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thedreamlessnights · 2 years

Text

Not an end, but the start of all things

{chapter one} - {chapter two} - {chapter three} - {chapter four} - {chapter five} - {chapter six} - {chapter seven} - {chapter eight} - {chapter nine} - {chapter ten}

Vampire!Viktor x F!Reader AU (Eventual NSFW)

Synopsis: After the bite, you and Viktor both come to term with your new realities.

Warnings: Mentions of self-harm with a knife, but only for the purpose of retrieving blood for consumption. Self-deprecation, accidental injury, and the description of wounds. A tiny little spicy scene, but nothing too graphic. That's saved for next chapter.

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: Thank you so much to @basichextechml and @dicax-asina for all your help and input with this chapter. You guys are amazing. Also, thank you so much to everyone for all the response on the last chapter. It was so incredibly inspiring and such a huge payoff to see that my work came off the way I wanted it to. If I made you cry, I apologize endlessly. Hopefully this chapter will heal all the hurt I've caused.

It’s been three days since Viktor bit you, and he still hasn’t slept.

Three days, and all the while you’ve been out cold. The only sign you’re alive is the shallow falling and rising of your chest, and the faint pulse from your wrist and your neck.

Viktor can’t help but wonder whether or not you’re still dying.

Those first two days had been filled with an aching hope - foolish, illogical, the kind he hadn’t let himself feel in years, knotted in his chest like a ribbon. Ever since you’d arrived at his doorstep, you’d brought with you a tormenting intoxication for life, one he had never been able to share before you.

Even Jayce had not persuaded him the way you did, though he’d once come close.

That admiration for all your surroundings, for living, flowing from every part of you, had not taken long before it’d spread to him.

Infectious, in its own way. Slowly seeping through all the defenses he’d been building around himself since -

Well, that hardly matters anymore.

Those first two days, he’d waited diligently at your side, prepared with any requests you might have when you woke - food, water, comfort - he’d anticipated them all. But those needs never came, because you hadn’t roused. Not the first day, and not the second, and not the third.

You smiled in your sleep, despite everything. Wherever you were in your own mind, it at least seemed to be peaceful. Sometimes you even murmured soft nothings into the air - words that Viktor never quite picked up.

Except his name. He’d hear his name.

Those two soft syllables came from your mouth more frequently than anything else - a soft sigh as he brushed down your forehead with a cool cloth, a murmur as you reached out your hands to find nothing but air, a melodic hum of him in your dreams.

Viktor managed to feed you spoonfuls of broth, and get you to drink some water. To make sure that your hair didn’t mat under you.

Nox, meanwhile, sat at your side always, kneading into the blankets, purring louder than ever.

But you didn’t stir.

Viktor had tried to hold out hope. It’d seemed like the venom would do its job and you’d soon return to him.

But, as he found out on the night of the second day, he hadn’t taken enough blood from you. Not even remotely.

During the moment when his fangs sank through the softness of your flesh, and the sweet iron taste of you flooded his mouth, he nearly lost himself.

He’d never tasted anything like you, nothing as sweet or enticing or heady.

Nothing.

His own impulses had frightened him. It left him with a deep, paralyzing fear that seemed to root inside his muscles and spread like a wildfire - consuming him until he couldn’t move, or think, or feel anything but your neck against his lips, your rising chest against his left hand, your fluttering pulse under his right thumb.

In the midst of all that, he’d conjured up the entirety of his will and pulled away.

An irrational thing to do. Evolution had served its purpose of symbiosis well - no matter how hungry he was, he’d never be able to take enough to hurt you. Even a starving vampire would only take what they needed to survive - nothing more.

Scientifically speaking, it was unheard of for any vampire to take more blood than necessary.

Viktor was more than familiar with that fact, but it hadn’t stopped that fear from overcoming his logic - his emotion getting the better of him.

Now he’s paying the price.

He's so hungry he can barely think.

His mind is clouded, fogged over like a glass windowpane in the winter, each thought clumsy and tripping over itself. His mouth is dry, no matter how much water he drinks, and his lips are beginning to chap. All he can think about is blood - your blood, warm under the skin, so delightfully sweet.

But he can’t find it in himself to take from you - not when you aren’t awake.

Then there’s the pain.

Every joint, every nerve and muscle, aches from deep within - flaming up from his very bones, it seems. His leg especially. Throbbing, boiling pain under the layers of dermis, knotted muscles that won’t relax. He’s too impatient to make himself salves. They’ll only scratch the surface. Mask the true problem.

Not enough blood.

If he were to guess, he’d estimate the amount of blood he’d taken had been about the same as the vials at the market. Which, to put it simply, is not enough when dealing with human blood.

Vampires simply need more of it than animal blood. No one knows why.

He’d done the calculations. Humans could safely have about two hundred and twenty-five milliliters of blood taken from them, every forty-two or so days - especially with the healing factor of vampire venom. The amount he’d taken, if he was estimating based on the vials, was roughly eight times less than that. He’d taken seven times less than what he’d needed. Not to mention the fact that he’d already been behind on blood when he’d bitten you.

He’s starving.

Unfortunately, he can no longer drink animal blood. Not that he hadn’t tried it, of course. What kind of scientist would he be if he didn’t experiment?

But his tests only confirm what he already knows. Animal blood - which was once light, warm, and sweet - sours on his tongue. He can barely manage to swallow it down. It does nothing to curb his hunger. If anything, it makes it worse.

The price of human blood.

A price he’d pay time and time again, if it would only bring you back to him.

If.

Why had he delayed, when he’d been so scared to lose you? What will he do, if the venom doesn’t take its effect in time, and you wither away?

He hardly knows. He’d barely survived losing Jayce. It had crushed him - flattened him down into a phantom of himself, and even in all his attempts to rebuild himself from the ground up, he’d lost pieces of who he’d been along the way. Those pieces sit like holes in him now - a shining monument, it’d seemed, to what could have been.

To what he’d lost.

He doesn’t know if he has it in him to lose you.

At one in the morning on that third day - fourth now, Viktor realizes with a sinking of his stomach, comes a knock at the door.

It can only be one person, and Viktor’s not exactly thrilled at the prospect of seeing him, given how things had been left off. He delays moving until a second knock comes, then finally stirs out of the position he’d been sitting in, muscles aching something fierce. His leg, in particular, has begun to throb.

He sets down his notes and stretches, grabbing his cane and heading for the door.

The very moment he stands, he’s hit with the sickly-sweet notes of alcohol, even beyond the thick wood of his front door. Heightened senses from your blood, perhaps. He’ll have to chart down the noticeable differences when he gets the chance.

In the meantime, he’s a bit preoccupied by the presence on his porch.

When he swings the door open, he finds a soaking wet, very drunk Jayce, eyes puffy and swollen. In his hand is an empty bottle of whiskey - one that signifies Jayce will soon be sober, given the rate of his metabolism.

For now, he’s inebriated, looking at Viktor with an intense grief that has Viktor averting his eyes to the floor, lest he should feel the things he’s been trying not to for the last three years.

“I’m sorry,” Jayce says desperately, the words thick with tears. “I’m so sorry, Vik. I….”

He hiccups, then starts crying, burying his face in his hands.

For a long moment, Viktor considers leaving him out there in the rain. Then he imagines what it would be like, thinking you were dead for three days, and he softens.

“You’d better come in,” he says with a frown, heading in to grab a towel. He leaves the door open behind him, an invitation for Jayce to follow him in.

It’s clear Jayce has not been having the best three days, either. He’s trembling from head to toe, liquid dripping from his coat onto Viktor’s wooden floor. His chest won’t stop heaving with muted sobs.

“How bad was it?” he chokes out, the sentence hushed, as if he doesn’t want to ask but can’t help himself.

“I wouldn’t know. She’s not dead.”

This freezes Jayce where he stands, blinking the remnants of water from his eyes and eyes flicking from Viktor to the living room. When he finds what he’s looking for - namely, you, sleeping on the makeshift bed Viktor had made you, he stumbles over and kneels down next to you.

“She’s still asleep,” Viktor tells him, handing him a towel. “If… if I was fast enough, she should wake up soon.”

“Thank you,” Jayce says. “I - I know… that it cost you a lot.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” Viktor hisses, words harsher than he’d meant. Then he softens, drawing a hand over his face. Fills his lungs with air, then exhales deeply. An attempt at calming his anxiety, and the vicious anger that’s filled him ever since Jayce left him, alone in the lab.

“I didn’t take enough blood, Jayce,” he murmurs. “I’m worried I was too late. What if…”

He can’t even finish his own sentence.

Jayce finally makes use of the towel, shedding his coat and placing it on the table along with his whiskey bottle, shaking the fabric through his sopping hair.

“Would mine work?”

Viktor’s mind stops working for a moment, every thought rearing to a grinding halt.

“What?”

“My blood. It’s technically half-human, half-animal, right?”

Viktor stares at him.

“I - I doubt it,” he says. “If that worked, some - some vampire would have found it already.”

“How do you know? Vampires and werewolves typically avoid each other, right? Has anyone tried it before?”

And Jayce is right.

Viktor can’t bring to mind a single mention of a vampire ever turning to a were’s blood.

It might not work - in fact, it would be absolutely ridiculous if it did, considering how long he’d worked on a cure only to have it standing three feet away from him, his partner for years.

Still, Viktor is so fucking hungry. He’s had bad times before, but nothing ever like this. There’s a growing pool of absolute shame at the amount of times he’s thought of taking from you despite your state. But he can’t. He won’t.

If Jayce is right and his blood provides sustenance, then, well, Viktor is willing to turn to that at this point. At the very least, Jayce is conscious and offering it freely.

“Alright,” Viktor says, swallowing hard. “How do you - want to extract your blood?”

In response, Jayce takes a small paring knife from the table and slices a thin line along his thenar eminence.

The smell of his blood fills the room, and Viktor has to hold on to the table for a moment.

Maybe this really will work.

“You’re insane,” Viktor says, shutting his eyes so he won’t see the glistening red liquid that no doubt is dripping from Jayce’s hand. “Did you have to do that? You couldn’t have - chosen a less painful location?”

“It barely stung, Vik,” Jayce says. “C’mon. Are you just going to stand there and let me bleed?”

Viktor hates him, then. He really does.

He can still smell the whiskey on Jayce’s breath, and he can hear the blood, steadily falling onto the floor with each drip, drip, drip. Outside, he can hear the soft melodic hum of the wind chimes on the porch. The wind, flowing through the fields, rustling the wildflowers and the spring grass, just starting to grow.

He’s just started to wonder if Jayce’s blood will get him drunk, too - when the smell of blood strengthens and he opens his eyes to find Jayce not a meter away, holding out his hand for Viktor to drink.

And drink he does.

Holding Jayce’s gaze, pressing the man’s bleeding palm to his lips, and letting the blood run onto his tongue.

For one, singular, wonderful moment, it’s sweet on his tongue. Then, just as quickly, it sours - rancid, bitter, burning like alcohol, and he stumbles away, breathing heavily, holding onto his cane so tightly that his knuckles go white. It provides no relief to his hunger.

He wipes his mouth and shakes his head, shaking like a leaf.

Jayce’s disappointment is palpable.

“I’m sorry,” Jayce says, clenching his bleeding hand into a fist. “I hoped…”

“I knew it,” Viktor murmurs, bitter and exhausted and still so hungry. “That it wouldn’t work. It was too… easy.”

In response, Jayce places a hand on Viktor’s shoulder, still warm despite everything else.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?” he says, voice as steady and reassuring as ever. “Just like we used to. Together.”

“Jayce, we can’t just… experiment our way out of this,” Viktor replies, exasperated. “If she dies, I will die too.”

“That’s not what you would have told me five years ago,” Jayce tells him, giving him a slight grin. “I know you can find that cure, okay? And I’ll be here to help you.”

“And what will your wife think of that?”

There’s a pregnant pause as the words settle in, bleeding deep under the skin. Jayce looks visibly hurt, then turns his gaze to the floor.

“Viktor-”

But Viktor is maddened, starving and bitter, and he can’t quell the flame of lividity that’s curling up inside him anymore.

“You think you can just… come back like this?” Viktor asks, digging his nails into his palm. “Why should I trust that you won’t leave the same way you left last time, when your wife inevitably disagrees with me?”

The words sit for a long time before Jayce replies.

“I… I know I fucked up, Vik,” he says softly. “I know I hurt you. I… won’t pretend it was right. Or that I don’t regret it, and everything I’ve done since. I - I just wanted to make it right.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. For leaving, and for - for leaving her with you, too. For everything.”

Viktor can’t even look at him, choosing to focus on the table instead. Tears burn at his eyes, threatening to spill out, to betray him, and he can’t have that. Not in front of Jayce. His hand tightens on his cane, words choking in his throat.

“If you want me to leave,” Jayce starts, “I can. I don’t… know what it’s like for you. I can’t imagine.”

“Yes,” Viktor manages. “Please go.”

There’s a long beat.

“Alright.”

Jayce grabs his coat and the empty whiskey bottle, and despite everything, everything Viktor should hate him for, there’s still part of him that cares.

“Jayce,” he says.

Jayce halts, just the same as he had that night - when you’d asked him to go, too - though, perhaps you’d had more pity than the vicious ire that Viktor is experiencing now.

“Come back in two days' time,” Viktor says. “Please.”

If you’re gone, Viktor doesn’t think he’ll be able to bury you alone. Just the thought of it has bile rising in his stomach, mixing in with the hunger until they almost feel the same. His emotions surrounding Jayce are… complicated, to say the least, but he at least knows that he won’t want to be alone, should the worst come to worst.

Jayce nods, turning back to look at Viktor for just a moment. His expression contains a multitude of things: grief, hope, pity. Regret, most of all.

Viktor wants to say more, but he can’t. He just… can’t.

Then Jayce is gone.

In his absence, Viktor doesn’t know what to do. Everything is so quiet - quieter than it should be, desolate silence without the sound of your footsteps, without the softness of your singing when you think he can’t hear, without your laughter and snark and everything else he’s grown to care for.

On the other hand, everything is much too loud.

The sound of Nox purring, the whoosh of your breath, in and out, in and out, in and out until it drives him mad. The wood creaking under his feet as he walks, his cane clicking on the floor, the wind - the chimes on the front porch, the chirping of crickets in the lawn, the croak of the hinges when he opens the lab door.

Too much. Too quiet. Too loud.

He resists the urge to cover his ears as he takes a seat, grip tightening on the table at the thought of blood, so hungry that he’s senseless, so irritable that it’s illogical.

The cure, Jayce had said. As if Viktor had a disease.

Sometimes he forgets that it’s the way most people see him, even though it’s all he’s ever known. You wouldn’t think that of him, would you? He’d been born a vampire. He’ll die one, too.

And how is he supposed to find a blood replacement like this, barely-awake, ravenous, so angry he can hardly think? Even on his best days, he’d failed - the replacement slipping further and further away from him.

But what choice does he have, at this point?

He can’t pretend any longer. You might not be coming back, and if you don’t, Viktor will either find this replacement or starve. The longer he goes without blood, the less coherent he’ll be, so, really, this is his only chance.

So he tries. He tries as hard as he possibly can.

He tries, because everything he’s ever known is on the line, and if he falls, who is there to pick it up? You, who might die with him? Jayce, who only knows the barest of details?

He tries for his mother, who’d held his hand as she passed, whispering his name. For his father, who’d always believed in him, despite all the odds. For you, and the life he dares to hope he’ll have in your company, rather than the agonizing solitude he’d come to know before you.

But he fails.

Again. And again. And again.

His eyes will barely stay open, but sleep still evades his grasp, even as he lays against the desk. And when he’s upright, his thoughts are scattered, and he’s hungry, so hungry that he wants to plant his face into his hands and weep.

And yet, still, he goes on - until he’s lost all semblance of time, fighting his drooping eyelids, chasing after his one promising lead.

It fails. Of course.

The liquid is bitter on his tongue, even more so than Jayce’s blood, so far from where he needs it to be that he doesn’t even know where to start. Even at the height of his progress, he’s still barely scratching the surface.

He’s going to die.

He was too late. Both of you are going to die, and it’s all his fault - because he hadn’t bitten you sooner, because he can’t find this fucking replacement, because he’d failed when it counted and now death will take the both of you.

His composure weakens enough to consider drinking from you once more. In an effort to halt his thoughts, he slams his fist on the desk.

Glass shatters under his fist. Bits of it go flying everywhere - shimmering, translucent shards scattering over the table. Immediately, blood starts flowing from his hand.

At this sight, Viktor is hit with the impulse to either cry or start rattling off every curse word he’s ever heard.

He chooses the latter.

Words he’d never used before come stringing from his mouth, hissed, strangled in his throat. He’s trying his best to clean things up, but it’s no use - everything he touches becomes smeared with blood.

When he picks up the replacement he’d been working on, his own blood drips steadily into it, and Viktor has to fight the urge to throw it across the room. He only barely manages not to.

When he’s composed himself, he heads to dispose of it, muttering out more curses. He’s just about to dump it. Then he halts.

Instead of going red - like his own blood - the mixture has gone pitch black. He may be half-asleep, but that’s nowhere near the reaction he’d expect.

“Interesting,” he murmurs, brow creasing as he observes it. It’s warm under his hand, too, and he’s at least conscious enough to know that it hadn’t been warm before.

There’s a brief moment where he pauses, holding it in his hand. Then, without another thought, he tilts it to his lips.

It’s sweet. Not as much as your blood, but better than Jayce’s, and better by far than animal’s blood. As soon as it hits his stomach, it satisfies. Dulls the pain of the hunger, and his aching joints, and even his leg.

Viktor could weep.

He drinks two mouthfuls of it, sloppily bandages his hand, then quickly writes down all of the ingredients that had been in the replacement prior to the blood. Then he drinks a little more, just until his stomach is satiated, and finally, he cries.

Not for long. Nothing more than enough to turn the skin under his eyes splotchy and pink, to relieve the amount of emotion that’s pressed itself into his lungs. Still, it lifts a weight off his chest.

Sheer, sweet relief.

Then he wipes up the remaining blood in the lab, changes his bloody clothes, and goes back to the living room.

You look better today. He’s sure of it.

That first night, when he’d bit you… you’d looked so far gone. It’d scared him beyond words, so afraid that he would lose you.

Now you radiate health.

This time, Viktor doesn’t doubt that you’ll return to him soon, just as he’d hoped you would those first two nights.

He places a gentle kiss on your hand, lays the blanket you’d made for him on the floor, and curls up next to you to sleep, propping pillows under his leg and head for comfort.

For once in his life, he’s not hungry.

─────────────────────────────

You’re five years old, staring at the ceiling in your room.

Loneliness and fear is all you’ve ever known.

There’s a new crack on the right wall. Cobwebs clutter in the corners, too high for you to reach. Most nights consist of nightmares about spiders.

Last night, you’d seen something you shouldn’t have.

It’d been late, yellow light streaming in under your bedroom door. Your father’s footsteps had stomped along the floors, louder than usual, and you could hear him yelling from the main room.

Your feet had been silent as you’d gotten out of bed, soft, hushed steps as you’d cracked open the door.

At first, you’d seen nothing.

You’d heard strange, angry words like bloodsucker and stake and vampire, but you didn’t quite understand them.

What you did understand, however, was the blood.

You’d seen it, red and pooling, when you scraped your knee.

Blood gives you life, Father had told you, bandaging up your knee with cotton and linen and honey. Don’t lose too much.

Now it sat on your father’s hands, stained into his shirt like the bright red candies at the store you were never allowed to have.

You didn’t understand death then, but you understood enough to know that you’d get in trouble if he caught you. You were quick to shut the door, heading back to your bed.

But your clumsy legs were what gave you away, rattling against the toys near the foot of your bed, the sound echoing horrifically in your ears.

There was silence. Then the footsteps headed toward you.

You dived into your bed in an instant, flinging the sheets over you, heartbeat thundering in your chest as the door flew open.

“What did you see?” your father asked, voice frighteningly calm.

You didn’t know whether or not to tell the truth. You had a feeling he already knew, though.

“Blood,” you whispered. “Did you get hurt?”

“No.”

Your father had shifted from foot to foot.

“I stopped something bad from hurting other people,” he said. “A vampire.”

“What’s that?”

“They’re monsters. They bite you,” your father said. “Don’t ever let one bite you.”

“Why? Will it hurt?”

Your heart had calmed by then.

“Yes,” came his reply. “More than anything. Like a knife in your throat.”

And he’d gone, then, leaving you with the nightmares that would haunt you for the next decade.

You’re five years old, trembling and paralyzed in your bed, scared of a vampire stealing your blood.

Then you’re eleven, and your parents are boarding up your windows. To keep you safe. To keep the monsters out.

You’re fifteen, keeping the company of a werewolf who smiles at you like you mean something. You sneak out of your window to see him, spend warm summer days wrapped in his arms.

Part of you thinks you might love him, if you’ve ever known what love really is.

You’re fifteen, and he’s gone. Maybe forever, if you’re unlucky. More than anything in the world, you hate your parents. They have never really loved you.

You’re sixteen, and you’ve run away, and all you feel is a giddy relief. You aren’t scared of their monsters anymore. The streets have become your friends, and your parents are your enemies.

You’re grown. Years have passed, you’re older and wiser, and your parents are buried six feet under. Taken by the very thing that would soon take you.

Should take you.

But when you’re on the verge of death, liquid rattling through your lungs, a vampire you truly love bites you, and it doesn’t hurt.

Not at all.

Warm. It feels warm.

The honey-like sweetness of venom heats you from the inside out, coursing through your veins with a blissful peace. It melts away all your grief, your fear, your pain.

All the world fades away into nothing at all, and the only thing you know is warmth and bliss and home.

After all, is there any greater pleasure than the relief of pain?

Not to you. Not while you’ve been living through nothing but pain all your life, and it’s finally stopped.

Viktor has stopped biting you, but your eyes are closing before you have any say.

They do not open for several days.

It’s dark here, wherever you are - peaceful, silky, like swimming through a pond in the moonlight. Every thought you have trickles through you, then dissolves away in ripples of silver and warmth and calm.

You hear Viktor call out to you once or twice, but you’re not whole yet.

It’s as if a part of you knows that - like the water is sewing you together limb by limb, and if you go too early, you’ll never be whole.

Still, you miss him in your sleep. You dream of golden eyes and soft lips against yours, his hand tracing over your brow.

Days pass. Your muscles go stiff, and your eyes crust, and your hair tangles. Even now, there’s a small voice in your mind that calls you to let go.

To sleep forever.

To release all the pain you’ve felt and will feel, for the rest of your life. To retreat to peace.

Fuck off, you tell it.

You didn’t come all this way for nothing. You’re determined not to leave Viktor behind if you have a choice. After all, there’s still so much of him to memorize. So many days to spend together, and all you have to do is be patient a little longer.

By the time you finally wake, you’re completely disoriented.

You’d been planted against the wall when he’d bitten you, but you’re on your back now, buried in blankets and pillows, and desperately hungry.

As you shift around, trying to wake your creaky muscles, you find that there’s a weight planted on your legs. Nox. You can hear him purring into the blankets, his paws kneading your calves, and his yellow eyes fixed steadily on you.

You open your mouth to speak to him, but all that comes out is a croak. You’re parched, and you’ve never wanted water more in your entire life.

Your mouth feels like it’s filled with sand. In fact, your entire body feels like it’s filled with sand, and it’s unsettling. Every time you move, the world spins around you.

Your chest feels more like lead than sand, actually. It’s as if there’s a thick weight on your lungs, and it has you panicking. You’re still able to breathe, but there’s a difficulty to it.

It dawns on you that your lungs may not be fully healed yet.

Viktor, you think. Where is Viktor?

When you roll away from the wall and to your left, gently forcing Nox off your legs, you find your answer. Viktor is asleep on the floor next to you.

He’s buried into the blanket you’d made him, nestled against two pillows, the sound of his breathing soothing. His chest rises and falls, and in your groggy, sleep-riddled brain, it takes you a moment to realize he’s asleep.

You’ve never seen him asleep.

He looks less put together than you’ve ever witnessed, clothes rumpled, hair disheveled, and a bandage clumsily wrapped on his right hand. Under the cotton wrappings, you can see a tinge of red.

You’re tempted to wake him up, but the deep bags under his eyes tell you not to. You can wait for water and food.

Drowsiness is pulling at you again, too. Everything in your brain is clouded, shifting around, and none of it makes sense.

Viktor bit me, you determine. And… I’ve been asleep.

Those are the only things that you can conclude for certain.

You manage to fight off your exhaustion for a long while, not wanting to return to the deep abyss of sleep, but with the silence, it eventually becomes too much. You give in, laying your head back on the pillow.

You don’t dream.

Under your eyelids, there’s only black, only silence. Then your ears register Viktor moving and you stir back into consciousness.

“Viktor?” you ask softly, fighting off the dregs of sleep.

“I’m here,” he confirms. It’s balming to hear his voice again. “Tell me what you need.”

Your eyes open, and you find Viktor sitting next to you, his hand placed on your forehead.

You shift, and this time there’s no weight on your legs. Still, they have not been used in days, and they scream in protest at the motion.

Giving a groan, you push yourself upright and lean into Viktor’s chest. His arms immediately wrap around you, pulling you close to his sternum.

“How long have I been out?” you ask, voice gravelly from nonuse, listening to the steady thud of Viktor’s heart beneath your ear.

“That depends on what time it is,” Viktor murmurs, sleep slurring his words. He shifts, pulling a pocket watch from his trousers. “Five days, now. I must have, eh… slept the whole day.”

“Five days?” you echo.

Jesus.

“You must be hungry,” Viktor says. “And thirsty. I fed you and gave you water, but…”

He trails off, his hand coming around and above you to pinch at the bridge of his nose. You can feel him sigh under you.

“You were asleep.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be gone that long.”

He just shakes his head, a motion you can feel as you’re attached to him.

“Don’t be. How are you feeling?”

You shift again, and your body radiates pain.

“Awful.” You crack a smile that he can’t see, swallowing hard. “You?”

“I… am surprisingly not,” he says. “I’ll get you water.”

He pulls away from you, grabbing his cane, and heading into the kitchen.

You try to follow after him, already missing his warmth, but it doesn’t go well. As soon as you move your leg to push upright, it buckles under you and you find yourself pressed to the cold wooden floor again, the world spinning so much that you have to place a hand on the wall and shut your eyes.

After a moment, Viktor’s finger places itself under your chin, lifting your face toward him.

“Drink,” he says.

You find a glass of water placed to your lips, and it’s immediately so heavenly that you’re swallowing mouthfuls, caught between trying not to choke and never wanting to stop drinking. When the glass is empty, you gasp for air, somehow still thirsty, water dripping down your mouth. Clumsily trying to wipe it dry, you find that your arms are shaking and don’t want to lift much higher than your shoulders.

Viktor hums as he observes your condition, setting the glass near your feet.

“You might need more venom,” he mumbles, running his thumb over your neck. The same place he’d bitten you those five days ago. “To fully heal, that is.”

He settles down next to you.

“I’ll give you food first, but… how would you feel about that?”

“Yes,” you manage. “Please.”

The next hour is a blur. You’re fighting off nausea and dizziness, somehow entwined with the sensation of hunger, and you can barely open your eyes. The longer you go on, the worse the sunlight feels - blinding, giving you a pounding headache.

By the time it’s done cooking, you don’t want it anymore, but you eat it for Viktor’s sake. Each bite feels painful - an ache in your jaw, the grinding of your teeth. It tastes like dust on your tongue.

When your plate is empty, you feel so nauseous that you’re clenching your fist in the blankets, trying to focus on keeping your breathing even.

Then Viktor asks for permission to bite you once more, tells you to relax once you’ve given it, and places his hand on your neck. After a moment, gentle warmth slowly returns.

The bite.

You relax under his mouth, every muscle going limp, like clay under a potter’s hand. Then you return to sleep.

The next time you wake, you feel like you’ve never felt before.

Whole.

When you move, nothing hurts. Nothing spins. Your eyes aren’t crusted, and your hair has been tended to. The only thing unchanged is your clothes, wrinkled from sleep, in the same state they’d been since Viktor bit you. You feel a little dirty, but aside from that, not bad.

In fact, when you push up out of the blankets, you feel strong.

Healthy.

You find Viktor in the kitchen, reading a book at the table. He looks much better than he did the other day, eyes bright, cheeks glowing with life in a way you’ve never seen. The bandage has been changed and dressed better, but there’s a new one clumsily wrapped around the left index fingertip. When he notices you’re awake, he gives you a smile.

“Morning,” you greet him.

Or at least, you think it’s morning.

“Afternoon,” he corrects you. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” You try out your legs, and find that they hold you this time. “Really good. You?”

“Never better.”

He sets the book down, holding out a hand to you. Your feet are steady as they move you toward him, your hand entwining with his as he observes you again.

“How long have I been out this time?” you ask.

“Two days.”

His eyes are piercing on you, but they hold not an ounce of criticality. Only admiration. Sheer relief, encased in shining gold.

You want to shy away from them, but choose to sit in the chair next to him instead.

“A week,” you say. It’s been a week since he bit you.

“Yes,” he confirms. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

You shake your head, grimacing as you process the clothes you’re wearing. The fabric is spattered with the blood you’d been coughing up, riddled with grime and muck from the snow and your trip to the shed. Jayce had been dragging you, too, and…

Jayce.

“Has…”

You’re not sure exactly how to phrase it.

“Does Jayce know I’m alive?”

“He does.”

Thank God.

“I think I’m going to take a bath,” you say, rising from your seat. “Then we can talk more about… everything?”

“I’d like that.”

The bath is heavenly. If you’d been feeling amazing since you’d woken up, there’s nothing comparable to the sensation of getting clean. No pain. No coughing. No dizzy spells as you move, or aching, or dread.

No lurking odor of the death that had come so close to taking you, that had weighed on you for months on end like chain shackles.

You feel light as a feather, floating around in a state of disbelief.

It still doesn’t feel real. Any of it. The market, the trip to the shed, the bite. What Viktor had said that night.

Maybe it never will, but only time will tell. For now, you’re intent on getting yourself situated with your new reality, and figuring out what happened to Viktor while you were asleep.

When you return to the main room, you find Viktor in the same spot, tugging mindlessly at the larger bandage on his right hand.

“What happened?” you ask, taking a seat next to him, motioning to his hand.

Viktor’s eyes flit away from you for a moment, his hand immediately pulling itself out of your view. Then he meets your gaze.

“I found the replacement.”

At first, you don’t know what he means. Replacement? Then it clicks, and you’re practically beside yourself.

“You did?” You’re immediately reaching out, placing a hand on his shoulder, watching his tentative smile slowly grow. “How - how do you know it works?”

His smile immediately sours, and this time, he won’t meet your gaze at all.

“I didn’t take enough blood from you,” he says. “I… had to improvise.”

You’re able to translate the true meaning behind his words easily enough. He hadn’t taken enough blood from you when he’d bitten you, and with you asleep for so long, he’d had to turn to other methods.

Your stomach sinks, anxiety pooling in your chest.

He must have been starving. He must have been desperate.

“What’s in it?”

He’s still hesitant, absentmindedly thumbing through his book with his left hand.

“A number of things,” he starts. “Herbs. Chemicals.” He pauses, then lets out a reluctant sigh. “My blood.”

Well, that explains the bandages, you suppose.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “That I was out so long, and-”

“-No,” he cuts you off. “It was my fault. I was… afraid of myself. Afraid I’d hurt you, even though I can’t. I didn’t take enough.”

You’re not exactly convinced that he was the one in the wrong, but you’re mostly just relieved that he’s okay, and that, well, he’d found the thing he’d been looking for his whole life. That he hadn’t given it up for you, and that he wouldn’t be dependent on you, something you know he’d hate.

“I’m just happy you’re alright,” you tell him. “But those bandages are a mess. Mind if I help?”

He looks down at his hands in surprise, then back to you. After a moment, his smile slowly growing, he holds them out to you.

“I have some supplies on the counter,” he says, motioning with a nod of his head.

You head for the supplies - honey, gauze, linen - and immediately return to him to begin your gentle cleaning and redressing of the wound. His skin is soft under yours, callused palms and fingers, and you can swear that his breathing quickens the moment you touch him.

The larger bandage hides a nasty-looking cut on Viktor’s right palm. Not enough for stitches, but it surely can’t feel very nice. He winces as you clean it but sighs in relief as you press honey-soaked gauze to it, and seems pleased when you’ve finished wrapping it up.

His left finger is in much better shape. It’s a tiny pinprick you almost can’t see, and you take care not to bandage it too much, lest you should restrict motion.

Then, in a sheer moment of impulsivity, you press a kiss to his hand.

His lips part in surprise, and his cheeks flush a dusty pink, and he’s never looked more beautiful.

There’s something about the fact that you’re not dying anymore that has ungodly thoughts running through your mind, has you stretching your fingers down the length of his arm to feel him shudder under your touch, has you wanting more than you’ve ever wanted before.

Viktor seems to feel similarly as he reaches out for you, pulling you into his lap, minding his bad leg as you gently ghost your lips down his neck. He lets out a soft, breathy moan that has heat spiraling through you, and only once you’ve reached his clavicle do you come to a stop.

You’ve… never done this before. You’ve only kissed, really, and Viktor is one of the two people that’s ever done that with you.

You’re just debating whether or not you want your first time to be on a chair in the living room when a knock sounds at the door. Instantly, you’re flying out of Viktor’s lap, cheeks heating as if someone had just caught the two of you doing something you weren’t supposed to.

“I’ll get it,” Viktor says, smoothing down his shirt.

You unabashedly watch him head to the door, trying to look presentable as Viktor opens the door to find Jayce standing on the porch.

“Hey,” he says. “How is she?”

Then his eyes find you and he grins, his smile faltering a little as he looks back to Viktor.

Viktor just opens the door to let him in. Jayce enters, and you’re suddenly being crushed into a bear hug, laughing and trying not to suffocate.

“You have no idea how glad I am to see you’re okay,” Jayce tells you, releasing you back onto the floor, hands fixed on your shoulders. “No idea.”

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “I shouldn’t have told you to go.”

Jayce’s smile tightens a little at the memory, but he just shakes his head.

“I get it.”

He lets you go to rub the back of his neck, then beams at you more.

“I wouldn’t really know what to do in that situation. I’m just… glad Viktor was there to help.”

Your eyes dart back to Viktor, who doesn’t seem to know how to feel about this state of affairs. You flash him a smile which he weakly returns.

“Me too,” you tell Jayce.

Jayce follows your gaze over to Viktor, fixing on his bandages.

“What happened to your hands, Vik?”

Viktor immediately looks away, the tip of his ears going red.

“It was a… lab accident,” he mutters, suddenly taking a keen interest in the books on the table.

You don’t know why Viktor isn’t telling Jayce the full story, but it doesn’t seem your place to correct him. Instead, you paste on a smile and try not to look at Jayce, who doesn’t seem to have noticed anything amiss.

“Yeah?” he asks. “I’ve had my fair share of those.”

“Yes,” Viktor answers distantly. “I remember.”

There’s a beat of silence before Jayce shrugs, pulling you in for another hug.

“Alright,” he says, letting go. “I’d better get home. Liam just got a little toy bow and arrow - the ends aren’t sharp, of course, but he’s wreaking havoc anyway. I just… wanted to check in.”

“Thanks, Jayce,” you tell him. “Have fun with the kid.”

“I will.”

He stops at Viktor, seeming to debate something for a moment, then pulls him into a hug, too.

Viktor looks very surprised at this, but not angry. If anything, it seems to soften him.

“Yes,” he says. “Have fun with, er… Liam.” He pats Jayce on the back awkwardly.

“Thanks!” Jayce says. “I’ll - come back later, okay?”

Both of you watch him leave, relaxing once he’s gone.

“Well,” you say. “What now?”

Viktor seems to consider for a moment, then his eyes widen.

“We need to get to the lab,” he says.

“Why?”

“Because tonight is a full moon,” he replies. “Those blossoms will be getting ready to bloom. I’ll get dinner started, and then - we should head in.” ─────────────────────────────

Several hours later, the two of you find yourself waiting anxiously in the lab, watching the plant. Nox has been put to bed for the night, and you and Viktor are sitting side to side.

