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noritoshiikamo · 3 years

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worth my time

pairing: noritoshi kamo + fem!oc genre: porn (is fingering enough to call it porn??) without plot ish??? tags//warning: established relationship // slight smut???, fingering, emotional drained reader, reader dated character but then forced into arranged marriage and doubt the whole rs note: unedited, lowercase intended, just me and my nori brainrot dont mind the plotholes and everythingn, its not accurate according to the manga/anime like i just wanna feed myself and i haven't write in ages pls sent some ideas so i can get my lazy brain going, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it directory: read the first part | second part | third part | bonus

“how long have you known?”

noritoshi shrugged, bringing the cup of tea to his lips. the way he took time to answer her question drove her mad. “noritoshi, how long?” her voice strained. “would it make any difference if i’d known today or 10 years ago?”

her eyes shot wide opened, “10 fucking years?”

a small smile appeared on his lips as he lowered the cup, “hypothetically.” she grabbed one of the pillows from the pile on the bed and threw it to his face, embedded with what little left of her jujutsu power. they have been going on for hours and she was clearly too stubborn to let it go. it was clearly weak; he dodged it with a flick of his wrist switching the pillow’s trajectory. “you’re a fucking asshole,” she gritted through her teeth, falling on bed as wave of anger and sadness crashed through. “you think i wanted an arranged marriage? you think i like having every aspect of my life set since i was a child and scrutinized? i’m a bastard sitting on a throne. unlike you gojou clan, i had it much worst.”

she pulled her hair, fighting the tears that was already streaming down, “it’s not a competition. we are in the same school, i sat next to you for years and you’re telling me you have no idea that i’m your future wife, bullshit!” her eyes flickered as she threw the next close thing within her power’s vicinity; a vase. something hit the vase midway, breaking it into ashes and she watched as a drop of blood stained the floor. he broke it with his power. “you can throw every single thing in this room, y/n, but it doesn’t stop the fact that we are already married.” it was that one sentence that completely broke her. falling on her knees, she let a cry out, clutching on her chest as she cried to her heart’s content. this can’t be happening to me, no, no, no, her mind echoed as she forced herself to surrender to the fact that they are married. it’s not something easy to undo. it pained him to see her like this, but his wife needs to understand that he could do nothing about it. she cried for what seems to be like hours, the sleeves of her yukata wet from the tears and sweat. she fell on the floor to her knees, resting her body against the bed before finally looking up to meet her husband’s eyes. he could see defeat in her tired eyes. “we dated each other,” she sniffled, “was that real or was it just you scouting for your future wife?” her words sound like venom to him “i know you won’t believe me, but it was real. i would still marry you even if the marriage isn’t arranged.” noritoshi stood up, his barefoot echoed on the floor as he walked to his weakened wife. her body was hot, he suspected the skipping (refusing to eat) meals, raging and throwing tantrums after another had put her body in so much stress. he reached for the sash, trying to undo her yukata and she freaked out. grabbing his wrist, she shook her head, “what are you doing?” she asked shakily. “would you listen to me for once? you need a cold shower, you’re burning up, it would help.” she stopped fighting. his tone was a mixed of annoyance and tired. dating him made her realized that noritoshi has a high level of patience; but not right now. letting go of his wrist, she slipped the yukata off her shoulder herself, whined about how she disliked cold shower below her breath. he wore a small smile as he hoisted the naked girl up. it’s a small victory on noritoshi the husband, he’ll savor it for now.

the girl kneeled on the floor of the shower as noritoshi slowly ran the shower head slowly up her body. her arms wrapped tightly against her chest; she cursed every time the cold water reached new part of her body. ignoring the fact that his yukata was getting wetter, he kneeled behind her and let her rest her back against his chest. with the shower gel, his body froze every time she whined at his touch. something about the way she whined under his touches made him weak. he wants to kiss her stupid face so badly. “it’s cold,” she mumbled, her eyes closed as he ran his palm against her stomach. he pressed a kiss on the side of her face, “better?” he asked as his hand travelled lower. her eyes widened. he continued his kisses, down her jawline and her neck, bruising every spot as his fingers traced a lazy circle on her clit. she moaned out a throaty yes. he continued to whisper sweet nothings into her ears, promises of how he would take care of her, how he’s going to be a perfect husband, how she would be a perfect wife, how they’ll live happily together. she nodded her head in delirium, the pleasure of his fingers had her grinding her back on his crotch and emptying her thoughts. she could barely think straight. “tell me you’re mine,” he commanded, slipping a finger inside, “i can take care of you, baby,” her eyes rolled back, his words were not helping, it was just pure gasoline thrown into a burning fire. “nori, i want to cum,” she muttered, clutching desperate on the now two fingers. she felt his warm breath on the crook where her shoulder meet her neck, his fangs brushing threateningly against the sensitive skin. “open your mouth,” he urged, she whined at the lost feeling of his lips on her neck. she felt something dripping between her lips, his thumb brushing the lower lip. it painted her lips red. it tasted metallic, almost like a blood. it was his. he watched in satisfaction as his blood marking appeared on her right eye. he can control her blood, heightened her senses, throwing her body’s sensitivity off the wall, driving her off the edge with every spot of her body he touches; it sends pleasure twice as much. it wasn’t long until her velvety wall spasmed around his fingers. her body jolted forward; her shaky hands pressed against the wet tile preventing her from falling face first as orgasm washes out. she could barely make any noises, her throat was so dry, she felt like it might bleed. she won’t deny that the orgasm eased her pain, but she would deny if he dared brought it up; he would not get the pleasure of knowing she enjoyed that.

his palm brushed against her thigh, causing her to look up. he raised his eyebrows in question which she brushed it off with a nod. she grabbed his hand and steadied herself up.

“i’m okay,” she voiced out.

he undressed, continued their shower from square one. they’ve done this before; sharing shower after mission washing blood off each other but this time, it feels different. she sighed at the pleasure, letting her hands rest against his toned chest. we are married, the sentence echoed in her mind as he massaged the shampoo on her head. never ever she thought that this is how she’ll be married. it’s not like she dreamed of a huge wedding. he did throw a small gathering, respecting her boundaries and her anxiety but everything just moved so fast. her parents are dead, her only remaining family is satoru, a distant cousin who finds it a no issue for her to marry her boyfriend. it is not an issue for her to marry noritoshi kamo, she loves him so much, but not like this. she wished she had more choices in this. he hummed a song, a habit of his that he caught from his mother, a lullaby his mother always sings. she wanted to hate him so much, for befriending her, making her fall in love with him and then forced her into a marriage. but when she opened her eyes and stared up into his, to see such loving look in his eyes, it weakened her. her heart is a wreck. “why do you do this to me?” she whimpered, slamming her fist into his chest. he refused to answer.

she was tired of his silence.

he turned the shower off, opening the glass door letting waft of cold air out. he left to fetch her towel and she stalked toward the nearby mirror. “how long until the thing wears off?” she asked when she caught a glimpse of herself. she reached to touch the blood marking on her eyes. he wrapped the towel around her body, hugging her from behind and through the foggy mirror, he brushed his thumb on her cheek, whispered something she couldn’t catch as the mark subsided.

“this doesn’t change the fact that i’m mad at you.”

he laughed it off, “i didn’t say it does. you always feel better post orgasm, you know how i know it?” he kissed her temple, eyes burned into hers, “because i dated you.”

her teeth gritted in annoyance.

“you think if i dated you to scout my future wife, i wouldn’t waste my time learning how your body responds to me, the way you yearn for me,” a kiss fell on her neck, “learn how well you control your shikigami and goes through lengths to teach you how to use my bow,” another kiss went up her jaw, “teach you my own blood techniques because god, why jujutsu needs to be such an exclusive thing,” arms went around her waist, “worried sick every single time utahime send you off for a mission, taking care of your wounds, being there to catch your reckless ass,” his breath lingered on her ears, “completely falling in love with you wholeheartedly for 3 years. i’d abandoned my father’s choice. you are arranged to be my wife, on my own accord. i choose you. you weren’t my father’s choice, but even in million years, even if sukuna’s vessel reincarnated again and again, even if the world split open and sent you miles away, even if i’m not the head of kamo clan,” his hand grabbed her chin, hard and forced her to meet his eyes, his words send shivers down her spine, “i would still choose you.”

she’s completely putty in his hand. she let out a soft whine as his body abandoned her, his warmth gone and came the cold biting her bare skin. her eyes followed the back of the man as he stalked to the wardrobe leaving the girl alone to ponder on his words.

“now, wouldn’t it just be a waste of my time, my wife?”

#okay im done loool #noritoshi kamo #kamo noritoshi #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #noritoshi kamo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #idk what tag more lol #noritoshi smut #noritoshi x reader #jjk smut #writing: fics

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toomanyrobins · 3 years

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a little birdie told me pt. 10

Summary: Y/N “Birdie” Parker left New York and her family three years ago in the middle of the night. Now, a call for help to her best friend brings her back into the fold of the Three Families and their “business”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Parker!Reader

Content warning: physical abuse, miscarriage, mentions of forced marriage, mentions of alcohol abuse

Word Count: 1.8k

series masterlist // next part

Y/N was in the kitchen when she heard someone return home. She had been sitting at the kitchen island, staring down at a glass of whiskey. She had poured it to settle her nerves, but had yet to pick it up. Pepper walked in and immediately could tell that something was bothering her daughter. She saw the glass and slowly slid it out of Y/N’s hands, “What’s wrong? I thought last night was a success. Did something happen?” The younger woman nodded and refused to meet Pepper’s eyes. It didn’t take much for the intuitive woman to guess what was ailing her daughter. She nodded, “You finally realized you are in love with Steve.”

“I didn’t mean to be,” Y/N wailed as she slammed her forehead onto the island, “ow.”

“Why is this such a bad thing?”

“Because the last person I was with was a terrible person,” Birdie grumbled, “I had every intention of staying single forever to avoid feeling like shit every again.”

“Honey, that’s insane. Anyone with eyes can see that Steve is disgustingly in love with you and would move mountains to make you happy.”

“It’s just so soon. Too soon.”

“There’s no timeline for this kind of thing. When you know, you know.” Pepper laughed to herself, “The funniest thing is that when I confronted your father about the arranged marriage, he told me that the plan was for you and Steve to get married.”

Y/N shot her head up and nearly toppled off the stool, “What? He picked Steve for me? I—I have to go.”

Y/N was trying to keep her head on straight as she walked into George’s office. The entire drive over, she had tried to calm down and approach this with some levelheadedness. Before she could even sit down across from the desk, that plan was thrown our the window, “I need answers and I don’t think Dad will tell me everything. Why were you going to marry me off to Steve?”

George sighed and leaned forward, “First of all, I’ve told your father that you should’ve been told about all of this. The truth of the matter is that we needed stability in the families and this was a way to bring us together. HYDRA had started gaining power and your marriage was a way to secure some balance and open up channels that had previously been closed off to us. Also, we had seen the two of you together. You got on well. Why the sudden interest?”

“I don’t know if I can stay here. Apparently, everyone has decided I’m Jamie’s mom. No kid deserves to be stuck with me as their mother.”

He leaned back in his chair, “He really did a number on you.”

Y/N felt like the air had been sucked from her lungs but she tried to play dumb, waiting to see how much he knew, “Who?”

“You think I don’t know things, Birdie? I’ve got your medical records from your hospital visit. I know that your hospital visit wasn’t a one time thing. I know about the miscarriage. I may not know his name, but I will soon.”

“Ho—how?

“I'm a Barnes. A third of the group that runs New York. You think I can’t get information?”

“Have you told anyone?” They both knew who Y/N was truly worried about.

“I haven’t told Steve or Tony. You should though. I highly doubt they would be mad at you for anything,” his voice softened, “You were abused, Birdie. Nothing that he did to you is your fault.”

Her nails were digging into her palm, trying to focus on anything else, “I let him kick me in the stomach. I didn’t even try to stop him. What kind of fucked up, evil person does that?”

“You’re not evil. You’re hurting and have been for a while. I don’t think running will solve anything for you. Are you truly capable of leaving Jamie behind? Your family? Can you leave Steve when you love him?”

Y/N looked at her godfather, “I don’t love Steve.”

He laughed, “You used to be better at lying. He has always brought you back down to earth. I thought a match between the two of you would settle you down. Steve even agreed to it, but he stipulated that you had to go to college first and that you had to agree. He couldn’t force it on you.”

Y/N couldn’t believe it. She thought that he had just been hiding the marriage from her. Never had she considered that he knew he was her future husband, “He knew the whole time? Why would he want to marry me?”

“Of course, he knew. God knows why, because you were insane, and still are. He was ready to marry you. Clearly he thought you could make each other happy.”

“He didn’t tell me he knew it was him the whole time. I just thought he knew you were marrying me off.”

“Seems he wanted a chance to romance you all on his own, but you were gone before he got the chance.”

“This is so much information,” Y/N rubbed her temples.

George poured himself a drink, “I was like you for a really long time. I fought with my father every time I saw him, and I spent most of my teens and twenties drunk and alone. It’s a sad, lonely life that you have an opportunity to avoid. Take a chance, make mistakes. It’ll be worth it.”

Y/N sat there for a minute, trying to absorb all of the information that had been thrown at her. The office door burst open and Tony came in, “Good, your mother said you’d be here. I need you to do something.” Y/N’s nerves immediately felt like they were on fire. The moment her father had that look on his face, it was a problem, “There is a deal coming up and we need to present a united front. With the rumours swirling since your return, we’ve discussed and think the best move is for you to marry Steve.”

“Tony—,” George tried to warn him that it wasn’t the time. The whole office was frozen as she absorbed the information.

The laugh that broke the spell was harsh when Y/N realized he wasn’t kidding, “Oh my god. OH MY GOD! That talk about not wasting my life was just a load of crap.” She whirled around to Tony, “You will never learn, will you? I am not some piece of property that you can trade!”

Her father tried to walk closer but she stopped him. He continued anyway, “What is your objection to Steve, exactly? He’s a good man...mostly. We thought he'd be a good match for you three years ago and you are even closer now.”

Y/N started to walk towards the door but she turned, “I knew about your plans for me then. It’s part of the reason I left. You move people around like pawns and don’t seem to know or care that your choices affect us. All I’ve ever wanted is a say in my life and every fucking time I think maybe it’ll be different, you manage to prove me wrong. So congratulations, you continue to fuck it up.” She stared unblinkingly at Tony, “I think it goes without saying that I’ll be taking you up on your offer.”

Y/N walked down into the Ivory bar on a mission. She found her brother in his usual booth with the group. She marched up to the table, “Evening, gentlemen.” They all nodded at her before she turned her attention to Steve. She planted her hands on the table, “Look here, Rogers, you can just move on to the next girl and stop wasting my time and yours. Do me a favor and lose my number. I’ll never marry you.”

She didn’t look back as the men watched her through the window. She swung her leg over her bike and shot off. No one said a word and instead turned to look at Tony and George who had come down after her.

After she had left, Y/N pulled off near Central Park and parked. She wandered for hours until she bumped into someone. She had felt the weight of someone’s gaze for a while. Spinning around, she expected to see a familiar guard and was ready to tell them off. Instead of one of Tony’s men, it was the person who haunted her nightmares. “Better watch where you’re going, darling.” The voice made her blood run cold. Y/N was looking into the eyes of Brock Rumlow, the devil himself.

She stumbled back, trying to put some distance between them, “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. You think I’d just let you leave?” Brock grabbed her arm and jammed a finger into her stomach, “You’ve got my kid in there.”

She laughed in his face, “No, I don’t.” He gritted his teeth and tightened his on her arm. Y/N knew that she was going to have bruises later.

“You killed our baby?” she shook her head, but Brock was blinded by rage. He shook her, “Don’t lie to me, you traitorous whore.”

“You beat me so badly that night that I lost the baby. There is no one to blame but you. And now, you have no claim over me.” Y/N wrenched her arm away, “You lose.”

“That’s where you are wrong, darling. What would Daddy Stark think of you running away to be with me? A member of HYDRA? Would they keep you if they knew the truth? You really would be a traitorous whore in everyone’s eyes.”

Y/N thought she was going to be sick. Brock was a member of HYDRA? She couldn’t believe she hadn’t known. This was so much worse than she could have imagined. “Stay away from me.” She turned and walked away.

He called after her, “I’ll be seeing you, baby!” The moment she rounded the corner, she took off in a run. Y/N’s thoughts flying as fast as she was down the streets. Once she was a block away, she cut off into an alley. She needed a moment to get her plan organized. As much as it pained her to admit it, Brock was probably right. If everyone knew the details about his connection to HYDRA, at minimum, she’d be exiled and never be able to see her family again. At worse, she’d be dead… a traitor to the Three Families. Y/N knew that there was only one thing she could do to make her position more secure and she hated it more than anything: she needed to marry Steve Rogers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@samwinter09

@founding-fuck-bois

@animegirlgeeky

@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters

@spntiel

@marvelofwitch

@hollandstanevans

#avengers au #avengers imagine #toomanyrobins #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #mafia au #mafia!avengers #mafia!steve #mob!au #mob!avengers #mob!steve #steve rogers #steve rogers au #avengers #captain america #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #mafia!steve rogers

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lillywillow · 3 years

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Curses!

Summary: You have been having the worst week of your life. Sam tries to help you.

Word Count: 1265

Square Filled: “Need a medic?”

Pairings: Sam Wilson x Reader

Warnings: A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

You had never been the type to believe in superstitions. Often you had shrugged it off as a joke or coincidence when bad things happened. This week, however, has you thinking differently.

...

It started on Monday. Like any other morning, you poured your cereal into your bowl only to find out someone had eaten it, leaving just a few crumbs behind. To add insult to injury, the milk had been left in the fridge so long, it was now pretty much cottage cheese. You had tried searching for something else for breakfast but nobody in the tower had bothered going shopping for groceries. Now thoroughly annoyed, you decided to skip breakfast altogether.

And that was only the beginning of the week.

The rest of the week was a series of accidents and unfortunate incidents. At lunch one day, you somehow managed to bite your hand eating a sandwich. On a minor mission, an insect flew down the collar of your shirt and stung your back in a place you couldn’t reach. Someone ate the last of your leftovers that you were really looking forward to at the end of the day. One time drinking hot coffee, you tipped the beverage down your front. A chair broke as you sat on it. You even choked while drinking water.

The hits.

Just.

Continued.

Coming.

The final straw happened on Thursday. You were walking into the living room when you kicked your little toe hard against the doorway. Letting out an unholy screech and a string of swearwords, you fell to the ground clutching your foot.

“Need a medic?” Sam smirked, looking down at you.

“At this point, I think I need an exorcist...”

“Yeah, I noticed. I thought for sure that scream was the demon escaping...”

Unable to hold it in anymore, you burst into tears.

“Hey, hey, hey, now... I was only joking. I’m sorry...” Sam knelt down and pulled you into his arms and rocked softly with you to comfort you.

“It’s not your fault, Sam. This week has just been the worst... Everything has just been going wrong... yesterday I left my door open, Alpine wandered in and peed in my shoe which I didn’t notice until I put it on and... You know I’m not the superstitions type but this week...” You started crying again.

Sam held you close and comforted you until you had settled down. It was times like this you were glad to have such a caring boyfriend.

“Do you want to sit on the couch and watch movies?”

“Y-yeah,” you whimpered.

“Yeah? Okay...” Sam helped you get to the couch, taking care not to touch to injured toe which had already blossomed into a massive bruise.

Sam gently set you down on the couch and put your foot up on the coffee table to keep it elevated. Afterwards, he put the movie on for you, wrapped you up in a blanket and got ice for your damaged appendage. Throughout the movie, Sam fed you snacks and made sure you had something to drink. While you may have been a full grown adult and capable of taking care of yourself (although this week had made you question that last part) it still felt nice to be taken care of. The rest of the day went without incident.

...

