#this could be from like a completely rancid smut fic or it could be from the fluffiest or angstiest thing ever

[pjxckson]

I’m looking for a fic I read a while ago (I think it was a fic?) HELP

Basically all I can remember is one character asking something like “how do I look” or something similar and the other character responds “like somebody loves you”

[userlando]

the love we left — carlos sainz jr

carlos sainz jr x fem!reader [8.8k] summary: you weren’t aware that your family’s worry had extended so far that they’d brought in the heavy artillery, it being carlos sainz of all people. the very same person who’d turned you into someone you didn’t recognise in the mirror anymore. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & language, very angsty, mentions of alcohol abuse and drug use, heartbreak, childhood friends, brother's best friend, public sex a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts, unfinished for a whole month so I went back and thought that it deserved a second chance. and voilà, here you have it! my very first carlos fic!! i'd love to hear your thoughts on this, because I love how this turned out. happy reading my lovelies!! x

The music was pounding, borderline rupturing your eardrum with good music that had you bobbing your head gently to the intimate beat. Everywhere you looked were bodies, moving in unison and hands roaming sweaty skin.

The bartender poured drinks like his life depended on it, and you watched him pour you another shot of tequila without a verbal request from you, shooting you a friendly grin and side stepping to help the next customer. You downed your shot, pulling a small face at the rancid taste as you made your way to the dance floor.

You didn’t know when you’d become this type of person. The person who’d spend their weekends in clubs, dancing the nights away until they got blisters on their feet and most likely woke up with their head in a toilet bowl. It had started out as something you and your girlfriends did, sneaking into clubs when you’d just turned legal, but then you’d started going alone because you found out that sitting in your apartment alone with your thoughts was way too much for you to handle.

You weren’t strong enough to deal with your emotions, preferring to find people and alcohol to distract you. It had worked out quite well for you and the multiple shots you’d taken over the span of two hours were starting to settle in your bones, buzzing right beneath your skin and giving you enough courage to seek out the dance floor.

Your body moved like it was an entity of its own, face tilted up to the ceiling and eyes closed as you felt the music. It rattled your bones and settled in your hips, the bottom of your heels sticking to the floor with every step you took.

I’ve never seen someone look so at home on a dance floor, he’d once said. The words came sneaking into your mind, unbidden. You could still remember the party, how your brother had bought the whole gang shots and you’d taken to the floor with laughter and happiness in your bellies. The DJ hadn’t been very happy when your brother and the man of the hour stepped up to the booth and completely took over with their non-existent experience of manning a DJ booth, but he’d relented when your brother had drunkenly explained that this man right here? He’s gonna be racing cars professionally, cabrón.

You were so far gone in your head, not even flinching at the pair of hands sliding over your waist and pulling you into a body. The person smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap cologne, and it made something roll in your stomach at the mix of it in your nostrils but you couldn’t pull away. He was yet another distraction from your messed up life, and you welcomed it in all forms.

If you let yourself take a step back and think of exactly why you allowed a complete stranger to touch you the way they were, you’d come to the conclusion that the reason was because the feeling of hands on your hips reminded you of him. That one damned night that changed you, that made you into this.

He’d cornered you against the wall, claimed your lips in a bruising kiss that left you panting and his hands. Fuck. His hands had gripped your hips so tight that you’d had bruises for a whole week after that encounter.

You’d thought that finally, finally the both of you would be together after years of pining; Spending your awkward teenage years wishing that your brother’s best friend would look at you as a girl he could imagine kissing, and not as his best friend’s sister and a family friend. But then he’d acted like nothing happened, leaving you in the dust with little to no explanation as he went to kickstart his career.

Bile rose in your throat as your brain entered dangerous territory, and you blinked your eyes open against the lights. It was blurry, and it took a few moments for you to realise that there were tears welling up in your eyes. You’d stopped crying long ago, but sometimes the tears managed to sneak up on you when you were vulnerable and drunk.

The hands on your body were suddenly too much, and just as you were about to run, someone grabbed you and yanked a little harder than you had been prepared for. You stumbled, a wordless shout leaving your lips when you were pulled to the side of the dance floor, legs struggling to keep up. It took a second for you to realise that someone had grabbed you and was in the process of dragging you off the dance floor, away from the sweaty and dancing bodies, away from the man who you’d danced with. Your eyes were scanning your surroundings, feeling too drunk to think of a good plan to escape so you settled for the only thing that would hopefully get someone’s attention.

Before you could open your mouth and scream, a hand settled right on your lips and muffled the sound, your eyes flickering up to the man in front of you in the hopes that you could shoot him the most pleading look through your eyes.

You found yourself looking into round and dark eyes, so eerily familiar that it made your stomach violently turn and you took a stumbling step back like shock itself had shoved you, turning around to promptly retch into a nearby trash can. You heaved and clutched at the edge of the bin with your hands, moaning miserably until it finally stopped.

“Come on, let’s get you outside.” His voice sounded somewhere behind you, somehow overpowering the pulsing music.

His hands grabbed at you, helping you steady yourself and you didn’t bother to spare him another glance as you weakly shoved his hands away. He didn’t fight you, nor say anything when you walked straight out of the club, legs feeling incredibly weak and hands shaking; like you were two seconds away from breaking down.

And you were. What the fuck was he doing here? Why would he come back?

The chilly air was welcomed when you pushed the back door open, stumbling out into the alley and breathing in, in an effort to sober up. You ignored your trembling hands as you dug around in your purse for gum, anything to get rid of the sour taste in your mouth but you doubted it would do much to settle the nausea roiling in your stomach.

You heard a scuffle behind you, causing you to freeze because you’d been hoping that it was all just your drunken mind playing tricks on you; Because it happened sometimes. It had happened in your dreams, and once when you’d smoked a dodgy rolled up joint and hallucinated him being there. But no, he was standing there when you turned around, eyebrows pulled together in that annoying frown he always wore whenever he disapproved of something. His face was passive though, eyes not giving away anything and it was so infuriating.

He’d always played the older brother, acting like he had some kind of right to decide over you just because he was your brother’s friend. But his feelings had been anything but fraternal, he’d made that very clear when he decided to fuck you and leave.

You swallowed, feeling nauseous as you stood staring at him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, cursing yourself quietly when your voice shook. But you sounded stern, even in your drunken state and something about your tone made the man grit his teeth.

“I was worried—“

No. You didn’t need to hear the same old spiel again. He didn’t get to be worried about you, not anymore.

“What are you doing here, Carlos?” You cut him off, making him cringe at the way you said his name, sharply and angry - so differently from how you used to say it.

“Your family is worried about you.” He replied slowly.

The way he talked reminded you of someone who spoke carefully as to not scare away a skittish animal. It was very bizarre, the feeling so unreal that you had a hard time believing that your fucked up mind hadn’t decided to conjure him up on a random Sunday night. A few moments passed as you stared, and stared. He was truly there in the flesh.

You were aware that your mother had been worried, calling you every day to check up on you and you gave her the same old answer because what else was there to say?

You just weren’t aware that your family’s worry had extended so far that they’d brought in the heavy artillery, it being Carlos fucking Sainz of all people. The very same person who’d turned you into someone you didn’t recognise in the mirror anymore.

“I wanted to check up on you, see how you are doing.” He broke the drawn out silence, stuffing both of his hands into the pockets of his jacket like he didn’t know what else to do with them.

You remembered the odd habit he used to have, where he’d wring his hands whenever he felt out of place. It was such a minuscule detail that barely anyone took notice of, but you did. You always did.

Your eyes dropped to follow the movement, noting the casual jeans and the red hoodie under his black jacket. You quickly looked away, refusing to think about how good he looked.

“Well, now you have. So you can go.” You shot him a smile with no real joy behind it, turning around and walking down the alleyway in the direction of your apartment.

You knew that he wouldn’t leave you alone, and a big part of you wanted him to. But you couldn’t deny that one percent that wanted, needed him to stay.

The sounds of his footsteps let you know that he wasn’t far behind and you jumped like he’d burned you when you felt his fingertips touch your arm. Just a quick touch that lit your body on fire. Your eyes found his and you took a big step back, feeling your chest go tight at the slight downwards tilt of his lips, like he hadn’t expected you to react negatively.

“Nena, please. Let me walk you home, at least.” He said and your throat tightened up at the familiar pet name he’d called you since you were children and so incredibly naive.

“Don’t call me that.” You sniffled, bringing a hand up to rub at your nose. “You don’t get to show up here after two years and play the hero. I don’t need one, and I certainly don’t need you.”

“Lo sé.” He said, but he really didn’t know, did he?

You didn’t say a word, taking two steps before glaring down at your shoes. They had been a pain the whole night and now that the alcohol wasn’t doing its job of numbing the pain, your feet were starting to hurt from being pinched for the past few hours. You balanced yourself with a hand on the wall, slipping your heels off with a quiet grumble and shoving the offending footwear into the man’s chest. Carlos grunted at the unexpected force, hands coming up to catch the heels before they dropped and raising both eyebrows at you.

You weren’t looking at his face, but you could tell that he was baffled by your actions and it made you feel just a tad bit smug. If he was going to show up and insist on pestering you, he might as well make himself useful.

The concrete was uncomfortable to walk barefoot on, but it felt freeing and you took comfort in that feeling. Anything to not think about exactly who was walking a few steps behind you, feeling his eyes on you like hot coal on your skin.

“Do you live far from here?” He asked, tone cautious like he didn’t want to say the wrong things or set you off.

“No, why?” You turned your head to look over your shoulder and found him walking way closer to you than you thought. “Is the neighbourhood not up to your standards?”

You knew you were being petty now, playing unfair and it clearly annoyed Carlos as he looked away to avoid your cold gaze. It wasn’t his fault that he’d gone and got himself an even more lavish lifestyle where he raced cars for a living and got millions out of it. You’d always been proud of him, one of his biggest supporters before everything transpired and although you didn’t want to admit it out loud, you’d always keep tabs on him.

There weren’t enough fingers on your hands to count the amount of times you’d struggled to not pick up your phone and text him after he’d won a race, or if he did badly. The urge to comfort him and to be happy for him was still there, even years later.

“I live down the road.” You said, desperate to break the tension. “You can go.”

Carlos fell into step beside you, not sparing you a glance as he nodded.

“I know.” He said, but made no effort to leave you alone.

The two of you walked in relative silence, interjecting with small talk every now and then to fill the unbearable quiet that had blanketed over you. It took a few minutes for Carlos to relax, shoulders dropping like the tension was slowly seeping out of his body when he realised that you were beyond your anger now, speaking softly rather than the tone you’d carried a few minutes earlier. He didn’t like how you sounded though, mellow and short, like you’d given up on caring. It made something ugly swirl in his stomach to the point where he started to feel nauseous.

He was starting to spiral in his thoughts, trapped inside his head and just as he opened his mouth to speak, you beat him to it.

“How’s Ferrari treating you?” You asked and his head snapped to you. You weren’t looking at him, staring straight ahead with your mouth in a thin line. “You’ve been doing well lately.”

Carlos didn’t know if you were trying to act nonchalant and if you were, you were doing a piss poor job because he could see how you struggled to maintain a neutral expression on your face. He didn’t want to point it out though because his mind had finally caught up to your question, teetering along the edge of she’s keeping tabs on me.

“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse and he hurriedly cleared his throat. “It’s been good, felt like a dream when I signed the contract.”

You could still remember when he started karting, how he’d plead with his parents to buy him merchandise with the Ferrari logo poorly pressed onto the material. It had always been a dream of his, and something about him achieving it made you smile.

“I bet it was.” You said softly, glancing at Carlos to find him staring at you; eyes wide and searching, like he was taking in your smile. You hurried to look away, suddenly uncomfortable with the rush of old emotions storming back and taking residence in your entire being.

“How have you been?” He asked, genuine and curious.

You considered ignoring his question, not knowing how to answer him without making yourself out to be the most pathetic person to grace the earth. How could you tell him how you’d been in a downwards spiral for the past years? Could you even admit to the things you’d done, how you’d drank yourself to oblivion in hopes to numb yourself and worked dead end jobs to keep yourself afloat?

“I’ve been fine.” Your tone was flat, letting him know that you weren’t in the mood to delve deeper and thankfully he respected your wishes, keeping silent. “Well, here we are.”

You nodded up at the apartment complex you’d stopped in front of, suddenly feeling awkward as you found yourselves staring at each other with no idea how to proceed.

Carlos fidgeted as you stared at him, looking as anxious as you felt and it made you a little sad because you’d been better than this, once upon a time. You’d never known awkward silences or odd looks, but you’d somehow managed to go from close to whatever the fuck this was. Strangers. Ex-lovers. But could you even dub him as an ex-lover when you’d only slept with him once?

You took in the sharpness of his jaw, the stubble growing on it fitting him as well as you remembered but there was a certain edge to him that hadn’t existed last time you saw him. He looked fully grown up, like an adult who didn’t have time for children’s games and torrid love affairs.

Homesickness bloomed in your chest the further your mind delved into the past, suddenly wishing that things were different. Wishing that you’d swallowed your pride and picked up your phone.

Would he have answered? Did he change his number?

You swallowed excessive saliva in your mouth, trying not to grimace when it felt like swallowing gravel as your eyes traveled down his arm that he’d successfully managed to free from his pocket, hanging by his side. Your eyes latched onto the space between his thumb and pointer finger, where the tan skin was white and raised in a small bump. A healed scar that brought such a rush of memories that the words tumbled out of your mouth before you overthought them.

“Do you wanna come in?” You asked and Carlos couldn’t manage to hold his surprise in, eyebrows shooting up and jaw going a little slack. “Just… for a while.”

It probably sounded wrong, like you were inviting him with ulterior motives and you weren’t. Really. Just the thought of him touching you made bile rise in your throat and you realised that you weren’t ready. For any of this. But then again, would you ever be ready?

Whatever inner monologue you were running through in your head was halted when Carlos exhaled, glancing at the apartment building before nodding twice.

“Me encantaría.” He said, voice gentle.

You hurried to get your keys out of your purse, hands shaking a little and you didn’t know whether it was from your nerves being shot or the unhealthy amount of alcohol you’d consumed not even an hour ago. The door gave way when you turned the key and pushed it forcefully with your shoulder, stepping inside and flicking the light on.

It wasn’t much. A one bedroom apartment in a safe enough neighbourhood. Your brother had scowled and made his displeasure known when he’d helped you move in, even offering to find you a better place to rent out but you refused. Mostly because this was further away from your family and because it was yours. It had its defects and flaws, but you loved it from the moment you stepped foot inside.

Your brother and Carlos were like one person in two bodies, so you almost expected him to get his two cents in when he stepped in behind you and closed the door; Eyes roaming around and taking in the place. His face gave nothing away, as always, but then his brown eyes landed on you and his lips twitched.

“I like it.” He said, like you’d asked.

You gave a nod, secretly pleased but then you scolded yourself because why the fuck did you even care what he thought? Mierda.

“Glad to know you approve.” You muttered, annoyance pricking your heart and you didn’t know why. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll just be a minute.”

You left him to his own devices, standing in the middle of the living area looking a little lost while you sought out the comfort of your bedroom. The door closed with a click and you hurriedly changed your clothes to something more comfortable, snatching your makeup wipes where they’d fallen on the floor to wipe at your face. Your makeup was smudged, embarrassingly so but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when your heart was racing a mile a minute, thinking of the man on the other side of the door.

There was a moment of panic where you felt that shit, you shouldn’t have invited him in because this apartment was the only place he hadn’t touched, soiled with his fake promises and lies.

The memories of you in his bed came back with full force, thinking of how you’d woken up in the middle of the night with a smile on your face that got wiped as soon as you touched the cold side of his bed. He’d been nowhere to be found, and you’d contemplated staying and hoping that he’d come back in the morning but then you’d found his contract on the kitchen counter and the packed suitcases you’d somehow skimmed over when you were wrapped up in him.

It had felt like a gut punch and it still did as you stared at yourself in the mirror, swallowing against the nausea swirling up from your stomach to your throat. Your eyes welled with tears, and you gave yourself a moment to silently cry before you wiped angrily at your eyes, reaching for your toothbrush.

You thought back on your younger self, how she’d been so happy to have finally caught the eyes of her brother’s best friend. After years of pining and hoping that he’d see her as something more than his sister. How he’d once wiped a thumb under her eye when she’d first started experiencing with makeup in her teenage years, and he’d softly said that you don’t need so much of it. You’re beautiful, nena.

You deserved better, but you didn’t know what better was. Was it in the arms of a man or the bottom of a shot glass? It was a terrifying revelation, to realise how fucked up your life had become and it was all your fault.

Closure. That was what you needed, wasn’t it? But you didn’t want to move on from him, because despite it all, you still loved him.

Carlos had his back to you when you came out of your room, staring hard at the frames on the wall and you briefly wondered if he noticed how you’d deliberately left out the pictures with him.

“I remember this day.” He said quietly without looking at you. His finger pointed at a framed picture of you and your best friend, at an animal sanctuary with your hands stretched out, feeding a giraffe. “You were so happy to finally see giraffes, no one could pull you away from them.”

You wanted to smile at the memory, but it was hard when emotion was still clogging up your throat. You embraced yourself and sat down on your sofa, making a small hum of acknowledgement instead. Carlos turned around at that, sweeping his eyes across the small area before settling on you.

“Things change.” You said, because they really did.

“Sí.” He sighed, taking a seat in the ottoman. The seat furthest away from you, you noted. “I have that picture in my driver’s room. Not that one, but a similar one where you’re by yourself.”

You knew what picture he was referring to and it made you frown. Why would he confess to that?

“Why?” You asked, because that was the question, wasn’t it? Why, why, why?

Carlos inhaled through his nose, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Reminds me of how simple life used to be.” He said, like it answered the million questions in your head.

You didn’t ask him to elaborate, because you didn’t want to hear it. It must’ve been difficult to lead such a fast paced life, hopping from one country to the other and spending hours on driving cars. You’d imagine that it got a little too much at some point, rendering you homesick and yearning for a simpler life. But it didn’t work like that. Life rarely went the way you wanted it to.

“Why are you really here, Carlos?” You asked, the question so sudden that it cut through the false sense of security the both of you had managed to build.

He stared at you, eyes unmoving and it was so unnerving that you looked down in your lap, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands.

“I miss you.” He said, and you barely managed to hold in the scoff. Barely. “I miss us.”

“There was no us.” You interjected, spitting the word out like it was venom.

It might as well have been because Carlos hands curled into fists where they stayed in his lap, something he always did to reel his frustration in. Somehow, that angered you. You weren’t the one who walked out. You weren’t the one who left him behind.

“I kno—“

“No, you don’t!” You hissed, fury finally unfurling in your chest. “El problema es usted no sabe mi dolor o mi vacío. You just walk back into my life like I’m supposed to welcome you with open arms.”

Your breathing was picking up, chest heaving with the lack of air you were heaving in and it did nothing to stop the pricks of tears in your eyes as you raised your head to glare at him. Carlos looked taken aback, hands slack from the previous fists and his eyes looked… Sad. Regretful. It was so pitiful that you couldn’t help but laugh wetly and humourlessly, bringing a sleeved hand to wipe at your nose.

“I don’t know what to say.” He admitted after a painful silence.

You looked away, sniffling as tears started falling traitorously, tracking your cheeks and you hated yourself for it. The last thing you wanted to do in front of Carlos was cry, but it seemed like your heart disagreed.

“I don’t know what you want from me.” You said, quietly. “You’ve already had me and it wasn’t enough.”

“It was enough.” His voice was more forceful than you expected, making your stomach drop. “It is enough. The fault was never with you, it was me.”

“Cállate.” You shook your head. “Don’t do the it’s not you, it’s me bullshit.”

Carlos sucked his teeth in exasperation.

“You know I’ve always loved you, nena.” He said and it made you look up.

Love? For a moment, your heart stopped beating in your chest as hope flared in every crevice of your body. But you reeled it in just as quick, because if he called fucking and dumping love, then you were better off. You might’ve been damaged but you still recognised that you deserved better.

“I don’t know.” You set your jaw. “You have a funny way of showing it, if you do.”

He sat up in the ottoman, ignoring the groan of protest it gave under his weight. The both of you stared at each other for a second and it felt like the longest hour of your life.

“That night…” He began, trailing off like he wasn’t sure how to put his thoughts into words. “Nena, I didn’t do anything that I regretted, and I still don’t. The only thing I regret is leaving you the way I did because you deserve so much better.”

Something wet touched your throat and you hurried to wipe at it, realising that tears were still rolling down your face. It irked you.

Carlos sighed heavily, like the conversation was too much to bear and you agreed with that sentiment, for once.

“Then why did you? Leave?” Your voice was quiet, broken and you hated the sound of it.

