#this is NOT a fluffy fic it is very dark and violent and intense | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

midnightmoonkiss · 5 years ago

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The Lure Of Nightfall [2]

Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader

Summary: After accidentally flying in on your best friend jerkin his meat to the thought of you, things get out of hand, and you’re thrown into a weekly routine.

WARNINGS!: Voyeurism, Masturbation

Category: Smut, Smut, Pure Smut.

Word Count: 8.7k+

A/N: You all wanted this! >.< I hope I delivered~

Just To Clarify:

This is a continuation!

panties are a bitch.

Part One

Tag List: @zylith-imagines-and-fics @birds-have-teeth @my-bnha-things.

The morning after carried on just as any Sunday would have.

Izuku woke up refreshed and ready to start his daily work out.

The strange bird encounter completely slipped his mind as he ran laps, pushing his legs to run faster and faster with each completed circle.

He was always one to push his limits, always one to ignore the burning in his calves and thighs as his legs became a blur of motion beneath him.

All he could think about was how many laps he had run, and how many more he had to go.

You could only ever push yourself so far. He learned that lesson the hard way not too long ago when he didnt stop running until his legs gave out and a student had to come and get him.

His legs were practically dead weight for the following few hours.

Sighing at the memory, he went on, arm coming up to wipe the sweat from his brow.

It was 9:00AM when he finally finished his workout routine, a little later than he was used to. But who could blame him? He did go to bed later than his schedule recommended, after all.

But..

That wasn’t..

His fault..

He frantically shook his head, scarred palms slapping his redding cheeks as what got him so riled up in the first place flickered through his mind.

He did not need to have such thoughts at this moment.

Heading back to his dorm, he grabbed his shampoo and body wash, as well as a fresh change of clothes before skipping down the steps. He felt gross and sticky with sweat, and he couldn’t wait to feel the rush of water against his skin.

Oh!No one’s here!

He thought happily as he practically skipped into the bathroom, putting his clothes in the locker beside the shower stall he chose.

He hopped into the shower, not bothering to turn the heat on as cold showers always seemed to snap him out of any dirty thoughts. Plus, not only did they help make someone more alert after an intense workout, the cool water always left a heated body feeling much better.

Once done, he quickly dried off and changed, making his way to the sinks to brush and fully dry his thick, damp hair.

Such fluffy hair regrettably required a stay-in conditioner, or else it would look simply dreadful - frizzy hair galore. No one, especially him, wants that. Though it took away that masculine scent of body wash guys apparently are supposed to thrive in, it did make him smell pretty sweet. It all fit together perfectly in a way. Sugar n’ spice made everything nice, right?

As he was spraying the stay-in conditioner, running a wooden comb through the damp, curly green locks, he let his mind wander.

He forgot something, didn’t he?

It felt like he did.

He chewed his pouty bottom lip, eyes narrowing as he let his arms run on autopilot so his thoughts could drift.

He wasn’t usually so forgetful, so what on Earth was he forgetting?

Something the other day, surely.

He didn’t have anything planned today.

Just relax and enjoy life for a second. They didn’t get breaks often, and last Sunday he was at the mall all day with you and his friend group.

You..

What about you?

He felt like you were the key to his confusion and forgetfulness, but why?

He hadn’t had an interaction with you yesterday that would require his immediate attention, so-

Wait.

His movements stopped as he stared wide-eyed at his reflection in the mirror.

Most birds sleep at night, that was common knowledge.

So why the hell was there one on his balcony so late last night.

He dropped his comb, wood clanging loudly onto the floor, the noise echoing around his suddenly deaf ears.

Birds don’t nuzzle fingers.

Birds fly away when a human approaches.

That wasn’t any ordinary bird.

That wasn’t a bird at all, was it?

No.

There was only one person who could turn into a bird..

And that person was..

You.

Oh god.. Oh god, no!

Izuku collapses to his knees, arms wrapping securely around his head as he blushes and whines like a mad man.

You saw him! You had to have seen him!

He was!

He was naked-!

You didn’t… you didn’t see and hear him in the act, right!?

He shakily inhaled, shameful tears blurring his vision.

You heard him moan out your name, didnt you!

You must hate him now! Think he’s disgusting..

What type of person masturbates to their best friend!

But he couldn’t help it!

He’s been in love with you for so long..

He knew his dreams would never come to fruition, that you would never like him as much as he liked you, so he took to his mind to live out a life he’s always wanted.

One his body so desperately craves.

It was so humiliating!

How could he face you..?

Fat tears streamed down his face, heart breaking at the thought of you never speaking to him again. His mind fled to a dark place, completely ignoring the fact that the bird had been so gentle with him and seemingly uncaring.

So, imagine his surprise when you happily greeted him at one of the tables as he walked out of the bathroom for water.

Upon seeing his tear stained face, worry quickly consumed you, face contorting as you jumped up and rushed over to him.

“Hey, are you okay? What’s wrong, ‘Zuku? You were crying?”

You bombarded him with questions, hands coming up to delicately cradle his burning face between them.

His head felt fuzzy as he stared into your (E/C) eyes glimmering with concern.

A whimper built up in the back of his throat, fearful that you’d still leave him.

But why were you acting like last night never happened? That you didnt watch him defile your name?

Well, to be honest, you currently clung onto the hope that he never realized it was you. He wasn’t acting angry or upset like you’d expect him to if he did find out, so it was obvious you were in the clear.

Except, you weren’t. And he did know.

He just didn’t know why, why you were there or why you watched him. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel as creeped out about as he probably should have, it was like there was a small bell of honor ringing in his chest.

All in all, he figured you wanted to hang out, that’s why you were there in the first place.

But he wanted to know why you watched him - why you didn’t leave the moment you no-doubt saw him pleasuring himself.

God, he felt stupid.

He should have paid more attention to the time he chose, you always came to his dorm around that time during the weekend!

He wanted to facepalm, hide his ashamed face beneath his palms.

But for now, he’d soak in the feeling of your soft hands holding his face, thumbs brushing away stray tears.

You were trying to hide it. Hide the fact that you saw him. He’d indulge you, pretend he didn’t know anything

“Y-Yeah! I’m alright..!”

He smiled.

And so the show began.

He never stopped hanging out with you, and the shame soon melted away into desire as the days trudged on.

He didnt know why, but the thought of you watching him do something so intimate.. It thrilled him to his very core, sent tingles down his spine and left him breathless for a moment or two.

It actually gave him quite a few boners in class, much to his embarrassment. Lord, did his mind wander too much. He was just a hormonal teenage boy, after all.

Funnily enough, he could feel that the majority of the time you spent around each other, your stare was directed towards him. It was as if he was your center of attention throughout most classes these days, the apple of your mesmerizing eyes, and it felt amazing.

Like.. like he was the only thing you cared about. Only thing you needed.

He loved that feeling.

He wanted more.

He wanted you to, in a way, need him as much as he needed you.

He wanted it to happen again, wanted to know what it would feel like if he was actually aware of it occurring rather than only finding out about it the next day when his senses came back.

So, he decided he’d try touching himself every Saturday at the same time, since that is when you last showed up, leaving his window and curtains open just so you could, theoretically, get a good view.

He knew how wrong it was, wanting his best friend to watch him do something so sinful at nightfall whilst holding innocent conversations during the daylight.

He was too horny for his own good. Could you blame him?

The first attempt was unsuccessful, and he never did feel your piercing gaze on his trembling body as he worked himself to completion.

It was disappointing, but he had hope, and an unexpected outlet for his sexual frustrations.

Meanwhile, you were going crazy.

It felt like you were holding onto a dirty little secret, one Izuku had absolutely no idea about.

Everyday you had to force yourself to not let the image of him writhing sinfully around on his sheets float to the surface of your overactive mind.

You definitely did not need any soaked panties, especially considering you’d have to walk around all day like that.

It was truly a blessing in disguise.

Was it strange to say that in a way you got off on talking innocently to Izuku now?

Staring into his beautiful green eyes, talking about the math homework you forgot to do, all you could think about was how those eyes were glazed over with lust, pupils blown ridiculously wide as he came all over himself.

Such a messy boy.

Gah!

You aggressively shook your head in class, hands rubbing aggressively at your closed eyes to try and erase the image..

“(Y-Y/N)? Are y-you okay?” Izuku stuttered nervously, hands outstretched, ready to place them on your shoulders if you needed to be steadied.

You were simply talking, but suddenly you had such a violent reaction when he asked what answer you got for question three on the homework!

Had you not done it? Maybe you had had quite the trouble with it and didn’t want to remember the minutes wasted on chewing on your mechanical pencil as tears of frustration streamed down your face? He’d seen it occur before, It was a very weird and.. sad.. sight.

“Ah!” You yelped, ripping your hands from your face as you suddenly remembered where you were - you couldn’t just pull that sort of stunt in class, it’d make people think you were weirder than you already clearly are!

But that was just the start of it all.

You so desperately wanted to see him in that state again, wanted to hear your name slip from his spit-slicked raw lips in a wanton moan.

The fact that he was your best friend slowly started to fade from your mind, replaced by lustful desires. What’s shame? Never heard of that.

Who could hear anything over your moans anyway?

Night fell into a routine of your hands stuffed down your panties, fingers covered in your own slick rubbing roughly at your puffy clit as two of your fingers thrust in and out of yourself.

You constantly wondered just what that pretty boy imagined in that oh-so-obviously dirty mind of his as he pumped his cock.

Was he imagining you riding him, face smothered by your tits, mouth latched onto one of your perky buds, sucking the red flesh into his mouth as you bounced up and down on his long, painfully hard and throbbing cock?

Your breath caught in your throat at the image, fingers speeding up.

Or perhaps was he imagining pounding into your tight little pussy, your legs wrapped around his slim hips, fingers clawing red marks into his back so that he could show them off whilst changing into his gym clothes the next day in the locker room?

You squealed as you suddenly clenched down on your two digits, the coil wound tight in your stomach from all the dirty images whizzing past your head snapping unexpectedly, cumming all over your fingers.

You laid there panting, eyes staring deliriously up at the star-covered ceiling.

You had to see him in the act again, no question about it.

It was unfortunate how you passed out from exhaustion Saturday before the time Izuku would ultimately begin going mad in his bed.

It was hard not to beat yourself up over it, especially since you now had to suffer through another week of not seeing his pretty face drenched in sweat, mouth wide open and tongue flopping out.

Grr!

More suffering for the both of you.

It was still so very funny how despite all of these lewd thoughts the both of you possessed for one another, you still got along just as well as before.

It was as if nothing had happened at all.

Honestly, it was a great relief to the both of you.

Originally, you had thought that since you saw him in that new light, you’d be unable to have a decent conversation with him, and he thought that you’d be too disgusted with him to ever even think about speaking to him.

Of course, that was bullshit.

He knew you purposely stayed there to watch him.

That was part of the reason he wanted it to happen again.

He was clinging onto the hope that you liked him back, and that’s why it seemed as if you ignored the whole thing.

No, wait. He didnt want it to happen again… he needed it to happen again. Not just to satisfy him, but to just see if it wasn’t a mistake. A clarification. Something he could cling to in his mind. Something that told him there was an even bigger chance that you might miraculously like some gross nerd like him back.

He was still insecure, even after all the body changes he has gone through.

The scars didnt help much, either.

He could look at his body and feel proud of how much stronger he was, but those rough scars that would permanently taint his skin always left him feeling a bit shy.

He openly showed them, of course, not afraid considering they were marks of his growth and a reminder that he was able to save someone, but they didnt exactly feel nice.

His skin was once silky smooth all over, but now it wasnt, and it would never be the same again.

You knew him without the scars for the longest, but that also meant you knew the whimpy Deku, and not the Hero Deku he was becoming.

So many thoughts were constantly racing around in his mind, it was hard to keep track of them at times.

He blocked out the thoughts with a heavy heart, going back to his previous activity.

And of course, for you, well, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t visit him in your bird form during the night on weekdays, curious to see if, by chance, he was up - which he often wasn’t, and if he was sinning.

To no avail, of course.

It was hard to place if you were missing it by some misfortune, or if he just wasn’t doing it. So Saturday was your best guess. You saw him do it that day, so you figured from the beginning you’d see him to it again on all Saturdays. That’s what you hoped, anyway.

The next Saturday, though, you were proven correct.

The scene was similar to the one from last time, you, perched on the railing, sliding glass door open, curtains pushed to the side, and Izuku moaning like a slut on his bed covers.

Your feathers ruffled up in excitement, it looked as if he just came from the shower, towel discarded on the floor.

Things were going to be much different this time, unknown to you, of course.

Because this time, Izuku knew you were there.

He knew you were watching him.

And he knew it was on purpose because earlier that evening you stopped by to play video games before ‘retiring’ for the night.

Naughty girl, did you expect him to believe that when he’s been able to see through your lies ever since childhood?

He could feel your piercing gaze, and it thrilled him, making his cock slathered in lube he recently purchased twitch against his toned stomach.

Currently, he was rubbing up and down his twitching thighs, trying to calm himself down since, in his excitement at hearing you drop by, he almost came.

You eagerly watched as he did so, black eyes following his beautiful hand movements.

His thighs were so, so glorious.

Was it a bad thing to want to be trapped between them whilst you sucked his pretty dick?

To have them suffocate you was a dream. You’d give just about anything for them to squeeze your head as he came closer and closer to unraveling.

His legs were always nice, but ever since he began using them to smash incredibly large and sturdy objects, your fixation with them grew.

Hell, who were you kidding? You loved every aspect of that boy.

You wanted to lather his perfect body in searing kisses, whispering praises under every breath you took.

Your toes curled, clinging onto the raining as you leaned forward eagerly, watching as his hands traced down his inner thighs, just to drag across the underside of his dick.

He gasped once his fingers ran over his slit, head shoving itself into his pillow.

He wanted to put on a good show for you, gauge your reaction from the corner of his half-lidded eyes.

Surely you’d be too transfixed by his lower half to notice dark green eyes gazing over at you.

And he was right.

Because you couldn’t tear your attention away from his crotch, his hips lifting off the bed as he slowly thrusted into the tunnel he made with his hand.

It was as if he was teasing himself by going slow, his whines for more being a clear give away, that and the twitch of his hips as he sought a faster pace but held himself back.

“A-ahh~ (Y/N).. S-so good.. To me..”

How could he not imagine his hands as your own?

Yours were so small, too.. Could they even fully wrap around his thick length? He was all too eager to find out, but that’d have to be for a later date. Hopefully.

As time flew by, his impatience grew.

He wanted to put a good show on for you, truly, he did! But he couldn’t help himself, he wanted to cum oh-so badly.

To have that knot that was already building up in his system before you flew in to finally burst.

Sobs tore from his throat as he finally gave in, aching cock slamming into his fist with a wet squelch as his hand squeezed and twisted down on his length.

He didn’t last long, soon releasing his seed all over himself once again with a shrill cry, body arching up beautifully off the bed.

Whilst regaining his breath, he shakily looked over at you, joy sparking in his system to see you leaning forward as if you were enraptured by him.

It felt so good.

This occured more often than either of you would like to admit, but yet, there was no complaints.

Like before, life carried on normally in the light of day, but Saturday night? Showtime.

It was always something new, much to your enjoyment.

One night, which just so happened to be one where a new moon hung high in the inky black sky freckled with stars, you had the pleasure of witnessing him fuck a pillow.

So sweet. A true jackpot.

Since the tranquil, silvery beams of moonlight were absent on this particular evening, an Allmight night light of sorts illuminated the room in a yellow glow. It was brighter than the times before, ultimately giving you a better look at just what he was doing.

That wasn’t all, though.

Before, with the pale light of the moon, he was always submerged in a sinful atmosphere.

But now, you see, he looked so very soft in this light. It showered his perfectly toned, freckled and sweaty body in such a warm glow. It radiated innocence, despite his downright dirty acts of self-care.

His face was pressed to the side of the mattress, drool dripping past his parted lips as he gasped and moaned, cheeks burning red, eyes closed and brows arched upward as he chased that sweet, sweet release he so anticipated. His hips rutted into the soft pillow like a bunny in heat. Scarred hands had a death grip on it, forcing it down on his cock to provide an addicting combination of pressure and pleasure. Though you couldn’t quite see his flushed dick in action, his adorable face and moans made up for it.

Was it too bold of you to say he was imagining the pillow was you?

The way your name rolled off his tongue certainly would lead to that blissful assumption.

Another night you had gotten there early.

It was a particularly breezy night, the wind making his curtains dance and hair sway slightly. It was still hard to believe he liked having his sliding-glass door open. Did he like the fresh air when he was left gasping from his ministrations? Or did he thrive on the possibility that someone could hear him cry out?

How alluring that thought was.

But, how foolish of you to assume you were being sneaky.

To your luck, getting there early meant you got to see him set up the act, anticipate just what he was about to do. Predictions flooded your mind as you watched him with a tilted head as he poured lube onto his shaky fingers.

Whatever he was about to do, he seemed nervous. A first time thing, perhaps? Or was he shaking with desire?

You’d later come to realize you never wanted to be in front of this man more than that night.

Because, to your utmost delight, that was the night you witnessed him finger himself for no-doubt the first time.

He was cautious and tense, you could easily tell from so far away. You couldn’t see what he was doing exactly, but it wasn’t too hard to put pieces of a puzzle together.

In the beginning, he was trying to ease himself into it, one hand languidly stroking his erection, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat, whilst the other seemed to tease at his opening.

He bit his bottom lip the moment he decided it was time to quit shitting around, thighs splaying wide open once again for better access - and to you, a better view. His eyes slipped closed as he tried to focus on what he was doing, momentarily stopping the strokes on his cock so his attention would be on the feeling of a single digit slipping in and out of his virgin hole. He stayed tensed for a while, obviously trying to adjust. It wasnt until a few minutes later that he started to get really into it, slipping in another finger as his hips started to rock to the slow beat set.

His weeping dick was given attention again not long after that, hips wiggling and high-pitched cries of ecstasy tears from his throat at the two hands working in unison.

You couldn’t help but hop from one foot to the other that night as you eagerly drank in the sight.

“A-ahh! O-h oh god! (Y-Y/N)! F-faster- oh! Ple-ase f-fahh! Uhn! Ha-ah- ah- ah!”

Were you fucking him in this fantasy? A strap on, maybe? You wouldnt oppose doing so, he’s so cute begging like this. Begging for a plastic cock to pound into his tight ass with each whine, whimper, and moan.

He finished quite quickly, fingers probably finally finding that sweet spot deep inside of him. His eyes shot open, going cross as he practically screamed into the night.

And most recently, you witnessed him cum so hard he passed out for a few moments.

And you knew exactly why.

Because earlier that day, your boredom once again got the best of you, and you couldnt help but notice Izuku was lost in his thoughts during a break period. So, being the cheeky shit you were, you waltzed on over to him, leaning down to whisper in his ear “Hey.”

It was funny how he had to slap a hand over his mouth, obviously hiding a whine. You knew your voice had an effect on him, especially when it was lowered an octave. Pair that with your hot breath fanning over his overly sensitive ear? The man was pudding.

“(Y-Y/N)! I-I told you to stop doing that..!” He blushed, eyes squeezing shut to avoid your smirking face.

But that wasn’t all, no. You sat in his lap after that. He almost died, face a cherry red as his hands were held up, not sure where to put them.

It was honestly a rare occasion, for Iida was out with Momo for class president and vice president duties. You had to take advantage of that.

“What? I don’t want to stand this whole time!” Came your pouty response, and he most definitely couldn’t refuse those puppy-dog eyes you used on him.

To his horror, you wiggled in your fleshy seat, trying to get ‘comfortable’ whilst pretending you had no idea what you were doing to him. You knew damn well what it was you were doing, you were grinding your ass on his crotch - just for an agonizing moment.

It was hard to get him to form a sentence that wasn’t broken with stutters the whole time you sat atop his lap. He was so cute, all blushy like that. A little strawberry.

The second Iida and Momo came back from their duties, you jumped off his lap, startling him once again. To your ‘misfortune,’ you dropped the pencil which was tucked into your shirt pocket. So, you promptly bent down to get it, giving the perverted Izuku behind you a glorious view of your round ass covered by a pair of lacy white panties.

It was a wonder how he didn’t pass out as you expected him to, honestly.

You never heard him cry out your name as much as you did that very night.

Who knew such a shy and bashful boy could be so.. Lewd?

It was a major turn on, you could only imagine what it would be like to be there with him.

Oh, how glorious that would be.

To stare into his eyes blown wide with lust and glazed over with desire, knowing full well you were the true reason behind it - and not just his hands.

You wanted to..

You wanted to do so many things to and with him.

But you couldn’t.

Because at the end of the day, you were still only best friends.

He may call your name in the dead of night, he may beg for you in his dreams, but that doesn’t make you more than what you were when the sun rises yet again over the grassy hill coated in morning dew.

Just friends.

Friends until actions occur that change the definition of the word.

‘Friends’ brought a bitter taste to your tongue when it came to describing Izuku. You wanted to be more than just…. ‘Friends.’

But that was selfish of you.

You couldnt always get what you wanted, even if both parties want the exact same thing.

You could never live with yourself if you forced yourself onto him when he wasn’t ready to accept it. You knew very well how easily overwhelmed he could get. You worried that if.. your Saturday night activities got around to him, that he’d never want anything to do with you again. You were playing a dangerous game.

It was a hard concept to grasp, really.

But little did you know, he would be perfectly okay with it. More than okay, actually.

In fact, he craved it so, so much. With each Saturday that came, with every show he put on for you, he so desperately wished you’d revert back to your human form and come join him on his messy bed. He wanted to feel your soft skin brush against his overheated body. He wanted that intimacy.

He knew you wanted it too, he’s seen you almost fly right on into his room with particular moments.

He loved being watched by you, gaining validation every week by your intense, infatuated gaze, but he didn’t know how much more he could take. It was driving him absolutely insane. He noticed himself becoming more brash and reckless during training, his frustration taking over his senses and causing absolute mayhem.

In the beginning, speaking to you outside of these downright shameful acts was exhilarating, but now it was simply infuriating. How could you act like nothing was happening? How could you stay so innocent whilst he was out here losing his marbles?

The rubber band holding his sanity together was stretched too thin, he had no doubt that it would snap any day now and his carnal desires will be let loose.

Such a risky thing he had willingly got himself into.

But that band snapped much sooner than he predicted, and there was no going back after that.

It’s been nearly two months since this whole act started.

It’s gotten progressively hotter outside, it was almost as if the sun itself had something personal against anyone and everyone who walked in it’s brilliant light.

The training has gotten harder thanks to the sweltering heat. Primetime to exercise until you feel like throwing up, yeah?

They were supposed to progress on their workouts throughout the year, but damn did this heat wave come at an unconventional time. Poor Tokoyami almost had a heat stroke.

The intensity of the workouts was making everyone antsy. The weekdays were hell on Earth, so the weekends became an even bigger godsend to the poor hero students working to achieve their dreams.

That being said, what better way to distress than too..?

This week was particularly stressful, and after the hell Izuku and his fellow classmates were put through, he craved that certain destresser he’s been hooked on for far too long.

It was unfortunate that he cracked a bit earlier than his scheduled 11 PM rub out, making it only to 10:41 PM before his dirty thoughts overtook his being and made his dick twitch to life in his shorts. He wanted to wait, but he became increasingly uncomfortable, hips shimmying, trying to find a comfortable position to wait around in.

After promptly giving up, he leaned back on his bed, tugging his shorts off and letting his eyes slip shut as he palmed himself through his boxers.

Things always felt better for the green-eyed boy if he took it slow, working himself up to the point of desperation.

And that’s what he did.

He knew you wouldnt be there for a while, he knew his heart wouldnt be pumping like it always did when you showed up, so he fell back onto Plan B, fully emerging himself in a fantasy.

He hadn’t done that since you first showed up. A trip on memory lane.

But now he had a chance.

Though he had to admit, he’d much prefer it if you were there..

In his mind, he wasn’t in some silly dorm.

He was a pro-hero living in a large apartment with pristine windows that reflected the night lights of the mesmerizing city below like lanterns in the sky. The interior lights were off, the room cast in a soft orange glow by a gentle flame flickering in the sandstone fireplace situated in front of the satin burgundy couch he sat upon. Soft moans filled the atmosphere, paired with the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the complex.

You were in his lap, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as you hung on for dear life. Your nails gave him an addicting sting as they dug into freckled skin, his name escaping your parted lips like a prayer, moans much louder than his own accompanying the pleas. He was in heaven, surely, for how else could there be such a beautiful angel in his lap?

You were glowing, cheeks blazing a deep maroon color, the light of the fire behind you encasing you in a soft, golden gleam.

A heavy breath blew out Izuku’s nose, closed eyes scrunching as he finally decided to rip his boxers off. His rough hand immediately wrapped itself around his cock, hissing in pleasure and thanking the heavens just this once for being such a heavy pre producer - he was far too enraptured by this fantasy to even think about trying to get his trusty bottle of lube.

Avoiding the flushed head, his hand squeezed and twisted it’s way up and down his slicked up shaft, hiding the wet noises with his pathetic whines.

He dived back into his mind.

You were kissing him fervently, tongues dancing in hot caverns as your noises of pure pleasure molded together. Though you were on top, you were far from having control. Izuku’s hands squeezed your hips in a death grip, bouncing you on his throbbing member, green sparks illuminating his body as to ensure a delicious yet inhuman pace.

He could feel you. He swore he could, even from on this bed, he could feel you. You were so warm, and so, so very tight.

He couldn’t handle it.

No.

He needed more.

He whined desperately on his bed, back arching as he chased his fantasy but soon lost it as the familiar fluttering of small wings blocked out all other sounds.

He gasped, trying to catch the breath that seemed to constantly slip past him. He was too worked up.

He was too needy. He was aching, body shaking with anticipation and eagerness.

He craved you like a man craved water after stumbling through a burning hot desert all day.

You were so close to him, he could reach out and swear he could feel your feathers beneath his fingertips.

He was past the point of no return, his fantasy just couldn’t do it for him.

He needed you, god he needed you so so bad it hurt.

Sobs tore from his throat, hands stuttering as his eyes finally flew open,

“(Y-Y/N)! Please!” He cried out with a strangled moan, vision wavering from the pain of not having you with him despite being right there.

Swallowing all of his pride, he looked towards your perched form, tears slipping from his sparkling viridescent eyes glazed over with lust.

His chest was heaving, thighs quivering and body trembling as he called out to you with a salacious plea, “I can’t..! I can’t do this anymore, please! Please, I-I need you!”

He was begging, begging for you whilst simultaneously thrusting into his hand.

Such an erotic display.

At the moment, you couldn’t even care about the fact he clearly knew it was you there. In fact, it didn’t even come to mind as a jolt of electricity coursed through your body, returning you to your human form as you eagerly jumped off the railing to him, all too willing to join his lascivious activities.

He moaned with delight the second your knee hit his bed, dipping his body towards you. His filthy hand shot off his dick, joining the other with gripping at your baggy sleepwear, pulling you towards his burning body.

You fell onto him, not given a chance to collect your thoughts before a hand buried itself in your messy hair, yanking your hair so that he could easily smash his lips against your own.

The kiss was nothing like how you pictured your first with him to be. Instead of sweet and gentle, it was downright dirty and sloppy, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. You were both clearly inexperienced, but that didn’t matter. You just wanted to feel him, same as he wanted to feel you.

Your hands, shaking with the sudden extreme boost of adrenaline, cupped his chubby cheeks as your lips met again, and again, and again, drool mingling with his own as you tried to get the hang of this.

Eventually, your lips stayed connected, tongues fighting for dominance.

You couldn’t even tell, due to the heat of the moment overtaking your senses, but the entire time you made out, Izuku’s curious hands dragged ever-so-slowly down the sides of your body, feeling those curves that drove him absolutely insane. Just as it seemed as if you’d win the short battle, his large hands came over your plump ass, squeezing the soft flesh and causing you to gasp. With your mind distracted, he quickly smooshed his lips against your own once again, tongue defeating your own and giving him complete access to your mouth.

He explored it, the tip of the wet muscle seemingly grazing over and massaging in just all the right places, drawing a little moan from you that shot straight down to his neglected cock. It twitched against his stomach, and suddenly he wasn’t interested in just making out anymore. He needed more, and he’d fucking get it.

He’s waited so long for this moment, dreamt of it so often it became normal for him to wake up covered in sweat and with a raging erection straining against his shorts.

His grip on your ass moved to your hips, dragging them down onto his member and grinding you down against him.

You both moaned, hips involuntarily jerking against one another, starting up a grinding fest.

Moans melted together as you both continued to kiss before a particularly rough thrust sent your head flinging back and a mewl spewing from you.

“A-ah.. Izuku..!” You shivered, eyes closing as you gripped at his hair. He stared up at you, eyes full of love but darkened by immense desire as you shamelessly moaned above him. His hips ground his rock-hard erection against your soaked panties, brushing roughly against your clothed clit. Your body seemed to jolt with every brush against it, your senses completely overloaded as you were driven mad with lust.

You shrieked with surprise as you were suddenly flipped over, body slamming onto the mattress as Izuku crawled over on top of you.