You’ve finished your dinner, but Viktor hasn’t touched his plate. Maybe because he’s been so focused on observations, jotting things down in his notebook, rearranging the pot under the window for the best exposure of moonlight.

He’s been chatting excitedly about it for hours, telling you all sorts of facts about it, and you very honestly couldn’t be happier. You’ve waited for months to see this.

With the entrance of spring, the sun is taking longer to set, and it’s a good amount of time before the velvet blue of night comes. Then follows the moon with her silvery light, encasing the ground, shining over the pot.

At first, nothing happens. Your heart sinks in your chest.

Then, very slowly, the buds begin to unfurl.

You watch in awe as their petals untangle, opening toward the light, stretching themselves out into beautiful silver-tinted blossoms. Under the moon, they almost seem to glow - a glittering, incandescent light that seems to come from their very core, flooding the room with a soft radiance.

When you look to Viktor, you find his eyes already fixed on you, watching your reaction. He’s bathed in the same silver, eyes glimmering in the light, a soft smile pressed to his lips.

“They’re beautiful,” you murmur, a reverent hum in the room.

You’re almost worried that if you speak too harshly, the flowers will go back to their original state - withering away into the soil.

“They are.”

To your surprise, he plucks a bloom from the vine and twirls it between his fingers.

“When I first saw this happen,” he starts, voice low and warm, “I thought that nothing could ever compare.”

Reaching out to you, he places the blossom behind your ear, running his thumb over your cheek. Your face goes warm, leaning into his touch.

“I was wrong. You are more beautiful, by far.”

And before you can turn into nothing but soft dough in his hands, under the soft glow of the moon, he kisses you.

You’d thought the relief of his bite was the greatest pleasure you could ever know. It had been so sweet, that it seemed nothing could ever compare.

You were wrong.

Healthy, warm, and loved, you find the truth in his lips.

tags: @modernamilf @mischievous-piltovian @yeehawbvby @dianounais @avid-main @stararctic @doctorho @mello-jello29 @arcane-is-life @am-3-thyst @thefiasco-onyourblock @glowstick-cafe @orangechickenpillow

#arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x you #viktor x reader #viktor x reader arcane #viktor #mywriting

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twinklelilstarkey · 2 years

Text

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 {𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟖}

Words: 6.3k+

Summary: Stuff does not go according to plan and you're not ready to put everything at stake.

Warnings: No Spoilers! Rich people being their privileged selves. Fem!Reader [no descriptions of race or body type]. Bad family relationships. Mentions of smoking. Usage of the term "Y/N" (once). Pure angst.

Parts: Prologue, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine [Series Masterlist]

The tall glass twirls in your fingers elegantly. Your newly made nails match with the darkness of the red liquid inside - the wine your father chose with such care. You keep your eyes on your hand as you play with your glass, not wanting any kind of attention from your parents, who sit by you in soft conversation.

The family tradition continues with your weekly dinners. Your mother has supposedly found this new restaurant in the city. It is quite elegant and, interestingly, mostly kept to its outside. Which, you have to admit, is quite risky to do in such a rainy city as Gotham. Its tables and chairs, all areas of service really are outside in between all the nature that they offer.

The day was dry and the skies were clean for the most part, which works as total luck for tonight’s dinner. The night has been calm and only carries a nice breeze as well, which is actually the only thing that keeps you grounded as you daydream at any chance you get.

Your heels rest over the wooden flooring on top of the soft grass. Wooden planks are lined up and fill the rest of the outside, leaving only a few areas surrounding you, far from the tables, with the pure green cut grass. The garden also seems to be an essential part of the restaurant, as every plant and flower is well kept and well taken care of. All sorts of colors, and cut in ways that make all of it seem natural to the naked eye.

There are golden lights hung over your heads across the whole patio. They are attached to the trees and posts on the sides, leaving soft lighting over everyone’s tables. They make the food shine perfectly and leave a soft atmosphere around you all.

It has been 2 weeks since your night in the diner and the conversation with your mother. You have been fighting your mind as you promised yourself to do. But, as predicted, you have grown tired of making your mind wander to other things anytime his face appears. It always feels stronger than you. Even though you keep on fighting it, you find it constantly winning.

You have come to a point of forcing yourself to stop looking into the darkness expecting him to be there, or be at dinners and looking around in hopes of finding him at all. He is not there, but if he is, you’re not expected to care. And even when you can very much always assume that it is, you act as if he is not.

You sometimes wonder if Bruce would notice your somewhat distance. That question sets in the nights before bed when you’ve had enough of the constant fighting with your mind. In those nights that you let it win, in fact. And the truth is that it's not like you two have had much time together. Therefore, you can’t help but be curious to know if he would even notice how you don’t want anything to do with him anymore. And, if so… Would he even care?

You shake your head in dismissal of your own thoughts and raise your gaze, still waiting for your last course of the meal before dessert. You listen as your parents continue to share words in soft mumbles and notice their quite good-humored expressions.

Work has calmed down for the past 2 days, which has come as a great relief.

You had a few stressful days with the new business partners, who seemed to change their minds on everything every second since you signed the contract with them. So, after a much more stressful meeting with them, you didn’t hesitate on terminating their contract.

Much to their shock, if you remember correctly. Your workers in the room didn’t blink an eye as they expected it to happen sooner or later; while the two CEOs fought for words out of their mouths. You can only assume their pride began to get stuck in their throats after all of it. And it was nothing but entertaining to watch at some point.

With this sudden change of plans, you got calls. A whole day and night in the office answering calls while pacing around the room and you got a new contract signed. It's with a company which was “happy to hear about your disconnection” from the previous one. This new company has been one of their rivals, of course.

That was all yesterday, just in time to get your parents in a good mood for tonight’s dinner.

You let go of your glass, tired of moving it around, and look around the tables. You wonder if your family has known about this restaurant for a long time because it seems quite packed. You don’t think you can see any table that is empty and for a restaurant as expensive as this one, you really can’t see it as new to the city.

Almost as if your father read your mind, you hear his question to your mother, asking about how she had found the place.

“I had some extra time during lunch today and began to research restaurants. I was growing tired of the last one.” She says before sipping some of her wine, “I found it quite easily, actually.”

“Strange.” Your father comments and you look at him, “Why would your assistant never mention it?”

“I asked her.” Your mother nods, “She said some nonsense about some people that ‘I might not be a fan of’ having a dinner here some months ago.”

“Months ago?” Your father says with a chuckle in between words.

“I know…” Your mother says with a bright smile, “Quite weird that one.”

Your father shakes his head humorously and looks over at you as a reflex. He offers you a smile when he sees you looking, to which you offer a short one in return. You look away, to not hold his stare for too long and have to begin a conversation, and notice some waitresses leaving the main building.

The main building is obviously connected to the patio part of the restaurant, yet it only serves the purpose of holding the queue of those that wait for tables without reservations, the kitchen, probably some staff rooms, and, of course, the grand entrance. One that with just a mere look, you could tell how many digits the dinner will end at.

One of the waitresses you have seen walk out of the building gets to your table and with her bright smile, she begins to put down your next course in front of you. Everyone, even your mother, thanks the worker before she leaves and she is quick to go back to the kitchen.

Your parents eat happily, and it doesn’t go unnoticed to you how dinner is still empty from any negative critiques. Something that can only be a true sign of their absurdly good mood.

“I heard the Hale’s are thinking of making an event.” Your mother says, breaking the silence.

“They must enjoy wasting money.” Your father tells her, making her smirk, “Didn’t they have a dinner just a few weeks ago?”

“They did.” You enter the conversation, getting their attention.

“Was it as bad as when I used to go?” Your father jokes and you smile at him.

“Lasted until 1, so you can only imagine.” You tell him and even your mother smiles at that.

The sight of the light air between everyone at the table makes it almost easier to breathe for you. It reminds you of your dinners with them when you were younger. They were always like this at that time. Light and fun.

It has been quite a while since you have felt like this with them. You can only assume that it is ever since business became a theme at the dinner table.

“Does she still have that horrible dining table?” Your mother asks you.

“Sure does.” You tell her, ignoring the way your heart sped up at her words, “She uhm…” You get lost a little in your thoughts, but you clear your throat to mask it, “She also apologizes for every time someone kicks another person.”

Your mother lets out a laugh at that and you smile down at your plate proudly.

“She is still the same, I see.” Your father says with a smile, influenced by your mother’s laughter, “Your mother gave me quite the bruises on my shins.”

“Oh, honey, please.” Your mother tells him, “I promised they were all accidents.”

Your father gives you a look as if for you not to believe her, and you laugh at him for it. Your mother notices and smacks his arm playfully to make him stop.

You three eat in peace and your parents continue to talk about their experiences in the long nights at Hale’s penthouse. Continuing the theme of conversation light and humorous.

“But what is that event about?” Your father asks, “Charity again?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Your mother tells him, “They haven’t told much to the media from what my assistant told me this morning... It should be in a couple weeks, I believe.”

You finish the small course after your father, and your parents fall back on a comfortable conversation. You listen to their voices, trying to keep your thoughts under control and away from you while in public. You don’t quite listen to their words, but the sounds on their own, just to work as background noise to your night.

A family walks past your table as they abandon theirs. Your eyes follow the group of workers, who are quick to appear, clean everything and arrange the tables back to perfection. They do it so quickly that you almost find yourself in a trance.

Your parents continue to speak and you open your mouth to speak to your mother, as you find their theme of conversation slowly becoming interesting. But, as you do it, you notice how your father is not looking at either of you and is quite distracted looking at the main building of the restaurant. His interest in the conversation has been completely washed away from his face.

At first, you even chuckle thinking that he is simply waiting for his much-needed dessert, but your smile drops instantly at the sight of who he is staring at.

A waitress is walking out of the main building, menus in hand, and taking two men off to a vacant table. They follow her as she makes her way through the busy floor and one of those men is none other than Bruce Wayne. The other man, whom you’re not sure you’ve seen before, is much older.

Your mother is the next one to notice as soon as she sees that even her husband is looking. Her smile drops and her hold on her fork lessens. It is an immediate reaction as she feels the anger travel through her veins, consuming her.

The waitress continues to walk through the tables and she talks and smiles at the older man. Bruce stands beside him as he speaks, but he is silent. He seems to be listening in either way and you notice how he casually looks up once or twice to seem as if he’s still a part of the conversation that is happening around him.

You look away and look over at your mother, not wanting to seem too focused on him, but you find both your parents staring at him shamelessly.

Both Bruce and the man continue to come closer to your table and everyone near, at other tables, follows them with their eyes, intrigued.

The waitress stops at a table tangent to yours, one in your complete field of view.

The older man thanks the waitress verbally and she leaves the menus at the center of the table while the men take their seats. You decide to take another look since your family still seems focused on him, and your breathing heavies at the sight of Bruce so close to you.

You watch him say something to the older man, a quick answer to something you assume he either asked or commented previously to your staring.

Bruce looks away from the man and his gaze lifts naturally to the tables near him. Everyone, from table to table, looks away. Some change their gazes back to their tables to stare at their cutlery, while others look elsewhere near them, to seem as if they were never staring in the first place.

His eyes meet yours and your heart jumps at how sudden the movement is. You look away, still determined to do as you intend to, and Bruce looks at you for a while longer as confusion meets his brain first.

He can tell from where he sits the way your firm and serious expression is mirroring how it was weeks prior to today. His eyes move from you to your parents and that seems to make them snap back to reality.

You don’t see it happen but you notice how your father and mother are suddenly looking back to your table. They automatically stare at you and you see how your mother’s shoulders relax at the sight of you staring at the other side of the garden instead.

As silence sets, you notice how the light air around you has thickened and no one dares to open their mouths to add anything to the conversation you were having before.

A waitress unexpectedly comes to your table and collects your plates. And this time, only you thanked her. Due to the silence, you find yourself going back to playing with your glass. There is no conversation for you to focus on, only at other tables near you, yet none of them helps you calm down.

You stiffen in your seat. You don’t want to be caught staring, it will only worsen everything further.

“You think this is who my assistant told me about?” Your mother asks your father.

Her voice almost comes as a surprise to you. You didn’t expect her to be the one to break the silence. Especially when, according to her tone alone, her previous good mood has evaporated and left her angrier than before.

“Might have been.” Your father answers, voice deep with his eyes also focused on his wine glass.

You look up at them, wanting to seem present in the conversation as they restart it. Yet you’re quick to notice how the two of them are going nowhere with their words. You stare at the two for a little bit longer, waiting and waiting for something, but nothing comes.

Your mother lifts her gaze from the napkin she was just adjusting over her lap, and her eyes meet yours. She doesn’t say anything or even expresses anything with the look on her face, and, due to your discomfort, you look away.

She didn’t like that.

“Did you know about this?” She asks.

You lift your eyes back to her and stop twirling the glass in your hand. A look of confusion washes over your face.

“Me?” You ask her, shock obviously thick on your tone.

“Yes.”

You give her a total look of disbelief and her eyes stare back into yours. In only a quick matter of time, you notice how her stare begins to turn into a glare. You look at your father for some sort of help, but he too is looking at you and not saying a thing.

“Of course not.” You say without hesitation. “How could I have known?”

Your mother doesn’t answer you but, in some way, the glare towards you worsens. You look helplessly at your father again, but he does and says nothing to help you. You are left to do nothing but stare back.

Frustration grows in your chest as you do not know what to do with the accusation. The reality is that you have done nothing that could lead to this. Your mother had been the one that heard her assistant’s warning and decided to ignore it, not you. If that conversation had happened with you, you would understand their side much more. But you had never heard of such a restaurant, for heaven’s sake.

The stares and silence continue and they seem to have no end. You break their gazes quite a few times but it leads to nothing, as they offer you even more silence from your parents.

As frustration grows, Bruce happens to look up at your table in the midst of conversation. He notices the lack of looks towards your parents on your part and the silence that presents itself at the center of your table.

He has stopped looking at you ever since he arrived. It had been right as he noticed you are in the presence of your family, therefore, he didn’t see it fit to continue. But he doesn’t remember seeing such stares.

Still not wanting to be involved, Bruce’s eyes don’t come back to you again and all you do is continue to look at your parents. Your hands by your lap have grown sweaty once more, and fear, as well as some sort of anger, appears underneath your skin.

“I didn’t know anything.” You tell your mother sincerely, “Why do you find it so hard to believe me?”

“I want to believe you.” Your mother tells you, “But you haven’t given me reasons to do it. The last thing our family needs on such a day of celebration is more rumors circling around.”

“And you think I want that?” You ask her, “The rumors hurt me as much as they do you, if not more.”

This is when your father sees fit to enter the conversation.

“It is a family business.” Your father decides to tell you.

You’re quick to answer him.

“A family business that I run.” You emphasize the word.

The two fall silent and you hold your own shaking hands as frustration continues to grow more and more. Your voices have been kept quiet the whole time and have not gathered any sort of attention from anyone around you, thankfully.

You look away from them out to the garden beside you and that seems to break the glares of your mother and the looks of your father. The two of them notice how you do a slight shake of the head in disbelief and, at least your father, feels some sort of guilt forming in his chest.

(...)

As the bill finishes being paid by your father at the table, you keep silent and your eyes low. You and your mother rise from your chairs in the uninterrupted silence between the three of you.

You adjust the burgundy dress over your body and adjust the chair back into place. You look up to find your mother saying a few words to your father as he also begins the stand from his chair.

You start to walk around the table, following the waitress that will be taking you to the door, and you’re the first to notice how she begins to make her way towards Wayne's table. Your parents seem to follow after you silently, and you move along with the waitress.

Much to your own disappointment, your eyes move from the waitress to the table beside her, and, to no one’s surprise, your eyes automatically meet Bruce’s. His face doesn’t say anything, as it never does in public, and he stares back into you.

You’re not masking any of your emotions, and he isn’t even sure which one to look upon first.

You step into the building after much walking and you hold in your emotions for a bit longer. You see the (still) very long line of people waiting for their dinner and the waitress stops walking. Your parents are the ones to make conversation with her, but you’re not quite in the mood for it.

“I’m going home.” You whisper to your father.

He pulls out of the conversation to stare at you and give you a nod.

You don’t hesitate before turning your back without any kind of goodbyes and make your way through the long entrance. As you get to the doors, you almost want to laugh out loud because there is no way your day could be any worse. The media is here.

They must be around 7 paparazzi, if not less, but they’re all talking to security, some of them even looking apologetic.

You consider going back to ask to leave through the back door, but going back to where your parents stand isn’t on your list of plans for the rest of the night. Let alone in a few more days, you don’t even know if you’d like to see them then.

You walk through the doors and you seem to gather some attention. Some of the paparazzi begin to snap pictures of you and others are simply filming. You do your best to ignore them as you try to find where your driver is.

“We were told Mr. Wayne is inside the restaurant! Is it true?”

“Did you speak to him?”

“Did you celebrate with him?”

Are you even surprised to hear any of these questions? No. Of course not. Not even the workers of a restaurant are able to escape any kind of possible drama. Sad that they don’t prefer to leave it to their eyes only and had to call reinforcements.

You find your driver just mere feet away from you. None of the men by the door seem to even try to get close to you, close in around you, and do anything remotely stupid in front of security. Much to your relief.

They continue to ask their bunch of questions as you walk to the car, and you keep your eyes focused on your driver. He’s just outside, leaning against the front with his two hands by his mouth. A sudden small flame illuminates his two palms as you continue to walk towards him.

At the sound of your heels, he turns to look over his shoulder and breathes out the smoke. He moves his hand around his face to try and hide it in the wind and does the motion to drop the cigarette to the floor, but you stop him. You outstretch a hand his way and shake your head before speaking.

“Please, finish it.” You tell him, “I’ll stay in the car.”

He thanks you and you open the door after he unlocks it quickly with his key. You sit in and shut the door beside you, leaving the people outside to stare at nothing but a blacked-out window in the night.

You let out a shaky breath as you look out of the window. Your frustration is getting the best of you. You stare as your parents walk out of the restaurant and are bombarded with questions as well while they walk hand in hand to their car.

You lean the side of your head on the cold glass and close your eyes, taking in various deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

Minutes go past and you enjoy the silence and lack of company in the car. You reopen your eyes and stare out to the entrance of the restaurant, where the camera-holders stay in conversation with each other.

The driver’s seat door swings open, causing you quite a fright that goes unnoticed by your driver. He sits in his seat and gives you a pleasant greeting, and an extra apology for being caught smoking. You dismiss it.

He says a few more words before starting the car and your eyes go back to the entrance, noticing the wave of flashes restarting. Bruce is walking out with the man he walked in with.

They keep walking, also being asked the questions, and, together, they walk to some of the cars parked to the left.

Security intervenes as the paparazzi try to follow them in the direction of the cars, and you notice as they say a few words to each other and go separate ways. The older man walks to one car while Bruce to another.

Your driver begins to take the car out of the parking spot, and the moving headlights catch the attention of both of the men.

They cannot see anyone since your driver has every window tinged dark, but your heart still tightens at how Bruce’s eyes stay for a second longer before you’re out of sight and going in the direction of your home.

(...)

The drive to your home should not be longer than 20 minutes with traffic, but you didn’t fail to notice how, at the 5-minute mark, two headlights of a familiar car take the exact same exits as yours does.

You don’t say anything to your driver, as you do not want to worry him, but, for the rest of the ride, all you feel is anger.

“Could you leave me at the back, please?” You ask your driver.

“Of course, ma’am.”

The final turn is done, and you undo your seatbelt. You notice how Bruce does not seem to be stupid enough to take the turn right as you do, and, right as the car stops, you begin to make your way out.

With a quick wish of goodnight and a look of fake good humor on your face, you shut the door and your driver makes his own way home.

Almost 2 entire seconds later, Bruce’s car comes into view. You take a deep breath, wanting nothing but to scream as tonight has felt nothing but exhausting.

All of it was perfect and now all of it is completely destroyed for something you weren’t even at fault for doing.

Bruce shuts his door and he stands feet away from you. You ignore your urge to stare at him for just a second and remind yourself of your situation.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, annoyance more than noticeable in your tone.

“You seemed upset.” He explains, “I just wanted to check on you.”

“So you followed me home?”

“Yeah.” He nods, “It’s not like I have your number or I can exactly walk up to you and ask if you’re alright while in public.” He says with a shrug, not understanding where all your annoyance is coming from.

“I’m fine, Bruce. You can go now.” You decide to tell him, not wanting to talk to him.

There’s some silence between the two of you and you begin to turn to face the backdoor of the building. You’re about to start walking towards it but his voice stops you.

“Did I do something?” He asks you with a hint of confusion.

You turn back to face him, and he hasn’t moved. He stands right by his car.

He knows he hasn’t done anything wrong. He has been going through the last days like any other day for the past years. You two didn’t talk, but he never saw it as anything new or different since you don’t do it regularly.

“Like what?” You ask, moving your hands by your sides.

“Something to annoy you. You definitely seem mad at me over something.” He tells you.

You stare at him and notice how, even without much movement, it’s almost as if your frustration has begun to rub off on him. He doesn’t seem as calm as when he made his way out of the car. He looks impatient.

“Just go home, Bruce.”

He doesn’t move, and neither do you. You sigh after much silence and look around for what is near you, almost as if to try to get a grip on yourself before continuing whatever is going on.

“You didn’t do anything. Now, can you go?” You ask him, pointing in the direction where he had just driven from. He still doesn’t move, almost as if not pleased with your answer, and senses that you are not telling him the truth. His lack of movement drives you further into your anger. “You’re so fucking infuriating.”

Your whispered words make Bruce’s heart skip a bit. He doesn’t know what he expected to hear, but he expected everything but that. You bring a hand over to your face as you say it, almost appearing as if it was supposed to be a comment to only yourself, and he wasn’t supposed to hear it.

“What did I do?” He asks.

“You need to go.” You simply tell him, taking the hand of your face and facing him, “You need to leave me alone.”

He takes a step towards you but he’s not sure why he does it. You take a step back in return. You don’t want to be near him and all he feels is confusion and guilt. Guilt over something he doesn’t even know he did.

“Why?” He finally asks.

“Because I cannot have you near me.” You reply, and outstretch your hand to point at him, “Every time you appear- Every time we’re together, everything falls apart. Everything good that I can have, that I built for myself, is always cut short because you are there.”

“Wha-”

“Bruce, just…” You bring your hands back to your face trying to keep yourself together, “Just go.”

“But I didn’t do anything.” He defends himself, “We haven’t even talked since last time.”

“And last time went so well, didn’t it?” You ask him, “Bruce we made it into the magazines, for fuck’s sake.”

“So what?” He asks confused, “They are magazines, no one important reads them, especially their rumors-”

“My family reads them.” You tell him, “They read everything that has my name on it, and I can’t have me being seen with you ever again.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt them.

“The story repeats itself, you know that. I’m having a lot of luck with my job right now. I don’t know why but I’ve been able to work and make advances in my work even after making a headline with you. I don’t know how long I have left until this luck runs out.” You continue, “It will happen again. People will see us and we will make it to the front page again. My business will be damaged. Just like the last time.”

“We were kids, last time.”

“They don’t care about that, Bruce.” You shake your head, “And it is not like now it’s any better… Do you know what could happen to me if people knew about what went on at Hale's house?”

He doesn’t answer.

“They will ruin me.” You tell him and you notice how your eyes begin to tear up, “I can’t have that happen. I need to work and focus on my work, and I can’t have you destroy that for me. Not again.”

“I didn’t fucking intent to do that on that last time.” He tells you with widened eyes and takes another step towards you, “We were kids. I didn’t want to talk to anyone-”

“I know tha-”

“Let me talk, for once!” He practically screams at you, “I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I hadn’t spoken to anyone for months, I didn’t like to be outside of the Manor. Y/N, I did not want to talk to people and, therefore, I wasn’t expecting you to come to me.”

You don’t say anything.

“I didn’t want to talk to anyone but I wanted to talk to you.” He tells you, much calmer now, “I just couldn’t do it. I tried to but I froze. I don’t know why but I wanted to talk to you and then, before I even realized it, you walked off.”

He takes another step towards you.

“I didn’t want any of that to happen.” He tells you softly, “I didn’t want you to walk off, or for anyone to make conclusions on what happened. I’m sorry for what happened after it, but I had no idea.”

You take a deep breath and stare him into his eyes.

“I get that, Bruce, truly, I do.” You tell him, “But I can’t let it happen again.”

“But-”

“You just don’t get it, okay?” You pause, “It’s different for you and me. People treat me differently than they do you. We’re different. I could work double the hours, and it wouldn’t even take half the time to destroy me the way it would destroy you.”

“It is not fair-”

“Fucking tell me about it.” You tell him, “Now, go home.”

The expression on his face is one that someone could read off as sadness, but you don’t even dare to stare at him for too long. You take a step back and begin to turn around.

“Please-”

“Just go the fuck home!” You shout at him. “I am tired of this, please, Bruce. Leave me the fuck alone!”

Your heart sinks at your own words and, now that you face him once more, you can read the obvious sadness in his eyes.

You always open your mouth to take back what you said and make everything better between you two but this time you don’t. And silence sets.

Bruce stares as you open your mouth but close it right after. His heart is set to a quick rhythm, but he feels how his hands have begun to shake. He stares into you but he almost feels like he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t exactly feel anger or anything, all he feels is disappointment at how this ended.

“You don’t get to do that.” He tells you.

“Do what?” You ask, “Look out for myself?”

“Selfishly? Yeah.” He answers with still an annoyed tone, “What about me in all of this? Everything that I’ve told you until now, you just completely ignored it and moved along. You are not even considering me.”

“Of course I am considering you!” You say louder. “God forbid I look out for myself and my business. But what will happen to you in all of this? And don’t you dare say nothing.” You point a finger at him, “After I begin to be hated by all of those that gave me my life for wanting to be near you, will you still be by me? Because you will be dragged right down too.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“Don’t you say those things!” You scream at him, “Bruce, our businesses are not compatible. Your partners will let you fall!”

“Is business all that you care about?”

“Bruce, just stop!” You tell him, and he steps closer, “Please, stop.”

“No.”

“Why do you care?!”

“Because I care about you!” He tells you, “I have cared about you so much, I can’t just stop doing it. Please, just let us try and find a way.”

“A way of what? A way of what, Bruce? We are nothing!” You dryly chuckle even when your heart continually aches, “All we’ve done was talk for 2 nights and sleep on 1. Nothing more. I don’t know why you care for me when there is nothing for you to care about.”

He stays silent, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Just, please, let me go now.”

“This is not just about business is it?” He asks.

“No.” You answer him, “Now, please, go home.”

He stares at you, and you fight the urge of letting all of your tears flow. You clench your jaw and turn away. He lets you, this time, and he doesn’t say anything, nor does he move.

You jump each step of the stairs to get to the backdoor. Hand on the handle, you find yourself waiting in silence for him to say something, even when you just asked him not to.

But he doesn’t say anything.

You open the door and pull it open, walking into the warm building.

Bruce stays back and he stares at the gray door for just a little longer, waiting for you to walk out again, even though you told him to leave. The door doesn’t move back no matter how much he hopes it does, yet Bruce just stands there.

You stand behind the door, unmoving, your hand still on the handle. You can’t understand why you do it as you were the one to rip your own heart out.

You find yourself reconsidering everything that you just told Bruce. You had to push him away. You had to. He will be fine.

The look on his face repeats in your mind time and time again, and your heart aches more with each second that passes. Your hand finally dips down, and you push the door open again. But as you face the street once more, he’s not there.

Bruce already drove away.

Did I break your heart? If so, I'm sorry. I'll put it back together eventually, promise <3

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armed-with-knitting-needles · 1 year

Text

I've got my first Phic Phight prompt done for the prompt: "someone sees Vlad transform, and when Vlad confronts them it goes better than expected" from @skellagirl

I had a lot of fun with this!

Ao3 link, then full fic:

Sheryl was having a good day. Her husband had given her new earrings that morning, FentonWorks brand, that were supposed to prevent ghosts from possessing her. Then she had made her grandmother’s sugar cookies, which had turned out just perfect. And, she had managed to avoid all the potholes from the latest ghost attack on her way to her afternoon shift at city hall. Things were nice.

She waved at Maureen as she made her way back past the reception desk into the staff offices. Maureen’s grandson’s baseball team was playing against the Centerville Marmots that afternoon, so Sheryl had agreed to take the last few hours of her shift. She figured she’d give her a batch of cookies, too. The boys would like that.

That probably meant she should give Mr. Masters his share before giving the rest to Maureen. She picked up a crisp plastic she’d already filled with four cookies and tied off with a Packers ribbon. It was always a good idea to be on good terms with the boss.

In general, Sheryl liked Mr. Masters. Sure he could be a little overly spirited when it came to dealing with the youth population, but that was just part of his charm. He really put his all into managing Amity Park and it showed. He’d put more funding into public infrastructure than the previous mayor, which was certainly nice. He’d also been able to talk FEMA around to giving them funding after some of the larger ghost attacks. Lord only knew how he managed that. When the last mayor had tried it, the town had been investigated for fraud and several years of improper federal income tax withholding had come to light. Shame about that. Shame about Sean from Payroll’s prison sentence, too.

But, the important thing was that Amity Park was getting FEMA relief now and Mr. Masters wasn't a half bad mayor. Really, the only problem Sheryl had with Vlad Masters was the fact that he responded to meeting invites with “tentative” and no further information, if he responded at all. It was a small gripe, but she would like to know if the mayor was available to discuss the budget or if she needed to reschedule. Ah well, no one was perfect.

She knocked on the mayor’s office door. There was muffled ranting coming from the other side. He must have brought his cat into work again, then. She knocked one more time for good measure, but if he didn’t want her barging in, he’d had plenty of time to say something.

“Hiya, Mayor Masters,” she said grinning widely while gently opening the door, “Sounds like ya might..”

Sheryl trailed off as her eyes grew wide and her grin dropped. Mayor Masters was, in fact, ranting at the cat on his desk, but something strange was happening to him.

He had dark rings forming around his waist. They split in the middle, one traveling up towards his head, one darting down towards his feet. Where they parted, his dark suit turned silver and his pale skin turned blue. In seconds, she was staring at a glowing apparition, floating nine inches above the wooden office floor. His cape fluttered in an imaginary wind. His hair tapered into two spikes that reminded Sheryl of that evil fairy from Sleeping Beauty. It was mesmerizing.

Sheryl swallowed hard. She got the distinct feeling that she should not have seen that, but what was she supposed to do in this kind of situation. Was this one of those things you mentioned to people or was it one of those things you just pretended never happened? She’d seen him change into a creature of horrible beauty. Did that follow the same protocol as accidentally seeing a coworker change clothes?

That would have to be close enough. She would just close the door and mention that he should probably lock it next time he needed to do something like that. No need to embarrass him by saying something now.

The door creaked as she started to close it and Sheryl winced. Mr. Masters didn’t notice,but Maddie the Cat launched herself off the desk towards Sheryl with a chirping meow. Cripes. Normally, she would be quite proud of her status of “favored by the feline”, but today it was just going to cause more problems.

Mr. Masters's eyes locked with hers as he turned to see where his audience was going. They stared at each other for a few awkward seconds that felt like an eternity. Maddie the Cat rubbed against Sheryl’s leg. Right. This is why she wanted to leave instead of saying anything. Why had she even gone in there in the first place? Oh. Right.

She cleared her throat and broke eye contact. “I brought cookies,” she said, praying this would be enough to break the awkward silence, “They’re lemon sugar.”

Mayor Masters continued staring at her, his expression somewhere between horror and deep discomfort. Sheryl could relate, but they had to be professional about this.

She cleared her throat again. It did not clear the tension from the air like she had desperately hoped. “I’m just going to leave these here,” she said, putting the cookies next to the door frame right inside the office.

There were a few more awkward seconds of staring.

“Right,” Sheryl cleared her throat, yet again, “I’m just going to go relieve Maureen. Her grandson has a game today, dontcha know?” More awkward silence. “Bye, hon.”

Sheryl breathed out as she closed the door with a click. She felt a pressure on her leg. Maddie the Cat had followed her outside the office. Darn it. The cat wasn’t allowed into the main part of city hall just in case someone had allergies.

She looked back at the door between her and the man she could only assume was imploding from embarrassment. Maybe Maddie would be okay out there with her in the lobby. Just for that day.

—

Forty-five minutes later, Mr. Masters pinged her on Skype.

“You can bring Maddie back to my office now.”

Sheryl stared at the message in quiet disbelief. That’s what he wanted to start with? The cat? Well, she supposed she couldn’t blame him. What were you supposed to do when something like that happened? Google had not been able to tell her, that was for sure.

She looked up. It was a slow Friday afternoon. Almost nothing ever happened on Friday afternoons. Surely, she could take a few minutes to go talk to the mayor.

“I’ll bring her right in,” she typed back before getting out the “Be Right Back” clock with movable hands and setting it for thirty minutes from now. That should be plenty long.

She grabbed Maddie the cat and marched into the office. It was now or never.

—

Vlad sent Sheryl a message on Skype, because what else was he supposed to do? He’d been trying to plan for the last forty-five minutes and it was getting him nowhere. He just needed to get this over with.

His idea had been simple. He just had to overshadow her and influence her thoughts enough that she wouldn’t tell anybody. That would work. Probably. Maybe.

Okay, so overshadowing didn’t work very well for influencing thoughts over long periods of time, or if the subject of influence was important. Vlad knew Sheryl. She was a very strong-minded woman and this was not something that she was going to forget easily. This wasn’t like a business deal where he just needed his victim to sign something in front of witnesses. It wasn’t like a vote that was a one and done action. No, just making her forget was a significant change that would need to be maintained over a long period of time. Overshadowing wouldn’t work for this.

He supposed at this point he would have to go for bribery and threats. That almost always worked. All he needed to do was offer her some money and remind her that he could destroy her life if she didn’t keep quiet. She was a part time employee of city hall in her late fifties. She had no power and no resources that would make her capable of taking him on. He’d make sure she knew it. And if she proved herself loyal, he’d make sure she was well compensated. He’d done that before for others, for less serious matters. It usually worked.

Usually.

If all else failed, he could make her disappear. That always worked. With his powers, he could truly make sure that no one ever found the body. He glanced at the little package of cookies with the Packers bow she’d left him.

He’d try bribery first.

There was a knock on his door and Vlad did not jump. Ah, yes, that must be her now.

“Please, come in,” he called from his desk.

The door creaked open slightly and Maddie the Cat trotted into the room. Right, yes, he’d used that as an excuse to call her over. He could see Sheryl just peeking into the room from behind the door. She was nervous. Lovely.

“Please, Sheryl, come in and have a seat.”

He watched her as she slowly made her way into the room, gently closing the door behind her. Good, she had enough sense to know that this had to be a private conversation. Perhaps this would be better than he had hoped.

Her earrings glinted in the light as she sat down and Vlad felt his heart sink. They were FentonWorks brand, a smaller version of the Specter Deflector that Jack and Maddie had put out on the market just last week. He had hoped too soon. She was prepared for this, prepared for him. No, that still might be a coincidence.

“I’m sure you know I didn’t actually call you in here because of the cat, Sheryl.” It was a neutral statement and one designed to let her do the talking. It would allow him to gauge how much she actually knew.

“Oh, yes,” Sheryl said nervously, glancing towards the closed windows of the office, “I figured you’d want to talk to me about accidently walking in on you.”

Vlad nodded. “Quite.”

“Well, I am sorry about that,” she said, her mid-western accent thickening as she spoke, “I certainly didn’t mean to invade your privacy like that, but I did knock.”

Vlad blinked. “What?”

“I knocked twice before coming in, dontcha know? But, you were so caught up in your rant that you didn’t even notice. I was hoping the cookies would cheer you up, since you were obviously in such a mood.”

Vlad did not know what to do with this. This was not what he was expecting.

“But then, when I opened the door, well, you were changing. You really need to make sure your door is locked when you're doing something like that, hon. Or at least say something if you hear someone knocking. I don’t know if it’s quite like changing clothes, but it isn’t a decent thing to do in public.”

Vlad spluttered. “It is not like changing clothes,” he said, trying to get a grip on the conversation, “I activated the ectoplasm in my cells. There is nothing indecent about it.”