The following day, you absolutely refused to come out of your room, lest something else bad happen to you. Sam knocked on your door.

“Come on out, Y/N...”

“No! I’m never coming out again until this stupid week is over!” you whined.

“I made an appointment with a physic...��

“You know I don’t believe in that mumbo jumbo...”

Just then, a shelf on your wall decided it was time to collapse. Taking this as a sign, you opened the door.

“Let’s go see the physic...” you mumbled with all the attitude of a sulking child. Sam grinned and put his arm around you, helping you to walk as you were still limping due to the severity of the hit to your little toe.

...

The place Sam brought you to was something out of a movie. There were glass jars filled with mysterious objects lining the shelves and bundles of dried herbs hanging around. The smell of patchouli filled the air. Crystals of various shapes, sizes and colours sparkled in the light. You were about to walk out when a woman emerged from behind the maroon velvet curtains. She wore a purple bandana on her head, many bangles on her wrists and hoop earrings. The woman certainly fit the stereotype of a physic.

“Welcome to my shop. I am the great Madame Nobunaga. With what can I help you with today?” she spoke in an exotic European accent.

“Sam, this is stupid,” you whispered.

“Do you want to get rid of your bad luck or not?”

You carefully pondered your options before deciding that you did not want to suffer another day with something else going wrong.

“Hi, um... this week, I’ve had some really bad luck and...”

“Ah, yes, yes, my child. I can see your aura is a mess. Come with me in the back room and we shall do a cleansing...”

You gave Sam an unsure look but with his approving nod, you followed Madame Nobunaga into the back where a small table covered by a midnight blue cloth had been set up. You sat on one of the cushions provided.

“Now... let us begin. Close your eyes... breathe in the positivity, breathe out the negativity...”

You closed your eyes and breathed as she told you while she pottered around, muttering and humming.

“You are not focussing. Try to focus on the positive things in your life.”

Positive things. Right. What was positive about your life? Sam. Sam was a big positive. The way he would comfort you, protect you, be there for you no matter what. Yes, Sam was the love of your life. That was a big positive. What else was there? Your friends, you guessed. The way they would make you laugh and support you... and there was Alpine too. Although Bucky’s cat could be a pain in the butt with the way... no, no, no, don’t go there. That was negative. Focus on the positive...

By the end of the session, you were surprisingly feeling a lot more relaxed.

“Would you like to buy a protective charm to keep away the negative energy?” Madame Nobunaga asked.

“Couldn’t hurt,” Sam shrugged.

With a sigh, you purchased the charm to put by your bed (even though you felt like it was a bit of a rip-off), paid the woman for her services and left.

“See? That wasn’t so bad was it?”

“Yeah, well... we’ll see...” you grumbled.

...

Over the next few days, you began to actually began to see improvements. Sam helped you fix your shelf, and nothing that was sitting on it was damaged. Bucky was nice enough to buy you a new pair of shoes to replace the one his cat had soiled. Tony had taken you all out to dinner at a nice restaurant and paid for everyone. Fury had given you and Sam a whole week off together. Things were finally looking up again.

Although you still weren’t sure how real some superstitions were, you would never again doubt the power of luck.

#ssb2021 #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #Curses!#Back luck #Misfortune #Alpine #Marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #marvel fic #Need a medic?

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endof-theline · 3 years

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Day 18- Tropetember: Undercover

Day 18 of super early Tropetember with Undercover! Tony hates going undercover, he's not even a Shield agent for starters, what's worse is when they are just using him as bait.

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32666464

"No, no way, I'm not doing it! I don't even work for Shield, why would I go undercover?" Tony refused as he backed away from Natasha who was standing, leaning on the doorframe with her arms crossed and a bored expression on her face.

"I need someone with your skill set" Natasha shrugged a shoulder simply "Besides our guy has a preference for smaller guys, all of male agents are bigger than you"

"I'm not small!" Tony snapped before Clint snickered behind him, walking to his side and grinning down to the genius who just narrowed his eyes into a look that would have killed Clint if it could.

"Smaller than the agents" Clint pointed out before laughing and ducking out the way of Tony's hands as the smaller tried to slap at him "We all know that you'll give into Tasha, so stop arguing and come back to Shield with us"

"I'm not-" Tony started off again but Natasha just raised an eyebrow at him "Fine, but I'm going to whine the whole time!"

"Deal" Natasha said with a smirk on her face before the three of them were rushing back to Shield, and as promised Tony whined the whole ride over there as Clint laughed and Natasha just ignored the pair with an amused look on her face.

Tony was scowling at Natasha now, his hair was dyed blonde, his face shaven and he had coloured contacts in to make his eyes blue. Clint was too busy laughing at him to be any real help to anyone, and when Steve arrived he just looked stunned.

"You look like his mini-me" Clint howled with laughter as his eyes went between the pair, Tony just groaned and shook his head as he pushed away Natasha's hand.

"What-? Why-?" Steve stammered cluelessly before swallowing thickly "What have you done to him?"

"Gee thanks Steve, nothing like boosting my confidence" Tony snarked, he hated Natasha messing around with how he looked and he batted her hands away at every chance when she tried to fix his collar or his hair. It reminded him too much of being a child, his mother constantly fussing him around and fixing his appearance at galas or anything else he was forced to attend as a child.

"That's not what I meant" Steve quickly refused as he held up his hands in defense "You just look so different, not bad… Just really different"

Tony looked away and shrugged shyly before Natasha tipped his head up and smiled at him "Ready to go over the mission one last time?"

"As I'll ever be" Tony mumbled grumpily before Natasha opened the file on the table and jabbed at Tony's target's picture.

Tony nursed the bright pink cocktail, something Clint had told him to order and it was way sweeter than anything Tony would have ordered for himself, and let his eyes scan the club for his target. All he had to do was get the man to follow him outside and to Natasha and Clint who would take over from there, it was easy and he was just being their bait.

"Hello there, gorgeous" a smooth, accented voice purred as a man sat down beside him, the man was big and even though Steve was bigger it still made Tony gulp "What's a pretty thing like you sitting here alone for?"

"My friend's left me alone" Tony pouted and looked up under his lashes at the man, the man who was exactly the person he was looking for "You gonna keep me company?"

"Oh I think I will" He smirked down at Tony, his hand coming up to grab at Tony's jaw to lift his face up "You look like trouble, are you going to be a good boy for me?"

Tony fought hard with the temptation to scrunch up his nose in disgust or rip his jaw out from the man's grasp but instead he smiled sweetly and asked "I can be anything you want, you want me to be a good boy?"

"You are trouble, but I always like my boys with a bit of a spark" The man grinned before Tony gently put his hand on the man's, acting like a reminder of the tight grip before the man let go of him. Tony turned and took a larger drink of the neon pink drink, Clint picked something weird but it was starting to grow on him.

"My name's Antonio, what do I call you?" Tony asked with another smile on his face, a lustful look on his face that easily tricked the man whose eyes darkened.

"My name's Aidan, but you can call me Sir" Aidan growled and Tony's cheeks flushed in response, taking another long drink and humming as he did "Now Antonio, I don't think it's fair how much attention your giving that drink and not to me"

"I'm sorry, sir, but it tastes so good" Tony purred back and batted his eyelashes in a move that Natasha taught him as a joke, but it worked on Aidan as the man grabbed at his waist and hauled Tony onto his lap. Tony let out a real squeak as he grabbed onto Aidan's shirt to make sure he didn't fall off, it had been awhile since Tony had been with a guy and he had forgotten what it was like to feel hard muscle under his hands.

"Let me have a taste then" Aidan murmured before he smashed their lips together, Aidan's hands grabbed at his hips and held on with a bruising grip as Tony still clung to his shirt and tried to find any kind of rhythm and found nothing apart from the possessiveness and dominating bites to his bottom lip that was more painful than anything else "Mh, you're right, baby, it does taste good"

"Take me home, sir, I wanna go home with you" Tony wriggled his hips on Aidan's lap and whined high in his throat when the bigger man smirked at him.

"Begging already, Antonio, you really make the sweetest noises" Aidan's hand wriggled under his top and rested on waist making Tony panic for a moment, not wanting the man's hand to come closer to the Arc Reactor scars.

"If you take me home, I'll show you how sweet I can be" Tony let his hands roam Aidan's chest, subtly forcing his hand down from Tony's waist "I've been told that I sing real sweet too"

“Oh I bet you do” Aidan smile was going to haunt Tony’s nightmares for a while, but for now Tony smiled along before leaning back to grab his glass and down the rest of it’s contents “So eager”

“Why wouldn’t I be, sir?” Tony giggled and Aidan’s slimy smile only grew before he was sliding Tony off his lap and taking his hand, leading him to the door which would lead him straight into Natasha and Clint.

Clint stood a little distance from the door, a lit cigarette in his hands and his face turned away from them although Tony knew that Clint was watching out for him, and although Tony couldn’t spot Natasha he knew she would be on the other side.

“Come, sweet boy, my car’s this way” Aidan cooed at him and gently tugged Tony to walk away from Clint, Tony rolled with the motion and leant into Aidan’s side with a smile on his face “A shame your friends left you all alone, they must not be good friends”

“I guess not” Tony sighed sadly before looking up at him through his lashes again to give him a sweet look “But then I wouldn’t have met you!”

“And neither would I” Tony heard Natasha say before he jerked away from Aidan, getting pushed away by Clint as he jumped in to help Natasha restrain Aidan with practiced ease. Tony yelped when a hand rested on his shoulder, he whipped his head around and relaxed instantly at the sight of Steve.

Steve who was bigger than Aidan, taller and more muscled, but his touch was light and he never grabbed at Tony like Aidan had. Tony heard a crunch and quickly moved to hug Steve, not wanting to see what was going on behind him and knowing that Steve could probably feel the way Tony was shaking.

“I’m taking Tony back, I’ll see you back home” Steve said and waited a beat for Clint to acknowledge his words before keeping Tony under his arm as he walked back to their car, an agent in the driver’s seat as Steve and Tony climbed in the back “Avengers’ Tower, I’m taking Stark back”

The agent just nodded before Steve blacked out the partition and turned off the microphone. That way when Tony finally broke down, no one but Steve was there to see it, no one heard the way Tony cried about how much he hated being near the men he had to target, hated being touched. Steve held his hand through it all and nodded along, the Captain had tried to find anyone but Tony to go undercover for this exact reason.

Steve knew how bad it hurt Tony to do these missions and he knew that it always brought back bad memories for him, that’s why he always tagged along and offered to take Tony home so he could have a safe pair of arms to cry into without fear of being judged for it… not matter what rubbish Howard had drummed into his head.

#tropetember #eotl writes #fanfiction #Tony Stark #Steve Rogers

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petertingle-yipyip · 4 years

Text

Selfish - Peter Parker

Part Three: Good in Goodbye

// Selfish // Stained Glass //

//Tags @josiemara @dylanstilinskiposts @just-a-sad-chicken-nugget-xxx @throughparisallthroughrome @tomhollandssecurityguard @marvel4geeks @yourbiggestspiderfan //

Word Count: 5974

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary: Peter and Y/N have revealed their secrets and tried to talk things out. But in an effort to be honest, it may have gotten worse. Is there hope for this couple or should they find the good in goodbye?

“You got blood on your hands.” Your dad stands over you, Captain America on one side and Black Widow on the other. “How do you plead?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt him.” You say weakly. “I made a mistake. Just-”

“You seem to do a lot of that.” Captain America’s voice bounces through the room.

“Please, I love him. Let me make it right!”

“Doesn’t look like you loved him enough, did you?” Black Widow’s voice offers you a challenge.

“Y/N?” MJ said from your side, shaking you lightly.

You jumped slightly, sitting up quickly from leaning against the table. You looked around, seeing no one left in your class room but you, MJ, and your teacher. You sighed slightly, wiping your face and trying to clear your head of your latest dream. You gathered your school supplies and noted that you hadn’t written anything on your papers.

“I slept the whole class period, didn’t I?” You asked regretfully as you and MJ left the room, waving a goodbye to your teacher.

“Mhmm.” She nodded simply. “I’ll send you my notes later.”

“Thanks.” You muttered, pulling out your phone to see nothing from Peter.

“Wanna tell me what happened last night?” MJ offered as you two headed to the main door. “You look terrible.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” You shrugged.

“Does that have any correlation to Peter not being here today?”

“Probably, I don’t know.” You mumbled, turning away from your normal walk home.

“Where are you going? Your apartment is this way.”

“I’m going to my dad’s.” You replied, stopping to turn and face your friend. “I can’t be home, not right now. I could barely stomach to be in my own room last night. I stayed on my fire escape all night because I just couldn’t take it. It’s just all bitter, no sweet.”

“So you two broke up then?”

“We’re not on speaking terms.”

“You broke up.”

“No, I don’t think so… Just not talking right now.”

“Well, what happened?”

“I made a mistake.” You answered carefully. “And I’m having a problem trying to make things right. Last night, I probably made things worse.”

“What are you going to do about Liz’s party this weekend?”

“Not go?” You shrugged with a nervous laugh. “I don’t know, MJ. Right now, I’m just trying to get through the day. And I had a fight with my mom last night about getting in trouble over the Flash thing so I’m really not in the mood for anything today. Sorry.”

“I get it.” She nodded slightly. “Just- Don’t beat yourself up too much, alright? Peter’s just an idiot. You two will figure it out.”

“Thanks, MJ… I’ll text you later.”

You rode in silence through the city to your dad’s tower. You showed the badge Tony had sent to your apartment, security ushering you in easily. You conversated with the head of security after he introduced himself. He said his name was Happy, and that he had known your dad for a long time. Happy took you to the floor where your dad was, saying that Tony’s lab and most of the Avengers were found on that floor.

You wandered around the massive space, soon finding a training room. There was a dumbbell rack against the far wall, a wall lined with full length mirrors. A weight bench was near it, next to a squat rack. There was a row of punching bags, an area on the floor set aside for partnered work. Various pads were piled by the ring, along with pairs of boxing gloves.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” A familiar voice said from behind you as you were kneeling to pick a pair of gloves.

“My mom is working late and I didn’t want to be home. She’s gonna pick me up when she gets off.” You answered, not wanting to turn and face him. You knew if you did, some sort of emotion would take over. But you were scared of which emotion it would be. Desperation? Anger? Fear? Pain? Loneliness?

“Are we okay?” He asked carefully, dropping his bag by the door and coming into the room. You watched his movements through the wall of mirrors, refusing to turn and face him.

That was always the thing with Peter. You two didn’t fight often. The Spiderman feud was probably the only real fight you two had ever had. But you had petty arguments every now and then. And once those arguments got to the silent treatment, one look from him and his big soft puppy dog brown eyes and you were melting back into him.

“There’s so much I want to say… So much I still haven’t said yet.” You replied slowly, picking your words intently. You knew you had to be careful with what you said. You were afraid that you would blow up and lose Peter. “But I’m lost, Peter. Things are different between us, and you can’t tell me it isn’t.”

“Not everything is different.” He offered a small, sincere smile. “I still love you.”

“The worst part about this is that it isn’t affecting you the same way it’s affecting me.” You laughed in disbelief. The words you had been holding in, hiding from everyone around you were bubbling over. The locked up feelings that you couldn’t verbalize were beginning to change into actions. You could feel the familiar twitch in your muscles, begging to release itself as quick and decisive blows. You turned to face Peter, dropping the gloves in your hands.

You let your feet move themselves, guiding your body closer to Peter. It felt like a magnet, pulling you to him. You knew you should’ve stopped. You should’ve planted yourself like a tree and refused to move. But it felt like it’d be right to be close to him, to trap yourself within the painted lines on the floor with him.

You realized you weren’t trying to just be close to Peter. You were closing in on Spiderman, the way you used to slowly stride closer to him before launching an offensive. You wanted to start a fight.

“Y/N, every night that I’m out, I swing by your apartment.” Peter explained, stepping closer to you. He was giving in to your movements, following your lead to close the distance, fully unaware of your subconscious intentions. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what last night.”

Once he was close enough, you threw a quick punch. Peter dodged it easily, catching your right hand with his left. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion while you squinted your eyes in determination. You urged yourself to forget, to bring yourself back to before you knew the identity of the bug-themed boy in spandex. You urged yourself to let your mind slip fully into Heretic’s mindset, the girl who knew how to release her pent up frustration. The girl who wasn’t dating a superhero.

“What are you doing?” Peter asked in surprise.

With a quiet tilt of your head, you reacted. You spun your wrist out of Peter’s grip, grabbing his arm and pulling him to you. While he was thrown off balance, you dropped to a knee and brought your elbow against the back of his knees. He groaned, falling to his knees. You kicked out to the side, knocking Peter flat on the ground.

Peter tried to process what was happening, but his brain kept telling him that he couldn’t hurt you. But the way you were moving, the intent you were moving with, it wasn’t a fight between Y/N and Peter. He recognized your movement pattern as a fight between Spiderman and Heretic. He took a second to compose himself, to allow himself to believe it was Heretic he was against.

He quickly jumped to his feet, trying to decide if he should fight back. Before he could make up his mind, you were coming at him with a calculated series of blows. Peter quickly blocked most of your hits. You ducked under his arm, connecting your elbow to the ghost of the bruise from where you had stabbed him previously.

He wobbled on his feet as he held his side, allowing you to charge again. Your mind was fuzzy, your muscles acting on their own. Soon, Peter was redirecting all of your attacks. He wasn’t blocking or fighting back, just sidestepping and avoiding. You dropped to sweep his legs, but he easily jumped over your foot. He landed in a low crouch, reaching over to push you. You quickly leaned into your palms, kicking your feet out.

Your feet connected with Peter’s chest, sending him rolling across the mat. You used the opportunity to jump to your feet. Peter turned to face you before shooting a web at your ankle and yanking your foot out from under you. You fell to your back, Peter quickly moving to pin your body down. He had his legs on either side of your hips and folded your arms against your chest.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Peter panted, slightly winded.

You stared at him for a moment, noting the way the sweat made his curls stick to his forehead. His cheeks were slightly tinted pink and his chest noticeably rose and fell with his heavy breaths, both effects quickly fading back to a normal level. You chuckled lightly, pushing Peter off of you. He moved easily, not fighting to keep you pinned. You sat up on your elbows, tilting your head to look at him.

“You should’ve told me sooner.” You said plainly, working through the thick lump in your throat. “Maybe if you had told me before Tony came back into my life, this would’ve been different.”

You knew you had to have this conversation with Peter if you wanted to be able to move on. You wanted things to go back to normal with him, to be able to hang out and laugh and enjoy each other’s company. But now, it just felt like there was an elephant in the room. A big, fat elephant in the room wearing red and blue spandex. And even though you had tried this conversation last night, it didn’t work out well for you.

“I knew how you felt about superheroes.” He replied, his head hanging low. He was upset that he didn’t tell you sooner, but he also knew that you would react in a similar way. He didn’t know that you’d physically fight him over it, but he knew you’d lash out. “And the way you always talked about Mr. Stark and the Avengers… I didn’t want you to hate me too.”

“Peter, you know that I love you.” You sighed, crawling to sit across from him. You considered reaching out for his hand, but you decided against it. You had sent enough mixed messages when you put up the facade for school in the previous days. “Whether you’re a superhero or not, I still love you.”

“Then why did you just attack me?” He asked in shock, gesturing to the mat you two had just been fighting on.

“I don’t know!” You replied in the same tone. “I just- I’m trying to cope with everything still. I’m trying to pretend like everything is okay but it’s not. And this is the only way that I’ve figured out how to deal with things.”

“I didn’t want this to come between us.”

“That’s why I never told you about Heretic…” You explained slowly. You thought that maybe - just maybe - if you had confessed everything, put it all on the line, things could stabilize between you two. “I didn’t want the idea of me being the bad guy to drive you away. I didn’t think you’d understand what I was doing and why I was doing it.”

