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evanpeterswhoresblog · 1 year

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A Different Kind of High

Tate Langdon x f!reader

warnings: use of marijuana, smut, p in v, unprotected, slight fingering, lose of virginity, slight innocence kink? lmk if there’s any others!!!

summary: you died a virgin, but that doesn’t mean you need to be one as a ghost…

word count: 1.9k

~~~

“I stole some weed from the newbies, you want some?” Tate asks as he hops up on what used to be your bed.

You’ve been dead for only a few months, living in the imfamous Murder House for a year prior. It was strange being dead, seeing people pass by on the street everyday knowing that’ll never be you again. You suppose this was what you deserved, after all you committed suicide. But never during your life did you think this was what being dead would be like. Trapped in a house with a dozen other ghosts for eternity.

Tate has been your friend since before you died, of course you didn’t know he was a ghost until you joined him on the other side. He’s charming, very down to Earth. You really don’t know much about him, even now. You’ve heard whispers about him being crazy, and you believe it. Sometimes through the night you hear his screams, his murderous laughter. It doesn’t bother you though. You’re already dead, what’s the worst he could do?

“I’ve never smoked before,” you reply.

He chuckles. “Are you serious?”

You turn red. “You saw my parents, they never let me do anything. When I used to go out they’d make me be back by nine. Even on weekends. I always figured they’d know so I didn’t bother.”

“At least tell me you’ve drank.” You shake your head, a small laugh escaping at the face Tate makes. “Have you done anything?”

“I kissed a boy when I was twelve,” you answer honestly.

“Was that your only kiss?”

“Yeah…” You mumble.

“Wow, I can’t believe you’re this innocent, I always thought girls with strict parents did the dirtiest things,” he replies. He grabs the baggie of weed out of his pocket and holds it up. “You’re going to try this, and you’re going to love it.”

You don’t object, and instead watch as Tate begins to role a joint. He does it effortlessly, he’s done it many times before. You know from previous conversations that he’s done drugs much stronger than weed, the main one being cocaine. You had asked him how it felt to do it, to be alive and on a drug so strong. He told you it felt like he needed to run a mile while he was high. He also made you promise to do it with him one day.

When he finishes rolling the joint he offers it to you. “You want the first hit?”

“Fuck it, yeah,” you say.

He gives you a smile that makes butterflies swirl in your stomach. Though the two of you are only friends, you can’t deny how attractive Tate is. Even though everythings only been platonic, sometimes with certain looks and phrases, he makes you feel some special type of way.

You take the joint inbetween your lips, your eyes locked on Tate. He grabs a lighter and lifts it to the other end of the joint.

“I’d usually say take a small hit, but usually it takes a little more to get us high so take as much as you think is necessary,” he explains before lighting the end.

You inhale deeply, the smoke it hot and you know if you were alive it would burn your lungs completely. Thankfully though, it only stings a little. After a few seconds Tate takes it from your lips and you exhale slowly, watching as he repeats your actions. You lean back against the pillows, you feel a little something.

“How long does it usually take to get high?” You ask.

“I dunno a few minutes I guess, why? Do you feel it?”

Your head feels light and the room looks brighter. “I think so, I feel… lighter.”

“Oh yeah, you’re high,” he replies with a laugh.

He lays beside you on the bed, both of you staring at the ceiling in silence. You hear him take a few more puffs of the joint, wondering how he does’t feel anything yet. Your whole body feels electrified, every muscle alive and thriving. You almost feel like how you did before you died, almost. It makes you smile.

“Why did I never try this before…” you mumble, a small laugh leaving your lips. “Fuck I feel good.”

“I know right, it’s pretty great.”

You turn your head and stare at him. “Can I tell you a secret?”

He meets your gaze. “Of course.”

You don’t know where the sudden burst of honesty comes from. Usually, you’re embarrassed to talk about anything you did or more specifically didn’t do in your life. However, as you stare into Tate’s dark eyes you feel the urge to tell him every little detail about you.

“I died a virgin,” you whisper. “Like I never even got fingered or anything.”

You stare at each other for another few seconds before you both burst out into laughter. You don’t know why it’s so funny, but it is. You feel amazing, like you’re on top of the world. But you also feel like every word that comes out of your mouth is hilarious.

“I shouldn’t have said that I’m sorry,” you say as the laughter dies down. “I’m so stupid.”

“Hey, you aren’t stupid. I know a few other ghosts died virgins, like the nurses,” he replies, that stupid smirk on his face.

“God don’t say that!” You exclaim. “At least they chose to die virgins, I tried to hard to be fucked before I died but every time I started to become interested in someone my stupid parents ruined it.”

Tate props his head up on his hand so he’s now looking down at you. “Well on the brightside your parents are gone now so you can fuck anyone you want.”

“Yeah but the options aren’t exactly ideal. There’s really only Travis, but he’d definitely not be the best option for a first time,” you laugh.

“I’m here too you know.”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“You know what I mean,” Tate answers, his voice quieter than before.

Your laughter stops at his words, and you meet his eyes once again. This time, you can sense something lingering behind his eyes, something you haven’t ever noticed before. You smile, trying to ease the tension that’s filled the room. He’s probably just messing with you. However, he doesn’t smile back at you, his expression stays the same.

You’re in disbelief. Is this real? Is your best friend really telling you he’d take your virginity? This can’t be real, you think. Maybe it’s just because of the weed, maybe it’s doing something to your head. You can’t deny the butterflies that form in your stomach at the thought of it though. Tate would be a good first. He’s experienced, but not with too many people. You find yourself suddenly imaging it, how it would feel, sharing that experience with someone you truly enjoy being around. It wouldn’t be so bad, you decide.

“All right,” You say. You kick your shoes off without breaking eye contact. “Is it going to hurt?”

He smirks and follows your actions. “It usually does the first time.”

You smile and start undoing the buttons on your jeans. You know if you hadn’t taken that puff of the joint you’d be selfconcious getting undressed in front of Tate. He watches you carefully as you remove your pants, your shirt, even your bra. It’s silent, but not an awkward silence, more of a comforting silence. You only look away from him as you slowly pull your panties off and throw them into the newly formed pile of your clothes.

It’s your turn to watch now. Your eyes trail up and down Tate’s body as he slowly undresses. He’s so beautiful, his body is perfect. You can’t stop yourself from reaching over and running your fingertips over the toned muscles of his abdomen. Your eyes meet once again and you almost shiver at how full his eyes have become with lust.

Quickly, he leans his head down and connects your lips to his. The kiss is slow at first, like you’re treading the water. But as you start to understand how it works, you move your lips against his, following his motions. The soft gentle kiss becomes full of passion. You twirl your fingers in his soft blond curls, loving the way his breathing gets heavier as you do so.

He moves on top of you, hit body fitting between your legs swiftly. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your skin feels like it needs to be touched. Tate rests one of his hands beside your head and the other begins to slide down your chest, your stomach, till it reaches the place it was searching for. You feel him smile into the kiss.

“So excited already…” he mumbles.

His fingers run between your folds, collecting the wetness that’s already begun to drip out of you. He circles them on your clit for a few minutes, making you moan from the new but amazing feeling. After that he slides his pointer finger down to your entrance.

“Is this okay?” He asks.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Thank you?” He chuckles. He begins to slowly push his finger inside you and you grab his free arm.

“Thank you for doing this,” you clarify.

“I like how innocent you are, but I can’t lie I’ve always dreamt of being the one to rip that innocence away,” he whispers.

Before you can reply he lowers his head to your neck and begins to leave sloppy kisses along your skin. You can’t believe this is really happening. Once his finger is fully inside you, he starts to thrust it in and out at a slow pace. You moan, your back arching off the matress. He continues this for a few minutes before adding a second, preparing you perfectly for what’s going to come next.

He kisses down your chest until he’s at your breasts. He sucks and licks your nipples, it feels amazing. You can’t take it any longer, you need him. You grab his chin and connect your lips. He kisses you harder than before, biting and sucking your tongue into his mouth. You love it. You can’t get enough of it.

“I’m ready Tate,” you say breathlessly as your lips part. “I want to do it.”

“All right.” He pulls his fingers out of you and you watch him position his hard dick on your entrance. He looks down at you, brushing a piece of hair away from your face. “If it hurts to bad just tell me and I’ll stop okay?”

You nod, and before you can say anything else he starts to move. It hurts, but not too bad. Tate kisses you as he does this, it makes the pain more bearable. You wrap one of your hands around his back, your nails slowly dragging across the skin of Tate’s back. He only kisses you harder. His thrusts are slow, but your thighs still clench around his hips.

After a few minutes he asks if he can go faster, you tell him yes. The pain slowly morphed into a small pleasure that you enjoy. You continue to claw at his back, even more as his pace inscreases. You’re out of breath, the only sounds in the room being your moans along with Tate’s heavy breathing. It’s pure bliss.

The end comes faster than you want, but you don’t mind. You love the way Tate whispers your name as he cums, and how strongly his dick pulses inside you. You hold him close after it’s over, his skin against yours makes you feel alive again.

“Was it okay?” he asks as he lays on you.

“It was perfect,” you answer.

And so it was.

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 2 years

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Unbearable

Warnings: Angst, smut Words: 3.5k

Summary: Your marriage to Aemond Targaryen is a political one, to strengthen the bond between both your houses, or so it seems. You’ve loved Aemond from afar for as long as you can remember, but now find yourself trapped in a marriage where the feeling, in your opinion, is not reciprocated.

The feeling of butterflies fluttered in the pit of your stomach, as your handmaidens intricately braided your hair. It was the morning of the day you’d awaited for so long; your wedding to Aemond Targaryen.

You’d grown up alongside the Targaryen children. You’d learned to tolerate Aegon, were firm friends with Helaena and had always admired Aemond from afar, despite his rigidity and aloof nature. As you’d grown, admiration had quickly blossomed into love. You saw past Aemond’s injury. You adored his pursuit of knowledge, his mastery of combat and respect for tradition. To you, Aemond could have a thousand more scars than he did already and would still be the most handsome man in all of Westeros.

With this in mind, your heart had soared when your father had broken the news to you that you and Aemond were betrothed. A strengthening of the bond between your houses, he’d said, but to you it was so much more. Aemond was seemingly less excited, but you were unsurprised by this. He’d never been one for outward displays of emotion. Much of your life you’d wondered if he even liked you. He’d never said more than a few words at a time to you, but you’d accepted that was just his way. Surely things would be different once you were his wife.

Aemond’s eye did not meet yours throughout the ceremony and he sat next to you in stony silence throughout the wedding feast. You supposed it must be nerves. The bedding would be next and he may open up to you once you’re alone as husband and wife.

You were jittery with excitement as you entered your bed chambers, eagerly turning to face Aemond once the door was closed firmly behind you.

He cut you off before you’d had a chance to speak. “I suppose we should get this over with”, he said stoically, nodding his head towards the bed, “On your belly”, he instructed.

“What?!” you gasped, heat flooding your cheeks. This wasn’t the romantic end to the evening you’d envisioned.

“We’ll be expected to produce heirs. It’s only right we fulfil our duty”, Aemond explained, avoiding eye contact.

You stared at him, wide eyed in astonishment.

When you made no move to say anything, he sighed, clearly vexed. “Please, my lady, while not ideal, let us make haste so that this can be at its end. On your belly.”

He gestured once more towards the bed and this time you complied. Crawling with trepidation on top of the blankets before laying flat on your front. You felt frightened. Where butterflies had once danced, dread now gnawed its way through your guts. While you had no experience of anything romantic - you’d never even kissed a boy before - surely this was not how it was supposed to be? Where were the gentle touches, the sweet kisses and the lingering stares you’d heard so much about?

Before you could ponder on it for too long, you felt your skirts being lifted above your waist. You anticipated the soft feel of long, dexterous fingers caressing your thighs, but were shocked when you were grabbed roughly by the hips and held in place.

“Forgive me”, Aemond said matter of factly, before roughly forcing himself into you in one thrust.

You buried your face into the soft down of the pillow, muffling your loud scream as he entered you. Tears rimmed your eyes as you fisted the blankets. The stretch and burning sensation between your legs was excruciatingly painful, exacerbated by Aemond’s harsh thrusts. While the pain dulled after a few moments, it never fully subsided and you cried silently waiting for it to be over.

Aemond finally came with a low grunt, pulling himself out of you as soon as he was able.

You remained still, not daring to move, as he composed himself. You didn’t dare to look at him, too shocked by what had just transpired to do anything but lay prone on the bed.

“Hopefully my seed will quicken and we will not have need to repeat this”, Aemond muttered. While trying to keep his tone formal and respectful, you detected a hint of strain to his voice. He was holding something back, but you were unsure of what. “If your moon’s blood does arrive then be sure to tell me, we will need to try again.”

You hadn’t heard him retreat, until the click of the door closing confirmed you were now alone. It was then that the intensity of the pain between your legs, the chill of the air on your bared skin and the feeling of utter loneliness all collided at once.

No longer bothering to stifle the sound, you let out an anguished, almost feral sounding sob. Your husband did not love you. He was so disgusted by you that he’d insisted upon not looking at you during the consummation of your marriage. There was no tenderness to the act, like your vows it was purely political; to produce an heir. Your body shuddered with the force of your crying until finally, exhaustion overwhelmed you, and you fell into a fitful sleep.

The following morning when you awoke your eyes were puffy from crying. The prospect of being trapped in a loveless marriage weighed heavily upon you. You hissed as you lowered yourself into the steamy waters of the bath your handmaidens had drawn for you. The heat of the liquid hitting the soreness between your legs made you wince, and brought fresh tears to your eyes as memories of the previous night came flooding back to you.

You’d never dreamed that you’d awaken the morning after your wedding and find yourself alone. Yet it had never occurred to you that you’d be married to a man who apparently couldn’t stand you. Your heart ached. In spite of the mistreatment you’d suffered at his hands, you were still desperately in love with Aemond.

Upon being seated at the breakfast table you were disappointed but not surprised when you noticed your new husband’s absence. You struggled to conceal your sadness when informed that Aemond had awoken early and was out riding with Vhagar. You didn’t see him for the rest of the day and, finally, after finding yourself dining alone once more at supper your sadness turned to anger.

If Aemond wanted this marriage to be a mere formality then you’d maliciously comply. Over the coming weeks you both avoided being alone in the same room together, hastily retreating when the other would enter. In situations that required both your presences in a group setting you barely looked at each other and only spoke to each other if it was absolutely necessary.

Each fresh snub was like a dagger to your chest and yet, as heartbreak bloomed, the fire of your anger was further ignited. You wondered if this would go on indefinitely. Little did you know you wouldn’t have to wait long for things to finally reach their boiling point.

You were roused from your slumber by the dull ache in your lower belly and stickiness between your thighs. Peeling back the bedclothes and finding the crimson stains upon your nightgown and the sheets confirmed what you suspected - your moon’s blood had arrived.

A mixture of relief and regret washed over you. On the one hand, it would have been nice to carry a small part of Aemond. Proof of the only time you’d ever experienced the touch of the man you loved, painful as it was. On the other, you were grateful not to be bringing a child into such a strained and loveless environment.

After you’d bathed and your bloodied sheets and night clothes had been taken away to be laundered, you settled yourself in the library to read. This was the most likely room in which to find the prince, however, after a month of trying your best to avoid him you’d learned his routine quite quickly. He was in the habit of taking Vhagar for an early morning ride each day, which meant you could peacefully have the library to yourself until at least lunch time.

After a couple of hours of comfortable reading, you were returning your selected tome back to its shelf when the creak of the door to the library opening caught your attention. You turned, expecting to address a servant alerting you that lunch was ready but froze when you saw who it really was. Aemond.

He hovered by the door, regarding you quietly. The expression on his face was unreadable. In spite of your anger, you still found him devastatingly handsome and silently cursed yourself for it.

You stood, wide eyed with shock as you struggled to regulate your breathing. You kept a vice like grip on the book you held, in an attempt to ground yourself, your knuckles were white with the effort.

Aemond’s eye fell to the book you were holding, he appeared to be about to say something, before thinking better of it and looking back to your face.

“You have your moon’s blood”, he stated simply.

It wasn’t a question. A servant had obviously informed him. He knew. Annoyance bubbled in your throat. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you answered with a curt nod.

Aemond inhaled deeply, looking down at his feet before returning his gaze back to you. “I am sorry to hear”, he spoke softly, appearing to choose his words carefully, “I will give you time for your...blood...to be over and then...we will try again.”

Unable to hold back your annoyance any longer, you slammed the book onto the table in front of you as he turned to leave.

Aemond looked back at you, clearly shocked by your outburst.

“Don’t trouble yourself”, you spat.

“Excuse me?” Aemond whispered, his violet eye narrowing.

“I’m saying no!” You practically shouted, “I don’t want to try again. Whatever this is, I don’t want it! I don’t want to bring a child into this!”

You were on the verge of tears by the time you finished speaking. Your chest heaved with the effort to keep your wits about you.

A look of something akin to hurt flashed across Aemond’s face as you spoke, but vanished as quickly as it appeared, so you were certain you’d imagined it. He stood statue like for a moment before responding with a quiet “mmm”. He exited the library, closing the door softly behind him.

You collapsed into a chair, burying your head in the crook of your arm against the table and sobbing, not for the first time, about the shattered state your husband had left you in.

A week passed without any further incident or any word from Aemond. You were beginning to think he had forgotten and discarded you following your altercation in the library. That was until a rolled up note was passed to you by one of your handmaidens as they readied you for the day.

Your fingers plucked open the knot in the string holding the roll together and unfurled the scrap of parchment. What you read filled your veins with ice.

Written in High Valyrian the note read: “I will petition my mother to dissolve our marriage. I hope this is pleasing to you - Aemond.”

You stood abruptly, the girl brushing through your hair jumped back in shock. You stormed from your chambers, you thin nightgown billowing behind you as your hair swung loosely around your shoulders.

“Princess, you are not dressed!” the girl called out after you.

“I don’t care!” you raged, as you carried on down the hallway, parchment clenched in your fist.

You burst into Aemond’s chambers, startling him as he was donning the last of his riding gear.

“Aemond, what the fuck is this?!” you demanded, brandishing the note.

His eye went wide, taking you in, before turning away. “You are not dressed, my lady” he muttered.

“So people keep telling me”, you snapped, “Can you not put aside your disgust for me for even a moment to explain the meaning of this?!”

“Disgust?” Aemond questioned, turning back to you, the shock on his face more than evident. “Why ever would you think you disgust me?”

“You want to dissolve our marriage”, you said meekly, the last of your fight leaving you.

“I’m doing what is best for you”, he explained softly, “I cannot bear to see you this unhappy. I will tell my mother your virtue is still in tact, so your chances of a more appropriate match will not be affected.”

“This doesn’t make any sense”, your voice wobbled, “Don’t you want to try?”

“I have tried!” Aemond snapped in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose, as he paced, “I’ve kept away from you, I’ve given you space and yet still you are miserable. There is nothing more to be done.”

“Why would you think I want space?” Confusion settled over your features.

Aemond scoffed. “I am not my brother. I should be wed to a plain faced sow from the North. Your beauty is other worldly. You are scholarly and kind, you deserve a husband that is whole, not disfigured as I am. You should not be forced to look upon me and feel resentment at the match that has been made for you.”

“Aemond...” you breathed, your heart hammering in your chest.

He held up a hand to stop you, before he continued speaking. “I have tried my best to make this work. Avoiding you, so you would not have to look upon me or endure my presence. I had hoped you would be with child after our wedding night. I know how the people at court love to whisper. It pained me to touch you when you clearly did not want me to, but I could not bear the thought of people suggesting that you were barren or worse. I heard your sobs after I left your chambers. I hated that I had hurt you and that you were so horrified by having lain with me that you would cry so.”

“Aemond”, you interrupted, this time with more conviction, “You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on.”

He shook his head, chuckling drily as he turned away from you.

Not having to look at him made it easier to press on with the rest of your confession. “I have loved you from afar since we were children. I do not wish to be wed to anyone else. All I have wanted since we were married was to feel your touch. I’ve longed for you for what feels like an age. Instead you have broken my heart.”

A single tear tracked its way down the alabaster of Aemond’s unmarred cheek as he finally turned back to you. “Can you ever forgive me? We could start again. I promise to make you feel every bit as cherished as you deserve.��

“I would like that”, you sniffled, shedding happy tears of your own.

He approached you, wiping them away with his thumbs as his hands moved to cup your face. “May I kiss you?”

You responded by stepping up onto your tiptoes and pressing your lips against his. His mouth was warm and soft, better than anything you’d ever imagined. Aemond’s tongue probed against your bottom lip, requesting entrance as he deepened the kiss, moving his arms around your waist to pull your body flush against his.

Emboldened by your husband’s sudden display of passion, when you finally broke apart you pushed your nightgown from your shoulders, standing bare before him.

This time when his eye went wide it was lust, not shock, that ruminated from its depths.

“If it is agreeable to you, husband, I would like to properly consummate our union.”

Aemond swept you into his arms, kissing you fiercely and manoeuvring you towards the bed. “This time I will treat my wife with the reverence fitting of a princess”, he whispered, long fingers roaming the curves of your body as he drank in the sight of you.