Sheryl gave him a look that reminded Vlad strongly of the time he tried to convince his mother that it wasn’t technically underaged drinking because he was with his cousins and they were over twenty-one. “I don’t know anything about ectoplasm activation or anything,” she said, “but I do know that when you change, you do it behind closed doors and you lock those doors if you think anyone might open them.”

Vlad blinked again before resigning himself to… well, whatever this was. He laid his hands out in front of him, palms up. “You're right, of course,” he said, smoothly, “I really shouldn’t be doing something so private where just anyone can walk in.”

Sheryl nodded once, “I’m glad you agree.”

“And it is private,” Vlad pressed on, “Nobody can know that I can change like that.”

“Why not?” Sheryl asked in what Vlad could see was genuine curiosity. Of course. Sheryl was rather well known for sharing any and all information. Bribery wasn’t going to work if she couldn’t even figure out why this needed to stay hidden.

“Sheryl,” began Vlad, trying to figure out how to put this in a way that didn’t give her any more information than she already had, “What you saw me change into, it scares people. There are people out there, powerful, dangerous people, that believe that because I can change like that I am not human and I don’t have rights.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, dear. That’s terrible, Mr. Masters.”

Vlad nodded. “Yes, it is,” he leaned closer and made eye contact, “So, I would appreciate it if you kept this to yourself. If word got out, I could be removed from office and I don’t know if your position would survive the upheaval.”

It wasn’t much of a threat, but, with someone like Sheryl, anything bigger or more direct could do more harm than good. Besides, Sheryl seemed to have a soft spot for him. He could use that.

“No! They couldn’t do that. That would be discrimination.” Sheryl’s eyes held fiery determination and Vlad honestly did not understand how she could be that naive. He let a very real grimace show on his face.

“I’m an elected official, Sheryl,” he said in a voice that was almost soft, like he was telling a hard truth, “I don’t have those kinds of protections. People can vote me out for any reason they want.” No need to tell her that people couldn’t actually vote him out of office if he didn’t let them and that the much bigger risk was that he would be dragged away to be experimented on by the government. Smaller secrets with smaller consequences were so much easier to keep.

Sheryl stared back at him, resolute. “Don’t worry, Mayor Masters. I won’t tell anybody that you’re… Er…” She paused. “What exactly are you?”

And they had finally gotten to the part of the conversation that Vlad had actually been expecting. This is the part of the conversation he’d spent forty-five minutes preparing for. “I’m ecto-contaminated. It’s a medical condition caused by over exposure to ectoplasm. You see…”

“Oh no need to explain, hon,” Sheryl said as if he hadn’t said something shocking, “My nephew Mikey has the same thing. He got attacked by this ghost bug half a year back and now his skin glows whenever it rains.”

Vlad blinked. What? Just what?

“I’m sure a lot of folks around here have it,” she continued, oblivious to the way she was taking Vlad’s world view apart. “In fact, just the other day, I was talking to my friend Michelle and, she’s a funny one Michelle, well, she says that most of Casper High probably had the ecto at this point. I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration myself, but-”

“Thank you Sheryl,” Vlad cut in. As useful as it would be to hear the rest of Sheryl’s gossip about Amity Park and and ectoplasm, for now, Vlad just wanted to make sure he wasn’t part of that gossip. “I’m sure there are plenty of people that are ecto-contaminated, but my case is rather severe and I’d rather it did not get around that I can change forms like that.”

Sheryl blinked and nodded slowly. “Well, if it makes you feel better, my lips are sealed, but it’s really nothing to be embarrassed about so long as you don’t do the actually changing in front of other people.”

“I mean it, Sheryl,” said Vlad, “I don’t want anyone else to know about this.” He didn’t particularly want to kill Sheryl, but he would if he had to.

“Okay, okay. I gotcha. I won’t tell a soul. Not even my husband.”

Vlad breathed out, relieved. He really did hate disposing of bodies. And the lemon sugar cookies were definitely something he would miss. “Thank you. Now, there wouldn’t happen to be anything I could interest you in, just to make this little deal official? I’m sure I could arrange a nice vacation for you and your husband if you would like.”

Sheryl put a finger on her lip and tilted her head. “You know,” she said, “that does sound nice, but I think there’s something else you could do for me.”

Vlad tensed. He was willing to give a lot, but it was never a good sign if the person you were bribing had something specific in mind. It meant they might have more specific things in mind in the future.

“Please start either accepting or declining the calendar invites I send out,” she said without a hint of guile.

“What?” Vlad asked, entirely flabbergasted, “Calendar invites?”

Sheryl sighed, “When I send out meeting invites you don’t reply or you mark them as tentative instead of accepted or declined. It makes scheduling budget meetings hard, dontcha know? I never know if you’re going to show up.”

“I… uh… Okay, I can do that” Vlad said. Really, calendar invites? That's what she wanted? Well, whatever made her happy.

“Glad to hear it!” Sheryl said, smiling wide. “Well,” she said, starting to stand up and dust off her skirt, “If that’s all, I’d better be getting back out to the front desk. We don’t want to keep any of your constituents waiting, now do we?”

“No, we certainly do not. Thank you, Sheryl. You have my utmost confidence.” He couldn’t believe it was that simple.

“Of course, Mayor Masters.” She paused just as she was closing it, “Just make sure to keep the door locked if you need to change like that again.”

“Of course,” Vlad said smiling.

His brow furrowed as the door clicked closed behind Sheryl. Were there really that many ecto-contaminated people in Amity Park? Sheryl’s nephew glowed when it rained? What did that even mean? He got out a notepad and started writing down all his questions. He had a lot of investigation ahead of him. Maybe he should try paying Daniel and his friends a visit.

—

Sheryl smiled to herself as she left work that evening. Maureen had texted telling her that all of the boys had loved her cookies, she’d managed to get the printer unjammed on the first try, and Mayor Master’s had accepted every one of her meeting invites that she’d sent out over the last quarter. Sure, it had started out a bit awkward, but it had been a good day.

#phic phight 2023 #danny phantom #vlad plasmius

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starseungs · 2 years

Text

07 : should i be impressed?

— SCORE A GOAL (y. jeongin smau) prev | masterlist | next

warning/s: swearing word count: 3.1k

If you asked someone about what they think you’re like, nine out of ten chances the word “studious” would be strung along those lines. And it’s not like you disagreed, of course. When it came to academics, you really were what was considered a studious student. All the achievements you’ve got lined up from your years of school experience could pretty much speak for themselves. So seeing that, you could say that the public perception of you wasn’t entirely wrong.

But it wasn’t entirely right either.

You see, when it comes to the other meaning of being someone “studious”, you saw yourself standing on the completely opposite side of the spectrum. According to our trusty friend, Google, a studious person is also used to describe someone who shows great care and attention to things. And if you haven’t already considered the chance of faking an amnesia and forget about your constant struggle to apply exactly that to your financial choices, then you could see where this is heading to from a mile away.

Tutoring wasn’t something you’d ever thought of yourself doing. Despite being known as someone who dominated school rankings in multiple subjects, you were also known for being a fairly guarded person. Not to a point where you didn’t have friends, yet enough to not have any close ones. Needless to say, “social” was not one of the words someone would use to describe you unlike the one previously mentioned. The only people being remotely near that level were your Carat classmates (namely Minho, Hyunjin, Jisung, and Felix), who admittedly, you only started talking to because you were in severe lack of people to share SEVENTEEN content to.

So, close may not be the word, but they’re definitely the ones you thought of as being inside your bubble. Not like there's a lot anyways. Unlike them who are also in a different group with friends they’d say they were so much more closer to than you. One of them being Yang Jeongin.

Ah yes, how could you almost forget. The great incident that led you to this moment: exhausted and in severe lack of sleep. Just like how you never expected to end up tutoring, you never thought it’d be him. It’s not like you hated the guy, he never did anything to you after all. But that was also the issue.

He never did anything that included you.

In other words: you both were simply confined to the relationship of being “just classmates.” Not strangers, far from it actually. There were these two projects you were in the same group for a few years back, but that was about it. You couldn’t say much about Jeongin, the same way he couldn’t for you. So maybe that’s why these progression of events tasted unfamiliar in your mouth.

In your mind, you always considered this kind of tutoring to be something done with friends. Well, unless it's for a program, which you aren’t in and never will be. No offense to those people, though. You had a lot of respect for services that involve dealing with their clients one on one. On that note, nowhere were you also near being a professional tutor; but just like one, you’re doing this with financial compensation.

You let out a tired yawn as you desperately try to blink away the drowsiness from your eyes. There was certainly a choice that was made in wanting to make a quiz to measure exactly where Jeongin was in terms of history lessons. And there was even more of an option taken in deciding to make it a proper one and stay up late to do so.

You didn’t even have to make it; really, all you had to do was revisit the lessons with him and explain things he had trouble with along the way. But you were feeling nice and thought if he was willing to make an effort on this, then you might as well.

It’s totally not because you felt bad you were planning the bare minimum while he’s out here clinging on to you like you're his one and only beacon of hope. He’s even going so far as agreeing to pay you per hour. So like a decent person, you want to repay him too by taking it as seriously. Removing the service payment would be too much though. That was your main reason for agreeing anyways.

Tick, tock.

Gosh, this class is so damn long. You couldn’t help but glare at the clock displaying the time. There are only a couple more minutes left till the bell rings, and you're finally out of here. Last classes of the day are always the ones taking ages to finish. Can this be explained psychologically? Cause you were very willing to know.

Playfully picking at the stuff spread across your desk, you thought back to what you’ll be doing after this. Trailing your eyes to your right, you see Jeongin a couple of desks away. His eyes were busy being trained on his lap, just below his desk.

Hold on a minute, is that his phone?

You rolled your eyes in amusement. Even though you admitted to not being able to say much about Jeongin, he definitely looks like someone who has a rebellious streak. But having already learned that he was much more serious than he lets on, you view this part of him as a lot more endearing now. That little scamming stunt he pulled on you was not appreciated at all though. Well, granted that you were the one who suggested the rates, he could’ve just been going along with it. As said before, you both aren’t the slightest bit close; so he was just probably being polite and not pointing it out. Or at least that's what you would want to believe anyways. It isn’t nice to assume the worst out of people you didn’t know very well. But basing off the interactions you’ve had so far, he could be a little shit.

In a way, you could actually point out similarities between yourself and Jeongin. If you had to describe it in words, it would be like being two sides of the same coin. Outwardly different, yet still the same. That opinion could easily change though, you believed human perception to be a fragile thing. Even so, you wonder if maybe you both could end up as friends. Your “friend group” is already part of his anyway. Maybe—

The screeching sound of the bell ringing suddenly cuts you off from your short Jeongin analysis. Automatically, you start to panic a bit at your situation.

Shit, you weren't staring at him, right?

Awkwardly scanning your surroundings discreetly, you let out a sigh of relief. It doesn’t look like anyone noticed. Not that you were actually staring anyways. It was just a look.

After stretching your limbs that were aching from sitting down for a long time, you start to pack your things. It was a fast chore, seeing as it only took you barely two minutes to finish. Looking back towards Jeongin (because you needed to approach him of course, not just to look), you saw him engaging in a small chat with your fellow classmate, Changbin.

Debating on heading over and interrupting their conversation or waiting until the latter leaves, you still for a moment. Yet apparently, Changbin sees this because he called over to you almost immediately.

“Hey Y/N!” He cheerfully greets you while you’re approaching.

“Hi,” you smiled back politely. Wow, isn’t this awkward. Choosing to get this over with, you turned to face Jeongin, “You ready?”

For a second he seems confused, and you fight back the urge to scowl at him. He can't have forgotten again surely? You can’t always be the one reminding him to attend the sessions. Luckily for you, an imaginary light bulb lit up above his head in remembrance.

“Oh right,” he sheepishly chuckles, lightly scratching at the back of his head, “Almost forgot again.”

Unfortunately, the twitch in your eye could not be stopped. His smile drops instantly. Okay no, that isn't fair. You feel guilty now.

Changbin cackled at the short exchange. At least one of you is enjoying this situation. Patting your back, he heads off with a “good luck!” Oh you could definitely see how you would need that. After another awkward pause, you and Jeongin finally think to exit the classroom.

“It’s gonna be max one hour right?” He almost pleads. One of these days you’re gonna ask him if he’s just naturally a cheapskate or is he also saving for something. You know you are. And that's why you respond:

“That depends. Maybe if you get a lot better then we’ll be having shorter sessions,” you shrugged, “For now, I think we have a lot to cover.”

“What—you just want me to pay you more!” Jeongin whines in protest, and that almost makes you feel sorry. Keyword: almost.

You don’t reply to him as there was nothing to refute. He wasn’t wrong after all. Though there seems to be a lot to cover with him truthfully; overall, he wasn’t wrong about your motives. The lack of response elicits a scandalized gasp being exaggerated from him.

“So you really are just planning to make me pay more!” He states like it’s top quality gossip. You could only shrug.

“Look, we just have two sessions a week planned. Might as well make the most of it,” was your honest answer. Jeongin stares for a quick moment before starting to laugh out loud. You gape at him, baffled at his sudden outburst. He gives you a delighted grin back.

“You’re a lot more entertaining than I thought,” he admits.

Huh.

What were you exactly supposed to feel with that? As if sensing your confused thought process, he clears his throat.

“I mean it in a good way. To be honest, I always thought you were someone whose only hobby was to study. So like, I just thought you were the boring type. Oh, that's mean to say. Sorry, my bad!" You blink unsurely, and that sets him off rambling again, "Well now I know you’re also a fan of that K-Pop group some of my friends are into! You’re also friends with them right?” He chirps.

Yes, chirps. He’s a lot chirpier than you remembered.

“You could say that,” you finally respond. He seems to like that answer because he quite literally beams brighter.

“Let’s hang out sometimes! With them too if you want,” Jeongin suggests.

Contrasting to your little segment about why you didn't have many friends earlier, you actually really like the idea. Maybe it’s time for you to make real friends. You yourself know you can’t stay like this forever. It's your last year in high school, you should be making good memories before it ends. Jeongin notices you perking up at the suggestion and smiles.

Not gonna lie, he kinda has a nice smile.

Aggressively brushing off the intrusive thought, you continue walking. Jeongin is by your side initiating small talk, while you respond to whatever you need to. You would never tell him this, but he’s a lot more comfortable to talk to than you originally expected.

In person, you and him really do look like different sides of a coin. You’re very aware of the drastic difference in the way you act in person compared to how you talk in messages. What can you say, being behind a screen just makes you feel a lot more confident in conversing compared to doing so verbally. You’re pretty sure Jeongin has noticed this by now, just choosing not to say it to your face. Whether you’re thankful for that or not, explaining the whole concept isn’t that appealing to do anyways.

Out of nowhere, you’re suddenly very conscious of the speed you both are traveling at. The library is already in view, and only a couple more steps is the entrance, yet you chose to focus on how long it actually took to get here.

Does it normally take this long to walk to the library for him? It is for you, however if you recall any memories you have of Jeongin walking or running, he always looked fast. He’s an athlete after all, and soccer is literally a game you play while running. So through what you observed, you just naturally assumed he's on the faster side. Wait, faster side?

Was he matching your pace the whole time?

The sudden heat that creeps up your face is barely manageable to ignore. It’s from the embarrassment of walking too slow, you conclude. Being flattered by the action is totally only a small part of it. It’s just Jeongin. A classmate, maybe a friend soon, but as of the moment, just acquaintances. Nothing big to fuss about.

You quickly realize that you’re both standing in front of the library doors now. Instinctively, you try to head first and reach for the door, but it seems like someone beat you to it—and all you see is Jeongin holding the door open, waiting for you to go in.

What the fuck?

You almost malfunction right then and there. Holy shit, Y/N! Get a grip! It’s like the bare minimum for proper manners, also normal as a friendly action too. All those romance books are getting to your head! Do something! Anything!

So you choose to thank him quietly instead. Quite an underwhelming response compared to the mini-breakdown you had just a few seconds ago. You inwardly scowled at yourself for making such a big deal over a simple act of decency. It’s no different than sacrificing sleep to make him a quiz. And that’s exactly what you already did for him.

The bar is so low. You grimace at the thought. Is this really how we live? Because damn, this is sad. Ah, forget that for now. You have a tutoring session to lead.

That's when you find yourself already sitting in front of Yang Jeongin.

This is going too fast for no reason.

"Wait, before we start I have something to give you," he says while rummaging through his bag.

For heaven's sake what is it now? You're sure you already received enough heart stopping moments for the day. That plus your severe lack of sleep is making you feel so unstable. Oh, that must be why.

You let out a startled noise when Jeongin suddenly slaps a folder on the table. You looked at it with question. What you were looking at seemed to be a simple brown cardboard folder. The contents were surely something you didn't expect though.

"Are these your quiz papers?" You gasp in shock. You knew he was serious about raising his grade but this is serious, serious!

"What? Don't be so shocked," he scoffs playfully, "I just tried to compile the quizzes we got back. My midterm score sheet is also there. Thought it'd make this session faster."

Taken so aback by the combination of the action and his following explanation, you could only let out a laugh. Now it's his turn to be shocked.

"I'm sorry—" you wheezed, "And here I thought you did this cause you really wanted to pass!"

Jeongin's face contorts comically to protest. Eyebrows furrowed, framing his eyes that were opened wide as a way of conveying his complaints.

"That too, duh! But I still need to have money by the end of this week okay…" His voice trails off. You look at him amused. Jeongin notices and glares back as a reply. You snort at the action.

Opening the folder, you quickly scanned through its contents. Yeah, the scores are low alright. One 35 over 100, another being 40 over 97, is that a 24 over 83? You hum.

"That bad huh," Jeongin observes you. He crosses his arms while pressing his lips to a thin line.

"Hm. It's not as devastating as I thought, I can tell there was an effort in answering these at least," he quirked an eyebrow at your response.

Taking out the quiz you pulled an all-nighter to finish, you handed it to him. After seeing all the contents, Jeongin looks like the whole world just got destroyed in front of his eyes.

"Don't be so dramatic," you sigh, "It's just to see where you are general knowledge wise. No studying yet. I just want to consider how much and what you actually know."

"Alright," he slumps, feeling defeated. You smile at him for encouragement. That seemed to lift his mood up a little.

While he's busy answering your quiz, you take the time to list down notes about his quiz performances that can help you tutor him better. From what you can see, he seems to know general events quite well. It’s the details that are often lost to him. He’s not a hopeless case. An annoyed huff cuts off your concentration.

What a sight.

This made you chuckle to yourself. His hair is a bit of an adorable mess now from the constant running through it, eyes burning with what you could only hope is determination and not blazing anger over a subject, and his lower lip caught in a bite. As much as you hate to admit it, he's actually really cute like this. It’s the natural pretty boy charm, you guess. Jeongin is undoubtedly on the more handsome side. A platonic compliment, of course.

You continue to watch him with interest as he moves from question to question, shading the choices he thinks are correct. Did you mention the quiz is in multiple choice? Yeah, you couldn't be bothered to make him do essays or fill in the blanks. Especially if you're the one checking it afterwards. That, and torturing him like that on the first day would be plain cruel. 100% would do it, but he's been a lot nicer to you so far.

"I'm done," Jeongin announces enthusiastically while handing you the paper, "I think this is the best I've done in a history quiz!"

Oh no. That always ends up badly. You know how they say that when you think something is really easy, then you're probably doing it wrong? Yeah.

You scan over his answers and end up internally crying over the results. You were right. It did end up badly. He got more than 6 answers correctly though! Your realization of the forced optimism crashes on you like a brick. Coughing unsurely, you pushed the paper back towards him.

"A-am I—should I be impressed?"

Jeongin groans in defeat. He sadly melts on the chair like goo. Poor him. He’s really trying. You just really can’t force yourself to ace something you don’t know. Tapping your finger on the table, you glance at him. If you squint, you could probably see his soul trying to escape his body.

"One hour won't be enough," you sigh.

Looks like you two have a lot to do.

prev | masterlist | next

taglist: open! + @staysuki @randomness7198 @indelicate-macalino @jinniesuki @h0neydewmoon

#stray kids smau #skz smau #stray kids social media au #skz social media au #yang jeongin smau #yang jeongin social media au #jeongin smau #jeongin social media au #stray kids #skz #social media au #yang jeongin #jeongin #jeongin imagines #smau #yang jeongin imagines #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #score a goal - yang jeongin smau

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the-princess-of-loki · 2 years

Text

King Loki

“Loki,” You called softly from behind his back standing on the Bifrost. The wind was throwing your long hair backwards. You have just witnessed how he had frozen Heimdall, turning into a Jotun but you didn’t care. You knew Heimdall would be alright. Loki was another matter.

“How did you get here, dear?” He asked while turning around. The term of endearment he usually uses with you felt too forced.

“You know I don’t need the Tesseract to transport. I’m a goddess,” You took a tentative step toward him and he just looked at you with a stoic expression. “Can we talk, Loki?”

“I have things to do right now.”

“I know, darling. I need to tell you something urgent and brief and then I’ll stay by your side whatever you decide to do,” You grabbed his arm and he looked at you with one of his perfect eyebrows arched.

“Why would you do that?” His face remained stoic but his green eyes betrayed him. You knew him for years now, his beautiful eyes would always tell you everything you needed to know.

“Because you’re the owner of my heart and my king,” You smiled at him while trying to convey in your voice and your face the certainty you felt. Loki just nodded at you to say whatever you wanted. You sighed. “I know what you’re about to do. I’m not going to try to convince you not to. I just want you to listen to me, okay?”

“I’m listening. Be quick.”

“I know you want to do this to prove that you’re just like Thor, but you aren’t like him and that’s what makes you so wonderful,” You stop for a moment to try to calm your heart. “You are the most talented, wisest, cleverest and, if you allow me, beautiful soul in the Nine Realms. You don’t have anything to prove because those of us who took the chance to see what you hide behind the thick walls you covered your heart with know that you are more than anybody and anything else,” You smiled sweetly at him.

“And who would these people be, according to you?”

“All of us who truly love you, Loki: me, your Mother, your brother, even your Father in his own wicked way of showing it. Tell me, why do you wish to destroy Jotunheim apart from proving that you can do what your brother does?” You asked while hugging him by the waist. Loki didn’t push you away but his grip on Gungnir became firmer.

“I’ll prove that I’m not one of them… That I’m worthy,” Loki whispered the last part but you were able to hear him just fine.

“As I told you, you don’t have anything to prove. And as I promised, now that I have shared my thoughts, I’ll stand by your side whatever you decide to do,” You took a step back feeling your heart throbbing.

You hid your deception when Loki turned around from you and started to walk toward the observatory. You promised you’d be there with him, so you followed him inside. You hugged yourself, biting your lower lip. However, as Loki was about to put Gungnir down and start destroying Jotunheim, he hesitated.

“How can you love a monster like me?” He asks in a whisper looking at you with a side gaze.

“First, you’re no monster. Second, I love you no matter what, remember?” You had said those words the moment you met him when you two were nothing but kids. A little smile turned on the corner of his lips and you felt your heart skip a beat.

“You saw my blue skin even when I wasn’t facing you, I’m sure,” He hung his head low.

“Yes, and you look as beautiful and as hot as ever, my love,” You said walking toward him and putting your hand on his shoulder.

“How can you say that with such conviction? How can you look at me with those loving eyes knowing what you do!?” Loki turned around quickly while speaking, letting Gungnir fall to the floor, grabbing your hips and making you walk backwards until your back was glued to the wall. You put both your hands on his shoulders making him come closer to you.

“Because it’s how I feel, dear. You are the owner of my heart, body and soul. I love you more than everything in the Nine Realms and I will always do,” Loki let his forehead fall into yours as he closed his eyes. You were sharing your breath and even your heart matched the rhythm of his -that was how connected you were.

“You promise you won’t leave me? Not ever? Not when things turn out awful?” Loki slowly opened his beautiful green eyes to look straight into yours. He was so close that it was a bit dizzying but you keep your eyes looking into his.

“Never as long as I’m alive, my beautiful king.”

Loki looked at you for a moment longer obviously trying to figure out if you were lying to him or not. You held your gaze hoping to show him how much he meant to you. Before you were able to react, his lips crashed on yours. He kissed you with desperation, passion and love all at the same time. You held him tight against your body while you kept up his furiously rapid pace of kissing you. You weren’t complaining, though. His kissing technique was exquisite.

“It’s forever for us, understand?” Loki whispered against your lips. Even when it was more of a reminder for him than for you, you knew he’d expected you to answer him.

“Yes, darling. Forever,” You hummed while caressing his chest.

“Good. Now, my queen, let’s go to my chambers. I need to bury myself inside you right this instant.”

#loki #lokiodinson #lokilaufeyson #lokiimagine #lokisweet #lokilove #loki fluff

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quirkthieves · 2 months

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Lacramioara & Love

some headcanons while i put together mioara's playlist since ... cw for discussion of abusive relationships & talk of ableism, homophobia, 18+ topics, immolation...etc

Lacramioara's "first love" was the woman he adoringly refers to as "My Lady"; a noblewoman of the same age who saved her life after he fell, suffering severe head trauma in the process.

As a result, both feeling indebted and no longer able to make the long pastoral journeys alone that being a shepherd required due to his injuries, Mioara would dedicate herself to being the Lady's handmaid. (16)

In Mia's eyes, they were inseparable, and there was nobody else he'd rather stand beside. The long term psychological and physical symptoms of her TBI resulted in being either implicitly or explicitly rejected by others, which was only compounded by matters of class.

They engaged in both physical and romantic intimate acts; to Lacramioara, they were in a relationship, although her Lady did not view it the same way. Regardless, Lacramioara was willing to tolerate any and all sorts of treatment for the sake of remaining at his Lady's side. One particular demonstration of "fondness" was to make Lacramioara cry, because of her name and emotional volatility.

After nine years of being strung along, Lacramioara would watch her Lady become engaged, and then pregnant. Needless to say, there was a lot at stake when the two were caught together.

With her fiancee incensed at the infidelity and strange relationship the Lady threw Mioara under the bus for diabolic seduction-- but Mioara agreed to go along with her story. A life for a life, right?

Although given multiple times to recant and serve penance, Lacramioara refused. He would not apologize for love, nor would she deny it, so strong was her love for her Lady. Strong enough to be beatified and offered angelhood. Even after being burned at the stake, Lacramioara doesn't appear to realize she was used, but her heartbreak at her Lady not even being present for his execution left a deep curse on those involved that not even Mia is cognizant of.

But what about now?

-Lacramioara, naturally, still yearns for love. He'll chase the slightest indication of affection, regardless of if she would have felt that way for the other person in the first place. He'll tolerate the intolerable, even when he becomes aware she's being played with.

-She'll fall in love with even the oddest traits of an individual. As a partner, Lacramioara's genuinely supportive, and means what he says. He'll learn to make your favorite foods or listen to you talk about your favorite things, although this can sometimes turn into enabling in the wrong conditions.

-He can be viciously possessive and jealous. While not the type to think of her partner as a cheater, and believing of proclaimed friendships at face value, the situation can escalate intensely when she believes someone is hitting on his partner. Or attempting courtship in any manner. This has only been made worse by the centuries of doing a job where physical punishment in the most brutal ways possible is considered a proper avenue. Come get your boyfriend bro she's beating the shit out of people.

-Abandonment avoidance is high. Lacramioara has spikes of fear (irrational or not) that he's somehow messed up terribly, and will desperately try to right the wrong, regardless of if the wrong actually exists or not

-he's incorrigibly horny. im sorry theres no way not to be crass about it. and known for being promiscuous as far as fwb and one night stands go, although once in a relationship, he becomes entirely monogamous. she's also into some weird shit, but typically will adapt to the preferences of her partner.

-you will probably get your blood sucked though. not in a horny way. unless you want it in a horny way. but you are getting Drank.

-he excels in domesticity and will always make sure you have food to eat and somewhere to sleep.

-she likes to be matchies :) wearing matching accessories or outfits makes her happy

-something she values deeply is a partner who takes her disability as part of the package without seeing her as a burden. days spent crying in the dark from pain and nausea, spells of confusion, erratic moods, tremors and weakness... he already feels pressure and guilt about these things because of how they impede her work and the incredibly conditional nature of their payout. And when what you get paid in directly correlates to your ability to feel happiness...

-naturally, anyone dating Lacramioara will have to deal with Leopold in some fashion, and Leopold's inevitable shovel talk. He worries deeply about Lacramioara (and doesn't have much confidence in her taste), and has a vested interest in ensuring there's no more heartbreak.

(especially if it can lead to curses)

#BENEDICTUS ET AFFECTUS://MIOARA HC #holds mia. im sorry bb youll find love someday

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icwasher · 9 months

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ISLE OF BLOOD AND STONE (Book Review)

WARNING: MAY CONTAIN MINOR SPOILERS.

SYNOPSIS:

"Ulises asked, "How can I look at these maps, see this riddle, and do nothing? They are my brothers." Elias reached across the table and flicked aside two shells with a fingertip. The map curled into itself. "It's bound to be a goose chase. You know that?" "Or a treasure hunt," Ulises countered, "and you've always been good at those." Nineteen-year-old Elias is a royal explorer, a skilled mapmaker, and the new king of del Mar's oldest friend. Soon he will embark on the adventure of a lifetime, an expedition past the Strait of Cain and into uncharted waters. Nothing stands in his way...until a long-ago tragedy creeps back into the light, threatening all he holds dear. The people of St. John del Mar have never recovered from the loss of their boy princes, kidnapped eighteen years ago, both presumed dead. But when two maps surface, each bearing the same hidden riddle, troubling questions arise. What really happened to the young heirs? And why do the maps appear to be drawn by Lord Antoni, Elias's father, who vanished on that same fateful day? With the king's beautiful cousin by his side--whether he wants her there or not--Elias will race to solve the riddle of the princes. He will have to use his wits and guard his back. Because some truths are better left buried...and an unknown enemy stalks his every turn."

This book is full of mapmakers, explorers, and sea serpents who will eat you at the drop of a hat. I absolutely love books set in worlds where adventurers reign, and this world is absolutely exquisite. There are a few information dumps, but otherwise, the history and culture of the world is integrated beautifully.

On the topic of worldbuilding, I loved the way Makiia Lucier integrated the mechanics of mapmaking. She mentioned tools and technology used when making maps but didn't explain what every term meant. I personally love it when the author leaves it up to you to discover what little details they've put in their work mean. There were also multiple types of sea serpents, which is a detail I appreciate immensely.

I have high expectations when it comes to characters, and these characters are just so amazing. I love them so much, especially Elias. he's brash, loyal, caring, and a bit of a troublemaker. His growth through the story is wonderful and realistic.

Mercedes is another character I absolutely adore. She's a politician who is careful and crafty with her words, and her and Elias's friendship (and romance) is adorable.

I'll touch on one more character that I loved. Reyna. She's a nine-year-old student at the Tower of Winds, del Mar's mapmaking school. Since she's a girl, she'll likely not be able to find a mapmaker to apprentice with, but she yearns to be a mapmaker, and the thought of being dismissed from the school and left to run a family does not appeal to her. Throughout the book, she is constantly trying to prove herself to Elias and the other mapmakers in an attempt to secure a master.

Often, good characters help hide a poor plot. That was not the case with this book. While it certainly was a character-driven story, that doesn't mean the plot was neglected. In fact, it was rich and detailed. A bit mystery, a bit adventure, and the tiniest bit fantasy. The characters traveled, investigated, and had scrapes with death.

The only issue I have with this book is some of the writing. It didn't quite flow the way I would have liked, as I am a fan of long sentences, and Lucier would sometimes make separate, short sentences where commas would have sufficed. This may not be a problem to other people, but it confused me until I eventually just pretended the periods were commas in certain places.

But other than that, this book was absolutely fantastic! I would recommend it ten times over! And the sequel, Song of the Abyss, is an amazing read too--and the main character is Reyna.

#books and reading #book reviews #currently reading #reading #books #fantasy #isle of blood and stone #sea serpent #mapmaking #sailing #boats #ships #makiia lucier #young adult #fiction #book series #historical fiction #mystery

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adonis-koo · 3 years

Text

Strictly Business

↳ Summary: When the price of your apartment shoots through the roof, you and your roommate become desperate for money and go to extreme measures to make it possible to afford living there. But it’s all strictly business in the end. Right?

↳ Genre: porn with some plot if you squint, it’s a pornstar AU essentially, sex worker au??? Roommates AU, it’s all platonic, or is it?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/Reader

↳ Word Count: 13k

Tags: dom!kook, sex tapes obviously, dirty talk, pussy slapping, good girl!MC, sir kink, degradation, like if you aren’t into degradation just skip, vaginal fingering, size kink 😌, a little dumbfication, ruined orgasm, breath play, oral (m & f), sex toy, overstimulation, bondage, theres elements of BDSM but not hardcore,

Note: I never thought I’d write pwp ever but here we are you horndogs, I feel like this Oneshot probably deserves a part 2 tbh

“What!?”

Jungkook cringed at your shouted words, you hadn’t meant to of course. Truth be told, you didn’t really know your roommate that well. But he was good in terms of keeping the apartment fairly clean, he was quiet, never brought any one night stands home. You did the same. But outside of talking over bills, a few mutual friends and occasionally watching a movie together you both didn’t really hang out much.

“...Look I know,” Jungkook sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, “They just spiked rent last month too…Maybe we should look for a different place?” He offered as you slumped on the couch. This place was perfect though, it was close to campus, close to your and his work and all while in range of plenty of fast food restaurants and the grocery store. You couldn’t get any better than this.

The apartment was already rather pricey when you and Jungkook found it, but you both made enough together that with that and making sure to grocery shop together it would be fine. But then your tenant had retired and gave his business over to his son who had spiked the rates last month and to be fair he warned he was doing a finalized rent this month but still…

Five hundred extra? How could you afford nine hundred rent a month when both you and Jungkook worked regular college level jobs?

“I’m sure we could but…” you frowned as you fumbled with your fingers, “It won’t be nearly as close to campus or work…”

Jungkook didn’t like the idea anymore then you but...what other options were there? He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, “Well let’s not worry about it tonight. I’ll start looking for other places. Who knows, maybe we can find somewhere better.” He offered you a tiny smile that you weakly returned before sighing, lips quivering before you stood up, running a hand through your hair before going back to your room, looking rather upset.

Jungkook frowned before sighing as his gaze lingered in your direction before making his way to his room. Jungkook began his search for different apartments but much to his irrigation everything was either the same price which neither of you could afford or it was nearly a half hour drive to uni.

It was well into the early morning until Jungkook eventually gave up all together, to make matters go from bad to worst he inhaled sharply in annoyance at the strained feeling of his cock strapped inside the confines of his jeans he had yet to change out of. Seriously? He looked down at the bulge in his pants that decided to greet him at nearly twelve at night.

He looked back at the house listing before back at his pants he clacked his tongue exiting out of the page, seeing as he obviously wasn’t going to find any apartment options tonight and he had a raging boner he knew he could at least fix one of these things.

Kicking off his jeans he sighed in relief before typing away on his computer, putting on his headphones as he eagerly scrolled through Playhub.

Instead of finding a good video to jerk off too he paused at the side bar that usually held porn ads, instead it was advertisement for working on playhub...Jungkook gritted his teeth together, ignoring his hardened cock that was throbbing in need to be touched as he clicked on the ad...Maybe this night wasn’t such a bust…

Should he tell you? He felt nervous as you finished up drinking your smoothie, you were getting ready for work this morning, your hair tied up and you still looked pretty tired. Jungkook felt himself gulp, staring without even realizing it. But the longer he stared the more he felt his ears burning, sure he thought you were pretty when he first met you but…

“Are you okay?” He jumped at your soft voice, tilting your head a little as you glanced at your roommate, feeling slightly odd given he was usually still in bed or was already on his way to work, or even class. It was rare you shared breakfast together. Jungkook swallowed thickly as he rapidly shook his head without even meaning too. He was trying to get the courage to bring up his solution to you.

“Y-yeah I’m good!” Jungkook flashed you a strained smile but he was positive his cheeks were flushed. You pressed your lips together but said no more as you glanced back down at your phone. Jungkook could feel himself slump a little, he usually wasn’t this nervous around girls, god he felt like he was in middle school again.

But again, he had never thought of you in this way before...I mean sure...Jungkook was a man, he had thought about it a time or two in passing thought. But he had never extensively thought about it. About you. About having sex with you. And it was frighteningly arousing, he wouldn’t lie. Had he always been so blind to how tight your sleep shorts were? Or how short they really were and how they strapped against your ass?

