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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months

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The Horror and The Wild (emperor!Konig x fem!Reader)

A day after you and Konig's wedding. Who knew that evil emperors could be so romantic. Tags and TWs: Dub-con, aphrodisiacs, power imbalance, breeding kink, size difference, loss of virginity, age difference(Konig in his forties, Reader in her twenties), medieval/fantasy AU, Konig is a pervert AND an evil dictator Word count: 3256 AO3

— Lift your hips up, princess. You don’t want to waste my seed.

You whimper, trying to get your legs down, so he can’t force you to spread them anymore – but you feel the hot seed getting back in the swell of your well-used maidenhood, and it makes you whimper only more. What a woeful sight indeed – a fake princess crying over having to take the seed of the strongest person in the whole continent. You know a thousand of women who would beg for an opportunity to have the Emperor’s hands on their hips, guiding them down to admire the look. You know that the real princess – your princess – would never agree to this ordeal, no matter the begging and the bribery. So, you don’t agree too. — In m…my culture, a bride should wait at least a month after the marriage before the…conception, Your Majesty.

You lie through gritted teeth like it could change anything. Like it could magically force all the seed from your womb to the ground again, to the silk of the sheets under you. Like the mere tradition that you gave birth to the idea of a minute ago would stop you from being König’s breeding mare. Still, you refuse to lift your hips, a small resistance that puts a small chuckle to his lips. He is amused by you – or your stupidity. Princesses are supposed to be spoiled and bratty, right? Yours certainly was.

— Does your culture also make the bride lie to her husband?

You lick your lips, forcing them closed. No another quick witty word from you – your lies already got you on the edge of…something. After König announced he knew who you were this entire time, he got you on your back, on your belly, with your hips up and down, your head silly from lack of air as he choked you until you begged for your life – only for him to kiss you over and over. Feeding your womb with his seed until there was a bump, not giving any chance that the baby wasn’t there yet. If anything, he conquered your body the same way he did your country – and left your bruised hips as a reminder. The handprinted bruises covering your skin like the finest fabrics of the gown he got you.

— If you wish to order me dead, your majesty.

— Death doesn’t mean anything here, meine Liebe.

— Then banish me. For the lies and the betrayal of a royal…

He laughs – it’s a nice sound, still, something in your deprived mind likes the way you make him laugh and chuckle. Something in your head makes you feel as dizzy as you did when he cut off the air in your throat, every time that cold eyes of his look at you with warmth. heated obsession, whatever that is – you refuse to believe it was genuine, as you were borrowing your princess’s identity, but now, when he laughed and spoke about his true intentions, you weren’t sure if a pathetic and lowly lady-in-waiting is as safe in you as you thought.

— If being as stupid as you are is a punishable crime, then I’d finalyl have a good reason to kill off most of my harem. He laughs again, a hand in your hair – getting out all of the fancy pins and bows and dead flowers that were forced to be held in your crown and on your head. You groan in pleasure as the pins scraping your scalp are finally removed – and try to get back at his hand immediately when he comes to squeeze your breasts again. Not for any reason – simply because you happened to have the aspects of your body that he could touch.

— Would be much safer to get a woman from a harem, sir. Not…not me.

— And if I wanted just you?

König looks at you – trembling, loved out completely. Covered in his marks, as many bites as a princess could take. Even being a servant, you’re almost as gentle and reserved as a real deal – but gods, if you weren’t the cutest thing he ever saw in that damned ugly country of yours. Hating nobility as much as he hated speaking to his troops not as their commander, König never particularly enjoyed the idea of having to marry some bitchy royal daughter…you, however, were the loophole in the god’s contract. A gift, just for him.

— Your council would make me disappear for deceiving you in the first place.

— No one would dare to leave the empire without heirs.

— You could have another one. There are plenty of princesses out there, Your Highness.

— And I don’t have enough patience to entertain you trying to sell me the idea of your freedom. Do you know what relief I felt when you were the one to meet me?

You don’t answer, instead prompting to just listen. You have good ears for listening – for allowing others to talk, so you wouldn’t be made to fill in awkward silences. König loves that and appreciates that. Finally, someone who can just be silent – even if he also has nothing to say, at least you’re scared and angry enough to dismiss him anyway. At least your unwillingness is making him less awkward at participating in the conversation.

— You knew who I was all along?

— Princesses are pampered. Even the poorest kingdom would never have a princess with hands as hard-working as yours, Schatz.

He takes his hands in yours – no matter the healing creams you rubbed in them, no matter the lack of actual physical labor, even the smallest tasks you performed for the princess, the tiniest exposure to cleaning supplies that would make the toughest skin crack, left a small traces in the skin of your palm. Fingers with clean nails – short, practical, indicating the need to have your hands in working order all of the time. Indicating your lack of a servant who would do everything – opening buttons on clothes, embroidery, and washing oneself’s body. indicating that you were said servant.

You look embarrassed that he pointed that out. Scared, almost.

— Are my hands too ugly for you, sir?

He can see the tremble in your fingers. He traces them with his – large, calloused hands keeping you in place. Rough skin and multiple ridges of scars over the darkened skin made you shiver from the contrast of the sensation – those are the hands of a ruler who isn’t afraid of taking a sword in his hands. Who almost got his arms chopped off for this altogether.

Then – he kisses them.

One finger at a time, every ridge and bump in your skin deserves a graze of emperor’s teeth as he tugs on rough skin around your knuckles. Your hands are soft, softer than a normal maid would have – but changed from the work you had to put. Every kiss and lick doesn’t make them gentle, doesn’t remove the experience you had – in braiding hair, in washing clothes, in cleaning up after a royal mess. It doesn’t change who you were, but with every little praise he whispers – crude language, really, but the affection in his words scares you more than any foreign insult could – with every toss of his lips over your palms, he is changing who you are. Who will you become in just a week or two.

He calls your hands beautiful – in North tongue, with a smile on his face. König loves to explore, and your body is a beautiful place for him to be. Your hands are the best place he could have been in the morning.

Some historians are already saying he has done more to this country than any other ruler ever could. But oh, the emperor knows that the most important thing he did here was kiss your fingers. Over and over.

You snap your arms back when he finally breaks down, starting to bite – the softer skin of your palms falling victim to his sharp teeth. Emperors aren’t supposed to have sharp teeth but for all he knows, he was born from a dog and raised by one. A wolf in wolf’s clothing.

— Your hands belong to an empress.

— Thought I was a regent.

— You are, mein Schatz. Can’t trust you with a country, ja?

You laugh, but there are tears in your eyes. Loss of whatever authority you could have as the princess's personal maid – her friend if he knew anything about royals and their habits. Scheisse, he was the emperor for 10 long years and still didn’t get a hang of it. Might be something he had to be born with – such a shame, really. Should have told his mother to never give birth to a rat that would usurp the throne once out of the crib.

He loves to see you weak, trembling like this – like a proper bride should. Like a real princess, the one whose manners should be enough to fool the people and the dumbest of his court. The smartest ones could always agree to put their tongues up their behinds – if they don’t want to get their heads chopped off by his blade, without even bothering an executioner to do it.

— But you can trust me with your children?

— This empire needs an heir. As much as I can rule forever.

— No one is immortal.

— Ach. Did Sebastian forget to visit you before the wedding, little princess?

He is mocking you, again and again – he laughs with death and you hate it, you hate yourself, you loathe him and his laughs and his crooked smile and the scars covering his skin and…he kisses your hands again, then – dips your hands up in that mask of his. Lets you feel the skin, involuntarily trace your fingertips all over everything hidden – you touch his teeth, his fangs, and you gasp in shock. So, the monster has lips. So, the monster has thin lips and wet mouth, and he dips his tongue all over the traces of knuckles and…

König knows you’d never agree to be his in a way that he wants you too – but this is fine. He can work you around. He can break you. He can please you. What a wonderful job would this be.

— Your court would soon find out I’m not the one.

— They know how to keep their mouths shut. You would, however, have to deal with my harem personally.

— Did you intended to add my princess to your harem too?

— If I knew that you wouldn’t take her place? Of course. I never visited the place for the exact reason I didn’t bother to find your patron.

— Are you really satisfied with the scraps?

Oh, his poor, dumb girl – he was feeding off scraps since he was ripped away from his mom’s tit. You were the only fancy meal he ever liked in his life – and gods, if he wouldn’t give up anything to taste you again.

On the other side, however, he can do just that.

König dips his head down, the traces of his hood laying on your labia. You whimper.

— I never ate anything as exquisite as you, little princess.

— I’m n…why do you keep calling me this?

— You will be my princess. Forever trapped on my lap, on the floor, chained to my throne like a…

With each word, his tongue laps on the glossiness of your lower lips. He gives your maiden a little kiss all over, he digs down like it’s a fancy meal indeed – the scrawny hairs of his stubble make you whimper every time they graze your clit. König has a fleeting thought of eating his cum out of your poor, sore body – that it wouldn’t be wise, that it would make the process of impregnating you slower. Then, he thinks – he can just fill you up with his seed later. And in the evening. And tomorrow.

He pushes his tongue down, deep – you gasp, you get your hands on his hood, not trying to tear it apart, but laying there like a scared maiden. You were one – you are one, after all. Gods, he could just keep you here forever if it weren’t for the country needing its empress.

König kisses you all over – you’re still smelling like rose water, like fragrances that were forcefully rubbed on your skin right before the wedding. A proper lady, you were bathed in salts and oils like a kitchen in poor man’s soup – but weren’t you looking beautiful in that dress of yours. Too bad he had to rip it eventually, stepping on it accidentally quite a few times as he was getting you water. Your little trick with the herb did make you thirsty in all possible ways.

You don’t know a lot about royal weddings, but you’re pretty sure that the emperor shouldn’t be sprawled on his giant bed like this, eating you out like you were the roasted lamb served at yesterday’s feast. You moan when the material of his mask is getting tricky with your gentle parts when the rough fabric is scrapping your thighs in a way that is far from arousal – and then he leans in, a head laying on your tummy. Your princess parts are swollen from his actions – and lack thereof. You almost think you could buck your hips up like a… König takes off his hood.

— Wh…what are y… You don’t master enough words before he is forcing his face against yours before his lips finally lay down on yours properly – and gods isn’t this a beautiful sight. The emperor, the vile conqueror, your biggest enemy, and your husband – smiling like a boy when he got free candy, like a cat who got the cream – like a man so in love, it makes him unable to stop smiling while looking at his wife.

He isn’t pretty in the sense that some of the rulers can be pretty – he isn’t hideous either. A rough face doesn’t look like something that belongs to a royal family – big nose, small lips, chiseled chin and not a sight of inbreeding. You try to see if his ears are wrong, at least, but they are fine – not caring about a bit of chopped-off bits, probably from old battles. He is rugged and handsome and rough and you hate that red stubble on his chin and his gorgeous ginger hair – if you were forced to see this face every day, you might give up and like him. It’s a good thing he wears the mask most of the time, isn’t it?