When he turned you around and moved to press you onto the bed, you realised he meant to have you from behind again.

“No” you protested.

He froze, immediately halting his actions, doubt and worry creasing his brow.

You were quick to reassure him, climbing off the bed and stroking his sharp jawline. “I wish to look upon your face when we make love.”

A tint of pink flushed his otherwise pale skin and he glanced away from you. “My scars...”

“Have you not been listening to me, husband? Scars or no scars, there is no one in the Seven Kingdoms whose face I’d rather look upon than yours. Please...”

This seemed to convince him and he allowed you to push him back towards the bed, he sat on the edge as you straddled his lap, his large hands coming to rest on your hips.

With a delicate touch, you reached behind his head, removing both his eye covering and the tie that held his hair fastened in place. His long mane of silver hair fell around his face and shoulders, framing his sharp features. The sapphire that sat within the socket of his missing eye glittered. He was a vision of radiant beauty as your smiled upon him.

“Iksā vok”, you whispered. You are perfect.

Aemond’s previously shy demeanour suddenly transformed as he captured your lips with his possessively. You took the opportunity to push gently on his chest, laying him down as you sat astride him.

You broke the embrace to unfasten his tunic, placing gentle kisses on each part of his skin as it was revealed to you. You repeated the action with his trousers, until finally he laid naked beneath you.

“Iksā vok” you repeated. You are perfect.

He held his aching cock in his hand, looking at you through hooded eyes. “I need you”, he all but moaned, “Come here.”

You giggled, straddling his lap once more and grabbing hold of his erection. Aemond hissed through his teeth at the sensation, throbbing at the grasp of your hand as you positioned him at your entrance.

You both groaned in unison as you sank down upon him, stretching and filling you to the brim. You stilled as your body met his where you joined, your face contorted with pleasure and adoration for your husband.

Aemond’s hands moved lazily to palm at your breasts, before brushing his thumbs across each nipple. You squirmed, wiggling your hips at the heady sensation.

“Avy jorrāelan“ he confessed, no trace of hesitation in his voice. I love you.

You whimpered, finally gaining the confidence to grind your hips against his. Pressing your hands against the planes of your husband’s chest, you rocked against him harder and faster, moaning at the sensation of the feel of him.

“You are exquisite”, Aemond whispered, pulling himself up into a seated position and meeting you thrust for thrust.

You clung to his shoulders, hair cascading down your back as he placed open mouthed kisses to the column of your throat.

You squealed as Aemond flipped you suddenly, your back making impact with the mattress as he continued to rut into you. His weight on top of you and being able to gaze up at the mask of pleasure that was his face felt heavenly.

Instinctively your legs moved to wrap themselves around his waist, your ankles crossing behind him. Aemond let out a breathy gasp at the sensation of being pulled into you yet deeper still.

“Harder, Aemond...please.” you begged, arching into him.

“I love hearing my wife beg”, he rasped, complying with your request as he snapped his hips into yours at a bruising pace.

You could feel something begin to build within you, quickly reaching its peak. You had no idea what this sensation was and you wailed piteously, clinging to Aemond for reassurance.

“I am bringing you pleasure, my love”, he cooed, “It’s okay, let go. I have you.”

“Aemond!” you screamed, as the peak finally fizzed over and you felt your body shake with the intensity of which you were clenching around his cock.

He fucked you through your orgasm, nearing his own as his pace began to falter. “Beg syt ñuha nūmo” he commanded. Beg for my seed.

The filthiness of his tone made you whine. “Kostilus! Kostilus!” you cried out, “Tepagon nyke aōha nūmo!” Please! Please! Give me your seed!

You felt Aemond’s cock pulsate inside you as he filled you with rope after rope of his warm, sticky seed. He came with a low groan of your name, before collapsing on top of you.

Your hand stroked idly through the silver strands of his hair as he held you close, sweaty and panting.

“I meant it, I love you”, he finally spoke.

“I know”, you smiled, “So you won’t go back to ignoring me?”

“No”, he replied, propping himself up on his forearms to stare down at you, “I will not push you away again. It was unbearable.”

You smiled, leaning up to peck his lips. “Iksā vok.” You are perfect.

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ohmtoff · 2 months

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Shots, shots, shots (Part 1)

Nick Sturniolo x Masc!OC

Summary: Nick is most definitely not having fun at a frat party Madi dragged him to, but this boy who’s staring at him hungrily may help him to have a good time (or: a very cliche and very self-indulgent fic of Nick getting it on with a frat bro)

WC: 4.8k

Contains: college!AU, frat bro!oc, drinking games, making out

Disclaimer: no smut yet, smut is in the next part. not an american, idk anything ab frat culture and the american college system in general, so there’s gna be some inaccuracies. this is just based on the frat fics ive read and my own college experiences.

a/n: was supposed to be a one-shot but i suddenly wrote 10k words💀 although i know nothing ab frat culture, how my american friends describe it is basically like any faculty organization in an indonesian uni lmao so hope my knowledge of how those orgs work help this a slight bit. anyways hope you enjoyyy <333

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Nick is most definitely not having fun.

He frowns as he feels the bitter burn of his fifth (or was it sixth?) shot going down, tipping his head back to get it to go down easily, well and truly smashed at this point. Madi would be proud. Speaking of… he hasn’t seen his best friend since they arrived at the party, the girl pestering him for hours earlier in the day to come party with her. Madi is tired of listening about The Breakup, and to be honest, Nick is too, but he didn’t agree to come with Madi only to have his supposedly best friend ditch him at the door, leaving him alone at a frat party where he knows absolutely no one. Especially not just so she can run off and suck face with some junior.

Nick spies his best friend making out with a boy he doesn’t know, back to him through the haze of the crowd, barely visible in the shitty purple LED lighting, especially with everyone packed into the house like sardines, the place filled to over capacity so that no one can move without being pressed up against someone or another. Well, unless they are sticking to the wall like Nick currently is. And he’s about to go give his friend a piece of his goddamn mind when he hears the voice beside him, his irritation still visible on his face as he turns to look.

“Hey.” The boy is staring at him with an intensity that is disarming, dark eyes set in an intense unwavering gaze as he looks, just enough light to make out the half-smile on the other boy’s face, only one corner of his mouth upturned slightly. The boy’s hair is half in his face, looking damp and mussed like he’s just stepped out of the shower. And Nick trails his gaze downwards, appreciating the other boy’s outfit, a black t-shirt with some obscure band logo, sleeves cut-off hastily, clearly homemade, the edges ragged, showing off the nice curves of the boy’s shoulders, the definition of his upper arms from hitting the gym obvious. All thrown over a pair of oversized black jeans.

The other boy is looking at him like he wants him, and Nick is too far gone to stop the delicious pit of arousal churning in his stomach, the euphoria going straight to his head, making him dizzy with desire. He’s not the type Nick usually goes for, in fact, the boy is the exact opposite of his ex, but that doesn’t stop his body from screaming fuck me now. “I haven’t seen you around before. Transfer or something?”

The question makes Nick give out a little snort of laughter. “No, not at all. Just not my scene.”

“Oh?” The boy raises an eyebrow questioningly, his tone clearly teasing as he slides in closer to avoid another boy trying to make his way past the two of them squeezed into the corner. Nick inhales sharply as the boy moves in closer, trapping him, his back pressed up against the wall with no room to go back further, the other boy bringing his arms up to brace against the wall, forming a makeshift barrier around Nick, casually caging him in. As he does, the smell of beer hits his nose, a smell he normally despises, but it’s mixing with something the boy is wearing underneath, something sweet and woody, and the combination is fucking intoxicating. “And what would be your scene then?”

He ignores the question, not wanting to say that maybe his scene is in his room, pitifully stuffing himself with fast food and crying into Madi’s shoulder about his ex months after the breakup, choosing instead to shift the topic, mumbling. “You smell like shitty ass beer.”

“Shit, sorry.” The boy relaxes his arms, his face softening into a sheepish apologetic look that Nick finds almost endearing, backing up a step so that he’s not so deep into Nick’s personal space, and Nick takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heartrate. “Got doused with beer earlier when they were spraying it into the crowd.”

“Seems like a waste of alcohol if you ask me.” The unexpected response makes the other boy’s eyes go wide, a moment of silence before he bursts out into raucous laughter.

“Yeah, shit, it probably is.” Nick hates that his breath hitches automatically as the other boy runs his hand through his black hair, shaking his head in apparent exasperation, looking unfortunately all too attractive in the process. “Imagine how many people could be more drunk than they already are if they hadn’t wasted all that beer.” The boy shoots him a grin, which he finds himself returning, or at least he hopes he is.

“So how did you get here?”

“My best friend, Madi. She dragged me here.” Nick admits, a slight eye-roll accompanying the statement. “Otherwise there’s no way I would come to a party in a dump like this. Complete shithole. Floor is disgusting, and the whole place looks like it’s going to collapse in on itself if they throw another couple of parties.” He finds himself having to yell to be heard, the music playing far too loud, the bass turned up so that he can quite literally feel the floorboards vibrating underneath his feet.

To Nick’s surprise and appreciation, the other boy appears to take an interest in listening to him, craning in closer and cocking his head to the side to hear better. His ex was an asshole that wouldn’t bother to make sure he was comfortable at parties, even after knowing Nick didn’t love large crowds, preferring to hang out with small groups of people instead. Plus points. “Oh, I know Madi, met her at a general ed class last semester. She’s also friends with one of the frat bros here, I think. Nate. Anyways, enough about your friend. I haven’t even gotten your name yet.”

“It’s Nick.”

“Nick.” The other boy repeats it, long and drawn out as he rolls the sound around in his mouth, and the thought of the other boy saying his name as encouragement flashes in his head, mentally kicking himself for even thinking about blowing this complete stranger already within ten minutes of meeting. It’s the alcohol talking, definitely the alcohol. He desperately tries to repeat it to himself and believe it as he watches the other boy bite his lower lip in thought. Fuck. Yeah, so maybe it isn’t the alcohol making him want this boy. Maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t been fucked since The Breakup. Which was 3 months ago. Nick scowls. Fuck Madi for telling him he needs to get laid, and double fuck Madi for being right.

“And yours?”

“Evan. My name’s Evan.” The name sounds familiar, but Nick can’t quite place it, putting aside the feeling for now, instead choosing to concentrate on his plan of perhaps getting laid tonight. Which shouldn’t be hard considering the way Evan is looking at him right now. Like he wants to ravish Nick. With maybe a touch of possessiveness. Nick doesn’t mind the possessiveness, as long as they don’t go overboard. Possessive makes for a good fuck.

He gives in.

I’m here already, might as well have a good time.

He turns on the flirtiest smile he has, his lips curling into a natural irresistible pout as he keeps talking, his hand coming up to brush Evan’s arm, his fingertips lightly grazing the other boy’s bicep. Very obvious, very forward. No one would ever accuse Nick of being subtle, especially when it comes to getting what or who he wants. “Well, Evan, since this does seem to be your scene and not mine, what would you say to being responsible for me having a fun time tonight?” The words have the desired effect, Nick tracing the tightening of the other boy’s jaw with his eyes, pleased at the barely veiled show of restraint.

Nick feels a shiver of anticipation run up his spine as Evan leans forwards, tilting his head downwards as he speaks, the other boy’s hot breath against his earlobe, pressed in so close that Nick can feel the ghost of a touch from Evan’s lips. He isn’t able to prevent the gasp from escaping when he feels the other boy’s tongue, teeth giving him a quick nip. “Well, tonight’s your lucky night, baby. I am at your service. For anything you want.”

The words make Nick bristle, bringing both palms up to push at the other boy’s chest, startling Evan into stepping back off-balanced. “I don’t like being called baby.” He mutters. “Don’t do that.” His ex had called him baby, as an insult, somehow managing to insinuate every time that Nick was too demanding, too high maintenance, turning the word into a mocking reprimand each time. “My ex used to use that.” He pauses a beat. “Not in a good way.”

“Oh, shit.” Evan frowns, his eyebrows drawn together giving almost a menacing look, and Nick feels a sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of Evan losing interest. Maybe I came off too strong. “Your ex sounds like an asshole.” He lets out the breath he doesn’t even realize he was holding, a ripple of relief running through him. “And all I meant…” Nick’s breath catches as the other boy slides his hand underneath his chin, tilting it upwards as he speaks. “…is that you look pretty. Delicate. Like someone who deserves to get everything they want.”

Everything they want.

The words make Nick flush, the heat crawling up the base of his neck, stinging his cheeks. I want you. And his first instinct is to throw all caution to the wind and regret his decisions tomorrow morning after the alcohol has worn off, when there isn’t a buzz in his veins making him want to throw himself at this boy. And he desperately wants it to be just a physical thing, after all, he doesn’t really know this guy. He could turn out to be some weirdo psychopath for all he knows, but damn it if it doesn’t make him feel good that this boy thinks he deserves everything. But before he can open his mouth and resign himself to his fate, a hand appears on Evan’s shoulder, accompanied by the loud voice of another boy.

“Hey, bro.” The hand on Evan’s shoulder becomes an arm pulling the taller boy into a half-headlock of sorts. “Not like you to hide away in the corner for so long. Don’t you miss being the life of our party?” The boy turns slightly, catching a glimpse of him, and Nick becomes acutely aware that he’s probably gaping. “Oh, I see now.” The boy gives him a salacious and knowing wink, casting a sidelong glance at Evan. “You must be the reason our leader here is hiding instead of greeting the guests.”

Leader?

The new boy smiles at him, bringing his free hand up in a little wave of acknowledgment. “I’m Nate, by the way.” Nate squints, giving him a careful once-over, and Nick feels like squirming, getting the distinct feeling that he is being sized up though he doesn’t know for what. “You’re Nick, aren’t you?” Nate grins excitedly at the realization. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Madi.”

Nick furrows his brows thinking how does he know Madi and why Madi’s talking about him, getting more lost within the conversation by the second. “Madi said he’d be your type, and it looks like he was right. Fuck.” Nate lets out a string of profanity, “Fuck me, Evan. That means I owe her fifty bucks. So really, fuck you.” Nate narrows his eyes at Evan, who isn’t even trying to hide his mirth, chortling at his friend’s distressed expression. “Unless, you two dickwads set me up.”

Evan shakes his head. “No, man, I didn’t even know who he was until he gave me his name.”

“Fuck.” Nate lets out one last swear in a drawn out sigh, smiling fondly at Evan. “Well, I hate to interrupt the overwhelming sexual tension between you two, but I do think our new president should give a speech at our first party of the year.”

“President?” Nick echoes the word without meaning to, the sound of loud buzzing in his ears drowning out the sound of everything else around them, noting the shit-eating grin on Evan’s face that is getting wider by the minute.

“Yeah, president of Chi Alpha Omega. You know, the ones hosting this party right now.”

Nick can feel the color draining from his face, accompanied by some wooziness in his head. Madi had told him about the president of ΧΑΩ before, about how he “got around” quite frequently, always with someone new every other weekend. And apparently in no short supply of people who want to casually hook-up with him. In short, a player through and through. And Nick can’t tell whether he’s disappointed that Evan is probably not interested in any type of relationship or just excited that the boy is likely a really good fuck. Or both.

But none of that really even matters because he had literally called Evan’s house a shithole.

Fuck.

Evan winks at him before turning to Nate. “Yeah, I can definitely say a few words. And by the way, Nick here thinks we should probably stop spraying beer into the crowd to hype up the party.” He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the overly serious and solemn expression on Evan’s face as he says that. “Apparently we’ve been wasting alcohol when we could be using it to get everyone even more drunk.” Nick wants to sink into the floor at the other boy’s next words, hoping desperately that the ground can swallow him up.

“And he’s also made me aware of the fact that apparently, we live in a shithole.”

Nate’s eyes go wide. Nick wants to kill himself.

“Well, not exactly a lie.” Nate laughs, clearly bemused by his worried expression. “We’ve been trying to get administration to move us out of this shithole for ages. They just won’t do it. So we figure if we throw a few extra ragers this year, and this dumpster fire of a house finally breaks, maybe they’ll consider letting us have a different building for the frat house.”

“Wait, so…” Nick says the words slowly, his head slow to catch up, not quite believing what he’s hearing. “…you all actually want to break this house. Like that’s your actual plan, and I’m not stuck in some weird-ass twilight zone time warp imagining this.”

“Correct.” Evan nods.

“You all are fucking crazy.”

“Correct.”

“Sooo, about that speech Evan?” Nate asks, stealing another glance at Nick. “Any time soon? Or am I assuming that you’re gonna be busy for the next hour or so?”

The implication makes him half-cringe on the inside. Is it that obvious?

“Yeah, of course, now is fine.” And then Nick feels the other boy’s hand around his, Evan’s fingers settling to interlock with his naturally as if they belong there, warm and inviting. A little overly warm, probably the alcohol. But it feels nice, gives him the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest for the first time in a long time. “You’re coming with me, baby.” Nick wants to protest the nickname, but he isn’t given the opportunity to, finding himself being dragged along by the taller boy, weaving through the crowd of people deftly, trying to keep close to the other boy’s back, his free hand reaching out to grab the untucked edge of Evan’s t-shirt. The other boy heads to the kitchen, passing by the crowd that is busy dancing, flirting, and Nick reminds himself to yell at Madi tomorrow, spotting his best friend out of the corner of his eye still attached to the face of a guy.

The kitchen is slightly less crowded, the only people slipping in and out to grab more beer or shots, the entire kitchen counter covered with half empty alcohol—rum, vodka, gin, whiskey. God, how much booze do they have? Evan doesn’t let go of his hand as he opens the fridge, rummaging around before finally coming up with another handle of vodka. The taller boy just shakes his head as Nate gives him a questioning look. And then Nick follows as he is dragged along again, making their way back to the living room, heading straight towards the epicenter of all the noise in the house. Evan finally lets go of his hand, and Nick feels a twinge of concern as he watches the other boy climb up onto the ping pong table, ignoring the cry of protests from the people playing beer pong. No way he’s sober enough for this. Somehow Evan’s voice is louder than the music, his voice floating above the noise.

“Hey, we having fun tonight?” The cheers and hoots rise up from the crowd, Evan clearly reveling in the attention, waving his arms to tell everyone to pump up the noise, and they do. After a minute or so of cheering, the other boy puts his finger to his lips in a shushing motion, quieting the crowd.

“Here’s to the first party of many this year for Chi Alpha Omega. As the president for this year, hope to see all of you underclassmen at rush in the spring.” Evan grins, and Nick hates that the other boy is so charismatic, everyone in the room turning to hang on to his every word. “And to kick off a good night, how about yours truly start off a round of body shots?” The crowd hoots and hollers. “First up, my newest friend, Nick.” He feels himself outright blushing this time, Evan looking downwards to wink at him, some of the people in the front of the crowd turning to stare.

He startles as Evan jumps down from the ping pong table, landing unevenly, grabbing on to his shoulder for balance before scooting back on to the table to take a seat, his legs hanging off the edge. “How about it, baby?”

And he’s about to object, but his mind goes completely blank as Evan crosses his arms over his chest, gripping the hem of his t-shirt in order to pull it up over his head, the other boy’s arm muscles tightening. The skin above Evan’s jeans comes into view first, the white band of the other boy’s Calvin Klein boxers just peeking out from the top, a sharp contrast from the smooth tan of Evan’s skin on top and the black of his jeans on the bottom. Nick can see a glimpse of the other boy’s hip bones, sharp and defined, and his gaze trails further upward to his belly button, abs slightly visible as Evan moves, and all the way up to the other boy’s chest.

But it’s the tattoo that makes Nick stop breathing.

It’s intricate, clearly well done and by a tattoo artist that cares about how the finished product looks, a revolver with its barrel pointing downwards, the tip disappearing under the white of the other boy’s boxers. And Nick doesn’t think he’s ever had a specific thing for guns. But fuck. Because he wants to think that he’s better than this, better than having the only thought running through his head being it’s pointing to his cock. And the overwhelming urge to find out just exactly how true it is.

“You’re up, baby.” The words make Nick snap his glance upwards, tearing his gaze away from the ink on the other boy’s skin, the embarrassment flitting through him as he realizes how long he had been staring, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by Evan, who is grinning at him, definitely amused. He’s already poured the shot, messily spilling at least two shot’s worth of vodka on the ping pong table, and Nick experiences a stroke of utter insanity, the words coming out before he can stop them.

“You should probably clean that up.”

“Hmm, maybe later.”

“It’s going to get sticky.”

“Maybe I like sticky.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that the whole scene is probably bizarre as fuck, talking about cleaning while the whole room is waiting for him to take a shot off a boy he doesn’t even know. But Nick feels as if he’s in a haze, entirely blocking out the rest of the room as Evan crooks a finger at him, motioning for him to get closer, the other boy’s legs parting on the table, stretching apart to give him room to fit in between, and Nick is uncomfortably aware of Evan’s jeans, the material stretching over the other’s boy’s thighs, even tighter now that Evan is sitting.

“Come.”

He comes.

