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midnightsnyx · 3 months

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girl at home | mat barzal | part 10

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of alcohol and vomit & fluff and not edited!! word count: 2.6k

a/n: so obviously this is fiction and we don't actually know what Mat or Liana or his parents personalities are actually like but I took some liberty with Liana's personality. see end for more notes cause I don't want to spoil anything :) also sorry this is so late!! i went back to work and then had trouble with this chapter. i hope you all enjoy! likes, reblogs and comments feed my writing soul so let me know what you think <3

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Liana texts you the day after your meet-up with Mat at the park, apologizing for getting angry with you and asking to go out for drinks. You don’t have it in you to still be upset with her for yelling at you because she was always the little sister you never had and just because you and Mat are having problems, doesn’t mean it should affect your relationship with her. Sometimes you wonder if you’re too quick to forgive and forget but you know that this is an exception.

“It’s just weird, y’know?” Liana mutters, laying her head on the dirty bar table. She’s on her third drink and you’re close to cutting her off. “I’m going to be an aunt again, but I have this odd feeling about Calista. Like she’s not telling the entire truth.”

You startle when she suddenly bolts upright and looks at you with wide eyes.

“What if Mat’s not the father? That would make so much sense!”

“How so?” you ask carefully. So far, you have successfully kept the fact that Calista is not pregnant a secret. It’s a secret you will have to take to your grave because you can’t let Marlee get in trouble when all she was doing was trying to help you. The truth might come out some day, but it’s something you will deal with then.

“Mat is just being weird about the whole thing, like he’s hiding something,” she says. “Well, besides the fact that he hasn’t told mom or dad… but there’s something else.” She picks up her glass and drinks the last of her martini before signinally the bartender for a refill.

“I think it’s time we switch you to Shirley Temples,” you say gently, asking the bartender for a couple glasses of water.

She tries to wave you off when you push the water towards her but you give her the all too familiar look that you used to give her when you were both younger.

“Fine, but if I’m getting cut off, so–” she stops talking abruptly, suddenly focused on something across the room. You turn and see a familiar face that makes your heart drop into your stomach because there’s no way she’s that stupid and you’re about to say something but Liana hops off her barstool and before you can stop her, she’s marching across the room to where Calista is sitting. She’s surrounded by a few other people, one of them being a guy you can’t quite place but definitely isn’t Mat, but the real kicker is the drink in her hand.

You’re not in the business of accusing people but the way she’s laughing loudly and swaying a little in her seat makes you think that it’s not a non-alcoholic drink. You stare a little too long because when you snap out of your stupor, it’s to a loud shriek and shouting. Nearly tripping over your own feet, you rush over to find both Calista and Liana being held back by people and shouting at each other. You manage to drag Liana out of the hands of the person holding her back but you can’t help but stare at Calista in shock. You know she’s not pregnant but you didn’t think she was stupid enough to test her luck by getting drunk at a bar and possibly being seen by people who think she is.

“I knew something was off about you,” Liana shouts at Calista who only now seems to realize that you are also in the room. Her face, which was red, pales considerably and her eyes widen when she looks at you.

“You are pregnant!” Liana shrieks and when you hear people gasping and the whispers start, you know you need to get Liana out of here now.

With strength you didn’t realize you have, you drag her outside. She shakes you off as soon as you’re out the doors and promptly throws up all over your shoes. You don’t give yourself time to be grossed out, pulling your phone out of your pocket and calling the first person you think of.

“Hello?” Jax mumbles and you’re panicking enough that you can’t feel sorry that you woke him up.

“I need you to pick us up,” you gasp and suddenly you’re sixteen again, calling him to pick you up from a party that you snuck out to.

Jax doesn’t hesitate before agreeing and asking where you are. You rattle off the name of the bar and he says he’ll be there in ten minutes even though you know his apartment is at least twenty minutes away. You’ve never been so grateful to have him as a friend.

“You didn’t call Mat, right?” Liana asks quietly and you look to see her sitting on the curb, looking absolutely miserable. Her eyes are filled with unspilled tears and you can only imagine what’s going on in her head.

“No,” you tell her, sitting down next to her and wrapping an arm around her. “I called Jax.”

She nods and leans her head on your shoulder. You sit in silence for a few minutes before she speaks and her voice is quiet and shaky.

“She was never pregnant, was she?”

Maybe it’s the natural motherly instinct in you, but you realize you can’t lie to her when she’s so upset.

“No,” you tell her and then she’s crying. You know that she’s drunk which makes her more emotionally vulnerable but you also know how sensitive she’s always been and it’s not a weakness. She wears her emotions on her sleeve and it’s only ever made her kinder and wiser than she should be for her age.

“I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you when Mat told me but I was so confused and upset that he was keeping it from us.”

Then she’s crying even harder. “Oh god, what are we going to tell Mat?”

Truthfully, in the chaos of all this, you haven’t had the chance to think about what you’ll do about Mat. You know Liana won’t keep the truth from him and even if she did, word travels fast and he would eventually find out. You’re not certain he can mentally handle this, not with everything that’s going on between the two of you and his fragile relationship with Nora. He was just getting used to the fact that he has a daughter when Calista dropped the baby bomb on him and now to find out that it’s been a lie? You’ve no idea what he will do.

“I don’t know,” you tell her honestly and sigh in relief when you see Jax’s car come into view. You stand up, helping her back to her feet just as Jax parks and gets out to help you.

He looks worried but doesn’t say anything about yours or Liana’s appearance. Once you’re both settled in his car, he tells you he’s going to bring you both to his apartment for the night, obviously not feeling comfortable dropping you home when you’re upset and intoxicated. You know he’s right but all you want to do is curl up in your own bed.

“Alright,” you agree eventually and he nods, starting the drive back to his place. You must nod off because the next thing you know, Jax is gently shaking your arm, waking you up.

“I can’t carry you both in,” he jokes and you look back to see Liana completely knocked out. She grumbles when you wake her but she’s coherent enough to walk.

Jax’s boyfriend, Eli, already has their guestroom set up so you get Liana in the bed and then situate yourself on the air mattress. Jax leaves with a promise to check on you both throughout the night and if you weren’t so worried about Liana, you would tell him not to worry but you’re not taking any chances with her.

You lay awake for a while, not able to get the image of Calista drunk and with another guy out of your head. You don’t know how to tell Mat about it and Liana probably won’t either but eventually you drift off to sleep.

. . .

The next morning, you wake before Liana. Jax came in and checked on you both a few times before deciding that it was okay to leave you so you’re surprised to find him awake when you make your way out to the kitchen. It’s just past 8 o’clock but he’s cooking breakfast, singing off tune to Taylor Swift.

“Hey,” you say softly, sitting at the breakfast bar. You know he’s going to want an explanation because even though he let you off the hook last night, he’s going to want to know why Liana was crying and you had vomit on your shoes when he picked you up.

“Morning,” he replies, placing a coffee in front of you and a piece of plain toast. You can feel his eyes watching you eat and once you’re done, he looks at you expectantly.

“We saw Calista at the bar last night,” you explain. “Drunk and with some random guy.”

“Huh,” he says, so you look at him. His face is neutral, not showing if he’s surprised.

“What does huh mean?”

“I mean, you did say something was off about her.”

That was putting it lightly because although you couldn’t tell him the full story in fear that Marlee would lose her job, you did express your concerns about her without telling him that you knew she wasn’t pregnant.

“Yeah,” you sigh.

You hear shuffling from the guest room and look to see Liana walking into the kitchen. She plops down next to you and groans.

“I’m never drinking again,” she says and you can’t help but chuckle despite the circumstances.

“Said every hungover person ever,” you say and a small smile crosses her face before she frowns, clearly remembering last night's events.

“I have to tell Mat,” she says. “It’s not fair to him that she lied.”

You sigh but nod in agreement.

“I have to pick Nora up from my moms,” you tell her. “Are you okay to tell him yourself?”

You really don’t want to be there when Mat finds out, not when you’re dealing with your own feelings towards him.

“Yeah,” she says, eating the toast Jax offers her.

You both finish your coffee and then Jax drives you to your apartment and you drop Liana home before picking Nora up.

She’s ecstatic to see you, telling you everything she did with grandma from the moment you dropped her off until now picking her up.

“And then, Millie hissed at me but Gizmo barked and scared her away,” she takes a deep breath before continuing her ramblings. “Can we get a kitten?”

“You’re allergic, remember?” You remind her, and then a thought pops into your mind. Where did she see your mother’s neighbor's cat? “Where did you see Millie?”

“Mrs. Turner invited us over for tea,” she tells you and then offhandedly adds: “she asked about you and Mat.”

This doesn’t surprise you because Mrs. Edna Turner is quite the gossiper. You have trust in your mother that she didn’t tell Edna anything private but you’re still curious what exactly they talked about and you know that your child can be sneaky when she wants to be.

“What did Mrs.Turner ask?” you ask, rolling your eyes when she sighs dramatically and puts her tablet away.

“Well, first she asked if Mat was really my daddy and when Grandma said yes, she said ‘that poor child’,” she says, face scrunching up in confusion. “What does that mean?”

You make a mental note to talk to your mom about bringing Nora to any future tea parties at Mrs. Turner’s.

“Nothing,” you assure her. “What else did she say?”

“She told grandma that if she were you, she wouldn’t move me to New York.” Her eyes narrow and she frowns. “I thought you said we weren’t moving to New York.”

“We’re not.”

“Then how come Mrs.Turner said that?” she demands.

“‘Cause Mrs. Turner doesn’t know how to mind her own business,” you mumble and then sigh, looking at Nora so she’s listening. “We’re not moving to New York, okay?”

She nods and then smiles. “Can we go get ice cream?”

“Yeah, we can go get ice cream,” you tell her even though it’s nearly dinner.

Every once in awhile, ice cream for dinner is in order.

. . .

It’s past midnight when there’s a quiet knock on your door, and the only reason you’re awake to hear it is because Liana let you know she told Mat the truth about Calista. She told you that he had left the house as soon as she told him that morning and hadn’t returned home all day. You were expecting a text from him but your phone was silent and that worried you even more.

So, when you open the door to find Mat standing in front of you, red rimmed eyes and looking about two seconds away from crying, you don’t hesitate to let him inside. He slips past you and toes his shoes off before going straight for the couch and sitting down on it. You hesitate, but eventually settle down next to him.

He’s resting his elbows on his knees, hiding his face in his hands and it takes you a minute to realize he’s crying silently.

“Mat…”

“I just - fuck, I thought that this was my second chance, you know? It wasn’t ideal but I would get to do all the things I missed with Nora,” he says, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I was such an idiot.”

It’s not a dig towards you but you still can’t shake the guilt you always feel when he talks about everything he didn’t get to see. Her first steps, first words, first day of kindergarten. All the things you can never get back.

“It’s not your fault,” you say gently. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I should’ve,” he mumbles and before you can say anything, you hear soft footsteps coming down the hallway. You look to see Nora, rubbing her eyes sleepily and frowning when she sees Mat.

When he realizes she’s there, he wipes his eyes hastily but it’s not fast enough because Nora walks over to him and deepens her frown.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly, reaching out and touching his cheek that’s still damp.

Mat looks like he’s going to say that he’s fine but seems to change his mind last minute. He smiles sadly and shakes his head.

“Not really, peanut,” he tells her and the frown on her face deepens even more than you thought possible.

“Mama says hugs make things better when you’re sad,” she says, sounding much wiser than a six-year-old should sound. Then, without asking, she climbs up onto his lap and wraps her tiny arms around his neck and hugs him. You can see the moment Mat breaks, hugging her back gently and it’s like all the tension drains from his body.

You call it the “Nora Effect”, because her little hugs always seem to make you feel better.

“I’m so sorry, Nora,” you hear Mat whisper and you know he’s going to beat himself up over everything that’s happened with Calista - and Nora deserves his apologies, but your kid is one of a kind and you know that she will forgive him.

With time, if he proves himself, he’ll have a place in her life and you can’t wait to see what the future holds for them.

authors notes: so calista is goneeeee FINALLY. she wasn't supposed to be here as long as she was but I got too carried away with that storyline and i'm glad it's over lol also, I had mixed thoughts about having mama be the one who told Mat that Calista was lying but I just couldn't get it right so I figured next best thing would be Liana! ps: millie is named after my own cat who i will put a pic of in the comments below

tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @fallinallincurls @lovinbarzal @whatthepuckisgoingon @teapartydreams @alilstressyandlotdepressy @keiva1000 @hischiershoe @bellstwd

@alwaysclassyeagle @brrbrina @nonsensical-nonsence @love-like-woaah @swift-sos @barzygirl13 @ilyrafe

if you want to be added or taken off the list, please let me know :)

#allies writing #hockey imagines #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x you #mathew barzal x reader #hockey fanficiton #hockey imagine

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piratefishmama · 1 year

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Forgiven Not Forgotten | Part 2

Out of the estimated 10 to 15,000 people in Hawkins Indiana, several hundred left just after the earthquake, a handful of families left during the serial killings to protect their families, and the rest?

Those remaining amounted up to about three hospitals worth. Four maximum. Whatever terrors had wrought through Hawkins during those two years of radio silence… had decimated the population.

So when the Harringtons got the call, when Steve’s croaky voice filled that speaker, and told them exactly where he was, which hospital they’d been taken to, they hadn’t wasted a single second, they jumped into the car, and broke several speed laws to get there.

The sight that greeted them on the other side of those double doors would be forever seared into their minds.

Families they’d known, broken, missing members neither Lynda or John wanted to assume about, were they alive, being treated in one of the rooms, or were they lost, neither wanted to know, so they pushed through, eyes roaming those waiting to be seen or waiting for news on friends and family until someone familiar appeared.

Lynda spotted her first, her legs pulled up on the chair, arms tucked around her knees, surrounded by a small hoard of younger teens, all supporting various non-life threatening injuries and scars they probably didn’t want to speak about.

It was like they’d come from a warzone, clothes torn, patched up by rags tied in places to cover skin, dirty skin, hair matted, clinging to each other, haunted. Nothing life threatening, it looked like they were all just… waiting.

Waiting for people who knew them to turn up for them.

“Robin!!” Lynda gasped, loud enough to catch the girls attention, her head snapping up, eyes wide as the parents rushed forward, Robin rose to her feet, stumbled almost just in time to be gathered up into Lynda’s arms, much to her surprise. She didn’t fight it though, no… instead she melted into it, as though it was the first physical contact she’d had that didn’t involve fighting for her life in two whole years. “Where—where are your parents, Robin?”

“T-They… I don’t know, they got out… I think… but I—I haven’t seen them, I think people are still learning that they can come back, if they even want to come back, I mean… there isn’t much left back there for anyone to come back to—Steve! Steve you want—you want Steve right?” The other kids seemed to have perked up, watching the interaction in confusion.

“Where is he, Robin?” Robin looked to John, her gaze a mixture of uncertainty and hesitance. “Please… we know he’s here, he called us, sounded—”

“He’s been in and out, worlds best babysitter took a beating from something… big, protecting these idiots.” They hadn’t been made to sign anything yet, but it was hard to explain what exactly had come for them in the end without sounding like she should be in a hug me jacket getting thrown into a rubber room. “C’mon, I’ll take you to him.”

“Robin? Who’s—” one of the kids started to rise from his seat, or… not a kid, probably closer to a young adult at that point, forced to grow up far too quickly.

“Steve’s parents.”

“Holy shit, they exist?” Both parents cast similar frowns in the boys direction for that little quip “—sorry It’s just… I’ve known him for years and never met you, doesn’t even—”

“That’s enough Dustin” Robin cut him off, sharply but not unkindly. “You don’t know everything, just drop it. C’mon, this way.” She seemed to be walking on a limp, but she was walking, leading them down a corridor until she made it to a door left slightly ajar, the one opposite it flanked on either side by a pair of soldiers. The Harringtons assumed she’d be leading them to the other. But no. She stopped outside of the one closed too and looked at the pair like they’d personally offended her.

They didn’t even try and stop her when she grabbed the handle, instead stepping a little further apart to allow her and her guests to enter with her, John closed the door behind him.

The room was quiet, mostly, save for a radio playing quietly by the window, a genre that no-one would ever assume could be played quietly, and the steady beep of life saving machines. It wasn’t a large room, only big enough for a single bed, the machines, some room to walk around, and a couple of chairs, private, but it housed two people anyway. One on the bed, hooked up to all those machines, skin pale, scarred, his hair long and messy in a way Lynda would probably guess he’d had curls at one point.

Not anymore, it was just a matted mess by that point, one of his hands resting in the linens, handcuffs on his wrist linking him to the bed, the other wrapped in someone else’s grip.

That someone else… the other—

“Steven?” His head snapped up at his father’s voice, hand swiftly withdrawing from the man’s in the bed, his hair had been cut short, possibly to the scalp for convenience, the lengths seemingly only just growing back, he had scars around his neck from what looked like barbs, scars down his arms, both old and new, bruising, treated injuries that'd likely looked way worse when he was admitted.

another round of injuries his parents figured he'd struggle to tell them about.