Carlos pulled a small face like it pained him to hear you so broken down, and it sent a small zip of satisfaction through you. You wanted him to hurt like you’d hurt.

“Because I was scared.” He confessed. “I was scared about everything. Your brother, this new life that I got pushed into. It was too much and I was panicking that night. I just wanted to feel normal again.”

“So… you slept with me and left?” You laughed bitterly.

Carlos cut you a stern look that still, to this day, shut you right up. He’d always had the face for it, the round and wide dark eyes and the bushy eyebrows. He could look intimidating when he wanted to, not that he ever scared you but you knew when to shut up.

“No. I sought you out because you were the only person who feels safe, who feels like home.”

He said feels. Not felt. So did that mean you still felt like home to him? You weren’t sure what to think or believe, feeling nauseous and lost all of a sudden.

“I realise that I went about it completely wrong.” He continued when you still hadn’t spoken. “I have a lot of regrets in my life, nena. But leaving you in my bed is the biggest of them all.”

The confession felt heavy, riddled with underlying emotions and confessions that you weren’t really ready to confront nor unpack. It was exhausting, all this new information invading your every sense and Carlos must’ve sensed how overwhelmed you’d suddenly become, because he palmed the tops of his thighs and sucked his teeth.

“Do you wanna get out for a bit?” He asked and you raised your eyebrows in slight bewilderment.

“It’s two in the morning.” You replied slowly and that prompted a smile from Carlos.

The sight of it was so unexpected and beautiful that it felt like a sucker punch, making you look away before you started staring.

“That never stopped you before.”

Before. Before when you’d sneak out of the house with your girlfriends to meet up with other friends and go to the most obscure parties. And Carlos would always be the one to catch you in the act, whenever he stayed over the house. He’d never berate or rat you out, just smirk and tell you to stay safe. To call if you ever needed him.

“Fine.” You relented, standing up and making your way over to the hallway. “Do you have a car?”

“Yeah, I parked it not too far from here.” He regarded you silently when you reached for your shoes, slipping them on. “Are you going to go out like that?”

It didn’t sound judgemental, only curious and that’s why you shot him an amused stare instead of picking up a fight out of annoyance.

“Yes.” You said, short and sweet.

He gave you a long stare before nodding, and that was that.

Fifteen minutes later and you were sitting in the passenger seat of a Ferrari, speeding down the deserted highway. There was no clear destination in either of your minds, but you cracked open the window and let the wind whip your hair, closing your eyes for a moment.

The radio was playing quietly in the background, almost drowned out by the roar of the engine, but it was comforting all the same.

Carlos hadn’t said a word since he started the car, only hitting you with a do you want seat warmers on? to which you’d shook your head. But he was good company, silent and comforting, just like he used to be.

“I love this song.” You said softly when the voices on the radio drifted off, the familiar tunes of Lovers Rock filling the relative silence.

Carlos didn’t say anything, just reached a hand out to turn the sound up a few bars, shooting you a glance that you felt in your core. It was amazing how he still made you feel like that, like someone had reached down your throat and fisted your heart violently. It was a sickening feeling, one that was so addicting and dangerous but you still yearned for it.

You were still mad at him, but you could also see a clearer picture now that he’d given you his side of the story and apologised. It wasn’t that you forgave him - that would take time - but you weren’t holding a grudge as strong like before.

It was hard though, to not acknowledge how he still made you feel like the wide eyed teenage girl who’d once saw the stars and moon in his dark eyes, who’d feel sick with love and admiration for him.

Because love can burn like a cigarette,

and leave you alone with nothing.

There was an irony to the lyrics, one that seemed to fit your current life like a glove. Carlos cleared his throat.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, breaking the silence.

Your stomach still felt unsettled from the drinks you’d had and from him showing up and upending your life, so you shook your head in the negative and turned your head to look at him.

“No, thank you.” You whispered.

Carlos didn’t take his eyes off the road and you took the chance to look at him, taking in the sharpness of his jaw and his strong nose. His hair was longer than last time you saw him, floppy and soft without any product in it and it should’ve annoyed you how beautiful he looked. Like something straight out of a romance movie.

There were a slight shadow under his eyes though, looking a lot like a person who carried the weight of the world on their shoulders and you fisted your hands in your lap to avoid reaching out to swipe a thumb over the bags of his eyes. You’d been so swept up in your anger that you’d failed to realise that Carlos was probably hurting just as much, he just couldn’t show it or self-destruct.

“Estás mirando, nena.” His voice, paired with the pull of his mouth made you look away.

Warmth spread all over your body when you realised that you’d been caught staring, for far too long to play it off.

“Where are we going?” You asked, in desperate need to change the subject and Carlos noticed it, because his nose flared as he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth; Like he was trying to hold his smile off.

“La playa.” He said.

The air had chilled considerably when you stepped out of the car, the wind whipping your bare legs and you pulled your sweater over your hands to find some comforting warmth as you gazed out over the beach.

It was dark, completely deserted even by the boardwalk and it was perfect for you, not in the mood to run into anyone who might know the man who was currently walking a few steps behind you.

The sand found its way into your shoes but you paid it little to no mind as you hurried your steps to the shoreline, far enough that the water wouldn't reach you, but close enough to hear the ominuous sounds of crashing waves.

"It's cold." Carlos said and you turned around, taking in the scrunch of his nose as he glanced around.

"Es perfecto." You said, waiting until Carlos looked over at you to give him a tentative smile. There was something in his face that changed at the sight of your open and vulnerable expression, but you didn't stop to think too hard on it.

Instead, you reached for your oversized sweater and pulled it clean off your head, ignoring Carlos' sounds of mortified and confused protest. His voice climbed in octaves when you kicked your shorts off, toeing your shoes away before you began walking backwards toward the ocean.

"Ay, what are you doing?" He asked, taking a step forward like he wanted to stop you. "You're gonna get sick!"

You ignored him, only breaking eye contact when the current carried up the shore, frothy water licking your calves and it was so cold that you felt it in your entire being. A sharp gasp left your lips, but you were determined to get a dip in just to clear your head.

It had been a long night, and getting sick was the last thing on your mind as water enveloped you.

Carlos watched silently, though his heart was pounding against his ribcage whenever he lost sight of you for a mere second. You'd always emerge from the water, smiling like you were in your own world and that's probably what stopped him from stalking right over and yank you out of the bed of water.

You looked so free, the complete opposite of how you'd looked the entire night and he selfishly didn't want that look on your face to diminish. Granted, you weren't smiling out of joy nor were you directing it at him, but the burden on your shoulders looked a little lighter when you finally started walking out of the water.

He tried hard not to stare at your body, the skimpy lingerie doing absolutely nothing to hide the most private parts of you. Carlos didn't know if he was just imagining things, but you'd truly grown into yourself since he last saw you.

You were shivering when you reached him, arms embracing your upper body like they were going to provide the warmth you needed to not send yourself into shock. He shrugged his jacket off without thinking when you hurriedly redressed in your sweater, water still dripping down your hair and body.

Carlos was ever the worrier, sitting you down on the sand and draping his jacket around your shoulder. You didn't protest, happily accepting it with a stuttered thank you that had his chest squeezing.

"You've always been good at surprising me." Carlos said when a few minutes had passed. He smiled when you gazed at him, trying not to react when you shifted and accidentally bumped your thigh against his.

You pulled away slightly, looking out into the darkness.

"How long are you staying?" You asked, quietly and slowly like you weren't sure if you wanted to hear the answer.

You knew realistically that he couldn't stay, he wouldn't. Carlos had a whole other life to live and a job to tend to, but you'd foolishly believed that maybe he'd stick around.

Carlos had a crease between his eyebrows that told you otherwise though, and you knew what was coming out of his mouth before he even said the words.

"Two days." He replied quietly, the sound almost getting swallowed up by the rushing waves in the distance. "I'm supposed to be in Italy by now but I wanted to see you."

You smiled despite yourself, a small graze of the lips that had Carlos inhale through his nose.

"I'm glad you came." You confessed out loud, the very same words you'd been scared to utter for the past hour.

Now they were out in the open, and Carlos was staring at the side of your head like he'd maybe heard wrong.

"Me too." He said softly, watching you shift as a breeze blew by.

Your thigh grazed his and this time, you didn't move away, letting the warmth of your flesh seep through his jeans.

"I'm sorry for everything." Carlos pulled a leg up to rest his cheek on the knee, head turned towards you. "I wish I could take it all back."

"I know." You said quietly.

You looked at each other in silence and you took in the slope of his nose and the tanned skin. The apples of his cheeks were a little sunburnt, lips dry but oh so full and inviting. You stared at them, thinking back to how they'd tasted that one fateful night.

Carlos cheeks went a little pink at your scrutiny and you quickly looked away, feeling yourself flush warmth all over at being caught staring so obviously.

"Come with me." He said and you blinked, confusion marring your face when you turned back to look at him. "To Italy. Just to get away for a bit. You can meet my friends and watch me race."

You hesitated, feeling lost all of a sudden because you weren't sure if you were ready for it yet. But a small part of you wanted to go with him, to let go of this life of destruction you'd managed to envelop yourself in.

Carlos hesitantly touched your hand that you had in your lap, fingertips against the palm of your hand and that one small touch was so electrifying that you filled your belly with air, holding your breath until it hurt your chest before exhaling.

"Charles has a girlfriend who I think you'd get along with well. She’s very much like you." He continued, sounding an awful lot like a salesman and it made you smile. “You’d love her, I think.”

You didn't know who Charles was, but the name rang a bell and you took a shot in the dark that it was his teammate.

"I probably would." You replied slowly and Carlos pinched eyebrows relaxed a tad bit when you finally broke your silence, like your silence had built some anxiety. "Can I think on it? I just —"

"Yes." He interrupted you, like he completely understood. "You don't have to explain yourself. I'll be around for two more days so you can take your time."

You thought about your brother, wondering if he knew what had spiralled that night before Carlos left to start his career. Did he have a hunch or did Carlos tell him? All you really knew was that your brother had flown out plenty of times to attend races, so you knew that they were still in contact, and by the looks of it, good friends. He’d invited you along the first few times, only stopping when your polite no’s had turned into snapping.

“What are you thinking about?” Carlos voice brought you out of your thoughts and you realised he’d been looking at your face the entire time, trying to read your thoughts when your eyebrows furrowed.

“Does he know?” You asked and Carlos looked confused for exactly two seconds before his eyebrows smoothed out, a humourless smile twitching his lip as he gazed out at the ocean in front of you.

He pulled up both legs, resting his forearms on his knees and clutching his hands together.

“Yes.” He said and your stomach dropped a little. “He came to a race in Miami a year ago and I felt… guilty. He was talking about how you should come to a race sometime and how concerned he was for you.”

Your eyebrows jumped. Your brother knew. How much did he know? He hadn’t even brought it up with you, not once.

“I told him.” He let out a laugh with no real joy behind it. “He punched me, called me a motherfucker and left.”

Your mouth gaped open as you took in the new information, eyebrows raised so high that you were scared they’d get stuck in your hairline but you couldn’t bring yourself to relax.

You had never really been that close to your brother, close enough to spend some time in the same circle of friends whenever it was called for but you weren’t sit down and talk about your feelings close. It shouldn’t have surprised you that he hadn’t reached out to you and spoke to you about how you’d fucked his best friend, but he hadn’t treated you any different the past year. He still called and texted to check on you, expressing his worry whenever you gave him the old I’m fine reply. Now you knew why he’d been so gentle with you.

“I deserved it.” Carlos said after a stretch of silence, looking at you.

It made you sad for him then, and a little ashamed of yourself that you’d never stopped to consider how Carlos had felt in all of this. You’d always thought that he ran because he couldn’t deal with turning you down gently, but looking at him now? He was clearly struggling as well.

“You didn’t.” You said and Carlos pulled a face like he didn’t believe you. “I’m just a little horrified that my brother knows I slept with his best friend.”

The both of you smiled at each other.

“It’s not his business, anyway.” Carlos said, leaning his weight to one side so he could bump his shoulder against yours. “Just you and me, ¿verdad?”

“Sí.” You smiled like the words he was saying didn’t turn your stomach inside out.

Carlos looked straight ahead, and you scooted closer to him with a shiver, still cold and wet. He didn’t even hesitate to put his arm around you when your sides pressed together, leaning your head against his shoulder and basking in his warmth when a breeze blew by.

Your stomach was doing somersaults, twisting with nerves and a sense of giddiness and you really hoped that he couldn’t hear the harsh pound of your heart against your rib cage when he turned his head to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Te amo, nena.” He whispered, faint and intimate but it still felt like he’d reached into your bones and rattled them with a violent shake.

Hearing the quiet love confession come from his mouth stunned you, hope blooming in your chest as you picked your head up to take a look at his face. He was close, so close, and the inviting pout of his lips made it all the more difficult to resist pressing your lips against them.

Carlos inhaled sharply through his nose when you grazed your lips against his, a whisper of a touch that electrified you to the core. The arm around you tightened, pressing you closer as your noses brushed.

“Kiss me.” You whispered and Carlos did exactly that.

The press of his lips made you warm all over, hands coming up to clutch his hoodie when he pried your lips open; the touch of tongues making you push harder. It felt a lot like coming home, like universe had aligned itself, and you basked in the feeling of it all.

“Nena.” Carlos murmured when the kiss reached its end, lips touching yours as he spoke. He pushed his forehead to yours, eyelashes laying so pretty on the tops of his cheeks as he closed his eyelids. “I want you, I’ve wanted you for years. But maybe we should take things slow.”

You nodded, though you couldn’t resist stealing another kiss that he was all too eager to respond to. A groan rumbled in his chest when you placed both hands on his wide shoulders, letting him guide you to lay down on the sand.

It wasn’t as dark as it had been when you first arrived, but the faint light cast an almost beautiful shadow to his face as he hovered above you. His eyes were dark pools, staring into yours while his hand brushed wet strands of hair from your face. He crooked them behind your ear, cupping your cheek to bring you up for another kiss that had you whimpering for more.

Take things slow. Wasn’t two years enough? How much longer were you supposed to wait?

Carlos must’ve shared that sentiment, trailing his lips down your jaw to your throat in sucking kisses. He licked your skin, tongue warm against your flesh as he tasted the saltwater and you squirmed at the touch.

“Need you, Carlos.” You murmured when he pulled away.

He laughed breathlessly like he couldn’t believe the words you were saying, a hand travelling down your body with his eyes fastened on yours. You didn’t even dare to blink, staring at him until his hand found its way into your shorts and underwear, brushing his finger against your clit. Your eyelids fluttered shut, mouth going slack when he swiped his fingers through the mess of wet, bringing them back to circle your clit.

You grabbed him with terse hands, gasping and moaning while he brought you to a quick climax. It was sudden and fast, absolutely earth shattering when you climbed up to the edge and toppled right over. Carlos silenced your moans with his mouth, not kissing, just slotted over yours as he stole your breath and sounds.

“You sound beautiful, nena.” He murmured, fingertip nudging your sensitive clit just to see the way your mouth dropped open in a shivered gasp. “Missed that look on your face.”

“Carlos.” Your voice sounded pleading, hand sliding to the back of his head to bury your fingers in his hair. “Want you right now. Please.”

He let out a shuddered breath, pulling his hand out of your shorts to unbutton his jeans and zip them down far enough to fish himself out. You struggled to not stare down between the two of you as you kicked your shorts and panties off, marvelling in the sounds he made as he spit in his hand and jacked himself off; slicking himself up generously.

There was a moment where you looked at each other, unblinking and silent. His cock slid against you, slicking himself up further before his head caught where you were clenching in anticipation. It was stupid and reckless, to not use protection and to even do it so publicly but you needed him.

You couldn’t wait for another hour, and neither could he, judging by the way he slid inside with a gasped breath. Your eyes clenched shut as the intrusion locked your body up, finding comfort in his hands as he brushed your face and pressed kisses to it. You relaxed, feeling the girth of him stretching you out the further he pushed inside.

It had been a while since someone had stretched you to your limits like he currently was, but you were eager to feel every inch of him and you made it clear by wrapping your arms around him, spreading your legs further like an invitation.

Carlos let out a breathless laugh, pushing his lips against yours in a loving kiss and you lost yourself in it as he began thrusting. He hit you deep, kissed your spot with the head of his cock and the coarse hair of his groin rubbed deliciously against your clit.

It wasn’t romantic, not something you’d see in movies, but it was intimate and perfect for you. He conveyed so much in the movement of his hips, eyes stuck on you like he didn’t dare to look away in fear of missing every twitch and movement of your face.

You got a hand between the two of you, moaning and gasping when your second orgasm crept up on you. It made your head spin, how fast you’d been brought to the edge yet again and you clenched around him, screaming out your climax. Carlos wasn’t far behind, all kinds of curses streaming from his lips as he pulled out and came on your lower abdomen.

The stark contrast of his warmth against your cool skin made you shiver, still struggling to come down from your high. Carlos let out a drawn out groan that screamed of sudden exhaustion, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the come off your skin before he dropped down; Half on top of you and half on the sand.

“Where are you staying?” You asked, voice a little raspy from how dry your throat was.

“My parents house.” He replied, eyes taking in the slope of your nose and the pout of your bitten raw lips.

You turned your head to smile at him, eyes fluttering as he pushed forward to kiss your mouth.

“You can stay with me.” Your voice was timid, a little shy and it made Carlos smile.

“Bueno.”

Carlos’ hand found your collarbone, stroking the pads of his fingers against the raised bone. His eyes caught on the glimmering necklace around your throat, heart stopping for a split second when the pendant caught the light and he realised what he was looking at.

The number 55 was staring up at him, so small but so glaringly obvious that he wondered how he’d failed to notice it.

You must’ve sensed his body language shift, eyes flicking over his face where it remained unmoving.

“I wanted to keep you close to my heart.” You whispered and it was like gospel to Carlos’ ears. “I never stopped loving you.”

His eyes flicked up to yours, face softening even more.

“Neither did I.”

He thought of the years he’d lived through without you, thinking of the missed time and opportunity he could’ve had with you if he had just picked up the phone. But it didn’t matter now.

Carlos gazed at your face, at the stars reflected in your eyes, and made a vow to himself to never let you slip away again.

[animereaderinsertwriter]

Cupbearer (Eren/Reader)

Part II

Part I (complete)

Part III (complete)

Part IV (in progress)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (im watching you, if you see this, begone!), vampire!eren, hunter!reader, fem!reader, smut, some amount of predator/prey dynamics but only kinda?? there is also a significant age difference but only cos eren is immortal and all that jazz. we're all adults here. there will eventually be smut.... and do i really need to say that there's gonna be blood in a vampire fic?

Description: A story of falling in love in 4 parts.

Eren is a bad man (well, a bad Creature) who has done bad things. When he meets the great-great-great granddaughter of one of his former friends in his favorite blood bar, however, he thinks it might not matter so much what happened in the past, so long as he can make the future something worth living to see.

Ao3 link here

Making deals with a vampire was one thing, (Y/N) supposed, but fulfilling such a deal was quite another.

When Zeke— who held the contradictory position of the regional Commander of the Hunters as well as the alpha of a local werewolf pack— had approached her with the idea of infiltrating Eren Jaeger's inner circle, she had jumped at the chance; her great-to-however-many-degrees grandfather really had been Jean Kirschtein, and she had read his old journal, and her curiosity about the Old Ways was always bubbling just beneath her skin. Zeke, she thought, must have known of her curiosity, because his offer had been everything she was searching for.

You'll have your answers, he told her, And we'll have ours. One way or another, the problem of Eren Jaeger will be solved through your efforts. There is no possible way to lose.

If only she had known how wrong Zeke had been.

At first, things with Eren were simple— well, as simple as things could be with such a delicate arrangement. It had been beyond easy to bait him into approaching her at the Creature bar on 76th Street, and aside from the first time, allowing time for Eren to feed was almost nothing. Even the process of feeding itself wasn't much of an ordeal— there was hardly any pain since he drew from her wrist after a warm soak, and the whole thing took less than five minutes— but around the second time, when the visions began, things began to be… different.

Little snippets of Eren's past began to come as the two of them interacted more and increased the amount of regular feedings. Sometimes it was as little as a feeling, a memory of a face that (Y/N) had never seen before; other times, it was like (Y/N) was truly there centuries ago, in a land that would one day become her home. Now, almost every time she let Eren drink from her, she was thrust back into a world where humanity was (literally) with it's back against the wall, fighting demons and mindless monsters just to survive; and, sometimes, the visions were so intense that she would come back from them terrified, shaking, and incapable of cogent thought. It was during those times that Eren held her, silent, resigned, and yet somehow caring until she was herself again.