Or the way you’d flash him timid sweet smiles when you’d pass one another in the house. Jungkook was thinking with his hormones now. But still...if he was going to do this, he wouldn’t want anyone else to be his partner going into it.

Before he knew it his opportunity was gone as you left the table making him groan in defeat. To be fair it wasn’t exactly an easy question; ‘Hey would you consider making porn with me since we’re desperate to pay rent and can’t afford to stay anywhere else?’

Because that conversation could go well...Jungkook didn’t even know your favorite color, how the fuck was he supposed to go about this? He nibbled against his lower lip as he sunk in his seat, this was going to be more challenging then he anticipated…

Jungkook has spent most of his day at work mopping around and fretting about how bad your reaction could be, the worst would be making things awkward but...that wasn’t going to solve anything and this was a solution...sorta...It could also flop but this could work! Jungkook knows it can!

He continued to affirm himself the whole day and even when he got off shift at nine o’clock at night and headed home. Yes! He’d go and he’d ask you if you were willing to do this because you both needed rent money by the 29th and that wasn’t going to happen unless you did something this something just so happened to be porn…

Jungkook gulped a little as he took his shoes off at the entrance before headed inside, making himself some cup noodles as he tried to calm himself.

What Jungkook didn’t expect was for you to come out of your room, sweatpants hiding the nice sight of your thighs but the tank top was loose and low enough to spot the lacy bralette you sported that Jungkook never looked twice at until now. God he felt like a total pervert! He could already feel his ears turning red as he hurriedly slurped his noodles trying to ignore your figure the way you bent down to grab juice from the fridge.

You were about to leave when Jungkook jumped the opportunity, “Um-! Y/n!” He almost yelped, wincing at his tone. God why did he sounded like he was going through puberty again.

Usually when Jungkook wanted to get with a girl he was a lot more subtle, a few smirks here and there, some playful flirting. Smooth. So why wasn’t he being smooth? Probably because this wasn’t exactly what one would consider a one night stand…

You turned around as you tilted your head, giving him your full attention as you asked, “Yeah?” Jungkook felt himself freeze before he forced a cough from his lips. You could tell he had been acting up since this morning and for some reason it put you on edge...did he not want to be roommates anymore? Was something wrong?

Noting he hadn’t said anything yet you took the opportunity to sit down across from him as you raised your brows.

“I...um…” Jungkook sucked in a breath of air, calming himself down, “So...I found a way that could help us get rent….”

Jungkook felt bad at watching the way your eyes lit up in excitement as you bounced in your seat a little, clapping your hands as you asked, “What? Really!? What is it? I'd hate for us to have to move somewhere else…” Of course this little nerd Jeon Jungkook found a way for you both to get side cash! God you may not have been close to him but he really was a genius!

Oddly enough Jungkook didn’t seem to share your sentiment as he dropped his gaze, looking somewhat ashamed which made your brows furrow.

That was weird…”Well...here’s the thing…” he gave you a funny smile as he rubbed the back of your neck, “...Did you know Playhub pays users who put up content.” Jungkook wasn’t even sure how he managed to get those words out but he could tell that was the last thing you expected him to say.

It looked like your brain was frozen for a good few minutes before as you opened and closed your mouth several times...He did not just say what you think you heard him say…”You’re...you’re joking...right?” You forced a smile on your lips, feeling like something was caught in your throat as you forced a laugh despite your face suddenly feeling hot.

Jungkook sunk into his seat a little which only confirmed he wasn’t joking about this, he ran a hand through his hair as he looked away apprehensively, “I understand if you don’t want to do it but…! Just give it a thought-“

“Jungkook that’s insane! Who would sell porn?”

“I would,” Jungkook replied somewhat defensively before he realized what he said, his ears burning as your jaw dropped a little and your brows rose, “...If I’m desperate enough and I’m pretty desperate right now Y/n...I’ve already checked for different apartments but anything in a half hour radius is around nine hundred as well and unless you wanna find two other housemates in the next two weeks we’re gonna be living in your car.”

Jungkook’s brows were pinched and you wanted to whine at how serious his expression was. Porn? Together….Seriously? Just the idea was making you flush. You wouldn’t lie, Jungkook was an attractive guy, extremely attractive guy, you’d be dumb to not acknowledge that. Or the fact that you had a tiny crush on him when you first moved in together. But eventually you got over it, that didn’t erase the fact that it was once there though! If you slept with him...Dear god…that only crossed your mind when you were desperate while masturbating…

“Oh my god…” you sighed as you pressed your hands to your face.

“Like I said!” Jungkook replied hurriedly, “You don’t have to do it if you don’t feel comfortable but...we should start sending out advertisements for other roommates soon.”

Porn...Together…

You melted into your chair feeling somewhat embarrassed by the idea, what if somebody you knew stumbled across a video or what if your work found out…? “I…” You pressed your lips together before rubbing your temple, “Can I at least think it over tonight…?”

Jungkook’s lips parted, you...you were actually considering? Jungkook felt his face burn as he nodded rapidly, “Of course! Yeah! Just let me know in the morning.” Holy shit you were considering!

Holy shit, you were actually considering this…

But Jungkook had a point, you were kind of desperate as well...You really loved this apartment and you didn’t want to give it up…

It was nearly seven in the morning and you had a horrible time sleeping last night, there were too many thoughts in your mind that kept you awake. If you were to do this then...you’d have to lay out a lot of ground rules and would have to talk a lot of things over…

That’s how you found yourself sitting on the couch with Jungkook both of you sitting on the opposite end turned to face one another, “...How do we even do this? Setting up an account?” You flushed as you asked, hugging the couch pillow against your chest.

Jungkook was still waking up, steam wafting from the cup of coffee he had as he took a sip, oddly not looking as flustered as he did the day before, “Well first off we’d make an account then we’d apply for their amateur program, they’ll have an admin verify us and we’d go from there.” You pressed your lips together as you nodded, “If we do this,” Jungkook continued carefully, “We should stop by the bank and set up a joint account so we can both access the account we use for this.”

That was definitely agreed and the smartest decision, that way there was no fighting or over spending any money you’d make on this...God you were actually considering this, “That's if you actually wanna do this though.” Jungkook finished as he took another sip of coffee, his expression neutral but the way he eyed you made your face feel hot again.

Sighing you pressed your hand to your face, what was the worst that could happen? You bang your roommate and this flops and then you go on with your life pretending it never happened? “Ah fuck it. We need money, and now.” Jungkook looked a little surprised by your words making you more flustered, “What!? Do you want me to say no!?”

“No…! Well...Yeah, if you really don’t want to sleep with me…” Jungkook looked a little awkward as he rubbed his head, he wouldn’t lie, his pride would be a little hurt if you didn’t but he handled rejection all throughout his school years, he had survived before and could do so again.

“Do you wanna sleep with me?” You countered cautiously as you both awkwardly looked at one another.

Jungkook felt as if he’d break out in nervous sweat any moment, “...Yes…?” It was posed more like a question than an answer as you groaned making him rush, “It wouldn’t be a bad thing! I think your um-! I think you're pretty and I wouldn’t mind- I’m just gonna shut up. Let’s talk

sex, condoms or pill?” You looked at him bewildered as he scratched his cheek before murmuring, “Most people find it hot when it’s raw...we should discuss all of this before we do anything at all.”

It was embarrassing though! You groaned as you shoved your face into your pillow, this was going to be a long conversation, “Condoms. I don’t have a reason to be on birth control but I mean…” You weren’t a stranger to Pornhub you knew most people went raw on there but…”Actually- before we even discuss condomless we should both get checked out. If you have STDs this plan isn’t going to work. We can talk about birth control afterward.” You’d be willing to go on pill but you wanted to make sure both of you were clean before you do anything else.

Jungkook nodded, “Alright fair enough- I don’t have STDs by the way,” He watched a smile tug on your lips for the first time all morning, yeah...this could definitely work, “You know I already have a good camera so we don’t have to worry about that. No faces though?”

You immediately nodded, feeling a little better at the idea of keeping your face out of any kind of porn just to make yourself feel better, “Yeah definitely….And I guess we should probably talk about Uh…” you coughed a little, “...Kinks and stuff…For entertainment purposes.”

“Are you vanilla?” Jungkook immediately quizzed, making your gaze dart away from him, suddenly becoming mute, “Because we can keep it vanilla if that’s what you want.” He really was a sweetheart, not just like this but his whole personality. He was always thinking about others.

You rubbed your head as you sighed, forcing yourself to speak, “I uh...Not really…” you offered him a weak smile when you noticed he seemed confused.

You...you weren’t into vanilla? Jungkook didn’t want to say he assumed your tastes but well...he did a little, you were considerably quiet and timid, only open with your friends but over all a kind and sweet person. Jungkook figured girls like you probably liked something slow and sentimental. And there was nothing wrong with that!

“And even if I was vanilla it wouldn't get views. Just throw me around and shit.” You laughed at the way Jungkook choked on his coffee, coughing as he pressed a hand on his chest, “Degradation, pain, bondage, all that stuff. Unless…! You’re not into that…” What surge of confidence you had suddenly wilted at the idea of Jungkook not being into these things.

Rather it was the opposite, the more you spoke the more aroused Jungkook felt, “...Are you saying you’re a submissive?” Jungkook could feel his cock throb in excitement. Sure he could find people who liked rough sex but not everyone was a submissive and the idea that he had been living with one for a year and a half was driving him up the wall.

“Are you saying you’re a dominant?” You suddenly felt nervous at the idea, you could label yourself a sub but you had never actually been with a dominant before. Sure you had a great time with plenty of people but...The air in the room shifted a little, Jungkooks gaze a little more sultry then before, those usually innocent doe eyes looked lidded in the moment and the air around him suddenly looked a thousand times more confident as he gave a nod with a shrug, “Yeah, I am.”

You wanted to screech at his words, his voice sounding a tone deeper than before.

Three words and it felt like you were squirming, of course he was dominant! Of course! You should’ve known! “So does that mean you like getting thrown around and shit?” Jungkook tucked his tongue into his cheek before offering a cocky smile that made him look a little more predatory than you were used to, he didn’t make a move to get closer to you but your body felt hotter then you remembered.

You managed a stiff nod, refusing to meet his gaze anymore and you were sure you looked embarrassed, you had to…You had never met someone that considered themselves formally a dominant but the energy just continued to ooze from Jungkook.

“Oh? What about overstimulated,” Nod, “Toys?” Nod, “What about title kinks? I prefer to be addressed as Sir.” Jungkook wasn’t even hiding his arousal or interest anymore. His pupils looked dilated and he was licking lips at the way you squirmed in your seat, lips tugging into a pout and you refused to look at him anymore. Cute.

“Sir is fine.” You mumbled as you rubbed your hand against your cheek, trying to stop your thighs from rubbing together in excitement. Maybe this wasn’t a terrible idea as you thought…

Finding out that you and Jungkook were both sexually compatible seemed to really fast track your progress. You both went out the same day, opened a joint account together, you went to get tested and meanwhile bought birth control for you to start taking. Things seemed to be going well the last few days but you couldn’t help but feel nervous, the 29th would be arriving soon and if this flopped you’d either be cramming two extra people in the apartment or you’d be sleeping in by the back of your car.

“Well I don’t know, I guess we’ll just have to play around with camera positions,” Jungkook frowned, messing with his tripod as you laid on his bed so he could try to frame it without your face in the shot, “I think this should work.” He seemed satisfied with his work as he leaned back on his hands as he sighed in contentment.

“Have you heard back from them yet?” You glanced up at Jungkook as he frowned, shaking his head. You had created a pornhub profile together the same day you agreed to do this and you had yet to hear back about getting verified. But a part of you wondered if you’d have to build a following first. God this sounded time consuming…

“Hey, come on it’ll be fine.” It was like Jungkook could sense your nervous energy as you sighed, rolling into your stomach as you buried into his pillow, “If the video does well we’ll still get a cut regardless of verified or not. Verified probably just means more exposure.”

The bed dipped a little as Jungkook sat on the edge as you sighed, mumbling into the pillow, “If it does well. Pornhub is like any other platform, there’s millions of videos on there. What’s one more have to offer?” It was true, the likelihood that this was going to work was….not high.

Jungkook frowned as he shrugged, he had been the more optimistic one about this then you and he’d continue to do so, “Well maybe…” You could hear the hesitation in his voice as you glanced up at him in front of your slumped position, his eyes a little nervous as he shrugged, “Maybe we should try a practice run.”

You could immediately feel your face become hot at his words, there wasn’t any reason why you couldn’t. You got your test results back and you were both clean of STDs and you had been making sure to take birth control every day for the past four days and today as well, “Maybe we should…” you mumbled letting your face press against the pillow once more. The fact was nobody was going to watch to two awkward college kids act like they were virgins, you needed to have confidence in having sex with Jungkook and vice versa, right now that wasn’t looking too hot, “We can’t make anything decent until we’re used to banging each other.”

You could hear Jungkook laugh a little, sounding a little less nervous as you felt the bed shift again, a hand hesitantly rolling your over into your back to look up at him, his cheeks were pink despite hovering on top of you, “I think we could make something decent right now.” Jungkook offered a little smirk as you glanced at the camera, realizing the screen had been flipped and record was on making your ears burn as you squirmed beneath him a little, “We’ll take it slow.” Jungkook was going to be the dominant in this scenario so he felt obligated to be the one to lead you through this despite not being experienced himself.

“Listen...ah...If you wanna stop at any time just tell me okay? Remember, we’re just getting used to one another.”

You swallowed thickly despite looking away from him, feeling too embarrassed to look at him directly, “Same applies, if you wanna stop then we do.” Jungkook felt reassured as his lips quirked into a little smile, but admittedly all business aside, he was aroused by the sight of you beneath him. Jungkook was eager to get you naked and soaking wet beneath him, he had a lot of things he wanted to experiment with today and he had the feeling you’d be a good girl and let him.

Your breath hitches a little at his hands immediately pushing your top over your head, you felt semi embarrassed you weren’t wearing any sort of lingerie, just your usual bralette and panties that weren’t even matching but Jungkook didn’t even seem to mind as he quickly undid your bra.

Your first instinct was to shy away from him attempting to cover yourself but shockingly Jungkook’s hands were faster, “Dont.” His voice was husky and deeper as he spoke causing your core to ache with a gush of arousal, “Let’s make one thing clear,” Jungkook let his lips press against your ear as he purred lowly, “I’m the dominant here. So be a good little girl and obey.” He growled lowly keeping your arms pinned to the bed as his mouth dragged down your neck, a whine suddenly escaping you at the feeling of his mouth capturing your sensitive nipple between his lips. Suckling it as a soft moan escaped you, your back arching a little to try for a little more friction.

Your panties were practically soaking and you hadn’t even started yet, Jungkook held your wrists over your hand with one hand and the other squeezed against your waist before petting down to your hip, his lips suckling against your tits before you squeaked at the feeling of his hand cupping your cunt, “Fuck,” Jungkook grunted at the feeling of your hips immediately thrusting into his hand for friction, “So fucking needy.” He growled against your skin, letting go of your wrists to tug his shirt over his head, “Should’ve known your little ass was a good girl,” He cooed snidely, a sharp sting against your pussy as he spanked it making you moan louder then you wanted too as he his smirk widened, “What a cute little sub.” You whined as you felt a sharp slap against your clothed clit, throbbing in excitement as pain flushed against it.

“Sir! Please.” You hadn’t even consciously realized what you said but it made Jungkook’s muscle tense and a growl to suddenly escaping him at being formally addressed. His cock suddenly throbbing in need as he bit against your skin, “Please what? You desperate whore.” He wanted to hear you say it, to listen to that sweet little voice beg to be fucked. How could Jungkook life with you for this long and never think about how nice and wet your little cunt was?

“Ah!” Your hips bucked at the harsh slap against your clit, pleasure making you whine and squirm as you fumbled, “Please! Please sir!” Jungkook gritted his teeth as he roughly cupped your cunt, massaging against it as your panties soaked with arousal.

“Answer my fucking question,” Jungkook growled against your ear lowly, his thumb pressing against your covered clit harshly, your loud surprised squeak like music to his ears, “What do you want? What do you think you deserve? Hm?”

Jungkook wanted to moan at just the sight of your fucked out submissive face as your hips kept needily grinding against his hand, “Tongue! Sir! Please! Want fingers! Anything!” Your eyes squeezed shut as you whined feeling his fingers pinch your clit, “Ah Sir…!” Jungkook was already stuffing his hand down your panties his long thick fingers dragging over your soaked cunt before pushing a single digit inside you, your lips immediately parting and your little hole clenching around him with a whine.

“Is this what my little slut wants?” Jungkook cooed out mockingly, a wicked smirk on his face as your eyes met, your expression twisted between shy and needy as various whines escaped you as his finger roughly hitting up against your g-spot, “Fuck you’re so tiny baby, I don’t think you can take my cock. It’ll split you right in half.” Just to emphasize Jungkook squeezed another finger inside you making your body jolt and walls clamp with a loud cry as your hips began to fuck yourself with them.

Jungkook paused his movements just to watch your hips buck up against him, your tiny walls squeezing so tight and snug around his fingers that covered in your arousal, “Do you like fucking yourself with my fingers you desperate little whore?” Jungkook growled with lidded eyes, watching your tits bounce with each thrust of your body and your little squeaked moans.

“Y-yes! Mm love it!” Jungkook licked his lips at the feeling of your walls squeezing as you whimpered, “Ah! F-feels good! Sir, cum! Want cum!” Your body withered due to edging yourself with his fingers that teasingly brushed up against your g-spot each time. Jungkook shoved his fingers inside you all the way causing you to whine as you scrambled to frantically fuck his fingers making him growl, his non working hand finally releasing your wrists only to grab your hips with a sneer, “Be still you needy bitch.”

You whimpered but stayed still obediently as he used his free hand to peel off your panties, a low moan escaping him and his cock was pressed thick and bulging against his sweatpants at the sight of such a pretty wet cunt stuffed full of his fingers. Your legs immediately spread as your hips couldn’t resist rolling into him, having full motion to feel his fingers drag against your g-spot as you cried out with a moan, “I said stay fucking still,” Jungkook snapped, his hand spanking harshly against your thigh making you jump with a cry, body squirming against his fingers as he shoved them back deep inside you, “You like getting fucked by my fingers? Say it. Say how much you don’t fucking deserve it.” Jungkook demanded, he shifted your body slightly more towards the camera as he kept your legs spread, in perfect few for watching you get stuffed with his fingers, “Say it.” Jungkook snapped, his fingers roughly thrusting inside you causing a loud moan as his jammed his fingers up into your g-spot pleasure was rapidly blossoming in your body as you cried.

“I-I don’t deserve it! I’m a dumb needy slut that doesn’t deserve your fingers Sir! Ah! I’m worthless and shouldn’t be allowed to cum! Sir please…!” Your body was withering as his fingers pounded into you, his thumb skillfully rubbing circles into your clit as your walls rapidly clenched and relaxed, “Sir!”

“That’s right,” Jungkook growled his fingers harshly rutting up into your g-spot sloppily and his thumb rubbing into your clit as he snarled, “You don’t deserve it you worthless cumdumpster.” Your body was so close, Jungkook could feel it, you were squirming and mornings hotly escaped you before a loud cry left your lips the glorious feeling of his fingers escaping you just at the edge of your orgasm, a sob escaping your lips as your body began to tremble.

“Sir please! Please! Let me cum! Sir!” You sobbed with blurry eyes as you glanced up at Jungkook’s dark daunting figure, his fingers in his mouth as he licked them clean, as if he didn’t so much as care about your sobbing figure that trembled beneath him.

His hand suddenly wrapped around your throat with a harsh squeeze, “Shut up you pathetic bitch. You said it yourself, you don’t deserve to cum,” Jungkook gave you a lopsided smile, “But if you really think you deserve to cum get on your knees.” He growled, getting off of you as he pulled his shirt over his head. Your mouth was watering at just the sight of his body, thick and taunt muscles all up and down his arms, his sweat pants hung low enough to show off his v line and you could even see the distinct display of abs when he crunched slightly before sitting with his feet on the ground at the edge of the bed, right in front of the camera.

You scrambled to get off the bed, kneeling down between his parted legs as you folded your hands glancing up at him for direction, Jungkook snorted as his hand came to touch your hair a pleasant noise escaping you as his hand stroked down to your cheek.

A harsh smack against the same skin he previously brushed as you jumped with a whine, your cheek flushing with a delicious sting of pain as Jungkook gritted his teeth, “Don’t sit still and look pretty baby take out my cock.” Obediently you fumbled with his waist band before tugging it down. Pausing for a moment as his cock bounced and laid against his abdominal, he was so thick, perhaps not the longest you had seen but certainly not the shortest either. His head was bulbous and round weeping with precum. You didn’t stare for long, wanting to cum more than anything as you let your lips get to work.

Gently licking the precum off his head as you heard a moan of approval from him, delicately you let your tongue press against the base of his cock, squeezing his balls as you let your tongue work it’s way up his cock, another moan escaping his lips as he growled, “I said suck baby not tease.”

Whining a little you huffed, gripping his cock a little tighter then necessary earning a grunt from him before you obediently parted your lips, slowly taking his thick tip into your mouth as you heard a sigh of relief from him. Your hands tugged against his base as you let your head bob against his tip, letting your tongue messily rub into his slit causing his hips to buck a little, “Fuuck, guess that bitchy little mouth is useful for something.” Jungkook moaned, pride swelling in your chest at making him feel so good, a whine suddenly escaped you at his hand tangling in your hair, pushing you to take more of his cock. You obediently let him, taking more of him into your mouth but not without a vibrated whine.

Jungkook began to guide your movement with his hand into a slow bob as he moaned, pushing you to take further of him as his cock hit the back of your throat.

Pausing a moment Jungkook moaned, “Can you deepthroat sweetheart? Fuuck.” He’s brows scrunched together as he glanced down, another breathy moan escaped him at the sight of your watery eyes glancing up at him a small nod making him moan again as he regripped your hair, somewhat more tender this time as he guided your mouth down his cock. Your throat burned and your jaw ached as you felt tears begin to well in your eyes as you hollowed your cheeks and let his shaft slide further into your mouth.

“Mmm shit, good girl,”Jungkook moaned his hips lifting a little as his hand tangled in your hair, his hand eagerly encouraging your head as you whined, letting your head bob against his thick shaft, gagging a little as his hand pushed you further down until your nose was pressed against his pubic bone, “You take me so well baby fuck.” Jungkook moaned lowly, his hand yanking your hair making you muffle a cry against his cock as he sloppily made you bob your head, saliva dripping down your chin and tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks as you gagged.

A loud moan escaped Jungkook at the feeling of your throat squeeze around him, “Fuck baby. That’s it. Good girl.” Your head was becoming light as you continued gagging on his cock, your nails digging into his thighs pleasantly and you could feel his cock throb and his hips lift.

Jungkook harshly pulled you up from his bobbing cock that looked ready to cum from even the slightest contact, “What a good girl,” Jungkook rasped, cupping your cheek as he thumbed away the tears that trailed your cheeks, “C’mere.”

You squeaked as Jungkook grabbed you, pull you up into his lap before shifting you onto the bed, your body trembled in excitement as Jungkook placed you on all fours, suddenly shoving your back against the bed and your face on the mattress as you whined, your ass presented for him as he moaned, “Such a good fucking girl. I should’ve fucked you sooner then this if I knew what a good little slut you were.” Jungkook let the tip of his cock sink inside you as let out a muffled moan, even being stretched wasn’t enough to prepare for his girthy cock.

Jungkook grunted was he pushed further inside you until his hips met yours, your walls squeezed snug around him but took him well as he moaned, “Fuck baby.” It’s all he said before he suddenly slammed into the bed, your weight completely thrown off and you had no choice but to let your face bury against the bed as you let out moan after moan, your walls excitedly clenching around him as he thrusted roughly inside you. Just hearing his balls slap against your skin, his cock splitting you open as he moaned, “Who knew my little slut would be so tiny. I’m gonna fucking break you baby, you want that?”

Jungkook leaned down as his hips roughly rolled yours, his hand wrapping around your throat making you wheeze before you could even answer.

“Hnngh! S-sir! Sir!” You could hardly even speak when Jungkook roughly squeezed your neck once more, your walls clenching around him in excitement as his cock rubbed into your g-spot pleasantly, “Fuck me please. Harder. Ah! Harder!” You whined, needing friction desperately.

Your wish was his command and it even fully expecting it Jungkook’s hips became sharper and faster with each thrust, “This what you want baby? You wanna be my little fuck doll now?” Jungkook growled in your ear, his hand squeezing around your throat once more making you moan as your upper body completely collapsed, letting Jungkook pound into your cunt as he moaned, “Thats it fucking take it you worthless bitch. Are you gonna cum all over my dick?”

Jungkook let go of your throat in trade for your clit, his thumb rubbing against your sensitive bud making you cry out, walls rapidly clenching around him as his cock slammed into your g-spot, your body withering at such an intense speed you weren’t sure you could stop yourself from cumming, “Ah! Sir! Sir! Ah!” Your walls were rapidly squeezing around his cock as your face scrunched, a loud muffled scream escaping you at your orgasm that snapped.

“Mmm fuck that’s it. Good girl.” Jungkook growled as his hips rolled into yours, letting himself sink inside your body milked his cock. His hands squeezing tightly against your waist as he moaned, hot cum shooting inside you as his hips grinded against yours, coaxing a few more spits of cum as he moaned. Your body trembling and exhaustion setting in as Jungkook inhaled sharply, his cock beginning to soften inside you before he pulled out.

Your body slumped as you felt the bed shift his weight no longer on the bed. You glanced his way only to realize he turned off the camera before laying back down, collapsing on top of you as you whined a little. It was quiet as he pressed his face into your shoulder as he sighed, “Well, at least we don’t act like virgins.”

“I’m glad that’s what you took away from that.” You huffed, you could hear a muffled laugh from Jungkook making a smile tug on your lips as well, he certainly wasn’t wrong.

“Fuck me please. Harder. Ah! Harder!”

That...was you…? You couldn’t help but cringe, you couldn’t even stand your own voice let alone making a whole porno, Jungkook’s eyes weren’t trained on your sinful words or even your sloppy body movements in sync. He was too into his videographer self to care about the actual content.

“At least I sound like a pornstar.” You wrinkled your nose as you looked over his shoulder. This seemed to pull Jungkook out of his thoughts as he snorted, a smile tugging on his lips as he glanced up at you with a shrug.

“I don’t think it’s bad honestly, I mean I think we’re past TMI at this point so truthfully? Out of all the home made porn I’ve watched this is pretty good. We have nice camera angles, microphones make the sound high quality-“

“Oh yes,” you replied sarcastically, “Just what I wanna hear- your balls slapping me at the speed of light.” That earned a rather proud look from Jungkook as you huffed, looking away from him.

“I think we should post it, just to test the waters. I cut out any clips of our faces, we could still use a little work on making sure to not show our faces with our angles but I think that will take time.”

You frowned a little as you wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling unsure if this was a good idea, “...You really think it’s that good?”

Jungkook raised his brows as he turned his chair around to look at you, sensing the shift in your demeanor as he relied, “Well we don’t have too if you don’t feel comfortable with it,” he offered a small smile, “But personally? I don’t see why not. And if it doesn’t take, we can always make more, feel out what people enjoy watching more.”

In most cases you would’ve said you didn’t feel comfortable with this, with the idea of strangers on the internet masturbauting to your private sex life but...there was something so sincere and comforting in Jungkook’s eyes, maybe it was just the dom in him wanting to prioritize your comfort over anything else. You weren’t sure, but it was that look that made it okay, “Alright, what the hell.” You sighed, “I didn’t let you blow my back out for no reason.”

Jungkook snorted as he turned his chair around, “Maybe it’s just me but I felt you clenching around me hard when you came all over my-“

“Shut up! Just because you fuck me doesn’t mean you can go into graphic detail about it! Jesus Christ!” You covered your ears, feeling hot all of sudden as you glared are Jungkook’s dumb coconut hair, though you couldn’t see his face fully you were positive there was a dumb little smirk on his lips as he hummed. God what did you get yourself into?

You had a hard time going to bed that night, rolling around as you briefly wondered the what if, what if it was an overnight sensation? What if someone you knew recognized it was you? What if...god you’d never show your face at campus again…

“Well?” You hadn’t gotten a blink of sleep as you bounced behind Jungkook who hummed, logging in as he yawned.

“It got ten views.” Jungkook clacked his tongue before shrugging, ��But I mean hey! We got two dollars!” You deflated as you smacked your forehead. That would be great if your rent was only two dollars higher rather than two hundred!

“Hey remember what I said,” Jungkook rubbed his eyes as he offered a sleepy smile, “We can always try different things, the more we post the more a viewership will build. Overnight sensations never happen anyways.” He seemed more relaxed about this then you. Sighing you collapsed on his bed as you curled up, “Well what do you propose we try next?”

Jungkook gave it some thought as he spun his chair around to face you before shrugging, “I don’t know...I mean, not to sound sexist or anything but I think we both know pornhub is pretty male dominated in viewership…” he offered a weak smile as you shrugged, “So...I don’t know, how would you feel about forced orgasms and bondage.”

Your head shot up to look at Jungkook’s pink cheeks as he gave a sheepish smile, choosing to not look at you as he rubbed his neck, “That took a sharp turn real fast...Maybe you shouldn’t be so vague though, a lot could happen during a scene like that.” It never failed to amuse you the way Jungkook would straighten up at the sight of your interest.

“Well, do you have any toys?” Jungkook asked as you gave him a face, “Oh come on, I won’t judge you,” he curved a brow as he gave a cocky smile, “It’s not like I haven’t blown your back out already. Do you even own any toys?” He decided to take on a new tactic as he held challenging mock in his tone, “Or were you just in that big of a drought-“

“Okay you asshole!” You glared at him as he gave a cheeky smile, “Yes I have a one. Just a bullet vibrator. Do you even own any bondage gear?” You curved a brow as he parted his lips, brows pinched almost in defense but no words escaped him.

Sighing Jungkook dropped his head in defeat, “No...but I bet we could prime some!” He suddenly jumped back up as you buried your hands against your face, “Hey I can’t help it! Most girls usually get freaked out when I try and start tying them up, I figured I’d just get proper bondage when I found someone to do it with.”

“Oh great.” You muttered under your breath as you curled up, “Glad I could offer the opportunity.” To that Jungkook gave an endearing smile. What had you gotten yourself into?

Despite the bondage handcuffs only taking two days to arrive, each day that passed made you more anxious, you really didn’t have a lot of time to be wasting. You and Jungkook and respectively kept your hands to yourselves meanwhile, but had discussed plenty of things, mainly camera angles, future ideas. Jungkook was sure this would work and hey, if he had that kind of faith, the very least you could do was admire it.

“You wanna use any safe words or?” Jungkook was currently straddling on top of you as he grabbed the cuffs that were laying beside you. They were leather, or faux leather- not the most comfortable feeling but durable for the next fifteen minutes.

You frowned before shrugging, “Why don’t we just use traffic lights?” It was fairly common in BDSM, “Unless you forget to check in…” you squinted a little suspiciously as Jungkook snorted, looking somewhat offended at your words.

“I always check in on my partners thank you very much-and yes that’s fine. Alright top off,” He gestured at your oversized sweatshirt, you glanced away from him as you shuffled a little, hearing him sigh as he spoke up, “It’s not like I haven’t seen boobs before- especially yours.” You scowled at him, “It doesn’t make it any less embarrassing!”

Jungkook’s nose scrunched, “How's it embarrassing?” He tilted his head looking oddly innocent despite having a vibratior laying next to him and a pair of handcuffs in his hands.

“Just take it off for me!” You blurted out before realizing what you just said, swallowing thickly before whining a little at the noise he made of contentment.

“All you had to do was ask, princess.” Jungkook’s hands were already pushing under your sweatshirt before pulling it over your head, “Awwh you were ready for me? Not even wearing anything underneath.” Jungkook was obviously setting the mood now despite the camera not being on, or maybe he was getting into his dominant head space, whatever it was it was working wonders on you.

Jungkook grabbed your hands before putting them above your head as you whined a little, “...maybe…” you squeezed your legs together in excitement, you had never had a partner use any toys on you before and, you couldn’t help but wonder how many times you’d cum in this session. Jungkook had already proven himself good in bed just by making you cum all over his dick.

You had discussed the scene in further detail yesterday, Jungkook had asked if it was okay to use fingers and tongue as well spanking and- you had embarrassingly said yes a little too fast, fast as in before he could even finish his sentence...you felt warm at just the memory or maybe it was from your binds being tightened as Jungkook hovered over you, “Is that good princess?” He whispered in your ear, you could feel the smirk coiling on his lips as you shifted.

Your thighs rubbed together and you had come prepared today in pink lacy panties that were undoubtedly wet now, “Yes...sir.” You mumbled as you heard his deep chuckle against the shell of your ear.

Sitting up right Jungkook licked his lips as his eyes slowly raked from your face, to your lips, all the way down to your chest were your nipples hardened against the cool air of the room, “Always so obedient.” He hummed as he say off of you, parting your legs a little so he could sit in between them as he asked, “Are you excited? Your clits gonna be numb by the time I’m finished.” His smile was cocky and arrogant, long gone was the sweet room mate you knew.

You wiggled your arms against your restraints as you whined a little, Jungkook’s body straightened a little before he pressed play on the camera which was held in a tripod at the edge of the bed right where you were placed.

He said it would...be perfect to see everything.

His hands placed against your thighs as he chuckled once more, “You’re so squirmy, are you excited to cum princess?” Your thighs were practically shaking in excitement and if your face was anything to go by the answer was obvious.

You nodded frantically, opening your legs a little more for him as he clacked his tongue, “I can’t hear you princess.”

“Please!” You immediately whined, a small smirk tugging on his lips as you continued, “I’ll be a good girl! I’ll cum when you want…!” Jungkook hummed as he pushes up the small skirt you were wearing, letting his fingers stroke against the lace as you jumped a little, trying to keep yourself from bucking against him.

“I’ll hold you to those words, little girl.” Jungkook gave you a sadistic grin and briefly, you realized he was right. Your clit wasn’t going to survive this, “I’m gonna edge this little clit of yours until you’re begging to cum. But you aren’t going to do a thing until I say so. Understand?”

He picked up the small bullet vibrator, usually you were excited when you heard the buzz of it coming to life, today however, you knew was going to be rough, “Yes sir.” You mumbled as he pulled down your panties, tossing them to the side as he pushed your skirt up, opening your legs as he moaned a little.

“Look at you, all wet and excited at the idea of this. You know what princess,” You jumped a little at the vibrator dragging along your inner thigh, “I think you’re looking forward to this. I think you’re excited to be edged until you’re crying. Isn’t that right princess? Are you gonna be a good girl and listen to me?”

You nodded frantically as you squirmed at the vibrator getting closer to your throbbing cunt, arousal was gushing from your entrance as Jungkook dragged a finger up your slit, inspecting his glossy finger pad before letting it drag over his tongue, a devilish smirk on his lips as you whimpered are the vibrator pushing against your entrance, “So wet baby, I could just push it right in.”

He pushed the tip inside you, the thrum of vibrators making you squeak a whine as you tries to instinctively close your legs, Jungkook immediately stopped you, forcing your legs back open as he chuckled, pushing it a little further inside as you clenched around the small pulsing toy, “Sir! Please! Please!” You whimpered as his thumb began to circle your clit, your toes curling and your lips parting as you went to grab his hand to grind it. Your range of motion was immediately cut off by your binds as you whined.

“Oh you like that baby?” Jungkook’s lips tugged into an animated pout as he mocked, “You like your clit being rubbed while you get fucked with your little vibrator.” He pushed the vibrator half way inside you as you squeaked loudly, jamming the tip into your g-spot as you let out a loud squeal, goes curling once more as your eyes snapped shut. His thumb tenderly stroking your clit until he found your sweet spot that forced breathy whines from your lips.

“Please! Please sir! Sir! Need cum! Please! Cum!” Your body withered and it was difficult to focus on anything when the vibrator was being jammed against your g-spot and Jungkook had a certain lazy touch against your clit that had you begging.