“I still don’t understand. You’re not the bad guy, Y/N, but...” He shook his head in silent frustration. “These tantrums been old. I can’t keep doing this.”

“You’re killing my vibe in ways words cannot describe. But I’ll try.” You paused, trying to plan your words before you said them. Last night, you let your words flow freely and you caused a rift between you and Peter. So now, you sat before him, silently pleading for him to forgive you. Maybe then you could forgive yourself. “I would take a bullet for you just to prove my love.”

“Only to find out you were the one holding the gun.” Peter scoffed. “Y/N, do you honestly think this hasn’t been bothering me?”

“How would I know?” You challenged simply. “You didn’t come to school today, so was I supposed to just know?”

“It's eight Mondays in a row, nine days of the week.” He replied, punctuating his words with a purposeful point to the ground. “Ever since you started ignoring me the first time, I haven’t been able to actually sleep, o-or focus. Everything reminds me of you, but you don’t even care.”

“I do care, Peter.”

“No, you don’t.” He chuckled in annoyance. Peter wanted to let the whole thing go, to forget that you were at odds and go back to the blissful ignorance of your relationship- back to a time when neither of you knew the other’s secrets. But he knew that wasn’t possible. Your relationship was changed forever, and now you two were faced with a challenge. Adapt or lose everything you two built. “If you actually cared, you’d come with me tonight. As Spiderman.”

You sat in front of your boyfriend, dumbstruck with his request. It seemed so simple. Spend time with Peter as Spiderman, learn to see them as the same entity instead of separate beings. How could you not see it before?

“And if I can’t do it?” You asked tightly, knowing that if you could barely stand the thought of Peter in the suit, it’d be even harder to spend the night with Peter in the suit.

“I saw something earlier, about how there’s good in the bad and bad in the good.” Peter explained, seemingly off topic.

“Yin and Yang.”

“They said there’s an ‘over’ in lover, ‘ex’ in next. But I think what hit hardest was the g-o-o-d in goodbye.”

“We’d break up, then…” You nodded slowly, realizing you were backed into a corner. “Looks like I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“I need you to need both, baby.” He said softly, consoling almost. He leaned over and took your hand, tugging it slightly in an effort to ask you to come closer. You gave in almost instantly. You crawled to sit beside him, to lean your head on his shoulder. His arm came around you as he held you close, as close as he could keep you. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t, Peter.” You confirmed. The moment felt so normal, it made your head swim. “You won’t lose me.”

“Y/N?” You heard your dad calling from down the hall. “Where you at, kid? There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“In here.” You replied, lifting your head from Peter’s shoulder to turn and look towards the door. You watched as your dad entered with Captain America and Black Widow.

Doesn’t look like you loved him enough, did you?

You jumped up in a panic, remembering your dream from your last class. A fresh, new wave of pain and regret coursed through your body. Regret flowed in your veins instead of blood, the desire to flee causing tension in your muscles. Your eyes darted around the room as you looked for another exit, any way to escape the suffocating pressure you felt closing in. Part of you knew that they weren’t going to lecture you - they wouldn’t turn against you - because they didn’t know you. They didn’t know anything about the situation, let alone know anything about you. But the irrational idea that your dream was some sort of prediction was hard to rid yourself of.

“Y/N, this is Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff.” Your dad introduced them.

“Uh, hi.” You said awkwardly.

“Not much for words, are you?” Natasha teased lightly.

“Yeah, guess not.” You chuckled nervously.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about it.” Steve offered kindly. “You’re Tony’s kid, which means your welcome here with open arms.”

“That’s really good to hear, Captain.” You nodded, the tight knot wound in your stomach gently unravelling. “And considering I’m on the outs with my mom, that’s really comforting.”

“What’s this about you and your mom?” Tony cut in, sliding in front of Steve and Natasha.

“Huh?” You played dumb.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Y/N.”

“She got mad that I wasn’t home when she got home.” You waved your hand to dismiss his concern. You saw Natasha motion for Steve to follow her, not thinking they needed to be in the room for that conversation. She pointed at Peter for him to follow, but then shot a look of annoyance before the two left. You assumed Peter refused to leave. “She wasn’t happy that I got into a fight and then ran off like nothing happened.”

“Yeah, but nothing happened.”

“I know that. But she doesn’t. I don’t even care anyways.”

“Y/N-” Peter tried.

“No, I don’t.” You laughed. “She wants to blame me for getting in trouble when A) I didn’t start the fight. B) I didn’t actually hurt Flash, just his ego. And C) Morita was sending me home anyways. What does it matter where I actually went?”

“I get where you’re coming from.” Tony offered, continuing to speak even though you were gathering your stuff to leave the room. “Hey, don’t walk away when I’m talking to you, alright? You’re pissed at your mom? Fine. But you’re not gonna take it out on me.”

“It’s more than just Mom.” You shook your head. “Ask him.” You nodded towards Peter before leaving the room.

You were about halfway out the doorway when you felt a thread-like material wrap wound your wrist. You let your backpack fall from your shoulder on the opposite side while you turned on your heel. You wrapped some of the excess webbing around your hand as you faced Peter, his arm extended and his hand gripping his end of the webs. You glared at him in challenge, trying to gauge if he actually wanted to do it. When his gaze didn’t waver, you acted quickly.

You yanked Peter forward. You aided yourself by moving in close, spinning towards Peter with your left arm locked out, in essence clotheslining the boy. Peter fell to the floor on his back while you stood triumphantly, gently placing your foot on Peter’s chest.

“Seriously?” You mocked. “What were you trying to accomplish?”

“Quit it.” Your dad said, cutting Peter’s web. “Leave him alone, Y/N. He’s trying to help.”

“Yeah, everyone’s trynna do what’s best for me, right?” You scoffed, picking up your backpack on your way out.

You took the long walk home by yourself. You declined Happy’s offer to drive you home. You declined Steve’s offer to pay for a cab. You knew the walk would be about half an hour, maybe more. But it would give you time to think.

You knew Peter would show up on your fire escape tonight, covered head to toe in his suit. You knew that you would have to dig out your gear and if you had the time, repair the neurotransmitters for your knives. A small part deep in the back of your brain was excited, itching to wear the familiar spandex as you silently wandered your neighborhood. But a bigger part, a louder and more prominent part was smarter. It was telling you to call off the meet-up, to find an excuse to not go out.

Maybe you had to catch up on the notes you missed. Maybe your mom was cracking down on you since you were M.I.A. two days in a row. Maybe you were feeling sick. No, Peter wouldn’t believe any of it.

For what felt like the first time in your life, you felt truly afraid. You were scared that you wouldn’t be able to see Peter and Spiderman as the same person. It wasn’t an option to keep them segregated, to have such a deep love for Peter but turn around and despise Spiderman. You kept telling yourself that they were one and the same.

You had seen it with your own eyes. You saw Peter come to your room the night before, red and blue suit fitting snugly against his body. You watched him peel away the mask and let loose a bed of messy brown curls and wide, loving eyes. You saw Peter, in a simple pair of jeans and a nerdy t-shirt, move with the same specific agility and precision that Spiderman moved with. You saw the same moves, the same defensive strategies at play less than an hour ago.

You had ample evidence and memories etched into your brain to support the notion - to prove the notion - that Peter Parker, the boy you loved with your whole existence, the boy who you had given your heart to without hesitation, was the beloved local hero. Peter was Iron Man’s newest prodigy. He was Queens’ protector. Peter was Spiderman…

But could you be Heretic again? It seemed like the fiasco of alter egos kept unravelling new issues every day. It felt as if a mountain of issues was piling up in front of you, and if you pulled on the one you felt was the heaviest to deal with, the entire collection would topple over on top of you and suffocate you.

As you finally approached your apartment door, the sun was slipping behind the nearby buildings. Night was coming quickly, swallowing the time you had left as Y/N. Pushing the time you had to become Heretic upon you. You set your intentions on your bedroom as you entered your home. You quickly reheated your dinner and took it to your room, refusing to utter a word to your mom.

“How was school?” She tried, to which you huffed in response. “Did you go to your dad’s after school or were you at Peter’s?”

The only response was the microwave beeping.

“I know you’re upset about last night, but I don’t think it was right for you to run off with Tony when you were sent home from school… But I do have to admit, I am glad you two are getting along so well.”

“Mhmm.” You acknowledged, a lift to your eyebrows displaying your disbelief in the subject. You carried the hot plate to your room and locked the door behind you.

You knew it wasn’t fair to be so angry with your mother. But with everything going on at that moment, you felt like you wanted to be mad at everyone. You couldn’t even let yourself be - admittedly - starstruck by meeting Captain America because you were upset about what your own mind produced. You hesitated by your door, considering heading back out and apologizing. But the dimming sunlight outside your window and the heat spreading from your dinner to your fingers reminded you of what you were intended to be doing.

You picked at your dinner while you worked to repair the neurotransmitters. You didn’t know what Peter had in mind when he asked you to meet with him, but you knew what the streets of New York could hold, the danger that she kept tucked in alleyways and prowled on dimly lit avenues. You knew you had to be prepared for anything, and since you wouldn’t have your serums to give yourself added protection, you needed to have your knives at the ready.

It was a few hours before you had completed the repairs with the stashed parts in one of your desk drawers. You unlocked your window before changing into your familiar spandex suit. You tugged on your boots, treading silently across your room. You pulled your hair up into a tight ponytail, pulling a couple strands to frame your face. You tossed your mask on your messy bed while you busied yourself at your desk, copying the notes that MJ had sent you.

meech🤔🙄: hey loser. heres the notes you missed. meech🤔🙄: quit screwing around and handle your issues with the other loser. i dont want to see you spiral cause a scrawny nerd

You hadn’t heard Peter crawl through your window, being that you had your music playing on your computer. His light tap on your shoulder caused you to jump and turn aggressively in the chair. Luckily, he was there to catch you so you didn’t tumble to the floor.

“Hey.” He said simply. Even though he had his mask on, you knew he was smiling. You heard it in his voice.

“Wow, guess I fell for you again.” You joked instantly, patting his chest lightly as you hauled yourself to your feet. “So, what’s the plan for tonight, Spiderman?”

“You’re really gonna come with me tonight?” He wanted to confirm. One thing you could always count on was Peter’s double-checking.

“No, these are my new skin-tight spandex pajamas.” You laughed lightly, side-stepping him to collect your knives from your bed, along with your mask. “Peter, I know these past couple days have been terrible. And I know it’s mostly been my fault.”

“Baby, no.” He said softly, reaching for your glove covered hand with his own. You couldn’t physically feel his fingers around yours, but you felt the pressure of a gentle squeeze and the slight texture of his suit against your exposed fingertips. “I’m as much at fault as you are.” Your eyebrows raised in amusement as you paused placing your mask on your face. “I didn’t mean it like that!” Peter immediately backtracked.

“We’ve been together for a long time, hon. I know what you meant.” You shook your head in amusement before hiding behind your mask. “You can keep going, by the way. I like where that was headed.”

“All I’m saying is that I could’ve done a little more. I don’t want to lose you, Y/N.” Peter admitted, headed towards the window with a gentle grip on your hand still. “You are… everything to me.”

A huge smile broke across your face. You had never thought that hearing words Peter had told you a million times over would give you such butterflies, such a tingling feeling across your body. Hearing it come from Peter, but seeing it come from Spiderman, it helped you bridge the gap between the boy you adored and the persona that you despised.

“So, what’s the plan tonight?” You asked again as you two climbed out of your window to your fire escape. “Usually I just kinda wander around until I run into you.”

“You ever wondered what it’s like to swing?” He offered, the sound of a smirk dancing in his voice.

“You’re kidding.” You smiled nervously.

“Do you trust me?”

“What?”

“Do you trust me?” He asked, climbing to stand on the railing of your fire escape and holding his hand out for you. The entire scene reminded you of the Disney movie, Aladdin.

“Yes?” You replied carefully, reaching for his hand. You climbed to the railing, wrapping your arms around his shoulders tightly. “If I die-”

“You’re not gonna die.” Peter laughed.

“If I die-” You continued pointedly. “-don’t let Flash come to my funeral.”

You closed your eyes tightly, burying your face into the crook of Peter’s neck. You locked your hands together, clinging desperately to Peter. Once you felt your feet leave the railing, a small squeal left your lips. You considered wrapping your legs around Peter’s waist for bonus security, but you abstained, worried it would interfere with Peter’s swinging.

You wanted to take a peek and see where you two were headed, but the wind burn on your face kept your eyes shut. You eventually felt the sharp sting of the cool air stop. The deep woosh in your ears had silenced, but it took a moment for your head to stop spinning.

Peter’s arm around your waist relaxed slightly to a lazy drape. Carefully, your feet felt the solid ground beneath but your arms remained locked around Peter. The swirling feeling in your head subsided, your mind settled slowly to allow your body to find its balance. You carefully opened your eyes, finding you and Peter atop a tall building with a familiar skyline.

“Is this your apartment building?” You asked slowly, taking in the new angle of the familiar view.

“Yeah..” He said gently, as if he was admiring the view as well. “I didn’t really want to do anything tonight… I just wanted to be with you.”

“Y’know, last time I was here with you, I threw you off the roof… I didn’t get to actually take in the view.”

“I forgot about that.” He laughed gently.

“I never said sorry for that, by the way.” You said awkwardly.

What you didn’t see was that Peter was admiring the view, only he wasn’t looking at the skyline. Peter’s eyes were trained on you, feeling as if he was seeing you for the first time. Peter was dumbstruck. How could you become even more beautiful?

Maybe it was the wind blown look of your hair. The pink tint of your cheeks and nose due to the wind burn. Maybe it was the wide, soft look in your eyes. The adoring smile you offered. Maybe it was the way you clung to his body even though you were completely safe. He felt your hands release themselves, one of them slid from across his shoulders to hang lazily against his chest. The ghost of your hand left a tingling warmth across his skin under his suit. Even though there was no skin to skin contact, he had missed your touch more than he had realized.

“I love you.” He said so quietly he barely heard his own voice.

“I love you too, Peter.” You replied, turning under his arm to face him. You took a small step to the side so you could stand in front of him fully. You slid the hand from his chest back up to his shoulder and up his neck. “Can I kiss you?”

“I was hoping you’d ask.” He tilted his head with his words, his signature move when he was a little cocky. He leaned in slightly before pulling back quickly and removing his mask. “Almost forgot.”

You paused for a millisecond, recognizing something incredible. You didn’t shy away from the kiss with his mask on. Yes, it would’ve been strange to kiss his mask and not him. But you didn’t think of it as kissing Spiderman. Your mind registered it as Peter with a mask on.

It was just Peter with a mask on.

You smiled widely from your revelation, leaning into his lips eagerly. Your hands easily slid up his neck, the feeling suit disappearing under your exposed fingertips and fading into his warm, soft skin. You felt the tousled texture of his hair, the slightly damp mess of curls that your digits were so used to being tangled in.

When you pulled away for a breath, you noted the dopey smile on your boyfriend’s face. You tilted your head back to let out an honest laugh, the realest laugh you had released since you had learned your boyfriend’s secret.

“This is amazing, Pete.” You said gently, your fingers dancing small circles on the nape of his neck. “I can’t believe you get to do this every night. I can see why you never answer me after eleven.” You joked.

“You’re in a good mood tonight.” He offered a small, content smile as he spoke. “So I guess Spiderman isn’t all that bad, is he?”

“Well, Spiderman did just try to kill me…” You teased, tilting your head side to side as if mulling over the thought, to which he scoffed in response. “But the guy under the mask is actually pretty great.”

“Y’know, if you want, I’m sure Mr. Stark would give you an internship like mine.”

“I don’t know about all that yet.” You shut down the thought almost immediately. “But I don’t think it’ll be as hard for me to see you and Spiderman as the same person anymore.”

“That’s all I wanted.” He sighed in relief.

“I owe you an apology, Peter.” You admitted with a heavy sigh. “It’s the least you deserve.”

“No, you-” He tried.

“Let me say this. Please.” You tried, offering Peter a pleading look. He nodded slightly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “I reacted out of fear, out of anger and- and pain. And I know that’s not an excuse, but I didn’t know how to cope with everything. The entirety of my world had flipped in the matter of minutes. Less than one hour changed my family dynamic and my dynamic with you. You are a huge part of my life, and if I lost you - especially over something so temporary - over feelings so blown out of proportions. I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself. I couldn’t even sleep last night when you left. And then you weren’t at school and I- I thought it was my fault. I thought I chased you away and I had lost you.”

You felt a gentle thumb drag across your cheek and you realized you had begun to cry. Silent, warm tears had started to fall slowly down your face, and the sight was almost enough to move Peter to tears of his own. He offered you a sad, understanding smile. You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing to let your mind root yourself in that moment.

He knew it was hard for you to admit everything you were saying. He knew you were never the most open of books, not even with him. You told him everything - almost everything. And now, here you were, with the New York skyline setting the scene behind you. The constant sounds of the city’s streets filling the silence between your words, the heavy movements of your chest as you tried to maintain your semblance of calm. Peter felt a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, a tingling feeling. Almost like butterflies.

It felt like the first date all over again.

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I absolutely adore you. And I want you in my life, no matter what you’re wearing.” You laughed nervously. “I love you, Peter Parker. And I need you.”

“You need me?” He teased lightly, wiggling his eyebrows in suggestion.

“I need you, Peter.” You nodded with a smile. “And I need you as Spiderman, too.”

Peter threw his head back with a wide grin. He let out a dramatically long sigh of relief before he faced you again. “I’m so glad you said that.”

“How long are we going to be out tonight?” You asked. The adrenaline of swinging with Peter was draining from your system and you could feel your body inching towards a crash. The lack of sleep from the night before probably wasn’t helping your case.

“You wanna come in?” He offered, leading you to the side of the building that would eventually lead to Peter’s window. “I know you’re tired.”

You nodded tiredly, mumbling how you’d have to explain it to your mom in the morning. Peter hopped over the ledge so he could offer you his hand and help you climb the fire escapes. He stayed in front of you, walking down sideways so he could keep any eye on you. His hand was locked around yours as you two treaded the metal steps that would eventually take you to his bedroom.

#peter parker #peter parker fanfic #peter fanfic #peter parker fic #peter parker x reader #peter x you #peter x yn #peter x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x yn #peter parker x y/n #spiderman fic #spiderman #marvel fic

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sarcasmisakindofmagic · 4 years

Text

And I, seeking safe harbour, found it between the pages of a book

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x fem!reader

Word count: 2,200

Warnings: Tom prefers the movie to the book. one (1) swear word. This is a yearning sort of fluff.

A/N: This is unbeta’d so please forgive any typos

It started, as so many things did for Santiago Garcia, in a bookshop.

The bookshop of his childhood had been haphazard and dusty, second hand books piled high above his head; unending towers of adventures waiting for him to read. They had been browning at the edges, marginalia scrawled in a rainbow of colours in thousands of different hands - previous readers accompanying him on his journey and adding wry remarks to the story.

His abuela had taken him there every Wednesday after school. It had just been the two of them, the cousins relegated to helping abuelo on the farm, but Santi as the baby could help abuela with the town errands. She always got him one book to add to his collection.

Le Morte d’Arthur was a favourite, the binding long since giving up the ghost. Pages held together by string and Santi turning each page with a gentle caress, weighting down each pile with carefully selected rocks - flat, nothing to tear the paper.

Santi had gone back to the bookshop once after Abuela died. The day before he was due to leave town to hit bootcamp. He handed a fresh copy of Le Morte d’Arthur to the volunteer behind the desk, complete with scrawled annotations and inscription.

There hadn’t been many bookshops on the tours he’d taken, occasional lingering moments of perusing the shelves. Frankie knew to leave him alone with the potential stories, a quiet nod and he’d be off to stake out a quiet spot. The whole team would find him later, passively guarding enough space for them to guard each other’s backs. Tom never got the message always hovering, making comments about how he always preferred the movies anyway, Santiago stopped looking for bookshops with him around. Will and Benny usually came as a pair. Benny burning off energy, as Will followed more placidly. Ironically it had been Benny who understood the most, Will losing himself to music more easily than the written word.