It was strange; in the visions, Eren was often passionate to a fault. He was wild, like an animal, but kind, too. During times like these, when he cradled her in his arms as she was trembling with the force of a particularly poignant memory, (Y/N) wondered if the centuries had truly changed him, or if he hid that passion beneath the jaded indifference she had come to expect.

"You think too much," he told her as she buried her face into the crook of his neck. "Your heart is racing."

Of course it was— the terror of watching hundreds of people be consumed by the very wrath of hell itself would do that to a person— but (Y/N) had no rebuttal. She did think too much, and the end result was muddled reports sent back to Zeke and a clouded heart.

"You loved her."

It was a statement, not a question. Mikasa— the brave, beautiful woman that Jean Kirschtein had once loved— may not have always known it, but Eren truly had felt very deeply for her.

"More than life," Eren replied.

(Y/N) thought back to the memory— the sheer panic Eren had felt at the thought of losing his comrades, the desperation with which he strove to save them— and she amended her statement.

"You loved them all."

Eren hummed.

"More than the wide, wide world."

And (Y/N) thought that, perhaps, he truly meant it.

"What did you see this time?" he asked, his voice soft.

(Y/N) pulled back so that she and Eren were face to face, her legs straddling him. His eyes were glowing-green, and she shivered beneath their scrutiny.

"I saw a field full of demons," she told him, unable to meet his gaze. "You and Mikasa were defenseless, yourself having been pushed to your limit, and Mikasa's blades having been broken. There was nowhere to run, and you— you screamed, and—"

A large, warm hand caressed her cheek, and it occurred to (Y/N) that it was her own blood within Eren that gave him such warmth with which to comfort. She placed her smaller hand atop his, and the world seemed to freeze for a moment to allow this brief, intimate interlude.

"Do you understand now?" he asked as he did almost every time she had a vision. "Do you see why I did what I did?"

As always, (Y/N) shook her head, moving his hand from her face.

"No, I don't."

The response was never met with anger or frustration; Eren was only ever resigned to it. Before, (Y/N) might have felt scorn for such a man who cared so little, but now that she had seen who Eren had been, what he'd been through… perhaps he was simply tired of caring so much.

"You're beautiful when you're thinking."

The words caught (Y/N) off guard. She had known that Eren had thought she was attractive— his emotional feedback told her that much— but she had never thought that he would voice such a thought. The compliment heated her cheeks, and (Y/N) had to fight the urge to bury her face in her hands.

"I've always thought," said Eren, speaking slowly, choosing his words carefully, "That one can never truly appreciate the beauty of a blush until one could see it with the eyes of a vampire, or smell it as it rises on the cheek."

Eren placed a hand on her face, tilting it until their eyes were level.

"And as a vampire who has seen many beautiful blushes on many beautiful women, yours is the most bewitching of all."

(Y/N) swallowed thickly.

"Why are you saying this?"

Eren cocked his head to the side, studying her. It was a long moment before he spoke, but when he did, he gave an answer that (Y/N) was not expecting.

"Because it's true, and because I would very much like to kiss you."

(Y/N)'s heart leapt into her throat, but she didn't dare move one way or the other. She just stared at Eren, slack-jawed, as he stared patiently back.

"Why?" she asked when she had collected herself.

Eren shrugged. "Does that matter?"

(Y/N) supposed very much that it did matter, but she didn't feel the need to say so. She studied Eren closely— the latent hunger in his eyes, the set of his jaw, the stain of her blood on his lips— and she thought of how gentle he had been with her, how patient. She had no doubt that he would prove to be equally so in other matters, and she wanted him— but something stopped her.

It would be wrong of me to allow this, she thought, letting her eyes wander to Eren's lips. I'm his enemy, a spy for the Hunters. Allowing him and myself the potential of intimacy is too deep a betrayal, even for me.

Even so, she didn't stop him as he shifted her closer; even so, when his lips brushed hers, she kissed him back, tasting her own blood on his tongue.

"This is a bad idea," she whispered against his lips, shifting in his lap.

"How young you are," he said in return. "There is no such thing as a bad idea, only poor timing and execution. Take it from someone who has centuries of experience; rarely ever is the regret for having done something greater than the regret of not having done it."

So saying, he kissed her again, and (Y/N) threaded her hands in his hair as he reached beneath her shirt. His hands— warm, now, with the heat of her own blood— reached beneath the cup of her bra to cradle her breasts, and she exhaled a hiss as his fingertips found her nipples. She arched into him, pressing her flesh into his hands and parting their lips; he chuckled, dark and low, and she shivered at the sound.

"How many other Creatures have you tricked like this?" he asked, pressing kisses against her neck. "Tell me, pretty girl— just how many have fallen prey to your charms so that you can run back to your little doggy master with their deepest, darkest secrets?"

(Y/N) froze, stuck somewhere between fear, dread, and ecstasy. Eren knew— somehow, he knew— and yet he continued to touch her, kiss her, caress her as though nothing were amiss. Her whole body went still with shock, but Eren never stopped even for a moment.

"Come now, you can't think I didn't know." His lips were just below her ear now, and he closed his teeth around the lobe, teasing her with the sensation. "I can smell him on the papers in your bag; I can hear the clicking of the letters as you type your memos after I've pieced you back together for an evening. Most of all, I can hear the way your heart pumps a little faster when I feed you the information you want. I can taste your guilt in the very blood I take from you. You can hide nothing from me."

"Eren," she said as fear— rancid and terrible— began crawling up the back of her throat, "Eren, please, I haven't told him about the important things, I'm trying to make a case for you—"

He pulled away then, and when his piercing green eyes locked with her own, she stilled like a sparrow caught in the gaze of a cobra.

"I don't care," he replied simply. "You are what you are, and at your core, you cannot change that. It is the same with me. I'm not afraid of my half-mutt half-brother no matter what you tell him, and as long as you want what I have to offer, there's no reason not to take it for your own."

(Y/N)'s mind was reeling.

"Half-brother?"

Eren chuckled at her confusion.

"Oh yes, pretty one. Zeke Jaeger is my older brother, and I suspect he sent you to me just to you with the both of us." With a carnivorous grin, he added, "But little does he know that I play for keeps, and you're not the good little Huntress he must assume you are— that is to say, he must have no clue at all how hungry you are for vampire cock, hm?"

(Y/N) would be lying if she hadn't pictured Eren in… less than appropriate situations, but for fuck's sake, she wasnt blind. The man— vampire, Creature, whatever— was fucking gorgeous, and he damn well knew it, but that didn't mean she was gagging for it.

Did it?

"We can't do this," she said, pushing at Eren's chest, though he didn't budge an inch. "We shouldn't do this."

Eren cracked a grin, toothy with fangs that glistened.

"Says who?" he asked, his large, strong hands coming around to grab her by the ass. "You were perfectly fine with letting me kiss and touch when you thought I was in the dark— is it no longer any fun now that you don't feel like you're taking advantage of me?"

(Y/N) couldn't take it.

"Eren, be serious—"

"I am serious."

When she looked in his eyes and reached out with her own heart, (Y/N) knew that he was telling the truth. He wanted her regardless of anything, regardless of everything.

He simply wanted her.

Could that be so bad?

***

Eren didn't think that this would happen even in his wildest dreams, but when he saw (Y/N) splayed out on his gold silk sheets, he knew it wasn't the madness that Armin accused him of lying to himself about. No mind, well and whole or not, could ever conjure up such a vision. The woman who lay before him— naked and gorgeous— was beyond imagining. She was something from another world entirely.

"What are you doing?" she asked, puzzled as Eren stood over her, watching the rise and fall of her breasts. "Come hold me."

And how lovely was that? His natural enemy, his perfect prey, asking him to come hold her, as though his skin on hers was blessed assurance that he was there and wanting.

Maybe Eren was mad— or, perhaps he was dreaming. If he was, he hoped he never came back to himself. A world without this was not a world he ever wanted to return to.

"Yes," she hissed as he crawled atop her, his mouth suckling at her breast. No other creature that walked the earth could ever taste as sweet as her— having tasted many, many before, Eren would know— but even were that to be disproved, Eren wasn't sure he would much care. This woman would be his undoing.

"Touch me," she demanded, canting her hips up to him. "I want to feel you."

How could Eren ever deny her? He brought a hand down to her sex, caressing her there before parting her folds to quest for her clit. Having found it, he drew small, teasing circles, and she whined.

"Am I still a monster to you?" he asked into the hollow of her throat, placing biting kisses there as his hand kept busy with its work. "Still something to hate and abhor?"

"You're still a monster," she replied, so startlingly honest even now, "But I never once hated you. Oh Eren, please, I want you inside me, I—"

Her wish was his command; Eren plunged two fingers into her depths, and (Y/N) gasped at the intrusion. She was so wet already, and so tempting as she squeezed down on those fingers, rocking her hips as he withdrew them just to the tip and repeated the motion. The way she felt around his digits shouldn't have turned him on as much as it did, but as Eren slid in a third finger, he had to keep himself from letting out a groan.

"You're so beautiful," he told her as she writhed beneath him. "You truly, truly are."

Distantly, Eren wondered what Jean would think if he were alive to know who was finger-fucking his great-granddaughter, but when Eren remembered the nasty right hooks the taller man used to give him when he was being a shit, he figured that he would rather not know. Still, as he watched (Y/N) come undone on the tip of his fingers, he couldn't help but think that perhaps it was something of Jean's spirit— the part that even Eren had to admit was better, kinder, more human than most— that drew him to her.

"I want you," he said, withdrawing his hands and licking his fingers clean of her juices. "Do you feel ready enough?"

And then, as though to prove his point, (Y/N) sat straight up with the cutest little Jean-like scowl he had ever seen and pushed at his chest with no small amount of force. He went with the motion, and he found himself being mounted by her as she said,

"I'm not made of glass— if you can't wrap your head around that, I'll have to show you just what I'm capable of."

She did— and how! Powerful thighs— the thighs of a Hunter— levered her up and down on his cock, squeezing him until he thought he might die from it. He thought she was never going to stop impaling herself again and again, and by the time she did eventually tire, Eren was sort of hoping she never would. He was in ecstasy with her, and like the selfish bastard he was, he wanted it to last forever.

"Such fire," he said, reaching up to press kisses into the skin just between her breasts. "You've made your point, now let me take over."

Let me take care of you.

"Yes, yes, yes," she chanted as he thrust up into her, the head of his cock buried so deeply within her that he marveled at how she didn't seem to be feeling any discomfort. "Oh fuck, right there, please don't stop—"

Eren didn't stop; he couldn't. He was beyond restraint.

"May I?" He asked, tapping the wrist that was trapped in his right hand. "I won't take much, but I want to show you something."

Delirious, drunk with lust, (Y/N) nodded, and Eren pierced her skin with a single fang, letting a drop of blood fall onto his tongue. In that moment, as they connected physically, her blood connected them spiritually, and Eren groaned as he physically felt how close she was through the link he had created.

It wouldn't be long now.

"Oh, fuck!" she cried, and Eren buried himself as deeply as he could within her as he came. "Oh, oh, oh—"

And then (Y/N) was following him, shaking and gasping as her orgasm overtook her. It seemed that the world had stopped existing for a moment, and Eren found it hard to breathe even though he had no particular need to do so at all.

In the afterglow, they clung to each other like the survivors of a shipwreck; when the world began to exist again, it felt new, and as Eren closed his eyes to sleep, he knew that this changed everything.

I must keep her, he thought as sleep overtook him. I don't know if I could feel like this ever again for anyone else.

[shiningloki]

Trials Of Pleasure - Chapter 5

Trials Of Pleasure - Chapter 5/8

(LOKI X READER / PRINCE HAL X READER / SIR THOMAS SHARPE X READER / CAPTAIN JAMES CONRAD X READER / DOCTOR ROBERT LAING X READER / ADAM X READER / JONATHAN PINE X READER)

You want Loki. You always have. You admire his magic. You crave the power he has. But most of all, you want to be his pleasure slave.

After years of unsuccessfully trying to summon Loki, you turn to dark magic. It works and you manage to bring Loki to you. He’s impressed by your dedication and talent but angered at the way you summoned him. For that reason, Loki is going to make you prove that you are worth all of this trouble. He’s going to see just how willing you are to submit to him and his sexual desires. To do that, he’s going to put you through a series of trials to see if you have what it takes to be his student and his toy.

Your mission is to deliver pleasure to Loki’s “friends” throughout history. You’ll have to find them, please them, fuck them.

Who are they? The Prince. The Baronet. The Soldier. The Doctor. The Musician. The Spy.

Loki will send you to the time periods, you’ll need to find them. Will you be able to survive the peril that comes with searching for these men? Can you give them enough pleasure to prove to Loki that you are worthy of being the woman who warms his bed? Or will you get lost in the timelines without your magic and a way back home?

Start from Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

Master List 

~ ~ ~

Chapter 5: The Doctor

Word Count: 6165

Summary: Upon stepping through the portal, you already can tell that this next trial is going to be...strange. It’s not really a bold assumption considering the first thing you hear is screaming. Lots and lots of screaming.

NSFW, SMUT, DOMINANT ROBERT LAING, WALL SEX, CHOKING KINK

1975

The first thing you heard when you walked through the portal was the sound of “Boogie Shoes” by KC And The Sunshine Band paired with a woman screaming at the top of her lungs.

It was not a scream of excitement, you could tell. 

You were in a parking lot, filled with broken vehicles, trash, and the scent of burning rubber. It made sense, since only a few feet away from you, there was a tire on fire. Five buildings surrounded you - three standing like bare skeletons, one about halfway finished, and one completed. When you heard the woman scream again, it came from the finished building. That must have been your destination. 

Even just standing in the parking lot, you could feel the madness around you. Something about this place felt unnerving and you wanted to run from it. You felt sick, and it wasn’t just from the rancid smell of the tire. You wanted to scratch at your skin, tear your clothing off, and howl like a dog. 

Something was not right.

You whipped around to face the portal. James, who had just finished putting his shirt back on, was still watching over you.

“Don’t leave me here,” you said quickly, walking back towards the portal. You were relieved it was still open. “Please, Conrad.”

“There’s nothing I can do,” he said sadly, reaching through the portal and touching your face. “He will protect you. You just need to find him.”

( CONTINUE READING HERE ) 

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[that-damn-girl]

Safe In My Arms

(Loooong-ass Oneshot)

Pairing: Curtis Everett x (cis)Fem!Reader (Snowpiercer)

Words: 13.3k (I don't know how this happened)

Type: Angst (sorry) leading to smut to fluff. Happy ending.

Chapter/Trigger Warnings- Kink List: Smut. 18+ Please. Angst. Minor adult+underage character deaths. Talks of not wanting pregnancy and abortions. Foreplay. Oral sex. Unprotected sex (This is fanfiction. Please be safe). Daddy kink (not full on ddlg). Dirty talk. Orgasm denial. Multiple orgasms. Cockwarming. Rough sex. A little bit degrading. Kinda sub/dom. Aftercare. 

A/N: This is my submission for @nsfwsebbie​’s dream fic challenge. Thank you so much for hosting this challenge, and I am terribly sorry I was so late to submit this. I had gotten @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​​ 's dream fic prompt. I was so happy  when I'd received your prompt, specially for Curtis. I have said it before and I'll say it again that your version of Curtis is the best I've read till date. I can't deny that how I see Curtis now is heavily inspired by your works. You had technically answered my requests twice earlier and nothing had made me happier. Hope this is good for you too. 

*flashback in italicised part. 

Curtis trudged through the narrow pathway between the bunks. The smell of death and despair was acrid in the air, burning his lungs, mind and heart as he inhaled it. He tried not to think about it, not to pay attention to the rancid mood and downcast faces he passed by, but it was ingrained in the atmosphere. It was everywhere. Painful. Hurting. Even for those who weren't directly affected. Such was the horrendous crime done. Again.

His long, hurried steps carried him to his destination. The one place he knew he'd always find respite from the madness going around him. The one place he knew he could forget, for good. The one place he could feel safe, and feel as if capable enough to save the rest. The one place which had become his home. You.

Funny how he thought that that day was going to be any good. Not that any day had been good ever since he had boarded the train. No matter what or how much of anything good that happened, there was always something bad, if not worse,  happening to bring down the morale.

Relatively though, - because isn't always things about relativity? - some days were good. Especially with you at his side, or him at yours. It was the company, the promise to go through anything and everything by each other's sides no matter what, supporting and comforting each other through it all that kept him sane, gave him hope. Hope for something good despite the shortcomings of the train. Hope to be optimistic enough to hope for good things to come his and your way.

The day had started like any other. Him waking up snuggled to your side, you body pressed warmly against his. The loving kisses, the pretty smiles. And then there was the teasing as he and you stood in line for the morning rations.

You stood in front of Curtis, waiting patiently, moving forward step by step for the pathetic excuse of breakfast they called protein blocks. Your meal was still far, a long line of other tail-end passengers in front you, waiting for their chance as hungrily as you were. There was hunger present in you all right, but it wasn't just for unfavourable grim ruby red blocks. You were hungry for something much more delightful and pleasing, tangy and yet sweet, something much more delicious than anything you could have had.

Subtly - or at least trying to be - you pressed yourself against the solid mass of the man behind you, your hips naturally settling in front of his crotch. You ground your backside against him, knowing the reaction it would elicit from him. He wasn't stimulated right then, but it didn't take long for his half hard member to poke you, resting snugly in between your ass cheeks.

Grinning gleefully, you doubled your efforts. His hand shot forward in an instant, trying to stop you. Your grin turned into one of victory, knowing how much he was loving and hating it at the same time, unable to drag you back to your bunk and give you what you wanted right then. You didn't stop though.

Curtis squeezed your arm in warning. Your hips kept rocking back and forth on his. He bent down and spoke into your ears, his hot breath tickling your skin, "Y/N, stop it."

You turned your head to glimpse at him over your shoulder, the barest of hints of a devious smile on your face. "What? Are you telling me you don't like it?" Your hips wiggled in accordance with your words, drawing out a low groan from his lips. The sound enough to make your core warm.

"I think I'm liking it a bit too much, honey." He said, trying to remain inconspicuous as he bucked his hips into yours. His hardness pressed into you, showing you just how much he liked it. "So you gotta stop now, Y/N, for your own good."

"Or what?"

His lips brushed along the edge of your ear, whispering in that sinful voice of his as his hand circled around your waist, pulling you closer to him, "Or you're gonna regret it later, baby girl."

"You promise?" Though he couldn't see you fully, the smirk on your face was evident in your voice. Curtis couldn't help but let a smirk capture his own expression, his mind running through all kinds of scenarios which he would bring later for you. Only for you.

It had taken a while for his boner to go down, and what an absolute hell of a while had it been for Curtis. Thankfully, his thick black overcoat had protected his tenting pants from prying eyes. 

You, on the other hand, had a glint in your eyes that morning as your gaze had followed him that morning. Every twitch he made, every time he squeamishly tried to adjust his pants to ease the pain and tightness his member felt, you'd let out a giggle. His eyes would snap towards you every time he heard your melodious voice, the promise of later shining bright in his eyes.

A while later, Curtis came to you to inform you that he'd be busy with Gilliam and the rest for quite sometime, discussing the revolt they were planning, so that you wouldn't have to wait up for him if he took a long while. You wished him luck, kissing him sweetly, praying that plans would become successful this time around. Curtis stole another kiss, for added good luck, of course, before disappearing behind the heavy curtains.

It had only been a short while, no more than fifteen, maybe twenty minutes - if your sense of time hadn't deceived you - when the guards came in. Not to distribute rations this time. That alone was enough to send shivers of dread down your spine. Guards appearing anytime except for when scheduled was not a good sign. Never had been, and you doubted it ever would be.

All the passengers were made to gather and stand as they would have during a head count. The kids were called forward next. Alarms rang loud and lucid in your head. Your breaths heaved and your palms got sweaty. 

The parents asked why their kids were getting grouped separately. The guards said that it was nothing more than a medical inspection, something about The Benevolent Wilford wanting to assure all the children under his roof had proper development. You couldn't help the surge of panic that rose within you, your guts coiling into knots. Even the mere suggestion of Wilford caring about the tailenders in the slightest was enough to raise eyebrows. You knew better than to trust their words.

Your head turned back, your eyes roaming over the faces behind you in search of the one man you needed beside you. To hold you, comfort you. To whisper sweet assurances, even if they were false. Curtis approached the far end of the crowd, McGregor, Gilliam and the others who had been in the meeting behind him. Not sparing a moment, Curtis made his way towards you as soon as his gaze found yours and held your hand tightly in his, giving you the comfort you were looking for. Only that time, you feared, it wasn't going to be enough for what was awaiting ahead.