Jungkook as if sensing you were close, immediately pulled all contact against you as you whined in objection, “Oh we’re just getting started sweetheart.” Jungkook let the smirk tug on his lips as he shifted your legs back wide open for him, “Look at this mess sweetheart,” He growled, placing the vibrator back against your wet folds as you whimpered.

Dragging it against your slick cunt you let out a sharp cry at Jungkook placing it against your delicate clit, pleasure deliciously burning in your body as you squeaked and whimpered, “Ah! Sir…! Ah please…!” You squeaked, your toes curled as you whined, your eyes snapping shut as you tried to focus on anything but cumming immediately.

Jungkook, not feeling merciful pushed a finger inside you as you whined a loud moan, your walls clenching harshly as he shoved a second finger inside you, “That’s right baby, clench. You wanna cum yeah?” He growled once more, his voice even deeper then voice. Your back was arching and your legs thrashed as you choked on your moans.

“Please! Please! Let me cum sir please!” Your voice was bubbling and frantic as your hips jerked up to meet his second finger that pushed inside you, your hips trying to fuck your self on those thick long fingers he was slowly fucking in and out of your clenching tight cunt as he slowly dragged the vibrator along your clit in search of your sweet spot.

Jungkook chuckled at the pathetic sight of your hips, “Look at you, you’re so fucking despesate to be fucked you’re even willing to do it yourself, this little pussy is clenching so hard baby do you need to cum that bad?” His lips twisted into a mocked pout as he roughly jammed his fingertips into your g-spot, the vibrator pausing on your clit as he heard the loud shriek escape you, your back arching and toes curling at the overwhelming wash of pleasure that struck through your body.

Your lips parted and your walls were rapidly clenching as you cried out, “F-fuck….! Please! Sir! Fuck! Ah…! Ah! Cum…!” Your legs were kicking as his fingers shoved back inside you, his pacing picking up a little more as pleasure burned against your sensitive bud.

“Mm fuck, I can feel how bad you’re trying not to cum baby.” Jungkook licked his lips as the smirk formed on his mouth, his cock nearly rock hard at how tight your walls were becoming making it nearly impossible to move his fingers.

Your head was moving and your arms kept shaking as gasps and moans escaped you, it felt like a fucking demon was possessing your body due to this mans fingers shoving their way against your g-spot roughly while this vibrator continued drilling into your clit, your mind had turned to nothing but frantic cries and moans, “Cum! Please! Sir…!” You weakly begged.

A sudden gasp escaping you at the height of your pleasure, there was no way you’d be able to hold back, not with his fingers stuffing your cunt full and knowing just how to hit your sweet spot while he carefully hovered the vibrator over your clit, your thighs were jerking and your eyes snapped up before you let out a cry at everything suddenly being removed.

You kicked your legs in frustration as tears welled into your eyes, “What did I say princess?” Jungkook chuckled, leaning up to grab your face as he squished it between his hand, “You aren’t cumming until I say so.” His face went cold as he grabbed your thighs, forcing them back open as you whined, “Don’t be so fuckinf patehtic.” You jolted at the wad of spit that smacked against your dripping cunt, a loud cry escaping you ag the vibrator being shoved back inside you and aimmed directly against your g-spot, your back immediately arching as you whined as his lips attached to your clit.

His moans vibrates against your sensitive clit causing you to twitch and squirm as your lips parted at the feeling of his tongue flattening and rubbing against your bud as he stares up at you with a cocky lidded expression at the noise of your loud moans. Jungkook felt like it was music to his ears that he just needed to hear more of as he began thrusting the little bullet inside you making sure it was jabbing into your g-spot each time.

It illicted the exact reaction he had hoped for, that being your head being thrown back against the pillow and your thighs twitching as streams of moans escaped you while pleading, “F-fuck! Sir- please…! Please! Ah! Ah!” Your body was twitching in ungodly positions and he kept hearing your bonds rattle as you whimpered beneath him.

“Mmm that’s right baby, are you gonna give me your first orgasm?” Jungkook moaned as he pressed his tongue back to your little clit, flicking and playing with the little bud, “That’s it princess, I know you wanna cum.” And you sure did, your voice was high pitched and needy as your walls were rapidly clenching around the vibrator that was drilling into your g-spot.

Jungkook’s wet, warm tongue playing with your clit as he suckled against it, purposely prodding against your sweet spot before your body nearly went into shock at the orgasm you experienced. Your back arching and loud shines escaping you as you moaned, “Fuck! Fuck! Mmm! Ah! Ah…!” You had never in your life came as hard are you were right now, in fact, you were sure you blacked out for a half a second due to how amazing it was.

“Aah! Sensitive! Ah! J-sir! Sir! Yellow…!” You whined out as your legs squirmed at the overstimulation. At the sound of the yellow marker Jungkook pulled the vibrator from your cunt, letting out a soft laugh as he pressed a kiss on your inner thigh, “Mmm yellow baby? What about just another orgasm for me while you recover your guts?” Before you could even process his words his tongue was already back on your clit was a moan.

You squeaked loudly at the overstimulation once more which hurt but was admittedly much more tolerable especially after the first twenty seconds of whining before they quickly turned to moans and your legs kicking against his back as he hauled your lower body up, his fingers pushing back inside you as he moaned, “Fuck baby c’mon cum, cum all over my fingers princess I can fucking feel it.” Your eyes scrunched closed as you whimpered loudly, your body was frantically becoming overwhelmed at the feeling of his fingers fluidly thrusting, letting his pads drag over that little spongy spot that had you kicking your legs as your hips brokenly jerked against his tongue that lathed against your clit.

Your body was frantic and quickly becoming overwhelmed as you came hard once more, your toes curling and loud cries and moans escaping you as your back arched and your muscles rapidly contracted at the pure overwhelming pleasure your body was experiencing at the moment. Jungkook suckled your clit tenderly, his fingers sluggishly pumping inside you a your walls twitched and tightened around him deliciously making his cock throb in his pants, “Mmm that’s it baby, feel your tight little cunt wrapped around my fingers. How are you feeling baby?”

Jungkook pushed his fingers fully inside you once more making you whine a little as your walls clenched around them once more. Fuck you could hardly even think with his fingers stuffing you full, “Princess,” Jungkook said in a teasing sing song voice, a third finger tracing your little hole that was stuffed with his other two fingers, “How are you feeling.” He chuckled under his breath at the feeling of your cunt rapidly squeezing around his fingers at the feeling of his index finger teasing your entrance.

Your lips were parted and drool was nearly dripping down your lips as your hips lifted a little at the feeling, wanting to be stuffed as full as possible by this man, his third finger suddenly pushing inside you making you squeak out, “Green! Ah mmm! Green fuck!” Your hips tried to fuck up against him desperately in need to be filled by more then just fingers, your body was now fucked to the point of want that fat cock inside you and at this rate you knew you were going to start begging.

“Awwh my little cum whore wants to keep going?” Jungkook mocked a baby voice as he picked back up the vibrator, purposely pumping his fingers slow as your eyes snapped shut at the feeling of being nice and full of his fingers. Cries suddenly escapes you at the vibrator feathering over your clit making your squirm, “Please…!” You legs kept clenching and your clit was hypersensitive so even the slightest touch.

Your hips jerked and squirmed as Jungkook placed the head of the vibrator back against the sweet side of your clit, nearly moaning at how harshly you reacted your walls desperately clenched as pleasure seeped into your clit with every little thrum.

Your hands were trembling and weak having given up against your restraints as you whined weakly at the feeling of three fingers roughly shoving against your g-spot. This man was wrecking your body alive and you had no choice but to take it like the little bitch you had been turned into.

Your eyes were becoming watering and your squeaks breathy and whimpered as your body twitched violently at the slight shift in the vibrator pressing into your gorged bud. It had you spiraling out of control paired with Jungkook’s rough fingers making you cry and yelp, “ah….! Fu-fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Cock! Need cock! Need!” You were kicking and sobbing, fat tears trickling down your face as you moaned rapidly at your body violently cumming, almost too much for you to handle but Jungkook skilled as ever carefully guided you through your orgasm, “That’s it babygirl, that’s it.” He cooed out, your hips following each stroke of his fingers as your body came down from its peak it had hit.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl. What was that about my cock princess?” Jungkook’s smile was cheshire-like as he quirked a brow, just drinking up those big eyes brimmed with tears as you sniffled.

Kicking your legs a little you whined, “I- I need more! Please!” You managed to roll yourself onto your stomach, the chains twisted at the bar now but you had enough room to still be comfortable as you somehow managed to push your knee’s up to support your lower half to display your destroyed pussy.

Your legs were trembling and you admittedly felt pathetic right now, one thrust and this man was probably gonna make you collapse, especially after experiencing that dummy thick fire hydrant once already.

Just the idea had your legs trembling that much more though, you were ready to be destroyed. Your body stiffened at hands cupping both cheeks of your ass, “This is pretty fucking pathetic baby.” Jungkook chuckled, a loud smack rang out as you wiggled your ass a little at the sting of his palm meeting the soft flesh, “You need my cock that fuckin’ bad?”

“Please…!” You whined as you pressed your face against the bed, your pussy felt too empty right now clenching against nothing and you needed this man to rail you until you physically could not stand.

After a moment you let out a surprised squeal at the familiar fat cock smacking against your pussy, “Shittt baby, are you always gonna be this hungry for my dick?” Your face was burning at his whispered words in your ear, you could feel his smirk as you whined, backing against him as he moaned softly, letting his cock coat in your arousal before he lined himself up.

Jungkook wasted no time pushing inside you with ease, even anticipating it you forgot just how thick he was, biting your lip you moaned in relief at finally being filled the way you were craving. Even if you didn’t cum again you just wanted this monster cock to fill you up until you were leaking cum.

Jungkook pushed all the way inside you as he groaned, pushing his hair back as he gathered himself, “How are you feeling baby? How hard do you want me to go?”

You were so impatient you truly couldn’t help yourself when you began fucking yourself on his cock, your lips parting at how much your walls were clenching around his large size that kept sliding inside you with so much ease, “Hard…! Fuck! Fuck me until I’m leaking your cum please sir!”

You nearly screamed a moan at the force you were met with, your legs just as you suspected nearly crumbling like a two week old pack of crackers at the bottom of a purse from the god tier power this man was using to thrust.

His cock was slamming into you, his fat bulbous head continually jamming into your g-spot in a way his fingers couldn’t compare too as you rapidly clenched around him. The sound of his balls slapping on your skins and moans mixed together could beat your hands any day of the week, “You’re such a horny little slut.” Jungkook snapped as he slammed his hand against your ass making you cry out. Your legs violently trembling and aching in pain as he growled, “I made you cum until you're about to pass out and it isn’t enough baby? You still need this fat dick filling you up? You cock hungry little whore.”

Jungkook, keenly noticing how excited you were vocally but your body failing to keep up he quickly eliminated this problem. Grabbing both your thighs you were confused for a brief moment before letting out a loud squeal at the way he picked them both up leaving your upper body in the air and left mercilessly at his force allowing him to thrust into you that much harder.

Your lips fell open at the way he was forcing your hips to bounce on his clock roughly, his fat shaft sliding in and out of your soaked cunt that sucked him back in desperately each time, “Fuck! Fuck…! Ju- sir! Sir! Mmm! Cock! F-fu-fuck.”

You couldn’t even spew a sentence out anymore with your head filled with only thoughts of how he was holding your entire lower body up by your thighs and just kept drilling into your cunt like you were a feather weight. Drool was spilling your lips and you could no longer speak. Only able to make whined and moans now.

“That’s it baby, are you too fucked out on my cock to speak? Hm? Are you turned into a brain dead little cock monster now? My insatiable little cum dumpster.” All of his degradation was just fueling your further and further to the brink of an orgasm that your body was in no shape to handle.

His cock didn’t relent though, contially drilling into you like no tomorrow as he growled, “Fuck! You want me to use this little hole like a cum dump baby? Want me to make it nice and full.” You were filled with excitement all different kinds of whines escaping you making Jungkook’s moan, forcing your hips to bounce on his cock, his shaft rubbing against your g-spot with each stroke causing your body to contort and squirm, the orgasm flooded your body had you sobbing and whining, briefly black filtered your eyes before you opened them to feel hot liquid entering your body as Jungkook moaned, his hips lifting in chase of your cunt that sucked every little drop form him body. His body was floating on a euphoric high he had a difficult time coming down from when your cunt was clenched around him so hard.

He let his head drop a little as his cock began to soften, slowly slipping out of you before he set down your thighs, tucking himself back into his sweatpants Jungkook leaned over to grab the key off the nightstand he moved up a little more to undo your bonds and a small smile threatened to break on his lips at the sight of your completely fucked out face.

Your thighs were harshly trembling and you could hardly formulate a sentence let alone a single word, Jungkook whistled as he laughed, a hand tenderly rubbing into your hair, “You are so fucked out sweetheart.” He leaned down pressing a kiss against your forehead, “Let me go get a cloth and a towel to clean you up with okay baby? How does a nice hot bath sound.”

“I’m- I’m not completely useless…” you somehow spewed out an objectification making him laugh, “I- I can…” you grabbed the toy before slowly wobbling out of the bed.

“Woah woah woah.” Jungkook scrambled out of bed after you, your legs wobbling and you immediately knew there was no way you could possibly stand. Jungkook quickly scooped you up as he looked down at you bewildered, “I just rearranged all your intestines, you seriously think you could walk after that let alone stand.”

You pressed your face into his shoulder letting out a muffled giggle, embracing the skin ship that was much needed, “Yeah I just have this massive chicken brain that needs proof that it was good enough.”

“Good enough…?” Jungkook scrunched his face not understanding.

“Yeah it’s like my head needs proof that my body actually got destroyed.” You giggled against at Jungkook’s expression that was so obviously at a loss of what to say, having obviously never heard that before.

“...and was it proved…?” He quirked a brow.

“Clearly.” You looked at him before his arms that had you scooped against him causing you both to laugh once more as he placed you back on the bed were you nearly crumpled up immediately.

“Then stay there for real, I don’t wanna come back to seeing you sprawled out all over the floor because you needed hardcore proof.” You waved him off before shouting for him to bring water.

When Jungkook came back shortly after he snorted at the sight of you having made yourself comfortable on his bed, not only that but wearing his sweatshirt as well, “I turned off the camera by the way. My throat is so dry! Gimme.” You raised your arms as you grabbed the bottle from him as you opened it, closing your eyes as the cool liquid slid down your throat as Jungkook sat between your legs as you felt the urge to smile.

“...Did you get cum all over my bed?” Jungkook’s eyes darted around his comforter suspiciously as you shrugged, making him eye you suspiciously.

“Please- I feel like I’m a fucking gyno appointment right now, do I need to clean myself now too?” You whined kicking your legs a little, your pussy was literally right out in the open and this man could only focus on why you weren’t leaking?

Jungkook reluctantly began cleaning what left over cum remained in your thighs as he asked, “Did you stand up again?”

“I didn’t!” You protested, lips parted in offense that he really thought you’d pull another chicken brain moment. Jungkook only rolled his eyes, a smile threatening to tug on his lips as he stood back up, tossing the rag into his laundry hamper before walking over to his dresser. Putting the bottle of water on the nightstand you briefly admired Jungkook’s physique, his waist narrow compared to his broad shoulders and muscles sculpting his back….you knew he was kind of a gym rat but given he was always in such billowing clothes you never realized how defined he was.

If you were gonna make porn for the next two years you were glad you at least had a hot partner to do it with. Jungkook pulled the large shirt over his head.

You popped up into your forearms when he began disassembling the camera equipment making you pout, “Hey! What happened to my aftercare and bath I was promised?”

“God you are such a pillow princess after sex, I never would’ve thought.” Jungkook crawled up onto the bed before collapsing on top of you, making you laugh as you closed your eyes, “You know I did all the work this time.”

“Voluntarily might I add-“ you pointed as Jungkook rolled off you only for you to attach yourself back against him, “Also I didn’t realize you were THAT fit like seriously, you fucked my entire lower body up in the air. It really was a porno moment.” You snorted at the sight of Jungkook’s ears turning red and his cheeks looking a little pink at the compliment.

He shrugged a little, unable to say anything or more like he was just too shy to. Regardless he pulled out his laptop and lap stand already excited to edit the video despite just creating it. Yawning you crawled on top of him, collapsing against his chest as you closed your eyes, really wanting that bath but also incredibly tired.

Jungkook had straight away begun editing through the clips, watching them back over before his mind began to wander...Sliding through the time stamps Jungkook let it go at the end of the clip, watching you wobble as you stood on your knees on the bed. He furrowed his brows in confusion though a little amused at the way your legs wobbled up to the camera. Oh you must’ve been going to…

He mouth parted at watching you take the camera off the tripod, aiming it at your legs before spreading them to show off the white sticky substance leaking from your cunt before your fingers scooped it up, pulling the camera up to your neck and only your mouth was visible showing off the cheeky smile you had as you plopped your fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean before popping them out of your mouth before the screen went black.

Jungkook was partially speechless and admittedly a little hard, it was tempting to not ask if you genuinely didn’t have any experience in sex work. Jungkook twisted to look down at you, deciding to interrogate only for his expression to fall at the sight of you slumped on top of him, your eyes shut and he felt a little bad at how much you wanted aftercare.

Pushing a strand of hair from your face he made a mental note to make up for it in the morning. Going back to editing he placed one hand in your head as he tenderly stroked your scalp. This would be posted in no time.

You loved aftercare, you always craved it after a nice round of rough sex even if it was a one night stand. It was just payment for letting a man spit in your face and call you a whore- quite literally. Jungkook, wasn’t the greatest aftercare but hey, he was making it up this morning. He had gotten you a bath drawn first thing in the morning, massaged your back, gave little kisses all over your skin. You were in heaven.

“Is this making up for me being a horrible partner last night,” You were laid out, sleepily with your eyes closed as Jungkook tenderly worked his palms back on your shoulder blades, “I saw what you did by the way. Not impressed.”

You tucked your tongue into your cheek as you smiled playfully, looking up at him over your shoulder, his head shaking as you giggled, “I thought it was a great touch to end the video. And yes, this makes up for it but I’ll only let it slide once, I’m a big aftercare slut which means you put me first before our videos. No exceptions.”

“Even if we’re desperate for money and need a video up quickly?” Jungkook raised his brows, obviously amused at your dim expression, a wad of the blanket was set for your chin to rest on as your lips jutted a little.

“No exceptions. Especially after a session like that!” You whined, admittedly you didn’t care that much, it was late at night and you were passed out anyways but still, you needed to make that clear if this continued in the future, you liked being held and told a lot of praise. It was the only way you didn’t feel gross after sex.

“Fine fine! I’m sorry! I didn’t realize you were such a needy baby,” You squirmed at Jungkook pinching your waist making you jump, “What? I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

“No! No! No!” You screeched at his fingers relentlessly prodding your sides as you squirmed up, pulling the sweatshirt down as you glared at him, “Get off of me!” You whined pushing him away, “I’m fine! I’m great! No need for anymore.” You rubbed your sides with another pout.

Jungkook snorted as he leaned back on his hands, “That’s what I thought.” Leaning over he grabbed his laptop off the nightstand, crawling over you collapsed against his side as he typed in the password for your account.

You didn’t expect much truthfully until your eyes lit up at the 10+ notifications you had, “Looks like our luck is up this time!” You bounced in excitement as Jungkook clicked on it only for yours lips to drop.

33,623 Views

“No way!” Your jaw dropped as you scrambled for your phone, Jungkook just as shocked as you as he scrolled down through the notifications of people commenting and sharing the video. There was no coming back from this at all. You couldn’t help but feel daunted at the greasy comments people left.

Your brows shooting up as you logged into your joint account, “How much did we make?” Jungkook asked, his lips parted as he clicked through the account attempting to find the salary you both had made.

“We...definitely covered the cost of our rent.” You could hardly even speak as Jungkook leaned over your shoulder to peer at your screen, over six thousand dollars in the account at the moment, you could do a lot with that kind of money…

Jungkook could hardly believe it himself as he leaned back on his hands, letting out a breath before running a hand through his hair, “Holy shit.”

It was silent between you both, still staring in disbelief at the money piled in your bank account before you looked at him, “We’re totally eating out tonight, at one of those bougie ass restaurants. My pussy earned it.”

Jungkook let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head as he gave you a smile, “Fair, not too fancy though, they’ll think we robbed a bank.” You couldn’t help but giggle, feeling relieved as you collapsed against the bed. You could totally do this, and when it was all said and done. You could just delete your account and it’d all be over

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x y/n smut #jungkook imagine #bts imagine #bts smut

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ink-on-the-brink · 2 years

Text

Engie x Reader ~ Built Up Stress (Part 1)

Pt 2

Summary: The stress of a normal day at Tuefort is already hard enough as it is. Lay a streak of lost battles, thrown blame, and a week ceasefire with no Medic on top and it's all down hill from there.

A/n: I wrote this a while back on my wattpad account but decided I should finally post it here. So the writing style's a bit different, just a heads up

You were not a very confrontational person. You hated making anyone upset for really any reason and being yelled at for your own mistakes was probably the worst thing you think could ever happen to you. This is why it was so strange to see you in a place like this. You were surrounded by nine mercenarys, most of which were loud. Very very loud. You could practically hear Soldiers voice from the other side of the building! But thankfully you were never the cause of their screaming.

You weren't a mercenary in any way that the others seemed to interpret the word. Sure you knew how to shoot a gun but that was mostly for self defense purposes. You were actually tasked as a nurse. Usually if someone had an injury that didn't result from a battle, they came to you. It was mostly because The Administor had Medic working on a few experiments and she didn't need him bothering with small injuries every ten minutes. Ceasefire days were always busy days for you. The others just couldn't seem to control themselves around each other, most of them couldn't even be in the same room for more than two minutes! But you digress.

Today just happened to be one of those days but one thousand times worse. There was a ceasefire so that a meeting could be held regarding your team's poor performance lately. You, obviously, weren't told to come to the meeting due to it not really being your job. You had also been informed that the ceasefire would spand over a week just so the team could get their shit together.

Or at least that's what the guys had been telling you.

You suspected it was more so because Medic had found some interesting information out while experimenting and needed to take a trip to go present his findings.

Either way that left you as the only doctor left in the building on a week long ceasefire with more than easily agitated mercenaries.

This was definitely going to be a pain in the ass.

But at least you had Engies workshop to head to when you wanted to decompress. You always enjoyed being in there. It was just loud enough with the sound of clanking metal to drown out all the other men who were constantly screaming while also being quiet enough to help you relax. And thats not to mention that Engie was almost always there.

For some reason the Texan always knew how to bring a smile to your face. His calm and polite demeanor meshed well with your slightly reserved nature. If there was anyone you could count on staying calm it was Engie. Hell you can't even remember seeing the man more than mildly annoyed. He wasn't afriad to stand his ground if he needed to, but he was always eerily calm about it. It was just the type of company you enjoyed having around.

Lately you have been enjoying it just a bit more though...

You found that your heart started to flutter at the sound of his voice and your face heated up when he spoke about you in any positive manner. To put it in simple terms you were falling for him. How could you not? His southern drawl lured you in and there was no resisting those emerald green eyes, even if seeing them was a rarity.

You wouldn't know what to do without him...

Once you had come to that realization you knew you had to confess to him. But you also knew you wouldn't have time with the week long ceasefire. So you made a promise to yourself that the day Medic is back you're going to take him out of the base for a night and find some really cheesy way to ask him out. He always liked those really cheesy romance movies.

You could only hope that he felt the same way you did.

Engie felt his blood begin to boil hotter and hotter in the passing months. His team was really starting to piss him off. How was he supposed to be able to do his job if no one was stopping any oncoming enemies long enough for him to build?! And that's not to mention the amount of times his own team had managed to blow up all of his hard work! And he was being blamed for this!? It was complete and utter bullshit!

But at least he could look forward to having you around...

Ever since the first week of you joining he had found that you really liked his workshop. He couldn't blame you, he spent a lot of time in that room just trying to escape the others too. The conversations you both had always brightened his day since you never spoke ill or tried to start fights, unlike the others. If anything you were almost always descalating, something he found rather admirable.

It was when you were silent that he got a more clear picture of your personaily though, which was strange considering he found it to be the other way around with any other person he's met in this line of work. He could tell you were more of an observant type. Sometimes when he saw you around he would just watch you for awhile, anylizing how your eyes traced the room. No matter how chaotic it was you managed to stay calm and quiet while watching, as if studying the different ways each of them functioned. It was rather strange for him to see the same trait in someone else. He was used to being the one waiting for things to turn sideways so that he could fix it, a job that became easier once he had someone else helping him do so. It was great to know there was someone he could relate to in this place.

He didn't think he could actually run this shit show without you.

It was day four of the week-long ceasefire and you were beyond exhausted. There had been eleven major fights in the passing days and at least thirty smaller ones. You had seen almost every person in the base make it to the medbay at least once, even Engie! The worst part of it had to be that it was starting to disrupt your sleep! They would come banging on your door in the middle of the night with some injury or another and you would have no choice but to get out of bed to help them. In the past three nights you had gotten a grand total of three hours of sleep so you could barely function at this point.

No one really noticed though.

You were just always so quiet and tucked away that none of them ever really took notice of you. Even when you had to heal their wounds they were always too busy explaining how they had gotten hurt and going on angry rants to pay attention to anything you were feeling.

Today was a particularly hard day for you. You had to put Soldiers hand back on, stop Sniper from bleeding out from a severe knife wound, help Heavy with a black eye and stop Demo from going on a drunken rampage immediately after waking up from a head injury. Now all that alone wouldn't be too bad...

If it weren't for the fact that everyone seemed to just be yelling at you

"MAGGOT! WORK FASTER! I MUST GO CAVE IN MORE SKULLS!"

"I ain't got all bloody day!"

"Leetle nurse must vake up! Heavy needs doktor!"

God it never ended! You were just so exhausted! You needed a break. A break from the yelling, the screaming, the stupid fights and most of all their rants they just seemed to want to burden you with. You needed at least a five minute breather...

And there was really only one place to go where you hopefully wouldn't be found.

You walked down the halls in a slightly hurried pace. The last thing you wanted was to be pulled back to the Medbay for another stupid injury. Luckily you made it to the workshop with no interruptions. You went to open the door only to notice it was locked causing your eyebrows to immideately furrow. Engie never locked the workshop door. It was almost always open for when you were having a stressful day. With confusion and slight concern you gave the door a weak knock.

"Go away! Ah don't want no company rahght now!" Engie yelled with a frusterated tone, distain written in his words. Unknown to you, Engie was tiredly sprawled across the ground, a little more than half drunk with many broken machines next to him.

He didn't really want to talk about it...

Due to the past couple of days you have spent just trying to talk loud enough for everyone to hear, you didn't really want to speak up. So you just simply knocked again, hoping he would get the message.

"What'd ah tell ya! Leave me be!" You let out a sigh and hoped that if he heard it was you he'd let you in.

"Dell..." You finally spoke, your voice tired and quiet. He recognized it but due to his anger clouded mind mixed with a bit of achoal, he just wasn't in the right mindset to fully understand the consequences of what he was about to do.

He angrily stood up from his spot and stomped to the door. He practically slammed it open with you just barely managing to dodge the door in time. You were utterly confused by his actions and the uncommon anger that was implied in them. He soon held a glare on you as his voice raised.

"HOW MANY TIMES AH GOTTA TELL YA TA LEAVE ME ALONE!? FOR Y'ALL TA LEAVE ME ALONE! Y'ALL HAVE DONE NOTHIN BUT BOTHER ME FOR THE PAST COUPLE'A DAYS AND AH'M SICK'A HEARIN IT! AND YOU! YA THINK YA CAN JUST COME IN HERE WHENEVER YA WANT DON'T YA!? DON'T YA HAVE WORK TA DO!? YOU'RE A POOR EXCUSE FOR A NURSE IF AH'VE EVER SEEN ONE! YA'VE DONE NOTHIN BUT RUN AWAY FROM EVERY GODDAMN FAHGHT ONLY TO SHOW UP WHEN IT'S OVER! YOU'RE NOTHIN BUT A COWARD! NOW WHAH DON'T YA JUST RUN OFF AND LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!"

A long silence followed as you were left completely stunned. He stood only inches from you, his face burnt red with released rage.

He had snapped...

You coward away from him, truly terrified of the man that stood in front of you. You had never even seen him mad before, let alone this angry. He was practically bursting with pent up fury that was all now directed towards you.

His anger melted away seconds after the outburst and due to it he had sobered up a little. The sudden realization of what he'd just done left him completely and utterly shocked with himself...

He had just let all of his pent up anger, all of his built-up stress and frustration out on you. He knew the severity of what he had just done when he saw your eyes just barely weld with tears that you tried to hide. He took a step back from you as he noticed just how much of a disheveled state you were in. You held heavy bags under your eyes and it was only just occurring to him how tired your voice sounded when you had called his name.

He...

He shouldn't have snapped like that.

You were the last person he should have yelled at. Hell he shouldn't have yelled at you at all! He felt immideate regret take him over as you turned away just in time for tears to fall from your eyes.

"I-I'm...I'm sorry sir, you're right I...I should probably get back to work..." you barely managed to mutter the sentence to him before quickly walking away, not even so much as glancing back at him. He was left completely frozen in his spot.

'...sir?...' The word played in his mind. You hadn't called him that since the first day he'd met you.

Oh he's screwed up...

Oh he's screwed up bad...

After not moving for a moment he slowly backed up into his workshop, closing and locking the doors once again. He grabbed another full carton of beer before slowly heading back to his spot on the floor.

He no longer held rage and bitter hatred but was instead filled with an overwelming amount of regret and self-loathing. He found himself back on the floor as he tried to process his own actions. He couldn't help but want to slam his head against a wall. He couldn't believe he had said those things to you, hell he couldn't believe he ever even thought of yelling at you, let alone screaming in your face!

He had just lost the one thing that was keeping him even slightly sane in this hellhole. You joining the team had been a godsend to him. Talking to you while he worked on his machines was one of his favorite ways to pass the time...but now...now he was sir again, not even Engineer, no, you called him sir.

How in the hell was he going to fix this?

You made it to your room, once again without incident which was frankly a miracle. Once there you slammed your door behind you before collapsing onto your bed. You quickly grabbed one of your pillows and burried your face in it in an attempt to muffle the sobbing that you couldn't stop from leaving you. Sure you had been yelled at all week but none of it was really anger towards you. It was always them being frustrated that they couldn't get back to yelling at the others fast enough or because they were in a lot of pain but you had never been yelled at by him and it had never been about you...

Had you really been slacking in your job? You thought you had been working so hard recently, hell you barely slept over it!

You did run away from fights though...

Should you have tried to stop them? What could you have done better? You should have worked harder for everyone! You shouldn't have slacked off so much! You should have been at every fight!

You shouldn't be such a coward...

That word really stung, mostly because it was true. You were even crying just because you were yelled at! You didn't even yell back!

You couldn't have even if you wanted to...

You couldn't believe that he thought of you that way. You felt stupid for thinking the two of you were getting along well, that you had grown feelings for him, that you were going to confess.

Soon enough you managed to cry yourself to sleep. God you were exhausted.

"NURSE! WE NEED YER HELP! NOW!" You pulled yourself away from your pillow in a very groggy state. You could feel the tear stains that still covered your face as they stuck to the pillow. You managed to slowly pull yourself out of bed and make it to the door, not feeling a need to rush anything anymore. You opened it to see Demo frantically trying to hold a clear gunshot wound shut.

"What" you calmly replied, though there was a hidden sharpness in your tone. He, as nearly everyone in this base does, ignored your current state. He was in too much pain to notice or even really care.

"The medbay's full! Everyone got in a huge fight!" you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Tell me something new" you muttered before pushing past him and speed-walking to the medbay with him following quickly behind. If he was the one that was sent to get you, that meant the others were either in much worse condition or couldn't walk and that means you have your work cut out for you. In a matter of seconds you were in the medbay and saw that every last one of the men were in there...

Even him...

You sighed once again before putting your hands to work.

"MAGGOT! WORK FASTER! WE HAVE THINGS TO DO!"

"Whoy are ya workin on him! I'm bleedin out over here!"

"Forget da piss man! I can't feel my legs!"

"I called yeh down here! Least yeh could do is yer bloddy job!"

The screaming never ended and Engie sat horrified at some of the things his teammates were yelling at you. He saw your stress levels continuing to rise, each threshold surpassed being hidden under a sickly calm exterior. He had already felt bad before but now he just felt like a completely and utter asshole. He seemed to be the only one who noticed the dried tear stains on your face or how droopy your once bright eyes now were.

He began to wonder if you had even slept last night...

You were starting to feel dizzy and lightheaded from the amount of lost energy. You were already physically and mentally drained from the insane amount of work you had been doing and now you were severely emotionally drained due to having lost your largest sense of comfort in this crazy place. You were halfway through stitching up Sniper when you were hit with a strong wave of exhaustion. You stumbled a bit and pulled the tools away, steadying yourself on a nearby bed.

"Now ain't no time ta rest!" Sniper yelled with the others soon joining in. When they got no response they suddenly fell quiet.

"...nurse?..." You collapsed onto the floor. Your lack of sleep and built up stress had finally taken it's toll. Sniper tried to catch you but managed to only grab you with his injured arm, causing him to almost immideatly lose the grip dooming you to fall to the ground. The room fell completely silent...

What were they supposed to do now?

Engie was the first to get up from his spot. Even if he had blood still leaving from a wound on his leg and most likely had a broken rib, he needed to make sure you were alright. He knelt beside you and started looking you over.

"Y/n?! Are ya alright!?" He was checking for some type of injury that might have caused you to so suddenly fall but there didn't seem to be a single scratch on you.

The only thing to blame was the dark circles held under your eyes...

"Are zey 'urt?" Spy spoke up, his tone of concern either genuine or greatly preformed. Engie turned to the team with hatred no longer hidden under his goggles and hardhat.

"No...but they look like they haven't slept in days..." Sudden looks of guilt crossed their faces as they all began sneaking glances at one another.

They all knew they were at fault for disturbing your sleep and the shared expressions didn't go unnoticed by Engie.

"Y'know, ah've been sittin here just listenin ta all of y'alls non-stop yellin...do y'all have somethin against 'em? Cause they've done nothin but trah and help you poor excuses for men and y'all have done nothin but treat them lahke shit" Engie spoke with a sharp tounge, his contempt for their actions being very noticeable. While everyone's looks of guilt grew Spy gave a subtle glare to Engie

"Zats amusing coming from you..." Spy spoke with a knowing tone, catching nearly everyone off guard. Engie returned the glare, though his confusion was still highly noticeable.

"Now just what is that supposed ta mean snake?" His voice lowered to a threatening tone which only earned him a scowling smirk from Spy.

"To quote you 'zeir a coward. A poor excuse for a nurse zat does nozing but run from a fight...' Or were you too drunk to remember zat you said zat?" Spy spoke with a slick and venomous tone, buring his words into Engies head. The others looked to Engie with furrowed eyebrows and questioning stares.

"Now you hold on just a minute-!"

"Do not try and explain it away, you are just as guilty as ze rest of us...and I zink we all owe an apology..." Spy suggested with all around agreeance from everyone. All except for Engie who was rather conflicted as he looked back down at you. He still didn't want to believe he said that to you, he didn't even slightly believe in anything that he had said!

But no matter how much he wished it hadn't happen that wasn't going to fix it...

There was silence for a moment before you started to wake up. Your head pounded, your eyes begged to stay shut and you felt as if your whole body was sore. When you finally pushed your eyes open you noticed that the entire team was staring at you.

Oh no...

You quickly sat up and saw that Engie was beside you, sending waves of dread through you with his worry filled face. You looked around, quickly noticing the almost choking air that filled the room.

"What happened?" You finally broke the tense silence with a weak and wavering voice. The men turned to each other for answers. In the end Spy was the one who spoke up.

"It seems zat you passed out...are you feeling alright nurse?" Spy spoke as if the conversation that had happened while you were passed out hadn't even occurred. As you took in the information your face grew cold. You cursed yourself for being so weak, so unable to just keep it together. Slowly you stood and dusted yourself off with eerily cold movements. The men noticed the new look on your face which they all internally winced at. They had never seen you so...

