#I’m in such a mood for this man to destroy me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clbrq · 7 months

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PLS DO MORE SAM AND COLBY SMUTSSS

DOUBLE TROUBLE - C. BROCK & S. GOLBACH.

warnings; HEAVY SMUT, fingering, oral (both receiving and giving), p in v sex, cursing/swearing, alcohol consumption, kinda like a tag team kinda thing but they don’t know about it LMAO just read.

minors dni.

-/-

You had always been attracted to your best friends. Not even in a strange way; you just thought they were both two good-looking men. Sam and Colby had been your friends since high school, your friendship dating back to when you were all living in Kansas. You can remember filming their vines, and helping them create ideas for their next ones. And when you all grew up, they both matured into two beautiful boys that you admired deeply.

Sam had a gorgeous smile, so contagious and relaxing. When he smiled, you felt happiness bloom inside your body. He also had amazingly, well cared for hair—his blonde locks were always clean and soft, easy for you to run your fingers through. His personality always lightened up your mood too, and the leadership side of him always brought you a lot stability.

Similarly, Colby was such handsome man, you almost buckled to your knees by just looking at him. He had incredible, ocean blue eyes that twinkled in the sunlight, bringing you ultimate joy when you caught a glimpse of them. Colby also, similar to Sam, had an unbelievably contagious laugh, that rang a cheerful feeling through you as the noise escaped his lips.

However, after the occasional one too many drinks, you often looked at your two best friends very differently. It was like the alcohol in you made you view your two friends in dangerously sexual manner. When you looked at Sam, you wanted him to carefully take care of you, make you feel good, but when you looked at Colby, you wanted him to absolutely destroy you. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help yourself.

And that’s exactly how you felt right now.

You were stood with a group of your friends, including Sam and Colby, surrounded by dancing, drunk people, enjoying the 10 million subscribers party they were hosting. They always hosted the best parties—the one’s where you somehow got the most drunk. Stood with you was Corey, Jake, Tara, and Aryia, all chatting comfortably with each other.

But, you couldn’t help your eyes as they landed on Sam, the way he smiled at the joke Aryia made, forcing a smile to land on your face simultaneously. He stood with his arms loosely hanging by his sides, and a structured stance, watching as Corey laughed at Jake doing something stupid.

A small voice from next to you pulled you out of your trance, “Come get a drink with me?” Tara grinned up at you, her small height making you giggle.

“Yeah, sure, I’m feeling too sober anyway.” You replied, walking behind her as you both grab a black cherry White Claw—Sam’s favourite.

Before you could crack it open and take a sip, the can was taken out your hands, “Hey!”

“What?” Sam chuckled, “Shotgun it. That’s way more fun.”

“And why would I do that?” You snapped back, smirking up at him.

“Because I said so, and you love me, so you’ll do it.” Sam stated, grinning back.

Rolling your eyes, you knew he was right, “Fine.”

“That’s my girl.”

His voice rattled through your brain as he grabbed a small knife, and placed it gently in your hands. You licked your lips as you punctured the side of the can and watched as it bubbled everywhere. Bringing it quickly up to your lips, you opened the top as you chugged the smooth beverage in front of him as he cheered you on. Once you’d finished the can, you threw the can in the bin as you caught your breath.

You turned Sam, feeling accomplished, “See? I did it.”

“Well done, but wait.” Sam replied, but suddenly approaching you. His thumb swiped your lip as he wiped away the access of the drink from your mouth.

Slowly, he placed his thumb into his mouth, sucking it clean from the alcohol that once remained. You watched in awe, as you felt your stomach flip, not only from the White Claw settling in your empty stomach, but how sexy Sam looked doing that.

“Come on, bet everyone’s missing us.” He dragged you back over to the group, grabbing two more drinks as you followed him.

Handing you another can, you stood next to Colby, feeling your heart rate instantly increase as you got a whiff of his strong, expensively alluring cologne. The smell was almost blinding as you breathed deeper due to how much this was affecting you.

“You alright, doll?” Colby’s voice whispered in your ear, his hot breath hitting your bare neck, sending shivers down your spine. His hand rested gently on your back as he leant down to talk to you.

“Yeah, just maybe need to sit down.” You mumbled back to him, not wanting to make eye contact with him.

“Let’s go upstairs, it’ll be quieter there.” He suggested, letting you lead the way as his hand stayed on your lower back as you both walked towards the stairs.

You and Colby stayed in silence as you reached his free, quiet bedroom. Colby shut and locked the door as you collapsed on his bed, shutting your eyes as your previous drinks were hitting you suddenly.

You felt eyes on you, watching you closely. Opening your eyes, you sat up to see Colby stood by your feet, observing your every move with a smirk on his face.

“May I help you, Mr. Brock?” You chuckled, shuffling closer to him.

“I’m not sure, can you?”

“What do you need?” You asked, innocently, wondering what was wrong with him.

“Well, ever since you walked through that door, Hell, ever since I met you; I’ve wanted nothing more than to rip your clothes off and fuck you senseless,” He admitted, his big hand making its way up to your red hot cheek, “but, since you’re my best friend, you’re off limits.”

“W-who decided that?” You blurted out, wanting nothing more for him to do all the things he just said.

Colby laughed darkly down at you, removing his hand while staring deep into your eyes, “Why? You want it?”

“Please.” You whispered, biting harshly onto your bottom lip as his touch lingered.

Colby didn’t speak but pushed you gently back onto the bed, and climbed on top of you, connecting your lips forcefully. The kiss was hot, and steamy, teeth clashing and moans erupting from both of your throats. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his lower half closer to yours. Colby moved his hips ever so slightly, grinding his obvious hard-on onto your clothed pussy.

“Mm, I need you.” You mumbled against his lips, your hands roaming through his brown locks, “Need you now, Colbs.”

“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath, sitting up to throw all his clothes off to the side, bar his boxers.

Colby then turned to you, slipping off your dress to reveal your naked chest, but your lacy panties underneath.

“God, you slut.” Colby whispered, grabbing both of your legs and placing them on his shoulders, “You’re practically begging me to fuck you with these on.” His fingers playing gingerly with the rim of your panties, making the arousal inside you grow.

“Please, Colby.”

“Please what?” He pushed back, wanting to hear you beg for him.

“Please, do something, touch me, please.” You whined, shimming in impatience.

Pulling your underwear off, Colby’s placed soft, teasingly slow kisses on your inner thighs, making sure you were absolutely begging for his tongue by the time he made it to your core. The way you whined and begged for him was enough as he placed his hot tongue against your aching clit. You cried out as he wrapped his pretty lips around your bud, sucking gently, taking his sweet time with you. You’d never felt pleasure like this as he reached his hand up slipped his middle finger into your clenching hole, curling them upwards, hitting the sweet spot deep inside you.

You arched your back, calling out his name as you grabbed onto his hair, pulling his locks, causing him to groan against you. Your pleasure increased as he twirled his tongue around your clit, occasionally giving it a small kiss, and then returning with his tongue. You could feel the knot in your stomach begging to tighten, the orgasm was about to hit you hard.

“Yeah, you gonna cum?” Colby asked, feeling you clench around his fingers, smirking from between your legs.

Only whining his name, begging him to continue with his mouth, he proceeded to do so. Colby flicked his tongue in a way that tipped you over the edge, the orgasm ripping through as you cried out loudly, not caring who heard. You twitched and writhed under him as ecstasy coursed throughout your body.

Standing up, Colby harshly grabbed your chin and pulling you in for a kiss, his tongue tasting sweetly of your arousal as it slid down your throat. His hand swiftly grasped your neck, kissing you roughly—he was clearly pent up.

“Bend over.” He demanded, pulling away from your swollen lips, a string of saliva and your slick connecting both of your mouths.

Doing quickly as you were told, you arched your ass into the sky for him, your pussy dripping with excitement. He knelt on the bed, teasing your spasming hole with the tip of his leaking cock.

“You ready for me, baby?” Colby purred, stroking your back, lovingly.

“Yes, Colby, please.” You winced, begging for him as you pushed your hips backwards.

Colby complied with your begging and slipped his hard cock quickly inside you, not caring for you to get used to his size. Crying out in both pain and pleasure, you gripped his bedsheets for support as he began to ram his pulsating cock inside you.

“God, you’re such a whore, aren’t you?” Colby taunted, his thrusts at a fast, yet steady, pace, “You’re so thirsty for my cock.”

“Yes, Colby, just for you.”

Colby laughed evilly from behind you, tightly grabbing onto your hips as his thrusts grew harder and deeper which each other. His rhythm so harsh, you were beginning to not see straight. He truly was fucking you senseless. You could feel another orgasm building up as he reached round to rub your clit as he pounded you from behind.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Colby announced, throwing his head back, squeezing his eyes shut as the pleasure washed over him.

Groaning out your name as he filled you up deep inside, your second orgasm ripped through you. You heard ringing in your ears and stars in your eyes as his thrusts slowed down. Soon enough, he pulled out as you collapsed onto the bed.

“You okay?” Colby queried, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Yeah, I think so.” You murmured, eyes beginning to feel heavy as he spoke.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep, still got a whole party downstairs.”

Agreeing with his statement, you sat up, sighing as you did so.

“Did so good for me, baby.” Colby whispered, kissing the top of your head, “I’ll grab you some water.”

Colby wondered off to his bathroom with an empty cup in hand, as you slowly began to dress yourself. Once he returned, you drank the whole cup he had filled up for you, erupting a small laugh from his chest.

“Now, as much as I’d love to stay here and sleep with you,” Colby started, helping you back into your dress as you begin to wake up a bit more, “People will wonder where we’ve gone.”

You nodded as you adjusted your dress, and then leaning up to peck his lips, “Thank you.”

“No problem, love,” He smiled, “I’m gonna head to the bathroom, I’ll meet you down there.”

“Alright,” You answered, watching him walk towards the bathroom once more, and then exit bedroom yourself.

However, as you walked towards the stairs, a familiar face exited his room also, and caught your gaze.

“Sam?” You questioned, unsure on what he was doing upstairs and away from the party, “What are you doing up here?”

“I needed a charger,” Sam replied, furrowing his eyebrows as his eyes lingered on you for longer than you wanted, “Are you okay?”

You were taken aback by his words, “Uhm, yeah, I think.”

“Do you need some Advil or something? You look like you’ve thrown up about 10 times.” He chuckled, approaching you.

“No, no, I’m okay. Just feel a bit lightheaded.” You lied, not wanting to admit you just fucked his best friend.

“Here, come with me, we can chill in my room until you feel better.” Sam suggested, grabbing your hand gently and leading you into his bedroom.

Déjà vu.

You and Sam sat on his bed, not saying a word as you made yourself comfortable.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I will be,” You answered, turning to face him, “Just not feeling too hot right now.”

“Well you look it.”

Your eyes widened at his words, not expecting him to be so forward, “Really?”

“Yeah, 100%, always thought so.” Sam smiled cheekily, looking deep into your eyes.

“You’re drunk.” You laughed, shaking your head.

Sam returned the laugh, “Maybe, but I know what I’m saying is true.”

The adrenaline from your quickie with Colby still hadn’t worn off as you leaned in to kiss Sam. Luckily, you had read the room correctly and Sam instantly took your face in his hands as he kissed back. Sam was a gentle, loving kisser—he took his time to make sure you were enjoying it as much as him. You moved over to straddle either side of his legs, and continued your kiss in the comfort of his lap.

“God, you have no idea how you make me feel,” Sam murmured against your lips, pecking you carefully.

“Let me show you how you make me feel.” You replied, boldly, slowly moving down his body towards his crotch, “Can I?” You asked, politely.

“Fuck, yeah.”

As you removed Sam’s jeans and boxers, you watched as his obviously hard member sprung up and slapped against his torso. You took it in the small of your hand, slowly jerking his dick as you kitten licked the tip that was already leaking with pre-cum. Sam got comfortable on his bed as you lowered your mouth fully onto his dick.

Sam groaned out loud a slur of curses as you flicked your tongue on his cock as you sucked him. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue helping you amplify his pleasure. You sped up your movements, knowing this would be killing him, and he moaned out your name in ecstasy.

“Jesus, you’re such a good girl.” Sam mumbled, his one arm behind his head, his cheeks red and his eyes screwed shut.

You smirked on his member as you knew you were making him feel good. Strategically adding your hand to the base of his cock, you jerked the bottom off as you sucked the tip, helping him reach his finish.

Unlike Colby, Sam quickly finished as he grabbed your hair, gently, in his hands, pushing your head down as he spilled deep inside your throat, cursing and groaning as he did so. As you swallowed his seed, and pulled your mouth off his dick, you sat up and faced him.

You giggled as he let out a shaky breath, “Jesus, you’re unreal.” He sighed, smiling at you.

“You’re very welcome.”

Sam beckoned you over as he pulled you in for another kiss, his hand beginning to travel under your dress and to your still wet pussy. You moaned into his mouth as he began to rub small circles on your clit, making you buck your hips into his hand. You were on the verge of your third orgasm of the night, when the door opening followed by a voice caught your attention,

“Hey Sam, have you seen—“

Colby stood in the doorway, a shocked expression plastered on his face, “What the fuck?” He shouted, “I just fucked you and then you hop straight on his cock next?”

“What? You just fucked him?” Sam exclaimed, shocked.

Oh, fuck.

dude i’m gonna do a part 2 dw and it’ll be the best tag team of the century. hope you liked this! sorry i didn’t see it sooner!! xx

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callsign-mayhem · 1 month

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heartbreak feels so good (part 1)

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader Word count: 8081 CW: Shitty boyfriends, angst, fluff, slow burn.

Your boyfriend's callsign is Viper, which is fitting. Bradley doesn't know how much longer he can watch this man destroy you, but luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait too long.

Use of Y/N, but no description of reader. THIS IS A MULTI-PART FIC.

After another day of having your feelings totally ignored by your boyfriend, you were looking forward to some alone time. Elijah was so hot and cold that you felt as though you were in a constant state of fight or flight, just waiting for him to either make your day or ruin it completely. Most of the time, it was the latter, and although good days with him were few and far between, they were enough to make you stay. See, you didn’t half-ass anything—least of all relationships—so when you were in something, you were in it. You told Elijah that much after your first date. You’d been sitting in the front of his beemer eating ice cream, having the first of many deep talks. Between sweet, sticky kisses, you’d told him that you were dating to marry. He told you he was, too.

He said, ‘I’m yours if you’ll have me, Y/N.’ And that was that.

And it was almost a year ago. You’d survived a somewhat tumultuous winter with him, desperately trying to cling on to the version of him he’d been during the summer. As time went on, he stopped putting his mask on, secure enough in your relationship that he no longer felt the need to pretend to be caring and considerate. The days were starting to get longer, and the weather was warming up again, but Elijah was so far from the man he was at the start that you might as well have been in a relationship with a different person. Every morning, you woke up with no idea what personality to expect that day, whether or not he was going to take all his personal drama out on you, even though you only ever loved and supported him.

Today had been one of those days, and as you finished up with the F-18 engine currently in pieces in front of you, you silently prayed that he wouldn’t text you asking to come over. He was also a naval aviator, but you were working on different parts of the base today. Thank God. Elijah’s callsign was Viper, fitting since vipers prey on small animals by envenomating them and watching them die slowly.

Coyote appeared behind you, helmet tucked underneath his arm.

‘Hey, we’re all heading to The Hard Deck for beers,’ he told you. ‘You comin’?’ You grabbed a rag and made an attempt to wipe some of the oil off. ‘I don’t know,’ you sighed. ‘I want to, but then I’ll have to bring Elijah, and I don’t really wanna see him tonight.’ ‘Why do you have to bring him?’ Coyote frowned. ‘He’s a lousy drunk and never lets you have any fun.’ ‘If he finds out I went out with all you guys, he’ll think I’m up to something.’ ‘Like gettin’ with me?’ He joked, wiggling his eyebrows. ‘Probably,’ you laughed. ‘You or one of the others. Or maybe he’ll accuse me of getting with all of you if he’s in a particularly bad mood.’ ‘Listen, if you wanna come, you’re welcome. We’ll just make sure nobody posts about it, and we’ll get you a fake moustache or somethin’.’

It broke your heart to think about all your closest friends having a fun night without you. Over the past year, you’d lost count of the amount of experiences you’d missed out on because you didn’t want to make Elijah upset or angry with you. The worst part was it was a double standard. He went out without you all the time, didn’t tell you where he’d gone or who he was with, and expected you to be okay with it. If you weren’t, you could kiss your peace goodbye; he’d spend the next week making your life a living hell, ignoring you entirely until you apologised to him for being hurt by his actions.

‘You know what Javy? Count me in.’ He grinned. ‘Thatta girl.’

It was hard to regret coming out when you felt this good. It had been months since you’d gone on a night out without Elijah, which was to say it had been months since you last enjoyed yourself. As you sipped your second sex on the beach, you mused that some kind of higher power must have been looking out for you because you’d yet to receive a single text from your boyfriend. Most of the time, when you spent the night apart, he’d call you incessantly. It was annoying, sometimes bordering on obsessive, and you didn’t need him to tell you he was checking on you, or rather, checking that you were alone in your apartment. That much was obvious.

Dating an insecure man was not for the weak.

You were sat at one of the high tables next to the window watching Jake, Mickey, Javy, and Reuben play pool. Nat was opposite nursing a beer, glowing in the golden light of the evening. Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up, smiling at the notification.

‘Rooster’s on his way,’ she told you. ‘He wasn’t gonna come out tonight, but I told him he didn’t have a choice. It’s not every day Y/N Y/L/N leaves the comfort of her apartment.’ You scoffed. ‘That’s not exactly how I’d put it.’ ‘No?’ Nat raised a brow.

You hadn’t drunk in months, and despite only being on your second drink, the booze had loosened your lips significantly.

‘No. It’s not that I’d rather stay home, it’s that staying home makes my life easier because then I don’t have Elijah breathing down my fucking neck.’

Little did you know, Javy had told everyone about your conversation earlier. Not because he was a gossip but because he was worried about you. It was rare for you to open up to the squad about your relationship, but it wasn’t hard to guess what happened behind closed doors. They all worked with Viper, for one, and they were familiar with his temperament. Not only that, but you dropped off the face of the Earth a few months after you started dating him, and it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

‘I don’t know why you’re still with him, Y/N. He’s an ass.’ ‘I know,’ you sighed, frowning into your drink. ‘It’s just not as straightforward as just leaving. I still love him. If I can make this work, I don’t have to start all over again with someone else.’ Nat nodded in understanding. ‘I get wanting to make it work, but at what cost? You don’t see your friends, and he uses you as an emotional punching bag. You can’t even come to the beach with us without him checking on you every five minutes,’ she reached over the table and took your hand. ‘He’s killing you.’