The automated gates opened and in came a woman. A woman in a yellow… raincoat? Her cold eyes swept over the lot of you unimpressively, like you and those around you were nothing better than the dirt beneath her shoes, before turning to the children. Calculating eyes gazed over the innocent souls in the most unnerving of ways, so much so that even feet apart you could feel the discomfort the children felt.

She pointed to a handful of kids. The guards didn't hesitate to grab them and shove them towards the woman, forcefully if they were reluctant. She pulled out a measuring tape from one of her hidden pockets and started measuring the kids. Her painted lips spread as she smiled like a crocodile when she finally reached and measured the height of a six year old boy, Dean, you recognised. Her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when she noticed his twin, Sam, beside him. Two boys with the same, perfect height for what was needed.

She took their hands in hers but Dean, you differenced from their clothes, sharply pulled back. He proceeded to snatch his brother's hand away too but the woman in yellow was faster. She quickly took a hold of Dean's hand and tightened her grasp, her long nails digging into his soft baby skin. Dean visibly winced, not liking the strange woman's touch on himself and his brother, or the fact that she was trying to drag in a direction completely foreign to them. Away from their father, from the only home they had ever known.

"Daddy!" The green eyed boy cried, tears ready to slip down his chubby cheeks. He tried to shake the woman's hold off himself, but it was no use. Sam was much the same beside him. Struggling to get free and run back in the arms of his dad but the woman wouldn't let go.

Protests from various passengers had already begun to rise in numbers, fast and loud. John, the boys' father, hurried after his kids but the guards stopped him from getting anywhere near them. He screamed and shouted at the woman in yellow to give him his boys back, but she only paid him a smirk over her shoulder as she walked away with  what little was left of his life.

What followed next happened in mere seconds - too soon for you to realise what actually had been happening right then, but you knew the scars of which you would be carrying for a long time.

John quickly got into action, hitting the guards holding him back efficiently and instantly like the trained soldier he was. It was common knowledge that he was in the Marines when the Earth was still inhabitable. However, that had been well over a decade ago. He still had the fight, especially when his only family was at risk. But unlike the guards, he hadn't been keeping up to date with his skills.

It was the guards turn to shout and warn him to calm down, pointing their guns. John was beyond the point to care for his own life when his boys were being snatched away from him in front of his eyes. He managed to knock out a couple of guards before another shot him right through his heart. His momentum caused him to fall down on his knees before his lifeless body hit the floor with a thump, red staining the metallic floor gradually. Shocked gasps filled the coach.

The twins had been unfortunate enough to witness it. Their father, dead on the floor. The man who had raised them, gone, forever. Just like their mother, who died giving birth to them.

The brothers shrieked and wailed, fat tears rolling down their horrified eyes. They struggled harder to free themselves, but all their efforts went in vain. Desperate cries of Daddy escaped their lips, a slight ounce of hope in their naive souls that their father would rise and rescue them from whatever their fate awaited. Alas, their words only fell on dead ears.

In all the commotion and with the guards disarrayed, a little blonde girl slipped past the men and ran after the boys. "Sam, Dean!" She called out to them, her small legs carrying the four years old in short strides to the brothers. Jo, you recognised, was pretty close to the boys. They were practically raised together, like family. 

Jo had already lost her own brother from what she knew was called a fever. She wasn't ready to lose any more of her brothers. She was little, but she wasn't dumb. She once the tailenders crossed the metal gates, they never came back. Her mother lunched forward to grab her baby girl back in the safety of her arms, but the guards stopped her from going any further, no matter how hard she tried. Ellen wailed, "Jo, baby, come back! Please!"

The little girl paid no heed to her mother as she ran towards the boys, only one goal in her head. She needed to rescue the boys no matter what. The brothers cried again with renewed panic for the girl to get back to her mother. To safety. They feared she would meet the same end as their father did. They really couldn't handle knowing that they survived while the rest of their family lay dead.

Jo's short legs carried her far but not far enough. Another guard caught up to her eventually. He picked her up and carried her back to her mother. She protested, screaming her throat hoarse to let her go, to let her get to her brothers and save them, but nothing came out of it.

The guard dropped her unceremoniously a great distance away from the boys and barked at her to get back to her mother. But hell would freeze over before little Jo stopped being stubborn. She got up and again started running towards the boys despite the pain in her hip from the fall. The guards intervened again, pushing her back so hard she fell again. Yet she shot up and the whole process repeated itself. 

The guard finally took a hold of her, keeping her restrained in his arms. Jo kicked her legs in the air and punched his chest and wiggled to get free, but her strength was no match to that of a full grown man. She then bit him on his exposed arm, hard. He loudly exclaimed profanities extremely unfit for a child her age and dropped her. She attempted to run again, until she couldn't.

You were standing rather far back from the scene. A number of tall men and women stood in front of you, and you could only watch over their shoulders what the rest were being witnesses to. You heard it before you saw it. The shot.

Jo wasn't running anymore. She laid lifeless on the floor, much like John, only a few feet farther. Blood oozed from her wounded chest, forming a puddle of red around her small body.

They had shot a child. Just like that.

A child. Dead.

The brothers were well out of sight by then, but you suspected they had heard the gunshot by then. Ellen cried in agony as she watched her second child die in the train. The only family she had was gone. All gone, only in a mere few seconds.

Ellen couldn't cope up with the heart-wrenching pain she felt of losing her second child, her any and only family gone. She turned to the guard who was pointing his gun at her to warn her to stand down. The anguished mother grabbed the nozzle of the gun with both her hands and brought it to her forehead before she closed her eyes for the last time and said, "Kill me."

He did.

Walking with a fixed destination in mind, Curtis only stopped when he saw Tanya. His friend was clutching little Timmy to her chest, her arms tight and secure around her a couple months old son. Timmy was crying far too loudly than should have been possible for a small boy his size, and the mother was rubbing his back comfortingly, singing lullabies to him in her sweet melodic voice.

Tanya was tensed not only because her son was too and she didn't know how to calm him down. It was evident that the day's events had affected her deeply. It had provoked thoughts in every parent regarding the future, the safety of their children. His heart aching for his friend, Curtis slowly approached her bunk and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, "Hey Tanya, you alright? How's our little Timmy doing here?" 

She looked up at Curtis from where she was sitting, "It's all well, Curtis. It's been a long day. Timmy's just worked up."

"And you?"

Tanya looked at Curtis for a moment, knowing what he was referring to. She unconsciously held her tighter against herself, refusing to let any negative thoughts take place in her mind. "As I said Curtis, it's been a long day. I'm tired, that's all. Nothing new." 

Tanya didn't meet his gaze as she said that, knowing he'd catch the lie on her face instantly. She didn't want to think about it, let alone talk aloud about what happened that day. It'd only make all the horrors that much real, impossible to ignore. For then, she could blissfully forget the day's events and go back to being in her bubble with her child, hoping to grow old and die before her child did.

Curtis curtly nodded, somewhat understanding her reluctance to talk about the day. He desperately wanted to get back to you, to hold you in his arms and forget about the world, but he also didn't want to leave his friend alone with a crying kid who refused to cool down. He affectionately ruffled Timmy's baby hair, "Want me to take care of him for a while? I could keep him entertained, walk him up and down the aisle."

She smiled at him as she shook her head, "It's alright, Curtis, really. Timmy's being more difficult than usual, but it's nothing I can't handle. You should go check on Y/N though. I saw her earlier and she didn't look too good. She needs you," Tanya gave Curtis a once over, "And it looks like you need her too."

Curtis gave her a small smile before he continued walking down the aisle. As he made his way towards you, he avoided making eye contact with anybody he passed, only wanting to get to you as soon as possible. He carried on with his long strides, eager for the day to end.

Looking for the familiar mark to indicate his bunk, relief started settling inside him when Curtis found it, the scrap of an orange ribbon, frayed at the edges, tied around a metal pole at the head of his bunk. It was a token to show that the bunk belonged to him and you. Your own little place amongst all the rest. A surrogate to a nameplate, showing all the others that it was your home, your own little heaven in this hell, spelling Everetts if it physically could have.

You weren't actually his wife, but might as well have been by the traditions of the train - which was really just everybody acknowledging that the two of you were together, forever. You were his and he was yours. Inseparable until the end of your times. You were each other's homes.

Nearing his bunk, he found you the same way he had found you for the nearly seven years you'd been together. On your side, your back to the aisle, you were curled in around yourself, inside your own bubble, waiting for Curtis to come and join you. Waiting for him so that the two of you could get lost in each other once again, forgetting that the world was amiss and the train nothing better if not worse. Pretending that everything was fine if not rainbows and sunshine, even if just for a night, before you had to wake up the next day and face reality. Again.

Shrugging off his coat, Curtis pulled himself up to his place beside you before placing the coat over your bodies as a makeshift blanket. The curtains were drawn closed as much as possible, little streaks of light still entering and falling on the train wall through the little holes and rips.

His hand slowly crept around your waist. He pulled you closer, his hand comfortably tight around your middle and his chest firm against your back as you sunk into him. Shifting your hair out of the way, Curtis lovingly kissed your shoulder as his legs tangled with yours, his welcomed warmth seeping into you, letting you know that you were safe and sound and protected against any evil in the world.

A smile automatically overtook your face as your when you felt his presence. Your hand left the pendent around your neck you were idly playing with and rested against his hand instead. You laid like that for a while, basking in each other's hold, cheering for the fact that you were done for the day.

The need to pretend, to be strong, to feel responsible, to keep a calm mind at any and all times for everyone was over. You only had to look after yourselves then. You could be frail, vulnerable, and uncertain of everything in the future ahead together, except for the fact that he would be with you and you would be with him. Always. And the knowledge of that alone was enough to strengthen the two of you together, to keep you going, to keep the fire of fighting ablaze inside you. Two uneven pieces making a whole.

But for then, if only for a few hours, you wanted to forget everything else. You wanted to be blissfully ignorant of all that was wrong with the world, with the train. For then, you only wanted to focus on what was right in front of you without any worries on your head. You only wanted to focus on the warm and fuzzy feelings inside you as Curtis laid behind you, holding you in his arms, your limbs entangled with his. 

You turned around in the little space, facing Curtis. One of your hands was draped over his form while the other bunched up his plaid shirt in its grasp. You kissed his chest before settling contentedly against him, your head tucked under his chin. His arm soothingly traversed up and down your back, relaxing you like nothing else ever could.

Snuggling into him, you asked, "How was the meeting with McGregor and the others today?"

"It was a mess," he huffed. After the guards came, he wanted to add, but knowing you didn't want to talk about it just yet, he didn't. "John and Ellen were supposed to lead the revolt along with McGregor and the rest, you know. Now with them...gone, whatever plan of action we had has crumbled into nothing."

"Oh," you said, unsure of what you expected to hear in the first place. 

"We all just need some time, that's all. We'll get back on track soon." Curtis said, his free hand caressing your head.

"And how are you?" you asked, pulling back a little to look at him.

"Not good," he truthfully answered, "But I'll be fine. What about you, Y/N?" He asked, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek.

"Not good either," You sighed, "But we'll be fine soon." You said, smiling at him.

Curtis gave you a short smile of his own, his eyes sharing the same hope and optimism as you, "Yeah, we will be." He said, leaning down to kiss your lips. It was slow and sweet at first, his lips slightly chapped but soft against your, his love pouring out for you with the gentle touch. He meant for it to be short, but you deepened the kiss, your lips pressing hardly against his, letting it become rough and heated.

You swallowed the deep gravely moan Curtis let out at the suddenness of you taking control. He was enjoying it quite a bit. Your hands were just as frenzied as your lips. Grabbing his neck with one hand you pulled his head closer to yours, while the other roamed the expanse of his chest, greedily feeling him up.

His arms tightened around you on instinct, pulling you further into him, forbidding any inch of space from existing between your forms. Your legs slid from between his to over his. You propelled yourself up on your elbows on your side, pushing Curtis on his back. 

Your hair fell down your shoulders framing your face as you gained yourself a few inches over him. Cur brought a hand up to your face, gently tucking the loose strands of your hair behind your ear as much as he could. He locked his hand in your hair and abruptly pulled your head down, not liking the distance the change in position put between you one bit. Satisfied with being as physically close to you as possible, he gave up the reins to your control again.

Your kisses were wet and loud and noisy as your lips smacked his, unbridled with need. Need for too many things at once. To forget the horror you saw today. To forget the pain you imagined the victims must have felt, the anguish they must have gone through that day at losing their loved ones that they didn't give one damn about their own lives. To forget the atrocities of the train. To forget the one thought that resonated inside your head, refusing to leave you alone.

Today it was someone else's child. Will tomorrow it be yours?

Death wasn't something uncommon in the tail end. People had come to deal with the fact after years of experience, after years of passive torture. Despite that, death of children was still disturbing for many. 

That day, two families were wasted. Children were abducted in broad daylight and none could do anything about it. A father, a woman, a child, all shot in cold blood because they dared to fight for their family, to defy the order of the train. 

Everybody in or entering the tail end was a soldier that day. Some wore black helmets and bulletproof vests and carried guns to follow the orders from the above while some fought with their lives in order to attain a life worth fighting for. The only difference was that some had to fight because it was their duty, and some had to fight because it was their family.

No, you and Curtis were not trying for a child. Neither him nor you ever wanted to bring another innocent soul in the train to suffer the way you did. You couldn't put anybody else through that.

But life is all about the choices we never get to make - or rather those which are already made for us.

Hardly any medical aid was available in the tail end. Forget about drugs or contraptions to prevent pregnancy. Abortions weren't choice either. The age old pull out method seemed to be the only way. It wasn't really reliable, but it was the only option at hand. 

You and Curtis had had the a about before. If, by chance, a child was conceived, they'd be raised by the pair of you, loved to no ends. But the question of letting a child enter this chaotic mess would still be an if and not a when.

You slotted your lips more fiercely against his, letting all your thoughts be clouded by just one. Curtis. Curtis. Curtis. His lips making wet smacking noises against yours, your hands tracing the firmness of his chest. His hand in your hair, other on your back. Your body lying half on top of him, sinking into the feel of him, the familiarity, the feel of his touch, his heat. Your leg lying in between his, feeling him gradually harden against your thigh.

No matter how much Curtis was enjoying your attention and the roughness you brought on, he couldn't help but be worried about you. Though he had fleeting suspicion why you were doing what you were doing and knew what you needed that night, he didn't want to make any assumptions. He needed to hear you say it. 

Reluctantly, he pulled back. His chest heaved with panting breaths. As did yours. He opened his eyes to look at you. Even in the dark, he could make out your troubled face, "Babe, are you alright? What do you need me to do?" He asked, his fingers gently smoothing down your cheek. You hated that the worrisome tone in his voice was caused by you.

"Today was terrible, Curtis. It was so, so terrible." You said, your eyes still closed shut. 

"I know, sweetheart," Curtis said, closing his own eyes. Unknowingly, he gripped you tighter in his arms, "I know." He whispered. He hated not being able to help you with whatever trouble you were going through, to protect you from the pain you felt.

"What do you need me to do, Y/N?" He repeated in a softer voice, ready to anything you asked of him, to ease both his pain and yours.

"Let's forget tonight happened. For now, at least. I don't ever want to think about what happened with those children. We couldn't save them; we didn't even try. I- I can't…" You wanted to tell him about all the thoughts bouncing around in your brain, but you didn't want to worry him any further. With the talks of the revolt, he already had too much on his plate. Even if Curtis didn't show it, you knew today wasn't easy on him either. You both needed to vent the feelings, the constant unease at the knowledge of what happened, the pain.

"Let's replace those memories, Curtis. With good ones, better ones. I can't think of what happened to them anymore. Distract me, baby. Please," You leaned your forehead down on his, "Just please." You only knew one way how to "Fuck me, Curtis. Fuck me rough and hard." You breathed.

"Are you sure, honey?" 

You frantically nodded, "Please."

"Gladly. Will make you feel so good, Y/N."

In an instant he had his hand in your hair and your lips back on his. The shift in the dynamic from earlier was almost instantaneous. Despite being on top of him, Curtis was the one in control. Every inch of his body proved that. It was exactly what you needed, what you had asked for. 

And now you were going to get it.

His lips were soft yet firm as the rest of him, devouring you with a never-ending hunger. His tongue swept across your lower lip before pushing against it, demanding entrance. You were more than happy to provide it.

Though his tongue was soft and smooth, there was nothing soft about the way his tongue mingled with yours, hot and wet, playing with it skilfully,  manoeuvring it the way he wanted, imposing itself on you, fighting a battle with yours you were losing. You wouldn't have had it any other way.

His free hand slid along your sides before coming to rest underneath your breasts. He slowly inched his hand forward to cup your breast, letting his fingers run over it as his rough hands gently squeezing and groping the swell in his palm. He loved the softness he felt through the layers and played with it a bit more roughly. Not hard enough to cause discomfort, but enough to let the sensations turn you on and set the mood.

You couldn't help but let out a whimper, "Curtis…"

His hands left your boob in favour of your ass. He rubbed the curve of your butt before striking his palm across your clothed bottom without any preamble. A shocked gasp escaped your lips as the light sting sent tingles down your spine.

"Wanna try that again, baby girl?" Curtis asked, gently massaging your ass though he hadn't spanked it that hard. Oh well, he didn't need any reason to comfort you.

Realising what Curtis wanted, you brought your lips close to his ear and seductively whispered, "Daddy,"

A growl left him, which only made you hungrier for him. "That's right, my sweet girl. You're gonna let Daddy take care of you, aren't you? You're gonna let Daddy show you a good time, hmm? Gonna let him show you how much he loves you, isn't that right?"

You nodded, the tip of your nose rubbing his cheek. "Mhmm, Daddy. Please." 

His hands crept under your shirt, running up and down your skin. He bunched up the layers, "Don't you want to get rid of these, baby girl? Let me see you, feel every inch of you?" He asked, silently asking if you were ready to undress yet, giving you an out for the moment if you wanted it. 

Instead of giving an answer, you gave his lips a quick peck before you sat on your back and started removing the layers. Though you wanted to get back to kissing Curtis as fast as possible, you knew he enjoyed watching you strip just for him. You decided to calm your libido for a moment to put on a show for the love of your life, slowly discarding one layer after the other as sensually as you could manage.

It was hard in the cramped bunk, and it probably would have looked much sexier if you had the luxury of some open space, but all the could haves and would haves left your brain when you saw the way Curtis was looking at you. No matter the place, no matter the space, you were still the sexiest person to Curtis.

You could see it in his eyes, in the way he looked at you, the way his eyes followed every movement of your hands, mouth agape, breathing hard at your sheer beauty. With a ravenous, a desire which could be quelled by you and only you. 

As the last piece of clothing left your body, Curtis gripped your wrist and pulled you. You fell on him unceremoniously as a shriek of surprise escaped you. His mouth was on yours in no time, kissing you with renewed passion. 

Circling one arm around the back of your head and the other around your middle, he flipped you slowly, getting on top of you. His thigh settled itself between your legs. He pressed his lips to your jaw, sucking lightly. His hand came up to your breasts and he massaged the softness in his palm, feeling your nub harden against his skin and loving it.

You felt his hardness on your thigh from the position he laid in over you. It caused heat to pool in your center, knowing he it was you who caused it, that he was hard for only you and was going to ravage you with it. The thought itself sent your heart thrumming with excitement. 

Curtis trailed his lips along your jaw line and down your neck, paying special attention to that spot above your collarbone which made you weak in the knees. "Fuck, Y/N, you're so beautiful," he whispered against your skin, his hot breath leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

Travelling further down, his lips came to a stop in front of your boob. He pecked your peak before sucking it between his lips. His hot, moist tongue lapped at it, circling it and flicking it, making your breath quicken with how good it felt. His hand played with your other boob, only adding to the heavenly feels running down your spine.

He switched between your breasts, careful to give the same attention to the other as well. You hissed as his warm mouth left your peak in favour of the other, exposing it to the cool air inside the train. His warm hands came to the rescue, tenderly fondling your now wet pebble.

Curtis altered his affection between your breasts every now and then, loving the weight, the feel of your soft boobs in his palm and your taste on his tongue. He eagerly sucked your nipples and played with them, swearing he could go on like that forever. Shrugging off his beanie, your fingers raked through his short hair, grasping as much as you could as you very much enjoyed the attention he gave you. You did not realise that your center was gradually getting wet with your slick. 

Curtis must have though, your wetness again his thigh, because his hands streamed down to your folds. His mouth left your pebble with a pop before he slotted his mouth next to your ear. You could practically hear him smirk in his voice as he ran his fingers through your folds and said, "What's this princess?You're all wet and slimy, huh?" 