Gone...

You gave a nod to Spy before turning to the others. Engie and Spy still needed to be treated and you were almost done with Sniper. Realizing that the work was almost over you took a deep breath before speaking.

"Anyone who does not need immideate medical attention must leave the medbay." You spoke to the men with an icey voice that felt strange coming from you. They gave you concerned looks, most being unsure how to approach this situation.

"Nurse...are yeh sure-"

"Now" you cut Demo off with a deadly tone, one you've never used before, at least around any of them. The men had never seen you talk back to someone, especially in such an aggressive manner. Seeing as you were already angry they decided it would probably be best if they left you to calm down. All but three men left the room. Once they were gone you silently got back to working on Sniper. He chose not to speak the entire time, instead giving you a worried glance that you avoided looking at.

You just needed to get this done.

You finished him rather quickly. He was going to finally say something when you pushed him out of the medbay. Next you went to Spy. A dislocated arm and a bullet wound to the shoulder. Easy enough. It would have been much easier if Medic would have left his medigun but there's really no use in complaining about it now. Just as you popped his shoulder back into place he spoke up.

"Nurse...are you alright?" Spy tried asking only to receiving chilling silence. Noticing how upset you were he relized he'd have to try a bit harder than that. Just as you finished stitching up his bullet wound he gently grabbed your shoulder, immidetaly catching your attention.

"I would like to 'elp you, but you must tell me what ze problem is first." he spoke in a calm and caring tone, one rarely seen from the usually mocking man. For a moment you were surprised by the sudden care from the cold backstabber. In the end you remembered that he was a womanizer. He was skilled in using soft touches and twisted words to get the desired result and you weren't falling for it. You harshly pulled away from him, once again showing him a cold and uncaring look.

"The only problem is you assuming you know what's better for me" your tone was harsh which was very effective in shutting him up, seeing as you had never been so agitated before. Spy had a rather clear understanding of why you were acting this way.

Spy felt a tinge of pity for you.

You reached over and grabbed a pill bottle before handing it to him.

"Take one every morning and right before bed until Medic's back. It should help with the pain for the most part." Your voice was detached, so far from the empathetic tone all of them were used to. He only gave a nod before standing and leaving from his spot. He glanced back to Engie who he noticed was staring at you with regret written all over his face.

And to think only moments ago he was calling them all poor excuses for men...

Spy closed the medbay doors behind him, leaving you and Engie to solve your problem in peace. The pit in your stomach swelled as you turned to Engie. You didn't dare look him in the eyes, not wanting to fall victim to whatever stare he was giving you. You eventually did catch a glimpse of it and, even though the look pulled at every last one of your over sympathetic heartstrings, you managed to keep your cold exterior, not wanting to award him the satisfaction in seeing you so broken down over him. You walked over in complete silence, each step harshly echoing off the bloodstained tiles.

Neither of you dared to speak to one another...

You began looking over his wounds and he half-heartedly answered every question you had. Even if silence was most of what was left Engie didn't stop staring at your eyes, anylizing each unfamilar glance you'd give him.

Those eyes stared at him as if he were a stranger

You did your best to avoid eye contact and just get your job done. You knew that you'd normally melt when seeing the rare emerald color and now you were pretty sure that same color would lead you to a complete breakdown.

"Your rib isn't broken but it's definitely bruised. You will need to take some pain medication and-"

"Ah'm sorry" his voice spoke in such a soft tone that it was almost inaudible, even in the silence of the room. You froze, not finishing your previous sentence as your mind debated accepting the apology. You had lived most of your life like that anyway. What's one more accepted lie? What's one more thing to brush over as a mistake just so that you can continue to care for a person...

Yet you felt something else in you break as well. It wasn't just your heart that laid shattered at the actions of the man you loved.

It was your trust too...

You hardly trusted people, often finding that they would stab you in the back at a moment notice. But you had trusted Dell anyway. You trusted him with your heart and he dropped your fragile emotions from a skyscrapper.

With no response you walked over to the medicine cabinet and grabbed another pill bottle. You walked back over to him and stretched your arm out to hand him the bottle, acting as if he had said nothing. That's what those words meant to you now. Absolutely nothing.

"This will be all you need sir. Now if you could please leave the Medbay...I have more work to do..." Your words stung him about as much as a stove top. You didn't look at him, you didn't even acknowledge his words. You simply kept your head turned and waited for him to take the thing you were required to give him.

He hated that you didn't look at him, he hated that you called him sir, he hated that you were so cold.

He reached for the pills but grabbed your hand with it, an action that stopped the beating of the shattered peices remaining in your chest. He pulled you closer to him, causing you to finally look at him with an emotion other than indifference. Before you could speak or push him away he wrapped his arms around you, hoping that by doing so he'd be able to mend what he had done. He didn't want to see you like this, especially because of something he did.

You felt tears weld in your eyes. You wanted this comfort, you wanted to melt into his arms and just break down.

But you couldn't...

He already thought of you as a coward, you didn't want to be a crybaby on top of that. You needed to be more aggressive, work harder and stop leaning on him for support. He had expressed it very clearly...

He wanted you to leave him the hell alone...

So that's what you were going to do. You hesitantly tried to push him away but his firm grip didn't allow it. This was his desperate attempt and his body was incapable of understanding that the person he'd once seen as so kind would be the same person that pushed him away. So you pushed against the part of his chest where the rib was bruised, knowing that was the only way you'd be able to convey the message that you weren't pushing in an attempt to keep up with your new act, but that you were genuinely not accepting his apology. He let go after that. You completely pushed yourself away from him and he felt his entire heart drop.

This wasn't going to be solved that easy...

It took a lot for you to truly trust someone, and once you did you took every single word straight to heart. You had trusted him, loved him even.

And he told you, you weren't good enough...

"...Go..." You told him. Your voice was firm and the look you gave him made him feel sick. He knew it was bad but he didn't think it was that bad.

What had he done

"Wait Y/n please Ah-"

"I SAID GO!" You stood up to him, your voice booming in a way that utterly terrified him. You had never raised your voice before, let alone at him.

He'd ruined all of this...

Not daring to retort he simply lowered his head and walked out of the room, feeling nothing but regret and shame

Part 2

#reader x tf2 #tf2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 engie #engie #tf2 engineer #hurt comfort #hurt/comfort

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tnystrk-exe · 3 years

Text

Estocolmo 2

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

First Chapter

Warnings: 18+ Oral M receiving, daddy kink, someone walks in

Word count: 5.7k

Chapter Two

The light streaming in through the window woke you up. You curled up in the soft silk sheets, listening to Hannibal’s hums coming from the bathroom. Deciding there wasn’t much more to do than doze, you did just that, taking your time to enjoy your Monday morning. His bed was much softer than the hand me down one you kept at home. You really could lay here forever.

It wasn’t until the bed dipped that you opened your eyes. He was all ready dressed and groomed to the nines. The navy sweater and grey trousers seemed as homey as the man allowed himself to be.

“Hello, handsome,” you greeted.

“Good morning, darling.” Hannibal cupped your face gently, smiling when you leaned into his touch. “It’s marvelous to see you so relaxed, it’s not a sight I get to see often. You’re divine.”

“Devine,” you scoffed in disbelief, “I haven’t had a glimpse of it yet, but I’m sure I look nothing less than a wreck.”

Hannibal’s thumb stroked your jaw, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. “When it’s my fault you look so utterly debauched, I can’t lie and say my pride doesn’t play a factor.”

“There it is,” you couldn’t help rolling your eyes as you dropped a kiss to his hand, “Always taking pride in everything you do. However, much to your dismay, I’m going to have to destroy your masterpiece. A shower does sound perfect right now.”

“Of course, I took the liberty of running a bath for you.”

“Sweet man,” you smiled fondly at him.

Bringing you closer he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. As always, he left you wanting more. This time though, you didn’t chase after him. The night of fun was done. All that was left was the goodbye to wrap up the event completely. Some part of you wanted to push that time back.

You hummed lightly, “You enjoy making it hard to not miss you.”

“All the sweeter when we reunite.”

“Sure, whatever you say.”

He tapped your cheek playfully, “Take your bath. I’ll have breakfast ready by the time you’re done.”

Getting out of bed, you stretched. Hannibal’s fingertips ghosted along your spine. “From the looks of it, you’d be happier to help.”

“Simply admiring… You truly are a thing of beauty.” he squeezed your hip before taking his hands away, “I’ll leave some of my things for you to wear on the bed.”

Walking into the bathroom, you were taken by the soft scent of nearly familiar perfumes you’d wear, his cologne lingered ever so slightly. A perfect mix of the two. Looking in the mirror, you surveyed the wreckage. Runny mascara, smudged over lipstick, and rather large hickies scattered across your body did make you look like the definition of debauched. The neck didn’t have as much damage, but covering the few there would still be a pain. So much for keeping things hidden from others. Grabbing the pack of makeup wipes on the counter, you started cleaning up knowing you’d find it to be too much of a chore after the bath.

It was welcoming when you finally got into the still warm bath. Hot water made you relax further as your body let go of the last bit of tension it held. The products seemed to match the ones you usually used, if not make yours seem like cheap dupes. Your lip quirked at that realization, the gentleman seemed to have had ulterior motives after all.

You took your time washing up, deciding time to relax was sparse so you may as well take advantage of the small time frame you did have. A soft knock at the door pulled you back to the present. “Afraid I drowned?” You asked teasingly as the door opened.

Hannibal offered a quiet chuckle as he walked over and perched on the side of the tub, “Asleep more like.”

You didn’t bother hiding yourself. He’d probably be able to draw you from memory by now if you were being honest. “I do have a question.”

“What is it, darling?”

You gestured to the soaps, “Did you have any plans in particular for our night?”

“Not exactly. The night ended perfectly- you wouldn’t mind me saying-” Hannibal tapped your chin affectionately when you smiled, “but there wasn’t anything other than pure intentions when I purchased them. The scent reminded me of you and I thought if you drank too much or there was a storm, those kinds of things, it would be good to have something for you to use. Sending you out into possible dangers was never something left to chance. You’d be safer with me.”

“Ever the good host,” you said, taking his word for it, “Thank you for thinking of me, Hannibal.”

“Always.” Hannibal rolled up his sleeves, moving to sit behind you. “Lean back for me.”

You turned to look at him questioningly, “What are you doing?”

“I find it very important to take care of my partners just as much after. You didn’t give me much of a chance last night. While I’m here, I may as well make myself useful.”

Allowing him to turn you forward again before he grabbed the shampoo and conditioner. You sighed heavily as he massaged the shampoo in, his fingers working magic. “You took care of me,” you argued, “Asked me what I wanted and gave it to me. I didn’t want anything else.”

“It’s just as much for me as it is for you,” he stated, running some water through your hair, “I like to make sure nothing was too much or that you’re not telling me if it was.”

“I’m as good as I’ve been in a long time. Really. If I hadn’t wanted something to happen I would have stopped you. Though, if I had known things would have ended like this I would have stopped by when we had more time. Testing before winter break would have been all that much easier.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t be of service earlier,” he mused. “A difficult time that must have been for my sweet girl. Poor thing.”

The urge to sink into the water was strong as you felt the smallest bit of pride at the endearment paired with an equally small bout of jealousy that you shared it with his other partners. It was snuffed out quickly. Perhaps you’d entertain this for a while, but it wouldn’t last. He liked a life that was above and usually too stiff compared to your own. The pair of you weren’t meant to work long term and that was fine. A simple passing thing between friends was the most this would be.

Things went back to business as usual after that night. There weren't any intense feelings or need for Hannibal. There wouldn’t be any time to entertain the idea even if they had popped up. Not with this insane work piled on top of you and the final test you needed to study up on. The most you had seen him was in passing or when he’d drop off a meal every so often. Though you wouldn’t lie and say your mind hadn’t found itself wandering every so often.

There was nothing you could do about that, so instead you took shifts, grading work then studying. Rinse and repeating the cycle as long as you could handle it. Your head was pounding before you knew it, but all of this needed to be done. A little bit longer, you reminded yourself as you took a couple headache pills.

The buzzing of your phone vibrating on the desk startled you. “Hi, dad,” you sighed, stuck with this particular pain.

“Hey, pretty girl, how have you been?”

Pretty girl, you scoffed inwardly. You had to give him credit- at least he was pretending to be interested this time. That was rare. “Nothing much. Work. School. The usual. It’s been heavy lately.”

“Yeah, of course, things get like that. So listen, your mom and I are running real low late-“

“I already told you I wasn’t any good for money. I’m barely making ends meet as it is… I already sent you the last $600 I could,” you rested your head in your hands, “I’m sorry.”

“Well, what the fuck do we send you to that school for,” he shouted, “It’s a waste of time. You’re not gonna make anything of yourself. All you do is waste fucking time. Everything we do for you and you just take it all for granted. What type of selfish bitch of a kid doesn’t try to help out her parents?”

“Yeah, dad, I take everything for granted. Putting myself through school should have been a breeze. Juggling school and two jobs? Simple fucking shit right? You should know, right? Wait… you couldn’t even raise your kid could you?” You snapped the stress getting to you. “Why the hell do you always do this to me?”

No response. He hung up. The truth of the matter seemingly too much for him. No. That was too much credit. He knew you wouldn’t send him anything. Try again some other time. Sighing you set the phone down. Your throat felt like it was closing and your head was pounding. A couple tears fell, soon followed by a quiet sob. You didn’t want anyone to see, but the stress was getting to you. Try as you might, you weren’t made of stone.

You hadn’t noticed when Hannibal had walked in for a usual evening check up. “Darling girl,” his accented voice was laced with worry as he walked toward you, “What’s wrong?” Hannibal crouched near your chair as he wiped away your tears.

“Everything went to my head. It’s nothing. I’m okay,” you swallowed thickly, as you attempted to stop the crying and sniffling, not meeting his eye just yet.

Hannibal grabbed your chin gently, forcing you to look at him. “Nothing more?”

“Nope,” you shook your head, giving him a slight smile, “Just school and a headache. Thank you for checking on me. I appreciate it.”

He looked you over, not believing you but unwilling in prodding you further. “It seems a break is in order.”

“I can’t, Hannibal,” You gestured to the papers and books around the desk, “The sooner I’m done with all this the better. I just want to go home.”

Hannibal started to pick up your things, he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer this time. “We’ll go to my office, you’ll eat, I’ll grade the work and ask you questions. Follow me.” Before you can get a word in, he turned heel, leaving you to quickly scramble behind him.

The office had the same comforting feel his home did. Though you weren’t sure many besides you felt comfort in his presence. Hannibal Lecter was by all means an intimidating man, even when you did feel like you were close to him. Closer now, you corrected thinking about the fading bruises under your shirt and the sweater he had let you borrow that you had yet to return. Still there was something about his presence that invoked a feeling of calm in you, even with that spike of something questionable. He seemed to always have all the answers and knew exactly what to do with any situation.

“Here,” Hannibal placed a Tupperware and drink on your side of the desk, “You really shouldn’t be spreading yourself so thin, love. It isn’t good for such a delicate thing.”

“I’m hardly delicate.” You grabbed the food giving him a grateful smile. “I’ve got it all handled. It’s just finals and everything stacked up. The future. I stumbled a bit, is all.”

Hannibal sat on his side and started shuffling through your papers. “Nonetheless, I wish you didn’t strain yourself so much.”

“Not all our days can be a nice weekend together,” you pecked at the salad, as much as you wanted to grab some papers off the stack you knew he would never allow it, “Life is still as frustrating as ever.”

“What did they say?” Hannibal asked, nipping the problem at the bud. If you wouldn’t start the conversation he would.

You sighed, “Something along the lines of ‘waste of time’ and ‘selfish bitch’ really wasn't the worst thing he's ever said. I was just already at my endpoint. I’m pretty sure if I dropped my pen I would have had a similar reaction.”

“Being at your end doesn’t justify mistreatment.”

“I know,” you shrugged, “but I don’t have it in me to argue anymore. Deaf ears and all that. What’s the point?”

“The point is making it known that you won’t tolerate that behavior.”

“I’m just tired and disappointed. A part of me is considering just going into the world on my own. The only family that really cares has passed on, what’s the point of hoping my parents would ever consider changing.” You coughed lightly, clearing your throat. This was too much of a therapy session for your taste. “I’ve already made it up in my head that I’m going to wait a year before getting back in school. You know, save any penny I can. These past four years even with aid and scholarship money has been hell. I’m going to be 24 and there’s still just so much to do.”

“I can’t say I envy you,” Hannibal shook his head, “The uncertainty in those years is unmatched.”

“It’s hard to imagine you uncertain of anything. You seem to always know exactly what to do.”

Hannibal scoffed lightly, “Only because time has granted me certain wisdoms. When I was younger I was lucky enough to appeal to someone with my artistic talent and stories of my past. Though I’d like to think it was the former that earned me my scholarship. I may not have had the exact struggles you did, but we’ve all been through situations we needed to push past. It comes in time. Once you get there, you’ll go through life with grace.”

“Well, I don’t have any reservations about using my past. Would you be my mentor?” You joked, for the most part.

“A five year forward request,” he mused, “Are you certain you’d enjoy me that much as a mentor?”

“Someone is gonna have to teach me the ropes,” you shrugged, “We’re more than comfortable with each other and I already know how pleasurable time with you can be, why not learn a couple of things from your infinite wisdom?”

His lip quirked, “Glad to know your thoughts are nothing less than wholesome.”

“Only the purest.”

You ate your dinner as he asked questions. It was a bit unfair, probably, you knew he had helped form the test. Then again, you knew your boss and it was more than likely all of Hannibal’s work. So this little run was sure to be a preview of what to expect. Still, the questions he asked were far from simple, despite how much you studied. Sometimes a raised brow would tell you, you needed to think again. Other times you’d get a soft praise thrown your way that would immediately make you think of when he was against you.

“A few more for me, darling girl. You’re doing so well.”

Your face heated up as you remembered the exact moment he said something nearly identical.

Hannibal looked at you over a paper, a smirk playing on his lips, “You’re looking a bit distracted, are you alright?”

“You know what you did, jerk.”

“Do I?” He laughed.

You shook your head, “You’re unbelievable.”

Hannibal continued grading, rattling off questions off the top of his head. You mind however, wandered. Answering his questions absentmindedly, more preoccupied with memories than the matter at hand. The way his hands felt. His breath against your chest as he chased his high. The gentleness the morning after as he helped you into his clothes, giving you a last kiss before breakfast. A lingering regret at not getting to thank him back properly. He would be the perfect distraction now that you thought of it.

“I won’t help you if you prefer to daydream.”

“I wouldn’t be daydreaming if you didn’t decide to help me in the first place.”

“Touché.”

“Think I’m all done studying. I’m tired of it,” you sighed, stretching, “I want to do something else.”

Hannibal looked at you, brow raised. “What’s that sweet girl?”

You shook off some nerves. As much as the two of you had already done, he was still an intimidating man. His eyes followed as you stood and walked around the desk. Hannibal brought your hand up to his lips. You trailed it along his jaw, feeling the rough stubble that just started coming in, buying yourself some time to steady yourself. A raised brow questioned what you’d do next, but otherwise he leaned into your touch.

“I wanted to thank you for everything. For how good you are to me.”

“I don’t expect anything in return,” he assured.

“Yeah, I know,” you sunk to your knees in front of him, tracing your fingertips up and down his thigh slowly, looking up at him, “but I want to take care of you too.”

He toyed with a strand of your hair, looking almost bored as he leaned back in his chair. “That isn’t necessary, little one, I enjoyed watching you.” Still there was a glint of something in his eye that told you he was interested, merely teasing with the show he just wanted something more from you.

You bit your lip, pondering at what he had deemed missing. The title. A thing that had slipped past your lips embarrassingly but one he had used with stupor throughout the night. Hands settling on his knees, you pushed them apart so you could settle there more comfortably. A pout, “Please, daddy, I’ve wanted to since we met.”

“Always an eager plaything,” he sighed checking the clock on the wall, “I suppose daddy can make some time for his girl.”

That was enough for you to start undoing his belt. Despite the bored act, his half hard cock betrayed him and told you exactly how much he had been interested. You palmed him through his boxers, he didn’t give you the pleasure of hearing anything from him, but that’s alright you didn’t mind earning it. Once you were satisfied with how hard he was, you pulled him out of the boxers. Leaning back on your knees you took it in, unsure if you could fit the length of it in completely.

Hannibal took in your hesitation. Using a finger he tilted your head up to look at him in the eye. “We don’t have to do anything if you aren’t okay with it now. A change of mind is more than alright.”

“No. It’s not that I want to,” you licked your lips, as if to prove how okay you were you wrapped your hand around him, thumb tracing a prominent vein, “I was just wondering if it would fit all the way in.”

He let out an amused huff, shaking his head, “I’m sure you’ll try your best, ridiculous girl.”

Leaning in you pressed a kiss to the head. Just a little more time to work up the courage. You kissed along the shaft, mapping out every vein. Your tongue traced its way back up, catching a taste of precome that had beaded on the head. An encouraging hand threaded itself in your hair, never pushing for more than you were willing to give.

A knock at the door, interrupts the scene.

“A moment,” Hannibal calls out to the person. “Get under the desk,” he said as he started to hide away any evidence that he was with anyone. Your appearance wasn’t completely ruined, not to his taste at least, but the messed up lipstick and slightly ruined hair wouldn’t take much mental work for someone to come to the correct conclusion.

Taking his instruction you got under the desk as he fixed his own appearance, suit jacket over his arm to hide himself. Walking over to the door, “Mr. Henderson,” he greeted, pleasantly, “Please, come in.”

“Hannibal, sorry about stopping by so late,” you heard the door close as the two walked over.

“Nonsense. If anything, the company is welcomed.” Hannibal took his seat, pulling his chair in close, to make sure you were hidden away.

“I was actually going to see if I could convince you to stay.”

Mischief sparked as you grew bored with their droning conversation. Thankfully he had decided to get rid of his belt fully. It didn’t take much to free him again. He spread his legs, attempting to give you the most space possible under the cramped desk. You pumped him in your hand, getting him back to how you had him. The other hand tugged softly at his balls. You wouldn’t be able to put him in your mouth properly with this angle. Instead you satisfied yourself with sucking on the sides of his cock.

“The students adore you,” the other man countered whatever Hannibal had said, “Honestly your classes are killing Jacob’s with every exam.”

“I take great pride in my students. They are an extension of myself. How well they do is a direct reflection of my skill as a teacher,” he sighed, “I have a couple of people in mind that could fill my roll, I’ll ask people to see who’s interested.”

“Still Jacob’s is slacking too much, I may take away his student aid privileges. I see her around here more often than I ever see him.”

You gave a particularly hard suck to a seemingly sensitive spot as his hips had stuttered ever so slightly. No evidence of any misconduct came from his voice as he said, “Oh her? She is a very good girl. Motivated. Never complains about a thing.”

You felt Hannibal throb against your mouth. Taking a break you leaned your head on Hannibal’s thigh, as fun as it would to mess with him more, you knew he took great pride in his social image. Besides, you had wanted Hannibal’s full attention anyway. His hand came down to your hair, subtly showing that he was still paying attention to you to the best of his abilities.

They talked a while longer, before Henderson finally left. Hannibal had pulled out a stack of papers, motioning like he was going to work on grading, and politely asked him to lock the door as he left. When it was clear he pushed his chair away from the desk. You made your way out smiling at him.

“Someone seems very happy with themselves.”

“You enjoyed it.”

“But did you ask permission?” Hannibal asked as worked himself lazily.

You faltered slightly under his gaze, “Well...no.”

“And do you think you deserve any type of reward for that stunt?”

“...I hope so.”

“I’ll forgive it,” he decided, “only because you’re so eager and we never set ground rules. But now it’s on my terms.”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded obediently, not wanting to receive one of Hannibal's punishments just yet.

Hannibal used your hair to pull you closer. You stumbled on your knees catching yourself on his thighs. “Since you were so unsure if you could fit in daddy earlier, after that little stunt, I’m sure you’re feeling better now. Aren’t you?”

The hand in your hair pushed you down. You closed your mouth around the tip. Hannibal groaned quietly, letting you work your way down. Bobbing your head you took more of him deeper every time, but those last two inches were proving difficult. Gripping your hair, he pulled you off of him.

His breath was coming in quick pants, brushing your hair away from your face. “Do you need help, darling?”

“I can’t fit it daddy.” It came out in a breathless whine.

“Yes, you can. Be a good little mouth and let me do the work.”

Again he pushed you onto his cock. This time he took control. His hand kept you in place as he thrusted his hips up. Without the hesitation you had, he fit himself in quickly. Grinding into your mouth he let you choke around it for a while before pulling you up for air.

“See?” He choked out as he used you again, “Fucking perfect mouth… Daddy’s good girl… taking care of me like she asked.”

His grunted praises and moans were enough to excuse the tear prickling your eyes. Over and over he used your mouth to it’s extent. Seeming to enjoy it most when you did choke on him. Hannibal stopped before he came. Pulling you up off the floor and onto his lap. Wiping away the stray tears that had fallen.

“You’re too good for me.” He kissed your cheek.

“You haven’t finished.” You caught your breath as you curled into his chest. His cologne comforted you. The increasingly familiar scent carved a special place in you.

“I’ll finish later,” he promised, dropping another kiss onto your head, “At the moment, I want to make sure you’re alright. I got carried away.”

“I’m not porcelain, Hannibal,” you intertwined your fingers with his, “I like it when you’re in charge… It gives me a chance to not think of anything.”

“Even so these situations require a lot of trust from your partner.”

You shrugged, as you decided to be honest, “At the moment you seem to be the only person I trust. Besides, you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Let’s hope I don’t disappoint you.”

“I can’t see you ever doing that.”

That night Hannibal had taken you home. You received the same treatment you had received the first night you stayed at his house. Mostly you thought it was an apology of some sort for treating you roughly in his office. By some good grace both of you had classes later in the day, allowing you to enjoy the softer side of Hannibal in the morning again.

A new sweater of his joined the one that resides on your futon. You hadn’t thought twice about packing them away when you emptied your apartment out.

Life in New York was eventful to say the least. Different but fun. It had been six months since you had graduated. Your friend from high school shared an even shabbier apartment together. You made a couple friends. Picked up jobs at a bar and a bookstore.

“You’re not any fun,” Alex complained as she adjusted her makeup, “You never want to go out with me.”

“I’m tired,” you complained. “Anyway, why would I want to go to a bar when I work at one?”

“To wreak hell on someone that’s stuck in your usual gig.”

“Have fun with the guys.”

She attempted to pull you off the couch a couple more times to no avail. In truth you were happy to have a moment of peace. All honesty she was the driving force in you actually living your life and not just working the entire time. You really did love her for all of that and the experiences you had. However there were times for breaks to be had from everything. And tonight was one of them.

You showered, got dressed in a sweater and shorts, heated up some leftovers. Throwing on a bad 80’s horror flick, you spent your night in splendor. A break was rare and you were gonna use your relaxation time to its extent. Sleep overtook you sometime in the night, only to be woken up by the annoying shrill sound of your phone.

“Al, baby, I love you so damn much, but if you’re gonna bitch at me about not going out tonight. I just might be tempted to murder you,” you muttered sleepily, “I could get away with it.”

“Sweet girl, is that any way to speak to your friends?” A voice you hadn’t heard in a while asked, disappointment clear in his tone.

“Hannibal,” you said lamely, slightly ashamed that that was the first thing he heard from you in months. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you. It’s… It’s been a while.”

“It has been,” he agreed, “In fact, I called to ask if you would like to come to a dinner party.”

You looked at the clock, noting just how late it had been. “You called at two in the morning to ask me to a dinner party?”

“I’ve been busy and you didn’t leave an address for an invitation. It was… spur of the moment.”

“I missed you too,” you sighed, deciding to be the one to voice it, “Yeah, I’d love to go over.”

“Are you planning on staying with me?”

You sighed dramatically, “Suppose I can give a lonely old man some company. What, you couldn’t find anyone as entertaining as me in Baltimore?”

“I’ve got specific tastes.”

“Is that right?”

Alex walked in, the last part of the conversation hitting her ears and the alcohol in her system making her louder. “Is that the daddy? Does he know he’s ruined men for you? Ugh, can you get him over here to loosen you up? I’d appreciate it that so much.”

“I never said ruined, I just sa-“ you realized Hannibal was still on the phone, “Just please, go take a shower, I’ll make you anything you want to eat if you promise to stay quiet.”

Surprisingly she complied, only saying egg sandwich with cheese and bacon in response.

“Ruined?”

“Couldn’t let that skate by?”

“You’re the one talking about me.”

You coughed. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve got specific taste too. Just something happened with someone and I don’t know, I couldn’t get into it that same way. Like with you. They needed me to tell them exactly how… It was just awkward. It wasn’t satisfying. They were nice though.”

“You compare my experience to their experience inexperience,” he deduced. “You enjoy knowing I’ve got everything under control.”

You tried to shake away the blush. “So it seems we’re stuck in similar positions.”

“We are.”

“Hannibal,” you heard someone call out, “When were you thinking of joining us? We didn’t bother you so much you had to leave us that long.”

He asked him for a moment.

“Seems like someone wants your attention,” you commented.

“Does it bother you?”

“Not at all. Just friends having fun right? It would be hypocritical considering I just told you of my night with someone else. As long as it’s nothing serious with whoever that was, we’re fine.”

“They’re nothing. Someone’s too loud nephew. In fact I think he’s rather rude. You know I can’t stand people like that.”

“You’ll survive. Get home safe.”

“I’ll send you the directions in a moment. Have a goodnight little one.”

“‘Night daddy,” the long unused term of endearment fell from your lips easily.

“‘Night daddy,” Alex sighed dreamily from the bathroom door, “God, is the dick really that good? How could it be?”

You hung up the phone. “Can you please not do that next time? He’s really particular about things.”

She raised her hands up in defense. “Whoa, there. He can handle a little joke at his expense when he’s already been down your throat. Now where’s my sandwich?”

“I’m serious Al.” You sighed when you got up from the couch to get to work on your promise. “He makes me feel like I need to be all proper.”

“You’re fine, doll. A dime if I’ve ever seen one. I’m not gonna ruin this for you, if he randomly decided to call you this late,” she took a seat on the counter, taking the water you handed her gratefully, “Do you want that to be a long term thing?”

“Nah,” you threw the bread into the toaster, “I couldn’t live his life. Sure, I like him and I do think he’s fun to hang around. But it just feels like something that will simmer down eventually. We’ll probably meet up a couple more times and it’ll be done. It’s not like we do anything more than end up in bed and sweet talk.”

“I’m telling you, we’d be set if you asked him to be your sugar daddy. Please ask him to take care of you and be his call girl.”

“How about you?” You asked, changing the topic, “Any pretty girls?”

“This one chick at work,” she shook her head, “Fucking goddess of a woman, LN, I’m telling you. I got it bad. She’s got me waiting for her with her coffee orders in the morning like some kind of obedient little puppy.”

“You know her coffee order.”

“Exactly!”

“How’s the commitment issues?”

“I’m gonna have to fucking work through them. Unlike someone, I think I wanna try out the long term thing.”

“Hey!” You cracked the eggs into the oil, “I’m just not up for it right now.”

“Work him out of your system. We’re supposed to be having fun this year.”

You sighed, “I’m trying.”

“I’m telling you we find you a decent lay. You won’t need to be fucking around with that guy.” Your phone chimed. Alex grabbed it off the counter. “The devil works fast doesn’t he? Address and day of the party. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. Says he’ll buy you a cute little number.”

“No, tell him I got it.”

“Thank you, daddy. I’ll make it worth your wild. Wink. Send.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I still think he’s ugly,” she shrugged, tossing your phone over, “May as well get a cute dress out of sleeping with him.”

“He’s not ugly. I’ve seen the people you’ve brought home,” You scoffed, handing over the plate.

“Reggie is a fun time! Fuck I miss Reggie.”

“Work chick,” you reminded her.

“Right right.” She argued before taking a bite of the sandwich. “Fine, we’ve both had our questionable older partner moments. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not.”

“Still never called her mommy and that’s a win in my books.”

“I should have never told you that,” you laughed, “I fucking hate you man.”

She pinched your cheek affectionately, “You had your chance to get rid of me. The return policy ran out. You’re stuck. Congratulations.”

“How long until you expire?”

Alex pretended to count it through. “We’re looking at at least 50 years more, if we’re lucky.”

You hummed, “Are you accounting for possible sickness or accidents?”

“I’m immortal for 50 years in between. No arguments at this time please.”

Next Chapter

Tag list: @charc0al-grey

#hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal x reader #slasher imagine #slasher x reader #Reader #smut

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

A Royal Scandal 3

Modern Royal King!Steve au

(Image from Pinterest)

cowritten with @lizzygal

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7k

Story masterlist

Sometimes Steven forgot that you weren’t that much younger than him. He forgot about a lot of things when it was only the two of you. You did that to him. You made him forget things that everyone else reminded him of constantly, intentional and not.

Early that morning was no different.

Long before his alarm went off, Steve found himself on his side watching you sleep. Feeling in every way equal to you, like there was not this huge ocean of things that he did not have in common with you, opposed to what the two of you shared.

Obviously, he was the son of kings and tyrants while you were the daughter of immigrants and a blue-collar family. You’d grown up in a house full of love and kindness and acceptance, he had not. You’d ended your teenage years going to college and then travelling and ending up here, where you chose to stay and work and travel and live a life that Steve could only dream of, his own had never been his own and never would be.

You had dreams and hopes, little things like aspirations. He didn’t.

Steve’s life was dictated by things like duty and obligations, expectations. Yours was not.

Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to you?

Compared to all the royals around Europe and titled individuals, politicians, even old families, none of them interested him even a fraction of the amount that you interested him. To Steve you were exotic. You were a fascinating creature who might as well have come from Mars.

He couldn’t even say what it was or why.

For so long it had felt right to be alone. Considering the blood of monsters ran through his veins, Steve had been uninterested in any sort of companionship more than a brief encounter at a private location.

For Christ’s sake, he refused to sleep in the bedroom that his father had slept in.

Upon assuming the throne, he’d selected to take up older quarters in an unused part of the palace living complex. As if to ensure he was as far away from the rooms that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had slept. Choosing to sleep in a bed untainted by any of those men, stored from when his land was ruled by an emperor. Hoping with the hopes of a young king that it would save him from their madness.

Beside him, you slept so peacefully, trustingly.

Steve had never brought anyone into his private apartment. Nor had his bed seen any carnal action since it’d gone into storage. Until you. He’d simply never been so inclined.

A rough sound from the growth on his cheek rubbing against his pillow. A pleasant reminder of that night that felt so long ago, yet also like only yesterday.

He’d had a beard back then he remembered.

A full bushy one.

One that had made you laugh softly at, roll your eyes and still manage to pull off an acceptable bow when you greeted him that late night.

“They beat Canada then Your Majesty?” You had inquired with good nature, setting down a whole stack of papers and folders onto the very modern conference table in a big room that could fit two dozen, more if the people were standing.

He’d beamed.

Steve remembered he’d been in a particularly good mood that night. Even if he was working late on the education push into the outer regions of his kingdom. A good amount was still very rural, many simple villages that lived as they had fifty or more years ago. Many parts of his kingdom were still deeply rooted in the past.

“Indeed. Eleven to four.”

He was beaming. Beaming! You were pretty sure you could see molars. It made you shake your head and begin to sort out all your work into piles to go over. Not that you’d ever admit to secretly being caught up in the hype of the team being so close to gold at the Winter Olympics. “So then the beard stays?”

“You of all people,” he admonished, coming over to help you. Picking up the well-marked up maps you’d spent hours annotating.

Making you roll your eyes.

On he went though, obviously needing to drive home the seriousness of this matter. “The beard stays until we win gold. Next we play Norway. I don’t think it needs to be said that we cannot risk it.”

He was serious. Really serious. If that full glorious beard was any indication.

More focused on the organizing task yourself.

Sorting your work by region, pile by pile, each had taken much work and effort and negotiation, endless phone calls and trips and emails to each area to get them to work not only with you, but one another. It was like herding cats. It had taken you months to get this all sorted out for Steve to see. His ideas weren’t even ready to be implemented. This was just the pre-gaming, the leadup, the work in preparation. You weren’t even on Step One. You were on Step Zero.