This was the first time someone had spoken their mind to you about the situation. While you already knew all of it, hearing it from one of your best friends hit home. Vodka made you emotional, and if not for Bradley, you would have broken down there and then.

He walked up to the table and engulfed you in a hug, practically pulling you off your stool. You pressed your face into his shirt, inhaling the scent of clean cotton and sandalwood. Half expecting Elijah to spring out and catch you in the act, you reluctantly pulled away.

‘Hey, Bradley.’ ‘Hey yourself, stranger. Can’t believe you’re gracing us with your presence.’ ‘I know, it’s been a while.’ ‘A while? Try six months,’ he glanced at your almost empty glass and Nat’s empty bottle of Heineken. ‘Can I buy you lovely ladies a drink?’ ‘Do you even have to ask?’ Nat retorted. ‘What’re you drinking, darlin’?’ He asked you. You smiled sheepishly. ‘Sex on the beach.’ ‘I can make that happen.’ He smirked.

Luckily, you didn’t have to come up with a response to that remark because he turned around and headed to the bar. You locked eyes with Nat, and both of you burst out laughing.

Just like that, all the negativity you’d been feeling dissipated like rain against hot tarmac.

Bradley came back with the drinks, and the three of you took the opportunity to catch up while the others finished their pool game. You shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were to find out that you’d missed a lot. Bradley had started dating one of the medics, but the relationship had crashed and burned almost immediately. He hadn’t bothered trying to meet anyone else since. Nat, after watching all her friends have such bad experiences in the dating world, had decided she was better off alone.

‘Honestly, I don’t blame you.’ You told her. ‘You should dump Viper,’ she said with a devilish grin. ‘And we can have a hot girl summer.’ Bradley laughed. ‘Can’t say I ever imagined you saying that, Nix.’ ‘Isn’t that what it’s called now? We can’t be that out of touch, surely.’ ‘I don’t wanna think about how old I am.’ You said, picking up your phone to see if you’d missed any texts from Elijah. You hated to think what kind of argument missing one of his calls would start. Nat and Rooster shared a knowing look. ‘It rings, you know? Out loud.’

Being this transparent was embarrassing.

‘I think I’m going to confiscate this for now.’ Ignoring your protests, Bradley swiped your phone and tucked it into his pocket. ‘If he calls or texts, I’ll let you know.’

You were tipsy enough not to try and take your phone back but not tipsy enough to be unbothered by the idea of Elijah calling and you not picking up.

‘If he calls, I need it back straight away,’ you told him sternly. ‘If I don’t pick up, I’ll never hear the end of it.’

Bradley rolled his eyes, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. He hated Elijah the most of all your friends. Perhaps sensing some tension, Nat slid off her stool and grabbed your arm, practically yanking you off yours.

‘Let’s go pick a song,’ she suggested. ‘We can get more drinks on the way back.’

Since it had been so long since you last visited The Hard Deck, she let you choose. You picked Rebel Yell by Billy Idol, your mum’s favourite. Admittedly, you’d been missing your home town a lot more than usual lately, perhaps because you were in such a weird place mentally. Things must be worse than you thought if you were considering running home with your tail between your legs.

As the night went on, you got drunker and drunker. Bradley watched with a bemused grin as you dragged Bob off to the jukebox again, since he was the easiest person to coerce into doing things. How Bradley wished it was him you were clinging to. Not that he was jealous of Bob—because that would be like being jealous of a puppy—he just desperately wanted to be the object of your affection.

While you and Bob went to change the music, Bradley struck up a conversation with Natasha and Reuben, who erupted into laughter when you pulled Bob’s arm so hard he almost toppled over.

‘It’s nice to have Y/N out, huh?’ He observed. Nat looked at him like he was the biggest dickhead in the world. ‘Come on, Bradshaw. He might be an ass, but she’s got a boyfriend.’

Bradley sipped his beer, desperately trying to come up with a believable response. Reuben smirked knowingly, which only made Bradley more annoyed.

‘I don’t have a thing for Y/N.’ ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night, man.’ ‘Come on, Payback. You too?’ Reuben shrugged. ‘Doesn’t take a genius to work it out. You look at her like she’s God’s gift.’

The reason Bradley looked at you like you were God’s gift is because you were, but nobody was supposed to know that.

‘Why do women stay with guys that treat them like shit?’ Bradley asked. ‘Depends on the woman,’ Natasha started. ‘But if you mean Y/N, it’s because she can’t do anything halfway. She told me earlier that it’s because she doesn’t want to start over with someone new, but I don’t think that’s it. She just loves so hard, and it takes a lot out of her. Why would she wanna start the process all over again if she already has someone?’ Bradley was incredulous. ‘Erm, I don’t know, maybe because he’s emotionally abusing her.’

You and Nat were close. In a way, she knew you better than you knew yourself, so she was the best person for Bradley to ask about things. Now, however, he was kind of regretting opening his mouth. Knowing why you were staying with a guy who treated you so badly didn’t make it easier to accept like Bradley thought it would; it only filled him with white-hot rage.

‘It’s not as easy as just leaving. She has to come to it on her own.’ ‘Yeah,’ Reuben chimed in. ‘You can’t convince Y/N of shit.’ Natasha scoffed. ‘Yup, and believe me, I’ve tried.’ ‘So what, we just sit around and watch him ruin her?’ ‘Y/N’s a smart cookie and one of the strongest people I know. She’ll come to her senses, and when she does, we’ll be here.’ ‘You know, I read somewhere once that you can’t save anyone. You can only hold their hand while they save themselves.’ Nat raised a brow. ‘Damn, Payback. That might be the wisest thing you’ve ever said.’ ‘Hey, why do you sound so surprised?’ ‘You really want me to answer that?’

Bradley had a lot to think about. Realistically, he knew there was nothing he could do. His only option was to let things unfold naturally and have faith that things would work out exactly the way they were supposed to. The only problem was, that sounded too much like ‘sit back and do nothing,’ which didn’t feel right either.

Bradley needed another drink.

In fact, he was just about to head to the bar when you came bounding over, dragging poor Bob behind you.

‘Roooooooooster.’ You cooed.

His heart just about melted when you started batting your eyelashes at him.

‘What’s up, Y/CS?’

Everyone else was watching the interaction expectantly, waiting to hear what you were going to say next.

‘You’re really pretty.’ Bradley laughed, hoping you were too drunk to notice the blush he could feel creeping across his cheeks. ‘Thank you. You’re really pretty, too.’ Nat, sensing the need to intervene, came around and gently grabbed your arm. ‘Hey, let’s get you a glass of water, huh?’ ‘But I need to tell Roo how pretty he looks.’

Bradley’s heart fluttered at your use of the pet name. He really didn’t want you to leave, but Nat was right. You needed some water and probably your bed.

‘You told him already, Y/N. And when you get back, you can tell him again.’

She started leading you away, and Bradley immediately missed your presence.

A very flushed-looking Bob took Nat’s empty stool. ‘That girl is somethin’ else.’ He murmured, pushing his glasses back up his nose. ‘I don’t think you should let her drink anymore.’ ‘I’m not her keeper,’ Bradley responded. ‘Can’t stop her from doing anything.’ Bob shrugged. ‘Maybe so, but you’re all she talked about. You and the fact that there’s no Fall Out Boy in the jukebox. Pretty sure she called it a ‘fucking tragedy.’’ Bradley leaned forward. ‘What did she say about me?’ ‘You know,’ Bob waved a hand dismissively. ‘You’re pretty. Her boyfriend is gonna kill her if he finds out she’s here with you because he thinks you have a thing for her.’ Bradley was at a loss for words. Reuben, however, was grinning like a fool. ‘What was that about not having a thing for her? Even her boyfriend’s caught on, man.’ ‘How many times do I have to say I do not have a thing for-’

An annoyingly loud ringing sound interrupted Bradley’s sentence. It didn’t sound like his ringtone, but the noise was coming from his pocket. It took him too long to remember that he had your phone in his pocket, and that it was probably Viper calling. Sure enough, when he took out your phone, he was greeted by a sickeningly sweet photo of you and your boyfriend on the beach. You and Nat were still at the bar, and he knew he should just let it ring so you could call him back later.

But something had a hold of Bradley, and he answered the call and pressed the phone to his ear before he could really process what he was doing.

‘Y/N’s phone.’

A beat of silence, then some of the most colourful language Bradley had ever heard in his life.

‘Who the fuck is this, and why the fuck have you got my girlfriend’s phone?’ ‘Y/N can’t come to the phone right now. She’s at the bar with her friend, gettin’ another round of drinks, and I just know hearing your voice would ruin her night. It’s ruined mine, that’s for sure. If you want, I can take a message, and she’ll get back to you in the morning.’

Reuben was nearly on the floor, trying desperately not to laugh in case Viper heard him. Bob had paled significantly, like he’d seen a ghost—or worse.

‘That you, Bradshaw? I just knew something was going on-’

Bradley hung up. The severity of the situation was beginning to hit, and despite the sick satisfaction he’d felt when he picked up the phone, he was regretting his decision already.

‘Y/N is gonna kill you, Rooster.’ Bob told him.

Nat made the sensible decision to cut you off, but she said you could stay out with them until closing if you promised to keep drinking water and stop fucking around with the jukebox. That was how you ended up in the corner of a booth with Bradley next to you to stop you from escaping.

Not that you’d want to escape.

Mickey had joined, and the guys were playing cards while you and Nat talked. She was catching you up on her life, and it made a change to think about someone other than Elijah for once.

That’s when it hit you.

You hadn’t checked your phone in hours, and you dreaded to think how many texts and calls you’d missed.

‘Bradley, can I have my phone?’

He set his hand of cards down on the table and reached into his pocket. When you reached out to take it, he pulled away.

‘Before I give this to you, I need to tell you something.’

A wave of nausea hit you.

‘What? What’s going on?’ ‘Viper called about an hour ago. You were at the bar, and I didn’t know what to do, so I answered it.’ Reuben leaned forward in his seat. ‘Oh, this is about to be good.’

You thought you knew what panic felt like, but up until this very moment, you had no idea. Bradley was lucky you didn’t throw up in his lap from the nerves.

‘What?’ ‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I wasn’t thinking-’

You snatched your phone from him, ignoring the kicked-puppy expression he was sporting. A slew of angry text messages that were borderline abusive greeted you. You skimmed them quickly, not wanting to read too many in case you started crying in front of the entire squad.

What started out as the best night you’d had in a while quickly turned into the worst. Your boyfriend's hateful messages reminded you why you never went out and why this was the biggest mistake you could have made.

The worst part was you saw it coming.

‘Move,’ you said, grabbing your bag. ‘Bradley, let me out now.’ ‘You can’t drive like this, Y/N. Let one of us take you home.’

Bradley sounded destroyed. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

‘Move.’

He nudged Bob, who stood up so Bradley could climb out of the booth. You were close behind him, and when your feet touched the floor, you nearly keeled over. Bradley reached out to steady you, but you shook him off.

‘Y/N. You can’t leave like this. How are you gonna get home?’

Ignoring his pleas, you made a beeline for the exit. Nat shoved Reuben into Mickey, trying to hurry them out of the booth so she could follow you, but you were surprisingly fast for a drunk person. Bradley was right about one thing: there was no way you could drive in this state. You ducked around the corner so Nat couldn’t see you and sank to the floor. Hot tears prickled behind your eyes as you did the one thing you didn’t want to do, but the only thing you could do.

You called Elijah.

He didn’t answer the first, second, third, or fourth time.

Half an hour passed, and you didn’t move. At one point, you heard Bradley, Nat, and Reuben talking around the corner, coming up with a plan for where to look for you. They knew you were on foot because your car was still in the lot, and since you’d disappeared so quickly, you couldn’t have gotten far. If the situation weren’t so tragic, it would’ve been funny that you were hiding ten paces away, and none of them could find you.

It was getting very late. People were getting in their cars and leaving or jumping into Ubers. Soon, your Jeep would be the only car left. You couldn’t face the daggers, and you couldn’t drive home, so you picked yourself up and took a slow walk down the beach to where the water met the sand.

What a beautiful night to have your heart broken.

There was no way Elijah would ever forgive you for this, no way you’d ever be able to

convince him that nothing had happened between you and Bradley. The sane part of you knew that it was crazy to feel guilty for simply enjoying a night out with your friends, but the sane part of you rarely won these days. The part of you that loved Elijah was always loudest and knew this could never have gone any other way.

You were just about to resign yourself to calling a cab when you heard someone yelling your name from the top of the beach.

You either had the best or worst luck in the world because it was Bradley.

He made short work of the distance, giving you no time to come up with something to say. He looked otherworldly in the pale moonlight. His hair was slightly mused, and the same insane part of you that loved what it loved was whispering at you to run your fingers through it.

‘We’ve been looking all over for you, Y/N.’ He sounded very concerned as he pulled out his phone and texted the others to let them know you were safe. ‘I’m sorry, I just needed to be alone.’

You hadn’t even realised you were shivering until Bradley draped his Levi jacket over your shoulders.

‘You needed to be alone, or you needed to call Viper back?’ The tears threatened to make another appearance. ‘It’s none of your business.’ ‘What makes you think it’s not my business? I care about you and don’t want to keep watching you get hurt.’ ‘Then stop watching!’

Bradley recoiled, and you immediately felt awful. How Elijah spoke to you like that day in and day out without feeling guilty was a mystery to you.

‘I’m sorry, Bradley,’ you sighed, pulling his jacket tighter around you. ‘I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just very drunk and very emotional right now.’

He softened immediately and seemed torn about whether he should let you stand there freezing or pull you close. You hoped he wouldn’t try to pull you close because you didn’t think you’d have the guts to tell him no. Good feelings had been so incredibly hard to come by as of late.

‘Why are you still with him, Y/N?’ Bradley asked almost pleadingly.

Wow. He didn’t waste any time getting right to the point.

‘That’s a loaded question.’ ‘I need you to explain it to me because it’s killing me.’

You thought about it for a moment, and Bradley waited with bated breath to hear what you had to say.

In the end, it was this: ‘I guess we accept the love we think we deserve.’

Until you said it out loud, this phrase held little meaning to you. Now that it was out in the open, it was very heavy. In the last few months you’d tried coming up with a decent explanation as to why you were staying with Elijah, and you fell short every time. Turns out all you needed to do was get drunk and have an honest conversation to figure it out.

Coming to the realisation that what you’d just said was true felt like being in freefall. Everything in your life was changing shape to fit around this ugly truth. The good things in your heart shied away in the face of this monstrous fact.

You didn’t think you deserved a healthy love.

Somehow, Bradley was more hurt by this than when you’d snapped at him earlier. He was staring at the ground, unable to meet your eye like you’d just told him he wasn’t worthy of love.

‘You don’t think you deserve to be happy?’

Hearing him say it was somehow even worse.

‘Apparently not.’

You were both quiet for a moment, and then, for whatever reason, you laughed.

‘This is news to me too.’

The waves crashed loudly, water lapping at your feet as the tide came in. You couldn’t stand out here having epiphanies all night.

‘Listen, Rooster, I need to go home. I’m sorry for snapping.’ ‘I’ll take you home,’ he said quietly. ‘But we should talk tomorrow when you’re sober. Maybe we could get coffee.’ You shook your head. ‘After tonight, I don’t think that’s a smart idea. I’ll probably be spending tomorrow trying to salvage what’s left of my relationship.’ ‘You’re not serious.’ ‘I am.’

He opened his mouth to protest but then appeared to change his mind. You watched as all the fight he had left in him dissolved. There was nothing left for him to say, and he knew it.

The irritating birds that constantly chirped right outside your bedroom window woke you up. It was too damn early, and your head felt as though it was splitting open. When you sat up, you were hit by a wave of nausea so strong that you had no other choice but to sprint to the bathroom, smashing into the corner of your chest of drawers on the way.

Which was to say, it was a bad morning.

After you had puked up the entire contents of your stomach, you jumped straight in the shower, brushed your teeth, and did your skincare. At least if Elijah showed up at your front door, you wouldn’t look like you got super drunk last night, even though he’d probably already guessed.

When you checked your phone, there were still no notifications from him, and when you called, there was no answer. This wasn’t unlike him, but it had been almost twelve hours since Bradley picked up your phone, and you would have thought he’d have something to say by now.

To distract yourself from your impending doom, you threw open all the windows in your apartment, made your bed, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher—all the usual morning tasks. It seemed a shame to waste such a beautiful Saturday, but you doubted you’d enjoy any of your hobbies when you were this anxious and hungover.

With nothing else left to do, you set about making some breakfast.

Just as you put your bagel in the toaster, somebody knocked on the door.

Your stomach twisted itself into an impossibly tight knot. You were rooted to the spot, unable to move until whoever it was knocked a second time.

You looked through the peephole, expecting to see Elijah standing there with his dark eyebrows knitted together in frustration. It was the only scenario that had crossed your mind, so when you saw Bradley standing there, you were very surprised.

You took a deep breath and opened the door, greeted by the warm scent of sandalwood once again.

‘Bradley?’

He was holding two iced lattes, which you were betting were vanilla—your favourite. Elijah hadn’t done that for you since the first week of your relationship.

‘Hey, Y/N. Thought you could use this.’

He wasn’t wrong. You ushered him inside, and he headed to the kitchen, where he

perched himself on one of the stools at your kitchen island. This morning, he was sporting one of his more toned-down Hawaiian shirts and dark jeans. His eyelids drooped, and you wondered if he’d slept at all.

‘I was just about to make bagels. Want one?’ ‘Sure, thank you.’

You busied yourself, putting bacon and eggs into a pan while he sipped his coffee, eyeing

you with the curiosity of someone who had come over to check you were all in one piece. Once he was satisfied that you were, he relaxed slightly.

‘Thank you for bringing me home last night. I really appreciate it.’ You told him earnestly. ‘You don’t need to thank me. You’d have done the same thing.’ ‘True, but still. And I’m sorry for snapping at you.’

Last night was gradually coming back to you in flashes, like a supercut. Each time you remembered a new detail, you cringed internally.