— You don’t like how your emperor looks, little princess? He laughs again, then – cups your face in his hands and kisses you all over. Again and again, his lips fell on yours making you feel dumb, making you feel dizzy and just a bit charmed – like the potion you drank yesterday hadn’t fully worn off. You can taste your own pleasure on his lips and it makes you embarrassed – a proper lady should never enjoy a process as dirty as making love – your lower parts should only exist for him to take pleasure in ruining it, and for you – to birth little princes.

But König bows down before your lower lips, but König presses his tongue against your special spot again and again, and it makes you wonder if he recites the anthem of the empire on the little swollen bud between your legs – for his actions are filled with devotion that should only be reserved for one’s country, not for just a poor, dumb handmaiden whose only job was to lie and to protect. But…is it really all you want to do now? Just lay here and let him take him, without a chance of enjoying him playing with you if only for just a bit longer? — I…I believe you look fine, Your Majesty.

— Just fine?

He smiles and kisses you down there again – the aftermath of your pleasure makes his lips feel too hard on your swollen parts, the climax had taken everything from you left only feelings, as naked and trembling as you are right now – and, by god, if you aren’t feeling like sold and set in pieces. You are selling your dignity right now, the loyalty to your kingdom is getting grazed by each new stroke of his tongue. You close your eyes and moan – for you can’t hold off your pleasure anymore. For you don’t see a reason in trying to pretend you don’t enjoy being treated like a princess after a life of servitude.

— You are fine for an emperor, my…my husband. You struggle to say it – but you do have to say it eventually, at least in front of the servants. If he isn’t intent on keeping you locked away in a tower, pumping out babies like his little servant – maybe he wouldn’t want to keep you open for the world to take. You were a secluded princess kept in shadows before he discovered you, after all. You served the one, at least.

— Trying to cover the harsh words with honey, ja? I killed for less, mein Schatz.

— I assume you won’t kill me before the first son, at least?

— Wouldn’t kill you even if you’d be barren. I’d rather leave the empire to rot without an heir than choose someone else in your place.

— That is awful news for your empire.

— Our empire can rot without you, Meine Liebe. Never wanted the damned crown in the first place.

— But you’re fine with putting it on the head of a commoner?

— I was a commoner once. Know better than anyone else that a princess would never make a good wife.

You never studied his rise to power – the latest politics were hidden from you and the princess, the king never wanted to taint his daughter with such silly things as rising stars of the political arena – and he failed to mention the empire that was once rotting from its head getting a ruler who would take half of the continent and a daughter of every kingdom in his harem as the spoils of war.

He lays down beside you, taking you in his arms again. his hair flows all around you – he smells like blood, still, even after so many hours spent bathing in your shared musk. You wonder if everything he had done with the forbidden rituals made him like this – face torn and stitched back together again, harsh scars that can only be made from a blade or claws of a giant animal – and he pushes you down to press your face against his chest, taking in the feeling of laying beside your husband.

— Don’t you have something that needs to be done, Your Highness?

— The most important thing I need to do is lay between your legs, little princess. And you’re too swollen to be doing that.

You press your forehead against his chest. Taking it him and the light tan of his skin – you wonder where he could get it, if he almost never took off his armor. His face is as pale as it can be, and it makes him look a little silly when naked – but you refuse to smile and make him angry. — I thought you wanted me to meet your harem.

— They can wait. We need to give them time to prepare the poison for you, right?

He laughs and you don’t find anything better to do than to press your head against his chest and close your eyes. The royal visits really can wait until tomorrow.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #call of duty #yandere cod #cod x you #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig cod #yandere male #male yandere #yandere #yandere imagines

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ceruleanchillin · 4 months

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141 x Reader: Biker!AU

Note(s) -

1.) Nobody asked for this, but here I am combining two obsessions. Congrats, you’re a biker’s old lady now 🎉.

Any media with hot guys in a group should have outlaw MC AUs

2.) I love roughneck Simon. Please give me more of him. I wanna talk about the guys in this AU so badly, don’t (DO) feed my inbox. BlueCollar!Simon, Mafia!Simon, Mechanic!Simon, Idc I love it all.

3.) If you saw this before, no you didn’t (plus I added more to it). I decided to keep them all together, and it’ll just be long as hell. A long fic stored under a cut never hurt nobody.🤷🏾‍♀️

Simon

Nobody can get him as soft as you. There’s a 3-ringed barrier around his heart. Outsiders < The Club < You.

He loves doing mundane things with you, the kind of things he never saw for himself when he swore to stay single in this life. Like, after a good run fattens his wallet, letting you run wild in the shops.

“C’mon on then lovie, give us a spin.”

You squealed, spinning so the soft fabric fanned around your upper thighs. “I love it! But Si, it’s too much.”

“You let me worry about that sweetheart. Just let me see how it looks comin’ offa ya.” He gripped the very thighs you teased him with, eager for his favorite part besides your smile.

He’d pick up as many extra runs as it took to keep you in small luxuries, as long as he was the one that got to keep that look on your face.

They all have tattoos, but Simon is the king. His body art is top notch, because he’s very discerning with his artists. He’s had the best from Europe to the States. Now, he only trusts Price’s old lady, Johnny, and you.

In fact, that’s how you met. You started your apprenticeship under an asshole who bailed before it was over, and took a chance on the dangerous shop everyone warned you away from. Mrs. Price was everything you were afraid of AT FIRST. You later understood it was because the shop is 141 affiliated, and she had to be harshly discerning to protect herself and her family.

Once you got over that phase, she was unendingly sweet, and dedicated to helping you hone your craft.

Simon saw you when he came to fix the sink in the shop’s little kitchen. You were the only one there, intensely focused on a practice skin arm.

You were beautiful, hair wild from you tugging at in concentration, and your tongue poking out slightly. How long had you been working here?

“I knew you needed a hand around here, but that’s a bit far isn’t it?”

You jumped, startled out of your practice, the buzz of the tattoo gun stopping. “Oh my god! I don’t know what scared me more, you, or that joke.”

The two of you kept each other company in your respective tasks, until he was done. In admitting you were aching to do a real tattoo again, he found himself volunteering on instinct.

At first you resisted, worried about the ethics in your mentor’s shop, and he came up with the genius idea of going back to your place. Smooth Simon.

By the end of the night he was sure he’d never need another artist again.

He’s often as busy as Price, sometimes more so. It takes a lot to run a charter as is, but to establish a table so far from home calls on him more than any other era in his time with the club. On top of that, he often pulls double duty, acting as an enforcer with Konig.

That’s where he really appreciates you understanding, and accepting, his lifestyle. You’ve made a home for him, and he only hopes he conveys how much he appreciates that.

—

He comes home with a headache taking up residence in every corner of his head more and more these days. It was all he could do to kick his boots off, and not collapse on the nearest thing that could hold his weight. His room felt miles away. Downside of living in the dorms.

He drug himself to the clubhouse kitchen, prepared to dig around for some painkillers, when he saw a post-it note on the island next to a napkin with two pills.

Ignore if not Si!

Dinner in the fridge + cake in the dish on the counter. Eat and get your ass in bed with me.

He chuckled, headache long forgotten when he realized you were in his bed. However, his heart and stomach wouldn’t let him ignore the home cooked meal in the fridge, and once he’d savored every bite, he was a blur on his way to his room.

You were curled up in one of his shirts, sleeping soundly on the side of the bed he favored. He stripped, leaving his clothes on the floor, only stopping to deposit his kutte on the dresser, before scooping you into his arms.

“Si..” you murmured sleepily, burying your face in his chest, seeking something to lay on after being picked up.

“‘s alright sweet pea.”

“Glad you’re home, don’t let go.” You were slightly more awake now, but not by much.

“Was never an option.” He got into bed, relaxing in the warm spot you left behind, and situated you next to him in his arms.

Assuming big spoon position, his hands roamed your form, finding momentary purchase wherever they could. He felt a little guilty for further waking you up, but it occurred to him that you must have seen the day he’d had, and had taken the time to attempt to make it a little better. You could be home in your own bed, but you chose to be there for him. He was starving for you.

His lips created the same desperate patterns across your cheek and neck that his hands created on your body. He gripped your thigh, giving the plush skin a squeeze, before hooking your leg back over his.

There was a sharp inhale of air from you, and you pushed back against him, undoubtedly feeling him firming.

He laid his other arm under your head, letting you lay your cheek against his arm as he grasped your face. He tilted it up to grant more access to your skin for his lips.

“Taking care of me pretty bird?”

“It’s what you deserve, baby.” You slurred, squirming in sensory overload at all of his attention.

“Swear m’ going flat hunting tomorrow.” His fingers skimmed over your covered heat, grinning when your lower half bucked.

“‘s what you deserve sweetheart. Somewhere to put all your nesting to good use.”

You moaned rolling your hips back into your solid wall of a man. “Don’t tease me, I can’t help it.”

“Oh, m’not teasing pretty bird, m’ appreciating.”

He’s been called on to do many dark things for the club. Price doesn’t leave room at the table for anyone not to pull their weight, and he’s even tougher on his titled men. However, the darker jobs fall on Simon more often than anyone else, because he’s thorough, and can put the deed away somewhere, somehow, every time.

When he pulls on his mask, and just surrenders to being no one but Ghost, he’s ready to work. He never cared what anyone thought about his actions, he never had to, until you.

You’d been around rough crowds in your lifetime, but Simon was a career criminal, and so was his found family. He was sure some recollection of his deeds would reach you, and that’d be your line. In fact, he was waiting on it.

He was shocked, truly floored, to find that wasn’t what triggered you. It was how you felt he was being utilized. You didn’t like, what you felt, was the unequal distribution of the extreme jobs, and you told him as much.

When he got over his shock, his reaction was fiercely defensive of the club. It was your turn for shock, but he couldn’t help it. He felt judged about the family that owned his loyalty, by the woman that owned his heart.

You were taken aback by his ferocity, but it didn’t change your view. It created a hotbed of tension that threatened what the two of you had built, until he understood why you felt so strongly. Simon was the one taken aback when he realized your intensity came from your love for him, not a judgement of the 141. He still couldn’t wrap his head around someone loving him to that degree. In his heart of hearts, he didn’t think he was worthy of that. That’s how he was supposed to, and did, love you.

He admitted as much when the tired topic reached a fever pitch.

Simon’s close cropped blonde hair was riddled with evidence he’d been running long, frustrated fingers through it. Those same fingers pulled a cigarette from his pack,, and lit it with a calmness that didn’t reflect the current mood.

“So now you tell me what I can and can’t do? That it then?”

You snapped at the accusation, breaking the promise you’d made to yourself not to raise your voice. “I’m not telling you what you can and can’t do, stop reframing what I fucking say!”

“Grow the fuck up, you’re not a bloody baby. You knew what I did when we got together. I protect the group, I’m meant to be the first line of defense. I pull my weight, my life be damned!”

Your eyes widened in shock at the underlying implication of his words. His own expression wasn’t familiar enough to you for you to place.

“The table doesn’t make me do the ugly bits, most times I volunteer.” He flicked ash onto the pavement, his finger tapping with more force than necessary. “Whether I die, or get pinched, I can be replaced. ‘s my job to stand in front of the ones that can’t.”