He rose to his feet, he looked… thin beneath the hospital garbs they’d put him in. Thinner than he should have been, he’d always been broad but now… it was as though he hadn’t had a decent meal in two years. Likely living off of whatever they could scrounge together.

“Stevie, my baby…” Lynda’s voice sounded more like a pained whine, but it was the only warning Steve got before his mother lurched forward and wrapped him up in a fierce hug, adjusting only when her son winced and hissed in pain “you—you were s-supposed to—you were supposed to call to—to contact us, you—”

“I know… I know I—we got cut off, that call, it was the last one any of us could make, those bastards cut us off when they realised it wasn’t gonna be like the times before.” It wasn’t going to be a quick one and done. That the thing they were dealing with was much bigger than just one evil.

It was a whole hoard of evil. Not just Henry. Henry had back up in the form of a gigantic evil cloud, monsters of all shapes and sizes, and an arsenal of loved ones to use as his own personal puppets to terrorize and destroy the people left behind. Eddie being the only one actually there.

“The times before?” John’s voice had his son looking up from the hug his mother had trapped him in. His eyes seemed to dip “Steven… please…”

Steve shook his head, he couldn’t, not there anyway. “I’m fine though,” he’d change the subject instead, a regular instance in the Harrington household, hide the truth and mask it with an “I‘m fine” “bit banged up, but I’ll live…” he released the hold on his mother, even if she didn’t want to let go just yet.

“Who’s this…?” And they let it happen. Every time they let it happen, let the subject go, let it switch to something new, John would allow it for now, but… once out of there, once the dust settled, they’d be having that talk. For now, he was okay with letting the subject change. Aiming it instead at the elephant in the room.

The unconscious man in the bed his son had been holding onto moments ago. That ember, that tiny spark in his son, perhaps… perhaps it was still there.

“Eddie… he uh… he helped, at the end… he—we wouldn’t be alive without him… we thought—we thought he was dead for months but… he wasn’t.” Another touchy subject, but at least that one his son was willing to talk about.

“The handcuffs?”

“Police still think he killed a bunch of kids before the earthquake, the handcuffs are a ‘precaution’ apparently, as if he’s going anywhere.” The serial killer. Eddie Munson. Lynda’s head snapped to the man, eyes wide “he didn’t!” Steve was quick to assure her “It looked bad, it did, it looked like he did it, but he didn’t, he wouldn’t he—he’s good… he’s good. He saved us.”

“Saved you? How?”

“It’s hard to explain…”

Robin on the other hand, didn’t care quite as much as their son did when it came to hiding the facts. “Evil guy, Henry Creel, actual culprit in the Creel murders of ’59 and actual serial killer, we thought Eddie died before the earthquake cause he basically got ate alive by a bunch of evil bats, but Henry was using him as a henchman of sorts, kept him alive to use against us cause we all felt guilty over it which… y’know, fair, he didn’t have to stay involved but he did, and he got ate of course, we felt guilty. I dunno how, but he snapped out of it at like… the last minute, and bought us enough time to take him down, now he’s just…” she motioned to the bed, the steady beep of the monitor going off rhythmically. “We got him out this time though.”

“…What?” Both Harringtons asked in unison.

“Robin” Steve hissed.

“What? Jeez, they haven’t made us sign anything yet.”

“…Sign something? What do you mean sign something?” Lynda looked between them, the two young adults clearly exhausted. “Steven? What have you signed?”

“NDA’s mom, each time, they’ve forced us to sign these Non-Disclosur—”

“Who?”

“Y’know… the government?”

There was something distinctly satisfying about watching a 5’4" woman demolishing a government agent. Something almost the entirety of the Party managed to witness when someone from said government finally decided to grace them with their presence to sign those pretty shut your mouth documents they were so fond of dolling out.

John Harrington watched with what could only be described as a dopey grin on his face as he leaned in to whoever was closest, this being one very tired Mike Wheeler, to say “You know she majored in Contract Law back in the day? Minor in Ethics too. God look at her go.” Totally and completely smitten over his own wife’s rage.

Apparently forcing minors to sign NDA’s, while technically legal for them to scribble on the dotted line, couldn’t actually be held up anywhere in court due to age and how dare they force children, not just her OWN but other children to sign that shit without a parent or legal guardian present.

It ended with her loudly declaring that “NOBODY in this hallway will be signing your goddamn papers, and as for the previous ones? You’ll be hearing from our lawyers.” Then, on her heel she turned, and returned to the group, leaving a stunned government agent floundering in the hallway having clearly expected an easy ride. “Everyone, get your things, you’re coming home with us.” Too revved up to stop just yet.

“Excuse me, why would we go with you? Ain’t you ever heard of stranger danger, ma’am?”

“Erica Sinclair, I held you when you were just 3 months old and I bought you and your brother your first strollers, now get your backside out to that car this instant.” Erica shut up, momentarily subdued, but she did have to wonder when exactly her parents had met the Harringtons, later, questions for later. Maybe when she and her brother found their parents. “We have a house with two bathrooms and enough food to feed an army, let’s go.” Not quite the six bathroom four bedroom estate they’d had in Hawkins but…

They weren’t going back there. Nobody was going back there.

The modest two bed close by would do as home base for now, even if it wasn’t quite big enough to hold everyone, they’d make do. John stepped forward to add, “we have a working phone too, get you in touch with the people you need to be in touch with, and we’ll let the front desk know to inform anyone who comes looking where you’ve gone. It’ll be okay, let’s get you out of here and cleaned up.”

“Mom… I’m not leaving Eddie, we’re not… not again, he’s—he’s all on his own I—I can’t.”

“Honey…” Lynda started, but… that little boy they’d long since watched withdraw into himself, he was just… there, for the briefest of moments, showing himself, his emotions, raw, and tired, but it was enough, her son was in there, clawing back to the surface, she wasn’t about to ruin it now. “How about we go home, we get you all cleaned up, get you something to eat, and then we come back and figure out what to do about Eddie, how’s that sound?”

“We have plenty of world class lawyers on our side, Son, we’ll get him out of here in no time, just… let’s get you cleaned up first, Okay? The house is only half an hour away.” Close, they’d be close, the hesitation on all of their faces though, this poor boy, whoever he was… they all hesitated to leave him, there was a lot of love in that hallway, each one as determined as the last to stay with their friend.

“…Alright shitheads, to the car.” Not a single one of those kids argued, Steve was in charge, but Mike and Lucas both hung back.

“I’m gonna stay with the Byers, Nance, Holly, and my mom are with them so—”

“An I’m gonna stick with Max until her mom gets here.” Doctors said she could wake up at any time after her brain activity kicked back up when the dust settled… when Henry died. He wanted to be there when she did. “I’ll be fine though, promise.”

And when Lynda stepped forward to hand Mike a little card with a number scribbled on it, saying “This is our home number, If anything changes with your friend, Eddie while we’re gone, call us, okay? We’ll be right back here in a flash.” She caught the faint smile on her sons face in her peripheral vision.

Baby steps.

Part 4

#PirateWrites #ForgivenNotForgottenFiclet #Steddie #Post!S5 #Mentions of Kas Eddie #Hurt/Comfort #Miscommunication

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jesterofcringe · 9 days

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Drain you of your love [Until you hate me.] vampire!shauna x witch!reader

★ TW for murder and blood ★ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

★ The last thing you expected to see in the basement of one of Jeff's infamous parties was Randy Walsh's still warm dead body. On the bathroom floor he laid sprawled out, face twisted in something of agony as blood gushed out of his neck and dirtied his surroundings. There was no denying that he was murdered. Worse however, there was no denying Shauna Shipman was to blame.

★ There was blood everywhere- the baby blue walls, the bathmat (which, for some reason, was in front of the sink), and leaking into the tiles as well as foundation keeping them still- but most of it was on Shauna. You would've thought she was the one who had gotten hurt due to the sheer mess of red on the front of her shirt, but the way her palms were almost dyed red as she tried to wipe her hands on his shirt told you otherwise. In an almost nauseating way, a lot of it smeared around the corners of her mouth, meeting at the base of her chin before tracing along her jawline. Like an uncoordinated runway, the blood would slither down the outline of her throat before collecting on her shirt.

★ If you hadn't known Shauna was a vampire, you probably would've fainted.

★ "...Holy shit." You mumbled, absolutely gob smacked on the carnage in front of you, "How did you even manage to do this?"

★ Shauna looked just as confused as you as she fumbled for a good answer, "I don't know! I just wanted to feed off him I didn't know he'd..." She didn't finish her sentence, instead gesturing to the bloodbath at her feet.

★ "When's the last time you ate?"

★ "I don't know... a few weeks ago I guess."

★ "Oh my god Shauna. That's the problem." You groaned, frustrated that you knew more about vampires than the literal vampire. In all fairness, she had turned recently- perhaps a few months ago- and was still getting used to it. Knowing of your status as a witch, Shauna decided to go to you for help. You're not a supernatural expert, but you knew enough about them to give her basic advice, "You need to eat at least once a week. What happened to the animal blood?"

★ Shauna made a face, "That stuff tastes awful."

★ "So I've heard, but it's all I've got." The more you thought about it, the more you felt bad. You couldn't imagine what it must've felt like, the moral conflict of needing to consume human blood in order to survive. Many tried to resist the urge, but the withdrawal just made the desire stronger until the hunger was strong enough to drive someone into quite literally going feral. You never understood why people labeled vampires as monsters until you watched it happen with Shauna, witnessing her spiraling and damn near losing your life as you tried to get her back.

★ Now you were doing your ever loving best to make sure Shauna never descended to that level again, and here the two of you were staring at a pale corpse after Shauna slipped and accidentally took more than Randy could give. You really do need to start keeping a better eye on her.

★ Though it was awful to look at, you brought your attention back to the crime at hand, "So, what's your plan on avoiding jail time?"

★ "I didn't really think that far ahead."

★ "How did you even get him down here?"

★ Shauna rolled her eyes and scoffed, "I literally told him what I was gonna do and he fucking followed me. He took it as a weird innuendo when I meant it as a threat."

★ "That's... a very Randy Walsh thing to do." In a weird way, you honestly weren't very surprised.

★ "He kinda deserved it."

★ "Victim blaming someone who was murdered is insane."

★ "Shut up." Shauna shoved past you to get to the sink, being very careful not to step on the bloody mat while she ran her hands under the faucet water to rinse the rest of the blood down the drain, "We need to do something about the body."

★ "We? You're the one who killed him!"

★ "Well now you've both seen the body, so you're officially an accomplice."

★ You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose as you struggled to come up with a solution, "I guess what I'm really wondering is what you expect me to do about this."

★ "Aren't you a witch? Can't you like, teleport him out of here?"

★ "That is absolutely not how it works. Best I could do is draw a protection sigil on the door but I know how you feel about those." You honestly didn't know why you were even mentioning it. Shauna hates your protection sigils, and you really didn't know why. You insist they aren't dangerous, but she won't have it. You had to take to wearing different charms as drawing on your arms was an instant way to piss her off.

★ She completely ignored your comment, "I kind of wish we could just frame someone, but the puncture wounds in his neck are kind of a giveaway.

★ "We could probably frame it on Randy."

★ Shauna looked at you like you had three heads, "Did you not hear what I said or are you planning on making it look like Randy somehow bit himself to death?"

★ "I bet if we smear his fingerprints over a pair of scissors and place them well enough it'll look like he just kinda..." You trailed off as you were sure Shauna saw where you were going with this. Although she saw the vision, she was still somewhat skeptical, "I mean, what other ideas do we have?"

★ Shauna hummed as she contemplated the idea, "There are some scissors in the kitchen, I'll run and grab them quickly-"

★ "-Absolutely not." You quickly interjected, gesturing to her clothes, "You look like the final girl in a cheap horror flick. I'll get the scissors while you clean up."

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

★ The car ride home is awkward to say the least.

★ The two of you spent a considerable amount of time dressing the crime scene before promptly leaving the party. Shauna wasn't able to get all of the blood out of her clothes, but she was able to clean just enough so it no longer looked like she had just escaped a saw trap. You grabbed a spare hoodie from your car and let her wear it out. As you left, the both of you made an excuse about Shauna not feeling good and needing a ride home.

★ "Do you think Jackie would've noticed how long you were down there?"

★ You watched a wave of realization cross over Shauna's face as she contemplated your question, "...Jeez, I think this is the only time I've actually hoped she was too busy with Jeff."

★ "Does she know you're a vampire?"

★ "God I hope not." Shauna scoffed.

★ "Am I the only one that knows?"

★ "Yeah and I plan on keeping it that way."

★ You would've rolled your eyes at her, but you had to keep your eyes on the road, "With how reckless you've been acting, we'll be lucky if I'm the only one that knows for much longer." Shauna sighed and didn't say anything. You both knew it was true with how many close calls you guys barely dodged. You just wished you could help more.

★ It suddenly dawned on you that you totally could help more, but you knew Shauna wasn't going to be fond of your solution.

★ "Honestly, why don't you start feeding off me?"

★ "Hell no." Shauna responded sharply, "You know how that went last time."

★ "That only happened because you refuse to take care of yourself," You cut back, "The only reason why you tend to feel ravenous is because you wait too long. Small dosages off me every few days is the best of both worlds- you stay fed and I don't have to worry about murder charges."

★ Shauna was quiet, paying more attention to the streetlights flashing by than your suggestion, "Is that really our last option?"

★ "I guess not. You could try robbing hospitals but that will also land you in jail." you quipped back. Shauna audibly groaned.

★ "I just..." She frowned, talking quietly as if so much as speaking about the subject was a crime, "...what if I hurt you again?"

★ "I won't let that happen. I'll hex you or something, I dunno." Another groan. Tough crowd. "Are you scared you'll develop a taste only for my blood?"

★ "Kinda."

★ You were about to make a dumb quip about that being kinda hot but decided against it considering the seriousness of the current conversation.

★ "If you have to drink my blood for the rest of my life so be it."

★ "Don't be stupid," Shauna scowled, "Eventually I'm going to-"

★ "-Would you quit pretending you're some monster and face the facts? I don't give a shit if it hurts, I'm going to help you survive. End of discussion."

★ Shauna was secretly grateful, but she'd never admit that. Instead rather, she was desperate to have the final say and she crossed her arms pretending to still be upset about it, "Fine."

★ The idea of being vampire prey indefinitely was scary, you couldn't deny that. But the idea of losing Shauna when you know you can help her is somehow scarier. She needed you, the both of you knew that. You just wished she would stop being so stubborn about it.

#title is from “Yes to Er is Human (So Don't Be One)” by Will Wood #vampire!shauna is so fun to write #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets fanfic #yellowjackets x you #shauna shipman x you #shauna shipman x reader

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silverflameataraxia · 3 months

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I can't stand Arya thinking she's not worthy of being ransomed because she's not a proper Lady.

Arya didn't know how much Robb would pay for her, though. He was a king now, not the boy she'd left at Winterfell with snow melting in his hair. And if he knew the things she'd done, the stableboy and the guard at Harrenhal and all..."What if my brother doesn't want to ransom me?" "Why would you think that?" asked Lord Beric. "Well," Arya said, "my hair's messy and my nails are dirty and my feet are all hard." Robb wouldn't care about that, probably, but her mother would. Lady Catelyn always wanted her to be like Sansa, to sing and dance and sew and mind her courtesies. Just thinking of it made Arya try to comb her hair with her fingers, but it was all tangles and mats, and all she did was tear some out. "I ruined that gown that Lady Smallwood gave me, and I don't sew so good." She chewed her lip. "I don't sew very well, I mean. Septa Mordane used to say I had a blacksmith's hands."

- Arya VII, ASoS

Sansa may be able to sing and dance and sew and mind her courtesies, but how has that helped her? She's still treated like garbage. The only reason people care about her is because of her claim to Winterfell, so much so that Sansa wonders if anyone will ever love her for her and not for her claim.

Being a proper Lady wouldn't have helped Arya endure her hellish circumstances. In fact, I would say that Arya being Arya is why she's been able to survive. If she was anyone else, I doubt she could have.

Arya is my favorite fictional character of all time, but her POV's are so hard to read because of how much she hates herself and doesn't think she's worthy of anything.

#a song of ice and fire #sansa and arya #robb stark #winterfell #beric dondarrion #catelyn stark #sansa stark #septa mordane #asoiaf #pro arya stark #catelyn tully #a storm of swords #arya stark #george rr martin #arya #valyrianscrolls #canonaryastark #canonarya

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lady-october · 4 months

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Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Previous Chapters : Available on Ao3

Story Content : Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Rough sex, Sadism/Masochism, Dom/Sub, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Orgasm denial, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

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Chapter 20: Is this what you wanted?

