more important, you understand that right Sebastian?” he asked.

“I do. I just need to know if she’s alive” Sebastian admitted, finally feeling more of the weight of the situation pressing on his heartstrings. 

“I shall go see what I can learn from the other professors. Perhaps Aesop is back already. Regardless, this wand is a high priority. Go to Olivanders and I will learn more of what has happened to our friend… would you like this back?” Fig asked him, retrieving the tome and Sebastian nodded. It felt comforting to have it back in his possession. 

“I will go to Hogsmeade and then return when the wand is completed. Shall we meet near your classroom Professor?” Sebastian asked and Fig nodded, heading out to learn more about their friend. 

“Sebastian -” Fig started just as he was about to apparate out of the map chamber, stopping him, as the man returned to the space next to him. 

“Yes sir?” he asked perplexed 

“Is there anything I should convey to your sister or Miss y/l/n should I see either of them?” Fig offered the chance for Sebastian to let either of them know he was alright. 

“Tell Anne that I shall come and see her as soon as I can. I hope that whatever was discovered will shed some light on the situation… as for y/n… just tell her that I love her dearly and will do anything to keep her, and this magic, safe.” he said, not sure what else would be properly conveyed via another person. 

Eleazar nodded, and watched as Sebastian apparated away, heading to the hospital wing to await the possible arrival of his protege in whatever state she may be. 

To be continued…

Also you can find here, an audio of the spicy bit!

[ceilidho]

Thanks for the wonderful last chapter to Red Dawn! It was an unexpected delight to see it finished. Really enjoyed Miguel's manipulative vibes and the reader finally being 'tamed' at the end. Plus the smut was HOTT. Thanks again for writing this!

thank you for reading it even after a year of nothing haha!!! i was worried everyone would've moved on after so long, so thank you!!

[jokersfangirl84]

Words Get in the Way

A Frankie Morales x F! Reader Fic

Chapter Three

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x F! Reader

Summary: Four weeks have passed since Frankie came back to your place and made love to you for the first time after you both confessed your true love for one another, becoming more than friends. Afterwards he was called out for a mission to Colombia which was supposed to have only lasted a few days. You haven't heard from him in hours on the day he's scheduled to come home and you begin to think he's not returning. He introduces you to some interesting bedroom escapades you have never before experienced, and unveils some of his own personal kinks he'd been hiding for years. He has also brought you a rather unorthodox gift...with an unusual proposition...

Word Count: 5800+

Warnings/Ratings: M-Explicit! SMUT! SMUT! SMUT! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Nothing But smut!! Hooooooooo boy. I went out of control on this one. There are full descriptions of PIV Sex, unprotected sex (although I do strongly suggest wrapping it up), multiple orgasms, vaginal/anal fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), shower sex, sex against the wall, doggy style sex, hair pulling, spanking, rough sex (nothing too intense), kissing, touching, masturbation, dom/sub dynamic, dirty talk, vulgarity, profanity, TONS of F-bombs with which I may have gone overboard, several mentions of cock, pussy, ass. Mentions of possible past trauma. There are sprinkles of sweetness, worry, love, doing anything for the person with whom you're in love. Characters call each other "Baby" and "My Love" many times throughout.

Author's Notes: OH MY GOD. YALL. I have done a VERY bad thing. I should be ashamed. This is the dirtiest, sleaziest, horniest, smuttiest, filthiest thing I have ever written in my entire life. This makes Chapter 2 look very tame. Frankie is a very naughty, filthy boy in this. He hasn't seen his girl in weeks so he is feeling rather.....*ahem*....anxious. I can't believe I wrote this. I basically didn't hold back & let it all out & poured my heart and soul into it. This took me three months to finish because I kept doubting it would be any good. I kept getting in my feels; not only from the content itself but from being unable to convince myself I was any good at writing. I didn't think I ever would get it completed & almost gave up but I knew that wasn't an option. I really enjoyed writing this once I got in the groove & stopped overthinking everything. I want to thank all my wonderful friends for their encouragement & to all the incredibly talented writers out there whose material I turned to for inspiration and motivation. Y'all are amazing! I hope you enjoy this and hope it makes you feel the things you want to feel. Happy reading! Thank you for all your support!

Side Note: there's an unexpected twist! Not gonna say where but it's in there!

Below are the links for Chapters 1 & 2! Enjoy!

Stay tuned for Chapter 4!

Thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this! I appreciate you so much!

Feedback is welcome!

Reblogs & likes are loved and appreciated!

Thank you to my besties @popcornforone @salgal78 @princessjenn420 and @fatimaisabelpascal for all your love, advice and encouragement to keep me writing and going forward with my ideas! I wouldn't have finished this chapter without you guys' precious support! I love you so much! @harriedandharassed @sherala007 you asked to be tagged in chapter 3 so here you go! Please enjoy!

(Reader's POV)

You stood in the shower letting the steaming water flow carelessly over you, resisting the impulse to have an emotional breakdown. There'd been no contact from Frankie since he last texted you saying his plane landed, his luggage was located, and he was on his way. That was four hours ago. You called him repeatedly; straight to voicemail each time. No replies to your frequent "where are you?" "are you okay?" texts to him. You even contacted Pope, Redfly, Ironhead, and Benny asking about his whereabouts. No one had heard from him since deboarding the plane and going their separate ways. Panic began settling in. Sinister thoughts crowded your mind:

He isn't returning to you. He has changed his mind. He has taken Erica back or found someone else. He made love to you, gave you what you wanted, and now he has nothing to do with you. 

You shook your head, silently telling yourself not to think that way. Frankie would never treat you in such a manner. He is not that person. He has always been there for you. He meant every word he said when he told you he loves you. 

You still wondered where the hell he was, and why he wasn't replying to you. Maybe he stopped to get a bite to eat and left his phone in the car. Maybe he decided to go to his place first for a nap and forgot to set an alarm. Convincing yourself these were plausible reasons for his absence helped you push the negative thoughts aside. You continued scrubbing the sweat and grime off your body accumulated from cooking dinner and cleaning your apartment all day, preparing for Frankie's arrival. You haven't seen him in four weeks and you needed to get a shower in before he showed up. 

(Frankie's POV)

Frankie arrived at your apartment fifteen minutes after your shower started. He let himself in, setting his black duffel bag on the sofa. Your apartment smelled like fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies, his favorite. A full two dozen waited for him on the stove. Sitting on the counter was a crockpot full of boiling homemade stew. The rumbling hunger in his stomach intensified. He hadn't eaten much all day, only the unsatisfactory meals on the plane. He couldn't wait to get to your place knowing you'd have something fantastic prepared for him. 

"I'm here, Baby. Where's my girl?"  You were nowhere to be found. Not in the living room, not in the kitchen. He could hear music coming from the bathroom down the hall, hear the faint roar of the shower running, see steam clouds seeping through the barely cracked-open door, smell your floral body wash. He pushed it open wider, peeking inside.