“Books, man, I could do that anywhere. It’s active, y’know? Music just happens to you, but i can lose myself in a book.” Benny had told him once, dropping a Du Maurier novel in his lap with a sly grin and only offering a shrug when anybody asked where he’s got an english copy in the middle of bumfuck nowhere redacted.

On the long flights where Benny literally couldn’t sleep, and Santi had too many possibilities running through his head, they’d swap books, making little notes and hiding dicks in the centre folds so they’d get bigger as the book opened.

Half their friendship had been little doodles of dicks, drawn at the most heartfelt and profound moments of classics. Oddly it completely summed Benny up.

The local bookshop was a hidden gem. After Colombia he hadn’t sought out the written word for so long the impulse to go in surprised him enough that he was inside before he’d really thought about it. The shelves inside were crammed full, small hand-painted signs letting him know the genre in which he found himself. There was no military precision to be found here, plenty of space to get lost and find a gem no one had wanted to read in years. The ghost abuela murmured approvingly in his ear, old advice echoing ‘Books need readers, nieto, always find a story that has taken someone on the journey before.’

Occasionally, there would be little stacks of books as new orders came in, the shelves too full to make room for the new arrivals. Regulars moved round them, or paused to run the pad of one finger down the spines, a momentary introduction to a potential new companion.

Hidden around a corner was a tiny café area, only enough to seat maybe ten people, it wasn’t advertised outside - Santiago had never seen every seat taken, though he certainly recognised the regulars by now.

There was the local Rabbi who would tuck himself in the corner with a hot tea and write, occasionally muttering under his breath in Hebrew as he wrestled his sermon into existence. Two students, who were not dating but should be, occupied the table with book wedged under the leg to make it stop wobbling. They were always in contact with one another, limbs seeking the other’s warmth. They didn’t have a schedule but were never in before noon and had only once been spotted on a Thursday.

A young mum who sat by herself on Saturday mornings and absorbed the quiet, she’d once fallen asleep, resting her head on the shelves. Santiago had woken her at her usual departure time, to flustered thank yous, ‘her twins were at ballet classes and her husband was away-’. She’d been out the store and earshot before she’d finished speaking but a little plate with a huge slab of shortcake had been waiting for him the Saturday after, with ‘Thank you’ iced across the top. There had also been a card with a little boy and girl dancing ballet together impressively drawn in crayon, with capitalised signatures.

Santiago had it in a frame at his house and refused to explain it to anyone that asked beyond a bland, “It’s a thank you card.”

Only Will had taken more than a beat to move on, absorbing the bright colours and wobbly letters. The clap on Santi’s shoulder and soft look had been enough. Will had never needed words to get a point across, but a gesture like the card? Will understood that well enough.

The boys all knew about you, heard stories about the book shop owner who could make Pope blush with a well timed smile and look in her eye.

Abuela would have liked her, was the way he explained it to Frankie, blaming the hushed tones on the baby cradled in his arms, rather than the strength of his crush. Little Nina was as placid as her daddy and slept like a rock from day one, Santiago could have yelled his love to heavens and she would only have huffed a little and snuggled closer.

Frankie had only cuffed him on the back of the head and asked if he would pick up some Spanish children’s books for Nina. Santiago didn’t need the excuse to go in there, but he grabbed it with both hands anyway.

You’d been delighted to help, piling his arms high with options before whittling it back down again, selecting tough to rip cardboard and silly rhymes over the school year novellas.

“I’ll pick those up once she’s grown a bit.” He promised, eyeing the reject pile guiltily. “If she takes after her godfather she’ll have her own library soon enough.”

“I was the same,” you laughed, stacking the books neatly by age group and sub-genre, “I used to drive my mother spare reading the book the same day we’d bought it.” “Would you like to go to dinner?” Santiago asked impulsively, talking over the end of your sentence, flushing a little at how abruptly he’d blurted it out. “I’d like to hear about your favourite books.” Your smile made his stomach flip, as you nodded fumbling with the book in your hands.

“I’d like that.” You agreed warmly. “I have quite a few favourites though, it might take more than one.”

Will met you first; in the bookshop without Santi’s supervision. There had been a break in at the shop and Will only lived five minutes away, rushing to calm you down as Santi drove like a madman to get to you.

The shop was in shambles, shelves torn down and books strewn everywhere. Loose leaves littered the floor, glass shards gleaming cruelly in the glaring streetlights. Will had wrapped you up in his jacket, careful of the bruises and nasty gash on your leg, lifting you off the floor and out onto the sidewalk.

He didn’t leave your side until Santiago arrived, waiting until Santi had you in his arms before heading back into the shop to check out what needed fixing.

Frankie met the shop before he met you. His house had the biggest yard, opening out into the woods without anything fencing him in. Will commandeered the space, Frankie happily helping out with the book repairs. His hands had never shaken under pressure, always sure on the controls of the choppers. He learnt the art of bookbinding quickly enough, humming along to Will’s playlists, the two quietest members of the team content to let the music fill the quiet for them.

The first time Frankie met you was when he and Will showed you the shop. The shelves Will had built, now firmly fixed to the wall and floor - they’d prop up the walls before anybody toppled them again. The undamaged books were separated from Frankie’s repairs, in case they weren’t up to your standards. He was pulled into a hug before he could summon up an apology for the amateur job. A stream of thank yous echoing in his ear as you hugged Will just as tightly.

Santiago was smiling, bringing him into hug with a quiet cabron. He always knew when Frankie was overthinking something. You pulled Santi away, demanding Will give a tour of the new, improved shop. Happily calling for Frankie to keep up, you needed to know everything he’d done too.

Benny volunteered to stay at the shop during the day, doing the heavy lifting while your bruises faded. Santiago worked from home but couldn’t help hovering in the shop, too concerned for you and too distracted by all the books he hadn’t got a chance to read.

Somehow this had turned into Benny painting little murals on any spare wall space and the edges of the shelves.

“Have you always painted?” You asked curiously,

Benny shrugged, scratching his chin and leaving tracks of paint over the stubble.

“Pops always had Will out back helping with the farm, he learned the woodworking with him. I helped momma round the house until I was old enough to help paint the stuff they built together.” He broke off to gently shoo Hades away from the paints, the shop cat meowing plaintively at his curiosity being denied.

“Come here puss, you don’t need a paint job.” You coaxed, clicking your fingers to entice him up onto the counter. There was no way your bruises were going to let you bend down to pick him up.

“Anyway, momma was an art teacher she taught me the basics, after that,” he flushed, “a friend helped me practice.”

You had to bite down on your cheek to keep from smiling or asking anymore questions. Benny’s friend sounded interesting but his expression screamed please-don’t-ask-questions.

“My mum could knit anything.” You said instead, finally convincing Hades to have a cuddle and scritching under his chin. “I tried to copy her one summer, ended up having to be cut free from all the wool.”

Benny laughed, all the tension leaving his shoulders at the image of you all snared up like a kitten.

“Me and Will used to track footprints through the house all the time, ‘til we did it with whitewash after painting the barn. Momma had us camped outside for a month before she let us back in.” Benny said sheepishly, a smudged green handprint marking the back of his neck as he confessed. “Pops snuck us in for showers, said he felt bad we’d got punished for chores.”

Hades leapt out of your arms, startled by your laughter.

“God, I dropped a whole bowl of tomato soup on a cream carpet? Does that count?” You wheezed, leaning back against the shelves to try and stretch out the bruising seeing if the new position would help. Benny winced in sympathy

“Sorry. I’ll try to be less hilarious.” He quipped dryly. “And no, not unless you camped out for a month.”

The decision to marry you was the easiest one Santiago ever made. How on earth to actually ask you to marry him, turned out to be a harder thing to pin down. The ring went on half the trips you made for a year: down to Hawai’i on a group holiday, camping up in the mountains and even the near weekly hikes you took on Mondays, shutting shop up and leaving the town far behind.

It was an old copy of The Princess Bride that eventually spurred him into action. Santi was helping with organising the basement which was full of donations and books to be shipped out across the county.

Golding’s novel hit him square in the chest, the achingly familiar cover making Santiago’s throat tighten. Abuela had loved this book, taking great pleasure in dramatically clearing her throat to read it to him when he was sick. The grandpa in the story was replaced with Abuela as she told him the tale of true love: Inigo Montoya switching between Spanish and English and easily as he switched his sword hand.

He’d long been enamoured with pirates and fighting evil kings, but The Princess Bride had been the book to remind him to find something to fight for. Perhaps he’d been clinging to the doomed romance of Le Morte d’Arthur for too long.

“The Princess Bride? Santiago, this is true love - you think this happens every day?” You quoted easily, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you passed.

Santiago sent up a garbled prayer of thanks to Abuela, she always knew what he needed before he did anyway.

And so, Santiago Garcia asked the love of his life to marry him on a rainy Thursday in a bookshop. And it was perfect.

‘But I also have to say, for the umpty-umpth time, that life isn't fair. It's just fairer than death, that's all.’ -William Golding, The Princess Bride.

#santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #triple frontier #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #oddly introspective drabble #i love books #so Pope loves books #the princess bride #william golding #le morte d'arthur #Ella wrote a thing #not quite fluff

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anninhiliation · 4 years

Text

Going Under

A/N: If I'm crying, then you're crying. This is how this works.

Masterlist Circles

Now I will tell you what I've done for you

Fifty-thousand tears I've cried

Screaming, deceiving and bleeding for you

And you still won't hear me (I'm going under)

After my one-night stand with Chris, and realizing he only showed up at my front door to use me once again I decided a warm bath would be therapeutic. I threw the bed sheet into the hamper and walked into the bathroom. I turned on the bathtub faucet and let the warm water fill the tub. Grabbing some lilac-colored candles and my little blue Bic lighter from underneath the sink, I ignited each candle and placed them around the sink and a few by the tub. I looked at myself through the reflection seeing every little mark Chris left behind. Little red-violet clouds adorned my neck, collar bones, left breast, and little fingerprint bruises around my hips, still holding onto me. These marks used to fill me with joy and send waves of heat to my core, but this time around it was different. I placed my fingers over the little bruises he left behind, remembering how tightly he held on to me, almost as if he was afraid I would slip away. These marks were a painful reminder I let Christopher Velez back into my life just for him to leave again. The room filled with the scent of lavender, as the candles wax melted away. Turning away from the mirror before my tears could escape my eyes I dipped my toe into the tub and feeling the perfect temperature. My whole body was embraced by the warm water giving me a nurturing hug and calming me down.

Don't want your hand this time I'll save myself

Maybe I'll wake up for once (wake up for once)

Not tormented daily defeated by you

Days went by without Chris contacting me, and I continued on with my life trying to pretend we never had the one nightstand. After the marks he left behind faded away, I agreed to go out with Roman, a new guy I’ve been seeing after Chris and I broke things off. He was a tall handsome man, with black curls that adorned his head with memorizing light blue eyes. Roman had plump lips, a jawline that could cut glass and light stubble. Roman was everything Chris wasn’t, and I genuinely wanted something good to come from this. I slipped on a tight little baby pink dress that hugged me in all the right places, it used to be Chris’s favorite dress I owned. But tonight, I was ready to let someone else rip it off of me and enjoy it as much as he used to. I paired the dress with a Swarovski diamond choker, dangly diamond earrings, and a little clutch. I wore my favorite pair of pumps and tied my hair up in a voluminous ponytail. My phone vibrated from my dresser as I was giving myself one last glance.

Roman: Here babe

Me: Coming!

I peaked in the mirror before leaving the apartment, taking a deep breath before leaving the apartment.

Just when I thought I'd reached the bottom

I'm dying again

I'm going under (going under)

Drowning in you (drowning in you)

I'm falling forever (falling forever)

Roman held onto my waist as we grinded against the dance floor. My hands were wrapped around in Roman’s nape as my ass was pressed hard against him. He let out a groan as I felt him harden underneath me. Smirking, I seductively turned around and bit my bottom lip snaking my arms around his neck. My eyes widened as I unexpectedly found a pair of big brown eyes glued to me.

“Everything okay?” Roman questioned

My eyes sprang back to Roman, as he patiently waited for me to answer.

“Uh- yeah” I smiled “everything’s fine I thought I saw something but I guess it was just my imagination”

I watched from my peripheral vision as Chris observed my every move as Roman went in to meet my lips with his. I closed my eyes and kissed him back feeling him pour his lust out into the kiss. Roman’s hands traveled down my body and squeezed my ass making me moan.

“Let’s take this back to my place” he growled in my ear, sending waves of heat to my core.

I nodded as he took my hand and guided me off the dance floor. I looked back one last time and noticed Chris was gone.

“Wait” I stopped as the cold air nipped my skin

“What is it?” Roman questioned cocking an eyebrow

“I- I forgot something I’ll be right back” I stuttered

I turned around and walked back into the club where I knew Chris would be.

“Are you here by coincidence or are you stalking me now?” I asked as I stood next to Chris leaning on the bar top

I've got to break through

I'm going under

Blurring and stirring the truth and the lies

So I don't know what's real and what's not

Always confusing the thoughts in my head

So I can't trust myself anymore

I texted Roman I ran into a friend as I was walking out and she desperately needed me. That we would reschedule some other time as Chris and I sneaked out the back door. I knew what I was doing was wrong, and I knew I would get hurt in the end but I couldn’t stop myself. It was as if Chris had possession of my mind and soul. We made it to his car before our lust-filled desires came pouring out. His lips clung to my neck as his body hovered over mine in the back seat.

“Shouldnt...we take this...some were...a little...more….private?” I moaned as my fingers tugged on his hair

“Don’t worry nena” he mumbled as he marked my neck sending waves of heat to my core

I bucked my hips as his hand traveled down into my soaked core. He moved my panties to the side as he rubbed my never endings sending me to see the stars. He drew figure eights as our lips crashed into each other. I melted under his touch as Chris slipped two fingers inside me nicely stretching me out. The cold metal of his rings sent shivers down my spine as he curled them. Chris knew my body like the back of my hand. He knew how to make me whimper and moan under him.

“Papi” I whimpered “mas” tugging his high lighted locks as the desire for him grew

He unzipped his pants and pulled them down enough for his member to come out. We adjusted ourselves in the seats so my leg was over Chris’s shoulder as his tip slowly stretched out my entrance. The car windows fogged up as he thrusted into me sending me into the clouds. The car moved with Chris as he hit my inner sweet spot tying a knot in my lower abdomen. My walls closed in around his girth, sending him close to his own edge.

“Dale nena” Chris mumbled as he marked my neck

My eyes rolled to the back of my skull as my lips parted screaming his name. Thighs vibrating around him as he came inside me, filling me up with his warmth.

I'm dying again

I'm going under (going under)

Drowning in you (drowning in you)

I'm falling forever (falling forever)

As we came back down from our highs, I wiggled away from Chris and grabbed my panties from the floor. Chris watched as I slid them back on and adjusted my dress.

“Where are you going?” He questioned confused by my actions

“I’m leaving” I stated as I fixed myself up before exiting the car door “I figured I’d beat you to it and leave first”

“Wait nena” Chris pleaded as I turned around holding onto the edge of the door

“Come back at least let me drive you back to your apartment” He offered as he zipped up his pants

“Fine but you’re not coming in with me” I snapped as I slammed the door and let myself into the shotgun seat

Chris quietly got into the driver’s seat and sped away.

I've got to break through

So go on and scream

Scream at me I'm so far away

I won't be broken again

The whole car ride I fought back tears, staring out the side window not daring to look at or in Chris’s direction.

“Why so quiet nena?” Chris asked finally breaking the silence

“No reason...I don’t really have anything to say” I sighed still refusing to look at him

I couldn’t help but think about how Chris would never be mine. This would never last, and it would be just like a dream, only to return on the rarest nights. But all dreams come to an end, and he would eventually stumble upon someone he would commit to. From the time when we used to date I knew he would treat that girl the way I wished he would treat me. I knew for a fact, that if I let him come back into the apartment with me, it would just be for the night. I would fall asleep in his arms and wake up alone filled with regret.

“Nena somethings up I know it, look at me” Chris insisted

I slowly turned my head to be met with an adoring pair of brown eyes staring at me. His hand gently rubbed my thigh as he gave me his signature warm smile.

“You can talk to me nena” he continued

“Really its nothing” I smiled weakly as he pushed away my thoughts wrapping me up in his intoxicating energy

I've got to breathe I can't keep going under

I'm dying again

I'm going under (going under)

Drowning in you (drowning in you)

I'm falling forever (falling forever)

I knew that I shouldn’t, that it was my self-destructive behavior acting up but after Chirs parked the car in the lot I invited him in to “talk”. We both knew that was a lie and it was the underlining lust we both wanted to fulfill. He was like a drug, and I, its victim needed it I could not live without his touch. Chris slammed me against the door as soon as we reached my apartment and remarked the forming clouds he left just minutes ago. My breathing hitched I fell under his touch again, fully prepared to be left naked and abandoned once again. Only to be left with the memory and the hope that we stumble upon each other once again.

“Fuck” I moaned as Chris unzipped my dress letting it pool to the floor as he grabbed me and sent me to cloud nine

I've got to break through

I'm going under (going under)

Going under (drowning in you)

I'm going under

#christopher velez #chris velez #velez #christopher #chris #angst #cnco #cnco fic #cnco song fic #cnco smut #song fic #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #heartbreak #christopher velez imagine #christopher velez angst #cnco imagine

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too-many-baes · 5 years

Text

Tequila, Bones and Bruises

Pairing: fem!reader x Sam Winchester

Warnings(s): alcohol, injury, mentions of death, fluff, slight angst?

Word Count: 4.6K

Request: “Hey - just saw your requests are open. I know in general Dean gets a lot of love in the fandom but I'm a total Sam girl! Can you do one where reader is a hunter that the boys have known since they were young because John took care of her (aka left her with dean) when her dad was away or something like that... anyway she and Sam have always liked each other but after Jess he's too scared to do anything about it. Maybe Dean helps or something or she totally kicks ass... idk you choose. I trust you” – by Anon

A/N: Thank you anon for your Sam request! I am also a total Sam girl, have been from day dot so I'm glad you gave me the chance to show the tallest Winchester some well earned love 💝 This is probably not what you envisioned at all, ya girl went off on a bit of a tangent... 🤷🏼‍♀️

Masterlist in bio and requests are open

*gif credit [@ aborddelimpala]*

*******

“Here's to another successful hunt!” You exclaim, placing down a tray full of tequila shots for you and your awaiting companions.

“No no, c'mon Y/N we have another hunt lined up for tomorrow. We should get an early night.” Sam's complaints fall on deaf ears as you defiantly place a shot with a lime wedge balancing upon it in his hand. You’d expected the protest from the more responsible brother, your rebuttal at the ready.

“Sam we just took down a changeling, the very thing that nearly took John Winchester off the board. If the fact the prodigal children”, the way you referred to the three of you caused an amused snort from Dean, you shooting him a pointed look as you continue, “could do it with all their limbs still intact isn't worth celebrating then I don't know what is.”

“To the prodigal children!” Dean yells, holding his shot glass high in way of a toast. You happily clink his glass repeating his cheers, both of you shooting your drinks in unison. You screw up your face at the unpleasant yet familiar taste, holding the wedge to your lips to relieve the burning sensation from your mouth. Dean places his glass down, refusing to take the reprieve the sour lime would provide. You roll your eyes at his false bravado, turning your expectant gaze to Sam, flicking your eyes from the still full shot in his hand back to his face.

“I'm not doing it”, he states with confidence, placing the glass back on the table.

“C'mon Sam, you really gonna make me and Dean celebrate alone?” You ask, putting on the best puppy dog pout you could. On anyone else you're sure the gesture would have fallen flat, with Sam though you can see his resolve weaken with the relaxing of his shoulders as he puffs out a breath. “Live a little Sammy", you chirp, a testing lilt to your voice.