Curtis brought his fingers to your bundle of nerves, just hovering above it, touching you but never really touching it. Your body anticipated the feel of his skin on yours but it never came. His touch was light and teasing thereafter, his fingers barely brushing over your sensitive pearl. You whined, desperate for him to touch you, love you, mark you, make you feel the rush he had had countless times before. 

Collecting your slick on his fingers, he brought them to your clit, giving it a few experimental rolls gently. A low moan left your lips as your mind received more pleasurable sensations from your nether regions. You bit your lip to keep the moan inside you.

"You are a needy little thing, aren’t ya?" Curtis said, his voice husky and oh so sexy, you couldn't help the low moans inside your throat.

"Curtis…"

Suddenly his hand slapped your clit, which was becoming more and more sensitive by second. "Ah," you whimpered, a wave of both pleasure and pain going through you. You weren't sure which you enjoyed better.

"Why do I have to keep reminding you all the time, baby?" He said, going back to gently circling your nub, soothing the pain.

One of your arms came down from his hair to wrap around his bicep, "Sorry, Daddy," you said, letting him know that it won't happen again.

"Shh, baby, it's alright. Now just sit back and enjoy. I'm going to make your night so fun, Y/N." He said, kissing your cheek before focusing all his attention on pleasuring you, giving you the relief you deserved.

His calloused fingers worked your bundle of nerves in short circular strokes with increased pace. Curtis deployed his years worth of knowledge, stimulating your pearl every way he knew would set your nerves on fire. The firm pad of his fingers, rough from years of labour, felt nothing short of heaven on your sensitive skin. 

Your eyes closed of their own accord, your body focused on relishing in all the attention it got from the only man it desired. You loved feeling his weight atop you, holding you down, anchoring you to the world, anchoring you to him. You took comfort in the familiarity of his touch, knowing he would be the one constant in your life in this  constantly moving train.

His mouth fell back on yours, his lips and tongue caressing yours fervidly. His finger slipped down to your folds, running through folds, covering it in your wetness. You were so focused on his kisses that you didn't notice it until his finger started entering you.

Your inner muscles clamped his finger tighter as he inserted it deeper. You mewled into his mouth at the intrusion, loving and hating it simultaneously. He drew it in and out of you slowly, letting you get adjusted to it. 

You could feel more of your wetness eventually rush out to ease his finger into you. He kept his movements slow and sweet in the start. When he felt you were wet enough, the real show began. 

The heel of his palm came down on your bundle of nerves, rolling it with just the right amount of pressure as his finger slipped inside you. He loved the way your walls felt snugly around him. His member twitched against your thigh just thinking about how good he would feel when he'd be inside you wholly.

Curtis increased his pace gradually. He slowly added another finger inside you too, not giving you as much time as earlier to adjust. It wasn't much of a problem since you were already wet enough. His fingers were long and thick inside your tight channel, brushing against just the right spots to make your body thrum with need for more; for him, for all of him. 

Curtis pressed his lips against the sensitive spot below your ear, sucking very gently nibbling your skin. You tilted your head to give him more skin to work with without thinking. If there was one thing Curtis loved more than feeling you, it was marking you. He loved leaving behind spots of his affection on your skin, especially on the visible parts for everyone to know that you were his and only his. 

It was also a way of him self assuring himself too, to always remember that you chose to be his. To remember that you thought he was deserving of your company, your friendship, your love, when he knew he was deserving of something even less and bitter than nothing. To remember how lucky he had been to have you by his side and be given the opportunity to be by your side, forever.

Curtis trailed his lips down your neck and to your chest, sucking, nibbling, licking your delicate skin along its way, littering your upper half with his kisses and hickeys. Those right above the swell of your breasts were just for his eyes to cherish. His palm remained above your clit, grinding your sensitive nub insistently, drawing out helpless little moans from you which went straight to his cock. 

The coil started tightening in your belly. Your pussy made wet squelching sounds as Curtis steadily drove his fingers inside you, gradually increasing his speed. Every touch of his fingers, his palm, his lips against your sensitive parts sent a roars of pleasure tumbling through you. Every muscle of your body tensed in anticipation of the relief it was to receive soon. Your legs opened wider of their own accord, your thighs clenching.

You wiggled underneath Curtis as you neared the edge, your body desperate for the sweet release. Noticing the signs, Curtis doubled his efforts. His fingers curled inside you just the right way, activating a new set of far more pleasurable impulses through your veins, your eyes already shut. You moaned and groaned as he worked you closer to the edge.

You were so close. So, so close to the relief.

And then nothing.

Curtis withdrew his hands a few seconds before he could push you over the edge. Your body dropped from the high it was about to float in. Your eyes opened instantly, pure shock and disbelief on your face as your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, your mind trying to make sense of what just happened and why. 

The coil in your belly was still wound tight, eager to be uncoiled, your body still tensed, waiting for the relief which never came. Your free hand which wasn't clutching his hair came down to finish the job yourself, but caught your wrist in his hand before it could reach your pelvis and stationed it beside your head, locked in his grip.

"You like being a little tease, don't you? Well it's time I show you what happens to little teases." Curtis said, studying your face, especially your lust filled frenzied eyes intently. 

"Daddy," you mewled, begging him to bring you your release.

Curtis tsked, "No, no, baby. You're not going to cum so easily. You've been a very naughty girl tonight, princess. You've teased daddy all day long, now it's time for you to pay the consequences."

You whined pathetically beneath him, "Daddy, please, I need to cum." Your shrill voice said.

"Nuh uh. You're only gonna cum when I tell you to come. And you'll only come on my cock, baby girl." Curtis talking about his cock which was very much noticeable and hard against your thigh only wound you up tighter, your pussy clenching around nothing as lewd images entered your brain. You wiggled even more underneath him, but he laid one arm firm around your middle, holding you in place. He whispered in his husky voice in a sing-song time, "I told you that you were going to regret all that teasing later, baby girl." 

Curtis was denying your orgasms because you had tried to tease him earlier, fulfilling his promise of later. Though you knew you had asked for it, made him promise it even if speaking literally, you honestly didn't know if you were more turned on or frustrated at the moment. Perhaps a mix of both, you decided.

Curtis didn't let you stay frustrated for long, though. His smirking lips kissed along your jawline. After being sure that you were down from your high, his grip left your wrist as his fingers coated in your slick slid down your torso and back to your clit. He started it all over again, the teasing, the swirling, except he didn't start it light. 

His breath was warm against your earlobe. Low grunts fell out of his mouth as he drew various patterns on your bundle of nerves. They were nearly inaudible, but enough to send a new wave of desire coursing through you. He withdrew his hand again.

Before you could protest, Curtis tapped your thighs, "Move up, honey. Make space for me. Hold those legs back and bare yourself to me. I want to taste you, pretty girl, take my time and eat that delicious pussy." His wanton words made your clit throb with need as you did what he said. 

Curtis wasted no time in situating himself between your legs which were open wide only for him. His lips laid kisses on your skin from your neck to your belly before inevitably reaching your center. Making himself comfortable, he placed both your thighs on his shoulders, his hands circling them both from the outside to you fixed in one spot.

He held eye contact with you as he slowly kissed the inside of your thighs before closing his eyes and focusing on laying hickeys on your skin. Now inches away from your heat, he could smell your arousal, which went straight to his head. He took in a deep breath, taking more of your scent in and loving it. 

Curtis couldn't wait to get his mouth on you, so he did just that. Swiping your slit with his tongue once, his mouth enclosed around your clit. His tongue was warmer than his fingers as he attached it to your sensitive pearl, rolling it in circles. 

Curtis loved the taste of your arousal on his tongue, knowing it was all for him. He was hungry for more of it, to taste the tangy sweetness of your cum, but he knew he had to teach you a lesson before he could get there. Nevertheless, he'd enjoy taste and relish in it until he'd eat you closer to the edge again. 

"Daddy," you moaned as Curtis ate you with passion, his face buried between your legs. His beard slightly scratched against your inner thighs, leaving a delicious burn where it touched. Both your hands took hold of his hair again, pushing his head further down on your pussy.

Curtis shook his head between your legs, his tongue playing with your clit as he did so. You moaned harder for him, all his movements sending your mind on a rush. He brought one of his hands to your heat, his fingers running through your slit but never entering you, teasing you some more.

It killed you inside, feeling his fingers in between your folds but not inside you. You pushed your hips off the bunk, eager for more of his touch. Curtis freed his other hand from your thighs to pin your waist down. You still squirmed in his hold, but his strong arms kept you down.

You whined for him to enter you, but he kept his touches feather light, barely giving you a taste. He finally placed a sole finger on your entrance but still didn't enter. He massaged your entrance with quick short strokes, sending tingles down your spine. 

He pulled back to look at you struggling to keep your composure. The desperation to feel him inside you was clear on your face. "You wanted to play and here I am. Playing with your sweet little pussy."

He watched you wither under his ministrations, mewls and moans escaping your lips as he teased your mind away. He loved watching you be so helpless, only one thing clouding your brain now. The want for release, and Curtis was the only one who could give you that. 

When he thought he had teased you enough for the moment, he collected your arousal and inserted a couple of fingers inside you. This time round it was easier to slide them in. You gasped at the intrusion, but settled down quickly as he started fingering you right away. 

His tongue lapped shamelessly on your bundle of nerves, taking whatever he could get, taking all that you had to offer. Clamping his lips around your hood, he sucked it hard, letting it stretch slightly as he pulled his head back and released it to let it curl on itself, taking it back in his wet mouth and repeating it again. 

Long, thick fingers pumped into you with just as much fervour as his tongue worked on your clit. His fingers curled inside you, repeatedly touching the spots which aroused you even further. Something about his presence between your legs, hands grabbing you, his fingers snuggled by your walls, owning you from the inside, it reminded you how much what was in between your legs was his to love and devour sending your heart racing at the sense belonging. Your channel felt full of him as he pleasured you into oblivion. 

"That’s right baby, let daddy play with your pussy until you’re soaked so he can slip in and fuck you until you’re completely senseless."

Curtis lightly slapped your sensitive nub a couple of times before slotting it in his mouth, soothing the light sting away, sucking and licking it with passion. His tongue drew various patterns on your pearl, worshipping it, setting your nerves ablaze. He moaned against it as he ate you out. 

The vibrations against your clit as he hummed low in his throat, his warm mouth sucking it and his fingers satiating the need of your pulsing walls, all of it sent a myriad of pleasing sensations to your brain. Your body tensed once again as you neared your high. You arched your back, restless to fall over the edge and achieve your release. Your eyes were closed shut as whimpers and moans fell out your lips, a sweet melody to Curtis' ears.

You moaned harder, your grip on his hair and involuntary wiggle of your hips increasing, letting Curtis know you were close. Quite mercilessly, he completely pulled away from you, never letting you attain the high you so desperately desired yet again. 

"Daddy, no, please, make me cum!" you begged, the need to come blindsiding every thought to the dark recess of your mind. 

Curtis placed a quick kiss to your sensitive pearl before he sat back on his knees, which only left it needily pulsing for more. "Not yet, baby doll. Daddy knows exactly what you need and want, and no one else can give it to ya. Isn't that right?" 

You eagerly nodded, but you still wanted to reach a peak before what little of the high you had came crashing down, "But Daddy-"

Leaning over you, Curtis rested a hand on your cheek, gently cradling your it, "You can pout or be moody, but you know that daddy is the only one who will love and use you like you're meant to be baby." 

He kissed your cheeks before placing a hard, bruising kiss on your lips, "I love edging you. Bringing you the very edge and making you stop. Ruining every potential orgasm until you just can’t hold it any longer. Don't ever forget who that pussy belongs to. You only nod and obey. That body belongs to daddy, so any resistance would be futile my lovely girl. Understood?" You nodded, turned on even more if that was possible.

Curtis pulled back to start undressing, "Now, baby, I think it's time for you to sit on my cock, don't you agree?"

Your eyes lit up at the mere thought of his member filling you, your walls clenching on thin air at the memory, "Mhmm, I want your cock inside me."

He smirked in that signature way of his, his eyes shining too, "And you'll get it baby." 

Curtis had been painfully hard in his pants this entire time. Playing with your body, sucking, licking, fingering, tasting your arousal, none of it helped his situation at all. Now that he had your pussy all wet and spread and ready for him, he couldn't wait another moment to get inside you. 

You watched with hungry eyes as Curtis discarded each layer impatiently, revealing his body, soft in some places and hard in others. 

As he pulled his pants and boxer off of him, his length finally free of the constraint, it twitched, slightly bobbing in the air. You started at it, licking your lips as your brain was engrossed in wayward carnal thoughts. You were sure that if you'd have positively started drooling had you stared any longer.

Curtis switched positions, laying on his back. You happily spread your legs on each side of him and sat on his center, eager to get his shaft inside your heat which ached for him. He lifted you by your hips, his other hand gripping his pole and running it through your slit, draping it in your wetness. He rubbed your clit with his cockhead to mess with you some more. You whimpered, dying to get his cock inside you.

"You want to sink down on Daddy's cock like a good little slut?" Curtis asked, enjoying the thirsty look on your face. 

"Yuh uh, please!" You begged, rolling your hips to get him inside you anyhow.

"That's a good girl. Don't worry, pretty girl, I'll give it to ya." Curtis praised,  relenting to your wishes, restless himself, and positioned his round blunt head at your entrance. You let out a sharp gasp as he pulled you down in one swift motion, hissing as his thick meat stretched you wide open. In spite of the way he had prepped you, letting your arousal make you wet enough and his fingers relaxing your inner wound muscles, nothing could prepare you for his cock other than his cock itself.

There was a slight burn in your channel at the abrupt incursion, ebbing away gradually as the pain was sidelined by the pleasure of having him inside you. His member filled you completely, hard and thick inside you. "Fuck, ugh, it feels so good," you moaned quite loudly, tilting your head back from the rush in your veins.

Clutching your wrist, Curtis pulled your vertical body towards him, making you lay on him. He circled his arms around your shoulders, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Breathing deeply, eyes closed shut, he concentrated with all his might not to cum then and there inside you.

He tried not to focus on how your warm lubricated walls were snuggling his hard member, hugging him tight in their clasp. He tried not to focus on how smooth and velvety your core felt from the inside, the perfect place for him to be for all eternity. He tried not to focus on how your walls were pulsing with need against his painfully hard shaft, muting every other senses and clouding his brain with how heavenly you felt.

"Mmm, it feels so good Y/N, your warm little pussy squeezing my cock," Curtis moaned behind you when he thought he could control himself and not cum on the spot.

You lifted your hips, eager to start fucking him but Curtis gripped them and kept you grounded with his shaft inside you, "Did you think you'd get away with teasing me so easily, baby? Not so soon, sweetheart. You know I always get my way."

You whimpered, wondering how long he'd make you wait until you'd finally get to cum. It was hard, having his cock buried deep inside you but not being allowed to couldn't move. It was border line torture of a sexy kind, giving you what you desired the most and yet not being able to reap it's pleasure. 

All your thoughts, your senses were dimmed, your mind only registering one fact that Curtis was wedged inside you, hard and ready to pound. It only registered that your tight walls could feel the veins outlining his cock. Your walls clenched around him involuntarily.

A sharp slap landed on your ass, the hand that did it almost instantly kneading it, relieving the sting, "Don't tease me anymore, baby doll. You might not like what'll come next. Don't clench around me or tempt me or try to move. You're already so fucking tempting, I don't need anymore encouragement. You come only when I tell you to come, ya hear me?"

You couldn't help but pout, your lower lip sticking out, begging to be bit and sucked. Curtis chuckled darkly, "Oh my sweet little slut, let's not pretend you don't love it when I use you like a plaything."

You didn't know how or why you became so bold when you said it. Perhaps it was the deep seated longing for the release that you were denied, or you were too turned on, your brain too focused on your sole needs that you were beyond the line to care as you said, "I’m not pretending, just being a little bratty."

Curtis growled, his gravely making you clench him some more. "Well, bratty girls need to be taught some lessons, don't they?" He said, landing one, two, three, four, five blows on your ass on each cheek alternatively before you had the time to process what was happening. He quickly added another to even the score. A string of gasps and moans and whimpers left you, leaving you heaving on his chest.

"Shh, baby girl, it's alright," Curtis mumbled in your ear, his hand caressing the burn away with gentle hands, "You said it yourself, you were being bratty. This is how bratty girls get treated, honey. Now keep my cock warm like the good little slut you are." His mouth kissed along your cheek until you turned your head and kissed him full on the lips. Your tongue slid in and toyed with his to distract you from the sting on your rear or his member inside your center or the knowledge that the combined mixture of it all was only turning you on even more, raising you higher on the horny scale. 

Maybe it was because of his talented tongue inside your mouth, taking what it wanted from you, however it desired. Maybe it was his warm, gentle hands soothing the sting he left behind with delicate caresses on your tender skin. Maybe it was the aftertaste of the slight burn on your rear itself which set your nerves on fire. Maybe it was because your body was already wound tight from not being able to achieve the high, from being edged your mind away. Maybe it was solely because of his thick, throbbing shaft snuggly fixed inside your slick walls, keeping you full; because you could feel the bulky vein very much prominent on his underside pulsing against your walls. Or maybe it was all of it at once, adding little by little to the outcome, making it too much for your body to handle at once.

Curtis had warned you not to clench his cock. You didn't. Not exactly, anyway. You came on it.

You moaned and groaned unbelieving in his mouth as your body finally let go, falling over the edge deep and hard. Curtis had tried to restrain your body by keeping his hands firm on your hip, but he couldn't stop the way you rolled your pelvis against his, your clit getting some action against his skin and his cock rubbing your walls, prolonging your much awaited orgasm.

Your toes curled and your thighs shook from the sheer force at which you came. Your nerves sang with pleasure and you swore you saw stars before your closed eyelids. You were you'd reached heaven for a second there, for the mind shattering pleasure coursing through you was hardly experienced before. 

It was unexpected for Curtis, your orgasm jumping at him out of the blue. It was hard controlling himself when your walls were tight around him, even harder for him when they unconsciously clenched his member now and then. But once came, all his game was thrown off the table. He too was painfully hard and on edge since he'd started teasing you. He couldn't control himself as he felt your walls clenching him not once or twice but continuously, your warm insides pulsing without restrain on his aching member.

Curtis quickly turned you around on your back and pulled out of you, stroking his cock above your abdomen to finish. You watched with hooded eyes his face contort in pleasure, his hand working fast on his meat as loud gowns and grunts rose in his throat. Hot, thick ropes of his cum fell on your belly in spurts as he fisted himself, all his restrain tumbling down the drain.

As he finally finished, his head dropped on your shoulder, his heavy shaft softening against your thigh as he draped his body over yours. You laid there like that for a while, both your bodies and arms too tired to move, minds too mushy to process anything else, no one speaking, eyes closed, breaths heavy, chests heaving with loud pants, an expression of pure bliss on your faces.

It was quite for a moment, until your gasp invaded the silence. Curtis' hand was back on your clit, even though the rest of him was momentarily exhausted. He

rolled it languidly, but even the slightest of pressure on your sensitive nub was enough to set your nerves awake.

"You came baby girl," He said before you could ask him what he was doing, followed by a slap on your bundle of nerves. You almost jumped, but his weight kept you pinned. "Without my permission," He continued, another slap following in its wake. You let a whimper, the harsh touch too much on your sensitive nub. 

"I couldn't control it." You rushed, hoping Curtis would let go.

"You wanted to come real bad, didn't you?" He asked, his voice soft.

You nodded, "Yes, Daddy. You worked me so well, I couldn't help it. I needed to cum." 

"Ok, baby, I believe ya," Curtis said, swirling your pearl still but gently. Just when you thought he'd stop with the slapping, another landed on your nub, "My pretty girl wanted to cum so bad she ignored Daddy's orders. Daddy said he'd give you what you wanted, didn't he? Well, baby doll, I hope you're ready for what you asked for, because I'm gonna make you come again," A slap, "And again," Another slap, "And again."

His fingers set hard to work on your bundle of nerves, rolling and swirling it this way and that with a newfound vengeance. You weren't sure if you were gasping or moaning, or maybe doing both at the same time as his stimulated you yet again. You were already so sensitive from your previous orgasm, you didn't know how you could manage another.

Curtis brought his mouth closer to your ear, his hot breath hitting your heated skin, "Messy little girl, made my dick all wet with your juices." He said, his hand wedged between your legs doing all sorts of things to shut your brain from any rational thoughts.

"Going to make you cum till you're numb." He promised as his mouth went to your neck, his lips re-tracing the hickeys he had left. His fingers increased their pace on you, steadily bringing you to the edge one more time. You moaned without a care in the world, you mind drunk on the feels it received. Your hips rose off the bunk to meet his fingers, chasing the rush it'd bring.