"Baby, it's me."  No reply. You were too busy singing along to your favorite tune to hear him. He stiffened against his jeans when he heard your angelic voice; saw your nude silhouette behind the glass door. The idea of surprising you and making you scream the way he did on the sofa a few weeks ago popped into his mind. His brain constantly replayed the events of that night. He loved the sounds he was able to coax out of you as he fucked you for the first time after years of longing. Loved how his name rolled off your tongue, how your nails felt digging into his skin, how your worlds collided when you confessed your true feelings for each other. He could still feel you clenching around him as he made you cum. God, he wanted-no, needed more of this. He needed you.

Knowing how much you disliked having your personal space invaded made him change his mind about joining you. He closed the door and made his way back to the living room, making a pit stop in the kitchen to grab a few cookies, consuming them in seconds. He made himself comfortable in the recliner, closed his eyes, pulled his cap down, hands resting on his belly, fingers interlocked. His body felt limp with exhaustion, in great need of rest. He was beyond relieved to be back in the States. This extra-long trip to Colombia had  been a nightmare. The mission was only scheduled to have lasted three days. Plans went astray in every possible way: flights were delayed, vehicles broke down, the group received inadequate pay (even after being promised a much larger sum; the main reason the job was taken), desperate measures were executed by the guys during an ambush.

Your soothing singing, the only noise filling the entire dwelling, urged him to fall asleep. Images of what you looked like in the shower appeared behind his eyelids; the soapy water trailing down your body, over your breasts and erect nipples, down your stomach, between your thighs as you glided your favorite loofah over your skin. Your soft, delicate hands massaging their way through your hair. You pleasuring yourself with the hand-held shower nozzle while thinking of him....his name on your lips...begging to be fucked....

He began sleepily palming himself through his pants. He wondered how much time you had left in the shower. You were notorious for making them last longer than necessary. He opened his belt and zipper and wrapped a hand around his already-hard cock, flicking his index finger over his leaking tip, giving himself a couple of languid strokes, almost in a deep sleep. The more he pictured you being wet, naked, and vulnerable, the faster his strokes became. He was on the verge of climaxing when his eyes shot open, coming to a realization. 

Wait a minute. Why the fuck am I doing this? There is someone who can take care of your needs...and she's only a few feet away…

He climbed out of the recliner and made his way to the bathroom. Fuck it. He was going to join you whether you liked it or not.

(Reader's POV)

You were rinsing the shampoo out of your hair when you thought you felt an unusual cool breeze behind you. You shrugged it off, knowing the shower door had a tendency to slide open a little on its own. The feel of large, familiar masculine hands on your shoulders startled you; soft fingertips pushing your hair aside allowing luscious lips to kiss the back of your neck. You turned around and saw Frankie standing in the shower with you, his lips slightly parted, a few water droplets mapping his bare chest. His cock big and swollen, in need of attention. 

"Hi, Baby." He grinned. "Stop ogling me. I need to kiss you now."

You didn't realize your head was cocked to one side, and you were smiling. "I'm not ogling you, My Love. I'd call it...admiring the craftsmanship."  

He snorted, running both hands through his misty hair. "Craftsmanship, huh? Since you put it that way, I'll let you look a little longer."

You took a moment to admire him, your eyes slowly following his physique from head to toe. Damn, what a sight he is. His lean, virile 5'11" frame was held up by strong legs, long torso, wide shoulders, and most glorious neck. His hair is just past regulation length, unruly strands tickling his eyes. The subtle thickness of his waistline and uneven beard - perfect imperfections - making your heart swell with even more love for him. He's the most beautiful man  you've ever seen. The kind of man you want to touch constantly but are afraid to do so; he's such an immaculate, delicate work of art. 

You noticed he had a fresh, deep six-inch long scar on his left pectoral near his collarbone.  You stepped closer to him, placing your fingertips next to the scar.

 "Frankie!  What is this?!" You tried to conceal the worry in your voice. "Did this happen on the mission? What happened?" 

A plethora of scars decorated his chest, abdomen, arms, even on his hands. Cuts, scratches, and bruises of various shapes and sizes. This particular wound, however, looked recently inflicted, like it came from a blade.

"Don't worry about it" was his sharp response. He put his hands up in front of him. "Trust me, it's nothing major. A little mishap is all it is."

"Is every scar you have a mishap? Are they from.....her? What are you not telling me?"

You knew mentioning Erica would strike a nerve in him. You weren't intending to be crude; only genuinely concerned about what he'd been through, who or what had hurt him. He had mentioned nothing to you about being injured. There was evident pain behind his eyes.

He tensed up. Jaw clenched. Hands on hips. He licked his lips and swallowed hard. 

"Baby, please. Don't. Now is not the time."

You put your hands on his face pushing his long bangs away from his eyes. His cheeks were red hot; it wasn't from the water temperature. "It's not my objective to trigger you, My Love. I'm just cur-"

"-I said drop it." His voice had become low and minatory. "I never discuss my scars with anyone, including you."

His words stung a little. You hung your head, your eyes now giving the floor attention. This is the man you love, your best friend. You want to know everything about him. Want him to feel comfortable pouring his heart out to you and tell you all his deepest, darkest secrets without judgment. As long as you've known him you knew he was never one to discuss feelings. You hoped being in an actual relationship with him would make him feel like an open book. 

Frankie put a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze back to him. "I'm sorry, Baby. I didn't mean to snap at you."  His voice returned its softness. "Believe me, I want to tell you about my scars as much as you want to know about them. I will. I promise. The time will come." 

You nodded and smiled. "Yes, My Love. Understood."

"Please can I kiss you now?" His eyes bolted from your eyes to your lips. "Those lips are looking awfully lonely."

You laughed. "You don't have to ask." 

Frankie gently pushed you up against the shower wall, enveloping your mouth in a passionate, desirous kiss. His hands were on your breasts, thumbs flicking across your nipples, fingers massaging the soft flesh. You both were now directly under the shower head, the warm water cascading down your faces, mixing with your lips and tongues. Ripples flooded your body when you felt his hard tip pressed against you, making you yearn for him even more.

"I missed you", he said between kisses. "I know I should've been here earlier. Fuckin' truck wouldn't start after I finally located it in the parking lot. Took me an hour to find someone to give me a boost." 

You ran your hands through his hair.  "I missed you too, My Love. I tried calling you several times. Every time you didn't answer I kept thinking something terrible happened to you."

His face was now in your neck. "I'm sorry, Baby. Besides my truck issues, I lost my damn charger at the airport. Couldn't find a replacement. Then the fuckin' phone died as soon as I hit the interstate." The irritation in his voice was apparent. 

