#and talked about how his heart yearns for him and his feelings are unresolved in his dreams and 'perhaps i'm lying' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heartandfangs · 2 years

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I OWE YOU— PART FIVE.

GENRE Roommates AU, Playboy!Jake, Virgin!Reader, BestFriend!Heeseung, Heavy Smut, Slight Angst, Fluff (if you squint)

PAIRING f!Reader x Jake/Jayeun, f!Reader x Heeseung

WARNINGS 18+ ONLY, Cursing, Possessiveness, Manipulation, LOTS of jealousy, Implied one-sided feelings, Unresolved feelings, Trash talking, Alcohol, Flirting, Slight slow-burn, Morally-grey characters, Sexual inexperience, Sexual tension, Anxiety, Making out, Teasing, Finger sucking, Grinding, Breast worship, Brief rimming (very brief), Fingering, f!Receiving Oral sex, m!Receiving Oral sex, SoftDom!Heeseung, Sub!Reader

WORD COUNT +13k

SUMMARY In which you realize that your playboy roommate and your best friend share one common thread: their uninhibited desire for you. With Jake giving you the cold shoulder, you choose to indulge the latter this time around… consequences be damned.

AUTHOR'S NOTE Even if you're not caught up with the series, if you love Hee, you'd enjoy this part alone. 🫠 It came out a lot more romantic than I intended, but Heeseung's character just brought it out of me and it's not even in his own series– that's how badly he's been coming for me! 💗 But tbh it was a long time coming and set up in part 3, so letting soft dom Heeseung have his reign here. I added extra smut for you all which is why it took a week more than I said it would to post, but I think it was worth it. Fucking enjoy 🫶 I'm officially deceased, you’ll find me in my coffin ⚰️ (See end of work for cont. A/N)

YOU WISH, Part I, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Masterlist

TAGLIST @skzenhalove, @axartia, @stbwe, @duolingofanaccount, @writingmochi, @thejjrl@fan-zhan, @kazuhugs, @sweetnightleeheeseung, @rpkth, @btskpop17, @markleeisdabestdrug

It perturbed you how much your body yearned to be near Jake Sim.

Seemingly, Jake shared the same sentiment, despite having vied for your attention one day and then ignored you entirely the next, right after you rejected his kiss during your last encounter. It must've been the tipping point after you cruelly renounced your heated first kiss with him, chalking it up to anything but feelings despite you initiating it.

However, you were nearly beginning to wonder if you called it too soon; his feelings for you, that is. Not to say that you were in love with him; you knew better than that. But after much thought and a healthy amount of denial on your end, you were beginning to realize Jake had fallen for you in a twisted sense.

It was a challenging notion to wrap your head around. If he had, at what point had Jake fallen and why?

After all, that wasn't what Jake was about.

Your rejection of his romantic advances drew such a strong reaction from him, though, like the man wasn't sure what to do with himself. As if it was his first time dealing with such feelings, but he had to have gotten his heart broken at least once, right?

Although, it really seemed like Jake was infatuated rather than in love– because you were the sole one he'd yet to get his hands on from the start.

So, the dissonance in his behavior made sense after what had transpired between you two in that short time frame. Callousness was a reaction you hadn't anticipated coming from Jake– and you would never admit out loud that it hurt.

The ghost of Jake's touches lingered on every inch of your skin and had you rutting into your pillow late at night when the vivid memories of him persisted. A consequence of your carelessness, even though you knew what you were getting yourself into.

Jake had shown you facets of himself you hadn't even known existed beyond his mischievous persona and capricious way of living. He'd push your boundaries in ways that irked you but also expanded your little world. It was such an intriguing dynamic, one you could imagine yourself exploring further with him… perhaps without strings attached.

You never thought you'd come to consider such a thing, especially after how cold you've been with Jake and how precious things like first kisses once were to you.

Although Jake never verbally expressed it, he clearly thought otherwise and seemed to want you romantically. He was growing attached to you in ways he hadn't shown to have been in the past.

One kiss– and suddenly yours and his intentions swapped. How was that even remotely possible for him, let alone for you?

Two weeks had gone by begrudgingly slowly and each day was like a hellish repeat of the day prior, consisting of an unbearable tension you hadn't known was possible to exist between two people.

Jake would either rise earlier in the day or stay in later than you just to avoid contact. If either of you did happen to pass by each other in the common areas of the flat, no words were exchanged, and god forbid you made eye contact.

It was a good thing life had many distractions.

Being a working member of society meant that you were more than eager to get out of the four walls of your bedroom after being at your desk all week. Saturday evening arrived like the answer to your prayers, and since you didn't go out much, you intended to have as much fun as you could within your means.

A notification sounded from your phone, informing you that the Uber you were currently in was approaching one of your favorite speakeasies. The sound pulled you out of your thoughts, the blur of buildings starting to look familiar.

By recent habit, you tapped on your photo album to indulge the source of your guilt and irritation. Turns out when Jake stole your phone those couple weeks ago, he filled your gallery with ridiculous selfies— several blurry, taken at hilarious angles, and others, obnoxiously flirtatious, as if he intended to get a rise out of you.

He was shirtless in all of them, which only made your nerves hum, and your palms sweaty.

One photo in particular always made you feel hazy– Jake had fallen over your sheets, sweatpants hung low on his hips, and a veined hand wrapped around his neck like a choker, his demure, heavy eyes telling of his arousal for you.

Fantastic— As if you needed a fucking souvenir photo for that day.

In frustration, you slammed your head back on the headrest, drawing a concerned look from your Uber driver in the mirror. The car had come to a momentary stop in a free parking space.

"Sorry," you quickly apologized and hurried out of the car onto the busy streets of downtown.

A red neon sign that read Deities & Denizens glowed several feet above you, indicating that you were at your stop. You glanced at your reflection in a tinted window and smoothed your fingers over the soft velvet fabric of your dress, ending at the tops of your thighs.

The black dress dipped sharply to reveal the skin of your decollete, the panels wrapped and tied to the side of your waist. Its long fitted sleeves would keep you warm, as would your trusty thigh-high, suede boots you'd chosen for the night.

Thin, woven strands of leather kept them tied behind your thighs, and at the end of each dangled a silver horned charm. The heel gave you a couple of inches of height without compromising comfort, along with the false hope that you might have a chance at appearing less like a child next to Heeseung.

You pocketed your phone into your dress and ran your fingers over the simple diamond choker resting at the base of your neck; it was a lovely gift from your mother, who you hadn't seen in a long time, and you've only worn it out on occasion.

A gust of wind from the cars driving by swept your hair, and the bustling street activity along with the chatter of people caused a thought to intrude on your mind.

What if I had taken Jake instead?

With a frustrated huff, you dropped your arms to your sides and yanked open the door to the venue.

Why would I even think such a thing? I'm here to spend time with–

"Hey."

To your left stood the man of the hour with his arms crossed over his chest.

Immediately your face brightened upon seeing Heeseung, who gave you a small smile in return.

"What are you doing over there brooding against the wall for?"

"Waiting for you, of course," Heeseung replied.

Well, you set yourself up for that one.

"Yeah, I know– Sorry I'm a bit late."

Although Heeseung was as much of a wallflower as you were, his exquisite fashion sense consistently garnered attention from anyone in close vicinity. Dressed head to toe in black with a sleek leather coat and dress boots, he must've been drawing glances from strangers since he arrived, even appearing slightly intimidating to you despite knowing him.

Heeseung pushed off the wall and made his way towards you. He easily pulled you into his arms as you rose to the tips of your toes, barely able to thread your arms around his neck in a warm embrace without his help.

Immediately, you appreciated the proximity; after all, it was the first physical human contact you've had in weeks. Almost wanting to just fall limp against Heeseung, you opted to rest your cheek against his shoulder and take in the scent of his cologne. He smelled of warm musk, and subtle spice layered over crisp apples, reminding you of a crackling fireplace amid the cold woods.

Heeseung felt you relax against him and rubbed comforting circles against your back in response.

"You looked a little distressed there; something happen along the way here?"

Coming to your senses, you slipped your arms from his shoulders, but his hands settled on your hips, keeping you close. It startled you slightly, being able to feel the outline of his natural bulge press against you.

Breath catching, you replied, "...No. It was just a weird Uber drive. You know how those can sometimes be."

"Next time, let's just meet at your place, and we'll go from there together," he looked into your eyes, and you thought you imagined his thumb slowly dragging over the curve of your hip.

Gosh, Heeseung feels different.

"You're sweet," Taking his hand, you tugged him along to the back of the restaurant, "Next time."

His skin was warm to the touch, and you willed your palms from getting sweaty.

Heeseung leaned down, his warm breath tickling your ear, "You look beautiful tonight."

Even amongst all the noise, his gentle voice managed to send shivers across your skin.

"It's nice pretending to be a participating member of society once in a while," You smirked up at him, fighting the urge to shy away.

"It is nice, sometimes,” he agreed.

As you weaved between groups of people and servers alike, the aroma of the food spread on each table made your stomach growl.

"This place is pretty cool; the vibe reminds me of the 1920s," He looked over his shoulder, eyeing the busy old-fashioned bar drenched in warm lights, "Is this not where we're sitting?"

"Remember, it's a speakeasy– which means the bar we're going to is hidden further in," You turned around and stood in front of him as he came to a halt, "And you have to find it."

The both of you found yourselves in the middle of a dim hallway, luxurious glass cases filled with massive blocks of ice on trays to your left, rows of large steel kegs lining the furthest back wall behind you, and a mysterious door on your right.

An amused smile tugged at Heeseung's lips as he brushed by you and reached for the gold door knob, the most obvious choice.

He peered into it curiously before shutting the door, "That is a fancy bathroom."

You chuckled, stepping aside to watch him further explore the space while taking in… well, him.

Somehow Heeseung had grown since you last saw him in person; his shoulders had broadened, filling out his leather coat, and the slight angle of his jaw was more mature. A stranger probably wouldn't have guessed he'd move with such grace across the stage with his long limbs, but you knew how exceptional of a performer he was.

Everything from his subtly styled hair to the steel toe of his boots was impeccable; Heeseung naturally exuded an intriguing aura that people picked up on even when he wasn't on stage. Perhaps it came with the familiarity of being in the spotlight. You've never been the sort to care to perform in front of others, and with Heeseung, you've never had to.

Heeseung curiously ran his hand over the wall of steel kegs and shot you a questioning look.

"You're hot," you hinted.

"Am I?"

You rolled your eyes as Heeseung held his hand out to you with a glimmer in his eye, "Come on."

Without a second thought, you took his hand in yours.

Jake wove his palm over a flickering candle, hunched over his chosen glass of amber poison. Its heat stung, but only when he stayed put for too long.

It was no different with his sexual encounters.

He was reminded of how candlelight spilled over your serene expression in the bath and the mess of feelings that overcame him after your last tryst weeks ago. How he left you on your knees in that tub after everything— after he used you.

A pang of guilt throbbed in his chest, so he swallowed a mouthful of his drink, enduring the burn down his throat.

"So, handsome. What are you headed after this, my place or yours?" A perfectly manicured finger reached out to trace the back of his hand, and he instinctively retracted it.

… Instinctively?

"I don't have any plans, and I'll likely be keeping it that way for the rest of the night."

The woman huffed and shot an irritated look at him, then glared across the table at Jake's more relaxed companion.

Jake glanced over at Sunghoon, who had an arm draped around another random woman that suddenly appeared at their table about twenty minutes prior, already sipping on her third martini.

As the woman at Jake's side downed her drink, Sunghoon shrugged at his friend’s prickly demeanor. "Really, Jake? Hey Jay, can we get another—"

Said bartender quickly approached their table from the bar and directed a threat to the man under his breath, "I will personally slip cyanide into your drink if you order another Zombie, Sunghoon."

"It's for Jake; look at him. The poor guy needs to get fucked up a bit," Sunghoon insisted, brushing his fingers through his bleached locks, "And then maybe he'll tell us what the hell has been going on."

Jay gave the younger man a good look, taking in Jake’s unusual stony expression before nodding and rolling up his sleeves, "…Fine."

Just as Jay turned back to the bar, he paused in his tracks.

Sunghoon followed the bartender's line of sight to a young woman dressed in black, never mind the man next to her.

"Is she a regular?" He asked Jay.

Jake didn't bother to turn around or listen in to the ongoing conversation, fully caught up in his vehement thoughts about you.

Jay's attention snapped back to the task at hand, and he began pouring a couple of glasses of water behind the bar. "Even if she wasn't– don't even think about it."

"Why, you got dibs?" Sunghoon probed.

"No. She's just never come off as the type that'd give you a chance– Plus, she's brought company, for once."

Jay approached Sunghoon's short-term object of interest for the night, who was admittedly his favorite regular and her plus one, who Jay– if he were being honest with himself– was a bit envious of.

Heeseung's expression upon entering the speakeasy was absolutely priceless. His mouth fell agape upon noticing the long wall lined with rows upon rows of skulls to the left where you both stood. The walls reached the incredibly high ceiling, decorated with obscure framed paintings and portraits of people staring down at the unsuspecting diners.

On his right, several deep, inverted shelves that were tucked into the walls displayed an impressive stock of spirits and booze for the clientele's ailments. People occupied each booth and table, yet it wasn't nearly as noisy as the restaurant outside.

The room was bathed in warm, dim lighting from the individual tea lights scattered along the tables and the grand candle-lit chandelier hanging at the center of it all.

"It's like something out of Disneyland, isn't it?" You said.

"Feels like a cross between Pirates of the Caribbean and Haunted Mansion," He agreed, "It's right up your alley."

"Exactly," you smiled, tugging him to your reserved seats at the closest end of the bar.

On queue, a familiar face approached you.

"Hi, Jay."

"___," He greeted, replacing the reservation plaque on the marble counter with two glasses of water, "It's been a while, and you've brought company this time."

"I have! Meet my best friend, Heeseung."

"Hello, best friend," Jay nodded at Heeseung, who returned the gesture.

"Hello."

That drew a chuckle from you just as Jay brandished a menu with a flourish and slid it across the counter, "Let me know when you're ready, love."

"I will," you said shyly, unable to help yourself when interacting with the bold bartender.

Heeseung rapped his knuckles against the marble counter while looking after Jay as he walked off. He observed you closely as you studied the small, gold foiled menu.

You slid a hand over your stomach as it growled, "I swear, I'm about to order one of everything."

"The menu's not that big," Heeseung propped his chin up on his palm, "Why don't we?"

"Really?" You grinned, "You gonna help me finish it all?"

"Don't I always?"

"Yeah, yeah– keep thinking you put it away better than me," You drawled, finger running down the list of specialty cocktails to choose from, "What are you thinking drinks-wise?"

"Since you know what's good here, why don't you choose for me?"

"Aw, you trust me to get you something nice and sweet for your baby taste buds?"

Heeseung pouted, "I don't have baby taste buds."

"Yes, you do, Mister I'd like extra, extra sugar in my milk tea, please."

Heeseung gently nudged you sulkily, and you mischievously made a big show of nearly slipping off your stool. Just as he caught you, your hand shot out to grip his arm and steady yourself, a bit surprised to feel his muscles flex under his jacket.

"Geez! I almost fell on my ass."

He pulled you back onto your seat with ease, "You did not—"

"Ready for some drinks?" Jay suddenly reappeared after seeing your arms flail from across the room.

You straightened up, a smile plastered over your face. "Oh, yes. He'll have the Love Note, I'll have the Fallen Angel, and we'll get one of everything off the shareables."

Off to your side, Heeseung looked curious at the names of the cocktails you rattled off.

"I'll put those in for you…"

You thanked Jay, but it appeared he wasn't finished speaking with you.

"… So, I received an anonymous request. This shot is from the hottest guys in the room," Jay sighed loudly, holding a glass filled with a creamy citrine liquid, "And they want you to go figure out who it is."

You stared at Jay, and he visibly cringed. "Hint: it's not me."

Heeseung gave Jay a tight-lipped smile, clearly not amused.

"I completely understand if you don't want to tip me." The bartender set the single shot glass down in front of you and quickly turned on his heel to tend to other guests.

"What the hell?" Too curious for your own good, you scanned the dark room over your shoulder.

It was only a matter of seconds before you met the sharp gaze of a handsome young man with silver hair who sat on the opposite end of the room. A woman accompanied him, and another man with his back turned to you.

The man facing you whispered something to his companion before sending an enticing wink your way. The girl at his side sent you a nasty look at the attention you were receiving, causing you to avert your eyes.

Unsettled and feeling a heat work up your neck, you were glad Heeseung couldn't see your face.

Then his dark haired companion turned your way, appearing somewhat lethargic until his sights settled on you. The same mixture of disbelief spread across both your faces.

Jake.

Heeseung paused. "Isn't that your roommate?"

"Yes," Your stool creaked as you turned back to the counter and stared down at the shot. It smelled sugary and citrusy; Heeseung would probably like it. "Yes, and I have no clue what's going on right now."

Jake's appearance at one of your favorite bars had to be coincidental. It wasn't his idea to send a shot over and get your attention, right? Did his friends even know what you looked like? He's never had them over except girls, and you've never taken any photos together, but it's possible Jake spilled everything to them…

Shit. Did he actually? You hadn't even told Heeseung yet, but you hadn't exactly been planning on it.

Heeseung blinked at you in silence before his eyes narrowed in on your roommate. The last time they'd seen each other was through your laptop's screen, and Jake had been all up in your space if he remembered correctly.

Clearly, something had gone down between the two of you.

Jake couldn't take his eyes off you, even as you tried to duck your head out of sight… until he felt Heeseung's scrutinizing stare.

If looks could kill.

"Shall we people watch for old times sake? I'm sure it'll make them uncomfortable if they see us whispering to each other while staring at them," Heeseung suggested.

You couldn't help but laugh out loud despite your nerves.

In college, there had been countless nights you'd spent together in boba cafes while people-watching and whispering made-up stories of strangers' lives for fun.

Perhaps it was a bit juvenile and silly of you two, but the stories you two spun had you doubled over in laughter by the end of the night. The two of you always did it on the down-low, but Heeseung must've been feeling a little bolder today.

"…What do you think about the guy with my roommate?" You asked distractedly, preferring to speculate about Jake's friend rather than himself.

Heeseung spun your stool back around, so you both faced the suspected try-hards of the night. When his hand rested on the small of your back, you straightened up in your chair.

"He's likely a player if the guy's hanging around your roommate. Probably still in college and wants to hang with the big boys. I wouldn't be surprised if he pulled that stunt with the shot— tacky birds of a feather flock together."

"Damn, you're not pulling any punches tonight, are you?"

"I don't feel inclined to these days… it's an easy read."

Sunghoon's expression slowly shifted into a frown as he convened with Jake, who'd quickly turned his back on you.

You snickered, "I'd agree with you. The silver-haired kid probably secretly has a mommy kink."

Heeseung choked on his water, sending you into a fit of giggles only feeling a bit apologetic. He quickly recovered himself, shaking his head at you in disbelief.

"Sure you didn't pregame before meeting me here?"

"Hey, I'm here to have all the fun with you tonight!" You said.

"Right… So, what’s in our drinks?"

You shot him a sly look at how quickly he changed the subject but decided to go along with the flow.

“Love Note’s got vodka, gin & crème de violette. It's like a cloudy purple and looks a bit mysterious, but it's partly fizzy and tastes like candy. Even the presentation reminds me of you; you'll see when it comes," Heeseung found himself bashfully glancing down at his lap as you continued, "Fallen Angel supposedly has crème de menthe with gin & sugar in it. Not sure how that combination is with lime, but I thought, why not give it a try? Sometimes the names of drinks are enough to get me to taste it."

"Is menthe essentially mint? Kind of sounds like a toothpaste cocktail—"

"Don't even start," you warned, pressing a finger into his chest.

Heeseung chuckled and you pursed your lips, the two of you sitting back to observe your surroundings again in comfortable silence.

To your annoyance, your eyes kept wandering back to Jake; you had to force yourself from staring at his back, feeling the weight of his unexpected presence on your shoulders.

Giving Heeseung your full attention was challenging when so many things were pressing on your mind. Part of you wanted to leave after seeing Jake, but you didn't want to ruin your night with your best friend.

And even though you didn't owe Jake anything, you also felt the pressure to say something after weeks of silence, but you weren't sure what, and this certainly wasn't the place to do so.

Suddenly, the tips of Heeseung's fingers began tracing lazy shapes across your back as if he knew you'd drifted away in your thoughts. His touch sent tingles sparking across your skin, causing you to press your thighs together.

Oh gosh, what was he doing?

You felt Heeseung staring at you with a knowing look, and in a panic, you quickly reached for the forgotten shot on the counter before giving it a quick taste.

"Lemon drop. Try it," You tipped the glass towards him.

Heeseung's long fingers curled around yours as he took the glass and knocked it back.

While Heeseung ran his tongue over his lips in consideration, you hadn't realized you were licking at your own, mirroring him. "Tastes like sour candy and vodka. I would've gotten you something different."

"Like what?"

"Just champagne, and lots of it," He said simply, setting down the empty glass.

"Quit making me out to be a drunk," you bumped his knee with yours and gave him an accusing look that had him beaming.

A chic string of notes filled your ears and drew your attention to the corner of the room; a live band had shuffled in and begun playing a sultry-sounding number that was a bit on the R&B side. Heeseung's hand dragged across your spine, causing you to squirm.

"___. Want to dance?"

You hunched your shoulders, at the thought. "Heeseung, you know I'm no good at dancing. I haven't had enough to drink yet to get into it. I really can't–"

"Dance with me," he whispered lowly.

The cocky look he gave you said you had no chance of skipping out this time. That this would be very different from the times you'd stubbornly stay on the sidelines whenever he found himself in the middle of a dance floor at the occasional family party you dragged him to.

Without a crowd to hide in, this just might be the first time in a while that Heeseung would push you out of your comfort zone. Whatever happened to the boy who let you have your way?

He threw his coat onto his seat and was already gently pulling you forward. With stiff limbs, you stumbled over to the small dance floor while hiding your face by staring at the tips of his leather shoes.

Suddenly, you felt his warm hand brush the sides of your cheek as he delicately tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the slightest frown pulling at his features.

"What?"

Honestly, Heeseung didn't like seeing you like this, believing that you deserve the spotlight with how beautiful you looked… And perhaps for a more selfish reason.

His gaze turned chilly as he spotted your obnoxious roommate, keenly aware of his nuisance of a friend that sent you a shot, even picking out the slick-haired bartender who seemed to have garnered your warmth.

Heeseung turned back to you, releasing a deep breath that you didn't think much of, "I was just thinking about how popular someone is these days."

You merely scoffed, “Never.”

"Why not?" He challenged.

You gave him a look as though the answer were obvious, "I'm me."

Heeseung sighed, and decided to let it go for the time being.

Oblivious girl, he thought.

On the other hand, he found it cute how your hands tried to find somewhere comfortable to rest, frantically running over his arms and shoulders in a fuss.

With a chuckle, he caught your shaky hands before placing one just above his chest and clasping the other with his own.

"Are you trying to tickle me?"

"No, my anxiety is just through the roof right now," you admitted.

"Let's just sway," Heeseung held you by the waist and turned you around; that way, you could only see the band playing over his shoulders rather than the curious crowd, "Easy. You can do that for me, right, love?"

He's teasing me, isn't he?

When you said nothing and merely bit your lip, looking up at him cheerlessly, Heeseung grinned and pulled you tighter against him in reassurance.

"I hate you," You uttered while furrowing your brows at him.