The shiver of arousal runs through him as he gets closer, coming up to the edge of the table, Evan winking at him as he squeezes Nick’s sides slightly with his thighs, making the feeling curl deliciously in his groin. And the other boy lies down slowly, not breaking eye contact with Nick as he does, and god help him, because it only makes the outline of the other boy’s abs deepen. Fuck. The shot glass is placed right over Evan’s belly button, wobbling as the other boy breathes in and out, and Nick winces as Evan starts off a chant of encouragement.

“Drink, drink, drink.”

Fuck it, it’s just one shot.

He doesn’t try to overthink it, leaning down with his head to clumsily grasp the shot glass with his mouth, intending on throwing his head back and downing the vodka all at once. He tells himself it doesn’t mean anything as he braces his palms against the other boy’s thighs, enjoying the feeling of muscle underneath his hands. But he’s not used to the motion, not able to use his hands, and he ends up spilling half of it, feeling Evan’s thighs tense around his waist as the cold liquid hits the other boy’s bare skin, some of the vodka settling into the crevices of Evan’s abs, already starting to slide off his body.

Nick doesn’t know why he does it.

But the next instant, his tongue is on Evan’s skin, feeling the other boy tense as he does it, licking the rest of the vodka off of the other boy, the feeling of burning still in the back of his throat from the half he does drink, dipping his tongue in to run along the grooves of Evan’s abs, the slight saltiness of the other boy’s sweat mixing with the taste of alcohol. And he’s pressing half-kisses, half sloppy licks against the other boy’s skin, the tips of his fingers reaching upwards from where they’re resting against Evan’s thighs to brush against the boy’s sharp hipbones, an inch or so above his jeans.

As he dips his tongue into his belly button, Evan bucks his hips upwards, the wanting movement making the arousal go straight to his cock. And he tells himself it’s because he’s trying to clean every last bit of vodka off of Evan’s body, but it isn’t the alcohol giving him a high as he runs the tip of his tongue slowly down the barrel of the gun tattoo that Evan has, the thought of going further and further down until he reaches the other boy’s cock making him hot and dizzy. The thought of Evan holding his head down and tugging on his hair as he gives the other boy a blowjob. Further, further. Evan squirms as he licks his way downwards over the exposed skin, and Nick wonders if it tickles, his nose already nudging the edge of the other boy’s boxers.

A bad fucking idea.

And he’s just about to pull away, the feeling of regret mixed with horror hitting him as he surfaces from his reckless decision, half-aware that they’re still in a very public room for the first time since Evan had told him Come, when he feels it. Evan half-hard against his palm, his hand accidentally brushing too close to the other boy’s inner thighs as he tries to move back, and before he can process that fact, everything around him moves.

Nick yelps as he feels Evan’s hands on the back of his thighs, dangerously close to his ass, and he’s suddenly being lifted up into the air, his legs coming up to wrap themselves around the other boy’s waist, his hands grabbing at Evan’s shoulders to balance himself. He vaguely hears the sound of catcalls coming from the crowd, his head falling forward, his face buried into the crook of the other boy’s neck, the smell of beer in Evan’s hair and that smell of wood and vanilla. A few quick strides, and Nick finds his back up against the wall for the second time tonight, Evan’s hips pressed into him, grinding him up against the wall as he plants kisses against Nick’s neck.

The other boy is definitely completely hard now, the feeling against his thigh each time Evan moves his hips making the arousal tighten in Nick’s groin. And it’s a fleeting thought, that he is grateful for wearing a white tank top, giving Evan free access, the other boy’s tongue darting out to run itself along the top of Nick’s collarbones, sucking likely-to-be-hickeys into his skin hungrily.

His fingers curl themselves into the other boy’s hair for purchase, needing something to grab onto as he writhes in Evan’s embrace, his eyes closed, his breath coming out ragged. An unbidden moan comes forth as he feels Evan sneak his hands underneath his tank top, the other boy’s fingers splayed against the skin at his waist, his thumbs digging into the spot just above his hipbones. Evan’s hands feel hot against his skin, burning into him more than he thought possible, and Nick’s eyes flutter open only to remember that everyone is still there, that they’re not alone.

“W-wait,” The words come out weakly in between little pants and far too soft for Evan to hear anyway, and Nick wonders if the idea of the other boy fucking him against the wall in front of a crowd of people should turn him on as much as it does. Fuck.

“Get a fucking room!”

The loud jeer seems to snap Evan out of it, the other boy stopping his attack against Nick’s neck long enough for him to catch his breath. Most of the room has gone back to whatever they were doing before, and it’s nearly impossible to pick out whoever had yelled it. “Don’t mind if I do.” Evan grins at him, not waiting for a proper response. “Hold on.” Nick just manages to get his arms around Evan’s shoulders before the other boy starts moving, hoisting him up slightly to get a better grip on the underside of his thighs, Evan’s chin nestled into his shoulder, the other boy’s breathing hot on his neck.

The sounds of the party slowly start to fade away as they ascend the stairs to the second floor, the stairway narrow and not lit, and Nick winces as he is jostled against the wall a few times on their way up, Evan’s steps not as steady he would have hoped. All he can hear now is the other boy’s breathing, slow and deep, the sound comforting, and Nick breathes in and out to match the other boy’s. I wonder if Madi was right, and I’m his type. And he’s sure that he’s Evan’s type physically, the whole display downstairs has convinced him of that, but for the first (okay, maybe second or third) time tonight, he has the niggling suspicion that he might like it if he is Evan’s type for more, the way the other boy puts him at ease so naturally and effortlessly perhaps giving him more butterflies than he’d care to admit.

His mind unwillingly flashes him scenes on what it would be like dating Evan. Would he like his eggs scrambled or poached? What shows would they binge together? Would Evan show him off to his frat brothers?

Evan licks a stripe behind his ear where he’s most sensitive. Ah, fuck it. Who cares about dating? Nick knows he’s going to get fucked till he forgets his own name tonight.

tags: @thenickgirl @mybelovednick @sukiipjs

#nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo x oc #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x male reader #nick sturniolo fanfiction

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neoarchipelago · 1 year

Text

And they were roommates part 2

A/N: well well well... If it isn't the latest manic episode from my brain. Anyways enjoy...

TW: none..? Angst, cuz bwahahah I'm mean.

here's part one

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You sat hugging tightly your fluffy pillow against your chest. The living room was plunged into darkness, the tv being the only thing shining through the room. It was a little after midnight, and you were completely alone. Ghost had warned you that he'd be home late so you wouldn't make dinner for him. You still did though.

First you had wanted to go sleep or maybe play a bit on your consoles but you were quickly bored. You weren't exactly waiting for him… no. You just… wanted to make sure he had eaten. Yes. That was it.

So here you were. Sitting on the couch, in front of a horror movie. Not the best idea, but nothing was interesting enough at this hour.

You had mixed feelings about horror movies. But one thing was for sure. Right now, you hated them. Your morbid curiosity made you unable to change channels though.

Your eyes were glued to the screen. You watched as the woman was hiding. You felt your skin crawl at the idea. Perhaps was it even exciting? No. You brushed that thought away. The silence from the movie and the house was almost suffocating. Time seemed to stretch, the seconds feeling like minutes.

Something in the corner of your eyes caught your attention. Just as the movie's music suddenly rang to break the suspense you glance to your left, the tall silhouette standing next to the couch clearly visible.

The scream escaping your lips was expected. The pillow thrown? Maybe not so much.

The silhouette launched itself on top of you, a strong body keeping you from escaping as a gloved hand draped over your mouth, keeping you from screaming.

"Sparrow!"

You stopped squirming at the voice. Your racing heart and quickened breath was the only thing heard. The tv remote had fallen and muted the film when you had started fighting the intruder. But there was no intruder.

"It's me. Breathe." He said in a soothing voice.

Tears burned your eyes. As he lifted his hand from your mouth, a whine escaped your lips.

"Ghost…" you whispered.

"Yes.. I'm sorry. I.. I didn't mean to scare you." He tried, his voice still low.

The situation was now clearer. His body trapped yours as you both laid on the couch. Your hands were fisted in his hoodie, hanging on for dear life. He was wearing a simple balaclava with a skull print, he sometimes wore it around the house. His eyes had a mixture of concern and determination.

"Sparrow." He called, trying to keep your focus on him.

"I would never hurt you." His voice sounded calm. Normal. Thinking that you could hear a little fear in it was just your imagination. What could he be scared of? That you wouldn't believe him? That you'd actually be scared of… no.

"I know" you threw back at him. For some reason, even though it had only been a little over a month since you shared the appartement, you were absolutely sure without a single doubt that he wouldn't hurt you.

He softly sat back, making you let go of his hoodie. He pulled you up with him, making you sit next to him.

You took a deep breath.

"Are you ok?" He asked.

"Yeah… I hate horror movies."

"Why are you watching one then?"

"Because I'm obviously an idiot who loves to wake up the whole base by screaming bloody murder at 1 am."

He chuckled.

He chuckled. He rarely did. Had you even heard him chuckle before?

He eyed you.

"I didn't know what time you'd be home. You surprised me." You said matter of factly.

"Yes. I think the whole base figured that out." He teased.

You rolled your eyes at him. You glanced back to notice him staring at you.

"What..?"

No answer.

"Ghost? You really do have a staring problem, you know you-"

His gloved hand rose to your face, his thumb softly brushing a tear that had rolled down your cheek. You didn't even feel it fall. You blinked. He didn't let anything show but somehow, just a little bit, you could feel he felt guilty.

"I'm a crybaby… sorry" you joked. Trying to lighten the mood.

"Next time I'll call the base, I'll know when to expect you" you laughed.

He still didn't react. He simply glanced down at the coffee table. He grabbed something from it.

"Unlock it." He ordered. God was he bossy sometimes.

You looked down at your phone in his hand. You frowned but did as he asked. You watched him type something before handing it back to you. You looked at the screen, reading the contact infos on it.

Lieutenant Ghost Riley.

Riley… your heart jumped in your chest. Riley. He was giving you his last name.

"Call me next time. Or text me. If I don't text you." he said.

You looked up at him, smiling softly.

"Yes lieutenant."

He cleared his throat.

"By the way. A pillow is not a good weapon. Next time throw the popcorn bowl at least."

Your cheeks turned to a light shade of red, remembering your reflex as you were scared.

"Sorry.."

"Please ! I'm really bored!" You whined following the masked man. He sighed.

"Sparrow. Stop." He warned.

You groaned exaggeratedly. It had been a week after he made you scream at the top of your lungs at 1 am. You had received a little visit from two soldiers, no less than 20 minutes later, ready to berate you for waking up the apartment complex. Fortunately for you, they quickly retracted once the lieutenant had shown up behind you, admitting it was his fault. They both apologized, looking shocked, immediately recognizing him by his mask. Funny. Wonder what they were thinking, I mean, he did make you scream.

"I promise, it'll be great. I'll show you how to do it… we can have some fun!" You tried, batting your lashes at him.

He glanced at you. His eyes showed annoyance yet no anger.

"If I accept, are you going to stop whining?" He asked.

You nodded frantically.

You had noticed his slight behavior change since the movie night. He was a little more gentle. A little more… clingy? He spent a bit more time around you, even if no words were exchanged. Sometimes he'd even do push-ups in the living room while you read a book.

He groaned. You smiled widely. You won! He accepted it! No… you were not using this new change of behavior to befriend him at all. Who would think that?

You jumped on the couch, patting the space next to you. He walked around it and sat next to you. Grabbing the vibrating object on the coffee table he gazed at you darkly.

"You're gonna owe me for this."

You bit your lip. Turning to the tv you started to explain the controls of the game.

Yes. He accepted. He was playing Mario kart with you. You kept jumping in place.

After a good 40 minutes, ghost leaned forward. You had lost your gigglyness. You both were fighting for first place. You didn't even notice how serious ghost had gotten about this game. It didn't even hit you that he was actually enjoying himself.

"Fuckin hell…" he cursed.

You had your bottom lip into a torturing bite. It had turned a deep reddish color from all the times your adrenaline caused you to bite it. You were kneeling on the couch next to him, too excited to even sit still.

Finally reaching the finish line you jumped happily. Ghost groaned, letting himself fall back into the couch. You leaned forward to him on all fours. He stared at your frame, eyes resting on your lips.

"I win lieutenant! You're gonna have to be better than that…" you teased a smirk on said lips.

Silence fell for a second. You saw the gaze he had on your lips. Did you hurt yourself? You let your tongue pass on it, not tasting any blood on it. The move made him frown.

"Ghost..?" You asked, unsure if he was mad.

He glanced up. His gaze had darkened and it sent a delicious shiver down your spine. But as quickly as you noticed it, it was gone. Perhaps you had imagined it.

"Revenge?" He asked.

You smiled. Shaking the thought off your mind.

"You bet!"

___

You stared at the screen in front of you. You wanted to finish the stupid report on your latest task. Unfortunately your mind kept running over the latest events.

Things had remained pretty friendly with Ghost. The teasing, the gaming and sharing food. But for the past week something had changed.

You clung to the blanket covering your shoulders as you sat on the couch. The file opened on your lap. The cold had settled slowly, December finally rolling in. You wondered if it would snow this year.

Ghost had been distant. Cold. You tried not to take it personally because he probably had his own problems. But he hadn't eaten dinner with you for the past two days. He had brought breakfast and left for base without even sitting next to you.

You were worried… deep down, you were hurt. You missed the small bits of attention, his presence… you missed him. You sighed. Trying to focus back on the report.

A soft knock on the door made you frown, looking up. You sat there for a few seconds before another knock was heard. Dropping the file on the coffee table, you walked up to the door, unlocking it and opening it.

A man stood there, clearly a soldier from the base. His beard and funny hat made you smile.

"Oh… hi, I think I got the wrong apartment…" he said with the most adorable smile you saw on a man.

"Hi, who are you looking for? Maybe I can help." You answered.

"Hmm, I'm looking for Lieutenant Riley."

You nodded.

"You are in the right place actually. But he's not home at the moment."

The man stared at you for a moment.

"You… you are the roommate?"

You chuckled.

"You make it sound like I'm the Boogeyman… yes, I am the roommate." You smiled.

He chuckled.

"Well. It's a surprise and a pleasure to meet you. I'm captain John price" He presented his hand to you.

You extended yours to shake it.

"I'm… hum… sparrow…" you answered awkwardly with a sorry look.

He nodded, understanding the situation.

"Would you like to come in? He should be home soon." You invited.

"Oh, thank you, unfortunately I have somewhere else to be. He asked me to drop this file."

You looked down at the file, a big red 'confidential' stamped on it.

"Could you give it to him when he gets home? "

"Sure! No problem." You smiled, grabbing the file he was giving you.

"But… I have to ask. Don't open it. I trust that you'll do what's best. " He eyed you maliciously, without any hint of threat or negativity.

"Yes sir." You smiled.

He nodded one last time before bidding his goodbye.

Stepping back inside, you closed the door behind you. You slightly jumped as your phone rang. You cursed internally, this day was just stretching itself to no end.

Half an hour later you were dressed and ready to go to the base. There was an immediate need for your presence because of a potential security breach. You had dressed quickly, grabbing laptop, tablets and other electronics that might help you. Running around the living room, desperately trying to hurry up without forgetting anything. Throwing your coat on the counter, the sound of paper falling to the ground made you halt.

"God I hate this fucking report!"

Spinning around and dropping to the floor you started grabbing each sheet of paper, desperately trying to make them slip back into the file.

Suddenly you froze. The big red confidential staring at you. Oh no… no no no…

It wasn't your file. It wasn't your damn report.

"Fuck…"

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

You jumped, eyes flashing with shock as you noticed ghost standing at the entrance of the hallway.

"I-its not what you think! I made it fall! I swear I-"

"Shut up!"

You froze. The sting of the anger in his voice hurt a lot more than you expected.

He rushed to the ground next to you, grabbing every piece of paper, snatching the ones in your hand before standing up.

"Wait ! Please I-" you tried.

"I told you to shut up." He barked.

"Just let me explain!" You insisted.

"Explain what?!"

"I wouldn't do that to you ghost! We're …" you looked up at him from the ground, pleading eyes.

"What? Friends? You think we're friends?"

You bit your lip.

"We're not. Fucking wake up. And stay away from my shit." He snapped.

You sat there in shock as he walked past you. The sound of his bedroom slamming marking the start of the waterfalls. The silent tears burnt your cheeks.

Your phone rang once again, reminding you of your little emergency. You stood up in a hurry, grabbing all your things, slamming the front door on your way out.

You glanced at your watch. 2 am. You had been programming and coding for the past 6 hours, with very little breaks. You were exhausted. But the security breach had been fully secured and you had found a few clues on what or who was behind it.

It was time to head back home and let the rest of the team work on it.

Somehow you were anxious. You hoped he was asleep. That you could get in without facing him. You wanted to apologize again. You were mixed between fury and pain.

If you were honest you had been getting attached to him… you were enjoying spending time with him… how could you possibly think that he… would feel the same.

You bit your lip once more, trying to keep the tears at bay.

Turning the key in the lock you stepped inside the quiet house. Not a sound or a light. You sighed. Walking in the living room, flipping the switch, you looked around the now bright room. Everything was as you left it. Had he dinned?

You stepped in further into the room, dropping your coat on the couch. You let the silence drown you. Your eyes felt heavy.

You walked toward the fridge to grab a glass of water, noticing the file on the counter.

No red letters on top, and no report. It was a different file. This time you purposely opened it.

"Mission informations… south.. america?"

You blinked. He was gone. He went on a mission. He had left. Without a word. Or a text.

The first tears felt bitter. Rage first. And then sadness. He didn't care… he never did…

Worry settled in now… what if he never came back? No. No!

You sat on the stool, now fully crying. He was gone. Eyes glancing at the little wrapped gift next to your bag.

"Riley you stupid idiot…"

___

Tags:

@lemontails-blog @cabreezer0117 @tomhardy41 @brxghtixghtz @shuttlelauncher81 @pinkdazelight @sirenbunnylol @snortangeldust

#fanfics #ghost cod #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley #captain price #price cod #simon riley x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x reader #simon riley x y/n

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thatacotargirl · 17 days

Text

A Court of Emberfall and Starlight (1)

A warm welcome to A Court of Emberfall and Starlight! This series will explore Eris and Rhys' Sister Reader. I am beyond excited at what this new story will bring, I hope you follow along for the journey!

The character of Rhys' Sister Reader has experienced trauma from her time Under the Mountain. This is not explored in this chapter, but will be explored in future chapters. Please take care to read the warnings for each chapter before you begin.

A special thank you to @the-wall-willow for requesting this pairing 💜

Warnings: descriptions of a panic attack, allusions to trauma

An Eris x Rhys' Sister Reader Fanfiction

Reader POV

With the number of targets we have on our backs and the war with Hybern looming, it's no surprise that my brother has me under lock and key in our home.

It doesn't mean I have to be happy about it.

After Rhys and I came back from Under the Mountain, it was like a switch had flipped in his brain. We had always been the 'dynamic duo', as Cassian called us, scaring our parents half to death with our stupidly daring and adventurous antics. But, after what we went through, it was as though Rhys saw just how close to death we had been, and couldn't stand the thought. Our nighttime flights and audacious excursions ceased immediately and everywhere I went, one of Azriel's shadows followed closely behind. As the hostility between Courts increased, so did my protections, until now - where I am effectively under house arrest for the foreseeable future.

I love my brother and I know he worries, but if I have to spend another day trapped in these walls, I think I might scream.

"Y/N, ARE YOU READY YET?"

I'm pretty sure the entire population of Velaris just heard Cassian ask if I am ready. Looking in the mirror, I smooth down my black satin skirt and adjust the silver, cropped tank top. With a brief nod to myself, I head out of my bedroom and down to the living room, where Cassian is waiting to fly me to the River House.

I am living at the House of Wind at the minute, sharing a home with Cassian and Azriel. Rhys wanted me to stay at the River House with him and Feyre, but I argued that I needed my own space - largely so I didn't have to hear them every time I left the room. I mean, really, on the dining table? I eat breakfast there!

Rhys agreed to me moving into the House of Wind as long as I agreed to not leave without Cassian or Azriel accompanying me. Like I'd be able to otherwise... I am quite happy to walk down the 10,000 steps to the street, but walk back up 10,000 steps? Not a chance. I also have to do weekly check-ins with Rhys to make sure I am ok, especially after what happened Under the Mountain. I still haven't spoken about it with anyone, not even Rhys, and he treats me like a fragile snow globe as a result - worried that he'll say the wrong thing and I'll crash and burn.

Today, however, is a little different. Today we are all heading to the River House to discuss the plan for tomorrow's High Lord meeting. All the High Lords will be visiting the Night Court to talk battle preparations ahead of the impending Hybern threat. Now that the High Lords know about Velaris, and at Helion and Tarquin's insistence that they see it, Rhys offered to host as an olive-branch gesture to ensure their alliance should war break out.

"Ready".