Chapter title is lyrics from "Kool-Aid"

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Darkness fell as soon as the door slammed shut behind us.

I don’t know how Oli could see anything in his hotel room when I was struggling to make out even the most basic of shapes after having been out in the bright corridor.

Where Mat just saw me be hauled off to – very obviously – be fucked.

But before I knew it I was no longer draped over Oli’s shoulder and my body had successfully connected with the mattress where he’d thrown me.

Panic washed over me like a tsunami as what just happened began to sink in, making me worry about their friendship; making me worry about Oli, and about Mat; making me worry I’ve fucked everything up beyond repair, that there’s no going back, that tonight’s sex with Oli – regardless of how badly I craved it – might put a nail in our coffin.

I heard myself hyperventilate as my eyes struggled to adjust to the room, faint washes of blue from the moonlight spilling through the large arch windows painting the room in navy and grey hues, the silhouette of the man at the end of the bed nearly completely black, with a slight sparkle hitting his eyes as his hands worked their way downwards to undo the buttons he had just buttoned not even a half hour ago, the light and excited energy he was emitting then having been snuffed out, replaced with the anger that permeated the air so thickly it was hard to breathe.

I couldn’t blame him. He had begged me multiple times to not tell him, to not torment him with the mental images of me and his best friend, yet I couldn’t help myself. I had to tell him.

“Strip.” He commanded as he shrugged out of his dress shirt, throwing it onto the floor.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” The heartbeat in my throat threatened to choke me as I pushed the words out.

He huffed out a breath, “Why? Cause we ran into Mat?”

I tried to search for the right words, the words that would convey how I felt, how worried I was, but everything sounded wrong in my head – so self centred.

“You scared he’ll figure out we’re fucking tonight? Cause I’m pretty sure that cat’s out of the bag, love.” He said with sarcasm in his voice when I didn’t respond.

“I don’t want to be the reason you two fall out.” I blurted out, wanting to correct him, wanting him to know my fears aren’t just about myself.

There was a pause as he undid his belt, his head dipped before he muttered, “You know nothing about our friendship. Strip.”

The last word was nearly growled, springing my body into action, making me pull my sweater over my head out of instinct. It was only after I threw it to the side that I realised what I was doing, that I still wasn’t sure we should be doing this – but not unsure enough to use the safeword that would put a stop to it.

“Y-you could go talk to him if you want, and we can do this after.” My words came so meek, so soft, so pathetic.

“And tell him what? That he’s been kissing the mouth I cum in?” He spat, pulling the belt out of the trousers so fast it made a whirring sound. The rage simmering under the surface, close to boiling over, “That my whore wants to fuck him?” His belt hit the wall across the room, and from the sound the buckle made on impact I’d be surprised if it didn’t leave a dent.

I shouldn’t want to do this, I should say the safeword and talk to him, but the truth was the rage made me want him more, made my core throb in anticipation, made the wetness between my legs build to an uncomfortable level.

“I never said that.” The familiar fluster was back in my voice. Predictable and uncontrollable.

I hated myself.

He shook his head as his cock sprung free from the trousers that fell to the floor.

I instinctively crept backwards when he got on the mattress and began stalking towards me, adrenaline rushing through my veins, but he was quick, grabbing my leg, pulling me towards him, holding onto me with a strength I hadn’t felt from him before.

It hit me why I needed a safeword tonight; he was done holding back. Instead it was up to me when I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Don’t you?” His hands busied themselves with undoing my jeans as I fumbled for words, not sure what to answer considering the attraction I felt for Mat. My hands reached for his in an attempt to slow us down, but he slapped them away. My vision had adjusted enough to the darkness that I could see the anger crystal clear in Oli’s eyes; he was fuming, but also clearly in agony, overcome with jealousy.

All I could do was open and close my mouth, speechless, as he peeled my jeans off of me.

“What is it, love? You want my blessing to fuck my best friend?” The jeans were thrown with the same intensity as all the other garments, the close proximity of the rage flooding me with yet another rush of adrenaline.

I shook my head, “N-no.”

His eyes fell to the underwear I was still wearing after my date with Mat. I had completely forgotten to take them off before coming over, being too busy panicking over talking to Oli about everything that’s happened the last 24 hours.

He must have seen the panic in my eyes, his gaze growing even darker as he yanked them off of me.

“You shouldn’t have told me any of this.” He muttered as he spread my legs, crawling between them, crawling on top of me.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered as his hair tickled my face, the sex I was trying to postpone having become imminent as I knew I couldn’t bring myself to actually stop it. His otherwise hazel eyes like blue flames in the moonlit room, only inches from mine, both intense with emotion yet somehow dead and void of them at the same time.

“Shut up, Alice.” Is all he said before he pushed into me carelessly, painfully, making me cry out as he buried himself inside me deep enough that our hips connected in one hard thrust.

My world was spinning, my heart racing, and my breath catching, but through the cloud of overwhelming sensations I could hear his uneven breaths joining mine, feel the heat from the puffs of air leaving his mouth against my shoulder, through the mesh fabric of my crop top as his head had fallen forward, his soft locks pushing into my face, obscuring some of my vision.

Fleetingly I wondered if whatever magic scent he always emitted came from a hair product, as I was suddenly flooded by it, my nerves inexplicitly soothed by the calming aroma.

But considering the situation, this was not the time for settled nerves, made very clear by the hand that appeared on my collarbone, holding me firmly, possessively, in place as he pushed himself up, staring intensely at me under heavy eyelids.

The hand holding me in place followed the curve of my neck to my shoulder, the corners of his lips twisting into a sadistic smile as his grip tightened, pushing me down harder onto his cock, effectively pinning me against him.

Excitement and fear exploded in my chest as I realised I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to, knowing he wants to hurt me, torture me, and the only way out of this is one single word in the entire English language.

With that knowledge I couldn’t help but feel curiosity, making me want to explore my options, to try and escape just to see what would happen.

“Get off me.” I whispered shyly, testing the waters.

He huffed out a laugh that made his dick tense inside me, amused by my pathetic attempt, followed by his less busy hand grabbing the hem of my top along with my bra, and yanking it upwards to free one of my breasts with a bounce.

I yelped, still not accustomed to him using his full strength while handling me.

“Stop.” I said with a bit more authority.

But he completely ignored it, instead he wrapped his fingers around my nipple, causing my eyes to widen, knowing how sensitive my nipples are, knowing how easy it is to inflict pain upon them.

“Wait, no, wait–”

“This will hurt.” He said with a massive grin before his fingers dug into my shoulder even more, and he pinched my nipple, twisting it as he went.

I screamed, trying to push him off of me but he was immovable. I could hear him laughing as the searing pain shot through me like lightning.

“No, no, no, no, please!” I begged, trying to materialise the word that he told me to use if I needed him to ease up, and thankfully it came to me quickly, “Pink, pink, piiiink!”

While the tension on my nipple eased at the word, he was still pinching it agonisingly hard.

“Is that it, is that all you can take?” He asked, mockingly. As I looked up at his gleeful eyes, glowing with a depraved excitement, I felt the delicious high rush over me, the wonderful aftermath of having him inflict pain on me, the sweet release I’ve been craving for hours.

“Disappointing.” He added, but he didn’t seem disappointed, no, he seemed like he was having the time of his life figuring out my limits with his throbbing cock buried deep inside me, my legs folded, spread uncomfortably wide to accommodate the way he sat between them, keeping me in place, preventing me from wriggling out of his grasp.

I released a sigh as he let go of my nipple in order to spit in his hand, but it returned to pinching immediately, this time the added wetness causing a burning sensation on the very sore flesh there. His eyelids grew heavier along with his breathing as he watched my face twist in pain. I inhaled sharply as he applied further pressure, his length inside me periodically twitching, tensing, throbbing, letting me know how much he was getting off on this despite not actually fucking me yet.

“Let’s try again, shall we?”

My eyes widened as his grin turned sinister once more.

While he didn’t pinch and twist with as much strength as before, I still screamed. I tried to pull his hand off of me, I clawed and shoved at him, but nothing worked, he just laughed as I writhed on his cock from all my thrashing around. Yet I was intent on not using the safeword, or telling him to ease up. Instead I wanted to fight him in earnest, to push myself, to push him, to see where both our limits actually are.

It wasn’t until I dug my nails into his arm so deep that I might have drawn blood that he stopped pinching me, only to slap me across my face, my head snapping to the side from the impact. My hand instinctively reached for my burning cheek but he slapped that away too before grabbing my chin to yank me back into his vision.

I was expecting to see rage on him, but was instead met with glazed over, hungry eyes that looked like they were about to eat me alive as he was hovering over me again, close to my face.

His grip on me changed, shifted, taking hold of my hip as his other hand pushed behind my neck to hold my head still, keeping his intense eyes on mine as he started moving inside me.

So many parts of me were stinging and burning, making me feel high as a kite while the waves of pleasure rushed me with each pounding thrust.

My moans came heavy, louder than usual.

Suddenly he held me closer against him, rolling onto his back, leaving me to sit on top of him, straddling him. The hand on my neck lacing into my hair, pulling me in for a desperate kiss that nearly brought the tears back to my eyes, the fingers that had been digging into my hips caressed over the sore skin of my ass that he’d been working on while carrying me from the rooftop.

I flinched from the burning touch.

He pulled my head away from his lips to hold me at an awkward, uncomfortable angle. I looked down at the man inside me, below me, a confusing mix of anger and wonder emitting from him as he studied my features. His lips parted, panting, glistening from our kiss. Burning eyes and wild hair painting dark swirls on the light pillow underneath him.

The fiery eyes turned dark again right before more pain was inflicted on my ass. A loud slap echoed through the room, only filled with our laboured breathing a moment ago, now filled with my cries of pain as I fumbled to keep my weight on my arms so I wouldn’t just be held up by my hair.

The fingers on my behind dug into the soft, extremely sore skin there, clutching my cheek in order to move me on him. I felt an overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure that nearly made me give in; nearly made me tell him to ease up on me, or even consider saying the safeword. My whimpers telling the story of my emotions to perfection, I could barely distinguish myself whether the sounds spilling from my mouth were that of ecstasy or agony.

Meanwhile the lazy, sinister smile on Oli was conveying that this is exactly how he wanted me.

An even louder slap echoed all around us and I heard a strangled moan leave me.

“P-pink.” I whispered, stuttered, as he laughed at my suffering, digging his nails back into me, moving me on him faster as I struggled to keep my weight on my shaking arms. Wave upon wave of pleasure washed over me as the adrenaline from the pain filled me, the cock inside me was hitting all the right spots from this angle, my clit grinding on his pubic bone with each movement.

“I used to daydream about this, about torturing you,” His words came so deep he sounded demonic, “your flushed, tear stained cheeks.”

Another slap, a bit lighter this time, but I still produced a similar moan, the skin so sore I wasn’t sure I’d be able to sit tomorrow. Instantly more waves of pleasure came as the immediate pain subsided.

His words made me realise I could feel the warm liquid run down my face, I hadn’t noticed I’d started crying again. As with everything else, I couldn’t tell if it was from bliss or distress, or maybe simply from being overwhelmed, but I could feel my orgasm build, and build because of the same emotion that had caused it.

“You’re stunning like this.” Another slap, he let go of my hair this time, letting me fall forward onto him, onto his warm, ink covered chest, “My perfect whore.” He said into my hair as my moans came louder, faster, matching how he was moving me on him.

“Does it feel good, love?”

Slap.

I trembled, my moans and whimpers coming broken with my hitching breaths.

“Y–yes.” I answered once the majority of the stinging sensation settled.

I realised he was also shaking as he ground me down on him harder, in longer strokes.

Slap.

This time he groaned alongside my cries.

“Are you close?” From the way he asked it, I assumed he was close as well.

“Very.” I whimpered.

His fingers shoved back into my hair, pulling me back into his vision. His eyes glazed over, studying me with a pained expression, baring his teeth slightly as he started pumping me harder.

Slap.

Euphoria shifted his features as I cried out in pain, but as soon as the worst of it faded I felt myself melt against him, my climax so close I could taste it.

He must have seen it on me because his eyes widened with excitement, and right as my orgasm started he threw me off of him. I landed with a thud on the mattress next to him, disoriented and empty.

“No– wait, p-please–” I reached for my pussy to try and salvage what was left of my orgasm, so it wouldn’t be completely ruined, but he was already there, grabbing my wrist as his other hand held my chin.

For a moment I felt as if Oli was no longer here when I looked up at the man above me, as if he’d been replaced by some vicious animal intent on tearing me apart, the vision so shocking I abandoned any attempts to save my climax.

“On the floor.” He said with an eerie calmness, letting go of me entirely, “kneel.”

I instantly obeyed, my limbs feeling like jelly as I fumbled to get on my knees for him.

He shuffled, positioning himself to sit at the end of the bed, fingers shoving back into my hair as he worked his cock over my face.

“The only way you get to cum tonight, is if you say the safeword.” He watched me frown as he said it, feeling torn, wanting the cum. But I had made it this far without tapping out, enjoying his games, and I didn’t want to stop now, “Otherwise, I will make sure you don’t touch yourself until you fall asleep.” The corners of his panting mouth tugged as he implied that I’d sleep here.

An involuntary smile bloomed on my lips through my hazy state.

Which settled it, I wasn’t going to have an orgasm tonight.

“Pinch your nipple for me, love. Let me watch you suffer a bit more.” His words came ragged, clearly close to the edge.

I did as he requested, pinching significantly, much less than he had, suddenly scared of the pain when it was self inflicted.

“Harder.” He growled.

I don’t know if it was his aggression, the pain, or the ruined orgasm, but my core began throbbing deeply as I applied more pressure to my nipple, his eyes glazing over, his movements coming jerky as I whimpered.

“Open your mouth.” He breathed, the cum already spilling from his length as my lips parted for him.

He pushed my head down on him, the cum threatening to make me gag as he shot down my throat, releasing the pressure just in time to avoid it. With both his hands in my hair, holding me passionately as he moaned, the delectable liquid filling my mouth with each shot, his cock tensing in waves against my tongue, driving me wild.

When he was done he released me and I collapsed to the floor, swallowing his load.

The sound of both our heavy breaths filling the air. My gaze settled on him, his eyes towards the ceiling, his cock still bobbing as his head came back up, his hair shifting, falling over his face in order to look down on me with a relaxed grin.

He looked so happy, content.

Sadly it only lasted a moment, his features twisting to something more bitter as he watched me on the floor, as if he sobered up, remembering why we were doing this in the first place.

I watched him get up, walk over to his luggage in the corner and crouch down before it. I sat up, suddenly uncomfortable, the thick sexual tension having left the air much quicker than usual. The sound of a lighter could be heard as he stood back up, puffs of smoke surrounding him while he walked back to the bed, throwing himself onto the mattress. I could smell the familiar scent of cigarette smoke as he walked past me, having smoked for a long time and only quitting a couple of years ago.

“Come here, love.” His words were tender, loving.

I pushed myself up on my unsteady legs, my aching body struggling to stay upright.

Deciding to slip out of my mangled top and bra before getting into bed with him, I nearly lost balance, but I successfully completed my task and made it the to the bed where Oli proceeded to nestle me up against him, kissing the top of my head as I wrapped my arm around his chest.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t.” He responded casually, “Not anymore, just when I’m tense.”

He took another long drag and I watched the ember turn bright orange in his hand before he exhaled, releasing a cloud that was tinted blue with the rest of the room.

I reached out and took the cigarette off of him, inhaling deeply, also feeling rather tense.

“I won’t see Mat anymore.” I said after I handed the cigarette back to him.

He huffed out a breath, shaking his head, “No, I’m not doing that again, I’ve seen how that ends. Do whatever it is you need to do so you can be sure who you want.”

Realisation hit me like a ton of bricks.

I pushed myself up on my elbow to look at him.

“When you said your ex cheated with an old friend…”

“Was wondering if you’d ever piece that together,” He gave me a dejected smile, “Guess I made it a bit obvious just now though, didn’t I?”

I stared at him, confused, wondering why he remained such close friends with Mat after what happened, after his ex had cheated with him.

My forehead knotted into a frown as I searched for the words to ask for clarification, to learn more, but I didn’t know how to approach the delicate topic.

“Why are you still friends with him?”

Such a dumb question, phrased so poorly, so bluntly. I wish I could take it back, but my brain clearly didn’t work after the sex we just had.

It was his turn to frown.

“I mean– beyond the obvious, I know you’re in a band together–” I continued before he cut me off.

“Honestly Alice, it’s not that bloody simple is it?” He said with a sigh, moreso defeated sounding than annoyed. Taking one last drag off the cigarette, he reached over to the nightstand and dropped it into the glass of water resting there, putting the ember out with a hissing noise.

His head hit the pillow again with yet another sigh, sad eyes meeting mine.

“Her name was Fay.”

While I really wanted to hear this story, I didn’t want to contribute to more distress tonight, not after we already had sex – not after we’d already done the thing that should help ease our suffering.