That was far from what he was hoping to hear from you that night.

"... I've missed you."

In the blink of an eye, his expression suddenly turned troubled, and you were taken aback at his seriousness. It was difficult to discern the reason for the affliction in his eyes.

"I've… missed you too."

There was no doubt that he could feel your heart beating wildly through your rib cage while you followed his lead, stepping side to side at a pace that was way too slow for the song. Regardless, Heeseung didn't seem to care about being behind one bit, proud that you were slowly catching onto the rhythm he set for you.

The odd look in his eyes lingered, even as he masked it with a smile and praised you.

"You've got it."

However, he placed too much trust in you when he spun you around in a twirl, your stomach lurching when you felt the heel of your shoe catch on the floor.

You cursed as you rocked backward, trying to brace yourself to meet the hard floor. The room swirled and then went still at the oddest angle in your vision.

To your relief, Heeseung's hands effortlessly supported your back and secured your wrist, suspending you in mid-air. At the angle he held you at, the room appeared upside down, and you found that you couldn't pull yourself up without his help.

"Heeseung–"

"Relax, ___," Heeseung's lips brushed against the pulse of your neck, an unexpected moan slipping past your lips, "I'm not going to let you fall."

Oh fuck…

Blood rushed to your head and downwards— pulse throbbing between your thighs as he finally pulled you right side up, securing you against him. With Heeseung pressed between your legs for the second time that night, you realized you didn't need several drinks to make you feel intoxicated.

Your surroundings were a blur as he led you across the floor, oblivious to Jake's steely eyes searing into you with longing from across the room.

"Heeseung," You repeated, more urgently this time.

The man noticed the shift in your tone and although you tried to sound intimidating, the underlying neediness in your voice nearly set him off.

The two of you stumbled into the back hallway, the live music growing quieter, and the sound of blood rushing through your ears suddenly audible. Heeseung steadied you by the waist as he pressed near, your back quickly hitting a wall as you did your best to quiet your pants.

Deeply affected by the culmination of his touches and whispers against your skin all night, you struggled to get your thoughts in order.

He just–

"What is it, ___?"

Taken aback at his nonchalance, you searched his eyes, almost crumbling under the intensity of his stare. You glanced at your boots, needing a distraction with your heart rate rapidly picking up.

"M-my boot is untied."

Heeseung blinked while you reached down to fix it, but he was much quicker than you.

Lightly dragging his hands down the sides of your body, he dropped to his knee, presenting you with an indulgent view of him at your feet.

Heeseung's nimble fingers grazed the skin of your bare thigh, causing your teeth to tuck against your bottom lip as he adjusted the suede fabric in place. He reached behind your leg and caught the thin leather tassels to tighten in a pretty knot, the horned charm dangling against your calf.

His hands never left your skin, even as his gaze flickered up at you.

You could only stare back, the concept of time arresting for you both. The slightest of Heeseung's touches made your core clench in want, thoughts devolving into a jumbling mess of insistent urges.

He saw it all over your face, but you still tried to suppress it.

"I could've–"

Before you got another word out, Heeseung tenderly pressed his lips to the curve of your thigh, his warm palms sliding over your skin.

Oh.

Your last shred of self-control slipped from your grasp upon feeling arousal drip down your inner thigh, your hands slapping over your mouth in shock. Heeseung pulled back his hand to inspect the wetness, assuming it to be sweat… until realization hit him.

"___," He said darkly.

"Fuck– I'm so sorry–" Wanting more than nothing but to disappear into thin air, you tried to get past him only to be caged in by his arms.

"Where do you think you're going?"

When you clutched at his shoulders, he sought your undivided attention with piercing eyes that you refused to meet.

"I'm sorry, I can't..."

Heeseung's voice softened as he moved his hand to thumb at your lips. "It's okay, baby. You can't what?"

To stay or to leave; your mind and body battled.

This is your best friend.

"I can't keep it together anymore," your voice fell to a hush, but he caught it all.

With a shaky breath, you slid your hands down his chest, feeling his taut muscles underneath his shirt– sensed him shudder with the difference in how you touched him this time.

When your gaze fell to his lips, Heeseung leaned forward until you pulled him against you, not an inch to spare between your bodies.

Once your lips slid together, you noted every detail about how he kissed you, how his tongue tasted bright and sweet as he heavily caressed yours in a way that made your mouth water. The kisses he gave you were deep and coaxing, never quite overpowering but certainly leaving you wanting so much more.

And the way he held you, no differently than the self-assured manner in which he did out on the dance floor, had you wondering why you never entirely gave yourself over to his embrace in the first place.

You hadn't noticed you were pressing your hips against his until he gripped beneath your thighs, hoisting you into his arms. Naturally, your legs wrapped around his waist, hands threading around his neck to run through the soft hair at his nape.

Your eyes fluttered when he quickly rolled his hips into your core, your whiny moans muffled against his mouth. He was already so hard, and you were dripping.

"Oh, you like that."

"Hee—" You pulled away to catch your breath, but Heeseung merely dipped his head to press sweet kisses above the swell of your breasts, running his tongue along your gleaming choker.

"Too much, baby?"

"No, but—" His thumbs rolled over your sensitive nipples through your velvet dress, causing more whimpers to leave your lips. "Mmn, fuck— Why are you doing this for me?"

"I could ask you the same question," he peered up at you and began to kiss along the soft line of your jaw, struck by how you melted into his touch, "Why do you think?"

"Hee, I can barely think right now," you huffed against his neck, mouthing a kiss against his pulse in return, "Back lounge, on my left. Hurry."

Once he set off in the right direction, you should've taken a moment to catch your breath but instead, you laved your tongue over the protruding curve of his throat, teasing over his adam's apple. The heat of your mouth drew a deep moan from him, a sound you’ve never heard, full of something akin to frustration and hunger.

Heeseung threw open the door, barely considering his surroundings as he laid you down onto the nearest ruby red couch, pressing you into the luxurious cushions. His hands left your body only to slam the door shut; then, they were back on your hot skin, roaming, and pleasuring, along with his lips.

The moment Heeseung felt your nails dig into his shoulder blades, he lifted his head from the crook of your neck, voice straining as if he were holding himself back, “Use your words with me, baby. For once, don't leave me guessing what's inside your head."

Oh, you want to tell him you're aching.

That you've been aching inside since your first love left you feeling empty. That although you took back what you wanted from Jake and more, you still felt so unfulfilled for reasons you couldn't place.

Even now, as you realized Heeseung harbored feelings of some kind for you and that you'd been insistently ignoring Jake's odd ways of expressing his own.

I'm moving too fast again, aren't I? There's a pattern here, you thought, as Heeseung captured your lips sweetly with his.

What did this pattern mean, and what did it say about yourself?

"I don't want to lose you," You gripped his shoulders, "If I let you do this, I'll lose you."

"___, you're not going to lose me." Heeseung dragged his lips against yours again, unable to get enough of you.

Something deep inside you knew that wasn't true, not because of your lack of faith in Heeseung, but in yourself. Still, you chose to ignore it.

"You can't just do this," You finally got out in between kisses, "It's not fair."

Heeseung chuckled against your lips, "What isn't fair?"

"The way you've been acting all night, this isn't like you."

"Not like me, huh? That just proves we don't spend enough time with each other nowadays."

When your hand gripped his jaw, Heeseung bit his lip and swallowed a groan. "So, you do this to girls often? Flirt with them all night just to have your way with them?"

"No, I'm not like your roommate, ___."

The mention of Jake made you freeze, and Heeseung took note of it, eyes hardening.

"When I touch you like this," Heeseung dipped his fingers between your thighs, dragging them against your lace-covered pussy, and began to rub circles, "When I kiss you—," he licked into your mouth with a sigh, tasting your sweetness, and was delighted when you granted him more access, "— I mean it."

Momentarily, your eyes squeezed shut at the intensity of it all, your hand twisting into the collar of his shirt.

Heeseung drove his point home when he took your hand and guided it to his lap, breath hitching when you didn't hesitate to palm his hard cock through his pants.

"Only you make me like this," he admitted breathlessly.

You felt him up, kneading your hand firmly along his thick length. "Since when?"

Heeseung shook his head, inching ever closer, his thumb brushing over your flushed cheek. Those half-lidded eyes of his that bore into you had your panties dripping with arousal. "I don't think you would believe me if I told you, ___."

You were genuinely surprised at the suggestion of his words.

"... I don't let just anyone kiss me, you know?"

"I know. I know," Heeseung punctuated with a graze of his lips across your collarbone, "So let me do this for you."

He switched from rubbing circles against your clit to dipping his fingers into your entrance through your panties to collect your wetness. Unhurried, the pads of his fingers spread it along the swollen lips of your pussy.

"You're soaked, baby."

You were fast approaching the point of no return for you two, if not already there.

"T-this is going to change things between us, Heeseung."

He paused. "Do you want that?"

There was nothing to be guaranteed about this exchange except for the inevitable drastic shift in your relationship with Heeseung. And even though he told you that you would never lose him as a friend, you questioned being able to guarantee him the same reassurance. Could the two of you come back from this unchanged?

You weren't sure what you wanted to be to him, and vice-versa. All you knew was that you needed him like this, right here and now.

Why? Why am I like this?

"… I don’t know, I just know I want you." His eyes widened in slight surprise for a split second before they turned roguish, a haze overcoming them.

"Alright then. Either you tell me what you want…" He tapped on your clit playfully, making your hips twitch "… Or you tell me when to stop."

"I don't have anything like a condom and I’m not on a pill," you admitted, knowing Heeseung would understand, "But do whatever else you want to me, Hee. Just promise me you'll make me come hard, please?"

Heeseung nodded, and it drove you nuts when he took his hand off your pussy to toy with the neckline of your dress while he leaned over your chest.

"Oh, I can do that for you and more."

His hands slid under the deep collar of your midnight black dress to reveal your swelling breasts and pert nipples. Heeseung parted his lips as though to take one of your tits into his mouth, but his warm breath only ghosted over your nipples, a smirk slowly pulling at his lips as he watched you pull your hair out.

Now he has the self-control to slow down?

"A-ah, don't tease me, Hee. You've teased me all night."

"You know, I've had that image of you with your pretty set of tits out in your kitchen burned into my memory ever since it happened. Hence, a bit of harmless teasing is only fair," Heeseung kneaded your breasts in his hands before he chose a peak to ripple his warm tongue against.

Inwardly you screamed, never expecting to hear those words come from Heeseung's lips, let alone see them wrapped around your tits. With the way he worked his mouth, you figured you could stay beneath him all night.

"Haah— what have you done with the Heeseung I know and love?" You whined half-heartedly, embarrassed that he brought up that mishap of you dropping your towel in front of him over that damned video call.

"I'm still here," He pressed a light kiss to your chin, "But I'm sure with some time you'll come to love this side of me too– So don't shy away from me, ___," he reached up to stroke your cheek tenderly before he leaned back down and switched between engulfing each of your nipples in tight, moist kisses.

Heeseung would deepen the kiss against your breasts and suckle a little harder each time, provoking your moans to grow louder along with his pace.

Fuck, you had almost forgotten how amazing this felt like.

Feeling desperate, you caught his wrist to lick a stripe against his palm and along the length of his fingers, needing something to do with your mouth. Heeseung slid two of his fingers past your lips, and you eagerly sucked on them, letting your tongue swirl over his knuckles and messily coat them in your saliva.

Heeseung's groan rumbled against your breast, causing you to moan against his digits and buck your hips into his waist. His mouth slid off your tit, giving each one a final caress with his tongue, then he tugged you up to sit against the back of the smooth couch cushions.

Your head spun; it was utterly dizzying to be worshipped by him.

"Please, don’t stop touching me," you urged.

"I know, let me give it to you, baby,” Heeseung cooed, “Let me make your aching pussy feel better."

Once he had you situated and comfortable, he sank to his knees between your legs, and just the rough appearance of him made your clit throb. Heeseung's dark hair was a bit disheveled from your entanglements, and his lips were swollen, glistening in the loveliest way. Then it hit you that he was still clothed from head to toe, to your disapproval.

"Come here and let me take off your shirt."

Heeseung obediently sat up on his knees, and you leaned over, roughly dragging your hands down the center of his torso, the buttons to his black silk shirt giving under your fingers with a pop. He pushed back your hair to mouth kisses just under your ear, distracting you a bit.

Once you undid his shirt, you made a point to admire his lean physique, unmistakably that of a dancer's. With too much excitement, you pushed his shirt past his broad shoulders to reveal his sculpted chest and abs.

"Wow," your brows rose as you trailed your touch down his chest, "You're literally ripped."

"It sort of comes with the job…" He glanced down at the carpet, a small smile tugging at his lips.

There was that shy boy you were all too familiar with, but the moment Heeseung met your eyes again, he'd switched back to his current self, his gaze abounding with desire– and suddenly, you were the one faltering under his attention.

His bulge had remained prominent in his pants and empathizing with his needs, you reached down to touch him. However, he caught your hand.

"Let me take care of you first," Heeseung pulled you into a heated kiss, palms stroking along your inner thighs.

Oh god.

It was impossible to keep track of how many times Heeseung kissed you so far in the night, but somehow, each one felt sweeter than the last.

"Still wet for me?"

"Yes," you shuddered as he trailed kisses down your stomach, hovering over your clothed mound.

Heeseung slipped his fingers under the lacy waistband of your panties and peeled the soaked fabric back from your pussy. He was enraptured with the way the strands of your slick fell against your skin, the scent of your arousal making his entire body ache.

"So pink and pretty," He sat back and spread his knees to steady himself between your legs, "Have you tasted yourself, ___?"

Flustered, you hesitated to answer, but when Heeseung inclined his chin, the truth came out, "...Yes."

"Naughtier than I thought," Heeseung tugged off your panties from your ankle and shot you a mischievous look when he brought the soaked fabric to his lips, "Bet you taste sweet."

He wouldn't—

Heeseung ran his tongue over the pool of wetness on your lace panties, collecting your arousal on his taste buds. The feverish look he sent you had you reeling.

“Hee…”

"I was right, but I think you're sweeter from the source."

Speechless, your face burned, and your clit tingled as he tucked your panties into his back pocket and pulled you closer to him by your hips.

"Guess I'll just have to find out."

Heeseung dragged the tip of his tongue around your engorged lower lips, coming teasingly close to your clit just to blow a cold gust of air on it.

"Oh my god, Hee, please," Your body trembled with unbearable tension as you tried to lift your hips towards him, chest heaving because of his torment on your body. "Don't tease—"

Finally, Heeseung flattened his tongue and sloppily lapped up your slit to capture your clit against his lips. You threw your head back as a moan ripped from your throat, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. There was no way the sensation of getting eaten out could ever get old to you. Although it was only your second time, you were positively addicted.

And Heeseung devoured you with fervor, the feelings he'd built up for you over the years finally releasing through this outlet of pleasuring you. He continuously rolled his tongue over your clit, and suckled kisses over the nub, the moist sounds mixed with his muffled groans filling your ears.

He felt so soft on your pussy— a perfect mix of gentle and frenzied to push you over the edge.

"Ahn, fuck, you’re so good at this..." You praised while stroking Heeseung's hair away from his eyes; you were surprised to see the immense fondness in them.

With a twinge in your chest, you realized there was no way you were his first, not with how skilfully he used his tongue. When did your Heeseung grow up in between graduating from university and the present day?

Heeseung noticed your expression waver and immediately picked up the pace, pulling you back into the moment. He wriggled his tongue back and forth on your clit, and held you open by your thigh while his middle finger dragged up your entrance.

"A-ah! I haven't yet…"

With much difficulty, Heeseung released your clit with a smack and looked over you curiously. "You haven't what yet, baby?"

"I haven't fingered myself yet," You caught your breath, trying to read his reaction.

"Oh," He considered your words while playing with your wetness by circling his thumb over your pussy, "I'd rather we do what you're comfortable with then, baby."

"Well, I want to try it with you… if you go slow." You nibbled on your lip, trying to control yourself when Heeseung's insistent touches kept you squirming.

"Yeah? I promise I'll be very gentle. Tell me if you don't like it, and we'll stop," Heeseung rubbed his cheek against your thigh, his sweet eyes crinkling as he gave you a pleased smile, "I wanna know all the things that make you tick..."

With that, his mouth was back on your pussy, lovingly working you open and getting you back into the mood, so you were thoroughly soaked to take his fingers.

Knowing how much you liked it, Heeseung reached up to squeeze your tits and rub at your sensitive nipples, eliciting a muffled moan from you as struggled to stay quiet. The combined stimulation of all your sweet spots had you reeling, the start of an orgasm building in your core.

Heeseung pulled back only to cover his index and middle finger with his own saliva as he observed your conflicted expression from under his lashes.

In that moment, he realized he’s never wanted to ruin you more than now.

Swiping his tongue over his lips, he twisted a single finger against your entrance, mixing his saliva with your slick. At the slightest pressure, your pussy gushed with arousal.

"Hnhn, H-Hee–"

"Relax, baby, you can let me in. I'll go slow, promise. One finger at a time."

Determined to keep from clenching, you released a breath and calmed your nerves, your hands moving to squeeze your tits out of comfort. Heeseung took the opportunity to press into your warm folds, and you felt him nudge even deeper inside you.

"You're doing so well for me, ____. Want me to keep going?"

"Yes," you nodded and felt his knuckles slowly push past your slit to stroke against your velvet walls.

"Oh shit–" You seized around his digit and spilled more of your wetness onto his hand.

"Feel that, how deep I am?" Heeseung felt so hot, rubbing your insides so wonderfully, and it was just the effect of his single finger.

"T-this is intense..."

"Your body knows it was made to take this," his voice deepened, "See?"

Heeseung took his sweet time, letting you feel every sensation of him slowly pumping in and out of your tightening walls. A surge of wetness accompanied his fingers each time he pressed in, your insides overreacting to his intrusion while you mesmerized him.

"God, you won't stop dripping, baby," he remarked in awe, swiping his tongue along your pussy to lap up your wetness.

"A-another," you splayed your hands out against the velvet sofa and coerced him with a grind of your hips, feeling as if you were about to go insane.

Immediately Heeseung appeased you; he worked a second finger into your tightness, attempting to stretch your walls that resisted him. So he eased out slightly— pressing back in at the halfway point— and peppered your thighs with kisses. At the same time, he thumbed your clit to give you a break you didn't realize you needed.

Of course, you thought he was only teasing you to death, and two could play at that game.

"More," you untied your dress completely, letting it fall open while you fondled your breasts seductively from above him, "I want more."

"Need more of my fingers inside of you, baby? Is one not enough for this tight pussy?" Heeseung smirked at how quickly your demeanor shifted in comparison to just before he began to finger you.

The intense pressure in his pants persisted, but he was doing his damndest to keep himself in check, determined to see you come undone first. Because the moment you walked into the lobby, he felt it in the air, in the way you nearly dissolved in his arms; you needed this.

"Yes, yes— need more of you," you begged.

So Heeseung didn't hesitate to resume fitting his knuckles past your walls, and once he felt your insides give, he filled you with his fingers. The man didn't give a damn about your slick spilling past his wrist and soaking into the velvet texture of the sofa— he was much too preoccupied with the way your beautiful body writhed under him, testing him.

The stretch of his fingers was perfect, your luscious moans and the deep flush over your skin incredibly telling of your pleasure.

"Ahn, haah, Hee…"

Heeseung curled his fingers against a sweet spot deep inside of you, and laved his tongue over the expanse of your pussy, sucking tenderly at your clit.

“R-right there,” you sobbed, squeezing your eyes shut.

There was no way you'd last any longer at this relentless pace; you were already arching off the cushions, and Heeseung had to hold your hips down with his free hand to finish you off.

He moaned deeply against your clit upon feeling your fingers thread through his hair to brace yourself against him, his lips and tongue working together to suckle and plunge into your pussy ‘till you spilled your sweetness against him.

"Oh god, oh god, ohhh god…"

"C'mon, sweetheart," Heeseung sped up and slid his fingers from your entrance only to twist them back in at the perfect angle, "Want you to soak yourself, want to taste you on my tongue for the next week— come on me, baby."

"Heeseung– Hee–" Your hips jerked against his face once, twice— and you nearly blacked out from the ecstasy of his tongue shaking against your clit, his fingers heavily stroking your insides even though you squeezed him like a vice.

You were falling apart in a way you never have before, the closest you've ever been to being filled, and you could almost cry from the crashing waves of pleasure flooding your body. Everything felt so blindingly sweet; it was incredible.

When your tremors began to subside, you could barely open your eyes and prop yourself up to look at him, taking in one of the biggest messes you've ever been a culprit of— from the soaked cushion underneath you to Heeseung's cum stained lips and chin. His reddened cheeks and jaw were glistening as well and you felt like fainting on the spot.

Heeseung wasn't quite done with you because he pressed your knees into your chest and buried his hot tongue inside you with a deep squelch. He continued to lap lower between your cheeks, then back over your taint, and along your folds to kiss your swollen nub.

"Mmmn," He hummed against your skin teasingly, and there was no way you could hold yourself up anymore, so you fell back with a breathy moan, fingers tugging on anything of his that you could grab hold of.

"Fuck, Hee!"

An excess of heat spread across your face, body trembling from Heeseung's rather passionate acts. Pleased with your reactions, he sat back and massaged his palms over your legs as helped you stretch them out, a wince pulling at your features.

"Such an obedient pussy. You took my fingers so well for your first time, baby," Heeseung smiled, mouthing along your thigh.

How were you supposed to move a muscle after that? You felt drunk out of your mind.

"T-that felt so good, Hee."

"Yeah? How good?"

All you could do in response was tug him against your lips for a kiss that lasted until you both had to break for air.

Why was it so easy to kiss him?

Heeseung's eyelids lowered as he stood up and slid against your side. "Huh, so good enough for a second time?"

"Maybe," You shoved at his chest, and he fell back against the sofa cushions while you climbed over him, "It was good enough for me to want to do something about it right now, so I'll let you choose."

You steadied yourself over his lap on the sofa and ran your fingernail along his pant zipper, still a bit shaky from your orgasm. "When you come, do you want my pussy rubbing on your cock or my tongue?"

Heeseung looked genuinely conflicted. "...What if I want a little bit of both?"

"Both?" You questioned, unsure if you should be flattered or taken aback, "For you, I could make an exception… Why, you want me every which way that badly, baby?"

Heeseung grazed your chin with his thumb. "___, I'm just being greedy since I haven't seen you in so long."

"… Tell me, why all of this all of a sudden?"

Heeseung settled back against the couch with a sigh and pulled you onto his lap, quietly considering your question. You let him, but neither of you moved besides his palms caressing over your hips. Part of you was hoping to get some insight into his feelings for you without this being an outright interrogation.

"It may seem sudden to you, but it's not for me," He admitted, “Back then, I leaped at any opportunity to hang out, like when you'd invite me to study at your favorite boba shop after classes. You were always the focused sort, and I admired you for it, but when we'd sit at those long tables, and you'd lay your head on my lap while you slept— well my thoughts would run wild."

"Seriously?" You smirked, "How wild?"

"Shamelessly so. The depraved side of me thought about you laying on your stomach next to me and quietly unzipping my pants to suck on my cock while no one was looking. The equally terrible, naive side of me wanted to pull a Sleeping Beauty, but I knew I would've gotten my ass beat, and rightfully so."

Holy shit.

"That’s so… I can't believe you thought about me that way," You murmured, despite the reframing of your innocent memories with Heeseung making your face burn.