You smile at Cassian as you approach and let him tuck his arms under your back and knees, before taking to the skies. You roll 180 degrees in his arms once you're flight-born so he is holding you with both hands under your stomach and your body facing down towards Velaris. It's one of your favourite ways to fly, letting your arms swing out in front of you like you have wings of your own. You can feel Cassian's chest shake with a chuckle as you hold your arms out like a bird, enjoying the way the wind feels around your face. You didn't inherit Rhys' ability to grow wings. In fact, you didn't seem to inherit Rhys' anything. Despite being almost a century old and technical heir to the Night Court, until Rhys and Feyre have their first child, you hadn't yet displayed a single power of your own.

Cassian lands gentle on the balcony of the River House and you give his shoulder a gentle pat in thanks before walking through to find your brother.

"RHYYYYYYSSAAAANNNNNNDDDDD"

"Cauldron, y/n, I'm right here".

You grin as Rhys rounds his office door and engulfs you in a bear hug.

"I've missed you".

"Yeah yeah, don't pull the soppy big brother bullshit on me now". But you hug him just that bit tighter.

"Thank you for coming, we could use your input for the meeting tomorrow".

"My input? Rhys, I'm flattered, but I'm as useful as a chocolate teapot for anything to do with you High Lords".

Rhys chuckles before ruffling your hair and pulling you into his office.

"You've always had a way with words, and we need to appease all the High Lords to make sure we're allied should Hybern strike. It's going to be hard enough with Tamlin attending, let alone Beron".

"Tamlin and Beron are coming?"

You shudder in mock horror, much to Rhys' amusement.

"Yes, both of them. And whilst I might be the one and only Night Court High Lord, no one holds a candle to you when it comes to pulling on heartstrings and having them wrapped around your finger".

He's not wrong. From the moment you were born, you had Rhys wrapped around your little finger. He was your built in best friend and protector. Once Cassian and Azriel joined the picture, you suddenly have 3 best friends and 3 protectors, all of whom would kill for you. Or run out to buy you ice cream at 2 in the morning. Or really anything else you asked them for.

"Fine, I'll help".

"That's my girl. Will you stay here tonight? It would be nice to have you stay for dinner".

"I'd like that. What time will dinner be?"

"7pm - and it'll just be you, me, and Feyre. Cassian has gone to join Az in Windhaven and they won't be back until tomorrow morning now; and Feyre should be home from the studio at around 6ish".

You nod in response and turn to leave, letting Rhys carry on with whatever he was working on at his desk. Looking at the clock as you leave his office, you see that it's only 3pm. A mischievous smile crosses your face as you turn back, checking that Rhys has his back to you, before turning left out of his office towards the front door. Opening it as quietly as you can, you take one last look behind you, before making a break for it.

Velaris at 3pm in the early autumn is one of the most special times. There is a slight chill in the air, but the sun still warms you enough to be comfortable. The trees are turning, their red, orange and yellow colours filling your sight as far as you can see. Autumn might just be one of your favourite times of the year, besides Starfall and the Winter Solstice, naturally.

You want to get your brother and Feyre a gift, or maybe dessert for tonight, but you don't want them to know that you snuck out of the House alone against their instructions. Sighing, you decide that you might as well make the most of it, and enjoy a cup of coffee and a slice of cake at your favourite bakery on the Rainbow. You make your way there, walking in a happy daze, watching the rest of Velaris' citizens bustling about with their day. It makes you smile, seeing how happy everyone looks. But with each smiling face, you're reminded of what you had to do to guarantee it. What you had to sacrifice for it. You feel your steps start to falter and you slow down, suddenly feeling an anxiety you hadn't realised was brewing in your chest at the thought of entering the bakery and speaking with the staff. You feel your chest tighten and your breathing become ragged.

Not again.

Looking around, you can't find anywhere private to hide. Although he will be furious, you attempt to call to Rhys, but you're met with a solid, obsidian wall - no doubt in concentration as he prepares for tomorrow's meeting.

You can sense your legs beginning to heat and a jelly-like feeling starts to pass over them. You need to find somewhere to sit, or you will go down in the middle of the street.

Approaching the edge of the Sidra, you drop to the railing, trying to gulp in air but feeling like your lungs are suffocating. You can't get control of your breaths, and your heart is speeding at rapid pace, making everything around you fade in and out of focus. Tears stream down your face and everything hurts.

"Hey, you're safe, you're safe".

A hand gently touches your shoulder, deepening the pressure there once they see you don't flinch away. Grounding you.

"Tell me 5 things you can see".

"The Sidra, the Rainbow, the Book Store, the clouds, my hands".

"Good, now 4 things you can feel".

"The grass, the railing, the wind, the ground, my skirt"

"3 things you can hear".

"The water, the people, you".

"2 things you can smell".

"Coffee and cinnamon".

"1 thing you can taste".

"The pastry I had for breakfast".

You feel the stranger laugh next to you.

"What pastry?"

"It was a custard pastry".

"Was it nice?"

You chuckle. "Yes, it was".

"How are you feeling?"

You check in with yourself, and are surprised to notice that the panic attack has stopped. Your heart is still definitely beating faster than it should be, but you don't feel the impending sense of doom, and your breathing has slowly returned back to normal.

"Better, thank you. How did you do that?"

"My brother has panic attacks sometimes, I use that to help him too".

You look up to lock eyes with the stranger, and kneeling in front of you is the most handsome male you have ever seen. You see a shine flare across his eyes as he studies your face. The male clearly isn't from here. If his red hair wasn't a giveaway, his clothes would have been. Exquisitely embroidered and tailored to fit his body to perfection, it features detailed patterns of flames and red leaves.

The Muse of Autumn. You make a note to share the image with Feyre and ask her to paint him.

"Thank you".

"You're most welcome".

The stranger helps you to your feet, making sure to check you are steady before he lets go of your arms.

"Would you like me to walk you home?".

You consider the offer, but Rhys is already going to be angry if he realises that you left the house by yourself, let alone if your return with a random male in tow.

"I'll be ok, thank you though".

"My pleasure ...?"

"Y/n".

"My pleasure, y/n".

The stranger bows gently to you before walking away towards the coffee shop. As you start to make your way back to the house, bracing yourself for Rhys' fury, you realise you never asked the stranger for his name in return.

#a court of frost and starlight #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #a court of wings and ruin #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #eris x reader #eris x y/n #eris acotar #eris vanserra #rhys sister

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lovelybucky1 · 8 months

Text

Insignificant

kinktober day 14- bondage

warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT- non con, AFAB!Reader, handcuffs, vaginal reader, finger sucking, rough treatment, 18+ minors DNI

main masterlist

kinktober masterlist

Anakin Skywalker was no longer the man you knew. He was a great warrior, a general, an upstanding person, a kind soul, a Jedi, and most importantly, a friend. He was never meant to be a mechanical killing machine for Darth Sidious to lead around on a leash.

You managed to escape the violence of Order 66, though not without sustaining injuries of your own. For months after the massacre you saw visions of Anakin with orange glowing eyes in your dreams. The screams of children could be heard in the background. You were haunted.

You know some of the other Jedi escaped, though you don't know who or where they went. Being a Jedi is a death sentence these days, so it's better to lay low and not know anything more than absolutely necessary.

Unfortunately, laying low on an outer rim planet where you live off the grid on your own little farm isn't low enough for the Empire. You returned from the forest with a basket of berries and mushrooms to add to your stockpile when you found your house burning, your animals slaughtered, and Darth Vader himself standing among the flames.

After seeing the brutal events of Order 66, you took not being killed on sight as a blessing. The stormtroopers surrounded you, grabbing your arms and forcing you to your knees before Vader. The dark mask was expressionless, but the tilt of his head to the side made you feel like a wounded animal he was about to put down.

"Take them to the ship," he said in a modulated voice. He sounded nothing like the man you knew.

You were hauled aboard the massive ship that they carelessly landed in a field of wild flowers. It was almost poetic how this hunk of machine destroyed something natural and beautiful.

Once the hatch of the ship closed, you accepted that your fate was sealed. You were brought to a cell in the bowels of the ship and abandoned, left with your own thoughts and restricted by force-blocking cuffs.

You were alone for hours until someone came by. You heard the sound of heavy boots banging against the metal grate floor, but it wasn't until you heard the heavy breathing that you turned your attention towards the intruder.

"Jedi," he says as a form of greeting.

You glare at him through the bars of your cell. "Vader."

He says nothing more. He only stands there, emotionless and unmoving. Anakin must have learned patience through his transformation, because the man you knew hated silence.

"Why am I still alive?" you ask. You'd rather be dead than be taken prisoner and be forced to work for the Empire. "You killed all the others. Why not me?"

"He wants you," Vader says crypticly.

"Who does?" you ask.

"Your friend," he says.

Anakin. He's in there somewhere, obviously, and he wants to save you. Maybe this is his way of making up for his atrocities, by making right with you. It could never be enough, but it comforts you to know the monster before you isn't entirely evil.

The door to your cell slides open and Vader steps in, looking like a giant as he towers over your slumped form on the floor. You look up at him but you can't get a read on him. The cuffs block any force sensitivity so you can't even feel him. The door shuts behind him, trapping you in a small box with the face of evil.

"He cares for you," Vader says. "He wants to protect you." It warms your heart in a weird way to hear him say that. "But you are insignificant to me."

Vader reaches down and grabs you by the roots of your hair. He tugs harshly until your scrambling to find your footing and stand so he doesn't rip out your hair.

He dwarfs you. You never noticed how large he was until you were face to face, mere inches apart.

Vader pushes you back roughly, sending you slamming into the wall. Your body crushes your arms that are bound behind your back and you whimper in pain.

"He will watch me destroy you," Vader says as he advances, crowding you against the wall.

He brings his hand down to the waistband of your pants and tugs, effortlessly ripping them off. Your underwear receive the same treatment, though the pull on your skin is painful.

He kicks your legs apart with his boots. The heavy, hard material on your exposed ankles hurts like a bitch, but there's nothing you can do about it other than scream.

Vader shoves his gloved hand between your thighs and carelessly invades your cunt with his thick fingers. You cry out in pain, beg him to stop and for someone to help, but you know it's useless. Everyone here does Vader's bidding, and disobeying their lord is an instant death sentence.

He grows tired of your crying, so he shuts you up by restricting your throat with the force. You have enough air to breathe, but not enough to speak.

You look into the blank helmet with teary eyes, hoping that somehow you can connect with Anakin. You know he's in there, you just have to bring him out.

Vader's fingers split you open painfully. You don't know what he has underneath the suit, but you fear that it will be even worse than the treatment being done to you now. When he pulls his hand away, your creamy juices coat the black glove.

He grabs your jaw and squeezes hard, forcing you to open your mouth. He shoves the wet fingers inside for you to clean, tasting yourself off of them. It's disgusting and degrading, but you're helpless to resist.

When he pulls his fingers out, his glove glistens with your spit. A string of it connects your lip to his glove and when it breaks, it falls against your chin.

Vader drops his hand and you're left staring up at him. The panel of his chest presses against yours uncomfortably, digging into you. You're legs are shaking, not from pleasure but from a mix of fear and the ache in your pussy.

Vader then grabs you by the shoulder and pushes you down, sending you sprawling onto the metal floor. He turns his back to you and the door opens again. Wordlessly, he leaves you alone once again, his heavy boots echoing down the corridor.

#star wars #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #darth vader #darth vader fanfic #darth vader fanfiction #darth vader x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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beomie3 · 9 months

Text

drive - choi yeonjun

pairing: best friend! yeonjun x reader

summary: life at home isn't the easiest, so one night you sneak out with your best friend yeonjun and he takes you on a late night drive.

content: best friends to lovers, late night drive & ocean vibe, fluff, some angst, mild cursing, tender embraces, sweetheart yeonjun <3

wc: 2.6k

♬ soundtrack:

otw - khalid

drive all night - joan

made in hollywood - lany

drive - glades

racetrack - carwash

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

your eyes: puffy, swollen, and red. cheeks tight from layers of dried tears as you stare up at the glow-in-the-dark star-speckled ceiling of your bedroom.

you hear your parents yell at one another from your bed and a small stream of fresh tears pave their way along the dried ones of your cheeks, turning up the volume of your music to drown out the racket.

it's 11 pm and it's all pouring out of you now. tears, stifled cries. you lay alone; the only being to comfort you is your dog, who tries to get up from her place on the floor when she hears your heavy breathing and sniffles you so direly try to keep down.

you feel that you can't get any of these emotions out to your parents because they'll make a big deal out of it — make you feel that feelings like yours don't and shouldn't exist within you. as if they are ones to talk.

each night you listen to them bicker and argue; feelings of despair only welling up inside you over the years.

trapped within your own home and emotions, having to deal with all of them on your own; having no real outlet except for your tear-stained pillow, some tissues, and your own voice in your head conversing with itself, practically screaming it wants you to get out of the house. get away from it all.

you feel like your life is complete shit, wallowing away in the nagging pit of loneliness caused by never opening up to anyone.

well, maybe not anyone.

and just like you summoned him, your phone dings. you found yourself with a sliver of hope that it might be someone instead of just another dumb instagram notification.

the name yeonjun🦊 on your phone screen brings that sliver of hope to your night. texting or talking to your best friend would surely distract you from the shit show happening in the room over.

🦊: attatchment: 1 video

you clicked the message open, finding a video of your dark-blue-haired boy dancing to his current favorite song as it had come on the radio as he was at a red light; a smile immediately spreading across your face like a wildfire.

you watched him lip-sync the words to otw by khalid perfectly, nodding his head energetically along with the beat. some part of you wished you were there. right there next to him singing along.

you: wish i was there xx

you lay back on your bed, phone face down on your chest as you sighed. contemplating whether or not you should dump all of these pent up emotions onto yeonjun, like you sometimes did because you knew he was always there to listen. he was the only one that you trusted with your deepest, darkest secrets and emotions, anyway.

a small smile crept onto your face at the memory of him in the video; he always helped cheer you up. your phone vibrated on your chest so you picked it up again.

🦊: attatchment: 1 photo

a photo of... your house??? you nearly tripped over a pile of laundry as you jumped out of your bed at lightning speed, peeking out of your blinds to find yeonjun's black mercedes parked right outside. you profusely typed on your phone screen, smile burning on your cheeks, heart racing.

you: yeonjun my parents will kill me!!

🦊: they don't have to know...

and with that, you muffled a laugh with the back of your hand. you literally would do anything to get out of your house right now. it was like he could read your mind. thank you, junie. you mentally thanked him as you quickly tied your shoes, pulling a sweatshirt on and locking your door.

you giggled, realizing that the prior video of him lip-syncing the lyrics i’ll be on the way was meant to be taken literally.

you quietly pushed open your window, gingerly sliding your body out of the little space that it allowed. once you landed on your feet and tip-toed over to the black car where he awaited, a burst of adrenaline kicked in.

you finally felt free.

the fresh scent of his car, his glistening smile in the passing street lamps, the comfort of his presence next to you alongside the leather seat you nestled in; you couldn't wipe the smile off your face even if you tried.

"you seriously rescued me, jun," you hugged his arm as a greeting, quickly securing your seatbelt before he drove off into the quiet neighborhood.

"yeah? how's everything going tonight?" he flicked his eyes over to you, half a smile on his lips. yeonjun knew all about your situation at home with your parents; he's known you since your family was once happy and that was years ago.

"i think i heard plates shatter again," you sighed, rolling the window down to trail your fingers through the wind.

"jesus, y/n. i'm so sorry," you felt his eyes upon you as you watched distant neighborhoods out the window grow smaller. although your home life did indeed suck, right now, it all melted away. it felt good to escape from it all.

you looked over at a worried-looking yeonjun, giving his leg a gentle pat. "i'll be okay," you smiled, and he looked back at you briefly; eyes holding yours gently.

through all the years, he couldn't fathom how you handled all of this and still kept that bright smile on your face. how you even mustered up the courage to say it'll all be okay. he slightly smiled, nodding at your reassurance. he promised himself to be here for you. always.

"enough about me, where we headed?" you leaned back in your seat, legs propped up, getting comfortable in the cool leather. it's like the seat had molded to your body with how much you sat in it.

"that's for me to know and for you to find out," he grinned, keeping focus on the road, slightly wincing when you lightly punched him on the arm. his laughter filled the car like music to your ears.

"fine. but we need some music," you cranked up the car volume, rocking your head with the beat, hand out the window to feel the soft air against your skin. drive all night by joan seemed to fit the scene perfectly as it reverberated through the car.

"now this is what i'm talking about." you began to feel your body melt into the seat as your shoulders relaxed, your breathing slow and rhythmic. you already felt happier, calmer; how you always felt with yeonjun.

he turned the volume up a bit more when another of your favorite songs came on -- knowing you'd always blast this song in your earbuds. he drove you through the dark city with the windows down, music blasting as you sing along with it and absolutely jam.

you couldn't help but glance over at him as he drove and sang to the song with his entire soul. driving with one hand, dark blue hair parting over his eyes mysteriously as his beautiful smile beamed like the moon high in the sky.

"i think a late night drive calls for..."

"icecreammm!" you completed his sentence and he could almost feel your smile radiating from next to him. he knew ice cream would cheer you up because it always did.

and so he drove you, fuzzy socks up on the dash as you leaned back in the seat, occasionally looking over at yeonjun as he eyed you when your favorite song blasted through the speakers, both singing it so loudly.

something about him; the way he sits so confidently and focuses on the road, effortlessly and also multitasking; driving with one hand while holding an imaginary microphone in the other and singing so beautifully into it.

you felt a weird sensation in your chest, something you hadn't felt in such a long time; a sparkle that spread into your stomach and made your cheeks grow warm. butterflies.

yeonjun had driven you to the beach, the most popular beach in the city known for its ice cream shop that stayed open extra late. it was one of your favorite places.

the ocean at night was rather eerie you admitted, but something about it; pitch black and mysterious, only making itself known through the sound of water folding and crashing together. it made your heart race. similar to the giddy boy next to you.

"so you'll eat half of my ice cream but won't let me taste yours??" yeonjun laughed, eyes nearly closed from smiling, pearly white teeth on full display. you swear your cheeks hurt with how much you smiled, almost as if he was healing something within you that hadn't seen light in years.

the light of his smile. it cured you.

you turned your back to him in a faux pout, waiting for him to wrestle his ice cream cone out of your hand. and boy did he ever, wrapping his arms around you from behind so that the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his button up engulfed you, nearly picking you up off the ground.

you freed yourself from his grasp and began running, both barefoot through the sand, shoes and socks long abandoned by the dock.

the sea spray was chilly at this hour, subtly misting your skin after each crash at the shore, cold water barely skimming your feet.

"yaaaaa!" he yelled after you, his pretty laugh ringing through the air as he ran as fast as he could behind you, arms out and yearning to grasp at your shirt.

at last he grabbed a hold of you, causing the two of you to topple to the soft sand, sending his ice cream cone flying out of your grasp and it was too late to be saved. but right now, it was the least of your worries when yeonjun landed right on top of you, tension suddenly rising as his nose was only inches from yours.

it felt like an eternity passed as he just hovered over you, eyes flicking to each of your eyes. your breath hitched in your throat, pupils dilated and not daring to look any place other than the depths of his brown eyes.

it wasn't until his eyes flicked down to your lips that you felt the butterflies in your stomach multiply by a thousand, face growing hot at the sheer tension.

you couldn't help but travel your gaze down to admire his plush lips, knowing that this wasn't the first time you looked at them and wondered what they would feel like on yours.

his finger gently tucked away a strand of stray hair from of your face, thumb sweeping over the plush of your bottom lip and you knew what you wanted in this moment. what you've wanted since you stepped foot into his car and realized there wasn't anyone who understood you like this beautiful boy.

lifting your head from the sand, you crashed your lips to his and nearly had mistaken them for a velvet pillow, the way they immediately engulfed yours without surprise like his lips were made for yours and yours only.

he subtly pulled away, gazing into your eyes with a certain tenderness, not one hint of uncertainty in his eyes. you smiled and the corners of his mouth tugged upward, the prettiest smile you’d seen making itself present.

the sound of waves crashing beside you, moonlight illuminating the beautiful man above you, his warmth pressed to your chest and engulfing you entirely.

he lowered himself fully onto you, a hand in your hair as he pressed his lips to yours again, the kisses pure and passionate, exploring one another’s hair and face with gentle touches.

in this moment, you realized you didn't want to kiss anyone ever again. just him, eternally.

"junie, see that star?" you both lay on the soft sand, tousling yeonjun's silky hair as he lay his head on your stomach, both looking up at the speckled night sky.

after hours of deep talks, a few kisses and long embraces in between, this moment felt surreal; like you and him were always meant to share more than just a friendly relationship. this just felt so right.

that said, you were also clueless as to what time it even was. it could be 1am or it could be 4am. right now, it was the least of your worries.

"which one? there's so many..." he squinted his eyes in search of this mystery star you so wanted him to see. you couldn't help but laugh, realizing he probably isn't looking at the same star as you, lightly ruffling his hair at his cuteness.

"i wish i could just live with you," you sighed, absolutely hating the thought of having to go back home in several hours so that your parents wouldn't discover you missing.

he looks up at you, a subtle pout on his lips. he didn't want to leave you just as much, knowing that his heart will break a little when you get out of his car and trudge back into your room just to face the depressing reality of your home life.