‘You also don’t need to apologise. Has he called you?’

While the eggs and bacon were cooking, you toasted another bagel for Bradley and buttered yours. Even though you’d known him for years and been quite close until you got into a relationship, you were struggling to admit that you were pretty much being ghosted. It was already hard to walk around on base knowing that everybody was aware of how Elijah treated you. When you didn’t respond, Bradley took that as a no.

‘Well, that’s his problem,’ he spat. ‘You did absolutely nothing wrong. Maybe if he were less of a control freak, you would have felt like you could tell him you were out with us rather than hiding it, and then he wouldn’t have found out the way he did.’

The toaster popped, and you jumped. It felt like somebody had run a cheese grater over your nerves. Bradley ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, clearly trying to reign in his anger.

‘I should apologise too,’ he continued. ‘I shouldn’t have answered your phone. It was a dick move, and I regretted it the instant I did it.’

You buttered the second bagel, put one egg on each of the bottom halves, and stacked two pieces of bacon on top before adding the top part. You didn’t say a word the entire time, and Bradley was starting to get antsy.

‘Y/N. Please talk to me.’ ‘I don’t know what to say, Roo. I’m struggling even to think straight right now. He knows it drives me fucking crazy when he’s having a go at me and doesn’t respond. I don’t understand why he does it, knowing how it makes me feel.’ Bradley sighed. ‘Because he doesn’t give a shit how you feel. He doesn’t give a shit about anything other than himself and how he feels.’

This wasn’t news to you, but again, it was more impactful to hear someone else say it out loud. Really, how long could you keep this up? Whether you thought you deserved it or not, you were starting to wonder if you might be better off alone than with someone who made living feel like walking next to a cliff with your eyes closed.

You pushed Bradley’s plate across the counter and picked up your bagel. Eating felt impossible, but getting through the day with this headache would be excruciating if you didn’t at least try.

‘Come and sit down,’ Bradley said. ‘It’s not good to eat standing up.’ Despite everything, you managed to laugh. And this time, it was a real laugh. ‘Why?’ A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘I don’t know. My mum used to say it all the time.’

You did as you were told, and you walked around the island, taking the seat next to him. The two of you ate in companionable silence, periodically taking sips of your coffees. This was how easy it should have been with Elijah.

When you were both finished, Bradley put your plates, pan, and utensils into the dishwasher. You were too tired to tell him to stop.

‘Thanks for breakfast.’ You smiled. ‘Thanks for being you.’

Bradley’s smile mirrored your own. Unsaid words hung in the air, but you didn’t know what to say. His leaving didn’t feel right, but if he stayed and Elijah made an appearance, he’d most definitely break up with you.

But wasn’t this radio silence all the confirmation you needed that things were pretty much over, anyway? You were starting to wonder if this weekend had all happened exactly the way it was supposed to. Your eyes were indeed open, that was for sure. Of course, you’d known that the relationship wasn’t healthy, but this weekend had really driven the point home.

‘Do you wanna go for a walk along the beach?’ You asked, hopefully. ‘We could grab some ice cream at that little place next to the arcade.’

Bradley didn’t just look happy. He also looked relieved that you weren’t asking him to leave.

‘I’d love to.’

It was a beautiful Spring day, perfect walking weather. Honestly, it was the last thing Bradley expected you to suggest, so he jumped on the idea before you could change your mind and send him home.

Because he really didn’t want to go home.

He’d sensed that you didn’t want to talk about Viper, and you’d yet to bring up your conversation on the beach last night. Bradley was beginning to doubt that you even remembered everything you said—all that nonsense about not deserving a healthy love. Bradley didn’t take you as a liar, which meant you believed that you weren’t deserving of happiness. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt quite so sad and also angry at the same time. So many emotions were warring for the top spot in his heart, and as a result, his brain was incredibly foggy.

A walk along the beach with you was perhaps the only cure.

‘Did you hear about Hangman?’ Bradley assumed you hadn’t. ‘No?’ ‘He’s getting deployed. He’s leaving next month.’ ‘How long is he going for?’ ‘Six months.’ You whistled lowly. ‘Damn.’ ‘I know. I think he’s looking forward to it, though. I sure am.’ ‘You know, I don’t think you hate him half as much as you say.’ Bradley chuckled. ‘Maybe not, but being nice to him wouldn’t feel right. Even after everything that happened on the mission.’

The two of you walked down the beach, chit-chatting about anything that came to mind. You were about halfway to the ice cream place when your phone pinged. Bradley guessed it would be Viper, but he never could have guessed what the message said.

It was a photo of you and Bradley walking down the beach, taken from behind. The picture had been forwarded to you from someone else.

E<3: always knew you were a slut.

You inhaled sharply, obviously hurt by the words on the screen. Not two seconds later, he sent another text.

E<3: PS: we’re fucking over.

The two of you had stopped walking. Bradley watched over your shoulder as you furiously typed a reply and deleted it again. You turned to face him, and his heart just about broke when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t need to say a word. He pulled you close to him, wrapping you tightly in his arms. You stayed that way for a while, sobbing into his Hawaiian shirt as he rubbed your back soothingly. When you eventually pulled away, the first thing you did was apologise.

‘There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, sweet girl. He’s the one who should be sorry.’ You sniffled. ‘I don’t know what to reply.’ ‘Leave it for now,’ he said. ‘We can go get ice cream, take a slow walk back to yours. Then I’ll help you think of something.’ ‘I don’t know if I feel like ice cream anymore.’ ‘Well, that’s too bad because I do. Ice cream is the best remedy for heartbreak.’ ‘Did your mum tell you that too?’ ‘She sure did.’

It turns out Bradley was right about ice cream being the best remedy for heartbreak. The two of you sat on the wall, watching the waves while he munched on a mint chocolate chip cone and you butterscotch. It was hard to tell whether it was the best ice cream you’d ever had or if it was because you were with Bradley. If you remembered correctly, you’d had ice cream from this same place with Elijah before, and it hadn’t been this nice.

Thinking back on your memories with him only made you want to cry, so you did your best to shove them to the back of your mind. Despite the fact that he was actually a very shitty person, he’d been a dream at the beginning, and that didn’t just go away. The happy moments didn’t just suddenly turn to ash, as much as you wished they would.

‘What are your plans for the rest of the night?’ Bradley asked around his ice cream cone. ‘I don’t know, Roo. I’m kinda working on a minute-to-minute basis right now.’ Bradley nodded. ‘Okay, well, what would you say to junk food run and a movie night?’ ‘With you? ‘If you want to. I just don’t think it’s good for you to be alone.’ ‘I don’t want you to feel like you have to babysit me.’ ‘Is that what you think this is?’ ‘No, but I don’t want to be a burden. Or a charity case.’ ‘Y/N, you’re none of those things. I always want to spend time with you. Just so happens I have a good excuse today.’ You frowned into your ice cream. ‘Okay. As long as you’re sure.’

The two of you finished your ice cream and took a slow walk back to your apartment. When you got in, the first thing you noticed was a framed photograph of you and your now ex-boyfriend on the side table in the hallway. When your bottom lip started trembling, Bradley picked up the photo, put it face down, and then proceeded to run around your apartment and take down any others. It didn’t feel like the same place you’d left a few hours ago. It was haunted by memories that would never look right in the light of day. Even the happiest ones from the start were tainted with the ugliness of his cruel words and actions.

‘This place is so depressing.’ You grumbled.

Bradley stood in front of you with a stack of photos and one of Elijah’s t-shirts.

‘It’s not. It’s your home, Y/N. We just have to pack away his stuff and put it all in a box.’ ‘An ex-boyfriend box.’ Bradley smiled sadly. ‘Yeah, exactly. It might be over, and he might be a dick, but it was still a big part of your life, and it’s important to keep the memories safe in case you wanna look back on them someday.’ ‘Or in case I wanna burn them.’ ‘That too.’ Bradley chuckled

So you helped him gather all the mementoes from your relationship and put them in an old Dr Martens box. It all looked pretty pathetic, packed away in a shoebox.

‘I found one of his hoodies and a few other things.’ You called from your bedroom. ‘Can you grab me a bin bag from the top of the fridge?’

You heard shuffling, and then Bradley was standing in the doorway holding out the bag you requested.

‘Damn, he doesn’t even get one of the nice Trader Joe's bags?’ ‘No,’ you giggled. ‘He gets a trash bag because his stuff is trash, and he’s trash.’

You weren’t really at the stage where you believed that just yet, but saying it was really satisfying, and it felt good to laugh. Fake it till you make it or whatever.

‘Want me to give it to him tomorrow?’ ‘Thanks, but I should really be the one to do it. I haven’t even texted him back.’ You thought about it for a moment and then continued. ‘Would it be cheeky of me to ask if you’ll come with me? Maybe Nat, too? I could use some moral support, and he’s less likely to make a scene if the two of you are there.’ ‘Of course I’ll be there. I won’t say anything unless you need me to or unless he starts. I can’t make that same promise for Nix, though.’ ‘I haven’t even told Nat yet,’ you sighed. ‘I don’t think I wanna talk about it right this second.’ ‘I’ll text her. Don’t worry about it.’

From your spot on the floor, you looked up at Bradley. The evening sunlight was streaming in through the windows, casting an ethereal glow around him.

‘You should change your callsign to angel.’ A look of pleasant surprise flickered across his handsome features. ‘Why?’ ‘Because you’re literally my angel, Roo. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’

Half an hour later, Bradley convinced you to go on a junk food run with him in the Bronco. He said tonight was a mandatory, post-breakup wallowing sesh because if you bottled up your feelings now, you’d explode later at a much more inconvenient time.

The two of you had been screaming along to all the classic breakup songs: All Too Well by Taylor Swift (yes, he knew all the words), Who Knew by Pink, What About Now by Daughtry… He’d driven the long way to the store because you got so into it.

Now, as you scanned the shelves in Target, you asked: ‘What is it about screaming sad songs that makes you feel better?’ ‘It’s cathartic,’ Bradley explained. ‘Helps you relieve the strong feelings.’ ‘You know a lot about heartbreak.’ ‘Well, I’ve had my fair share of sadness.’ You froze. ‘That was insensitive of me, I’m sorry.’ Bradley took the packed of Reeses Pieces from your hands so he could hold them. ‘Can you make me a promise?’ ‘What?’ You asked sceptically. ‘Promise you’re gonna stop apologising to me all the time. You have nothing to be sorry for.’ ‘Sorry.’ You smiled sheepishly. He shook his head. ‘That’s not what you’re supposed to say.’ ‘Okay, fine,’ you huffed. ‘I promise to stop apologising all the time.’ ‘Thank you,’ Bradley said, releasing your hands reluctantly. ‘Now, pick out five more things.’ ‘Five? There’s already five things in the basket.’ ‘Did I ask?’ ‘I’m gonna get fat.’ ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Wallowing means junk food, and I don’t know if you’re looking at the same basket I am, but that’s not enough junk food.’ ‘Christ Almighty, okay.’

He helped you pick out five more things, and then you headed to check out.

‘What movies are good for wallowing?’ You asked. ‘Well, we have to start with a couple of sad ones and then finish with a happy one.’

The cashier told you your total, and Bradley tapped his card before you could even get yours out. You gave him a withering look.

‘I would’ve paid for that. You paid for the ice cream.’ ‘So?’ ‘So we should take it in turns.’

Obviously, he carried the bags as well, and as you walked back to the Bronco, he couldn’t help but wonder if Viper made you take it in turns. If you were his girl, you’d never have to tap your card.

‘What’s your favourite sad movie?’ He inquired. You opened the trunk for him so he could put the bags in. ‘Technically, it’s not a sad movie. But there’s this part in Inside Out…Wait, have you watched it before? I don’t wanna spoil it for you.’ ‘The part where Bing Bong gets forgotten?’ You gasped. ‘How did you know?’ ‘Because it gets me every single time.’

The way you looked at him in that moment, like he had hung the moon in the sky—God, it was too much.

‘We’ll start with Inside Out,’ he told you, opening the passenger door so you could climb in. ‘And then we’ll think of something else.’

Without giving much thought to what he was doing, Bradley found himself buckling your seatbelt for you. You were holding your breath, and it dawned on him how easy it would be to kiss you if he were that sort of guy.

And as much as he wanted to kiss you, he was not that sort of guy. He wasn’t about to take advantage of the fact that some asshole had just taken a sledgehammer to your very beautiful heart.

‘Can we watch Bridge To Terabithia?’ You whispered.

Bradley hadn’t moved, and you were so close that he could feel your warm breath on his cheek.

‘Are you trying to break my heart, Y/N?’ ‘Yes. I want you to feel my pain.’

He was grinning the whole way around the car to the driver’s side and still grinning when he got in the car. You already had his phone in your hand, searching for more sad songs so you could continue your car concert on the way back to your apartment. He drove the long way again so the two of you could finish your rendition of ‘I Don’t Love You’ by My Chemical Romance, which Bradley didn’t know the words to. He tried his best, though, because you seemed to love it, and he couldn’t deny you anything.

By the time you got home, the sun had almost entirely set. While he set the snacks out on the coffee table, you went around lighting candles and switching on fairy lights. He’d never seen your apartment in the dark, and it was incredibly cosy. Even though it was relatively warm, you dragged all your blankets and pillows from your bed and made a little nest on the sofa. You were so adorable, it was hard to believe that someone could treat you badly.

If you were his girl, every night would look like this—except you’d be a lot happier, and there would be no tears.

Halfway through Bridge To Terebitha, you fell asleep. Bradley had been trying to keep his distance despite wanting to wrap you up in his arms, yet somehow—in your sleep—you’d ended up with your legs in his lap. He’d frozen at first, but once he realised you were dead to the world, he allowed himself to rest his hands on your knees. Really, it was that or sit with his arms crossed, and that would be silly.

For the duration of the movie, his attention flickered between you and the TV. Every time he tried paying attention to what was happening, his eyes wandered back to your peaceful face. He marvelled at your astounding beauty, the delicate way your eyelashes rested against the tops of your rosy cheeks. Bradley had always admired you, and you’d been good friends for years, but what he felt in that moment was something else entirely. By the time the end credits started rolling, he knew without a doubt that he’d set whole cities ablaze to keep you warm. Feelings as rapidly growing as his should have been terrifying, but Bradley wasn’t scared. Falling in love with you seemed to be as easy as wading out into a calm ocean on a warm summer’s day.

He knew you’d yet to learn that falling in love and staying in love should always be this easy. He knew it was going to take some time to convince you that you deserved healthy love, that the right person would never run away from you and keep turning around to make sure you were chasing them.

But Bradley was a patient man, and he would wait as long as he had to.

End of part one.

373 notes · View notes

mrsshabana · 7 months

Text

“𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞, 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮?"

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟐: 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Your village is attacked by a man-eating demon, killing everyone in his path. And unfortunately for you, your marechi blood attracts his attention. But instead of killing you, he has other ideas. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, violence, blood, oral sex, reader is on her period. ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.2k words

✧:･ﾟ→ Kinktober Masterlist

Gyutaro had spent the evening taking out his frustration on a small village not too far from the district. Having gotten into an argument with his sister earlier, he was in a sour mood and needed to destress. And what better way than to completely decimate a village of humans.

He had almost killed everything in sight when he smelt it. The smell of blood. There was blood all around him, but this blood was different. It was special.

“There’s a marechi here…”

His lips curl into a devious grin as he identifies the scent, immediately following it to the source. Marechi are no easy thing to come by, so Gyutaro counts himself quite lucky to have stumbled upon one.

The delicious scent leads him to your huddled form. Hiding behind the rubble of a destroyed building.

Your heart drops when you see him. The demon that killed everyone in your village is here to finish you off. You’re so afraid that you can’t even manage to speak, all you can do is let out pathetic whimpers as tears flood your vision.

He creeps towards you, enjoying the fearful look in your eyes. But he suddenly stops, glaring down at you with a raised brow.

“Where’s all the blood?” he thinks to himself. The scent of marechi blood is so strong, yet you don’t appear to be bleeding. A few bruises here and there but no cuts are visible from what he can see.

With a frown, Gyutaro crouches beside you and looks you up and down. His eyes trail down before a smirk creeps onto his face. Now he understands.

“Human,” he rasps, “what’s your name?”

His question catches you completely off guard. You aren’t sure if you’re more shocked that he bothered to ask for your name, or the fact that he hasn’t killed you yet.

“My-my n-name is Y/N,” you say through hiccups and sobs.

“Y/N? How cute…” he grins and grabs your face, “I’m Gyutaro.” His grip on your face tightens as he leans in closer to you, his breath reeks of blood. “Today’s your lucky day, I’m not going to kill you. So you can stop that pathetic crying now.”

“Wh-what? You’re sparing me?!” your eyes widen and you can’t help but smile knowing that your life won’t be ended tonight. “Th-thank you! Thank you so much!”

“You’re going to be my personal blood bank.”

Your smile immediately disappears, “B-blood bank?”

“Yeah,” he draws out the word, moving his body on top of you - caging you beneath him. “You see, you’re real special. Your blood is valuable to demons like me, makes us stronger,” he growls, “I coulda just killed you now and devoured every last drop. But I’d be able to get more outta you if I just drank from you every month…”

“Drink from me every month?” your face suddenly feels hot, “L-like my…”

“Your period, doll,” he smirks and licks his lips, “You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you? Or do I have to force you to open those pretty legs for me?”

A combination of terror and embarrassment washes over you. All of the things he is saying to you are so foreign, but you don’t have any other choice than to agree. Even though you really don’t want him to touch you like that, is it really worth dying over? After seeing so many people get brutally killed by him you’ll do anything to not suffer the same fate.

“Ok,” you nod, “You can… d-drink my blood.” Your voice shakes as you slowly open your legs.

“Good girl,” he coos - lowering himself down to your core and placing a hand on your thigh. He wastes no time lifting your skirt and tearing your panties off of you before tossing them aside. Your soaked pussy exposed to his hungry gaze. You’re so ashamed right now. Having grown up being taught that your menstruation was something to hide, especially around men, it’s hard for you to expose yourself like this to him. But he isn’t phased by it at all. And he most certainly isn’t disgusted. Just looking at the blood between your legs makes his stomach growl and his cock grow hard.

“So pretty,” he mumbles as he inches closer. So close that you can feel his warm breath hitting you while his hands have a firm grip on your thighs.

Gyutaro can already see the blood coating your lips and it’s driving him crazy. He has to taste you.