"My goodness, Love. Sounds like you've had a hell of a day. Let me give you what you need." You lifted one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist, moving your body closer to his trying to maneuver him inside of you.  He pushed your leg down, laughing. "Needy little thing aren't you! But not yet, Baby. There's something else I'd like to do to you first." 

You looked up at him, pouting and whimpering. He smirked, waving his index finger in front of your face and shaking his head. "No, none of that. We need to establish some rules. You must be a good girl, or you'll get nothing."

You raised an eyebrow. A faint, imperceptible smile overtook your lips. "Ooooh, rules, Frankie? To make sure I'm a good girl for you? I thought you liked my neediness."

His smirk grew wider. "Of course I do, Baby. But patience is a must. Good, obedient girls get rewarded. Bad girls get punished."

You shot him a deer-in-the-headlights look. "Punished? How? Frankie, what the hell are you talking about?"

He winked at you. "No time for explanations now. You'll find out later."

Before you could ask any more questions he dropped to his knees, pressing his hands on the inside of your thighs, pushing them further apart. His face was now inches from your pussy. You gasped when you realized what he had in mind. 

"No! Not that!"  You tried to push his head away. He looked up at you, brow furrowed. "No? Why not? If memory serves me correctly, didn't  you say last time I was here you wanted us to do everything?"  His expression relaxed, eyes full of concern. "Or...wait- is this not something you like?"

You  turned away from his gaze, blushing. "I...actually- no one has ever performed it on me."  

You felt ashamed for admitting to someone who sets your soul alight as much as Frankie does that you'd never had a man taste you.

He grinned, the darkness of his eyes deepening. "Is that so?  Hmmm...." He rubbed his chin, one hand still on the inside of your thigh.  "You know what I think?  I think that's because you've never had a real man, Baby. All the guys you've dated are pussies. Pussies who don't eat pussy." 

You giggled. He's such a smartass. But he wasn't wrong. None of your past relationships ever cared about pleasing you. It was always about what they wanted: pounding into you uncomfortably, flopping on top of you like a fish, climaxing within minutes and leaving you unsatisfied, unfulfilled. Frankie Morales was the complete opposite. He made you feel like your needs, your satisfaction, was more important than his own; as if his main goal was to take care of you. He was patient. He made you feel wanted.

"I've been thinkin' about this sweet pussy all day. Gotta taste it. Please, Baby, can I?" Rivers of shower water snaked their way down his face flattening his thick locks. His eyes still connected with yours. 

Those damn puppy dog eyes.

He was quite aware of your inability to resist them; they made you absolutely weak. You nodded anxiously, realizing how foolish it was to deny him anything. Especially anything sexual. "Yes", you breathed. "Yes, My Love, please!"

Frankie spread your  folds with two fingers, licking his lips. God, you were glistening. "Fuckin' look at that, would you. So prompt and prepared. So wet for me. Exactly how I like my girl to be."  He circled his tongue around your clit -just once- before licking the inside of your folds, furiously lapping up your trickling arousal. Two fingers from his other hand pushed inside of you, curling, bending. You threw your hands into his hair letting out a long, plaintive whine.

"Fuckin' delicious," he breathed, not looking up. He took his fingers out, put them in his mouth, and inserted them back inside you. He moved them in and out while endlessly flicking his tongue across your clit, making you whine louder.  He took his fingers out once more, but instead of putting them in his mouth, he put them in yours. 

"Taste it," he demanded, moving them around the circumference of your mouth, now looking up at you. "Taste how sweet you are."

You followed orders, both hands gripping his forearm and wrist, wrapping your lips around his fingers. You swirled your tongue around the digits, bobbing your head up and down as if you were fellating him, all the while the two of you keeping eye contact. 

"Fuck that's sexy." He took his fingers out of your mouth, put them in his own, savoring the taste briefly, and put them back in yours, instructing you to keep sucking. He turned his attention back to your pussy. You moaned and closed your eyes, feeling his tongue inside you moving up and down quickly. You sucked on his fingers harder; your hands gripping his wrist and forearm so tightly your knuckles were turning white. The feel of his tongue deep inside your hole, while he rubbed your clit with his other hand, made you nearly lose consciousness from the pleasure. So many things were happening to you at once; all your senses and emotions at play. You couldn't tell if the sounds you were hearing were yours or his. No coherent thought could be produced.

"Come on, Baby, show me," he said, swiping his tongue through your folds. "Show me - swipe - what - swipe - this pussy - swipe -  can do."

The movements of his fingers against your clit quickened; his glorious tongue exploring every nook and cranny, no inch left untasted. The fingers previously your mouth now driving into your pussy at such speed your legs shook. He took his index finger and thumb and pinched your overstimulated clit, wrapping and sucking his lips around the sensitive bud.

"Frankie! What are you doing to me! Oh my God!"  

Your body jolted as you felt a massive outpouring of your juices, reaching the pinnacle of desire. A loud wail trailed out of your throat; the pleasure hitting you like a freight train. You held your hands up near your face, shaking, trembling, looking down at the frenzy between your legs.

"Good girl! Best pussy I've ever tasted."  He stood up, wiping your mess off his face - it was everywhere - with the back of his hand and licking it off. "That was fuckin' incredible. Gonna fuck you now. You earned it. Ready?" 

You nodded, breathless, fighting for air after what you'd just experienced. "Pl-please. I'm always ready for you, My Love."

Your scenery changed in a flash. Frankie flipped you around to where you were now facing the shower wall; your stomach and chest pressed against the cold, wet tile. He stood behind you, his hands on your hips, his cock nudging your entrance.  

"Put your palms against the wall, Baby. Stick your ass out. Spread those legs for me."

You followed instructions. He kept one hand on your hip, the other gripping your shoulder as he thrust into your drenched pussy with a low, rough grunt. He began pounding into you without giving you a chance to adjust to his length, knocking even more air out of your lungs. 

"Fuck  yes, Baby. This is how I always wanted to fuck you. All those nights I stayed over and fucked my fist to the thought of you. This is what I imagined us doing."  

All you could do was close your eyes and moan at what you were hearing. You knew he jerked off many times when he spent the night at your apartment. He is a man, after all. But never in a million years did you think it was you getting him off.

"Frankie...oh fuck..." His thrusts were endless. You reached behind you to touch him, eager to feel hot, wet skin and muscle beneath your fingers. He grabbed your hand and pressed it back in its place against the wall.

"No, no, Baby. Keep your hands where I can see them."

Your eyes shot open as one of his great hands came in contact with your ass with a loud, wet slap, causing your body to lurch forward.

That's gonna leave a mark. 

"Oh, shit!" You glanced back at him over your shoulder, keeping your hands in place.  

"Umm....Frankie? What...was...that?"

"You know what it was." He slapped your ass again, this time on the other cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lip as the pain bloomed across your body. You didn't want to admit it but the stinging sensation felt spectacular; so much better than the playful slaps he gave you when you were just friends.