"I know, but can you blame me? I mean," He ran his fingers up the side of your waist, admiring your figure, "Look at you, you're beautiful."

"I am so embarrassed right now," You admitted under your breath.

He held your hands against his chest and chuckled when you started shrinking away. What else were you supposed to do under such circumstances? Heeseung was the sweetest, but there was only so much attention you could take in a night.

"Hey, don't get shy with me because that's not all."

"It's not?"

"No. ___, you had your shit together, and I was just a kid who probably wouldn't have survived university without you whipping my ass into gear. I always looked up to how you took care of the people around you, even if it was your special brand of tough love."

You stifled a laugh by biting down on your lip, taking in his words.

"I felt special being one of the few, but I knew you had a reputation for being a bit of a heartbreaker. People who dared to ask you out never stood a chance," Heeseung smiled, then hesitated, "... I never got the chance to tell you, but I got into some relationships after we graduated. One was a little more serious than the other, or so I thought."

He failed to hide the disappointment and hurt in his expression when your features wilted in confusion. It was impossible to identify the untold feelings you experienced in that very second, but most of them had to do with the astonishing fact that Heeseung had fallen in love when you weren't looking; when you should have been looking out for him as his best friend.

"They didn't work out, and it was for reasons out of my control," He glanced at you, and was touched to see your concerned expression, "But you know how it goes sometimes."

Heeseung knew about your first love, which you'd shared with him long ago— but he didn't know about Jake.

Stunned, your mind raced for something to say in response. Even though you nodded slightly and remained quiet, he could see you processing his words with a forlorn expression.

"It's okay. It's one of those things you come out stronger from, you know?" Heeseung reassured you, even though it should have been the other way around, "I only brought that up because I could never get enough of you back then— even now."

Absentmindedly, he ran his hands down your arms; his even gaze slowly descending your body, making you even more breathless, in your emotional state.

"I always wished you were my first, it made the most sense, but I made my choices. I guess I was too reserved with my feelings and didn’t realize I should be a little more honest with myself until we started doing our own separate thing. It's hard, but I've been trying to be better at that."

"Heeseung."

Just the way you sighed his name had him lightheaded as if he weren't already hanging on a thread with you in his arms. It was almost too much when you cupped his cheek with your palm. His eyes fluttered shut for a mere moment before they took you in with deep affection.

Heeseung continued, "I know you, ___, so tell me later when you've taken some time to think. Way down the line, after we've caught up and you've given me the time of day to properly express everything to you," He pressed close to you, his lips barely brushing yours, eyes steady, "But please don't make me wait too long. I'm here when you need me... when you want me."

"Like now?" You asked, already knowing his answer.

"Yeah— like now."

With a gentleness that threatened to undo you entirely, Heeseung moved his lips against yours, causing a fluttering in your stomach that was reminiscent of what should have been your first.

So many should-haves and could-haves.

However, Heeseung in all of his abilities was intent on disallowing you to dwell too long on the past. His restless lips on your skin and hard body beneath yours served as a reminder that in the present moment, he wasn't anywhere in the world but right here with you.

The entire expanse of your skin felt ultra-sensitive under his touch because of your last orgasm, but he still pushed your limits. His thumbs rolled over your puffy nipples, the addition of his insatiable kisses bringing them to pleasured peaks while you panted sweetly, and soon enough, you were dripping from between your thighs onto the dark fabric of his pants.

"A-ah," You gasped against his neck and bucked your hips against his waist when you felt him drag his middle finger between your folds and circle your clit. He did it again, swiping at your slit and pulling back a few inches to see your pre-cum string along his fingers.

"Look at you falling apart on me. Your body can't get enough, can it?"

"Can't imagine how you feel, Hee," You shot back, even though you were about to lose it, "You must be aching."

"I just might be," Heeseung grunted and lightly squeezed your jaw, “Think you could take it if I stuffed your adorable cheeks with my cock, baby?"

"Yes,” you breathed.

“Good answer.”

With that, you were quickly undoing the closure of Heeseung's pants, wanting to feel the heat of his cock against your pussy and tongue, in whichever order he wanted. He strained under the layers of fabric, but once you tugged his pants and black briefs low enough on his hips, you dipped past his waistband and seized his cock.

You salivated at the gorgeous sight of him; Heeseung's thick girth was incredibly hot to the touch, pulsing against your hand with considerable length. Your finger traced along the ridge of his tip up to his bubbling slit, wanting to taste him.

You slid off his lap to kneel between his spread thighs, and god, did he look gorgeous staring down at you with darkened eyes and a flush across his cheeks. His bare chest rose and fell irregularly, and his muscular thighs on either side of your body flexed under your ministrations.

"Fuck," Heeseung groaned when the first thing you chose to do was to press a kiss to the head of it, wetting your lips with his pre-cum as you locked eyes with him. You gripped him at the base with both hands and coated his cock with more of your saliva, gliding your mouth along the sides of his length and sucking messily at his overflowing tip.

He was so incredibly tasty.

"Sucking my cock perfectly," Heeseung ran his hands through your hair, doing you a favor by holding it back from your face. Grateful, you hollowed your mouth around his cock and sucked continuously, ignoring the ache in your jaw from his size, making sure to adequately accommodate him. His shaft slid against your face when you'd lick along his base and mouth at his balls, smearing saliva and pre-cum across your cheeks.

"Like that, Hee?" You asked around a mouthful of him.

"Ah god— Yes, yes. Wrap your hand beneath my balls and fist my cock with your other hand. Good,” Heeseung reveled at your acquiescence; it showed through his commands and praises, "Suck a little harder; that's it. Show me what you've got, baby."

Heeseung could feel himself grow desperate when you continued to pump his cock with one hand and took his balls captive in your other grip, how you slurped and stretched your lips around them; holding his gaze all the while. Even with absolute self-control, he was slipping under your touch; every graze of your mouth seemed beyond his reality.

Anyone would slip, he reasoned, due to his adoration for you all that you were, from your humanizing faults to the few passions you held dear and everything in between.

But not just anyone could attain your favor as he did– and the darkest part of him wanted to ensure it stayed that way, regardless of who came before him and those who would try to come after.

Pushing the irritating thought to the back of his mind, Heeseung found himself enamored with the view he had of you between his thighs, your eyes glossy with lewd sounds spilling from your throat, pleasuring him with a vigor he knew he didn't deserve. It was officially his second favorite view next to being between your thighs, his face streaked with your cum while you convulsed in ecstasy.

Mine.

Amid Heeseung's length occupying your mouth, he nudged you off his cock and dragged you up into his lap.

"Enough of that," He gripped his flushed cock and swiped the tip of it teasingly along your sopping folds, "You're amazing baby, but I just wanna feel you like this. Wanna see your eyes roll back when you come from humping my cock. How's that sound?"

All you could do was nod eagerly, and make pathetic noises of agreement against his damp neck.

He's just as worked up as I am, but he somehow hides it better than me.

Heeseung let his soaked shaft fall against his abs, and then his hands were kneading into your ass, sliding your lower half against the underside of his hard cock. The head of it rubbed against your clit with each thrust, the knot in your core tightening more and more.

"I want you to look at me when you come, ___."

Your nails dug into his chest, and you shut your eyes tight, feeling dizzier than ever. "No, I can't. That's too much…"

"I wasn't asking," He whispered lowly, nipping at the lobe of your ear.

When you lifted your head to look at him, Heeseung recognized the same helpless expression you wore on the dance floor. It was the one you'd put on during unwanted attention, precisely when overthinking got the best of you.

"___, it's just me," He cradled your face in his hands and comforted you with a soft peck on your lips, ”It’s just you and me. Look...”

Obeying Heeseung, you watched the way you met each other’s hips in tandem, his red cock peeking out from between your folds with each messy thrust, your bouncing tits framing the perfect view of your deprived body.

“You’re so fucking sexy, baby,” Heeseung tipped your chin back up to look at him, “I’m about to come just from how good your pussy feels on top of me. The taste of your sweet cum nearly did me in, but here I am, letting you get off on me again. It’s driving me nuts—“

Heeseung’s brazen confession made you whimper, your muscles tensing up, “— But I think you love grinding on me, like I’m your big, personal teddy bear to get off on in secret. Is that all I am to you, ___?”

“N-no,” You shook your head and weakly denied his words out of shame, even while your thighs burned from rubbing your slit against his cock non-stop.

“No?” Heeseung had the gall to laugh, albeit breathlessly as he caressed your cheeks, “You’re so cute.”

Just as he saw your eyes start to shake and lose focus of him, Heeseung began to grind his hips deeply against yours, drawing out your orgasm with never-ending stimulation to your pulsing clit. The force of his thrusts was jarring but so perfect as you rolled your hips into him, smothering his cock with your pussy while he watched your lovely features contort into an even more euphoric expression.

Heeseung just couldn't get enough of your rapturous moans, proud that they most definitely could be heard through the walls. He felt his impending release near just from you clawing at his sweat-stained skin, chasing his lips of your own accord.

"F-fuck—" You choked out when he continuously lifted and slammed you down against his hips despite you being sensitive, his rough fingers digging into your flesh, "Heeseung!"

In a heartbeat, Heeseung was overwhelmed, pure bliss fiercely invading his senses by force after such well delayed gratification. He hid his face against your shoulder with a tempered growl as hot cum shot against his damp chest and abs.

To your satisfaction, Heeseung's release smeared into your stomach and inner thighs when you rocked into him despite trembling, helping him through his high. With how he held you so tightly against him, you felt like you'd almost burst against his chest, but he loosened his grip on you immediately once he realized his strength in the moment.

"Sorry," He huffed against your lips, "I’m sorry, baby, I thought I was holding back. You just feel so good…"

"It's okay," You swiped his damp hair back from his dazed features, pretty sure that you looked as out of it as he did, "You came a lot…"

With a hoarse laugh, he responded, "Yeah, guess who's fault that is?"

Heeseung's jaw went slack when you dipped your head to run your tongue up his chest to taste his sticky release, and you were immediately taken by his taste. It didn't help that you went so casually about it, swiping remnants of his cum off your lip with your thumb just to suckle it clean.

"... Whatever do you mean? I plead innocence."

God, so help him.

His mind sang three words over and over when his sight focused on your glowing face, but he withheld them, knowing all to well that you weren't ready to hear them.

So instead, he kissed you, for all it was worth, even though he knew it wasn't enough to make up for your past, the old wounds and fresh ones alike.

Still, he had to try.

He had to.

When you both emerged from the lounge and peeked into the main room, it was empty and quiet save for two workers that were on the night shift.

Jake had left, and you were relieved.

Jay was flipping up the stools of the bar so his co-worker could easily mop the floor. At the bar's edge, you spotted Heeseung's coat, your watered-down cocktails, and bags of food that Jay must've thoughtfully bagged for you.

How sweet… and embarrassing!

"Shit. Jay, I really appreciate you packing everything up for us," You slowly approached your belongings, the handsome bartender acknowledging you with a nod, "Um, can we close out with you and finish our drinks?"

"Sure thing, lov–" Jay's eyes darted to Heeseung at your side before he cleared his throat, "Sure thing."

Heeseung slid his card across the marble bar before you could pull out yours, and Jay swiftly took it over to the cash register on the opposite end.

"Hey," you glared up at him, "It was supposed to be my treat. This is what I work hard for."

"Well, the next one's all yours," he said just to quell you.

Heeseung moved his coat off one of the remaining two stools and took his seat facing you. You remained standing at the bar, a little too antsy about being judged by Jay and the employees to take a seat. Afterwards, you did your genuine best to clean the stains out of those luxurious sofas, but god forbid they put two and two together, and you'd never be able to show your face in this establishment again—

"___," Heeseung held his glass towards you, "Cheers."

Looks like you were the only one who was worried.

You forgot that you were starving and even more so after… all that. Drinking on an empty stomach was not the brightest idea, but you didn't want it to go to waste. With caution, you took your glass in hand and clinked it against his, the citrusy peppermint aroma wafting off the light emerald liquid.

You took a sip as Heeseung tried his drink. Minty indeed, but you refused to make the connection with the flavor of toothpaste.

"Verdict?" You asked him.

"It tastes good; sweet although it lost its fizz. I like it," Heeseung eyed the heavy swirl of deep purple beneath the floating opaque cream in his glass, a small grin growing on his face, "Tell me your psychological analysis on how this drink reminds you of me again…"

"Oh, you can forget it," You brushed him off when you knew what he was getting at and instead began to drain your cocktail clean.

"Wait, let me try," He reached out, and you moved to hand him your drink. Instead, he gently took hold of your jaw and swiped his tongue past your lips, making your stomach flip as if the filth that took place in the past few hours didn't just happen.

"Mm–"

Heeseung pulled back ever so slightly, his voice dropping seductively, "I actually kind of like it. Reminds me of those fruity mints you'd feed me to keep me awake during classes."

"I'm sure that doesn't bring back the greatest memories. Still, you remember the little things, don’t you?"

"Can't help it when it comes to you."

Someone cleared their throat and startled you.

"Hey, thanks for coming guys. Have a great night," Jay returned Heeseung's card but also had something to whisper to you, "Jake covered half of the bill."

Your brows rose, "Jake did? You know Jake?"

"Yeah, he's your roommate, isn't he? I sort of just found that out tonight; we're friends. He said it was to pay you back for something he owed you," Jay said simply.

You nodded dumbly.

"By the way, this goes for both of you guys,” Jay addressed Heeseung, “Don't mind that silver-haired guy's shenanigans, it's just our dumbass friend’s way of stirring things up on a night out. I only oblige because I get paid."

So, Jay just expressed he thinks you and Heeseung were more than you initially let on, but Jay still didn’t seem to regard differently than normal… Did that mean Jake kept quiet about you two?

"Oh, no worries…” you unintentionally drew out your words while searching for your thoughts, "Did Jake head home a while ago?"

Jay's eyes shifted to Heeseung momentarily, noticing the man's rather impassive expression, "… Yeah, I think he decided to stay over at Sunghoon's place."

You nodded, "I see. Well, thank you for everything, Jay.”

"Thanks," Heeseung said to Jay, with one hand full of bags and the other slipping into yours.

"… Of course. See you guys around."

This time Heeseung saw you home, the entire way.

You felt the alcohol hit quickly during the Uber ride; usually, it'd take a few drinks, but since you were on an empty stomach, it affected you quite a bit. Besides the tiredness in your muscles a calmness came over you, and you couldn't stop staring at Heeseung along the way.

When Heeseung noticed, he found it amusing but didn't try to start anything with you. He just stared back momentarily and squeezed your knee, leaving his hand there to gently caress your skin.

It was hard to leave him when you found yourself staring at the door to your apartment, keys in hand.

"It's late…" You stated, and Heeseung looked surprised when he saw your sweet eyes inviting him in.

Lord, was he tempted to.

He had inkling that you were more to Jake than he first thought, and there wasn't a single part of him that sat right with it. For tonight, at the very least, he could leave you in peace knowing your likely-to-be drunk roommate wasn't in.

Heeseung decided to be forthright with you, "It is late… but if you invite me in tonight, I can't guarantee what might happen."

Even though his words were promising, he was right to warn you. There was only one thing left to do after messing around with him and this wasn’t about having protection or not… What were you thinking?

Slightly disappointed at yourself, you nodded and slid your hand from his grasp, but he caught it— held it.

"I had an amazing time with you," Heeseung began, "But it almost felt like I didn’t catch up with you enough. You know what I mean?”

Ah, beyond making out, going down on each other and sweet talking… Honestly, with the way things had been going, I’m not really sure if that could’ve been helped.

“I do,” you said.

“Then are you down to do this again, soon?”

“So like, do what exactly?” You giggled and lifted a brow at him, “Catch up more?”

Heeseung smiled at your tipsiness, “Yes, but how about I take you out to an amusement park or something like that and we have a day to ourselves. You down?”

“Hee, I haven’t gone to one in so long! Obviously, I'm down.” You bounced excitedly on your toes.

“Yeah? I’ll ask you again in the morning, alright?”

“Mhmm,” With the alcohol clouding your thoughts, you weren’t sure whether to pull him in for a kiss, a hug or both.

Heeseung being both a tease and gentleman, decided for you and pressed a kiss to your cheek that lingered with heat.

Damn.

Feeling cheated out, you pressed your body flush against his and hung your arms around his neck under the guise of a hug. You sensed Heeseung tense up and heard his sharp inhale, knowing he could feel every soft contour of your body because you could feel his. He embraced you against his chest— tightly— and released you just in time before you lost it.

Heeseung looked down at you; his eyes heavy and dilated, “Good night, ___.”

Oops.

"Night, Heeseung… get home safely."

"Thanks. Don't forget to eat," He said over his shoulder, holding his half of the food in tow.

"Oh, I won't,” you smiled.

Once you slipped into your dark apartment, you set down the bags to lock up with a sigh.

The lock clicked in place, then suddenly, you were being pressed up against the door by a warm, hard body behind you, a whiff of hard liquor hitting you first before the intoxicating scent you knew to be—

"J-Jake?"

His arms squeezed you tightly just beneath your breasts, locking you against him. Jake’s soft breath tickled your neck as he buried his face against your shoulder.

"Missed you, ___."

–

AUTHOR’S NOTE CONT.

Big thanks to those of you who have been waiting for this and spurring me on to get this up through compliments and feedback! To preface this post, I'll be taking a little break from this series to work on some other ideas I've been thinking of, but how fast I get back to writing this depends on what you guys are wanting too. I might do an 800 follower celebration and take requests also, so stay tuned (I'm 6 followers away lol)!

I've always pictured this to be a slow-burn and tagged it as so since part two. Between this chapter and the series finale– Jake has an obstacle course to get through before he can win MC's heart. Let's be honest, the boy needs to suffer a little bit of what he put MC through. Likewise, MC has to sort her shit out.

Also, it turns out a lot of you are Hee biased with Jake as your wrecker based on the survey I put out a while ago (just like me hehe). I wonder if some of you are still team Jake after this chapter or has your allegiance changed in IOU? Or both?

Please let me know if you enjoyed it and want more asap or are more interested in new AU’s. Feedback from you has proven to keep me motivated! 🖤⚰️

— P.

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 8 months

Note

Do you do requests? If not u can ignore this. Do u know how people say that a hero would save the world over u, when a villain would save u? That w Hiccup. Like Hiccup having to choose between saving y/n or others and he doesn’t choose y/n and then believes she’s dead. That would be the final straw for her and she would eventually start a relationship w the dragon hunters.

Can u tell I love angst😭

Castoff

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Villain!Reader

Words: 2328

The gentle brush of fingertips as they slip apart, the pounding of blood as his heart falls out of your grasp. Those are feelings you are familiar with. Your relationship is one made up of meanings searched for where they are not, a deep care uprooted by a raging current and a single, meaningful mistake.

Tags: Angst, fem!reader, heartbreak, villain reader, unresolved insecurity, anger, canon divergent, first part?, suggestive content, RTTE, Httyd 2, 'Always the Angel, Never the God' adjacent

Next>

He knew before she did. You knew just as long as him. It wasn’t the kind of thing you or anyone else talked about, really, not to anyone but your parents and your true meant-to-be. But it was there. And you knew for the longest time that they were meant for eachother.

You didn’t know that it would have ever ended. Yet somehow, supposedly, it did. You still felt like an outlier, though. Your heart was his for so long that to see them together felt like a betrayal, and to be with him now felt like a betrayal of that.

You saw the look in his eyes, you watched them treat each other so familiarly, watched the others close in around them, perhaps looking to share in the joyful atmosphere, knowing that should you step into the light, the moment would be ruined.

You stepped away from the half open door, back into the darkness of the cabin, wondering how they could be so happy together even after the raid, a skirmish so tough and violent with some new dragon hunters from outside the area, unlike any of the ones you’d dealt with before.

There was true love, romantic love and meant-to-be love.

Brown armor, red shirt, green eyes. Hands held gently, preciously out for your own.

For the longest time, you didn’t have a love, true or meant-to-be. Well, you had a love that was certain to be true, but wrong in that it was made for someone who’d already given his heart to another. A heart that he’d, supposedly, taken back.

Now, you wondered what sort of love he held for you.

You made to reach out, but instead you turned away, missing the look of hurt you knew you would be there. You couldn’t, not with any of the others around.

You didn’t miss the hushed conversation, carried on just the same as it was earlier but in lower tones, the small looks shared between them, the unsaid idea that maybe you just weren’t right. That you were a bad pair.

You knew what would greet you if you looked back; the hurt in his eyes, the loose brows, the slight disappointed tilt of his lips.

You furrowed your brows. You let him down again.

But it didn’t feel right, to love and share love, especially with her so closely there. With the ghost of them ever so present. It filled you with shame.

There was no bitterness held, only guilt born from many nights spent awake condemning yourself for your yearning. It was something you’d long since accepted was meant only for the dark of night, when no one else was awake enough to hear your heart flutter.

You still felt as if he was hers, that you were encroaching on something you weren’t supposed to have. It was a messy situation. They ended amicably, you’d been feeling terribly for a long, long time. You wondered if the feeling, the bone-deep hate for yourself, would ever go away, like you’d dreamed.

You had to stop and wonder when Hiccup the Useless became Hiccup and Useless.

You buried your head into your knees, tired of staring out over the windy clifftop. No number of waves or gusts of wind could brush away your troubles.

You didn’t even miss Berk. You didn’t have a reason to go, nor one to stay. Just a floater, tethered only just so by the tattered, frayed strings of your own heart.

He was sitting next to you, a silent question on his lips, left unsaid but just as clearly heard.

You couldn’t forget how lonely you were, then and before, after he left you. A friend, somehow still physically so close and yet so far out of your reach. How quickly you were othered, how quickly you were labeled a pitiful tag-on. No amount of love, hidden nor shared, could ever make up for that.

Something tense was in the air between the two of you. You refused to give it a name, though you knew what it was just as well. It felt like the end. It felt like a new, terrible beginning. It felt like the heaviness in your gut and the slight burning of your eyes caused by the thin spray.

Your touching fingertips became more as you clutched his hand, squeezing it.

You’d always been the confidant. To have the position switched was odd, unfamiliar. Hiccup was gawky and unsure in your boots. To have your troubles laid out between the two of you, of which there were many, disturbed you. The idea felt like a violation.

So, without the words to speak them, you worked around. You found words you could speak, parts of some that were difficult and some that weren’t and strung them together like the split stems of flowers into a very nearly presentable crown.

You turned to your right, looked at him pleadingly, though you weren’t sure what you were pleading for. Nothing, everything at once, not to leave you behind, not to make you stay.

“Hiccup,” You stared hoarsely, hesitantly. It was silly, it was stupid saying it aloud. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. He never would.

Truly, you had only one question.

“Do you love me?” You asked. He looked confused, startled.

You leaned closer. You couldn’t tell which way he moved, if he moved at all. You imagined he moved away. He waited.

He looked at you expectantly. Unsurely. Why weren’t you moving closer?

You’d never loved or been loved in any sort of way which mattered. The fact that you hadn’t felt like a burden, somehow just another reason as to why you weren’t deserving. An onerous boon that you just wanted to be rid of.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know if you could.

He knew what was supposed to happen next. He’d experienced it; done it and had it done many times over. You hadn’t.

You two hadn’t been that close yet, not at all, not physically. This was not a boundary the two of you had yet crossed. You shared nothing more than a few mumbled words into the neck, a few shared words in your nook, a tight embrace and hands held loosely in the quiet darkness of the night. Promises, dedications. No actions.

The others knew about it, though. They heard the declaration, quiet and uttered as if it was just a casual thing. For him it was. You said nothing.