the time you spent together was always an escape, a safe place, a time you got to truly unwind and be yourselves. he looked over at you, knowing that one day he'll make the time you spend in this safe place together permanent.

"one day." he reaches up to grab your hand that rested atop his head, interlacing your fingers with his. the sound of that, you and your best friend one day getting to live under the same roof; it gave you the hope that you needed to get through each day leading up to it.

finally checking his phone at 4am and deciding he wanted to take you one last place before driving you back home, the two of you were on the road again.

he took the long route, passing by large mountains and cliffs that overlooked the ocean, watching the orange glow bleed into the sky as the sun was beginning to rise.

yeonjun pulled over at the top of the highest cliff by the ocean, taking your hand and pulling you so that your feet were nearly at it's edge.

looking over the edge took your breath away; this altitude, knowing that if you took another step you'd be dead. but knowing that if you stayed right where you are, you'd stay in the warm embrace of your comfort boy.

the wind blew gently across the ocean, creating subtle ripples and waves, the rising sun reflecting off of the water like a mirror. you both just stood there in awe of the sea, listening to its lull from where you stood and melting into his tender embrace of you from behind.

"this beautiful view. this is what it feels like to be with you," yeonjun's voice rung out softly behind your ear, just loud enough for you to hear. you felt his eyes on you even though you couldn't see him, both smiling as the wind blew your hair softly.

slightly turning your head to look at him over your shoulder, your eyes met his, lost in their dark brown depths. you pulled him in, kissing his lips like it was the last.

in this moment, you felt what it meant to be alive.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

a/n: as always i appreciate you so much for reading :)) and thank you, with my ENTIRE heart, for 400 followers!!!! u all literally mean so much to me 🫶

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see-arcane · 1 year

Text

Last Night

It isn’t a dream. It isn’t moonlight or mist. It’s him.

The pretense shed, the door at his towering back, the teeth bared with a glee that borders on the giddiness of a child finally unwrapping a gift dangled out of reach until the appropriate holiday. All the world is shrunk down to the pieces of him Jonathan has had to endure by increasing increments. Mouth, hands, eyes. The latter are trying to hook him. He feels the push of them just as the Weird Sisters’ influence had fogged his sense when he was too near to sleep to fight.

But he is awake now. So horribly, implacably awake with that fearful energy which visits all prey spotting the pursuer’s jaws. Run! that energy demands. Run! Hide! Fight! Something, anything!

With no mode in which to answer any of these instincts, the energy is left to pace through his veins in frantic circles. It feels as if his own blood is leaping to answer the Count’s wishes, churning itself into a froth. Sickly, he thinks he sees exactly that answering delight in the horror’s pallid face; a twitch of the nostrils, a salivating shine on the saber teeth, a darkening of the eyes. A wolf before a lame calf.

“I do wish to thank you before we part. Most sincerely.”

Jonathan doesn’t answer. Doesn’t dare meet the trap of the eyes. Watch the red mouth. The white hands.

“You have given me so much more than I dared hope for after all this time.”

“I only,” his voice is thinned down to a rasp. A raw quavering. “I only came to sell you a house. That was all.” The flatness of the fact seems almost comical when said aloud. A noise that can’t decide between a laugh, a sob, or a scream lodges in his throat.

“And so you did. So anyone might have. Anyone else,” the Count takes a step closer, as Jonathan moves back a pace, “would have come and gone within a day. Less than. A mere workman, a living appliance good only for one thing before being discarded. Not so for you, my friend. You have gifted me such aid and pleasure in your company that it merits mention. That and more.” Step forward, step back. The door is visible over the high cloaked shoulder. Locked? Unlocked? Does it matter?

Jonathan digs for a response that isn’t bile, begging, or more incessant playacting to suit the damned game. All he can dredge up is more hot coal in his throat, more wet burning behind his eyes. He wants to wake up. Please, God, now if no other time, let the nightmare end, let him out, let him wake—

But you are. You are awake.

A single word makes it past his tongue. Empty and pleading, but there.

“Why?”

“Because.” Step. “Since your coming, since your staying, I have been met again and again with a joy I thought dead in me.” Step. “Dust piled on the clockwork of my mind has been swept away.” Step. “You have brought lifeblood into my nights and made me feel things I feared were buried in long-gone ages.” Step. “A lifetime of paling distractions, suddenly alight with something worth attention.” Step. “Such a perfect prelude to dear England. But more than that…”

Jonathan’s heel strikes a leg of the bed.

Door, door, get to the door—

He gets scarcely an inch before the white hands are on him. One is the manacle grip on his arm that first stole him up into the caleche and drove him away to this benighted hell. The other locks around his jaw like a cold vise, seizing him where the crucifix had once barred that touch on the night of his last shave. With bleary inanity, Jonathan wonders if there would be any difference if he wore it now rather than leaving it pinned as scant protection on the wall. The Son hangs his tiny head and cannot guard him from his spot above the bed.

Not that Jonathan could look him in his carved eyes now. The hand at his jaw has wrenched his face up and the red eyes are worming their way into him like maggots coiling through loam. A braided sensation of dread and calm, terror and welcome stitches itself through him. When he tries to open his mouth for a last word—he can’t guess whether it would be a prayer or an animal-cry of protest—there’s only the slackness of a doll.

“…you have made me feel young, my friend. In so many ways.” Cool digits stroke and cradle. “For that, you deserve all I mean to give.”

The red stare does not blink. Does not move. Does not end as the pressure of it softens the world’s edges into a dreaming haze. Jonathan feels himself going away. Away…

Dracula says things he can no longer hear. The room tilts as he is tilted, neck taut, back folded over the strut of a dead man’s arm, and it is bliss not to know the words whispering their endless litany in his ear. Murmurs of youth, of forgotten pleasures, of life, of love, of a dozen other endearments made profane through the sieve of those lowering teeth are all lost to him. Even the farewell, padded as it is in stroking hands and cold lips, hushing him away to an oblivion without sight or tears, melts into ether.

When the blood begins to flow, he does not have to see the turning of the wild white mane into a fall of iron.

#a snapshot of what may have gone down in the interim between entries #jonathan harker #dracula #re: dracula #dracula daily #my writing

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whitedarkmoonflower · 6 months

Text

The Witch 3

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: Part 3 of the lovely Anon request about Sihtric x healer!reader. I have to post it before I nuke again everything I have written.

Warnings: fluff and a bit of angst, being trapped in a burning house, side charackters canon death

Word Count: 3,8 K

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama @verenahx @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.

The flames rapidly engulfed the area, hungrily consuming the dry wooden walls and thatched roofs. Carried by the wind, embers danced from building to building, igniting new blazes in a furious tempest of fire and smoke.

"Quick, to the horses!" Uhtred barked, seizing the princess's hand and pulling her along as he led the way. The surrounding chaos provided a fleeting cover. But as they reached the stables, the first Danes appeared in hot pursuit.

Time was of the essence. Sihtric knelt, offering his hands as a step. The moment Princess Aethelfled's foot grazed his palms, he propelled her onto the horse. Seizing the reins, her eyes widened, a wild glint of near-madness sparkling within.

"Clapa!" Uhtred called out. The towering Dane glanced back at his lord, then, with a ferocious roar, charged at the encroaching warriors. Clapa's axe, seemingly a mere toy in his massive hands, sliced through the air. He deftly felled the first assailant, then swung back, bringing the axe down on another. Both attackers collapsed in an instant, yet the onslaught of enemies was relentless.

"Clapa!" Uhtred's voice rang out once more. But it was too late. The first strike hit Clapa from behind, followed swiftly by others. The giant warrior crumbled to his knees, yet continued to swing his axe with ferocious might, a grim smile on his lips. It was a noble end, befitting a warrior.

"See you in Valhalla, my friend," Uhtred murmured, before bellowing, "Forward!" He urged his horse into a swift gallop. A moment later it would have been too late for them, as more and more Danes swarmed the area, bows at the ready.

Sihtric, following closely behind his lord, cast anxious glances over his shoulder. Arrows whistled past, embedding in the earth. Behind them, Beamfleot was ablaze, its fiery glow painting the skyline in a tapestry of red and orange hues.

"Lord, I must return," Sihtric's voice reached Uhtred as the young Dane pulled his horse alongside. "I have to go back," he repeated, determination clear in his voice, his dark eyes reflecting the inferno behind them.

"Go then, and find your witch," Uhtred gruffly replied, goading his horse into a faster pace. "And don't die!" he shouted after Sihtric, whose silhouette swiftly turned, adeptly guiding his horse back into the heart of the chaos.

Driven more by instinct than reason, Sihtric nudged his horse into a frantic gallop, making his way back to Beamfleot. He had no clue what to say upon arriving at your doorstep. He was an enemy. You had stated that pretty clearly the last time he saw you. That night, he had left silently, eschewing farewells and not even waiting for dawn's light. Yet here he was, pushing his horse to its limits, his heart pounding in sync with the animal's strides as they approached Beamfleot.

His rational mind urged him to turn back, to let go of the faint hope that clung to him. It screamed of the folly in his actions; it was pure madness. He was not wanted. But deep down, a small voice whispered, "What if this is it? The last chance?"

There were so many unanswered questions. He still couldn’t understand why you had saved his life, and more than that, why you hadn't exposed him as a spy. And then there was that kiss. Had it meant something to you, had it been a genuine moment, or merely a fleeting whim? A cruel jest at the expense of the feelings he was certain you knew he harboured. He had allowed himself to be swept up in his affection for you. He had bared his soul and shown a vulnerability he had never dared reveal to anyone else. Was it all merely a twisted game to glean information about his lord?

The questions burned in his mind like a relentless fire, unquenchable and consuming, each thought igniting another in a ceaseless blaze of uncertainty and longing. He wasn’t even sure he wanted the answers.

"I just need to say goodbye – properly this time. Not like that last night, sneaking away without a word," he kept repeating in his head.

"Yeah, right," his reason scoffed at his own sentimentality. "Like she’s just going to welcome you with open arms." But the pull was too strong, the need to see you one last time too alluring to resist. And as the familiar outlines of Beamfleot loomed ahead, Sihtric steeled himself for whatever awaited him at the end – be it rejection, a moment of understanding, or simply the chance of a final, bittersweet goodbye.

A thick plume of dark smoke, rising high into the sky and tinged with the acrid smell of burning wood welcomed Sihtric as he approached. The town's gates were wide open, abandoned by guards and unattended on the ramparts. The Danes were apparently chasing their golden cow, leaving the locals to fend for themselves in a frantic effort to save their homes and livelihoods. The clamour of people shuttling buckets of water from the docks, forming a human chain, merged with the frantic cries of women ushering their children, clutching whatever belongings they could salvage amidst the chaos. Amidst this turmoil, Sihtric passed unnoticed.

Dismounting, he led his horse by the reins, making his way towards the small healer's house. The fire was concentrated around the great hall and nearby buildings, but it had not engulfed the entire town. The other structures, spaced further apart, had slowed the fire's spread. A surreal calm enveloped him as he walked, the chaos receding behind him. Raising his eyes, he noticed another flicker of red in the distance, a stark contrast to the relative tranquillity of his current surroundings.

As Sihtric approached, it became increasingly evident that the lone house ablaze at the town's edge was his destination. Quickening his pace, he released his horse, confident it would respond to his call if necessary.

The sight of the isolated burning house, set apart from the rest, struck him as peculiar. It stood like a solitary torch against the darkening evening sky, eerily abandoned. There was no one in sight, no frantic efforts to douse the flames. The fire had engulfed the roof, its flames dancing and flickering menacingly, casting an ominous orange-red glow into the night.

Drawing nearer, Sihtric heard the wooden structure groan and creak under the assault of the fire, which now gnawed at its supports and framework. Embers and sparks soared into the air, creating a fiery spectacle. Then, a chilling detail caught his eye: a log wedged against the door, effectively trapping anyone inside. His gaze swept over the house, noting all the shutters were firmly closed and secured from the outside.

"What the heck!" Sihtric whispered in shock, his heart pounding as a sudden realisation struck him. He rushed forward, seizing the log with both hands in an attempt to unblock the door. It stubbornly refused to budge. The smoke swirled around him like a corrosive cloud, stinging his eyes, invading his nostrils, and triggering fits of coughing. Resorting to his axe, Sihtric began hacking at the log, wood chips flying through the air, until it finally split in two, granting access to the door.

As he wrenched the door open, a blistering wave of heat and smoke billowed out, forcing him to retreat and shield his eyes with his forearm. Hastily tearing the lower part of his tunic, he fashioned a makeshift mask, covering his nose and mouth, and plunged into the inferno inside the house.

Inside, the flames surged with ferocious intensity, the air dense with suffocating smoke. Each step was a battle against the relentless heat, scorching his skin. His eyes watered from the intensity of the heat and smoke, blurring his vision, while every breath felt like inhaling fire. With each step his surroundings become increasingly surreal, everything around him painted in shades of orange and red, wrapped in a thick coat of smoke.

Sihtric dropped to his knees, coughing uncontrollably, yet he persevered forward. He had no choice; he needed to find you and the barred doors and shutters suggested that you were likely inside. With every muscle in his body tensed, Sihtric crawled towards the next room, the heat growing more oppressive by the second and the sound of crackling wood a constant reminder that there was no time left.

Through his blurred vision, Sihtric spotted something on the floor near the window at the far end of the room. Clenching his teeth, he flattened himself completely against the floor, inching forward on his stomach.

Sihtric instantly recognized you. Gritting his teeth, he slid his arms under your shoulders and knees, lifting you with a strained groan. The lack of air made his heart pound furiously, each step feeling unbearably heavy, as if his boots were weighed down with lead. The air around his head seemed to boil; blinded by smoke and heat, he held his breath and stumbled towards where he recalled the door was.

Sihtric collapsed to his knees on the grass, gently laying you down beside him. He coughed violently, gasping for air. He couldn't remember exactly how he'd managed to find the exit. All that remained vivid in his mind was the sensation of your fragile form pressed against his chest, driving him forward with each step, fueled by the urgent beat of his heart.

"No, no, no," Sihtric murmured anxiously as he sprang to his feet, dashing towards his horse grazing nearby. He swiftly grabbed the leather flask filled with fresh water from the saddle and hurried back to your side, kneeling beside you. Carefully, he splashed a handful of water onto your face, trying to revive you.

"Come on, breathe!" he urged, his voice tinged with desperation. He pressed his ear to your chest, his own heartbeat thundering in his ears, making it difficult to distinguish whether it was his or yours. Gently, he lifted you, cradling your head in his lap. With trembling hands, he tried to wipe the soot off your cheeks, but in his frantic state, he only managed to smear it further, leaving trails of his dirty fingers across your face.

“Please, just open your eyes,” Sihtric begged, keeping you close, and gently stroking your hair. “Breathe, you damned witch!” he hissed, shaking you slightly, despair slowly overtaking him.

"I hate it," a faint, barely audible whisper came to Sihtric's ears.

"What?" he asked, puzzled, looking down at you.

"I hate being called a witch," you replied, your voice low and raspy, yet with a definitive firmness that brought a smile to Sihtric's face. He held you closer, nuzzling your dishevelled hair, carrying the acrid scents of ash, smoke, and soot.

Just then, the walls and roof of the small house collapsed with a thunderous roar, sending a cascade of sparks and burning debris skyward. You flinched, gripping Sihtric's arm tightly as you watched your house transform into nothing but a skeleton of wooden beams and supports.

It wasn't just a house being reduced to ashes; it was the destruction of your dream for a haven, a sanctuary you had called home. Your vision of peace, your hope for acceptance, was crumbling before your eyes, all turning into dust, leaving you bare, bereft and alone.

Tears began forming in your eyes, and there was no strength left within you to hold them back as you leaned into the solid embrace of the very same young man you had thought you'd pushed away forever. You had rejected him, driven him off, intimidated by your own deepening emotions, yet here he was, cradling you in his strong arms, his fingers gently combing through your hair, while you sobbed your face hidden in his broad chest.

"The door... Sihtric, it was blocked," you hiccuped between sobs, dampening his leather armor with your tears as the painful memories resurfaced. "Why would they do that? I've never harmed them," your cries grew louder, shoulders shaking, fingers clutching at Sihtric’s armor, seeking solace in his presence.

"I thought... I thought I was going to die," you managed to say through your sobs.

"Shh, it's all over now. You're safe with me," Sihtric soothed, humming softly as he rocked you in his arms. His fingers tenderly stroked your hair, trailing down your back with a featherlight touch. It was an unfamiliar sensation, so full of genuine care and protectiveness. For the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of safety enveloping you, easing the tension in your muscles, allowing you to fully relax into his strong yet gentle hold.

As your sobs subsided and your body stopped shivering, Sihtric gazed down at you and a smile crept onto his lips. You were covered in dirt and grime, your hair tinged grey with ash and smoke, your nose reddened from crying and rubbing against his armour. You seemed so small and fragile against his chest, your hands gripping his armour, tears carving paths through the soot on your face. Yet to him, you were incredibly beautiful, perhaps more so than ever before.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Sihtric found you seated outside the healer's tent, perched on a wooden block, your hands stained with blood resting in your lap. Exhaustion was etched on your face, your eyes red and swollen from weariness. Another evening was approaching, and though the battle had ceased, for you and the other healers in Alfred’s camp, a different fight had just begun – a struggle for the lives of the wounded.

You had arrived at the camp with Sihtric, who had ridden hard to get both of you there. He immediately brought you to the healer's tent before vanishing towards the sounds of clashing weapons and battle cries. Despite the suspicious and wary glances from others, you had lent your skills wherever you could.

You clearly didn't belong there, it was more than obvious. Yet, the question remained: where did you belong? You had attempted to belong to both worlds - the Saxon and the Danish one, but the price was high – your home burned down, and both your lords dead. Not that you grieved them deeply; you had long understood that such was likely their fated end. There are no shepherds in Valhalla, you remembered them saying when you had once suggested that a peaceful coexistence with Saxons was better than endless conquest.

"We're leaving at dawn tomorrow," Sihtric said, his voice carrying an unusual weight that drew your attention as you lifted your gaze to meet Sihtric’s eyes as he extended his hand, covered in blood just as yours. A hand that saves lives and a hand that takes lives - both looking the same, slipped through your mind. You were in his world now, and as much as you didn’t want to show it, you were frightened.

"A scared, little witch," you mused inwardly, a wry tone to your thoughts. With a moment's hesitation, you averted your gaze and gently took Sihtric's warm hand, relying on his strength to help you rise.

"What will happen to me?" you asked, striving for a calm and composed tone, yet finding it hard to meet Sihtric’s eyes directly.

"You're free to go. I've spoken with Uhtred; you're not a prisoner," Sihtric said, his hand still holding yours, his thumb lightly tracing your skin. He paused, clearing his throat as if he had more to say, but the words seemed to elude him.

"To go where?" you asked with a wry smile, finally meeting his gaze.

It was so strange. He was and he wasn’t the same Sihtric you remembered – the shy, bashful young warrior who had struggled for breath at your slightest touch while tending to his wounds. You hadn't noticed before how much taller he was than you. Your hand seemed so small engulfed in his, and despite your efforts to mask your anxiety, it quivered ever so slightly.

"Anywhere you wish," Sihtric replied, his voice fading to a whisper, his lower lip caught nervously between his teeth.

He was filled with unspoken words, yearning to say, 'Come with me, let me take care of you.' He cursed himself silently, frustrated that the words hovering on the brink of his tongue remained unspoken. The sadness in your eyes was almost too much for him. You had lost everything, and yet, what he could offer seemed so insignificant in comparison. Why would you choose a life with him? Yet he knew, without a shred of doubt, that if it meant saving you, he would brave the flames of a burning house over and over again.

After a moment of awkward silence, you withdrew your hand under the guise of adjusting your clothing. Your fingers trembled as they pretended to smooth out non-existent creases, followed by a quiet chuckle.

"So, this is it then. Our paths part for good," you mumbled, your voice catching slightly. "Your debt is settled, and I'm free to go," you said, attempting to mask your emotions with a bright, forced smile. As you reached out to cup Sihtric's cheek, he started to raise his hand, as if to grasp yours, but you quickly pulled back. With no clear destination in mind, the urge to flee, to escape the mounting embarrassment of your unreciprocated feelings for this young warrior, was overwhelming. "What did you expect? That he'd offer you his hand and heart?" your inner voice taunted. "He saved my life," you countered weakly. "Only to be free from you and his debt," your mind reacted bitterly.

Turning away, you sighed deeply, surveying your surroundings. You weren't defeated. There had to be a place in this cursed world where you belonged, and you were determined to find it. Though your initial steps away from Sihtric were shaky, you soon straightened your shoulders, lifted your chin, and quickened your pace with each stride. It was only the tears slowly trailing down your cheeks that could betray your aching heart, but luckily he couldn’t see them.

As you walked away, the evening sun cast a shimmering glow on your loose, fluttering hair. Sihtric watched, swallowing hard, as your figure gradually diminished, embraced by the evening's shadows. His heart seemed to leap into his throat, beating erratically. Everything felt so wrong.