He continues to grind himself against you, hands moving your legs up so they could wrap around his hips. Whilst kissing at the side of your neck, his nose brushed along the skin, searching for that special spot.

Amidst your onslaught of noises, you made a sound clearly indicating he had found what he had been searching for. His hot tongue licked at the sensitive skin before he bit down on it.

You cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, jumping in his arms as an intense shiver rolled down your back, hands coming up to clutch at his broad shoulders smothered in freckles and burning with a blush.

You felt so, so tingly, so good, so.. So everything.

Perhaps that’s simply because of how worked up you currently were, every single touch lit your body aflame again and again. Besides, how could you keep quiet when he was rubbing against you in just the right place?

He sucked harshly at the tender flesh before kissing it lovingly as if to apologize for the brutal treatment, licking the pain away and continuing to nibble along the area, leaving a bruise that was sure to remain in the morning.

In fact, he decided, he was going to leave many. Just..not today.

He couldn’t deny, though, it did feel pretty good that his mark was on your soft skin where all could potentially see.

But for now, you had too many layers on for his current liking.

Izuku drew back, stopping the grind sesh - much to your apparent dismay, tugging at the hem of your shirt, silently asking for permission, and you willingly lifted your arms.

Had you not been so consumed with sheer desire, you would have covered your bare chest. Instead, you nodded your head, giving the man panting as if he had just run a mile permission to kiss his way down to the soft mounds he previously couldn’t help but bashfully stare at.

His lips lavished them both in kisses, praises unknowingly slipping out between his teeth until he finally decided to take one bud into his mouth.

He was sloppy, messy, and all-around inexperienced, but you couldn’t deny the fact that it still felt good.

He spent surely less than a minute giving attention to each perky nipple, but it was made up for by a sweet kiss. You eagerly returned it, body arching as if trying to bring him closer.

It was so strange how he took control so easily, he had been begging only a few minutes ago.

Not that you minded, of course.

After all, who doesnt like being pampered by their long time crush?

“May I?” He whispered breathlessly, trembling fingers hooked around your panties, ready to pull them off.

You nodded immediately, oh-so desperate to have him actually touch you. You needed to feel him. All this grinding did was leave you with a throbbing clit, pussy so wet your juices were close to flowing down your ass, and the want for more.

He smashed his lips back against your own, practically ripping the fabric off of you and flinging it to only god knows where in this dark room.

His lips didn’t leave yours as his hands traveled down your sides again, squeezing your ass just to hear you gasp.

You couldn’t tell if he was teasing you, or hit with a sudden wave of embarrassment as his fingers seemed to stutter on your thighs.

“It’s okay.. It’s okay..” You cooed against his lips, eyes opening to stare into his.

He gulped, swallowing his insecurities as he ran an index finger along your sit.

You bit your lip, eyes slipping closed once more and hips twitching forward at the foreign touch against heated flesh.

Izuku took this as a sign to go further, so he did.

Staring at your face, he pushed the finger past your lower lips, ignoring the intense throbbing of his dick as he felt how wet you were. The digit trailed down, searching for your clenching hole. When he found it, he couldnt help but teasingly trace around it, adoring the scrunch of your flushed face and the whine that followed suit.

“Please, Izuku..” You whimpered, and how could he say no to that?

He slowly pushed his finger in, nearly cumming on the spot from just how tight and warm you were. He openly moaned, watching as he sunk the finger all the way down to his knuckle.

Clouded eyes flickered back up to your face, noting how you didn’t seem to be in pain.

Licking his lips in anticipation, he pulled the finger out, then pushed it back in, over and over and over again as your thighs twitched around him, mouth falling open as you breathed heavily, moaning ever so softly.

His heart pounded in his chest as he added another finger, continuing the motions for before.

Your hips shimmied at the stretch, his fingers much larger than your own slim once, but so much nicer, because it was him, and not you. Your hips involuntarily chased the rhythm he set.

“Ahh.. haa..h.. Oh! Ah! Ahhhghh!” your eyes shot open as his fingers curled inside you, brushing against that spongey spot in your clenching walls. “Oh! T-There Iz-Izuku~!” You moaned out his name, and it was as if his body got put on autopilot, fingers thrusting in and out of your sopping heat, curly against that spot that had you moaning.

A particularly loud squeal left your parted lips, and he snapped. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed you so bad it hurt. Watching your body react violently around only his fingers? The cherry on the cake!

He needed his dick in you, to feel those soft walls clenching around him, to hear you cry out his name more as he brought you to the peak of madness.

But he was worried about how long he’d last.

He was so close before, what if he came nearly immediately?

Pulling his fingers out fully, which drew your attention back to him, he lifted them to his mouth, shoving them in and putting on a sinful display of licking them clean for you

He smiled at you with half-lidded eyes as you stared at him with astonishment. Lurching forward, you took him by surprise by gripping his sweaty hair and pulling him down for another passionate kiss, moaning around his tongue as you tasted your essence on him.

Keeping his focus on the kiss, Izuku’s hand blindly felt around his bedside table, opening the drawer and somehow managing to find the single condom he kept in there.

You noticed it from the corner of your eye, the moonlight reflecting on the silver wrapper.

“When did you get that?” You pulled away from the kiss, indulging in your curiosity as you stared at the condom between his fingers.

He chuckled nervously, looking to the side in embarrassment, “I- I got a pack from the corner store.. Not long ago..”

He left out the motivation behind it, not ready to reveal he knew you were watching him the entire time - thus bringing forth his precautious side as he fumbled with measuring himself and getting the right size.

“Now, I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait any longer, princess..” He whispered under a heavy breath, ripping open the packaging, grabbing the latex and rolling it on himself, ignoring your eyes practically burning holes into his heated skin as they watched with eagerness.

Now that it was on, he looked back up to you, hand coming to gently caress your face, thumb smoothing over your blushing cheek as he leaned down to kiss you once more.

Yes, he wanted to pound you into next tomorrow right this instant, be he couldnt ignore the fact that this was your first time together. He wanted it to be.. Sweet.

As sweet as he could make it, anyway.

He jumped in his own skin when he felt your cold fingers wrap around his cock, bringing his oozing head towards your entrance. He was quick to replace them, though, just so he could rub himself between your folds and teasingly against your clit.

“..ready?” He asked nearly impatiently as he guided his tip to your entrance once more.

He slowly pushed in the moment you nodded your head.

Oh god! He thought to himself as he moaned loudly. He was only in by an inch and already it felt like his world was spinning! You were so damn tight!

He nearly collapsed on top of you, bringing his hands up just to hold your own against the bedsheets.

He was being much too slow for your liking. You were so aroused on, so ready for him that, though you appreciated him going slow for you, you couldn’t handle another second with this agonizing pace.. So, without warning, your legs, which were still wrapped around his hips, tightened, and you forcefully drove his hips forward, fully sheathing him inside you.

He screamed in pleasure, head involuntarily being thrown back as his eyes rolled back. You moaned along with him, the feeling of being full outweighing the slight stinging pain that it brought with it.

His fingernails dug into your hips as he tried to control himself, his body vibrating from how much he was shaking. You held him flushed against you, eyes squeezing shut as you fought to relax around him and get used to his length. Which was pretty damn big! Perhaps you bit off more than you could chew..

But it didn’t take long for the pain to slowly subside, and you were back in business. Meanwhile, Izuku was staring cross-eyed up at the ceiling, holding himself back from exploding.

“Izu-”

“I-I Don-t think I c-can last long, (Y/N)...” he whimpered out, chest heaving and heart hammering.

You nodded in understanding, he was quite busy with himself before you showed up anyway.

And now all this? It certainly must be sudden.

Plus, Izuku has always been a sensitive boy, so no doubt his nerves were on fire.

Nonetheless, he was quick to catch on to your ‘okay’ for him to move.

So, he pulled himself out halfway, nearly sobbing as he thrusts back in.

You felt so good.. So good.. sogood- “So good.. Ahh! A-ahh nnghjnn S-so go-goo- gahn! Hahhh!” The sheer velocity of his moans overpowered your own as he soon found himself uncontrollably drilling his cock into your pussy, absorbed by the feeling of you sucking him back in like a black hole just to squeeze the life out of him.

That hot coil that had been winding up in his stomach all this time was soon to burst, he could feel himself getting closer and closer with every slap of skin against skin, edged on by your beautiful moans.

“(Y-Y/N)!! I-I’m gonna! I-!” He could barely form any sentences, all that spilled out of that drooling mouth were moans and mindless babbles and praises.

You were just as close, but you wanted more.. So, you ripped one hand free from his grip, licking a digit before thrusting it down just to furiously rub at your puffy clit aching for attention.

You both moaned simultaneously, him at the sight, and you at the combined stimulation.

He was about to break, about to hit the point of no return when he found your G spot. You cried out in ecstasy, body practically arching of the mattress as he focused deep, powerful thrusts on that area.

And by some miracle, you reached your high before he did.

A wave of electrifying pleasure washed over you as your body tensed beneath him, back arching impossibly high off the mattress as your walls seemed to clamp down on his cock like a vice just as that burning hot coil wound tight in your belly burst. Stars bloomed in your eyes as your vision went black, Izuku’s name tearing from your throat.

Your hot, wet walls clamping down on him threw him into his own long-awaited and intense orgasm. His thighs tensed as he cried out in ecstasy into the night air, hips slamming into your fluttering cunt once more before thick, hot cum shot from his dick, filling up the condom deep inside of you.

You both stayed like that for a moment, basking in the afterglow of something you both waited weeks for.

He inhaled shakily before pulling his softening member out, rolling the condom off in a sleepy haze before tying it off and throwing it into the trash bin.

He flopped down beside you, far too sleepy to even think about getting up.

You were already fast asleep, and he couldn’t wait to join you. Wrapping his scarred arm around your waist, he pulled your warm body to his chest, tangling his legs with yours and falling asleep within moments to your soft breaths and the crickets singing outside his glass door.

There was a lot to talk about tomorrow morning.

You’d both have to explain yourselves, talk about what happened, what was next, and confirm feelings for each other. That this wasn’t just a ‘one night stand’ between friends.

And, of course, you’d be hit with a truck of pain between your legs, rendering you unable to walk properly. At least Izuku is there to take care of you, and that it was a Sunday.

Until you both come to the horrifying realization that Izuku, in the heat of the moment, accidentally flung your panties out the open window, which was then miraculously carried by a stray gust of wind just for Kaminari to find in a bush by the side of the building the following morning when taking the trash out.

Thank god nobody recognized them, but you could only hope you’d get the chance to get that back before he, along with Mineta, no doubt do something with them.

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jay-and-dean · 4 years ago

Text

More like him

Dean x reader

So I had this request :

I loved it, but it was a real challenge because I thing it wouldn’t be really “Dean like” to go on a diet. It took me months to manage to be satisfied by it. I really hope you like it. Oh, and I added a little Smut, couldn’t help it.

For me this fic is kinda part of the Become that Girl “saga”.

Warning : Swearing. Sassy Sam. Suffering and mentions of unhealthy behaviors and drinking. Jealous Dean. Insecurities. Smut. Unprotected sex (you’re smarter than this). Angst. Fluffy Fluff.

This is both in Reader’s Pov and Dean’s Pov

Words : 10.3 k (yes. You asked for it.)

Jay’s MASTERLIST

Dean’s Pov

A grunt and a yawn. I turn around, a little pain in my neck from sleeping on the same position for hours.

I drank too much last night, again. My arm blindly searches for a bottle of water in the deep dark of my windowless room to fight the intense dry feeling in my mouth, but I find nothing.

“Shit.”

One more night in a shady bar, one more hangover, and one more woman I won’t remember.

Woman…

I frown with my eyes still closed and think of her, my stomach gets sick. She was among the prettiest girl I have been with, and she was a little too young for me, I’m sure she wasn’t twenty-five yet. I remember her friends, young and fit boys and girls, celebrating a birthday.

It’s really something how you see things differently when you’re drunk and when you are not. Maybe that’s why I drink so much : the sober truth gives me the creeps. Yesterday, I was feeling lucky, honored that a beautiful woman had laid her eyes on me, amazed by how confident she was. It felt like I had won the lottery of life, sex life at least. I was on top of the world, I could barely walk straight, but I didn’t care.

This morning is different. I lay here, nausea making me sweat, disgusted by my own smell and the taste in my mouth, wondering how I came home. I drove Baby drunk like Hell, I could have hurt someone, or damaged her.

“Shit” I grunt again.

How pathetic it is to go look for a college girl to feel alive ? How pathetic it is to spend the whole time we spent together too focused on trying not to be too old or too drunk to actually enjoy any of it ? How pathetic it is to think of another woman, the very second my eyes open ?

I need coffee.

I get up and make my way to the bathroom to pee and take a shower, I can’t stand the smell on me : alcohol sweat, the detergent of the cheap motel room I took not to bring her to our secret home, and, well, shame.

After brushing my teeth, I drink all I can from the sink and wonder if she is here. I really hope she is.

Y/n.

The woman I call my friend. The person that have actually been my closest friend with Benny and Cas, maybe even closer. If she’s in the kitchen, she will make fun of me, she will make loud pan noises just to make my headache worse because she says hangover is not enough punishment for hurting my body like that. But in the end, she will probably order pizzas and spend the day with me in the Dean cave not really watching movies while talking about any kind of stuff from hunts to music, from social matters to memories, food -she talks about food a lot, with sparkles in her eyes-, movies, sharks during shark week, horror movie clichés, her childhood, mine, and really intimate things like Hell, Purgatory, like my mom, her dad, our dreams...

I didn’t know I had so much dreams.

I put on underwear and the grey robe, then shuffle my way to the kitchen in the slippers that makes her call me grandpa.

Sam is there. All energetic, dressed with those black sweatpants and this ridiculously tight shirt, he's pressing oranges or whatever, and it's noisy as hell.

"Can't you be quite in the morning ?" I groan with a pained frown, sitting with my coffee in front of me.

"Morning ? It's noon, Dean. So, how was last night ? I guess it must have been great considering how late you came back."

"You heard me come back ?" I ask, wondering how late it actually was.

"No, but Y/n waited for you, and around five a.m. she thought you weren't coming home at all, so she went to bed. That's why we haven't been running yet, she barely slept."

I look at him but he's now turning his back on me to fill a bottle with water.

She has to stop doing that, waiting for me. I told her a few times already but it's like she was a worried mom or something. Y/n is always like that, she worries too much, every cut on Sam or me is a mortal wound, every yawn is a sign of exhaustion. And even if I secretly love this way more than I'll ever admit, I can't let her wait for me all night.

"Hey Dean" her voice catches my attention and I turn to meet her tired eyes.

How can she smile like that after the night she had ? How can she give me that kind smile? I really don't deserve it. I'm disgusting, damaged, violent even... Look at her.

She walks in and I can't help but drift along her naked legs, strong and soft. She's wearing her working out shorts, the ones torturing me some days, those tiny grey shorts holding her waist, that makes it impossible to not linger on her thighs. The t-shirt she wears is one of mine, or was, since she never gave it back. It's a plain back worn out t-shirt that has really nothing special. She says it's the comfiest.

"Hangover ?" she asks, handing me a slice of her apple.

"Yeah" I grunt, taking it.

I don't like rabbit food and she knows it. So instead of telling me to eat some, like Sam constantly tried for a while, she just gives me little bites of hers. A piece of apple there, a bite of banana, a little of spinach on her fork... and I always let her feed me, maybe just because she does with that adorable kind of smile each time.

"You came back late" she states, turning her back on me.

There is not an ounce of reproach in her voice, but something slightly sad. Maybe she pities me. If she had seen my evening, she would for sure.

A flash of that girl from yesterday saying my tattoo is weird and old fashion comes to my mind and I rub my face.

"Is there a hunt ?" I ask.

I really need a hunt, I really need some action and to get out of here.

"No" my brother lightly shakes his head.

"I thought I had found one" Y/n adds. "But it turns out it really was a bear this time !"

Her chuckle warms my heart.

"Movies in my room ?" I offer, trying to sound like it doesn't really matter, but the truth is, this perspective is what got me out of bed...

Reader's Pov

I cut another slice of apple with my hunter knife and give it to him.

"Hum, maybe later" I answer, looking away. "Sam and I planned on running to the lake..."

"The lake !" he almost chokes. "It's like twelve miles away !"

Sam chuckles and puts a hand on my shoulder, to inform me he's ready to go. He has been waiting for me a long time already, but I needed to check on Dean before I left for the day.

"Yeah..." I mumble. "And I want to practice my gun skills after, of fight skills if Sammy is not too tired from the running."

"I could help you practice too" he states and I give him a knowing smile.

Dean is not interested in training me, he never was. And, unlike me, he barely needs practice himself anyway, so why should he care ? He's just the best, that's natural. He's Dean Winchester, the best hunter in the world, the best man, the best everything actually. Between the ladies waiting in line to get a piece of him and his friends, the parties, but above all, constantly saving the world... He doesn't have time for me. We're not made of the same wood, I'm from those who have to work hard to keep up. And I never want to be a burden for any of them.

"What ? I could !" he grunts and his brother laughs.

"Yeah right, Dean" Sam mocks him, giving me my bag. "You would probably get a stitch from just stretching with Y/n ! She's getting good !"

"Don't listen to you brother" I assure Dean with a little smile on the corner of my lips.

I walk out of the bunker with Sam's back in front of me and bite my cheek, trying to ignore that sharp pain in my chest.

That pain that fell on me again while I was waiting for him, trying to not imagine what he was doing, that dread burning my guts ; and the other, even worse, pain that kept me awake once I was finally sure of what he was doing.

Once outside, the tall hunter stretches a little, humming at the soft spring breeze.

"Why did you wait again" he finally speaks, earning only a sigh from me. "Y/n... I know you need to make sure he's safe but you're hurting yourself. Talk to him..."

"We already talked about this" I just shrug before I start running.

Dean's Pov

I stay in the kitchen, my heart pounding in my head, my liver struggling.

Of course she won't spend the day with me. Why would she ? She waited all night and I was busy partying like those pathetic guys who didn't understand college is over.

You didn't even went to college...

Sipping at my coffee, I think of my brother’s hand on her shoulder and shiver, not really understanding why. I mean, he’s her friend too, a good friend actually, but something changed lately. They are close, more and more every day.

She used to spend all her time with me and now that I think of it… She does with him now. It started with morning runs, then there were going to the grocery store together. They cooked, Sam never cooked in his life, she taught him a few “healthy” recipes while I was making fun of them. Several times I found them talking until late in the library, or sending each other texts during hunts, when they were apart the whole day.

Maybe I’m missing something coming slow… Maybe the woman I think of the second I open my eyes in the morning thinks of Sam.

Why wouldn’t she ? My brother is better than me in every ways.

Sam is smart and educated, went to college and all. They can probably talk about things I have no idea of…

Sam is brave and fair. He’s the best man I know, and if I think of one man that would deserve a girl like her...

What are you saying ? There is no other girl like her.

But above all… Look at him. He just grew old way better than I did. All those healthy craps I always made fun of, in the end he’s right. While I was drinking beer for breakfast and eating fat crap, he was running, practicing. And yes, during hunts we're equals, because I was raised in this life, but if I had to catch him running, I would have a heart attack before he breaks a sweat.

I never cared about all of this. About having abs, comparing my body to my brother's, or about being healthy for that matters. Because let's be honest, I never really cared about myself. And girls like me…Right ?

Stupid.

What girls though. It was a long time since Cassie, since Lisa... And lately the one-night stands have had a bitter taste.

Sex with stranger was fun at first, for years it was. New body, new voice, new taste, and skin and preferences... I guess a guy feels pride by having sex with a lot of different women. But most of the time it's far from great and I’m tired of starting over every time.

I just wonder how it feels to actually get to know someone intimately, to learn what makes them squirm, their secrets, to wake up next to a friend... Love must be so nice.

The only person I can think of is her, Y/n. The woman that is my friend and the only one I want tell my secrets, the things that make me squirm...

My Y/n.

I grunt, my heart beating too fast because of hangover, my skin still smells alcohol despite the shower.

I'm such a wreck and she's so pure. That woman overcame bad things, and I have seen her so depressed that she barely could move at all for days in the beginning of our friendship. And yet, here she is, smiling, running and dancing in the library at night, making me want to be better every day, to think more, be less self-destructive, to feel pride more than shame. Pride for helping people, pride for my little brother that I helped grow up, and pride for being her friend.

She’s always there, smiling when I need a smile, listening even when I can’t talk, rolled up asleep on a little corner of my bed when I had a night of nightmares. Her hand was in my back when mom betrayed us and chose to leave, like it was the only thing keeping me up…

I can’t imagine her gone, impossible. And I’m realizing, I can’t imagine her in the arms of another man. That’s selfish, but I have to admit it now. I love her. And I want her, I need her.

Yet all I do is pushing her in my brother’s arms. In my brother’s strong and fit arms…

Reader’s Pov

I’m running, my feet hurt and I have a stitch on my left side, my thighs are already sore and my skin and lungs are burning. But I ignore them. I run.

I run to ignore my imagination and the images it brings. Dean laying on his back, giving his precious body to a blond girl that doesn’t even know who he is, how lucky she is. Dean grunting when she swallows around him. Dean grabbing her hair, biting her neck, coming inside her. Dean with two girls, why not…

I run.

“Y/n !” Sam’s voice interrupts me. “Wow, easy tiger.”

Out of breath, he puts his hands on his knees and frowns at me.

“You know the point of all of this is not to faint ? It’s about endurance, not a sprint or a race.”

“I’m sorry, Sam” I sigh, my body screaming at me even more now that I stopped.

“Is this about Dean ?” he asks, making me roll my eyes.

“How running too fast could be about your brother ?” I grunt.

“You know perfectly why I say that” he shrugs, drinking from his water bottle. “Avoiding him won’t prevent the hurt.”

“It avoids the nausea from smelling cheap perfume on him at least…” saying that, I sit on a bench that is close in a huff. “I just…” I sigh, burying my face in my hands. “How do I avoid the hurt then ?”

“Talk to him” my friend says, joining me on the bench to sit next to me, his tall shadow wrapping me like angel wings, hiding me from this world I hate right now.

“Don’t be ridiculous” I scoff. “Hey Dean, could you not have sex with anyone ? It hurts me. Thank you.”

Sam lets out a chuckle and bumps my shoulder with his giant arm.

A woman in an elegant sports outfit runs pass us, her tall form bouncing on her thin legs with grace, making her shiny hair fly. Dean would like her, he would totally sleep with her… Oh wait, we’re in Lebanon, there aren’t many girls that pretty around here, maybe he already did…

“How about ‘I have feelings for you’ ?”Sam suggests with puppy eyes and a childish adorable shrug.

I sigh, rubbing my face. Why doesn’t Sam understand ?

“Yeah so it can make our friendship awkward forever, with pity and shit” I look down at my hands. “Or so he chooses to erase my memory like he did with Lisa ?”

A silence falls between us.

Sam knows what I think of this, how angry it makes me. Of course I don’t want to see him with Lisa, in fact my heart arches each time I think of what they had together, but take those memories from her… It wasn’t his choice to make. I happened to put myself in her shoes and hated it. I would rather long for a single smile from him all my life than being amputated of the only part of me I cherish : My love for him.

The second reason I hate it is because of what it says about him : Dean is really convinced that he is not good enough. For anything, for anyone.

During one of our nights in the Dean cave together, not really watching movies and drinking whiskey, he talked about it. And I know how much Lisa and him were meant to break up eventually. She wasn’t a hunter, and she didn’t really want to know about this life, even if she respected it. He was holding on to her like she was his only chance at happiness because, in his mind, happiness can’t come with the hunter life.

Erasing her memory was not only a way to “protect her”, it was a closure for him. Away of closing the normal life door forever and throw away the key.

“You know he doesn’t think he deserves…” Sam starts but I cut him.

“Don’t.”

I am a hunter. And despite the fact that I am desperately in love with my friend and going crazy with jealousy, I am pretty happy.

I am happy with my life, my heroic, never boring, full of magic life. I mean, they lost a lot, but do they think people with an apple pie life don’t ? Before I became a hunter, I went to so many funerals that the funeral home employees knew me personally before I hit puberty. And when you lose your family to cancer and heart attack, or suicide… You don’t even get to know for sure they’re in Heaven.

But I am a hunter now, and I know. I am relieved and I feel safer, because magic exists, Heaven exists, and angels, even if they are quite different from what I had imagined.

“I just want Dean to be happy” I sigh and Sam’s giant hand rubs my back.

That’s the truth. I wish with all my heart that Dean would realize he can be happy now. That the horror he has been through is over, and that the hunter life he can’t quit doesn’t mean he has to be miserable.

And that is the reason I have to be the best friend I can. That’s the reason I have to swallow that jealousy that is making me bitter, to just love him, as selflessly as I can.

“Can we go home ?” I ask and Sam nods.

Dean’s Pov

I close the bathroom closet and swallow the pill, bending to drink water from the sink, then stand in front of the mirror.

I never really thought of it, but I’m a little pudgy. My hips are not straight and firm, is my butt a little large ? I frown, making my wrinkles appear and sigh. And those freckles… I never really paid attention to them until that college girl said something about it. Something with a kind smile but her mean girl voice betraying her : “I guess it’s cute, but it always kinda look like the skin is dirty, you don’t have too many on the face so it’s okay”. Why do I have so many freckles ? Dad didn’t, mom either I think, not on her face anyway, and Sam… Sam’s skin is darker than mine, and perfectly smooth. Y/n must like that too.

Stop whining like a teen.

I walk to my room and sit there, trying to ignore the voices in my head saying Y/n likes my brother. Does he like her too ?

I take my headphones and turn the music on loud, closing my eyes, too bad for the headache, the silence is worse anyway.

I’m in Hell, tied up like Alastair used to chain me, but I’m not hurt. Sam enters and points his finger at me.

“You will never be as good as me” he says. “Dad was better, I am better, and the woman you love ?” His laugh is terrifying, evil.

He puts his finger on my stomach and pushes it harder and harder on me, until it hurts.

Until it hurts a lot.

“You’re soft” he says, covering my whines of pain, that come out with my child voice now. “Dad was right, you’re too soft. Your heart is soft, your body too. You couldn’t say no to Alastair, like you can’t say no to a burger” his finger is so strong, like metal, and it feels like it is going to go through my skin and muscles any moment. “You have no self-control. You’re pathetic, Dean… Dean ? Dean.”

I gasp, half sitting when I open my eyes.

“Sorry” Y/n says, and I look up to find her next to my bed, her hands up in a peace gesture.

“You’re back ?” I ask, still slightly panting.

The sight of her worried face makes my heart slow, and I notice she’s wearing that comfy pajama of hers, the very loose t-shirt draping lazily from her body, embracing her sweet curves.

“I got tired of running” she smiles kindly, finally plunging her hands in her sweatpants pockets.

I grunt and look at my watch, I have been sleeping a few hours, and I think the hangover is gone.

“I came to ask you if you were hungry and… You didn’t seem well” she nibbles at her lips. “Sorry if I scared you.”

I rub my eyes and give her a weak smile.

“You didn’t” I state. “I’m super hungry, yeah.”

I am. When I drink like that, I often skip diner.

I get up and grunt, rubbing my eyes. I thank her, walk to the kitchen with her and sit at the table in a sigh.

“So” she says with that radiant smile on her face. “I was thinking of making burgers. I know I don’t cook them as good as you, but !”

She turns around and shows me her phone screen, moving it too much in her enthusiasm for me to see anything. I chuckle and grab her wrist to still it, enjoying the softness of her skin under my fingers. On the phone, a recipe. “The best burger possible”, with descriptions of how to make the onions crispy, and to make the best sauce…

“Maybe I will finally make burgers as good as yours or close” she states, taking her hand back to read the recipe.

“You know you’re cute ?” I state, but I can’t give her the tender expression I intend to, as my dream comes back to me.

Maybe I should learn to say no to a burger.

“Not as much as your sleepy head” she chants.

“You know…” I clear my throat. “Maybe for once, we should eat what you like and not my greasy crap, like Sam says.”

She stops and turns to me with a pan in her hand and a surprised look.

“But” she pouts. “Me like burger.”

I look down, trying to think of something to say, she actually looks a little disappointed. She was so proud of what she had found… That woman is like a ray of sun.

When I’m about to tell her that I would love to taste her burger, regretting having made her beautiful smile fade, she puts her phone on the table before me and starts looking in the fridge.

“I get it Dean.”

“Really ?”

“Too much alcohol, your grandpa stomach is fragile” she chuckles and I wonder how she seem to never show real hurt, annoyance or disappointment at anything I say. "Okay, you asked for it, I prepare the same for you as I do for Sam and me."

“Yeah…” I mumble.

My eyes fall on her phone and my heart flutters. She forgot to lock it, and it’s the first time I see her wallpaper picture. It’s us. Just me and her. I remember that day.

It was last summer, we were hunting a Wendigo that attacked campers, and had to camp ourselves in the wood for a night to find it. It was a beautiful night. When the photo was taken, I was telling a story, standing with a large smile on my face and a beer in my hand. Y/n came close, I don't remember why, and she wrapped her arms around me, holding my waist with her head on my shoulder.