How could you?

You hesitated, waiting for an answer. Your lips twitched. Your eyes burned, stronger then. You shook your head and dropped his hand, which he let fall to the wayside. Using your hands and the floor, you pushed away.

As always, you couldn’t bear it. He waited for you, just as you didn’t want to be someone to wait for. You wanted to already have it. You wanted back the years you spent wasting away, coveted back the years you spent watching him give what you desperately needed so casually to another.

You stood, then.

It was a surprise when the two of you came together. No one had expected it. It seemed off, out of place. You weren’t sure Hiccup himself had, drifting in the spaces left between after he and her had split paths.

You turned. You held your elbows and hunched your shoulders, turning your back to him and pushing against the wind, which though was light, felt all of the sudden as if it was way too much.

You weren’t sure he meant it. Whether or not this was real or something he’d just fallen into as per convenience.

You did. You meant it. He was your true, he was your romantic.

What kind of love do you hold for me?

You knew the answer, plain and simple.

None. None at all.

You stood in the darkness of your cabin. Your windows were blocked, though you didn’t need the light. You’d been in for a while, you were used to it.

You’d exhausted your usual time-taking avenues, left with nothing but maintenance; folding, organizing, sorting.

It was awkward. Since the clifftop, the two of you were distant. You didn’t avoid each other, but you also didn’t speak. It was a miracle that nothing had happened yet to force the two of you together.

You were beginning to believe that was the end of your relationship. You were having a hard time accepting it, though the feeling was creeping into your heart slowly and you were beginning to feel empty.

You didn’t flinch as the door to your cabin opened, creaking, though you winced as you turned back towards the light, started as he came up, pressing you against the wall.

Your lips met.

It was not rough, more just so. It unbalanced you all the same.

He was unsure, nervous. Clumsy. But it was strong. But it was meaningful. But you could tell he meant it.

You molded into his shape just as he molded into yours. Hesitantly, unsurely, you responded. He was gentle enough to guide you.

Once again, you asked, though not so much in words as actions; Do you love me?

And this time, he responded. Your heart bloomed. Not violently, not roughly, just so, enough for a shining pink petal to crest the green sepal.

Yes. Yes, I do love you.

You were light, you were fervent, you were free. You believed him.

The same hunters from before. The lot of you had gotten captured. You were too distressed to remember if it had been your fault. There were rocks sharpened to a point below you, gray skies and windy, stormy seas rushing tumultuously below.

You were far from the Edge. In unfamiliar territory. Any allies unaware and absent. The dragons, trapped in cages long behind you.

Hunters were sailing away behind you. It was a victory, however it was also one that came with a terrible price. Something had been set off, violently at that, throwing you off the edge of the cliff face, destabilizing the cage held by a chain pinned to the rock above by a thin steel nail.

“Hiccup,” You pleaded, breathlessly as your body struggled to keep up with your weight, with the rope and chains tied around your ankle, “H-elp.”

I need you.

“Just- hold on, the others-” He crouched, glancing frantically between you and the others handing caged off the side. Their chains were thin, yours were thicker though both were just as equally dangerous.

Please, I need you now.

You jerked back as another rope snapped. Unheard by his ears, drowned out by the raucous waves below and by the rattling of empty cages, pushed around in the air. Unseen as his eyes trained on the others.

Hiccup didn’t see, eyes trained elsewhere. There was no time to waste. After all, if he helped you up, in the time that took, they might fall. They would fall.

“Hiccup!” Astrid shouted. Snotlout shouted. You remembered how they looked before you’re been knocked off. Fishlegs panicking, mumbling to himself zealously, distress projected clearly for all to see. Ruffnut and Tuffnut yelled mindlessly into the air, a waning battlecry as the island deteriorated around you

Somehow, in between terror, in between the pain of your ankle as it threatened to snap and the taut muscle of your arms, a grim doom began to worm and thrash and coil in your gut.

“I’m not- I’m not going to make it,” You said desperately, voice crackling, face crunching as tears began to spill over the edge, shoulders straining, holding on just barely.

“Please, there’s-Just, cut me loose-” You prayed, to whichever god was out there, he still had his knife. That he had something sharp. You were going to die.

You could tell he was stressed, overwhelmed, just as panicked. He shifted restlessly, stiffly, perhaps a million times in the last minute. Noise built up in his throat as he spoke but you were unable to hear clearly as your ears filled with buzzing. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t hear your own voice, too breathless and strained to make a sound.

You watched his eyes flicker, you saw the soot on his face and each strand of his hair as it waved in great detail, your world slowing down to a halt.

He stopped. You caught his eyes briefly, you saw as an idea formed, as his resolve hardened, and as he made his choice. You knew it would not be one he made for you.

“Hold on!” Hiccup shouted, as the other’s cries grew more intense, ears deaf to your pleas. He pushed away towards the other side of the cliff, running towards the others as their cage dipped once again.

There was a sharp pain in your chest, as if the nails you dug in with so despairingly were instead gripping your lungs, sharp and unforgiving.

Do you love me?

You were going to die.

You blinked away tears and snot and all the little, tiny shards of your heart that had gotten stuck in your eyes on their way out.

You just had to hold on. You just had to hold on until Hiccup got back.

You shouted something wild, something animal as your fingers gave, numb with cold and sliding loose even as you commanded them to grip tight. You had no way to fight, no thing in which to fight with as your hold weakened on the slippery rock.

Your nails hurt as they worked against rock and loose dirt, fragile roots and falling stones. Your fingers pained as they worked furiously against themselves.

Hiccup left you. He wasn’t going to come back. You were going to die before he came back.

It was like a stake had been shoved into your gut.

Hiccup left you.

You were going to die.

Your vision whited out.

You were going to die.

You couldn't hold on any longer.

You fell.

#bam pow i do do requests #winner prompt #angst central #angst #how to train your dragon #httyd #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #httyd imagine #fem reader #female reader #angst with unhappy ending

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thelampisaflashlight · 1 year

Text

Blue

[Dew deals with a wave of unwelcome emotions, but takes comfort in the company of a friend. Discusses grief and the death of a parent/parents with hints at past neglect/emotional abuse. It’s a rough one, but with a fairly positive/lighthearted ending. AKA, I hurt Dew, but I also give him some comfort.]

Dew hates the word “grief”, the rough sound of it, the way it seems keen on rhyming with something it’s not and never will be.

Brief.

Over the years, Dew has learned that grieving is not a linear process, it does not start and stop at a set time.

Nor does it, necessarily, fade.

Sometimes it’s lighter, easier to bear, pushed aside or drowned out by life.

And other times...

Dew can go a couple days without thinking of them.

Of his parents, of Mist.

But they’re always somewhere in the back of his mind.

The father who never loved him, who might still be alive but wouldn’t know his son from anyone else.

The mother who wanted him to be anyone but himself, who screamed and cried and blamed and hurt-

And Mist.

Mist hadn’t been gentle or sweet, but she had been honest, and she had been accepting in ways others had not.

His feelings towards her had always been... complicated.

Somewhere between admiration and adoration.

He yearned for her almost as much as he yearned to be her at times.

But it’s not her he’s mourning today.

It’s his mom.

And he hates it.

He hates that he has this tug in his heart, this want to be able to pick up a phone and just call her.

But he can’t.

And more than that, he hates the reason why he wants to talk to her.

It’s so stupid, so fucking mundane and small.

He doesn’t...

He doesn’t know what her favorite color is.

Was.

Whatever.

It shouldn’t be a big deal, it should just be another thing on the long ass fucking list of shit he doesn’t NEED to know or care about, because fuck that woman and everything she ever cared about...

...But it hurts.

It hurts, because he’ll never have the answer.

He’ll never have a solid resolution, and it’s just another reminder of just how much unresolved bullshit that bitch left behind when she-

His face feels hot, and he has to pinch his eyes shut as tears start to leak from them uncomfortably.

It pisses him off.

He’s so mad he wants to scream, but instead of a powerful, rage filled yell, the sound that comes out is more...

Pained.

Vulnerable.

Weirdly human.

And that only makes him feel worse.

So he curls into himself just a bit.

Enough so that his face is hidden between his knees and he’s certain nobody passing by can see him crying.

And that’s exactly the position Aether finds him in not long after.

Eyes still stinging.

Frustrated.

Angry.

And still so fucking-

Sad.

Aether doesn’t call out to him at first, doesn’t ask if he’s okay, because he knows by now that’s not what Dew wants or needs to hear when he’s like this.

Instead, Aether sits down beside him, slides his leg over to meet the side of Dew’s.

No hands keeping him there.

Minimal contact.

But a constant, steady warmth to let him know he’s not alone without making him feel trapped.

And they stay like that.

For half an hour, maybe a bit more.

Until Dew painfully unfolds himself, just enough to shove his face against Aether’s shoulder, still too uneasy to be held, but present enough to rub the crust from his nose onto the other’s shirt.

“Gross.” Aether hums, no heat or annoyance to his voice.

Dew presses his face in harder and rubs again.

“You wanna stop using me like a tissue and talk about it yet?” he asks, almost laughing when Dew pauses his aggressive wiping to think.

“...It’s kind of stupid.” Dew says, eyes beginning to water anew, voice breaking slightly, sitting his chin on the larger ghoul’s shoulder.

Aether tilts his head to meet the top of Dew’s.

“Stupid like Swiss trying to put out his burning toast in the toaster using water, or stupid like... complicated?”

Dew lifts his hands and then lowers them, sighing.

“...Stupid like... I miss somebody I hate for a stupid reason.”

Aether nuzzles his cheek against Dew’s hair.

“I wasn’t... I was just thinking about random shit, and I thought about... that I don’t...” he breathes softly, “...I got worked up because I don’t know what my mother’s favorite color was, and it pisses me off that I won’t ever get to know, even though I hate her.”

“I hate her so much, and the only fucking thing I can think of right now is that I don’t even know her favorite color...”

“Well... I like green.” Aether offers, carefully bringing a hand up to rub Dew’s back soothingly, “And Rain likes orange... Copia likes red, which feels a little obvious, but yeah...”

Dew blinks, “What?”

“You said you couldn’t think of anything else, so... we’re gonna make a list of things you do know, yeah?”

“...Yeah. Yeah, okay, let’s... let’s do that.” Dew furrows his brow, “Sunshine likes pink...”

Aether nods, “And yellow.”

“Strawberry lemonade colors...” Dew snorts.

“...Which also happens to be who’s favorite drink?”

“Swiss.” Dew mumbles, “He pretends like he doesn’t like it because it’s sweet, but he always pours two more sugar packets into his glass when nobody’s looking-”

#Lamp writes #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band fanfic

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forlix · 6 months

Note

talking ab fallen star cos that fic consumed me when i first read it and consumed me again when i reread it earlier 🤚

firstly the way he kept his promise to bring mc to the airport it really broke me. it's so melancholic like there have been broken promises before but hyunjin wouldn't dare end their relationship on another one? you can still feel the love he has for t hemin the way he tiredly made his way to drive to their house and to the airport after he came back from his own long flight it honestly makes me insane.

i love how in the car there's this like faint and twisted idea of hope lingering between them. some part of them still longs for the other and it's right there they could just grab the very thing they yearn for but it's incomplete. it's not the same. honestly when mc mutters "idiot" it really made me think like are they calling hyunjin an idiot? or themselves an idiot? and ac i feel like they meant both of them are idiots for allowing themselves to end up in this awkward but necessary situation.

there are some unresolved feelings and unanswered questions while they sit in silence on the way to the airport, but the airport scene™️ gives them both the closure they need. they're not getting back together, no matter how much one might like, but the tension in the car shows a sliver of hope that they would and i feel like it really emanates in your writing and makes me as a reader reader hope for a happier ending as well. also the shaky "fuck" describes my feelings as i read this as well thanks btw 🥲

and this is all from my own mind but i imagine reader saw a photo or maybe got an invitation to hyun's wedding and they realize he's okay and it makes them reflect on themselves and with a heavy heart they realize theyre okay too. the worst part is there's no definitive point where they felt or "became" okay, because like you said, time is the best medicine and gradually mc just healed. but knowing that hyun is okay and has moved on kind of popped a bubble of reserved feelings and its not necessarily sad its just kind of disheartening or numbing?

idk how i started yapping sm lol i read wayyyy into this HAHAHA. i chose to analyze this instead of study for my finals ☝️🤓 but in conclusion, xian i love falling star and its yet another product of ur mindblowing sexy brain i love you so much bby and i js wanna say im so proud of you <3

when i tell u i saw this while studying (also for my finals) and it had my jaw on the floor my head in the clouds i couldn't focus for the LIFE of me afterwards. WDYM YOU WROTE ME AN ESSAY OF UR THOUGHTS ON MY WRITING? IS IT MY BIRTHDAY?? i love you so fucking much omg. thank u for sending this in my lovely star :') putting my VERY ramble-y response under the cut

"there have been broken promises before but hyunjin wouldn't dare end their relationship on another one" is soooo poignantly put and so so so correct. honestly him remembering the day and time of the flight was supposed to be a show of pettiness at first, like "you called me unreliable so here i am bitch" lmfaooo but let's be real you're right on the money with his real intentions. he was literally counting down the days until he had an excuse to see mc again.. he was also worried about the flight being so early and wanted to ensure their safety... AGGHHH not me hurting myself thinking ab this couple 😭

"when mc mutters "idiot" it really made me think like are they calling hyunjin an idiot? or themselves an idiot?" I LOVEEEE LOVE LOVE THIS? god u are a genius i adore you. i totally see this being the case. if i may add, maybe mc thinks they're an idiot because they reciprocate hyunjin's yearning even after everything that's transpired. like inward frustration that there are still feelings there? yeah. ur a genius.

about the slivers of hope after the car scene, i apologize for the lack of a happy ending love </3 the fic was definitely challenging (and saddening) but also refreshing to write. i really wanted to explore a couple that is well and truly doomed bc some of the relationships in our lives are doomed, yaknow? and you can recognize that and still have a lot of love for the person at the same time bc human beings are fucking complicated like that. but please consider this my official justification for posting something so depressing

"and this is all from my own mind but i imagine reader saw a photo or maybe got an invitation to hyun's wedding and they realize he's okay and it makes them reflect on themselves and with a heavy heart they realize theyre okay too." FUCKKKK NOT THE WEDDING PICTURE. this just made me frown irl. if i may add.....again..... what if they physically run into each other and that's how mc knows? at the start of the convo mc kinda feels the familiar stirrings again but it's more out of habit than anything. they talk for a bit and it's really pleasant and mc notices he has a ring on his finger and they realize they feel ✨ nothing ✨ about it anymore. but there's just an inkling of remorse remaining about the whole situation. like a passing thought of "maybe in a different universe we would've made things work"....haha.....fuck. BUT mc is happy hyunjin's happy, and mc is happy to have recovered, and life goes on

as for ur entire last paragraph i might actually cry, i'm so glad you love the fic and i truly do appreciate u taking the time to look into my fic this closely so so so much :'( you keep me going, I MEAN IT

#smothers u with kisses this made my whole life ily #*inbox

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kewltie · 2 years

Text

katsuki is hit w a proximation quirk where he has to be close to another person or suffers pain and that person is somehow is izuku who is ALL THE WAY IN THE USA rn. also they're exes and katsuki is the one who DUMPED him so like this make it 1000% more complicated than it should be. izuku being izuku of fucking course immediately flies back to japan for him even though there's a lot of unresolved issues and b/t. katsuki keep insisting he doesn't need izuku but every breath he takes feel like stab in his lung and izuku is the drug that keeps him alive and whole. the thing is they were madly in love or at least izuku thought they were but katsuki broke up him abruptly one day w no reason at all and izuku was so hurt and confused that he ran overseas just to not fall apart and forget about him but NOW KATSUKI is the one who needs him!!!!

katsuki is a stubborn shithead because he keeps trying to push izuku away even though he's in pain from not being near izuku. he wasnt even going to tell izuku to come back because of the quirk incidence; his parents were the one who did it because they're not going to watch their son suffer. katsuki's entire body feels like an exposed nerve, everything IS PAINFUL. breathing, moving, and talking take so much effort but he never complain that you dont even know he's hurting SO SO FUCKING MUCH but the moment izuku touches him; he MELTS COMPLETELY. the quirk isn't just a simple proximation quirk but it attaches you to the person you most wanted the most and make you NEED THEM so while katsuki never needed izuku to survive but he wanted izuku so much that quirk made it izuku A REQUIRE EXISTENCE for him!!!

izuku, who honestly didn't have to do this because they're not together anymore, and katsuki isn't his responsibility, but even when he's mad at katsuki and still nursing that hurt from their break up he couldn't stand to see katsuki hurt in anyway, not when he could help him!!

it's dumb, he thinks, to yearn for someone he'd already spurn him and WHO even know in endless amount of pain couldn't bare to touch IZUKU, who would rather suffer that excruciating pain than be near izuku,,,, but izuku can't stay away. he's even dumber to chose to stay. the quirk is supposed to be temporary but it's an ENTIRE MONTH and they don't know the exact *requirement* to actually canceling it because it changes from person to person and UGH either katsuki going to endure this pain for a month or find HOW TO GET REMOVE SO HE CAN BE RID OF IZUKU.

the thing is the more he tries to push izuku away the more he craves izuku. it's like all the longing and fucked up feelings he shoved into a locked chest is quickly unraveling one chain at a time until he's has to touch izuku OR HE CAN'T BREATHE; this raw desperation kills him. they dont *always* have to be touching for katsuki to function; just need to be close like at least withi six feet for katsuki's brain to think YEA HESHEREHESHERESOBREATHE so that mean they have to be in super close proximity (heh) to each other for katsuki to not HURT at all. that means izuku has to stay w in katsuki's apartment and start going on patrol w him during this ENTIRE MONTH, they can't be apart AT ALL because katsuki is super dependent on izuku esp the closer to the 1month limit, the more the pain heightens till it's absolutely crippling.

it's,,, funny and ironic that katsuki is the one who drove izuku away first but now he's the one who needs izuku so, so badly it hurts to not even be in the same space as him and now they're practically living in each other pocket even more than when they were dating but IT'S NOT like it's any easier for izuku because he has to stay w the man who had hurt him deeply and still does whenever he pushes izuku away EVEN AS HE'S CLUTCHING HIS CHEST like someone is squeezing his heart and izuku wishes he knows how to fix this, FIX KATSUKI, FIX THEM.

it's all v v confusing esp when KATSUKI REFUSES TO COMMUNICATE!! this always been the main issue w their relationship because no matter how much they deeply love each other katsuki is too reticent and withdrawn when he's feeling trap and defensive and izuku just pushes and pushes MORE. it's how they broke up, even though technically katsuki broke up with him, but he wouldn't say WHY and izuku is so TERRIBLY CONFUSED and that confusion followed him even to the USA. he just wishes katsuki open up more because all he ever wanted was for katsuki to let him in but katsuki is SO SO STUBBORN AND PRIDEFUL that even when he's under this dumb proximation quirk and in so much pain, he won't speak up, won't tell izuku anything that izuku has to be the one to reach out first, reach out and hears that sigh of relief from kasuki's lips.

it's honestly unfair to izuku who has to bears this burden at all, that he has to keep trying and trying for katsuki's sake because he loves this frustrating man and makes all the effort while katsuki gets to have izuku without compromising with issues he has in his head. in his darkest days, he thinks he's the only one who makes any effort at all in their relationship, WHO CARES SO DEEPLY THAT the day katsuki had broken up him with there's a giant hole left in his chest and everyday it crumbles and crumbles and get a little bigger without katsuki.

so here's the thing, they fell deeply in love young because they're bkdk and they never do anything by just 100% let alone halves. its' intense and scary and there's an entire world ahead of them; katsuki has never been scare of anything but izuku has always been source of his triggers. izuku is wrong to think it's all onesided on is part because it is katsuki who fears THAT HE LOVES TO DEEPLY. he heard how izuku got offer to go overseas but rejected and chose to stay with katsuki and how katsuki REVELS IN IT, want to lock izuku up, throw away the key, and hide him.

katsuki has always pursue everything he'd ever wanted with pure gutso and blind determination. it has always been all or nothing for him. love is the same way. izuku is it for him the moment he could give a name to this feeling burning inside of him; he wanted izuku, WANTS IZUKU. that has never change, that will never change but the fire within him doesn't quench even after he has izuku; it only continues to burn and burn until it feel like it will consume katsuki completely. he doesn't want it like this. doesn't want to be so dependent on another person.

he saw the way izuku started to use katsuki to reject better offer overseas or move into district close by to katsuki so they're not that far away; he saw in all the way izuku has to compromise himself then he looked at himself and realized how he never raise a word against it... at that point he made a decision; they must be apart so they can grow individual before they can learn to be together again. they love each other but it was hindering who they are and their career paths and katsuki wants THEM TO BE THE BEST *TOGETHER* but not like this.

so yea they were being codependents WAAAAAY before the quirk incidence. now that 4yrs have passed b/t them and they're brought back together by a quirk THAT PRETTY MUCH MAKE THEM CODEPENDENT AGAIN is AGGRAVATING TO KATSUKI because it's reason he chased izuku away in the first place. but,,, this time it's different. they're older now and had exp quite a lot for the passed 4yrs. they had time to grow as bakugou and midoriya on separate continent. even though katsuki still has his pride and uncommunicative and izuku always feel the need to give so much for others.

it wasn't easy the first week because it feels like they had fallen back into their old routine, like nothing had changed at all and yet at the same time it's like they were strangers having to relearn each other like they're an old map with all the labels already faded with time. katsuki is resistance to izuku's help at first but if there's anyone who can outstubborn katsuki is it IZUKU. in the past izuku always worry if it's too clingy, too much that katsuki would turn away from him that he's afraid to put his foot on the ground but now it's different.

he loves katsuki v v v v much but doesn't feel like those feelings are gonna drown him anymore. those years apart made him realize he's fine without katsuki and that even tho it hurts, it doesn't mean his world also stop just because katsuki isn't there w him. he's stronger now. for katsuki he has always find it hard to translate this awful knot of feelings into words that he can communicate to others and that been a detriment to their relationship because if he doesn't talk about it, then how would izuku know? he cant expect izuku to ALWAYS mind read him.

so when they were apart, katsuki went into therapy and had help from his friends to learn how use words in a way that unraveled the tightness in his chest and stop ya know internalizing his FEELINGS until it suffocated him completely!!!! so he's better now. not perfect but better. but the moment they seen each other it's like everything revert back to how it used to be because they had grown up and apart but still THOSE DUMB BOYS and honestly feelings are hard no matter how old you are. so they were uneven footing the first week they were forced together.

katsuki had tried to push izuku away, insisting he was fine without izuku and doesn't need him and izuku feeling stripped raw under katsuki's glare become flustered and tries not to be TOO pushy and annoying lest he upset katsuki but then katsuki refuse to share a bed for REASONS. he didn't sleep a WINK at all under that pain when he' far apart from izuku and it fucks him up until he collapsed a few days later and izuku realizes at that point yea,,, he's not going through that shit again. SO he pushed his way into katsuki's bed and HELD HIM.

katsuki put up a fight but izuku has his quirk and well,,, katsuki would fight even more because he's BAKUGOU KATSUKI AND HE ISN'T THAT PATHETIC AND NEEDY if the fact that izuku is finally touching make his heart roar and his skin tingles and he wants, oh, how he wants. so yea, in the darkness of his bedroom w izuku around him, he finds his words at last: "thanks." it's just a word but it rings in izuku's ears and that's how they start to relearn each other, and uncovers this new side of the other. it's slow and through a lot of trails and errors.

bkdk learning to live in the same space again and though they're force to do it, they almost forget that everytime they hold hand it's not because they have to do it to calm katsuki's pain but it's because they want to. like the quirk FORCES THEM but now they chose to do it. katsuki slowly start to open up and talk about about his fear and worries that made him drove izuku away at first and izuku ofc is rightfully furious but he sort of understands where katsuki is coming from because he doesnt know if he can be this person he is now if he'd stay w Katsuki.

so once that one month period ends and the quirk FINALLY, FINALLY died off their life returned to normal and as though nothing is diff but EVERYTHING IS because they dont have to be touching or near each other but now they have a *choice* to do it and choice is such a powerful thing. they're codependent on each other had nearly ended them before, so they were separated, and then FORCED back together again but this time they had managed it better NOW and realized they're OK being apart, doesn't make them any lesser if they're alone but the thing is just because bkdk are fine with being alone doesn't mean they have to settle just for that because they have entire lifetime ahead of them. this time they chose to walk together even though they know it's okay to let go of each other hand anytime and they still be ok.

thematically, i love the idea of bkdk being fucked up about each other so they had to separate and learned how to be apart before they could be w one another and even then when they realized they're ok without the other, they still chose each other because it's better when they're together

#bakudeku #not!fic

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juletheghoul · 2 years

Text

Let Me Follow (Part 4)

A/n: Been feeling emotional about our boy Joel, cannot wait for the show to come out. We get into the ✨angst✨ in this chapter, as well as some boundaries because even in an apocalypse - we know our worth. Hope you enjoy 💗

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) angst, language, age-gap (about 10-11 years, legal, reader is of age), Yearning, post-apocalyptic world, piv sex (wrap it up!), slight dirty talk, pussy eating-feral Joely, one stolen kiss

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist Series Masterlist Next Chapter

Ellie was funny, when she felt comfortable enough to be and as your time together grew so did your rapport.