Everything had happened too fast for Sihtric to fully comprehend. He had imagined various scenarios of meeting you again, but none had involved rescuing you from a burning house or bringing you to Alfred's camp. He had thought, perhaps, that fate or the whimsical Norns, weaving the threads of life, had given him another chance with you. The way you had clung to him, crying out your despair and anger, had kindled a hope in him that his feelings weren't futile. Yet, he had let you walk away, falling silent once more. How did it come to this?

Restlessly shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Sihtric felt an unexplainable warmth spread through him, flushing his cheeks and suddenly, he was running as if chased by the hounds of Niflheim, his heart pounding in rhythm with his steps. His longer strides quickly closed the distance between you. He reached out, grasping your elbow to turn you towards him, his breath heavy on your skin as he pressed his forehead against yours.

"I don't want you to leave," Sihtric whispered, his hold on your arms growing firmer as he drew you closer. "Please, come with me. I know I can't offer you what you once had, but if you just gave me a chance. It’s all I’m asking for – a chance to show you I'm worth your attention."

Sihtric's words poured out in a fervent stream, catching you off guard and robbing your ability to respond. All you could do was to stare in bewilderment in his beautiful mismatched eyes, soft sobs trembling through your shoulders as his heartfelt confession and the sincerity in his words overwhelmed you.

"I don’t want to leave, Sihtric," you finally whispered back, cradling his face in your hands, tears shimmering in your eyes. "By the gods, Sihtric, you don’t need to prove anything. I feared I had wounded your pride too deeply for you to still want me."

"You don’t want to leave?" Sihtric exhaled sharply, letting out his breath he was apparently holding back.

"I never wanted to go, and I didn’t want you to leave either. I’m sorry, Sihtric. I was just too afraid to admit that I’ve fallen for you."

"Fallen for me? Does this mean you’ll come with me?" The astonishment in Sihtric’s voice was unmistakable, prompting a smile from you.

"If you'll have me," you replied with a playful chuckle. In an instant, you let out a squeal as Sihtric scooped you up, hoisting you over his shoulder.

"You bet I will, witch," Sihtric declared, striding towards the distant tents. No matter how much you wriggled or protested, he didn’t set you down until you reached his tent. Once there, he gently placed you on the ground, immediately enveloping you in his embrace, making sure you couldn’t take a single step away.

"Say it again," Sihtric's voice was husky and low.

"Say what?" you playfully responded, your arms encircling his neck.

"Say that you love me," Sihtric nearly growled, his voice resonating deep in his throat. "Stop teasing me, witch!" he implored, pulling you tightly against his chest.

"Please, stop teasing," he repeated, his voice softening to a gentle murmur. "Because I love you, and I want you to be mine – today, tomorrow, and all the days that follow."

Rising on your toes, you leaned close to his ear, your breath warm against his neck. "Is that what you want? Your very own witch to play with? Because if so, I'm all in. I love you, my hapless spy."

A soft moan escaped you as Sihtric's lips met yours passionately, his hands eagerly working at the laces of your garment, seeking to liberate you from it. You surrendered to his touch, liberated from the mental barriers you had imposed on yourself, aflame with love and desire for this young, spirited warrior who had ignited a fire in you like never before.

Your clothes and Sihtric’s armour and tunic fell to the floor in a flurry of urgency, hands frenziedly removing the last barriers between your eager bodies. As the final piece of your undergarment was removed, Sihtric gasped softly, his eyes taking in the sight of your bare form. Dressed only in his breeches, he lifted you with ease, and in one smooth motion, you wrapped your legs around his waist, securing them behind his back. His lips remained locked with yours as he carried you to the pile of furs that served as his bed, laying you down and enveloping you with his presence.

"I want you," Sihtric whispered into your ear, "I want to give you pleasure like no one else has. I want you to guide me, to teach me, to show me all that you desire. You are mine, witch. Mine forever."

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom fics #tlk fics #arnas fedaravicius #arnas fedaravičius #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric fics #the last kingdom #tlk

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anki-of-beleriand · 1 year

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The house at the edge of the world ch. 13

Summary: Y/N is the owner of an Airbnb at the edge of the world, a place in which Wanda would either heal or become what everyone is afraid of.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff/SW! x Female!Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI! +18, angst, drama, slow burn, friends to lovers, pregnancy, romance, fluff, mentions of depression and self harm, healing, R owns an Airbnb that welcomes many known characters from Marvel, R has powers, Wanda needs healing, and so does R. More warnings as the story progress.

Author's Note: Hello people! I know it has been quite some time, I do apologise about that. Life has not been easy and I have been living some hardships that prevent me from writing here, but not from writing on my notebooks, so I'm trying to get everything orginize and back into the different chapters of the stories.

This chapter is just a small moment of separation, and realization. I hope you guys like it. The end is almost here, remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes. Thank you for reading!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 -Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 14 - Epilogue

Chapter 13

Why are you fighting for?

Who are we fighting for?

There was not a single sound.

Darkness surrounded her, while tight straps of leather and heavy chains tied her to a wall. She felt panic rising inside her mind the moment she realized she could not call upon her powers. Her body tensed, fighting against the bonds keeping her in place. It took her a moment of struggle to finally understand there was no possible way out of this trap.

She took a deep breath, but her mouth never uttered a single word.

For some reason, she knew she was alone.

Her head was hurting, dizziness was taking over her senses while she recalled the events leading to her current situation. She remembered the helicopters, the screams, and the explosions; the pain of electric discharge running through her body made her lose the control she was holding over her magic. The heavy weight of something hitting her head made her staggered and then…

You were running towards them; she was confused but she tried to warn you.

Another discharge of electricity and Wanda was out.

The young woman didn’t need to wonder further to know in what kind of situation she was in. This only made her struggled against her bonds, if she had been kidnapped then there was only one person of doing such a thing. Wanda felt panic again, this time around she fought to get a hold of her powers only to feel a current of burning electricity moving from her neck through her head.

The memory of the Raft came right into her mind, and she understood why she could not use her powers.

She tried to move her neck, the weight of the device tied to it was now easily detected. Wanda clenched her jaw holding back the scream of frustration that wanted to leave her lips. Never before had she felt so vulnerable, her powers had become such an important part of herself that being unable to reach for them told her she was really in big trouble.

The sound of footsteps and heavy metal being scratched caller her attention, her whole body tensed and once more the pain from the device attacked her head making it impossible for her to hold back her protests of pain.

“Please, try to now overexert yourself, Wanda.” The voice of a familiar man reached her ears, though it took her some time to get used to the blinding lights in the room. “I would hate for you to be unconscious and unable to use your full potential before I have a chance of using it.”

Wanda tried to lift her head, and after a couple of minutes and intense pain crossing her face, she could finally do it.

“Hayward.” She mumbled through clenched teeth, the man tilted his head unimpressed his lips curled up in a satisfied smile.

“Hello, Wanda. I’m glad I was finally able to find you and have you as my guest.” The man stood right in front of her, and Wanda finally realized the precarious state she was in.

The room was circular in form, with white walls and LED lights hanging from the ceiling. She had been strapped to a wall but was put in such a position that she was facing a surgical bed and a couple of instruments and machines she was afraid to identify. The man in front of her stepped aside, his eyes gleaming with emotion when her clear eyes fell upon the lifeless body that had been Vision.

Wanda felt her heart drop at the sight, she had seen him like this before.

The moment she tried to recover his body and was denied the closure of a funeral for the man she had loved with her life. Her eyes filled with tears, fear and uncertainty pocked at the back of her mind while Hayward stood right in front of her.

“Now that I have your full attention, how about we have a small conversation.” Hayward tilted his head ignoring completely the glare Wanda was sending his way. “I am sure we can get into an agreement and this situation would end in something beneficial for the both of us.”

“As soon as I am out of here, I am going to make you pay for everything.” Wanda warned holding back her anger such as to not activate her powers.

Hayward sighed shaking his head while making a gesture with his hand, “that was an unfortunate answer, Wanda. I really want your cooperation willingly; however, I am not beyond into obtaining it by force.”

Not sooner had he said this the device around her neck activated, and the screams of Wanda filled out the room. The young woman clenched her eyes shut, but her body ignited with a fire she didn’t recognize, and her hands burnt intently while a spark of red magical mist left her fingertips.

“It seems we can work something out.” Hayward said turning around to one man dressed in a white lab coat. “Keep trying until we can get from her what I want.”

______________________________________________________________

You woke up startled, your mouth opening to take a deep breath.

The side of your body was hurting, and the world around you was dancing in front of your eyes. Nausea hit your stomach the moment you sat down, your eyes clenched closed for a moment while you tried t get a hold of your surroundings and the situation at hand.

An explosion. A fight.

Wanda!

You didn’t have time to react, a hand placed itself on your shoulder and you were forced to lift your head and see the concern glare from Ajak pinning you to the place you were sitting on.

“Wanda…” You stuttered but the older woman merely shook her head, you tried to stand up again but she pressed you back with a strength you were always surprised to find in her.

“Stay still. You were hurt badly. I have taken care of most of your wounds, but it wouldn’t do any good if you were to force yourself at the moment.” Ajak went back to the previous position on the chair, you blinked away your dizziness before noticing you were in your room.

The place was a mess, but it seemed as if nothing in there was broken beyond repair. The older woman turned around tilting her head and making a face.

“The living room and the guest house were destroyed.” She pressed her lips together, her eyes burning with emotion before they settled on you once more. “I have called them already; they will be here as soon as they can.”

You didn’t need to ask who was coming, you knew Ajak had called the family. You weren’t sure who would come to your aid, after all, this was the first time in a very long time one of them had been hurt. What you did know was that you were still family and that was all Ajak needed to let them know what had happened.

Morning was already there, the light of the day sneaked inside the glasses of your bedroom and the sky above your head was still heavy with unleashed storms. You sat down slowly, your heart beating fast while your hands clenched tightly at your sides, you took a deep breath trying to control yourself before demanding answers.

Turning to the right your eyes found those of Ajak, the clarity in them told you everything you need to know. Yet you asked the question burning in your mind.

“What happened to Wanda?”

“We don’t know exactly.” Ajak fixed her position on the chair, ready to stop you from doing something harsh. “No one expected such an attack, this place was supposed to be a secret and Natasha and Yelena are assuring Sprite they were not followed. Though they obviously were, or something else its at play here.”

You scoffed at that, shifting on the bed so your legs were at the edge of the bed. Ajak was on her feet right away, her eyes gleaming strangely while her hand placed itself on your shoulder.

“You’re still hurt.”

“That man, or whoever the hell did this have Wanda.” You lifted your face with determination, the magic inside you igniting a golden fire around your irises. “I need to…”

“Take it easy.” Ajak stated firmly, her hand held up to stop you from any harsh movement.

For a brief instant you defied her with your eyes, your body creating a tension in your muscles which only made the pain increased. Your shoulders fell, eyes downcast before you stood on shaky legs.

“I need to do something, Ajak. Wanda may be in danger and I can’t…” You lifted your face to make sure Ajak could read the emotions running rampage through your system.

The older woman softened her features, her hand lifting up to put a strand of hair behind your ear. She smiled at you nodding towards the bathroom.

“I am not saying to do nothing, I’m just saying take it easy.” She stood back allowing you more space to move. “Go and take a bath, be careful with your wounds and once I have patch you up we will join the others.”

Two hours later you were walking down your hall, your eyes went from the complete destruction that was now your house and the falling drops of water coming from the dark clouds above your head. Your eyes drifted from what used to be your living room to the place where Natasha and Yelena were standing on. Ajak and Sprite had long gone to get everything ready back at their home, the Quinjet waiting in the front yard.

“So, I bet you two have some news, right?” Your eyes gleamed dangerously at the two Widows; Natasha nodded curtly pointing to the jet.

“Hayward has recruited some sympathizers and has been using some of SWORD’s resources to execute his plan.” Natasha went directly to the computer in the jet, her fingertips moving swiftly on the keyboard. “Tony and Monica had been monitoring some of the known bases of the organization, but after five years of leaving the leadership to this man it is quite obvious, he has been preparing for a situation such as this.”

“Which means, whatever he is up to, he is well hidden and almost impossible to track down.” You complemented sitting down with a wince.

“In theory, yes.” Natasha pressed a key and the window transform into a screen showing the map of the world with several dots in red and green.

You glanced at the screen with a frown in place, there was impatience in your posture while your thoughts filled with how much time everyone had wasted without knowing what could have happened to Wanda. Your strength was at half its potential, and your fingertips tingled with the possibility of the answers you could get if you were to get a hold of your powers.

Yelena shifted at your side, and soon you felt the weight of her hand on your shoulder. When you looked back at her she was offering a comforting glance, something you returned with a shaky smile.

“What do you need from me?” You finally asked to the two women, Natasha and Yelena exchanged a quick glance before another voice came in right through the coms.

“We need you to tell us how you can help us in this situation, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

You had heard stories about the man, and you had seen him several times through the news but never before had you had the honour of meeting him much less talk to him. You knew your existence was a secret, it was something Natasha and Yelena had kept to themselves and this had been a great advantage for you to remain anonymous and out of the conflicts happening in the world. But right now, you didn’t care. The woman you had fallen in love with was in danger and it was about time for you to cross that line.

“Nick Fury, the man of many legends.” You replied standing up and walking towards the camera, the sole eye of the man focused on your image and you gave off a half smile. “I can do many things, but you must know each one of them comes with a price.”

“Is that a threat or a negotiation?” He retorted tilting his head unimpressed, you snorted shaking your head while looking around the place before lifting your hand. This time around your fingertips were gleaming gold and your eyes shone with power that many would envy from you.

“It’s a promise.” The electronics around you flickered before everything went back to normal, neither Natasha nor Yelena changed their postures though you were quite sure they would be ready to jump at you if at any point they felt threatened.

It seemed as if Fury thought the same, for the man merely chuckled shaking his head while crossing his arms.

“We do not have time for games, as you can see there are many bases and many spots in which Hayward can be hidden. And there is no time.” He stated leaning. “I am not sure as to what he has planned for Wanda, but last time Wanda lost her control she created a complete different reality in this one.”

“She won’t lose any control of her powers.” The conviction behind your words surprised Fury, you shake your head remembering her progress in the last couple of months. “But it is true that if used incorrectly, her powers can be disastrous.”

“We have monitored some of these bases, and have…” You lifted your hand shaking your head.

“I can find her with a flickered of my hand.”

“You can?” Yelena asked surprised by your declaration, you nodded though there was no a single trace of happiness or smugness in your expression.

Fury tilted his head lifting a single eyebrow at you, “there is a price for that, am I right? And you are not talking about money.”

“That’s right. My powers…” You hesitated for a moment, revealing the extended of what you could do was pretty dangerous so before speaking you measure the extension of the information you could share. “They required concentration, and energy that I didn’t possess an hour ago.”

“Then, we should cut the crap and go down to business, don’t you think?” Fury finally stated, you nodded in agreement sitting down once more and listening to the debrief.

With each passing second you grew inpatient.

It was almost impossible to not think of her at the moment, of her smile and the way her eyes would shine with happiness and tenderness whenever she felt safe. How smooth was her skin, and how warm was her smile; you had fallen into her spell without measuring the consequences. And now, as they spoke about Westview and Hayward, about what they think was going to happen and how Wanda play into all the mess, you couldn’t help but think that this mission would define your fate and hers.

“Y/N?” You lifted your head startled, Yelena was glancing at you with a glint of concern in her eyes. The cockpit was silent, everyone seemed to be waiting for something.

It took you a moment to realize they were waiting for you.

“I will do it on my own. And, under my rules.” You stated glancing at the screen and making sure the man at the other end knew who he was dealing with. “I am not going to be a tool, nor someone you can call on whenever the world is in danger. I am doing this out of selfishness.”

Fury scowled at your words, he lifted his chin and for a moment it seemed as if he was going to fight over your words. But then he dropped his shoulders nodding curtly.

“Very well.”

You turned around leaving the Quinjet with a set of soft steps following you slowly, you didn’t need to turn around to know it was Yelena the one walking right behind you. A part of you knew this was mainly out of duty, but there was also a part of you that knew she opted to do it out of love.

The place was a complete mess, the house that had guarded Wanda the last couple of months was on ruins and ashes, the rain creating pools of blackness while the wind hit your face scratching the tenderness of your skin. Time seemed to stop around you, your footsteps taking you through the ruins of the house and the destruction around you, the burning anger inside your heart was making it impossible to focus on something differently to what had happened before disaster stroke.

You stood in the middle of the hill, glancing at the sky then at the ocean spreading in the horizon. The waters were dark, waves disturbing the calm waters while the salty aroma in the air filled your nostrils. Whatever you heard inside the Quinjet was nothing to what you knew about Wanda and the situation she was in. You knew the moment you started working your magic to find her, she would be a step closer to her previous life than to the one she had started building in Vernazza.

It wasn’t about her going back to her dark path, it was her going back to being a hero.

And you being alone.

You heard footsteps behind you, your body tensed knowing there was no more time to waste. Natasha stood behind you for a moment, her own heart was pressing hard against her chest and she couldn’t help but feel worried for what Wanda might be living at the moment.

“How powerful are you, really?” Natasha finally asked crossing her arms while shooting you a calculating stare.

Your lips quirked upwards; one eyebrow raised just as you turned to face her.

“Powerful enough to find her, to bind her and to destroy her without moving from this spot.” You replied without changing your tone of voice.

Natasha nodded curtly tilting her head to the side, “and all this time, you just remained here without helping others.”

“It was not my place, Natasha.” You furrowed your brows, shrugging. “Not all of us are made to be heroes, and sometimes…we could do more harm than good. My powers are special, like most witches are.”

Natasha scoffed shaking her head without understanding completely your reluctance to be of any help in the past. She had learnt the hard way that being inactive when the world needed you the most might lead to disaster. Innocent people, children, suffering at the hands of injustice and evil individuals that would stop at nothing until they had gotten what they wanted. The Red Room was just one example of this, but Natasha knew more cases in which perhaps more help would have make a difference.

“My powers come with a price, Natasha.” You sighed closing your eyes for a moment before you opened them and the golden light that was your inner strength. Your fingertips created a golden mist while the air around you changed.

It felt heavier, suffocating.

Natasha shivered for a moment, though she never backed down from her position in front of you. You didn’t expect her to do just that, you knew the woman could face whoever she wanted without never showing fear or uncertainty. That was one of the things you like the most about her, Natasha was always ready for action and she was someone you knew you could count on.

At the moment, she was the best bet you had to help Wanda.

“I’ll find her, and you better be ready because I have a feeling this won’t be pretty.” You took a deep breath and then close your eyes ready to concentrate.

After you were taking under Ajak’s wing, they realized you need instruction. There was nothing much Sersi could teach you about magic, it was pretty obvious that due to the nature of your powers you would need powerful people ready to teach you how to handle your powers completely. Thus, after getting used to living with the Eternals, they journey started. You met a lot of people in all that time, but it was actually an old Yoruba woman you met when travelling to Togo. It was thanks to her that you learnt about the magic connecting all beings, and the magic itself tying everyone to what many in modernity called mutants.

When you opened your eyes you could see the different strings around you.

The magic tickled your skin, with a warm waved of air forming around your chest and spreading around your body in an explosion of connections coming to you through your own powers. The first time you did this, you almost died. But now, you were able to separate yourself from the other strings…the many people that had some magic in them, the ones that were powerful, and the ones that were not so much.

Natasha observed with calculating eyes the way you changed your posture, your eyes wide open now shining a deep golden colour. Your hands spread out, fingertips wriggling around while the air around her felt heavier.

The hairs at the back of her neck stood up when your eyes gleamed brighter and your mouth mumbled intelligible words. Then, as soon as it started, it had ended.

You clenched your jaw, breathing hard your clear eyes turned to Natasha’s ones.

“Poveglia.” You mumbled. “And we have to move fast, Wanda is liberating her powers in an erratic way. There is a lot of physical pain and she seems to be losing a battle trying to hold back.”

Natasha nodded turning around, “then let’s move.”

You went right behind her, Yelena was already sitting on the co-pilot seat playing with a knife. She got ready as soon as she saw the both of you entering the Quinjet.

“You got it? That fast?” Yelena sounded surprised, sending you an inquisitive stare you smiled at her. Your lips completely tensed.

“I am good at what I do, Lena.”

Yelena snorted shaking her head and getting everything ready, “I don’t have a doubt about that.”

“Okay, then let’s move it. Fury will send reinforcements to our location. Tony is coming over and…”

“And we need Ajak and Sprite.” You replied nodding back to the town. “You need to pick them up, they are waiting for us in the cost.”

Natasha furrowed her brows, turning to you with some hesitation in her expression.

“I’m not sure that they…” Natasha trailed off, she examined your expression before shaking her head. “What other secrets are there, Y/N?”

“a lot more, that will be kept in that way, Natasha.” You replied standing in between the two Widows. “Let’s go. Wanda doesn’t have much time.”

_____________________________________________________________

Wanda could remember the last time she was torture in such a way.

Hydra had been experimenting on her and Pietro, trying to get the best of their powers by putting them through some hardships that left physical and emotional scars on them. She remembered the time her powers had been taken away from her, the pain of electric shocks through her body whenever she tried to access them and get free from her prison.

It had been the worst experience of her life.