The picture really looks like we were a couple. She's staring up at me while I tell the story, her face inches away from mine. Behind us, that beautiful lake and a part of her blue tent. I don't remember who took this photo, and I think this moment must have been very short, or I would remember it. Maybe she just came that close to tell me something in the ear, maybe it was one of those quick hugs she gives me when I say something sad or mention being hurt.

Why would she have that on her screen ? Before I can think of it further, her phone locks by itself and becomes black.

I look up, her back is still on me, she's cutting something. With a discreet finger, I touch her phone, trying to make the photo appear again but her lock screen makes me sigh.

Sam, of course Sam. It's a selfie they took together, simple and cute, both looking at the phone my brother is holding.

"I'm afraid you'll still be hungry after th-" she turns around and her eyes fall on my finger on her phone. "But if you are, there is pie" she states, taking her phone to put it in the back pocket of her jeans.

Like she needed to hide something, like she was embarrassed that I saw that Sam is on her screen.

She arranges her salad or whatever she's making, puts a plate in front of me, and two others for Sam and her.

"Sam !" she calls and I look down at the plate.

I must say my it is pretty, all colorful. I recognize avocado, tomatoes... But as pretty as it is, it doesn't make me hungry, rabbit food never does.

"Oh wow, Dean is grounded or something ?" my brother chuckles, entering the kitchen.

"Leave him alone" she answers before I can make a comment. "His stomach is still upset."

Sam gives me suspicious look, I never ate this kind of veggie plate in my life, if my stomach is really upset, I wait an hour, and the second it's better, I fill it with beef jerky.

I can see my brother is waiting for me to make a comment, complain. But when I don't, he just shrugs and starts eating, talking to her about something I don't listen to. I take a piece of avocado with my fork and when I look up to her, she's staring at me, her beautiful eyes searching my face.

"You can change your mind Deanie. I can still make bacon" she smiles.

"N-no really I'm okay" I state, eating a green thing without enthusiasm.

"Oh wow" Sam sneers. "Dean says no to bacon !"

I swallow the lump in my throat and feel my cheek redden despite my effort to be as stern as possible. I don't need his smart words, and I don't need to see them being so perfect with each other. Getting up, I put the fork down.

"You know Sam, I actually can say no from time to time."

Leaving the room, I rub my face.

Reader's Pov

I stay still, my eyes on the kitchen exit where Dean just disappeared. Something is wrong, really wrong.

I have seen Dean sad, grumpy and pushing people away, but this is new.

"I should go check on him after diner" Sam says. "He obviously have something on his mind."

"Yeah..."

My phone buzzes, it's him.

Hey Sweetheart, I'm sorry for leaving without eating what you prepared. Please tell Sam to not check on me. I'm going to bed, I'm just tired.

Dean is never "just tired".

Okay Deanie. Don't worry for the food. Please if you need something, remember I'm right here.

Dean didn't come out of his room at all.

I waited a little in the kitchen, finishing that stupid show I had started the day before, when he was out with yet another woman. I was hoping maybe he would show up to eat something, and then I could talk to him, but he didn't.

"Y/n" Sam's voice makes me jump slightly, frowning at the too bright light. "Did you fell asleep out of bed again ?"

I look around, my laptop battery died, I don't know how long ago and I have no idea of what time it is.

My friend lets out a deep sigh, offers me his hand and closes my laptop. I get up and follow him, a new ache in my back.

"What was it this time ?" he asks opening the door to my room. "And don't say it has nothing to do with him."

I frown, close the door and sigh letting myself fall sitting on my bed.

"He didn't eat" I mutter and Sam rolls his eyes. "What ? You admitted yourself that something is off."

"Can I sit ?" he asks, taking place beside me on the bed when I nod. "Your crush for my brother, it was cute at first..."

I can see him hesitate, and I know I won't like what he has to say.

"But ?"

"But this is getting unhealthy" he looks down. "You know I love my brother, b-but I think he's not a good thing for you in the end."

My eyes get wet but I keep listening silently.

"Dean is... We all are damaged. You can't stand seeing him angry or hurt but, you know, he is most of the time. Y/n you can't keep spending your nights on wooden chairs just in case he need a freaking sandwich. You're a hunter, a warrior !"

I want to protest, it's not that simple. But nothing come out of my mouth. When tears roll on my face, he opens his arms, welcoming me against him.

I can't love Dean less, he knows that. But for the first time, he's telling me that he disagrees ; and that changes everything. Sam was always the one kindly making fun of me or taking pictures discreetly for me to stare at on my phone at night. What if he decides he has to talk to Dean ? What if he gets tired of me, his best friend ? And what if he's right ?

"You have to talk to him" he states, making my fears cut my air supply for a moment.

"I-I can't" I sob, half panicking.

"You know he really loves you..."

I let go of his arms, not really wanting to hear more but he keeps holding me.

"What are you so afraid of ?" he sighs.

Dean's Pov

I'm hungry. My stomach is gurgling and I feel a little dizzy, I need to eat, it's not like I was going to be more like Sam by starving or skipping meals anyway. I will never be like him. More like Sam is not only a muscle thing, he's also taller, smarter, better...

Coming out of my room, I rub my face, thinking of her pretty face a little shocked when I left. I should apologize.

After a very quick shower, I put on my grey robe and slippers again, walking to her room slowly.

I rarely felt that weak, after my heart failure years ago, or after a big blood loss... But hunger like that, I didn't feel it since that week dad left and I lost the food money. I was ten or eleven... I remember feeding Sammy with stolen food, and eating only the leftovers, a piece of fruit, a crust of bread... Sam was starting to realize something was odd. I was so tired...

I am so tired.

I ate eggs at lunch the day I went out, then nothing on the evening. And yesterday... Nothing either. I haven't eaten for like forty hours, not even the crusts of Sam's sandwich or three gummy bears he forgot on the nightstand this time. And I'm starting to shake.

It's enough. I will apologize, make coffee and breakfast for both of us, and ask her to come to my room to continue our "What you haven't seen that ? It's a classic !" marathon movie.

Just when I'm about to knock at her door, it opens.

Sam.

My brother comes out of her room... in the morning ; his perfect pecks showing through his t-shirt and his arms covered of superman veins.

"Dean" he says, surprised.

Then he closes the door behind him, not letting me in, and I feel my blood go down on my feet, making me dizzy.

"Give her a minute" he states, and leaves.

I stay in front of the door, looking at it like I could see through it. A minute ? What, is she still naked ? Panting ? Dirty ?... I shake my head.

I can't.

I...

She's my Y/n, how can he touch her ? How can he ? I need her, I need her for me... I can't...

My breath is short and I try to fight the crushing wave of emotions almost making me fall on my knees. Sam is better, I'm a grunt, I'm damaged, dumb, unworthy... And I'm freaking fat !

The door opens and Y/n bumps on my chest jumps, very surprised to find me here.

"Dean ?" she give me a well faked smile but it fades the second her eyes meet mine. "Dean... Are you okay ?"

I nod but I know the devastating hurricane raging inside of me is showing. And I'm not sure to feel my heart anymore.

"Deanie, did something happen ?"

"N-no" I state.

"Let's get breakfast" she frowns suspiciously. "I told Sammy that I wouldn't run this morning."

Why ? Are you tired ? Sore ? Did he hurt you ?

"I'm not hungry" I state.

The truth is I can't swallow anything right now.

"Not angry ?" she bites her lip. "What is it Dean ? Are you going on a hunger strike ?"

"No" I say and realize my tone is defensive.

She sighs and looks down, licking her lips, probably to taste my brother here...

"I'm worried" she whispers. "You didn't eat at all yesterday, and I know for a fact that you didn't get up for food."

"How can you be sure ?"

Her eyes are suddenly wet, and now I know what that fake smile was hiding : tears. It's enough to make me forget in a second about my own pain, about the crushing feeling on my heart.

"Because I slept in the kitchen again" she says a little coldly before walking pass me.

Reader's Pov

I have to hide my face. I can't deal with Dean telling me my love unhealthy too, or with his questions. And I can't cry before him, I wouldn't know how to explain it.

I enter the kitchen and take eggs and bacon from the fridge. Hungry or not, he will eat a little, he needs it.

Not hungry... Is he sick ?

"Y/n..." he sighs behind me, but I don't answer, breaking the delicate eggshells against the pan edge. "Why did you sleep there ?"

"I don't know" I just say. "Why aren't you eating ?"

"I eat, Y/n."

"Not lately, no. S-so now I make you a real breakfast, like you like it, with meat and fat."

"Maybe I should stop eating that..." he mumbles for himself, but I hear him and turn around.

"What ?"

His whole body language changed. He doesn't stand with that confidence and dominance he usually has. He's hurt, hurt bad. He looks tired and pale, but not only...

"What is going on between Sam and you ?" he asks, low.

"Sam ?"

I slightly shake my head in confusion.

I don't understand his question, I don't understand the pain on his face. Something happened when he went out, did someone hurt him ?

Suddenly, a smell of burn come to my nose : the eggs ! I turn and try to save them but Dean's strong wrist grabs mine, making me turn to him.

"Answer please."

His voice is more somber than angry, but his gesture is firm and he's shaking. I can see the fire raging inside of him.

"What do you mean going on ? Dean... The food" I try to turn.

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT FOOD !" he suddenly yells, my heart racing and eyes wetting instantly. "I HAD ENOUGH FOOD FOR AN ENTIRE LIFE !"

His vise fingers suddenly lets go of my wrist and he takes a step back, fear on his features, like he was afraid of his own emotions. Dean is an impressive and dangerous man, but I will never be scared of him.

I wipe the tears that escaped my eyes and, on the surface calmly, turn off the fire under the burned eggs. Then I get closer to him and take his hand, way softer than he took mine a second before, under the slightly too long sleeves of his adorable robe. I decided I would be a better friend, it's my chance to be.

"If you precise your question, Deanie, I will answer. I just don't really get it" my eyes are on him, kind but firm, like I was taming a wolf.

"I..."

He doesn't manage to finish his sentence, the gearwheels of his mind visible behind his sparkling eyes. If I don't help him, he will run away, and burry it forever.

"What do you think is going on between Sam and me ?" I ask, noticing his lips are really white, even more than before. But I know he won't agree to eat right now, not until we fix what is bothering him. "Do you think, we're hiding something ?"

That would explain why he was staring at my phone yesterday. Sam and him have been deceived so often, lied to...

"Are you together ?" he cuts my thoughts. "Or is it just casual ?"

"What ? No !" I frown, letting go of his hand just a second. "Dean... Sam is my friend."

"He's perfect" he whispers.

You're perfect.

"He's amazing" I nod. "Sam is one of the best person I know..."

"He's handsome" he cuts me.

I search his face, and he nervously licks his lips. I take his hand again shyly, just the tip of his fingers. He will close again because he regrets those words. I have to answer quickly even if I'm really wondering what this is about.

"H-he is" I state. "Not really my type but he really is a beautiful man."

"You're always together... He... He slept in your bedroom" he says, taking back his hand. "You guys do what you want, but don't take me for a fool."

I take a deep breath, I won't get out of this without saying a little too much. I little of what I don't want to say. But Dean seems to need answers, and what Dean needs...

"He didn't sleep in my room, I told you I fell asleep in the kitchen. He found me, and bought me back there, tried to convince me to sleep but I was worried... and sad. Why those questions ?"

"Sad ?"

I don't want to answer now, so I continue.

"And... I spend a lot of time with him because he's my friend and..."

Being with you sometimes hurt.

He doesn't answer, and looks down at himself. Is he jealous that spend time with Sam ? We indeed used to be even closer, before my love for him started being out of control. Does he feel like that third friend the others forget a little for the fun things ?

"Dean, are you upset because I went running with Sam instead of watching movies with you yesterday ?" he looks away. "Does this have anything to do with the fact that you're not eating ?"

"I... I don't know" he sighs. "I'm a little dizzy."

"Sit Dean" I say, guiding him to the table. "Tell me what's going on with food. Please. You know I hate to see you bad."

He rubs his face with both hands, his scruff audible under his palm. How I wish I could kiss this jaw, how I wish I could show him how much I love him, how I know who he is, not like those girls.

"It's ridiculous..." he tries, but I sit facing him, and wait for him to talk. "I'm not... like Sam."

"Like Sam ?"

"You know... Abs and..." he motions his body. "All."

"Wait" I blink a few times. "Dean you're perfect."

He scoffs so bend a little to make him look at me.

How can he compare himself to his brother ? Where do that come from ? I know Dean struggles with serious self-hate, but would never have guessed it would reach that subject, of physical appearance... Maybe this is about a woman.

"Dean. You're the most beautiful man I have ever seen." My mouth starts freeing itself from truth I kept locked, and I can't stop it. "I'm serious. Your face looks like some masterpiece with perfect proportion, y-your eyes are ridiculously green, your jaw could cut glass, your lips..." my eyes fall on them and my words get lost. "You're tall and broad..."

"You're making me blush Sweetheart" he says, he voices back to its usual low hoarse tone. "Still I... You know I'm... a kid when it comes to food, I never exercise..."

"Never exercise ?" I smile. "Three days ago you climbed inside a house then dug a six feet deep hole on the ground, and the day after you chased a monster, fought him, and carried his body to a place where you can burn it... I say you deserve a burger."

His face seems to light up a little, but his pretty pillow lips are still too white.

"But it's not working out, like Sammy."

"Dean... Your brother likes it, he need it to focus, to think" my smile grows and I speak lower, I know my admiration is showing, and it honestly feels liberating. "And he needs that to keep up with you."

"He doesn't" he almost chuckles, finally warming my heart.

"Well, you're the best. It's natural for you, but we have to work, especially me."

"You two are better than me" he states.

"We're not. And... Dean not eating isn't going to make you feel better about yourself. It's going to wear you out, make you weak..."

"I know" he sighs.

"Can I make you a breakfast ? The color of your lips makes me want to draw a salt circle."

He chuckles fully this times, wrinkles appearing on the corner of his eyes.

I gently pat his shoulder as I get up, still not believing Dean could have insecurities like those. I throw away the burnt cold eggs and make some new, with bacon.

"I hear comments sometimes you know..." he says like it was easier now I'm not looking at him. "The things you said, that my face is nice..."

"More than nice" I admit, turning a little to him, but not fully to keep watching the pan.

"It happened that girls expect more under my shirt" he looks down. "I know it's ridiculous... I just, I don't know, maybe I feel disappointing."

"It's not ridiculous" I state under my breath, grabbing a plate to finally give him food. " Here, eat this, all of it."

"Like with the whole FBI look or with my seductive smile" he stops and grunts. "I feel like a teen."

"Hey, nothing like that between us, you know that. I told you about very embarrassing stuff" I reassure him. "And, what you're saying is interesting, men endure the social standards too."

"I... I don't know I didn't age like a model, I'm... soft."

Model.

"You know..." I start.

I pour two coffees and take a chocolate bar for myself, watching him before I keep talking, to make sure he starts eating.

"Delicious" he states, putting big pieces in his mouth.

"One of the reason I work out with Sammy is... Precisely because I don't want to look ridiculous next to two total models."

"Now that's" he starts, opening his mouth too big at how hot it still is. "That's kinda ridiculous. You're the prettiest girl ever !"

"I'm not" I whisper, softly blowing on my coffee.

"What ? You are Y/n" I lift my eyes on him, his lips are still a little light but shining with grease.

"I'm not like the girl you go out with."

I don't dare looking up, but see he stopped moving. His robe is now totally opened, the belt got loose, and my eyes are lost in the black of his shirt.

"The girls I go out with" he repeats. "You're way better than those girls."

"Oh listen to you, that doesn't sound cliché at all" I say a little too coldly, a shocked expression appears on his face. "I... I'm sorry."

"You know... the girls I go out with, that doesn't really mean anything."

"I know" I cut him to make him understand I'm not asking him to justify himself.

But he keeps talking anyway.

"I have been with divorced single moms, witnesses... college girls" he says the last one with something bitter and I take this occasion to make it about him again, and not me.

"Two day ago" I ask, although it's the last thing I want to talk about. "It was a college girl, Deanie ? Did something happen ?"

"Yeah... no" he states, answering my two questions. "I just... I just realize it wasn't really what I wanted, not anymore. And that it didn't... didn't really make me feel good about myself."

"Too young for you ?" I try to joke, giving him a piece of my chocolate bar, feeding him like I always do, with everything I have in my hand.

"Kinda yeah" he answers seriously. "I don't know... She... I wasn't frat boy enough for her I guess."

"Yes, that's exactly the idea, that you're not that !"

"I didn't really, you know... enjoy it" he says and I fight the images coming in waves in my head. "I was too focused on trying to prove something" a dark chuckle escapes his lips. "I don't even know who I was trying to convince. And she... She didn't like the tattoo, the scars, the freckles..."

"Whoa whoa ! Who's that bitch ?" I lift my hands in the air, sincerely shocked, I never knew some women would be able to not appreciate Dean.

He smiles kindly but looks at the bottom of his coffee.

Silence. I wish I could make him see who he is, I wish I could speak more, ask questions, but just talking about that stupid college girl that had him, but on top of that made him feel bad about himself...

"You look sad again" he cuts my thoughts.

"Sad ?"

"Yeah, it happens often. You start thinking deeply and you get sad" he says. "Listen... You're the most amazing friend, and woman, there is..."

"But" I whisper, echoing the conversation with Sam in my head.

"There's no 'but'" he shakes his head. "I was just going to say that I want to be a better friend, and man, for you."

"You already are the best" I smile but he doesn't smile back at all, his green eyes searching mine.

"I'm not. I let you down several times. I get why you would rely on Sammy more. I left you at this bar after that hunt when that witness was hitting on me. And I cancelled movie night twice to go out, just to feel... I don't know desired, loved maybe ? I know how absurd it is" When I'm about to talk, he doesn't let me. "And I worry you... coming home drunk as fuck in the morning." He rolls his eyes a little. "And with Baby..."

"I'm not your mom, I have to stop being so protective, Sam is right..."

"Sam ?"

That's it, the moment I say so much I regret it my whole life. But I promised my best friend I wouldn't go on like this, that I would either talk to Dean, like he wants me to, or at list try to work on my feelings to move on. It's time to stop hiding everything from the man I love and make our friendship pure again.

"Sam says..." I clear my throat. "That... I have to care a little less about you, to care a little more about me" I don't dare looking up and let out a dark chuckle. "Won't be easy... I care a lot about you."

When he doesn't answer, I finally look up, fearing what I will see on his face. He's just staring at me with an expression I never really saw on his face. His gorgeous lips are pink again, and the scruff on his cheeks, a little darker than usual, highlights the radiant light of his big beautiful eyes.

He half gets up, bending on the table. And before I can realize what's happening, he puts his lips on mine in a soft, warm kiss.

My whole body responds to it. The thin hair on my arms stick up, my heart starts beating my chest and my thighs get moist with a thin layer of sweat.

I stay frozen for a second, looking at him in disbelief, playing the quick kiss again and again in my head as he sits back.

"I just..." he clears his throat and sigh, getting up. "I'm not Sammy."

Before he can leave, before this moment becomes a memory I will struggle to think as real, before I find myself in that hole of secrets again, I get up. But he's already walking to his room.

"Dean !" I run after him, meeting him at his bedroom door. "Dean. You're not Sammy. You're you, you're perfect in every ways."

My heart is pounding. Let's do this, he needs this. Dean needs to be loved and I didn't know he needed reassurance. No one can to this better than me, because I worship him. I always said I wanted to show Dean he can be happy, and loved without changing his life for good. This is my shot at it, I may not be enough, I may not be what he wants or needs, but at least I can share with him. My devotion, my love, my body, all he wants.

And If my heart breaks, let it be a happy sacrifice.

"Your freckles are like stars in a summer sky" he frowns when my fingers come up to graze his cheek. "I already liked freckles but yours... You make any other skin look plain and boring."

His face is so close, the delicious smell of his skin reaching me. His pupils are large, just circled with that green that could make me cry.

"Your lips..." I say a little lower, looking at them intensely.

From here, I can see the few freckles that made their way on them. Then I see his tongue, slowly wetting them before he bends again, catching my lips softly, his nose bumping mine when he opens his mouth to capture my upper lip, once, twice...

I open my mouth and wrap my arms around him, deepening the kiss with a shameless hunger, and all my love in it. Something blows up inside of me, something strong : need.

Dean's Pov

No drunk groans, and no shame anywhere. I kiss her like it was words, and take her inside my room.

"Your smell" she says and I feel emotions rush in every one of my veins, but it's not disturbing like it usually is. "I could bath in it, live it."

I bend to burry my face in her neck, inhaling deeply.

And I take my time, I have no reason to hurry, nowhere to go, no woman to come back to. She slips her fingers between the strands of my hair, letting me hold her close, drowning in her smell.

I want to cry, and I don't really know why. Probably because of how right this feels. Because of that relief : She not with my brother. She is not with Sam...

"Dean..." she whispers, her nails gently grazing my scalp. "Can I see you ?"

I put a kiss on her neck and murmur a tender 'yes' against it.

Her hands leave my hair to go down along my neck, sending shivers down my spine, and push my robe, making it fall like a cape at my feet. That’s how she makes me feel, like her hero.

Her chin goes up without me leaving her neck, and she gently rubs her cheek on my jaw. In a soft moan, I open my mouth to leave wet kisses on her skin.

Maybe she can be mine...

"Sometimes your voice makes me shiver" she whispers in my ear. "Just your voice... It's so deep."

Somehow her words send electricity to my crotch and I can feel my boxers getting tighter.

My hands grab her ass, pressing her against me and when she moans, I feel my cock twitch.

"Y/n..."

"You're beautiful in everything" she continues, her hands slipping under my shirt to stroke my back, her voice slightly weaken by arousal. "But when you wear henleys or just a t-shirt..." she kisses just below my ear. "I can get wet by just looking at you."

My cock twitches and I groan.

"Are you wet now, Baby ?"

She nods and I let go of her ass to cup her face, kissing her like I always dreamed of, deeply and hungrily, not caring of being in control of myself, not caring if I seem desperate.

She starts to walk, making me take a few steps back until my calf hit the edge of the bed and I sit on it. I tug at her shirt to make her straddle me, but she takes a second to take off her shorts, revealing her beautiful thighs, and her white panties.

When she finally straddles me, spreading her legs, I spot a wet stain on her panties and a low growl leaves my chest.

"Fuck... You are..." I say, my hand coming down to cup her sex through it, feeling the tip of my finger get wet.

Her body immediately contracts, and, with my middle finger pressed against her entrance, I can even feel her walls clench around nothing.

"How can you be so reactive" I groan.

"It's you..." she moans, rolling her hips just a little to feel my hands more. "Dean... No men can do this to me."

My other hand comes up to take that worn out black shirt she stole with impatience, because I notices she wasn't wearing a bra underneath.

"Oh baby..." I let out, bending to kiss her breasts, my other hand teasing her more.

I'm burning up, my back sweating, my cock painfully hard. I don't remember being that turned on in my life by so little. She hasn't even touched me yet.

Her head falls back and her nipples point at me, begging me to suck at them, so that's what I do. Mouth open, I take one in my mouth, along with the most of her soft breast I can.

"Ah..." she moans and squirms above me. "Dean !"

My cock twitches at just hearing my name like that, my real name on top of that.

I slip my hand in her panties, desperate to hear more, feel more. She's soaked, her thighs contracted and her hips rolling against my hand. She doesn't form words, but her body is begging for more.

So I slip a finger inside her and feel her squeeze him, hear her gasps. I can't wait to be inside of her but that's not my only purpose... Oh God when she will clench around me ! I’m panting now.

"Please Dean" she whines, one of her hand going behind her to find balance on my knee, her beautiful body arching back.

I give her what she needs, another finger, pumping slowly at first, then going a little stronger, and my thumb on her clit, gently circling. I look at her with my mouth open in awe, a devouring pleasure making me high.

"Fuck" I pant.

I should try to focus, make that coil inside me calm, make my heart slow. I don't want to be aroused like a teen, or I won't last at all... But I can't, and my free hand comes on my crotch to touch myself through my boxers a little, desperate for some friction.

"Dean ! Dean..." she cried out, now joining the movement of my fingers with her whole body. "I need..."

"Come for me" I order. "Show me how much you want me Baby, clench those fingers."

And just like that, she does.

Her whole body shakes and her thighs crush me, her walls trying to milk my finger for what they can't give her.

"DEAN DEAN DEAN !"

My cock twitches so hard it's painful, I bend on her chest to not see her face longer, and try to hold back as hard as I can.

"Baby... fuck..." I whine, my whole stomach contracting and my cock pulsating.

But when she grabs my head to hold it against her and start rolling her hips hard to prolong her powerful orgasm, I can't hold back...

In a very loud frustrated grunt I come in my pants, feeling my cum drip along my twitching cock.

Reader's Pov

My bliss makes me high, but my senses are at their full power, so I can feel what’s happening. I can feel Dean squirm beneath me and shake, I can feel his hand unable to move and hear his gasps.

He’s coming.

My walls clench even more at the thought and he whimpers against my breasts. So I hold him, I just hold him.

When I finally can have the control of my body again, I look down at him and he withdraws his fingers slowly.

“Y/n…” he whispers. “Fuck I…”

“Did you came ?” I ask with the largest smile I ever had on my face.

“I… yeah… I’m…”

He seems embarrassed.

“Dean, that’s the sexiest thing I have ever experienced” I assure him, bending to kiss his lips. “No one ever wanted me that bad.”

“I still want you” he states, his hands stroking my back and going down on my ass. “I… I think you’re all I want actually.”

My eyes get wet. In my head : every single moment in my life that made me fall in love with Dean, every day, every moment I craved for a touch, for his smell, every time he laughed and cried… Everything.

“Then you have me Dean, you can have me forever if that’s what you want.”

“Yes, I do” he says, taking off his shirt.

With a large smile I push him back on the bed, letting him drag both of us higher on it. I look down at him, and a tear falls on his chest. His hand comes up to wipe my cheek, we don’t need to talk for a moment.

My hands go down his sides, enjoying his firm chest and the soft line of his stomach, my thumbs massaging it a little on their way up, feeling the strong muscles underneath and the silky-smooth skin.

I bend to kiss his collarbones, and his tattoo, palms still roaming everywhere like I always dreamed of, like I will always dream of.

“This tattoo” I say, drawing its contour with my finger. “It’s so you, it has a story, and it protects you. I love it.”

“And I love you” he states without a hesitation, his chin almost on his neck to see me.

A tiny emotional sob escapes my lips, making him frown a little and wrap his strong arms around me.

“Hey baby…” he whispers. “Y/n…”

My hand goes down to push his underwear down, and my panties to the side. He searches my eyes while I do, and licks his lips in a moan when I grab his cock to guide it at my entrance.

“I love you” I say, slowly sinking down on him. “I love you, I love you…”

FEEDBACK IS WHAT MAKES ME WRITE

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cognitivefunk · 4 years ago

Text

So I wanted to try my hand at writing something a little darker than usual, exploring some more themes since I’m a fan of yandere and guro. PLEASE pay close attention to the warnings. I probably kept things relatively tame all things considered, but it is not a soft fluffy fic. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Title: Eyes in the Dark

Rating: Explicit, R18+, 18+ not safe for kids

POV: second person AMAB reader, yandere refers to reader as ‘boy’ several times but it’s more of a demeaning thing as reader is 18+

Pairing: Reader/OC Yandere named Adrian

Warnings: NONCON, needles, drugs, kidnapping, torture, stitches, description of wounds, pins and trauma, ball gag, abusive, BL, mild choking, yandere, obsessiveness, unhealthy dynamic, smut, anal penetration, blood, crying, sense of helplessness

Word Count: 9,210

Living in a small village near the forest, you lived a quiet life living off the land. You had your garden, a well for water, and you trapped animals for both fur and sustenance. You could have lived in the city, but in all honesty, it felt right to be so close to nature. After all, you were a solitary creature, preferring the sound of nature over the bustling chaos of city life.

You were quick on your feet, used to running the floor of the forest, collecting wood and food on your excursions. Some of the beasts of the land were violent predators, but you had managed to evade any real harm to date. That is, until tonight.

You had left a little earlier in the morning than your usual schedule. It was a little before 3 a.m. but you wanted to travel down to the ravine later in the day to go fishing and you needed to divide your time carefully if you wanted to get everything done. You slung your knapsack over your shoulder and set out to the forest, yawning to yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, a strange man had been watching you. You sometimes felt eyes on you, but over time you learned to brush off the feeling. As long as it didn’t approach you, you couldn’t be bothered to investigate further. There were a lot of creatures that lived in this forest so you figured it was just another one of the beasts of the land.

Setting your bag down on a tree stump, you walk forward to check on one of your traps, only to step on a piece of rope. Your reaction time was off as the rope tightened around you ankle, hoisting you up in the air. You felt the blood rush to your head, and you flailed your arms around, trying to grab onto a nearby branch. If you could get the dagger out of your waistband, you would be able to cut yourself loose.