"Fuck yes! More, Frankie, more! Please!" 

"Ah, so you do like having your beautiful ass spanked. Filthy girl." He obliged, slapping your ass harder than before; his thrusts never ceasing. He still gripped your shoulder, fingers digging into your flesh. "Come on. Move, Baby, move," he demanded. "Don't make me do all the work." 

You weren't exactly clear on what he meant at first, or what was bringing on this behavior. But you'd be damned if you denied you liked it. Your countless fantasies about him almost always involved him dominating you, spanking you, tying you up, making you beg for him, calling you dirty names, doing nasty, obscene, disgusting things to you, putting you in positions that would make even a contortionist shudder. In reality, your sweet Frankie would never be into such things. He would be downright embarrassed at what you wanted him to do to you. 

Apparently, you were wrong. 

You looked back at him, confused.

"I...I...don't...uh...what?" 

Both hands moved to your sides and pulled you closer to him, making back and forth motions. 

"Like this, Baby. Come on, don't be shy."  His saccharine voice set your mind at ease. "Let me and help me take good care of you."  

Realizing what he was asking you to do you rocked your body back into him, taking him fully all the way to the base; coarse, wet hairs tickling your ass.  Frankie trailed his fingers up and down your spine; those large hands so soft it felt like he wasn't even touching you at all. 

"Yeah, Baby. Just like that. Show me how I'm making you feel."

Your impassioned mewls and sighs increased as you moved back and forth faster, your ass crashing into his hips making him groan and pant. Even through the bellow of the falling water you could hear the inappropriate sounds of your wet bodies smacking against one another. You threw your head back, not caring that the tepid stream was hitting you directly in the face. 

"Frankie...I've never done it this way...you feel...so...fucking...good."

His cock gliding against your walls, along with the fact he was doing things to you that you'd only dreamed about, had you gasping for the breath he had taken away from you.

 "So do you, Baby. So goddamn tight. Jesus fuckin' Christ." 

He coiled his hands through your hair giving it a gentle tug, looking down at the junction of your bodies. "God I missed this pussy. I never want to go this long without it again." 

"Me too, My Love."  You uttered a pleased hum. "God I love the way your cock feels inside of me. My pussy felt so empty without it."

He chuckled. "Tell me something, Baby. Do you always want to be fucked like this?"

Nodding was the only response you could give; words stolen by sobs and wails as he moved his hips against your ass faster. 

"Did you mean it when you said you'd do anything for me?"

Nod. 

"Were you being truthful in saying you'd always dreamed of belonging to me?"

Nod.

He slapped your ass once more, a hand still in your hair, making you shriek as he tugged harder.

"Words, Baby!" Slap. "Vocalize!" Slap. "I need to hear you say it!" Slap.

You were definitely going to have handprints on your ass later.

"Yes!"  You wheezed. "My Love, Yes! I want to belong to you! Fucking own me!" 

The way you moaned those last two words made him laugh. "You want me to own you, you say?"

"Yes!" you answered without hesitation. "In every sense of the word!"

His lips curled into a pleased smile. "Good girl. That's the answer I was expecting."  He let go of your hair and spun you around to where you were now facing him.

"Hold on to me, Baby. It's okay, I got you." He placed his hands under your thighs and picked you up effortlessly, pinning you against the shower wall with his body. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your ankles crossed, one arm flung around his neck, the other clutching his shoulder. Within seconds he was back inside you fucking you like his life depended on it, his vigorous thrusting forcing your body up and down, lifting, falling. His face deposited in your neck, licking, kissing, sucking every inch of skin between your neck and shoulder. You tilted your head back, eyes closed, mouth open, desperate cries filling your tiny bathroom. You're so full of him, his cock so deep inside you touching every nerve, every tendril, every fiber, every corner. The head of him pressing the switch within you that made you lose all modesty, all control. 

"Oh, God, yes! Harder, My Love! Harder!"  You were basically shouting the words. "Fuck me like you own me!"

He growled and hissed in your ear as the brutality of his thrusts intensified. His fingers and hands squeezing your skin so tightly you were certain you'd be left with marks, bruises, fingerprints. The pain, the pleasure; it was all equally too much and not enough. It was fucking magnificent; leaving your mind in shambles. 

"Yes, Baby, yes!" he panted. I fuckin' love hearing you talk this way. So fuckin' dirty."

He was now looking at you, eyes hazy with pleasure, mouth open. "Gonna cum soon, Baby. Where do you want it? Inside?" 

"Yes!"  You cried, locking your eyes with his. "You don't need permission! Just fuckin' do it!  Cum inside me, please!"

A smile spread across his lips, a satisfied twinkle gleaming in his eye. "You are so fuckin' perfect, Baby, I swear. Fuckin' made for me."  He put an index finger in his mouth and, without warning, pushed it repeatedly inside your asshole -while still fucking you into oblivion.

"Frankie!" You practically screamed his name.  "That's...oh fuck...what the fuck! That's too much! I can't-"

 "-You can take it, Baby. I know you can. Show me. Don't hold back."

No way was he going to make you cum twice. That was impossible; only something you'd seen in movies and TV. Something that always suspends your disbelief, making you scoff and roll your eyes. But this?  Imminent. You were going to have multiple orgasms in one night for the first time ever in your life. Then he stuck another finger inside your ass. And that was it; the shot of adrenaline straight to the heart, the needle bursting the tiny pleasure-filled bubble in your stomach, the surge of electricity pulsing through your veins. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck , fingertips kneading, clawing into the flesh of his back holding on for dear life. 

Frankie gave one last forceful buck of his hips as he spilled into you, an orchestra of explicit noises and words coming from the both of you. You could feel the concoction of warm liquids between your thighs shooting up into you like fireworks. Your vision was now a swirling sea of unrecognizable colors. Your head collapsed on his shoulder, his chin on yours, chests heaving against each other's, breaths coming and going in quick intervals. 

"I love you so much, Frankie" you finally managed to say after what seemed like an eternity of silence. "You make me feel things I had no idea I could feel."

You felt him smile against your neck. "I love you too, Baby. I always knew I'd be the one to broaden your horizons."

You embraced him tighter running your hands up and down his back. "I never wanted anyone like this. It's all brand new to me."

"Likewise, Baby." Frankie removed his hands from the back of your thighs and set you on your feet. You felt like a newborn fawn, legs wobbly, unable to keep your balance. You both laughed as you held on to his forearms for support until you could stand on your own.  He shut the water off and opened the sliding glass door, stepping out onto the white feathery bath mat.

"Meet me in the living room after you're dressed," he said as he grabbed a towel off the bathroom door hook and gathered his clothes off the floor. "I have a surprise for you."