Now, tied to the wall, with the same device around her neck and the death body of Vision on display, Wanda had to wonder why she fought so hard to defend these people. Why she fought so hard to be accepted when many of them wanted to put a number on them, and make sure they could be located it at all times.

When her freedom and privacy would be violated the same way she was being used at the moment.

Her lips parted, and her throat hurt the moment she let out another chilling scream into the room. Her eyes gleamed red and her power was expelled in waves of red mist. Her voice inside her head screamed with the same intensity, and the young woman could sense Scarlet fighting over the binds around her neck.

We need to free ourselves; we need to…

But her voice was losing her intensity.

“I know you can give me more, Wanda.” Hayward entered the room after the last explosion of energy, his eyes fell upon a cylindrical device tied to Vision’s grey body. The man pursed his lips touching the synthetic body before turning his eyes to Wanda. “I thought you love him. It is disappointing that, when giving the chance you decide to say no.”

Wanda took a deep breath, sweat falling down her face while her eyes flickered between red and green. Her glared would have scared the man in front of her if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew he could stop any attempts from her part to harm him. Hayward approached her with a kind smile, though her eyes were completely cold.

“If I were to take off the device…would you be inclined to help?” He asked, not for the first time, the same question.

Wanda took a deep breath, her mind clouding over to the implications of what Hayward was saying. The presence inside her head stirred once more, and she knew Scarlet would kill the man in front of her if they were given the chance to use their powers at its full potential.

“This is not the way…” Wanda breathed out. “Vision…if he comes back, he won’t be your weapon…”

Hayward snorted shaking his head, disappointed at such an answer.

“That’s too bad.” Hayward turned to Vision lifting his chin, arrogance dripping his voice as he spoke. “Your powers may return him to life, but I have made some modifications on that body. He will obey. This is for the greater good, we need a weapon like that to help us against people like you…People who obviously have powers they don’t deserve.”

“Vision would never…” Wanda started but trailed off when Hayward slapped her.

“Vision would do what I tell him to, and you will no longer be of any concern to the U.S government after today.”

Wanda lifted her face, her eyes burning with anger as she clenched her fist closed. In her eyes, the shadow of Scarlet was visible through the red colouring in her irises. The characteristic red mist forming slowly just as she tried to put up a fight against the restraints on her wrists and ankles. Hayward stepped back, his eyes gown wide though his lips pressed together in a thin smile; Wanda shook her head trying to collect her energy and getting herself freed from her current predicament.

“I won’t let you use Vision in such a despicable way, I won’t let you taint his memory!” Wanda struggled even harder, she held back her exclamations of pain feeling the energy moving through her body.

There was power surging through her, and the lights around them flickered through the sheer energy she was using. Hayward opened his eyes in shock, his feet moving back one step at a time not hearing the warning from his team just outside the room.

In no time, soldiers came in with their weapons at the ready all of them pointing at the witch that was now screaming in pain and anger. She was fighting over what had her imprisoned in that room, her mind breaking at some point when the electricity running through her body made it impossible for her to keep holding on.

Hayward let out a sigh of relief, he smiled lifting a hand to stop his soldiers from doing something stupid before moving to towards the door.

“That it’s all you need to do, Wanda.” Hayward smiled pointing to where the body of Vision was resting and the cylinder seemed to be gleaming red. He walked towards the door followed by his guards, with a last glance to a suffering Wanda Hayward exited the room. “Goodbye, Wanda.”

The world had not been fair with her.

Losing her parents, and her childhood was just the beginning of a life that would be filled with uncertainties and hardships. Pain seemed to be the only thing she knew pretty well, as an emotion and a feeling she had learnt to deal with as she grew older. Her body shivered with sweat rolling down her forehead. She didn’t know when it stopped, but it did. And suddenly everything around her was back to being black, the only sound that of her hard breathing.

She had tried.

She really tried to get out of this situation.

Her eyesight became blurry, and she hated the vulnerability she was feeling at the moment. How useless she was without her powers? Without the strength she relied on for so long, would she be able to survive? In a moment of clarity, she didn’t have before Westview, Wanda and Scarlet thought about their lives from the moment they lost their parents.

Falling into the hands of Hydra had been out of desperations, and getting the powers that led them to the Avengers was something that built in them a new purpose. A purpose Wanda lost in the Lagos incident. Every s ingle step she had taken had been wrong, every decision had led to more suffering, to her losing herself and letting others take advantage of who she was. Of what she was.

Until Vernazza.

Until Y/N.

For the very first time ever since she lost Vision, and she went away in the Blip Wanda was happy. She was at peace with herself and her past. She had forgotten the outside world that had pointed their fingers at her in fear and hatred, the ones that had forgotten her as a hero and now were screaming at her like a villain. For the very first time, Wanda understood why Natasha and Tony offered that gateway and the usefulness of such a time.

There was always time for a second chance, there was always time for making a difference and to step aside. Wanda stirred lifting her face, the room was dark still and she wasn’t feeling any strength in her body but now she knew what she had to do. She thought she knew what she wanted, that she was ready to go back to her life as a hero, as and Avenger…to show everyone she was not the bad person many thought she was. For the very first time, Wanda realized she needed to be happy for herself and nobody else.

We have fought many battles, we have faced many enemies but none as big as ourselves. It is time for us to decide who we are, and what we want to do. The voice of Scarlet sounded stronger, more confident that before and Wanda felt her power grow inside her chest.

“I thought we have decided already.” Wanda smiled and she could sense the smile of her alter ego in her mind.

Let’s get out of here, I don’t think she knows.

“I think we made her doubt.” Wanda finished before she took a deep breath.

And when she started gathering her inner strengths, the lights inside the room blinked to live. The body of Vision was completely visible, and there was no more doubts inside her mind. Wanda knew out there someone was looking for her, she knew that as soon as she did something help would come so she only needed time to make a big ruckus and hold until they get there.

With her usual determination, Wanda called upon her power closing her mind and body to the pain just as the lights inside the room started flickering. The device around her neck activated, and her lips opened up to let out a bloodcurdling scream inside the room. Everything in her body hurt, but she wouldn’t stop and push herself to the limit.

Wanda knew she was doing the right thing; she could hear the soldiers and the screaming of orders left and right. She could sense many thoughts, all of them scared or angered, and then just before she lost all consciousness…Wanda felt Y/N.

A flash of gold, a comforting warmth around her body and then only blankness.

_____________________________________________________________

Natasha had seen many heroes with superpowers fight before.

She had seen the good, the bad and the ugly learning how some of these powers could be a destructive forced that she usually thanked were on her side. She had seen Wanda fight, and she had been victim of her mind-altering technique; but never before had she seen what she saw in Y/N.

Poveglia was a small island located it in the venetian lagoon, it was a deserted island that many rumours said it was haunted. In all reality, it had been a secret Hydra based back in the World War Two and had been abandoned once the war was over and the newly founded SHIELD got control of the installations. It was supposed to be abandoned, but over the years it was obvious that the rumours about strange happenings in the island had been fed by those secret Hydra agents that were trying to continue with the groups secret dealings.

It was difficult for Fury to debrief everyone, and to assemble a team that would make sure this island was finally out of commission.

The place was heavily guarded, and Natasha feared it wouldn’t be as easier as she thought at first. That was until Y/N knelt down with a yelp of pain leaving her lips. Ajak was the first one by her side, speaking in a language the Widows didn’t recognize but that seemed to do the job.

“She…she is pain.” You stated through clenched teeth, your eyes gleaming brightly. “We need to…”

Ajak pursed her lips lifting your chin with two of her fingers, “peace, control, and power. Without them, you are nothing, Y/N.”

You nodded curtly standing up, you turned your back to them and walked towards the gate.

“Take care of everyone else, I will take care of this and the enhanced individuals inside.”

“Y/N we should wait…” Natasha started but trailed of when the switch changed and the gate started opening. “Y/N, WAIT!”

You didn’t wait.

Magic had always been a part of your life, you learnt to fight from Thena and Gil, and you had grown to be a great warrior thanks to them. Your frown increased as you landed in the backyard, the golden mist leaving your hands and pinning the soldiers to the ground. Your intention was not to kill, but you had learnt a long time ago that you were not above it.

Whatever you needed to do to keep your precious people safe.

Making your way inside the building was easier than you thought, your footsteps echoed in the building. You could hear the blasting sound of alarms and screams and shoots being fired; whenever you came across one soldier or a group of them, you were quick. Your fighting style was that of a seasoned warrior, and many of them were children before your eyes.

Your first problem was a young man.

He stood in front of you with his face marked by arrogance, his body muscular and filled out to resist heavy fights. He was dressed in black, with a strange armour covering his body and his hand armed with a combat knife. He smiled looking you up and down before assessing the threat.

“You don’t look like much.” He cocked his head to the side; he cracked his knuckles stepping forward before twirling the knife. “You have powers, I give you that. But you’re not the only one.”

You stood there taking a fighting stance, tilting your head to the other side you locked eyes with him. The young man hesitated for a second, before his arrogance was back into the game. He came at you with great speed, you side-step his first attacked barely missing the blade of the knife cutting through the air before he turned to you hitting you square in the face with his closed fist.

Your head bounced against the wall, an exclamation of pain left your lips before you dodged his next attack, that went right through the wall. You narrowed your eyes, this super strength was not something you were used to but at the moment you were more focused on other things.

Your leg lifted up hitting the young man on his back, his face crashing against the wall. You heard the crack of something breaking, but the young man turned as soon as he could and with the same technique he hit you squared on your midsection coming at you before hitting you once more in the face.

“You bitch!” You lifted your face dodging and blocking watching the blood coming down his broken nose. “You will learn!”

You lifted a hand and he stopped dead on his tracks, his eyes opened wide just as you lifted him in the air. Your golden eyes glancing at him with indifference before you pressed him against the ceiling of the place, he tried to struggle but it was useless.

“I could take your life with a single flickered of my hand.” You said coldly, your eyes falling on the knife he had dropped on the ground. “the energy I can sense in you would be enough to fee me for two more lives.”

The young man opened his eyes in terror, his struggling became frantic and you merely scoffed.

“I’m not interested in you, kid.” You stated walking forward. “Where is she?”

You waited for a moment before letting go of the man that soon fell to the ground, the young man was breathing hard. His face to the ground, his body trembling and spasming still quite sensitive to the magic that had pinned him to the ceiling. You turned around kneeling in front of him.

“Where is Wanda Maximoff?”

“Do—down the ha-hall.” He stuttered unable to move, you smiled patting his head like a dog.

“You won’t be able to move for a while, take this time to think over what you want to do next. Humans are not merciful with those who abused their privileges.”

He wasn’t the only one, and as you tried to make your way down the hall to what seemed to be a control room you realized many of these individuals were different. But were not natural, the energy they carried was fake, as if it had been forced through their bodies instead of being born inside them. You scoffed disgusted at the human experiments you seemed to be fighting, but your disgust was directed to the ones behind these poor souls that probably thought they were getting the deal of their lives.

They obtained strength through sacrifice.

Weapons. Tools.

You finally came to your destination, only to find a man standing with a full fledge army pointing their guns at you. This could have been a disaster if it wasn’t for the fact that the moment you stepped forward three different explosions shook the whole prison.

The ceiling came down, and the doors of the lab were thrown off their hinges with a red mist involving the room. Your eyes opened wide, you heard the order and your hand lifted to stop the bullets from reaching you and Wanda.

Wanda that was floating in a room with ropes and chains still hanging from her wrists and ankles, her neck covered with a black gadget and her mouth open in a rictus of pain. You flickered your hand, the magic around you expanded and the screams soon softened down while Wanda now in full Scarlet Witch mode dropped to the ground tired.

You ran to her side, your hand grabbing the collar around her neck.

For a moment you felt the voltage coming from it, and you merely used your inner strength to destroy the artefact and free the woman from it. The world around you kept spinning around, but your magic was protecting you from what was happening right outside.

Now with her in your arms, you could finally see the damage she had undergone.

With bags under her eyes, her face was covered in scratches and blood. She had signs of torture, and you could feel as her vital energy flickered dangerously in and out, as if she had been made to force her power on more than one occasion. Your hand trembled, your fingertips taking some strands of hair out of her face while you swallowed down your emotions.

You could sense others right outside your bubble of power.

You knew you were not alone; you could sense Ajak and Sprite, Natasha and Yelena and the life force of one Tony Stark. Your hand trembled when you moved away the hair from Wanda’s face, she had blood and a black mark on her cheek, anger went through your veins as you realized she had been tortured.

Then, your eyes lifted and you saw him.

The body of Vision.

A piercing pain went through your heart at the thought of Wanda trying to bring him to life. Of you losing her.

You swallowed down your doubts picking her up in your arms, Ajak showed herself in a moment glancing at your wounds and Wanda’s ones. She noticed the urgency in your eyes, and she knew you would not allow a single healing process in you until Wanda was okay.

“I think we better go; I need to see how badly she was wounded.” Ajak said pointing to the yard of the fortress.

“You better bring someone to take the body of Vision out of here and have someone check over the different technologies they have in here.” You spoke looking passed Ajak, Tony Stark stood with full armour and his face barely visible. “I think they had been experimenting with more than AI in this place.”

“Where are you taking her?” Tony asked with his eyes fixed on the redhead in your arms. “She needs medical attention; I can provide her with a good care.”

You scowled at the man, “she is out of energy, her magic had been affected by that disgusting gadget. She needs me and Ajak, Stark. When you have finished with this place, you are more than welcome to join us back home. No soldiers, no traps. Natasha would know how to locate us.”

You didn’t wait for an answer, instead you started walking down the debris helping yourself with your magic to move as fast as you could. No one dare to stop you, and Sprite alongside Yelena guarded your side as you went to the Quinjet that Natasha had been flying around.

Fixing Wanda in your arms, with tears in your eyes you waited until they carried you home.

_____________________________________________________________

Tag list!

@cowboyboots236 - @kacka84 - @alurajordyn - @mrscromanoff - @trikruismybitch - @njavezan - @alwaysgoodnight - @mrsmaximoff21 - @casquinhaa

#fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wandaxreader #wanda maximoff x female reader #female reader #reader #Marvel fanfic #Wanda Maximoff #wanda maximoff au #Female reader #Y/N #Wanda/ Y/N

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yoke9494 · 11 days

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Baby Bunny.🐇 Pt.1

Bonten mini series.

* pt. 1

*(Request) Hybrid bunny reader/ animal hybrid Bonten. First time ever writing something like this so I'm sorry if it's bad! I tried my best. Have any tips? Let me know!♥️

*Don't know how to label this chapter but the whole series will contain Angst/Smut and the fallowing TW.

*⚠️ Trigger warnings!: Sex trafficking, drug/alcohol use, stockholm syndrome, rape, (not on reader) mental and physical abuse,.. Sanzu.

_______________________________

How did you end up here?

You knew better.. You knew better than to walk home alone, especially at night.. Though you lived in a small town, covered by thick forest-- that didn't mean a predator would never find its way in..

You knew better than to stay at Molly's home for longer than you were allowed to. But time had gotten away from you when you began to tell Molly about a date you had coming up with your boyfriend who was half lovebird. He was such a beautiful man with midnight black hair and the bluest eyes you've ever seen.

You had a feeling he was going to propose since he had been extra excited about your date together. He even told you to go out and buy a new dress, plus to get your nails and hair done also. All with his hard earned money..

She was over the moon for you! And a little jealous. Being half sheep herself, her parents only let her date her own kind. (Yes, they were stuck up and awful-- the complete opposite of your beautiful Molly. She was such a sweetheart with a soul and heart made of gold.)

Her words repeated in your head as you walked home. "I'm so happy for you Y/n! Elden is such a sweet and handsome man. Just the type of guy a shy little bunny like you needs! Eeek! Can I be your maid of honor?!"

You shook your head as you tried to rewind the memories of you day. A way to keep the fear of the darkness away.

How could you fall for such a easy trap? You replayed the event over and over in your head. Wishing you had handled it differently...

******

"Help! Oh miss.. help!"

You heard a pained voice coming from the opposite end of the road. The streetlights were always dim and didn't provide a far range of coverage.

"Help! Please! I hurt myself."

You swallowed down your fear but still couldn't move. The prey in you was too scared.

"Girl! Come help me up!"

The voice that called out to you didn't sound familiar at all. Your town was so small that you knew everyone by their voice.

Your spotted and floppy ears slightly picked itself up on instinct. Your cotton ball tail shivering as if it was dead of winter.. Something wasn't right.

Maybe you should run back to Molly's house and ask her father to walk you home. Yes you were an adult but you weren't physically strong.

Fast footsteps came your way. The person began to yell out to you again.

Your ears shot up and you began to run. Molly's house was a lot closer than your own so you decided to go there.

"Grab her! But don't hurt her! Bunnies bring in a good amount of money!"

Your heart was racing-- your skin crawled with panic and fear! You pushed yourself as hard as you could as you rounded the corner. Nearly tripping over your own feet like the idiots do in horror movies. Your poor calves felt like they were being ripped to shreds!

But there it was.. The gate to Molly's home!

You were so close! All you had to do was swing it open and run to the door and scream at the top of your lungs.

"Got you!"

No.. No. No. No. No..

Completely darkness covered your vision. You struggled against two large sweaty bodies as you tried to free yourself.-- a sour burning smell burned the little hairs in your nose. You tried to scream but your mouth was muffled, suffocating from whatever they had shoved onto your head..

"It's okay bunny-- go to sleep."

Like hell you were!

"There you go."

One of the males cooed into your ear as suddenly your body began to give up on its own. Your brain kept trying to make your arms and legs move but you began to feel like mush. Your brain became hazy and it felt like you body was a million times heavier. Your eyelids felt like they were made of led--

Voice's faded in and out..

"Took her a while-- I swear I used half the bottle."

"She's gonna be a problem... But not for us!"

*****************

Your body jerked and startled you conscious. What was going on?--

Your body felt like it was run over by a truck, your head was spinning and your could feel your body breaking out in a cold sweat.

A sudden whisper had you panicking.

"Shh. It's okay. Here drink some water."

You tried to blink the blurriness away.. Molly? Oh thank goodness it was her! You tried to speak-- to tell her about the most terrifying dream you had.

You must have fallen asleep while you both were gossiping!---

"Mol--" you couldn't get a word out. You gasped for air and it felt like you had swallowed sharp pins. Your tongue was as dry as sandpaper..

Molly whispered to you. "Shh. Don't try to talk right now. Drink-- slowly."

You felt the rim of a plastic water bottle brush against your lips.-- Expecting a flow of cool refreshing water to wet your tongue-- you gagged when a dirty taste filled your mouth. A wheeze left your throat when you wanted to ask Molly what she had given you? It tasted like nasty pool water!

"I'm sorry. It's all we have."

What was she talking about? The town had access to the cleanest well water around..

Finally your vision came to and you wanted to scream. This person wasn't your Molly!-- This person was another sheep, with the same beautiful white curls as your best friend-- but her face was different, eyes, nose, mouth and ears..

You rolled your eyes and noticed she had you on her lap. Her hand running through your hair as she wore a worried look.

Your voice was so weak. "Who are you? Where am I?"

You couldn't see anything besides her. It was so dark-- but you swore you could hear quiet whimpers and small sniffles.. Like you were surrounded by people crying?

You tried to sit up and let out another gasp. Pain ran through your body while whatever energy you just had completely disappeared..

The girl shook her head. "Please don't move yet. You still need to rest-- it'll take awhile to get whatever they used on us out of your system."

Your body was jerked again. More pain set your nerves on fire-- even the girl herself looked pained as she tried to keep herself up right.

You felt your eyes sting as you began to cry. You couldn't move, you couldn't see, you couldn't even speak! You were so scared-- you wanted to go home! You wanted you parents! You wanted your love Bird to come hold you and tell you that he'd cherish you forever.

"Rest a bit more okay? I promise you we won't hurt you-- were all scared."

What was happening?--- you needed to go home. But your body gave out once more..

-------------------

This time your body was woken up by loud clanking noises followed by the sounds of male voices.

"holland lop bunny huh? We don't get many of those. Call our clients in Tokyo-- fuck what was his name?- Hajime. The bastard has bids on the more exotic girls.."

The voices began to fade away with retreating footsteps..

Your body shivered. It was freezing! You felt sore and still a bit weak. Your eyelids felt sticky that you had to force them open--

Metal bars? Behind that was what looked like dirty cracked concrete?

With a low groan you were able to roll your body from its side to your back.-- a wave of nausea took over..

"Hey bunny. Take it easy.. you'll hurt yourself."

Your eyes roamed over... A flat rusted metal roof, more bars . Were you in a cage?!

You silently answered your own question when you met eyes with the same sheep from before. She sat on her knees in a rusted cage in front of yours.

You gasped and covered your eyes when you noticed she was naked. She let out a weird sound that almost sounded like a pained laugh.

"Don't get shy Bunny. We're all naked here.."

What did she mean? You peeked up and used the bars to slowly help you sit up. Gritting your teeth as you did-- You bones felt stiff-- how long were you asleep?