“Now that I know, I’ll be sure to grow a beard next Winter Olympics.”

And then you were rewarded with a rich hearty laugh from your king.

Well not your king, as you weren’t a citizen of this country. But you still liked to think of him as your king.

Watching you sleep was something he’d never tire of. Never get enough of. It was a luxury that he didn’t realize he wanted day in out.

The ability to wake up with you tangled up in blankets. Curled back against his front. Hogging pillows as you did. Allowing Steve to run his fingers up and down your bare thigh, along the curves of your body. Letting him lean forward to press his lips to your shoulder and see the peaceful rest of your face in his slowly lightening bedroom. Every last inch of you here for him.

Hungry.

That was what it was, he was hungry for you. Like a big bear that woke from hibernation after a long winter. At times he felt such a way. Never having felt this way about anyone prior.

In his own time, he slipped his fingers down along the round of your ass underneath the flesh of your hip. Warm. Soft. Smooth. Neither of you had left the bed since the late night bath in his tub.

Further down Steve allowed his fingers to trail.

Memorizing every last second to get him through his day. From how you felt pressed against the front of him, how your back moved against his chest with every steady breath you took. The way your legs tangled in his buttery sheets with his own, how the soft cheeks of your bottom pressed against his alert groin.

Most definitely though, how your skin tasted and felt beneath his mouth. Smelling like yourself from all your favorite bath products kept in his bathroom.

You’d smelled so good that night too.

You always smelled good.

It was something that he had noticed but hadn’t given any real thought to.

It seemed to be a mix of perfume and body lotion or cream. Cause Steve found the flowery smell would linger after you walked by in the way that perfume did, infusing the air and making his brain scream out that you were near. But also, when you shook his hand, it always had that sweet fresh clean smell afterwards.

Now, whenever Steve smelled it, all he could think about was you.

Those smells danced around him. Making the late hour bearable. Making the fact that the offices were empty but for the two of you, when you both should have been home in bed, not matter.

“Ok…” you were talking to him, pointing out places on the massive map that was his nation. Arms crossed. Legs spread. Standing beside you as you informed him with tones that indicated your happiness, your displeasure as well as your utter irritation. “…so I managed to get in touch with every Education Department in all nine of your territories.”

Though you were not looking at him, Steve nodded, laser focused on this project he’d tasked you with months ago.

“All of the department heads are on board with your desired overhaul to completely modernize the entire system. Unfortunately, they told me that I had to call all the district heads for all forty-six provinces to get their agreed participation too.”

Your tone went from pleased with yourself then skeptical and then annoyed.

You turned your head to look at him. “Which is what I spent the last three months doing. It was something of a thing.”

Steve could only imagine.

He was quiet though so you could go on. More than pleased with how well you worked in this position. He’d originally been skeptical with your being a foreigner. How dedicated would you be to a job in a country that was not your own? One hundred percent as it turned out.

Your hands flattened out dramatically on the table. Outrage surged from you. “I’m still waiting on two appointees because their predecessors apparently died during harvest season and no one could be bothered to replace the position. I literally had to fly out to the outer reaches of civilization to find this out. Cause all the government offices are closed during harvest season, fyi. But they’re literally filling the positions now.”

Such was the challenge of having a large kingdom with one foot in the future and one in the past. Such things led to the difficultly of keeping a Chief of Staff.

Steve’s previous Chief of Staff had come highly recommended and lasted a little over a month.

Whether it was from a lack of dedication, the obvious frustrations of the job or maybe he simply had not wanted to jump on a plane and fly six hours then ride by car five hours to remote areas in order to complete his work. Steve could not be sure. All he knew for sure was he’d keep you as long as humanly possible.

In his eyes, you were a saint.

“What’s with the question mark?”

Making you look to see which question mark you’d marked on the map full of stickers and marks and tabs. Hours had been spent working on the damn thing.

Seeing which question mark in question made your nose scrunch. “Oh…them, they refuse to even answer my calls until they are allowed to take their traditional name for their province. Which is way above my pay grade. Someone else is going to have to deal with them. I tried.”

Ah, Steve nodded, that was far from surprising. The far outer regions were notoriously independent or rebellious, depending on your stance.

He would deal with them accordingly. Not how his father did, but in his own way.

Steve’s attention was drawn to two nearby provinces. Each had a frowny face sticker. Without asking, he merely pointed.

A noise of pure disgusted frustration came from deep in your throat. Making you stand and look to him, brandishing your hands in all directions. “I tried my best with them. I really did. Both of those provinces absolutely refuse to take part in anything if the other is involved. Apparently, they’re still salty at one another over something that happened in fourteen-seventy-three and refer to me as the foreign she-devil. So…good luck with them Your Majesty.”

Soundly you slept.

Comfortable. Safe. At peace.

Making him feel like a true man. A provider able to care for you, protect you, satisfy you. As if he were stripped down to what nature intended. Instead of what society had dictated for you both.

Reaching down to that heavenly place between the V in your thighs, Steve pushed his fingers further to find your softness slippery, your skin slick with viscous arousal. In pushing his finger up further, running it around the edge of your slit to where the gateway to your body was hidden, he found you heavily aroused. Coating his fingers with a thick fluid that promised you would be able to take him now. Oozing into the cervices between his fingers and smearing thickly down his palm and over the back of his hand.

Unable to help himself, he brought his hand out from between your legs in order to look at your arousal. Merely the sight made his balls clench in eager anticipation. Tasting the bodily excretions had his hips moving against yours on their own.

A noise came from you. Though you were far from waking. Always one to enjoy your sleep.

On his tongue you were heady, ripe. Tasting like sin. Steve licked his fingers. Eyes closed so he could savor the taste, how you clung to his tongue and were thick, like a burst of brandy swirling with his saliva.

Awakened now from his deep sleep. Ravenous like a beast of the forest. He pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Making you mumble. Making you wiggle in your sleep, causing you to reach your arm out for a pillow to pull close. Hooking your leg up higher too. Becoming more comfortable in the bed in addition to opening yourself up more to your king. As if your body had connected to his on a level your mind was unaware and encouraged him to take you.

Down he peered. Strands of hair fell across his forehead at the harsh angle. A soft lightening of the sun through drapes he never closed last night allowed the sight of moisture. Folds of bare skin sheened up at him. Tempting him with that webbing of goo that promised him you were ready.

Taking himself in hand, he caught sight of your name curled over his side. Reminding him of your absolute possession over him. Sending his hand low to pull his foreskin back in order to feed this hunger of you that consumed him.

Your signature was all swoops and swirls.

Recognizable above anyone else’s writing he came across on a daily basis.

All over paper and on the maps. In little corners. Highlighted. In different color pens. On stickie notes. Written on napkins or on the back of random pieces of paper.

At the time, he’d had no idea how far gone he really was.

Not even when he watched you take note after note with a purple inked pen, your hand flowing across paper like a swimmer cutting through the water. Taking down his every word, every command.

A incredibly distinctive feeling of being full woke you up from your glorious sleep, in a very singular sort of way that could be from only one thing. Only one thing on earth felt like that when waking you up.

Pulling you out of a warm blissful sleep only to wake you with the exquisite feeling of being stretched open, pushed into, filled up. Making your fingers clench bedding or pillows or whatever they could grab.

A low breathy moan came from you in the time between you were woken and awake, your face burrowing in a pillow was followed by a soft profanity. Weight slowly covered you. Weight pinned you down to the bed a little at a time. Skin and sheets and soft dustings of hair rubbed against you.

Only when you had fully woken did you feel pubes brush against your cheeks. A light tap of scrotum bumped you too.

Long arms wrapped around you. Wet lips mouthed along the curve of your neck.

This was a far superior way to wake up. Compared to your apartment, in bed alone, to your neighbors loud shrilling alarm clock through your paper-thin wall.

Groaning out at the feel of His Majesty’s cock stuffed safely up in your secret garden. You found yourself whining at Steve at whatever time it was in the early morning. “…fuuuuck…what’d I say about doing that…” A swivel, nay, a swivel with a pop of his pelvis followed, making you see stars, gasp deeply as if you’d been stabbed in the lungs and then add on for God and Country. “…My King…shit, My King…oh shit, My King.”

Though it may have been said in jest, his tone was hot enough to scald. “If memory serves me correctly…” another deep push of thick hips shoved you forward into the pillows. “…you say, not in my ass unless I’m awake.”

Stars.

So many bright and colorful stars.

Mmm.

Yes, that was something you had told him on many occasions and it still held very true. If Steve was going to put anything in your ass, forget that thing he claimed was a dick, you needed to be fully awake so you could both physically and emotionally prepare yourself.

Nothing at all could have prepared you for the drastic turn your life was about to take that night.

Nothing.

Everything had been so normal. It was so regular. Like many a long night working late hours at the palace before. Hours had been spent going over all your hard work contacting each and every head in each education department per province, as well as per territory. In addition to the national department of education, preparing to prep them for what the king wanted.

Like any other late night, Steve helped you put all of your paperwork back in the correct order you had it in. Like every other time, he requested a palace car take you to your apartment. Granted the apartment you shared with your best friend was walking distance away. It was late and simply not safe and you found were touched that Steve would think about your well-being.

For a king, he wasn’t that bad. When it was the two of you anyway.

Looks aside, which he had in spades, he could be very funny in a sarcastic sort of way. He was very well read and intelligent, quick on his feet. Although people seemed to think of him a certain type of way based on his father and his own kingship at a young age, when he really was his own person.

You’d noticed he had a definite interest in the classical masters and had on rare occasion seen him sketch out something on a flight or during a less than stimulating event. He had an artistic ability that would never come to anything due to his role.

His strong sense of duty paired with a disgusting moral obligation pretty much guaranteed his life would be spent in service to his country. Period.

You could see why people thought he was hot. The man had been blessed by the genetic gods. Plus he was a king. Who didn’t grow up dreaming about being a princess? Or think about a literal Prince Charming from fairy tales?

Having now had the benefit of working in a real life palace. You knew the realities of that fantasy.

You had two pages of notes that could attest to the reality of your childhood Disney Princess movies.

Reality was always so different.

Not for the first time, you found yourself repeating yourself. “…and let me say one more time. Thank you so much for talking with my parents. I know it was only ten minutes, but, I know how busy you are and it just completely topped off their visit. My mother has been telling everyone about how she met the king. You even have my father cheering for the hockey team.”

A smile came over Steve’s face that was real.

It wasn’t one of his practiced smiles. It was an actual smile. You could tell because it reached his eyes.

“Well,” Steve answered you with a shrug, sounding genuinely pleased even if he also sounded tired and like he wanted nothing more than to go off to his living quarters in the palace and crash into bed, before he had to get up to start a new day. Helping you stack the last of your papers up. “Anything to convert a soul to hockey. Technically, it is his team too.” And because he could not help himself, Steve added on, “Even if his grandparents fled from here for a cushy life in the west.”

Up your hand flew to your chest.

Your jaw dropped in mock pain. “Ouch, Sir! That one was painful.”

His smile grew at your over-the-top reaction.

Still though, he dipped his head and you noticed there was a little blush on his cheeks above where that magnificent beard grew. Chagrined, he quickly followed up with, “I apologize. That was a cheap shot.”

In a physical sort of way that his people were known to interact, personal space be damned, Steve reached over to touch your arm apologetically. Not something he did frequently. Although he had done it a handful of times. The press of his mouth to your cheek was new. The little kiss was brand new. Steve’s lips were gentle on your skin. His beard tickled your face.

Never in your life had your heart pounded as violently in your chest as it did at that gesture. Quickly, your head turned. Though you did not move back or say anything. Instead, you found yourself staring at Steve. Looking into those pools of blue that were looking at you with the same amount of surprise that you felt. His lips were right there, right there.

Blood roared in your ears, your heart pounded faster and faster and faster.

He kissed you.

Did he really though?

Was it a kiss or was it a kiss?

For a moment in time, you leaned in. Leaned closer. Leaned till you almost touched him because that was what your body wanted to do. Until you remembered that Steve was a king. A KING. Remembering that made your head command your body to lean backwards a bit. Allowing you to see that he had leant in to meet you.

He’d leaned closer to kiss you.

What were you doing? What in the hell were you doing? You had no business doing this, no business at all messing around with Steve.

Fingers moved along your arm, tracing up the back of it softly. That simple touch made goosebumps break out over your skin. It made your breath hitch. Your hands began to shake so you grabbed the fabric of your skirt.

However, you made no move to step away from Steve. Nor did he make any sort of move to step away from you.

Another attempt at a kiss was not made.

Fingers touched your face instead. Steve was close enough to you that you felt his legs brush yours. You felt his breath against your face. Fingertips ran across the swell of your cheekbone, down over your lips, tracing the bridge of your nose in what felt like a desire to memorize your face.

Steve was gentle. His fingertips felt like feathers on your skin. He made you shake like a leaf in terror because you wanted him to touch you more. You wanted to be touched. You wanted to feel his hands on you and the soft glide of his thumb along the line of your jaw was painfully insufficient.

Without thinking, you reached up with your hands until you remembered that he was the king.

Were you allowed to touch the king? You weren’t sure. He was touching you and it was fabulous but were you allowed to do the same? You wanted to. You so deeply wanted to. You just were not sure what was allowed in this situation. It had not exactly been covered in the Royal Protocol Guidebook you had.

Then came Steve’s voice. Harsh. Gravelly. Desperate.

“Touch me. It’s ok. I want you to.”

For only a heartbeat or two you remained still, observing him, making sure. Only after that did you reach up with your hands to cover his wrists. Rub along the fabric of his button-up shirt. In doing so, you not only felt the strength in his well-muscled wrists, or how warm the silky fabric was, but, you could feel him tremble. He was shaking about as much as you were.

A rush of air surged from his lungs as if you had burnt him.

Curious, you turned your head so you could place a single kiss on the inside of his hand touching your face, right at the base of his thumb. In doing so, you ripped a noise from deep within him. A noise that was both pained while also infused with wanting.

“This is ok?”

“Yes,” he croaked out, as if he were terrified you would stop.

Never would you have ever imagined he would be so responsive. Almost touch starved it felt.

Sometimes, Steve still felt as if he were a little touch starved to you. Sometimes it felt like he’d gone his entire life without having that physical connection between two people. As complicated of a man as he was with as complicated of a life as he had, you at times forgot that he was still a human being with human being needs that were essential to thriving.

And it wasn’t like you were complaining.

Far from it.

Not after the orgasm you just had, not from on top of him either. Lounged across the front of him. Loose limbed. Languid down to your marrow. Peppering the damp skin of his neck with slow wet kisses and scrapes of teeth. Long drags of your tongue collected drops of salt that tasted of him. Lazily. Heart to heart. Stomach to stomach.

There really were worse ways to wake up.

Like, for instance, in your apartment taking cold showers cause the building’s water heater was ancient. That wasn’t fun at all and usually had you shivering and hurrying through an icy shower. Straight up not a good time.

This? This was soooo much better.

Feeling Steve’s long legs wrapped up in your own, paired with his softening member filling you by virtue of sheer size not letting himself just pop out…this was a much better way to wake up. Far superior in every way.

Not that you were willing to waste precious time like this luxuriating in post-coital bliss. No, no. A burning question was hot on your mind that kept popping up after last night. After all, you were a modern woman and this was a serious relationship. You had every right to ask this question at any time you wanted. Even now. As your boyfriend, the king, fondled your breasts in his hands with such intensity that you would have thought he’d just broken out of Alcatraz after a decade of no nookie. Not that you were in the least bit complaining. Not one bit.

“Am I going to have to quit my job?”

It was something of a concern.

You loved your job. You loved working with Steve. You loved your life as it was and a big part of you suspected becoming queen would mean big changes.

Not that you lifted your head from his neck, or ceased your trek down towards his collarbone. Trail of your kisses never slowing or stopping. No hint of any sort of disruption came. Not for a moment or two. Not till your ravenous boyfriend squeezed your breasts possessively. Thumbed your nipples and finally opened his eyes, as if it were the biggest chore on earth.

His voice was rough. His tone felt like hot gooey honey that just got everywhere. “No…not yet…”

Leading you to make a noise. A pop followed when your mouth left the dark spot you’d been sucking on nearly at his collarbone. What with your name already etched on him. What else could you leave in a display of ownership over him? “Nothing else to add My King?” For added emphasis, perhaps you gave you vaginal muscles a clench knowing what that did to him.

A grunt came from beneath you.

Wrapped up in yours, Steve’s legs clenched in response to what you did. White teeth sank into his upper lip and you absolutely thrived at the sight and feel of him arching up against you, shifting around beneath you at the way your body squeezed him.

Those hands left your breasts only to reach down, run over your waist as they had so many times before, leading you to grab them. Snatch then right up. Press them down into the mattress over Steve’s head. Since the man was far larger than you, this sent you leaning downwards and ever closer to his face. “Steve? I asked you a question.”

How easy it would have been for him to get free. Yet, he seemed content where he found himself. Still wedged within you. Warm in bed. Body a sea of a complex cocktail of chemicals after physically releasing into you. A far better way to wake up than alone in a massive bed. Or worse, to his mother jabbing at him to urgently tell him something that was not urgent at all.

Feeling your breasts press against his chest. Lightly brushing over his skin, your nipples little points that sparked a definite interest in his dick.

God did he want you to be his queen.

“Not yet,” Steve ground out, nearly close to being overwhelmed by you. Each and every word was enunciated to utter perfection, as if it took all of his concentration and effort to get them out. “I’ll have the palace leave your name out of the official statement today. We can go slow. Ease you into things…ease you out of your job…” and to reward him for such a thoughtful statement, you clenched around him once more.

However, it seemed, there was more and even though his eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of your core squeezing his not entirely soft organ, he pushed on with the determination of his ancestors. Grunting. Arching back into the bed as the pillows had all wound up on the floor. Perfect teeth clenched together. “M-my people…will…love you…too.”

So, it was entirely possible, that you were feeling all kinds of powerful watching him writhe beneath you. Knowing exactly what sort of repercussions this could have to your morning. Which was still progressing on time. It was entirely possible that you may have intentionally pushed your own pelvis against his to reseat yourself.

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? You saw what happened with those two over in England. And that prince isn’t even next in line to the throne.”

Perhaps it was the seriousness of the direction in which your conversation had taken, Steve remained beneath you. Taking no action, even though you could quite literally feel his dick grow more interested in what your hips were doing.

A panted out, “…fuck…” escaped from him, before he opened his eyes to look at you seriously, if not also a little heatedly. “Quit obsessing over them. The King of Jordan married for love. Queen Rania was a commoner. If you must, focus on them.”

Sudden movement found you falling off Steve and onto the bed, shoved onto your back and in a flash, he was on top of you again. Over you. Hovering. Though he’d escaped out of your body, you could feel the king’s most delicious semi, slick from your previous copulation, squish between you both.

Admitting on an exhale, “Forgot about them.”

“Everyone does.” He agreed, surveying down, taking in the sight of you. “My country appreciates you. They’re fond of you. You’re in all the papers and they’ve given you a nickname.”

And that. That. Nearly killed the mood.

It sent your eyebrows together dubiously so.

Everytime you were in the press it was when your skirt had been blown up on a windy day, or if you’d accidentally gotten food on your shirt. Or that time a baby goat pooped on your shoes. Or when you’d tripped and fallen off a dock into a lake. Who could forget that time you’d accidentally called the Prime Minister of Canada a ‘moose fucking cannibal’ when you’d still been getting the hang of the language, your first year on the job?

You’d been affectionately dubbed, ‘the King’s Foreign Devil’ and it had stuck.

Hell, you still got asked about your thoughts on the Canadian Prime Minister whenever a member of the press was around.

“Most the time, you have a higher approval rating than I do,” he added. Much to the consternation of Maria Hill in PR. “Trust me. There is nothing my country loves more than a hard-working loyal servant of the people who talks shit about western leaders.”

Mood totally killed, you seethed and not for the first time, “That was an accident! I was trying to call him Canada’s Disney Prince.”

***

The note had been hand delivered to the palace and was now crumbled into a ball in the Queen Mother’s bedroom as she stormed off, once more, that early morning in a fury of rose satin and silk. Her perfume clouded around her, drifting behind her, much like the wake of a boat cutting through the water.

Thick carpets silenced her heels. Doors opened for her as she neared them, allowing her to not need to slow her step even for a second. Not a single moment wasted as she made her way through the private living quarters of the palace.

Down hallways and around corners, over to the rooms that her grown son had selected as his own.

It would have been so much easier if he would have just taken the rooms that his father had lived in.

Although, with the horrific memories attached to those rooms, how could she blame him when he elected not to? She had her own private rooms. The dead kings rooms were locked up tight and still not used. Abandoned like so much he’d done, started and accomplished in his life.

Upon coming to her only child’s rooms, those doors were held open for her and on she pressed on. Sailing through his rooms, one after another, until she got closer to his bedroom and could hear his shower which was the direction she headed.

A brief glance was made at the mess that was his bed.

A roll of her eyes was followed by a shake of her head.

Some things males never grew out of it seemed.

“Steven!” She called out in warning, should he be in the bathroom about to come out in the nude. Which was the last thing she wanted to see.

Not only was his bed a mess but his clothes from yesterday were all over the floor.

She had every intention of telling him that he needed to straighten up this mess before the cleaning staff came in his room. The last thing she wanted was for them to think he was messy and then tell their families and friends when they went home that the king had a messy bedroom and word would get out that her son was a slob. Ugh. No. She’d make sure that he straightened up.

Speaking of the devil.

As his shower ran, Steve peered out of the bathroom with a wet head. A midnight blue towel was wrapped around his waist. A toothbrush was in his hand. To Sarah, it was very clear that her grown son had not shaved yet either.

Seeing him in such a state that morning along with his messy room and the fact the shower was going wasting water. It did not make her mood any more agreeable.

Though her son was taller than her and considerably more muscular, she never feared him.

She knew he would never hurt her like his father had so many times. Towards the end, Steve had even defended her from his father’s physical attacks. Those days. They had been dark. Horrible. Terrible. When she noticed that her husband had begun to carry a knife to protect himself from his son. Well. What was she supposed to do?

Attacking her was one thing. Being violent towards her was one thing. There were some things that she learned to tolerate. It was unescapable. Their son though. To take a knife to their son? Her son? Sarah would never allow such a thing.

She was queen at the time.

It was not so difficult to get the drug that she put in her husband’s evening nightcap. She’d used all of it. Thrown the vial away the next day when she went to rouse the king as she did every morning, only to find him dead in his chair. Fireplace having long gone out. Slumped down. Cold. The coroner had said it was a heart attack. Exactly as she’d been told the drug would work. He’d been buried with no one the wiser. Not even Steve.

“Yes mother?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You are not growing another beard. Last time you looked like some man that lives up in the mountains in a tiny shack.”

Just as her own father once did, Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise and question.

No. That was not why she was here.

Sarah had a higher calling that morning and straightening her slim shoulders, she so informed him. “Hope and Janet are here in the city. They’ve come for a surprise visit and will arrive at the palace within the hour.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at her in response to her information.

It was horrifying. It was outrageous. It was not what he wanted to hear that morning one bit. Not at all. Not one single bit.

Hope and Janet?

Those were two names he never wanted to hear with the additional words being, ‘on their way’. No. Just no.

All he could say that was remotely civil, after what the then Princess Hope van Dyne had done, came out in something of a tone. “I don’t want to see either of them. If you want to see them, that’s your choice. Keep them away from me.”

Considering what the now Duchess Hope had spewed to every reporter, journalist and whomever with a platform…Sarah was a little surprised that Steve was being so kind.

She’d expected a bit more of a reaction from her son.

Could she be holding a bigger grudge against her one-time closest friend’s daughter? After what had happened, Queen Janet van Dyne had become somewhat distant. Which was not surprising. Hope had not broken the engagement gracefully. Nor had she been anything less than opinionated afterwards.

“I suspect she is in trouble,” Sarah confessed. “Why else would they come here? Considering everything that Hope has said over the years.”

Steam continued to seep through the cracked door.

Sarah was about to say something about the shower. Steve was wasting a considerable amount of hot water. She herself was leading the Go Green Initiative in the country and as she stated constantly, it all began at home.

“Mother, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I wouldn’t shit in Hope’s mouth if she was starving.”

Ah.

Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge Steve’s current opinion on the wayward duchess?

Pondering his statement, Sarah found herself looking for any way to come back with a counter when she noticed that the shower turned off. Which was odd. Shower’s didn’t turn themselves off.

What was even more peculiar, Steve reached back behind himself to shut his bathroom door.

It clicked.

Like a light going off.

How could she not have noticed? How could it not have been obvious?

Blue eyes that were a little softer than her son’s narrowed. “You aren’t alone.”

Silence.

Quiet.

Her pink lips opened in surprised. A question hovered on her tongue.

“No mother.”

“But…”

“Mother,” he implored as only a son could. “Not now. She would not want the first time she officially meets you to be when you’re dressed for the day and she is not.”

And though her son’s words were true. They were right. They were exactly what she would have wanted him to say and because she had raised him well, she was even proud that he had made such a quick decision. It wasn’t fair.

Sarah wanted to find out who you were. She wanted to meet the woman that her son was involved with. Was that so wrong? Sarah wanted to meet the woman that her son was considering marrying. There was so much she wanted to say to you, so much to teach you, so much she wanted to learn about you. Perhaps her desperation showed because her son reached out to place a hand on her elbow.

“If you can chase Hope and Janet away, we could have lunch together. The three of us. If not, dinner? Or even tomorrow. I’m not doing anything with Hope under this roof. Not after she referred to our country as a third world plus hellhole full of war criminals and superstitious backwoods heathens.”

Ah, so he did remember.

Those words had been seared into her memory as well. Sometimes Sarah wondered, as Steve had never really given much indication that he cared one way or the other what Hope had said. It was only after she began to speak unflatteringly about their people that he grew irritated, much like herself.

Although, what irritated Sarah more, was the quiet that came from the royal house of van Dyne and Pym a few countries over. Never once had Janet spoke up. Never had Janet said anything about her daughters outrageous remarks or behavior. Nor had she apologized.

Knowing her son, Sarah knew that he would never court anyone who was not kind or compassionate. Steve would never pick a Hope as his queen.

Up came a hand that bore a lovely ring decorated with fresh water pearls from their own waters. “I’ll have them gone before lunch and then we will all sit down together so I can finally meet her.”

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n

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autisticandroids · 3 years

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Oh patron saint of mpreg, tell us, what is the absolute gold standard canon divergent mpreg scenario with Cas and Dean?

so for me the gold standard is for cas to get pregnant due to some kind of magical or metaphysical situation that dean at least does not perceive as sex. bonus points is cas is hesitant about it but refuses to explain why (because he doesn't know how dean will deal with the concept of himself being able to potentially get cas pregnant), so dean is like "we're doing it anyway" and then they do it and then cas doesn't tell anyone that he is pregnant until circumstances force the information out of him. and then dean has to deal with the fact that 1) cas can get pregnant, 2) cas is pregnant, 3) it's his, and he does so pretty poorly.

the rest is under a cut because this post is over 2.5k words long.

my favorite times for this to happen are at the end of season nine, just before dean dies and gets demonized in do you believe in miracles, and at the start of season twelve, just before sam and dean go to jail, because the pining in both those scenarios is delicious but it is so much more powerful if cas is also pregnant, and never even told dean. double points if the truth somehow comes out while they're separated so when dean comes back it's like. yeah cas is pregnant. it's yours. welcome home dean now you have to coddle cas' emotions because he thought he would have to raise your baby alone.

the season twelve scenario is particularly delicious because 1) we can have lucifer slut shaming cas in front of crowley in rock never dies, so crowley knows before dean, and 2) much more importantly, mary is there, and i am obsessed with like. okay. several things.

- the idea of mary getting all baby fever because she misses her boys and this is like. a baby she can take care of because she never got to take care of sam

- the idea of dean working through some of his parentification trauma by coparenting a child with the parent whose place he felt he had to take

- the idea of mary coming in and projecting her insane 1980s gender roles all over cas, suddenly treating him like a woman, stripping him of agency, etc. and like. dean would also do this even though he's not from the eighties, but mary would do it double strength, and they would reinforce each other, it would be a nightmare

- also mary trying to relate to cas on the Travails Of Motherhood etc. and cas being like ?????????? like i cannot stress enough that the weird gender roles she projects onto cas are also standards that she held herself to back when she was a Wife And Mother. while cas is like mary i am not a human woman and also i don't see what "having to look pretty for my man when i'm all baby bloaty" has to do with anything. that's not something i feel like i have to do

oh and 3) could you imagine lily sunder has some regrets if cas was pregnant? unfathomable episode. like ishim and mirabel's reaction but ALSO lily's. and it would fix the number one issue i have with lily sunder, which is that the resolution of the moral dilemma is "well AKSHUALLY the kid was human and not a nephilim so killing it was bad" rather than "it was bad to kill lily's baby, full stop." like ishim's cover up and using the machinery of power to manipulate the truth is very compelling, but the fact that it results in the moral essentially being "it would have been okay if the kid had been a nephilim" suuuuuucks.

basically, there's a reason i have two entire mpreg aus set in season twelve.

and then the delicious part in the season nine version is like. one, dean is away for much longer and he could be anywhere. also he's a demon and he's cheating on cas with crowley. and then even when cas gets him back he's still cursed with the mark, so we can get all weepy over that. you know. i'm the one who's going to have to watch you murder the world and i'm eight months pregnant. etc etc.

but the other thing that's juicy about this version is that cas is still semi-involved with the other angels at this point, like he's roadtripping around with hannah and they're trying to get heaven under control, so carrying a nephil is going to really affect those relationships. so he's going to be probably disliked by the other angels, and there are MANY opportunities for slut-shaming, but at the same time, the other "outcast" type angels might respect him for violating heaven's dictates.

and then of course there's his grace vampirism victorian wasting disease. in canon he's perfectly happy to let himself die, but if he were having dean's baby he would absolutely not do that, that's dean's baby he's endangering there. so of course there's the terrible guilt of having to kill other angels so he can live, plus potentially preparing to die shortly after childbirth so he doesn't have to keep killing. delicious.

and on top of all this cas can get slutshamed by metatron in, depending on when exactly he gets knocked up, meta fiction, stairway to heaven, and do you believe in miracles. plus stairway to heaven would be insane like all the angels would know that cas is pregnant. they would see it in his grace. like cas' angel army would just. know that he was pregnant with a nephil, and have to accept that because he's their leader. in love with humanity indeed.

i'm trying to think of other good times for this drama with cas getting secretly pregnant through a nonsexual interaction to take place. it would be great in season six. like: he's doing a blasphemy with his body but at the same time he's this big important rebel leader so they can't say shit about him, and also he's pregnant while fighting these big important battles (fun and sexy), AND this is like, hot on the heels of the realization that something about his feelings for dean is untoward, expands beyond the bounds of ordinary friendship and camaraderie. like he realizes that, and maybe even that he has sexual feelings for dean, and then he gets immediately knocked up. stunning.

it would ALSO be extremely fun for it to be some kind of... i don't know, magical longer gestation times, whatever, but for cas to have gotten pregnant sometime in s5 and only realized during the Year Of Lisa. LOVE to watch a man rake leaves while both metaphorically carrying the taint of taboo sexual feelings for him and literally carrying his child.

but the thing about season six is, first of all, cas isn't really... envisioning a future with dean. not the way he does in the later seasons. like does he fantasize about a future with dean? yes. like. he really did watch that motherfucker rake leaves. but it's only fantasy. he expected to never speak to dean again after swan song until dean prayed to him in the third man. he's obsessed with dean, but it's distant. remote.

like, we talk about cas babytrapping dean in the later seasons with jack, and he absolutely does, and he would do it even more if dean got him literally pregnant, but that babytrap is about... how do i put this. it's about winning dean's affection. late seasons cas knows that he's going to die by dean's side. the difference that babytrapping dean makes is that maybe it will get dean to be nice to him in the mean time, instead of discarding him like so much toilet paper.

but season six cas doesn't think of it like that. if he were gonna babytrap dean, it would be in the more traditional sense of forcing dean to stay with him in order to raise their child together. and he would never do that. he wants dean to have a happy future, which in his mind does not include him. like, compare here "he's retired and he's to stay that way" in the man who would be king, where cas assumes that dean is happy without him and expects him to live out his days peacefully without ever seeing him again, to "i'm the one who's going to have to watch you murder the world" in the prisoner, where cas assumes that he will be by dean's side for centuries.

but anyway, the other, much more important problem with season six is that cas has a war to fight. like, in the later seasons, cas really has nothing. even when he's on tenuous good terms with the angels, he doesn't really have a home with them. the winchesters are his family, and he'd give up anything for them. he has nothing in his life. he's at rock bottom, and this becomes truer the further along you go. late seasons cas has nothing he would prioritize over serving the winchesters, and he would be happy dropping anything he was involved in to have and raise dean's baby. parenting would give him a purpose that he no longer has, because everything else has been stripped from him.

but in season six cas has a life outside of them. like yes, he has a war to fight, but he also has a place in heaven, with the other angels. he belongs somewhere, he has solid connections to the outside world. even if he didn't have a war to fight, i don't know how excited he would be to have and raise a baby (even dean's baby) because he simply has other things he could be doing. he's involved in the world beyond the winchesters.

like, the reason cas wants to be a parent is that he is totally alone and totally purposeless. having a child gives him both a reason for being and someone who will always love him and who he can care for. if he doesn't have that hole in his life he might not be so eager to fill it with a baby.

for all these reasons, this plotline really doesn't work in season six, because you simply cannot justify cas not getting an abortion, unless you do something nasty like make angel abortion impossible, which i don't love.

you COULD somehow put the impregnation just at the end of season six, maybe just before the man who would be king, such that cas doesn't realize he's pregnant until he's already godstiel. you guys are unfortunately very aware of how obsessed i am with pregnant godstiel.

actually, @jeanne-de-valois has a concept of like. a single, madness fueled midnight hookup immediately pre-tmwwbk (or maybe even during, but prior to the superman mistake), where cas is simultaneously so stressed from being stretched so thin from the war and the lying and the shady dealings, and so high on being The Big Man In Heaven, that he's bold and out of his mind enough to actually come onto dean, like he just appears one night in dean's bedroom and is like, fuck me, and dean is like 👁👄👁 okay. so they have one single adrenaline and madness fueled hookup, and then everything immediately goes to shit.

and i think that's a great place for cas to get pregnant, and then he doesn't realize until he's become god, or maybe he does and he's just like "i'll deal with it later," either way godstiel is like oh? i carry dean's heir inside me? i will have dean's baby. i will have dean's baby it is my right and also my boon to him and also a symbol of my great and magnanimous love for humanity. and also maybe i will put giant paintings of myself pregnant with his child up in churches. what about that. which would be fun. don't know when he would give birth though. actually it would be insane if he gave birth as emmanuel and was just like. raising dean's nephil when dean found him again. nuts. but it just doesn't really have the same flavor as late seasons mpreg. doesn't compel me nearly as much. like the symbolism of godstiel being pregnant with dean's child is fun and sexy but them actually raising the kid afterwards doesn't compel me nearly as much, so it's better to leave literal mpreg to the later seasons and let godstiel mpreg reside in symbolism and fantasy.

or maybe the fetus gets stolen by the leviathans when cas walks into the lake and dean has to battle his leviathanated nephil daughter as the main villain of s7. like she's dick roman's secret weapon. i think that would be fun, actually. kind of an emma situation but drawn out over the whole season. and he thinks cas is dead for most of it so she's all he's got left of cas and a mess cas left for him to clean up. big sexy.

and as a bonus, i will also tell you the best time, imo, for dean to get pregnant: near the end of season eight. possibly a single, tragic farewell fuck in sacrifice when cas is planning to lock himself away in heaven and they're never gonna see each other again. and this impregnates dean with cas' nephil.

but then cas is human. and he can't do anything about it. like generally if they managed to get dean pregnant somehow, cas would immediately talk him into an abortion (which wouldn't be too hard; dean's natural white midwestern man who doesn't vote aversion to abortion would be at war with the horror of being pregnant, and the horror would win), or might not even inform dean that he's pregnant, and just quietly end the pregnancy without dean's knowledge, because cas would never put dean through that. but if cas is human, he can't do that. and furthermore, that nephil is the last evidence of his angelic nature that persists. it's the last of what he used to be, the last of his grace. and there's something absolutely delectable about that.

then of course dean would have to leave the bunker if he was pregnant with a nephil, because angels would be after him, and he wouldn't want to lead them to gadreel, so i am imagining dean discovering that he's pregnant and then showing up in a panic at the gas n sip like "actually cas i'm also out of the bunker will you go on the run with me?" and then they go on the run and have to live in motels again and cas gets to live with take care of dean who is pregnant with his child which is essentially his dream, and he doesn't have to feel guilty because he's no longer capable of giving dean an abortion so he doesn't feel obligated to get him to have one. ideally cas gets re-angeled just in time to give dean an angelic c-section. or maybe they rely on a normal human c-section in a hospital and cas stays human and they are two humans raising their nephil, which is also fun to me.