As you reached for your tool, you didn’t hear the man approach you. He moved with unnerving silence. You felt a sudden throbbing in your head and shouted out in pain, the world swirling around in your vision before going dark. The last thing you remember seeing was the smile of an unknown man, teeth unusually sharp.

"Ah, good morning my little flower, it's about time you got up," said the man. He knelt down in front of you, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze by lifting your face with his fingers on your chin. "We're going to have a lot of fun together~"

He had a wild look in his eyes; you couldn’t see his pupils, masked by the darkness of his eyes. It was as though his entire iris was a dark hole, pulling you in. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to get a bearing of where you were. Your arms were tied behind you, holding you firmly to a metal support beam. You assumed you were in a basement of some sort. The concrete floor felt damp and cold.

You open your mouth to speak, but the sadist cuts you off. "Stop it! Stop it please!" he cries out again, gripping your cheeks in his hands as he laughs. The sound was chilling, filled with a type of excitement you couldn’t quite place, but you knew it wasn’t good news for your situation.

You shudder, your entire body shaking. There was a tension in the air that made you feel uneasy. "Who are you? Where am I?" you ask, shaking your head from side to side, the man’s hand falling away from your chin.

“Where am I? What do you want from me!?” he mocked you, using a falsetto voice, pretending to cry. It was a twisted display and you found yourself frowning at him. A dark chuckle filled the room as the man shakes his head again, rearing his arm back. You felt his palm make contact with your cheek with a great force, pulling you instantly into reality. You jerk away from the slap, your face radiating with pain as warmth spreads across your cheek.

You tremble, wringing your wrists back and forth, the rope tying them together chaffing the skin. You wonder how long you had been out for. Judging by the soreness of your shoulders, it was at least an hour.

The man brought his face closer to yours, and you could feel your noses brush against one another. His gaze was intense, searching for something in your eyes. He paused, grinning once again. You felt unnerved by his erratic behavior.

"What do you want from me? Money? I'm not much of a ransom," you quip, your voice taking on a defensive edge as the man eyes you. You examined your captor's face. He was undoubtedly handsome, but with an edge of madness to him. He had brown slicked back hair, messy but kept. His eyes held a cruelty to them, and you sank back against the metal pole behind you.

You furrowed your brows in confusion at his confession; the hair on the back of your neck was standing on end. Suddenly, you felt very foolish for ignoring all those times out in the forest you didn’t listen to your gut.

Adrian snarled, slamming his fist into your chest hard. You gasp, wheezing as the breath is knocked out of you. You wheeze, the air pushed from your lungs, replaced by a bruising sting that blossomed across your chest. Your head hung forward as he pulled his fist back, averting your eyes to the ground as you struggled to regain your breath.

He seemed to be thinking, and you felt his nose brush up against yours again. “Money? Oh no my little flower, I don’t want your things. I want you.” He let out a shuddering breath; reaching the hand he was going to hit you with to stroke the side of your face gently. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this…”

The man pulled back just enough to poke his finger against your chest, as if to mock the fact that you were able to defend yourself. You squirmed against his touch, but you had nowhere to retreat to. You pushed your legs against the floor, arching as far back into the metal post as you could. “Who are you!? What do you want?” you pried, trying to get a grasp of your current situation. You felt like a record on repeat, but honestly the panic setting into your mind was scrambling your thoughts.

"I want you to scream," he says simply, as if this was all there was to life.

"What?" you ask. Your heart was racing and you felt another tremor work its way through you.

Adrian pauses, "I want you to scream for me... like a little bitch." He paused, taking the time to pet the hair on the side of your head soothingly. “I want to hear all the sounds you can make. All the pretty little expressions you can give me…”

The words you were thinking of saying next died in your throat before they could even be uttered. This man was crazy. He was going to hurt you, and you had no escape. You shivered, nervously chewing on your lower lip.

"After all this time…now that you’re finally here in my grasp, I want to hurt you, and humiliate you.” He continued petting your hair, tucking a lock of it behind your ear, revealing more of your face to him. “And you’ll be so good for me, won’t you? If not... well, I won't mince words. I will kill you."

You swallow thickly at his threat, taking him at his word. He went through all the trouble to capture you and tie you up in his basement, you were sure he would kill you without a second thought if you did something he didn't like. You would just have to get through this, you told yourself, trying to mentally prepare yourself for what happened next.

He nestled his nose into your hair, breathing deeply and letting out a low groan. “Aaah, my little flower, I want to bury myself in you so bad. Do you think you can take it?” Your mouth felt dry and you tried to swallow again, shakily replying, “I don’t….”

“Shh,” he placed a finger over your lips, stroking his finger along your mouth and tracing the line of your upper lip, smiling as you halted your protest. “That’s a good boy…”

A high pitched whimper emitted in the back of your throat as his threat became...sexual. You were scared; your heart was racing like it was going to jump out of your chest. He couldn’t be serious. Your eyes flickered back to his, and you could see desire pooling in his dark gaze. He was serious.

“Surely you want it too? You’re not a virgin are you?” he spoke low, clearly hoping for the latter to be true. You looked down at the ground, not wanting to meet his eye as you spoke. "No, I’m not," you admitted. Time had passed since then, but you had lain with a man before in your life. You weren't sure you liked the idea of it being with a complete stranger, however, let alone one who was holding you captive in his basement.

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, displeased at this revelation but he seemed to accept the fact. “No matter, once I take you for myself you won’t be able to think about anyone else,” as he spoke, a grin split open on his face and he leaned back in to nuzzle against your soft hair. “That’s right…I’ll take you over, and over again. You’ll be begging me before long…”

He seemed to be talking more to himself than to you. You could feel your face turn red at his sickly perverted ramble, "I don't want this…” you managed to murmur out. You could feel the blush blooming across your face and down your neck as he said those filthy words. It felt wrong. This was wrong. But your body betrayed the rational side of you, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before you would be fully erect.

A bemused chuckle reached your ears as the man pulled away from your hair, towering over you. "You don't have a choice," he spoke low, his voice husky with lust. “I’ve waited too long.”

This was it. He was going to hurt you. Or you were going to be fucked against your will. You screeched internally, realizing it was probably going to be a mixture of the two and you desperately wished you could wring your wrists out of the ropes.

As he stroked the side of your cheek, his hand felt colder than before. You shivered, your mind screaming at you to pull away from his touch, but if you played along he might not hurt you as bad. He could feel you trembling beneath his touch.

“Shhh, it’s ok, don’t be scared. I promise, you’ll enjoy this too. I’ll make sure of that,” he croons gently at you. It was a cruel mockery of kindness. His voice was rehearsed, but the gentleness didn’t reach his eyes.

"I don't...know you," you say quietly, tears starting to prick at the corners of your eyes as you look anywhere but his eyes. You couldn’t trust his saccharine voice, sweet as poison, and just as deadly. His eyes narrowed dangerously at your objection. He flicked his wrist, snapping your head back as his grip on your face tightened.

Your head was still sore from where he knocked you out earlier and you cried as your head smacked against the post. His lips twisted into a smirk and he let out a short bark of laughter, “Well then, how about we get to know each other a little.”

Your breath catches in your throat at the tone in his voice. You needed to soothe over the situation, quickly. "No! Ah, wait. That's not what I mean!" you smile nervously at the man, hoping to appease him. You flounder for your words and you swear you could see enjoyment in that infuriating smirk of his.

You try to scream but all that comes out is a pathetic snivel as your voice cracks under the emotion coursing through you. You were fighting against yourself not to cry. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. The feeling of fear crawled across your body, wrapping you in its embrace.

“Please…I want to go home,” your voice sounds defeated as it leaves you.

He stares at you coldly before speaking once more, “Don’t you want to please me?”

“Tell me then, what do you mean, my flower…” his pet name for you left you uncomfortable, but you weren’t exactly in a place where you could tell him off about it.

"I'll...play along...with you," you say, choosing your words carefully. You searched his face, watching for any change in his reaction. There was definitely enjoyment on his face as he heard you give into the situation.

What you were about to do was not going to be easy on you. It was paramount that you played into his little game. He seemed the type to peel off your skin slowly with his bare hands, and it made your stomach churn. You would need to give a good performance.

"So…what do you want me to do?" you ask, trying to sound coy. You were shifting your shoulders, the ropes around your wrists was cutting in, but you continued slowly twisting your hands back and forth, hoping to loosen the binds.

Adrian smiles, amusement clear in his eyes. "Oh? What’s this now, finally admitting your attraction to me? I’ll admit, I was anticipating it would take you longer to realize your feelings," he rambles on, a laugh escaping his lips.

"What do you mean?" you ask, your heart rate picking up pace again. You shifted awkwardly against the metal post, still unable to move from your spot. He stood up, walking over to the counter on the back wall of the basement to pick something up. You strained to see what he was holding, only to shrink back against the post as you noticed he was walking back toward you with a knife.

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath.

You were terrified of this man.

“Hmmm, I’ll tell you what,” he says, trailing off as his foot touches yours, nudging it a little with the tip of his shoe.

"You’ll be a good little pet for me, hm? I'll make sure you feel nice and special," as he speaks, his voice takes on a darker edge. He kicks your foot to the side, opening your legs as he kneels between your knees. He grins as he takes the knife and cuts away at your pants, leaving your bottom half bare to the cold air of the basement. You were frozen in place, just trying to focus on your breathing as he continued to rip your clothing away from you.

You keep telling yourself to stay calm. He'll realize he's gone too far, stop everything. But he just keeps going, grinning as he rips your underwear away from you as well.

You try to hide yourself from him by pulling your knees closer together, but he grabbed at your legs, pushing them apart. You were completely at his mercy, half aroused from the fear of the situation. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" he says, voice filled with glee as he licks his lips. “See? I knew you were special…”

You see red. You want nothing more than to reach up, grab that disgusting man by the throat and squeeze until his eyes bulge from his head. You feel pathetic in how utterly helpless you were. If he hadn’t gotten the upper hand on you out in the woods, you would have had a chance to fight back. You wanted more than anything to be able to fight back.

You didn't dare do anything reckless when he had the knife so close to your most sensitive area. He trailed the cold tip of the knife up your thigh, pressing in just enough to leave a light trail of blood. It didn't hurt at first, as the knife kissed your skin, but as the blood came bubbling slowly to the surface you felt the sting of the cut.

He took his time working his way up your legs, taking his time with each cut. By the time he reached your groin, you held your breath in your throat, nervously flicking your eyes back and forth from the knife to his face and back again.

As he pressed the knife shallowly above your groin you moan out involuntarily, catching his attention. His eyes lock onto yours and a flush seems to creep over his cheeks, and he licks his lips slowly, clearly pleased.

“My my, so sensitive,” he breathed, fanning his face dramatically. He seemed to be a rather theatrical man. His voice dipped low again, taking on a sultry tone. “Look at you, getting hard from me cutting you. Tell me, were you always such a filthy pervert or are you just like this for me?”

Changing pace, he pulls back to hit you across the face with the flat of the knife, relishing your delicious reaction.

You cry out pitifully as the knife grazes your cheek from the impact of the blow. A fine line of blood drips down your chin, pooling along your jawline. You frown, your lower lip quivering as curse out, “Fuck…”

His eyes light up, “Aah, you’re so dirty. I knew you’d be perfect~” He was overcome with a giddy, twisted glee as he stood up, excitedly shuffling off to the other side of the basement.

You relax against the post, slumping your head against it to rest as you watched him retreat. You groaned quietly, still working at the ropes around your wrists, trying to get them to loosen. The rope was burning against your skin, and you knew without needing to see them that they were raw and red.

He turned around, pausing his ministrations for a while, just staring at you. He quietly turned away, shuffling bottles and a large toolbox around. The silence was all the encouragement you needed, and you started working feverishly at the knots, exhaustion taking over as your fingers finally work through the knots.

He seemed to be in thought; he paced around the basement, and you were worried he could see what you were up to. You take your chances regardless, freeing your hands from the rope and finally bringing them to your chest, your arms stiff from being held in the same position for hours.

You risk another glance at your captor, who is still pacing. You notice he has something in his hands that you hadn’t seen a moment ago. He was holding a long metal baton with spikes adorning the sides all the way to its pointed tip. You barely had time to register it before you were suddenly greeted with a sharp pain in both of your feet.

He had swung it against the bottom of your bare feet, making you cry out in agony, toes curling inward which only served to aggravate your weeping injury further. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Did that hurt?" he cooed, his voice mockingly sweet as he reeled back, slamming the baton against the heels of your feet this time. You saw white flashes in your vision as the pain exploded in your feet, leaving you incapable of running.

You screamed out, reaching instinctively to hold your legs, choking on a sob as the pain seared up your calves. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice you untying your ropes?" he breathed, dropping the bloodied weapon on the floor behind him with a metallic clink. He knelt between your knees once again, cupping your face in his hands. "You better not be trying to escape, my little flower,” he breathed against your cheek.

“What a naughty little thing, you just can’t help it can you?” he nods to himself, talking more at you than to you. "It’s alright, shh, it’s ok. It’s my fault, I haven’t broken you in yet, it’s ok…" He slipped his arms under yours and laid your arms around his shoulders, holding you tightly against his chest as he rocked you back and forth.

Tears welled in your eyes, and you were unable to stop them from streaming down your cheeks as he rocked you back and forth as though consoling a small child. He continued shushing you, petting your hair soothingly. "Naughty pets get punishment, but that's ok. You're learning...you're still learning," he mused, his voice taking on a sinister tone as he pulled back to wipe at your tears with his thumbs.

"I'll make sure you have so much fun here, you'll forget all your...trivial thoughts of wanting to run away,” he wiped away your tears, smearing some of the blood that was left behind from the earlier cut on your face.

‘Stop touching me with those horrible hands,' you thought to yourself, clenching your teeth together and breathing shakily. You could feel the blood tickling the bottoms of your soles, but the skin and muscle felt so raw you didn't find enjoyment in the sensation. You didn't have time to dwell on it long before he was pulling you to your feet, forcing you to stand.

You cried out loudly, desperately trying to shift the weight off of your feet as he led you over to a cart filled with instruments of torture. He half drug your body to a table, and when you weren’t able to take a further step forward, he fastened his hands under your arms to lift you onto the table. It made you feel like you weighed nothing to him.

You were forced into an awkward sitting position, your arms stretched out in front of you as he chained them to the metal handles at the end.

"Now, you won't be getting out of these as easily," he said cheerfully, patting the metal rings he fastened around your wrists, admiring his handiwork. The clasps were fastened to the ceiling, held together with long chains. You could swing your arms a little, but the range of motion was restricted. Your wrists were still raw with the rope burn from before, the cool metal biting against your flesh.

While you were adjusting to your new position, he turned around to grab a few more of his toys. In one hand was a shorter chain, and in the other was a ball gag. He gave you another cheery smile, holding them up proudly.

Your eyes widen as you notice the ball gag in his hands and he gives you a friendly smile, "Shhh, don’t be scared." He pressed the gag against your lips, holding the back of your head, the chain still wrapped in his other hand. "Open up for me, hm?" He tugged on a fistful of your hair, causing you to gasp. He used the opportunity to press the gag into your mouth, carefully fastening it around your head. "That's better," he mused, wrapping the shorter chain around your throat like a makeshift collar and leash.

You could barely move as he wrapped the chain around your neck, his hand on the other side of your head holding the chain tight against his body. He smiled fondly at you, giving it an experimental tug just to listen to your panicked whine. “Aah, beautiful…” he murmured.

You choked on a sob, blinking away several tears that had begun to form again. You didn't want to be congested with your mouth in such an awkward position, forced open to accommodate the ball. You were thankful for the holes in the sides, likely to assist in breathing, but you knew that before long you would end up drooling and it was demeaning.

He let the chain go for now, letting it dangle around your chest. You had been completely stripped by the blade of his knife earlier, and you felt extremely vulnerable in your current position. You could only watch as he mulled over which of his 'toys' to use first.

Adrian rubbed your shoulder, "Good, very good. You’re doing so well," he turned to pick up two needles, one long and one much shorter. “I know you’re scared little one.” You couldn’t help but whine in the back of your throat again. What was he going to inject you with?

"But that's ok~ I'll make sure you feel really good," he chuckled to himself approaching the table once again. He set the shorter needle down momentarily, inspecting the red tinted liquid in the longer syringe, giving the tip of the needle a little flick as he pushed some of the liquid through, checking for air. "Perfect," he pulls out a small alcohol wipe, ripping the package open with his teeth and running the cool pad over your shoulder. "Take a deep breath for me, ok?" he coos, pressing the needle into your arm, slowly injecting the foreign liquid into you.

You slowly nod, taking in a shaky breath. Once finished, he dabs the little puncture would left behind again with the wipe, moving to the other side of the table with the smaller needle in hand. He repeats the process of wiping down a small patch on your neck before pressing carefully into the crook of your neck. It pinched going in but soon your head felt muddy as the pain in your feet and limbs subsided.

You let out a soft moan, somewhat out of surprise, as the pain was wicked away. He had injected you with a pain reliever, which you were immediately grateful for. But the other injection was also starting to take effect… You felt your skin felt flushed from head to toe. Your breath was increasing in frequency and it felt like the medicine was seeping into every pore.

"Isn’t that better?" he spoke, smiling at you. That damned, incessant smile. He began slowly kissing his way up your stomach, pausing at your chest to swirl his tongue around your now aching nipples.

A lascivious moan escapes your throat, muffled by the gag in your mouth. It startles you, and you feel a pool of heat gathering in your lower half. Your vision is hazy, and your thoughts are jumbled. It feels like your head is underwater. Another moan bubbles in your throat as Adrian bites harshly on a pert nipple, causing you to arch into him.

"Does that feel good?" he asks sweetly, twisting the sensitive nub.

You shiver, nodding your head weakly, earning another chuckle from the man. He plays with the chain dangling from your neck, giving it a little tug just to jolt you.

"Isn't it better when you just play along?" He smiles, giving another gentle tug on the chain. You can’t seem to answer him, your body was aching sweetly, and you swayed a little on the table, the chains rattling at your movement.

He shifts his weight off the table momentarily to put the emptied syringes back into his toolbox. He would worry about cleaning them later. For now, he was going to have fun with his new pet.

"Tell me, have you ever tasted your own blood?"

Your eyes widen in terror as your mind scrambles to come up with an answer. You go to respond, momentarily forgetting the gag in your mouth. You make a muffled sound before shaking your from side to side, eyeing him suspiciously. He hums to himself, picking a small, decorative knife from the toolbox, inspecting it for sharpness before turning to face you completely. "Oh that's a shame," his voice has a mocking sense of pity in it as he approaches you with a glint in his eye. "Let's change that shall we?"

A distressed whimper hangs in the back of your throat and you tug at the chains around your wrist. You still your movements when you notice the frown curving on his lips. His eyes were narrow as he pressed the knife up against your collarbone, letting the blade kiss your skin lightly, a thin trail of blood dripping down in a single line down your chest. He admired it for a moment before flipping it in his hand and driving the blade down into your thigh.

A startled yelp escapes your lips as you tears rapidly fall down your cheeks. You press your tongue hard against the gag to prevent yourself from screaming, trying to bite against the slippery surface. The pain was dulled from the earlier injection, but you were still able to feel the subdued ache that it left behind. He twisted the knife harshly to the side, opening a gash in your soft thigh and you wince, crying out as you avert your eyes away from the damage.

Unfortunately for you, the aphrodisiac in your system was tricking your mind into reacting to the pain by sending jolts of pleasure through your system. It made you want to feel sick, sending a violent shudder up your spine.

He begins to trace a finger along your oozing wound, painting his finger a deep shade of crimson. He hums to himself again, grin widening as a ghastly idea inspires him into action. He grabs a straight pin from the table, leaning in to press it into your throbbing flesh.

He stood back for a moment, eyes trailing over the pin in your wound and he smiled thoughtfully, standing back to grab several more pins, effectively adorning them across your wound to hold it open. "Beautiful," he breathed, admiring the weeping, mutilated flesh. You breathed harshly, the sensations nearly overwhelming your senses. You didn't want to look at it; it made your stomach drop.

He leans over the table in front of you, lifting your chin up with a rough hand.

Adrian then presses his index finger directly into the gaping wound, coating his finger in your warm, sticky blood. Your face twists in agony as he penetrates your thigh. You could see him shiver, and a twisted smile graced his handsome features. You wished the circumstances were different, then you might truly be able to appreciate the man's face. But right now your emotions felt mixed, and your pulse pounded in your temples. You just wanted him to stop.

He twirls his finger in the air, drawing out the moment before he brings it down to one of the holes in the ball gag, letting it drip inside. You were frozen, fixated on his hand as your own blood dripped down, onto your tongue. You had no choice but to taste the metallic, copper tang that coated your tongue. It made you dizzy, but you moaned out reflexively.

"Savor," he whispers quietly, watching your reaction carefully. You can tell he's enjoying this.

You let your eyes flutter shut, focusing on the strange taste in your mouth. There was a vague sweetness to it that you assumed was the result of whatever he injected you with. You swayed a little, your body feeling slow as another wave of warmth spread across you.

You were about to lose consciousness. He knew it.

"Aah, I can hardly take it. You’re so beautiful,” he gushed, admiring your body as you struggled against your consciousness. “I'm going to enjoy this."

He traced a hand under your chin almost lovingly, reaching back to his toolbox. "As much as I love seeing you so...helpless...I can't have you falling asleep before the main event."

You kept your eyes closed, embracing the warmth of his hand as he caressed you. You leaned into him, and made a small noise of disappointment when he withdrew his touch. It wasn't until you felt another needle injecting into your skin that you blearily opened your eyes. A jolt of electricity coursed through your body, rousing your senses and you were suddenly wracked with shivers.

Your veins felt cold, but your skin burned hotter. He stood over you, studying you, watching as your body started to react to the pain that was surely throbbing from your torn up thigh. He took in a sharp breath, palming himself through his pants at the sight of you. A disheveled mess.

“Aaahn, I made a miscalculation in the sedative but I made it all better,” he shuddered, working himself up. You could see his impressive erection straining against his pants as he palmed himself.

"Let's start again," he finally said. You heard the buckle of his pants come undone, and for the life of you, you wished the sound of it hadn't turned you on. You felt disgusting. You whined, twisting your hips as you continued to arch and writhe in place.

You cried out, arching with nowhere to go. Your arms pulled against the chains that held you in place and you writhed in your seat on the table. The pain started to mix into a complicated sensation, causing you to pant out harshly, the ball gag impeding your ability to really do much else.

He stood over you, watching.

"Do you have any idea how arousing it is to watch you fight against it?" his voice was thick with desire, and it made your stomach clench. You locked eyes with his, unable to stop your body from trembling at the sight of him. You could only watch as he disrobed, exposing his muscular body to you.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” he exhaled slowly, swooning. You shook your head, unable to speak through the gag. He crawled forward, hands running along the top of your thighs.

"Give in," he spoke low, his left hand ghosting over the trauma he inflicted on your thigh. You couldn’t help but react to his touch. He let his hands trail higher, touching everywhere but your now fully erect cock. A bead of precum dripped from the tip of your penis, which strained against your abdomen painfully.

He leaned forward and lapped it up with his tongue, his eye contact intense as he pressed his tongue flat against the tip, and you saw stars. You moaned loudly, every fiber of your being lighting up. He didn't give you much relief, however, moving instead to lick across your stomach, all the way up to your chest where he teased your nipples. A sharp pain shot through you, and you whined into your gag, moving your hips in tiny little circles.

You shook, rutting your hips frantically as he bit into your nipple once again, causing your hips to jerk forward. You desperately wanted more, the danger of the situation currently being outweighed by your near violent arousal.

He traced his fingers along your thigh once more, but stopped. You whined into the gag, desperate for him to continue.

"You poor thing, do you want to touch yourself?" he asked, his eyes flickering over you.

Your eyes trailed to the chains that held your wrists in place and you looked back to him cautiously at first but soon you found yourself nodding enthusiastically, offering eager, yet muffled begs behind your ball gag for him to release your arms.

He didn't move to release you, instead moving one of his hands to your chest, pushing on your shoulders as he moved you up the table, angling your body to an almost perfect position.

"Mmph!" you cried out.

Your arms were placed in a rather precarious position, straining against your shoulders as the binds forced your hands forward. He had pulled your lower half down so you were no longer sitting upright, but rather, leaned against the top half of the table. Your legs were pushed to the sides, causing your mangled feet to dangle off either edge of the table.

“Perhaps another time… I’d love to watch you pleasure yourself to the thought of me,” he chuckled, positioning your body to suit his needs. You were stretched out, open, ready for him to do whatever he wanted with you.

He trailed his hand up your chest to press into your neck, holding down for a few pauses before letting go, watching you struggle for breath. Laughing quietly to himself, he yanked the chain around your neck, tightening the hold he had on you.

Groaning, you gasp for breath as he releases his hold on your neck only to let out a startled, yet muffled shout when he yanked the chain, pulling you off the table by roughly an inch before dropping you back onto it. Due to your constant attempts at communication, you can feel the saliva collecting in your mouth, noticing it had already started to drool down your chin.

Adrian released the chain and you coughed and sputtered, trying to catch your breath.

"Mphmm," you try to reason with him, steadying your quickened breaths. The man reaches over to the cart next to his toolbox, and picks up a bottle off the cart. You watch as he squirts the thick, gooey substance out onto his fingers. "I like it to feel good for me too," he states matter-of-factly. "Blood doesn't make the best lubricant." His words were cryptic, as though he had a lot of experience in that field.

Pulling your legs away, he nestles in front of you, spreading them slightly as he kneels down. You keen loudly, rutting your hips against the air, digging your back against the table. He pressed a hand against your hip, pressing you back down. "Don’t worry; I'm going to give you something that's going to make you feel really good."

And with that, he presses the first lubed finger against your puckered hole. The lubricant is cold, but it feels nice against your feverish skin. You moan out, long and drawn out as he dips the finger in to the knuckle, slowly fingering it inside of you.

He's stretching you, and in this moment you had never felt anything so intense. The aphrodisiac and adrenaline coursing through your body left you a whimpering jittery mess.

He adds a second finger, scissoring them to allow for easier access as he stretches you open.

You can't help but rut against his fingers, and it seems to please him greatly. "You're being such a good little pet right now, that's right. Fuck yourself on my fingers," he encourages you, watching as you hopelessly try to get off on his fingers, twisting and stretching inside you. He lifted his hand off of your hip, allowing you to have more movement.

You raise your hips as he continues to scissor his fingers, having just added a third to the mix, trying to get as much pleasure out of the feeling as you can.

You mewl a high pitched whine as he curves his fingers, striking that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. You practically thrash against his hand, trying to replicate the sensation erratically.

"Yes, that's it," he whispers, "I'm going to make you feel so good. You want that don't you? You want me to make you come hard and fast, don't you?" his words picked up with excitement, and he laughed manically, watching you chase your pleasure on his fingers.

"MMPH!" you cry out with fervor, rocking back and forth against his digits, your legs still dangling over the edge of the table. Your arms strained aggressively against the chains but you didn't care. You couldn't care. You couldn't think about anything else other than the pleasure that was building in your core. That is, until he withdrew his hand.

The sudden absence of it makes you moan in opposition, broken into sudden sobs at the sudden feeling of abrupt emptiness.

"Shh, shh, it's ok. I'll fill you up, don't you worry," he consoles you with his deep, low voice. You lull your head to the side, another shiver trailing its way to the base of your spine as he licks his lips slowly, lining himself up against your opening.

He pushes himself forward, sliding into you in one hard thrust. He's so... big. So much bigger than any other person you've fit inside yourself.

The loudest moan yet erupted from your throat, and you drooled down the sides and holes of your gag. You were thankful he took the time to stretch you out, knowing that he would have split you open if he tried to thrust in like that unprepared. You found yourself weeping, overwhelmed with emotion as he pulled back and began thrusting in earnest.

"Ah... fuck, yes..." he pants, and with one hand he roughly grabs your hair, holding you in place as he thrusts into you.

The dull pain from the rough grip he had on your hair only fueled the fire in your gut. The pain medicine had dissipated almost entirely, but you were in such a high state of arousal that you didn't mind. The only thing you cared about was chasing your release, your body felt like you were treading through fire and water at the same time. Your cock ached against your belly; pushed up against you at the angle Adrian was fucking you into the table.

His thrusts became faster. More erratic. You could make out the grunts of effort as he needed to put all his strength into each thrust. He growls, long and low.

Your eyes crossed at the sound of his growl. It was so primal, and awakened a very submissive urge in you. You mewled and arched your back, slightly, still being held in place by the hand on your hair. You just wanted to increase the friction on your weeping, neglected cock.

You made a pitiful noise in the back of your throat as you breathed heavily. He growled again, “Come for me, you can do it. Come on nothing but my cock, I can see it written all over your face.” He picked up his pace, ramming into you with ruthless abandon.

“You’re my filthy little cumslut aren’t you? Aah, that’s right, come on my cock for me,” he continued to encourage you with dirty talk. You arched off the table, straining firmly against the chains around your wrists. He gripped at your hips, digging his nails firmly into your skin as he angled his thrusts against your prostate, earning a loud howl from you. With each thrust he hit that sweet spot and you felt the build of your orgasm pool deep within you. It wasn't long before you were sobbing again, your orgasm sweeping over you with white hot emotion.