He was a different story. He was changeable, his moods came on like sudden squalls and for the most part you ignored it, chalked it up to his survival instincts and the general state of the world.

It was mostly the two of you chatting idly amongst each other - experiences from when you were younger.

“Can I ask you something?” Her tone shifted then, the two of you a little ahead of the confused cloud that was Joel, and you knew it would be something uncomfortable.

“Shoot.” No use in holding anything in.

“What happened to your brother?” She was walking on a fallen log, doing her best to keep her balance while you made your way through the woods.

“There’s not much to tell.” You sighed. “He went out to scavenge, and never came back.” You kicked at rocks while you followed her. “Pretty anticlimactic, happens I guess.” You knew Joel could hear you, but he made no comment.

“I’m sorry.” She said it with a sad smile, it was endearing and you smiled back at her, once again compartmentalizing the unresolved feelings about the disappearance of Johnny. She quickly changed the subject - launching into an excited conversation about space travel. It touched your heart that she wanted to take your mind off of it and you matched her energy as best you could.

“Keep your voices down, there could be clickers nearby.” His voice cut through your bonding, eliciting a groan from Ellie.

“Yeah yeah, I hear you.” She rolled her eyes.

“We haven’t seen one in a while, hopefully these woods are fine.” You said it with a smile, trying to get him to relax but he only scowled, doubling down.

“Just means we have to be extra careful.” He was scanning as he spoke, his brow furrowed.

Ellie ignored him, and continued chatting to you about her imagined mission to a far off solar system.

One minute you were laughing, the next you were on your back with an angry, rabid shadow of a person snarling in your face. It was so quick you almost didn’t have time to react. You vaguely heard Ellie yell before what was once a man - was ripped off of you by Joel. Ellie was helping you up, asking you questions you couldn’t really hear over your heartbeat pounding in your ears. How he had managed to tear the thing off of you and all but rip its head off so fast, you’d never know.

You thought he’d been angry before, you thought you’d seen how cold he could be but it was nothing.

“Did you get bit?” He was staring at the dead thing on the ground when he spoke - the words falling out of his mouth like icicles.

“No, I’m ok.” Your voice was shaky, normally you were careful. You knew how to take care of yourself - if not you wouldn't have survived this long

“I told you to pay attention.” He was staring daggers at you.

“It’s my fault Joel, I kept-” Ellie came to your defense but he quickly barrelled over her.

“Quiet. Both of you. I told you to pay attention for a reason, this reason.” He pointed at the dead thing you were both actively ignoring. “I need you both to take this more seriously because I won’t always be there to save your asses. I won’t tell you again, stop fucking around and watch out. Am I understood?” He wasn’t yelling, but his tone stung - your safety, everyone's safety was important to you,

You nodded, unable to respond over the hurt and frustration rolling in your stomach. He didn’t like what he saw from either of you.

“Don’t give me that look, you have to toughen up. I’m not going to hold your fucking hand - now move.” With that, he turned and walked ahead of you. You felt Ellie grab onto your hand and squeeze before following after him.

–

You’re such an asshole.

He berated himself for hours - unable to shake off the shame at how he’d spoken to her; to both of them. It had been years since he’d been that scared.

For that brief moment he’d thought that he’d lost her and it had hit him like a gunshot, his body moving of its own volition to destroy the clicker that had surprised all of them. He knew she wasn’t irresponsible with her safety. He knew that she’d been through a plethora of things that she’d survived just like he had, yet still.

She’d been quiet for the rest of the day, retreating inward at his cruel words and he couldn’t blame her. He’d wanted nothing more than to join her - to laugh and share in the conversation they’d been having. In his heart of hearts, he knew there was something here. The potential for something that could truly work. Something that could open up that little part of him he’d hidden away; the part of him that had always been rejected.

What if she doesn’t want me? What if I fucked it up? I can’t even kiss her for fuck sake.

“I’m tired.” Ellie was angry, and he couldn’t fault her for the alliance. “We should move into the city and look for a place to stay.” He nodded, and the three of them moved silently in search of shelter.

They came upon an abandoned motel, in surprisingly good condition. The doors had been chained and after a quick assessment, they climbed in through a broken window. They were pleasantly surprised to find a few habitable rooms, a bit dusty - but as good as they were likely to find.

They ate a quiet dinner of some of the dry goods brought from the trailer as well as the last can of peaches from the apartment. Ellie retreated before they’d all finished, leaving without so much as a goodnight, to him at least.

Sunny - as he’d taken to calling her in his mind - stayed and finished her food silently. He didn’t know what to say so he also kept quiet, relishing the small smile she gave him when he gave her the last peach half. Too soon though, she was leaving - retreating into a room by herself.

He followed her faster than he’d ever care to admit.

The sound of the door opening startled you.

I thought I’d locked that - or I meant to anyway.

His entrance had been confident, but now that he stood in the doorway staring at you - he seemed a bit unsure.

“Did I forget something?” You prompted him while checking the long unused bed. Comforter was a no-go, but the sheets underneath were clean enough, a little musty but that was to be expected.

“No.” He frowned, and you knew what he wanted - seems he expected you to initiate though, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, so you stayed quiet, letting him find the words. “I - are you okay?” His hands dug into his pockets.

“Yes. I’m fine.” You watched him with a frown of your own, slightly annoyed at how handsome he was in the soft light of the moon coming in from the window.

“I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. To either of you.” His hands came up to rest on his hips, this was uncomfortable for him - that much was clear. “I know you can take care of yourself, and it’s good that Ellie and you get along - that clicker just came out of nowhere and you’re not immune as far as we know.” He sighed big, approaching you slowly, his eyes fixed on the floor until he was right in front of you. “I’m trying to say sorry.”

“Scared you.” It wasn’t a question, you knew it in the way the colour drained from his face at the time of the incident. “Thought that I’d gotten hurt?” You tried not to hope, tried for all the world to not read into his rage as an indication that he might have feelings for you.

Just say it. Say you care.

“I was scared that either of you would have gotten hurt.” Your heart pounded, your stomach roiling at his refusal to admit to - something, anything. “Ellie is important - I need to get her where she needs to go.” His voice was soft and you knew he could see your face fall. “Forgive me?” His hand tugged at the zipper on your jacket, keeping it where it was until you nodded. You didn’t trust your voice.

He unzipped it, taking it off you wordlessly and although you knew what he wanted - what you both wanted - you didn’t try to kiss him this time. The rejection would have broken you.

His eyes scanned every inch of exposed skin, his callused hands felt almost silky and although this wasn’t your first time with him - his gaze made you feel self-conscious. His eyes were intense in the moonlight, you could feel him drinking you in. It was both lovely, and aggravating.

“I wasn’t bitten.” Your words pulled his focus up from his scan of your chest.

“I know.” He continued stripping you, pulling everything off until you were as naked as the day you were born. He pushed you onto the bed, taking his shirt off before following you. Silvery scars drew your eyes until you realized his path - your stomach fluttered as the breadth of his shoulders opened up your legs.

“Joely-” His mouth descended, plush soft lips pressed against the trembling skin of your belly, the softness of it stole the words out of your mouth.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.” He moved down, pressing more kisses to your inner thigh, drawing out both a sigh and your aching arousal. “Been wanting to take my time, taste you.” He dipped into your wet heat, the strong muscle of his tongue circling the rim of your opening - drawing out your slick with a rumbling groan.

Your mouth fell open, the scene before you making it impossible to speak. His frown was almost pained, delicious swirls against your swollen clit with each pass left you breathless. You watched as your hand came up on its own, your fingers threading through the fine salt and pepper strands of his hair - half expecting him to pull away.

He placed an open-mouthed kiss to your soaked folds, seemingly spurred on by your touch.

He pushed himself closer, his nose pressed against your mound in his need to consume you, his lips suctioned around your clit tight in his quest to pull you apart.

Your touch turned from a soft caress, to a tight grip. He sensed that you were close, felt your thighs tensing about his ears. His hands slid up your thighs, up past your belly to hold onto your breasts. Pinching and plucking at your nipples while keeping up that dizzying suck that finally snapped the coil he wound in your belly, your hips came up off the bed with the force of your climax.

Your grip loosened as you came back to your body and you could feel the tickle of his scruff against the soft skin of your thighs with each kiss he pressed there. He was generous with them, here at least. The thought of his stubble leaving a burn there thrilled you more than you cared to admit.

I wish you would kiss my mouth like this.

The thought broke through the ecstasy of the moment to take up space in the orgasmic mush that was your brain. You bat it away.

Your heart raced, booming loudly in your ears when he wiped his palm across your mess on his face - skipping a beat when he chased it with his tongue before finally stripping himself of everything.

There was a beautiful flush crawling up his chest, blooming in his cheeks - taking a firm root in his dick. There was a little smile on his face, and you could only imagine what you looked like from his point of view. Naked, legs spread, cunt glossy with slick and spit with a dopey blissed out look on your face.

“I like you like this.” He said it playfully, his drawl coming through and it pulled a laugh out of you.

“I bet you do.” You kicked at him playfully as he stood over you - biting your lip in anticipation for what he would do next. “I like you like this too.”

“Hard and dying to fuck you?” He had your foot in his hand - bringing it up to his shoulder to place a painfully tender kiss to your calf. You genuinely tried not to read into this sudden burst of good spirit, but you failed.

Dying? Don’t play with me Joel.

“Yes, with your cock hard and dying to fuck me.” You propped yourself up on your elbows, drinking in his smile while he let you. “How do you want me?” You spread your legs wider for him, relishing the way he stared at the place you wanted him the most.

“I want you-” His hand moved up your calf, his fingers curling soft around your knee. “I want you on your knees.” He let you get into the position he wanted, you were only too happy to oblige. His legs were a solid press against the backs of yours, the weeping head of his cock smearing pearly drops against the curve of your ass.

Your cunt wept for him, despite him pulling an orgasm out of you already. A heavy palm landed on the meat of your ass, desperation for him clawing inside. You wiggled against him - coaxing a rare laugh and it made you giddy with excitement.

“This is even better, eager little thing aren’t you?” His voice was a rasp. “Don’t worry Sunny - I’ll take care of you.”

Sunny? Is that how you see me?

He entered you in one brutal thrust, knocking the air out of your lungs and the thoughts out of your head when he bottomed out. His body hunched over yours, a cage locking you against him and the bed. He was thick inside you, pulsing with his own burning arousal. It forced you to breathe through your nose, dust motes floating around you in the musty bed but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Fuck.” He groaned the word out, a shallow thrust pulling a moan from both of you. “You feel better than anything in this world.” His words sent a shudder through you, his breath hot in your ear. You pushed against him as much as you could with him holding you down - fucking yourself with his cock.

You needed him closer. Needed him to possess and overwhelm you, or maybe you needed to feel like he belonged to you, like he wanted to belong to you. You held onto his thigh, pressing fingers into his flesh hard enough to leave a bruise.

“I’m not gonna last-” He spoke the words into your shoulder before pulling you up, his large hands holding you tightly to him. Sweat beaded between your bodies and at the risk of rejection, you had to ask.

“Joely - fill me up, come inside me. Fuck it into me deep.” The words were a prayer disguised as a hopeful whine. His hips stuttered.

“God baby, I want to, I really do but I can’t.” His hand slipped down from its place on your hip to slip through your glossy folds, to pinch at your clit softly. Your slick dripped onto your thighs and his, making his wet thrusts echo in the little room. His other hand reached up to turn your face towards his, eyes lust-blown and staring hungrily at your mouth and for one shining moment you thought he would give you his, but he didn’t. The intensity of it ramped you up higher and higher, all but shoving you off the ledge as he bit into your shoulder.

He held you up as you clenched around him, making him grit his teeth when he pulled out of you to stroke himself against you. He came seconds after leaving you empty, as if he could barely control himself.

I almost had you.

It was another hurt you pushed away. Another bruise to your ego. Another wound sprinkled in to add spice to your pleasure.

You vaguely felt him wiping himself off your skin before sliding your underwear up over your legs and getting into the bed behind you. Confusion twisted your features, keeping you silent as he made himself comfortable in the bed you’d claimed.

He’d fallen asleep almost instantly, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Soft moonlight filtered in through the window, night breezes and his soft snores filled the air, lulling you into a comfortable state. Before you could fall asleep however, he stirred - his big arm draping over you and pulling you tightly to him unconsciously.

It almost hurt, how right it felt to lay like this with him. His skin was warm, he felt safe and strong and all of a sudden sleep no longer held any appeal.

You’ll deny this in the morning. Probably won’t even remember it. Please remember it Joel.

He looked younger in sleep, the scowl was gone - replaced by a peaceful expression; painfully handsome. With his lips slightly parted the urge won, and moving slowly - you took the kiss he wouldn’t give. Soft and chaste, relishing the feeling of it before reluctantly moving away.

He stirred and it dropped rocks into your stomach but he only pulled you closer, filling your heart to bursting and breaking it at the same time.

He was gone when you woke up but you’d expected as much. Your clothes were waiting for you at the foot of your bed along with a protein bar and it filled your heart with something hopeful, something foolish.

Ellie was waiting just outside the room with Joel, he looked up from where he dug through his pack - the scowl now firmly back in place. It made you smile to see him looking well-rested despite his expression. His hair was a mess and you made to move it out of his face but you never managed to reach it. He moved away quickly, denying you with a frown.

“Let’s move.” His voice was angry and though the rejection was to be expected, it didn’t hurt any less. Ellie avoided your gaze and the embarrassment burned a path throughout your body, quickly shifting inside you from pain to a burning anger.

I hate you like this.

With a silent nod, you followed.

He hated the way she looked at him, hated the way he could see her hurt at his refusal to accept a simple touch. It had been reflexive - out of his control; a regret. It turned his stomach, to see her dimmed after his rejection, burned through him even more to feel her anger.

I don’t know if I can be the person you want me to be Sunny.

She avoided his gaze, following them silently through abandoned streets and dense woods alike and he didn’t know how to make it better.

In truth he’d slept better than he ever remembered, even before. When he woke up she’d been curled underneath him, soft and sweet with her legs tangled with his. He’d been unable, or unwilling to move away. Instead he relished how she felt, how comfortable he was. It shamed him that he held her breast, even more so that he didn’t let it go once he realized. Instead he drank in the feeling of her soft skin pressed against his. Committed the smell of her hair to memory, ignored the way his cock hardened when her nipple pebbled in his palm.

He’d never admit it, but leaving her in that bed had been much more difficult than he’d imagined it would be.

How long can I keep this up? How long will you let me?

There was an uncomfortable silence stretching out between the three of you, attaching itself to the edges of everything you did. Every glance, strangling every conversation. Your anger made you silent. It held your tongue between your teeth, giving him less and less as the day wore on.

Ellie’s defence seemed to be the same as yours - she retreated inward at the first sign of conflict. She made herself small, burying her face in her well-worn comic every time you stopped. You gave her space, and took some for yourself in turn.

The weather was mild, the skies clear and it made travelling a tiny bit easier. Blessedly, there were no unfriendly run-ins, now all that was left to focus on was finding a place to sleep.

“This place is as good as any.” The place had been deserted before the world had gone to shit. “Let’s get inside before it gets fully dark.” He forced the door open with a firm shove of his shoulder, that it would give that easily didn’t inspire confidence.

“This place is a shithole.” Ellie couldn’t keep the disgust out of her face or her voice, surveying the interior with a critical eye.

“It'll have to do for tonight.” He pulled a heavy looking piece of furniture to block the door. It might not keep anything out but it would sure make a hell of a lot of noise, give the three of you a fighting chance.

“It’s fine. Let’s eat and then get some shut eye.” You crouched down to dig through your pack, doling out rations enough to keep you all going. “We’ll have to catch something tomorrow. Running low on dried goods.”

You all ate in that same uncomfortable silence, eyes darting around the room as well as at each other before packing everything up and settling in to sleep. The cabin was sparse, a tiny kitchenette that hadn’t seen action since the Cold War and a bedroom which Ellie took after your insistence. Once she was safely tucked away, the tension really swelled.

Where once you would have sought him out and taken whatever intimacy and touch he’d give you, now became an active avoidance. There were truths that had to be faced, one of them being that when it came to Joel- there were real feelings involved. It couldn’t be helped for you - which made it that much harder that he seemed either determined not to give in to his own feelings, or worse still, that he was completely devoid of them. At least not in the same way you had them for him.

One thing was painfully clear to you now, you wouldn’t allow yourself to be used. Not when he only gave you the bare minimum. It hurt too much, boiled the blood too much, set you alight with annoyance and it shamed you to admit to yourself how satisfying it was to be the one to spurn him. He’d become accustomed to your forthrightness, to being sought out and when you didn’t go to him, he came to you.

You could feel him standing over you as you lay on the pile of rags that was the sofa. His scowl burning into your prone form.

“What is it?” You didn’t bother to turn your face to him and after a moment of silence, he sat on the edge of the sofa behind you. Slowly and silently you felt his hand travel from your knee up your thigh to rest at your hip, his fingers drawing tiny patterns on your skin just under the layers. It was such a simple touch, the slightest contact and despite your ardent anger it thrilled you to no end and your body raced to prepare itself for him. You let out a sigh as his hand inched higher, the pads of his fingers sliding up, past the ribs and just teasing under the band of your bra.

“Are you going to kiss me this time?” You couldn’t help but hate how you sounded - a mix of hope and sad resignation. His hand stilled, his lack of reaction as well as response was answer enough. “Goodnight Joel.” You pulled his hand away, and he slunk into the corner- neither one of you saying another word for the rest of the night.

–

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #joel x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us au #the last of us #tlou

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wint3r-h3art · 2 years

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The Devil May Cry

Pairling: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Word count: 3.2K

Summary: Unresolved feelings and yearning thoughts can be dangerous, especially when you are still in love with your ex. A misunderstanding leads to a confrontation that lead you in a situation you’ve never wanted to get out of. This is a follow-up to The Devil’s Lullaby.

⚠️Warning: Slow burn pr0n with feelings, angst, Self- loathing, rom-com cliche (arguing in the rain), unprotected p in v sex.

A/N: I feel the need to write this because I cannot rest till they bang it out. We definitely doing this besties. There’s rain, there’s angst, and there’s seggs. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated and encouraged. Please let me know how you feel about this. I love to hear it.

Gravel-grey painted the cleared blue sky. Large clouds concealed the warmth of the sun that once warmed the chill air of April. Small droplets of rain started to fall on your face as you rushed out of the office. The cool wind breezed past you, pricking your skin with goosebumps as you quickened your pace.

It was a mistake, you shook your head as you were heading back in the direction of your apartment. You swallowed thickly with arms hugging yourself. You weren’t sure whether you were trying to keep your body warm, or whether to keep yourself from falling apart.

The faint drizzle slowly turned into a full-on downpour, soaking every inch of your skin. A crack of thunder boomed loudly, sending tremors through the earth below your feet. You should have been scared or startled, yet you found yourself sobbing.

You knew you shouldn’t have hoped for more than one night with him. It was obvious that you both were still in love with each other by the way he was holding you that night. Both of you knew staying wouldn’t work–at least you tried to make yourself believe that. Yet, that nostalgia and that yearning always came creeping in when you felt the loneliest. The feelings often slithered beneath your skin like a sore when you least expected it, and Matt was the only remedy you needed.

You should have stayed away like you both agreed on–-letting him live the life he wanted, but you let your heart get the best of you. You were once again falling into pieces–the kind that left you emotionally drained and tired. You scoffed at yourself for wanting to see him again by surprising him at his office. You have made up the excuse that you need his help once more with the paperwork for your business. You rehearsed it over and over again on your way there. It was a lame excuse, and you were sure as hell that Matt would figure you out the moment you opened your mouth. Yet, it didn’t stop your feet from moving, and your heart from holding on to hope.

That hopeful heart of yours crumbled when you saw a tall blonde woman in the office. They were talking, and you noticed the way he smiled–the kind of smile that once showed only to you. It felt like you got hit by a sledgehammer. Your chest tightened, and you found it hard to breathe as you watched them silently. As you were about to walk away from this with your wounded heart and pride, you saw the beautiful woman gently sweeping his hair away from his face, and if it was possible, you could hear the sound of your heart shattered all over again.

You roughly wiped your face with the back of your hand as you were only a few blocks away from your apartment. You didn’t care if you were outright sobbing because nothing mattered except for the thought of nursing your heart and patching it up till it was whole again. It may take weeks, or months–that didn’t matter. What matters most now was to give yourself the love you deserved.

You were only a few steps away from reaching the door that lead to your apartment when you felt a firm hand wrapped around your wrist, causing you to gasp out loud. You turned to find Matt soaking from head to toe. He was breathing hard as if he was running after you. He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off first.

“Let go of me.” Your mouth spat out venom as you tried to yank your hand back, but his grasp was stronger.

“Not until you tell me what happened,” he said, clearly unhinged at your tantrum. “I heard you coming in–hell, I could smell you. I thought you were gonna come in, but you left without saying a single word to me. What the hell happened?”

“It’s nothing.”

Matt let out an exasperated breath. You could see the way the muscles of his jaw strained as if he was trying to not lose it.

“You know that I know when you’re lying right, Y/N,” he finally said after some deliberation. You stood there, looking at him as your stream of tears mixed with the rain. You should shiver by the way the freezing downpour soaked you to the bone, but you didn’t.

“I should go inside before I catch a cold,” you said. Your voice was nasally by the number of tears you have shed, clearly trying to get away from this conversation–Hell, from him.

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what exactly?”

Matt’s face fell when he heard the crack in your voice. His jaw slacked as he took a few steps forward with both of his hands holding your face. His thumb gently stroked your cheek as if he could wipe away the salty tears away from you.