His chest heaved with trapped frustration, voice guttural, raw with emotion. “That’s my use.”

You couldn’t place a time where your heart had ever hurt for anyone the way it hurt for him in that moment. It was a physical pain, pin pricking across your chest in a wave, and momentarily halting your ability to speak. You loved this man, fuck the moon, he hung galaxies in your eyes, and that’s what he thought of himself?

Simon, studying your expression and not liking the shame it made him feel, turned away. He didn’t know what to do with shame, especially in front of you. He’d said too much, and his mind was racing to find a way to undo it. Stiffening at the feeling of your arms barely meeting around his large form, he fought the urge to pull away.

Your voice was shaky, laden with the tears you didn’t bother fighting the fruitless fight to stop. “I wish I could get you to understand how untrue that is. I wish I knew where to start.”

He turned back around, but refused to meet your eyes. That startled you. Simon had never been afraid to lock eyes with you. He backed down from no one.

“Wasn’t an answer you liked then lovie? Sorry to disappoint.” He said quietly, taking a last drag before he ended the cigarette under his boot, and walked off back towards the clubhouse.

Tears streamed down your face at a faster rate now, and you tried in vain to swipe them away quickly. You weren’t sure what to say. Not then, too much was in the air as it was, and things needed to cool, but this clearly wasn’t settled

You only knew what you wanted to do. Hold him. Hold him until he saw how fucked his outlook was, and how much worth he really had.

Long out of town rides to create a bubble with just you and him. No specific destination, you just ride until you can both believe you’re the only two people you know.

He throws you a surprise party when you get certified as a tattoo artist, and Mrs. Price releases you from your apprenticeship to a chair of your own.

No one can believe Ghost is throwing someone any kind of party, but they don’t dare deny him as he enlists them in different tasks. He took the whole thing very seriously, and left no room for mistakes. No one, not even Soap, was careless enough to spoil the surprise. Simon wanted perfection.

It was obvious to anyone who watched his love struck gaze follow you when you were around, but if anyone doubted it before, they didn’t now. This man loves you.

Simon sometimes comes to you with a design he’s made for his next tattoo. It’s never elaborate, and it’s usually more utilitarian than aesthetic. He trusts you to make it pretty, he knows you will. He just wants to better convey his idea, or so you think.

In reality, he just likes when you praise him, and he can be part of your passion. He’s constantly amazed by your artistry, and humbled that you let him be a part of it. Essentially, you two collaborate on his tattoos in an undeniably intimate way.

He unceremoniously comes to you with a scrap of paper, something he’s sketched over the past few days.

“Somethin’ f’ya to look over when you get the chance.” He mutters before giving you a long kiss and leaving the shop.

You study the lines, shaky but serviceable, and the design clear. Your mind immediately began to think of ways to tie it into his existing tattoo’s style and his tastes. All the while, you kicked your feet, ecstatic that once again, the most complex person you knew was trusting you with this responsibility.

Si had some serious, high quality pieces on his body, and he thought enough of your hand to add to that.

Simon is usually more affectionate when you’re alone. In public, it’s mostly gliding fingers across your back, or a quick brush of his lips across your forehead. BUT, sometimes his intrusive thoughts win, and he has to slap your ass. This can happen anywhere, anytime.

You’re bent over the tattoo chair, disinfecting and scrubbing, and you swear you hear his hand cutting through air before you feel the smack.

“Si!”

“You put it there sweetheart.”

Shooting range dates. You’ve been judged by some of your more…conventional friends, but you’re a gun girlie (which turns Simon on like nothing he’s ever experienced), and you don’t care. They tried to make you feel like he was being inconsiderate taking you there. Meanwhile, it was damn near your demand.

Simon loves having friendly competitions, random kisses, and exchanging shitty jokes. Seeing you get excited, and engaging in a little tech/spec talk about a gun you love, gets Simon bricked up in 10 seconds flat.

You truly believe he’s taken you in hidden parts of the range more than either of your beds at this point.

Makes you keep track of football season when he’s away. Almost put you in a box and mailed you far away from him when you assumed he meant American football season.

“Don’t ever hurt me like that again lovie, I won’t be held responsible.”

Punishes you with edging and cockwarming if you miss any important details. It’s especially excruciating when he’s just returned, and all you want is him to stretch you out. Simon is a mean dom, and he won’t be moved by sympathy.

“Please Si, I only missed one game.” you whined, trying to get him to come back to where he’d just spent time building you up to fall on his tongue, only to pull away at the last second.

He smirked, rising to his feet which clued you into the fact that he really wasn’t going to finish you off then. “That’s a bad girl. Have the missing orgasm to match.”

——-

Gaz:

Lives for where you live. Your little house is his home away from home. Sometimes the gang can be on business that keeps them on the road for weeks, and the last thing he wants when he comes back, is to continue to be locked in close quarters with other guys.

That’s when you know he’s skipping clubhouse life to crash with you for a while. You love it as much as him.

Scented candles and incense, sweet laundry detergent, soft materials, home cooked meals. It’s such a soft juxtaposition to his previous journey.

Your hands are all over him, soothing bruises and kissing him over in mapped out patterns only known to you.

Kyle may not know the difference between a single thing on your beauty table, or much about the things in your bathroom cabinets, but he knows he loves how it all smells/looks on you when he’s running his nose across your skin.

“Baby, I gotta get ready for work.”

Kyle hummed in acknowledgement, but kept you pinned to the overstuffed couch, kissing your thighs in his own personal ritual. The two of you had been sequestered away for two days since he’d been back, but he still couldn’t get enough of you.

“Be good for me love, I won’t make you late.”

“Liar.” You giggled when he pinched you in retaliation. “If you do what it feels like you’re about to do, I won’t make it to the shop until noon.”

“Not a liar babe, you know that better than anyone else.” He pushed your knees up until they pressed against your chest. “I promise, you’ll be the first one there. Can’t say in what state though.”

Being the club secretary, it may seem like Kyle has the plushier job at the table. Wrong. He sees as much action as the other guys, and he likes to stay in shape. That’s fine by you, because you reap the benefits when you get to watch him working out at your place.

Kyle Garrick doing burpees and up-downs in your tiny backyard, clad in nothing but gray sweat shorts, and a thin gold chain against his chest, isn’t a sight that should be free. Yet, after Kyle has finished his mission of witnessing you walk funny at least once, it’s a sight you’re treated to when he sinks back into his home routine.

You somehow think you’re safe to creep-watch from the back doorway while you enjoy your green tea, even though Kyle catches you every time. He just always knew when your eyes were on him.

Without even turning to give you a look he called your name, laughing softly. “I should start charging admission.”

“I was thinking the same thing!” You stuck your tongue out at his back, slamming the door when he revealed he somehow saw that too.

Kyle comes to the salon and hangs with you between appointments. Sometimes he watches you work, and fake flirts with customers to get you more money. He’s great for business.

“Cost a little extra, yeah? But myself, I love a bird that sweats the details.” Kyle’s brown eyes and bright smile were a lethal combination against free will, you knew this for a fact.

The soccer mom in your chair ducks her head under his attention, cheeks filling in with red, as she tells you she changed her mind about the rhinestones.

You appreciate the efforts towards fattening your wallet, but sometimes he’s so effective, you get annoyed and drag him to the break room to remind him you own him.

When you ride with him, he loves looking down and seeing the pretty designs of your nails grasping his chest. Something about the contrast of hot pink, or pearlescent purple against the black leather of his kutte does it for him.

Kyle is definitely on the calmer side most times, especially for his lifestyle, but the fastest way to break that is someone meaning you harm.

You were out at a crowded club with the 141, their ladies, and some friends of the club. It was a celebration of good finances and a successful legal dodge.

The guys clung to a dark VIP section, there for the drinks and victory lap more than the dancing. On the other hand, you and the other girls were not there to sit idle.

After a tense few months, the cause of your respective relationship ups and downs with the guys, you guys deserved to cut loose. The table agreed, with your men shouting words of encouragement and flirtatious innuendo to hype you up.

The whole bar was enthralled by you and the other girl’s dancing, singing, and general untethered energy. It was contagious. You especially, you had a few drinks in you, and all that could currently keep your attention was the music.

There was, unfortunately, one outsider who got a little too enthralled with the performance.

When you peeled away from the group, following the uptempo rhythm, he thought that was his time to make his move.

You felt him press up against you while your eyes were closed, assuming it was Kyle, you almost ground back against him. Then you smelt the liquor. Kyle liked a drink like everyone else, and you’d even seen him drunk, but this was someone who’d been at it for a while. Disgustingly sour, too close, and ultimately not your man.

You sent a sharp hit back with your elbow, turning to confirm what you knew. It wasn’t Kyle. He grunted, but pushed forward again making you hold your hand up in a warning.

“I don’t think so.” you waved him off, laughing at the prospect of entertaining him.

Angered by your laughter, he got bolder, shouting to be heard. “Well I think so, but I’m real interested in knowing why you don’t.”

“Because I said what I said, and I have a man.” You were tipsy, but there was an underlying fire to your words lending them solidity. “Fuck off!”

He bristled at another dismissal. “Bitc-“

Kyle had appeared, most likely having started making his way to you once the man got too close, and clapped him on the shoulder. His expression said that he had heard at least some of what was said.

“Hi baby!” You shouted, a little loud even for the club, but that made it endearing. “That’s my man.” You told the asshole.

“Use your ears before I send you home carrying them.” He was gripping the man’s shoulder so tightly you should see the sharp knuckle bones flexing, his rings catching the light.

The man looked at the kutte, and the expression on Kyle’s face, and the exact moment he realized the man would act on the threat literally became apparent.

If that wasn’t enough, you had the ladies at your back, and the table alert and waiting for the call. It was over for the bastard before it even started.

He raised his hands and scurried into the crowd, aiming for the door.

“I love you baby.” You crooned, throwing your arms around him and covering his face with kisses.

He laughed. “I love you too, even when I know I’m going to be holding your pretty hair back all day.”

When the gang has to have a tense table vote in a briefing, their equivalent to some other mc’s “church”, you always wait for Kyle. As secretary, it’s his job to gather information on other gangs, as well as any important changes in the area, and his council is called on first.

You’re waiting for him right after, inviting him back to your house for the night, knowing he won’t want to stay in his dorm. He won’t show it then, but he’s disappointed, and when you get him home, you let him vent to his mind’s content.

All the while, you’re drawing him a bath, doing a light skin routine on his face, greasing his scalp, and curling up on the couch with his back against your chest.

You know his brothers have his best interest at heart, and respect his role in the club, but sometimes he can get in his head about it, and that’s when you step in.

——-

Soap:

Johnny kept his lifestyle a secret from you at first. You’d only been hooking up for a couple of weeks before you both confessed to wanting more.

The crew had mocked him relentlessly about his inability to keep a relationship casual.

“Give it up mate, you ain’t even foolin’ yourself!” Gaz had clapped him on the back, laughing right in his face. “You start up with a girl right, and it’s over. You’re looking for a house by sunup.”