**************************

After changing into leggings and a spaghetti-strap shirt, you found Frankie sitting on the sofa, his phone in one hand, thumb swiping up and down in quick strokes, dark bottle of beer in the other taking long swigs, eyes never leaving the device screen. His jeans were zipped but unbuttoned, unfastened belt hanging loosely between his legs. His red T-shirt clung to his still-damp skin, portraying each sculpted muscular detail, his moist capless hair an unkempt mess, strands pointing in every direction. You stood at the end of the hallway watching him, leaning your shoulder against the wall, staring, struggling to process what had just taken place in your shower. You had difficulty wrapping your head around the fact that it actually happened; not in one of your fantasy scenarios. Frankie Morales, who you've wanted since the first day you laid eyes on him, was now your lover, your partner; your companion. The one who showed you pleasures you didn't know you wanted or needed. The one who unlocked your passion and freed your mind to explore the depths of your darkest sexual desires.

Your lover.  That sounded so forbidden, so taboo.

Frankie looked up from his phone and gave you a smile, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "There's my girl. You disappeared from me. I didn't think you'd come back."  He took another sip of beer and set the bottle on the coffee table. "Come on over here so I can give you your surprise." 

You took the empty seat next to him. He reached into his duffel bag and pulled out a small, flat purple gift box wrapped in pink ribbon and placed it in your hands. 

"This is for you, Baby. Open it."

"You bought me a gift?" 

He nodded, his eyes wide and full of anticipation, an anxious smile across his lips. "Of course. You're my girl. I need to spoil you."

Inside was a thin, black leather choker necklace adorned with numerous diamond-shaped crystals. A sterling silver heart pendant hung from a small chain on the facade, and it fastened like a belt in the back. You didn't wear much jewelry, earrings occasionally. He knew this, which made it a little unclear as to why this would be a gift choice. But you found it to be beautiful. Elegant. Racy.

After a few moments it hit you; the purpose of the gift. You were his. He owns you. You belong to him. He wants it to be shown. 

"Frankie, it's lovely. But...I don't wear neck-."

"-You do now," he interrupted. "I want you to wear it as a symbol of my ownership of you. You want to be mine in every possible way? Wearing this necklace will seal that deal."

You stared at the piece of jewelry in your hands, trying to believe what you had just heard; your mind devoid of words.

He scooted closer to you, putting a hand under your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. "If you think it's excessive, Baby, you don't-"

"-Yes", you answered. "I'll wear it and I'll never take it off. Whatever it takes to make you happy, My Love, I'll do it." You took the accessory out of its box, ready to put it on. Frankie eagerly took it from your hands, his eyes lighting up. "Please, let me do it."

He leaned forward reaching across you to fasten the choker, his cheek brushing against yours, lips next to your ear. "You know what this means, don't you?" He whispered once the necklace was fully around your neck.  A hand trailed down your body, between your legs, inside your panties. "This pussy-this body-is mine now."  His fingers started rubbing at your clit, making you cry out. "I can do whatever I want with it. Clear?"

You nodded, eyes fluttering closed. "Fraaannnkkkiiiiieeee..."

"Remember those rules I mentioned earlier?"  His lips were still against your ear. "About being a good girl and getting punished for being bad?  You must follow them now that you're wearing this necklace. You must obey."

He slipped a finger inside you, moving the digit so rapidly you could hear the vulgar squelching noises, making you squirm. You grabbed his arm. "Frankie!"  you moaned. "Yes! I'll do whatever you say, My Love! I'm all yours!"

He grinned, his eyes rich with contentment. His lips crashed into yours, tongue delving into your mouth. Your arms found their way around his neck, your legs moving onto the sofa so you could lie on your back outstretched.  Frankie lowered himself onto you, positioning himself between your legs, still dressed, lips never leaving yours, still fingering you like it would be a crime if he stopped, making you hum and whimper. The other hand caressed your still-clothed thigh and leg.

"Gonna cum for me again, are you, Baby?"  he asked against your lips. "Are you gonna squirt all over my-"  

There was a knock at the door, making Frankie stop the delicious makeout session and look up in confusion.  He looked down at you, also perplexed.

"Expecting company?"

You shook your head.

Another knock, this time much louder. 

"Want me to see who it is?" 

"No, I'll get it." You stood up and made your way to the door located right next to the sofa.  You opened it, and the color drained out of your face. Your heart sank. 

There she was. Fucking. Erica. Hands pressed on her hips, looking as perfectly put together as always. Black hair,  flawless makeup, tight dress, menacing green eyes. The only difference from when you last saw her was now she looked like there had been way too much time spent in a tanning bed and too many collagen injections in her lips. She impatiently tapped her high-heeled foot on the outside concrete floor, her mouth sewn into an angry frown. 

"Where is he?" Her voice was eerily stern, lacking emotion. "I know Francisco is here somewhere. Where the fuck is he?!"

You put your finger up. "First of all, Erica, hello to you too. Second, don't come at me with that attitude. Third, what makes you think he would be here?"

Erica rolled her eyes, huffing out an annoyed sigh. "Because his fucking truck is parked out front, dumbass." 

"Don't you fuckin' dare speak to her like that." Frankie growled as he walked up next to you, casually throwing his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him. "You lookin' for me, Erica? Well, here I am. The hell do you want?"

Erica's eyes switched between you and Frankie, looking you both up and down, noticing your still wet locks, flushed cheeks, his shirt worn inside out and unbuttoned jeans. She shook her head, her eyes on the ground, sarcastic laughter seeping through her lips. 

"Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. You two fucked, didn't you?"

Frankie cleared his throat. "You shouldn't ask questions to which you  know the answers."

She cut her eyes to you. "I suppose you think he's your boyfriend now? That he loves you?"

"Erica, I'm not gonna ask you again." Frankie piped in before you could give her an answer. "Why. The. Fuck. Are. You. Here?" 

His acerbic tone made you take a step an inch away but he still kept his arm on your shoulder. You looked at him while he kept his eyes on Erica. His brow furrowed, lips pursed, jaw tightened, veins in his neck made their appearance, heavy breathing commenced through his nose. His other hand formed into a fist.

Erica pointed a manicured accusatory finger at him. "You. You son-of-a-bitch. You and I need to talk."

(To Be Continued....)

[detectivecarisi-1]

The Senator’s Daughter Chapter 4 (Bodyguard! Dave York x AFAB reader)

AN: Good evening :) Can’t lie… seeing people reading this story, interacting with it, genuinely enjoying it??? Has me on cloud 9. It’s really the best knowing that people are enjoying this incredibly self-indulgent fanfiction I am writing. Last night, I saw that one of my favorite people on tumblr liked a chapter and I literally almost cried. Anyways, that’s life. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I am sure you can tell, but miss reader here definitely needs some therapy... but she’s gonna get dicked down instead

Rating: Explicity (18+ ONLY, Ageless blogs will be blocked!!!!) 