He moves his face closer and licks your folds. When the taste hits his lips he can’t help but groan, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head. It’s been so long since he’s had marechi blood, it’s taking all of his willpower to not devour you right now.

“Taste so good,” he goes in for another taste. Eagerly lapping his tongue between your folds and along your slit.

“Ah!” You gasp as he continues feasting on you. Right now you feel so sensitive, so his actions feel even more pleasurable. So much so that your fear gets pushed aside and you completely submit to him. Moaning beneath him as he has his fill.

His cock twitches in his pants as he eats you out. The heavenly combination of your pretty pussy and the taste of your sweet blood sends him to cloud nine. Not only is your blood the tastiest he’s ever had, but you’re also one of the most stunningly beautiful women he’s ever seen. He can’t help but slowly rock his hips into the ground as he eats you out. Not able to tear himself away from your addicting taste, but also seeking any friction he can get.

He wants to fuck you so badly, but he knows he’ll have time for that later. Besides, you’re going to be his little human pet after this. Your taste is so addicting that it’s able to distract him from the aching in his cock for the time being.

Once he’s licked you clean he delves his tongue inside of you, eager for more. His tongue is not like any you’ve seen before, it’s long and thick. Able to reach spots inside of you that even your fingers have never touched.

Continuously he burrows his tongue inside of you, then slides it back into his mouth to consume every drop you have to offer him. He quickly loses control, eating you like an animal.

And his ministrations leave you squirming and moaning in pleasure. When he slides his tongue into you again and feels your walls tighten around him, he moves his thumb over your clit and starts rubbing tight circles.

“That’s it, be a good girl and gimme more.”

His tongue and his fingers become too much for you, and quickly push you over the edge. Your orgasm hits you harder than ever before. Toes curling, back arching, and nails digging into the dirt. “Ahhh~ Gyu-Gyutaro!!” You yelp as your body shakes beneath him.

He holds your thighs still and continues to slurp away at your sweet nectar. Your orgasm causing more to flow onto his tongue.

“So makin’ you cum makes you bleed more?” he grins, showing off his blood covered fangs. “Then we’re gonna be busy all night.”

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyutaro smut #demon slayer smut #kny smut #gyuutarou #gyuutarou x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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mousy-nona · 3 months

Text

Chronicles of Cursed Cat Alastor

One day, the hotel woke up to see Alastor’s perpetual “on air” sign had been turned off. His room was empty, his coffee ice cold.

And in the middle of the lobby was a cat. Or what seemed to be the approximate shape and size of a cat, but with the strangest, most evil face any of them had ever seen. It grinned up at them and wagged its little stump of a tail, which made Charlie melt into a puddle of happy tears.

“Isn’t he adorable?” She squealed.

And that was that. The cat joined their weird little family – and Lucifer secretly resolved to get his daughter to an eye doctor. Stat.

—-----------------

“Charlie, are you sure about this one? There’s something weird about that cat.” Lucifer eyed the red thing warily. “It’s looking at Keekee like it wants to eat it!”

“Don’t be silly! Mr. Montgomery is probably trying to be her friend!” She frowned. “It’s so strange. Keekee’s never been this skittish around other cats before.”

A thin line of drool was falling from the edge of Mr. Montgomery’s mouth. When he noticed Lucifer watching, he sucked it back up and graced him with a freakish, utterly too human grin.

—-----------------

Lucifer’s wedding anniversary hit him like a truck. That is, he didn’t handle it very well. He got up, fully intending to make a show of his utterly fantastic mood – haha, look how great I feel! Your mother didn’t crush my heart and set it on fire with a flamethrower after all! – but found it was all too much of a bother, and sat promptly back down. He laid his head on his desk. Just a few more minutes. Then I’ll leave.

He didn’t even notice Mr. Montgomery had waltzed in until the abomination jumped up onto his desk. The cat loomed over him, his razor teeth inches from Lucifer’s nose.

“Can I help you?” He sniffled. Couldn’t a man mourn the end of his marriage in peace?

Mr. Montgomery tilted his head with a sickening crack, his neck nearly bending into a right angle as he studied Lucifer’s red eyes, the mountain of used tissues accumulating by the desk, the ring he was clutching in his hand.

Stretching leisurely (in the exact same way he learned from Keekee, Lucifer noted), Mr. Montgomery strolled over to a picture of Lilith he had on his desk – and smacked it off. He stared at him the entire time, as if daring him to do something about it.

“Are you…are you power playing me right now?”

“Meow,” Mr. Montgomery sneered.

“That’s it, you little freak! Come to Daddy!”

When Charlie got home, she found Lucifer with his six wings fully spread and the hotel half destroyed by angelic bolts, panting and wheezing as he tore a couch apart.

“Dad, what are you doing?”

He whirled around, his eyes wild as he zapped a vaguely cat-shaped shadow into oblivion. “It’s that monster! That cat! I can hear him in the walls!”

“Isn’t he behind you…?” Vaggie asked.

And he was. Mr. Montgomery was sitting on a shelf over the reception, licking his paw and yawning.

Lucifer deflated. “Ah. I guess he is.”

“Dad, isn’t today…?” Charlie trailed off, blushing a little.

“Oh! Right. Yes, it is,” Lucifer said. He’d been so busy chasing Mr. Montgomery around, he’d completely forgotten about his anniversary.

“Are you doing okay?”

He sighed and pulled her into a hug. “Yes, I’m fine. I was a little sad at first, but then I got distracted.”

“Burning down the hotel?” Vaggie asked. Mr. Montgomery meowed and started purring, looking as pleased as a cat that had gotten the cream.

—-----------------

“That cat is trying to kill me!” Lucifer roared, pointing at the wholly unrepentant Mr. Montgomery.

The accused murderer jumped onto Charlie’s lap and started kneading her lap. Everyone let out a collective awww! Charlie nearly teared up, and Angel Dust snapped a picture for his Voxstagram. Even Vaggie, the sole voice of reason, was making what the kids called heart eyes at the monster.

Lucifer nearly tore out his hair in frustration. “He’s tricking you, don’t you see? That cat has it out for me! This is the third time he’s tried to kick rat poison into my food!”

“Don’t be silly, Dad! He’s just a cat. Cats knock stuff over all the time!”

“Rat poison? Three times?”

Charlie looked around, frowning. “Who keeps putting rat poison on the shelves?”

No one fessed up. Mr. Montgomery let out a loud purr and fixed Lucifer with the most hair-raising, devilishly smug grin Lucifer had ever seen.

“Did no one see that? Seriously, did no one else see that?”

—-----------------

A few weeks passed before someone finally broached the question that was on everyone’s mind.

“Has anyone seen Alastor?” Charlie tapped her nose with her pencil, frowning a bit. “It’s strange for him to be gone this long.”

“Oh, oh! I’ve seen him!” Niffty raised her hand and waved it frantically. “He’s right over there!”

Everyone turned – but all they saw was a furry red blob warming himself near the fire.

“Niffty, doll, have you been sniffing the toilet cleaner again?” Angel Dust asked gently.

“Nooo, silly. The cat is Alastor!” Niffty chirped, clapping her little hands with delight. Mr. Montgomery – no, scratch that – Alastor blinked his left eye, then his right eye, and smiled blandly up at all of them.

“But…but…how?” Angel Dust stuttered.

She shrugged, her shoulders going all the way up to her ears. “Dunno. He’s got a few weird friends who like to play tricks on him. Isn’t it great? He showed up all fluffy and cuddly! Perfect for hugs!”

Alastor the Cat looked remotely nervous for the first time since he’d appeared.

“How do we turn him back?” Lucifer demanded. He would rather die than admit it, but he sort-of-kind-of missed the sadistic demon that made his life Hell. It was getting kind of boring without him around.

“Dunno! Ask him!”

Once again, they all turned to the cat, who opened his mouth – “Meeeeow.”

#hazbin hotel #alastor #cursed cat alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #crack fic #not an ask #but god i love cursed cat alastor so much #radioapple #well light hints of radioapple

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hirukochan · 9 months

Text

Ambushed

A Severus SnapexFem!Reader Oneshot

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Severus Snape x former student reader

Summary: After your former Professor murdered Albus Dumbledore a few weeks after your one-nightstand you never expected to see him again.

Warnings: Smut, catcalling, blood, injury

Wordcount: 5000

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

Life has become significantly darker since the death of Albus Dumbledore. You hear rumours of the Ministry falling, about Death Eaters taking over and You-Know-Who rising. From the perspective of the public all that hasn’t happened. Everybody can feel the change and taste the misery hanging in the air between abandoned and destroyed shops in Diagon Alley.

The rich fuck you work for is paying you extra because you decided to stay. You aren’t going to let yourself be scared into running away!

You started evening courses at a small university in Aberdeen a few months ago. Enchanted Art. For what? Hell if you know, but art sounded good. You however aren’t…good. Not at all, but it’s fun. You enrolled a few days after what you now call ‘the worst mistake of your life’.

Severus Snape.

Death Eater.

Murderer.

Newly appointed headmaster of Hogwarts.

And you fucked him. Just three weeks before he killed Albus Dumbledore, a man who trusted him.

The Daily Prophet and the Ministry are framing Harry Potter for it. There is a large manhunt going on with a bounty on Potter’s head. The boy has disappeared from the face of the earth.

You saw him at the funeral in Hogwarts. Many former students came to say their goodbyes to Dumbledore. You went out of shame and guilt. It doesn’t make any sense for you to feel like that. Neither did you know what Snape was planning nor did you support him in any way. And yet, just knowing you had that man in your bed is eating at you.

You sway and stumble but can catch yourself on the side of an abandoned building. Death Eaters have been attacking Diagon Alley for months, even before You-Know-Who came to power, but never your shop. You guess it’s because a second-hand bookshop is absolutely useless. You don’t even have many customers! The shop is not profitable whatsoever.

You rub your eyes and push yourself off the wall to continue your less than straight way back to your flat. You’ve been drinking with the Weasley twins who run the joke shop a few streets away from yours. They are one of the few shops still open like you. They were three years under you and always good for a laugh though you were never friends with them. Now out of school and in the same boat you get along well.

And drinking alone is pathetic.

You are pathetic, but not that pathetic.

Not yet.

You squeeze through an alley. Just another corner and you’d be there. You’re too drunk to apparate and apparition can suck it anyway.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out all alone?” A male voice calls out to you. You ignore it. You are really not in the mood to be accosted now and your wand might just slip.

You grip it tighter in your pocket. One could not be careful enough these days. Perhaps you should have taken Georges’ offer of walking you home.

“I’m talking to you!” He sounds angry now. Just fuck off. Just turn around and fuck off or better come here and give me something to let my aggressions out on. “Stuck up cunt!” You are whirled around by your shoulder and thrown against a wall. The air is pressed out of your lungs and your back aches.

The blurry face of a sleazy looking man comes into view but in the next second he’s gone. You blink. Your alcohol drenched brain needs some time to catch up. Then a scream rips through the night and you recoil. Everything in you screams to run. To turn around and take off, to save yourself, but your eyes are glued to the man on the ground, writhing and screaming, his body shaken by endless, never-ending agony.

Steps echo through the night and your head snaps up. A tall, dark figure moves towards you. Black robes, dark hair- for a second you think it’s Snape and you don’t know how to feel at that and even less how to deal with the sting of treacherous disappointment when you notice he’s too slim and too short to be Snape.

Moonlight reflects off a silver mask. You grip your wand tighter, terrified of what’s going to happen next.

A Death Eater.

A real fucking Death Eater right in front of you! And you’re still not running. Why the fuck are you not running?

“Tsk tsk tsk.” He clicks his tongue and shakes his hand. The man’s screams have stopped, replaced by a strangled, gurgling sound that somehow sounds so much worse. Your blood freezes in your veins and you start shivering. This is it. This is how you die. Drunk and on your way home. Just a street away! Away from safety, though you suspect that it’s a false feeling. A lie.

There is no safety left in Britain.

“Has your mummy never taught you, you mustn’t touch what isn’t yours?” He shakes his head and clicks his tongue again. A green light illuminates the alley. It paints grotesque shadows onto the silver mask and the wall behind him.

You scream. Shock and pain are ripping the sound out of the wall of your throat and haul it into the night. You cover your mouth with your hands. Tears sting in your eyes. You don’t want to die here.

Your heart pounds in your chest, strong and fast, declaring it has many good years still left, refusing to back down but also trapped by a rich net, woven from terror and dread.

“You shouldn’t be out so late.” The Death Eater says. His voice is slightly muffled by the mask, but he sounds young. So terribly young. Perhaps around the twins’ age? Did he go to school with you? You don’t recognise his voice, but you are in shock. Right? Yes, shock. He just killed someone! Like it’s nothing! To think you might have sat next to him in the Great Hall or the library…

“It’s not safe. Best run along now.”

You blink. Confused. He is letting you go? Why would he let you go? He rips his sleeve up, revealing a jet-black tattoo on his underarm, one that you’ve never seen before but recognise regardless.

“That’s a fucking order!” You flinch. And then you’re running. Running down the street and not stopping until you’ve reached the door to your flat. Your fingers tremble so much you struggle to get the key into the keyhole. You use every single protection charm you know on the door after you’ve closed behind yourself. You’ve gotten good at casting them. You had to.

“What the fuck.” You whisper to yourself, back leaned against the wall and wand clutched to your chest. “What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck!” A Death Eater just fucking let you go! He tortured someone for attempting to assault you and then killed him.

He fucking killed him.

You watched someone die.

What the fuck.

Oh Merlin and Grímhildr and god and Jesus fucking Christ!

‘Mustn’t touch what isn’t yours’ What does that mean? You’re not some object to be owned!

“Maybe he has a crush on me?” You think out loud. Yeah…maybe that guy really did use to go to school with you? Maybe he- you have no idea but what other reason would there be? Would a Death Eater disapprove of assaulting women? Somehow you find that hard to believe.

The incident does not leave your mind. You become paranoid. Always checking your steps and looking around for that glimmer of light catching on a silver mask. Often you’d look out of your windows, watching the empty street but you don’t see the young Death Eater again. You expect him to come back any day to finish you off

One day you arrive at the Leaky Cauldron after your evening classes tired and hungry. It’s a little after ten and you decide to eat in the pub instead of cooking. An hour later you step outside and apparate onto the steps in front of the door to your flat. You secure the door with your usual spells and kick off your shoes before hurrying up the stairs. You want nothing more than to collapse into your bed-

Something isn’t right. It’s the faintest difference. A smell that is not quite right. A whisper of magic in the air that does not belong to you. The small hairs on your nape stand and your stomach clenches. You grip your wand tighter.

There is something on your floor. A large black something.

“What the fuck?” You mutter and drop your hand to your side. “What the fuck? No no no- get the fuck up, Snape!” He doesn’t move. He is lying face down in a puddle of blood in the middle of your flat. Where did he come from? How did he get in? Why is he here?

You kick him.

It sounds like a logical choice in your head.

He doesn’t move.

“I have a Death Eater in my flat, on my floor. I have a dying Death Eater on my floor!” You panic. You are panicking. You kick him again. Nothing changes. “Shit shit shit!” You could just…kick him down the stairs and lock the door? How did he get in here?!

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-” What do you do? What can you do? Why is he here?

For lack of a better plan, you kick him again, but despite how gratifying it feels to let your aggression out on him you have to come up with a better idea. You can’t just keep kicking him!

Wary of the Death Eater on your floor you kneel down and press two fingers to the pulse point on his neck, ready to jump backwards at any point. His skin is burning up. What happened?

You can’t just kick him down the stairs. It’s tempting. He’d deserve it- but that isn’t you. Besides it would take the Death Eaters not even two seconds to figure out who left him there to die and they might come back to hurt you.

You heave him into your bed and peel the blood-soaked clothes from his chest. There is a deep gash across his side. Blood steadily runs down his pale skin. What happened to him?

“He’s a Death Eater that’s what fucking happened to him.” You scold yourself. “And you are fucking helping him- fuck! Why did you choose my flat to die in, Snape?!” You flick your wand at him, and his own wand comes flying through the air, landing in your hand. You shove it into your pocket.

Snape looks like shit. He’s thinner than a few months ago, his skin paler and dark, deep shadows have seemingly permanently attached themselves to the skin under his eyes.

The glorious Death Eater that defeated Albus Dumbledore.

You scoff.

“Good- that is that…disarming the Death Eater that is twice your size and can probably do wandless magic…or simply snatch them back from you because let’s be honest here - we aren’t a fighter!” You have no idea who you are talking to, but you feel hysteric and talking to oneself is what hysteric people do. Right? Right?

“Please don’t die here and start haunting me!”

“I’m not dying.” Snape grunts and you scream.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck- you scared the living shit out of me! What the fuck are you doing here?” Without bothering to answer you, he examines the wound on his side. He grimaces.

“I advise you against attempting that.” The deep, velvety rumble of voice makes you shudder in all the wrong ways. You keep your wand trained on him anyway.

“Get the fuck out of my flat!” You hiss, raising your wand higher, keeping it aimed at him.

“So hostile.” He tuts. “Did I leave you unsatisfied last time?”

“You’re a murderer!” Your voice is shaking, tears pool in your eyes and you have no fucking idea why you feel betrayed. You hadn’t spoken to Snape in five years before your one-night stand. But had you known…had you known he is a Death Eater you would have never let him into your bed.

“Yes.” Snape says and he somehow sounds bitter. What right has he to be bitter? “I heard you ran into some…trouble.” You shove your wand in his face and perhaps he sees in your eyes how serious you are, a faint promise of hexing him or something else, but he raises his bloodied hands slightly as if to tell you he isn’t a danger.

“Do you have a first-aid-kit? So I can get out of your hair.” You look at him, considering. You could make him leave. “I’m not a danger to you.” To you. To others, yes, but not you. You have no idea how to feel about that thinly veiled confession. You flick your wand towards your bathroom. Snape rummages through your first-aid-kit.

“Who the fuck doesn’t stock dittany?” He asks, glaring up at you while aggressively opening the fuckton of buttons on his robes. Who needs so many buttons?

“Why would I have fucking dittany? Sorry I did not expect you would choose my home to almost fucking die in!”

“I wouldn’t have died!” He sneers.

“Tell that to the puddle of blood on my floor. Why are you here?” He hesitates. His shoulders droop and he stops messing with his clothes. Something profoundly vulnerable flashes through his eyes.