His length twitched against your thigh, gradually hardening to its glory with the lewd sounds coming out of your lips. Curtis groaned along with you, getting further turned on by the sight of you helpless beneath him, his blood racing to his cock. He started bucking himself against your thigh, looking for some stimulation himself. 

Knowing he was getting hard again, that he'd impale you on his cock again, use you the way you liked, the way you desired, it brought you close to the edge. You moans grew louder and you core tightened in anticipation of another release. 

"Go on baby, cum on my fingers and show daddy what a filthy girl you've become for him." A few more moments in, a few more strokes later, you came on his fingers, loud and thrashing, his words tipping you over the edge, his name falling off your lips like a prayer, your wetness dribbling down your thighs.

It was all the time Curtis required to be hard and ready to pound you into another dimension. Taking a rag from the sides, he wiped his drying cum on your abdomen and gently got rid of any leftover cum on his head. He settled himself between your legs, his hands grabbed your legs and roughly brought your pelvis closer to his, your inner thighs slick with your cum resting on his.

Taking himself in his hands, he stroked his shaft a couple of times, running it through your slit to coat himself on your lingering wetness. He thrust his length at once, all of himself rooted in all of you. A cry left you, whether of pain or pleasure, that you were unsure of. He could have given you time to adjust to his long thick length, but he didn't. He started thrusting into you hard and fast, loving the groans falling out of you.

After all, you had said that you wanted his cock inside yourself and that you wanted, no, needed to cum. He was only giving you what you had desired.

"Ah, Daddy," You moaned, his cock fucking you nice and deep, keeping you filled with his meat the way you wanted him to. 

"Yes Baby, feel that cock deep inside!" Curtis groaned near your ear, his gravely voice making you clench his shaft some more. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," You groaned along with each hard thrust of his hips which kept coming quite fast. You could tell by the way he drove his hips into you how much frustration he had in himself to take out, to vent. He too wanted to forget, or at least be distracted for the moment. He wanted to be lost in you, your body, your mind. He didn't ever want to resurface again to face the reality, to carry the weight into another day, to ever feel responsible for things he wasn't supposed to, but still did.

So he cherished every fleeting second he had with you, relished in feeling every inch of your body, savouring the sinful sounds you made just for him, luxuriating in your feel, taking delight in the fact that he was the one to turn your brain into mush, to have your mind concentrated only on the feels he gave you. And he was loving every moment of it. 

Your body was heated like his under his own. Curtis loved the feeling of your breasts jiggling against his chest as he pummelled into you. One hand by your shoulders to support his weight and other on your hip, he loved pressing his body down on you, keeping you pinned underneath him as he drove into you heat with a wild passion, his fingers digging into your hips so hard that it'd leave his handprint for a few hours at least, marking you some more. He loved watching the faces you made, your face contorting with pleasure as he touched every inch of your body inside and out, your eyes closed shut, brows furrowed and mouth agape as you chased the orgasm you were about to receive on his cock.

"Fuck, baby, you're doing so well," He moaned, low-key screaming with how good you felt stuffed full of him. He repositioned himself so that he could lock his hand on your hair and pull your head to one side, baring your for him to suck and lick. "When I'm done pounding your beautiful wet pussy, I'll pull out and cover your sexy body, from your pretty face to your throbbing nub in a huge load. And then watch you as you'd lick it all up, driving me crazy, making me ram my cock inside you for another round."

"The pull on your hair as he tugged your head to one side was driving you insane. Your back arched off the bunk as he fucked you with abandonment, unrelenting, unforgiving in its stride. Your bundle of nerves throbbed with every word he spoke. The change in position made his thick cock touch all those spots deep inside which craved to be touched, especially the one that made you see stars in broad trainlight. His cock brushed against it repeatedly as he fucked you into the bunk, your body singing in joy. 

"I love the way your body feels on my hands, almost as much as I love the way your little pussy feels on my throbbing hard cock." Curtis said, framing an arm around your waist to keep you in one place. 

"Curtis…" You moaned in your high pitched voice again and again like a broken record player. Maybe you were broken by his cock, but you were sure it was in the best ways possible. 

Curtis was so lost in feeling your warm pussy clench his shaft with every naughty word he spoke that he didn't notice the slip you made. Maybe he did but didn't care, because in that moment, hearing his name fall out of your lips repeatedly in such sinful moans, it gave him another high. He rocked into you with renewed vigour, his skin making slapping noises in the quiet as he met you thrust with thrust, your walls making wet noises as his cock drove into your cum covered channel.

Your moans came off more broken as he increased his pace, your mind only processing mumble jumble by now. You couldn't hold it in any longer with all those impulses your mind received. A wave of euphoria washed over you as you came again on his cock, your moans and groans dialling up a notch.

"Yes baby, cover my cock in your cum." Your walls clenched uncontrollably on his shaft, keeping him in its tight grip and Curtis had to focus not to cum. He was determined to make himself last though, to make you cum once again on his cock like his sweet little bitch. 

His hands came to your bundle of nerves, swirling it with practised ease to prolong your orgasm as his cock fucked you through your orgasm. Your pearl was a little sore at first from all the action it had received, but now having fallen over the edge and your mind a jammed network of endorphins, your body could only perceive it as pleasure. 

"Daddy," You cried loudly as his hips kept pistoning into you even after you came as if nothing had just happened. "Too much," you said, unable to form complete sentences.

"Just one more, princess. You can do it." Curtis encouraged, your body already building up the high to fall over the edge for one more time.

"You like that, don't you, baby girl?" He continued, "My hands on your body, my cock inside your pussy, making you come again and again."

Your moans answered for you just how right he was. He chuckled breathlessly, his hips rocking into you relentlessly, "That's my girl. For me to use whenever, wherever and however i want. My pretty girl, my slut." He groaned, "Only. Mine." His thrust accompanying each word, his cock settling nice and deep inside your before pulling back to rock into you again, rocking your world, sending you to joy land.

"You seem so pretty and innocent at first, but when daddy has his grip, you turn into his personal little slut. The filthiest, but only for Daddy." 

Your insides were screaming with the rush it received, your hands clawing at his back with the need to hold onto something. Your mind could only think about one thing and one thing only: Curtis fucking you hard with his thick veiny member and swirling your bundle of nerves to your impending orgasm. You were a moaning mess beneath him, your hips rising to meet his thrust to thrust. His moans falling on your ear in that husky voice of his was driving you crazy, your bodies drunk on each other.

Your high never really came down from your previous orgasm. It wasn't late until your body was ready to attain another peak. A few fast and deep, passionate thrusts later, you came all over his cock in a mind numbing, toe curling orgasm, your thighs uncontrollably as your eyes rolled back into your skull. White hot pleasure ran through your veins, your mind a rush of endorphins.

Watching pure bliss roll on your face, feeling your pulsing walls clamp tight around his hard cock until your orgasm subsided, Curtis couldn't hold it in. He pulled out with a cry, growling your name as he came on your belly, shooting a generous load of his seed on your skin. 

You shifted to the side as he laid down beside you to give him some space. Both of you were blissed out, exhausted to your bones, chests heaving as you panted heavily. You laid there for a while, unmoving, relishing in the aftermath of all the feels coursing through you. 

Soon Curtis rolled on his side to look at you, "That was-"

"Amazing." You cut him off, your own body turning to face him. You smiled wide and bright like a kid on a Christmas morning, his expression mirroring yours. "You were wonderful." 

Pride swelled inside him, knowing he was the reason you looked so happy. "It was all you, Y/N." He said, searching for the rag and cleaning all the cum off your skin, paying special attention to be careful between your thighs. You hissed as the cloth grazed your sore parts, but Curtis placed soft kisses on your shoulder, hoping to distract you from the pain. 

Throwing away the rag, he traced the terrain of body with your fingertips, mapping every turn and contour of your body already etched into his brain with delicate touches. Everything had quieted down by then, only the your breaths breaking the silence. 

You hand settled on his broad chest, right above his heart. Something about feeling his heart beating calmly under your palm have you a sense of peace. It meant that he was there with you, by your side, alive. You let out a breath, thanking the god if there was any, for having Curtis by your side. 

You leaned into him, placing a short but sweet kiss onto his smiling lips. When you pulled back, he was looking at you with the same boyish charm of him. His light expression eased your heart, banishing any of your worries from souring the mood.

Curtis leaned forward to give a long, loving kiss to your forehead. He moved down, placing soft kisses on your on your eyelids one by one, taking his time to show his love, his affection, because it was you. And he had all the time in the world for his best girl. 

He moved onto the tip of your nose next, and then moving onto the rest of your face. He didn't have a plan thereafter, placing delicate kisses anywhere he could reach on your face, pouring all his adoration into his sweet kisses. He didn't need a plan to rain down his affection on you in some predecided order anyway. He could do it whenever he wanted, however he wanted. You giggled, loving how cute he was being right after ravishing your heat.

He finally reached your lips, giving you soft kisses with the tenderness you deserved and pulled back, only to lean back and give you some more. He could never get enough of you, your body or your lips.

His large, comforting hand cradled your face, his thumb tenderly brushing your cheek. His face took on a serious expression as he asked softly, "Are you okay, baby girl? Did I hurt you anywhere? I know I was rough tonight-"

"Not in anyway I didn't like," You cut him off, taking his hand in yours and kissing the inside of his palm sweetly, assuring him. "Curtis, thank you so much for this. I really needed it. I enjoyed it too, enjoyed it so much."

"You don't have to thank me for anything, baby." Curtis said, smiling and kissing your forehead again, because why not?

"What about you, Curtis? Are you okay?" You asked.

"I'm on top of the world, Y/N, all thanks to you and your moans ringing in my ears, you calling my name in that sweet sexy voice of yours." You blushed deeply, burying your face in his chest. You were unsure why you were dripping wet when words dirtier than these left his mouth earlier, but blushing furiously now.

Nevertheless, Curtis chuckled heartily, his chest vibrating against your cheeks. How could he ever get over how cute you looked when he made you blush? He brought an arm up to the back of your head and draped another over your waist, petting your hair and rubbing your back soothingly.

You sighed with content against him, sinking into his hold, your arms folded in between your bodies and your legs entangled amongst themselves. It didn't take long for exhaustion to take its toll on your aching body. Sleep was easy when it came, all parts of your shutting down into slumber mode bit by bit.

Curtis must have been feeling the same as you, because he pulled you closer to his warm body and thou he mumbled it lazily, he meant every word of it, "Sleep tight, baby, you're safe in my arms."

You kissed his chest from where you laid, curling an arm around his middle. "I know, honey, and you're safe in mine." You said, cuddling into his hold. Curtis smiled with his eyes closed, giving one last kiss on your head for the night and settling comfortably for sleep to come and finally end the day.

You were aware that even though you had ignored your worries, your pains for the day, you couldn't run from them forever. You were aware that you had to wake up the next day, face the world again, endure whatever it had to throw at you, fight another battle. And it was okay. 

Because you'd have your friend, your confidante, your lover by your side, helping you overcome all your hurdles, just as you'd help him. Because he had had you and you had had him even when the two of you had nothing. Because he will have you and you will have him even if the two of you have nothing. Because your presence, your assistance, your love would be enough to fulfil any crevices, any holes in each other's lives.

You'd fight all the battles and jump over all the hurdles when the time would come. But for now, you were in each other's arms, safe and warm and content. 

By each other's sides.