Your eyes began to water when you got a good look at what was around you. Rows of dirty cages filled with one or more naked bodies.. Mostly women, but you swore you saw a masculine body or two.. You tried not to stare-- Completely terrified and exposed just like the rest..

"What's happening?"

The sheep was about to answer you but another voice came from the cage beside you. "They're going to sell us, Break us, and turn us into slaves.."

She was a love bird just like your Eldon... Only she had chestnut hair and large gold eyes. Her face was bruised and her body was dirtier than all the rest..

"This happened to me before--. I got away.." Her eyes began to water. "But they found me-- punished me.. and now I'm going to die here."

She began to cry. Soon the room almost filled with small whimpers-- even your own tears began to roll down your cheeks.

Sold? Slaves? Breaking?--

The sheep across from you began to panic. "Everyone shh! If we make too much noise they'll come back down here again. Do you all want what the poor skunk got--"

Her eyes traveled to the cage on the opposite end of you. And you made the mistake to follow her gaze---

You let out a scream, you really didn't mean to-- Your body scurried away, closer to the love bird. The cold metal dug into your back as you tried to get as far away from the beaten and dead girl..

The lovebird reach over and covered your mouth. You could feel her shaking against you-- "Quiet!"

And you were. Everyone was-- heavy footsteps sounded like they were so close! But then they began to fade away.

Some let out a breath they didn't know they were holding. ----

A sharp pain bloomed at the back of your head. The love bird had yanked your head back by your hair.

Her voice was low but it held Anger. "You need to shut up. They won't come down here and beat you but they'll beat us. You're worth more money than half of us combined."

You scratched at her skin and she let you go. Of course she called you a bitch but you didn't care. You just wanted away from her and the deceased girl next to you. But all you could do was curl you body into a ball as you sat right in the middle of your cramped cage.

You shook your head and looked at the sheep. She was the only one who seemed a little sane. "I don't want to be sold.. I want to go home-- I miss my boyfriend, my Molly, my family.."

The sheep gave you a sympathetic look. "You don't have a home anymore pet. .. But She's right you know. Bunnies that look like you are rare. - you have the long floppy ears and huge puffy cotton tail. Your kind is naturally obedient.. Someone with money will most likely keep you as their arm candy or trophy wife. You'll have to be okay with that life if you want to live."

"--- Or they'll breed her and sell off her children till she dies.."

Another voice-- A male cat? His body was lean with a bit of muscle and he had dark grey hair, but his ears had white stripes.. He was next to the sheep and had been curled up this entire time.

His bright green eyes locked on you. "I've heard stories about that when I was working in a night club. Your kind can have a good litter if I'm not mistaken. 5-6 if you're lucky?"

You nodded... You had so many siblings it wasn't funny. (47 brothers and sisters) "I was a part of a litter of 10 actually. My mother was very fertile.."

He shook his head. "I'm so sorry. Let's hope you aren't that lucky.. They'll kill you faster if you don't provide them many spawns.."

You gulped-- but didn't say a word as your ears picked up.. Someone was coming!

You could heard two separate steps of heavy feet. They heard you scream! They heard you and were going to take it out on everyone. They'll all hate you even more--

Two dirty looking men began to walk down a couple of concrete steps at the end of the room. "Meal time!"

Almost everyone scooted closer to the bars as you stayed huddled at the back. You could hear the bowls being thrown at everyone along with soft smacking and chewing.

You didn't notice it before but your stomach began to growl.. When was the last time you ate? It had to be the dinner you had with Molly before you were taken..

When the man reached your cage he slammed a dirty metal bowl in front of the bars. He gave you a quick look that left you feeling violated.. But his attention went over to the lovebird..

What was she doing? She had curled up into a ball-- had he gotten hurt somehow?! She didn't look like she was breathing...

"Hey! Feather bitch, meal time."

She didn't flinched..

The man walked away from your cage and you scooted to the bowl.. it had what looked like white rice and some type of brown slop on top... It didt look appetizing-- it smelt sour..

You looked at the sheep and cat as they ate. The male cat locked eyes with you and motioned to your bowl. He mouthed the words "Eat." Before reaching his hands out and getting another scoop with his fingers.

The man began to hit the lovebirds cage as you reached out to the food. The rice was cold and a bit hard-- the tan mush on top tasted horrible. Sour and it felt slimy going down your throat.. But you were so hungry, so weak..

"Bitch get up!"

You stopped trying to chew and just swallowed. It seemed like everyone was trying to mind their own business and eat--

The sheep gave a quick glance and looked worried. But she held her head down and closed her eyes. The cat swiped off any food on his fingers and covered his ears.. He looked disappointed?

You scurried back into the middle of your cage when the man yanked open the lovebirds. He reached in and--

She screamed.. She screamed and called him every dirty name in the book. Her little talons scratched into his skin as he groaned in pain..

"Son of a bitch!!"

She was yanked out by her hair and began to scream. Your eyes wide as her body hit the ground in front of your cage. It was such a loud *Thud* that you were sure you heard a crack when her head was shoved to the ground..

God help her... What do you do? What can you do?!

Nothing....

His belt hit the floor before he picked it up and began to hit her back with his metal buckle. His friend had join him in holding her down.

Your tried to look away. Closed your eyes tight as her screaming made your body shake. But you could hear everything..

You heard them speak in a language you never heard. They began to laugh as you heard the zipper of their pants being pulled down..

She was crying now. You tried to cover your ears but they were right in front of you. Tears squeezed out of your eyes as they began to use her body..

She yelled, cried, begged them to just kill her..

Your heart was breaking.. "please stop."

You tried to yell. But you were a coward, a coward who was just yelling in her mind.

"Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!-- please stop hurting her!"

When they were done with her you were still yelling in your mind. Trying to escape as they threw her bruised and abused body back into her cage. She was no longer conscious but still slightly breathing--

"Bunny you okay?"

It was the cat-- why was he asking you that! You were far from okay! You could feel what you had just ate coming up your throat. Your mind panicked and brought you home.

Your mother in the kitchen, cooking.. And your father at the table telling her what was in the newspaper. Your warm home on the side of the largest hill in your town. Covered in while flowers and thick trees.

You found a way to escape... But you really should have payed attention, you should have opened your eyes.

If you did, you would have seen another man enter the basement-- You would have seen him point at a few cages before he pointed at yours.

You wouldn't have been frightened when your cage jerked and 4 men began to carry you out with a few others.

"What--?"

"Shhh." It was the cat!

He was being carried right in front of you. "Stay quiet, stay calm.."

You felt queasy all over again...

...................

#tokyo revengers #mikey tokyo revengers #x reader #ran haitani #rindou haitani #sanzu haruchiyo #akashi takeomi #kokonoi hajime #mochizuki kanji #tokyo revengers kakucho

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neowonderland · 15 days

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Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun as dark fairytales

Pairings: Werewolf Jeno x reader, Prince Renjun x reader, Prince Jaemin x reader Warnings: dark content

Dark Content, Minor please DNI

Disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction. I do not condone the actions of any characters in this story and the actions do not reflect the idols in any way.

Jeno- Little Red Riding Hood

The villagers always warned against you taking the trail in the woods to your grandmother’s house.

They said it was dangerous for a young one to go alone, to beware of the fairies, the witches, the wolves that might lure you astray. They would try to scare you out of taking the trail by telling you stories, describing in detail people who had gone missing only to turn up mutilated beyond recognition. They told you stories of the people who had gone missing that were never found, never heard of again.

You never listened, ignoring the warnings, always putting your responsibility to take care of your grandmother first. Your grandmother was already isolated enough in the woods, not having many visitors due to the path taken to her home. It didn’t help that she was getting older and older and you never knew when your visit would be the last.

But, in hindsight, you should’ve listened. If you had listened, you wouldn’t have ended up in the scenario you were in now, heart pounding, head dizzy from the adrenaline, sprinting through the woods, a werewolf hot on your trail.

You tried your best to lose the werewolf, Jeno, taking turns you thought you knew down the dark, winding path in the woods. You realized it was a mistake as the surroundings became more and more unfamiliar until you were completely lost, caught cornered in a dead end covered with brambles.

“Little Red, are you done running from me?” Jeno asked, taking confident strides towards you. You cowered, avoiding Jeno’s gaze.

Renjun- Cinderella

“You look so scared. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. I'm just going to make you mine."

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way

It was supposed to be your night out. It was supposed to be your break from the nightmare you called your home-life.

Instead, you were trapped in the center of the ball, trying to free yourself from Prince Renjun’s grip on your wrist. You were surrounded by hundreds of people, gazes burning into you as they all watched your beautiful dress turn back to rags as the clock struck 12.

You can feel your knees grow weak and the tears fall as you heard the gasps of shock and disgust ripple throughout the audience, whispers starting to arise. You tug against Prince Renjun’s grip again, trying to free yourself from his grip again. Everything became too much, the bright chandeliers overstimulating instead of welcoming, the whispers growing louder, the room spinning as you try time and time again to free yourself from Renjun, collapsing onto the floor as your begin to sob.

Renjun watches you as you fall, still gripping your wrist tightly, a soft lovesick smile on his face.

“I’ve found you, my Cinderella. I’ll never let you go.”

Jaemin- The Little Mermaid

You’re trapped, fully dependent on Prince Jaemin

You bang against Jaemin’s chest as Jaemin embraces you.

It’s your wedding day with Jaemin and you want to go home, you want to go back to the ocean and be with your family. Coming to the land and chasing after Prince Jaemin was a mistake. You never should have step foot in the land of the living.

Now you’re stuck on land, unable to communicate with others that you’ve been held captive by Prince Jaemin. You can’t even walk back to the sea, your legs being broken by Jaemin for trying to run away.

You want to shout at Jaemin, scream at him to let you go, tell him that he can’t keep you here and that meeting him was a mistake. You try to scream, you try to yell, but nothing comes out. Jaemin smiles.

“My love, are you throwing another one of your tantrums again? Do you want me to break your arms too like how I’ve broken your legs?”

#nct dream #nct x reader #dark nct #na jaemin #na jaemin x reader #nct dream x reader #huang renjun #huang renjun x reader #lee jeno #lee jeno x reader

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flwersgarden · 2 years

Note

HEYYYY! i love ur writings and i was wondering if u were able to make a cutesy reader falling right into elvis’s traps and her just being so oblivious to it? like she swooshes past all his red flags

note: OOOOH DEAR ANON YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS IDEA, thank you so much for this request and i hope you like it!

elvis presley knew you were the perfect one from the moment he saw you.

you were not just beautiful, as anyone would like their partner to be, but most importantly you truly love him, you take care of him, you support him and most importantly, you don't notice just how much he loves you.

the first time elvis met you was in his comeback special, you were in the audience but anyone could spot you among all the others. wearing your cute pink outfit with shiny makeup and bright smile.

he would sometimes tease you by saying:

“ darling, there's no way you didn't go there with the thought of getting my attention. you were too beautiful to ignore. ”

“ elvis! ” you'd say while laughing. “ you're exaggerating. ”

“ 'm not! ” and you both would laugh.

the comeback special was just the beginning for the cute relationship you had with elvis.

after he asked steve to bring you backstage, you both talked every day at every hour.

and priscilla started to suspect.

“ who are you calling at 3 am? ” she asked one night, while she was giving her back to elvis who just hung up on you; elvis' smile disappearing the moment she spoke.

“ thought you were sleeping. ”

“ clearly. ”

he scoffed, standing up from bed making priscilla turn around, one hand holding the weight of her body.

“ so who? ”

“ who what? ” answered elvis back while putting his robe on.

“ don't make me feel dumb. who are you calling? ”

“ someone important! ” he almost screamed before locking himself in the bathroom.

priscilla just looked down, tears burning her eyes at the thought of losing elvis so soon.

meanwhile you were just soundly sleeping, smile in your face as elvis and you finished your night call.

oh yes, after weeks of meeting you he asked if you both could have 'morning', 'afternoon', 'noon' and 'night' calls. you agreed, quite flustered for being elvis' object of attention.

you thought it wouldn't last, at first, but you told him it was mainly because of your parents.

“ he is no good! ” your father shouted while you were crying in the cheap couch your family owned, your mother shaking her head as disappointment for you evaded her heart. “ he has new girls every week and if he lied to his wife, imagine to his lover! ”

“ no! you don't understand, we are just friends! ”

now it was your mama's turn. “ hah! yes, friends! like the type of 'friends' he has? you probably already gave him your precious gift- ”

“ no! i already told you we are just friends! ”

“ i don't care, stop seeing him! ”

but, oh, you father was such a hypocrite. because the moment he and your mom lost everything, their job, their house and their dignity, he begged you to tell elvis to help them.

“ honey, he can help us. he is such a sweet soul and he is kind to everyone. ”

“ i don't want to use him for his money... ”

“ y/n. we are your parents, darling. do it for us. ”

but you just couldn't!

you, while sobbing, told elvis everything in one of your so many visits you had when he was in your town.

“ but i don't want to ask you that! you earned that money, not my mama! ”

elvis just softly smiled, hugging you and comforting you. a lovers embrace to many others and elvis. for you, a savior embrace.

“ i'd give them money, how about that? ”

you looked up at him, shaking your head while holding his robe.

“ please don't, i just- don't want you to be their money pig. they are so ungrateful-. ”

“ but they're my angel's folks. ”

“ i know, but-. ”

“ doll, come on. lemme take care of you in some way. ”

you just sadly smiled, hugging him with all the strength you could muster while elvis closed his eyes to focus in the sweet smell of your shampoo.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️

a few months after you started dating him, elvis invited you to live with him and his father (who was almost never there because of business; and at elvis request, but you didn't had to know that.) and you accepted, jumping up and down from excitement.

waving your parents goodbye with some elvis presley' expensive napkin while they just waved back, obviously glad that their daughter was going to get married to someone that could give them money.

not that elvis would do that again.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️

elvis got a phone call from your parents while you were playing with some tea game he bought for you.

“ presley residence. ” he asked with a smile on his face, a paper crown in his head that you did with your soft hands, some pink plastic necklace surrounding his neck and with your cute voice in the background asking mr. nini if he wanted more tea.

“ hello, elvis! it's the y/l/n family! ”

elvis' smile dropped.

“ what d'ya want. ”

“ oh, well, that's no way to greet your bride's ol' folks.”

he moved a bit further away from you, glancing back to see you were still focused in the way your ballerina dress wasn't with any wrinkles.

“ hm, what is it? ”

“ well, you see, there's this minor problem her daddy had. ”

he had to hold his tongue to not say 'you're talking to him and i don't have any problem.' — “ what kind of problem? ”

“ well, all of the money has disappeared. y'know the one you gave us last week. ”

he rolled his eyes, sighing, already knowing what was this about.

“ listen, uh, i won't give you anymore money. ”

your mother's rant was cut short.

“ excuse me? ”

“ you heard me. ”

“ why? ”

“ i already have what i want. ” he said while turning to you, waving back when you waved and smiled. “ so, why should i give you any more money? ” he asked, now with you facing his back as you returned to your tea party.

“ i... i don't understand. ” your mother weakly answered back.

“ you really think i was giving you money? it was because she was living with you. but now that she is with me, safe, you don't have nothing to take care of. ”

silence filled the line.

“ we're taking her back, don't touch our baby. ”

he almost laughed.

“ hm. ”

then he hung up.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️

your mother should've known better. that's what elvis told you at Graceland after your mother grabbed you almost violently while you were shopping.

you were in some designer store elvis recommended you to go for the kind of looks you always wanted to wear. pink and white were your main colors, which sometimes made it difficult to just choose a single cloth. but thank god for your lovely boyfriend who always gave you money, even if you sometimes tried to refuse.

while looking at a skirt that grabbed your attention, hard hands grabbed your shoulders spinning you around to meet them.

“ m-mama? what are you-. ”

“ come with me! ” she said as she dragged you out of the store, a few customers looking at you with worry in their eyes.

“ what is this about? ” you asked, suddenly scared. she looked disheveled, with her hair dirty and no makeup on.

“ that man, elvis presley, he-. ” your mother took a deep breath before continuing. “ he ruined us. we asked for the check last month and since that phone call our life has been awful, darling. ” she started sobbing, clinging to you; making your white dress look dirty.

“ mama, i don't know what you talking about. ” you whispered, clearly shocked of seeing your usually stone-face mother so vulnerable.

“ you have to leave, come with us, we're leaving this country if it's necessary-. ”

“ is there a problem, miss? ” you turned around, some clerk looking at you with concern.

“ no, she's my mother. ” you tried to explain between her sobs.

“ okay... ” the clerk hummed after, going inside his store.

you turned, grabbing your mother's arms. “ mama, come on, what happened? truly. ”

your mother looked at you like you just stabbed her.

“ it's the truth! elvis ruined your father business and my bakery, people started throwing rocks at our windows at home. ”

you just shook your head. how dare they?

“ elvis gave you money for, how long? almost a year? and you pay him back with this? ” you scoffed, your usual pacific demeanor no longer there.

“ elvis is a good man, all that i have i owe it to him, you're not going to make me turn into someone disgraceful as you! ”

“ no, baby! please, listen to me, it's all true! ”

“ is what true? ”

your mother gasped, hiding her face between your clothes while you turned your face to the side finding your boyfriend, all dressed up with his sunglasses, looking at the both of you.

you slipped out of your mother's hold, almost running to stand next to him.

“ hey, what happened? ” he asked, grabbing your waist with his arm.

“ no! you stay away from her, you monster! ” your mother pointed a finger at him, her body shaking.

“ please stop! can we just go? ” you muttered the last part.

elvis didn't say anything more, he just turned and walked out with you. ignoring your mother's painful cries.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️

you never had so many friends, your timid demeanor never really hit with anyone but a few. and there was your best friend, who was the only one that understood you.

or so you thought.

you were making dinner with her in the Graceland kitchen, she invited her boyfriend and yours was in a meeting. elvis allowed you to have them as guests so you were happy you could hang out with them in your home.

“ so, how's elvis? ”

“ oh, he's fine, probably a bit tired but he is stubborn so he won't let me keep him at home. ” you quietly laughed.

your best friend just kind of smiled, now looking at you, ignoring the pot in the stove behind her.

“ look, y/n. ” she took off her apron, fixing her hair. “ we've been friends for years and i've always told you the truth. ”

“ that you did. and i will always be grateful! ”

she softly smiled.

“ well, i'm here to tell you the truth again. ” you nodded. “ elvis is a bad man. ”

you dropped your knife.

“ what? ” you turned around, blinking to see if you were dreaming, sadly, you weren't.

“ he didn't let you finish your job, he threatens everyone around you if they want to be friends with you, you even had to ask him for permission for us to come as if you were a child and he ruined your parents; making them die without a penny! ” her voice incremented in volume as she spoke.

you were on the verge of tears, your hands shaking. your best friend, who you thought was the only good thing, besides elvis, that remained in your life betrays you like this.

your parents died because of their disease, elvis told you that himself. he even payed the hospital bills. he wouldn't lie about something like that. he wouldn't lie to you about anything! how dare she?

you couldn't say anything, you just took off your apron and ran upstairs, locking yourself in your and elvis' room. you friend tried to make you come out so 'she could explain' but you didn't want to see her anymore, you cried so much you fell asleep after a few minutes.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️

you were woken up by strong arms lifting you, soft footsteps were heard as the figure walked to the bed.

“ hm? ” you muttered, blinking.

“ hey, baby. ” you unconsciously smiled, that soft velvet voice always made you happy.

“ hi, daddy. ” you whispered, now looking at him.

“ what were you doing in the floor, pretty girl? ” he asked while caressing your hair, that was probably a mess.

you wanted to cry by just remembering.

but instead you looked up at him with your adorable doe eyes.

“ i don't want to talk to anyone but you from now on. ” you pouted, your cheek pressing against his neck.

he hugged you back, quite confused at this sudden confession.

“ i'd love that. ” he leaned his head back to look at you. “ to keep my pretty baby all fo' me. ” he smiled, touching your nose with his finger.

you giggled, he always knew how to make you shy.

“ but what happened, hm? tell me, come on. ”

“ my friend said you were a bad man. ” you whispered, sniffing to keep your tears at bay. “ and i was so angry 'cause after my folks fiasco i thought she... i thought she supported me. ” and that was it, you started to cry again.

elvis just sighed, hugging you back.

“ see, that's why i keep you here, baby. ” he spoke with that soft deep voice he only uses with you, leaving small kisses in the crown of your head. “ because i know how people can take advantage of someone as good as you. ”

you just nodded, your eyes closed as they hurt for crying so much.

“ i really trusted her. ”

the sight of you was like a renaissance painting. your eyes shining with tears and the light above you, your white eyeshadow running under them, your lipgloss leaving little sparks in your lips, you looked like an angel.

“ only trust me. ” elvis whispered.

you could only nod, hugging him again.

#request 🤍#austin!elvis x reader #elvis 2022 #yandere austin!elvis #yandere austin!elvis x reader #yandere!elvis x reader

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