“Och, piss off with ya! I can keep it casual!” Indignant, and maybe a little drunk, he elbowed the man on the other side of him. “Tell em’ Ghost.”

Simon glanced at him sideways, bourbon halfway to his lips, careful it didn’t spill due to the prodding. “Johnny, some pretty bird starts chirpin’ in your ear and it’s curtains. Now fuck off.”

He couldn’t believe his friends, no — brothers, had such little faith in him.

Cut to a few days later, with him balls deep in you, confessing he wanted more.

“I’ll be good to ya bon, I swear it. I’m all for ya, just be for me?”

The only thing that lessened the embarrassment of proving his friends right, was that you seemed relieved, and admitted it was what you wanted too.

He couldn’t help it. Ever since he’d been patched in, besides the camaraderie, he was enamored with the relationship between Price and his old lady. There were plenty of solid old lady/old man pairings around him, but something about the way the club queen cared for her man, kept the other girls in order, and still maintained a life for herself was astounding to watch.

He couldn’t help chasing that in every girl he’d gotten with since he’d joined up. So many girls wanted the mystique of a sexy biker, but that’s all he was for them. Either a living dildo, or an attraction they could make their friends jealous with. Things never got very far outside of the bedroom. Except once, but that didn’t go over so well in the end.

He wanted that ride or die bond so badly, he couldn’t wait to have the perfect old lady to wife up and fill a house with brats.

With you, he prayed he was it for you, because you had quickly become it for him.

You were a good girl. Specifically, his good girl now. He felt it was highly unlikely you would go for his lifestyle, and so he kept it under wraps at first. He knew he had to tell you at some point, but he wanted to soak up as much time as he could in case you checked out.

“Nah sweetheart, it’s nah like that. We get a little rough, but mainly, we just appreciate bikes.”

“Do ya think I have what it takes to be in a criminal organization? And with ya not knowin’ no less!?”

“Let’s talk about something else bon, did ya ken your thighs look cute warming my ears?”

Guilt eating through him like acid, especially when the club picks up on the fact that he hasn’t brought you around. Anytime Soap has a girl in his bed more than once, he’s parading around the club with her in no time. They know there’s something special about you, and that baffles them even more. Soap claims it’s because you live one town over, which you do, but Gaz calls him on his shit.

He’s hyper defensive, and fights until he’s blue in the face before he admits it’s true. He’s afraid you’ll turn out like the others, or reject him all together. He’s so far gone at this point, he’d rather you use him than leave him.

Price doesn’t like it, and councils him against lying to you any further for numerous reasons. Soap promises he’ll tell you soon, but he’s trying to convince himself as well as his president.

Eventually he couldn’t hide it anymore, but it wasn’t exactly his choice when the curtain got pulled back.

The two of you had been to a late movie, Johnny finally having had time to squeeze in a date with you after a series of back-to-back runs. You’d suggested coming to him for once to take the burden off. Before he could object, you’d admitted that you were already in town, and he’d rushed to meet you.

Though he was nervous about you hearing something, or seeing someone off-color that he knew, he couldn’t deny he loved the day he spent with you.

He never needed a reason to want to kiss you, but something about your soft smile under the parking lot lights compelled him right then. Maybe because your expression said just how content you were to be with him, and he buried that in his heart.

“Wait a minute.” He stopped you, lips on yours before you could ask why.

Parking lots didn’t exactly get safer as they got darker, and emptier, but he couldn’t stop once his lips touched yours. Then you started tugging on the curly hair of his Mohawk like you did when you’d really gotten into things.

He was just about to suggest he stay over at your place, when you were interrupted by a cop. You assumed he was going to warn you about loitering and apologized, but he and Johnny knew that wasn’t what it was about. He called Johnny “Soap”, and you were confused as to how they knew each other.

“Oh, Scotboy here goes back with the law a long ways back home.” The cop tried to clap Johnny on the shoulder only for him to violently dodge it. “Easy. I’m not booking you on anything…tonight.”

You were at a loss for what the cop thought he could book Johnny on, and called it out as harassment. Johnny knew, by the sick expression on his face, that the cop was eager to spill it all once he realized how little you knew about the man you were clutching. He tried to prevent that from happening.

“Yeah well, you’re just wastin’ time then, and we have a drive.” Johnny’s arm tightened around your shoulder as he started to lead you away.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know what he’s told you, but if you were my daughter I’d want you to know. That’s a dangerous man you’re on the arm of.”

“Shut up.” Johnny growled, and he knew you had to be thinking about how you’d never seen him like this, but he’d also never been this angry around you.

“Johnny…” you pushed at him to try and get him to move, but he was rooted in rage.

He knew where the cop was taking it.

“This was when you were a prospect back in England right? The number you did on the guys from that other charter…interpol still talks about it. Oh wait…they never proved it was you did they?”

Johnny thumbed his nose and sniffed, jutting out his chin in utter opposition of the man in front of him. “Nah, wasnae even in the country at the time.”

“That’s right. You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve only read the reports our precinct got when you boys moved to town.” The obnoxious officer bounced his palm off his forehead in a mock gesture.

Johnny felt you squeeze his arm, grounding him for the moment, and he thought you might be saying something. His ears sounded like the Grand Rapids ran through them. A hot rage was settling into his chest, and spilling into other parts of his being.

The smug expression of the cop, one of the ones on the force who’d made things personal with the club was

“Johnny!” You shook him, finally getting through to him. “I want to leave.”

He exhaled, softening at your expression. Little tremors of adrenaline wracked through him, but he still led you towards his bike by a firm grip.

“You know, they included pictures in those files they sent over. What you did to those guys..” The cop whistled from behind you.

Johnny helped you into your helmet, watching as your eyes raced with questions, but you were so good for him. You would wait to ask him.

He brushed his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks. “Ignore him bon. Whatever he says, please.”

“But, the real shame is what happened to Anna.” The cop continued.

In a straight shot, Johnny launched himself at him. “Shut your fuckin’ mouth!”

“They cut her up pretty bad. Was her nose always on the side of her-”

—

He knew it was bait, and he admitted as much later, but he’d taken the active grenade in his hand all the same. The wounds that piece of shit poked were too raw not to, on top of probably killing everything between you and him.

Everything was designed to hit a critical point in him. His past deeds, Anna, and most importantly, you.

All he could think about was if he was going to lose you after tonight, there was no way he wasn’t going to make it count all over the bastard’s face.

The local police had been looking for something, anything, to get the club on, but they’d been too careful. That’s what Price had told you on the way to the precinct. Johnny had dialed for you while the cop was getting back to his feet.

“Was any of what he said true?” You were clutching your purse the way you had since you’d gotten into the car with Price and the club’s lawyer.

“I don’t know what you mean love?” Price looked at you cooly, not giving anything away, though you were sure he knew what you meant.

“Never mind.” You shook your head. “I know it’s true. Did Johnny really hurt those guys? Who’s Anna?”

Price kept his eyes on the road, while the lawyer kept his attention on his phone. The air couldn’t have been more tense,

“You should talk to your boy sweetheart. Don’t let some future desk-riding prick make you doubt the man who’d rip out his own heart just to show you it’s yours.”

You swallowed, hard, and didn’t say anything else until you got to the station.

“Um…I think I’m just going to Uber home. Tell Johnny I’ll call him.”

Price nodded, but his look was disapproving. “‘m sorry to hear that,” he adjusted his dark beanie. “But if that’s what you think is best.”

You did not call him. Not later when you were sure he had been released, and not the next day. You wouldn’t even open the never-ending text thread between you two.

He texted you early enough to be apologetic about it, and you had to push your phone to the far side of your bed to stop yourself from responding.

You went about your daily routine, getting ready for your shift at the diner. Your one room apartment didn’t allow you the luxury of pretending your phone wasn’t blowing up with text messages, but you were too afraid you’d cave if you saw the screen while attempting to silence it.

He showed up at the diner, and you pretended to be too busy in the back until he left.

He waited outside of your place, but you wouldn’t come down, going so far as to turn off the lights when you realized he was there.

No call was answered, no text replied to.

Johnny was a wreck. So much so, that as furious as Price and Ghost had been, as much as they’d come down on him, they weren’t sure he’d even heard it. They saw his regret, he did have his brothers and their families in mind, along with the fact that he was a higher ranked member who set a piss poor example for prospects and basic members.

The fact that his stunt could’ve cost them their freedom. He saw all of that.

But he was HURTING. Physically, mentally, emotionally. It was all Johnny could do to roll out of bed and do the basics before he crawled back again.

All the club girls dropped by his dorm. Some to be flirtatious, which he lashed out at, some to show sympathy.

Mrs. Price and Ghost’s girl were especially gentle. It’s the darkest period in Johnny’s life, even when factoring in the Anna situation. It’s clear to all around him, you’re it for him. His soul is yours, and he’s dying without you.

It was Simon who came to you and changed your mind. He couldn't take seeing Johnny that way. The whole table was worried, but Johnny was a little brother to the taciturn specter. He’d only see him like this once before, and this was ten times worse.

In the early afternoon, the diner’s customers were nothing but truckers and elderly folks. So when the 6’4 blond with trunk-thick arms, and a permanent scowl walked in, there was no ignoring him. You noticed the kutte, and thought about making a break for the back, but his look said ‘try it’, and you thought better of it.

Instead, you wound up in a back booth with him, taking your 15 minute break.

“‘m not the preachin’ sort, so I’ll get on with it.” He stared right through you, lighting a cigarette. “‘s no business of mine what you and Johnny decide to do, but you need to talk to him.”

You started to tell him no smoking, but didn’t feel like exerting the effort. Let your boss deal with it if it mattered.

Your hands trembled, so you put them beneath the table in your lap. “If it’s none of your business, then why are you here?”

”Because, it’s destroying him. You’re destroying him.” He turned for a moment to exhale away from your face, and then his gaze was cutting right back to you. “Lad’s a mess and a half without you. We’ve tried to sort him out, but it’s gonna take you.”

”He lied to me!“ the exclamation left your mouth without a thought to volume control, and you pointedly ignored the stares you knew were at your back.

”You knew.” he said simply. “You may not have known the specifics, and we told him not to do it that way, but you knew.”

Your mouth opened and closed repeatedly, trying to express the million thoughts in your head.

”You may be a town over, but our name gets around. I know you’ve heard somethin’.” He tipped the ash in the glass of water you’d gotten him. “You’re a smart bird by Johnny’s account.”

“If you told him not to lie, then why are you telling me not to be upset?”

“‘m not, ‘m tellin’ you to hear him out. Put him out of his misery, whatever you decide.”

The man left the booth, standing back to his full height and casting a shadow over the booth.

“He’s a right fuckin’ mess. Loves you more than life.”

“More than Anna?” The name that had been swirling around in your mind came out in a semi-bitter question.

There was something that could have possibly been a flinch, but you weren’t sure. It made you regret mentioning it either way.

He stubbed out the cigarette. “He’ll be round yours by the time you get off.”

He was. Looking completely unconfident and nervous about being there. His eyes were bloodshot, and his beloved mohawk showed signs of too many anxious tugs.