Your body shook as he continued to grip you tightly. You felt the warm splash of your cum hit your stomach, painting you in your own seed. He growled, his eyes completely clouding over at the sight, and with one last, powerful thrust he came into you.

Tears stained your face, your hair was tousled from his rough grip, you were an absolute trainwreck but you were beyond feeling self-conscious about it. You felt his seed empty inside of you, filling you with a warm sensation. You moaned quietly, rolling your hips against his cock as he held the base of his shaft, milking every last drop of his cum inside your hole.

The pair of you panted, both of you staring at each other as you came down from your high.

You had nearly lost your voice; it came out as a hoarse, broken sound as you tried to say something against the ball gag in your mouth. You were covered in your own saliva, cum, tears, and blood. Adrian looked at you reverently, clearly admiring the state he had put you in.

He slowly pulled out of you, a soft groan escaping your lips. You panted, feeling a sense of exhilaration as his cum gushed out. It was still warm as it tickled down your skin, an altogether pleasant sensation.

"You like that? Hm?”

You shivered weakly, slumping against the table the best you could with the binds still holding your arms forward. It had taken a lot out of you.

"You’re so perfect…" he whispered quietly to himself, reaching toward you to release the ball gag, and a flood of air rushed into your mouth. You coughed, hacking up a wad of saliva and blood, but felt so much better for it.

You flushed, embarrassed that you had made a mess. Worried it might set him off again. You watched for any sign of contempt but didn't notice any outright.

He wiped his hand down your face and neck, gently cleaning you off, before releasing you from the chains holding you in place. You fell to the ground with a thud, a weak cry murmuring in your throat as your face pressed against the cool concrete.

You groan on the floor, attempting to use your raspy voice, "Please..help..." you manage to whisper out, reaching for the man.

He smiles, a bright, toothy grin that makes you shiver, "I'm sorry about that. Wasn't watching where I was pulling, won't you forgive me?" he asks in an almost playful tone, leaning down to pick you up. He glanced at the mess on the table and seemed to mull something over, but he decided to set you back down on the dirtied table at least temporarily.

You struggle to stay upright, your body suddenly very exhausted, either from the intensity of your previous session or from the adrenaline that had been injected into your body previously. Your limbs felt like lead and your body was crying out in pain. The pins in your thigh had pressed in further when you fell and your leg was oozing blood.

He stepped back, a cruel grin spreading across his face, "Please forgive me," he said again.

You give him a pathetic look, all the fight having been sapped out of your maimed body. "Ok..." you say quietly, rubbing at your thigh to try to ease some of the pain.

You chew on your lower lip, an anxious habit, as you worked up the courage to ask him to do something for you. "Could...could you please take out these pins, sir?" your voice was raw, but audible.

He tilted his head, "The ones in your leg?" he asked in mock surprise.

"Yes...my leg...I..."

He grasped your thigh in his hand, tightening his grip as he played with one of the pins, wiggling it back and forth with his eyes fixated on your reaction. You let out a small moan, your body still sending mixed signals from your previous arousal. His eyes flicked up to meet with yours and he raised an eyebrow, "This one?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"Please..." you whimpered.

"Well, I suppose I could get that closed up for you. Wouldn't want you to bleed out on me now would I?" he flashed another grin, and walked over to the counter, fetching what appeared to be a first aid kit before returning to his previous position.

He opened it and bent down to you, "We're going to have to do this the old fashioned way then. Hold still."

You opened your mouth to question him but were immediately cut off with a yelp as he began to pry the needles out of your leg. He counted them, and then counted them again just to be sure before taking out a small bottle of antiseptic and pouring it directly onto the wound. You let out a piercing scream, nearly losing the rest of your voice in the process.

His hands were warm as they pressed on your leg, trying to clean the wound as effectively as he could. "It'll be fine, I promise," he whispered in your ear as he cleaned the wounds, "Just relax."

He hummed to himself as he pulled out a suture kit. Pouring some of the antiseptic out onto his hands, he rubs them together before gathering his tools. He threaded the hook carefully, pulling an edge of the wound and angling the hooked needle at a 90 degree angle before piercing the skin deeply, careful not to pull up as he threaded it through to the other side, tying the edges together to hold the middle of your wound closed. You whimpered quietly as he worked, not able to look down as the needle and medical thread were threaded through your flesh.

There was a slight pain as the stitches were tied off, and you snuck a quick peak, only to look down to see blood dripping down your shin, staining your knee down to your ankle red. Another whimper escaped your lips and you buried your face in your hands, rubbing your face gently as you tried to distract yourself from the stitches the man was giving you.

"Thank you," you said quietly, not moving the hands from in front of your eyes. You could not watch it any longer.

"You're most welcome," though you couldn't see it, his smile deepened into a something more genuine as he continued his work.

When it seemed he was finished with the sutures on your leg, you cracked a finger open to look down, amazed that the stitches looked so...professional.

You looked up at him again, and found him staring intently down at his work. He looked back up at you, a little surprise on his face as he saw your hands had finally moved from covering up your pretty face.

He trailed his hands down your calves, lifting your legs up to examine the trauma he had inflicted to the bottoms of your feet earlier. "Hmmm, looks like you won't be running off any time soon. How about I run us a nice hot bath and we can wrap these up, hm?" He released your leg, letting it dangle back off the side of the table before standing up. You nodded nervously, watching him as he moved through the dimly lit room to the corner of the room.

You could hear clanking noises as he seemed to be putting things into a sink. Your suspicions were confirmed when you heard the tap water running, the sound was almost soothing in how normal it was. Once satisfied, he returned to scoop you up in his arms, leading you toward the stairs that led to the main part of his house. You held on tightly, afraid he might drop you at any minute.

He sat you on a metal rack in the bathroom, as hot water trickled down from a faucet into a bathtub.

You watched intently as he added soap and some sort of scented pebbles into the water, intrigued when they dissolved into the hot water. While the water ran, he made sure to get some towels and gauze ready, laying out a fresh bathmat next to the tub before finally shutting the water back off.

"Let's get you into that bath now, my little flower," he crooned.

He eased you into the bathwater, climbing in right behind you, letting you lay against his chest as he bathed every inch of you. He tickled the backs of your ears, relishing when you tried to move away from his touch.

He obviously wasn't annoyed at you for this outburst though, and instead decided to startle you by biting your shoulder.

"OW!" you yelled, jumping in the water.

It sloshed around you, the water having turned a light pink shade from the blood. You heard a chuckle behind you before you felt his flattened tongue pressed against his little bite, soothing over the wound. You found yourself leaning into him once again.

"Do you like being scared? That's how you get my attention, little one. You need to work harder next time." His words held a cryptic tone once again. You couldn’t figure him out. His personality seemed all over the place and it left you on edge.

"Why me?" you ask, shifting a little as he reaches down, 'cleaning' you out by pressing his fingers back into your hole to coax out the rest of his cum. You let out a sling of delightful noises as he wriggled his finger in and out of your sensitive entrance.

He bit your shoulder once again, harder this time, and you yelped. He slowed his ministrations down to little nibbles, and by the time he was finished you had calmed down again.

"Mmm, as much as I would love to go a second round, I think we need to get you cleaned up," he sighed, opening the drain to the tub, startling you with the loud noise as the water flowed down the drain, he stood up, turning the water to the shower head on, detaching it so that he could finish washing the two of you.

Once you were both clean, he dried you off first, rubbing baby oil into your skin and scalp until your hair was slicked back.

It was strange, that he was almost...pampering you after what he did to you down in his basement. It made your stomach do a little flip as he treated you so gently. He took the time to wrap your feet in gauze, only occasionally squeezing a little too tight just to see your face twist in pain.

Once your preparations were done, he picked you up from the table and set you on your feet again.

You winced, immediately leaning forward to fall into his arms. You couldn't bear the weight on your feet, even with them wrapped in bandages. The pain was simply too intense. There was no way you were going to able to run like this. He smirked, leaving you to flounder for a few more moments before scooping you up into his arms.

You settled into his rhythm, as he walked from the kitchen and down the stairs, holding you tightly as you buried your head into his shoulder.

You were led to a bedroom, where he laid you out onto a lavish bed, all the while never averting his gaze from you. He watched as your eyes fluttered, feeling the comfortable bed behind you as you sank against the cushion. "Comfortable?" he asked.

"Mm," you answered, the exhaustion weighing down on you. He leans forward, placing a kiss against your temple, playing with your slicked back hair.

"Get some rest. I have a few...tasks for you in the morning, once you've had time to rest. But right now, it's time to sleep."

You would worry about what the future held in the morning, for now, sleep was encompassing you in a welcoming darkness. You could hardly hear the next few sentences out of his mouth, his voice fading in and out, "...and if you try to crawl away I'll just break your kneecaps." He stroked the side of your face tenderly, watching as you finally fell asleep. "Sweet dreams."

#usagiwrites #reader x yandere #torture fic #male reader #smut

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mrslittletall · 4 years ago

Note

Number 17 with Ornstein and Nameless King, for the whumps prompt list, please ^^

Title: Thaw Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Dragon Slayer Ornstein/Nameless King Word Count: 4.859 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30799619

Summary: Unable to sleep, Ornstein takes a walk on Arch Dragon Peak, completely underestimating just how cold it can get up there.

(Author's note: Drowning/Hypothermia

Arghl, of course Ornstein would prompt me to write a massive amount of words, so here you go, enjoy your prompt ^^ I went with Hypothermia, because I already used Drowning for another fic.)

It was the dead of the night and Ornstein was wide awake.

He tried to fall back asleep a few more times. He closed his eyes, buried himself under the blankets and tried to completely empty his mind, but it was of no use. Eventually, he gave up. He needed to get up and go outside.

Back in the cathedral, he always had donned his armour and went on patrol through the dark streets of abandoned Anor Londo, but he wasn't at the cathedral anymore. Regardless, he knew that he couldn't stay here, lying wide awake in bed with no prospect of rest.

Ornstein got up and shivered. It was a cold night. He had come to Arch Dragon Peak only a few months prior, and he hadn't known how cold it could get up here. There surely would be snow outside. Ornstein searched for some warm boots and a thick sweater. Once he was dressed, he was putting his hair into a ponytail. Finally, he put a pair of gloves on. As he was sitting there, considering if he truly was fitted for the cold, Ornstein went back to his luggage and got a scarf out. It was old and ragged, but it still held him warm. A dragon was knitted into the scarf, it had been a gift from a dear friend. Ornstein enlaced his neck with the scarf and went to the door.

The only thing that Ornstein took with him was his spear. He had discarded his armour shortly after arriving and he planned to never don his armour again. He only took his spear with him in case he needed to defend himself. His dragon slaying days were long over.

On the way outside Ornstein stopped to peek into the room of the Master. It still felt unreal for him, that he had found him. That he had been so close all the time, on a mountain that could be seen from Lordran. Ornstein never had suspect for him to be so close, and so he had searched the world before finally taking a look at this mountain.

The Master was fast asleep, cuddled in his blankets and looking peaceful and content, his long white hair all over the pillow. A smile washed over Ornstein's face before he frowned. The Master wanted to rekindle his relationship with Ornstein right away, but Ornstein had been... reluctant. Too much had happened. The Master never knew about the hardships of Ornstein in the cathedral, about his relationship with Smough and how hard the journey to find him had been. He had just lived freely without a worry in the world. Ornstein wasn't ready yet. Even though his heart screamed at him to just forgive his old love, his brain said no. He also couldn't deny this tiny sting in his heart every time he thought about how the Master had turned traitor.

It were these thoughts that kept Ornstein awake. A walk in the fresh night air would do him good, so Ornstein finally turned around and went outside.

The fluffy snow on the ground told him right away that it was cold. It seemed fresh, as if it had just fallen. It was crispy cold and Ornstein felt how his lips got dry. It wouldn't surprise him if he would have a few cuts from the cold on his exposed skin later. He wouldn't mind about it though. He only wanted to take a walk for ten to fifteen minutes and come back right away. He would hardly freeze to death in this short time, especially not with the warm clothes he had put on.

Ornstein picked a direction and started to walk. He wasn't too familiar with the monastery grounds, but he had a general idea where everything was. For now, he was searching for some alone time, so he went away from the monastery, down the mountain path. The snow crunched under his feet. Ornstein thought back at the time that Artorias had challenged him to a snowball duel. It had ended with a bleeding nose for Ornstein and lots of apologies from Artorias. In the end, they had gone inside to have a warm drink. That had been much better times.

Artorias had died in the meantime. It had been such a long time ago, that almost nobody recognized his name anymore. Ornstein had heard of a group that honoured his memory though, a group that fought the dangers of the Abyss. He asked himself if they would just end like his late friend, corrupted and being forced to put down by some nobody. He wished this fate on nobody. At the same time, he had wanted to get put down by that nobody, but it never happened.

Ornstein looked at the ground and at the footsteps he produced. Having died back in the cathedral would have made everything so much easier. Then he wouldn't have to walk through the snow and try to avoid thinking about how he felt about his Master or missing his dead friend dearly once again.

He often asked himself if the other Knights of Gwyn waited for him or if they already moved on. If there was something like an afterlife and Ornstein would enter it somewhen, he probably would get his ass beaten for having taken so long. Ornstein never wanted to live that long. It still had happened. Deep inside of him, Ornstein secretly only wished for it all to finally end.

His thoughts wandered back to his Master. He, as well, hadn't died. He had stayed alive. He spent all these years, decades, centuries, millenia... how did he spend them? He didn't look unhappy, but... lonely. He looked incredibly lonely whenever Ornstein refused to get hugged by him or he cut their conversation short and went elsewhere because he felt unable to think straight in his presence.

Ornstein didn't even know why he was so stubborn.

Ornstein raised his head and looked in the sky when he felt something cold on his face. It had started to snow again. He probably should head back before he couldn't see anything anymore. Ornstein turned around and froze in place. He wasn't on the path anymore. He had been so lost in thought that he must have left it without noticing.

That was bad. He better found the path soon, or he could turn into an icicle very soon.

Ornstein kept his eyes on the ground and started to walk in the opposite direction he had come from, hoping that he would find the path back to the monastery by following his footsteps. This worked well until he had to notice that the snow, which had picked up in intensity over the time, had filled in his footsteps.

With not being able to see the path and not knowing where he was, Ornstein felt a slight panic creep up into him. The master had warned him to not get lost out in the mountain when it snowed. When the snow picked up, he would lose all orientation, not knowing where he was or in which direction he could walk. Ornstein felt it right at this moment, the snow was flurrying so wild that every direction he looked into seemed to be a pure white.

It didn't help that Ornstein started to feel his fingers and toes. Even with the gloves and the warm boots he was wearing, he felt the cold seeping into his body. His fingers and toes were going numb and soon he wouldn't be able to feel them anymore.

Still, Ornstein picked a direction and started to walk. He just needed to find something, anything, he could orientate himself on. Ornstein was in luck when the direction he picked ended on a wall. It also provided some shelter from the blizzard, so Ornstein leaned against the wall and tried to find out where he was. He couldn't be too far from the monastery. Of course this only applied when he hadn't gotten lost even more on his quest trying to find a way back.

A particularly cold and strong wind gust hit Ornstein and he hugged himself in an attempt to conserve some warmth, when he got buried under a sudden, very cold pile of snow. Ornstein yelped when it hit him, the snow came crashing down with enough force to even knock a man of his size down on the ground. As he was still in a slight panicked state about the possibility of being caught in an avalanche, Ornstein noticed that the snow around him didn't move.

It was his luck that he took his spear with him, because Ornstein was able to melt the snow around him and free himself from the pile. Only that now his clothes were completely soaked! It didn't matter how warm they originally were, when melted snow dripped off them. The harsh winds and still ongoing Blizzard did nothing to warm Ornstein up and he knew that he had to find a warm place soon if he didn't want to freeze to death.

Ornstein decided to follow the wall and hoped that it led up. The monastery was pretty much on the peak of the mountain, he should find his way back like this. Even though his toes protested, his body was violently shivering and he could hear his teeth chatter from the cold, Ornstein started to move.

The shivering didn't stop. How could it, when his clothes were so soaked? While Ornstein had the brief idea to use the powers of his spear to dry them, he probably would set them on fire on accident and he preferred wet clothes over no clothes in this heavy weather. While moving felt easy enough at the beginning, he soon started to feel sluggish and even putting one foot in front of the other was becoming a chore. He raised his head when he heard a voice, but quickly had to notice that he must have mistaken the wind... he just didn't know why the voice had sounded so much like Artorias.

Ornstein didn't know how long he already had wandered, when he felt the tiredness he had craved earlier, washing over his body. As much as he wanted to sleep back then, he knew that if he fell asleep in this cold and in this weather, he wouldn't wake up again. He had to find a warm place if he didn't want to freeze to death. Though, as Ornstein put one tired foot in front of the other again and again, feeling how his strength more and more left him, he asked himself why he resisted. Hadn't he thought about wanting to die just earlier? He just needed to give in and let his body rest. The cold would do the rest... he had been alive for so long already, maybe after his death he would finally see Smough and Artorias and Ciaran and Gough again...

Ornstein hadn't even noticed that he had stopped walking and sat down on the ground. The snow barely felt cold around him anymore. In fact, he felt hot. He felt like he wanted to get rid of his clothes... Ornstein was just in the progress of removing his scarf when something big... and warm... picked him up.

“Ornstein, I am so glad, I've found you!”

Ornstein opened his mouth to say “Master?”, but nothing came out. Instead, a rattling cough happened and Ornstein felt his body convulse under it. That cough wasn't because of the cold, this cough had plagued him for some while now.

“It's alright, Ornstein. I am here now. We'll get you into the warmth right away.”

As soon as Ornstein felt the master's warmth, he recognized how cold he actually was. How strange... just a few minutes earlier he wanted to get rid of his clothes.... but now he just relaxed in the Master's arm. What had he thought about earlier? That it was fine for him to freeze to death...? What had he been thinking? He didn't want to become a frozen dragon slayer in the middle of nowhere... as his thoughts engulfed Ornstein, he felt how his heavy eyes started to close. Sleep, he just wanted to sleep.

“No, Ornstein, you can't fall asleep!”, Ornstein jerked awake as he felt a sharp pain on his face. He was wondering a brief bit how he could feel it, his whole skin felt so numb, but it was definitely there.

“Please, you have to stay awake a little while longer. I will talk to you, Ornstein, concentrate on my voice. Just don't fall asleep.”

Ornstein raised a weak arm and gave the Master's shoulder a squeeze, telling him that he understood. The Master held his words and started to narrate all kinds of tales, especially tales of their time together in the cathedral. Ornstein would have been impressed about how much he remembered, if he wouldn't have been so tired. Once in a while his eyes fluttered shut, but he opened them right away when he felt pain in his face. It was hard to resist though, the Master's chest was so warm...

Finally, after what felt like hours , Ornstein was out of the wind and the snow. The moment his body was back in a warmer place, it started to protest about having been out in the cold for so long and he started to violently shiver.

“We need to get you warmed up right away.”, the Master said and bellowed some orders to the snake people in that strange hissing tongue. Ornstein was too out of it to keep much thoughts about it, he just wanted to warm up.

The Master brought Ornstein to his bedroom... the bedroom of the master, not Ornstein's, and put him down, then removing his wet, no in the meantime, they had frozen, clothes. Ornstein, still shivering, didn't protest when the Master rubbed him dry with a big towel, frowning as he looked at his toes.

“You got yourself some frostbite.”, he said. “This will hurt for a while. But first, we need to heat you up. Your lips are all blue, your body temperature surely is too low.”

Ornstein simply stared when the Master got undressed and laid into bed with him, putting the blankets over them both. He then felt himself engulfed by the strong arms of the Master and being pulled closer to his chest. Now that they both were naked, Ornstein felt the warmth of the Master even more than earlier, when he had been fully clothed. He had been the prince of the sun, the firstborn of the sun, a god of light, and even though he didn't have any of his titles anymore, his body still radiated the same heat Ornstein had loved so much back in Anor Londo.

He curled himself up in the Master's embrace and finally allowed for his body to get the rest he so desperately had craved earlier.

Ornstein awoke again before it was dawn. The Master still held him in his arms and looked at him with his amber eyes.

“Are you feeling warmer, Ornstein?”

Ornstein nodded and then tested if his mouth and tongue would move, before he spoke: “Why did you come looking for me? You were fast asleep when I set off.”

“I went to check on you when I had to get up anyway to take a leak.”, the Master replied. “I saw you missing and knowing you and your habit of taking a stroll when you can't sleep, and knowing that you weren't on the privy, because I just came from it, I had to go look for you after I saw the blizzard outside.”

The Master's gaze darkened. “Ornstein, you should know better than to go outside in this kind of weather.”

“It... it hadn't snowed once I set off...”, Ornstein tried to defend himself, it was a weak attempt, he knew it.

“Still, the snow was fresh and you ran straight out into a whiteout.”

Ah, that was the word for it. Fitting, because Ornstein surely hadn't been able to see anything other than white when he got caught in the blizzard. He felt how the Master's embrace around him tightened.

“Don't scare me like that, Ornstein. I just found you again. I can't lose you so soon again.”

Ornstein was about to retort that he had been the one to search out the Master and not the other way round, but he assumed the Master probably had searched for him through other methods. Through the eyes of the sunlight warriors for example... He also felt too weak to argue.

“I am sorry.”, he simply said.

“I am just glad I found you in time.”

“Master... how did you find me?”, Ornstein didn't have a clue how he had done it. Either he had been very close to the monastery, or the Master had some kind of special radar to locate him before he froze to death.

“That's easy.”, the Master chuckled. “You never stopped being one.”

“Never stopped being what?”, Ornstein was clearly confused. What was the Master talking about?

“A warrior of sunlight.”, the Master replied. “I just have to follow the golden signature all of you carry around with you. Even though you have been an excellent dragon slayer on your own, you have always preferred to work together with others. This signature has never left you. I just needed to walk in the direction towards the nearest sunlight warrior.”

Ornstein felt himself blush a little, however it was possible with his blood still feeling like it had frozen in his veins. It was true, he had never left his Master's covenant. He had stayed true to the end with it even in Anor Londo, always having fought at Smough's side.

“You feel a little warmer, but you still haven't your original body temperature back.”, the Master said as his forehead touched Ornstein's, who suddenly felt a lot hotter than before. “I have told the serpent man to bring some warm soup and prepare a bath. We need to warm you up from the inside and the outside.”

“Hmmm...”, Ornstein only said. He felt safe and secure in his Master's embrace... he didn't want to get up. His muttering turned into a whine when the Master moved to stand up and Ornstein felt all the cold at once in his body, violently shivering once the body warmth of him had left.

“Oh no, Ornstein, I am sorry.”, the Master said and wrapped Ornstein into a second blanket. “I won't be gone for long, I just need to see what takes the serpent men so long. It has been over two hours now.”

“I.. How long have I been asleep?”, Ornstein asked, his teeth chattering, making the words come out stuttered.

“Not long, actually. A little longer than an hour.”, the Master answered. “I will come back in a minute, don't worry.”

“Yes... thank you...”, Ornstein said and wrapped the blankets around him. His eyes felt heavy again, but he didn't feel like he could fall asleep with his body shivering so much. He truly had underestimated the mountain. Or maybe deep inside of him he had wanted to not come back. I can't lose you so soon again. The Master's word still hang over him.

The Master came back only two minutes later. Ornstein hadn't even noticed that he had put a loose robe on, but of course the Master wouldn't run around naked around the serpent men (though it felt a bit like a pity, his body surely deserved to be seen). He let the robe fall on the ground and crawled back into bed, taking Ornstein in his arms again. Ornstein cuddled himself against the Master's chest and his shivering slowly halted.

“The soup will be here soon.”, the Master said. “As long as we wait, I will keep you warm.”

“Thank you, Master...”, Ornstein said, closing his eyes as he rested his head on his Master's chest.

“I am not your Master anymore...”, the Master said. “You can call me by my name.”

His name... Gwynfor, no, Faraam. He had left his old name behind when he got banished. Ornstein opened his mouth to say it, but nothing came out. He probably would never be able to call his Master by his name.

Luckily, the Master didn't take it as offense and simply as Ornstein being too exhausted, shown by him rubbing circles in Ornstein's back and whispering soothing words to him. Words that didn't reach Ornstein's ears, but it was nice to hear his Master's voice.

After a while, or at least it felt like a good while, someone entered the chamber. Ornstein slowly opened his eyes as he heard his Master say some words in the tongue of the serpent men. A bowl was placed on the nightstand and the Master took it, dousing a spoon in it.

“Ornstein, say aaaah.”, the Master prompted Ornstein and the knight wrinkled his forehead.

“Master, I can eat myself.”, he said, not wanting to be treated like a little child.

“I am just teasing you, Ornstein.”, the Master said, but there was a certain disappointment in his voice to be heard, as he gave the spoon over. He continued to balance the bowl of soup on his lap however, all while Ornstein slowly ate. As it turned out, the soup had needed a while because they needed to let it cool down. It wouldn't have been good for him to eat something very hot while his body was still low in temperature itself. The warmth of the soup was exactly right however and Ornstein could feel some of his strength returning after he had finished the bowl.

“How are you feeling?”, the Master asked, embracing Ornstein once again once the empty bowl was put on the nightstand.

“Better, I think...”, Ornstein answered.

“Your skin still feels very cold.”, the Master said. “It's time for your bath.”

“Oh, alright...”, Ornstein said and put the blankets away, only to remember that he was, in fact, stark naked. He quickly put the blankets over himself again, even though the Master was the only one to see him. The thought of anyone coming in and seeing him like that was too much.

“I am getting you some warm robes.”, the Master said, as Ornstein wrapped himself completely with the blankets. He didn't like his naked body very much, all the scars on it... it made him feel self conscious. Neither the Master nor Smough had ever minded them, but each scar only reminded Ornstein of his losses. The one on his chest, caused by the Chosen Undead, was a special painful reminder. The wound that should have killed him, but hadn't. Not even Smough had succeeded, to caught up with his feelings for Ornstein to go through with it, only having taken a tiny part of his soul for himself.

The Master returned and handed Ornstein a thick robe, which he quickly put on. He then pulled the blankets back and got up, only to realize that his legs felt like pudding. He fell back on the bed and quickly hugged himself when his shivering came back, now that he was away from the comfort of the bed.

“Let me help you, Ornstein.”, the Master said and Ornstein felt himself being picked up. He also felt his face flush, however it was possible with his body temperature so low.

“Master, let me down...”, he said, his voice strained and weak, “If anyone sees us like this...”

“The only ones here are the serpent men and they don't mind.”, the Master said. “Now let's get you into that bath. I will come in with you as well.”

“Alright...”, Ornstein said, feeling too weak to struggle much.

On the way to the bath Ornstein asked himself why he even bothered. The Master had carried him back into the monastery and he surely had been seen by the serpent men, Ornstein had just been too out of it to register. It also wasn't like anyone would be there to judge them. It wasn't as if Ornstein was still a knight. He relaxed in the Master's arms and only flinched when he felt the robe covering him being removed. He then was gently set into a basin of warm water. It wasn't hot, it was just pleasantly warm. Ornstein laid his head on the edge of it and closed his eyes, hearing some splashing noises as the Master entered behind him.

“The water had to cool down a bit to not shock you.”, the Master explained. “With your body temperature so low, we need to gradually warm you up.”

Ornstein managed to raise his head to look at the Master, tiredly blinking.

“Do I have to move?”, he asked.

The Master chuckled and shook his head. “No, you can just stay in the bath and let me handle everything. Just don't be surprised if you get a bad cold the next few days, but we will make sure that you get healthy again soon.”

Ornstein could feel how the Master stroked over his hair and closed his eyes again, leaning into his embrace, resting his head on his chest. He was still so warm, not even because of the water, the Master always had been naturally warm. Ornstein always had craved this warmth, had felt safe and secure in his godly influence, but now the Master wasn't a god anymore. He had never lost his warmth though... which made Ornstein think that maybe it never had been the godhood that he had craved.

The Master gently moistened Ornstein's hair with the warm water. “Why have you gone wandering outside anyway?”

Ornstein opened his eyes again, waiting a few seconds before he replied.

“I couldn't sleep. I normally manage to fall asleep when I go wandering around for a bit, so I did. I... lost my way and before I knew it, it had started snowing.”

The Master hummed as his calloused fingers went through Ornstein's curls and massaged his scalp. The Ornstein from the past would have purred at this treatment, but the present Ornstein just felt so very tired.

“You know you can always come and sleep in my bed.”, the Master said. “Like when I warmed you up earlier. I gladly hold you, so that you can sleep better.”

Ornstein wasn't opposed to the offer, but... there was a certain knot in his throat. He just couldn't rekindle their relationship as easily as the Master wanted.

“Master...”, he said and he felt mortified when the next words came out sobbed: “I can't... not yet. So much... happened. I found someone... someone who never left me alone. Someone I wanted to die with. But I didn't die. For some cruel reason fate left me alive, left me with the knowledge that he died and I didn't. I couldn't stay there anymore, I had to go. Somewhere. Anywhere. I just...” I just needed a goal. Ornstein didn't finish the last sentence, his face feeling hot and flushed, the salty taste of his tears on his lips.