Together, forever.

~~~

Thanks you for reading!

Blog’s Main Masterlist

[cajunquandary]

A Beacon to Beasts

A Beacon to Beasts

AO3 Link (in the works, check back later)

Summary: While Dean is in Purgatory, he comes across some interesting monsters who help him through.

Created for @spndarkbingo​

Square Filled: Fornication

Rating: R (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Dean x Reader x Benny

Warnings: Dark Fic. Canon level violence, SMUT (p in v, biting, anal, oral, dp, unprotected sex *dont be silly wrap the willy,* all the smut, also I might be developing a praise!kink here??), angst, traumatic memories. If you squint: suicide, Destiel, Denny

Word Count: 7600

A/N: Originally published in early 2017, this is a total rewrite with the tremendous help of @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ and @wonder-cole​. You talented bitches. I love you.

Lightning spider-webbed across the sky, for a brief moment illuminating every shadow across Purgatory. The forest practically hissed in the unwelcome brightness as the trees whispered amongst themselves. A crack of thunder caused a quake larger than you’d felt in the god forsaken land ever before. It cracked the sound barrier, bent the hellscape reality at all of its slithering edges, and sent a shockwave so powerful it nearly tore apart every cell in your body. With an eerie silence, darkness fell again, and as your eyes adjusted, you could see that the beast attacking you was fleeing the other direction from whence it’d come—no, not fleeing. It was chasing the impact. 

Something pulled in your chest like a red-hot meat hook, something that sent sparks of electricity straight into your brain and signaling an overwhelming raw need. You were familiar with such will-crushing lust. Your fangs were proof. But this… this was stronger than anything you’d ever felt before. It nearly drove you mad. You could feel your mind slipping, until you took a step forward, then another, and another. The more you walked towards the source of the prior disturbance, the more sated you felt. The more whole. 

It took weeks of fighting others like you and endless backtracking to find the source—a vampire and another beast. It was a bit like a human, but no humans could be in Purgatory. Whatever it was, it was intoxicating. 

Your body shuddered at the proximity of the delicious flesh. The warmth. You were merely a moth, drawn to a flame of your own destruction. Your head swam and you reached towards the man, but another fang sped from the shadows opposite you first. This was just enough of a distraction to pull you back from the brink. 

You crouched behind a half-rotten tree, only one eye peeking from behind your cover. The human barely had time to react before the fiend had him forced into the well-trodden packed earth. His fall was hard. Your mouth watered as his pulse quickened and echoed through your soul. 

The vampire accompanying the human sent the attacker’s head flying so closely that spattered monster blood landed on your hand. The foul stench drove you deeper into the safety of the trunk. You didn’t want to be next. 

In this land, the best way to survive was to stay hidden, quiet, so you decided to follow them for the first few weeks, being careful to keep to the shadows. The thirst for the human ebbed and swelled unpredictably. At times, it was all you could do to resist the pulse exposed on his neck, especially when the man slept. 

For days you tried to figure out what the other one was, who he was, but damn, was he a monster magnet. You’d been in pretty thick shit before, but never like this. Your cover was nearly blown a few times a day, but you were thankful the two were too busy fighting their own to notice you.

“Damn, man. You’re humanity is gon get us kilt.” The vampire wiped the rancid blood from his blade on the latest dead monster’s shirt.

“Yeah well, as soon as we find Cas, we’re getting the hell out of hell.” A human in Purgatory? How? No wonder there had been such a disturbance. He must have been pulled here by a great force--one that very nearly ripped the entire existence apart. 

“Hey brother, I’m startin to think the angel don’t wanna be found. Dean, think about it. Every time we get close, he disappears again.”

“Benny—don’t.” The human stormed away from the vampire. What was going on? A human and an angel? Things must be getting really messy up top.

The vampire, Benny, turned suddenly in your direction, and you closed your eyes, hoping the thick layer of leaves and thorny bushes camouflaged you well enough. It must have, because he merely shrugged and walked after Dean.

This night was the quietest it had been since The Event. It had been hours since the last monster attack and you were almost as exhausted as they looked. It wasn’t long before the men settled down into the dust and a pile of dry brush and began to lightly snore. Usually one stood guard as the other slept, but on this occasion, both must have been too far gone to care. 

You crept slowly forward, focused completely on the human. He was so beautiful. The creases of his forehead were reduced to fine lines as he slumbered, slow, tender breath fluttering across weary-pale swollen lips, freckles and mud mixed on his cheeks, hair tousled and bloodied, yet still so soft and shiny. His lashes twitched as he dreamed. You were only a few feet away now, beginning to feel lost in the warmth radiating from him, drunk in the light from his soul.

A sharp pain through your side interrupted your trance and you collapsed into a prickly shrub. Between gulps of agony, you could just make out that you were pinned to the ground with a rough makeshift javelin, reminiscent of a butterfly pinned to a shadow box as you’d owned as a human. You screamed in pain, and if you weren’t already twice dead, you’d worry about losing too much blood.

A pair of boots came into your view. “I smelled you days ago. I know you’ve been followin’ us. Why haven’t you attacked? You workin for someone?”

You looked from under your brows, straining to see if Dean was still where he had been, but found nothing. All you could do was gasp shallowly against the burning splinters. It had been years since anyone had gotten the jump on you like this. The bit of human that was left within you prayed that this was a bad dream, that you would wake in a moment in the gently swaying safety of the treetops.

The javelin was ripped from your aching side, and you screamed again as your organs smacked back together in the loss of pressure. The vampire threw you against the nearest tree. Through the pain that overwhelmed your ability to flee, you watched in utter captivation as the human secured you with heavy, rusted chains.

The latter bent close to your face, piercing green eyes a stark contrast to the caked mud and blood spattered across pale cheeks. “Now look, you piece of shit. I’m gonna waste you like I’ve wasted every damn thing in this place. But first, you’re gonna tell me where the angel is, and why you’ve been following us. If I like your answer, I’ll make it quick. If not… well, I don’t normally like the answers.” He smirked, tilting his head just slightly as if he was considering just how he was going to end you. 

You gulped hard knowing the human meant business. You’d seen him firsthand, the violence, the rage. All this man left behind him were wide trails of blood.

You were shaking now, feverish and confused. When had your fangs come out? You retracted them in an attempt to look less intimidating and more cooperative. Between gritted teeth and a gradual tunneling of vision, you managed to respond. “I’ve been tracking you since you arrived. There was this storm, and I’ve felt a pull towards you the whole time. I-I don’t work for anyone, I swear.” His gnarly blade pressed into the soft flesh of your throat now and panic was rising  and threatening to close off your throat if the blade didn’t do it first. “I didn’t even know about the angel until earlier today when I overheard you.”

“Well. I don’t think I like your answer.” Dean sliced deeply into your arm, which produced a guttural scream from deep within your core. The blade itself didn’t hurt that bad, but whatever was on it sure did. Benny walked away, knowing what was coming. Benny was a monster—Dean was worse.

“P-please I don’t know, I just know the light—your soul is like a candle in this endless darkness. I’ve been here for so, so long and you feel like home, like safety. I crave your closeness and I don’t know the details of why, but I couldn’t hurt you.”

Benny looked over his shoulder as Dean paused. Something struck a chord. Benny walked back over and pulled Dean slightly off to the side, almost out of earshot.

“Brother, I think she’s tellin’ the truth. We should give this one a chance to talk.”

“Why? She doesn’t know anything about Cas. She’s just another monster in my way.”

“And so was I. We were both human once. Let’s hear her out. She hasn’t even fought back.”

The fatigue and injuries caught up with you. Focusing on the thick red-black ooze streaming from your wounds, sleep was finding you swiftly with your head falling forward, blood-soaked hair in your eyes and chest pulled tight against the restraints.

Dean lifted your chin with the end of his blade, remnants of your internals still glistening on the edge. Your eyes followed the length of his arm to his face where he held you in an unwavering gaze. Those eyes were greener than anything in this world—more than the trees you hid in, the brush around you, or the sparse grass beneath your feet. 

You seized your breath and relaxed your tense muscles. If this was finally what wiped you into oblivion, it would be okay, as long as you could stare into those eyes. After all, you were tired of fighting. Your mortal soul had been tired in life, grown wearier after you were turned, another century had passed before you’d been sent here after a hunter took you out. The memory flashed by: how you sat there on your knees, glad to be facing the barrel of the gun after so long that you didn’t even fight. Had you known you’d end up here, you may have fought more to stay topside. But now, you faced oblivion, or so you hoped. This would finally be the end of the suffering, the fighting.

Dean must have read the all-too-familiar look of defeat and acceptance in your face. He lowered the knife, letting your head fall forward again, and caught you in his arms as the chains broke and clattered to the dust.

He leaned you against the base of the tree. You weakly gazed upward through hooded eyes, wanting to see past the leaves to the empty sky, but couldn’t. It was all grisly branches for a hundred feet up.

“Why were you creeping up on me?” Dean pulled your attention back to them.

Battling the unconsciousness that nipped unwaveringly at the corners of your mind, you whispered, “The ache in my chest… the closer I get to you, the easier it is to handle. I wasn’t going to hurt you, I just needed to be... closer.”

“And is this better?” He motioned to the foot’s distance between you.

“Yeah,” You half-smiled through gritted teeth, the pain from your side still throbbing. It wouldn’t kill you. Nothing in Purgatory killed a monster except another monster—usually by beheading. It still hurt like a bitch, though, and left you exposed and vulnerable like a wounded animal.

He pursed his lips and shared a look with Benny, who shrugged. “I’ll stay up and watch, Dean. You get more rest before it starts again. And I’ll watch you, specifically.” The other vampire motioned at you, an intensity behind his blue eyes you could identify with. This human was meant to be protected, no matter the personal cost.

Dean was soon asleep again, his back turned to you.

The earth supporting your broken form was anything but forgiving. But still, you weren’t going to waste time whimpering to yourself now that you were a part of the misfit group. “Benny, where are you from? How long have you been here?” You wondered aloud.

He eyed you suspiciously, pausing before he answered. “I ran with a crew out of Louisiana, but we sailed all over the Americas. Been here a long time.”

You adjusted your position with a grunt. Benny’s hand was already on his weapon. “Calm down, sailor, just tryin to get comfortable... I’m from Shreveport. Been here a long time, too. Only did about two centuries up top, though.”

“Well, I’ve got a few on you then, sister. Shreveport was nice. Rolled through there a few times.” The vampire chuckled at the memory.

Even still, your body had different plans for the evening, and if anything else was said afterwards, you wouldn’t remember. Rest was in the cards that evening, even if your mind protested. Between stretches of sweet nothing, nightmarish memories flashed by in haphazard, non-chronological snippets. 

There you stood, on the bridge above deep, twisting waters. Though the wind whipped your hair wildly, you could feel nothing. Not since the day you were bit.

Then you were in the shed on your grandfather’s land, centuries before, when you were young but still so old. Had you ever had a chance? And there were fires and anthills, guns and chains. 

Before that one could go where you knew it would, you shot awake. Benny raised a concerned brow in your direction, but you couldn’t face him. Not after that. Within moments, sleep took you once again. 

The butterfly pinned in the box. Such a stark contrast was that orange and red and blue against the green felt and the glint of silver pins. You would chuckle at the sight if you could. Tiny fingers traced the outline of the glass. 

Then you were on your knees. You didn’t even fight. This? This was the day you died… the second time. By the hands of an inexperienced young hunter who was too focused on fighting with his dad to even notice you there. I mean, he practically tripped over you. The boy looked tall for his age, hazel eyes partially obscured by choppy bangs and mouth pressed into a thin line. He hesitated too long. You’d cocked your head to the side, wondering if he even had it in him to off you, and you almost felt sorry for the kid. Especially when his dad saw. The old black-haired ass berated him, belittled him. Compared him to his older brother. A disgrace, he’d said. Nothing like him, nothing like Mary. When the boy could look you in the eyes, you gave a slight nod as if to say, “It’s okay, I forgive you.” Those bright hazel eyes morphed into the moon cast over a monster wasteland. 

By morning’s light, you felt better, somewhat healed, but mostly sore. You and Benny spoke all the while, learned your ins and outs, and caught up on the situation with Dean, the toothy leviathans, the apocalypse (again), the dick angels, and everything else Dean had filled him in on weeks ago. If you weren’t in Purgatory yourself, you never would’ve believed all this. I mean, angels? C’mon. 

Sure enough, Benny was right. Beasts continued to attack in waves. There were a few close calls, and not one would speak of the whereabouts of the angel Castiel, though a few tried to save themselves by spouting lies. Dean would see right through them. It only ever took one question. “What color are the angel’s eyes?” A few had gotten lucky and guessed blue, but Dean didn’t even accept that answer. You asked once, what answer he was hoping for. He only shook his head in response. 

There were times, though, when he would describe Cas to you in the quiet of night, and it was like listening to a lost lover. Dean gave in after some months and described the angel’s eyes as full of grace, blue, but slightly glowing. And not just any blue, no. The bluest blue you could ever imagine. The purest blue. He spoke longingly about things they’d done, things he wanted to do, wanted to say. Needed to say. You would close your eyes and drift off to him mumbling stories of Cas, the fondness softening his voice.

It was dark again and the almost empty end of a particularly difficult day. You’d all sustained serious injuries from the violent fray that only seemed to become more dense as of late. You and Benny would heal quickly, but Dean wouldn’t… and you worried for him, lingering protectively close.

The weary hunter screamed in time with the monster as he thrust his knife through its eye, his voice echoing long after the lifeless body crumpled in front of him. In a rage, he threw his weapon down, stalking over to a nearby tree. He punched, kicked and threw himself against the bark until he was nearly bloodied beyond recognition. Benny could only look down, powerless to help his friend. Unable to watch any longer, you forced yourself between Dean and the tree. His eyes were closed until his bruised fists struck soft skin stretched over bone, the unexpected change in texture catching him off guard. You winced against it but grabbed his jacket in both hands, balling your own fists into it to hold him firmly in place. Jerking him forward until you were nose to nose, breath and blood mixing, you growled, “We will find him, Dean. But not if you kill yourself first.”

“Y-you sound like him,” His voice cracked and his head fell to your shoulder. You could feel his tears, hot on your frozen skin. This world was so cold and it never ceased to amaze you how he kept his warmth. You held him tightly, even as his knees buckled and swayed. By the state of those green eyes, you could see resignation and defeat creeping up on him. 

You shared a look with Benny, and he knew, too. “I’ll keep watch. You make him rest, cher.” You’d come to learn that Benny preferred to keep watch from all the years he’d had to watch his own backside here. You’d survived in hiding, while he’d made a name for himself—a killer, like Dean (not that either of them ever wanted to be.) You had to give it to him, though. After all, you’d tried to fight off everything in the beginning, but it was too tiring, like living was. So instead, you learned to thrive in shadows and whispers, moving like a ghost through whispers of the trees.

You were grateful for the moment alone with the warm beacon of a man, though. If the electricity across your skin anytime you touched the human indicated anything, it was a confirmation of your heart’s longing. You kept him pulled flush against your chest, his heartbeat so strong that it reverberated through your body. You focused on the feeling. How many centuries had it been since you felt your own beating? Dean’s was so strong it could surely support you both, you thought.

With a groan, Dean pulled the two of you down into a horizontal heap. You couldn’t make out the details of his face in the dark abyss of night, but his heart rate had shifted notably, along with his breathing. His anguish was palpable and you couldn’t help but to take some of it on as your own. He exuded it, it leaked from every pore. 

Supple lips brushed against yours, and you closed your eyes, slowly guiding one hand to his back above you and the other through his hair. It was as soft and silky as you’d hoped it was. You pulled just slightly, allowing your nails to gently spread and retract in circular motions. Dean clenched, the softest sounds carrying on the thick night air. Smiling at the reaction, you carded through the messy spikes and repeated the measure for several moments before Dean crashed into you, with his sudden need matching yours. Every kiss grew deeper, longer, and your tongues began to wrestle gently but urgently between locked lips. He grabbed at you hungrily with a certain ease, unable to hold back anymore, with palms stroking openly up and down your torso, until they slipped below your core.

You both pushed and pulled, wallowed and rolled, careful of injuries but powerless to pull away, fighting to get closer. You helped him slip from his leather jacket, and he groaned into your mouth with a tantalising mixture of pain and pleasure. The sound made you shiver, and you hastily removed yourselves from worn and tattered pants, breaking only for a moment. 

“Shh, Dean,” you whispered next to his ear. He nodded, understanding that even in this embrace, you were exposed and hunted. But with skin on skin, it was difficult to keep logic and sanity at the forefront of your mind. 

Dean slowed his pace and shifted until you were straddling him. With a touch so light it tickled, he let his hands trace every angle of your body, until he felt the latest wound and drew back suddenly. 

“It’s okay,”  you breathed into his gaping mouth. 

“No, I-- I’m sorry.” His voice was feeble, desperate. 

Taking his hand in yours, you placed it back where it’d been. It was a small gesture, but the effect it had on Dean was profound. With both hands now, he clutched your sides so tightly, it sent swells of something delicious straight to your center, before rippling out to every nerve ending exposed to the cool air, and then some. 

Just as you began to give in, a rustle from only several feet away snapped you back to reality. You shot up upon bare feet, weapon already in your hand as you scanned the malevolent shadows for the source, listening and feeling for any shift in the air. Dean lay frozen by your feet, head still spinning in weakness and lust.

In a swift turn on the balls of your feet, you faced the intruder, ready for war. 

“It’s just me, cher. I heard something and wanted to make sure you two were okay.” As Benny took in the situation, he laughed softly. “Sorry to interrupt. I’ll be over there…”

With an annoyed frown, you allowed your stance to go slack. “Thanks.”

Dean touched your leg, leaning in to kiss it lightly before planting a little nibble at your ankle. You slipped back down next to him, gasping when he quickly found your neck and nipped along your clavicle to the sweet spot in the hollow of your neck.

He was shaking slightly under the strain, but lifted himself atop you. To help keep him steady, you placed your hands on his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his torso. With a grateful kiss, he traced his tongue across your bottom lips as he lined himself at your entrance. 

His tip sank into your soaked folds and his resulting keen made you tremble beneath him, itching for more. “Dean, p-please…”

“What do you want?”

You rotated your hips against his, fighting to make him move. “Please, fuck… Dean I need you. Need more.”

Your begging tore his resolve to shreds and he sunk into you, stretching and filling you like nothing ever before. Your back arched at the sensations as they nearly overwhelmed you, drowning out the hell around you and leaving only Dean. Your heavy breathing barely registered as you whined his name. A shallow shriek betrayed you. Dean placed a calloused hand over your mouth, and it only drove you more mad. 

As he bottomed out and began short but powerful thrusts, tears gathered at the edges of your eyes. Everytime, he hit that sweet spot. Everytime, you whimpered into his hand and dug your fingers into his flesh tighter. Everytime, he moaned in response. 

It wasn’t long before those slow, drawn out jolts coiled you so tight you could barely contain yourself. Dean could sense the change as you began to rub against him, allowing the friction to take you over the edge. Right as you fell off into a fierce and roiling sea of ecstasy, Dean replaced his hand over your mouth with his own, swallowing your choppy breaths as you twitched and spasmed beneath him. 

Still lost in the swell, you felt the hunter release and fall, spent, onto your chest. You managed to wrap your arms around him and held him steadfastly, not ready to let go. It was incredible to watch Dean unravel and relax for the first time. In fact, it’d just become your favorite drug. 

Unknown to the broken lovers, a pair of “gorilla-wolves” attempted to interrupt throughout the steamy romp in the leaves, but Benny quickly took care of them. The nasty things wouldn’t have gotten as close as they had, but the vampire had been distracted by the sinfully delicious sounds coming from the far side of the tree. He’d tried to ignore it at first but found his mind wandering. It’d been ages since he’d felt the touch of another being, and the want rose up in him, a fire in his stomach.

You panted next to Dean when he rolled to the side, your injuries far from mind in the lasting rapture from being one with the human. His breathing was still ragged, but slowing. The wound on the back of his shoulder had reopened. Begrudgingly , he let you patch it again. Once dressed, you fell back to the sorry bed of leaves. Dean nuzzled into your side and let out a pained sigh as sleep found him. You could’ve sworn you heard the faintest “Don’t let me die here…” fall from his lips. Your grip on him tightened. You’d get him out if it killed you. But first, you had to find that elusive angel.

It was another month of the same routine. Days and nights ran together. The closer you got to the angel, the denser the swarm of monsters was. Even Benny seemed to be on his last leg. You offered to keep watch this time. At first Benny protested, but you shut him down.

“It’s broad daylight out here. I can see them coming from far enough off, I can give you plenty of time to wake up and fight if I can’t handle it. Don’t worry.”

He didn’t feel like protesting too much, and finally nodded, sad blue eyes locking on yours in a silent promise of trust in comradery.

A few hours passed, and you stood to stretch. A twig snapped behind you, and you twirled quickly, your knife to Benny’s throat. His hands raised. “Sorry cher, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Nearly lost your fool head. Why aren’t you resting?” You dropped your arms and stood next to the vampire, staring out through the forest again, scanning. Listening.

“I rested enough.”

“Right, that’s why you have to use that tree to support yourself.” His lips pressed into a hard smile, electric eyes dropping to the ground. When he looked back up, something in them had changed. He reached towards you, hesitant, and brushed the wavy mess of hair from your face behind your ear, hand gently gliding across your jaw until his thumb rested on your lip.

You closed your eyes and shuddered under the vampire’s touch. It was more familiar than Dean’s. You leaned into it, following as it guided you into his embrace. He was larger than Dean and still smelled of the swamp and sea. The scent was intoxicating, dragging all of your attention to Benny. 

He pulled back for a moment and cradled your face in the large, thick hands of a sailor. “You okay with this? Don’t want you to feel pressured, darlin’.”

“Mm not pressured,” you smiled up into those spirited sharp blue eyes. You lost yourself in them, completely ensnared. You could see past them, to cerulean glittering waters, could feel the lapping of them against your old boat, hear the seagulls and crows chattering as they glided on heatwaves, taste the salt on your tongue. 

You stretched up on your tiptoes, craning to taste the salt on his lips, feel the waves in the way his tongue twists. Benny must have felt the same, as he met your parted lips in a feverish kiss, maneuvering you effortlessly between himself and the tree for support until he was rutting into you.

The touch was bittersweet and starved, driving both of you as you stripped away layers. Benny pressed into you until the bark bit into your back and arms. You knocked the hat from atop his head to get closer, to guide him in, and he responded by taking the thin flesh of your neck into his mouth. Fangs drug thin scratch lines over your chest and shoulders, followed by sucking kisses. Benny grunted as he settled next to your ear, the growing bulge in his remaining trousers becoming almost painful in the restriction. 

Sensing this, you moved to loosen the last piece of his clothing until it slumped to his ankles, all the while raw, needy noises spilled from your mouth. If only you’d found each other topside, things would have been better. You wouldn’t have let that young, long-haired hunter boy and his grumpy father kill you.

In one smooth move, Benny hooked his fingers into your jeans and slid them off, until you were completely free of them. With lust in your eyes, you found his full lips once more. You bit and sucked at his bottom lip until he was throbbing against you and whispering your name in short breaths in desperation. 

With a slight adjustment in position, he grabbed your ribcage and lifted you just enough to line himself at your entrance. Hungrily, you raised your knees and rested them on his sides. You dug your nails into his shoulders in anticipation, but he didn’t keep you waiting long. With a final shift of his angle, Benny slid into you unrestrained.

His pace was unforgiving. He was rougher, more desperate, yet somehow more controlled than Dean. Pain was something you both knew too well, and found pleasure in at this moment. Neither of you had to hold back in fear of hurting the other. 

Benny muttered a long string of praises as he placed his cheek on yours and relished in the fragmented breaths and mewls leaking from your gaping mouth.

Between the friction to your front and the sharp ache in your back, the intense set of his pace brought unwanted tears to the corners of your eyes. Before you knew it, he had you biting back a scream as you came in his arms, your back digging into the tree as he held you through it. You sank your teeth into his neck, drawing blood and pushing back the sharper set as they threatened to emerge. He snarled into your ear and released, standing for a moment, relishing in your closeness.

For a time, you just remained in that position as he softened inside you, foreheads resting fondly on each other.

Dean stirred, grumbling as he woke. With a silently shared promise to continue the embrace another day, the two of you straightened yourselves back out and rounded the tree to greet the sleep-starved human.

Over the next two weeks, the three of you grew much closer. Sometimes in between attacks, you took solace in each other. Most times it was talk, but when words were too difficult and your bodies needed to feel something… else, something primal and good and pure, they would pass you between them, never straying too far.

Benny's eyes would always drift and land upon Deans. It intoxicated him, pulled at his heart in ways that tore him apart. Deep green eyes, full of hope and goodness and humanity… something fragile yet unbreakable, much like what he once saw in Andrea’s. Just like Andrea’s. As much as he tried to put her memory to rest, Dean’s gaze would always take his breath, whether they were fighting or fucking, and the feelings that washed over Benny were wild and raw.

You ventured off to scout ahead one day, leaving Benny to help Dean walk after a surprise run in with a gorilla wolf didn’t fare so well. Those things sure liked Dean. Could you blame them? As you cleared the spaces ahead, you reminisced on the first time it happened. 

It’d started innocently enough, some kissing and tender touches traded between you and Dean. You craved comfort, and his touch never disappointed. The fading daylight illuminated something… different, something new in his eyes. There was a spark of acceptance? Resignation? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but for some reason the usually tightly wound hunter was relaxed. His movements were delicate and slow, a stark contrast to the usual quickie on the run. 