This wasn’t what you were used to with the confident man, and you didn’t like it. You understood, you looked the same way, but you didn’t like it.

He was apologizing constantly, between spilling streams of exposition that only served to confuse you, instead of clearing things up. You finally had to tell him it would just be easier if you could ask questions instead, and he sat back and became an open book.

It went all evening, and then well into the morning. Every question led into lengthy conversation.

—

“Who’s Anna?”

“...A good lass who didn’t deserve what she got.”

—

“So it’s definitely more than just appreciating bikes. Why?”

“They’re my family, and they’ve always had my back while lettin’ me be myself. If I have to do somethin’ a lil dodgy now and then, that’s a small price to pay.”

—

“I don’t doubt you love me Johnny, you make it impossible to, but how can I trust you after this?”

“By takin’ the chance to believe me when I say I’d rather die than go through this again. If honesty brings you back to me, I’ll never leave it out again.”

The sun is rising by the time the two of you are talked out. You make him stay, seeing that his sleep deprivation was starting to collect its due. It was you who didn’t sleep while you pet his hair from where he laid on your lap, and thought over your feelings.

He wakes when you inform him he has a phone call. He tells you to answer it, and you realize it’s a gesture towards the honest leaf turn.

He took the time to honesty dump with you, so you admit to him that while you’re still hurt, your mind's made up about taking him back.

It should have frightened you how quickly you sank back into things with Johnny, but what actually frightened you was the reason why. You realized you were just as addicted to him as he was to you. How had you lasted the past couple of weeks?

It’s a mutual obsession, only strengthened by a period of absence. Something he vowed would never happen again.

You let him give you your first tattoo, and you even let him pick the design. He couldn’t believe you trusted him with the honor, and he wound up asking if you were sure five times.

“Baby, yes!” you laughed, squeezing his cheeks as a form of cute aggression over his heart eyes.

This was such an intimate act for him, that he made sure you were completely alone in his dorm room when the day came. The room is spotless for once, sanitized to government standards. You can’t help but notice that he’s lit candles in your favorite scent, and his playlist is all soft music for once.

He spent weeks sketching the perfect concept, and even created variations for your choosing. He went through soooo many pages, unwilling to settle when it came to his girl.

In the end, it was decided, and he got to work on the inner wrist tattoo. All the while, he was checking in with you to make sure you were good.

“It’s just a small piece baby, I’m ok.” You always pressed a kiss to his nose to reassure him and get him back to work.

He looked so handsome, locked in concentration, that it almost completely distracted from the pain. You’d seen him work before, and you loved it, but this wasn’t just work right now. He was giving you something important, and you sensed that.

When he finally finished, he sheepishly, almost fearfully, asked you what you thought.

“It’s everything Johnny. When everyone asks who’s the talent behind it, I can’t wait to say he’s my man.”

Soap has no regard for anyone or any place when he wants you, which is all the time. You’re all over the clubhouse together. The couches, the hallways, the armory. Officially, clubhouse outer-walls are your spots during cookouts.

Gaz walked into the storage room, focused on finding a part for a customer. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed you through the empty space on a tall shelf.

“Hi, eh, Kyle!” All that was visible was your face, and he wondered for a second why you were out of breath.

“Hey (Y/N), what’re you doing back here?” He gave you a side glance and smile, his attention mainly on the organized shelves.

“I’m..” you bit your lip, unable to form another word as your eyes rolled back.

Kyle froze, realizing what was happening. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me mate?!”

“You walked in on us!” Johnny’s indignant cry came from below his line of vision.

Sooo many lunch break dates. Technically, Johnny is on shift at the garage, and should be preparing for the next day’s run, but his best girl needs him :( . You work so hard at that cafe, and they never appreciate you. Not like he does.

So when he takes the work pickup truck to get you, knowing Price has told him a million times it’s not for that, he can’t be bothered to care.

“Johnny, tell me you did not go across town to buy me this sandwich.” You already knew the answer, and you wanted to scold him for neglecting himself again. “You’re gonna be late getting back to the shop!”

“You love it though. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t take care of ya.”

“That’s not the point, you-“

“You’re so pretty baby.”

And you melt and forget to be upset.

You can’t stay mad at Johnny with heart eyes and loving, grabby hands. Especially when those grabby hands start to get a little more focused…

What happens in the work truck, stays in the work truck. Until he gets drunk and brags at a club party….

The fun times were well and good, but Soap knew that the day would come when you got a glimpse at the uglier parts of the life. He barely got you back, and you throwing up your hands and declaring it was all too much was all he could think about.

They’d been having issues with the Shadows MC, and it was starting to boil over. They didn’t like the 141 moving in on their territory, but his table had made it clear that wasn’t up to them. This resulted in many skirmishes he could keep under wraps, but then it came to a head.

They’d hit the Shadows hard at one of their core locations, and in preparation for retaliation, Price and Ghost had called a lockdown. This meant all old ladies, kids, and friends of the club were to hunker down at the club compound until they gave the ok.

The day was here, and he’d been dreading it. He couldn’t very well leave you out there, he hadn’t exactly been subtle that you were his girl, but surely you wouldn’t go for it.

Nothing had been asked of you so far, and he was trying his best to keep from burdening you like the typical old lady. He felt you’d be less likely to leave if he kept the weightier things from you.

He must have paced up and down your street in the dark for over an hour. His phone was blowing up with demands he ‘get his ass back to the compound’ with you, ‘NOW’, but he had to do it right. It wasn’t easy to say “We mowed down some of our enemies, and destroyed their operation, and some guys could make you pay for that.”

He could lose you tonight. He could relive his past.

When he finally did get up the nerve to tell you, he was shocked at how well you took it. He knew you were scared, and you couldn’t have been too happy either, but he loved you for your strength in that moment.

All you did was quietly pack, while his mouth ran a mile-a- minute. Swinging wildly between telling jokes, assuring you you’d fit in just fine with the other old ladies, and apologizing. You kept telling him you were fine, but your smile didn’t reach your eyes.

It took a week to beat the Shadows back. In that time Johnny had been in and out of safe houses, with barely a spare minute to check in with you. If he was being honest, he was terrified.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that when he got back to the compound, you wouldn’t be there. You’d be long gone, and when he went to your place, the things he’d left (so sneakily) would be in a box waiting on the doorstep.

He was so sure of this, that he wanted to go by your place first, but his bone-weary brothers were barely sitting upright on their bikes. Battered and bruised to hell, he couldn’t ask them to indulge his paranoia. The table didn’t like to be too far from each other until they were fully assured they were whole back home.

He was the last to walk through the door, to the shock of his brothers, but he didn’t want to tell them he was probably about to scream his throat raw when he saw you weren’t there.

He clenched and unclenched his aching fists in anxiety. ‘Just look around the room you daft fucker!’ He mentally scolded himself.

He didn’t get a chance to. You barreled into him, arms locking around his neck. He stumbled back, weariness and shock combining to make his footing unstable, but his back hit the solid metal door behind him.

“I was so fucking worried.” You whispered into his neck, and he felt his neck dampen with what he presumed were tears.

“I was too…” he admitted, finding it in him to grip you to his person with a desperate strength.

Relief flooded his body when you started pressing kisses all over his face, and all he could do was stand there. Receiving your love.

“Oh!” You tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let you. “Johnny put me down, the girls told me about how tired you guys are when something like this happens. You should be resting.”

“I’ll get to that bonnie, just keep kissing me like that.” He whispered, hands slipping into the back pocket of your jeans to keep you close.

You took over as soon as you got him back to his dorm room. You helped him undress, made sure he didn’t collapse in the shower, and even straightened his precious Mohawk while he struggled to pull on the sweats you’d grabbed him. All the while, awkward apologies from him. From you, excited recollections of all the things you’d learned from the strong women around you over the week.

Johnny supposed he had them to thank. In the back of his mind he’d been wondering what flipped the switch, and gifted him the kind of welcome home he used to envy the taken members of the club for getting. You were the best girlfriend he ever had, but an old lady was something else, yet here you were, excelling at that too.

And later, in his room after the hot shower, he collapsed face first on the bed. It took one, deep inhale of the fresh linen to know someone had done laundry. He exhaled with a hum, openly appreciating the clean scent.

“Yeah, you can thank me later.” You laughed, entering the room from his bathroom.

Johnny heard the sound of a lid pop, but was too far gone to look back and see what it was. Then you straddled his back, your soft hands kneading out a week’s worth of tension, self-inflicted and otherwise. He groaned, feeling the soothing lotion follow your hands over the peaks and valleys of his muscular frame.

“Addin’ this to my tab then?” He slurred, half in the dream realm, half with the love of his life.

“Yep, but I know you’re good for it.” You leaned down, nipping his ear, and making him mewl in frustration as he hardened against the mattress, knowing there’d be nothing he could do about it at the moment.

He used the last of what he had to flip you over, mentally cataloging the adorable squeak you let out. Cupping your cheeks, he shared a soft look with you for just a moment, before he sealed his lips over yours. All he could do was hope you could feel everything he wanted to say behind the movement of his lips.

Judging by your soft sighs, he guessed you could.

He pulled away, settling half on you, half off. “I’m settlin’ my debts soon as I’m up hen. Bet on it.”

He makes Ghost promise to take care of you if something ever happens to him.

“Johnny, shut fuck up,” Ghost glared at him, faint facial scars following his frown. “You’ll outlive us all.”

Johnny stared at him from across the meeting table, more serious than a personification of the sun had any right to be. They were the only two in the briefing room, for some reason the place felt sacred enough to Soap for such a request.

“‘m serious VP, that’s ma heart, I love her.” His accent thickened with emotion, and he sipped his bar as if to wash it back.

His fingers flexed around the sweating glass. “‘m gonna marry her.”

“Lads and I knew that the first time you talked about her.”

Soap smiled at that, but his expression quickly returned to its serious state. “Sweet girl and me have been talkin’ about kids, preferably after.”

A fond quiet bloomed between them at that admission. The two of you had told no one else, and Johnny felt guilty violating your pillow talk confessionals, but he hoped it would get Ghost to agree.

“Want that more than anythin’ VP, but I can’t pull the trigger until I know they’ll be looked after.”

“The club-“

“Not just the club!” He ran a hand through his mohawk in frustration.

Why couldn’t the stubborn fucking giant just agree?

“I know the club will look after them in general. I know I can trust our table, hope I can trust the other charters.” He sighed, refocusing. “You’re my best friend Simon. I just have to know my girl, and my bairn, would always have you at their back. If I died.”

“Wouldn’t happen. I’d lay my life down so you could make it back-“

Johnny shook his head, choosing not to repeat himself. Instead, he gave his friend a pleading look.

He could see a storm of thoughts and emotions competing for dominance in his friend’s mind. His expression didn’t change much, but it was in his eyes if you knew him.

He saw why Simon was resisting, he didn’t feel worthy of being looked to in that way.

Finally, Ghost responded after grinding his cigarette out in the dish on the table. “Promise the same f’me then. I’ve fucked her life up enough, shouldn’t still be doin’ it when I’m gone.”

“On my honor.” Soap didn’t even have to think, it was an instinct.