“When I was out there I thought it would be better for me to freeze to death.”, Ornstein instead finished his rant, unaware that the Master had pressed him against his chest and rubbed soothing circles in his back.

“I don't know everything that happened to you.”, the Master said. “And I want for you to share it at your own pace. I won't force you to rekindle our relationship, as much as it would joy me.”

The Master cupped Ornstein's face in his hands and gently forced him to look into his eyes, clear amber eyes, that were equally sharp as they were gentle. “I was overjoyed when you found me here, Ornstein. I thought I would never see you again. I knew you were still alive, but I never thought you would come back to me. I had already let you go, for you had moved on. I won't force you to do anything that you don't want, but please, Ornstein...”, the Master gently lifted Ornstein's chin and now Ornstein could see some tears in his eyes. “Please never say again that you should have died.”

While Ornstein could still feel a tear or two running down his face, no new ones fell out of his eyes after the Master's words. Ornstein hadn't even considered the Master's feelings in all of this, having been purely too self-absorbed in his own thoughts, in his own negativity, in his thoughts about how he just wanted to stop existing.

“I am sorry.”, he choked out, hating how broken and weak his voice sounded and he felt like bursting into tears right again when the Master replied with.

“You don't have to.” (Author's note: Wow, I got carried away! Ornstein is just too fun to write for me. I know there is heavy stuff in there... I have this headcanon that Ornstein was lowkey suicidal since a long time, but he never wanted to actively do it, it was more like a “If I die here, that would be fine.” kind of way. He is just so tired and he has lived for so long, that he asks himself why he even is still alive. If you yourself have some thoughts, please get some professional help ASAP however, Ornstein's mindset is not healthy and NK was right to call him out on Ornstein saying that he wanted to die. There are a lot of issues between NK and Ornstein when they find each other again on Arch Dragon Peak. Feel free to ask about my headcanons about it or maybe one day I turn it into a story, if you guys are interested in my take about NKstein take. Anyway, this got even more angstier than intended, but I hope you enjoyed. Also, props for Death Stranding to letting me experience a whiteout. I tell you, they are scary. You can't see shit and you don't even know where up and down is anymore and that was in a video game!)

#dark souls #fanfiction #dragon slayer ornstein #the nameless king #nkstein #march of the whumps #hypothermia #huddling for warmth #suicidial ideation #request fill #littlewritesstuff #taroris

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the-pale-goddess · 4 years ago

Text

Breakfast at Tiffany’s - Ethan Ramsey x MC (Tiffany Addams)

Tiffany surprises Ethan with a fancy breakfast.

It’s all cute until it turns to filth. Then it’s fluff again. Aaaaand back to slutty. A three-course, self-indulgent breakfast, if I may convey.

Rating/Category: Explicit / smut with a side of fluff

Warnings: p*rn with no plot, language

Author’s note: Coming back to my OH2 more or less canon fic business!

Here’s the smutty part of the little band aid I promised for all the harm I’ve done to you with Home With You AU. I just wanted to give you something sweet before we proceed with the emotional rollercoaster in Chapter 3...Well, I did my best, but my filthy mind would never allow me to write some pure and innocent fluff 😅 Hope it’s not too slutty for you lol You’ve been warned!

Please, forgive me the title - I just saw the opportunity and I took it lol

____

Ethan opened his eyes with a sinking feeling this Thursday would be out of the new ordinary. His bed was cold and empty. There was no cascade of black hair unwittingly waking him up with a gentle tickle on his skin, no tender caress begging him to stay in the sheets a tad longer.

Another surprise awaited when an overfamiliar appetizing smell hit his nostrils, forcing him to rush out of bed in order to investigate the unexpected scene.

The missing piece of Ethan's morning routine was dancing her way through the kitchen, wreaking sweet havoc with a pile of dirty dishes and different ingredients scattered all over the kitchen island, just to cook a tower of flawlessly fluffy pancakes – now proudly placed on display near the oven. They looked perfect, but not as perfect as Tiffany in the weak morning light; her dark wavy hair falling down on bare shoulders, in contrast to the lacy white lingerie set that flaunted all her curves. She was swinging to the tune she whistled to herself, oblivious of the lurking admirer.

„I don't think I'll ever get used to this view.” Ethan's voice got her spinning around in a flutter to face him. He was leaning against the fridge, an adoring smile playing on his lips as his eyes were roaming over her silhouette. She flushed furiously under the intensity of his gaze, trying to hide the sudden clumsiness of her movements with a sheepish beam.

„Your girlfriend cooking breakfast for you in nothing but her underwear?”

He eyed her intently, biting his bottom lip before he answered with a poker face. „My kitchen in disarray.”

Tiffany shook her head incredulously, as she strained the freshly made raspberry sauce through a sieve. „Trust me, it'll be worth it. And don't worry, I'll clean everything up later, Doctor Terminator.”

„It already is.” He pulled her body close to his, causing her back to collide with his chest. „I can't believe you're still using that nickname.”

„You have to admit it's catchy.”

„Mhm. Do you need any help?” His arm draped over her shoulder, hugging her tight.

„Sure. There's a dozen of pancakes waiting for you. Hope you're ready for a sweet death topped with whipped cream and a home-made raspberry sauce.”

„I didn't plan on falling into a food coma, but you had me at pancakes. Meaning yes, I'm ready.” The powerful combination of Ethan's soft lips and his scratchy chin glued to the sensitive skin on her neck, peppering her with featherlike kisses.

„Someone's clingy today.” She gave him a loud peck on his forearm.

„I'm starving, Tiffany.” A husky whisper rolled in her ear, the words followed by a gentle bite that sent a red-hot shiver down her spine. She chuckled to herself.

„Good! I was genuinely scared that you'd hate the idea because of your love-hate relationship with pancakes. The sauce will need a few minutes to cool down a bit, and then – Oh!” Tiffany stopped dead in her tracks when the hard evidence of Ethan's hunger pangs pressed against her butt. She dropped her jaw in surprise, slightly amused by the realization she didn't get the hint quite right – it was a different kind of appetite. She spun round to face him, the wicked smile suggested she was more than eager to play along.

„On second thought, I suppose we can have a taste of what will be served today.” Never breaking the gaze, she dipped her finger in the whipped cream and offered it to Ethan. He licked it clean, keenly watching Tiffany's face turn crimson red.

„Not bad for a mixture of fat and sugar. Though it's far from what I expected to be on the menu.” Tiffany raised her brows, fake offended, her expression elicited a hearty chuckle from Ethan.

„Well, aren't you a picky eater, Doctor Ramsey? Luckily, I came prepared.” Her finger dived into the bowl with raspberry sauce. „Try some of this.”

„Mmm, delicious.” He gushed, his tongue slithering around her finger. „But yet again...That's not what I crave the most.”

”I wonder what would that be...” She bit her lip seductively as she reached for Ethan's hand. He swallowed loud and moved a bit closer just when she slipped his thumb into her mouth. The provocative movement had his imagination run wild. „Aren't you gonna tell me?”

„Tiffany, I...” Ethan failed to articulate his thought, too absorbed in sinful visions almost melting his brain.

„Tell me what do you crave, Ethan.” She demanded and he suddenly felt even weaker. His thumb got trapped in her mouth again, her other hand massaging his inner thigh through the material of his pants.

„You.” His voice dripped with wild need.

„How do you want me?” Tiffany released the thumb with a heady pop, holding his stare the entire time.

„I want to...”

„Do you want to come in my mouth?” She used his finger to brush her bottom lip, then grazed it with her teeth mere seconds later.

„Fuck...Yes, please.” He muttered, pressing his forehead together with hers.

Smiling magnetically from ear to ear, Tiffany crashed into Ethan, kissing him hungrily with their tongues twisted together. The prelude wouldn't last long, and in a flash she moved down his body – already hot and shivering with primal need. Her lips glided over every inch of his skin, placing open-mouthed kisses along the way. Just when she was low enough, she flipped her hair and dropped on her knees, pulling his pants down with her.

Ethan could swear that the very sight of her mischievous smile dancing around his throbbing cock was enough to make him come. He shuddered in tense anticipation as he watched her tease him with graceful strokes of her tongue wandering around his abdomen.

„Could you...” A tantalizing base-to-tip lick shut him up on the spot and took his breath away. She followed the same path with a soft touch of her lips, quietly humming with relish. His hips bucked involuntarily, overpowered by the tender sensation, begging for more.

The unspoken request was yet to be fulfilled – her slim fingers began stroking him at the base, while her mouth covered the sensitive tip. He groaned in response, his body temperature rising to a dangerously high level. His hand instinctively tugged at her hair, tying any defiant locks in his handy grip.

When Tiffany slid his whole length into her luscious mouth, the divine warmth took away the last bit of control he had, and made him gasping for air. Fighting back the tears was a feeble effort with his huge member hitting her throat, but she rose to the challenge, gagging violently before she adjusted to a safe and steady rhythm.

Ethan marvelled at the view of her watery emerald eyes gazing into his blues as she sucked him like her life depended on it, her precise tongue and skillful hand working him up to a blissful fever. The overwhelming feeling of pleasure had him moan ecstatically, bringing him on the verge of madness. Encouraged by the guttural sounds reserved only for her, she quickened the pace, bobbing her head up and down. His muscles reacted in an instant, tensing even harder, demanding an immediate release. A few moments later, he reached his high and spilled inside her mouth; the obscene groan of his climax ringing in her ears like a favorite song. She took the load with a triumphant smirk, swallowing every drop.

„This is grossly unfair.” He leaned on the nearest countertop awestruck, satiated and out of breath, struggling to keep himself standing.

„What is?” She got up, climbing up his body, and bit down on his shoulder blade.

„The power you have over me.”

Tiffany grinned, pressing her cheek to his broad back as she wrapped her arms around his chest. „But you did like the first course of your breakfast, didn't you?”

„I haven't eaten anything yet.” Ethan turned around, falling into her embrace with a pointed look.

„All right, I'll fill you up with these pancakes now.” Chuckling softly, Tiffany took a step back, seemingly ready to start the day, but Ethan kept her in place by holding her wrist. A gleam of lust reappeared in his eyes as he was slowly regaining his energy.

„Pancakes can wait a little longer. Let me eat you out.”

Before she managed to form a sentence, Ethan's fingers skimmed through her back and unclasped her bra, tossing it to the ground. His greedy hands began exploring her body, tracing her curves, only to slide his fingers behind her panties and pull them off, so they would share the fate of the bra.

„You know that I've never really understood the purpose of art, but looking at this absolute masterpiece right in front of me?” Tiffany raised her brows in surprise, returning his worshipful gaze. „I think I might modify my stance.”

„Wait, is that an actual compliment, or you're quoting some lines from the poetry book you'll soon be releasing?” They both snorted with laughter that quickly died when their lips fused in the hastiest, sloppiest kiss.

„I'll let you win this one, you deserve it.”

„Oh, what a lucky day!” She chirped in sarcastic tone. Ethan shook his head and lunged for her neck, sucking at her skin.

When his lips abruptly broke away from her, she yelped in protest, but little did she know what Ethan had in store for her. The burning desire in his eyes instantly set her body ablaze. He turned her around, brushing her messy hair away from her back, and began kissing her along the spine, inch by inch, moving excruciatingly slow. His beard rough against her silky flesh, scratching her pleasantly. She closed her eyes, relishing the delight of Ethan's touch. Suddenly, a piercing smack flew across her butt.

She jumped, flabbergasted, as her blood boiled with excitement. „Ethan Jonah Ramsey!”

„You liked that, didn't you?” He let out a supremely confident laugh and spanked her again.

„I plead the Fifth.” She giggled, biting her lip. His hands squeezed her bum and lifted her up. A moment later she lay flat on the kitchen island, legs spread wide and waiting.

Ethan wasted no time – his lips continued the journey across Tiffany's aching body, nuzzling her hips, kissing her thighs, licking her belly, sucking on her breasts. They were everywhere, except where she needed him most. He noticed how hopelessly she tried to catch his attention with the suggestive movement of her hips, but he decided to torture her for his own enjoyment, savoring the exquisite scent and taste of this very special meal.

Her impatience eventually rubbed off on him. At last, he nestled comfortably between her legs, and sunk his tongue directly into her soaked folds. She didn't even make an effort to tone her moans down and Ethan was quite grateful for that. His tongue worked its magic, lashing at her clit, knowing exactly where to suck to bring her over the edge. Her hips rolled to the rhythm of Ethan's licking, begging for more friction. He immediately read the sign, inviting his fingers to join the fun. He rubbed her expertly, all the while licking her swollen clit. She was so close, already sweaty and shivering, with hands on both sides of the countertop, her knuckles white from all the force she had to use to keep herself from falling down.

When Ethan kept his pace up, she knew he was going for the last bite. In the blink of an eye, she arched her back, coming hard as the outpouring of bliss washed over her. She fought for her breath, lying still with her eyes closed and mouth open.

„Don't get too comfortable there, Rookie, I'm not done with you.” She could feel him smirking against her skin when his lips moved down her trembling leg.

„Is it because last night I fell asleep during your precious documentary and we missed our daily dose of inappropriate snuggles?” Tiffany cracked up and Ethan soon followed.

„Yes and no.” He leaned his chin on her knee, meeting her gaze. „I know how much you hate both cooking and waking up early. This is the least I could do to make this morning more tolerable for you.”

„Keep spoiling me like that and I will literally melt.” A beam of unfiltered happiness spread over her face, her eyes filled with utmost adoration. „Besides, just to clarify: I hate cooking, but I enjoy doing it for you.”

An intimate silence washed over them as they stared at each other, basking in the glorious feeling of these small gestures of affection. Ethan shook his head in wonder, his mind racing. He wanted to tell her. He was certain she knew that already, probably even long before he had realized the nature of his feelings...And yet, his words failed him, offering a blank space instead of a proper way to name the drums echoing in his heart at the very thought of Tiffany. He quickly gathered himself, stood straight and cleared his throat.

„Enough chit-chat, we're on a very tight schedule. Stand up.” With a little help from Ethan, Tiffany jumped off the countertop and hooked her arms around his neck.

„Oh, I'll show you tight, sir.” She avowed with a devilish grin.

„God, you're impossible.” Ethan heaved a long sigh in response, right before their lips melted into a deep, fervent kiss.

Cutting to the chase, Tiffany turned her back to Ethan, colliding with his body. Without any hesitation, he entered her with a hefty push, filling her up in a way she'd never experienced before. She was perfectly accustomed to his size, but the standing position was brand new to them. She didn't expect that a slightly different angle could leave an all-consuming, almost agonizing feeling of fullness before he even began pounding her. A series of vehement whimpers escaped her mouth without her permission. Her chest heaved as she struggled to control her breathing. If it wasn't for his firm grip, her legs would surely give up.

Ethan immediately noticed the unconcealable shift in her demeanor. He cupped her cheek, slowly pulling out of her.

„Baby, is everything all right?” He whispered, his voice full of concern. „Do you want me to stop?”

She instinctively grabbed his hand and locked her body on him in a desperate cry, every word a torture. „I want you inside.”

He nodded, relieved, pulling her as close as it was humanly possible. Her head lolled back, resting comfortably on Ethan so they could still glance at one another. They exchanged a blithe smile, reflecting the dizzying sensation of each other's presence. His lips brushed her forehead in a sweet kiss just as he began moving inside of her.

He started off slow, pulling in and out as gently as he could, keeping her steady in his protective arms. Her previous remark proved to be right – she was insanely tight and dripping wet, her scent and unrestrained moans only adding to his arousal. He knew he wouldn't last long.

„Harder, please.” She whimpered, tightening her clutch on his arms. He willingly complied, deepening his thrusts, setting a merciless pace. The sound of slapping flesh punctuated by their heavy breathing and pleasure vocalized in the most indecent way.

Everything was Ethan – he invaded all her senses, emptying her mind, leaving nothing but his name. Tiffany could feel the thunder in his heart pounding on her back; his hands were mindlessly roaming over her curves as she remained trapped in his strong embrace. His fingers snuck to her clit, rubbing her with expert precision while his cock kept on ravishing her. She was mere seconds away from another orgasm, unable to communicate in any form other than shameless moaning.

Ethan was right behind her, chasing the finish line. His deafening groans got more desperate, thrusts slower and rigid, his fingers pleasuring her frantically, until they both cried out in unison – their bodies twisted in overwhelming ecstasy.

Tiffany toppled over the countertop, breathless – her blazing flesh took comfort in the cold of the marble, with fingers skimming blindly across its surface in a desperate attempt at keeping herself steady. She had no time to recover, as Ethan's body clutched at her tight, his burning skin clamping around hers. His ragged breath hovered over her ear, just as his hand dived into the damp mess of her hair, pulling her locks aside to gently suck on her neck.

„Oh, God...We should...” She panted with her eyes closed, tilting her head to give him more access.

„Mhm.” He hummed with approval, tracing scratchy kisses across her shoulder. „I know.”

Instead of acting on the incoherent thought, he turned her around, crashing into her lips without any warning. They kissed slowly for a long minute before Tiffany retreated, gazing into the endless ocean of his eyes. A cheeky smirk flew across her face.

„You called me baby.”

Ethan stared at her perplexed, his brows frowned. „No, erm...I didn't?”

„You totally just did.” Tiffany's laughter filled the room, the sound shook him to the core, along with the realization the pet name might have accidentally slipped through.

„No, you probably misheard that.” He stuttered an evasive reply, that earned a well-deserved scoff.

„Don't try to deny that you called me baby for the first time, and it happened – let me stress that – during sex.”

„Stop it. Let's not make a big deal out of this. We still need to get to work.” Ethan countered, hoping that the final argument was meaningful enough to end the cross-examination.

„That's a very convenient excuse, Mr I'll Casually Avoid Any Uncomfortable Topic. You're right, though. We should hurry up with the proper breakfast. But let's take a quick shower first.”

„Together?” He cocked his brows, sceptical about the idea.

„Yeah, why not?” Her index finger twirled around his nipple.

„We're already running out of time, we can't afford the further delay.”

„I thought you like a challenge, baby.” She pressed a wet kiss on his chest and broke the embrace. Ethan watched her walk off towards the bathroom with a tantalizing sway of her hips. He took a sharp breath, his eyes followed her every move, scanning her naked form up and down. When she reached the bathroom door, she shot him a sultry wink and disappeared behind the door. He shook his head, transfixed and defeated, muttering to himself.

„We're going to be late then.”

___

Sorry if there are any typos or mistakes, this B is too tired to double-check lol

___

Taglist: I’ll post it separately in a reblog because [tumblr] is being a brat

#ethan x mc #open heart #ethan ramsey #my fanfic writing #ethan ramsey x mc #sorry not sorry

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akirameta84 · 4 years ago

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Warning: This is VERY LONG. i got carried away.

"hey don't you have a wip fic for another au?" yeah shush i have a new idea that's not as fleshed out (after writing that turned out to be a lie) as the chunibyo one but i had to share it.

its in every fandom, but Saiki K Pokemon Au time. it's always cliche but who cares its amazing.

Kaido is the mc. for sure. he chooses a froakie because the professor (its kusuke, he's totally it) said it was a dark and mysterious as him. at first he's disappointed by the frog but once it evolves he starts loving it. him and greninja wear matching outfits. he tied red wrist wraps on its arms and he wears a pink scarf.

nendo is his rival lmao. he met him when kaido left with his first pokemon and challenged him to a battle, immediatly. he said loser has to buy the other persons ramen. "but i dont even know you??" "oh. well lets be friends, runt!" "you just asked to fight me???" nendo uses an eevee because his mom gave it to him when he was young. kaido wins because nendo didnt use a single attacking move. he just used sand attack and growl. the battle lasted 10 minutes because kaido kept missing.

now with his newly self proclaimed rival, after going to eat ramen, kaido sets out on his journey. i like to imagine a region with just every pokemon cause its cool that way. kaido mainly looks for fighting type pokemon, and a few dark types, and it takes him a bit to realize that this is probably a bad strategy and that he isnt finding anything, as cool as they are. he catches a shroomish, not knowing it became a type he wanted, because he was impressed with it's "battle capabilities" because it survived an attack that had fainted others. he names it doomslayer cause he's such an edgelord.

somewhere along the way nendo finds him and says that he's going to challenge a gym, and that kaido should join him. kaido agrees because "oh yeah, thats why im on this journey" and they go to the first gym.

The first gym is ghost type, run by toritsuka. why is he first? cause he's prolly not very good at battling and he knows it. the gym itself would be very foggy, and kaido has to traverse it to get to toritsuka. along the way toritsuka has spirits tell him where kaido is, and he'll release a pokemon near there for him to battle, and this happens 2 times. Torisuka himself uses 2 pokemon, a Litwick and a Galarian Yanmask. both are female, obviously. kaido absolutely demolishes these two pokemon, with his water and grass type, seeing as they're part fire and ground. first badge complete.

surpsingly, nendo also beats this gym, mainly because eevee can use bite. guess he figured out how to use attacking moves lmao. also yes ik bite is learned at 25, and rn they're at like lv 12 but shh. he found a tm or smt. it also helps thst toritsuka could barely hit nendos eevee due to the ghost and normal type thing.

nendo tries to travel with kaido, but kaido usually manages to worm his way away from him. he usually gets away whenever nendo challenges someone else and they have to tell him that he can't catch someone else's pokemon.

second gym is chiyo's gym. she uses grass types, and her gym is covered in flowers, trees, and it looks like a forest. the puzzle itself is rather simple. the floor is covered in large flowers, and you have to step on the correct ones or get sent back to the start. i like to imagine a giant vine yeeting kaido. chiyo also forgot to write clues over which ones are correct and ends up helping kaido, and winds being endeared by his determination. chiyo uses a Fomantis and a Petilil, because she thinks they're cute. kaido actually struggles quite a bit because he brings a water type and a grsss type. he wins in the end though, because chiyo ends up lovestruck and forgets to attack. she daydreams about inviting him to run the gym with her because he's so talented in her eyes, but he leaves before she can ask, grass badge in hand.

after chiyo's gym, kaido's froakie evolves into Frogadier, and he cries. in-between gyms again, kaido catches a rockruff because it was cute and it whined when he tried to walk away after battle. again, kaido catching types he likes without even knowing, provided his rockruff evolves at nightime. he names it Decimator. at this point i place kaido's levels at 19-21 ish, and close to rockruff and shroomish evolving.

next gym is hairo's and surprise surprise, it's a fire type gym. his gym his very, very intense. he has actual jets of fire lining his gym. there's no puzzle because he believes in just battling for victory or whatever, kaido didn't catch it behind the roar of the fire jets. kaido just walks along a pathway and gets challenged to battle by 3 randoms. i like to imagine one of them is nendo, and its never discussed. he has a fire type and everything, and its just not brought up. he's back to his single eevee after this too. kaido also wins with relative ease, considering he has a water type and rock type, although he makes the mistake of sending shroomish out at some point, but makes a clutch switch after it survives a flamethrower. fire badge obtained.

right after this, his shroomish evolves into breloom and he cries again. he gets very happy when his pokemon evolve. and also, after a few random encounters, his rockruff also evolves. its day form because kaido is a clueless baby. he still loves it all the same. at some point nendo challenges kaido with a single pokemon again, but this time it's a leafeon. kaido asks how he knew to evolve it, and he just says he battled next to some funny looking rock and it changed. of course. it actually manages to oko Frogadier because kaido wasnt expecting anything other than an eevee, but his breloom deals with it easily, because nendo kept using not very effective grass moves because it worked once. how does he have 3 badges again? nobody knows. level 25-27 now.

next gym is saiko's, and he uses normal types because all the other types were "too needy for someone like him." he's got 2 Persians and a Toucannon. he tried to use 3 persians but he was told that he needed something else just in case someone brought a fighting type by his dad. so he grabbed the first wild bird he found and evolved it. saiko doesnt have a puzzle, and instead just has an elevator that you can pay 5000 Pokedollars to use, otherwise you have to take the stairs like a pleb. Kaido takes the stairs because he's keeping his money dammit. its only 3 stories until saiko's floor, so it's really not much. Kaido sweeps easily with breloom until toucannon comes out. breloom gets slaughtered by a flying type move, and he sends out lycanroc to finish it. normal badge complete.

when he next sees nendo, he has a meowth with his leafeon. kaido asks where he got it, and nendo says he found it near the rich looking gym. kaido concludes that nendo accidently stole a pokemon and they go to return it. saiko says that the plebs can have it as a reward for defeating him, and dismisses them. levels 30-33.

5th gym! mera runs this one, and there isn't a type. she has an Alcremie, Appletun, Cherubi, and a Vannilish. what can i say, girl loves her food. kaido is genuinely concerned that she is gonna eat her pokemon though. the challenge is cooking. kaido has to cook curry, and if its bad, he fights a trainer, up to 3 times. if its good he gives it to mera and moves on the next curry. the actual battle goes okay, but its fairly difficult due to not having a single type, and being unpredictable. obviously he wins in the end, and the badge is a bowl of curry.

frogadier evolves into greninja finally, and they have the matching outfits going on. nendo laughs at it. somewhere nendo also got an applin. kaido is fairly sure he took this one from mera as well, but he decides to let it go, and tell nendo how he can evolve it. he doesn't think nendo understood, but he tried. kaido also realizes he only has 3 pokemon, and decides to find two more. he finds a braixen, which he evolves into delphox. her name is Lucifer's Eternal Flames. Lucy for short. he also catches a noibat. the noibat was caught because he got lost in a cave, and the noibat was leading him out, so he decided he couldn't just leave it there. he names it the Jet Bat Wings. yes im doing that and yes its hilarious. levels 37-39.

gym 6. fighting type, and its kuboyasu. he tried to leave behind his violent days behind him, and become a poison type gym, but eventually gave in and did fighting instead. after he had already dyed his hair purple for the colorscheme. he kept the fighting gym purple because he already commited dammit. 4 pokemon, and hes got Toxicroak (yes ik the irony), Lucario, Grapploct, and Pangoro. greninja faints quickly, and so does lycanroc, but after some paralysis tricks with breloom and delphox sweeping the rest, pangoro comes in and ko's delphox. noibat pulls through in the end, with flying type moves. fighting badge earned.

next battle with nendo, and it turns out he actually evolved applin, and now he's got a flapple. kaido is midly impressed. kaido catches his 6th and final pokemon, an absol. he was overjoyed when he finally got another dark type. he names it Fluffy. yes, the dark type doesnt get an edgy name. levels 44-46, there was a longer gap in between the 6th and 7th gyms. oh also, you may be wondering about an evil team in this au. and my answer is....¯\_(ツ)_/¯

gym 7. Fairy type. Teruhashi. you knew she'd be coming eventually. and yes i saved the characters people prolly wanna know about until last haha. and because i think they fit the more difficult gyms. girl's got 5 pokemon, Mimikyu (i think it fits her fake perfect girl personality), Slyveon, Gardevoir, Florges, and Magearna. how does she have a legendary? prolly cause she's perfect and just asked for it, and someone actually found one. No puzzle here, but having to find his way through the mobs of teruhashi fans is prolly hard enough. Kaido actually has to try this gym several times due to him lacking anything good againist fairies. he gets it eventually though, and teruhashi has to reassure her fans that it's okay that she lost before they murder kaido. fairy badge down.

at this point kaido has no clue how nendo keeps getting gym badges. he has 3 pokemon, and one isn't even evolved. especially considering how easily Kaido himself can beat him. kaido I shrug it off as the plothole it usually is in pokemon games. levels 47-50. Noibat evolves into Noivern, and kaido has himself a pretty strong team. Greninja, Delphox, Absol, Lycanroc, Noivern, Breloom. although he has just been choosing based on personal preference, it turnes out nicely. and yes I'm padding this out cause y'all know what gym is next.

Gym number 8. The psychic type gym, run by Saiki and Aiura. It doesn't get more cliche than this. The challenge in this one is a maze. There's no extra trainers here, instead Kaido fights Aiura everytime he encounters her. She only uses 1 Pokemon in these battles because they happen a lot. Kaido wonders how she keeps finding him, let alone getting through the maze so easily when there's walls everywhere. He brushes it off as her just knowing the layout. battle itself happens, and it's a double battle. they each have 3 pokemon. Saiki has a ditto, espeon, and an alolan raichu (because he thought it was cute) Aiura mainly runs the support side of the team, and she's got a female meowstic, alakazam, and reuniclus, and wishes she had a cuter team, but she makes it work. This is prolly Kaido's second hardest gym. not harder than teruhashi's because he had no advantages, unlike this one where he's got several dark types. the battle is hard because they know exactly what kaido is gonna do. the minute he sends out his breloom to get a cheap paralysis, out comes ditto. the breloom ditto nearly wipes out both dark types, but noivern takes care of it, only to meet a sad demise at the hands of raichu, despite the dragon advantage. he's able to win on his second try, after he refused to send out breloom due to the fact that they just seem to know his next move. it creeped him out. Psychic badge done.

nendo tries to take saiki out for ramen with him and kaido after his gym fight, declaring him his best buddy, and it's not explained why nendo decided this. nendo eventually wins the argument and they get ramen. kaido notices saiki looks disturbed everytime he looks at nendo, but brushes it off as "yeah he disturbs me too." they part ways and onto victory road because im still mourning how there wasn't one in sword and shield. after victory road, kaido is nearing level 60 on everyone.

elite four? eheh i don't know who'd make it up. prolly 4 previous gym leaders with fully evolved teams and more pokemon. not tlo worries about them tho.