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: ANGST, slight fluff? mentions of smut, descriptions of wet dreams, reader has a panic attack, verbal abuse, slight SH behavior (the reader pinches her thigh to keep from crying), references to alcohol abuse, language, Age Gap relationship. This chapter is pretty tame, no smut, just lots of emotions. 

Prolouge Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3   

Dave is halfway downstairs, when he hears a high pitched, girlish scream followed by a thump coming from the living room. He instinctively starts to pick up the case, reaching for the knife he keeps in his pocket and speeding down the remainder of the steps, he’s about to turn the corner, when he hears loud, uncontrollable giggles.

He slows down, releasing a frustrated puff of air, and sees you laying on the floor, laughing, a real, genuine laugh, while… what looks like a snowball with a tail is doing everything in its power to lick your face. He smiles as he listens to you saying … absolute nonsense in a baby voice, before you pick the snowball up, kiss its head and cheerfully proclaim, “I can’t believe you’re back, baby!”

Dave watches for a moment, smiling softly as you grab a stuffed ice cream cone, throw it, and clap for the snowball when it chases it. Dave huffs in amusement as he watches the snowball lose traction on its own paws and slide to a stop.

“I swear, she loves that dog more than life itself,” Dave turns to see Senator Leland, smiling at his daughter on the ground, whispering so their presence continues to go unnoticed, “You may think the dogs been missing for a year or two, but she was just at the groomers this morning.”

Dave clenches his teeth to prevent his face from showing how adorable he thinks it really is. He watches you, so off in your own world, calling the snowball “the most precious little lady!” While rubbing its belly, the dog flopped onto her back. Finally, Senator Leland clears his throat, getting the attention of you and the dog.

Dave watches you turn, and your smile falls, your lips part slightly, eyes widening, you take a shaky breath in, but you don’t look away from him.

Why aren’t you looking away from him?

While you’re staring at Dave, like an animal caught in a trap, the snowball spots Dave, and sprints toward him, sliding to a step just at his dress shoes. He reaches down, offering his hand for a sniff, when the dog just immediately begins licking his fingers. Some guard dog you got…  

Mr. Leland’s phone begins ringing, he sighs, checks the caller ID, and he frowns, “Honey, you tell Dave about ‘love of your life’ yet? I’ve gotta take this, it’s an update on the polling numbers.” Mr. Leland answers the phone, swiftly leaving the room. You look down for a moment, clearing your throat, before smiling shyly at Dave, “that’s … that���s my best friend, my baby. Her name’s Peeve.”

At the sound of her name, Peeve looks toward you, and sprints back, hopping onto your lap. Dave furrows his brows, confused by the name, “Peeve?” You finally smile at Dave, still nervous, avoiding his eyes, “she’s my pet. My pet Peeve.”

You look up at Dave, a goofy, nervous smile on your face, just in time to see him returning your gaze, his face completely unamused. You feel like a fucking idiot, and your smile falls as you look away, going back to petting Peeve, before Dave lets out a breathless laugh.

He feels a pang in his chest at the way your face lights up at the sound.

Suddenly hopeful, you bite your lip and sit back against the fireplace, resting your arm across your knees, and he’s caught off guard by how… soft you look. You’re wearing an old William & Mary University hoodie, which looks a little bit too big on you, swallowing your body whole, paired with grey sweatpants, tied loosely around your waist. A pair of fuzzy socks with pink and purple dots on them covering your feet, and your hair loosely tied back from your face, with a rosy, pink scrunchie, a few stray pieces softly falling behind your ear, and laying messily across your forehead, perfectly framing the curve of your jaw and the plumpness of your cheeks. Your face is glowing, probably from the prior orgasm, but Dave also knows people well enough to see how exhausted you really look. Darkness and a little puffiness around your eyes, and your slightly lethargic way of moving.

After a while, Dave finally says “that’s the worst goddamn name for a dog I’ve ever heard” reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose to make a feeble attempt at hiding the laugh he can’t hold back anymore. You gasp dramatically, feigning offense, “I’ll have you know Peeve fits her name perfectly. Just you wait until you get perfectly comfortable in bed she just HAS to lay directly on top of your legs, and you’re forced to remain, perfectly still, in that same spot for the rest of the night!”

He blinks, chuckling under his breath, he turns to look away from the passionate argument for why Peeve is a pet peeve, to try to regain his composure. “Move her?” he responds, voice breathless with exasperation, examining the ornate detailing in the marbling of the fireplace.

“When Peeve is so comfortable? Blasphemy, Mr. York, how dare you suggest such a thing!” You lean forward, resting your head on your knees, eyes twinkling.

He turns around at processes the scene in front of you, Peeve jumping to rest on your tummy, you’re smiling so brightly at Dave that he swears he can feel his heart start to pound in his chest, like a boy crushing on the girl next to him in class.

The feeling startles him. He looks at you, pretty little smile on your face. So different from what he expected. But then… he processes how young you look. How soft, and innocent your smiling face is. As if all at once, he then remembers why he’s here. You’re just a spoilt little rich girl, taking advantage of the privilege granted to you. You could have it all, but you choose to throw it away for a few drinks and a bag of Percocet. His job is to make sure you don’t end up in jail, or worse, dead. He remembers your temper tantrum; he remembers the photos of you on TMZ.

He remembers how turned on he was hearing the soft moans you let out in your sleep… He remembers how in his fantasy of you, you listened so perfectly as you fell to your knees in front of him… he remembers how pretty you sound, begging for his cum.

As he gazes at you, he starts to process how your eyes look the exact same way they did in his fantasy. Big, round, innocent… so fucking pretty.

He can’t feel like this.

He looks away, steeling himself, clearing his throat, “Well… a dog’s a dog, Miss Leland. You can move her.” and he swiftly walks to the dining room, not bothering to look at you again. ——————————————————————— You sit there, defeated for a second, trying to comprehend the sudden shift in Dave’s demeanor. You frown … did you maybe take it too far? Well, you definitely did. You just met the man that morning, and you’re already waving a vibrator in his face. But to be fair, you never had a solid understanding of boundaries, and he was fucking with you just as much.