“Yea, live a little Sammy!” Dean's last encouragement was the straw that broke the camel’s back, Sam shaking his head at himself before throwing the burning liquid down his throat to the sound of you and Dean's cheers.

“Right,” you start as you drum your hands against the table, leaning over slightly to address Dean sitting across from you, “what's the old man gotta say about this one?” You ask, cueing Dean to pull John's old journal (the bible as you liked to call it) from his bag, flipping through the pages to find a similar case.

“Sorry, whose old man is he Y/N?” Sam asks, you poking his side for his teasing.

Your own dad was barely in the picture when you were a child. How incompetent the Winchesters deemed their father to be speaks volumes about your dad, as he felt he was better off leaving you with John when he went on his benders, which was frequently enough that you barely saw him.

Ever since you’ve referred to John as your old man, often claiming he was the closest thing to a father that you had. This was completely false of course, that role was taken by Dean. As begrudging as he had been initially about having another kid to watch over he warmed to you quickly, as you did to him. Although he treated you like a sister in truth he was the best father figure you've ever had. Not that you'd ever admit that sappy sentiment to him.

The story was entirely different with Sam. While Dean was like a father and big brother wrapped into one gruff, smooth talking parcel, Sam was your first crush before you even understood what a crush felt like. You took an instant shine to the youngest Winchester, him reciprocating. The amount of nights Dean had to yell at you for gossiping into the night were countless, and as you grew up you figured it would just be natural for you to get together. You were certain he felt for you exactly what you did for him.

It was a teary few months when Sam up and left for college without so much as a goodbye. You understood he was angry. He and his fathers relationship had been tumultuous at best but you thought he would have spared you a thought before he ran off into the night. The teary process had started all over again when you and Dean had gone to fetch him only to find he'd shacked up with some pretty sorority girl while there.

Nevertheless you were there to comfort him when the unimaginable happened and Jess had suffered the same fate as his mum, and you were there again when John was taken from them too. No matter how you felt you could always set your own feelings aside, if Sam needed you you'd been there.

Now years on you’d hoped in vain that he might be ready, that maybe all those signals and stolen looks would finally come to something. You had hoped this time round would be different, that time apart had made him fonder and he'd set aside whatever had been holding him back before. Evidently, had been wrong. The lingering looks and playful flirting continued just like before but nothing more. This caused you to doubt every little thing. Maybe he was just joking around and you couldn't see that through your ever hopeful eyes?

After some searching you figure out the creature you'd be hunting tomorrow should be a poltergeist, and after some moaning from you about work time being over Dean sets the book back into it's place so he can mainline tequila with you.

Dean and you end up a few shots ahead of Sam, the fact he'd done as many as he had shocking the both of you. It didn't take Dean long in his half inebriated state to locate the old juke box, lining up one classic rock song after the other. You create a make shift dance floor by pushing some tables aside despite the less than pleased looks from the bartender.

Dean dances, shredding fake guitar solos and singing along much too loudly as you jump around enthusiastically, looking like you were auditioning for an instrument-less band.

Sam sits and watches from the table, grinning at your antics as he is totally unable to stop himself from laughing to himself every time you pull a face or throw up a rock on sign with your hands.

“Alright Sammy, it's your turn to give the lady a dance", he all but yells as he makes his way to sit at your table as you remain hopping about to Metallica.

With a laugh Sam refuses, “No I'm happy with the view from here.”

“Y/N!” Dean yells. Sam shoots him a bug eyed stare, shaking his head at his elder brother. Your head snaps around at the calling of your name, “Sammy here would rather have you dance all by yourself than give you a dance.” He exclaims childishly, you pouting once more as you try to remain standing on the spot, crossing your legs in an effort to stay balanced.

“That is VERY ungentlemanly”, you huff out, the boys laughing at your choice of words.

“Ya hear that", Dean speaks this time at a volume only Sam could hear, “ you wouldn't wanna be ungentlemanly, would ya?” He asks with a quirk of an eyebrow and tilt of his head.

“I know what you're doing Dean", Sam states, his eyes travelling to where you sway alone, completely unaware of the conversation happening just feet away from you. Dean gives a shrug in response.

“So go do it then.” Dean’s firm statement is met with a hesitant shake of the head.

“I can't Dean, what happened with Jess-”

“Sam,” Dean’s stern voice stops Sam before he can finish his self doubting sentence, “What happened with Jess sucked, but you can’t let that hold you back. That girl,” he gestures with his thumb towards your still dancing form, “ain’t gonna be around forever.”

Sam sits a moment before speaking, “That's what I'm afraid of.”

Your hands slamming on the table snaps Deans jaw shut, now unable to refute Sam any further.

“I have danced by myself too long boys. Sam,” you say, dramatically pointing at him with a straight arm, “if you dance with me I'll let you pick the song.” He laughs a hearty laugh but remains seated, prompting you to continue, returning to leaning on the edge of the table. “One time offer Sam, going once, going twice...” You trail off, standing straight and holding your palm face up for him which with an amused roll of the eyes he accepts. You pull him up leaning your whole body into the action, causing him to lightly collide with your much smaller stature, grabbing you gently in case you should fall. You steady yourself just fine despite the giddy, non-alcohol fuelled rush Sam's hands gave you, firmly grasping one of his hands and yanking him to the juke box.

“Okay Sam, pick away.” He doesn't initially begin to pick so you continue, “Look, I'll even cover my eyes so you don't get all shy about it.” For the umpteenth time that night you make Sam laugh, following your request by flicking through the options until he smirks with his selection.

“Alright, are you ready?” Sam asks while simultaneously pulling your hands away from your eyes and pulling you into the centre of the small space. After some silence the first notes of Way Down by Elvis Presley play, putting a beaming smile on your face.

“Elvis!?” You question in shock, knowing Sam could hardly call himself a fan.

“What can I say, I'm a people pleaser”, he answers as he starts to sway your still joined hands to the fast beat of the music.

You danced like idiots the whole song, Sam spinning you around until you were so dizzy you were sure you'd fall, reaching out and gripping his biceps for stability. He grabs you lightly by the waist before speaking, “Are you okay?” He can't keep the laugh from his sentence, knowing he helped cause your loss of balance. Little did he know he hands on you caused the dizziness just as much as the dancing. You raise your head, looking up at those beautiful eyes, the ones you've been pining after since primary school. You nod, lacking the control of yourself to make the move with any kind of conviction, instead remaining a willing hostage to his gaze.

As your eyes stay locked as the juke box whirs and clicks signifying a change in song. What plays makes your eyes widen in embarrassment, She Loves You by The Beatles. You reluctantly snap your eyes away from one Winchester to the other, who happens to be standing at the jukebox with a shit-eating grin planted on his face. Your cheeks redden like a fire has been lit under your skin. Risking one last look at Sam whose eyes also rest on Dean, you break away and march to the table. Snatching your jacket as well as Dean’s, you clutch yours in hand while you haphazardly toss his so it collides with his chest.

“We're leaving", you state matter-of-factly, shrugging your jacket on and turning to face the boys with hands on hips.

“Y/N-” Sam’s soft tone of voice makes you click your tongue in irritation. You didn't want him to feel sorry for you, avoiding his what you assumed was a pitying gaze as you spin on your heel making your way to the door.

“I'll meet you at the car", you throw over your shoulder, exiting the bar as The Beatles taunting song chases you out.

She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah.

***

You get into the drivers side door of the impala, an absolute rarity for you. You toss a bottle of water at each Winchester, keeping one for yourself. You forcefully put a burger in Dean's lap, causing an elongated grumble.

“Get with it sunshine", you state without a trace of sympathy, turning the key to start up the car. You drive to the abandoned house, Dean muttering the whole time about not getting too comfortable in the drivers seat. You arrive at the run down, partly boarding up home, rolling to a stop in front of its rickety porch.

“Okay”, you begin, twisting your body around so you have both Sam and Dean in your view, “from what we know this is one nasty poltergeist. It's killed two people already, but there could have been more earlier that we don't know about.” You pause your speech to click your fingers in front of Dean's face after seeing he was spaced out. You look at Sam who is grimacing at the volume you're speaking at. Your eyes roll of their own volition at the hungover men. You were hungover too but they wouldn't be catching you carrying on like that.

“We figured out the bones are probably in the basement-”

“Did we?” You ignore Dean's question in favour of continuing.

“-so since Dean needs bablysitting”, you smack his arm in irritation, “he and I will distract it while you salt and burn the bones.” Sam nods at his being addressed.

The plan now confirmed you all exit the car, you being the first on the porch and at the door after grabbing the necessary equipment from the boot. With the men now present you jiggle the doorknob to find it locked. You instruct the men to stand back and after they oblige you raise your leg and send a forceful kick at it. The wood flings open, dramatically slamming into the wall behind it.

“Damn” you hear Sam mutter, causing a smirk to flicker on your lips as you walk into the run down house. With a brief nod and wishes of luck Sam begins searching for an entrance into the basement, you leading the way into the living room.

You begin to yell and taunt, throwing out profanities and insults to draw the beings attention to you, away from Sam.

Sure enough what furniture remains in the room begins to rumble, a few scattered pieces of wood floating into the air.

“Oh is that all you got?” You goad further against Dean's warnings.

Suddenly pieces of wood fly at you and Dean, intent on getting lodged in your skin. You yank Dean to the side as a broken table launches itself at him, shattering against the wall where he had been standing seconds earlier.

“Move!” You decide that drawing the spirit up higher into the house would help distract it from what's happening below, so you push Dean in the direction of the staircase.

As you ascend frames on the wall fly off at you, making you duck and raise your arms over your head.

Room after room objects are flung at you by an invisible force, Dean at one point being flung across the room like a rag doll.

Just as you're sure the toilet is going to be freed from it's plumbing all of the movement halts. You shoot Dean a smile which he reciprocates, both of you thinking Sam had burnt the bones.

A cry sounding through the house makes your smile fall, realising you had falsely assumed Sam successful.

“Y/N wait!” You ignore Dean's plead as you barrel down the staircase and into the basement.

You find Sam crouched in a dirty corner, a woman in a torn white nightgown and scraggly hair standing over him.

“Hey!” The creature whips around to you just as you unholster your gun and fire a salt round through it, the poltergeist disappearing from the impact. You rush to Sam’s side to assess the damage, finding a large cut running down one side of his face no doubt caused by a collision with the wall. You can find no other immediate injury so you set about finishing what Sam started.

The bones laying only a few feet away were already doused with gas and covered in salt, needing only flames to banish this being from the world. You produce your own lighter from your pocket, opening the Zippo and bringing the little orange flame to life with a flick of your thumb.

“Y/N watch out!” You spin around at Dean's voice in the room, coming face to face with the twisted woman from earlier. With a wicked grin you fly from your crouched position and into a neglected set of drawers. Your side hits its edge, knocking the wind out of your lungs as you promptly fall to the ground.

“Y/N!” You look up at Sam who had let out the frightened cry then to Dean who now had the poltergeist fast approaching him . You clench your teeth, letting out determined huffs as you manage to drag yourself across the ground. Just as the woman is about to set herself upon Dean you drop your lighter atop the bones. Her agonising screeches fill the room as she dissolves to ashes in a burst of light. You let yourself fall onto your back, taking in a deep breath as you stare at the ceiling.

None of you speak as you all take in breaths of relief at the case being over. That is, until Dean breaks the silence.

“Holy shit.”

***

Back at the motel Dean has gone out to get dinner and drinks for you all, you opting to stay and clean up the injured younger brother.

The gash running down his face would luckily be fine without stitches but it would need disinfecting and dressed. You pour the rubbing alcohol you had made Dean buy onto a cotton ball, raising your hand to his face.

“Do I need to tell you this is gonna sting?” He smirks at your teasing question.

“I think we're past that now.” He lets out an involuntary hiss at the alcohol touching his open skin, you grimacing at his discomfort.

As you continue to clean his cut and make sure there are no stray splinters hiding in it you become uncomfortably aware of your proximity. He sits at the edge of the bed and you'd pulled up a stray chair, resting between his legs as you work. A blush rises to your cheeks you know you can do nothing to hide, hoping instead he's polite enough not to mention it.

This isn't the first or last time you've been in a position like this with Sam, but after the bar you felt nervous and unsure of yourself. Sure, you both knew how you felt, but being called out for it even as a joke put tension between you. It's like now what had been largely ignored and overlooked was sitting out in front of you, waiting to be acknowledged. You can see his eyes examining your face as you work, only making the tight feeling in your stomach worse.

You release the breath you were holding tightly within your lungs as you pull away from him, tossing the bloodied cotton into the bin by the bed. You give him a tight lipped smile and somewhat awkwardly tap his shoulder a few times before standing from the chair. As you do you involuntarily flinch and stiffen, your side singing out in pain now the adrenaline had worn off. You straighten up slowly and attempt to walk to the bathroom, but one of Sam's strong arms reaches out in front of you as you turn away. He lightly takes a hold of your hip, turning you back around to your prior standing position and lightly placing his other hand on your other hip. The already fast beat of your heart increases at the motion, that dizzy feeling from the bar taking hold of your head yet again.

“You’re hurt.” His voice is hardly above a whisper as he looks up at your face from his still seated position. You shrug your shoulders lightly, trying to appear as unperturbed as possible.

“I’ll be fine.” Your nerves betray the collected front you put on, your voice coming out low and scratchy as the words got caught on their way out of your throat.

“Can I see?” He keeps his voice quiet and soft, the imploring look on his face making you lightly nod at him before breaking eye contact as your cheeks light up. Slowly he removes one of his hands from your hip, trailing it across your stomach en route to your injured side. Keeping his eyes on your face he delicately thumbs the hem of your loose shirt before inching the fabric up painstakingly slow until he uncovers the already darkening patches of purple and yellow scattered across your ribs. Holding your shirt in place with one hand he uses the other to ghost his fingers over the area, his touch so feather light that if you hadn't been looking you wouldn't have known he was even touching you.

Your breaths are shallow now, short and desperate as you try to balance your spinning head and erratic heart.

“That'll take a while to heal”, he finally says in conclusion, releasing your shirt for it to fall back in place as he looks up at your face.

“Sam?” He doesn't break the eye contact, a silent signal for you to continue. With the confusion in your heart and head you had no idea what you were about to say until the words passed your lips. “What are we doing?” He knows exactly what you mean, no trace of confusion crosses his face. Yet he does not answer, unsure of what to say.

“It feels like we've been doing this ‘will they, won't they' dance for years.” The words could have come out confident however your breathy delivery of them steals any conviction the statement could have possessed. “Sometimes it feels like I'm going crazy, picking up on things that aren't there”, you say as you nervously fiddle with the hem of your shirt, giving your eyes something to look at rather than his face as you make your confession.

You can feel his eyes have not once left your face since the start of your conversation. From the edge of your vision you can see a sombre smile on his face as he delicately places his hand over both of your much smaller ones, effectively stilling your nervous occupation.

“You're not going crazy Y/N,” you raise your eyes to meet his expectant ones, your hands still held by his, “it's all there.” This is as close to confessing your unspoken feelings the both of you have ever gotten in your long history, leaving you stranded in unchartered territory. You detach your hands from his and take hold of his forearms, him taking the opportunity to once again place his hands on your hips.

“So what are we doing about it?” Neither of you follow up your question with an answer, too far lost in each other’s gaze to speak. Eventually your stare elicits his response, his eyebrow twitching upwards before he speaks.

“I hadn't planned on doing anything about it.” This time it is him that breaks the eye contact, looking off at the ground as he continues. “I've been afraid. I didn't want you to end up like Jess, or worse.” You take his face in between your hands, guiding his eyes back to you.

“You should know by know I can take care of myself.”

“I do. Hell, you saved me and Dean's asses today.” You both smile at his statement, you letting out a breathy, short laugh.

“So what's stopping us now?” You whisper, flitting your gaze between his eyes and lips.

“Nothing.” He firmly pulls you closer, a shiver running down your spine as you lean in.

He finds your lips with his, your fingers going around the back of his neck and grasping at his hair. You’re surprised your already struggling head and heart haven't given up on you yet as his lips delicately glide against yours, the sensation far better than anything you've conjured in a daydream. You sink into the feeling, enjoying the buzz that's spread over your body and the heat radiating off of him.

In a swift movement he shifts his knees between your legs, pulling you down onto his lap so that you’re straddling him. The kiss becomes more desperate as you both press yourselves tightly against each other, hoping to eliminate any space between you. His hands press into you, travelling from your hips and hungrily up your sides.

With that motion the desperate kiss stops as Sam's hand had a little too forcefully slid over your bruised side, causing you to flinch away and let out a hiss.

“Oh my god I'm sorry, are you alright?” He instantly retracts his hands so he can place them on your face, eyes nervous as they scan yours. You can't help but giggle at his overly worried tone. The passionate haze that had saturated you now slowly ebbs away, leaving behind a contented fog. You nod along with your giggles to ease his worry.

“I'm fine.” He lets out a breathy laugh to accompany yours, moving his hands down to your neck and pulling until your forehead touches his.

You stay like that a while, breathing in each other’s air as you enjoy the embrace that you've both been yearning for in silence.

Your tranquillity is shattered with Dean's arrival as he enters the room, loudly struggling with the takeaways and beer. He stops in his tracks when he notices your position. Both you and Sam were too relaxed to leap into action, sitting there like deer in the headlights.

“A-ha!” He throws his head back at his exclamation as he uses his foot to shut the door. You reluctantly separate from Sam, sitting on the bed beside him instead.

“I knew that sappy song would do the trick”, he boasts as he places the items on the small dining table. You reach across the bed, plucking a pillow from the head and promptly throwing it at the cocky Winchester, hitting him in the chest.

“If you think that had anything to do with you you're deluded as well as idiotic”, you bite.

“Yeah right. If I hadn't done that you guys would still be staring at each other every time the others ones back was turned.”

“Dean!” Sam yells in frustration with his brother, Dean raising his hands in surrender.

“Alright. I gotta get a couple more things from the car, that should give you two enough time to get your panties out of a twist.” Your groans in irritation follow Dean out the door, leaving just you and Sam behind once more.

“We are not letting him have any of the credit", you utter, your eyes still fixed on the door. Sam chuckles beside you, linking your fingers and bringing them up to his face where he places a quick kiss on the back of your hand. You smile at his action, him mirroring your gesture.

“Damn right we're not.”

With that you separate, Sam going to help Dean bring stuff in while you decide to go and be the first to indulge in a nice, hot shower.

From the bathroom you can hear Dean's continual bragging of his skills as a matchmaker. You scoff to yourself with a roll of your eyes, knowing he's completely wrong.

Credit needs to go where credit is due. While it may have taken a lot longer than you'd like, you and Sam are finally together, making you the happiest you can ever recall being.

The credit for that belongs solely to the two of you.

*********

Taglist

@musiclovinchic93 @hobby27

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester reader insert #sam winchester one shot #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester imagine #spn #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural one shot #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #writing #mine #too many baes

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jjk-emotrash · 5 years

Text

Blood and Gasoline - Chapter 11

Type: Mafia!AU

Group/s: Mainly BTS, Got7, Blackpink

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (OC), Jikook x Reader (OC)

Safety: NSFW

Warnings (Whole Fic): Swearing, Violence, Prostitution, Misogyny/Anti-Feminist Views, Torture, Smut, Non-Con/Rape, Death, SOME Fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

Masterlist

As she left the house, Y/N made sure to grab her purse and phone. After calling a taxi into town, the first place she visited was the club, but she found nobody there. The building was deadly silent and eerie, the top of the bar in need of a dusting and empty glasses left on the tables around the perimeter of the room. Getting out of the club as fast as she could to continue her search, Y/N wandered around the town and looked in the windows of all the bars and diners in town to see if she could see the two men.