“You’re crying,” he said softly. His heart ached, knowing that he may be the person who did this. “I–”

“Just shut up. I’m not crying!” You shoved him away, but he was unmovable. Instead, Matt’s hands covered yours and pulled you into a tight hug. You didn’t know how long you two were standing there as the rain continued to beat down.

Your hands curled into a fist as you buried your face in his chest. Matt brought his arms around you and held you there till you started to cry. It seemed like this was becoming a trend when you were with him. Emotion seemed to pour right out of you whenever you neared each other. For every word that was left unsaid, they turned into the tears that rolling down your cheeks.

“Let’s get you inside before you catch a cold,” he said softly, hand stroking your back. You looked up and watched him for a moment before you agreed and lead him inside.

The apartment were quiet, saved from the sound of your damp clothes and the squeaking of your wet shoes. Matt was holding on to your hand tightly now as if he was afraid to let you go again. His expression was unreadable, and the muscles of his jaws flickered and strained again.

You didn’t think much of it except to quickly unlock the door and lead him inside. You shuddered at the way the warmness slowly enveloped you. You started to peel off your wet clothes. Matt simply stood there as if he was waiting for your permission to undress.

“I should have some changes in the closet,” you muttered softly as you took the last article of clothes.

“You’re keeping guy’s clothes now?”

“Don’t start now, Matt,” you sighed as you went to retrieve them for him. “Whom they belong to shouldn’t matter to you.”

“Easy for you to say that,” he muttered softly, expression fell as he slowly peeled off his suit. There was a hint of jealous in his tone that you were unaware of.

It took everything out of you to not stare. Your eyes lingered from his face down to his chiseled abs and followed the dark trail of hair that disappeared just below his waistband. You didn’t let your eyes linger more as you quickly averted your gaze and quickly grab a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt that might be a bit too big on him.

“They were my father’s,” you said softly as you set them down beside him. Matt paused, feeling like shit now for implying that they belong to some rando. He wanted to apologize, but you didn’t need that right now.

You gave him some space to change when you headed to the bathroom to retrieve a towel from the linen closet. By the time you were back in your living room, Matt was simply sitting down with just the sweatpants on. Clearly, the Lord was testing you.

“I–Uh. Let me dry your hair. Don’t want you to catch a cold or anything,” you said awkwardly as you slowly approached him.

Matt smiled but didn’t say anything as you take the towel and gently dry his head. He was clearly touched by your gesture. It was one of the reasons why he was still in love with you.

A stray hand reached out to touch you, making your heart skip a beat momentarily. You watched him briefly, wondering what he was intended to do, yet he was simply reaching out to touch you. You could feel yourself begin to breathe again as you realized you’ve been holding your breath the whole time.

Once he was dried, Matt offered to help you. Now it was your turn to sit down and let him take care of you.

Your body buzzed at the closeness and the warmness that radiated off of him as if it was anticipating something. Not too long ago you were crying and feeling dejected, and now sitting here, you felt like you were about to burst.

“You still haven’t told me why you came to the office or why you left so quickly,” he started. Matt could feel your body slump forward. He stopped what he was doing, and knelt down in front of you. His hands cradled your face, forcing you to look at him.

“It was nothing.”

“That’s a lie. It was clearly something I did that made you run out like that. So tell me if I offended you in any way.”

You chewed your bottom lip for a few moment, thinking about what to say before you began again. “The woman. Who was she?”

Matt opened his mouth and closed it. He didn’t realize that Karen was involved in this. “Karen?” His brows furrowed, expression painted with confusion. “She–she works for Foggy, and I–What does Karen has anything to do with this?”

“You two were really close,” you said softly. You looked down now, pulling yourself away from his touch slightly. You knew it was childish to feel some type of jealousy for your ex’s new love interest, but you couldn’t help yourself. It was selfish to feel like that--to want him all to yourself yet not wanting him at the same time. It’s the indecisiveness in you that made this jealousy even more ridiculous.

“She’s very reliable, I supposed–But what does she have anything to do with—” Matt stopped then when he realized that Karen was helping him this morning when he showed up disheveled. “You don’t think--”

“It’s ok,” you said shakily as another burst of tears threaten to fall. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you stared down at your feet, trying to pull yourself together and not fall apart right in front of him again. You would not cry and you would not break. Matt wasn’t yours, and he didn’t belong to you. Therefore, you shouldn’t have any reason to be jealous. “It shouldn’t matter what I think. I’m glad you’re happy, Matty.”

“But you don’t sound happy.” You looked at him. His hand covered yours as he brought it to his lips. “You sound sad. It’s heartbreaking to hear you cry.”

You stared at him for a long moment before you began to sob again. All the false pretenses cracked under the weight of his words. Matt held you there, allowing you to ride out all of the emotions before he began again.

“Karen and I are strictly business,” he said softly, hand gently rubbing your back. “We never really worked out. We tried it once, but I couldn’t do it when I still think about you all the time.”

You pulled back and looked at him. His expression was grim as he continued. “What I told you that night wasn’t a lie at all, Y/N. I still think about our lives, and what they could potentially be if we were to stay together…Even now, there’s not a single cell in my body that doesn’t want you. Every breath and every word that I said to you that night were all for you.”

You stared at him for a long moment, unable to speak another word out loud. Your gaze lingered on his face, then on his lips. You found yourself feeling once again gravitated toward him.

“Tell me that you love me then.” The word came out of your mouth without warning. At that moment, you have thrown all of your cautions right out of the window. At that moment, you listened to your heart and it was screaming out for him.

“I love you,” he said confidently as he leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. His thumb caressed your lower lips. His warm breath fanned across your face. “I say it however many times you want me to–Not because you told me. But because I want to.”

Your breath wavered as you closed your eyes as another tear rolled down your cheek. You sat there for a moment, trying to gather yourself before opening your eyes once more and stared at him.

“Show me,” you murmured as you took in a sharp breath, inhaling nothing but his scent. “Show me how much you love me, and make me forget everything.”

Matt’s lips hovered about yours, barely brushing you. The closeness stirred something inside you that sent your nerves into a frenzy from pure anticipation. Every fiber of your being craved for him and want him, and when he finally pressed his lips against you, you felt like you could soar.

He was kissing you with slow deliberation, igniting a familiar warmness that growing in the pit of your stomach. His touch was feather-like at first as if he was scared that you were going to dissolve by his touch.

There was no urgency in the way his lips moved against yours. All you could do was close your eyes and lose yourself to the touch. He tasted of sin and warmth, and you’ve never gotten tired of it.

You felt his breath tickle your face as his hands cradled your face, pulling you in as his kiss deepens. All that softness melted into an urgency that made your core ache and your body hummed excitedly. You gasped softly at the way he pulled you down into his body, crashing you into his solid wall of muscles. Warmness enveloped you as your hand moved frantically, grabbing whatever part of him you could touch.

Your tongue tangled and clash with him. Twisted and rolling till both of you are gasping and panting for air. And even then, it still wasn’t enough. Matt was groaning deep in his chest, sending a reverberation through you, making you squeeze your thighs together. You could feel yourself growing wet the more he touched you and kissed you.

Your fingers raked through those soft brown tresses before you gently tug at them. This seemed to snap something inside of him because his lips were all over you: on your lips, along your jawline, down to the column of your neck, sucking and licking at your pulse point.

“Matty,” you moaned out as you cradled his head in your arms, pressing him against your chest. His lips covered your clothed mound, tongue flicked, and glided over your stiff nipple through the t-shirt. Your breath shuddered as you felt his hands hastily pull down on your sweatpants. The cool air made your body shudder at your nakedness.

Matt’s fingers worked at your entrance impatiently, probing them at your slick slit, grazing it back and forth before he pushed in. You whimpered softly as you held him there. You could feel him smiling while he had your nipple in his mouth. He was sucking on it and teasing it till you begged him to stop.

He was unhinged though because he was determined to show you how he felt. Matt withdrew away from your breast so he could now focus on your neck instead while he continued to fuck you on his fingers.

You sucked in your breath at the squelching sounds of your wetness pierced through the silence of your apartment. Heat flooded your face at the depravity of it all, but you were far too gone to care. Matt rolled you both over till he was on top of you. He parted your legs gently. You watched him settle between your thighs. You watched him carefully as he rolled down the waistband of the sweatpants.

Your mouth watered at the sight of his erect cock, glistening with precum leaking from the slit. You watched him pump the hard shaft a few times before he entered you with a swift motion. A strangled moan escaped from your lips as your tightness enveloped his body. He trembled above you as he was trying to control himself from moving too quickly. You moaned and sobbed as your body stretched out to accommodate him.

Matt pulled back and eased himself back in again until he was all the way inside you. His hips arched fluidly, driving himself in and out of you until you’re drunk with pleasure. His hard body pressed against yours, and you could feel every inch of his muscles coiled and bunched from the effort of his movements.

You wounded your arms around his neck, pulling him for a kiss as he rutted against you, shifting the rug below. Whispered of sweet nothings fell from his lips as he fucked you hard right into the floor below. Each movement brings you closer and closer to your release. The familiar pressure that was building inside the pit of your stomach felt like a tempest inside a kettle. It could only hold so much before everything exploded.

And you did just that. Your body spasmed and strained as you unravel beneath him. A Flood of euphoria engulfed you like a high tide. You squeezed Matt so tightly, milking him and not wanting to let him go as he tried to chase his own that he started to moan heedlessly. It wasn’t long as his movement was erratic and filled with growing fervor.

Matt cummed with a grunt, pulling himself from you while his fist himself till squirts of cum painted your skin. You simply laid there, panting and breathless, clearly still dazed from the aftermath of your release.

You didn’t know how long you lay there, staring at the popcorn ceiling of your apartment. But before you knew it, Matt pulled you closer to him. Silence filled the room once more saved from the sound of your heavy breathing.

“Did we do the right thing?” you were the first to break the silence. You could feel his thumb brushing along your arms.

“Does it matter?” You didn’t answer. Matt sighed. “If you want to get back, I have no problem with that—whatever you want, I follow.”

“But what do you want?”

“You.” His answer was definite, and you knew it too. You couldn’t help but press your lips against his cheek. A sweet smile curved at the corner of his lips. Both of you simply lay there, bathing in the afterglow of your orgasms. Words were exchanged in a form of soft touches as promises were made that night.

The Devil may cry when he lost his lover, but you’ve never lost yours.

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junova · 3 years

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↬ 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

abstract — steve professes his love for you then disappears for three months. what happens when he returns?

pairing — steve rogers x fem!reader

wc — 2.7k

warnings — 18+ DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR, heavy smut, daddy kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), cockwarming if u squint, cussing, angst, fluff.

[m blabs] — howdy howdy! this is for @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes , and @amythedvdhoarder hoelentine’s fic swap! sorry this is a day late pls dont come for me and i did not proof read this so i apologize for future readers suffering thank u

my giftee was one of the insanely talented writers on this app — @donutloverxo ! hope you like it berry! <3

It had been months since you’d seen him. An undercover mission taking longer than originally thought left you feeling lonelier to your own surprise. You blamed it how the two of you left things unresolved. Out in the open, all of his feelings laid out on a silver platter for you to take.

All of it. Steve, his love, the moment of words you’d dreamed of him saying — it was too real. Too unimaginable to believe. He always is.

You’d never really had someone you who went out of their way everyday to make you feel loved and Steve did. Truly, you should have seen it sooner. The consistency of his adoration and loyalty blew the limits of platonic friendship. Not until, he was nearly crying, choked up by his own words did you realize just how much it ran deep within him.

The words he spoke to you were still echoing in the forefront of your mind, not letting you breath for a moment. Were you really in love with him just as much as he was with you? It was hard to believe just because Steve was so far out of reach. Especially for you.

Watching his beautiful shade of cerulean, bright and beaming with hope, wanting nothing more than to for you to see him. Leaving him the impression that you didn’t cut the two of you deep. Your answer was hesitant, full of caution. Exactly the opposite for what he was yearning for.

Now, just like you had done for the past couple of weeks, you found yourself waiting in the tower for him. You lingered around no matter how many times Tony told you they would let you know when he was home safely. It didn’t stop you from coming, though.

Even if you knew it would be even longer until you would get to finish the conversation with him, being her helped you feel more at ease. Plus, no one’s besides Tony had the guts to try and make you leave.

Natasha and Sam were the only ones who didn’t really question it. Ever since you met Steve, you were here so often but they just so happened to be walking down the hall when he confessed exactly how wide his affection ran for you.

As they watched you linger in the tower, even if the outcome had been different than Steve wanted or expected, Sam and Nat were starting to see just how much you cared for him.

Natasha was the one to catch you silently sleeping in one of his sweatshirts cuddled up into his sheets. Thankfully, still smelling like him just enough to lull you into a peaceful slumber.

Then, Sam caught you peeking at the framed picture of the two of you sitting on his desk, the only one which did. Admiring the way you let your fingers drift around the wooden frame, endearingly. Internally, continuing to fight this inner battle within you.

“If it makes it any easier, I’m sure he misses you just as much.” You peaked up at the tone of Wilson’s voice, making his presence known. He walked over to you, watching as you continued to look at the photo.

Your smile wide at your college graduation, ball and gown, wearing a dress you knew Steve liked with his arms wrapped around your waist in a truly candid moment, one you’d forgotten about. The picture more than likely buried so deep within your phone with the countless others you had taken of and with him.

“I wish it did, but it doesn't really. Just wish I knew he was okay. I worry a bit too much, I think.” You spoke softly, halfway speaking to Sam but you mostly just spoke to yourself. “I never knew he kept this photo of us here.” Your touch finally disconnects from the sturdy frame.

“He really thinks too sweetly of me.” Standing in his office, surrounded by all of his belongings made it so much harder for you to cut ties like you had originally wanted to do. “Really? Couldn’t tell by how he talks about you constantly.”

“Oh my god, Sam.” You tried to ignore the butterflies erupting in your tummy, but anytime Steve was mentioned it seemed to be an effect he only seemed to pull from you. “What? C’mon, all of us know he was planning on telling you how he felt before Bucky and him left.”

Well, it seemed the embarrassment only seemed to continue.

“All of you, even Tony?” You asked him, even if you knew the answer. You just wanted the attention off you. “Especially Tony. Why do you think he’s been more of a smartass lately?” It made sense, but it did nothing to calm the nerves threatening to boil over.

“I guess I’m just having a hard time believing everyone knew how he felt, but me. I just never thought he would ever feel this way again, about anyone, after Peggy. She was the love of his life and it’s not something I couldn’t possibly measure up to.” You stopped looking at the picture, feeling sick to your stomach.

“With all of what he’s told me, I’ll always feel second best to her because I know just as everyone else if he could still have her he would.” You saw the sketch one time, when he left it open on the counter. It wasn’t really like you to snoop, but you couldn’t help it one day and you did.

Page after page, it was all of Peggy. Any feelings you were harboring for him at the time were thrown to the wind. Because then, you knew. Now matter how important you were to him now, you would always be in the shadow of his first love. The one that got away from him.

“What makes you think that?” Tears were starting to surface and you couldn’t handle it, the worst of your insecurities creeping in.

“Just ask to look at his compass next time you see him.” But you knew what was there. You didn’t need yet another painful reminder of it. “Why would I torture myself like that, Sam?”

“Trust me. You may be surprised.” You highly doubt you would be, so why even try?

The party was in full swing by the tie you arrived. The tower was full with more people than usual as you stepped in, watching as everyone enjoyed themselves. You were hesitant to even come to Natasha’s celebration at all.

You hadn’t been here since your conversation with Sam. Just a little too worried Steve might catch you lingering in his home and sleeping in his clothes. It was something the both of you did, but now with his feelings laying out in the open it seems so much more intimate than before.

Just as you were about to head towards the bar area, where everyone was, you left a large find your own grabbing your attention.

“Hi, sweetheart.” His velvety, smooth voice makes you melt just like it always does. It didn’t register for a second, just who you were talking to and when you did he was in for it.

“Stevie!” You leaped into his arms, too shocked to mask your sheer excitement as your legs wrapped around his slim waist, letting yourself be caught by him.

“I missed you so much, honey.” His words clenching at your heart at the endearing nickname. You felt him sigh into you, one of relief.

“I missed you, too.” You mumbled while you were still clinging onto him like your life depended on it.

“As much as I want to catch up, I feel like we should talk about what happened before I left.” Already, your heart dropped into your chest.

“Stevie, it can’t wait. Don’t worry about it. Okay?” You tried to rub it off because even after all this time you still weren’t certain of the weight in his words.

You let yourself down, off of him, and tried to lead him in the direction of the party but he didn’t budge.

“Please, work with me here. I’m sure they all miss you and want to see you.” Now, you were just stalling and Steve could see it as clear as day.

“Sweetheart, please just stop for a minute.” He felt your hand fall as you crossed your arms over your chest passively.

“Please, Steve.” You pleaded with him and for a moment you just thought he might go with you until those dating words fell from his plump lips.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” Those words effectively shut you up as Steve stepped closer to you.

“I think about if you love me as much as I’ve fallen in love with you.” You couldn’t find it in yourself to move as he edged closer to you.

“Lately, I’ve been thinking about how much I want to kiss those pouty lips of yours. How much I wanna claim you in every single way.” He was so close to you now, questioning how you were still breathing.

“Just tell me you don’t want this and I’ll go down to that party right now and pretend like this never happened.” When you were silent, looking anywhere but him, he got the hint.

You watched as he walked in the navy clad plants with a button up clinging to his narrow waist.

“Wait!” Even with your heels, you ran to him while he waited for you to catch up.

“Do you still carry your compass on you?” You questioned him with tears in your eyes he hadn’t noticed until now.

And it crushed him.

“Of course I do. Wait...Is this just another crack at how old I really am?” Maybe if you weren’t sure he had just crushed your heart with a single response you might’ve laughed.

“I know this is going to sound weird but can I see it?” Watching him reach for it in his right pocket, you noticed the crimson blush reaching his cheeks.

“I just-, how is this is going to change anything?” Watching him as he awkwardly fidgeted with the object in hand.

“I don’t think it will, but I just need to see it.” He handed it over and you held it for a moment before opening it and nothing could have prepared you for it.

Well, possibly Sam’s words if he had elaborated more.

“I-I know it’s kind of weird. I’m sorry I should have asked when I took that photo but you just looked so beautiful like always and I couldn’t help it. I can take it out if it creeps you out too much.” His words trailed off on a mumbling mess as he was afraid he scared you off.

Even more than before.

“I thought you said Peggy’s photo was in it. Wasn’t it?” This time you were the one getting closer as you pushed back the wet hair away from his face, probably from the shower he’d taken not long after he came back.

“She was, but then I fell in love with you.” He leaned into your touch as both of your hands cradled his face.

“You’re my person. My soulmate. My home. I used to be so angry for so long because I had lost everything I ever loved, but it was all just leading me here. Right in this moment with you.”

You could’ve died happy right then, because the man of your dreams was confessing just on how much he loved you, again.

“Steven Grant Rogers?” You watched as his eyebrows furrowed at the mention of his full name. “Don’t you ever stop loving me. Ever.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He needed nothing more until he was locking his lips with your own. Commanding dominance from the start, causing you to whimper in response.

His skillful tongue sliding into your mouth, causing you to moan even more when he picked you up carrying you into his bedroom.

Before you even realized it, he was recklessly threw you on his bed as he stripped himself down to his boxers. His washboard abs and bulging muscles on full display.

In a flash, he was right back on you worshipping your body, turning you into a moaning mess.

Hiking up your red silky dress until it rested on your hips, your pretty pussy glistening already and he had barely touched you.

Without warning, he slipped two fingers into your warm heat watching as your head flew back. “Oh fuck, daddy.”

The words went straight to his cock as he pumped his finger in and out of you, leaving you begging for me.

“Oh, you like when Daddy’s fucking you with his fingers?” You nodded, unable for anything but moaning his name while he added another finger in you. You're hips moving uncontrollably as he was eye level with you.

Using his free hand, he gripped your jaw forcing you to look at him. “I want you to look at me when you come, princess.” With one swift moment, his thumb rubbed over your clit and you lost it.

Hearing you cry out beneath him as he pushed you over, screaming out his name as he continued to fuck your through the high.

“I need to milk your cock, Daddy. I need you to fill me up with your fucking cum.” He threw his boxers to the wind as he let you maneuver yourself on top.

“C’mon, princess. Let me see you bounce on my cock. Show me how bad you need my cum.” You surely didn’t need to be told twice.

Grabbing his hard cock by the tip, before rubbing over the tip and a few times before letting yourself to sink down until you bottomed out.

“You’re so fucking big. Shit.” But Steve didn’t let you take a breather for a moment until he was fucking up into you. Letting you know who was in complete control.

Until your hands found his hips and you used all your strength to pull almost all the way off of him before sinking roughly on his cock.

“Shit, princess.” As you whimpered you pushed yourself to bounce on his cock, no matter how much pain came with pleasure.

“Look at those tits, princess. You’re so fucking hot fucking yourself on Daddy’s cock. Such a good girl.” But then he flipped over pulling himself out of you before manhandling you on all fours.

Smoothing a hand over your spine, “You’re being such a good girl for Daddy. Let me take care of you.” Wrapping his hand around his thick, cock before finding your slick lower lips.

Rubbing the tip of cock along your folds, watching your body tremble before him. “Daddy, please.” You whined like a spoiled brat, begging for attention.

He’d break you of that later.

But now? He cock was practically dying for a release.

He slowly pushed himself into you, watching as your ass inches towards him more. Then, he was slamming himself into you so roughly you couldn’t fucking breathe.

Grabbing you by the hips, he fucked into you like his life depended on it. Admiring you as you took everything you gave him. The second climax hits you more quickly than you thought.

Steve grabs wraps his arm around you, pulling you up with his cock still thrusting up inside you — chasing his own high.

“I’m going to need you to cum with me, princess.” As he fucked into, your chest against his own and as you heard the slapping of his balls hitting your ass.

“Daddy, I can’t. It’s too much.” You shook your head, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“Milk me, Sweetheart. I’m dying to fill you up baby. Let me cum in this tight pussy.” His fingers finding your clit, sending you over the edge.

“Yes. Jesus Christ. Don’t fucking stop.” He continued to fuck you senseless as you came.

“Shit, baby girl. I’m cumming.” Slamming himself hard than before as continued to fuck you into oblivion, his seed filling you up until you the both of you collapsed falling into his soft sheets.

The two of you just stayed there for a while with his cock buried deep beneath you. Soon, enough he pulled out leaving you empty.

He jumped out of bed before comping with a wet rag to clean you up, before pulling you into his chest.

“Okay, I think I might have a Daddy kink.” Making Steve laugh, slightly.

“Yeah, maybe just a little bit sweetheart, not that I’m complaining.”

#omfg this is so ROUGH #but i havent written in like 2 months #so at least we did it!#heck yeah :')#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #stever rogers smut #steve rogers fan fiction #mcu fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #m.writes #happyhoelentinesday2021

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kuroowo · 3 years

Text

Fears

- Kita x GN!Reader

Summary - Kita isn't scared of many things, but he is scared of one thing — falling out of love with you.

Genre - Angst, Hurt/No comfort

Note - I tried to write fluff, it didn’t work LOL. Actually, I tried to write & it didn’t work 🤡 but I managed to get this out, so hopefully my writers block ends soon bc I miss writing 😭

WC - 0.8K

Masterlist

There aren’t many things that incite fear in him, that has chills wracking him to his core and bones freezing out in place. It’s not a feeling he’s used to, nor is it an emotion he cultivates or stews in. But when he gazes at the figure of your back one idle afternoon, an unprecedented fearfulness sinks its claws into the depths of his iron-willed heart and renders him breathless in the worst of ways possible.