“Oli, you don’t have to–”

“Would you rather not know?” A genuine question, asked calmly, seriously.

“I, I do, a lot actually, but–”

“Then let me tell you.” There was a pained confusion on his features as he spoke the gentle words, pleading to let him vocalise his thoughts to me.

My frown melted away.

“Okay.” I answered softly.

“Her name was Fay.” He started his story again, “She was a good friend of Mat for years. I always enjoyed her company – very wild spirited, would always get us into trouble – but I was never close with her… Well, not until Mat started dating her, and suddenly she was always around.” He laughed nervously, his eyes roaming towards the ceiling as he continued speaking, “I felt like a piece of shit, I would stay up late with her a lot of nights, just chatting each other's ears off, I didn’t even realise I was falling for her until it was too late.”

His arm around me held me closer, caressing me lovingly as he was lost in telling his story.

“It wasn’t unusual though, we’d fallen for each other's girls so many times over the years we pretty much had a protocol for it. As soon as I realised, I told Mat, and we both knew it just meant I should stop hanging out with her alone. Which I did.”

He sighed deeply, “Problem is, Fay does whatever the fuck she wants. She sussed out pretty quickly that I had feelings for her, confronted me, told me she felt the same, told me she’d planned to break up with Mat because of it.”

Glowing eyes shot back to mine, “Not a nice feeling that, so fucking torn between being happy that she felt the same for me, but knowing I can’t allow myself to be with her – also knowing that I’m the only reason they’re breaking up. It’s just a shit show.”

Shaking his head his gaze returned to the ceiling, “Next day Mat told me they broke up, and to my surprise he practically begged me to date her, telling me that we both deserved to be happy, that he’ll get over it, that I was always the better match for Fay anyway. I thought it was nonsense, the proclamations of a heartbroken man, feeling down on himself. I didn’t even consider it until months later when Mat had managed to mend his friendship with her, and everything seemed alright with him again. Then it suddenly got too tempting. In hindsight I should never have acted on it, but we ended up dating for almost a year… I was gonna ask her to marry me. It wasn’t until right before it all blew up that Mat came to me, telling me he fucked up, confessing the feelings for her had resurfaced, telling me she’d been flirting with him too. The jealous twat I am, I instantly confronted Fay; she didn’t deny it, she told me she felt blessed for not only having one soulmate, but two… My heart just shattered.”

Oli’s arm around me had tensed up, the gentle caresses having come to a stop.

Vulnerable eyes flickered to mine before he continued, speaking more thoughtfully.

“She stayed with Mat that night, was at a shared accommodation, I actually caught her leaving his room in the early hours of the morning. I’d stayed outside all night, couldn’t be in the same room as her, not after what she told me – I needed some time. I just sat staring at the beach for hours while they fucked I guess.”

My heart ached for him, leaving me intent on not seeing Mat anymore. Leaving a bad taste in my mouth when it came to Mat in general. I couldn’t believe he would sleep with someone his best friend had been dating for so long, and was so committed to, especially so quickly, regardless of their history.

“This is when I learned what a liar Fay was. She’d told Mat that we’d broken up already, that she felt nothing for me, that she regretted leaving him, and so on.”

“But how could he sleep with her without even talking to you first?”

He gave me a guilty smile, “So, there may have been one small detail I left out.”

I squinted at him, “Go on.”

“I may have slept with his ex too.” My eyes widened in surprise as the guilt on his face intensified, “A couple of them actually.”

I felt my features twist into disbelief, “What?”

“To be fair, he’s slept with a fair few of mine as well.”

I was stunned, confused about their entire friendship.

“We’re both lovesick fools who can’t seem to resist the same women a lot of the time, and while most of it was in our teens and early twenties, it’s happened in more recent years too, just very rarely. We made a point of steering clear of it, to prevent more heartache for both of us.”

“Again, why are you two still friends?” I asked, shaking my head, my original, blunt question, suddenly seeming perfectly appropriate.

He let out a long breath, “He’s my best mate, it just always felt like we didn’t want any birds to get between that, despite this shit happening repeatedly. And to be honest with you, Fay was different for many reasons. I’d never felt quite like that for anyone before her. For better and for worse. She had a way of making you get completely lost in the moment when you were with her, you’d buy whatever lies she sold you. So I can’t even blame Mat, if he’s anything like me – which when it comes to these types of things he sure seems to be – I get why he couldn’t turn her down.”

While not being able to relate to his situation at all, a level of understanding began to surface as he explained.

“I’d never seen him so destroyed afterwards though, I think he’d done anything to set it right. He actually had me move in with him for a while, when I relapsed, to look after me. I’ve cried in the arms of that man more than I care to admit.”

Silence fell for a moment as he stared off into space. My hand began mindlessly trailing his chest which seemed to have pulled him out of whatever thought he was preoccupied with, as he inhaled and began caressing my back again.

“Neither of us talked to Fay ever again, haven’t even said her name in each other's company.”

Thoughtful eyes met mine, the moonlight extenuating his features from this angle, highlighting all the contrast the man next to me has to offer; the sweet and gentle eyes, so easy to get lost in, set in a face filled with strong edges, high cheekbones and inkwork, yet framed by wild locks of hair that should make him look messy, rough, but only added a playful charm to him.

I hadn’t realised how intensely I’d been staring at him until he continued speaking.

“Mat’s a good man, we’ve just got a bit of an odd situation between us. If he knew I had feelings for you, I know he’d take a step back, ignore you like the plague probably after everything with Fay.”

He reached out to touch my face, stroking it tenderly before lacing his fingers into my hair, his thumb brushing my cheek with the same softness. His touch was so sweet, treating me as if I was precious in his hands, another stark contrast from earlier. I felt myself melt into his palm, craving his affection, which seemed to happen like clockwork after we had rougher sex.

“Makes things a bit tricky for me, cause I do have feelings for you.” The words were spoken under his breath, softly, lovingly.

I swallowed, reminded of the high stakes of the situation.

“But if you end up with me I can’t be worrying about you and Mat, I can’t do that again. Which is why I just want you to get whatever you need out of your system when it comes to Mat. You’re clearly interested in him. If it’s him you’d rather be with, I don’t want to start anything proper with you.”

While I couldn’t deny that I was drawn to Mat in a multitude of ways, I already knew how I felt about the man next to me.

“That’s fair, but I already have feelings for you.”

He sucked on his teeth for a second, “So did Fay.”

“I’m not Fay.” I returned quickly.

The smile he gave me was sombre, “No, you’re not, in almost all ways you’re her polar opposite actually – except for the fact that it’s incredibly easy to get lost in the moment with you.”

Understanding the implication of his statement, I was momentarily upset by the fact that he was suggesting I’d be the type of person who cheats, but considering Oli’s history, I quickly pushed that thought aside, knowing his reasons for feeling that way had nothing to do with me.

“So you want me to… explore things with Mat?”

The tension that washed over Oli at my question was almost tangible, “For the sanity and wellbeing of all three of us, I don’t want to know what you two get up to – but please, Alice, if you decide you’re ready to become mine, then be mine.”

It was impossible to do anything but agree with Oli whenever he gave me those pleading eyes.

“Okay.” I whispered before looking away, feeling silly for asking my next question, “Can I still spend the night?”

The tension deflated from him, “Please do.”

Laying my head back on his shoulder, he immediately, eagerly, nestled me back into him, like he craved the intimacy from it just as much as I did. My limbs tangled with his, his warm and loving embrace giving me more comfort than anything I could imagine, making me feel foolish for even contemplating anything with Mat.

But considering the circumstances, it might be even more foolish of me to disregard him entirely, leaving a door open for the future.

Leaving me to wonder what could have been.

“You were incredible tonight.” He whispered into my hair before pressing his cheek to the top of my head.

Warmth spread in my chest, my lips curving into a smile, “Yeah?” “Yeah. I love the way you fought me, you’re stronger than you look.”

I huffed out a small laugh, “Oh please, I couldn’t budge you.”

“You weren’t that far off you know, and my arm’s gonna be stinging for a while.”

Knowing I was more than likely quite far off, I still enjoyed how he indulged me.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to sit tomorrow.” I retorted teasingly.

I felt his features shift against my head, and from the way he spoke I could tell he was also smiling, “You love it though, don’t you?”

“Very much.”

A comfortable silence fell as I listened to his heartbeat, his steady breathing tickling my forehead. My mind wandered back to the rooftop, regret filling me, wishing I could have just enjoyed the date with him like a normal person.

“I’m sorry for ruining our date, the rooftop… No one’s ever done anything so romantic for me.”

“Not to try and bribe you or anything, but we could have a lot of nights like that, love.”

Half of me wanted that future so badly it ached, yet the other half was sounding the alarm bells, ready to run for the hills at the idea of being in another committed relationship. I knew it was an irrational fear, but I still couldn’t seem to shake the panic that came with thoughts of a future with someone.

Probably because someone very important failed to commit to me.

“You know, I also used to love watching the stars.”

His roaming hand stilled on my arm, “Used to?”

“Yeah. Of course it looked nothing like this,” I said as I gazed out the window, at the starlit night, “I was lucky if I could see a handful of them even when it was clear. But my dad and I would often lay on the grass in our back garden on a late evening, before I lost him.”

“I’m sorry, Alice. How old were you when he died?”

“Oh, he’s not dead. He just moved.”

“Oh.” He responded, clearly confused.

“He went to start a new family on the other side of the country when I was ten. It was like he never had me. I didn’t even get a card on my next birthday. Mum said he’d sent one, that it would be in the post any day now, but it never came. So, I haven’t talked to him since I was 14, partly because I decided I couldn’t stand being progressively forgotten anymore.”

“Fucking hell, what a prick.”

His sudden blunt words caused me to break out into laughter.

He joined with an awkward chuckle, “I’m sorry, but that’s awful though. Can I ask something?”

Slight unease crept in, already feeling vulnerable from sharing such a sore part of my past, but I wanted to push myself, to open up to him like he’d opened up for me.

“Sure.”

“Is that where the commitment issues come from?”

“I think so.” My words came softly, “I’ve only ever been in one long term relationship.”

There was a pause before he spoke, making me wonder what he was thinking, what conclusions he was coming to about me, “I see, and you said you didn’t even like him – so what made him special enough to be the only one?”

I felt myself fighting the urge to squirm, “I guess the fact that he wasn’t special at all.”

“Ah,” He started, before echoing my words that he practically forced out of me earlier in the week, “Because you’re scared of having something worth losing.”

Bingo.

“Yeah, which is why everything was so simple with him.”

Another silence fell before he spoke softly, “Am I special to you?”

I tried to push the words out, but it took me a while. I could feel him tensing beneath me, his heart rate speeding up.

“You are.” I whispered after a long moment.

More time passed, both of us clearly raking things over in our mind.

“I can’t decide if that’s wonderful or horrible.” He finally responded.

“Me neither.”

... Subscribe to the story on Ao3 for future updates

#oli sykes fan fiction #oli sykes x reader #oli sykes smut #oli sykes #bring me the horizon #mat nicholls #smut #you got a taste now #And so the plot thickens

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84reedsy · 6 months

Text

The Mentorship, Part 10

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , Scott Hall/FemOC

Part 10 of ? (Parts not chapters, parts length varies)

Word Count: 4069

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part8 Part 9

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing

There were a number of questions vollied at them when they showed up at the arena. Kevin grilled Scott, and if Brinkley wasn't mistaken, seemed like he had been up with worry all night. He glared at Brinkley from afar multiple times. She took the hint to avoid him. She still wasn't happy with what he'd pulled, but she was much less upset than before.

She had to assume that Scott had fucked a lot of the frustration right out of her.

She wondered if Kevin could perhaps sniff out what was going on or what had happened last night. Maybe he felt as if she was moving in on Scott and he didn't want to share his best friend.

“BRINK,” Curt snapped his fingers in her face.

She jolted and pulled herself out of her own thoughts.

“What??” She responded, irritated at being interrupted.

“Get your ass moving, we're up next,” he motioned for her to move quicker, “get out of la-la-land,” he snapped at her with his hand towel.

“Geez, alright alright!” She snipped, rubbing the stinging flesh on her thigh before she went back to lacing up her boots. She was relieved when Page agreed to let her interfere more physically. It was only a house show, but it was still important to her.

Page was still the face, but Brinkley heard more cheers than normal as she and Curt entered. They still had plenty of opposing fans to ridicule down the walkway.

“You're about to turn,” Curt said into her ear while they walked to the ring, “I can tell,”

Brinkley wasn't sure what to think. She'd always been the villain, it had been an escape for the idyllic, sheltered existence she'd left behind her. She hadn't expected this response.

“But I don't wanna,” she pouted, playing into her whiny role. Curt cupped her face as they stood by the ring apron.

“You'll be alright, baby girl, just let me handle it,” he assured her with a wink.

She didn't know if his response was kayfabe or real. She'd have to find out after the match. For now she was focused on having to sell a Diamond Cutter finishing move.

She interfered and because of that was “accidentally” given the move. As she lay on the mat, she heard the crowd murmur and then boo Page. Curt suplexed him for the win.

He checked on her to make sure she was really alright, then pulled her out of the ring. She pretended to come-to enough to walk with his assistance.

“You're welcome,” Page said, coming in from the ring.

“For what?” She asked, “I'm the one that made you look good,” she stuck her tongue out playfully.

“I'm the one that put you over,” he looked at her and Curt knowingly.

“But I -” she started, but was shut down by Curt.

“We are going to have to workshop her character,” Curt said, knowing Page was involved with Creative, “She needs to start working matches during house shows.”

Brinkley didn't argue with others around. She knew how disrespectful it would come across to second-guess Curt in front of everyone. She knew things had to be done a certain way. That was a ‘day one’ thing Curt had taught her.

She waited until they were in the car before she spoke up.

“But am I really ready to be a face?” She questioned, definitely not confident in the idea yet.

“I think it's a good time for you to try,” he said with all the confidence.

“Scott,” she whined, hoping he'd side with her.

“Hey, I'm for it,” he looked back at her somewhat apologetic, “Me and Kev are gonna bring you in with us. I can't complain.”

“What?!” She looked between them both several times, “when was this discussed?”

“Doll, your first day here,” Scott said, remembering back to her shy introduction, “I called dibs on you,”

Brinkley wanted to be upset, but thinking about Scott wanting to have her from day one gave her a smug satisfaction.

“Are you staying with Kev tonight?” She asked, ignoring the awkward feeling of Curt hearing everything.

“Probably…” Scott said, feeling a heavy disappointment.

“Jesus, for fuck's sake,” Curt rolled his eyes, “I'll go to the bar and you two have the room for a few hours. Just don't break any of the furniture.” He warned.

Scott looked back at her with a wicked smirk.

“No promises. Right, Brink?”

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Curt sat at a table, empty whiskey glasses in front of him. He was relieved that Brinkley was interested in Scott. However, she’d become such a part of his everyday, that he wondered what separation would look like. He couldn’t stop thinking about what may be going on in the hotel room he was paying for.

He didn’t know what irritated him more, the fact that he was thinking about that, or Kevin’s indirect line of questioning. He seemed to fare similarly when his right-hand person was M.I.A.

“So, what you’re saying is we’re going to end up with her, but you are still gonna be her trainer?” Kevin asked, pondering the idea. At this point, he was a significant voice on the creative team. If he was on board, it wouldn’t likely be necessary to convince anyone else.

“Yeah, pretty much, she might need to transition to another trainer at some point like we all did, but probably not just yet. Kowalski did a good job with Chyna, but she’d have to take some time off,” Curt mused aloud.

“Then she’d be off TV again for a while. If she’s getting momentum, can’t do that,” Kevin took a swig looking back at the door as if expecting Scott to come waltzing through at any moment, “Maybe I’ll train her,”

Curt laughed.

“Pretty sure you’re just wanting an excuse to throw her around,” though he was amused by the suggestion, he absolutely did not think Kevin and Brinkley could coexist in that way.

“You’re right, I don’t need her brand of headache anyway,” He shrugged off his own suggestion, “Scott could,”

Curt had honestly considered it before. He separated their positions - Curt had trained her first and the physical affection came later. Scott’s interaction with her started that way. He didn’t think there was much of a chance of Scott successfully training her at anything except being his fuck buddy. He did feel a surge of aggression when he wondered if she would call Scott ‘daddy’.

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Brinkley tried to act completely collected as Curt readied and left for the bar. As soon as the door closed, she scrambled off the bed and to the bathroom, dolling herself up just a little. She dug through her bag, frustrated at the lack of sexy, showy options. She didn’t want to lug around an entire wardrobe, but she would need to figure out something better than this, especially if she wanted to make an impression.

A set of quick raps on the door made her forget that problem. She opened it and Scott stood on the other side of it, his arm leaning on the doorway.

“Evening,” His slight smile and downward gaze gave away his intentions immediately. She felt stupid for giggling, but the noise rose out of her unintentionally.