Eventually, after an hour of searching she found the pair sat in an old seedy looking bar in the outskirts of town. Just entering the building put Y/N on edge, but she persisted and walked in. The bar smelled damp, smoke and alcohol mixing in with the thick scent of the building. A group of middle-aged men sat near the door smoking and playing poker; one of the men, who was built like brick wall, eyed Y/N up and down with a sickening smirk. The walls were wood lined with paint peeling off and the floorboards creaked beneath her feet as she took in her surroundings, anxiety rising in her chest.

“You alright love? You look a bit lost.” Asked a man with a thick accent, dressed in a yellowing shirt and grey trousers with braces hanging from his hips, stopping her in her tracks.

“Yeah, I’m just looking for two people…” Y/N answered anxiously, slowly edging away from the man.

“Well I’m the manager and bartender of the joint, what do they look like I might have served them?” he spoke and sat on the edge of an unsteady looking table.

“It’s actually those two over there, sat by the bar.” Y/N replied and pointed at her friends, slump.

“Ah, they showed up at about two this morning,” the man scoffed and stood to walk away, letting her go to the boys, “I would’ve kicked ‘em out but they kept paying for drinks an’ I can’t afford to refuse service right now.”

Y/N started walking over to the two men when the group that was sat by the door suddenly blocked her path, circling her. She kindly asked them to let her through, but they wouldn’t budge; she asked again, more firmly this time, but still they wouldn’t move.

“Please, I’ve asked you twice already. Let me through.” Y/N persisted, starting to become more anxious by the second.

“Why should we? Personally, I think you should come with us, beautiful.” One man with shaggy brown hair and a deep voice answered and proceeded to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand.

“Don’t touch me.” She protested and fought back. His other hand slipped around her back and slapped her ass. Wiggling out of his grip and trying to remember everything Jackson had taught her about fighting, “Let me go!”. To the huddle of men’s shock, Y/N landed a swift kick to her harasser’s temple. Making the rest of the group jump away from her.

“What the fuck?! You bitch!” with his head and ego bruised, the man lunged for her but was suddenly held back.

“I believe the lady asked you not to touch her.” An all too familiar voice sounded in Y/N’s ears. Jimin. She could see that the man in her friends grasp stiffened at the sound of his voice, fear flooding his eyes.

“If I were you, I’d back off before she kicks you again.” Jungkook added clapping the offender on the shoulder. “Wouldn't you agree lads?” He asked the other men with a smirk. It seemed that the group of men were eerily familiar with the pair as they immediately backed away and left the bar.

“Apologise.” Jimin said to the man, whipping his gun out of his pocket and pressing it to his back and he quickly obeyed, looking to Y/N for help.

“I’m sorry, honestly I am, please just tell them to let me go.”

Taking the opportunity to scare the man more, actually starting to enjoy herself, she did something that made the man gulp. “Hmmm, I'm not sure I forgive you.” She said walking closer to the restrained man, “What do you think Jimin, Jungkook - does he really deserve forgiveness?”

“We should kill him for even laying a single finger on you Y/N.” Jimin growled and almost reduced the man to tears in fear. “But I think he's learned his lesson not to touch a woman without her consent. Haven't you?”

The man quickly nodded and pleaded for forgiveness, practically sobbing that he wouldn't ever do it again. The once intimidating figure was now a trembling mess before her.

She leaned in close before whispering her forgiveness, then fisted her hand in the front of his shirt and stepping closer, “But I swear, if you ever lay a much as a finger on another unwilling person, I will become your personal poltergeist.” Y/N hissed at the man earning a smirk from the boys. The man nodded and whispered one final word to him, “Run.”

The man fled the bar immediately after, leaving Y/N alone with Jimin and Jungkook.

“Hey…” Y/N said shyly, unsure of what to say after the scene she had caused.

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook asked gruffly, his voice thick and stinking of whiskey.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Y/N replied and crinkled her nose at the overwhelming stench of whiskey washing over the pair that she hadn't noticed before “It’s barely three in the afternoon, you both stink.”

Now they were alone in the bar, she had the chance to fully take in their appearances. The pair graced matching dark circles and messy hair, suit jackets off, shirts untucked and ties loose. Rough, would be an understatement.

“I’d much rather be here than at the mansion and have to see you and Yoongi fawning over one another.” Jimin answered bitterly, his eyes turning dark – the previous protectiveness in his eyes fading.

“Well you don’t have to worry about that. It seems like he only wanted to have sex with me to piss the two of you off. He never actually wanted me for me, at least I think he did. He treated me like another conquest instead of a person in front of the boys when we went downstairs this morning. I should've known better than to trust him like that. It was a mistake.” Y/N answered. The words lifting a weight off her chest as she realised that she had been manipulated.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Jungkook muttered angrily as Jimin clenched his jaw, silently fuming.

“Guys calm down. He didn’t force me into it, you don’t need to go in guns blazing.” Y/N pushed the boys back with a palm on each of their chests, stopping them in their tracks of heading out of the bar. “It’s not going to happen again. And I’m going to tell him as much when we get back. Just please, come home. I was worried about you when I went downstairs, and you were nowhere to be found...”

Jimin sighed and ran his fingers through his messy hair to calm himself then placed the other hand on top of hers. “I’m sorry that we made you worried Y/N, but you have to understand how horrible it was for us to hear you two going at it last night.” His voice broke slightly, and his voice lowered to a whisper “You do know my room is directly below his?”

“I…didn’t know that at all, Jimin…” Y/N gulped and looked down at her feet in shame.

“Hey?” Jimin said softly and lifted her head back up with two fingers, he hated seeing her upset in any form. “It’s not your fault, I’m just jealous that it wasn’t me.”

“Amen to that,” Jungkook added with a snort and circled his arm around her waist. “Well at least we know what she’s into now.” He joked with a smirk earning himself a laugh from Jimin and a light slap to the chest from Y/N.

“Thank you, by the way, for helping me out with those guys.” Y/N smiled at the two boys, happy everything was somewhat normal again.

“You don't need to thank us honey, besides you were doing pretty well on your own. That was a damn good kick.” Jungkook replied making Y/N grin with pride. Jimin then cleared his throat and straightened himself out before extending a hand towards Y/N. She took it with a giggle.

“Our dearest Y/N,” Jimin started in a fake ‘posh’ tone, “would you do us the honour of allowing us to treat you to dinner tonight?”

“Charming as always, Jimin...” Y/N giggled making the man smirk, before replying to his request in a similar tone, “I would be delighted to spend the evening dining with the pair of you.”

“M’lady,” Jungkook offered his arm for Y/N to take. The pair escorted her out of the bar then payed for the taxi ride back to the mansion.

The second they stepped through the door, the trio were bombarded with questions. The two men just laughed at the group’s excitable nature, Y/N on the other hand started to back away and bumped into the two men’s chests behind her. Jimin immediately placed a protective hand on her waist and Jungkook kissed the crown of her head gently making the men surrounding them back off a little, but the group completely dispersed when the gruff voice of Min Yoongi sounded from behind the group.

“What a touching display of affection, now hands off her.” Yoongi strode through the group with a deadly calm face.

“No,” Jungkook replied instantly, “you don’t get to decide who wants to be with. That’s up to Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N darling, who is it that you want to spend the evening with?” Yoongi stroked her cheek gently, making her eyes flutter closed at the soft gesture. But she quickly snapped out of it, remembering how he manipulated her into making the men flanking her jealous.

“I’m spending the evening with Jimin and Jungkook, Sir. And nothing you say, or do, will make me change my mind.” Y/N told him in a sickly sweet voice that made Yoongi growl in anger slightly, before addressing the rest of the gang “Now if you’ll all excuse me I’m going to go have a bath. If any of you interrupt me in the next few hours, I will not hesitate to punch you in the gut. Are we clear?” She heard both Jimin and Jungkook snicker behind her as the group of men facing her nodded slowly in surprise and slight fear – Yoongi could only glare. Y/N then turned to the two men behind her. “I’ll be ready for 7:30, meet me back here then?”

“Your wish is our command,” Jimin said with a smirk and leaned in to kiss her cheek softly before whispering, “Enjoy your bath princess.”

Jimin walked away with Jungkook in tow, the younger winking at Y/N as he non-too-subtly brushed past. The rest of the gang walked away in bewilderment, Namjoon blinking in shock at the scene he had witnessed. When he met Y/N’s eye, he blushed furiously and looked away before he too disappeared into the house. Only Y/N and Yoongi were left standing in the foyer. Y/N nodded at him curtly and started to walk away.

“What changed?” Yoongi suddenly asked, stopping Y/N in her tracks. With a sigh she turned to face him.

“Why did you fuck me knowing full-well that Jimin and Jungkook liked me, and that their bedrooms are directly beneath ours? You knew they would hear us Yoongi! You knew that it would drive them crazy and that they’d leave.” Y/N exploded, all of her thoughts and feeling on full display. There was no going back now.

He replied, his eyes becoming softer as he saw just how much his actions hurt her. “I wasn’t thinking properly, and I know that it’s no excuse, I just wanted to show them that you were mine - because I want you to be mine Y/N. And only mine, no one else’s. I’m selfish, I’ll admit that, and what I did was wrong and I’m sorry that I ended up hurting you in the process, that was never my intention.”

“But you don’t mind hurting your brothers? Yoongi that’s fucked up. I really did like you, honestly I think I still do. But I’m not sure that I want to be with you if that’s how you’re going to behave.” Y/N said, defeated. He reached out for her, but she just shook her head with a sigh and looked away.

“Good luck with your date with the boys tonight. As much as I hope it was me taking you out on the town tonight, I want you to be happy here. And if they make you happy, then so be it.” Yoongi said stiffly, trying to stay calm. Y/N knew that he was struggling here so gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“Thank you, Yoongi.” She smiled softly at him before turning on her heel and heading upstairs to start getting ready. When Y/N entered her bedroom, she threw herself down face first on the bed and hugged her pillow, thinking about what she should do. Her head was reeling with all the thoughts running wild. Perking up, she decided to call Lisa to help her get ready, and to talk everything over.

“Lisa? Can you come round, I need your help.” Y/n asked as soon as the red-head answered the phone.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

Lisa arrived nine minutes later, and immediately ran upstairs to Y/N’s bedroom and burst through the door. Y/N engulfed her friend in a tight hug.

“Are you okay? That call had me worried…” Lisa mumbled into Y/N’s shoulder. Y/N nodded and pulled away to look Lisa in the eye.

“Me and Yoongi had sex.” Y/N stated bluntly, getting straight to the point.

“What?!” Lisa exclaimed and gripped onto Y/N’s shoulders. “Okay back, tell me everything.”

“Okay first of all ow, your claws are hurting my biceps.” Y/N said with a smile making Lisa giggle and release Y/N from her vice grip. “Secondly, I errm…yeah we fucked.” Y/n walked over to the bed and laid down. “I made a mistake, he only fucked me to make Jimin and Jungkook pissed cause their bedrooms are beneath ours and they could hear everything, and they basically ran away to a dingy bar and got hammered when they could hear us fucking above them. When I found them, they had sobered up a bit but still stunk of whiskey. Anyway, they asked me out on a kind of date tonight and now Yoongi’s pissed at them but wants me to be happy and I’m so fucking confused.”

“Damn, girl.” Lisa laid on her side next to Y/n and stroked her hair gently. “So, what are you gonna do?”

“Well I’m going on the date. But what should I do if they take things further?” Y/N turned to face Lisa only to see Lisa smirking.

“Honey, if you get the chance to have a ménage à trois with Jimin and Jungkook – fucking take it. If only so you can tell me what they’re like in bed.”

“Oh my god Lisa!” Y/N laughed and rolled back onto her back. “Won’t that make me kind of a hoe, you know three guys in 24 hours?”

“Oh it’d make you a complete hoe, but what’s wrong with that? If guys can get away with fucking around so can we. We deserve to have some fun too. Trust me, if I was in your position I’d pounce on them the second we got in the-” Lisa was cut off by Y/n’s hand covering her mouth with a smile.

“I get it!” Y/N laughed Lisa licked her hand slightly with a wink making Y/N pull her hand away instantly, “For fucks sake, Lisa!”

Feeling playful and wanting cheer Y/N up more, Lisa rolled over to straddle Y/n and kissed Y/n fully on the mouth. Y/N squeaked and pinched Lisa’s thigh gently. Lisa pulled away with her tongue between her teeth and a twinkle in her eye. Y/N giggled and rolled them over so Lisa was underneath Y/n and started to tickle her abdomen.

“Shit! Y/N stop!” Lisa spluttered out through loud laughs and managed to pull Y/N off her. Unfortunately, they didn’t see how close they were to the end of the bed and they both crashed to the floor in a fit of hysterics, limbs tangled together. Y/N kissed Lisa on the nose making her giggle and scrunch up her face cutely.

“You know, if things don’t work out with the guys maybe we should give it a shot.” Y/N mused, half-jokingly with a small giggle.

Lisa giggled as well and kissed Y/N once more on the lips, pulling Y/N closer with a manicured hand on the nape of her neck. The girls had kissed before at the club when tipsy and had fooled around on multiple nights when Jisoo and Jennie went out on a date, so this was almost normal for the two close friends. Over time they had become almost like friends with benefits – no strings attached. They detached with giggles and rose to their feet.

“I’m gonna go take a bath,” Y/N asked with a grin, “wanna choose me something to wear?”

Y/N bathed peacefully as she hummed absentmindedly, thinking of all the many things Jungkook and Jimin could have planned for her. Meanwhile, Lisa carefully studied her friends wardrobe for a dress before settling on a simple but sexy little black dress and some red heels to match the lipstick she had chosen. Once Y/N was dried and dressed, makeup applied and hair parser styled, a flurry of butterflies erupted in the pit of her stomach.

"Lisa? Am I mad for doing this?" Y/N asked as she put her phone in a black and gold accented clutch.

"No of course not. What makes you ask that?" Lisa bewilderedly replied from her spot on the bed.

"I don't know...I just, even though Yoongi hurt me I don't want to upset him...and going on this date might just jeopardise whatever it was we had."

"It won't." The answering voice didn't belong to that of her best friend, but of the man in question. Turning on her heel, Y/N saw Yoongi stood in the doorframe.

"I'll leave you two be." Lisa said as Y/N and Yoongi locked eyes, giving her friends hands a squeeze before exciting the room.

"You look beautiful, Y/N." The compliment left his lips softly, barely audible. "May I enter?"

"You may."

He sits on the bed and reveals and black velvet box from behind his back. "I got you something."

"You can't buy me back with jewellery."

"I'm not trying to." his eyes are soft as he gazes at the woman in front of him and reaches out for her to take a seat next to him on the bed. She concedes. He opens the box to reveal a diamond choker, taking her breath away. "I had this picked out ready for your birthday but I thought that now is a good a time as any other. Especially after my previous actions."

"I...I can't accept this..." Y/N manages to treat her eyes away from the stunning choker to look at him.

"Yes, you can. What I told you last night and this morning remains to be true. I care deeply for you, all I want is your happiness. If that means you being with Jungkook, or Jimin, or hell even both - I will not stand in your way. All I want right now is your forgiveness. And for you to wear this tonight, a piece as beautiful as this deserves to be worn by someone worthy of its beauty. And you more than qualify."

"Okay," Y/N replies softly with a mood before turning around for him to place it around her neck. Once the clap was sealed, she turned back to face him. A sorrowful look adorned his features, trying and failing to mask it.

"You have two gentlemen waiting for you downstairs, I shouldn't keep you from them any longer." Yoongi says as he stands and makes his way to the shared bathroom to get to his our bedroom.

"Yoongi," Y/N calls as he pauses, "I forgive you." he says nothing, walking through the doorway and closing it behind him.

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eternityunicorn · 5 years

Text

Remember Me? - Part Six - Finale +18

Author: eternityunicorn

Genre: Romance/Drama/AU

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x OC

Warnings: Violence, Smut (*Smut chapters marked +18)

Summary: Set in TO Season 5 - Elijah Mikaelson didn’t know who he was, but he had stopped searching for answers. Instead, of trying to discover his true identity, he settled in a small village in the south of France, spending his days as a musician. Then a mysterious woman begins to show up, night after night, to drive him insane, when he refuses to return to his old life with her. However, his course is set as he learns more about the woman and the past he left behind, leading him down an emotional path of infidelity, betrayal, and heartbreak. Can he ever put the broken pieces back together?

NOTE: OC and original elements are from my up and coming novel series!

AUTHOR’S COMMENTARY: This is the last chapter! I decided to post it early for the sake of some of my favorite readers (you know who you are). I decided to have mercy on your souls or tear them to shreds, depending on what I have in store below. So, I hope you enjoy this final section of this emotional fic. Will there be a happy ending? Will there not? You’ll just have to find out.

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Later that night, once he had finally calmed, Elijah emerged from the broken study. He went to the common room for a change of scenery. Once there, he collapsed into one of the armchairs that sat before fireplace, of which flickered with the light of a fire. Elijah reached for a glass that sat beside the chair and poured a bit of bourbon into it, as he watched the flames dance numbly.

He was sure that Eternity was gone once more and that his daughter would never look at him kindly ever again either. How had things gotten so out of hand? He had to wonder.

However, regarding the former, Elijah was quickly proven wrong, as the ethereal beauty came slowly into the room, coming to sit in the other armchair. He pretended he hadn’t noticed her, as he glanced curiously at her out of the corner of his eye. She had winced and groaned slightly as she sat down. Then there was the flash of bruising around her neck that was still evident from when he had choked her, markings that were an ugly reminder of his lost control. But what was odd was that they were still there at all, having not healed supernaturally as they should have.

Just what was going on with her? He wondered. She had been dead on her feet with her otherworldliness faded before. Now it seemed she was sore and not healing. It was deeply concerning, but the Original had chosen not to mention it as of yet.

They sat there together in silence, each watching the fire. It seemed as though neither of them knew what to say after their abhorrent behavior earlier. Tension was great between them. It was so thick, in fact, that Elijah could almost taste it.

“I’m surprised that you’re still here,” Eternity murmured at last without any malice and without looking at him.

“I could say the same thing about you,” he replied quietly, as his sipped from his drink, not looking at her.

She sighed, as she sank back into the chair, “I stayed for Ari, something that I shall be doing for a while at the very least. I tried to comfort her, but that poor girl is inconsolable. She’s in so much pain. We’ve been so thoughtless of our daughter - careless. The darkness has truly infiltrated everything and everyone here, because we let it...because I let it.” She snorted slightly, “Some agent of light I am.”

Elijah said nothing in return, unsure of what to say.

“I’m supposed to be better than the darkness, wise enough to not be so easily dragged down into it,” Eternity carried on. “I should have handled this whole situation better. In fact, I had every intention to, when I was finally able to come find you in France. I was understanding and sympathetic of your decision to erase your memories for the sake of your family, but I was also hurt, and therefore, angered by it. I let the latter negative emotions take hold and from there, everything slow spiraled into...this.” She gestured between them, “And so here we are: broken.”

“Broken implies that there is something that can be fixed,” he responded finally, glancing at her, noticing the way she closed her eyes for a long time and then slowly opened them with some difficulty. It appeared as if she hadn’t heard him at all and he found himself worried, “What’s wrong, Sweetheart?”

Eternity immediately sat up a little straighter and tried to act as normally as possible, as she smiled weakly, “It’s nothing. I am only dying.”

Immediately, he sat up in alarm, “What?”

“It’s not in the literal sense,” she explained. “As you know, an immortal’s emotions are heightened. We feel things at a more profound level than mortals. For those from beyond the stars, our emotions are attached to our physical being. Therefore, our emotions can affect us physically. Right now, I feel dead and lifeless, emotionally speaking. Because of how strong that feeling is, it is manifesting physically, dampening my ability to function, to heal, to live. Talk about overdramatic, right?” She gave him a small wry smile, a short laugh escaping her.