Sure, there’s this weird, undeniable sexual tension between the two of you, like a rubber band about to snap… but you can’t help but wonder if you’ve created this. if you imagined the look in his eyes when you whispered in his ear. like he wanted to devour you where you stood. or maybe you imagined the smile he immediately hid when you woke up from your (very fucking filthy) wet dream you had about him. but, you know you didn’t imagine the hard outline of his cock, straining against his black dress pants. you can’t deny the feeling of it under your fingertips as you lightly brushed across it. You know, he must’ve been just as turned on as you were.

then again… the human body is weird. it gets turned on to things the brain wishes it wouldn’t. and Dave clearly fucking hates you, that much is for sure. after basically stealing his life away and then having a literal fucking temper tantrum about it, honestly, you can’t even blame him. Not to mention, he’s probably more than twice your age, so why would he even bother looking at you in that way?

but then again….

you’re thinking yourself in circles. nothing makes sense, and you resign yourself to a feeling of hopeless confusion. flopping back onto the floor dramatically, you stare at the ceiling trying the deep breathing techniques you learned when your father finally agreed to let you go to a therapist. It’s all you really remember from your time in therapy. her name was Monica… and you loved her. but after a reporter followed you into the office and photographed you crying as you exited, the headline on the next day’s Virginian Pilot “Leland’s Daughter Breaks Down!,” your dad pulled you out and never let you go back.

later, you found out the reporter was the father of one of your acquaintances in high school… great. that did wonders for your trust in other people (obviously.)

you’re laying on the floor, four second inhale. four second pause. four second exhale. pause. rinse and repeat. Peeve lays down next to you, stuffed ice cream cone still in her mouth, as she offers it to you as a consultation prize.

God you wished that fucking worked.

before your head can clear and your heart rate can return to normal, you’re called into the dining room for dinner. ——————-————————————————

When you enter the dining room, your dad is still furiously talking on the phone. Dave sits awkwardly at the end of the table, looking frustrated, staring at the cabinet behind your father. His eyes flicker to yours for a moment before he clenches his jaw and looks away.

You try to forget how bad it hurts.

“Listen… I know it’s gonna be hard to cover up. But do whatever you have to do. I don’t care if you have to … well pay the fucking sheriff off if you have to! I don’t care!” your father hangs up the phone in an instant… it doesn’t take a genius to know he’s talking about you, and it definitely doesn’t take a genius to see how pissed off he is. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a long, frustrated exhale. Before turning to you and giving you a tight-lipped smile.

You can’t find it in yourself to return it.

You begin to eat your dinner, chicken piccata with artichokes, served on a bed of simple, creamy spaghetti, topped with a heaping serving of Parmigiano Reggiano a side of a Caesar salad. You let the bright flavors of capers and lemon distract you from how much you’re feeling. How you’re somehow feeling so much, you feel nothing at all. All the intensity somehow just morphed into a feeling of acceptance, completely numb to everything happening around you.

You let your eyes flicker to Dave, who is staring at his plate, and he must’ve sensed you looking because he looks up at you briefly, before immediately glancing away, like you’re fucking see through.

Jesus Christ. Your foot starts to tap nervously, as suddenly the taste of parmesan cheese and creamy spaghetti noodles suddenly makes you feel nauseous. God… fuck this.

“Dad…” you blurt out, before you can even think about what you’re about to ask, and how bad it’ll make you look, “am I still able to go out? Or am I like… permanently banished to my room?”

Your father freezes for a moment, and you swear you hear Mr. York let out a sigh of annoyance. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, clench his jaw, and the soft eyes he gave you in the living room are long gone. He straightens up and looks to your father, waiting for a reaction.

“Sweetheart…” your dad starts, he’s choosing his words carefully, slowly and methodically speaking, trying his best to make this blow over as smoothly as he can, “are you sure that’s the best idea?”

No, actually. You’re not sure. In fact, you know this is a bad idea. You know this is probably one of your worst ideas. Less than 24 hours ago you were sitting in a Virginia Beach jail cell and got off solely because of your father’s reputation. But with how you feel like, at any moment you’re going to lose your fucking shit. How you’re seriously contemplating bursting out of this house and running into the cold Atlantic Ocean just outside your doorstep, just to get the fuck out of here… drinking sounds fucking incredible right now.

You can’t say that to your father, for … obvious reasons. So, you sit up a little straighter, clearing your throat, and pitching your voice up higher, just like you used to do as a kid when you would beg him to take you to 7/11 for a Slurpee after school, “Dad… I know what I did was bad. And I’ve learned my lesson. But, with Dave here, he can take care of me. So, nothing bad will happen again.” You look to Dave again just in time to see him roll his eyes at your performance. Okay, confirmed, he does see right fucking through you.

Your dad on the other hand… this always worked. He frowns… looks at you, thinks for a moment… “You can go out again. On two conditions.”

Fuck. Yes.

“One, you listen to Dave. Everything he says. If he cuts you off, he cuts you off. If he says it’s time to leave, it’s time to leave. You stay right next to him, the whole time. You do not leave his sight.”

You smile. Easy enough. You glance at Dave who is tapping his fingers on the table, his jaw tightly clenched, mouth pulled to one side, biting the inside of his lip.

Oh, he’s pissed.

But… like he said himself, the only two people Dave takes orders from is his boss, and Till Leland.

God bless Till Leland.

“Second, you have to promise me you’ll go back to school. You’re doing nothing with your life, and I’m sick of it. You need to start something. You can’t just make a career out of partying.”

Okay… that’s a little more difficult. You frown… “can I go to William & Mary?” Your voice is still in that pathetic, high pitched, whiny tone you pick up when you want something, and you’re vaguely aware of the way Dave turns to look at you, eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

Your dad sighs. Leaning down to rest his elbows on the table, resting his forehead on the heels of his hands “We’ve had this talk before, honey, you know, damn well, that if you end up going to anywhere other than Virginia Tech the President of the University will stop donating to my campaign. You know this.,”

Yes, you know this. But that still doesn’t stop you from trying to change this.

“I know, dad it’s just…”

He cuts you off, slamming his hand on the table, “See, you say you know this. You say you understand. But here you are still asking.”

Dave doesn’t show it, but he’s really fucking confused by the sudden turn in events. He’s never seen your father like this. This morning he was so kind and worried about you. Even when he yelled at he wouldn’t let you drink yourself to death, that came from a place of worry. Now, Till Leland is just furious. Dave watches as you recoil, as if you had just been slapped, and you look down at your plate, staring into it like you’re trying to completely remove yourself from being mentally present in this moment.

Till continues, “I caved when you just kept begging to study English Lit. Even though you know as well as I do that there’s barely any jobs. But I’m not caving in this. It’s Virginia Tech or you get out. You’ve ruined my campaign enough for one night. Honestly, you getting out would be doing me a favor, at this point.” After saying it he closes his eyes, breathing heavily, rubbing his temples.

Holy shit.

Even Dave can recognize that that was a little excessive. He looks to you, where you stay, staring into your plate of pasta, blinking away tears, breathing heavily. The silence in the room is defeating. No one moves, no one makes a sound, until he hears you, in a small soft voice “I’ll register for classes tomorrow…” Dave watches as you bite your lip, and bring a hand up to your thigh as you pinch the skin above your knee for a moment, you take a deep breath and look up at your father, “May I be excused?”

You get out of there before your dad can respond.

Dave takes a deep breath, standing to follow you out of the room, grabbing his plate, Mr. Leland holds a hand up, before sighing and resting his forehead in his hands.