“Where else would I go?” And that is that apparently. He peels back layers of blood-soaked clothes, and you try not to ogle him. He hadn’t taken off much of his clothes when he fucked you…

The moonlight hides the currently sickish undertones of his pale skin, making him look like one of those marble statues you’ve seen in a muggle museum once. His skin is littered with scars, a visual reminder that this man is a Death Eater - a fact your body is more than willing to ignore judging by the uncomfortable, damp spot in your knickers.

You watch him patch himself up from a safe distance, your wand pointed at him at all times. His fingers tremble, his skin is chalky pale and beads of sweat cling to his forehead, but his movements are precise and purposeful.

And yet-

You have never seen him like this.

Small somehow.

Vulnerable.

“I was told you were assaulted.” His voice is quiet, he usually speaks soft and quiet - a man like he never has any trouble getting a classroom full of hormonal teenagers to shut it. But today it’s different. There is something…inherently broken about the way he says the words and it gives you pause.

“So what? You decided to break in? Who do you think you are that you get to check up on me?” You spit the words at him because if you don’t, you might do other things and you really can’t afford that.

“That wasn’t-” He inhales sharply and impossibly enough pales even more. You summon a glass of water. “Thank you.” He whispers and downs the whole thing in one go.

“Wouldn’t want your cult friends to show up here because I let you die.”

“You should be careful what you say.” He doesn’t say it as a threat. He says it softly, with dread mixing into his worry.

“I thought you weren't a danger to me.”

“Plenty of people are.”

“Right…then. You know where the door is.” You nod towards it. Snape rises to his feet - far more graceful and steady than he has any right to with how shit he looks. He comes closer and you bite the inside of your cheek to resist the urge of stepping back. He comes closer still, his much larger frame hovering above you and any sliver of thinking Snape is small evaporates into thin air.

His silky hair falls into his face and hides it in the shadows of your flat, with only the moon illuminating the small space.

You take a shaky breath and attempt to ignore the heat between your bodies or the way your heart beats all wrong. His eyes have an intensity to them that makes you shudder and involuntarily recall how his hands felt on you…his breath dancing across your skin…the way he tastes-

“You still have my wand.” He says, his voice impossibly deeper and smokey and his eyes- these damn stunning stupid eyes that burn into yours, whispering promises of things you can’t even begin to wrap your mind around.

You automatically close your fingers tighter around your own wand. He is so close now the tip of it digs into his chest. He doesn’t even flinch. Like the threat of a curse does not even affect him, like he doesn’t give a shit that you could simply kill him right now or perhaps it’s arrogance. He believes you incapable of it - which is the truth but still! Is it asking too much to want him to be at least a little afraid?

Snape reaches out and his hand brushes over your side and you inhale sharply.

There must have been a lapse in the fabric of time - in the universe itself because suddenly you are kissing. You don’t know why or how but the wands clatter to the ground and Snape’s hands are on you and your body scream fuck the universe because this feels right.

Snape’s arms wrap around your smaller form and press you to his chest and you let him, weaving your hands into his hair while he claims your mouth with a feral hunger. You moan into the kiss and lean into his touch and try to smother the whisper in your head repeating the last two words you’d want to hear right now over and over.

Death Eater

You slide your tongue over his. There is a faint taste of iron in the kiss but it doesn’t matter. Snape’s fingers dig into your flesh like he is trying to devise a way to never have to let you go again.

He clings to you like a dying man to life.

Death Eater

He stumbles backwards and takes you with him, plopping down on the bed and pulling you into his lap. It feels natural. Your bodies fit together like two puzzle pieces and something somewhere in the universe just clicks.

You run your hands down his neck and over his shoulder, noting how much thinner he feels now compared to last time. You shove his frock and dress shirt down his shoulders. The feeling of his naked skin against your hands feels electrifying. A buzzing prickle seeping into your body through the pad of your fingers and spreading throughout your very being like blazing wildfire, pooling deep in your belly.

Death Eater

You moan into the kiss and grind against Snape, feeling his hard cock against your core through your knickers.

Death Eater

Two pairs of hands drop to his fly at one, frantically fumbling with buttons and stumbling over each other. Snape retreats and returns to thoroughly groping your arse under your skirt. You manage to free his cock and Snape helps lift your hips. You push your soaked knickers away and align his cock with your entrance.

“Fuck I forgot how big you are-” You hiss at the stretch. Snape kisses your neck and nibbles on your collarbone.

“Have you been with someone since-?” He leaves the question open. Further specifications aren’t needed. You are still slowly lowering yourself on his prick, until the delicious kind of stretch turns to a stinging stretch where you pause to give yourself time to adjust.

“-no.” You pant. Snape groans against your sternum and wraps his arms around you again, pulling you close. He kisses down your chest and over your breasts. Nuzzling you through the fabric of your blouse.

“Fucking hell-” You mutter once he is finally sheathed inside you. You’re out of breath and sweaty and so so full. His cock is throbbing against your inner walls, hot and thick and you need a moment to collect yourself.

“So good.” Snape groans and continues peppering kisses over your chest. You whimper in response. “You take my cock so fucking good-” He rips your blouse open and shoves your bra up, locking his lips around your nipple instantly. You moan and cling to his shoulders. Snape licks broad strokes over your nipple, alternates between sucking and kissing and grazing you with his teeth.

His lust-drenched sounds make you squirm in his arms and arousal leak over his cock, soiling his trousers.

It takes a little moment for you to get a hang of how to move on top of him, but once you’ve figured it out, you earn approving groans from Snape.

“Fucking missed you.” He murmurs against your skin.

“Did you now?” You raise a brow.

“I’m talking to your tits, dear.”

“You have issues.” You moan and sink back down on his cock.

“I thought we had already established that.”

“Yeah, when you decided my floor was the proper place to die!”

“Wouldn’t have died.” He groans and locks his lips around your nipple again. You cradle his head with your arms and rest your cheek against the crow of his head while bobbing up and down his length in an unsteady, unrefined rhythm.

Snape doesn’t seem to care.

And neither do you really.

The voice in your head shut up a while ago and you bid farewell to it, telling it to never come back.

Snape inhales sharply and you stop instantly.

“Did I hurt you?” You ask, unable to keep the worry out of your voice. Snape’s face is contorted in pain. He reaches for the footboard of your bed and his knuckles turn white under the force with which he holds onto it.

“Lie down.” You murmur and push against his shoulders gently. Snape looks at you both irritated and untrusting, but he eventually (less than gracefully) lowers his back onto the mattress.

You reposition yourself above him and lean back to brace your hands against his thighs right above his knees. Slowly you begin moving again. It feels awkward for a while but then you find the right angle and Snape presses his fingers against your clit, stroking tender circles over the throbbing bundle of nerves and pleasure overshadows any feeling of awkwardness.

“You’ve always been a fast learner.” Snape groans. “Such a studious girl.”

“When the subject interests me.” You chuckle and the corner of his mouth twitches.

“Am I an interesting subject?”

“Hmm…Certainly one I can’t seem to escape.” You raise your hips and sink back down, moaning in tune with the delicious stretch of his girth.

“Do you plan on almost dying on my floor in the future?”

Snape laughs, an uneasy sound accompanied by a concerning rattling sound coming from his lungs. “Are you planning on stocking Dittany in the future?”

“Nah, but I was thinking about getting a runner and- ow!” He slaps your thigh, not hard, but a pleasant sting runs through your flesh and the sudden slapping sound startled you. “Bastard.” You hiss and push yourself up, planting your hands on either side of his head, careful to avoid the dark strands of hair spread out around his head.

“Is that the thanks I get?”

“Thanks?” He hums. An expression of raw pleasure flickers over his face and it pulls you in, captures you like a fly in a sticky trap - and like a fly in a sticky trap you realise the danger you are in just by associating with Snape, not to mention by fucking him.

You never thought yourself to be a morally depraved woman but here you are, with the enemy quite literally in your bed.

An injured, weakened enemy.

As if you’d have a chance against Severus Snape no matter how weak he is! No, leave the heroism to other people, people that value their lives less or think the world will be grateful for their heroism.

You close your eyes and lean down to meet Snape’s lips, to get lost in the feeling of a warm body against yours, the mechanical workings of what a romance would feel like, to draw some comfort from a man that is willingly giving it to you when all other male specimens on this earth seem to not give a shit about you.

“Started University.” You murmur against his lips. Snape has put his hands on your arse and is helping your movement, pulling you and down on his cock, guiding your cunt or using it for his own pleasure or revelling in having a former student of his so messed up she lets him fuck her.

“I heard. I’m glad.” He mutters back and takes your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Keeping taps on me?”

“Only a little.” And it’s back to kissing. Wet, heated, burning kisses. And passion or maybe erratic obsession but if obsession feels this good what does it matter?

The heat of his tongue against yours, his hands squeezing your arse, his breath dancing over your face, his cock spearing open your cunt repeatedly, it collects inside you, runs through your limbs and veins and fills your whole body. You can feel it rushing alongside your blood, feel your body respond to it by picking up the pace of your heartbeat, sweet clinging to your skin, especially on your thighs that straddle Snape’s. It floats through your body and eventually pools in your lower belly and deep inside your cunt, welcoming Snape’s prick on each thrust by splitting into two and regenerating like cell division-

Heat grows and morphs and hardens into a brooding mass that threatens to rip free of you. It scratches against your insides, searching desperately for a way out, a way to release this pressure and then Snape presses his thumb down on your clit and it rips free of you. Snape thrust up into you in one hard stroke and he groans, his grip on your arse tightening and you collapse above him and he pulls you down by putting his arms around your torso - his wound long forgotten by both of you.

His cock throbs as he spills inside you, splatters of warm, sticky cum painting your inner walls and with a content hum you rock against his softening cock to relish the last flickers of your orgasm.

Snape grunts - a pained one this time - and you push your trembling body up and lift your hips to sit down on the bed next to him. His now limp cock slips out of you and you hate that you miss the feeling of it, hate the emptiness left behind. You pull your knees to your chest and lean against the headboard of your bed, staring at the window just to not look at Snape.

“I-” Snape begins but stops himself. With another pained grunt he sits up and does the many buttons of his clothes back up. He sighs and rubs his hands over his face, raking through his hair. “I will try to not almost die on your floor again.”

“Good.” You want to sound stern, but it comes out sounding exhausted and confused.

“Good.” He murmurs. A knock on your door rips you from your thoughts. Who would knock so late? Perhaps it’s your elderly neighbour…

You pick your wand up from the floor and fix your skirt and blouse and walk towards the door.

Still caught in a whirlwind of confusing and contradicting feelings and perhaps Snape’s presence has led you to let down your guard a little, whatever it is you forget to cast your detection charms before opening the door-

Silver glimmers in the moonlight. You recognise the mask. It’s the young Death Eater that killed the man who wanted to assault you. He is flanked by two taller Death Eaters. Whatever you had wanted to say gets stuck in your throat as it swells shut. Just out of their sight you grip your wand tighter.

“Miss.” The young one says. “Apologies for the interruption.” Why the fuck is a Death Eater addressing you so polite? Movement behind you catches your attention but you don’t dare move.

“Was I not clear enough when I said this shop is not to be disturbed.” Snape drawls and all hints of pain or injury have left his voice. He looms behind you, tall and menacing and you can actually see the taller Death Eaters shrink back.

“My mistake. Again, apologies, Miss. Your presence is requested, Sir.” The younger one says to Snape.

“Do not repeat it in the future.” Snape scoffs. He ignores them and closes the door.

You can’t seem to find your voice again.

“This all will be over soon.”

“How do you know?” You whisper, uncertain what Snape means. What will be over? The resistance? You-Know-Who? His presence in your life?

“I hope you won’t have to see me again.” His lips brush your forehead ever so slightly, his fingertips dancing over your arms.

He turns to leave.

“Snape-” You don’t know what to say. His eyes linger on you for a moment, you think to see something flash in them, a hint of some deeply buried emotion but then he turns, opens the door again and he is gone.

You lean your forehead against the smooth wood. You can still feel his touch lingering-

A sob tears through the silence and you press your hand to your mouth as you sink to the floor and you don’t even know why. You kneel on the floor in front of your door and sob and cry.

When you eventually regain your composure and return to your flat you are met with the sight of drying blood…

The next day you go to the apothecary down the street and buy a bottle of Dittany.

| Part 3 |

#severus snape x reader #ao3 fanfic #snape x reader #snape x you #severus snape smut #dividers by cafekitsune

723 notes · View notes

darkbluekies · 11 months

Text

P.O.V

Mafia!yandere OC x reader x mobboss

Summary: kidnapped by Silas’s rival, you're forced to see Silas's dark world from a point of view he never wanted you to witness

Warnings: yandere, kidnapping, gore, mentions of violation, mentions of nsfw?, violence, crime, manipulation, reader breaking, self guilt, angst, blackmail (let me know if i should add more)

Word count: 4.1k

“Let me go!” you shout as you struggle against the two men holding each of your arms in a painful grip.

“Be silent”, one of them demands, “or I’ll cut your tongue off.”

You’re pushed down on your knees on polished, wooden floor. Quickly, you look around in the room you’ve been forced into. Is it an office? A living room? Just an hour ago, you were in the backseat of Silas’s car, waiting for him to finish a mission. You had been alone with two drivers who got shot before you could process it. It all went downhill from there.

A man walking from behind a desk catches your attention. He looks to be around Silas’s age with dark hair, dimples and piercing, blue eyes that makes you shrink.

“So this is Silas little playmate”, he smiles and grabs your chin to get a better look at you.

Your neck strains. The man snickers and touches your lip with his thumb, almost waiting for you to open your mouth. If he forces his thumb past your lips, you’re going to bite him. Hard. Thankfully, he doesn’t. He crouches down in front of you and tilts his head.

“You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?” he asks tauntingly and caresses your cheek.

You remember how terrified you were when you first came to Silas, how you barely dared to move. But now, after getting kidnapped a second time, you feel a bit bolder. You’ve already been put through hell and back, what more do you have to lose? You slap his hand away with a glare.

“Feisty too”, he chuckles. “You’ll regret that, bunny.”

“What do you want?” you spit out.

“I brought you here because your boyfriend hasn’t done his part of our agreement and I am sick of waiting.”

“What agreement?”

“Just a simple business thing. Not much to fuss about … however, your boyfriend didn’t give me what I asked for after I gave him what he wanted. So … I took something he liked to trade for my part of the agreement. This time he has to fulfill his part.”

You take a deep breath. Silas will just have to come get you and then it’ll all be over. Everything will be okay.

“But … I’m in the mood to kid around a little”, the man says in amusement. “I’m tired of Silas seeing me as a joke … send him one of his little playmate’s fingers.”

You flinch as your eyes widen. Quickly, you shoot up from the floor and you sprint towards the door in hopes of somehow saving yourself. The two men who dragged you in manage to grab you. You scream, kick and fight. On the leader’s signal, they let you go.The force makes you fly into the brick wall, hitting your elbow and head in the process. There’s a burning pain you have no time to care for. You sink down on the floor, pressing your body close to the wall, body trembling. Fear has crept into your heart by now.

“I thought you’d be more brave”, the leader says. “Aren’t you the partner of a mob boss? Haven’t you already seen all the horrible stuff he does? Hasn’t he done them to you? Or is he the type to hide it all from his sweet, little, innocent darling? Answer.”

“He … he doesn’t show”, you stutter and swallow air.

“Well, I am going to. I am going to ruin you for him. If he wants you all innocent and pure, I’m going to make sure he gets a destroyed partner back. That will make him second guess trying to mess with me in the future.”

You’re sure that your heart has sunken down to your stomach. If there’s something you’ve had to thank Silas for, it’s that he’s shielded you from all the horrible stuff he deals with.

“Don’t look so scared, I’m not going to kill you”, the leader says as he moves closer. “You will go back to Silas, you have my word. I’m just going to roughen you up a little — show you a different side of the world you’re living in.”

You glare at him. The man drops his smile and walks back to his desk.

“If you know what’s best for you, you’ll stay there like a passed out drunk”, he mutters.

The men who dragged you in leave the room. You look around, but stay where you are. You have to get out somehow, have to escape.

You’re not sure how much time pass, but when you no longer can feel your legs, the man stands up from his computer.

“What’s your name?” he asks. “Silas is a clever bastard, hiding your identity. And don’t you even try lying, I will know.”

You don’t answer.

“Give me your name or I will rip of your finger nails until I get letter for letter”, he says lowly and crouches down in front of you. “Do you understand that, bunny?”

“Y/N …”

“Are you lying?”

You shake your head quickly. The man grabs your collar and lifts you up on your numb legs. You falter before finding your steps. He holds a knife to your throat.

“Scared?” he asks.

“N-No”, you lie.

He scoffs with a smile and pulls you over to his desk. He stands behind you, trapping you between his muscular arms. There’s a video on his computer. The thumbnail is enough to make you sick. You can't tell that it is exactly, but there's blood and someone being tied to a chair.

"I don't want to", you gulp.

"You're going to watch every single video I show you, do you understand that?" the man whispers in your ear. "Or else I'm really going to cut one of your fingers off and send it to your boyfriend. I'm not kidding."

He reaches for the mouse.

"Please don't", you whisper weakly.

"Why? Are you afraid to see the truth of what your boyfriend is doing?"

"I-Is it Silas in the video?"

"No. He's not dumb enough to film his sessions, but I know for a fact that he does this kind of stuff too. Now, watch or I'll bring out the knife."

He presses play. The first thing you hear are echoes of sobs and moans. The entire screen is filled with a man missing limbs. Two masked men are torturing him far beyond what he can handle.

You clench your eyes shut and feel the man behind you grab a fistful of your hair before yanking your head back.

"I told you to watch, bitch", he says. "So watch."

He throws your head back. Whiplash is hitting you and you hold your hand over your throat. You continue to watch the video with tears running down your cheeks. The images burn into your brain. You won't be forgetting them any time soon.

"I must say, watching a video isn't the same as … actually experiencing it, don't you agree?" the man smirks.

You feel sick.

"Just get Silas", you say harshly, raising your voice. "Get him so I can leave!"

"Not yet, my little bunny", the man says and holds his heavy hand on your shoulder. "I'm not done yet. I'm going to taint you like you've never been tainted before. Better yet, I'll break you."

All his words make you shiver. The man grabs your arm and pulls you up from the chair. He drags you out of the room, through a pair of corridors and down a flight of stairs. The place you've ended up in reminds you of Silas’s basement … just much, much worse. People are playing games, drinking and doing drugs … all in the same room others are torturing people. Is this a red room or a casino?