“How nice of you to drop by,” She stepped aside, inviting him in, “Can I get you anything,” She sarcastically offered in her best hostess impression.

“Yeah, your pussy full of my tongue,” He shut the door behind him and quickly yanked his shirt off. He knew they’d have a few hours, but he intended to fill them as much as would her.

Brinkley liked his direct method. It left no guessing about what he wanted. She felt small and helpless as he stalked towards her and she liked it. She backed up until the back of her knees hit the bed, letting gravity sit her on the edge of it. Before she could scoot back any farther, he grabbed ahold of one of her ankles and yanked on the legs of her pants, slipping them from her easily. She bit her lip as he still approached her, crawling across the bed now.

When her back hit the headboard, he closed in on her. His fingers gripped around the lacy hem of her panties and yanked them down, effectively ripping the side seam out. She gasped, the proof of his brute strength made her sex throb.

Her knees were closed, but his hand slid between them, allowing him to crawl between her slowly opening legs. She had a small twinge of uncertainty at someone new in such an intimate space, but the moment his tongue darted across her sensitive clit, her eyes fluttered closed and she forgot any inhibition that previously existed.

Scott hummed against the sweet taste of her juices that painted his tongue as he licked a trail up and down her slit. He moved slowly, savoring her and listening to the sounds it elicited from her. He wanted her to enjoy this; he wanted her craving him. He wanted her to be desperate for more.

Brinkley could barely handle leaving her eyes open to see Scott’s head slowly bobbing between her thighs. She could feel his rough stubble against her pussy lips and it felt even better than she’d imagined. As his tongue slowly circled her clit, she felt the tingles building, rolling her hips ever so slightly. His tongue slipped down though, teasing the edge of her aching entrance, building a different kind of tingle. She felt herself drawing close again only for him to switch his focus.

Scott laughed to himself as she squirmed more and more underneath him. She was fun to tease. She didn’t seem to know he was doing so on purpose yet, making her longing whimpers like music to his ears. He suckled her clit now, letting two fingers slip into her needy cunt. She nearly melted into the mattress as he massaged her g-spot and wiggled his tongue across her pulsing clit.

“Scott, god pleeeease,” She looked down at him, her thighs quivering, her body flushed with want.

“Please what?” He looked up at her with a dark stare, his lips damp from her juices, his fingers working deeper inside of her. His feral look nearly made her cum, her sex clenching around his fingers.

“Please let me cum,” She pleaded, enjoying the idea that he was in control of her. He seemed to appreciate her approach.

“Please let you cum, what,” He slowed his fingers, not letting her move quickly against them.

Brinkley was stuck in his gaze, her eyes searching his. She had an idea of what he wanted her to say. After all he had been witness to her calling Curt that very thing. But for some reason, she was unsure.

Scott could see the uncertainty on her face immediately and silently cursed himself for trying to work that wordplay in so early. He assumed that it took a while for Curt and her to develop that level. He began to retract, but she spoke first.

“Please let me cum, sir,” She bit her lip and looked at him as innocently as she could.

Scott took the consolation without hesitation. He pumped his fingers quicker, slipping a third in. He pressed the muscled flat of his tongue against her nub and rubbed it roughly in time with his fingers, feeling and tasting her orgasm as she pressed herself more firmly against his face.

Brinkley’s breath stalled as her voice caught in her throat. Her head thunked against the headboard as the pressure in her sex released a burning crescendo of pleasure. She gasped for breath between the quaking tremors, feeling lightheaded by the force of her orgasm.

“Gonna have to call housekeeping for some new sheets,” His gruff voice spoke gently, still letting his fingers stroke her shuddering insides softly.

Brinkley looked down to see a damp spot soaking the blanket below her and her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

“That’s so hot, baby girl,” He crooned, as if knowing she was unsure, “Never done that before?”

She shook her head, feeling better with Scott’s praise.

“Maybe we’ll make this Curt’s bed,” She joked, her voice still trembling a little.

“Naughty girl, I like the way you think,” Scott lifted himself up, kissing her panting mouth, letting her taste her own juices from his lips and tongue.He remembered her fervent reaction with anything on her neck and let his lips slide there next. She did not disappoint him, arching up against him as he bit and pulled the skin lightly, “Let’s see how wet you can really get it,”

Scott plunged his fingers back in as he resisted really biting her and leaving tell tale marks that would likely draw a lot of attention. She inhaled sharply, not ready for the onslaught of his controlled but fierce ministrations. She felt tingling in her core again as she clamped down on his fingers, crying out wordlessly as she came again.

He slid his soaked fingers from her assaulted cunt and spread the wetness up and down her slit. He looked up at her as he did, that same intense stare making her feel like she was about to be the victim of a very brutal assault.

“Good girl,” He praised and she was sure those words alone might have soaked the bed more. She saw him fumbling with that belt again. She wondered why he even bothered putting it on. His dick was big enough to hold his pants up anyway. Her eyes fluttered closed as he leaned down and pulled the tip of her nipple with his teeth, letting it pop back just before she would have asked him to stop. The prickling pain morphed quickly into a smoldering pleasure. He did it again, letting go just as she whimpered, working the hardening bud into an aching peak.

“If I ever hurt you…tell me,” He kissed the valley between her breasts as he made his way to the other, “I only want you to feel good with me,” His rasp inflamed and chilled her at the same time. She couldn’t help but shiver, arching again as he drew the other nipple between his teeth.

“I will,” She nearly hissed just as he let go again. He leered at her with an expectant look as he paused, “I mean….yes, sir,” She said with a sheepish grin.

“That’s better,” His tongue bathed the tip of her tit now, a welcome softness to his earlier enjoyable torture, “Don’t let it happen again,” He growled as he nipped again.

She could hear the belt loose now, hanging from his jeans as his zipper descended. She felt a rush of excitement as he rolled to his back and kicked his jeans to the floor. There was more light now, and more opportunity to really take in the sight of him. To her she couldn’t imagine more of an ideal specimen of masculinity.

She didn't realize she licked her lips as her eyes took in the entirety of him. She crawled over to him, kissing his shoulder down to his chest, nipping at his nipple in a similar, teasing fashion. She smirked as he hissed in return, but still watched her, one hand toying with his hardening member.

She took her time kissing down his torso, her tongue savoring the taste of his skin. She bit his hipbone lightly before she made a trail to his swelling shaft.

“Look how hard you make me,” he built her up more, “so damn hard, baby,”

He held his cock for her, letting her tease the pulsing tip with her lips. He bucked up his hips as soon as she took the tiniest bit of him in, filling her mouth quickly. She took the hint, letting her lips slide farther down on each pass. His cock stretched her lips and made taking him deeper challenging. But she was always up for a challenge.

She used his groans and praises to mark her actions, repeating what garnered the most of both. She looked up at him as she did so, hoping she was sucking his cock well, but also looking good while doing it.

“Jesus, you look so hot with my dick in your pretty mouth,” he grumbled, his teeth on edge. His hand slid over the top of her head and encouraged her to move faster and slip him deeper. She resisted choking when his glans would probe her throat, gasping for breath when he pulled his cock from her mouth and slapped it against her lips.

“I need that fucking pussy now,” he demanded, his words cracking an invisible whip, “on your knees, girl,”

Brinkley felt her subservient obedience kick in like a natural response as she turned on all fours.

“Yes, sir,”

She watched him over her shoulder, biting her lip as he knelt behind her. She heard him fumbling with something, hearing a paper-like tearing sound.

“Need to be more careful than last time,” he slipped the condom over himself, running his hands over the curve of her taut ass appreciatively, “gonna be hard enough not to just fuck you all the time,” he laid a sharp smack on one cheek. She jumped and whimpered but waited for another.

Scott admired the temporary outline of his handprint, evening up on the other cheek. He ran his tip through her slit and pressed against her entrance. Though she was as wet as could be, he still struggled against the tightening confines of her sex.

He had to wonder if Curt hadn't really fucked her very much. She was shaking as he sank in, her face falling to the bed, keeping her perky ass perched in the air.

He let her acclimate as he sheathed himself fully into her. He ran a hand slowly up her back and back down, calming her reserve. He didn't shame her, that was far too harsh.

He grabbed her hips as he started to move in her, slowly at first but with ever-increasing force.

She yelped into the bed each time he bottomed out, feeling a new pleasure center being struck. She had to keep herself from trying to crawl away. She felt as if she was seeing stars every time he thrusted in her. She felt lightheaded as he smacked her ass again.

“Baby, you have no idea how good this looks,” Scott said, almost horsley, as he looked at her pussy, swallowing his cock with each thrust, “taking it like my good girl,” he felt her spasm around his member and grinned.

Brinkley rolled her eyes back as she came again, shockwaves emanating from her core outward. She had the blanket balled up in her fists, breathing through clenched teeth. She gasped when she felt his hand sliding along her scalp and grabbed her hair, pulling her head back.

She felt immobilized by his control, absorbing every intense thrust whether she could handle them or not. She barely managed to open her eyes, met with a mirror reflection across the room of herself with Scott behind her, a pleasured, determined look on his face.

She felt odd watching herself being fucked, but had to admit, she looked good being fucked by Scott. Especially the way he was manhandling her.

“You gonna swallow my cum, baby girl?” He asked with a deep gruffness.

Her response paused, another thing she'd never done, but curiosity flooded her as much as her desire to give him what he wanted. She tried to nod, but was still held captive by his hand on her hair.

“Yes. Yes, sir,” she managed as he thrusted in her quickly.

“Get over here,” he growled, regretfully pulling out of her and ripping off the condom. He stood at the side of the bed as she turned around quickly, still dizzied by the ferocity of his prowess. She lay on her stomach, looking up at him with her mouth open as he quickly stroked his cock.

“Tongue out,” he demanded, holding himself directly over her waiting mouth. As she slipped it out, he felt his balls tighten and his cum shot from the tip, his seed collecting on her tongue and lips.

She sucked his spunk down, swallowing it just in time to receive another generous spurt. She couldn't quite place the taste of it, but didn't let it linger too long before swallowing.

Scott watched with smug gratification at how eagerly she lapped up his cum. And the way she looked at him the entire time he found incredibly hot. He let her suck the last drops from the tip, shuddering as he became hypersensitive to every touch.

She let his cock fall from her mouth and pulled herself up to her knees.

“Was it good?” She asked with a modest concern.

“Are you fucking serious?” Scott stood directly in front of her, out of breath, his forehead dotted with sweat, his body flushed from his sexual exertion, “Look at me, I'm a damn mess,” he let out a raspy laugh, “Good doesn't begin to describe it,”

She looked proud, but insecure that she even had to ask.

“Sorry …I just…I'd never done it that way,” her cheeks burned as she sat back against her heels.

“Don't ever apologize,” his hand caught her chin from looking down, “not when you're that stellar of a fuck,”

She wasn't sure how to take the compliment, but had to grin at his earnest expression.

“Well…” she reached out to him, her hand slowly massaging his balls, “it is still pretty early….”

“Fucking christ, girl,” he groaned, but did not pull away.

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Curt stumbled into the dark room half expecting to still see Scott here defiling Brinkley, but the room was quiet and still. He felt relieved, kicking his shoes off to the side.

“Brinkley?” He called out in the dark with no answer. He could see her in bed, snuggled under the covers asleep. She was alone, not that he’d expected Scott to stay the entire night. Part of him hoped she’d still be awake, wanting to tell him about everything she’d done that night and the selfish part of him had hoped she’d share that she was still somewhat unfulfilled and needed him to finish the job.

Clearly that wasn’t the case.

He sighed, but stripped down to his underwear and flopped into bed.

“What the fuck??” He exclaimed as a cold dampness lay under him. Turning on the light and lifting up the blanket, he could see the wet spot spread to the sheets, “Are you fucking kidding me…” It was obvious to him that she indeed had a pleasurable evening. He turned the light back off and he slipped into Brinkley’s bed instead. He had to appreciate the rib, but he couldn’t help but be a little ticked off at the same time. But she was the one that now had to share her bed; the more he thought about it, he’d hoped she’d share a little more.

She moaned and turned over toward him as he laid down. It was easy to see that she was naked as he’d climbed in, with his buzz, he could definitely use some female company. He slid closer to her, pulling his cock out at the same time.

He took her hand and placed it on his shaft, rousing her a little.

“Scott?” She mumbled, struggling to open her eyes, “Oh, Curt…what are you doing?” Still lethargic from sleep, she struggled to come to.

“Daddy needs some help,” He moved her hand up and down his shaft, “If you think you can handle it.”

“I don’t know, Daddy, I’m…I’m kinda sore,” she whined a little in her sleepy voice, “Or I would,” She woke a little more now, moving her hand on her own, “And tired…can we wait until tomorrow? Unless this is all you want…”

Curt felt foolish and irritated, but couldn’t very well blame her for being honest.

“Of course we can,” He sighed, but hummed when she didn’t pull her hand back right away. Even if he didn’t cum, her touch felt nice.

“Thank you, Daddy,” She mewled, snuggling up against his chest. She’d wished Scott could stay so she could sleep against him. It was such a nice way to wake up. But Curt was also an incredibly nice body to curl up against.

#wrestling fan fic #wrestling fic #wrestling fanfiction #curt hennig #wcw #wwe #wrestling #fanfiction #pro wrestling #1999 #Scott hall #kevin nash #The Mentorship #wrestling smut #cameos by a lot of wrestlers

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the-orange-tabby-cat · 1 year

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GIF by sweeetestcurse

Wings Of The Dawn | Chapter 6

Joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: You are Jackson's librarian, a doll with a good heart, that has your life changed when a handsome man decides to take his kid and start again in your small town after completing their cross country journey. Having a hard time ignoring Joel's dark brown eyes, you find yourself wishing to have him close as you both navigate through love triangles, teenage drama, city gossip, and ghosts from both of your pasts. This is a comfort fic filled with slow burn and small town dynamics. Chapter summary: Joel confront his troubled past as he visits you.

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Rating: 18+ (light smut in this chapter)

Warnings/Tags: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, Age Difference, Small Town Dynamics, No use of y/n

Chapter Word count: 5,4k

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CHAPTER 6

Life path is designed through choices. We can choose ourselves: where to travel next summer or what flavor of pie to bake. Sometimes, unfortunately, others can choose for us like when you have to stay in the city during summer because there was heavy traffic on the way to the airport or having to eat meatloaf instead of pie because your roommate forgot to buy sugar.

It's all about choices. There are those we can have a final word on it, what newspaper to read, for example. When we talk about heart, we choose, but most of the time we have no idea of why we did it in the first place. Alfie, however, knew why he chose to love you.

He had been living in Jackson for a little over two years, his English was getting more natural now that Cata had interaction with kids her age. The town had almost 200 citizens, but a big part of them pretended that he didn’t exist.

The root of it was simple: Alfonso wasn't one of them. Nobody had openly treated him badly or said what was that made them avoid him, but he could see in their faces whenever he misspoke an English word. He was fine with it if it meant that Cata could have a normal life after so much time craving it.

It was afternoon when the city gate opened to reveal two men and a young woman. Maria was speaking to the three explaining the next steps of their residency at Jackson. The two ex-fireflies, Eugene and Tommy, would follow her to meet some of the patrollers, while you were a little out of place at the main street.

"I will wait for you here," you said to Eugene. Walking nearby, Alfonso noted how tired and scared you seemed to be.

“Aw, aren’t ya a doll? We might take longer than you expect. Take a tour, Dolly.” Eugene shouted as he followed Maria and Tommy.

A doll. Alfonso could see how you wanted to bark something back at the old man but controlled your tongue before doing anything. Even with dark circles under the eyes, dirty matted hair, and stained clothing, you still had tenderness in you.

He recognized the softness in your gaze. You seemed to have been through hell and back, but haven’t lost hope. Trying to keep the hope in you, he decided to help.

“Hi, I’ve hearded the conversation. Sorry. I can help you with a tour, if you want to.” He said without thinking too much, a strange man approaching you out of nowhere? Not a good start.

"Hum, hi. She told us that there is a place where we could eat before a communal dinner…?" He knew what you meant, the desperation behind your words.

He tried to maintain a distance from you as you strolled by his side on the sidewalk, you were listening carefully to a broken English explanation of the town structure. You looked directly into his eyes, even laughed when he made a joke. After so long sitting in the shadows, he was seen and heard.

As you entered the Tipsy Bison to order a sandwich, you put a hand on his forearm before he left the bar entrance.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” you smiled and introduced yourself.

“I’m Alfonso, a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine. Thank you for the tour, Alfie.” As you entered the bar, he chose that he would stay close to you, he ached to be seen by you in his wholeness.

You chose to not reciprocate the feeling. Two years later, he was inside your house, you were wearing that dress that ended at the middle of your thighs, the one he had seen only once and dreamed of sliding it out of your body. It was supposed to be his time with you, but you were obviously waiting for another man.