#spn #asks #anonymous #mpregpocalypse

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looooooooomis · 3 years

Text

F I N A L G I R L | F O U R

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t f o u r | k e y s

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 4.4k warnings: angst, s m u t, some more s m u t, teasing, finger-licking good billy boy, implied/referenced cheating, def not a healthy, functioning relationship (but like eh we persevere), some more s m u t.

Despite your best efforts, the last few days had been miserable without Billy.

You hadn’t realized just how much of a routine he’d become over the last seven months, how much you’d both come to rely on each other and, fuck, did you miss him. You missed his smell, you missed that small little cheeky grin of his, you missed curling up beside him and feeling him over every inch of your skin. Your body craved for him in an almost primal way but, while you could live with denying your body its needs, it was your heart that hurt the most.

What was supposed to be a quick release for the two of you had never been that easy. You’d been in love with the idiot since freshman year, seen him through his various ups and downs and he’d seen yours, too. Which was precisely what made this entire situation that much harder. Not only were you dealing with your own heartache, but you were witnessing his, too.

Billy’s grief was more or less a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it sort of thing. Ever the stoic silent type, you hadn’t expected to see much of what he was feeling splayed out on that handsome face of his, but shocking even you, his regret was palpable. And each and every time those brown eyes met yours, that grief that was as clear as day struck you blind.

You’d tried telling yourself that it was for the best because, in all honesty, it was but that didn’t make the pain go away. Nor did it make you miss him any less. You were trapped in a vicious cycle of missing Billy, sticking to your guns, and worrying about him all at once.

God, you’d really fucked up with this one.

“You sure you’re okay?” Tatum asked, narrowing her eyes at you as you shoved a handful of books into your locker. “You’ve been scatterbrained all week.”

“I’m fine,” you shrugged, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“You tell me,” she leaned her hip against the locker. “Is this about Steve?”

You blinked as the question played on loop in your head. “Steve?” You asked, giving the strawberry blonde your full attention. “First of all, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart: ew. Secondly, huh?”

Tatum smirked. “Don’t play dumb, you’ve been acting all weird since Billy went psycho on his ass last week.”

“No, I haven’t,” you hoped your laugh didn’t sound as fake as it felt. “Also, Steve’s an asshole. If the day ever comes when I am interested in that big oaf, feel free to euthanize me.”

“Promise,” she made a motion of crossing her heart, “but in the meantime, you swear nothing is up?”

“Cross my heart,” you mimicked the gesture and shut your locker. “What are you up to after practice tonight? Want to go see that new Brad Pitt movie?”

Her shoulders fell. “Can’t, Stu’s coming over,” she unwrapped a lollipop and shoved it in her mouth. “I’d say ask Sid, but she got into it with Billy last night so she’s in a mood.”

You tried not to care, you really did, but her words hit you like a freight train. “They did?” You asked, hoping beyond hope that your voice didn’t sound quite as high pitched as it sounded in your head. “What happened?”

“Who knows,” Tatum shrugged, “Billy’s always been a little intense and Sid’s been a little cagey since…well, you know – so, it’s bound to happen.”

You swallowed hard and continued to nod along to Tatum’s words. Were you nodding too frequently? Did you appear too interested all of the sudden? Catching yourself, you focused on the leftover gum on the locker just behind your friend’s head and cleared your throat. “That’s shitty.”

“Relationships,” Tatum waved off, “they’re all pretty shitty sometimes.”

Before you could finish putting your foot in your mouth any further, the third bell rang out signaling your next class. Your most dreaded class: Biology. With a groan you tossed your bag over your shoulder and frowned across at Tatum. “See you at practice?”

With a nod, Tatum took off towards her class as you slowly sauntered towards your own. You were halfway down the hall when you heard a set of heavy footfalls running towards you from behind. Glancing over your shoulder, you barely had time to register Stu’s smiling face before he threw an arm around your shoulders. “How ya doing, pal?”

“Peachy,” you scraped your eyes along his profile and blinked. “If you’re about to play the rule of dutiful henchman for you know who, I’ve got a class to flunk.”

“Harsh,” Stu beamed, “I see why our boy’s so smitten.”

With a roll of your eyes, you glanced around at the people around you and glowered up at him. “Stu,” you warned, “I’m not in the mood for this.”

“For what?” He feigned innocence. “I haven’t said a word.”

“But you want to,” you mused. “And I don’t want to hear it.”

Stu chuckled. “All I was going to say is, like, I get it.”

You shouldn’t have taken his bait. What you should have done was push him off of you and continue on your merry way to class. That would have been the smart thing to do, the responsible thing to do.

Too bad you were neither of those two things.

Roped in, you sighed in defeat. “Get what?”

“I’ll be the first to admit,” he began, “when Bill told me that you and him were…you know, I laughed. I mean, two broads, man? I can barely handle the one how’s he going to deal with two of you?”

“I’m hoping there’s a point coming,” you groused.

“Right,” he laughed again, “my point is that I get it. I get why you two work. Why he’s knee deep in this big fucking mess because of it. You two work.”

“Stu,” you threw your head back and glared at the ceiling. “Stop.”

“What?” He asked. “Am I wrong?”

You gently pushed him away from you and dropped your voice into a whisper. “That’s not the point. He’s with Sid.”

“So?” Stu made a face. “Her mom just died, what do you want him to do? Dump her and break her heart? Her mom just died, that’d callous, man.”

“We’re breaking her heart either way, whether she knows it or not.”

Stu stopped walking and there was a compassion in his stare that left you reeling. For as long as you’d known him, Stu Macher had always been the goof. The reckless, chaotic idiot that seemed to fit just perfectly into your little mish mash of a group. But the sincerity in his blue eyes as the two of you stood in the emptying hallway was a look you’d never seen before.

“And by doing this, you’re breaking yours.” He limply shrugged. “Billy’s, too.”

Your shoulders fell as the weight of Stu’s words sank in. You couldn’t exactly say much in terms of a rebuttal, naturally, because he was right. There were no happy endings for either of you at this point in the charade. Sid had still been lied to and cheated on, Billy was still trapped in a relationship he no longer wished to be in in fear of hurting the girl he once loved and you were stuck in the middle, watching two people you cared for fall to bits while having to remain stoic in fear of showing your hand.

What a fucking mess.

After another minute of silence, Stu wriggled his eyebrows and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. “Just something to think about.”

Taking off down the hall, Stu left you to your own devices as you stood in the middle of an empty hallway with far too much on your mind. In an almost zombie-like trance, you took off in the direction of your biology class, not quite caring that you were about to be marked as tardy for the third time that week. But, before you got to that god-forsaken class, you heard the click of a door not far off before a pair of arms encircled around your middle, yanking you into the nearest classroom. A surprise yelp tore out of your mouth, but the full-fledged scream died in your throat as soon as you realized just who it was who had grabbed you.

“Jesus, Billy, you scared the hell out of me.” You grasped your chest and took in the dark, empty classroom around you. He was still holding you against the nearest wall, you could feel the heat of those large hands through your thin shirt. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Sorry,” despite the desperation in those brown eyes, his voice never wavered. It was still as calm and collected as ever. “I’d go to your house, but it’s been like Fort Knox for the last week or so.”

You chewed on your lip for a moment before averting your eyes to the ground, not quite being able to stomach the weight of his stare just yet. “Billy, unless anything’s changed, I—”

“In case anything’s changed?” He reiterated with raised brows. “Everything’s changed. I miss you, Y/N, more than you can even comprehend. I know I’ve fucked up, I know that, but I need you. The last nine days without being able to really see you or feel you or kiss you or—”

“I get it,” you held your hands up and gently pushed him away. “And it’s been hard on me, too, Billy. But it doesn’t change anything.”

For a few, long, agonizing moments, Billy remained still as a thousand different emotions splayed out across his face. There was anger and grief, sadness and desperation. But the look you got as he dropped to his knees in front of you was pure, unadulterated fear. “I promise you, Y/N, the second I can, when the time is right, Sid and I will be no more. But me and you are it, sweetheart,” his hands gently circled around your hips before embracing you around your middle. “I’m so fucking sorry that this is how it has to be right now. And I’m sorry that I’m too fucking selfish to let this go, but I can’t. I need you. I need us. You’re everything good in my life and I know I need to start proving that to you.”

Still, you remained quiet. Your fingers itched to reach out and run your fingers through that slightly greasy, unruly mop of hair, but instead you kept them pinned down at your side as you considered his words. There was no doubt in your mind that he meant them, the desperation on his face said as much, but you had your reservations. Taking your silence in stride, however, Billy simply reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.

Your heart nearly stopped.

“Oh, jesus,” you grumbled, burying your head in your hands. “You better not be doing what I think you’re fucking doing.”

“Open the box, Y/N.”

“No,” you held your hands up. “Not if it’s…that.”

Billy sighed. The muscle in his cheek twitched. “It’s not a fucking engagement ring.”

Somewhat relieved, you continued to stare down at the box in slight disdain. “So, what is it?”

Billy sighed. “Fucking open it and you’ll see.”

“Buying the ‘other woman’ jewelry, Billy?” You shook your head. “You’re like a walking cliché at this point.”

“Shut-up and open the goddamn box.” Standing up to his full height, he continued to hold the box out towards you and breathed out a quiet laugh when you remained unwavering. “It’s not a fucking bomb, Y/N, open it.”

With a sigh, you snatched the box out of his hand and, rather unceremoniously, opened it up to reveal a key. Not a fancy skeleton key or a charm in the shape of a key but a regular, run of the mill house key. You blinked, mildly surprised. “Okay, I’ll give you a point for creativity with the box,” you pulled the key out and observed it. “But what is it?”

“It’s a key,” Billy said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“I see that,” a small smile pulled at your lips as you looked across at him. “What’s it for?”

“It’s a key to my parents’ cabin.”

If you were meant to understand the significance, the story was lost on you. Looking back down at the key, you surveyed its tiny ridges briefly before nodding. “And what’s that have to do with me?”

He took a step towards you and grabbed the hand still clutching onto the key. “My dad doesn’t go up there much ever since my mother left and I figure we could both use a place where we can just…be.” His raked his thumbnail along your knuckles. “No Sid, no anyone. Just you and me.”

You were trying to remain unfazed by the sentiment, to remain icy and cool to the man you were supposed to be pulling away from, but between the softness in those warm brown eyes and the weight of the key still clutched in your hand, you could feel your defenses waning. “You expect Sid to just not care that you’re disappearing up north every once in a while?”

“I’ll make it work,” he shrugged it off. “And, to be honest, I don’t care what she thinks.”

Your answer came in the form of a long, drawn out sigh. “Billy,” you began, but before you could dive into the rest of your speech, his large hands slid up your arms and neck to cradle your face.

Slowly, he backed you into a nearby desk and traced the apple of your cheek with his thumb. “We can sneak up there whenever we want. Spend a whole weekend up there, just the two of us. I can worship this fucking body of yours in every square inch of that cabin. I can go into town and hold your fucking hand in public. We can do whatever the hell it is we want to do up there, whenever we want, without worrying about any of our idiot friends seeing us.”

Your pulse quickened at the thought of being able to parade around like a normal couple in a town where not a single soul knew who you were. You swallowed, trying to steady your excitement with a dose of realism. “It’s still not fair to Sidney.”

“Fuck Sidney!” Billy’s voice echoed out around the vast, empty classroom, alarming you with just how angry he sounded. His chest heaved with a white-hot rage that you couldn’t fully comprehend, and his jaw was wound shut as his nostrils flared with each and every heavy, uneven breath he took. You swallowed hard and watched the man steady his nerves, unsure of your next move. You’d seen Billy angry before, but that level of emotion was definitely new.

You weren’t sure whether to be terrified or turned on by the sudden outburst.

But, just as quickly as it happened, Billy’s eyes slowly opened to reveal those molasses coloured eyes again. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he appeased. “But I can’t have her stand in the way of this. I won’t.”

You remained silent as you shimmied on top of the desk that had been poking into your ass for the last few seconds and tried not to focus on the way your body seemed to melt into Billy’s as he stepped in between your legs, still looking at you with all the intensity of the world.

“If we do this,” you found yourself muttering, “there’s going to be some ground rules.”

A sense of hope blossomed in Billy’s chest as he vigorously nodded his head. “Anything you want,” sliding his hands up the sides your stomach, he gently held your waist and gave it a small squeeze. “You name it.”

“When we go up to the aforementioned cabin, we go out.” You told him. “While I’m more than happy to blow you in the living room without worrying about your dad walking in, it would be nice to go on an actual fucking date.”

Billy nodded and, with his hands still on your waist, he tried not to focus on the thin cotton of your shirt bunching between his fingers as his thumb danced along your ribcage. There was so little between you in the empty classroom, barely any space as the two of you were practically nose to nose. And between that short little skirt you had on and your pert nipples beneath your thin tank top, it was enough to make his cock twitch inside of his pants. “Anything else?” He asked, his voice husky as he nudged his nose against yours.

“Yeah,” you ran your tongue along your now parched lips as you sat with Billy standing between your thighs, holding you in place as his thumb traced agonizingly close to your tit. Were you even breathing? It didn’t feel like it. You were wet, too, which made his inhumanly close proximity almost too much to bear. “Lock the fucking door this time.”

A roguish grin enveloped his features as he stepped out from between your legs. Crossing the threshold of the classroom in two seconds flat, Billy locked the door and made his way back to you with that same mischievous glimmer in his eye. His eyes were hungry and, as his hands shifted down to your ass, he tugged you even closer to the edge of the desk. Closer to him. With your legs still open and on either side of his hips, you just about died when your clit managed to rub against the zipper of his jeans.

A quiet, low moan tore out of your throat from the sensation.

“Anything else?” He asked, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yeah,” your breathing was ragged as Billy’s slow, methodical fingers, trailed up the side of your stomach. He was being extraordinarily temperate and slow to further tease you but, despite knowing how risky this was, you were putty in his hands. “Touch me.”

His nose brushed against yours again as he shifted his hips just enough for the zipper of his jeans to rub against your clit again. The bastard knew what he was doing.

“This feel good?” He asked as his hips toiled into you again.

You were practically dry fucking against the desk, you could have been caught any second. But, fuck, when he pulled you in a little more and slowly gyrated his jean-clad pelvis against your clit again, you couldn’t care less. “Mhmm,” you hummed.

Slowly, Billy’s dept fingers slid up from your waist towards your breasts. Raking his thumb against the swollen bud, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on the side of your neck.

He knew his jeans were rubbing against your clit and, as he looked down and saw the visible wet patch on your blue thong, he wanted nothing more than to rip them off of you and bury his face in between your legs. “God, I’ve fucking missed you.”

When his hand squeezed your breast, you arched into his grasp. “I bet you did.”

Billy smirked and rolled your nipples between his fingers through the fabric of your shirt. With every roll of your hips, the strap of your shirt slipped down just enough to expose your breast. Without missing a beat, Billy leaned into your chest and allowed his mouth to consume your nipple, swirling his tongue around it expertly before biting down. You hissed as a combination of both pain and pleasure ripped through your body.

Your fingers curled around the hair along the nape of his neck and gave it a firm tug as is hands held you firmly in place. “Fuck, Billy” you moaned, breathless.

He released your nipple slowly, nipping at it one final time before leaning his forehead against yours again. You wanted like hell to close the distance between you. You wanted to feel his lips on yours. Feel the tickle of his stubble along your upper lip and have that expert tongue brush against yours.

But you also wanted to make him sweat a little.

You weren’t sure what had come over you as you slid your hand down your torso. Maybe it was adrenaline of being caught or the relief of having Billy in your arms again but as you allowed your fingers to dip beneath the hem of your exposed thong, the look on Billy’s face made it all worth it.

“What are you doing?” His Adams apple bobbed up and down as he watched you touch yourself. You were in an awkward angle, but as your finger circled your clit and you watched the bulge in his pants grow, you were coasting high.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” You hummed, feigning innocence. “When I say touch me, I mean it, Billy. I’m taking matters into my own hands.” You pinched your clit and arched your naked chest into him. “Fuck.”

You heard him swear under his breath as his lips ghosted over yours. “You’re doing my head in, woman,” he growled, sliding his fingers beneath your panties. You gasped when his thumb began to circle your clit. And when he slid two fingers inside of you, you nearly saw stars.

His mouth found yours, mid-moan. Reaching the hand that had just been down the waistband of your shorts, you ran your fingers through his hair as his tongue coaxed yours. Everything about this man was electric. His fingers quickened their pace and before you knew it, you were thrusting into his hand. Placing sloppy kisses down from your mouth and along your jaw, Billy nipped at your ear. “How’s this for touching you, sweetheart?” He hissed, licking and biting his way across your neck.

Your breathing was rampant as you felt yourself edging closer and closer. “It’s alright,” you teased with a cloudy grin.

“So stubborn,” he laughed into your neck and curled his fingers so that he hit an area inside you that felt almost primal. The moan he got in return made him bite down on your collarbone. He curled his fingers again and you nearly choked. “You sure?”

Pulling his hair, you steered his face back to yours and crashed your lips against his. “Fuck me.” You mumbled into his mouth.

He applied the smallest bit of pressure to your clit and flicked his fingers one final time, sending you over the cliff. With a long, shaky moan, you bucked your hips uncontrollably as you came into his hand. Every inch of you felt as though it was on fire as Billy made you ride out your orgasm, not for a second easing up on your clit as you writhed beneath him.

“Play with your tits,” he barked out through hooded eyes.

“You play with them,” you argued, but the resolve in your voice was gone. You weren’t entirely sure if you knew your name at that point. All you could focus on was the feeling of his finger pinching your highly sensitive clit and that was it. Everything else was a blur.

“God, you’re so fucking stubborn.”

You were so wet and so turned on you could barely think straight. “Billy,” you pleaded, your entire body heating up almost unbearably so. When he ignored you and instead continued his attack on your clit, you whimpered. “I need you to fuck me.”

With a bruising kiss, Billy released your clit and, in seconds flat, tugged his jeans far enough down his hips before slipping inside of you. The moan that escaped your lips was undeniable as he pumped into you. Reaching up, he grabbed your tit and squeezed as he bit down on your exposed neck. It was a sensory overload coming from all angles.

“Fuck,” Billy’s hoarse voice was in your ear as he pumped into you. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N.” He reached for your face and tilted your chin up towards him, meeting you halfway with a sloppy kiss. Moaning into his mouth, you managed lose yourself in that instance.

Gone was the room around you.

Hell, gone was everything up until this point.

All you could focus on was the feeling of Billy inside of you. Biting down on his lip, you tugged it back as he rolled his hips in a way that made you quiver. He was thrusting, hard, in an almost animalistic that made your entire body shake with the velocity of every desperate push. He moved between kissing your lips, to biting them to suckling your neck as he continued to rail into you with all of passion in the world. He was a man, unhinged, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever seen him so sexy.

Not surprising in the least, it didn’t take him long to come. You’d riled him up to the point of no return and, as you felt him come inside of you, you all but laughed when his forehead dramatically fell against your own.

For a few minutes, neither of you moved, simply just remained still and firmly pressed against one another. But, as the weight of your current whereabouts slowly dawned on either of you, you both slowly pulled away from each other, both wearing a small smile as you re-dressed yourselves.

Once his pants were done up, Billy stepped into you once again and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Cabin this weekend, okay?”

You nodded and hopped down from the desk. “Yeah, maybe,” you teased, fixing your skirt.

Billy’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, maybe, eh?”

“Yeah,” you winked, “I’ll think about it.”

“Smart ass,” Billy smirked. “That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days.”

“I’m counting on it.” Once you were both fixed up, you nodded towards his hand which was still slicked with your juices. You laughed. “Oops.”

But Billy didn’t seem fazed. Instead, your breath hitched in your throat when he raised his hand to his lips and licked your slick clear off, relishing in the taste of it with a knowing smirk on his face. “This weekend.” He reiterated, driving the point home.

“This weekend,” you agreed, walking towards the door. Ensuring nobody saw the two of you leave an empty classroom together, you unlocked the door and gave Billy a small, knowing smile. “See you at lunch, lover boy.”

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uvobreakmylegs · 3 years

Text

Retrieval

I just wanted to write some gross shit sorry

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, death, graphic imagery, gore, blood, degradation, threats of violence

A trio of very intoxicated men stumbled out of the front door of the bar followed by you. You held the door open for a second as you called out to the men to have a good night and to come back soon, but before you could give any of them a chance to respond you had shut the door and locked it, the bell on the door jingling above you. Maybe you weren't being too subtle about wanting them to leave already so you and your coworker could clean up the place, but at the moment you couldn't say you cared too much. It was after midnight and you wanted to go home.

Your coworker, Corey, chuckled at you from the entryway to the kitchen.

“Not very professional of you.”

“Because people like that are coming to a sports bar for professionalism and not to get drunk off of their asses,” you answered, grabbing a bucket and rag to begin with wiping down the tables.

“It's on you if they call back to complain,” he teased.

You laughed.

“Like any of them will be able to remember when they wake up tomorrow.”

“Guess you got a point there.”

You hummed in agreement, wiping down the wooden seats of the chairs before glancing back to him; Corey was still standing in the doorway, checking something on his phone.

“Are you going to clean up back there or are you expecting me to do it for you?” you teased him.

Corey held up his hands in mock surrender before he disappeared back to the kitchen.

The small sports bar you worked at always got pretty messy, both inside the kitchen and out. Food crumbs, wet stains from spilled drinks and small things like loose change, wads of gum and people's small personal items littered the dark carpeted floor. The tables and chairs were usually in a similar state in terms of the food and drink residue. At least you had never needed to clean the bathrooms.

Moving from table to table, you would wipe the surfaces clean, letting the mess on top fall to the floor before you set the chairs upside down on top of the table. Whatever had ended up on the floor you'd get with the vacuum later. It was time consuming and monotonous, but there was a weird part of you that got a certain satisfaction of being able to return the dining area back to a clean state, even if it would be all ruined by the next evening.

Even if it was stupid, at least you actually had the freedom to do what you liked no matter how stupid it was.

Corey was playing something on his phone in the kitchen; knowing him, it was probably some new podcast he had gotten into. The noise you could hear from the back was drowned out when you turned on the vacuum cleaner, trying in vain to clean up everything on the floor. You really wished the owners would take the time and money to replace the carpet with some hardwood; it would make cleaning up easier and would just look nicer.

The bar was always last because it wasn't usually that bad and you could get away with a not so thorough job as you tried to finish up before your shift ended. Corey was almost always done with the kitchen at this point and would be ready to mop the floor after you wiped down the counter.

As expected, Corey was waiting in the kitchen doorway with the mop bucket right next to him when you made it to the bar counter.

“Any plans after you get off?” he asked.

“Sleep,” you answered.

“You sure lead an exciting life,” he said jokingly.

“It's going to be after one in the morning soon; what kind of plans could I have?”

“I don't know. Figured maybe you'd have a boyfriend waiting for you or something.”

Boyfriend.

That word brought back some unpleasant memories. Of things you wanted to forget, and what you had run away from all those months ago.

You tried not to show it, but Corey seemed to pick up on the way you tensed at that.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I'm fine,” you told him hastily, “not in the dating scene currently. I needed a break.”

He nodded slowly.

“Gotcha.”

You couldn't say that the two of you were particularly close, having only known each other a little less than a couple of months, but you did appreciate that he understood boundaries. Too many of the older staff were nosy and wanted to know your business, which frequently got on your nerves.

Wiping down the last bit of the bar, you were about to throw the cleaning rag back into its bucket when you both heard a loud banging sound coming from the kitchen.

“What the hell?” said Corey.

“I'll check it; you start mopping out here,” you told him.

He nodded as you brushed past him, your eyes looking about the kitchen as you entered it, trying to find the source of the noise. Setting down the bucket on one of the counters, you made your way to the back when you didn't see anything.

The culprit ended up being a large pan that had somehow fallen off the shelf. Most likely from being stacked incorrectly. That was annoying, since you now needed to wash it off, with it having touched the floor and all.

“Everything okay?” Corey called back to you.

“Yeah. Something fell,” you answered.

The wash you gave the pan was rather haphazard, but as you set it to the side to dry overnight, you figured that if the crew in the morning had an issue with it, they could clean it again. Right now you were five minutes away from clocking out and you wanted to get out on time.

“We're all good out here,” Corey's voice called again.

You were about to answer him when you noticed the bucket you had brought in, and when you ran over to dump the water out, you noticed the rag was missing.

“Ah shit.”

You'd left it on the bar counter, didn't you?

You had indeed managed to do that, and you slipped past Corey, standing on your toes and propping an arm on the bar counter as you reached for the rag.

“Could you maybe not step on my clean floors?”

“Sorry,” you called back, “need to grab something.”

Pulling the rag off of the counter by its tattered edge, you pushed off the counter a bit as you moved back to get off of the wet floor.

Somehow, you slipped. You felt your feet slipping against the wet tile as you fell backwards, and you had only seconds to try and brace for impact.

You hit something, but it wasn't the floor.

Corey had moved behind and grabbed you just in time. He held you like that for a moment so you could adjust your footing and stand up properly.

It was then you both realized that, in his efforts to save you from a nasty fall, one of his hands had accidentally ended up grabbing ahold of your breast, and he was currently groping you.

“Fuck I am so sorry!” he exclaimed, pulling his hands away the second you righted yourself.

“It's okay,” you answered. It came out a bit shaky, though that was mostly due to you almost falling.

“I swear that was an accident,” Corey continued.

“It's okay,” you insisted, “seriously, it's fine. I prefer that over having my skull break open.”

Corey nodded, but still looked sheepish, a hand coming up to scratch the back of his head while he looked at the floor.

Eager to alleviate this new tension, you wracked your brain for something to say that would get things feeling not so weird again.

“Hey,” you said, “I didn't fall, so at least your floors have been spared from that.”

He chuckled a little bit.

“For the most part. But you still stepped on them in the first place.”

“I forgot I left the rag! Give me a break.”

“I will, if you move so I can re-mop the floor,” he said.

Happy that things seemed to have gone back to normal, you complied, walking back into the kitchen and tossing the rag into a bin. You grabbed the bucket again, hoisting it up to dump the murky contents into the sink.

A loud noise sounded from the dining area, like wood being split apart accompanied by the light tingling of a bell.

It was so unexpected and so noisy even in the kitchen that you jumped, causing you to spill some water onto the floor.

That noise..... Was that the front door? From hearing the bell it sounded like it, but hadn't you locked it?

“Sir,” Corey's voice sounded through the kitchen door, “w-we're closed.”

Corey saying that indicated that someone had come in, but that noise wasn't normal, and you set the bucket back down as you went back to the dining area to investigate.

And how did this person get in? You were certain you had locked that door.

You pushed open the door-

And froze.

Phinks.

He was standing in front of the bar's entrance, the door practically pulled off of it's hinges and hanging open. Bits of the door frame had splintered off from the force he had used to wrench it open and had been scattered on the walkway leading up to it.

But there was no way Phinks gave a shit about that.

The second you opened that door, his eyes were on you.

Rage.

Pure rage radiated from him, a blackened aura you swore you could see that slowly began to fill the empty spaces in the bar, his form stiff and his hands in fists that were clenched so hard that his knuckles had turned white.

Only months ago you had done everything to get away from this man. Now he had found you, and he looked like he was ready to kill.

Corey looked back when you had entered, and immediately noticed your terrified expression.

“You know him?” he asked you.

Words couldn't come out. They just stayed trapped in your throat as you looked between him and Phinks, your breathing becoming short and harsh.

That had told Corey everything, as he stepped in front of you and addressed Phinks firmly.

“Sir, please leave now. We're going to call the police.”

With Corey now in the way, you couldn't see Phinks. But when he spoke for the first time since entering, you could sense just how much angrier he had become at Corey's actions.

“Un-fucking-believable,” he hissed.

Corey turned back, reaching out to you as he said “go call nine-”

Faster than either you or he could even think, Corey was pulled over the bar and brutally thrown across the room, crashing into one of the tables, the wood surface splintering and the chairs on top flying.

“Don't fucking touch her.”

Phinks' attention was on Corey now, and he stepped away from the bar. Corey was groaning and disoriented. There was blood dripping down his face as well as his arm, and he was shaking so violently that he couldn't push himself up off of the floor, instead collapsing over and over again onto the bits of broken table.

Phinks stood before him and reached down to pull him up by the collar of his shirt.

Corey pushed away his arm and stumbled backwards, hitting the edge of another table. You could see his eyes now, and the way he looked at Phinks in terror and confusion.

“Pathetic,” Phinks spat.

The blonde rolled up the sleeve on his right arm, and began to wind that arm in a clockwise motion.

That was familiar, you realized, as a horrible memory was brought back.

A man had tried to cut the strap of your purse as you and Phinks were walking home one night. Phinks had noticed and pulled you out of the way, but not fast enough, and you had ended up with a large gash on your arm.

“You think I'm scared of you?” the man had said when an infuriated Phinks approached him, winding up his arm once, then twice and then three times.

Phinks punched him and the man went flying; across the empty street and into the side of a building. The impact had left a dent in the bricks and the man's blood smeared on the surface as his body slid down onto the pavement.

Your mind had gone hopelessly blank at the sight of that, the wound on your arm you had been nursing forgotten as you stared wide-eyed at your boyfriend, who quickly returned to your side and chided you for taking pressure off of the cut.

“Ph-Ph-Phinks,” you stuttered.

“Yeah?”

“You..... You killed that man.”

Phinks' gaze narrowed.

“What's your point?”

He was going to do it again.

That brought you out of your stupor, and you rushed to the edge of the bar as you yelled out “Phinks! Please! Don't kill him!”

More pleas for Corey's life were about to spill from your lips when he glared back at you, a silent command for you to shut the hell up. That look made you freeze up again, and you stood by helplessly, holding on to the edge of the bar as you watched Corey struggle to stay upright.

That murderous aura that had been around him was now stifling, and it affected Corey to the point that he was having trouble breathing.

You counted at least twenty times that Phinks had rotated his arm, the aura increasing every time he did it.

Phinks glanced back at you again, and rotated once more.

He punched Corey in the face.

And Corey's entire upper half exploded.

His head was completely gone, face caving in on itself where Phinks had punched until it burst out through the back of his skull. His chest and arms were blown to pieces from the impact, the smaller bits of muscle and organs ripping out of him and sticking to the walls while the larger pieces of meat slid down with the copious amounts of blood and collected into the booths below. His lower half that remained mostly intact slumped beneath the table he had been leaning against, the remainder of his insides spilling out onto the floor while one of his legs still twitched. There was a fine red mist in the air over what remained intact, slowly settling down and soaking into the dark carpet.

You couldn't move.

You just stood there, keeping your hold on the edge of the bar, occasionally tensing and untensing your fingers as you looked at the piles of red slush and bone that had been your coworker.

Phinks had already walked away from it, coming towards the bar. But he passed by you, slamming the door to the kitchen open and letting it swing shut as he entered. You could hear movement, the sounds of his shoes scraping on the brick-red tile of the floor, glass clinking, him cursing to himself, a faucet being turned, and a familiar sound of water filling up a small container.

But you still stood there, unable to take your eyes away from the horrific scene. Minutes, no, seconds ago, that had been a person. Corey had friends, family and aspirations. And within a single moment, that person had been reduced to a mangled corpse that would only fill half of a body bag. How would they identify him? Whoever cleaned him up, would they be able to get everything? Or would bits of him be left behind and stay forever buried in the cracks and crevices of the bar?

You had seen Phinks kill before and it had made you sick then, but nothing had ever been anywhere near as terrible as this.

Corey's leg had stopped twitching, but blood that had hit the wall continued to trickle down in small streams.

You heard Phinks let out a loud sigh as a glass slammed against a metal counter top.

“Okay,” he called out, “I think I've calmed down now.”

Those footsteps in the back became louder and the door swung open again. Phinks appeared by your side, and when he gently put a hand on your arm, you finally looked away from Corey.

Phinks opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when he glanced over to the mess he had left.

“... Lets go to the back,” he said after a moment.

He pulled you with him into the kitchen, and you didn't fight him on it. He still looked angry, but it was considerably less than when he had first entered.

Phinks leaned against the rim of the sink, one hand staying on you as you were positioned to stand in front of him.

“Been a while,” he said quietly.

You didn't respond.

He tsked.

“Goddammit. I find you again after months, and now you can't speak because of that asshole out there. Look, I know I overdid it, but after seeing the way that guy touched you I couldn't control myself.”

His eyes narrowed and he continued “why the fuck did you let him get away with touching you like that?”

Somehow, you managed to find your voice.

“I-it.... It was an a-accident.”

Phinks' free hand came up to lightly slap the side of your head. It didn't hurt, but you flinched regardless.

He had used that hand to end Corey's life; he could easily do the same to you.

“Stupid. You actually thought a move like that was accidental? That bastard was taking advantage of you and you were laughing it off.”

That wasn't true. It had been an accident. But instead of volunteering those thoughts, you bit down on your lip as it began to quiver, tears starting to form in your eyes.

“Don't cry. Sorry. I shouldn't have hit you,” he said, his hand going back up to where he hit, softly stroking your hair.

“I'm just so fucking pissed at how gullible you are. What do you think would've happened if someone smarter had tried taking advantage of you? Fuck, some guys wouldn't need to be smarter; they'd just need to be strong enough to pin you down. Do you even realize how many ways you could've been fucked over before I found you? Did you even think about that? Or was that just me, because I'm actually capable of having some fucking sense?”

His hands settled on your shoulders and his grip became tighter.

“I've been stressed out of my mind trying to figure out where the hell you went, how the hell you managed to get away, or what condition you'd be in when I found you. I couldn't find you and I swear I was going insane. And after all that, when I finally manage to track you down, I have to see you letting some piece of trash grope you?”

Those hands slid up until they were around your neck, and his grip became tighter still.

“It would be so easy,” he murmured, “to just snap your neck and be done with it. Then the constant headache I get from worrying about you would go away. If you're going to fight and run away from me than what's the point?

“Maybe it'd be better for me if you were dead.”

It was deathly quiet in that kitchen.

Phinks still held that grip on you, and you were certain he could feel how fast your heart was beating through the pulse in your neck. You stood there, stiff and quiet as he looked you over, thinking to himself.

He really was considering it.

Any wrong move from you, and there would be two corpses to be found in the morning.

After a few painfully silent moments, he sighed again.

“But I think that if I killed you, part of me would die, too. Maybe that sounds stupid, but it's the truth.”

Finally taking his hands off your throat, he pulled you against his chest to embrace you.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” Phinks said, “but I'd be even more miserable if I didn't have you. Does that make sense?”

Your face was pressed against the front of his tracksuit and you found yourself focusing on the patterned colors of white, red and green.

“I've heard it said a lot that being in love means that you also have to suffer,” he continued, “do you think that's true?”

“..... I don't know.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper and was muffled by the way he pressed you against his chest, but he still managed to hear your answer as he actually chuckled, rubbing the top of your head.

“'I don't know'. Big surprise there,” he said sarcastically, “you haven't changed a bit.”

When he pulled you away he was smiling, wiping away your tears with his thumb as he told you “don't cry anymore. I'm taking you home.”

Hearing that only made you want to cry more.

“Go get your bag and anything else you brought in,” he continued, “I already went to your apartment and packed up your stuff there. Once we're done here we can head out.

“We'll be back home before you know it.”

#phinks x reader #yandere #yandere hxh #phinks magcub #phinks #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere phinks #yandere x reader #reader insert

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