"Spend ten minutes down here and you'll never be the same", the man chuckles and pushes you towards the group of people.

You stand still, not knowing what to do. Your body is not reacting to any of the signals your brain is telling you. You can't remember the last time you've been so scared.

Silas, help me. Please come help me. Save me. I'm so scared.

You've never wanted him to come for you this badly before. Normally, you want him as far away as possible.

"What are you waiting for?" the man behind you asks. "Walk around. Take it all in."

You don't move. It doesn't take long before you feel a push harsh enough to make you fall forward. You hit your knees on the stone floor.

"Oh my, look at this little thing", a seductive female voice murmurs. "Already on their hands and knees? Too easy."

You're quick to sit back on your butt and glare at the woman who talked to you. She's sitting by the bar with a few other women and men, all looking dolled up in old, torn clothing.

"Look at that innocent sparkle in their teary eyes", another woman snickers.

"This is Silas sweetheart", the leader smiles from above you.

The group of people by the bar raises their eyebrows.

"Silas, hm?" a man asks and jumps off his tall stool. "This is a bit too perfect."

"He must be paissed that you took them", the first woman laughs. "I'd pay to watch his face right now."

You look around, seeing all kinds of horrors. People experiences the worst side effects from substances, people fighting, blood, torture … it all belongs in a nightmare.

Silas, please …

You start to sob even worse. If this is a nightmare, you want to wake up.

"Yes, that's it", the leader smirks.

He's quick to pull up his camera and film you sitting in a fetal position. The women who taunted you crawl over and put their grubby hands on you.

"Let me go!" you scream and fight them off. "Don't touch me!"

"See something you recognize, Silas?" you hear the man ask. "Y/N turn around and tell your dear boyfriend how badly you want him to save you."

You don't want to give into the man's disgraceful request. It's humiliating, but you're terrified. You want nothing more than for Silas to save you.

The women grab your face, turning it to the camera.

"Come on, Y/N …", the leader says playfully. "Do it."

The women twist your arms and you scream.

"Stop it!" you scream in agony. "Silas, help me, please!"

The man chuckles and cuts off the video before sending it. It doesn't take long before his phone rings.

"Silas!" he says with a twisted smile.

"What the fuck have you done?!" Silas screams back.

"I wouldn't have to do this if you had fulfilled your end of the promise, Silas. I want my documents. And you're going to give them to me if you want Y/N back."

"You'll get your fucking papers. Tell me where and I'll be there now."

"Oh, not now. I'm too busy. How about tomorrow at five pm?"

"No, now."

"I'm not done with your darling yet. I have so much to show them."

"Show what? What are you doing?"

"If you're going to bring Y/N into this world, why not show them what you've dragged them into?"

Silence.

"You can't", Silas says. "You wouldn't fucking dare."

"Oh, but I've already started. Tomorrow at five pm, the old warehouse. Bring only two men and I'll do the same. No weapons, no tricks."

"Fine. But you'll pay for this, trust me."

The man chuckles and hangs up. He turns to you and bends down to lift you up in his arms.

"Tomorrow at five pm you'll be free", he says as he carries you out of the basement.

It's the third man he's beaten to death. Silas’shand is throbbing with pain and he doesn't know if the blood on it is his own or the poor men's — most likely both. He's not done yet. Everyone should feel his wrath. Even the devil must be afraid of Silas right now. He hasn’t looked himself in the mirror and perhaps he shouldn’t.

“Boss …”, his right hand man says quietly, not raising his head to look at his boss. “It’s just a few hours … please try to remain calm-”

“Just a few hours?” Silas scoffs and swipes everything on his desk down on the floor. “Do you know what can happen in ‘just a few hours’?! Y/N could very well be dead when I get there!”

“I don’t think they’ll kill them … in that case they won’t get the documents. He’s very persistent on getting the documents.”

He goes pale. “Yeah, you’re right … but … Y/N … they could violate them in any way … and I won’t be able to stop it …”

Silas sinks down on his knees. Every cell in his body lost their adrenaline, leaving him aching and hurting. He can feel his heart breaking in pieces, feel it bleeding into his lungs. He’s terrified of the condition he’s going to find you in.

“Boss”, second in command tries again. His voice is gentle and sympathizing. “Don’t think like that. Y/N is strong … and smart. You know that.”

“But I never pushed past Y/N’s limits. They don’t care about their well being, they won’t stop. Even if they scream, cry and beg … they won’t care.” He leans his head against the wall. “I should never have left Y/N alone in the car …”

“You could never have known that they’d break into it.”

“I knew I fucked up the second I saw the dead drivers. But it was too late … how could I let those assholes take Y/N?”

“You tried to shield them by letting them stay in the car. Otherwise they’d have to see you kill someone.”

“Seems like they’ll have to watch that now anyway.” Silas clenches his bloody fists. “I’m going to kill that little insect for ever trying to mess with me. I’m going to end him for touching my Y/N.”

The night have been filled with more than you've ever anticipated. That man made sure that you were going to see as much terror as you possibly could. From watching people get limbs cut off to burned and filled with acid. You could never have imagined someone melting … or imagined the smell.

I just need to hold out. Hold out until it's over. Just a few hours.

The hours drag on by like snails. You're curled up in a corner of the office with the leader by the computer. Your body is trembling. The person you were yesterday feels so distant, so different.

"Very well, it's time to wrap up our little visit", the muscular man says. "And for you to return to Silas."

"What if he doesn't … come to pick me up?" you whisper, mortified by your own words.

What if he doesn't want you anymore now that he knows that you won't be pure anymore? You'll know it all, you'll be tainted.

"Then I'll keep you", the mob boss answers with a grin. "I'll force you to watch everything until your fragile brain breaks. Can't wait to see you numb and unresponsive. Get up."

Slowly, you pull yourself up on your feet. You feel sick to your stomach, the images of the night's horror still visible in front of your eyes. They never had to touch you, they could break you nonetheless.

The man grabs your arm and pulls you with him, out of the room, out of the building. You’re forced into the backseat of a gray car. You keep your head down the entirety of the bumpy ride. You’re exhausted, hungry and broken. Even if Silas gets you, you won’t be the same. It won’t matter if he comes. It’s too late.

You’re pulled out of the car and forced into an old, abandoned warehouse.

“Now … let’s wait”, the man says and holds you still. “Silas will be here soon enough.”

Not even ten minutes later, you can hear the screeching of a sports car’s breaks. You look up, seeing Silas and two of his men walk into the warehouse. The sight of him makes you tear up. You’re so relieved that he came to get you, but you’re so ashamed of what you’ve become — what you let that horrible man do to you. Silas is wearing his suit and dark coat, hands buried in his pockets. You have never seen such a dark expression on his face before. His face twitches as he sees you and he clenches his jaw.

“Let’s make this quick before I kill you with my bare hands”, Silas says coldly and gesticulates for his men to give him the documents. “Give me what’s mine now.”

“The papers first”, the man says calmly and takes a tighter, warning grip on your arm. “Afterwards I’ll return your sweetheart.”

Silas clenches his jaw and throws the folder carelessly on the ground. One of the men beside you takes the folder and the leader lets you go. Without hesitation, you run towards the man you earlier didn’t want anything to do with. Silas opens his arms for you and you run right into them, crashing into his firm body. He wraps his arms around you, holding your head into his chest. You're not going to have to see anymore horror — he'll make sure of it. He lets you cry while stroking your back. Heavy sobs exit your shaking body, causing his heart to bleed thickly. You breathe in Silas familiar scent and cry even harder. He holds you firmly, mortified of having you slip away from him again. He wants to say something, wants to do so much worse than that man ever did to you, but he can’t. He doesn't want to put you through even more pain, doesn't even want to let you go.

“I don’t understand that angry look, Silas”, the mob boss taunts him. “You brought them into this world, you should have known this was inevitable. Actually, you should thank me. I did all the job for you, you didnt have to watch their breakdown.”

Keep calm.

Silas bites the insides of his cheeks to avoid saying something that can escalate the situation. He doesn’t want to scare you any further. If he's going to beat him to death, it's going to be out of your sight.

“Let's leave”, he mutters lowly and puts his arm around your shoulders. “We’re done here.”

Silas gives him one last glare before he pulls you with him out of the warehouse. He fights back every impulse to turn back and beat that pick senseless.

“Tell me about what they did to you”, he whispers to you. “Did they hurt you badly?”

You shake your head again without lifting your face out of his warm chest. He breathes out in relief. He had imagined the worst. What would he have done if they had given you forever physical damage?

“They forced me to watch … w-watch people get killed”, you whisper, scared to even raise your voice an octave. “In all different kind of ways … it was horrible. I could never have imagined that people could do such things to each other …” you hug yourself when your stomach growls. “I also didn’t get to eat anything and every time I was about to wall asleep they hurt me to keep me stay awake … I have bruises …”

“The bruises will heal, I promise”, he says comfortingly. “I will cover all the mirrors in the house, you won’t have to watch yourself if you don’t want to.”

You sniffle. “Thank you …”

“Of course, baby.”

Silas is in pure disbelief over how someone can treat an angel like you this way. You had nothing to do with his work, you are completely innocent … how could they do this to you? The mere thought makes him see red. The mob boss’s taunting words dance around in his brain like annoying mosquitos. It wasn’t his fault, Silas tells himself, he didn’t bring you into the world, he kept you out of it. He shielded you!

Your legs cave in once you reach the car. He helps you into the backseat and buckles you in, wiping a few tears on the way. He’s about to crawl in after you, but he stops himself.

“Keep an eye on them”, he demands the two men he brought with him. “I have to tell that son of a bitch one thing.”

“Should we come with you, boss?” one of the men asks.

“No, keep an eye on Y/N. And I mean a really close eye. I’ll be fine. They don’t have weapons.”

You break out in broken sobs and reach for him. “N-No, don’t leave me!” you scream.

“I’ll be back in a minute, baby”, he says softly and kisses your cheek. “If I don’t tell that man my mind, I’ll regret it big time.”

Silas closes the car door and runs back to the warehouse. He storms over to the man and lunges his fist as hard as he possibly can towards his face. The other man stumbles and loses his balance. His men come towards Silas, but he manages to send them flying as well. He hopes that they hit their heads hard enough to never wake up again, but frankly he doesn’t care. It’s not them he wants to get at — it’s their horrible, disgusting leader. He continues to force his fist into the mob boss’s face until he no longer moves. Silas wants to kill him. He’s going to kill him.

“You should never have been so stupid to touch what’s mine”, Silas pants and stands up to reload his stamina.

He is filled with adrenaline and won’t stop until the mob boss is dead. He punches on and on and on again until he’s sure the man is dead. He spits at the man’s corpse and storms back to the car. Quickly, he removes his bloody coat and wipes his hands on it to not scare you any further. Silas hurries to get into the backseat and hold your trembling body in his hands.

“You’re safe now”, he whispers in your ear. “Don’t cry, I’m here now and everything is going to be okay. He’s not a threat anymore. You don’t have to worry.”

You look at him with big, glossy, red eyes. How is anything going to be okay when you're no longer the person he fell in love with?

"I'm sorry", you sob.

"Sorry?" Silas asks in confusion and he feels his heart break all over again. How could you ever think such a thing? "Why are you sorry? You haven't done anything wrong, little thing, don’t even say that. I should be apologizing for ever leaving you alone in the car. I should have trusted my gut and not have brought you on that stupid mission. The car has been upgraded, they’ll never manage to break in again. Not that I will ever leave you alone in it again …"

He takes your hand and lifts it to his lips, kissing desperately. The guilt he’s feeling is greater than anything he’s ever felt before. It’s a feel piercing through his heart.

“I hate to see you so upset … tell me what I can do to make you better”, he pleads and cramps onto your hands. “I will give you anything you want, nothing is too much … I could even allow you to meet your parents …”

At the moment, all you want is to take a break until your brain works again.

“I just want to sleep”, you sniffle and shake your head. “I’m so tired, I haven’t slept at all …”

In other words, you want to escape this living nightmare in hopes of finding it easier in dreamland. They kept you awake all night to force you to watch those horrible events and videos. If you weren’t too mortified to be sleepy, they’d push, kick or pull your hair hard enough to make you wide awake.

“Of course”, Silas answers quickly and positions himself right. “Sleep on my shoulder, darling.”

You hesitate. You don’t want to be unaware, what if something happens again? But … you’re so tired …

“Nothing is going to happen to you”, Silas reassures you as if he could read your mind. “I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere, do you understand that?”

You nod carefully.

“I’ll never let that happen to you again”, Silas says firmly and kisses your forehead. “You have nothing to be afraid of. I’m right here by your side.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Just rest, baby.”

You lean your head onto his shoulder and shut your eyes slowly. He holds his arm around your shoulders to keep you in place, even bringing his coat around you. Continuously, he kisses your forehead while fighting back tears. It grows like a ball in his throat, but he refuses to cry. You are safe and that bastard is dead, he tells himself.

It’s all over … but his rage is still burning inside his lungs. He’s not done yet.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere fics #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere stories #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #yandere oneshots #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n

860 notes · View notes

bexalert · 9 months

Text

Jojo characters reactions to you being hurt

(Jonathan, Joseph, Jotaro, Kakyoin, Dio)

(mentions of violence)

Jonathan Joestar:

• Since he can heal, he’s not too worried

• But he’s still freaking out a bit inside.

• He’s SUCH a gentleman

• “Are you alright? Here, let me carry you.”

• Even if you’re fine, this man is watching you like a hawk.

• He just doesn’t want to lose anyone else :(

• If it’s a more severe injury, broken limb, stab wound, etc. He’s more jittery

• Like if you’re visibly in pain he’s gonna feel awful.

• “Please don’t cry- it ok. I’m here.”

• If he can’t be there, he’s gonna have Speedwagon or Baron watching you.

• He’ll fight for your honor 😤

• He’ll just do to your attacker what they did for you

• And a little bit more 🤭🤏

• But he’s still honorable! So he won’t go too far

• He knows you’re capable he’s just really worried and paranoid.

• He just cares so much :(

Joseph Joestar:

• He’ s gonna be making jokes

• Not because he doesn’t care, he just wants to make you feel better

• He’s so confident it’s almost annoying

• “Don’t worry, Joseph Joestar is here!”

• *wink*

• But if someone did this to you, you best believe Joseph is messing them up.

• “You made a big mistake hurting Y/N!”

• It’s gonna be night and day

• He’s so gentle and nice with you

• And then he’s beating someone half to death

• If it’s a more severe injury, he’s PISSED

• Tells Caesar or Lisa Lisa to watch you while he murders someone

• Skipping the witty quip

• Just going straight into destroying them

• He’s gonna be a lot nicer if you’re genuinely hurt

• Doesn’t want to make jokes if it’s more serious

• “Everything’s gonna be alright, Y/N.”

• He’s not leaving your side

• If medicine isn’t making you feel better, he will.

Jotaro Kujo:

• If silent but deadly was a person

• He’s not even gonna have to fight whoever hurt you

• He’s just gonna walk up to them and they’re already on their knees apologizing

• “Don’t apologize to me.”

• Now they’re desperately apologizing to you, and you’re confused cuz it’s just a scrapped knee.

• You’ll have to tell Jotaro that you’re ok and it’s not a big deal.

• Cuz at this point you feel bad for this random guy

• But if it’s a severe injury

• This person is fucked

• He’ll make sure you’re ok, and leave you with one of the other Stardust Crusaders

• And then Star Platinum is killing someone

• And Jotaro is just glaring

• You are not leaving his line of sight

• “Are you ok?”

• You won’t notice, but he’s gonna be hyper aware of what you’re doing

• Helicopter parenting

• He’s gonna make sure you’re happy and safe.

Noriaki Kakyoin:

• He’s very worried

• If it’s something small, he’s probably not gonna go after whoever did it

• He’s just gonna make sure you’re ok.

• “Are you hurt? Let me see, I’ll help.”

• He’ll patch you up, and you’ll go on about your day

• But if it’s a worse injury

• He’s FREAKING out

• His eyes are going all wide and he’s gonna go straight to you.

• If it’s an easier enemy, he’ll stay with you and have Hierophant Green get them, or vice versa

• But if it’s another stand user, he’ll leave you with the Stardust Crusaders and destroy them 🥰

• He’s making it quick, cuz he just wants to make sure you’re ok

• He feels guilty that he couldn’t keep you from getting hurt

• He doesn’t want to seem clingy, but he’s gonna stay right by you’re side

• “I’m sorry you got hurt. I won’t let it happen again.”

• And he means that

• He’s going to keep you safe

Dio Brando:

• oh boy

• You gotta try and calm him down

• Like you’re frantically trying to convince him not to kill this poor dude

• “How dare they touch you?!”

• If you’re able to convince him to leave the guy alone, his mood will be soured, and you won’t hear the end of it.

• But eventually he’ll let it go

• If you’re seriously injured, however, he’s not letting it go.

• He’s going to take his time and make them suffer.

• He’ll have one of his lackeys take him away, and make sure you’re fine.

• If you’re not, he’ll get you the best care

• And he WILL make this person suffer

• “They will not get away with doing this to you, believe me.”

• He’ll do to them what they did to you, but tenfold.

• And he’s gonna be clingy, but will deny it

• He’s gonna act like he’s on top of you 24/7 for your sake

• But he was actually just really worried

• He knows that he has many enemies, and doesn’t want you involved

• He’s not gonna forget about it for a while.

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seireitonin · 1 month

Note

I just saw your fic/hc of if toby had kids, it's so good btw!! :3

I'm in a mischievous mood, how would he react if one of/both of the kids died? Like he took his eyes off them for one second. I feel like because they most likely live in a forest setting, it would be something like going on a lake when it's iced over and then falling through.

This is so sad omg :( but let me try my best (you really want to sob huh?😭)

Toby If His Kids Died

He’d never ever recover

He’d never ever ever EVER forgive himself

He looked away for one second

Just one

But that second is all it took

The ice was thin and his kids not knowing any better, stood on it together, falling in

Toby heard the sound of the ice breaking and the two loud splashes

He turned around as quickly as he could only to see the open hole where they once were

Trapped under the ice as Toby tried to get them out

He was too late

He pulls them out and does everything he could

CPR, shaking them softly, calling out there names

“Please…wake up…please…please…please! Talk to me! Open your eyes! Please….i need you…I love you! Your dad needs you! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

When they don’t respond it destroys him

He hits the ground, screams and sobs

Just truly broken

Out of everything that he’s been through in his life, this was the most painful, unbearable, heart shattering thing he’s ever been through

His world was gone in a second

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry! I love you! I failed you! I’m so sorry”

He sobs out as he hugs them to his chest, wishing they’d hug him back, and tell him they’re okay

Their skin, freezing cold, their clothes, soaking wet

He carries them home, putting them in their beds, trying to warm them up, one last time

How was he going to face his significant other?