The softness of your gaze was still there, but so far from the woman he met at the gate that day.

“Tell me everything you know about Maria’s plan. Please,” you tried while sitting in front of him in a chair. Alfie took the sofa, keeping a distance from you.

"She came to my house a week or so ago asking for help with her last council meeting before Esther showed up." The orange tabby cat nested in his lap, at least someone was happy to see him there. "The election will happen in two weeks, she wants to move Nath’s place to Esther. Asked me to vote for her in her proposals.”

“Just that? A vote?” You asked frowning your brows. Alfie shook his head.

"No, Dolly. It isn't about voting or not for her proposals, is what they will propose. They want to close the bar permanently and have no more local alcohol being produced here in the city."

You got serious for a second and then laughed. A smile wanted to form on his lips, but he avoided staying on the same tone as before. You saw him as a joke instead of a friend, someone who cared for you.

"Alfie, no offense, but it is impossible. Most people here drink her beverage or use the Bison as their hang out place. There is no way they'll be able to do it." Getting on your feet, you had a smile of relief on your face.

"Maria knows Nath has some kind of scheme. She caught underground drinks with some kids and will use it against her, trying to say that Nath is using minors in her operation. We might be inside the town's walls, but everyone is still a little paranoid about safety. She'll prove that Nath is using the kids regardless of the town's rules."

That took your attention. Opening your mouth, Alfie saw your eyes scan the surroundings as you tried to find an argument that could contradict what he had just said. Finding none, you limited yourself.

"Shit. Has she mentioned the kids' names?"

“No, but she thinks I’m on her side. I’m not, I’m at yours.” You avoided his eyes for a moment just to look back at him with the tenderness he knew.

“Thank you, Alfie. Will they propose it already at the next meeting?” Sitting again in your chair, you were chewing your bottom lip in a rushed manner.

“Not yet, but they will start to create alliances with Chad and Edwin as well. I came here so you could be prepared.”

A smile appeared on your lips and Alfie couldn't hold back his grin. Your eyes were looking at his with kindness, no more the avoidant stare that you gave him since Joel entered your life. He wished to keep you like this, before having your feet swiped by that man.

“I know I’ve been acting a little weird with you, I’m sorry. I’m still true to my words: I’ll be here if you want me or not, Dolly. We’re friends, I would never hurt you.”

Alfie’s words hadn’t a hint of malice behind them. You felt guilty for having chosen to ignore his honesty with you by not giving him a heads up about Joel, he had said to you that he wanted you to think about him not to treat it as if he was an asshole. Even the orange tabby cat was purring happily at his lap, why should you run away from him?

"Thank you, Alfie. I'm sorry for the last days as well." Placing your hand on his shoulder, his green eyes flashed at you with the usual light. Oh boy, you were in trouble. "See you at the council meeting, okay?"

Walking him to the door, Alfie said his goodbye with an unexpected hug. Not feeling any resentment towards him, you hugged back for a second before closing the door. The orange tabby cat was sitting at the tapestry with his tail tip wiggling back and forth, his yellow eyes slowly blinking at you.

“What? I can have friends other than Nath.” With raised eyebrows, you spoke to the cat.

"Meow," as a cat, he couldn't give much of another response.

"Shut up. I can be friends with him. And I hope to see you on Joel's lap too, you don't fool me."

With your finger pointed to the cat, you took a deep breath and plopped on the sofa. The orange tabby cat yawned at your threat, unbothered. You went back to wait for Joel and his dark eyes, wishing for the warmth of his embrace to empty your mind.

Could it be considered a date when you would show up at his house from time to time and he spent most of his free time at your library? Joel hadn't had a date in so long that he forgot the unspoken rules of it. You invited him to listen to music at your house, not for dinner or a night out. Maybe he was seeing too much in it.

He was dressed as always, just a nicer flannel shirt. He let his hair dry naturally, not putting too much effort – you had said you liked it before. The last thing Joel wanted was to make a fool of himself for trying too much.

“Woah,” Ellie exclaimed as she opened the door of her guest house. Joel raised his eyebrows at the kid.

“What?” He wanted to act natural, as if it was an ordinary thing not an actual worry inside his head. Did he try too hard?

“Nothing. You look so… Put together?” Maybe he did try too hard. “Is good, though.”

“I’ve worn this outfit before, I’m not more or less put together.” He grumpily mumbled, but Ellie wasn’t fully convinced, still looking smug about it. “I’m heading out, might take a few hours. If you need something cross the street to Tommy’s, okay?”

“Tell Dolly I said “hi”,” the kid smiled and he groaned in response. Of course she knew something.

As he walked out of the house, a part of him was happy that Ellie liked you. He wouldn't dare to say it out loud, too afraid to break it, but he cared for her as his daughter. If Sarah was here, he would have prepared her to meet you and wait for her approval. Ellie was the same, if she didn’t like you he would have swallowed his interest and let it die.

If he wanted to be honest with himself (something he rarely did), you weren't supposed to reciprocate. It would have been easier. Romance was something he spent so much time of his life having trouble with that now, at 56, he had no idea of where to start.

He was too deep in mourning and his worry for Tommy that he didn’t care enough for Tess the way she deserved. She slept by his side for over 10 years and he never managed to name what he felt for her. Tess treated him like someone worth coming home to after a long day, he treated her as a warm hole whenever she tried to speak about them. She was the one who kept him sane for all that dark time before Ellie's arrival in his life. His longest relationship and yet, he felt ashamed whenever he thought of her.

Before the outbreak, he stayed almost 12 years in on-and-off soon-to-be relationships. Joel never really liked the idea of casual or one night stands, but the women in his life would show no interest or disappear after a while when he got comfortable to reveal more of him. The longest he got with someone was around six months, but she fled after meeting Sarah.

The root of all these problems? Her. Sarah’s mom. Her name was almost forbidden, such a taboo that even inside his head he wouldn’t think of it. Senior year high school sweethearts, they graduated and moved together right away. For a while it was all good, he was working nonstop to make ends meet while she would be studying to join a university.

“Our sacrifice will pay off when you see me with a diploma making six figures," she would joke to him and he would believe.

He was so proud of his girl that he didn’t notice when she started to get cold at him. The realization that she would never be as rich or be able to achieve her dreams with Joel by her side infiltrated their lives. He was holding her back by existing next to her. Not having a university diploma in his name and working through the strength of his body had a bigger weight than his love for her. She was ashamed to be with him. It only got worse when she gave birth to Sarah.

She ripped him from the inside out, stepped on all his self-steem. He couldn’t see himself as interesting or that good looking after her, always with one of his foot by the door waiting for a “no”. His loneliness wasn’t by his choice, was by fear of failing expectations. Tess made it work because, at the end of the world, crumbs tasted like a whole damn meal.

Joel didn’t want to serve you crumbs, he would make it right this time.

Somewhat near your house, a panic came rushing inside his chest. Having a hard time breathing, Joel stopped at the first lamppost and waited for it to go. It could have been five or ten minutes, he had no clue. Shit, the last panic attack he had was at his first visit to Jackson, he thought it was long gone now everything was good.

Swallowing his fear, he was able to arrive in your street in time to see you and Alfie hugging. For a second he felt stupid and thought he misunderstood your signals, but it all came down when he looked at your face.

You hugged Alfie with your eyes open. You had closed your eyes the first time Joel kissed your cheek. Whatever had happened for you to hug the man, it wasn’t desire that fueled. Getting more comfortable in his skin, Joel crossed the street and tapped at your door after a minute or so.

“Hi,” he said a little more awkward than wanted. Should he kiss you? Wait for your move?

“Hi there,” you smiled at him, taking his hand in yours as you pulled him gently into the house. He was at ease again under your touch.

The sundress you wore was so casual that he felt better by not putting too much thought into his clothing. Blue as the sky, he tried to not stare at it, but he was a little too obsessed by the view of your bare legs from your shorts to this. You noticed, painfully obvious by your soft chuckle.

“Are you still tired? I can make you coffee or get something stronger,” you asked holding his hand still. He was tired but didn't mind if it meant spending more time with you.

“Do you want something to drink? I can tag along,” caressing your palm, he replied.

“Have you already tasted Nath’s wine?” He shook his head just so you could point to the sofa with your head and move to the kitchen. “It’s made of cherry, her best creation so far.”

Joel started to look around your house trying to connect the dots of who you were in his head. Maybe you were similar in more ways than he originally thought: most of the decoration had been there before the outbreak, looking more like a family house than yours. All of it, except for a huge pile of CDs at the coffee table.

Lowering himself towards the CD pile to look closer to its covers (with age his vision was far from what it used to be), he backed instantly as an orange cat came from under the table hissing at him.

“Don’t you try me, we have just spoken about it!” You ran from the kitchen shooing the cat. With a smirk, Joel looked at you.

“What did you say the poor cat?” You opened your mouth and widened your eyes, only making his curiosity bigger.

"He knows what I've spoken to him," picking up the cat, you left the room and came back to the kitchen. Joel followed you.

“What’s his name?” He asked leaning at the wall. You had been in his kitchen two times already, it felt like a regular space for chatting with you.

"He doesn't have a name. I was afraid of naming when I found him on my back porch. It was my first week in Jackson, couldn't name a cat that might not even stay with me."

“What do you mean?” Joel could see some tension on your shoulders as you searched for something in the cabinets. He saw the careful ways you handled your life, it was unusual for you to behave like that.

“I was afraid people would ask me to leave the town. Guess part of me is still afraid of the rejection. I like living here, it's better than anywhere I've ever lived, anyway." You avoided Joel's stare while sucking on your bottom lip. If you only knew how afraid he was of being rejected by you.

The cat was glaring at him in some kind of “fuck you” stare as if Joel could do something to worsen your fear. He wasn't much of an animal lover before the outbreak, he made a note in his mental list to learn about cats if it meant to visit you more. He would try to make you feel at home and maybe, at some point, to change the décor.

“Sorry, the house hadn’t any wine glass, had to pour it in a regular one.” Two glasses with wine were at the table. He made a motion with his hand to shut it. There wasn’t a bone of fancy inside his body, you would soon realize it.

After giving the cat some food, you pass Joel a glass. Sucking on your bottom lip, you waited as he tasted the wine. To his surprise, it was delicious.

“So?” You asked timidly. Behind you, the cat still glared at him.

"Good. Not too sweet, just right. Does she craft it by herself?" Your face of relief was enough to get his head floating. At least this is what he hoped: he drank through the cross country journey a few times, but back in Boston he used alcohol to cope with his shitty life. He couldn't get back to heavy drinking, not with you and Ellie in his life.

“Yes, Seth helps too. Ready for some Springsteen?”

You turned on the CD player and put it on a low volume, as Born In The U.S.A. intro started Joel couldn't stop a grin. The lovely smile dimple on his cheek appeared and you controlled yourself to not kiss it right away. His arm stretched at the sofa backrest, you sat at his side with your head resting on his arm.

With him so close, you kept staring at the small details of his face. The colors of his beard and the little empty spot shaped as a heart next to his chin. Lifting your fingers, you traced the heart shape in a soft motion. The comfortable silence was filled only by the music, Joel the most relaxed you ever saw.

Cupping his cheek with your hand, he kissed your palm as he hummed Cover Me. He was so handsome when he didn’t have a care in the world.

“If I knew Springsteen had this effect on you I would have invited you sooner,” you teased him, who looked at you with tenderness.

“I was 17 when this album came out. Brings back good memories.” You tried to picture a young Joel listening to the music as he drove around when you realized something.

“You were at high school? Bet you were a troublemaker.”

“I wish, it woulda been better.” His face got serious out of nowhere. His dark eyes became glossy, getting worried you kept caressing his cheek.

“Not sure if I understand it,” Joel’s eyes found yours in confusion. “I never went to high school, the outbreak came first.”

Like a spell being broken, you could see your age flash behind Joel's eyes. You didn't mind the age gap but hadn't spoken about it with him yet. A fear of saying something wrong started in your stomach, sitting a little more firmly on the sofa, you tried to keep it cool.

“You didn’t miss much. It was a little shitty, no one was nice like you.” His hand was at your neck, the callouses of his fingertips making small circles at the base of your spine. His eyes were back to the same intense gaze he had seconds before you kissed him.

There it was again. The same impulse as last time, you wanted to kiss so badly. As if reading your mind, Joel guided your head in his direction. You kissed his lips which tasted like cherry wine in slow moves, savoring him. It was a chaste kiss, testing the waters still.

You wanted more. Your hand went to his hair, playing with his curls between your fingertips. Joel pulled you closer, interrupting the kiss to give a peck under your ear. Raising goosebumps over your whole skin, you closed your eyes focusing on the way his mustache tickled you. He was everywhere and not close enough.

He brought his forehead to yours, as you opened your eyes. His eyes found yours and went back to his lap, feeling confused you realized what had happened: the chaste kisses were enough to get him hard.

“Gimme a second, darlin’,” he whispered while trying to cool it down.

Instead, you kissed him with urgency. Fuck it, you wanted it too. I’m On Fire playing in the background, you sat on his lap and pushed your whole body on his. It took a second, but his hands found your waist as you ground your hips with his.

Your body was on fire as he dropped his hands from your waist to your ass, squeezing and holding you tight against his crotch. You moaned a little in his mouth, dry humping him as you felt your panties getting soaked. He responded by lifting his hips to meet yours.

Stopping the kiss with a gentle bite at his lower lip, you locked eyes with him as your hands traveled to his belt. “Can I?” your voice rushed with desire. Joel nodded fast.

Your hands moved quickly, in urgency to feel him. Getting his jeans opened, you started to palm his cock through his underwear while peppering his neck and beard with small kisses. Something in the way Joel looked at you made you believe he wasn't used to being showered with love.

Finally, dragging his underwear down you freed his cock and started to play with it from the base. Joel closed his eyes and rested his head back on the sofa, mouth still open. Finding a rhythm, you whimpered a little when he squeezed hard your ass with both hands, lifting your dress and digging his fingers at the outline of your panties. Your clit was pulsing for more friction.

“Keep goin’,” he blurted out with a hoarse voice.

And you did, until something sparkled inside you. Kissing him one last time, you started to move towards the ground. Nesting between his legs, you sank to your knees just like every Sunday before the outbreak, but this time it wasn’t for a prayer.

Making faster moves with your wrist, you admired the red skin of the head leaking and the weight of his cock at your palm. As you went to open your mouth and take him, something changed.

“Shit,” he muttered and you felt some softness in his cock. He had lost his erection.

Biting his mouth corners, Joel was ashamed. His eyes avoided yours, who only wanted to help. Moving from the ground to the sofa, you placed a kiss on his jaw, forcing him to look at you.

“I still want you, just like before." You helped him to close his buckle and belt, with a smile on your face.

He was still uncomfortable, you knew it, but you kept looking at him as if he was the best damn thing.

“I’m sorry. It’s been a while.” He confessed as you locked hands with his, not letting him go.

“For me too. We can find our own time.” He kissed you sweetly and you hoped that he believed in you as you poured your whole heart in his lips.

“He lost his boner, so what? I find it kinda sexy,” Nath started as you rolled your eyes. “I’m not joking, I do! There’s something about the desperation of it that makes me horny.”

It was late at night, the next day after Joel’s visit. You were sat in Nath’s bed with her, a white sheet above your heads and a flashlight in the middle. Two cold beers, one for each as well. It was a vent ritual and at that moment, you needed to vent about how it went.

“Can you focus? I was fine at the time, but now I think maybe I did something wrong…" You felt a little guilty of sharing such intimate details with her but knew she wouldn't judge (too hard) or tell him about it.

“Why would it be something you did? It's his dick, not yours." She stated while taking the sheets from above both your heads.

You bit your lip avoiding her stare. Why were you making a big deal of it?

"Are you a virgin? You shitting me?" Nath screamed at you, leaving her beer at the table. Of course, she would make a drama of it.

"No, stupid. Not every Mormon is an angel, you know?" You took another sip of your beer, maybe with enough alcohol you could take this conversation. "It's just... I haven't done it in such a long time and don't have that much experience. I don't want to make a fool of myself."

Nath furrowed her brows and looked up, pondering about your statement. Having sex isn't a priority when you don't have a safe place to live or could die at any moment from a runner's bite. Your first time was more of a "fuck you" to Albert than a product of romance.

"Let me get this straight: are you asking me for sex tips?" Nath gave you a shit eating grin. She wouldn't let this die. "You're getting down and dirty with the cowboy, huh?"

“At least trying to,” you retorted and she laughed.

"Want my honest opinion? He's an old man. Sometimes old men get trouble to pump up the jam." You looked at her confused, what was she talking about? "Not into eurodance? Fine, it’s natural. Old men have penises problems!”

“So I haven’t done something wrong?” You passed the whole scene again in your head, trying to see if you lost some detail. Nope, nothing.