“Then tell your missus you’re ready. I’ll cover my end.”

———

Price:

Head honcho. Chief. The Boss. Captain of the ship. It’s all the same no matter who calls him what, President Price is in charge.

He founded the club after leaving his original due to lack of loyalty, and thoughtless endeavors. He works overtime to make sure his club doesn’t fall in the same way. His code of ethics may not make a lick of sense to anyone outside of the outlaw life, but they’ve garnered the respect and admiration of some of the toughest men around the globe.

They’d follow him through hell because they know he’d be the first one in.

When they’re on a run, selling guns or attending a meeting in neutral territory, John’s mind is all business until business is done. Then it’s all you. He loves hearing his guys talk about how they’re going to spend their new check, or swapping stories about their old ladies. Sometimes, he even joins in.

But what he really wants to do is celebrate with you. Most times you’re already up at the compound. Seeing to the legitimate businesses, taking care of the girls, helping the member’s families, etc.

He respects what you do, what you’re capable of, beyond borders. However, he can’t help but be jealous. You always come to him first, tight hug and a long soft kiss, but then you’re quickly looking over his guys. The men revel in it, almost becoming kittens under your motherly ministrations. Especially Soap and Gaz, who you’re in the same age group as, but you scold all the same.

When the last man has been sent on his way, he’s dragging you away to the little bedroom off his office. He knows you find it amusing, to see his selfishness win out over any tiredness he’s feeling.

Before the door can even close, he’s pulling you close and kissing you his favorite way. A kiss he didn’t know he was capable of until you became his wife. Anytime he was gone too long, you did something that knocked him off his feet, or your affection wasn’t directed solely at him, he kissed you that way.

He cradled your head, holding you steady when he pressed his lips to yours. He left no room for there to be room between the two of you. Rough thumbs slid under your chin, tilting your head up slightly before he slid his tongue between your lips. He knew he had to release you soon, let you remember how to breathe, but it was hard to fight the hunger.

“Nothing flatters me like my big biker husband being unable to share me for two seconds.” you teased, but your teasing came out in short puffs, as your lungs weren’t cooperating with you at the moment.

He could feel you swaying, going dizzy, and he brushed his beard over your ear to make you squirm before he said. “Jump love.”

You did, feeling his heavy hands grasp your thighs seconds later. He slid your legs over his hips, encouraging you to lock down around his waist.

“I’m just making sure you take care of what’s yours.” he thrust upward, hardness touching. “I promised it to you that first time.”

He laid you across the bed, staring down at you with a darkened smirk. “Take some responsibility for the state of your possessions.”

He’s the head of an organization that now exists in several countries. All that responsibility is tiring, even for a man so skilled at navigating it, and there’s been many a day when all he can do is lay his head down for the pain of the headaches.

You can’t count how many times you’ve come up to the club when he didn’t come home, only to find him furiously puffing a cigar and downing shots to dull the pain.

The guys had families to feed, there were good men behind bars for them that needed to be taken care of, he had tables back home that needed guidance, there were property expenses, legal retainer fees, and more. Much more.

That meant more risky non-legit work, which meant stretching the legitimate business to cover what that brought in. He had to know when it was time to expand, when it was time to halt, and when it was time to move to something else.

But he’s just a man, one man, and you’re there to remind him of that.

“John?” You had been expecting to find him in his office, but the moment you stepped into the club house, you saw him at the bar.

He wasn’t alone.

Phillip Graves, president of the Shadows MC finished off his drink and clapped John on the back.

“We’ll talk again.” He nodded his head towards you with a wink and a smile. “Ma’am.”

Your narrowed eyes followed him out of the door, remaining there until his motorcycle’s engine was a distant roar. At that point, you turned back to your husband.

He was gripping his forehead, lit cigar balanced on the heavy crystal ashtray next to him. The last remnants of whisky mingled with the melting ice in his glass, which he threw back before attempting a fake smile.

”Hello darling, you just close up shop?”

”Yeah, and I got home to find my husband wasn’t there. What the fuck John? You said you were going to work on this.”

You tossed your purse on the counter. “And Graves?! I can’t even-“

”(Y/N), don’t start.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I do not have that in me right now.”

Sighing, you placed one hand on his back, using the other to put out his cigar. He protested with a disapproving grunt, but was too tired to do more than that. Your face softened at that realization.

He pushed back from the bar a little, allowing you to slide onto his lap, legs splitting over his thighs. “I’m just worried. You can lead a table, you can lead the whole organization, but you can’t carry the whole thing on your back.”

You cupped his head like he often did to yours, and massaged the base of his skull. His eyes slid shut, body going lax, and he practically purred.

Leaning down, you scattered gentle kisses on his face, careful to leave no spot untouched, before going in for a whiskery kiss. It was here John took over, thanking you for the attention.

“You know that it’s not you I don’t trust right?” you asked between kisses. “It’s him.”

“I know, and you know I value your judgment.” He got underneath your shirt, hands rubbing your sides slowly.

There was a moment of domestic peace and quiet. You massaging his temple, and he massaging your sides. Though you trusted the capable man going soft under your hands, you hoped he wouldn’t regret whatever Graves was bringing to your door.

John doesn’t come to your shop often, but it’s not because he doesn’t support your career. It’s because he can’t watch you work for very long without wanting you biblically on every surface.

You love his open attraction to you, so it’s not exactly the easiest thing to ignore. No matter how much you try to stay focused on the job, the man is the love of your life, and he looks handcrafted by god.

Hunched over a client’s thigh, your brows were drawn in concentration on the elaborate Victorian cameo piece.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see John lounging in the plush desk chair he’d dragged over. A good distance to respect your client, but close enough, he could keep eyes on his favorite person.

Your client was amused, laughing through a wince, she nodded in John’s direction. “You’ve got a not-so-secret admirer.”

“I’ve been caught lovely, what to do now?”

”Ignore you.” You quipped before glancing up at your client. “He’s my husband.”

”Oh,” she hummed. “That explains the heart eyes.”

At that, you did have to look up, instantly wishing you hadn’t. It was a visual trap.

John, sitting there like the king he was, manspreading with no shame. Black beanie, tight jeans, dark sweater with his royal kutte draped over the sweater, and leather boots. You told him more than once he could model, to which he feigned offense.

“Focus on your work.” John admonished, but the smirk he said it though was pure sin.

Your eyes had strayed below the belt, and John was fully aware of this. Reveling in it really.

”Don’t you have a bike to fix? A prospect to bottle feed?”

”Nope,” his arms crossed behind his head, an action you saw out of the corner of your eye. “I belong to my missus this evening.”

Your client cooed, undoubtedly enjoying the banter between you and John. You did too, too much, and his bit about belonging to you made you have to pause and readjust yourself.

”Every evening really.”

”That’s nice John.” You hissed, lifting the gun from her skin to wave him off.

Your client laughed, trying hard to hold herself steady for you.

“Don’t encourage him.” you turned yourself at an angle slightly, trying and failing to ignore him.

“Well, it’s really far more than just evenings isn’t i-“

You lifted your foot from the pedal, and placed the tattoo gun on the tray next to you.

“Kitchen, now.” You gave your client a sheepish smile. “We were due for a break anyway hun. Can I get you anything?”

She was visibly entertained by you and John, after all, the two of you had become a legendary couple in these parts for a reason.

“I’m good, take your time.”

John winked at your client, strolling behind you into the back. You waited until he was in the kitchenette before sliding the door closed.

”You’re such an ass.” But your hands were already under his sweater, running up and down his chest.

You appreciated that he took up so much space in the little room, forcing the two of you together. You could blame the room’s dimensions for being all over him, and not your unwavering attraction to the man.

“I haven’t seen you in 15 hours, yes, I counted. I’m always counting when it comes to you. You can’t ask me to behave.”

Large hands slid into your hair, fingers interlocking to cradle your head. He didn’t even have to pull you in to kiss you, and he grinned, clearly also appreciating the size of the space.

“You think she’s a big enough fan to give us thirty?”

You actually have three rings. Your engagement ring, your wedding ring, and one of John’s rings that he gave you the first night you fucked.

In the quiet of the briefing room, somewhere you were surprised to be, you sat on his lap. The two of you soaked up the afterglow, the party raging outside fading to a dull noise outside of your own world. Coming down from your high, you let out a soft noise of surprise when John gripped your hair to kiss you with one hand. The other hand grasped your own, the one that had come to rest on his chest when you’d ridden him into his throne.

He slid the silver, braided band onto your ring finger, promising. “The first to come”

He loves to get in the ring and show off for you. Sometimes, there’s a loud mouth from a visiting club, or another table visiting, and John takes them to the ring they have in the back of the club’s compound.

Usually, it’s Konig’s or Simon’s domain, but it’s not because John doesn’t love dishing it out as much as them. That becomes apparent when he delivers careful, strategically brutal, blows to his opponent. Enough to win, and then a few more to humble.

You had long ago stopped lying to yourself about how much it turned you on. So when John emerged from the ring, panting, abs catching the compound’s lights on a sheen of sweat, you always dragged him off. Under the guise of cleaning him up of course ;).

John’s breeding kink goes wild when he sees you with a baby, or any kid really. He’s been around the club life long enough to see many couples welcome kids. One of the first outings the two of you made as an official thing was to the hospital to see the birth of a member’s baby.

His old lady bonded with you, and you were quickly given child holding privileges. It came so naturally to you, and John felt what he figured the two of you would get to eventually quickly build itself a home in his chest. New Kink unlocked: breed you on any surface he could find.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away, it was hypnotizing. His family around him saw it for what it was. Their president had this future scene, starring you and him, written all over him.

He thought the intensity of it was something he had to keep under wraps until he noticed you had the same feelings.

Baby showers, shopping for 141 babies, school drives and charities the club did for the local youth, seeing cute kids on social media. It didn’t matter, John caught on to the fact that you fucked him like a feral rabbit whenever you got that maternal glint in your eye. He didn’t call you on it until after you were married. The day when your shop receptionist went on maternity leave.

You’d been going on all through dinner, and then while doing the dishes, about how cute the kid would be, and you loved helping her with her nursery, and how she was already glowing. The more you ranted, the harder he got, until finally, he trapped you against the counter.

“I reckon it’d be easier to just say you want to be a mum.” he lifted one leg to his waist, and bucked against your clothed heat. “Say it.”

You stammered, eyes wide, pupils blown. “J-John..”

“Say it.” his voice somehow found a lower octave to sink to, choked with desire.

“What are you talking about?” you whined, embarrassed at being found out.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m hard as steel love, you feel that?” he grabbed your wrist, kissing the knuckles before quickly brushing them over his length.

“That’s how bad I want to make you a mum, can’t you just admit it too?”

Tilting your chin up, he placed tiny kisses under your chin, purposely dragging his beard across the soft skin after each kiss.

“C’mon then, tell your husband the truth so I can give us what we both want”

You whimpered, clutching the fabric of his t-shirt. “John..”

“Go on, invite me in.” he slipped his index finger in the top of your panties just enough to play with the elastic. Stretching it until it threatened to fly back against your skin before he eased it back in place.