Kaido bests the elite four, and marches on to the champion.

Champion Akechi. Full team of 6 Pokemon, and he's a formidable opponent. He's able to easily predict what moves are going to be used next, and always has type advantage. Although, unlike before, while difficult to do, it is possible to do something unpredictable to trip him up, which is the only way Kaido is able to win. His team consists of Serperior, Glaceon, Gyrados, Ninetales, Togekiss (it's just there to be annoying, it can barely attack, and akechi did this to be a nuisance so he can't be clean sweeped), and Mew. Again, I love unexplained lengendaries on teams okay. To Kaido, it seems like with enough switching, he could easily defeat Akechi, but Akechi is very good at predicting. So againist Akechi, it's like the team as been catered specifically to beat Kaido. But, knowing him, it likely was. It takes him ages to beat Akechi. Like literal ages. The only saving grace is Akechi can get tripped up if Kaido is unpredictable enough. It's likely a mixture of that and para hscks that lets him win, and Kaido is champion. Nendo did try to challenge him (somehow beating the elite four) but was beaten. I love how the rivals always beat everything but then get horribly beaten by you.

Holy shit this is longer than i thought it would be. I have been writing this for literal hours. Hope you enjoyed. This is what my brain had inspiration for today apparently, instesd of the fic im working on.

Hadn't seen too much Pokemon stuff for saiki k yet, so tada. and yes, i came up with most of this while writing. the only idea i had before i started writing was the saiki and aiura gym

#saiki k #saiki kusuo no psi nan #the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki kusuo #kaidou shun #nendo riki #teruhashi kokomi #chiyo yumehara #akechi touma #saiko metori #kuboyasu aren #hairo kineshi #toritsuka reita #aiura mikoto #mera chisato #pokemon #pokemon au #saiki kusuke

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wasabi-mommy · 4 years ago

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Hello, this is a short 3 part fic I’m in process of writing.

Summary: Kakashi has lost the one he loves most, how? He doesn’t know. How is he is still alive? Also, he doesn’t know. Dealing with the intense emotions, the stress of change, and living without the love of his life is tearing him apart. Kakashi doesn’t know it, but he has people looking out for him though, Even if he doesn’t feel like it.

(Let’s base this before he has OG team 7)

Day By Day (1/3)

Warnings!: ANGST, DEATH, BLOOD, ACTIVE VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE.

He didn’t know what was worse. Couldn’t tell what hurt more... the first night knowing that she’s gone, or every single day after.

Kakashi was still awake, like he had been for the last 6 days.. no.. no it was almost morning now. No.. 7 days.. a week. His eyes glued to the ceiling of his “old” apartment.

Once more in his life he felt empty. He felt like a fucking idiot.. letting his guard down again- letting someone in. Again. Of course they would be doomed to die as everyone else Kakashi cared for would.

He didn’t even know how she died. He woke up to her body lifeless on top of his... He doesn’t remember who carried him to safety.. he doesn’t remember who hauled his half dead body 100 miles back to the village, he doesn’t even remember being in a medically induced coma.

All Kakashi can recall.. is waking up to his lover’s body on top of his, stained with cold blood , yelling her name and shaking her to wake up- to open her eyes.

Then it was black.

He remembers shooting up from the hospital bed, ripping off the wires and tubes attached to him, he remembers practically interrogating the doctors and hospital staff...”She bled out” the medics told him.

He sat up slowly, he was disgusted with himself, his body felt like sludge. His head fell into his hands, his face unyielding of any emotion but the tears streaming down his cheeks clearly say otherwise.

He crossed his legs as he stifled a silent sob.

He loved her. She was the kind, unselfish,sweetest, intelligent laidback person he had ever known.. and she didn’t even have to try, because that’s how genuine she was. Kakashi’s breathing gradually slowed and he lifted his head from his hands. He threw his legs over to the side of the bed and with all the effort of whatever was left in him, pushed himself up.

The funeral or the preparations atleast.. was what he would genuinely crushed him. She didn’t have any family, no next of kin, only him. He had to sign the release forms for her body at the morgue, he had to handle the paperwork regarding funeral arrangements. It was a constant sick reminder from the minute he woke up on an active battlefield.. that she was dead.

Kakashi’s legs were numb but managed to carry him to the bathroom just fine. He scanned himself in the mirror. His silver hair thrown in every direction, dark bags forming under his eyes from sleepless nights, his maskless face covered in scruff. He let out a short laugh followed by a small cry.

‘I should be ashamed of myself’ he thought staring down his own reflection.

The anger was carved into Kakashi’s face and he couldn’t hold it in anymore, with his knuckles white and a quick cock back of his fist, he’d lost it. The sound that escaped his lips as his fist easily went through the dry wall was one he’d never actually heard from himself before. It wasn’t like him to be this extremely outwardly violent.

The mirror fell off the wall and shattered on the tile floor, Kakashi’s breaths were heavy and his eyes fell below him. The glass had sliced his ankles and feet. For some reason.. he couldnt feel the pain, but he could see the blood starting to seep from the cuts. Other than that.. nothing.

“MR. HATAKE! WHAT IS GOING ON?!” A raspy female voice called out as she banged loudly on the front door.

“Shit” He mumbled. He’d forgotten, his neighbor was actually his landlord. He let out a sigh and rand his hand through his tangled hair. He can’t feel anything- at least in the moment so he walked without a care over the shattered glass on the bathroom floor.

He slowly turned the knob of the door revealing the short chubby grey haired women standing with her arms crossed.

“Mr.Hatake do you understand it is 4 in the Morning!? What are you doing punching holes through my walls?!” She yelled flailing her knobby arms around.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Roshi” she arms fell, she opened her eyes to get a closer look at his.

“Mr. Hatake! You’re bleeding!” Ms. Roshi grabbed his hand before he could protest and guided him through the door to the right of his.

“You sit down, I’ll fix you up!” She motion him to the living room while she waddled away. Kakashi found himself sitting on the sofa, hand folded in his lap, he could feel the dried tears along his cheeks, and a headache was sure to be coming along.

‘She won’t be offended if I just leave right? ..no i already put a hole through her wall.. she’d probably evict me at that point..’ he thought folding his hands into his lap.

Ms. Roshi came back with a large bowl of water, a small metallic bowl, medical tweezers, surgical sutures, alcohol pads, and bandages. She set everything down on the floor and looked up at Kakashi. She frowned, there was an emptiness that she could she through his dark eyes. Roshi herself had a feeling what had happened seeing that look in a mans before.

She lightly lifted up his heel and began to observe the wound soon plunking away at glass shards. Kakashi felt embarrassed, but he felt like he deserved this, this punishment or whatever this feeling was. The only noise filling the apartment where the small clinks of glass begin dropped in a metal pan.

Roshi broke the silence, “ what has you hollowed away Mr. Hatake?” Her voice was steady and calm, almost nurturing.

Kakashi’s eyes grew wide for a second and then appeared once again lifeless.

“I..” it was still so fucking hard to admit. Because when he would say it.. then it would become real, “ I lost a loved one”

Roshi nodded, “ I see... I’m sorry for your loss” Kakashi’s shoulders fell, even though he had to keep still for her he just wanted to fall apart.

“If I may ask, how did she pass?” Roshi asked plucking out a very large piece of glass from the side of Kakashi’s ankle. He felt like his heart would stop any minute with how shallow it felt.

“I-I don’t know..”

Roshi cocked her brow before she could say anything Kakashi continued,” I remember waking up during the battle..she- she was on top of me. I- she died.. she bled out on top of me”

Roshi’s face grew grim, “ that is terrible, I’m so sorry.” She began working on stitches the deeper cuts at this point. Old woman worked fast.

“How about I put on a pot of tea,Hn? Then I would like to talk to you Kakashi”

Kakashi’s head perked up, it caught him completely off guard, using his first name.

“I would like that, Thankyou” he hated how disgustingly pathetic he sounded. He just wanted to shrivel up and die in complete honesty. Ms. Roshi finished stitching up the silver haired mans feet and ankles and had wrapped them in bandages.

“Put on these socks for now, you shouldn’t walk bare foot with fresh bandages” she tossed him a pair of fluffy grey socks. Kakashi slipped them on and Ms.Roshi eventually slipped to the kitchen for a short and and brought two cups of hot tea and set them on the coffee table. She took her place in an arm chair across from Kakashi and sighed. Kakashi blew gently on the hot glass and began to sip the sweet warm liquid.

“I remember when I first met you and Sakumo,”

Kakashi almost choked on his tea, he put the cut down on the table, “you knew my father?”

Roshi smiled and nodded putting her tea down as well, “of course! I’ve rented to Sakumo all of your life Kakashi, I was very close friends with Sakumo until the end, I remember tiny little you..and now look another Hatake is renting from me now.”

She smiled, “ Besides who else would rent to a man with such bad credit like Sakumo”

Kakashi scratched the back of his head. “Uuuh well..”

Roshi Scoffed, “Kakashi you don’t even have credit, so shush, I promised Sakumo I’d give you somewhere to stay, why do you think you rent is only $50?”

Kakashi sweat dropped, he was learning a little more than needed about his father now.

“I’m not going to sugar coat it Kakashi, I’ve lost my Husband, 3 sons, and 2 daughters.. all Shinobi, some fighting for the village, some becoming their own demise..” she looked at Kakashi with serious eyes. Kakashi’s mismatched colored eyes locked with hers in the subtle moonlight of the living room.

“I need to know if you’re going to be okay Kakashi. I’ve lost two sons to suicide, and I wouldn’t want the same to happen to a dear companions son”

Kakashi tensed up. No, he wouldn’t come to that point.. a part of him wouldnt fathom the thought of taking his own life, only from the fear of not having succeeded and having to deal with the aftermath. There was a sick part of him deep inside that wanted to give in and waste away. Kakashi picked his cup back up,

“No.. I couldn’t” he mumbled gazing at his reflection in the tea, god he looked like shit enough for someone to ask him that?

A huff came from Roshi and she crossed her arms. “Good. You’re a gentle young man Kakashi, I know everything you’ve been through has been hard- but you cannot be lead astray by violence and self destruction”

Everything she was saying.. resonate led with him. Staring blankly into the dark liquid refracting the gleam of moon light that had slipped through the window.

Kakashi set the cup down and got up from the sofa. He flinched, yes he could feel what the broken mirror had done to his feet now. What a stupid, stupid, stupid thing for him to do.

“Thankyou Ms. Roshi, I’m sorry about your wall,” Kakashi’s eyes glanced to his left where he could see a hole clear through the drywall.

“... I will fix it in the morning, Thankyou for everything.” He bowed his head to her and turned to leave.

“Kakashi”

He looked over his shoulder, his hand already gripping the door knob. “... please come and visit me more often, talking can help.”

Kakashi looked back at her and forced a small closed eye smile.

“Thankyou Ms. Roshi” he said quietly leaving the old woman apartment.

He closed the door silently and slipped back into his apartment where the bathroom light was still on. Making his way towards the bathroom he saw how much of a mess their actually was, blood, glass, chunks of drywall. It earned him sliced up feet and ankles and still.. nothing has changed.

Lol I hope you enjoyed, this is part one of three, inbox me suggestion and stuff.. please don’t be rude this is my first fic that I’m posting on this blog publicly.

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abalovesfic · 5 years ago

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The Demon, The Exorcist, and the Memory Chapter 1

We all do stupid things. And sometimes that stupid thing is posting an entire 47k fic at once... which then actually lowers people’s ability to see it because you aren’t posting on a schedule. A lot of my readership comes from Tumblr and I really, really need it. So why can’t I cross post already completed chapters? Leave your comments, hits, and blood offerings at AO3. Help me fix the mistakes I made against my baby! @transcendence-au ---------- Dipper looked into the cup of hot chocolate, his reflection cast back into the dark brown slurry. He looked the same as always, gold irises piercing back at him. Same sharp teeth and dramatic wings. Even after all these years, he never truly managed to change. “So what exactly do you do on your 5013th birthday? I think I’m a little too old for parties,” he said.

“Don’t be silly.” She grabbed a handful of marshmallows and forced them down into her cup, followed by three candy canes and a thick pulse of fluffy whipped cream. “You’re never too old for cake and presents. Don’t you have friends to hang out with?”

“Yes, but I’ve never told them when my birthday was. Sorta ruins the whole immortal demon thing I’ve got going on,” he muttered, tapping his claws against the side of the mug. “The only person who I’d even tell is Mizar.”

She chugged some of the hot chocolate, pulling the cup away to reveal a chocolatey brown mustache over her upper lip. “You should tell her. I think she’d like to celebrate with you: this is the big 5-0-1-3.”

Dipper laughed at her, just for a moment, watching as she tried to lick the chocolate away. “I’ve only found Fang a few weeks ago. We’re still adjusting to each other, you know? Fang and I haven’t really clicked yet. She’s been… difficult.”

Grabbing a napkin from the table, she rubbed the chocolate from her face. “Well it sounds like this could be a bonding moment for you and Fang.” She paused and chewed on a strand of her dark hair in thought. “I know it’s not easy going through this every few hundred years… but she is Mizar. A lot of things change between incarnations, but your connection doesn’t. So go grab a couple cupcakes and go visit her. I promise, she’ll see right through that scary demon exterior to your soft squishy core.” Reaching over, she bopped him on the nose with one finger.

Knocking her hand away, he laughed. “Cut it out.”

“Nope.” She bopped her finger against his nose again.

Dipper’s grin faded just as quickly as it arrived. Something sorrowful creeped over him. “And what would you want to do, for the big 5-0-1-3? After all,” he looked at her, the soft curls of her dark hair caressing her face, how her eyes looked so bright and awestruck. “It is your birthday too, Mabel.”

Mabel’s smile changed. What was once joyous turned to a thoughtful and sad glaze across her face. “Oh, Dipper.” Mabel wrapped one hand around his. Everything about her was intense, down to the texture of her fingerprints. He could smell the combination of perfume and hot glue on her skin, count the stands in her wool sweater, see every freckle on her nose. “I’m not really Mabel, I’m just a representation of her.”

“I know,” his voice broke, on the verge of a grief filled rage. “You don’t have to remind me every single time. At least pretend or something.”

His memory of her was perfect, concocted of every thought, every word ever spoken by or about her. The most precise image of his sister he could muster. She appeared in her late 20’s, soft bags under her eyes from the exhaustion of raising triplets, but also vibrant and full of life. Every time he came to see her, she wore a new sweater every time he saw her, generated from one of his memories. This one happened to be her pink birthday sweater, the one she initially planned to wear for their 13th birthday 5,000 years ago.

After a while it had gotten too hard. He had Mizar. Every moment with each incarnation was a new adventure. But it didn’t change the fact that there was only one Mizar he wanted to talk to. Only one Mizar who knew him for who he truly was. But the only place she still existed was in his own mind. And, after all, he controlled the mindscape. So who was to say he couldn’t rebuild her from his own memories?

Mabel slipped her hand up to his cheek and tried to force his gaze on to hers. “I know you don’t want to celebrate because you miss her. But she would want you to. I want you to.”

“But I want y̸̛͖̤̲̟o̶͛͐ͅu̸̡̝̪͕͂͗̂͠ ,” Dipper said, unaware of the snarl carving in his voice. “Don’t you get it? I’m so tired of going through this over and over again. I want m̷̱̑ͅy̷̝̤̥͕̐͛ ̷͉͖̞̕s̷̭̓̓ḯ̷̘̘̲̾̍s̷̖͑t̸̛͔͈̰̔͜ȩ̶̭͚͔̀̓̍̚r̷̡͚̜̪͒̋͝.̷͍̞̝̓̀͜.”

“Hey, snap out of it. Listen to me for a moment.” She had that big goofy grin he adored. “If Mabel had stayed with you all these years, you would have missed so much. Belle, Maddie, Marcia, Lane: all of my incarnations have loved you so much and you loved them. The universe is like a big sweater, sometimes you have to get a new ball of yarn. And now you have Fang as your new ball of yarn!”

He sighed, “Fang is a little scared of me, I think.” He shook his head, “Actually, I know she is. She doesn’t trust me yet.”

“Duh I’m Dipper,” Mabel did her best mocking interpretation. “I’m socially awkward and emotionally isolated. I have a hard time making connections with people and I use being a demon as an excuse.”

“I do not!” he retorted.

“Do too!” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Bro, you have to show her who you are. Being Alcor the Dreambender isn’t gonna cut it. You have to show her Dipper, the dorky nerd who plays card games and reads the same book 5 times just to make sure he picked up on all the details. She’ll be scared if all you let her see are the dark and violent parts of what’s happened to you.”

He stared back down at his reflection in the hot chocolate, haunting, dark, and eternal. “I’m starting to forget who Dipper is. It’s been so long.”

“Then let me remind you. Dipper Pines is the most loving person in the world. He’d do anything for the people he loves, including follow their soul around for eternity. He’s been a little broken down over the years, but it’s never stopped him from trying. I know this is hard. But you’ve never given up before. Don’t start now.”

His smile was faint, “Thanks, Mabes. You always know what to say.”

Leaning back, she crossed her arms and gave him a smug grin. “Yup. I’m a genius. Now go have a birthday party with Fang. Let her know that this is a special occasion and you want to share it with her .”

“I will.” Standing up, he gave her a kiss on the cheek and turned to leave.

“Wait!” She cried. He turned around. She pointed at his still full cup of hot chocolate. “Are you gonna drink that?”

“It’s all yours,” he chuckled and walked out of the Mindscape.

------

Fang sat on her bed, her usual clambering and shrieking emo/punk music vibrating through her bedroom. The array of all black clothing consumed her. The sleeves were torn away from her shirt leaving nothing but fringe and the muscled curve of her arms. She had her hair pulled into the signature, stumpy pigtails atop her head. She wasn’t paying attention, as usual, chewing on a piece of bubble gum and staring into her MagiOrb. The image appeared backwards through the holoscreen, though he could tell she was looking at a news article about the unfortunate dismembering of a child-sacrificing cult this morning, having been found with their organs separated from their bodies. Fang was nosey, that was for sure. Dipper sucked in a breath, trying to push down his nerves. He positioned himself at the back of the bedroom and rapped his knuckles against the wall 3 times to get her attention.

At first she was startled, obviously she was. He had surprised her and she was still getting used to him. Not just the way he looked or the faint terror that radiated from him, but the fact that he had become tangible. No longer a myth or a legend, but someone real.

“Oh uhm… hey?” she said, unsure what to make of his unannounced presence. Scrambling, she turned off the MagiOrb and tucked it beneath her pillow, as if to hide what she was looking at.

“Sorry, I know it’s not one of our pre-planned meeting times, but I wanted to see you today,” he said, still standing awkwardly at the back of the room. Unlike past Mizars, he had agreed not to blip in and out of her life at random. They made a schedule of days and times she was willing to meet with him, all of those meetings lasting no more than an hour, and she could send him away without question. He had also agreed not to approach her without permission. So he stood off in the far corner of the room waiting for her to motion him closer.

Fang gave him a confused but cautious glance. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine. It’s all good. Today is just kind of an important day for me and I wanted to spend it with you.”

Her shoulders hunched forward with curiosity. “What’s today?”

“It’s sort of my 5,013th birthday.” He gave a mild smile and nervous jazz hands, confetti spurting from his fingers and then disappearing.

“Oh.” She blinked her dark eyes a few times, lashes thick with clumpy mascara. “I guess I hadn’t considered that you would even have a birthday. Let alone that you would celebrate it every year.” She pressed her lips together, sitting in an uncomfortable thought.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I realize I just sort of popped in here and dropped this birthday thing on you. That’s weird. Like you said, demons don’t really have birthdays.”

“It’s okay,” she replied, a genuine sympathy curling into her voice. “No it's okay. I wish I had known, I would have gotten you a present or something. Now I feel bad.”

“Don’t. Really, it’s okay.”

He watched her inch closer, shuffling herself across the bed, wrinkling the blankets as she moved. “What sort of things do you like anyway? Beyond murder and eating souls?”

“Very funny,” he replied, a sarcastic spit to his tone. “But seriously, I do enjoy things outside of eating the occasional soul.” But then he softened for a moment to think about it. Mabel had told him to show Fang who he really was. He supposed this would be the way to do it. “For example: I like the top 40’s pop hits. And I love role playing games; the ones from the old days when you had dice and graph paper. I like the smell of pine trees, the real thing, not candles. Oh and candy; the good kind, not that loser stuff.”

“What are you,12?” A slight snort of laughter erupted from her.

“I’m 5,013 ,” he said and stuck his forked tongue out at her. This was the first time he had ever seen her laugh. After two months of scheduled meetings, trying to force just a little bit of conversation out of her, he finally got Fang to laugh.

“It’s just so weird,” she said, the laugh slowing in her voice. “I thought you were gonna say warfare or videos of people falling down the stairs. Maybe professional wrestling. Something a little more chaotic.”

He shrugged. “I don’t like any of those things. Okay, well, videos of people falling down the stairs are pretty funny but not in, like, a malicious way.”

Fang looked over at him, standing in the yellow lamplight in the back of the room. A pink hue flushed his cheeks. She reached out to pat the bed beside her, inviting him closer. He did so, not quite sitting on the bed but barely hovering over it and folding his wings up against his back. She still went rigid when he got close, but she held her ground.

“What about you?” he asked, leaning forward with his elbows pressed against his knees and chin resting on both hands. “What do you like?”

“Oh,” she blinked a few times, clumpy lashes sticking together. “I thought you would have rooted through my brain for that information.”

“I’m trying out this new thing called privacy. I hear humans like it.” She contorted her mouth in confusion and disgust. “I’m kidding,” he replied. “I know what privacy is. Despite what you may believe, I do have a sense of right and wrong.”

“I can’t help what I believe,” she replied. The silence hung between them as if sentenced to death on the gallows. And even though her music raged on with angry synth-drums and screaming lyrics, nothing could cover up the quiet between them. Fang sucked in a breath, looking away from him as if disinterested. “I like bubble gum, punk bands that say ‘fuck’, horror movies that are so bad they’re good, dunking all my foods in hot sauce, and…” she thought a moment, “killing demons.”

He must’ve turned a stark white. “Seriously? Well, that’s...”

She smiled, a subtle curve at the corner of her mouth. “I’m kidding. I can make jokes too. I mean, killing demons is fun, but I wouldn’t call it a hobby.” Her glance was sly and wry, a slip of her true personality slipping through her exterior.

“Are, uhm, you still going to exorcist training?” he asked.

He could see the pieces of her history strewn about the room, as if she left everything out in the open on purpose. Old demonology textbooks were stacked on the corner of her desk (you could tell they were old because books stopped going into print 2,000 years ago), a protection sigil hung over the door, all of her awards and medals for exorcism-training were displayed proudly in the same manner that other teenagers might display martial arts or science fair ribbons. There was a faint and lingering smell of burnt aromatics used to protect the home. Everything about Fang had been shaped and cultured to distrust him.

It was one of the universe’s sick jokes. First, to take Mizar away, keep her hidden from his sight for so long, and then to turn her against him.

The way Fang looked at him always seemed to be accompanied by a threat, as if she were counting the ways she could bring him down. “I am.” She said it so plainly, as if she meant to insult him with the mundanity of it. “Dropping out would be suspicious. I’ve been training since the day I turned 12, to stop so suddenly would raise concern in the community. I have to pretend like nothing has changed until I turn 18 and I can take my test to become a full exorcist. And besides,” she said. “I think I need it now more than ever.”

He perked up. “Does that mean you’ve given the whole Alcor and Mizar thing more thought?”

“I haven’t,” Fang replied, a cold snap to her voice. Dipper then realized she wasn’t talking about fighting demons with him, she was talking about fighting him. She was still worried he might betray her. “I just don’t understand this Mizar thing right now. I need more time to…”

“Adjust?”

“Yeah.”

“I understand.” His cheek puckered where he bit down on the inside of it.

Fang leaned back, using the palms of her hands to press against the bed and stretch out her back. “So,” she said, eager to keep talking in order to ignore the absurdity of her situation. “What did you want to do? Considering it’s your birthday and all.”

“Oh.” Dipper hadn’t expected to get this far. He thought Fang would have asked him to leave by that point. “I don’t know. It’s honestly been a really long time since I’ve celebrated with anyone. How do you typically celebrate?”

“I uhm,” Fang rested her cheek on her hand. “I don’t celebrate. My parents are usually too busy; not to mention they’re pretty terrible gift-givers. They always get me something related to exorcism. Seriously, for my 5th birthday they got me a copy of My First Demonic Dictionary . It had all sorts of fun words for kids like ‘circle’, ‘fire’, and ‘human sacrifice’. And three years ago, I said I wanted some new music downloads. So they got me 3 albums of Latin chanting.” Dipper chuckled a little at that, though Fang didn’t appreciate him mockering her misery. She punched him in the shoulder. It didn’t hurt. “Cut it out. It’s not funny!”

“Sorry, that's just a terrible present. Latin chanting is the worst . I’m more of a classics guy myself; like BABBA.” He cleared his throat, it was a terrible nervous habit, considering he didn’t have a throat nor did he have something to clear out of it. “So really, you just spend your birthday alone? No friends or anything?”

“No, I’ve never been good at making or keeping friends.” She sighed and leaned backwards so that her shoulder blades touched the back wall by her bed. “I guess that’s one thing we have in common. We’re both good at being alone. Huh?” There was a slight arc in her lips, a certain kind of look in her black makeup-rimmed eyes. Fang had the face of a silent film star; someone who had perfect control over their expressions. There was something coy in her face, like she had left a snare for him to walk into. She had him all figured out.

“What makes you think I’m alone?” he replied.

“Because you’re spending your birthday with someone you barely know. That sounds pretty lonely to me.”

He laughed to himself, a sharp-toothed smile spreading across his face. “You’re very astute, Fang.” Then his smile faded into something more soft and contemplative. “But we aren’t alone right now. And all I’d really like for my birthday is for us to try to be friends.”

He could tell by the pucker in her bottom lip that she was thinking. Letting out a breath through her nose, the tips of her bangs ruffled. “I guess I can try.” The deep brown of her irises looked nearly black as her dark gaze settled on his.

For the first time, the smile she gave him was friendly and the tide of her breathing became relaxed. Maybe things were finally starting to change.

#transcendence au

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enkelimagnus · 5 years ago

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Jonabelle: Monstrous

Sebastian!Jonathan/Isabelle fic, Canon Verse, Fight, Hurt/Comfort

Warning for self-harm, blood and mentions of violence

Sebastian and Isabelle have a fight after he hurts someone for her, and it sends Sebastian in a terrible spiral.

Read on AO3

Sebastian’s fingers were red with blood and he couldn’t stop staring at them. They were steady, not shaking or trembling as they should be after what he’d done. He barely even felt remorse.

He’d seen the man’s eyes follow Isabelle as she walked through the Institute. He’d seen the way he sneered at her orders, the way he shared looks with his colleagues and friends as she spoke. He’d seen the hunger in his gaze, he’d smelled the disgusting arousal the man felt when he caught her training.

He’d been doing that for weeks . Following her as she worked, staring at her like a predator. Sebastian hadn’t been able to take it.

He knew enough about lust as a weapon to know the man was dangerous. And he needed to be stopped. If it wasn’t Isabelle, it would be someone else. It was never one girl. It was always several, it was always monstrous.

He remembered Lilith’s lessons on lust and sex and love and how twisted it could be. Sebastian himself still had issues with his own lust and his own ways of showing love. They tended to be bloody, violent and not very… desired by the person he loved.

His fingers were red with blood and he pushed back the urge to lick them clean, to savor the kill. Even if there was no real kill to savor.

They’d stopped him before he could kill the man. Too fucking bad. The anger rose in him again, burning his veins. He could almost feel his eyes shifting to black, his power rising with the anger.

It was so hard to control sometimes. Often, he wished he could control it. And sometimes, he wished he didn’t have to. He wished the Clave would let him explode. He wished the Lightwoods would let him explode.

He stared at his fingers. He hadn’t been this violent in months. He hated and loved how good it felt to be mad and to be powerful.

He remembered the pale skin of the man, his face getting whiter even, his body stinking of fear. Sebastian took a deep, calming breath. The air didn’t smell like any particular emotion right now. Good.

Heels resounded in the corridor behind the door. His senses were heightened by his activated demon blood. He felt high on it, on the blood and the fear and the feeling of power that had come with grabbing the man by the throat and ripping his junk off.

Before Isabelle, before his new life, he would seek out a partner and fuck until the high wore off. He’d have broken them, or let them break him, depending on what he felt like. Sometimes even both in turn.

It was different now. Isabelle wouldn’t want to have sex with him after what he’d just done. He’d seen the look on her face, the one that made him shiver and the one that meant he’d fucked up really bad. He hated to upset her.