“Dave… just…” He looks up at Dave, face sad and eyes slightly reddened, shakes his head, and goes back to eating his dinner, like nothing happened, “make sure she’s alright.” ——————-———————————————— The second the door to your bedroom shuts behind you, you let out a choked sob, stumbling until you collapse on the floor. Bringing your knees to your chest, you’re just trying to breathe. Four seconds in. Four second pause… and you can’t hold your breath for four seconds. Your heart rate is too high, your mind running too quick, your heart just fucking hurting too bad. You feel like your father reached into your chest cavity and is currently crushing your heart between his fists. The emotional pain you feel right now is so crushing, you feel it physically. You feel a heaviness on your chest you've unfortunately grown familiar with, but not used to it. You’re not able to breathe. Everything that has happened in the last 24 hours is pinning you to the ground, warranting you unable to even move. You just sit on the ground, crying in your hands, feeling your warm tears sliding down your palms, darkening the sleeves of your hoodie, the fabric cooling and chilling your wrists. But you don’t even care.

Your brain feels like mush, so much to think about leaving you completely thoughtless. All you know is you’re hurting and there’s nothing you can do in your house to stop it.

Laying back and staring at the ceiling, tears running across your cheeks, cool tears pooling into your ears.

You let them run.

You don’t bother to move when your head your doorknob turn, and the undeniable click of your door opening. You just stare up at the ceiling, memorizing the faint textured details on the ceiling. You don’t bother moving, even when Dave kneels beside you, his knees popping as he lowers. You miss the way his face winces at the feeling.

He examines you for a moment. Face swollen and glassy with tears, your eyes blankly staring into the ceiling. Your breathing, rhythmic, he hears you inhale for four seconds, hold for four seconds, exhale four seconds, hold for four seconds. You repeat this, over and over, not stopping, even he moves to bring you a tissue from the box on your bedside table.

He doesn’t say a word.

Neither do you.

Taglist: @fatimaisabelpascal @hayley1623 @marysucks-blog @pedro-pedrito-pascalito​

If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters lmk! 

[constantcrisis19]

20 Questions for Fic Writers (& Artists)

AN: I wasn't tagged, but I saw this and just had to do it!

1. How many works do you have on ao3(Tumblr)?

34 works on ao3

51 works on Tumblr

2. What's your total ao3 (Tumblr) word count?

559,311 words on ao3

84,623 words on Tumblr

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Honestly, whatever I'm into at the time (but I have a tendency to bounce around a lot) so I'll just list off a few of my favs to write for:

Call of Duty: MW2

Spider-man: Across the Spider-verse

Rick and Morty

Teen Wolf

Stranger Things

Supernatural

The Walking Dead

4.What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

What Is Meant To Be (Always Finds A Way) | Geraskier | 2,841 kudos

Tell Me Every Terrible Thing You've Done (And Let Me Love You Anyways) | Montgomery Gator & Gregory [Gen] | 2,425 kudos

The Goal Isn't To Live Forever (It's To Create Something That Will) | Winterberg | 2,035 kudos

Sometimes Peace Come From Painful Things | Winterberg | 1,252 kudos

It’s Funny Only Just A Moment (Can Reveal The Universe Intent) | Winterberg | 836 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't always respond to comments, since I usually leave that task to my co-writer (and partner in crime) Tibby. It's the most convenient way to do it because we both collaborate on most of the fics I post and they're much more comfortable with responding to comments.

But if it's a solo fic, then I can usually manage to work through my anxiety and respond to anyone who's kind enough to leave a comment because I genuinely love getting feedback, and seeing people enjoy my work really inspires me to keep writing!

Uhhh... That's gotta be my newer oneshot, Free Fall. It's a SoapGhost fic and a rewrite of the ending of MW3 (Yeah, you know the scene).

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I've got a few (cause I'm a sucker for a happy ending) but the one I'm gonna go with has to be The Goal Isn't To Live Forever (It's To Create Something That Will). It's a part of the list above and it's currently one of my only completed, multi-chaptered fics.

8. Do you get hate on any fics (Art)?

Unfortunately, yeah. I recently got a particularly rude comment accusing me of using chat ai to write my Geraskier fic, even though it was first published way back in 2020, before chat ai was even a thing that people used regularly.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yup. I usually stick to my comfort zone and write M/M stuff.

Though, in my longer fics, the smut isn't really the main focal point so I tend to keep it pretty tame.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Oh boy. My co-author has actually got me hooked on a crazy rare pair to the point where we wrote a whole fic for it (and are working on the second in the series). It's a Daryl Dixon/Dean Winchester pairing set in the TWD universe.

Nope, thank god.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yup! Someone reached out to me and asked to translate my FNaF: SB fic into Russian.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Sure have, but only with one other person.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Omg, no! I have to pick!?

Well, if forced with a gun to my head, I supposed I'd have to say Rinch (John Reese x Harold Finch from the TV series Person of Interest). I love the show and the characters and the story and the world building. It's just a pairing that I will always keep coming back to no matter how many other ships/fandoms I fall into.

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My KiriBaku x Among Us crossover fic. The main page, where I had planned out the entire fic, was accidentally deleted and I don't know if I'll ever recover from that since I'd have to rehash the entire rest of the story from scratch if I decided to one day come back to it.

However, that being said, I'm still holding out hope that I'll randomly get a burst of motivation for the story. Who knows.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'd say my strengths are writing angst, witty banter, and transition paragraphs (since my co-author often gets stuck going on tangents and writing really detailed scenes so they often ask for me to make a segue in order to get us to the next plot point, which works out for everyone).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

My weakness is definitely in-depth, detailed scenes, hands down. It's kinda embarrassing, but my writing can sometimes lack the descriptive, engaging language necessary to make the story/situation/characters interesting (especially when it's decidedly not a writing day) and it often reads like boring exposition.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I am not fluent in anything other than English, but that doesn't exactly stop me from relying heavily on google translate in order to use other languages in my fics, especially if the character that I'm writing for prefers another language. Take Miguel O'Hara for example, who is canonically bilingual.

The same kind of goes for accents too. I try my best to emulate how the words would sound if the character was actually speaking while writing dialogue. Take for example my SoapGhost fics, where both characters have a thick, distinct accent.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Unofficially (as in never posted): Vampire Diaries.

First fandom I posted to Wattpad (yikes) when I was like twelve: BBC Sherlock

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Jeez, another difficult question. Um... I'm gonna go with What Is Meant To Be (Always Finds A Way), for several reasons.

It was the very first fic that I posted to my ao3 account.

It was the first multi-chaptered fic that I'd ever completed.

I managed to finish and post the final chapter on my birthday (which was a pleasant surprise).

I love it so much that my co-writer and I are actually currently in the midst of lovingly revisiting/revising the entire fic to make it even better!

_____

That was fun! Now for the tagging!

@mistertiberius, @ghostao3, @captain-mj, @fogsrollingin