Elijah was very concerned and he felt very guilty. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he said remorsefully. “I have done this terrible evil to you.”

Eternity laughed slightly again, “No, I did this to myself, when I chose to let the darkness in, when I let the negativity of our situation get the better of me. I should have known better. Yet, I’ve let evil destroy everything that I love and now, I am dealing with the consequences of that choice.”

“But -.”

“Elijah, it’s alright,” she reassured him. “I’ll be fine...eventually. Don’t worry about me. Heartbreak doesn’t last forever, after all.”

Elijah swallowed thickly, a lump forming in his throat at how resigned to her fate she was. She put blame on herself, but the blame she had put on him earlier was just as valid, just as true. They were both at fault, both having made foolish choices that had lead them to this point. They were both responsible for this...for the state she was in.

“We’re both fools, it would seem,” he said emotionally. “Acting as we never should have, as if we weren’t ancient beings who know better than to behave so abhorrently. We’ve made grievous errors, but there is still time to repair the damage, to act as we should have all along. We can fix what we broke.”

“What of the lady that awaits your arrival?” Eternity asked him without accusation or jealousy or any negative emotion at all - just as an inquiry.

Elijah dismissed her question, “Antoinette isn’t my wife. In fact, she shouldn’t be anything to me at all. Not to sound cruel, but it is unfortunate that she has meant something to me. Regardless, you are still my priority, no matter what has happened. I love you, I swore to be committed to you always, and I want to be with you. I want to fix this, if you do.”

She smiled softly, “Yes, Elijah, of course I want to. I’m so sorry for my role in all this. I love you more than anything, despite everything that has gone on. My love for you hasn’t diminished. I want to be with you too - you and little Ari.”

The emotional, hope filled moment carried him away then and he was out of his chair, pulling Eternity from hers to gather her in his arms. He kissed her passionately, with all the emotions he was feeling. She reciprocated eagerly, but then her legs gave out and he had to hold her up or else she would have collapsed to the floor.

Knowing she needed rest, the Original picked her up into his arms and carried her away to their bedroom. He laid her in the big bed, tucking her in with the intention of leaving her to sleep, when she caught his hand before he could get far.

“Stay with me, Elijah,” she murmured. “Just hold me tonight.”

Elijah smiled, “As you wish, Sweetheart.”

He proceeded to undress from his constrictive suit, taking his clothes off quickly until he was in nothing but his boxers. Then, after he folded up his formalwear, he went to the dresser to grab a pair of pajama bottoms, putting them on and then came back to bed, climbing in beside Eternity.

She immediately cuddled close, resting her head on his chest, while he put his arm around her. Elijah stroked her hair with slow affection, smiling slightly at her desire to be close to him, especially after everything that had happened. He had thought she would still need space, but it seemed she had experienced enough separation to last a life time. He knew he felt that way himself.

Before long, Eternity was asleep in his arms and he soon followed, happy to have his wife back in his arms, where he was determined to keep her this time.

The days that followed were brighter than before. Elijah and his lady spent every moment possible together with their daughter. At first, Ari had been wary of their promise to remain as a family, after they each apologized profusely over the discourse she had witnessed, but the girl was slowly warming up to the idea with each passing day. They all spent their time playing games, teaching Ari the piano, and how to use her ever growing powers, just as they had been before. Though this time without all the negativity and tension.

Even Niklaus had finally forgiven him for his poor decisions, welcoming him back to the Mikaelson fold. His other siblings welcomed him also, sooner than the hybrid. All of them had been simply glad to see that everything was on the men, especially where Eternity and Ari were concerned.

Pretty soon, the darkness that had looked over everything had begun to fade until it felt like nothing more than a bad dream. Life became as it should have been all along - happy and peaceful with an unbreakable together. After how big this past storm had been, Elijah was confident that whatever new storms might brew, they wouldn’t ever be strong enough to break his bond with his wife, his child, or his siblings.

Antoinette never tried to call or text him in those passing weeks. Elijah surmised she had known that he wasn’t coming after all and had known better than to try contacting him.

Despite this return to peace and harmony, the Original and his lady had yet to resume the sexual side of their relationship. However, he didn’t feel as though he had to rush into it, as she provided him with her affections, letting him be close to her as she hadn’t before. The barriers had come down. There was nothing holding them back, except for their own desire to take their time, to enjoy each other as they were - together.

Then one night, Elijah set up a rather romantic spot in front of the fireplace in their bedroom without expecting anything. He was simply in possession of her wedding ring with the plan to put back on her finger where it belonged; nothing more, nothing less. He laid out a blanket with a bottle of wine, two wine glasses, and a small bowl of fruits to snack on. When Eternity entered the room, he was waiting there with an invitation to join him.

The ethereal beauty smiled warmly as she came to join him, sitting gracefully beside him. She had regained her luster, shimmering and shinning brightly as she once had. Her fatigue had gone since they had solidified their decision to reunite instead of separate. She kissed him sweetly, sitting close to him, as she took in the display of romance.

“You have outdone yourself, Mr. Mikaelson,” Eternity grinned. “This is lovely.”

“Well, Mrs. Mikaelson,” he responded, taking out the sapphire and diamond wedding ring from his inner jacket pocket and presenting it to her, “I wanted tonight to be particularly romantic as I returned this to you.”

She looked at the ring and then at him, before she held out her left hand to him, allowing him to slide the ring back on her finger. “You kept it,” she said, as she admired the piece of jewelry that he put on her hand.

Elijah nodded, “Of course.”

Overwhelmed with emotions, Eternity threw herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him passionately. Things grew heated quickly, especially as the immortal queen’s tongue swept into his mouth to taste him throughly.

He held onto her, cupping the side of her neck, while his other hand caressed down her back. His desire rose rapidly, the more they kissed erotically. He wanted her, after not having her for so long.

Then his wife tugged on his neck, pulling him with her as she laid back onto the blanket, until he was laying over her. His hands ran over her clothed body, while her limbs wrapped around him tightly. Their mouths never left each other, both having missed this part of their relationship, more than they realized.

Parting for breath, Eternity nuzzled his neck affectionately, as she whispered in his ear, “I’ve missed you, Elijah. I want you.”

He stroked her hair as he whispered back to her, “I missed you too, Sweetheart, more than you know. Heaven knows, I want you too. As always, I crave you with everything I am.”

Eternity pulled back to gaze at him with such profound emotion. There was love and joy, mixed with her desire for him. She smiled softly at him, “I love you, Mr. Mikaelson.”

She kissed him again sweetly, with all her pent up passion coursing through her.

“I love you more than anything, Sweetheart. Will you let me make love to you tonight, Mrs. Mikaelson?” Elijah asked her in a quiet rumble, with a desire all his own burning in his gaze - and all his love for her too.

The immortal queen smiled seductively. “Aye. Please, Elijah,” she breathed lustfully.

Immediately, the Original’s mouth claimed Eternity’s in fiery, needful passion. His tongue pried her mouth open and dove inside to taste her hungrily. It had been so long - too long - since he had last been with his lady and he had every intention in making up for lost time...as soon as possible.

Simultaneous with his kiss, he lifted the floral dress she wore to run his hands over her bare skin beneath, enjoying the feel of the soft flesh he found there. His hands caressed her with tender urgency, while she moaned and squirmed from his touch.

“Oh, have I missed you, Elijah,” repeated Eternity breathlessly, as his mouth left hers to trail along her jaw and then down the column of her throat.

Elijah nipped at her skin, causing her to gasp and moan pleasurably. Her hips bucked into his as she clung to him. His need for her was great. He craved her, hungered for her, like the starved man he truly was. The scent of her arousal that began to permeate the air did nothing to dampen his nearly painful need for his wife.

Wanting her naked, he gathered the flimsy fabric of her dress and tore it from her body, so that his hands had complete access to her soft and flawless flesh. Once the offending material was dealt with, his hands proceeded to run over all the smooth softness he could reach again, before reaching between their bodies to touch the slickness between her legs.

He groaned needfully as he felt the wet heat there, dipping two fingers inside and thrusting them slowly to collect the nectar she produced upon his digits. He watched intensely as Eternity’s face contorted with the pleasure his touch brought her.

“It seems you have miss me, Sweetheart,” Elijah smirked, his voice gruff with his lust. “You’re so wet for me and I've barely touched you.”

“Yes,” she gasped in response, as she bucked into his hand. “Please...more!”

“As my lady wishes,” He panted against her lips, before he kissed her hotly again.

However because The Original enjoyed the way his wife gasped and moaned his name, while her hips bucked at his touch, desiring more, he carried on teasing her. He grinned wolfishly against her neck as he did, stroking her until she was a panting mess and then backing off, only to do the same thing over again just to drive her mad.

“Elijah,” Eternity growled warningly in his ear, upon realizing his teasing game.

He only chuckled and didn’t cease in his determination to make her crazy.

In a twist, his lady pushed him away from her with her superior strength, making him sit up. She pushed him into a seated position, following and climbing into his lap. She reached for him, pulling herself against him bodily. She grabbed the sides of his face in her tiny hands and kissed him, dipping his tongue into his mouth as she rocked her hips into his. Then pulling back, she began the process of taking his clothes off his body.

Eternity’s hands worked deftly in pulling his gray suit jacket off him, then his tie from around his neck. She undid the buttons of his black waistcoat and pulled that from him too. Her little hands moved furiously as she next attacked the buttons of his dress shirt, nearly tearing it from his body once she had all the buttons undone.

His wife’s mouth immediately descended upon his skin, trailing from his jaw, down his throat, and then across his chest. Her hands ran over his exposed flesh too, following her lips.

Elijah watched with fascination as she did this, before he pulled her mouth to his again, kissing her hotly with the need to join their bodies consuming him. He pushed her back onto the blanket, excited on many levels to finally be with her as he had so many times before in the past, after having been parted for so long.

As he laid her down, he hovered over her, kissing and nipping her skin while his hand reached down to undo his pants. He pushed them out of the way just enough to release himself from the confines. Then without warning, he thrusted inside Eternity, making her gasp in surprise loudly. He groaned at the feeling of being joined with her, as her walls encased him perfectly.

The ethereal beauty wrapped her appendages around him, holding onto him tightly, as he began to move brutally inside her, lost to his feral passion for her already. She panted and pleaded with him, lost to the same wild need he was. Her nails raked his back as she climbed higher in pleasure beneath him, causing Elijah to hiss and issue an animalistic growl.

As he rocked into her faster and harder than before, his vampire visage appeared on instinct. He lunged at her throat, letting his fangs sink into her neck, where he drank in her sweet blood that empowered him. She clung to him even tighter, her walls fluttering around him and then clamping down in a sudden orgasm from his bitting her. She shouted into the air as her body seized in pleasure beneath him.

“Elijah!” Eternity screamed as she came, cradling his head against her tightly.

Elijah didn’t cease in his movements, thrusting into her through her orgasm, letting his body rise even higher in pleasure until he too was coming. He tore his mouth away from her neck as he shouted and moaned while he orgasmed, spilling into her. He stilled and rested against her, nuzzling her neck affectionately as he came down from his pleasure high.

“More, Elijah, more,” the immortal woman groaned needfully, soon after her orgasm faded. “It’s not enough. More!”

Elijah chuckled as he lifted himself off her, rising to kneel between her parted legs. He stared down at her with renewed lust, admiring her flushed form and the scent of their sexual encounter that was teasing his nose. He also enjoyed the way she squirmed beneath his heated gaze.

“Please,” she breathed, her hands running over her flesh enticingly. “I need more.”

He smirked at her, pulling her up and into his lap. He kissed her slowly, erotically, as he helped her move into position over his still hard cock. Then he pulled back and watched her face as she sank down on him, taking him back into her body.

They both groaned at the sensation of being rejoined, closing their eyes for a moment to savor the feeling. It was they began to rock together, moving in perfect sync that heir eyes reopened to gaze at each other lovingly. Soon their mouths reconnected to mimic the movements of their lower bodies.

They took their time, moving together unhurriedly, but with the same passion as before. The climb in pleasure was slower in it’s build. They simply enjoyed being together, joined in body as they were in soul.

“I love you, Sweetheart,” Elijah murmured to her, breathless from kissing her and from the exertion. “I love you so much.”

Eternity smiled and kissed him, “And I you, my love, and I you.”

Slowly, the pleasure grew unto, they were moving together rapidly, panting and moaning needfully. They were soon lost to their need for completion. Then finally, it happened for a second time and they were coming together with muffled shouts as their mouths melded together hotly, drowning out their cries as their bodies seized with pleasure.

Elijah sat there as he held his wife to him in the afterglow. They embraced tightly as they came down from their highs, as their capacity for normal breathing returned. He ran his hands over her back, while she played with his hair at the black of his head, running her fingers through the short locks.

“Never shall we part again,” Eternity murmured randomly. “Nothing can separate us now.”

“No, nothing,” he agreed with a smile. “We are truly always and forever.”

For the rest of the night and well into the following morning, Elijah and his wife made love, until exhaustion forced them to sleep. From that moment on, the Original and the immortal queen remained together, no matter what came next. No matter what trials came, their bond would forever remain unbroken. Nothing could part them, not even death itself...for they were eternal.

The End

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Tag List: @elejah-wonderland @dendrite-lover @inmylifeilovedthemall @hawaiianohana31 @x-memi12 @esclisa @xanderling @elizamonet @missnmikealson @elejahforever @freshsuitcasewinnereagle @loulouisa @teekillerin @lolelijahishot

#elijah mikaelson #daniel gillies #original characters #elijah x eternity #elijah x antoinette #romance #drama #alternate universe #sad story #the originals #the originals fanfiction #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction

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dancingwithdylan21 · 6 years

Text

The Truth Comes Out

Summary: The reader’s quiet night at home is interrupted when Dylan shows up looking bruised and bloody.

Pairing: Dylan x Reader

Word Count: 2,307

“Thank god I live alone.” You grumble to yourself, thankful no one’s around to witness your behavior. You’re lazily sitting on your kitchen counter in a ridiculous onesie stuffing your face.

You twist open an Oreo, put a scoop of chocolate ice cream then add whipped cream and chocolate syrup. While singing along to the radio, you smoosh the Oreo back together and shove it into your mouth.

You’re really baffled as to why you’re not married yet. Your boyfriend would be crazy to not lock down all of this sexiness. Realizing it’s almost time for a new episode of Scandal, you make your way towards the couch.

You freeze when you hear someone fumbling with the lock on your front door. This is just fucking perfect. A creep is breaking into your apartment and on top of it, you’re gonna die wearing a onesie.

You run back into the kitchen, grab a large knife then move towards the door. This is such a bad idea. Most people would call 911 right about now but not you. You decide to check it out for yourself.

The sound is now suspiciously gone, making you feel annoyed at this whole ordeal. You stupidly swing open the door and you’re shocked by what you see.

“Holy shit! What happened?!” Your best friend is barely standing looking bruised and bloody in front of you.

“Ice.” Dylan groans ignoring your question as he stumbles into your apartment.

“Ok. Go sit down.”

“What’s with the knife?”

“It sounded like someone was breaking in!” You huff stalking into the kitchen.

“I tried unlocking it with my key but no luck.” He mumbles falling on to your couch.

“Here.” You hand him an ice pack and place a cold glass of water in front of him.

“Can’t I have a beer?” He whines glaring at the glass of water.

“No.”

“Stupid.” He mutters under his breath.

“Damn, Dyl.” You sigh studying his split lip.

“I look sexy, huh.” He jokes before dragging his hand down his face.

“You must have a concussion.” You tease making him chuckle.

“Well?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it, Y/N.” He replies stubbornly.

“Dylan O’Brien! Don’t make me kick your ass. We both know I could win right now.” You scowl at the stubborn man.

“But Y/N…”

“Dylan.”

“I’ll explain but can I just rest first?” He begs giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

“How did you get here?”

“Tyler. He wanted to come up but I told him to go home.” You nod your head, wondering what the hell is going on.

“Ughhh.” Dylan moans as he tries to take off his jacket.

“You look like shit.” You frown staring at the fresh blood on his face, knuckles and clothes.

“You should’ve seen the other guy.” He boasts before coughing and clutching his stomach.

“Maybe we should get you to the hospital, buddy. Looks like you bruised some ribs. They could be broken.” You add wearily.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Y/N. I’m fine. Plus you’re a nurse so there’s no point.”

“I’m sure you need X-rays or something. Maybe I should call Tyler.” You mumble nervously, you’re not strong enough to lug the dumb ass there yourself.

“If I’m not better by tomorrow then I’ll go, ok?”

You’re about to push the issue but get distracted by your Justin Timberlake ringtone. You glance at your phone and see your boyfriend’s name flashing.

“It’s Mike. He’s home sick. I better get this.”

“No! Don’t answer it!” Dylan shouts sending him into a coughing fit.

“What the hell was that?” You demand feeling completely out of the loop.

“Do you trust me?” Your best friend asks already knowing the answer.

“Obviously. Why?” He’s about to reply but grumbles when your phone starts ringing again.

“Don’t pick it up, Y/N. Please.” Dylan pleads, the seriousness in his voice is freaking you out.

“Why can’t I talk to my fucking boyfriend?!” You exclaim jumping up off of the couch in a panic.

“Calm down, Winnie.” He chuckles eyeing your Winnie the Pooh onesie.

Shit. You forgot you had it on.

“You better spill, O’Brien!” You growl, pretending you’re not dressed as a Disney character.

“Mike’s the other guy.” Dylan reveals quietly refusing to make eye contact with you.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s the one I fought with.”

“What?! Why?”

“Because he’s a piece of shit. I already knew but it was confirmed tonight.” Dylan snarls tightening his fists.

“Mike’s at home with a bad chest cold.”

“No. He was at Marty’s Bar tonight. I don’t think you’ve ever been there. It’s a few towns over.”

“But…”

“Ask Tyler! He’s the one who broke up the fight. He actually clocked Mike really good in the process.” Dylan says with a crooked smile.

This can’t be happening. Is your boyfriend secretly a douchebag? If this came from anyone else, you’d tell them to fuck off. But it’s Dylan, he never lies to you. Ever. You trust him completely.

“What happened?” You sigh, feeling nauseous.

“He…well…I…” Dylan stumbles on.

“Anytime, O’Brien.”

“Mike was making out with a redhead. Some skank. No clue who she was but he was all over her.” He replies, concern etched all over his face.

“What the hell.” You whisper, tears now filling your eyes.

“Please don’t cry, Y/N. He’s not fucking worth it.“ Dylan stands up to comfort you but you’re not having it.

“Dyl! Don’t move, you’ll hurt yourself more. I’m fine.” You scold making him nod in response.

“Hold on.” You mutter, trying to catch your breath as you leave the room.

Your friend watches you try to hold it together and it breaks his heart. You of all people do not deserve this. Mike fooled everyone, making them think that he’s a great guy. But Dylan always knew he was a waste of life.

“Can you eat?” You ask walking back into the living room.

“Yeah. I think so.” Dylan shrugs looking confused.

“Take these.” You direct placing two pain pills in front of him.

“What’s this?”

“Tramadol. For the pain. I’m making you some toast. You should eat with those.”

“Y/N. Hold on. Come sit down so we can talk about this.” Dylan sighs knowing you’re in denial.

“There’s nothing to talk about. What do you want on your toast? Butter or jam?”

“Toast?” Dylan whines looking pathetic. “Don’t you have anything better?”

“You were just punched in the stomach, dude. More than once. Eat something bland first. Unless you want to take the chance of getting sick?” You raise an eyebrow. “I bet throwing up with bruised ribs is fucking fun.”

“Ok. Ok. I’ll eat the god damn toast. Butter, please.” He groans letting out a dramatic sigh.

“Good boy.” You pat his head, snickering at the annoyed look on his face.

“I thought having a hot nurse would be a lot different. This isn’t enjoyable at all.” Dylan glares making you roll your eyes.