She took a deep breath behind the door and the key turned in the lock. The great wooden door opened and she stepped towards him. He couldn’t resist the urge to turn around and look at her.

There was blood on her tight black dress. He couldn’t see it but he could smell it. A shiver ran down his spine and he kept his eyes on her. Her dark hair, her tan skin, strong legs that he wanted around his waist and…

“Stop,” Isabelle ordered.

She knew what he was thinking. Sebastian winced. He probably had the same look in his eyes as the man had. Should he be ripping his own eyes out for that?

“Why, in the Angel’s name, did you do that?” She said, her voice harsh and cold. “Why did you think this was a good idea?”

Sebastian huffed. “He was staring at you. He was a predator.”

Isabelle crossed her arms. “I don’t fucking care. I don’t fucking care what you think you saw in him. You crossed a line!”

Sebastian couldn’t help but glare at her. “I protected you. I thought you’d be happy.”

Her nails dug into her arms and Sebastian tried not to focus on it. He tried to rein in the snarling beast in his mind. Was this what werewolves felt like?

“Happy?!” Isabelle exclaimed. She was so mad he could smell it. Fuck, it was intense. It hit Sebastian like a truck, the blood and the anger making him feel almost dizzy. “You maimed someone, almost killed the man, and now the Clave wants to put you on trial!”

Sebastian grinded his teeth. He didn’t give a fuck about the Clave. He wanted to be free, right now. He was high on blood and demonic energy and he couldn’t think of anything but riding that high.

“I don’t care,” he replied. “The Clave can do whatever they want. I was right. And you know that.”

Isabelle huffed. “That’s not the point. He didn’t do anything! You attacked him and almost killed him. That was wrong.”

Sebastian looked back down at his fingers. The blood was almost dry now, darker than before, stuck to his skin. He hadn’t felt this in months.

“I protected you,” he repeated. “That’s all that matters to me, Isabelle.”

He stood up finally from where he was sitting. Two steps below her, he was the same height as her, staring right into her eyes.

“I don’t need your fucking protection,” Isabelle hissed. “I’m not a fucking damsel in distress and I don’t want your protection. Not when you act like a monster.”

Sebastian opened his mouth and closed it again. He knew it was heranger speaking but… Isabelle had been the one person to never call him a monster. The pain of that cut through the haze of the blood high like an ice cold dagger.

He took a step closer to her, reaching to gently touch her arm, to apologize, but he couldn’t. She flinched away from him. Isabelle had realized what she’d said, but she didn’t apologize then. She looked at him with dark, angry eyes. Eyes that said, ‘I want to hurt you’.

“I see,” he replied, colder, pained.

She just looked at him. “You’re being confined to your apartment until they question you and put you on trial,” she added. “You should go now.”

Sebastian looked down at his hands. He felt the urge to scrub all of the blood off, to wash it all away. Isabelle walked away and the door snapped shut behind her. He stayed outside of the Institute, shoulders heavy, his entire body shaking.

Eventually, he turned away from the Institute and walked through the wards. He pushed his hands into his pockets, so if there were people with the Sight around, they wouldn’t see the blood.

The apartment wasn’t far, unfortunately.

The main room was quiet, as if the apartment knew what he’d done, what he’d said. He peeled off his clothes on the way to the bathroom, sweater and jeans hitting the floor on the way. The water wasn’t set to the hottest setting. Isabelle had been the last to take a shower here.

He pushed it to the hottest for himself and stood under the water until his skin hurt and his legs ached from standing too long. He stood there until he felt the burning, until he felt it cleanse the monster out of him.

Isabelle hated it when he burnt himself like this, she said it wasn’t good. But he didn’t know any other way to make it right.

It burnt brighter and brighter until he felt like blisters were forming over his skin, yet he didn’t move. He deserved it after what he’d done.

“Sebastian?” Her voice called out from the front door.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t know if he could. The pain was blinding him. Overwhelming him. Suffocating him.

She must have heard the shower running and guessed what he was doing. She was going to be so bloody mad at him. His nails scraped at his already abused skin, hard enough to draw blood. He couldn’t stop himself.

The door of the bathroom banged open. He could barely see anything, in between the water that burnt his eyes and the steam in the bathroom. He could see the general shape of her, beautiful and perfect, like an angelic apparition. She waded through the steam and he heard her pained cry.

“Sebastian!” She shouted, running into the shower. Her mouth pressed in a thin line as the burning water hit her skin and she turned off the spray.

Unable to hold himself for much longer, dizzy with the loss of the constant burning water, Sebastian stumbled down.

She grabbed at him, pulling him closer. Her hands slipped on his wet and painful skin, making him wince. It hurt. Everything hurt. He rested against her, soaking her dress. His face settled against her collarbone, nose against the soft skin of her throat. He breathed in as much as he could, coughing from the pain immediately after. She smelled like worry. Like love too. He wanted to cry.

She moved, grabbing her stele and reaching over to his thigh. She activated his iratze, the black rune shining golden as it healed.

Immediately, he could breathe a little better.

“I’m so sorry,” he croaked. “I’m so sorry, Isabelle, I’m so sorry.”

Isabelle shushed him, keeping him close and rocking him gently. He curled into himself, into her. His body was bigger than hers, longer for sure, but he felt so small. Isabelle’s hand caressed his wet hair, rubbing patterns soothingly onto his scalp.

The pain and the hotness left his body and soon enough, he was cold and shaking.

With one arm around his waist, Isabelle pulled him to his feet and helped dry him with the fluffy lavender-colored towel Sebastian loved.

He put on some comfortable clothing, sweatpants and a sweater and sat on the bed as she did the same. Her dress was soaked along with her tights and her underwear. She put on a large tshirt and some pyjama shorts, put her hair up in a bun and sat next to him.

Her hands were soothing on him.

Sebastian took a deep breath and reached over to touch her. She didn’t flinch away and relief and gratitude flooded him again.

“I won’t do it again,” he whispered. “I’m sorry…”

Isabelle sighed heavily. “I didn’t mean what I said,” she replied. “I’m so sorry. I love you so much, I just…”

Sebastian closed his eyes for a second. “I crossed a line. I know I did.” He felt so exhausted right now.

Isabelle nodded. “I won’t say that ever again. I don’t see you as a monster, Sebastian,” she promised.

“I know.”

And he truly did. He knew she didn’t see him the way the others did, she never had. Still, it had hurt more than everything else he’d been through lately. She’d crushed him, for a moment. Enough so the high dissipated and the pain took over.

“I’ll do better. I’ll control myself better,” he promised in return. “I… I’m sorry I don’t feel remorse. I still think he deserved it.”

Isabelle sighed heavily. “Maybe he did. Let’s hope the Clave will see it that way. I can’t lose you. Not when I’ve just found you.”

Sebastian took her hand in his and pulled it up to his lips. He pressed a kiss there, reverent, penitent, too. When he looked back up at her, she was smiling a little.

Underneath the tender smile, she looked sad, worried. He should be, too. The Clave didn’t like him and he wouldn’t bear to be taken from her side.

They both laid down on the bed and he shifted closer to her. She wrapped her arms around him and he rested his head against her chest, seeking comfort. Isabelle sighed, content. Sebastian closed his eyes, enjoying her perfume and her warmth surrounding him.

There was nothing that made him relax like her arms around him.

#jonabelle #sebizzy #isabelle lightwood #sebastian morgenstern #jonathan morgenstern #fic #mine #shadowhunters

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milly-plays-litg · 5 years ago

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Hi! For the ask ship meme uwu: 001: mortal kombat, 002: kuaitana and 003: my dear princess kitana. bye :)

Sure, dear anon. Thank you for sending this ask. Someone seems to know me, so, let’s go then.

001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my:

Favorite character: Kitana, hands down. She was my main since MKII, and I kinda related to her.

Least Favorite character: Kronika. She sucks as a boss. She is boring, plain and cheap, Shinnok is ten times a better villain than Kronika will ever be.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon):

Taleena (Tanya x Mileena), Kuaitana (Kuai Liang x Kitana), JadeLao (Jade x Kung Lao), CageBlade (Johnny x Sonya), Bireena (Bi-Han x Sareena).

Character I find most attractive: As for women, MKX!Tanya is hottest girl I have ever seen in Mortal Kombat. As for men, MK11!Kuai Liang is the most attractive man ever.

Character I would marry: Johnny Cage. He may be a jerk sometimes but I see why Sonya married him and I can’t blame her.

Character I would be best friends with: Kung Lao. It would be a real fun to have a wit battles with.

a random thought: I don’t care what everyone says, but alongside with Nintendo, Pokemon and the WWF (back in the day during the end of the nineties), Mortal Kombat was my childhood. Later I liked other fighting franchises as Street Fighter or Killer Instinct, but never with the same intensity which I loved Mortal Kombat. Maybe is for that reason that certain retcons saddens me.

An unpopular opinion: I don’t know how much of umpopular opinion is this, but I don’t find that the guest characters are a good idea, even if I understand the financial gain behind it. I look at both Joker and Terminator slots and kinda saddens me the fact that Havik, Mileena or Reptile could have been in MK11 roster instead of them.

My Canon OTP: Taleena. Even if it’s safe to assume that is nothing but a fling and that there is more sexual attraction than real feelings between them, I will forever ship Mileena and Tanya in a romantically way.

My Non-canon OTP: Kuaitana. No, I don’t ship Kitana with Kuai because they wear blue and are assassins. I ship them because they have a lot in common:

Both were literally raised to be assassins and became honorable warriors for good causes, like saving Earthrealm and aiding to defeat Shao Kahn.

In their transitions, both rebelled for freedom. In the old timeline, Kuai rebelled hinself from the Lin Kuei, so they wouldn’t turn him to a robot like Smoke. Kitana rebelled herself from Shao Kahn after she discovered her real origins and Kahn’s deception regarding Mileena’s existence.

It was literally confirmed that for being a Cryomancer, Kuai has edenian ancestry even if he was born and raised in Earthrealm.

Both have to deal with a brother/sister who went or is still nuts (Noob and Mileena).

Most Badass Character: Kitana, Kitana and Kitana. ¿Who dares to ditch Shao Kahn and lives to tell it?. None than the Princess of Edenia.

Most Epic Villain: The most obvious answer in terms of popularity would be Shao Kahn. But in my eyes, my choice is Shang Tsung. While Onaga and Shao Kahn are kind of brutes, Shang has the same means that also made other characters like Palpatine or Voldemort to be formidable villains: a scheming brain and cold blood.

Pairing I am not a fan of:

Kotal x Jade. I despise it, because Kotal is a total piece of shit in my eyes and I headcanon him as possessive, jealous and liar type of man (one of his intros with D’Vorah kinda hints the last when she implies that she bedded him). Jade can do waaaaaaay better than him. She does not deserve a supremacist git whose idea of a “uNiTeD oUtWoRlD” means the slavery of Edenia.

Liu x Kitana: is not that I don’t like them, but I was never fond of them together. Is the same feeling I also get from Baraka x Mileena.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Sindel and Mileena. The first was supposed to be a caring mother who tries to deal with her dark past as Kahn’s consort and not the golddigger that NRS gave us. The second was supposed to be Kitana’s evil twin who grew up with her and later hated her by irrational motives, thanks to NRS now, Mileena is a childlike experiment from Shang Tsung’s laboratory Flesh Pits.

Favourite Friendship: Kitana/Jade, Liu/Kung and Smoke/Kuai. Personally, I like when positive and healthy friendships are portrayed in media and despite of being known by being gory and violent, Mortal Kombat has plenty of healthy friendships.

Character I most identify with: Jade.

Character I wish I could be: Kitana.

002 | Send me a ship and I will tell you:

When I started shipping them: Long ago, when I discovered that I didn’t liked Liutana at all. I respect all ships, but Liutana is not my thing so I started to ship Kuai and Kitana since the days of MK9, later I found fanfictions/fanarts of them together which fueled my ship.

My thoughts: I love them and canon or not, I will ship them forever. As I explained earlier, they have a lot in common and I don’t ship them just because they wear blue.

What makes me happy about them: The fact they have a lot of things in common so I can ship them freely.

What makes me sad about them: Nothing at all.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: When Kitana is depicted as a Mary Sue or a lady-in-distress. If there’s a thing that I love from her, is the fact that she has a lot of shortcomings and is not a perfect human being.

Things I look for in fanfic: A lot of fluffy. This may be cheesy, but I love Kuaitana fluffy fics. Neither am bothered by NSFW (or lemons if you want) fics as long as they are well written.

My wishlist: Not going to lie, but I don’t have one at all.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: While I know that my ship is not canon, I’m not totally repulsed to Liutana, Liu is a cool guy who cares about Kitana after all. Just merely not my cup of tea. And if Kuai ends with Hanzo in canon, I will be okay.

My happily ever after for them: With Kitana ruling a free Edenia as Queen alongside Kuai as a Prince Consort while he reconnects with his edenian roots.

003 | Give me a character & I will tell you:

How I feel about this character: About Kitana, she is not only my main since MKII and my favorite character of this fandom, she was the first female hero that I truly liked. Words cannot describe how much I love her. Her story is one of the most epic in the Mortal Kombat universe. After she discovers Kahn’s betrayal she stands up against him by doing what she thinks is the correct thing to do.

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: I have shipped her with Jade at some point in the past and Kuai Liang. But Kuaitana will be always my very first ship regarding Kitana.

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: Her friendship with Jade. I love when positive female friendships are depicted in media. My favorite moment of them will be when Jade in MK9 literally defects from Shao Kahn after she witnesses Kitana being arrested after she discovers Mileena’s existence and the deception related from Kahn’s part.

My unpopular opinion about this character: Even if I like the idea of Kitana defeating Shao Kahn (after the hell she endured for his cause, he had it coming. He deserved to be humlliated by Kitana), I’m not fond of the idea of NRS of ditching her Edenian identity and making her Kahnum of Outworld. I will be forever positive to the idea of a free Edenia from Outworld ruled firstly by Sindel and later by Kitana after she inherits the throne from Sindel at some point.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: That her edenian identity were acknowledged by freeing Edenia when she killed Shao Kahn during MK11, and helping Sindel to rule her realm as a warrior princess with Jade or Ermac’s aid.

Favorite friendship for this character: Like I said before, Jade will be always Kitana’s best friend.

My crossover ship: I don’t have an oficial crossover ship for Kitana. But for some weird reason, I’m kind of open to ship her with Cammy or Rose from Street Fighter.

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ashes-and-ashes · 5 years ago

Text

Birthday Part 1

A bit of backstory to this fic:

So tomorrow (July 15th) happens to be the amazing Aly’s birthday! Seeing as she is one of the most incredible people ever, I decided that I was going to write her a birthday fic.

Of course I had intended for it to be pure fluff, but my evil brain doesn’t work like that. After an hour, I seemed to have 2808 words of angst, with very little fluff. And (despite Aly being the Princess of Angst) I was not sure if she wanted such depression on her birthday.

So, I split the story up! Here is the first bit of angst, and I’ll post the fluffy bit tomorrow. The fluffy bit is purely dedicated to Aly, and I’ll write an incredibly long and gushy post about her tomorrow. However, here’s the first angst and depressing bit - hope it’s okay!

@withrewings

Sirius was going to explode.

It was March 4th, a mere 6 days before Remus’ birthday and Sirius still hadn’t managed to produce anything suitable for his present. He had started drawing in January, convinced that three months was enough for him to create something good enough to give to Remus, but the days had rolled by and suddenly Sirius was left with a sketchbook of half-finished drawings and a looming sense of dread.

He winced, bending back over the page, ignoring the shiny charcoal film covering the side of his hand. His fingers ached from grabbing onto the stub, his back sore from being hunched over the paper for hours, but Sirius didn’t really care. He bit his lip idly, tracing the curls of Remus’ hair, the tilt of his chin, the hollows carved into his back and arms -

“Goddamn it!” With a snarl, Sirius stood, interrupting Marlene’s rant about the Slytherin Girls. He hurled the sketchbook to the ground; the back cover bent with a slight crunch as it hit the floor, the pages flipping open to reveal the sketch he had just been working on. “God-fucking-damn it!”

The others barely looked his way - Sirius’ outbursts were common enough now that everyone had gotten used to the swearing and yelling. It was late at night - they were the only ones in the common room. James bent down, scooping up the book with one hand, eyes still fixed on Marlene. “Go on Marls. What did you say to her?”

“More like what did you do to her,” Dorcas muttered. “No way that girl made it out in one piece.”

Marlene flashed a quicksilver grin. “I hexed her nose off. Completely. Transfigured it into the tiniest mushroom attached to her ugly face. God, they were so mad.”

James let out a laugh, throwing his head back; in the background Sirius noticed one of the twins (Either Fabian or Gideon - the light from the fireplace was dim, and he couldn’t quite pick out the details on their faces) hand a galleon to Benjy, who was sitting on the mantle. “Priceless.”

Peter leaned forward, eyes wide. “How long do you have detention for?”

Marlene shrugged. “Detention will last 3 months. But the tales will last forever. I’ll be a goddamn Hogwarts legend.”

“You’re already one,” Lily assured her. She tapped James on the shoulder. “Prongs. Want to give Sirius his book back?”

With a smirk, James held the book out to Sirius, the covers still open to reveal the half-finished drawing. “Oh right. I forgot.”

Sirius snatched the sketchbook back, flipping him off. “Oh, shut up.”

They were all meant to be discussing Remus’ party (Remus having gone to bed ages ago) but the hours had ticked away and they had planned absolutely nothing. Sirius wasn’t surprised - nothing ever seemed to work when everyone got together, except for a whole heap of snogging between Marlene and Dorcas, and James and Lily.

He scowled down at the sketch in his lap, the half-finished outline of Remus, silhouetted against a huge moon, the curve of his spine mirroring the constellations twinkling above him. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, the words bitter in his mouth. “I’m so screwed.”

Lily looked surprised. “Why? That one is beautiful, Sirius. He’d love that.”

Sirius shook his head, violently flipping to another page. “No! This one is...is…”

Dorcas raised an eyebrow. She was sprawled in a huge chair, legs dangling over the side; Marlene gave her bare legs a long look before winking at Sirius. “I think this one is pretty.”

“God.” Sirius groaned, slamming the book shut. “It’s romantic. It looks like we’re dating or something.”

Benjy snorted, swinging his feet from where he was perched on the mantle. “Aren’t you already?”

Sirius flipped him off; he could feel blood rising to his cheeks. “I’m pretty sure Remus is straight, Benj.”

“Only one way to find out,” Kingsley muttered; the room erupted in laughter.

“I say,” mused Marlene, “That you should draw him in an intimate position.”

“Maybe with a collar,” Fabian called, “And chains, black leather and fishnets - “

Dorcas laughed. “A gag!”

“You should draw me in that!” Benjy yelled over the laughter. “I’d love to be drawn in collars and chains and black leather fishnet stockings.”

“Oh shut up,” Sirius said. He scowled, staring down at his hands; there was a scar shaking across his index finger where his mother had broken it once. “You guys are absolutely useless.”

“Says the guy without a present,” Lily muttered. Sirius stuck his tongue out at her.

Gideon rolled his eyes. “Look,” he began, “Remus is...Remus. He’d love anything you drew him. Stop over complicating it.”

Sirius spread his arms out wide. “Over complicating is what I do, darling.”

Benjy snorted. “I’d prefer that you do Remus.”

He was definitely blushing now, Sirius could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, spreading over the back of his neck like a flood. He scowled again, running a hand through his hair; it was already wild and tangled, paint and God knew what else caught in the dark locks. “You know what?” he said, then paused. “I was going to say ‘Screw you all’ but I reconsidered because I knew you would turn it into something about screwing Remus. So go eat a bowtruckle.”

He could hear Benny’s voice carry, even as he turned the corner and started up the stairs. “Why don’t you eat Remus?”

Sirius scowled. “Fuck off Benjy!”

Sirius glares down at the paper.

He knew he wasn’t going to give this one to Remus anyways. It wasn’t even the drawing that screwed it up - the paper was crinkled from where he had grasped it, the lines smudged and faded, too intense and too bold. It turned everything into hard lines, points instead of curves, edges instead of sweeps. He knew he was wasting time, drawing something that he would never, could never show Remus but it lessened the tightness in his chest, made it easier to breathe.

He had 2 sketchbooks. The first one had a red cover, and he used it for all his doodles. Pages of simple things: wand tips and goblets, candles and flowers, spellbooks and cauldrons and hundreds of unicorns. He brought that one everywhere, kept it in his school bag, was always doodling in it until the book was finished.

The second book was black, the cover heavy and Sirius always kept this one under his bed, because who wouldn’t know? This book contained everything - a boy on his knees, broken fingers, a single burning piano key. Scars, hundreds of them, rendered in perfect detail, all torn flesh and blood and bones, the lashes seared into his brain. He drew fingers with scar marks and backs with claw marks and even the broken, bleeding figure of an angel with its wings sawed off.

And Remus. This book was filled with Remus as well, all the shattered, beautiful parts of him, all the scars and cuts and marks. He drew Remus crying, and Remus screaming and sometimes he drew Remus kissing him.

He stared down at the drawing now, splayed on the page in front of him. He had hesitated when he drew him and Remus, but once he started he couldn’t stop. The charcoal spilled out of him, bleeding onto the paper, and everything was the same. Two boys kissing, the desperation clear in the clenching of their fingers or the arch of their spine, mused curls and closed eyes and scars like brushstrokes on their skin and Sirius couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried.

He wondered, sometimes, what Remus would say if he saw him, if he peeked into that black sketchbook, saw every dark crack in Sirius’ heart laid bare. Everyone had their secrets, he supposed. His were just more open than most.

There was a rustling sound from behind him; Sirius quickly flipped the page. It was late at night, the room filled with the sounds of people breathing, dreams spiraling into the air. The nightmare had woken Sirius up, the fractured visions of his parents and Death Eaters, and he had spent the rest of the night drawing, filling up even more pages in the sketchbook. He glanced down and started; the lines he had made were so dark that the colour had bled through the page, leaving smudges and streaks and the delicate tracery of lines carved into the page in front of him. He hastily closed the sketchbook, pulling the red one onto his lap, opening it to a random part in the book. Damn. This one was of Remus too, a idle study of him sleeping, his curls framing his face with gold.

He was about to turn the page again when the curtains on his bed flew open. It was as if his drawing had come to life; Remus stood there, golden curls forming a messy halo around his face, his eyes half lidded from exhaustion. He yawned, running his hands through his hair. “You okay?”

Sirius shrugged. “Sure.”

Remus frowned. “You’re always so closed off. It’s like you’re hiding something. Keeping something locked away.”

Yeah, my love for you, Sirius thought, but he didn’t say anything. He shifted, pulling the covers up around him, focusing on his breathing. Remus shot hi a concerned look.“Nightmares?”

“Yeah.” Sirius’ hands tightened around the blankets. “I’ve been up for awhile.”

Remus regarded him thoughtfully, then pulled the curtains wider. He slid into bed next to Sirius, gently rearranging the blankets until his warm legs tangled with Sirius’ cold ones. “It’s like lying in bed next to an ice sculpture.”

Sirius forced a laugh. Remus was too close right now; he was certain that he could feel his heart pounding. “It’s like lying in bed next to a furnace.”

Remus laughed, the sound warm and rich. God, Sirius could drown in that sound. He shifted over, giving Remus some more room, twisting until his head was tucked under Remus’ shoulder. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, the air smelling of wool and pine and clean cotton -

“Shit,” Remus said. “Is that me?”

With a jolt, Sirius opened his eyes; the book on his lap had fallen, the pages splayed open to reveal the sketch of Remus sleeping. He swallowed, hard, fighting to keep his voice steady. “No. It’s the fucking Duke of Alytown.”

Remus punched his shoulder. “Shut up.” With a shaking hand he reached over, picking the book up carefully, tilting it so the light fell on the pages and illuminated the drawing. “Did you...did you draw this?”

Sirius resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His heart was hammering triple-time in his chest, like a huge drum - he was certain Remus could hear it. “Nope. I just fall asleep with drawings of you on my lap all the time. I actually commissioned Snape to draw this, you see - he would creep into our room at night and - “

“Jesus.” Remus’ mouth hung open, his eyes wide as he turned the drawing back and forth. This close Sirius could see his eyelashes, golden against his skin, so fine that it looked as if they were spun from spider silk. “God. This is beautiful, Sirius.”

“You’re beautiful,” Sirius said, then quickly snapped his mouth shut. Smooth, Sirius. Real smooth you fucktard.

Remus laughed, more in shock then anything. “Me? I’m not...I’m not…”

“Beautiful?”

Remus looked down at his hand. “Yeah.” He pauses, clearly struggling with something; his mouth twisted into a bitter smirk before he continued. “Just look at me. I’m...I’m ruined. I’m scarred all over.”

Sirius bit his lip, hard. In his mind he saw his back, the lashes standing out like lines of silver, raised and thick and livid. He swallowed, hard. “Sometimes the cracks are the most interesting part of a sculpture.”

The barest edge of a smile ghosted over Remus’ face. “But it’s still ruined all the same.”

If only you could see, Sirius thought, If only you could see how beautiful you are, how perfect you’ve become. If only I could draw you the way I see you.

He coughed; with a steady hand he tore the sketch out of his book, handing it to Remus. “Keep it,” he said, then shook his head at the shocked expression on Remus’ face. “It’s yours now. I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but I’ll just whip up another drawing.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, and a beautiful, dazzling smile raced across Remus’s face, making it look like the sun had coated him in strands of liquid gold. Beautiful, Sirius thought, and his heart gave a painful twist in his chest.

“Thanks Sirius. But I don’t…I don’t need this, you know. All I want is...is you, I guess. Your heart. I want your heart, Sirius. That’s all.”

Sirius looked down. “Anything for you, Re.”

He couldn’t stop himself from drawing Remus.

The black sketchbook was open on his lap again, a fresh page blank and empty. His hands were dark, coated in the shiny-grey of graphite, his clothes covered in the stuff. He had been drawing for ages without taking a break, his eyes dropping from exhaustion and yet he allowed the sketch to bleed out of him, splattering across the page.

He was almost done the black sketchbook, had only a few pages left. Usually a book would last him 6 months, but he had filled half the book in less then 3 weeks. It was like he was an addict, thirsting for something he could never have, lightning and thunder and rain echoing through his veins. He couldn’t stop himself now, even as he continued filling the pages, Remus staring up at him from every angle.

Sirius took a shaking breath. It felt like he was underwater, drowning in his feelings for Remus, threatening to blow him apart with every gasping inhale of air. He set the pencil to the paper, letting his mind take over, the curve of Remus’ eyes gradually starting to fill the page.

He remembered the first time he had seen Remus, 5 years ago, standing in the compartment of a train as the sun went down over the hills. He was with James, wild and rebellious because for the first time ever he was free, when the door had opened and Remus had stepped into the compartment.

There was something different about him, even back then, some ethereal way that Remus moved. He remembered how the light had hit Remus’ face in just the right way, casting his features into shadow, making him look like some beautiful bronze statue and all Sirius could do was stare.

There was always some part of him that had loved Remus, but it really hit him in 4th year. He had been playing Quidditch, backlog against the setting sun, and he had looked down and seen Remus in the stands and his heart swelled up and he couldn’t breathe. He knew it then, while hurtling through the sky on his broom, knew he would have given up anything to make Remus happy.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by a sharp crack; he had pressed down so hard on the pencil that it had shattered, pieces skidding all over his sheet. Sirius scowled, glaring down at the page - there was a boy on a broom and a boy on the ground, the light hitting them until it looked like a spotlight, wind whipping their hair around them. He swore, staring down at his hands - it was so obvious. All it would take was for someone to look at his book to know what he felt towards Remus. He couldn’t burden Remus with that, the unrequited feelings of a shattered boy. Remus had already been through far too much - Sirius couldn’t heap another load onto his shoulders.

But what if he did? The thought rose up unbidden. What if he did like you?

His mind flickered back, sorting through the memories of the year - the Train, Remus’ hands tight around his neck. The Christmas Feast, sitting together under the cold half moon. January, grasping onto Remus’ fingers, the desperation in his eyes as he began to change. Valentine’s Day, a single chocolate, a whispered conversation. Sirius, I…

“I what?” Sirius had said.

Remus shook his head. “Never mind.”

So many moments, so many hidden touches, and Sirius’ heart was pounding because what if? What if there was a chance?

He was gripping the sketchbook tightly, so hard that the cover was digging into his palms, scoring lines across his palm. Remus had told him what he wanted that night, didn’t he? I want your heart, Sirius. That’s all.

“My heart,” Sirius said, out loud to the wind. Slowly, his hands tightened around the sketchbook.

He knew exactly what to give to Remus tomorrow.

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inevitably-johnlocked · 6 years ago

Note

Hey! I was wondering if you’ve got any good Johnlock recs that focus a bit on soldier!John? I read a lot of your recs where they’re together before John goes to Afghanistan, but I just love BAMF!John!

Hi Lovely!!

Ahhh, I’m glad you enjoy my recs! I’ve not very many Soldier John fics, but let’s see what I got!

SOLDIER JOHN