You moved forward in an attempt to make his finger slip lower, and he laughed darkly, holding you in place. Shaking his head, he repeated his precious statement.

“Give me a baby John.” you huffed, frustration rising until all that you could do was spill the truth.

Gasping, you felt the cold tile of the counter beneath your thighs. You tried to process how he’d gotten you up there so fast, but your mind didn’t want to focus on anything other than your husband kneeling before you with the most determined look you’d ever seen.

As he slipped your panties and pajama shorts down your legs, he whispered how it’d be best if you prepared an excuse for work while you could still think straight.

319 notes · View notes

sooshihu · 10 months

Text

charles leclerc x reader x lando norris (just a small bit at the end) ~ instgram au

prompt: everyone's favourite swiftie wag gets betrayed by her two closest people

!!no hate to charles or alexandra ofc!!

warnings: cheating, swearing

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and 31,874 others

yourusername isn't it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?

thank you, A✨

tagged alexandrasaintmleux

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user1 THEY'RE SO PRETTY WTF

alexandrasaintmleux ❤️‍🩹🍷

liked by yourusername

user2 i love them both so much ahhh

user3 atleast now we know Charles doesn't starve

user4 fr what would he do without her😭

user5 y/n being a swiftie is everything to me

view all 86 comments

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 1,253,892 others

charles_leclerc enjoying the summer break to the fullest with my one and only❤️

tagged yourusername

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user6 THEY'RE SO CUTE I CAN'T-

user7 well deserved holiday💪

yourusername love you, lover🩷✨

charles_leclerc je t'aime plus❤️‍🩹

user7 THEIR INTERACTION IN THE COMMENTS HELPP THEY'RE ADORABLE

pierregasly hi y/n!!

yourusername hi pierre!!

carlossainz55 hi y/n!!

yourusername hi carlos!!

landonorris hi y/n!!

yourusername hi lando!!

user9 i want what they have

user10 already excited for the next gp!!!

user11 yesssss Charles feed us with the y/n content!!!!!!! 🤭

view all 1,253 comments

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc,pierregasly and 97,562 others

yourusername i was enchanted to meet you✨

tagged charles_leclerc

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user12 I LOVE THE FACT THAT Y/N'S A SWIFTIE

user13 y/n's my favorite wag because not only is she super nice to the fans and interacts with them every chance she gets but you can also see how much she truly loves him

charles_leclerc love you so much, gorgeous ❤️

yourusername love you more, lover 🩷✨

user14 OKAY BUT THE TAYLOR REFERENCES

user15 it's so cute to me that she calls him lover 😭

user16 me and who?

user17 you don't understand how much i NEED what they have

user18 fav couple on the grid i mean look at them

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yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and 43,683 others

yourusername the best people in life are free❤️

tagged charles_leclerc and alexandrasaintmleux

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user19 OMG THE TRIO WE NEVER KNEW WE NEEDED

user20 i'm so happy for y/n that charles and alex are getting along because i remember how hard it was for me when my bf and best friend weren't getting along

user21 yeah this happend to me too it was awful so i'm also happy she doesn't have to experience that

user22 she looks so happy😭🩷

user23 fr if something happens to her i'm gonna throw hands

alexandrasaintmleux thank you for the weekend, love 🥰

liked by yourusername

user24 you can see how much she loves them both in her smile

user25 charles if you ever hurt her you better lock your doors because we're coming for you

user26 charles and y/n are my absolute everything

alexandrasaintmleux

liked by yourusername and 2,396 others

alexandrasaintmleux 🌺

comments are limited

yourusername excited to meet your mystery man!!!!

liked by alexandrasaintmleux

wagsf1

liked by 3,096

wagsf1 rumours are that Charles Leclerc and his longtime girlfriend Y/n Y/l/n broke up after Charles was seen with Y/n's best friend Alexandra Saint Mleux. some people think Charles was with Alexandra during his relationship with Y/n.

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user27 charles fucking leclerc i'm coming for you.

user28 nooo they were the only reason i believed in love 😭😭😭

user29 poor y/n she got betrayed by her two favourite people. i can't imagine how hurt she must be.

user30 this is completely disgusting from both charles and alexandra

user31 they stabbed her in the back poor y/n

user32 so charles must be the guy who was in alexandra's newest post

user33 y/n was excited to meet alexandra's bf well probably not anymore

user34 guys i think it's true y/n unfollowed them both on all social media...tbh i don't blame her

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charles_leclerc

liked by alexandrasaintmleux and 567,497 others

charles_leclerc 🖤

tagged alexandrasaintmleux

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user35 it's not even a month from the break up...too soon bro

user36 at least he's happy? idk if i'm trying to convince myself or someone else

user37 i love how pierre liked every post with y/n but he didn't like this one😭

user38 i can't wait to see y/n's revenge era

user39 NAH FR REPUTATION ERA COMING SOON

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yourusername

liked by pierregasly, landonorris and 87,093 others

yourusername She's not a saint

and she's not what you think

she's an actress

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user40 MOTHER🛐

user41 pierre being team y/n is my fav thing😭

user42 AHH REVENGE ERA IS HERE

user43 MOTHER IS MOTHERING

liked by yourusername

user44 when i tell you that i almost choked on air when i saw this

user45 CHARLES PUNCHING THE AIR RN

user46 nah fr he lost THE Y/n Y/l/n i would be punching the air too

user47 if i was y/n i'd show up to the next race in another team's merch purely out of spite

user48 i just know charles is regretting every choice in his life from signing contract with ferrari to cheating on y/n y/l/n

liked by yourusername

user49 adopt me please.

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charles_leclerc

liked by scuderiaferrari and 548,239 others

charles_leclerc P15 today. not the result we hoped for but we'll keep pushing and next race will be diffrent.

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user50 cuz karma is her boyfriend, karma is a god✨

user51 i'm not even mad that ferrari failed him this time

user52 guys calm down y/n told us not to hate on charles and alex

scuderiaferrari 💪❤️

user53 taste of betrayal isn't good is it,Charles?

view all 367 comments

yourusername

liked by landonorris and 98,563 others

yourusername i'm doing better than i ever was🤍🌿✨

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user54 i'm so happy that she's finally happy🥹

user55 she deserves this

user56 HER SMILE😭 SHE'S FINALLY HAPPY AGAIN

landonorris photo credits? no?

liked by yourusername

yourusername my greatest apologies. everyone Lando Norris took these pictures📸

liked by landonorris

user57 lando?!? hello?!?

user58 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

user59 from ferrari to mclaren??

user60 i met her yesterday and even though i was wearing charles' merch she was so nice. i asked her for a picture and we even had a small conversation. she's one of the nicest people i've ever met.

user61 i don't understand how they could do something like that to such a nice person. the important thing now is that she's happy again.

user62 MOTHER🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

liked by yourusername

view all 341 comments

user63 she's so pretty i can't-😭😭😭😭

user64 she's healing🤍

#charles lecrelc #Spotify #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 #formula one #cl16 #cl16 x reader #lando norris #carlos sainz #pierre gasly #ferrari #scuderia ferrari

710 notes · View notes

yuri-is-online · 2 months

Note

Sorry for making you explain all the yutus but can you do Jades? Bros gotta be so overprotective 😬

Jokes on you I am always down to talk about Jade Leech (my beloved)

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. I think I typed up way more for this than anyone else up to this point, I'd apologize but it has been a second since I brain rotted about Jade, so excuse me for feeding myself (づ_ど)

Put yourself in Jade's shoes for a second. He is a merfolk from the coral sea, only able to appear human through the use of a potion but still retaining his inhuman features. He tries hard to appear human, he goes to a boot camp where so many things have to be explained that he is able to mimic but doesn't fully understand. There's no reason for you to like him, he knows that better than anyone; he doesn't fully understand why he's attracted to you himself but he is. And he longed after you for so long, he was drowning in his desire that had such a little chance of being reciprocated but by some miracle it was. You stay in Twisted Wonderland, you let him take you under the sea and agree to be kept there. You're going to give him a family, he's beyond excited and filled with feelings of love he didn't think he'd ever get to have.

And then it's gone. There's no evidence as to why, no one to tell him where you went. Azul starts off confident, excited at the prospect of revenge and encouraging Jade. They'll find them, between him, Jade, and Floyd they'll find Yuu and someone will have a very bad day. But there's nothing, they're being lied to and stonewalled at every turn and when finally (it's been 10 months 3 weeks and two days, he could count down to the hours and seconds but who would listen?) Riddle of all people contacts them with a lead, he's dead almost immediately. Turned into a phantom, all of those friends of yours he was so jealous of too… no one is telling him but he knows. You're not coming back, he's never going to meet your child, he failed at a moray's one job of protecting his cleaner shrimp. When he's alone he talks to you both sometimes, nights when you can see the stars are becoming increasingly rare as the sky flares up with ink but he likes to think you found your way up to the sky.

When he loses Floyd and Azul he sort of loses his will to live. The only thing that keeps him going is the promise of one day being able to lay them both to rest eventually, but until then he bar tends at NRC and listens to all the little things people talk about when the world is ending. If he was in a better place he'd probably find it funny how lose people's lips are getting, Azul’s business would be doing so well if he were here now…

That's what he's doing one day in September when one of the mage students runs up to him out of breath, Sehrish he thinks her name is?

“The headmage needs you in the hospital wing!” She sounds scared, out of breath like she's run the whole way and Jade is just curious enough to go. Something spurs him on to run himself, through the mirror and into the wing and-

He doesn't even hesitate, his body acts before his brain does launching him towards you and grasping desperately at your hands. They're cold, you're going cold and he doesn't have the warmth in his body to give you. Something has mercy on him and let's your eyes open just the bit as you reach just as desperate to be close to him as he is to you and he feels your strength pass into him.

“Don't apologize.” He manages to whisper.

“But I'm sorry.” You cry. “I love you so much and I couldn't forget even though they wanted me to.”

“Who did this. Who took you just name them and I promise you my pearl-” he gets to kiss you one more time before your gone. Jade doesn't move, he thinks Crewel is yelling for his attention but he can't move, he wants to stay here forever he has to protect you, why wasn't he able to protect you?!

“Oh holy fuck that tastes bad.” There's a dazed voice Jade has never heard before, heavy with sorrow, and though he doesn't quite have it yet, Jade feels purpose begin to return to his heart.

Jade! Yutu is a menace. I like the idea of him being some form of punk or goth, with piercings and a few tattoos that Yuu doesn't know anything about. He grew up with a small group of close knit alt friends who would come over to Yuu's house and shoot the shit. Yuu was really popular with Yutu's friends actually, he had mixed feelings about that. (No, his parent isn't accepting step-father applications, Joshua, keep running your mouth and see what happens)

Has a mixed ranged of emotions about his parent's amnesia. When he was younger not knowing who his dad was made him really sad, he'd listen to other kids talk about doing things with their fathers and he'd dream about doing them with his dad, but the picture was always blurry and felt just... wrong somehow. As he gets older and starts forming his world view he starts to think his dad might have left Yuu for any number of reasons. Did it happen before or after their amnesia, that's what he wants to know.