“You were about to suck him off. I can guarantee to you: you aren’t the problem.” Nath finished her beer and went back to be under the sheets. You gave a final gulp in your glass and joined her.

“If I’m not the problem, how can I be the solution?”

This made Nath think a little further. Joel wasn’t close to her and Ellie hadn’t necessarily spoken about her surrogate father’s sexual behavior. You were in the dark.

“Honestly? I had two boyfriends and they were our age, I don’t know much about hot silver foxes. What I do know is that you lassoed the cowboy. He went to the library today, right?”

He did. Not only had lunch with you but also kissed you deeply between the bookshelves. Your arms were looped around his neck, hands on his curls – your new favorite spot. Joel was smiling on your lips.

“You seem too happy,” breaking the kiss, you asked him with curiosity.

“I like when you touch my hair, it feels good.” He said without thinking, kissing you again.

“I wanted to touch your hair for the longest time.”

Putting a small distance between you, Joel caressed your cheek and analyzed your face for a while. Getting suspicious, you pouted at him. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts, too far to reach. His dark brown eyes a little hazed.

"Joel?" You asked unsure, he blinked back at you, his thumb on your cheek again.

“Sorry, what did you say?"

Sucking your bottom lip, you felt a little weird. Was the hair commentary too much? What if it was too soon? You never had a boyfriend, Joel had way more experience than you. Jesus, you didn’t even know when someone would become a boyfriend, let alone the steps to it. Getting self-conscious, you let go of his embrace going back to work.

"Nothing, don't worry," you put on your best fake smile hoping he wouldn't notice it, but of course he did.

Not having it, Joel followed you to the other shelf and tried again. He asked one more time what had you said to him, this time you went behind the counter and spoke the truth.

“Good ‘cause I wanted for you to touch it for the longest time too," he smiled at you in a boyish way. You couldn't help but smile back.

The bliss was short lived as the library bell rang. Esther came inside with her raven hair and blue eyes, always impeccable, always beautiful. You knew that she was about to start at the council, but seeing her next to Joel made you feel small.

“Hey, Dolly. Do you mind if I interrupt to speak with Joel?” You did. A lot. Instead, you just shook your head and went to your board. "Maria asked me to come find you to remember that tonight we'll eat at her house, not the mess hall. She wants to make a special dinner for us. See you there at 8 p.m.?"

“Ah, yeah. 8 p.m. it is.” Joel kept short, but the idea of her having dinner with him was still too much for you.

You weren't jealous, but your insecurity made you put yourself lower than it was. Joel was kissing you not even five minutes ago, hinted that he was also thinking about you with the same intensity, Esther wasn't even close to him. Stop. Being. Jealous.

“Are you alright?” Esther asked. Joel furrowed his eyebrows as they both watched you hold a broken chalk in hands. Oh.

“Yeah, I wanted to make it smaller.” You smiled trying to pretend as if nothing happened.

Esther said goodbye a few seconds later, leaving you and Joel alone again. He got closer to you, his hand at the lower of your back in a cherished manner. He was showing you how much he liked you, but you were thinking about him leaving you with a stranger woman. Stop. Being. Jealous.

“He went to the library and walked me to the Bison after it. Am I overthinking?” You groaned, Nath looked up searching for an answer.

"Maybe, but Esther stinks. She was alright before being Maria's friend, now she is just as bad." Nath rolled her eyes in anger.

“About that… Alfie came to my house and said we have some problems.”

“What kind of problems?” Her blue eyes focused on you, who took a deep breath before spilling it out.

Ellie was leaving the garden, ready to say goodbye to Chad when Nath came and pushed her into an alley. Making a “shh" sign at her, Ellie couldn't understand what was happening. The blonde woman showed her a piece of pink paper with the number 11 written on it.

“Who's Jesse and why are you trading my beverage with him? Don't test me." The blonde woman grunted politely, if there is how.

"He is my friend. How do you know that?" Ellie panicked. If Nath already knew, maybe more people knew about the secret place.

“Congratulations, you proved your nickname and got me in real trouble this time. Meet me in my backyard, 9 p.m. Tell Joel you'll be with Dolly." The same way she came, Nath left a confused Ellie behind wondering how much she truly knew about her underground operation with Jesse and Dina. Blinking her brown eyes at how fucked she was, Ellie took a deep breath and braced herself for it.

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hypnolurker · 1 year

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Alice Vs The Beast

ORIGINAL IMAGE FOUND HERE

The creature that brought Alice down here was slumbering in the shadows. It was nearly twice her size, human-like but with thick, matted hair that was dirty and greasy from so much time spent below ground in the dank tunnels which it inhabited.

Alice had read about this creature before. She knew how to handle this situation. The creature liked to find smart, strong willed women on the surface and drag them down to his lair where it would breed with them. She knew not to scream or struggle as that would just attract the creature’s attention. The sick thing got off on raping and abusing the poor women that it dragged down here.

Alice knew all of this and she had a plan. The creature liked to force itself on women, but what if she were to seem willing? It liked breaking in strong willed women, what if she was weak and obedient? It wanted smart women to dominate, what if she was completely dumb and brainless? The creature would let her go and find a better target, at least that’s what the old tales said.

So when the creature stirred from its slumber, slowly opening its eyes, the lust and arousal visibly developing, Alice stayed calm. It’s penis became larger as it was clearly becoming excited to use its newest toy. She saw the enormous member, dark, putrid and the length of her forearm with more girth. Could she really stay calm? She had to act like she wanted it, like she was a dumb slut who wanted its monster cock! Otherwise he would keep her here and rape her for who knows how long…

She steeled herself. The creature crawled over to her on its powerful limbs, coming up behind her and licking the back of her ear with its oddly long and slimy tongue. She shivered. She had to keep it together…had to seem like she wanted it. She began grinding her buttocks against the creature, doing her best to moan and plead as if she was a desperate slut. It felt disgusting but she knew if she managed this she would be free and she could bring the authorities back to its lair and save all those other girls, not that some of them were really still able to be saved. She had seen some of them with blank eyes, dumbly begging for the creature to fuck them. That was just before the creature took them away. She would try her best to imitate them.

The creature paused at the surprising willingness of its victim. Alice knew it was confused, disappointed even. After a while the creature decided to continue its assault by gripping her legs with its muscular hands…or hand like appendages. It spread them slightly and lifted her rear so that it could easily slide its penis into her snatch or maybe her ass. Alice’s body stiffened. She had to act like she wanted this, needed this, but she could feel the warm cock hovering near to her snatch and she was becoming sick.

She suddenly realised that she wasn’t wet down there. Not only was that a sign that she was trying to fool the creature, it meant that when it penetrated her it would be incredibly painful! More so than just taking an enormous cock roughly from behind. She had little time so she quickly tried to get herself turned on. She thought about the sexiest guys she could, gently caressing her curves and grinding their cocks into her passionately. The reality of her situation was hard to put out of her mind though and she couldn’t stop thinking about the creature that was about to abuse her.

She needed to not only seem like a dumb slut for this creature but also get aroused by it right now. She sensed the creature about to insert its cock into her and before it could she did her best to act like the perfect horny dumb slut.

“Oh please stick your big cock in my pussy you scary monster thingy! It’s so big and thick and I love it!” She pleaded, followed by wriggling her hips as best she could and pressing her exposed hole up to the creature’s erect cock.

Again the creature was confused by this. It began to wonder if it had mistakenly moved over to the wrong victim. It stopped just before penetration and looked around as if trying to spot where the one it brought in most recently was.

This was excellent. Alice could tell she was beginning to fool it. She had to keep this up. She also needed to get horny just incase it still fucked her. She did her best to get turned on but all she could think about was the creature whose strong body pulsated behind her. Maybe she could still get turned on thinking about the creature. There was something almost alluring about its stink, it’s musk. It was so dominating in a primal way. She liked manly men so maybe she could get aroused thinking about this overly manly thing.

“I need your big dick! Dick! Dick! Mmmmm me like dick!”

She was merely parroting what she had heard from another captive but it was enough to confuse the creature even more. It still had a grip on her waist and could potentially penetrate her at any moment but she continued her act, wantonly rubbing herself up to the creature. Her attempts to become aroused were starting to work. She didn’t know how she had become aroused by this but her pussy was now becoming very damp.

Eventually the creature seemed to conclude that it didn’t in fact have another victim who would be more fun to play with. It’s attention returned to Alice as she desperately hoped that it would-“fuck me! I want fuck!”-that it would release her.

That was not the case. It began slowly inserting its massive penis into her moistened snatch. She wanted to scream but she just moaned in faux pleasure. Was it faux pleasure? Her act was starting to fool her. She was so turned on now. The musk, the begging to be fucked, her brain felt numb.

As the creature’s cock slid all the way into her snatch she felt a bulge in her abdomen. She should be struggling and yelling and crying but in reality she was licking her lips and repeating “fuck me! Fuck me! Me want fuck! Hard! Now!”

She couldn’t stop herself. She could feel the dominating presence of the creature’s cock and it was warping her mind. Was it thee stress of the situation or did she really enjoy this?

The thrusting commenced. Faster and faster the cock pushed into her and then withdrew, to her meals of pleasure. When it was sliding out she felt so empty. She tried to say it was just the contrast of being so filled but she just really needed that massive cock. She was drooling, pushing her hips back against the cock. Every stroke made her whole body shiver.

Alice felt her mind slipping away. She remembered all the victims she had seen in this state. She hadn’t realised how good it felt to submit to the enormous cock. She struggled to think of anything but the cock smashing into her, sending pulses throughout her body, shockwaves into her head. Her eyes became more dazed, more blank. Her moans were loaded, her begging more desperate.

“FUCK! CUM! USE ME! NEED BIG COCK! NEED GOOEY CUM!”

Her thoughts were gone as she dribbled down her chest, the creature’s cum spurting forcefully into her. She orgasmed so powerfully her whole body spasmed around the cock, sweat and juices going everywhere. The last thing she ever managed to think other than needing cock was that the creature did release the dumb needy sluts, but she hadn’t heard of them coming back. She knew why. She knew she wouldn’t go back.

She dropped to her knees to clean off her new masters cock. She couldn’t take it all in her mouth yet, but she knew she would eventually. She slurped eagerly for now, glad she could be of service to her big strong master.

#mindbrokensluts #story #not mine #Reconstruction

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redflannelsheets · 10 months

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maybe I’ll just write little letters to you here. I presume you won’t be coming back, so who does it hurt? You’ve probably blocked me elsewhere, though I’ve only sent two texts and an email, all kind, since the last time you talked to me, which was my birthday.

I wonder if you’ve had it hammered home that I’m some kind of obsession or addictive thing. That last idea really hurts, considering that I’m an autonomous human being with thoughts and feelings, a person who cares deeply for you and never wanted to influence you in any undue way. I’m not an inert substance granted unlimited power—through some outdated philosophy—to control you.

I wonder sometimes if I’m obsessed, if my inability to stop thinking of you every day is some problem I ought to solve. But then I think about how we grieve. When someone dies, and we’re still sad two years later, it’s considered pretty shitty to tell us to “get over it” or just stop thinking about them already. We didn’t end on bad terms, but you did ghost me, which is essentially a death of some kind. I think of you warmly, but I’m so sad about it that there are times I’ll find myself just sobbing in the middle of the day because I can’t send you a silly text or tell you about the book I’m reading or show you a picture of my cat or excitedly infodump about a new band I like. Just that silly daily stuff. I miss sending you a good morning text. I miss saying goodnight to you. I miss all of the things that made us friends, though you probably think I don’t care about that. I have to assume things because you won’t tell me, because you wouldn’t tell me to my face. All of a sudden I was just the bad guy, not someone who had been by your side for years, accepting that she had to be patient, so so so fucking patient, like preternaturally patient, the way no other woman was asked to be. Just wait a little longer. Please just be patient. And when I waited, and waited, and waited, and was finally told it could be my turn—you left. I’ve had to fill in the gaps. I assume you married her. I assume you had a child. I assume so much, things that keep me from talking to you, because I don’t want to be the one that ruins everything for you—again. Again, again, again. I’m just a life-ruiner, right? I’m just Trouble with a capital T, right? It hurts to think that this is all I am to you. that some stranger could take you under their wing and keep you from being kind to me the way I was kind to you, for someone else, someone you were never even truthful about.

I’m allowed to be hurt. I’m allowed to miss you. I’m allowed to grieve. I’m allowed to wish, no matter how slim the chance, that you might want to be my friend again. I’m still here and my welcome mat is still out. The bubble is still intact, though it’s cloudy. I miss the feeling of safety, of being warm and wanted, not just “warm and welcomed,” which was a slap in the face considering I was being pushed out the door simultaneously. I have trouble trusting people right now. I can’t quite believe people when they say they care about me. I gave you all of me, but I feel like maybe you were just laughing at me, maybe you didn’t mean any of it, maybe you hate me now. I can’t imagine sharing my body with anybody else. I used to demur in the most polite fashion when you suggested people would like my photos on 18+ subreddits, because I knew you were just paying a compliment, but it did make me feel kind of dirty and gross. Like you wouldn’t just accept the gift of me to you between us—I’m a commodity that other people would like. As if I’m not protective of my body, as if I’m not someone special; as if you really thought I’m just some attention seeker who doesn’t care where the attention comes from as long as it’s there. I’m demisexual, a kind of asexual, and yeah, I know we made fun of him for his asexuality, but I never could find the words to tell you. I almost did, but by the time I got them together you’d left. I can’t be sexual with just anyone, you mondo doofus. It was only you. Everyone else felt weird and wrong. But you? I was yours. And it felt right. And I miss that, because I’ll probably never be sexual with anyone ever again. Let alone post my contextless nudes for scummy one-handed fappers who don’t give a shit about what’s between the ears and what thumps beneath the breast. Did you ever really care about those things, or did you just tell me that to keep the pictures coming?

I miss you. I hate this. I hate how complicated everything feels. I still do things, I didn’t just lay down and die, but that hurts too. I have so much art to show you and so many books to tell you about and I can’t! Even if you were interested, which I doubt you are, you’d probably just delete whatever I send you in the interests of being “good.” And even this is supposition, because I just don’t know! How can you just leave me behind like this? Why was I not worth a relationship? Am I the wrong kind? Would your friends and mother hate me THAT much? Is loving a dopey fat-ass with no real career aspirations such a shame?

I don’t know where I’m going with this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. All I wanted to do was love you. And I do, still, even though I try to keep myself from it. I can’t hate you. I just want to hold your hand or hide my face against your chest and tell you over and over again how sorry I am.

I love you. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.

💜

#letters to you

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wcrjreporter · 10 months

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Locks in Socks

06/03/2022

_____,

Thank you for your letter, I keep it under my pillow (which I currently don’t have, so I fold the top of my mat and that seems to work for now) for safe keeping. I know it seems like I fly off the cuff sometimes when my calls are so tense, but thank you for being there to answer and give me the time of day.

The main girl in her I worry about is named J-D-... she is supposedly friends with a R-O- (whom I think she may have a sexual/drug history with) who supposedly said ____ and I abused her to get time off her sentence. (Note: R-O- was let out of WCRJ by Detectives who promised her they would do so in exchange for her providing a statement against my co-defendant and I. She later confessed that to people on the street, as well as that the statements she gave Detectives were false and she only gave them to get herself out of Jail and to get her case thrown out.) DO NOT SHARE THAT INFO, even with Detective J- right now, because I’d be labeled as a rat in here for saying anything and beat for it. I guess that’s how things work in here… and the girls have a loyalty to J-D- both here and on the streets. I’m only sending this info to you so in case something happens to me (Hopefully I get out of here before it does) you know the truth and aren’t left in the dark. A few more things I unfortunately can’t share on the phone: I have learned many girls in here have Hepatitis and Herpes, and some have HIV. I have done my best to keep my distance, but when I get out I will probably need an STD test just to make sure I’m safe.

If one of them fights me, one of the methods I’ve heard the girls bragging about is spitting/infecting their opponents (including especially the Guards). Socks filled with rocks, handmade shivs, and other methods are also a possibility. Again, do not share this because this info is very dangerous for me to disclose to anyone… getting accused of being a rat is worse than even my charges and results in an instant punishment, but I’d be an idiot not to. Just please keep it between us for now. Another thing I’ve learned is about the Discovery - (CoDefendant) and I will be able to see everyone’s statements including each others without anonymity. The reason I never called the Police or talked to anyone about my personal situation (other than not trusting the Police because I knew they were dirty and would only worsen my situation) was due to fear of retaliation. Being a rat in ANY WAY is dangerous. Please be careful. I have done my damndest to de-escalate the reaction to my situation in here and the girls are now conflicted as to what to do with me or how to feel about me now that they know the truth (especially about R-O- lying and telling J-D- about it.) I think I’m ok for now… but still trying to take precautions just in case.