He meets them at the front door, falling to his knees and hugging their legs, ear piercing sobs

“They’re gone…they’re gone”

“W-what?!”

“They fell in the lake and got trapped in the ice! I was too late! I-“

He can’t continue, falling victim to his sobs

His significant other, starts to scream and sob along with him, pushing Toby off in anger

“This is your fault! This is your fucking fault!”

They’re just confused and angry and full of grief like he is

“Why weren’t you watching them?! How could you let this happen?!”

“I turned away for one second! It was a second! One second! I promise!”

“Look what it cost us! Look what you did! You destroy everything you fucking touch!”

“Please….im sorry! I’m sorry!”

He couldn’t even say that wasn’t true

Every person he loved, every person who depended on him, he’s let die

Lyra is dead. His mom was probably dead. Now…his children….are gone

He’s a failure. And everyone around him had to pay the price

His significant other, and Toby bury them on a hill, where they all had a picnic once.

They put their favorite toys on the graves, saying goodbye to their bundles of joy

Life is unfair, huh?

Toby and his partner try to stay together

But they could never look at Toby the same way

They wouldn’t look Toby in the eyes or in the face

They could only see their children in Toby’s features

Toby tried to touch them, to hold them, to comfort them

He could hear them, sobbing quietly in the night with their back turned to him

The guilt eats him alive

But they didn’t want Toby’s touch, not ever again

Their meals were silent

They exchanged minimal words

What do you say? What do you do?

They couldn’t take it anymore

They packed all their things and had one final conversation with the man they once had a life with

“Toby…”

“Please…no”

“Toby….i can’t do this anymore…. I can’t”

“Please….stay”

“I love you, Toby. But I can never forgive you.”

“Don’t…”

“Our children’s empty rooms are up there. I can’t….stay. Every where I turn….I see them. It’s like they’re haunting us. I can’t stay here, Tobias. Neither should you.”

“Please! You’re all I have left! I….please! You’re all I have left…”

“You lost me a long time ago. Goodbye. Tobias”

They were gone, just like that

It’s just Toby in this empty home

A home once filled with love and joy was now filled with grief and pain

He started to have a tic attack

And no one was here to help him through it

He sobs out again, the reality hitting him harder and harder with every passing second

With no one around

He starts to have hallucinations again

He sees the ghosts of his children, like he saw the ghost of Lyra

“Why didn’t you save us?”

“I tried! I tried! You know I…I love you!”

“Then why did you let us die?!”

“Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop!”

He started picking and chewing at his fingers, pulling his hair, hitting himself in the head

Old habits from when he was 17

He turns to alcohol

He made a promise to never be like his dad

He’s sticking to it in his own way

He can never abuse his family. He has no family

He’s often drunk most of the time now

Sometimes just so he can sleep

But even when he sleeps all he can hear is the ice breaking, the ice cold water, the last moments of his kids

Masky and Hoodie find him in his home

“Toby. You have to start coming on missions again. We can’t keep covering for you. You know what Slenderman will do to you if you don’t”

“Let him kill me. I don’t care. I died a long time ago”

He takes another swig from his bottle as he talks to them, slurring a bit

“He should’ve…let me die….when I was 25”

“You can’t even stand can you?”

“Fuck you! Fuck you!”

He starts to scream

“My family is gone! I lost my family, TWICE! You think I care about missions anymore?! You think I care about anything anymore?! Huh?! I dont give a fuck about my life!”

Masky lets out a sigh

“You know, you always were emotional. Although, I kinda miss when you were a hyper and upbeat annoying little shit. I wonder if your children were the same?”

Toby immediately pulls his hatchets out and starts swinging, sloppy, but still dangerous

“Don’t you ever fucking talk about them!”

Hoody catches his arms and pushes him back on the couch

“He didn’t mean it like that.”

“I don’t give a fuck! I’ll kill him!”

“You can’t even stand up straight”

The room was spinning. He wasn’t wrong

“Just…let me die. Let me die…here”

They look at him

He’s malnourished. His skin paler than ever. His self inflicted wounds, just open because no one was there to help patch him up. The dark circles under his eyes, prominent. His eyes themselves, hollow and empty

Masky warms up some instant noodles from the cabinet

“Eat. Now”

“Fuck you”

“Toby. Please” Hoodie says, concerned

He reluctantly takes it and eats slowly unable to finish, putting it on the table in front of him

“See that…toy truck over there?”

He points to a red toy pickup truck, untouched and in the same place his son left it.

“That was my son’s favorite. He told me…he liked it so much….because it looked like….mine.”

He points to a doll with fluffy brown hair

“See that? My daughter….loved it…said it had hair like me”

He can’t take it anymore. He starts to sob. He doesn’t even care about looking tough anymore

“Fuck! They’re gone! They’re gone!”

Toby puts his head in his hands and just sobs

What else could he do?

This was his first time talking about it with someone else

They sit with him, putting their hands on his shoulders, comforting him

They didn’t always get along though out the years

But they could put that aside for something like this

“Brain. You died. Brought back by….Slenderman. How do you feel?”

He already knew what Toby was implying

“Don’t even think about it Toby. I may be alive again. But my body isn’t mine anymore and I’m a slave to Slenderman. You know that. You don’t want that for your children. They’ll belong to him and have a life of suffering. So…let them rest”

It was selfish thinking on Toby’s part. But he’d do anything to have them back

But he knew better. He wouldn’t actually go through with that idea

Toby’s mood swings are worse than ever

Extreme sadness, to extreme numbness to extreme anger

That’s it

He couldn’t feel happiness anymore

It died with his kids

It left with his significant other

Constant panic attacks

Constant nightmares

Constant hallucinations

And besides the occasional visit from Masky and Hoodie

He was alone

And….maybe it’s better this way

The words ring in his head every day

“You destroy everything you fucking touch!”

A shell of a person

Doesn’t leave his house anymore, unless it’s to visit his children’s graves

Hopes he’ll see his ex partner there one day

Wants to ask if they have nightmares too and if they still wake up and think of the life they had together

Wants to end his own life, but was cursed with immortality or at least long lasting life

He wants nothing more than to see his family again

Both of them

Blames himself every day

Will literally never not blame himself

He will never move on or be happy again

So he spends his days in the empty home, looking at once was

“Please….forgive me. I love you.”

He holds a picture of his kids to his chest as he falls asleep into another nightmare

Not that real life was any better

#creepypasta #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta characters #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #crp #ticci toby #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby hc #ticci toby hcs #ticcitoby #tobias erin rogers #seireitonin

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sserpente · 4 months

Text

A/N: I’ve been meaning to write this for so long. If you’re in the mood for some angst, you’re in the right place!

Words: 1743 Warnings: angst, poisoning

You didn’t know what hurt more. Was it the fact that the man—god—you had fallen for was on the brink of death, taking his last breaths? Or was it the very circumstance that no one but you cared?

Tony Stark had been very clear about it. He tolerated Loki only per Thor’s humble request. The God of Thunder himself was less than pleased that the Trickster was to serve his sentence on Earth of all places. It was Odin’s magic that restricted him, keeping him from causing even more mayhem after the chaos he unleashed in New York City.

They were even less delighted about him joining their self-proclaimed superhero group on missions even though Thor himself claimed that Loki’s wit and skills could prove useful.

You had nothing to say in the matter of course. If anything, you were declared crazy because you had expressed your affinity for the God of Mischief and that included Loki himself.

You couldn’t help it. The way he smirked, the way he talked, the way he sat in the corner buried in a book—one of the very few instances you ever saw him relaxed, not to mention the occurrence with the cat… oh, the cat. A stray—black and white, young, purring and dancing around Loki’s feet, desperate for his attention. And when he’d bent down to pet it and even conjured some food for it, it was the last piece of evidence you had needed to conclude that this man was not evil. Misguided, betrayed, hurt? Yes, all of those things and more. But not evil.

It was the latter. The very circumstance that no one but you cared hurt more.

Thor had left for Asgard already, seeking the advice of their healers. It was ridiculous, truly. In a life-threatening emergency like this, how could his banishment still hold any weight? He needed help.

Your enemy had been thorough, researching each and everyone’s greatest weakness. And Loki’s had proved the most fatal. Whatever the extra-terrestrial had coated their weapon in before it fired its arrow at the God of Mischief, it prevented him from healing, had him break out in a sweat and slowly lose a battle against the poison now spreading in his body.

“Loki? Can you hear me? Please stay with me. You got to stay awake, alright?” He was on the sofa, with his head placed in your lap. You stroked his forehead in an attempt to soothe him. Blue eyes found yours and you were unsure whether he wanted to tell you to stay with him or let him die in peace. You’d been singing to him too. Trying to keep him in the present, in the now.

By the time Thor finally burst back into the room, Loki’s breathing had become dangerously shallow.

“Did you tell them about the symptoms? What did they say? What’s wrong with him? How are we gonna heal him?” The questions gushed out of you like a waterfall before he’d even set his hammer down.

Thor, however, grew silent for a moment. “There… Loki was poisoned. The rat knew what he was doing. The arrow was likely infused with blood from a Memphis of Muspelheim mixed with a deadly dose of mistletoe essence.”

You put one and one together immediately. “So… you’re saying this poison was specifically made to kill a Frost Giant?”

Thor looked down. “Yes.”

“Well, did you bring the antidote then?”

“There… there is no antidote. Not on Asgard. And I fear… there is no time to search the realms. The Jötuns have spent millennia destroying every last drop of this poison. There is hardly any antidote left.”

Your heart sank. No… no! You were not going to let Loki die!

“There has to be a way. Somewhere we can…” Your lips parted. “There is somebody. Someone who has everything. You mentioned him before, you said you brought the Aether to him!”

“The Collector?”

“He has it. He must have it.”

“What, and you think he will give it to you without anything in return?” Tony said.

“I didn’t say that. I’m sure we can offer him something in return to make it worth his while.” You turned back to Thor. “Heimdall can take us there. Please, Thor. This might be our only chance.”

Perhaps you should have been surprised that the God of Thunder relented. There was no doubt he too wanted his brother to survive. The entire time you’d been preparing to leave, Thor was brooding and lost in thought. He wasn’t one for big words—but he cared and for the moment, that was good enough for you.

The Collector’s place was dimly lit, eerily quiet and… it smelled awful. You took a deep breath regardless and gave a nod to Thor to venture forth.

“An Asgardian. And… a human?” The Collector tilted his head when you stepped into view. “What an… honour. What brings you to my humble domain?”

“We need your help. We’re looking for something rare. Thor’s brother Loki is Jötun and he’s been shot with an arrow drenched in a rare poison.”

“Hmm… yes, I’m familiar.”

“There is no antidote. If… if anyone has any left, it must be you.”

“So it must be… I do indeed have this antidote you speak of.” Your face lit up but judging by the Collector’s body language—a smug and repulsive expression, truly—he was not going to give it up easily.

“Surely, your Asgardian friend has told you of how the Jötuns have ensured every last drop of this poison gets destroyed. There was a need for an antidote no longer. The bottle that I have in my collection is… an antique, almost.”

“Fine,” you spat. “What do you want in return?”

“You see… I’ve never had a human in my collection.”

Your eyes widened, lips parting to respond.

“No!” Thor roared.

“Then I am afraid we have reached a dead end.”

“She’s not an object to be collected, she’s a person!”

“Thor!” Gnashing your teeth, you turned to him and took a deep breath. “It’s fine. Just take the antidote to Loki, alright?”

“No. There has to be another way.”

“Take the damn antidote to him, Thor!”

“I cannot let you do this.”

“You can and you will. He’s your brother, Thor! And I’m…” I’m in love with him. Heavens, was that stupid? Loki didn’t even know. It was absurd, wasn’t it? To sacrifice your own life in this way to see the God of Mischief live another day?

Yes. It was. But it… it felt like the right thing to do. Loki deserved another shot. A chance to redeem himself, to show the world that he was more than he let on. And a chance to have the damn world apologise to him, too.

“Tell him… tell him to live his best life, okay? Tell him… tell him not to be too harsh on himself. To… to love himself.”

“To love himself?” Thor frowned.

“Shut up and listen. Loki hates himself, don’t you see that? He hates what he is, he hates what he’s become. He hates himself. And you all played a part in that.”

“Why would you do this… for him?”

Your lips parted. “Tell him… tell him I fell for him.” There. You’d said it. But it didn’t matter anymore whether he’d reject you, right? You’d be here, wherever here was and Loki would be back on Earth, recovering. You’d never have to face his reaction after your confession and yet, he could live with the knowledge that he was not, in fact, so terrible, that no one could love him beyond a family bond like the one he shared with Thor.

“I… fine. I will. Mark my words, I will come back for you,” he added quietly.

You nodded. Was there hope? Possibly. Possibly not. But you did not doubt for a second that your sacrifice was worth it.

You didn’t know how many days had gone by since Thor’s departure. One? Three? Ten? There was no sunlight in this place, no clocks. One of the Collector’s lackeys made sure to feed you regularly at least, other than that… you were on your own, caged in a pretty glass box until he figured out what to do with you. Unless of course… he was just going to keep you on display like this like the maniac he was.

If you didn’t know better, you would have asked him for a book. Surely he had some in his collection. It was boredom and solitude that would drive you mad sooner or later, that much you were sure of.

Every sound nearby became more interesting than the next. The cracking of the metal tiles, the flapping of wings of the caged bird opposite your own stupid box, the ruffling of clothing whenever you moved… a massive explosion forcing everything in its vicinity several feet into the air. Wait, what?

Your eyes widened and you stood. Were you under attack? Oh heavens, no, you didn’t want to be killed inside of a glass box! Would there be another explosion? What if the cage broke and you bled to death because of the shards piercing your body?

Chaos erupted, yet the Collector was nowhere to be seen. A scream escaped your lips when with a start, a figure appeared right before your cage, remnants of green shimmering light enveloping them whole. It took you a moment to realise that it was Loki.

“My… that is quite the predicament you have landed yourself in, pet.”

“I… w-what? Loki… you’re alive, you’re fine. What are you doing here?” Unable to process what was happening, you inched back when the God of Mischief broke the lock and opened the cage for you to climb out. Electricity rippled through you when he took your hand in his.

“Rescuing you, of course.” His sly smirk had you gasping for air as you leaned against him. Your knees and legs hurt from having to sit for so long.

“Thor told me what you did.”

“Did he also tell you…”

Loki nodded. Without another word, he leaned forward and stole a chaste kiss, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

“Come. The others are waiting on the ship. And then, my dear, I shall show you the proper Asgardian way of courting a woman.”

You smiled, relief flooding your entire body as he picked you up and carried you home.

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dnsbarbie · 3 months

Text

DEAR READER | C.L16 (THREE)

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Ferrari Intern!OC

Warnings: Google translated french, Complex relationship, resisting the urge to jump each other’s bones (jk 1/2)

Parts: one | two | three | four

Note: let me know if you want to be included in the tag list!

NATALIA VALLE WAS NOT a nobody. Or at least, that was what her father used to tell her. All her life, she endured loneliness from her inability to make and keep relationships. Perhaps it was a trait passed down through her family. She wasn’t quite sure. It took her a while to accept her predicament and as she was just beginning to embrace the path to nunnery, Susie Wolff appeared out of thin air.

The rest? Well, here it was. At North Holland, Netherlands. Circuit Zandvoort, to be more specific.

Natalia strode through the area, eyes subtly darting through the space. She tried her best to even out her breathing. Deep down she knew this wouldn’t be any different from the previous days.

Opening up her senses, she was greeted by the slowly increasing noises of screaming fans, colliding with the guide’s booming voice echoing out from the numerous speakers encircling the stands.

Her head began to feel a dull pounding sensation. If it was the jet lag, now would be the worst time for it to come barreling to her face.

Oh no—

“Natalia! Natalia!”

“Great. . .” She muttered. Her fingers gripped tightly at the colorful lanyards crumpled in her hands before mustering up her best smile at the reporter practically running to her.

Just like that, her peace was destroyed same as yesterday and the day before.

She met him half way, twitching at how careless he shoved that big ass mic he had to her face.

Lowering down the object, she kept her polite gaze.

“Wonderful to see you here, Natalia!” He exclaimed, baring a toothy grin at her.

“Yes, it’s great to finally attend other races, for sure.” She nodded.

Before he even speaks, Natalia grumbles internally. She knew the look he gave him. It’s one of those looks that reports tend to give her before they ask something that they think she’ll be okay with, only to come at her with a full blown pompous comment in an attempt to humiliate her.

“Daddy Toto’s paying extra, eh?” On contrary to his guffawing figure, Natalia stood unfazed, simply chuckling despite the burning desire to rip this man’s remaining hair out his old balding head.

“Ferrari, actually.” She quipped, watching the confusion etch onto his face as his laugh dies down.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m doing my internship in Ferrari,” She simpered at the him. “I’ll be graduating from university in a few months, you see.”

“I—I see!” Not surprising either that he’s got more up his agitating sleeve. “And what of Mercedes? Why did you not choose to work there?”

“I don’t choose,” She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “This opportunity was given to me and I am extremely grateful. It’s an honor to be working for Ferrari.”

She visibly held her breath as a herd of voices invaded behind the interviewer. Blood rushed to her ears as she realized they were getting closer.

She confirmed her suspicion as she peaked through, spotting the the sea of journalists trying to get past the security line.

“Natalia!”

“NATALIA! WHERE’S TOTO?”

“Is it true that you moved in with the Wolffs’?”

“Natalia! A moment please!”

“What’s going with you and Charles Leclerc?”

“Nice meeting you!” She hurried, as she turned her attention back to the previous torn on her side, nodding politely. “I’m afraid I must be going now. Hope you enjoy the race!” She waved to the other raging journalists, squinting as their chants of her name got louder.

Sprinting away to the Ferrari paddock, she sighed. She pushed the glass doors open, breathing in the comforting scent of lavender. This quiet atmosphere instantly brightened her mood.