You nearly lost your balance when he stripped your pants away and traced deliberate sucking kisses down to your sweet spot. You’d had to catch yourself from falling over at the heady sensations, threading your hands into his hair and holding on for dear life (or death.) Within moments, Benny swooped in to support you from behind, snaking a strong arm around your stomach as Dean began to lick and hum and stroke you in ways you’d never felt. Your blood burned like fire, causing every inch of your skin to become more sensitive. 

Benny brushed the hair from your shoulder with his free hand, then took a fistful of it and guided your head back. With a contented sigh, he took your exposed neck into his mouth and you twitched violently between the shivers running down and the heat rising up. The contrast of Dean’s soft lips to the burn of his stubble mirrored that of the rough, blood soaked fabric of Benny’s jacket against the smooth of your skin… and it drove you mad. Your vision swelled with every wave and the sounds of the cursed world around you faded as if cotton had been shoved in your ears. 

Your legs gave way and you fell into Dean’s lap as he chuckled, watching you come undone. The orgasm hit you somewhere along the way down, untouched but wound so tightly that you couldn’t hold out another moment.

While you writhed against him, Dean held you securely to his chest with arms that crushed into your ribs and pinned your arms to your sides. Your head finally came to rest upon his shoulder, and as your senses eased back into focus, you realized that you were completely laid down upon his bare chest. Still buzzing from the high, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck and laid a small peck. Dean’s resulting smile stretched wide, and you could feel it there without even needing to see it. 

“You okay, baby?” Dean gently stroked your back up and down with one hand, and moved to tangle strong fingers in your hair to hold the base of your head tenderly with the other. 

When you found your voice, you muttered a small, “yeah, thank you.”

Benny kneeled beside you and lowered his face until your foreheads met, the three of you so impossibly close. “You up for some more, sugar?”

You smiled wryly and closed your eyes. “Yeah, I’m all yours.”

Though your limbs were but heavy gelatin, you managed to lift out of your shirt as the men undressed. Pulling Dean’s discarded coat over you like a blanket, you rested against a fallen tree and admired them. Dean was more slender, but faster and stronger. The way his muscles rippled and creased beneath pale, freckled skin reminded you of a swimmer--all lean and mean. He was graceful in every movement, like a dancer. Benny was a little more solid, built like a tank. Maybe he wasn’t as fast, but there was no going through him. You’d seen beasts hit him straight on with full power, and the vampire had barely flinched. Those fists could break anything, but his face was always… soft. Kind. Dean’s was hardened, but you couldn’t blame him. And yes, there were moments, like this, where the lines of his face smoothed, and some color returned to his cheeks. 

How you’d ever found Heaven in this Hell, you’d never come to understand. But you were ever grateful. Hopeful for a future with them topside, however it may go. 

Dean’s outstretched hand pulled you from your daydream. You took it, letting the jacket go as he helped you stand. As you stood, he continued to pull you forward until you were flush with him. He pressed a firm kiss to your scalp and rubbed his palms up and down your body. His cock twitched against your belly, and you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing just a little tighter at the new flood of arousal. 

Benny snaked his arms around you from behind, until his hands rested on your neck, not gripping, but just *there.* The weight of them naturally guided your head to fall back against his chest. He growled into your ear, “You’re so fucking beautiful. So good for us, cher.”

Your mouth fell agape and released a strangled moan as Dean kissed along your exposed neck and mumbled a steady stream of “You’re such a good girl for us, such a good fighter, a great companion.” 

With every word, a new fire raged through your veins. Your face burned hot. Dean’s hands wandered south, caressing every inch passionately. One hand found its home grasping your thigh right under your ass, and the other came to rest in your dripping folds. You bucked against the touch and right into Benny’s length resting between your cheeks. 

You whimpered, needing more, needing release. “D-Dean please, fuck. I need you. I want you inside me, please--unnghh.”

Dean teased your entrance for a moment more before the wrecked look on your face and the subtle, high pitched sounds spilling from you completely enraptured him. Benny nodded, moving his hands to steady your sides as you squirmed uncontrollably. With a swift movement, you were raised up with both of Dean’s hands cupping and spreading your ass until he lined up at your folds and let you sink down much too slowly. 

Pathetic cries filled the air as you struggled to maintain control, the stretch of him almost too much to handle and not nearly enough all at once. You shook and grabbed at anything you could hold with a flutter in your chest that threatened to make you implode. And yet, the intense feelings only grew. Benny planted himself and anchored with a strong arm outstretched and clutching to Dean’s shoulder. 

Dean bit his lip fiercely and let out a pained groan at the other man’s unyielding hold on him. His cock twitched again as he bottomed out deep inside you. The depth burned and ached, and with it your eyes came to focus on Dean’s. 

The emerald green was more prominent now, outlined by the hot blush beneath a spray of freckles. His brows were drawn tightly and jaw slack, full, pink lips parted in bliss. His breathing was erratic, and with every intake of cool evening air, Dean trembled. 

You mewled and whined, shifted against them, desperate for friction. The slightest broken smile graced the hunter’s face and he nodded, knowing but not yet ready. 

Tears already began to gather as you fought the urge to physically fight the men into submission, to finally scratch that itch. Benny didn’t leave you waiting much longer though, before he was slipping and pushing into place in your ass. The deliberate burn of him spreading you open opposite Dean left you thrashing between them. 

Dean took a deep breath in as a reminder for you to do the same. If it weren’t for him grounding you and helping you through, the black void would’ve already sucked you in as another victim. You did your best to relax and bore down, allowing Benny to fill your other hole completely to his base. 

The vampire grimaced through his own keening, the tightness of you nearly sending him over the edge right there and then. You stilled between them, already on the verge of destruction as the three of you adjusted to the new feelings washing over you in waves. 

Dean’s lips found yours, open and wanting. Taking his tongue hungrily into your mouth, you sucked and fell absolutely limp as he sucked your lower lip between his. The scent of him was utterly intoxicating, and you were ready once more. 

Benny began to move in tandem with Dean. With every movement of the both of them against your thin membrane, a wailing cry seeped between your clenched teeth. Benny was now clutching both of Dean’s shoulders so tightly that were white bloodless patches beneath each of his fingertips. This made Dean buck harder until the hunter’s eyes shut tightly and left his head bobbing backwards in lust. 

The symphony of your cries was lost beneath those of the two men, who shuddered and swayed. The sweet, sinful music flooded your mind and sent you reeling over the edge once more, clenching and swearing and falling against Benny’s outstretched arm. 

Dean’s thrusts faltered as his stuttered, “I’m.. I’m about to--”

“Just let go, brother,” Benny encouraged. 

It was the only confirmation Dean needed before his load spilled into you, sending renewed longing to your stomach as he pulsed inside you. “Fuck Dean,.. You feel so good,” you managed.

Benny came seconds later, and you relished in the full warmth of them. 

You smiled to yourself as the familiar electricity flooded your veins and leaked to your core. It may have been the first time, but every time since had only been… better. Impossibly, incredibly better. 

Upon your return, you noticed that Dean had found new strength.

“We’re closer than ever to Cas, he’s three days away by the river. We’re almost done! We can go home!” Dean was grinning widely, a spark finally back in his tired eyes.

You smiled, scooping him into a rough embrace. If Dean was happy, you were happy. Benny joined you in the bear hug. You were so ready to be topside again, and now, it was so close you could just taste it.

Your second chance.

With a start, Benny hollered and let go, leaving Dean tense and alert in your arms. Then, he threw you to the side as a beast attacked. Its whole face morphed into a shark-tooth ringed mouth, and you grimaced.

Leviathan. You must’ve been really close to that angel.

You drew your weapon as one engaged you, swung and lopped its head off easily after years of practice, until something glinting and sharp emerged where it should not have been.

You looked down, the blade bloodied and protruding through your chest, through your lungs. Unable to draw a breath, you fell to your knees.

“No!” Both Benny and Dean were yelling, voices echoing through the hostile forest. Black ooze covered them from the slain monsters. You looked up as your assailant withdrew the sizable knife from your back and placed it against your neck. It was another vampire. You looked back to the boys.

“You killed our sister, so now we’re gonna kill yours,” the voice behind you teased in a sing-songy tone. More boots shuffled into your line of view.

Benny looked absolutely broken as he charged, extra teeth bared sharply in defiance. Dean bounded to you, holding your gaze with those emerald green eyes as he expertly dodged the advances of his adversaries.

Once again, your breath was seized and you relaxed your tense muscles. If this was finally what wiped you into oblivion, it would be okay, as long as you could stare into the comforting depths of that hunter’s eyes. After all, you were tired of fighting…This would finally be the end of the suffering. To oblivion. The warmth from Dean’s soul flooded over you as he got closer, but it was too late.

Your head rolled from your body. 

Dean decimated the group of vampires in record time, the rage fully restored and urging his body forward against all odds. Once again, the hunter had become more vicious than any monster in the land. In two days, he would limp to the river and find his angel.

You, however, woke on the other side of Purgatory. Oblivion was not something that would ever come for you. There would never be a release. Despair, overcoming any hope you ever had, creeped its dark tendrils through your entire being and swiped your feet from underneath you. So that’s what happens to monsters who die in monster heaven… they get respawned and zapped to another part. Great. You were stuck in hell, too far away now to reach them in time. One day you would find a way out. You had to. But first, you would have to find the strength. Strength you may never have again. You curled into a ball, mind silent as you gave into the feeling, a single, small tear streaking a thin line from your eye into the dust. 

You were alone. Again. 

Your second chance gone along with the human and his friends.

 This was my second attempt at writing smut and maybe I got carried away??

WAYWARD PEEPS:

@carryonmywaywardcaptain​ @manawhaat @supernatural-jackles​ @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch​ @bummblebeeblue @nothin-after-79-blog​ @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @inmysparetime0​ @impala-dreamer​ @arryn-nyxx​ @idk-life01 @attorneyl​ @deathtonormalcy56​ @xwing-baby​ @wonder-cole​ @itsangelpie-supports​ @thinkinghardhardlythinkingogblog​@icecream-and-gadreel

ANGST BABES:

@trexrambling​ @abbessolute @emptywithout​

ALL ABOUT THAT DEAN:

@akshi8278​ @will-winchester

[safarigirlsp]

So excited to see you open requests! Your Flip and Charlie writings were 😍 (also moodboards for both stories are gorgeous!) I totally thought you’ve been writing for awhile (I’m new so still getting caught up around here)! Can I request a fic where Reader has to convince her man why Halloween is the best holiday? This may have been inspired by that AD clip 😏 I feel like the prompt can go fluffy or smutty and work with a few of the boys so author’s choice to pick!

+

Going to a Halloween party with Charlie, please???

Thank you for your requests! I really had a fun time with this one. I did this for Charlie, but if you want to read about Flip being a grumpy ass during Halloween too, I did something with that in Here Kitty, Kitty. I hope you enjoy!

Savor Each Sensation

Charlie Barber x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: NSFW. Language. Lots of Smut and Fluff

Charlie Barber never used to hate Halloween. He used to look forward to it. He used to look forward to taking Henry trick or treating, to matching costumes with him. That was before Henry was taken to Los Angeles by his rancid ex-wife.

Now, Charlie didn’t get to spend Halloween with Henry very often, and when he did it was in the muggy L.A. weather amidst the garish palm trees decorated with orange lights and the out of place jack o’lanterns, left to wilt into premature humiliation in the California heat.

Worse yet, Halloweens in L.A. were also spent being conscripted into going out trick or treating with a group. A group that consisted of his ex, her family, and her newest dithering simp of a boyfriend. All of them an omnipresent white noise corroding his time with his son. Even Henry was an unwitting source of disappointment, being so consumed with everything going on with Halloween and his friends, Charlie was little more than an afterthought anymore.

Charlie had grown bitter about the holiday, to say the least.

Unfortunately for Charlie, it was your favorite holiday, and you were his new fiancée. You loved everything about the season. Autumn was the most colorful, vibrant time of year, with just the perfect crisp lingering in the air. You even wanted an October wedding, a desire you had yet to spring on Charlie.

The culmination of your favorite season was your favorite holiday, Halloween. You loved the parties, the excuse to dress up and forget your responsibilities for an evening, the scary movies, haunted houses, and all the spooky chills and jump scares you could get.

This year, Charlie had elected to stay in New York to oversee some last-minute rehearsals of his play opening the first week of November. What a perfect opportunity to show him how, with you at least, Halloween was indeed the best holiday.

Charlie’s theatre company threw a Halloween party annually at the theatre. Of course, the acting troupe enjoyed any opportunity to dress up and be more flamboyant than usual. Charlie rarely attended himself, usually due to his trips to L.A. This year you insisted that he take you. An opportunity to show you off, which you both enjoyed, if nothing else.

Even Charlie couldn’t help but grin at the costumes you had chosen for you both. A draped dress in scarlet silk for you and a solid black suit for him, complete with an ivory half mask. A chic, modern Christine and Phantom of the Opera.

Every eye in the theatre turned to you both when you made your entrance, and few had left either of you since. Charlie, too, couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He couldn’t go more than a few moments without raking you with his gaze and giving you a smile or a kiss, his hand never leaving your back, neck, or your own hand, your fingers laced together. He looked particularly debonair with his tailored black suit accentuating his huge frame and his thick dark hair swept back in tousled waves. You smirked up at him when you saw the longing jealous eyes of some of the newer actresses latch onto you both, earning a wink down at you from Charlie as his hold on you tightened.

Conversation filled the theatre, the acoustics allowing you to hear dialogue easily from across the room. While Charlie was immersed in the necessary pleasantries of greeting the people in his company, you listened to some of the ancillary conversations. Several different discussions surrounded the alleged ghosts of the theatre. Especially on Halloween, it seemed, the spirits could be heard moaning throughout the lonely theatre. A few people attested to even having witnessed a diaphanous specter themselves. Many had heard the lingering moans and wails.

The party was already in full swing. Halloween themed music resounded throughout the theatre while people drank and danced on the stage. The theatre itself was decorated beautifully, lit only by endless strings of fairy lights, and flickering LED torches and lanterns. The makeshift bar was generously stocked and resplendent with skulls and cobwebs. A long table sat along the side of the stage, heavy with delicacies. What caught your eye was the stack of gourmet candy apples.

Charlie followed your gaze and was quick to grab you each one of the luscious candy apples. Always the gentleman, he found a knife and cut your apple for you, preserving your carefully applied lipstick. He held a slice to your lips, tracing the fruit along your lower lip before allowing you to close your lips around it. You sucked the tip of his finger into your mouth as you did, flicking it with your tongue before releasing it. Charlie’s eyes upon you darkened, gleaming with lust in the dimness of the stage.

When you both finished your apples he pulled you into the middle of the stage, holding you close against him, as he swayed to the music with you.

Charlie was a great dancer and a strong lead, effortlessly moving you across the stage as he danced with you. He loved the theatrics of twirling you and, of course, dipping you impossibly low for a passionate kiss.

He danced with you in his warm embrace long into the evening, pausing only when you each felt the need for a glass of wine as an interlude.

You shifted your weight side to side as you sipped your wine, alternating between your feet that had begun to ache in your too ambitiously tall heels. Charlie noticed. He took a seat in one of the chairs set around the stage and pulled you into his lap. You could feel he was half hard already when you fell into place on top of his thick thighs. Turning your head to kiss his cheek sweetly, you leaned your back against his proud chest as you purposefully ground your ass against his cock decidedly unsweetly.

“Don’t think I’m above fucking you right here, sweetheart,” Charlie whispered into your ear before biting it teasingly.

“I’m sorry, is that supposed to be a deterrent?” You rubbed your ass harder against his hardening cock.

Charlie growled as he pulled your hips down against his cock that was now straining beneath his suit pants.

“If you want my cock that badly, I won’t keep you waiting,” his statement was punctuated with a bite to your neck.

His large hands lifted your hips, steadying you as he rose, trailing off of you in a slow lingering caress as he moved toward the stage exit.

You said your goodbyes and made your way out of the theatre, Charlie leading you out with his large hand at your back. Luckily, the theatre was dim enough that no one noticed Charlie’s erection throbbing inside his fitted black trousers.

When you reached the exit, Charlie steered you away down a hallway, leaning down to growl in your ear, “I’m not waiting through taxis and traffic to get you home and fuck you when I can have you screaming my name in the next ten minutes right here.”

You smiled wickedly up at him, “Surely, you’re not actually having a good time, Charlie? On Halloween, no less?” You reached a hand to pinch his ass playfully, earning a teasing glare and a lopsided grin from him.

“Where are we going?” You asked as Charlie led you down a dark unfamiliar hallway and down a flight of stairs.

“It’s a surprise,” he teased you.

“I thought you might enjoy fucking me in your office,” you replied sultrily.

“Did you really think the Phantom would fuck you in an office, darling?” His eyes gleamed devilishly as he grinned back at you.

You hadn’t realized that you had circled back toward the center of the theatre until the music began to grow louder as you walked.

Finally, you arrived at an old wooden door that Charlie opened and held for you. You found yourself in the large underbelly of the stage itself. It was dim, lit only by the faint light that trickled down through the floorboards of the stage overhead. The music adopted an eerie quality once filtered through the wooden floor and mixed with the conversations from above you. The space itself was crowded with props, mannequins, costumes, and all the accoutrements of the theatre. Centered in the room was a large work table, littered with fabric and smaller props.

Charlie approached you from behind, wrapping his powerful arms around your waist and pulling your back against his meaty chest. His lips were hot and wet on your neck as he dragged his teeth along your sensitive skin before laving you with open mouthed kisses.

You reached a hand to twist into his thick hair as his lips raised a rash of goosebumps across your shoulders and neck, moaning his name at the pleasure he could give you with only his lips.

Charlie’s hands moved to unzip your dress, pushing the material off your shoulders, letting it fall around your feet in a cascade of crimson silk.

You turned to face him, running your palms over his broad chest. Lust glittered in Charlie’s honeyed eyes as he admired your lingerie with an indulgent smile. You had purchased a new set just for him, for tonight. His hands immediately found your breasts, squeezing them and running his thumbs over your nipples through the thin black eyelash lace of your long-line balconet bra. His eyes caressed your curves down to your matching lace garter belt and thong. You rubbed your nylon encircled thighs together, teasing yourself with the feel of the slick slide of the fabric.

“Am I lifting your spirits yet, Charlie,” you asked with a smirk.

He grinned down at you, “That’s not the only thing you’re lifting.” He lowered his head to kiss you deeply, pulling you against him and digging his cock into your stomach.

Charlie’s warm lands travelled down your sides, skimming your curves, as he kissed you slowly. His jaw worked hungrily as his plush lips and hot tongue pulled sighs from your throat. His mouth trailed from your lips along your jaw as his hands slid down to grip your ass, before dropping his lips to the side of your neck, where his kisses turned to wet mouthed bites.

A large hand traced the lace of your thong from the top of your ass around your hip, teasing a finger underneath the lace, until he reached the front of your pussy, rubbing you through the thin fabric.

Before he could go further, you pushed yourself back from him, keeping him at arms length by your hands on his chest. Charlie’s lips lingered on your neck, bending forward to follow you with his mouth until you pulled too far back.

You cocked an eyebrow as you wagged a finger at him, warning him to stay put. You sauntered coquettishly over to the work table, splaying your hands on the wood and spreading your legs as you bent over. You arched your back and pushed your ass out for him, made easier by the height of your stilettos. You intentionally wiggled your ass as you settled into your position, ensuring he had a full view of your glistening pussy, perfectly framed by your crotchless panties.

You heard Charlie’s sharp intake of breath behind you. “Oh, fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned as he approached you.

“Do you like your treat?” You teased, looking back over your shoulder.

“Let me show you much I fucking like it,” Charlie was behind you now, cock pressing against your ass through his suit pants. His hands smoothed up your thighs to grip your hips. He leaned down over your back, chest pressing against you to kiss behind your ear as he whispered low into it, “I’d like to eat my treat now.”

Charlie knelt behind you, using his grip on your hips to pull your ass further out, and without preamble, shoved his face into your pussy. His large nose prodded at your entrance as his lips and tongue kissed and sucked hungrily at your pussy.

Every muscle in your body shuddered with pleasure, pulling your head back in a lewd moan that echoed throughout the room.

“You taste better than fucking candy,” he growled into your pussy, the low rumbling tone of his voice vibrating into you.

Charlie was superbly talented with his mouth, only taking him a few minutes of working your pussy with his lips, tongue, and even his nose, until your hips were pushing back into him and bucking involuntarily.

“Fuck me now, handsome,” you moaned as your thighs started to shake. You wanted this to be about him, to make this Halloween with you his favorite holiday.

Charlie’s hands on your hips gripped you tighter, holding you in place as he moved lower to suck your clit into his mouth. “Trust me,” Charlie’s deep voice rumbled against your pussy. “Savor each sensation.”

“Oh, fuck, Charlie,” you giggled. “Are you actually quoting The Phantom of the Opera while you have your tongue in my pussy?”

You felt him grin against your folds as he groaned in affirmation, “You’ve always told me that I have such a talented tongue, kitten.”

“Yes, you sure fucking do,” you whimpered, feeling your pussy tightening around nothing. “But, I don’t want to cum on your tongue tonight. I want to cum on that giant cock of yours.”

Charlie slowed enough to kiss your pussy languidly for a few delicious seconds, sending shudders through your entire body.

Upon straightening behind you, he paused only long enough to undo his belt and shove his pants down his thighs to free his eager dripping cock.

Your jaw fell slack, a sob of ecstasy escaping your throat, when Charlie pushed his massive cock into you fully with one smooth thrust. A few slow drags of his cock in and out of you allowed you to adjust to his substantial size before he angled his hips as he picked up his pace, angled just right to hit your favorite spots. He had fucked you enough to know your pussy better than any of his scripts, each of his thrusts rubbing you perfectly.

You had been so close to cumming from Charlie’s mouth, that you felt the weighted heat of pleasure pooling in your core after only a few short minutes of his cock driving into you.

Your thighs were shaking and your pussy tightening with every thrust of Charlie’s cock and every slam of his hips against you. Charlie felt it and knew what you needed. He gripped your hips more tightly and pulled your ass back to him with every thrust, meeting him roughly as he pounded you harder, as he pounded your pussy into clenching around his cock as you came in quivering waves.

Charlie groaned loudly as your pussy fluttered around his cock. He stroked one large hand along your back soothingly as he ground his still hard cock into you, fucking you through your aftershocks.

He had yet to cum when he pulled out of you, rubbing the thick head of his cock along the outside of your pussy and your ass.

“Turn around,” his voice was deep, thick with lust. “I want to see your gorgeous face when I fill you up with my cum.”

Once you turned to face him, Charlie hooked his hands under your ass, lifting you up onto the table. The wood was cool on your back when you stretched out beneath Charlie, ensuring he had a beautiful view of your lacy tits. He pulled both of your legs up, placing your ankles on his shoulders and turned his head to kiss your ankle as he slid his hands down along your silky nylon clad thighs.

One hand remained stroking your thigh while his other aligned his cock with your wanting pussy.

It was Charlie’s turn to let a low primal groan rumble through his thick chest as he sank his cock into you again, the sound reverberating off the walls of the echoing chamber.

“Fuck, I love your little pussy,” he growled as he settled his cock inside you. “Always so wet for me. And so fucking tight. Always the perfect fit for my cock.”

Charlie set a fast pace, slamming his cock into you roughly. You reached your arms out above your head, arching your back and letting your tits bounce for him as he pounded into you. You sighed and whined with every thrust, your pussy eager to cum again around his massive cock.

You felt Charlie’s cock begin to throb inside you as his rhythm faltered and his brow furrowed. He brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing it almost too aggressively as he fucked into you, pushing you into another orgasm.

“Oh, fuck, yes, Charlie!” You moaned loudly as you came again.

Charlie growled above you as your pussy seized around his cock. He came with a huffed shout, his cock pulsing with each burst of cum he pumped into you.

Your legs dropped from his shoulders to wrap around his waist and you sighed in ecstasy as he panted above you, both breathless. You reached to his shaggy hair, running your fingers through it and pulling him down to kiss you deeply.

He purred against your lips, his hands running the length of your stockinged legs that were now hooked around his waist.

“What do you think of Halloween now?” You whispered against his lips.

Charlie’s mouth turned up in a smile as he kissed you, “I think I just showed you, sweetheart.”

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The Halloween party that year was the talk of the entire theatre company, and had even become gossip among the Broadway community. The very ghosts of the theatre themselves had come out that night. Many of the actors swore that they heard the spirits moaning, faintly but distinctly, reverberating all around the theatre. From the rafters, the darkened corners, even from the very floorboards of the stage itself, eldritch moans and growls could be heard echoing eerily throughout the theatre that night.

Neither of you would ever spoil those rumors. You and Charlie were both flattered that your lovemaking was now quite literally the stuff of legend. It was certainly the best and most memorable Halloween that either of you ever had.

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© safarigirlsp 2020

Tagging some Charlie lovers. As always, feel free to ignore my bs.

@direnightshade @mariesackler @sydneyssmut @candycanes19 @emeraldsiren19 @finn-ray-nal-beads @historyandfandoms50 @sacklerscumrag @cowboy-kylo @thegreenmatt @clumsycopy @contesa-lui-alucard @ellelaconi