Kita Shinsuke is scared.

He’s scared because you’re not the first face he’s aching to see in the morning. When he wakes even before the sun does, when he rolls over and rubs the sleep out from his bleary eyes, your face, relaxed deep in slumber, is not what he lingers on anymore. He doesn’t take a few minutes out to gaze at your features, he doesn’t feel like pressing a kiss upon your forehead to wish you sweet dreams, and he doesn’t smile when he notices the mess of your hair. Kita simply rolls right back over and out of the bed you share. It’s cold, it shaves off the minutes he used to sacrifice for you in his routine, and it’s impersonal. The same way he is when he goes to bed at night. Unsparing of even a loving glance your way, he slips under the covers with a monotonous, “Goodnight.”, and strays towards the sandman with the ceiling as his last conscious view. Rinse and repeat.

He’s afraid because he doesn’t enjoy your physical affections anymore. The touch of your lips doesn’t make his heart race, the feel of your fingers running through his hair doesn’t wash over him a sense of peace, and the warmth of your skin on his doesn’t leave him craving for more. Confusion eats at the corners of Kita’s mind when he realises how he doesn’t actively seek for your affections as well. His lips don't move forward to catch your own, his fingers don’t intertwine with yours on contact, and his skin doesn’t itch to feel yours as you lay miles apart on the same beddings. Your touch doesn’t make him yearn, it doesn’t make him ache, it doesn’t spread a familiar warmth in his chest — the way he always thought it would.

He’s terrified because of his newfound obstinacy in arguing with you. Kita used to be patient, he used to try and solve the issue calmly, lay down factual information and talk it through with you like adults, and tried to see where you were coming from — he used to care about how you felt during these times. Key word: Used to, past tense. Bygone are the days where he attempts to be civil, to be thoughtful, to find the middle ground like it isn’t a chore. Every word out of your mouth now grates on his nerves twice fold, thrice fold, until he all but cuts into your heart with freezing words and biting looks. Until the both of you are too tired to carry on. Until the scars of your battle set into the quiet of the night, cicadas and his own heartbeat as his companion — he finds reprieve in them. The issue is unresolved, you two sleep with your backs facing each other, the previous night is brushed under a rug like the rest of them. He wants to mean it when he apologises after you do, but he doesn’t.

He’s frightened because he doesn’t dream of you anymore. The farmer doesn’t daydream much to begin with, but on the rare occasion that he did, it was always filled with you. Your laughter, your care, your comfort — it brought a smile to his face and a warm feeling in his heart. Now, the thought of you doesn’t even cross his mind. Kita has to resort to forcing himself to daydream about you when he catches his mind wandering, and it feels empty. A void opens up deep in his chest and fills with a heavy sense of despondent guilt. It makes his shoulders weigh more than he should be carrying, and it makes the shine in his eyes dull. In slumber, however, he finds respite — a place where he isn’t haunted by his guilt because there is no you. He doesn’t dream of you, not anymore.

There aren’t many things that incite fear in Kita Shinsuke, but now, he’s scared. He’s scared because he knows he’s falling out of love with you, and he knows there’s nothing he can do — nothing he wants to do to reverse this. It makes a murky kind of dread pool in his gut at the realisation, and it makes him frown in the middle of a blooming spring noon as his heart beats a sour dismay into his bones.

He’s fearful because when you turn around to face him with solemn eyes and a melancholic smile — he knows you know of his fears too.

#kita x reader #kita shinsuke #kita angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#hq #hq.fics #haikyuu x reader

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 2 months

Text

Castoff full

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Villain!Reader

Words: 10,288

Tags: Angst, fem!reader, heartbreak, villain reader, unresolved insecurity, anger, canon divergent, first part?, suggestive content, RTTE, Httyd 2, Compiles parts 1, 2, 3, 4

<Previous

You stepped away from the half open door, back into the darkness of the cabin, wondering how they could be so happy together even after the raid, a skirmish so tough and violent- you’d had a fight with some new dragon hunters from outside the area, and they’d been unlike any of the ones you’d dealt with before.

You hadn’t known for sure that it would ever have ended. Yet somehow, supposedly, it did. You still felt like an outlier, though. Your heart was his for so long that to see them together felt like a betrayal, and to be with him now felt like a betrayal of that.

There was true love, romantic love and meant-to-be love.

Now, you wondered what sort of love he held for you with brown armor, red shirt, green eyes. Hands held gently, preciously out for your own.

You made to reach out, but instead you turned away, missing the look of hurt you knew you would be there; the hurt in his eyes, the loose brows, the slightly disappointed tilt of his lips. You couldn’t, not with any of the others around.

You didn’t miss the hushed conversation, carried on just the same as it had earlier but in lower tones, the small looks shared between them, the unsaid thought that maybe you just weren’t right for each other. That you were a bad pair.

You furrowed your brows. You let him down again.

But it didn’t feel right, to love and share love, especially with her so closely there, with the ghost of them ever so present. It filled you with shame.

You still felt as if he was hers, that you were encroaching on something you weren’t supposed to have. It was a messy situation. They ended amicably, yet you’d been feeling terribly for a long, long time.

You wondered if the feeling, the bone-deep hate for yourself, would ever go away, like you’d dreamed.

For the nth time that day, you had to stop and wonder when Hiccup the Useless became Hiccup and Useless.

You buried your head into your knees, tired of staring out over the windy clifftop. No number of waves or gusts of wind could brush away your troubles.

You didn’t even miss Berk. You didn’t have a reason to go, nor one to stay. You were just a floater, tethered only just so by the tattered, frayed strings of your own heart.

He was sitting next to you, a silent question on his lips, left unsaid but just as clearly heard.

Your touching fingertips became more as you clutched his hand, squeezing it.

You’d always been the confidant. To have your positions switched was odd, unfamiliar. Hiccup was gawky and unsure in your boots. To have your troubles laid out between the two of you, of which there were many, disturbed you. The idea felt like a violation.

You turned to your right and looked at him pleadingly though you weren’t sure what you were pleading for- Nothing, everything at once? To not leave you behind, not to make you stay.

“Hiccup,” You stared hoarsely, hesitantly. It was silly and it was stupid, just the act of speaking aloud. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. He never would.

Truly, you had only one question.

“Do you love me?” You asked. He looked confused, startled.

You leaned closer. You couldn’t tell which way he moved, if he moved at all. You imagined he moved away. He waited.

He looked at you expectantly. Unsurely. Why weren’t you moving even closer?

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know if you could.

You’d never loved or been loved in any sort of way which mattered. The fact that you hadn’t had felt like a burden, somehow just another reason as to why you weren’t deserving. An onerous boon that you just wanted to be rid of.

Yet, he knew what was supposed to happen next. He’d experienced it; done it and had it done many times over. You hadn’t.

You two hadn’t been that close yet, not at all, not physically. This was not a boundary the two of you had crossed. You shared nothing more than a few mumbled words into the neck, a few nearly soft words in your nook, a tight embrace and hands held loosely in the quiet darkness of the night. Promises, dedications. No actions.

The others knew about it, though. They heard the declaration, quiet and uttered as if it was just a casual thing. For him it was.

You said nothing. How could you?

You hesitated, waiting for an answer. Your lips twitched. Your eyes burned, stronger then. You shook your head and dropped his hand which he let fall to the wayside. Using your hands and the floor, you pushed away.

As always, you couldn’t bear it. He waited for you, just as you didn’t want to be someone to wait for. You wanted to already have it.

You wanted back the years you spent wasting away, you coveted back the years you spent watching him give what you desperately needed so casually to another.

You stood, then.

You turned. You held your elbows and hunched your shoulders, turning your back to him and pushing against the wind, which though was light, and felt all of the sudden as if it was way too much.

You weren’t sure he meant it- Meant this. You didn't know whether or not this was real or something he’d just fallen into as per convenience.

You did. You meant it. He was your true, he was your romantic.

What kind of love do you hold for me?

You knew the answer, plain and simple.

None. None at all.

You stood in the darkness of your cabin. Your windows were blocked, though you didn’t need the light. You’d been in for a while, you were used to it.

You’d exhausted your usual time-taking avenues, left with nothing but maintenance; folding, organizing, sorting.

You didn’t flinch as the door to your cabin opened, creaking, though you winced as you turned back towards the light, started as he came up, pressing you gently against the wall.

Your lips met.

It was not rough, more ‘just so.’ It unbalanced you all the same.

He was unsure, nervous. Clumsy. But he had done it on purpose. But it was meaningful, maybe. You could tell he meant it.

You molded into his shape just as he molded into yours. Hesitantly, unsurely, you responded. He was soft enough to guide you.

Once again, you asked, though not so much in words as actions; Do you love me?

And this time, he responded. Not violently, not roughly, just so, enough for a shining pink petal to crest green sepal. Your heart bloomed.

Yes. Yes, I do love you.

You were light, you were fervent, you were free. You believed him.

You were far from the Edge. In unfamiliar territory, any and all allies unaware and absent, the dragons trapped in cages long behind you.

Off over the sea, the hunters were sailing away.

It was a victory, however it was also one that came with a terrible price. Something had been set off, violently at that, throwing you off the edge of the cliff face, destabilizing the cage held by a chain pinned to the rock above by a thin steel nail.

“Hiccup,” You pleaded, breathlessly as your body struggled to keep up with your weight, with the rope and chains tied around your ankle, “H-elp.”

I need you.

“Just- hold on, the others-” He crouched, glancing frantically between you and the rest. trapped in a hanging cage still stuck off the larger cliff’s side. Their chains were thin and yours were thicker, though both were just as equally dangerous.

Please, I need you now.

And of course Hiccup didn’t realize, his focus trained elsewhere. There was no time to waste. After all, if he helped you up, in the time that took, they might fall. They would fall.

“Hiccup!” Astrid shouted. Snotlout shouted.

You remembered how they looked before you’re been knocked off, Fishlegs panicking, mumbling to himself zealously, distress projected clearly for all to see and Ruffnut and Tuffnut yelling mindlessly into the air, a waning battlecry as the island deteriorated around you

Somehow, in between terror, in between the pain of your ankle as it threatened to snap and the taut muscle of your arms, a grim doom began to worm and thrash and coil in your gut.

“I’m not- I’m not going to make it,” You said desperately, voice crackling, face scrunching as tears began to spill over edges, shoulders straining, holding on just barely.

“Please, there’s-Just, cut me loose-” You prayed to whichever god was out there that he still had his knife. That he had something sharp. You were going to die.

You could tell he was stressed, overwhelmed, just as panicked. He shifted restlessly, stiffly, perhaps a million times in the last minute.

Noise built up in his throat as he spoke but you were unable to hear it clearly as your ears filled with buzzing.

You tried to speak, but you couldn’t hear your own voice, too breathless and strained to make a sound.

You watched his eyes flicker, you saw the soot on his face and each strand of his hair as it waved in great detail, your world slowing down to a halt.

He stopped. You caught his eyes briefly and you saw as an idea formed, as his resolve hardened and as he made his choice. You knew it would not be one he made for you.

There was a sharp pain in your chest, as if the nails you dug in with so despairingly were instead gripping your lungs, sharp and unforgiving.

Do you love me?

You were going to die.

You blinked away tears and snot and all the little, tiny shards of your heart that had gotten stuck in your eyes on their way out.

You just had to hold on. You just had to hold on until Hiccup got back.

Your nails hurt as they worked against mainstay and loose dirt, fragile roots and falling stones. Your fingers pained as they worked furiously against themselves.

Hiccup left you. He wasn’t going to come back. You were going to die before he got back.

It was like a stake had been shoved into your gut.

Hiccup left you.

You were going to die.

Your vision whited out.

You were going to die.

You couldn't hold on any longer.

You fell.

A knife, if not useful, was novel. It was decorated and polished and mounted. Sheep meant wool and warmth, and when there was nothing else left, they were meat. Comfort, love, desire; those were all good currencies for exchange.

You blinked awake, choking out water, suffocating as your throat closed up on you, your windpipes flexing and expelling water violently from your lungs.

It burned. Your throat burned, ripped to shreds by your rough coughing. Your nose burned, dripping mucus and salty seawater.

Time, resources, space; It was all simply a matter of measure.

Your head felt heavy, like a keg had been placed up your nose, to the point where the pressure was unbearable. You could feel the blood reddening your face, pounding through your veins, though nothing pounded quite as hard or as desperately as your heart.

He let you go.

Your shoulders were hunched, the pads of your fingers digging painfully into splintered wood as you turned over, overcome with vertigo as you coughed and coughed over and over until there was no more water left to cough up.

He let you go.

-And yet you still kept going, choking and gagging on air. You didn’t stop, not until your throat was just still and sore and scratchy.

You turned your face up again, shivering and blinking against the sun and the biting wind. It was cold, and you could feel the chill all the way down your spine.

Slowly, you became aware of the bodies around you, heavy boots beating against a hollow ship’s body like marching demons and the slow rocking of the ground, which perhaps hadn’t just been a consequence of your addled mind.

Your ears rang as you took them in, noting branded arms and sliced ears. You prayed you were wrong, though you were afraid your rescuers were not the kind hearted stranger type. You wondered what it meant to be who you were, and what the difference between rescue and captive mean on this barge.

Dread curled in your gut. Though you knew little, you were afraid you’d fallen into a caged pit and the water was rushing in too fast for you to catch a grip.

“What do we have here, boys?” A body blocked out the light, then, dark and blurry against everything else.

His shoulders were set under beige furs, a blurry, sardonic smirk pasted to his face above a blue-striped chin. a hand was shoved forward, towards you, clear against the sea and wood.

You blinked, popping your ears in an attempt to discern some of the rowdy murmuring you could hear in the background.

You wondered if he noticed, when you’d fallen.

Hesitantly, you reached out your hand, shaking and dry from the salt and lack of nourishment, grasping at the palm with your weak fingertips. You were quickly tugged to your feet, and you stood, shaking, sopping wet, sand ran through your hair and stuck in the folds of your clothes.

Everything had a use. But what use would you have to them?

What was the point of looking for something you had no use for?

He grabbed you by the shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. You wondered if he would let you keep walking, let you break away if you wanted, to hide mournfully between the barrels a little while longer.

You’d been there for enough time to figure you’d been dragged out by a Scauldron, perhaps, or some other seafaring beast. There were plenty back in cages on the island, most of which you’d had a hand in freeing with measurable success. There was no other way you could have gotten so far out so quickly.

The captain pushed with enough force to your shoulder to turn you, though not enough to make you stumble. No, that would be saved for later. You were sure of it.

Despite your efforts, in the moment, you couldn’t help meeting your eyes.

The emblems burned into the trappers and on the rails of your vessel already had you on edge, worst of all when you’d realized that you’d recognized the insignia.

Somehow, you had landed yourself on the barge sent to help transport trapped cargo, a vessel just the same as the kind you’d helped hoodwink a while prior.

You hid around corners as the two vessels communed, sharing their experience with the dragon fraternizes. You couldn’t play two sides. Not at once.

There was no hiding who you were any longer. You heard, hidden around a corner with your hands frozen as if bolted to your elbows, back hunched and pressed to the uneven wood at your back.

You were the ‘meek’ one. It was obvious. You ground your teeth bitterly.

You’d realized with rising panic that you’d freed the dragons. If there were any here, they were hard to access, hidden so deeply and with restraints so tight that you hadn’t heard a peep.

Back home, back on berk, back on the Edge, you could wear the facade of someone who was sure, someone who was familiar, but here, out on uneven ground and a million lengths away from everything you had grown to know, you were unstable. Vulnerable. Peeled absolutely raw.

You stared at him head-on, barely able to stop your lip from wobbling. You felt as if your very bones would begin to shake as like met like.

The look in his eyes reminded you of a Terror you’d seen once, strung to a washing line like a man to his own execution, vicious and proud but relieved to be freed suddenly by the magnanimous snap of thin rope. It was a temporary thing.

You had been vaguely familiar with what it was like before, toeing the line between use and dead weight. You were certain you knew the feeling now.

Maybe he was, in part, relieved to have someone else take the center stage. There was something just as dangerous about being in the spotlight as there was in being stuck in the sidelines, like you had been shoved up onto the bow with the raging sea to your front and a spear to your back.

Now, Your hands were tied, the sea was rising and it was getting harder and harder to see through the chilling, misty spray. Even just standing there, under the sturdy wooden overhang with a grim, threatening hand tightening around your shoulder, you could hear the phantom laughs of demons through the fog and storm.

Though it hadn’t happened quite yet, you knew that already you were as good as a dead man. You’d known that as soon as you had been dropped off the side of a cliff like yesterday’s rotten meal. This would be much, much worse.

Your fate had already been sealed.

You held the knife up, hands shaking, shivering as if it were a metal pole that had just been struck.

Your eyes pounded, swollen nearly shut. This wasn’t a place for the soft-hearted.

The rest of the crew crowded around you, laughing and crowing to each other, each vocalization mocking you in ways that bounced off and back toward your blistering skin like buzzing flies. Your eyes burned.

Their taunting voices meshed together with old words, ones from years past which strung together to form phrases that bit, though not nearly as rough as fists and the thin cuts of knives, jeering at you like you were a caged animal, strung on a wire, waiting to see what you might do next.

Even on Berk, when the Vikings there had been the most vicious dragon slayers across all of Midgard, you’d never had the guts or the finesse to do it. But, on Berk, your life hadn’t been so tightly tied to the line. Just you worth, of which you were certain there was none left, if there ever had been any at all.

Large yellow eyes stared up at you, pleading behind a rigid metal muzzle. The dragon, chained and bound, jerked against its restraints, but they were done too tight.

It was the same look you were sure was reflected in your own eyes.

Why are you upset? You hated it.

Maybe it wasn’t a matter of what you didn’t have. Maybe it was, instead, a matter of what you did.

You thought, mockingly, of the version of yourself who might have wished you were as brave as Hiccup, to be able to throw the knife away. To be able to exchange your life for its own.

You weren’t. You were a coward.

You hated it with all the desperation of someone who knew you were both going to die anyway, hated how it got to cry and suffer so fervently when you did not.

How did it get to wail, even trapped as it was, with such feverish abandon while you were stuck, here, as you would be, forever? You were certain.

The sharp weight of eyes ground into the space between your shoulder blades from all angles, ready to snap like the large polished traps mounted on the ship’s walls.

You wanted it. You wanted it deeply, though you knew you couldn't have it. You couldn’t have any of it. The only thing you had was… the dragon.

And so you decided. There were no other actions to take.

This would be your suffering.

Your hand shook still, but with more eagerness this time. The eagerness to bite, to carve and hack at yourself, to slice away the parts that you hated. To stab as if you could cut out all the parts you found both unworthy and unwanting.

You closed your eyes, face contorting perniciously as you felt time trickle past, a grain of sand drifting to the bottom of a polished glass, life ceasing motion even as it remained invisible to you behind blightful eyelids.

And everything was all the worse for it

May you be welcomed to Valhalla.

You’d made a mistake.

You choked down a whining sob as you stared down at bloodied hands, still-wet ichor fresh and liquid. Your vision blurred around the edges as you sat with your back pressed against the wall, knees up to your chin.

They didn’t care to keep track, sure that the sniveling, cowering form of you wouldn’t be hard to subdue given the opportunity. You were an animal trapped in the hunt and they were the hunters, careless and yet exceptionally dangerous.

It was slippery. It was clumsy and you’d come at it from the wrong angle. It was a poor slice, and you could remember clearly how the knife dragged, catching and jerking through solid tendons like you were slicing through tight venison.

Your inexperience showed. You were sure, at first, that you had cut in the wrong spot, but then again, you weren’t sure you knew which spot was right in the first place.

You brought your hands over your ears, as if to cover up the phantom sounds of heavy gurgling and high-pitched, barely-there whines. Screeching and crowing, voice both stuck and gurgling as it bled out through its raspy, buckling throat.

You felt the clotted blood smear off around your ears and you fought the urge to gag.

It was a long and messy death. You had to stab more than once, watch as big yellow eyes bulged and strained painfully, making your own eyes hurt in turn.

You wondered if dragons were edible, what it would be like to bite into it, jaw gnashing like an animal. You saw a dragon do that to a person once, pulling their arm off their body with the flick of a jaw. You’d never tried.

You always imagined it would be tasteless. You knew there were Berserkers who did it, who tore into dragonflesh like it was their last meal, too immersed in zealous battlelust to taste anything but blood and the thrill of the hunt.

Heavy boots beat against wood and through it as a group of men walking by your hiding place around the bend. They hadn’t seen you. They probably didn’t care, too busy laughing and cheering amongst themselves.

Even with their voices muffled and your hands covering your ears to the best of your ability, you could still hear them loud and clear.

They were going to kill you.

You eyed the knife by your feet, dull and bloody, lungs clenching as you struggled to breathe.

Knives needed to be sharpened after every battle with a dragon. Something about their thick skin and wicked hide dulled the blade. You remembered that much for all your life spent under the thumb of warring Vikings.

The Vikings on Berk used to skin the dragons they killed. It was a chore of yours to help tan the pelts and to either sew them into tunics or prepare them to be mounted as a trophy of their victory.

Uneven, clawed fingernails dug into your arms as you struggled for purchase.

Hiccup hadn’t had the misfortune to experience it. Not a lot of the other Riders probably had. It was your job. It always made you nauseous, so it wasn’t something you talked about much.

Stoick the Vast did it. He had his own tunic made. He still wore it, draped securely across his torso. Most people mistook it for chainmail, but you knew. You helped make it.

You felt sick.

The boat rocked back and forth, sturdy hull ripping through waves in time with the rapid beating of your heart.

There was a deadline.

You shut your eyes tight, blocking out the tears that threatened to push through. You weren’t like the others, built and skilled in the art of making daring escapes. You weren’t. You were soft words and small touches and you were just as good as dead. There would be no one to come to your rescue. You weren’t sure there ever was one.

Dragon scales were sturdy. You hoped the same could be said about skin. You knew you were wrong.

You felt not yourself as you stood over the man, boat rocking back and forth hypnotically.

You clenched your still crusted fists, leaning into it.

It reminded you of a time from when you were a child. Wandering around the hall, with a younger version of Hiccup… Old Johannes.

Depending on his mood and how you asked, whichever story he chose to tell would go on forever and ever.

You eyed the ropes to his hammock, frayed and gray, thick enough to burn should you remove the furs from his bed. Unaware, the other trappers slept and snoring around you.

Half the hammocks were empty, the rest of the men above deck caring for the ship in their own shifts.

You would slit his throat.

It was easier this time, because this time you could picture someone else in his place.

You thought of Hiccup. You thought of what they would do to you, once they found out. You thought of the building pit on your stomach, the clawing, desperate scream you wanted to let out and that you didn’t, and the part of you that didn’t quite feel like yourself as you stared down malignantly at the mass below you.

If this was how you were going to die, you did not forgive him.

There was no silence down in the hull, not for long, stale air filled with the angry, mournful, tragic, sulfurous breathing of dragons.

You curled in your cell, a square wooden thing with open, vertical bars caging you in at one end of the room. The rest it was filled with the violent sound of clanging metal and the hissing of beasts, a steady mix between a barely contained violence and mournful quiet.

Your hair was matted and clothes dirtied, your body pressed up against the cold ship walls as cages filled besides you.