I love you. Pray for me. I’ll be praying too. I love you. I miss ______. I hope that I can get out of here. I hope to see you soon.<3 Me (Anon #143669)

(P.S. it’s not (co-defendant) I’m worried about retaliating but someone completely new. (CD) won’t want to, they will. Don’t try to talk about it… just listen to me. I’m just scared… I told the truth. I’m scared some people will be angry about it.

#felon #incarceration #jail #prison #bowling green #ky #kentucky #warren #county #regional #convict #truther #investigation #creepypasta

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imma-uhhh-eat-a-bug · 1 year

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Marigold’s suicide

Narration

When I woke up this morning it was from drops of blood falling onto my face. As my vision cleared I saw something hanging, dangling limply from the slowly rotating ceiling fan. Our dog had hung herself. Marigold, I cried for her, but of course, she could not hear me, she had been dead long before I could have stopped her. In my grief, I carefully took her down. Barbed wire was tied in a noose around her neck, and blood from her wound had dirtied some of her shiny fur. I remembered how we used to love Marigold, how we used to play with Marigold. I remember the fields, the stream, and the great oak tree. I cry as I think of the times we spent with Marigold as she lay lifeless now in my arms. I knew I owed her a proper goodbye for the good she brought. I tied the Barbed wire of her noose around my shoulders and walked out into the dark. You know our house is so dark, and Marigold used to shine so brightly, but now the blood has coated her beautiful fur. As I stumbled through the black I bumped into old cupboards, and antique dressers, I stubbed my toe on a table we should have thrown out years ago. Lots of things from times I thought I left behind, things I could avoid with Marigold beside me. With a step, my head rattled full of thoughts. Had it been me? Did I drive Marigold to this end? Did I not love her enough, or did I love her too much? Did I not pet her fur as she wanted? Was the food I gave not to her liking? And then another thought, was it you perhaps? Could you have hurt her? Scorned her in some way? Hurt her so she would feel the need to do this? Our own beloved dog. I walked to the stream by memory, tears gently stinging my eyes. Looking down at its stained coat, the shimmer lost under streaks of blood. Gently laying her into the river, I watch the crystalline water take on a new shade. Liquid rubies flow away, leaving only the golden fur. Perhaps it wasn’t me, maybe it wasn’t you. Maybe this is what happens when a dog’s served its purpose. I lift her body from the river, the fur is matted by the water but the golden sheen continues. I hold her in my arms and feel her weight. She’s heavier than I remember. I think of the beast inside the fur. The teeth that bit me. The throat growled. She would sometimes run from me, leaving me alone in the dark. I’m sure there are times she did the same to you. As I reach the base of the great oak tree, resting her body at its roots I find myself confused and conflicted. Did she ever love us, did we ever love her? All the times we needed her, all the times she hurt us. I brush my hand gently across her golden fur. She was good though, and she was kind. Maybe it is not as simple as I would like it to be, but we did love her. Maybe is some way we still need her. I take a knife from my pocket. I pierce the blade into her stomach just below the skin and gently make my way across. I think in the end Marigold understood better than we did. She knew she had no more to give. I wrap myself in what was Marigold’s pelt, her fur’s shine seems somehow brighter than before. I place one hand on Marigold and say my goodbyes before I leave her by the tree. We loved Marigold and always will, but our time together is over. Her golden fur will stay with us always.

By Alias

#short story #story #surreal #writting

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smolcuriouskitten · 2 years

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Inspired by @ofwaywardsunshine 's way of writing hallucinations!

tw; death, rape mention, depression, grief, sadness, hallucinations, literally all of them here.

The vinyl spun quietly in the record playing as she laid in bed. It was getting harder to do basic things affer her mother died, all at the hands of her forsaken husband. She heard his voice, ringing in her ear like a bell, deep and somber, almost counting down the moments she had left.

She was haunted by the thought of Magic's friends coming after her. Their voices taunting and teasing her, their phantom hands touching her like they did that faithful night. It made her feel dirty. She was dirty. Unclean in a mental and physical sense that no amount of water could ever clean. Roxie was getting her fill of misery, never staying with Rockelle for long, causing more havoc for her. Every day she came home with more fears to share with her, claiming his friends were closing in on her.

One day, Roxie decided to take Rockelle off the deep end, just to get more of a fill for that dark energy she craved. It was the first time in days Rockelle got out of bed, she was barely eating or sleeping, just sitting in her own emotions since she couldnt bring herself to do much else. She heads to the bathroom to take a shower and looks at herself in the mirror with a sigh. Her face still adorned with a black eye Magic left days before, scars a plenty and her hair was a matted mess.

With a sigh, she opens the cabinet to grab her toothbrush in hopes of keeping some sense of cleanliness, she closes it soon after. A figure that was not there before hand was standing behind her. With a gasp, she turns around and her mouth was quickly covered, her eyes wide and thick with fear. It was one of Magic's friends, Robert. She only knew that because he would say his name like a god damn pokemon. She could only shake and cry at his hands as they grabbed her.

She remembered Robert due to his large stature and body. His hands felt so much bigger than everyone elses and that made her fearful. "You thought you could get away from us huh?" His voice rang and Rockelle sobbed, the man shaking her for a response. "Now you cant talk? Oh you are so god damn weak. Killing your husband like that, oh it was so stupid of you. You think that because hes gone, we wont finish the job? Continue that same cycle?" All of his words made her fall deeper into that depression. She felt helpless to the situation, no matter how many spells she would learn.

She was frozen in place, going limp as he held her, giving up with the fighting. She couldnt stop crying, tears rushing down her face like a little river, too scared to make a sound or fight. After a few moments of Robert holding Rockelle, he laughs and drops her onto the floor with a thud, disappearing shortly after. Roxie snaps her finger and laughs at Rockelle, curling into a ball, holding her knees. "You are hilarious! I thought you would have been screaming and begging for mercy! You are pathetic, look at you..." She leans down to Rockelle level and grabs her face.

"All tired out from your own sadness. So cute. I love being out so much...I can do whatever I want at this point. I should have him come by along with everyone else. Maybe they need a round two." She lets Rockelles face drop back to the ground and kicks her side making Rockelle whine and groan, but she stayed in the ball position. "Get up and take a damn shower. You reek." With that, Roxie leaves Rockelle alone in the room, her heels ascending and a door shutting in its place. The sound of silence filled the air and it was broken by the small sobs and cries Rockelle let out.

#dont pull it!; {trigger tag}#i think too much; {dabbles}#ew feelings; {angst}

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beyondspaceandstars · 2 years

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“Kiss me, i’m miserable.”

Relationship: Natasha Romanoff x Reader Warnings: N/A Drabble Summary: Natasha rarely shows weakness around you… but some days are just rough. Word Count: 495

Masterlist

Natasha pretty much never let you see her having a bad day. You didn’t know how she did it, given the intensity of her work and everything. You knew if you were in her place, the stress would be practically emitting off you. But not Natasha. She had, for as long as you two have been together, kept the weight of her day job out of your life.

That was, well, until one particularly hard day. She never explained what had exactly been her breaking point but you didn’t think you actually wanted to know.

Natasha had come home late that night which wasn’t actually too out of the ordinary. You were used to her wandering into your shared apartment in the dead of night but there was something different about it this time.

It was around 2 AM when you felt the bed dip beside you, signaling Natasha’s arrival. Almost immediately, before she even had a chance to get herself comfy, an arm was locked around your waist, pulling you into her side. The motion was so sudden it forced you awake.

You shifted into your girlfriend’s hold and brought a free hand to intertwine with hers. That’s when you felt something unusual: she was still wearing her uniform. You couldn’t remember a time Natasha kept her uniform on for more than five minutes after returning home.

Concerned, you muttered, "Nat, is everything alright?"

"Y-Yeah," she responded in a cracked whisper. Your heart sank. Carefully, you twisted in her grip until your faces were just inches apart. That’s when you finally saw her, really saw her and all her features. From her matted-down hair to her bruised face and stained uniform.

"What’s wrong, babe?" You asked softly, unsure of how to navigate this territory. It was new for you both which probably shouldn’t have been the case. You were suddenly kicking yourself for not getting her to open up more often.

Natasha was quick and short to respond. "Nothing," she said, her eyes heavily focused on anywhere but you.

"You’re still in your suit," you commented as you traced the borderline plastic material carefully. It was dirty and stiff.

"Didn’t feel like taking it off." Natasha paused. "Too tired."

You frowned. "Nat, do you…do you want to talk about it? Whatever it is?"

"No," she replied, a bit of bite in her tone. Natasha shook her head slowly. "Sorry, but, no. No, thank you, sweetheart."

"Well," you sighed, "is there anything I can do?"

"Let me hold you," Natasha whispered. "And kiss me, I’m miserable."

The admission weighed on your heart but you didn’t press. Gently, you placed a kiss on your girlfriend’s forehead. She sighed contently, which only eased your worries slightly.

Wordlessly, Natasha pulled you in tighter, her hand tracing patterns up and down your back. You didn’t say a peep, just tried to give your girlfriend some comfort from whatever hellish day she had had, hoping all would settle with time.

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randomimaginesideas · 3 years

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Let me rage Part 1

Summary; Finally reunited Valtor and (Y/n) can get back to conquer the magic dimension. (Y/N) gets to meet the Trix and shows why she is Valtor’s right hand. Deciding to infiltrate Alfea she meets the Winx, and becomes an important player in this battle.

Continuation of Together again (1) (2)

A/N; So I made like 1 valtor x reader one shot and to this day I still get likes on it, either on tumblr or on AO3. And I was planning on writing more parts but that didn’t happen, and now every once in a while I get a Valtor dream dragging me back into this one shot- universe. So you can thank my subconscious for this one.

Also if you want to follow this “series” more you can find it on AO3. This has been posted for a while but I just forgot to post it on here as well, so sorry for that.

And please if you have a certain thing you want to see, please feel free to leave a request in my inbox.

Trigger warnings; Mention of abuse, mentions of death.

The door to Griffin’s office creaked open. The spell that Valtor had placed on it vanished. Icy’s head peaked around the corner looking into the empty office. ‘It’s safe.’ She said to her sister’s who were standing behind her. The door opened wider as the Trix walked in the office.

It had been a couple hours after they had left Valtor alone with his new company. When they had arrived at Griffin’s cell all blood had drained from their faces, making Icy even paler in the face than she already was. The Trix had been convinced Valtor had killed Griffin. In the middle of the cell lay Griffin, barely moving. It was when the Trix saw the slow rise of the chest, they let out a slow breath.

It had been clear that Valtor had used any means necessary to get the information he wanted out of her. Icy quickly shed the shock of her face as she stepped forward and leaned against the bars. ‘You did this to yourself.’ She said her voice barely a whisper. Griffin had raised her face up at them, had said nothing. Just crawled towards the wall to lean against it. Cuts and bruises covered her face as she kept her eyes to the wall opposite her.

Icy had tsk’ed and walked away from the cell door. When a couple of hours had passed and they were sure that Griffin wouldn't die, they had decided that they would see if Valtor had need of them again.

Only just before they excited the hallway they heard Griffin’s voice, softly. If they had walked any faster or had been talking they wouldn't have heard her. ‘I would advise you to play nice, if you don’t want to end up like me, or worse.’ Griffin saw from her position against the wall how the Trix shared a look between them, but they quickly continued their way back up stairs.

Griffin let out a low laugh, which sounded more like a gasp of pain, which could be because of the 4 broken ribs. She knew that there could only be two reasons she survived. Either Valtor had spared her because of their shared history, even though it didn’t feel like it. Or because Griffin had a strong will, and refused to die here in this cell of her own school. And she knew the Trix had neither.

And now the Trix stood in her office, thinking about her words for themselves. Wondering what they mean. Icy was just on her way to sit on the desk when the door to Griffin’s bed chamber opened. The room seemed to darken the moment she set a foot into the office.

She was barefoot, her dirty black dress ended just above her knees. The dress wasn’t in the perfect state it had always been in. There were tears and stains in the skirt, showing the white fabric beneath. The Trix had seen the zipper was torn off the side of the dress quickly before the woman placed a coat over her shoulders. The coat of Valtor they realized. It hung over her shoulder, past her knees, the arms loose around the coat. Her (H/c) hair hung loose around her face, messy like hands had pulled and gone through them a thousand times.

The (E/C) eyed woman looked over at the three ladies in front of her. This must be the Trix she thought, as they matched Valtor descriptions which had been told between passionate make out sessions. ‘Where is Valtor?’ Darcy asked the woman standing in front of them. Her head turned looking into the bedchamber she just excited from. There she saw her world, sleeping on the bed, sheets covering his legs. A slight smile ghosted her lips. ‘He’s meditating.’ She said as she closed the door behind her, and continued her way towards the desk, wisp of smoke vanishing where her feet left, as she sat down in the chair. ‘You must be the Trix.’ A friendly smile across her face, but not reaching her eyes.

‘And you must be (Y/n).’ Icy stated, remembering what Valtor had told him. The woman in front of them didn’t look much older than them. But she had been with Valtor 17 years ago, making her older than she looked. Apparently you don’t age as a statue. Valtor had called (Y/n) his right hand. The Trix hadn’t known Valtor for long, but if they knew one thing about Valtor it was that you needed to be strong, and powerful if you wanted to be important to Valtor. And the woman in front of them didn’t seem impressive.

‘How sweet, Valtor told you about me.’ She said with a smile, but a distant smile, a smile people get on their face when they think of somebody they care about. ‘It would be hard not to tell them about you. I needed their help to get you out of your prison.’ Valtor’s voice added from the bed chamber door. He stood fully dressed except for his coat that was still on (Y/n)’s shoulders. His hair combed, not a hair out of place. A grin placed himself on (Y/n)’s face. Always the perfect gentleman, no one would see him differently, no one but her.

(Y/n) rose from the desk chair as she shrugged the coat of her shoulders and placed it in his outstretched hand. Valtor pulled the coat on in one swift motion. ‘Yes, and thank you for that.’ (Y/n) said to the Trix, who straightened their shoulders, standing proudly. ‘No problem, it was nothing. Stormy said, waving her hand. ‘I mean, not everybody could break out that spell but for us it was nothing. ’ She continued and (Y/n) raised an eyebrow. ‘Well you have my thanks anyway.’

‘(Y/n) will need new clothing, i’m sure you have something she can wear.’ Valtor stated. Not asking, stated. Leaving no room for an argument. (Y/n) would have new clothes and they would be from them. His eyes focused on the Trix. ‘I’m sure we have some clothes around her. Otherwise we have enough witches to pick from.’ Darcy said as she walked towards the office doors. ‘Come ladies, we will be back in a few minutes.’ Darcy said as her sisters followed her.

When the door closed (Y/n) looked up at Valtor. ‘They are an interesting company to keep around.’ She raised on her toes and placed a haste kiss on his lips. ‘Shadows, I have missed you. ’ She muttered as leaned against him. ‘I want to kiss you so bad.’ (Y/n) looked into his eyes as she twirled a piece of his hair around her fingers. ‘Then why don’t you?’ Valtor asked with a smirk leaning closer. ‘The problem with that is, that if I start kissing you I won’t be able to stop.’ She said as he leaned closer to her lips, and she pulled away.

Valtor watched her move, the way her feet barely touched the floor as she walked. Little wisps of black smoke twirling and then vanishing as she continued to walk. The dress that hung across her body, the dress he had gifted her a few days before their defeat. Her bare shoulders, which were now bare because of an illusion spell, but he knew were full of bite marks and bruises.

After all this time she still managed to pull him in, to make her the only source of light in the room. The pull he had only felt for her, until recently. Until a little red head fairy showed up. But he hadn’t told (Y/n) about that pull, he knew his right hand, he knew that her emotions would get the better of her. Her raw emotions always got in the way if they became too much, and he didn’t need that. He needed her by her side, in control of herself, and fully invested into him. Like it always had been and how it always will be. Not like it was before he showed up.

While Valtor had been distracted by his own thoughts (Y/n) had placed herself on the desk, her feet dangling a few centimeters above the ground. Valtor walked towards her and placed his hand against her cheek. ‘I’m just happy you’re here with me again. Nothing has made me sadder than imagining myself not seeing you ever again.’ Valtor said as (Y/N) closed her eyes and he pressed a kiss on her forehead.

‘I’ve searched everywhere for you, I didn’t know what had happened to you after I had been captured, so I questioned Griffin until she told me.’ Valtor said as (Y/N) opened her eyes, a fierce look in them. She grabbed Valtor’s hand and gave it a light squeeze. ‘It was horrible, seeing and hearing everything around you, not being able to move, standing in the sun day in and day out, not knowing what had happened to you. But we will show them, we will show them what happens to people who stand in our way.’ Her voice sounded broken at the beginning and became stronger, and stronger with each sentence. The look in her eyes almost made Valtor want to drag her back into the chamber to prevent the world from taking her away again, but he knew that because of that fierceness she was his right hand, and he needed her in this quest. She was going to be a game changer, because if he knew anything from their past is that when the shadows are fierce, let them rage.

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