“Sorry to disappoint, kiddo.” You chuckle pulling your hood on.

“And the outfit is all wrong. You’re supposed to be in a sexy nurse outfit, instead you look like friggin Winnie the Pooh.” He huffs gesturing to your onesie.

“Silly me. Next time I’ll be more prepared.” You respond sarcastically making him smile.

“That’s all I ask, Y/N. Put in some effort.”

“I would take the onesie off but I’m not wearing anything underneath.” You shrug innocently before strolling into the kitchen.

“Tease!” Dylan shouts from the other room making you giggle as you butter the toast.

Thankfully Dylan eats without complaining, he just sticks to a puss on his face. “How are you feeling?”

“A little better. The pills are kicking in.” He replies looking relieved.

“I’ll call Tyler soon.”

“For what?”

“To pick me up.”

“It’s almost 1am. Just stay here. If you won’t go to the hospital then at least let me take care of you.”

“Whatever you say, nurse L/N. You’re the boss.” Dylan wiggles his eyebrows.

“You need to change. You’re too bloody. I have some clothes you can put on.”

“Let me guess…Mike’s.” Dylan responds looking aggravated.

“Yup. Can you handle taking a shower? Now that the pain meds are working?”

“I can handle it.” He scoffs with a frown.

“Right.” You chuckle.

“Aren’t nurses supposed to help with that? You don’t want me to slip and fall do you?” Your best friend smirks with a gleam in his eye.

“You’re shameless.” You shake your head.

“I’ll help you…but you stay in your boxers.”

“Ok. But you need to be in your underwear too. Only fair.”

“Dyl…”

“Do you want me to feel self conscious?!” He answers dramatically.

“This coming from the guy who streaked at the pep rally in high school.” You can’t help but laugh at the memory.

“It was one of the best moments of your life, sweetheart.” Dylan cracks up, it quickly turns into a moan because of the pain.

“Take it easy, O’Brien. Don’t strain yourself.” You sigh grabbing his arm to help him stand up.

“Y/N! I can walk on my own. I’m not eighty.” He mumbles looking grumpy.

“Ok.” You cross your arms over your chest and watch him try to be a tough guy.

“Can I have real food now? I ate the toast.” He mutters moving slowly.

“After you get cleaned up, O’Brien. I have…” You get cut off by a loud pounding on your front door.

“Oh jeez.” You groan knowing it’s your boyfriend.

“Ignore him.”

“He has a key.” You snap annoyed with this whole night.

“Y/N?” Mike calls out, you hear his heavy work boots getting closer.

“Behave yourself.” You whisper to Dylan.

“Seriously?” He scoffs ignoring your glare.

“Y/N. Hey.” Mike walks into the room but stops short when he sees Dylan

“Leave Mike. We’re done.” You say coldly making him flinch.

“Baby, come on. Whatever this moron told you…it’s a lie.”

“Really. So you weren’t at a bar tonight? Making out with another girl?”

“Of course not! I was walking to the store to get cough medicine. This drunk jackass ran into me and he started throwing punches.”

“You son of a bitch.” Dylan snarls staring your boyfriend down.

“Look what he did to my face! My nose is broken. And he fucking killed my wrist. I won’t be surprised if it’s broken too. He’s a fucking animal.” Mike spits moving closer to Dylan.

“Jesus, Mike. You couldn’t have come up with a better lie than that? That doesn’t make sense. Dylan wouldn’t start a fight for no reason.” You huff, feeling anxious.

“Oh, he has a fucking reason. The bastard has been jealous of me since day one. He’s in love with you and hates that you’re with me instead of him.” Mike growls making both you and Dylan’s eyes widen.

“Oh Mike…” Dylan starts chuckling with a cocky as fuck smile.

“I guess this isn’t you then right?” He looks through his iPhone and then holds it out.

Your mouth drops when you see Mike and some slut making out. The bastard is wearing the same exact clothes he has on now.

“That could be anyone.” He lies looking guilty.

Dylan scrolls through, showing another picture where it’s crystal clear that it’s your boyfriend.

“Out.” You spit shoving Mike so hard he stumbles back.

“But baby…”

“I’m not your baby. Get the fuck out of my apartment and stay the fuck out of my life. I mean it!” You shout before slamming the door in his face.

You’re now frozen in place, a shit ton of emotions hitting you all at once. Without warning, tears start rolling down your face and you start sobbing loudly.

“Hey. Hey.” Your friend says softly wrapping his arms around you.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself.” You sniffle trying to stop him.

“I’m ok.” He chuckles kissing your forehead.

“I really didn’t want to show you those pictures. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to.” Dylan sighs wiping away a tear falling down your cheek.

“It’s ok.” You mutter, grabbing his hand leading him down the hall.

“What are you doing?”

“You still need to get cleaned up, dear. It’s late. We’re both tired. So let’s get it done so we can sleep, ok?”

Dylan reluctantly agrees, not wanting to make things any harder for you. He holds in a groan when you hand him Mike’s t-shirt and sweatpants. That bastard, he’s gonna regret hurting you. Dylan will make sure of it.

“Do I have to sleep on the couch?” He asks giving you a sad face.

“No.” You chuckle. “Get into bed. I’ll be right back.”

Dylan gives you a wink and slowly moves under the covers. It’s obvious he’s pretending the pain is gone. Silly fucker.

“Here. Take this.” You hand him another Tramadol and a bag of his favorite chips.

“You’re trying to drug me aren’t you. So you can seduce me.” Dylan raises an eyebrow.

“Damn it. You found out my plan.” You giggle climbing in next to him.

“I knew it.” He mumbles before throwing chips into his mouth.

Dylan knows you have on a brave face, but he can always see right through it. He hates this.

“Come here.” He says softly holding his arm out so you can crawl underneath.

“You don’t need me leaning on your ribs. Just get some sleep.” You answer quietly shutting the light off.

“Y/N L/N! Get over here now.” Dylan commands, you roll your eyes but decide to listen anyway.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m feeling better now.” He pulls you closer, ignoring the pain and the pressure he feels on his ribs.

“The asshole was right ya know.” Dylan breathes out, his heart now beating faster in your ear.

“Huh?”

“Mike…what he said…I am in love with you. Everything else was bullshit but that part is the truth.”

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sylverstorms · 6 years

Text

Temptation’s call

Pairing: Priya x MC (Rose)

Rating: Mature, (NSFW, but nothing tooo explicit)

Words: ~2600

Warnings: Mentions of blood, sexual themes, Priya’s innate hotness– ahem, I mean Priya’s attitude in general. Delicious sin? Absolutely. You have been warned, people.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Bloodbound, because if I did Priya would be a LI and already showing signs of redemption. Not to mention Kamilah’s screen time…

A/N: This has been sitting in my drabbles for sooo long holy shit. I needed to get it out of my system but work wouldn’t let me. So, finally, here it is! Comments, on tags or otherwise, greatly appreciated!

“In exchange for my vote… I want this one.“ Priya smirked, slow and devious. Crimson nails manicured to perfection dug into Rose’s shoulders, keeping her tight to her chest. The human didn’t dare breathe in her hold.

Adrian denied her term with his whole body, brows furrowed, his voice grave. “No.“

“Absolutely not!“ Lily protested with a cutting motion of her hand. “I won’t let you do this for me. I won’t let you stay here, not with her!“ The words came accented by a low growl, born out of instinct rather than rational thought. Although sweet and brave, it wasn’t the smartest way to act, Rose thought, before the woman whose singular vote would decide her life.

“You will if you want to live~“ Priya sing-songed, her chuckle deep and reverberating as she lowered her chin onto Rose’s shoulder with the confidence of someone who unquestionably had the upper hand. Her cold fingers began to knead away at the tension in her muscles, just so. Rose resisted the immediate urge to lean back into the best massage she ever had. Focus, she scolded herself.

“This is my choice to make.“ Rose replied, watching the hurt her words painted across her companions’ features.

“Rose, no. Listen to me –I know how humans Priya takes a liking to end up.“ Adrian’s jaw clenched tightly, eyes soft and pleading. But he could see it, too, that he was fighting a lost battle.

Rose had already made up her mind.

She was responsible for her best friend’s Turning. And she would ensure her safety no matter the cost. Priya wouldn’t kill her, she believed, perhaps naively, despite all she heard and saw about the woman. A bit of rough play was a small price to pay for Lily’s life. She would bear it. She could.

Meanwhile, the fashion designer observed the scene with quiet amusement. Rose’s heartbeat must have given away her decision, because she could feel Priya’s devilish smirk widen on her exposed shoulder.

“I’ll do it.“ Rose made her consent official.

Priya had the green light to do whatever she wished; and certainly seemed to revel in that power, if the smug, challenging look she threw Adrian was anything to go by. She began by running her hands down the human’s arms suggestively, stalking around her like a lioness, taking her by the wrist. The touch danced on the border between firm and painful. Hungry eyes unabashedly roamed over her form, indecent fantasies swirling in their depths. Promising heaven …and hell.

Not wasting another moment, the fashion designer made to pull her towards a different room, but Rose surprised her –surprised even herself– by closing her free hand over hers, hot to cold. Priya raised an elegant eyebrow in warning.

“One bite.“ Rose stated, looking straight into wild eyes. It took all her willpower to keep her voice firm, steady. “One bite, and you’ll let me go back to them. And you’ll vote in favor of Lily.”

Priya’s eyes flashed blood red.

Faster than Rose could blink, her chin was snatched in a chilly vice grip, head forced up, her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. The joints of her neck strained uncomfortably. Out of the corner of her eye, Rose could see Adrian coil, fangs bared, ready to pounce.

“You dare bargain with me, human?” Priya asked, the very tips of her sharp incisors showing in clear threat. However…

…as quickly as it came, the storm passed.

Priya’s grip eased. A curious, interested grin graced her lips. “Oh, I do so like you.“ This time, when she took Rose’s hand, she laced their fingers together with newfound respect. ”Sergio, you may escort our guests outside.“ She ordered over her shoulder at the disregarded houseboy, still recovering from being tossed into the far wall. “Some air will be good for them.“

Adrian and Lily’s worried faces faded along with the background, as Rose was led past billowing red curtains to a private back room. She wasn’t certain what kind of playroom she’d expected to see -or what reading Fifty Shades of Grey had done to her imagination- but it wasn’t anything like it. Not a torture chamber, and not even remotely kinky, if a little eccentric. Just how Priya liked it; with grand, floor-to-ceiling windows and an amazing view of the city lights, gleaming like a sea of stars in the canvas of the night sky. There were crimson-themed paintings of half-naked women adorning the walls, a fireplace on one side. A modern bar stocked with all sorts of mindbogglingly expensive bottles stood tucked off to the corner, where Priya gracefully walked, high heels clicking with each step. Half a second later she was next to Rose again, offering a fancy drink in a fancier glass. The human carefully accepted the cocktail. Its subtle, fruity aroma tickled her nose.

“Come, sit with me.“ Priya motioned to the luxurious red couch in front of the fireplace, sitting first, with all the grace of a true queen. How she could make every seat look like a throne was beyond Rose, who felt so, so graceless in comparison. She had about two seconds to calculate the distance she’d keep from the vampire- not that it mattered, when Priya’s arm shot out, grabbing hers, tugging.

Rose fell sideways, practically into her lap. The drink in her hand wobbled, but thankfully didn’t spill. In no universe would dropping a cocktail on the designer ever end well. She gathered her bearings to the best of her ability; the second she lost her nerve would be the second she lost the dangerous little game she started with Priya. And she had no doubts the consequences would be pretty severe then.

Needing the liquid courage to make it through the ordeal, Rose decided she didn’t care to ask what was in the drink, and took a generous sip. Sweet cherry erupted on her tongue. Priya grinned at her expression. Wow, she thought. Priya definitely knows how to treat a girl when she wants to. Too bad she usually doesn’t want to. But she quickly halted herself from going down that path. I…did not just think that.

She did think it, though. And that would have been so much easier to deny if Priya didn’t smell so heavenly, like body oils and expensive hair conditioner, if her lips weren’t so curved and darkly inviting, if she wasn’t so damn attractive on the outside. If Rose didn’t have a crush on the celebrity for years. At least until she found out what she really was like. Cruel. Hedonistic. Selfish. Sadly, her stupid body wouldn’t get the message, far from dissuaded. Growing so, so hot under her attention.

The contrast of a cold touch at her neck broke Rose out of her thoughts. Priya’s fingers gently guided her hair out of the way, smoothing it over her back. Despite the situation, the sensation drew a soft sigh out of her.

“Turn around.“ Priya said, half order and half request. Rose felt blood rushing to her face -to other places, far lower- as she complied. It made her nervous not being able to look at Priya -she’d always looked at needles before they pierced her skin, ever since she was a child.

Priya guided her head onto the comfy back of the couch, angling her neck how she wanted it. Rose’s stomach twisted into knots. She hoped it was just from anxiety, but part of her said otherwise. Sinful excitement trailed down her spine at the fingertips drawing her blouse further down her shoulder, exposing the line of her collarbone completely. She could feel Priya’s nose in her hair and her breath across her vulnerable neck. It…did things to her. Things it shouldn’t do. Her heart thundered heavily. Rose pressed her thighs together, trying to quench the ache building there.

Her efforts were thrown out the window when Priya’s arms came around her torso and waist, long fingers splaying on her stomach, pulling her in further, if that was possible. Adding to the sweet torture, lips joined in the mix, pressing to the junction of her neck. Rose shivered, torn between wanting more and wanting out, yet Priya wouldn’t let her move an inch, feathering kisses along her racing pulse. Then those succulent lips parted and there was a tongue tracing an electric path up to her ear, teeth closing at its shell. Rose bit her lip, hard enough to hurt, wishing for anything to distract her from the onslaught of arousal pooling between her legs.

“What’s wrong, pretty thing?” Priya cooed into her ear, the timbre of her voice making Rose gasp.

“I… thought we agreed on a –oh fuck-” Priya sucked a bruise underneath her ear, “-on one bite.” Rose got the words out breathlessly, and it was a miracle they made sense at all, when she could barely think.

“Did we, now?” Priya smirked, licking her again. “But, baby, you’ll taste so good aroused…” And ‘aroused’ was an understatement, when Priya sounded like that so close to her ear, raw and throaty like they were having sex. Rose was burning, wet, out of her damn mind.

And then-

Then came pain.

Sudden. Blinding. Rose cried out at the feeling of harsh needles sinking into her flesh, sucking her blood in greedy gulps. It was nothing like when Jax had bitten her. It hurt, it hurt so terribly tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, and the pain drew on and on, refusing to cease. Rose gripped Priya’s wrist for support, and it was ironic that the person she sought to ground her was the same person causing her to suffer in the first place.

What felt like hours -when it was only seconds- later, Priya’s fangs retracted. Her arms fell from around Rose, who fell forward with nothing to hold her upright. Her hand immediately flew to her neck, feeling the abused skin, fingertips coming back stained red. She whipped around to throw Priya a well-deserved glare… but found herself getting pinned on the couch, instead, the blood-drunk vampire straddling her thighs. Rose defiantly met her eyes, a swear at the tip of her tongue.

“Why the frown, darling?” Priya smiled sexily, on the high of feeding, a thin trail of blood at the corner of her mouth. Rose couldn’t believe she found even that attractive about her. What the hell is wrong with me? She wondered. “Were you expecting something else?” Priya teased, drawing a fingernail over her collarbone. Rose’s traitorous skin sang. “Oh, but we can’t have the others thinking I’ve grown soft over a pair of pretty eyes, can we?” The compliment didn’t make Rose blush. No. Not at all. “Or allow some clanless worm’s mark to linger on you…”

Rose’s head snapped up. “What…how do you…“

“Vampire senses are an amazing thing.“ Priya explained. “The dirt clinging to you was bothering me. And unlike Adrian, I had the guts to do something about it.“ Her gaze swept over the fresh marks at Rose’s neck appreciatively. The clan leader leaned in, close, holding her the same way she would a lover, not a meal. “But you didn’t struggle, and you were so tasty for me…“ Priya whispered, barely an inch left between their mouths. “Such a good girl.“ The chaste kiss pressed to her lips was a small consolation prize. Rose’s mind fogged at the praise. Her breathing turned shallow, as she became increasingly aware of the thigh tucked between her legs. “And good girls I take a liking to get rewarded.“ Priya smirked into the following kiss, slipping her tongue into the awaiting velvet of her mouth, shifting ever so slightly on top of her. Rose’s hips rocked forward subconsciously, the need clawing at her insides overpowering her common sense.

Liplock never breaking for long, Priya’s hands roamed, down her blouse and underneath, setting her skin on fire. Every caress was multidimensional, its echo reaching the last cell in her body. Cool fingertips dragged even lower, past the waistband of her pants and underwear, until Rose could feel a nail scrape over her aching center. She moaned into Priya’s mouth, driving her hips into the contact in reckless abandon. The vampire had been building her up all evening; Rose needed to come undone more than she needed oxygen, in that moment.

Priya’s lips trailed off to the corner of her mouth, then to her jaw, then to the unharmed side of her neck. Rose’s fingers threaded in her silken wavy hair, trying to either pull her close or push her away from her veins, yet succeeding in neither. The expectation of pain somehow only added to the slickness staining Priya’s hand.

“Shhh.“ The clan leader hushed, kissing her skin. “Be good for me…“ And her fangs sank into Rose for the second time. But it wasn’t at all like minutes ago, when she’d wanted to cry. Well, maybe she did, though not from pain. The euphoria that came from this bite was all-encompassing, numbing her mind and her senses like the most potent, most addictive aphrodisiac. Rose felt warm and tingly all over, the pressure low in her belly rising and rising to the point she felt like she was breaking in half. Her body locked up and shuddered around Priya’s fingers, the crest of her pleasure seemingly never-ending.

Finally, some semblance of self returned to her, long after Priya had removed her fangs and sealed the wound with her own blood. A final kiss was pressed to her parted lips. The fashion designer rose, adjusting her crumpled dress. Rose tried not to miss the weight of her lean body over her own. She took a few more quiet moments to compose herself.

Once her heartbeat calmed completely, Priya pulled her up, and Rose fought to stand straight on shaky legs. She began tiredly setting her clothes right, buttoning up her pants, wiping the lipstick marks from her mouth. Priya watched her with an amused glint in her eyes. Rose got herself to a presentable state exactly on time, too, because Sergio hesitantly peeked through the red drapes cutting the room off the rest of the house, then, requesting permission to enter.

“Come.“ Priya motioned with her hand distractedly. “Dress her wound and help her down the stairs, she’s lost a lot of blood.“ She ordered. The young man couldn’t meet her gaze as he nodded, placing Rose’s hand on his forearm for support. Priya watched his every move with narrowed eyes. Rose, on her part, was thankful for his support… but it was not his warmth her body longed for. What she secretly craved was ice-cold to the touch.

“Don’t have too much fun without me, darling.“ Priya called over her shoulder as she turned to walk away. “I’ll see you at the Council.“

The rest of the night, from the point Rose stepped past the threshold of Priya’s mansion and onward, was a blur. Adrian’s pain-filled, guilty expression and Lily’s anger and worry were the only things that really stood out, that she could clearly remember by the time she got home. Her head spun -and yeah, she’d definitely lost a lot of blood. Rose could barely stand in front of her bathroom mirror to prepare for bed.

When she did slip under her covers, dead exhausted, she spared one last look at her phone. There were a dozen text messages from Adrian, apologizing for what he’d let happen to her. For not protecting her. For allowing Priya to brutalize her neck.

But that wasn’t the only thing the vampire queen did.

And no matter how Rose may have hated herself for it, despite the pain and the tension and the fear of being eaten alive… she did not regret letting Priya have her wicked way with her. To make matters worse,

She would do it again.

#priya lacroix #priya x mc #bloodbound #my fic #my writing #because in this house we stan one (1) queen #and we would let her raw us to death #long post #playchoices #mc thirsty af #you bet

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