Your face was overshadowed by your unlit cell, all the nicer amenities including fire spent on places where the non-prisoner folk roamed.

The wood felt like ice through your boots.

Your stomach complained silently to you, burning a hole through your torso only you could feel.

You heard the rabble of the crew above in the silence between words, rushed feet stomping viciously against the wood floors as their muffled shouting and the clash of metal on metal filled your ears. You’d spent so long out at sea that you’d lost track of time.

You wondered if a dragon above had broken loose. You hoped it did and killed them all. You knew it was a lost cause.

You watched a dark brownish gray set of boots across the way, shifting against charred wood, clenching your fists and digging dry, blood-caked fingernails into cut palms.

You listened to the rattling of chains below, the heavy breathing of dragons coming together to make one loud synchronized voice. At times it made you feel as if the very wood of the ship was expanding and contracting with it.

It couldn’t have been any more than a week, maybe two.

Your arms were braced at either side of you, your back pressed up to the corner of your small, dank cell as the rocking of the ship became more intense.

You glowered at the stockily-built trapper in front of you, as if he might dissolve if you put enough malice into it.

You hated Eret, Son of Eret, who stood with bravado between two stark cages containing a pair of chained and muzzled dragons. A Nightmare, like the many lining the edges of this packed room you were stuck in, and a Scauldron.

He glared back, arms crossed over tans furs, a plaintive grimace marring his stone features as the rabble from above grew more intense.

“You cost us dragons.” He said, finally, his voice heavy with malice.

“You’re hunting them back,” You croaked, voice bordering a hiss just as sharp and jagged as the rest of the monsters around you. Because your life was ruined and you were trapped, lumped in with the mongrels, the violent souls the unknowing Riders failed to save.

“You have to tell me,” He quieted down, speaking with controlled, exaggerated breaths.

The stomping from above grew just loud enough to finally draw his attention, breaking his facade for only just a moment. He shot a glance up the narrow stairwell towards the deck, then glanced back.

He was still incensed from your earlier argument. He wasn’t the rageful type, but you found that you had quite the penchant for making him mad.

“No,” It was so cold. You pushed down a wave of irritation, hugging your arms irritatedly in an effort to quell your shivers, and the chattering of your teeth.

The two of you stared at each other in silence as the ship rocked violently, men storming around above. You were at a verbal impasse.

“Either way, I’m trapped.” You broke it. You felt sometimes as if you were still in shock, because you felt no such thing, though you’d never heard of a shock lasting so long.

“I can’t help you, then.” Eret looked down on you, waving his hands angrily before dropping them onto his thighs.

“You were never goi-” You started, as the trapdoor covering the top of the stairs leading down burst open.

Slowly, steadily a large, scruffed man made his way down, each step dropping heavily against steep wooden staircases, taller than they were wide.

He was one of the thicker men, with a large reddish brown bear that was now stained ever darker by the blood running down his temple. He hunched in on himself, arm on his side, exchanging a meaningful look with Eret who faced him fully.

“The- the masked- The dragons,” The man groaned angrily, blood dripping down from a large cut on the top of his head, just as a scream rang out from above.

“It’s- This early?” Eret’s head flipped towards you and back. He decided quickly that it was time for him to go, though his eyes promised that this wouldn’t be the end of it. You weren’t surprised. There never was an end.

He didn’t wait for an answer, moving forwards, face exposing his astonishment and determination, running up the stairs to the top, forcing the other man to stumble up with him.

You remembered the way flesh felt on the other end of your knife, living, breathing and human. It terrified you just as you cursed the lot of them with it.

You watched him go unblinkingly, listening to the happenings from above with apathy. Once again, you entertained the mild pipe dream that come what may, they would all be dead by the morning.

Your hands shook with grief.

The trapdoor fell to the ground with the loud, hollow slam of wood on wood, just as Eret’s foot disappeared up the hatch.

You listened to the dripping water, the sound of stomping as it traveled through the wood from directly above, the rustling of leathery skin and the storming water outside to your back.

You listened to the sound of buzzing in your ears, closed your eyes as they unfocused and immersed yourself in the sounds of fighting as the clash and the thump of fist against metal and metal against bone became obvious.

You ignored the splinters digging into your palms -a few out of many- and the blisters that grew there like fungi, a result of your constant grip on the hard surface and the friction brought on by the rough seas.

The rumbling of dragons grew louder as something hummed through the wood above, the sluggish, lazy, weighted sounds of leather dropping softly onto the deck and the delicate scratching of claws kindly resting against flooring, tapping against the metal detailing of the even larger, covered trapdoor that allowed the trappers to settle dragons into their prisons.

You listened to loud shouts demanding recompense, then even louder, panicked shouting to move.

It was like listening to the world’s worst shanty, all of that mindless noise come to a violent and discordant crescendo.

Your face burned angrily.

One of the dragons must’ve escaped.

You sighed with bitterness, jealousy heating up your breath, causing you to expel air much like a dragon expelled fire.

You tensed your arms, released your nails from your palms and shook out your shoulder, anticipation and dread building in your gut.

The room grew hotter with such sudden ferocity that you were caught off guard, unaware until you yourself were nearly baking in it, the sudden onslaught of heat causing the dragons below to rear up, to grumble and crackle zealously as sweat boiled against your temples.

You searched for the source, eyes jumping erratically from side to side.

The wood above you blackened, your eyes focusing on it with immediate clarity. It was the sound of your breath, louder to your ears than any other, that had covered the breath of another.

You startled as the metal embedded into your roof began to glow, simmering a bright, passionate orange before distorting, melting onto the wooden floor just outside your cell.

You listened to the crackling hiss of fire, with the dying hope that it was the Riders, come after you, finally, but you knew that wasn’t their modus operandi.

A hot jet of fire ripped through the wood floor with sudden ferocity, wood frames snapping viciously as it burst through to your floor.

You tried to jump back, forgetting that you were already pressed flushed to the corner of your cell.

It brought your skin to unbearable degrees, infusing the air with smoke and ash and filling every one of your nerves with the urge to writhe away.

You blinked away the smoke with shaky, waving hands and stinging, watery eyes.

You shook, squinting up towards the misty deck from where you were crumpled.

You could vaguely make out that a hole had been burnt into the roof of the small jail, melting through varnish and fireproofing, a new dragon half-crawling through it, slitted eyes taking in your surroundings with vigorous abandon.

Your breath caught. And a dragon, with a great, large crown of thick red spines and a flat, viciously-toothed face. It glared down into the hole with slitted eyes and you pressed yourself back, praying it had not yet seen you.

It brought you back to your days on Berk before the peace, where everything you knew was ravaged and you could do nothing but hide and wait, ignorant to the flashing world around you, except instead of your world being awash with a series of bright reds and the screams and shouts of Vikings in fiery battle, it was silent.

This one was a world marked by muffled shouting and pounding of flesh on wood and something much less forgiving. The sounds of battle were not as loud as they should have been, too many a distant shout cut off suddenly and without abandon, always by the root.

You weren’t sure what was more frightening; Hearing the rest of the crew crumple and fail or being left to the silence, knowing deep down that you were next.

The catch and release of a bola reverberated over the emptiness, a deep hollow flinging sound filling your ears before fading off into the distance. A disgruntled scream, one made by the beast, came much too late, leaving its mouth only after it had tumbled off and writhed out of view.

As it fell, it revealed something, someone…. And for a moment, you had hope.

Overshadowed in your cell, you peered outwards.

They work a mask, their face covered by a heavily spined wooden slab, their body wrapped tightly in leather. They stood with their shoulders braced, stance confident and body lithe.

You couldn’t make out much detail- The whole thing rendered them rather mysterious, but it was someone.

You didn’t know there were any Riders besides the ones on Berk. You weren’t sure if they were a Rider.

You kept your head down, pushed up into the corner of your cage, deliberating over whether or not you should move. You knew if you didn’t, it would be your doom. You didn’t know if you could break the trance you found yourself in.

They peered into the hole, before a sharp, ragged dragon call drew them away, lean legs bringing them quickly out of view and rendering them invisible in the mist.

You shivered and you waited.

And waited, counting the seconds in slow motion, listening to your breathing, experiencing every second, watching the way ousted pieces of wood fell to the ground and shifted as the ship moved, watching as small embers shifted and puttered out, as the metal marking the front of your jail slowly, slowly cooled off, leaving a large, neary person-sized hole.

You could run.

Your breathing quickened. You should have spoken up, but…

Now you could run.

You stared at your knife, hilted on a mount just by the staircase.

You stared at the melted metal cage and stumbled to your feet, nearly falling as you made your way over, trying to keep with the rocking of the boat and the dizziness clouding your thoughts and vision.

You stopped in front of it, hands on your knees, before you turned to the side, lifting your leg up ever so carefully and dropping it onto the other side, mindful of the metal that had just cooled itself still.

You felt your foot drop to the other side and you let out a breath of relief before catching it, leaning forwards hard in order to make up for the sudden jolt of the boat, hissing as you grazed the red end of a bar with your arm.

You felt the skin there sting as it threatened to blister. You knew it would, later.

You came out the other end hopping on one foot, falling against one of the cages on the other side, grabbing the handle of the bar, gritting your teeth as hot metal burned your hands and pushing roughly away towards the stairs, nearly landing on your knees.

You looked back at the few dragons who hadn’t managed to escape, trapped and locked down in their cages, pressing close to the far corner.

A Nightmare, chained down but no less ferocious, blew smoke through the small allowance in its muzzle.

It glared at you rebelliously just as you had Eret a while prior. Condemning, knowing.

You wondered if you had a right to free it, if you were just as bad as the ones who strapped it down, cut the points of its claws to nubs, let it burn itself to near death as the others laughed and jeered.

You couldn’t help but to reel back at the look in its eye, briefly imposed by the image of another.

You wondered if setting it free might give you brownie points with your masked hero. If they were here to play hero, that was.

You had a choice to make.

You slipped between the cages.

You were much slimmer than most of the trappers on board. Slim enough to slip to the other side and grab ahold of one of the huge locks keeping another set of dragons trapped.

They were built to be hardy, enough to keep the dragons locked in, but delicate enough for a person to undo on their own.

You wedged your knife into the lock, messing with the latch and cylinder until you heard that telltale loud release-click. You had become very familiar with that particular sound over the past few weeks.

You slipped to the side, fabric of your furs getting trapped on a sharp untrimmed end of the cage as a pillar of fire burst past, blowing a hole into the next cage over.

You pushed open the cage door, though not before the dragons had freed themselves, running from the hole and slithering up towards the top.

You weren’t sure if you could muster anything besides bitterness for them.

You scowled, shaking your head and scanning the empty room, “Beasts.”

You decided to move, running up fast before crashing up through the trapdoor, causing whatever freed dragons there were to jump away, your arms shaking as you ran across the deck, both invisible and vulnerable in equal measure.

Through the misty fog, you spotted the masked person in the middle of a fierce confrontation against two large men, which they ended by knocking one of them into the other and allowing their dragon, who had since recovered from the bola, to throw them offboard.

You hid around one of the crates, eyes darting around erratically, looking for a way off the ship, smelling something like freedom.

You ran and ran, hoping to maybe find a dragon to hitch a ride off, or at least a raft which you could use to continue to float aimlessly across the sea until you either found land or drowned. You failed on all accounts.

Finally, you reached the edge of the ship, skidding to a stop, heart pounding as you then made eye contact with a figure standing tall at the bow, the same person as before, one food on the side of the ship, the other planted firmly on the ship’s deck and they stood tall above you.

You had pushed open the cages, freed the dragons. You had helped.

“Take me with you,” You pleaded, glancing back at the freed dragons back in the mist, fighting off trappers and making off for more open skies.

You couldn’t tell anything about them besides their eyes, green and hard, the rest of their features hidden behind leather and rags. You thought you might look pathetic the way you were then in your worn, holed furs, torn to the thinness of rags.

Eerily, it reminded you of the moment you spent dangling off the edge of a cliff, looking into the eyes of someone with a very much similar build.

You wondered if they knew how a moment so inconsequential, a moment so small, could become so holy to you. It was your poetry. It was your Pantheon.

You stared at them, stuck in a moment of hesitation, which caused hope to well up like blood cut from your still beating heart. You pleaded with your eyes, shoulders, body language, let the knife in your hand loose.

You imagined their face -whatever lay under that mask- and Hiccup’s, moving in the same way, though you prayed the outcome would not end up the same.

There was a time when you would have rather been in Hel alone than in Valhalla without him.

Eventually, after a long moment of silence and clear deliberation, the masked warrior shook their head ‘no.’

They turned, hooked staff shivering, bone parts wrapped to the staff with twine rattling, conveying a command you could not decipher in full.

The dragon got ready to take off. You tried to grab on to their coattails, the fins of their dragon, anything at all as they left, but you were too late.

You choked back a sob as you fell back down hard against the deck, your surroundings misty, separated by a curtain from the rest of the world, listening to the steady approach of footsteps from behind.

You bared your teeth, knife at the ready, and swung.

You felt the blade drag and you were certain that you’d caught someone in the eye, you were sure of it- It must have been at least somewhere under the brow.

After which, you were quickly kicked to the hard ship’s floor, your insides immediately on fire.

Sopping wet and screaming, you struggled against the men who worked to hold you down.

Your eyelids fluttered as you struggled to stay awake, back in the hull, crusted blood marking a worn trail down your forehead.

You hoped he went blind.

You had your knife still, which you clutched close to your middle at all times. You were sure they could wrench it from your hands if they really wanted.

Maybe it was pity that kept them from taking it from you or the fact that they remembered how difficult it was to get you here in the first place, lashing out like an animal, kicking and clawing as they threw you back into the cage. Maybe it was because they hadn’t scant time nor regard for anything else but their eager need to nurse their own wounds. It meant very little, trapped back in the hull as you were.

You lived that moment over and over in your mind, how you carried the burden of guilt on your shoulders, you wanted to beg and plead like you were kneeled before the altar of a broken God. How you were ready to repent, and in that moment the smoke smelt like nothing more than forgiveness. How at that time, you weren’t the one holding the knife.

That time, you were the beast at the sharp end of a masked figure’s staff. You were the one who begged and pleaded and writhed.

You thought of how even before the mask figure could move, you knew the answer they would give, just as you knew the way flesh felt under knife.

As a soft soul, you’d vowed albeit unconsciously to never draw a lick of blood.

Even the Vikings on Berk held honor, none willing to take a slave, none willing to turn away an unwillful hand, none dishonorable enough to slay a man, none cowardly enough not to own up to it.

You stared at the slowly shifting body of a small terror, chained and beaten and scarred so bad it could barely move, laid still and sad in its own waste.

It had driven you mad, its constant whining and hacking filling the hours you should have spent sleeping with strife and restless shifting. Your neck ached from the hard floor even now, and you’d not a moment of respite to show for it.

You weren’t the dragon with the large yellow eyes. You weren’t the trapper, fallen to the knife.

You hated it; just as it was bound, so were you. You seemed to reflect each other, two sides of the same coin, neither the wielder, both the bearers of the sharp end of the knife, slaves to a much crueler fate.

It was a mockery.

And as a child, you’d kept a bird, wings torn and chest kicked in, picked up from the road and stowed away in a wooden box filled with hay. You had been too young to recognize that it had been long since past the point of no return and so you took to it with the passion of a child bound to be disappointed.

You watched it all night by the fire as its chest rose and fell gently, alone.

You fell asleep to an empty hearth and woke to a cold, still body.

When your friend, a small Hiccup, had come to you with his own bird and had shown it to you, cradled and swaddled with all the fine cloth the son of a Chief could afford, you listened to his stories.

You watched with a bitten tongue and a held breath as he cared for it, wrought with a sympathy and a grief you’d never voice. You hadn’t anything but sadness, then, and, in a way, a measure of happiness. You were happy for his success yet bitter that he had found it where you had not, bitter at the fact that his hands healed when yours couldn’t.

You had wondered for so many nights what you had done wrong.

You thought that made him greater.

You imagined his bird, dead, small and fluffy and smushed, run over by the wheel of a wagon.

You imagined it had perhaps been begging for scraps yet had only found the hard hearts and shoulders of Vikings in return, the un-sympathies of Vikings who had better things to do than entertain the whims of a child, unfamiliar to the cold world, the only life it had known being wrapped warm as a fire and soft as fur.

You dreamed of the day it would be lost to the cruel grip of nature.

You glared at the man before you.

You wanted to tell him to shovel his eyes out, to cut open his chest, to suffocate on his own spit and blood. You held your tongue.

Was there something cruel in that, too-? Leaving something so weak and frail to live when it begged for nothing but reprieve? To leave it breathing, choking on its own spit and filth, driving you mad with such anguish and irritation and then rage, until you had wanted nothing more than to have seen it tossed overboard?

Was that what everyone else had seen, back on that wretched island, when they looked at you with those eyes and blocked you off with sturdy shoulders, filled with unease and love and companionship, laid just outside your reach?

Eret grit his jaw.

You blinked away the heavy weights of sleep and though you had the urge, you did not rub your lids. Instead, you laid still, turned away from the entrance. The light.

It smelt terribly.

As the hold once again filled with dragons, they kept to the far side of their cages, away from the small terror- the lizard, that was slowly but surely beginning to rot, torn apart by the desperate, fearful midnight scrabblings of a rat, starving just as you were, but freer than anything above or below deck.

By the sound of it, you knew exactly who’d come.

Eret wasn’t your only visitor. No, you got others. This one, he sounded like one of the kinder ones, the one who brought you your meals. Who kept you from starving. The others, they visited with nothing but sharp, metal-toed boots and fists burning with all the rage of a man trapped, ready and willing to rip and tear.

You were under no illusion that he had done it of his own free will, and yet he carried a sort of hope during the exchanges you shared, the passing of food between the bars and into your small jail, waiting as you turned your back, sighing with loaded emotion and moving with heavy steps.

You were a worthy outlet.

You kept your breathing slow and shallow, rocking with the rest of the boat, rain and water pounding against wood as the ship was tossed around. It would soon get too violent for you to stay still, violent enough to make you sick.

He probably had a family back home. A wife and a child. Or a brother, maybe; a family, something to hold him in the delusion that what he was doing was right, that motivated him to try and rise above the others, that allowed him the belief he had the right to turn the other cheek as both dragons and Vikings alike were beaten and bruised and tortured by his hand. That he wasn’t nor would ever be as bad as the rest of them, which, in your eyes, ultimately made him worse.

It made him selfish, more than anyone else on this vessel, who took and beat and robbed as they pleased.

He had a very unique helmet, one most of the others on this ship did not; something that covered most of his face the same way Dagur’s helmet did, with horns curly enough to match any Jorgenson.

“It’s not like you have a due date, do you?” You coughed viciously, teeth violently catching on the tip of your tongue, causing you to wince.

“How we operate is no business of yours,” Eret grit his jaw, arms crossed, legs crossed as he leaned back. A line of sweat ran down the side of his face.

“You won’t be able to keep this expedition going forever,” You mumbled, voice raspier than ever before, “You need my help.”

“Tell me what you know.”

You laughed at him mockingly, though your stomach sank.

Maybe it was boredom, maybe it was desperation. Maybe you were tired of listening to the crew members above deck, maybe you had a death wish.

You gave in.

You started small.

“Rub it under the chin,” You looked up at him, a sharp, tense grimace on your face, “The spot where the jawbone turns to soft meat, scratch it with your fingernails.”

“You didn’t come up with that,” Eret glared.

“No, I didn’t,” You rasped. The rough uncured leather hide of your muzzle dug into your jaw, the flesh there searing and surely wet with puss after you’d made a very passionate effort to bite one of the crewmates in another escape attempt.

You didn’t need to say anything fancy; it didn’t take much convincing. It wouldn’t.

It made it very difficult to speak, keeping your jaw nearly stuck in place, “But I know it, and that makes me better than you. Just try it.”

You dared him with your eyes, both embodying the hypnotic gaze of a snake and speaking the vying notes of a charmer.

Would you succumb just as the Terror had, or would you rise above it?

You taunted, “You’re not still behind, are you?”

“We’ve gotten... Farther, with your help,” Eret conceded.

Behind him, a green Thunderdrum struggled, mouth bolted shut by a muzzle made of leather and metal not unlike your own, a set of chains binding its wings in the upwards position.

There were three men on its back and two more on each size, wrestling it down as it struggled, trying and failing to scream.

They had no trouble with all the room they needed to swarm the beast and pin it down, a large pull-down metal door opened to reveal another, larger chamber.

“Is it enough?”

“It has to be.”

“Are you willing to take that risk?” You learned to live with it; the stuffiness, the rattling, the pain, and as the nights grew colder and as the hold filled once again with the scraping and screaming of beasts, you slept sounder.

Eret was silent.

“There's grass,” You started, picking at your fingernails, short and bloody, with your knife, “It grows plentifully deep in the islands on the southern end of the archipelago. It should be around here, wherever we are, too.”

“The dragons like it?” Eret asked stiffly.

Like picking bits and pieces off a corpse, like a scavenger picking over carrion, you took old phrases and sullied comforts and wove them together to make a convincing argument. You tempted and you beckoned.

Hiccup would say it was all about trust. You said the same, once upon a time. But you knew better now.

“Well enough to bow,” You smiled.

“Unshackle me.”

“What if I chained you up and dropped you in with the beasts?” Eret shot back, “Everything you have, I fought for. You’re still alive by my good graces and mine only.”

You were the smaller animal, but the frustration and the raw injustice of it all drove you mad. Once again, you wanted to gouge his eyes out.

You wanted to fight and struggle and scream, but you held off.

You hesitated, and looked away, a tenuous expression kept neural only through sheer force of will, the broiling in your gut and the foul words resting on your tongue making you want to do nothing but spit fire.

He would regret that.

“A Whispering Death,” You croaked, trying to suppress the vicious wrinkle of your nose, something wicked and gleeful writhing in your stomach, “Pull it’s top spine, press just under the point, really dig your fingers in.”

“Where are we now?” You asked.

“Someone is dead,” Eret ground out, fists shaking, “A man is dead because of you.”

He threw something on the floor, which clattered loudly in front of your dim cage.

A helmet. You recognized it.

“And?” You let out a short laugh.

“And? And?!”

“Let me out.”

“You don’t deserve that,” He spat.

“Don’t I?” The irony of it all was not lost on you. And so you laughed again, but much louder this time, with force enough to make your clutch at your stomach, to pull taut your loosening muzzle.

You felt at your wrists, newly freed, and shook out your legs, donning a new pair of boots. Your clothing was still torn, ragged, stained, though you were certain you would be able to fix that soon.

You wore a helmet, weighty but fitting on your head, long and covering, secure, with large curly horns. It was patched and in parts covered in blood, thick and dried and congealing where there were dents.

You knew now that what you once called kindness had just been a veil, a sweet lie to cover what everyone else already knew.

You were a cruel, evil person.

A liar, to hold things with delicate hands and whisper hopeful words when there was only one result, to follow teachings and old sayings that would never work for you again. And the sweetest lie was the one you had told yourself for so many years, the one that kept you from the truth and told you that you weren’t.

There was no forgiveness here. Not for you.

Only condemnation.

You stretched your mouth open wide, worked your jaw where your muzzle had left a heavy mark, ignoring the desperate scrabbling and screeching of a dragon and the men behind you pulling, dragging it with fist and chain across splintered wood into a new cage.

You breathed in the fresh sea air, taking in the light of day for the first time in a long while.

And you reveled in it.

#httyd #how to train your dragon #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #httyd imagine #fem reader #female reader #villain reader

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