Elation spread to her lips at the sight the delectable food on the buffet table. Delight flamed through her eyes at the sight of the various selection of Dutch delicacies.

She scanned the table, quite fascinated with each of the names written on a signage corresponding to the food. Grabbing a small plate, she picked out a few, such as sphere-shaped snacks called Bitterballen and Krudnoten. A happy sway parked in her as she noticed a Stroopwafel truck outside, making a mental note to stop by later.

“Halo, linda!”

She whirled around, a plaesant smile blossoming on her lips as the man with the most gorgeous hair in the grid, as they say, approaches her.

“Carlos! Long time no see!” Natalia said, bringing him into a short hug.

“It is, indeed. I hear you work for Charles now,” He wiggles his eyebrows at her, chuckling as her smile quickly faded

“Not for him,” She denies, putting her palm up. “I’m working with h— yeah okay, I am.” Drooping in defeat, she glares at Carlos’ amused smirk.

“So?” He asks, as if expecting her to understand.

“So, what?” She raises her brows.

“Do you like it?” He asks. “Working for him, that is.”

She tilts her head, biting into one of the treats on her plate. “His social media presence is getting better because of me . . .” Pride swells in her smile. “And I get to boss him around too. I’d say it’s not as bad as I thought. More fans for him equals more money for me.”

Carlos chortles at the brunette’s blatant response to which she joins in, giving him a high five. Their laughter was interrupted by the clamor from the outside.

A simultaneous air of exasperation crossed their minds, briefly casting a glance at one another at the sight of the countless cameras pointing towards their direction, zeroing in on them like they were Sea World’s latest attraction.

They waved at the clicking cameras, building up practiced smiles.

“The only thing missing is a hoop for us to jump through,” Natalia joked, nearly flying away from the force of Carlos’ whack on her arm.

She concealed her laughter, gripping onto his bicep for mental support as Carlos failed to control the hideous snort coming out of his mouth.

To the people outside, Sea World bearing the most valuable and interesting creatures has took a turn to become a mental institute where, apparently, the patients were graciously yanking and hitting each other in the midst of terribly cloaked hysterics.

Heavy hands weighed in on the shoulders of said mental patients, each baring their own expression of terror as the turned their backs to the audience outside and onto Ferrari’s Team Principal.

“Enjoying ourselves, aren’t we?” Fred quizzed, narrowing his gaze as he watched the merriment slowly melt away from their faces. “Natalia, Charles is asking for you. He’s in his drivers lounge?”

Without thinking, Natalia grimaced at the order. “In his driver’s lounge? Why does he need me—” She clamped her mouth shut, giving into the cutting glare staring into her soul. “Driver’s lounge. Got it!” Spinning around, zooming into the hall of the drivers lounge.

“What do you think?” Charles query was accompanied by a smirk of plume as he finished his pitch.

His company stood frigid, mouth twitching with her eyes on him. “I— I don’t—” A string of laughter erupted from her, doubling over as she struggled to regulate air.

Charles eyed her wildly amused figure crumple onto the floor, a smile slipping onto his face at the cheery atmosphere of his room.

“Is that even— allowed?” She managed to get out, look up at him and wiping away the tear pebbling at ducks.

Charles raises his hands, smirking at her. “It was your idea first!” He accused, pointing a finger at her.

She scoffed, getting to her feet before sitting down on the small bed of the driver’s room. “It was a joke!”

“Well, it sounds good to me,” He shrugged, grabbing his gloves in a compartment at the foot of his bed.

“No it doesn’t!” Natalia laughed again, head throwing back at the seriousness of Charles’ tone. “I am not making a montage of you with Usher’s Daddy’s home playing in the background!”

Charles gasp, laying a hand on his chest, feigning offense as he looked at her. “Oh come on!”

“No, you come on!” She retorted, as laughter continued to spill out of her mouth.

Reached towards the giggling body on the bed, placing his gloved hands on her shoulders. “Why not?” He mocked a whine, watching as her smile reached her eyes.

Even with protective gear on his hands, the warmth of her skin somehow found a way to seep onto his palms. As if the heat had crawled up in his brain, he pushed against her shoulders, relishing at the surprised squeak tumbling out her mouth as her back hit the mattress.

Her eyes blown into a pair of saucers, swallowing noticeably at the weight of his stare.

“What are you doing?” The tremor in her voice sent delightful shivers down Charles’ ego.

He dug into the confinements of his restraint as her delicate palm laid on his chest. The feverish heat worsened as she made no effort to push him away, merely blinding him with those rich mahogany irises—pulling him into an endless stream of desire.

She looks at him as if she wanted her to know that he can’t have her. Boarded into place, backed into the corner with no where to go.

“Stop looking at me like that—” He whispers, baring a grit of his teeth.

Despite the constricting grip on her dazed state, Natalia responded, soft and lightheaded. “What?”

Exasperated, Charles dropped his head on her shoulder, not missing the slight flinch of her body as he inhaled the flowery scent of her clothing.

“You—” He started, breath fanning onto her ear as he lifted his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you want me . . . Natalia,”

“We— we can’t. . .” She stuttered as conflicting thoughts troubled her mind. At Charles’ groan of protest, she shuts her eyes, hoping to gain enough composure.

And when she does, she cleared her throat, warding off the trembling sound of uncertainty.

“You know we can’t,” At the height of her sense, Charles woke up from the root of his fantasies, nodding his.

“Yes. . .” He mumbled, laying her chest, arms going around her waist. “I know— I know— I just— how about this—”

“Charles—” She sighed, ready to decline him.

He silenced her, rushing to overpower her voice. “If I win today, I take you out to dinner—” Seeing as she was about to intrude, he raised his palm up. “Just dinner. Nothing more. Just you and me.”

Her stiffening posture exuded hesitation, prompting Charles to rub comforting circles with his thumb on her waist.

Anxiety skyrocketed in her veins, her arm draped on Charles’ back, palm splayed. Like a broken record, the imaginative image of the past kept flashing in between the cracks of her current reality.

Charles grew concerned as her breath labored, hand suddenly clasping at the fabric of his fireproofs as if he’ll disappear if she releases him.

“Hey,” Charles cooed, immediately brushing her hair back after nervousness completely taking over her features. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

His hand slid down to her cheek, stroking her paled skin, successfully catching her attention.

In a second, the withering blocks of emotion’s disappeared. In it’s place was a tired sigh, and a pat on Charles’ back.

He furrowed at the sudden change, and how quickly she threw away the deep seated thoughts troubling her mind.

“A lot.” She stated, licking her lips. “But if you insist, then — okay.”

The Monegasque stared at her, unblinkingly. Unsure what to make of the fast-paced situation.

He did want it. However, the droll in her voice withered the excitement he initially felt. Heaviness countered the supposed delight of his agenda.

It made him more curious and worried as to what had caused her to be that way. Natalia Valle was the embodiment of spilled sun rays when he first saw her interacting with the Toto Wolff in the Marcedes garage.

But looking at her now, all the bright twinkle in her eyes had been lost in a maze of darkness.

“Alright.” He assessed her disheveled state, slowly standing up. “I’ll see you after the race,”

Natalia managed a small smile, reaching her hand up for assistance. Charles took it, pulling her up into a sitting position. His hand tilted up her head, having her look him straight in the eyes.

“Do your best,” the glint of anticipation in her eyes were hard to ignore, as she took Charles’ wrist in a gentle hold.

They nearly jumped out of their skin as a loud knock echoed through the room.

“Charles! It’s time!” It was Nicolas.

The pair shared a look, Natalia baring a reassuring smile to Charles who gives her a thankful nod.

The realization of Natalia’s whereabout came crashing down in a high speed collision as the roaring of the engines resounded across the hall.

She was about to witness a Formula One race.

And even with the vicious claws of anxiety latching at her wits and thunderstorms forming clouds on her head, maybe—just maybe fulfilling her childhood dreams is enough to block everything out for just a moment.

The words; Lights out and away we go, seemed too long ago. The Ferrari garage bathed in chaos. Fred Vasseuer red faced, eyes wide with frustration coursing through his veins. Said veins could also be seen surfacing on the sides of his neck as he screams through his mic connected to the drivers’ ears.

On his feet, his hand slapped against the wooden table, creating a resounding bang that can be heard underneath the headphone-encapsulated ears of Natalia.

As one could tell, even from the stands, Ferrari was not having a great race.

“NO! NO!” Fred’s strident wail pierced Natalia’s ears, causing her to squint and move the left bud off her hearing premises.

She watched helplessly as the red Formula One car adorning the number 16 rounded the corner, before coming in contact with a bright orange McLaren.

Natalia’s heart felt like it would combust into a million pieces as it quickened at the sight of the collision. Through the fog of her aching head, she stepped forward to get a better view.

“Damage,” Dread filled her bones as the words came trembling. “I— think I have floor damage. . .”

Chills kissing at her fingertips, Natalia held them together close to her chest, seemingly like a silent prayer.

“Copy.” His engineer, Xavier Marcos Pardros responded. “Keep driving. We pit later.”

Silent pleas of betterment flooded Natalia’s brain as she watched Charles perform with a half-broken vehicle.

She wasn’t an expert on anything related to Formula One. No, however, she was aware that damages to the car commonly entails a bad omen which eventually leads to a retirement.

The tormenting suspense of what’s to come bit at Natalia’s sane conciliation, hands clutching at her sides. Her dilated eyes darted through the screen, focused on Charles�� car. His wheels were visibly wavering as the race dragged on. The extent of the damage slowly catching up to him.

“There’s no down force!” Natalia flinched at the strain in his voice.

A gloomy atmosphere manifested inside the garage as everyone received the words. The limit had been reached as the car was slowly losing its vivacious speed. He was deliberately losing control of the car and finally, as he turned, he drove directly onto a wall, a tire getting caught in the metallic borders of the track.

“You okay?” Xavi radioed.

“Yeah yeah—It’s a—sorry, guys—fuck. . .”

It was deafening, the silence. Only, excluding for the painful cries of self-loathing in resonating through Natalia’s headphones. She had to cover her eyes at the impact of the crash, as the pounding of her heart refused to settle down.

“Ah—fucking—FUCK!”

Natalia slid her headphones down to rest at her neck, hands shaking at the disappointment that echoed through Charles’ voice. She didn’t have the capacity to listen through the mournful anguish that flooded at her sympathy.

Without her headphones, she looked at the screen. A safety car has been deployed and the camera zoomed in on Charles climbing out the car. Frustration showing on his movements despite having a full body protective gear. He slammed his hands on the halo of his car as he stood up, before sliding his gloves off his hands, practically ripping them in the process.

“We focus on Sainz, now,” Fred droned, defeated as he molded back into his seat.

Charles couldn’t hear a thing aside from the organ protected by his ribcage pump at a merciless pace. His skin flushed underneath all the gear, as if it was weighing down his sanity further. His steps heavy as he strode to the Ferrari garage. A single thought crossing his mind.

There she sat, worry simmering at the pout of her lips, reflecting greatly with the dim clouding her eyes. As he neared her hunched form, she whipped around, gaping at him with an apologetic look on her face.

She was robbed of the chance to say something as he hauled her off her seat, strong grip on her arm. He dragged her with him, failing to take regard of Natalia’s worried glance at not only him, but most especially the pile of reporters crowding in front of the garage.

She tried to yank herself away from him but her strength was no match for his.

Xavi was quick to intervene just as they were out of the public eye.

“Charles!” He hissed, pulling at the angered Monegasque.

Natalia’s shock was as prominent as the tsunami of distaste cloaking Charles face. His brows pinned into a pointed stem, eyes shamelessly staring daggers and defeating Xavi’s own anger at the driver’s rash anger.

“Vous ne vous souciez pas de votre réputation?” Do you not care about your reputation? Xavi stressed, pushing at Charles’ chest as if to shake him back into rationality.

His loud scoff stabbed into Natalia’s hearing, causing her to wince. It differed entirely to whenever they were engaged in horseplay. The sweetened teasing was long gone, adamantly supplemented with bone-rattling fury.

“Ma réputation était foutue depuis longtemps!” My reputation was fucked long ago! He roared, retaliating with a hard shove of his own that sent Xavi propelling on the opposite wall.

“Charles!” Natalia shrieked, recovering from her frozen shock. “Calm the fuck down—” She went to check on the possibly injured man but the restraining grip on her arm contained her.

The protest died in her throat as the race engineer raised his hand, looking at her with reassuring ease. She was about to offer her more help but he simply upped and left like it was nothing.

Displeasure swam in her consciousness as Charles pulled her along with him to his room. He opened the door, urging her to sit down on her previous spot.

Like a controlled robotic figure, she complied. The energy to yell at him for his inappropriate behavior diminished as she came face to face with him.

Beneath the proper lighting, the marks left by his helmet scrawled lines onto his face. His tired eyes drooped in despair along with the noticeable sag of his shoulders as he arranged his racing gear.

Natalia observed he placed his helmet on the counter, fingers dragging on the shell, inducing a scrapping sound that matched his emotions.

He turned to face her, treading towards her in a slow manner. His knees hit the floor as he kneeled down to Natalia’s level.

Short puffs of breath lammed from her lungs at how little the expanse contained. She looked away, aware of the oddity in her stare.

“I didn’t win.”

The same disappointment lathered his tone but it was the arm he looped around her waist that caught her attention back to him.

She instantly wished she resisted the urge to look back as she was plowed down by his pleading crystalline orbs. Unable to tear her eyes from this hypnotic beauty, she wetted her chapped lips.

“That’s okay. . .” Natalia cringed at her weak assurance, but nonetheless weaved her fingers through his damp hair as if to compensate.

Charles flickered his eyes close as Natalia began to massage his scalp, the stress from the race draining away from his bones with every glide of her careful and dainty digits.

Natalia cocked her head to the side as Charles’ face relaxed, the lines on his forehead were no longer visible and his lips now rested into a soft smile.

“I’m sorry,” He grunted, tightening his grasp on her mid-section. “You’re gonna be all over the news.”

She bit her lips at the topic. Despite her awareness of the situation, she had completely ignored it, putting Charles’ ragging actions at a priority.

“They say things all the time,” She quipped, giving his brown locks a slight tug that got him to open his eyes and look into hers. The sincerity of his regret reflected in them. “At the very least, Toto being my alleged sugar daddy will finally stop. . .”

Charles knew that it was a prod to make him feel better, yet he took it without hesitation. His negative emotions were immediately dethroned at the sight of Natalia’s teasing smirk.

He bellowed out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back. “You’d rather have them think the engagement rumors are true?”

She screwed her face up, whacking him on the shoulder. “No, I’m just saying, it’d be nice if people stirred away from that repulsing narrative.”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause you looked like a hooker,”

Her jaw slacked, staring him down in the most disbelieving light she could ever imagine.

“Fuck off!” She giggled, stopping the vibration of his shoulders by landing a sportive punch near his chest.

A moment passes before Charles gains the courage to part Natalia’s denim-clad thighs, watching her reaction as he went further.

Seeing as there was no discomfort in her eyes, he slotted himself between the warmth of her legs, arms bracing his left arm beside her thigh while the other retained on her waist.

“I’m still on for that dinner, if you’re good to go. . .” Natalia wondered, tilting her head at him.

“Are you?” He hummed, drawing innocent patterns on the skin of her waist.

Goosebumps rose in the wake of Charles’ touch. He had risen the knitted top Natalia had worn, leaving the exposed skin at his mercy.

“It’s just dinner.” Her firm determination amused Charles, giving her a reassuring smile.

“It is.” He confirmed. “But I’d rather order in— I’m not up to be roasted in public after today.”

Natalia sympathized with his decision, squeezing his shoulder in the hopes to comfort him. “Of course, I understand.” She taps his cheek, pinching it softly between her finger.

Staying here would be the most logical option.

Her attempt to stand was quickly halted, as Charles’ arm on her waist pulled her back down.

A glint of confusion painted on both their features for different reasons.

“Where you going?”

“You said you wanted to order in.” She blinked owlishly at him, trying to figure out the miscommunication.

“I do.” He said, striking her with one of his compelling looks. “So, tell me what you want to eat,”

The wheeled dinged in Natalia’s bemused thoughts, nodding her head as she began to understand his implications.

“Oh—Oh! With me!” She amassed, as if assuring herself. At Charles’ validation, she started to think about her choice. “I’m not very good at picking specific food. I only look at the description and hope for the best, really.”

Charles smiled at her sheepish expression, bobbing his head in understanding. “Alright. I’ll order for you then.”

He got to his feet, shocking Natalia as he began unzipping his race suit.

She immediately looked away, face warming at the abrupt action. Shifting her gazing anywhere aside from the man appearing to be planning to undress in front of her.

Natalia swore she could hear the annoying smile growing on his lips as he said, “Relax I’m not taking my clothes off here. I still have to get an ice bath. We’ll go after.”

“Yeah— wait. . . Hold on, go where?” She questioned, raising her eyebrows.

Charles stalked to the door, laying his hand on the knob. His gaze lingered at Natalia’s, adoring the boiling thoughts evidently stowing in her eyes.

“Where else? At my apartment, of course.”

Oh— order in!

“You didn’t think we’d stay here all night, did you?”

Yes, she did. Embarrassingly so.

“Shut up, English isn’t my first language.” She grunted, hoping to save face.

Unsurprisingly, Charles crushed it as easily. Laughing at her futile attempt. “Mine too.”

She sighed, shooing him away. “Go jump in your ice water or whatever.”

Laughter rang through the halls as he opened the door, smile broadening at her crimson dusted cheeks.

He sent her a wink before leaving her to her own cluttered thoughts. She caught herself mapping out the possible scenarios that could take place in Charles’ apartment, weaving away from the inappropriate scenes flaunting in the premise of her own deliberations.

As she sunk herself deeper in the captivity of her brain, she fell short in noticing the coffin she had built herself into. Her abysmal empathy for Charles made her overlook the blaring details of her hesitance to join him for a meal— let alone be in his personal space.

Entering Charles’ apartment flared the consigned fear etched onto her senses. It wasn’t Charles that she feared. On the contrary she was afraid of compromising her self control more than anything else.

Lucky for her, the man in her thoughts share the same predicament as he sat rigidly in a tub of freezing water, plagued with similar impure thoughts running laps in his head. There was no doubt at all that Toto Wolff would castrate him alive and impale his head on a pike if he were to ever hear them.

Taglist: @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @janeholt3

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