He has a pretty big problem with authority, residual trauma from the trip across worlds he thinks now… but back in your world he just didn't see the point of respecting someone just because they have more money and power than him. Almost everyone does, that doesn't make them special! But he's so sneaky about it, if it weren't for his clothes or his friends Yuu would hardly know what he gets up to in his spare time. It put a bit of strain on their relationship, Yutu sees his lies as something he does to protect his parent, while Yuu sees themselves as well. A parent. Who is the one who should be protecting their child not the other way around.

When he tries to pull similar stunts with Original Timeline! Jade he gets a rude awakening. He tries sneaking out to meet up with some friends only to find his dad sitting with them, polite smile on his face clearly reveling in how awkward he is making this. Oya, did Yutu think he was being slick? He's hurt, no really this is the first time Jade has had to fake cry in years, he'd almost forgot how. Didn't Yutu ever wonder where he got this from? Because he had to know it wasn't Yuu.

Jade! Yutu also played in a band in middle school and also played bass, it just wasn't a jazz trio or an upright bass. He would have liked continued to play in bands, but he shares his dad's issues with stage fright which makes it sort of difficult. He has tried his hand at writing his own music from time to time, but he's waaaaay too shy to ever play it for anyone other than the woods.

He really likes horror stories and cryptids, so he wasn't super afraid of the monsters when he first arrived in Twisted Wonderland. One round with Phantom Riddle changed that nonchalant attitude quick, and while he still is very attached to the stuff he read about back in your world he hates blot monsters and Twisted Wonderland fiends in general.

Speaking of those monsters, Jade hates Yutu fighting them. Father and son are an absolute nightmare for Crewel to deal with, one is threatening to drown him if Yutu is allowed to fight, the other is screaming curse words and saying it doesn't matter what Crewel does, he's going anyway. He needs a drink (but not from Jade's bar he's going to get poisoned)

I don't think Yutu actually told Jade he was planning on going back in time because he was angry and just assumed that he would try and stop him. He's really proud of himself for the first few weeks he spends in the past thinking he got one over on his old man finally (he didn't, but he did hurt him quite a bit), but the more he interacts with the younger version of his parents the more he starts to regret that decision.

Past Jade is so… fun. He thinks his dad is fun?! His weird obsession with mushrooms was never something they talked about beyond a few compliments his dad gave to a mushroom patch he had on his jacket; watching his old man prattle on now he never would have guessed any of this. Yutu never doubted that Jade loved you, but he didn't really think about what that looked like, or what you might have meant to Jade. They just didn't talk about it, now that he's forced to think about it Jade was probably trying to focus on having him back and how lucky he was to even have that. And instead of being honest about how angry he was to have lost you he lied and said he was fine. With how good his dad was at knowing when he was lying Jade had to know that's how he felt, but respected his boundaries and didn't push. All those comments about being there when he's ready to talk, all the times Jade said he loved him, and those long nights he watched from afar as Jade sat with tea next to your grave, just talking to you as if you were still there are put into context. Yutu isn't able to sleep for a few nights after that.

Jade finds Yutu interesting. He's a potential source of information about Yuu, a lot of his quirks remind him of himself and he finds the new kids blatant disrespect for authority to be hilarious! And hilariously good blackmail material, now now don't be afraid he really is just here to help...

"Nice try old man you won't pull shit out of me." Yutu sounds smug, but Jade knows when his spell has worked and when it hasn't; how delightful he doesn't seem to remember someone ever being so cocky about it before.

"That's a shame." He makes sure to make his face fall to keep the new kid off his guard as he continues his questioning. "It's just I am curious where did you come from? I thought Yuu's world doesn't have magic."

"I mean it doesn't, probably never would have been able to come back in time if I was still stuck there." Yutu blinks, clarity starting to come into view as Jade pushes through the surprise to ask a final question.

"Oya? And just why did you come back in time, were you worried about Yuu?"

"Of course I'm worried about my parent what sort of stupid question is-" Yutu returns to himself and treats Jade to a look of shock so rare and downright delightful he can't help but smile himself. "Hey just what did you do?"

Old man? What a disrespectful thing to call his father, no wonder his future self never told his son about his unique magic. Jade doesn't have time to doubt his affections for Yuu, once Yutu realizes he's fucked and can't get out of admitting that was the truth he tells Jade who he is and a bit about what the future is like. Jade can tell he's keeping a few details back, but he knows himself well enough to know that everything Yutu is describing would have changed him to a degree that he might not have been in the best mental space to help his son through the loss of Yuu.

Speaking of Yuu, Jade asks Yutu to keep his existence to himself for a bit. He wants to win over your affections without the help of the future looming in your thoughts, he only gets to have this part of his life with you once and he intends to savor it. But the confidence boost he gets from knowing you do end up as his mate does have him acting a bit goofy for a bit. Floyd and Azul are legitimately scared.

They are brought up to speed as Jade insists on introducing Yutu to them "properly" and he is every inch the proud father showing off their new baby to the relatives even though Yutu is practically his height and has a bunch of piercings. Floyd takes a liking to him immediately while Azul is a bit more awkward, not that he doesn't like Yutu he's just a lot different from anyone Azul has ever met before so he's unsure how to sell himself. Luckily he doesn't have to because Yutu appreciates his genuine self just like Floyd, Jade, and Yuu do.

Jade gladly invites Yutu to join the Mountain Lover's Club and is very excited when he says yes. Yutu finds a lot of enjoyment in helping his dad work mushrooms into Azul and Floyd's food by pretending to agree with their complaints. Floyd is so mad he calls Yuu and tells them to come get their kid.

The over protectiveness doesn't end exactly, but Yutu is more willing to understand and Jade is more able to explain himself. They're both extremely protective of Yuu and in sound agreement that nothing like Yutu's future can ever be allowed to come to pass. Jade wanted a family, so to learn that he got that and someone took it away from him? Future him was overwhelmed with grief but current him is overwhelmed with rage. Remember book four? He described what he would do to someone who betrayed him, and it wasn't pretty. His plans for whoever did this to his precious mate and child is going to get so much worse.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #jade leech x yuu

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thisonehere · 5 months

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Could you do headcanons for Reiko, Rain, Havik and Bi-Han with a siren reader?

You got it!

Mk Men x Siren!reader

A/n: Hey you, nice to see you again. I love this idea so much. It reminds me of a series I did on this blog a while back...we don't talk about that... Tags: Mk1, MK AU, Siren!reader C/w: Yandere tropes, (in captain america voice) language! , allusions to s3x

Reiko

He hadn't even met you yet and already he was interested. There is no doubt about it, he is a madman.

He'd come to you no doubt to get your aid in General Shao's ongoing campaign against the royal family. Shao had just gave a brief description of you and Reiko was almost instantly obsessed.

He would jump off the ship and swim to you before you even knew of their presence and could start singing. So the sight of him was confusing as much as it was beguiling.

He almost didn't want to bring you back to Shao. He wanted to keep you all to himself. Finally he would relent and brig back to his leader. To his luck, Shao assigned the both of you to work together.

He'd steal as many moments away as with you as he could. He refused to share you with anyone. He'd be in a fury whenever he heard a single soul showing any interest. Perhaps they wouldn't even show up the next day.

If a single soul said a single bad thing about you he'd beat the ever loving shit out of them. Hell, he'd beat them to death if no one stopped him.

He tells you how much he loves you every day. If given the chance, he'd show his love by sending gifts, odd things he knew you loved, or even dismembered limbs for you to feed off of. He would also show his love for you in... other ways, if he had enough time.

You are the only reason he even would show Liu Kang any bit of praise. He begrudgingly thankful to him for creating you.

The realms shudder at your joining hands with him. Your union is one of the deadliest ones in the realms. Both Shao and Liu Kang would worry about you two and how much of a threat you were slowly becoming.

Rain

While one the run from Empress Mileena, Rain came across you as he traveled the seas. Or you came across him to be precise. At the sound of your call, Rain came to you unable to control himself. Much to your surprise, when Rain finally came to you he wasn't terrified at all, instead he was in awe. You were the most magnificent thing he had ever seen in his life.

So you let him live, you went with him, you have not parted with each other since.

Rain did everything he could to impress you, your perception of him seemed to matter to him most of all. He'd do every trick he knew of to amuse you. Your smile, your laugh was intoxicating to him.

To others, you were a horrid monster, to him, you were a beautiful mermaid, his muse. You inspired him in so many ways he'd be here for countless hours to name them all.

But as much as his interest in this relationship was about you, it was him. He loves you, but he also sees you as the perfect person to help him expand his skills and mastery. He'd want you to teach him everything you knew. His hunger for power sometimes eclipsed his interest in you.

But even then, he'd never want to betray you. The idea of not only betraying but leaving you is something so painful that he'd refuse yo imagine it. He already betrayed his Kingdom, he has lost everything. He can't lose you.

Havik

You two had met when he was working with Rain to overthrow Seido, you were trying to lure him to his death, the usual. But this time was different, he wasn't going to because he was under your influence, he was doing this under his own fruition. You amaze him, a creature who is both beauty and beast. He had to have you.

The sight and realization that his chaotic nature subsides your control, as well as the fake that he's crazy enough to willingly approach you, it amuses you.

You both had a chaotic nature within you both, so you have an instant connection. His love for you is so great, he can't get enough of you.

Like Reiko, he sends you gift after gift. Keep in mind that these would be no normal gifts. They include but not limited to oddities, cursed artifacts, dismembered limbs (if he was feeling frisky, he'd send certain ones over others).

The things you'd do together are as insane as you'd imagine. You would lure people into your trap and he would torture them in whatever sadistic way you'd like.

Other times you'd do the most disturbing things to each other just for fun. Things so vile that it would make Shinnok sick. But you don't care you love doing these things together. You love being together, and all the realms shudder at the very thought of your union.

Bi-Han

The very concept of you fascinates him. Everything about you amazes him, your beauty, your voice, your willingness to kill. Though he won't admit it, he's been obsessed with you ever since he first met you.

But how did you first meet? Ah yes, when you tried to lure him and some of his Lin Kuei to their deaths while they were at sea. He wasn't affected though, his iron-will protected him from your lull. But he couldn't get you off his mind from that point on, he had to get you by his side no matter the cost.

You were intrigued by him also, the way he resisted you. It brought you to him, ironically.

You two have been inseparable ever since. Together you formed an alliance so deadly that all the realms shuddered at your union.

Whenever you went away or weren't by his side, he felt alone and miserable. He couldn't live without you, he refuses to admit it but he does.

When you were together he'd insist that it was just you and him, no one was allowed to be present unless necessary. He wanted you all to himself.

Even though you were with Bi-Han, that didn't stop from continuing your habits. You'd still lure men to their deaths or worse, even if those men were Lin Kuei. But this didn't anger Bi-Han for you could do no wrong in his eyes. In fact, this makes him jealous. Is he not enough to satisfy you? What is so good about them that you prefer over him? Is what he thinks to himself.

He will never say to you, but he adores you and he'd never leave you alone, no matter what you do.

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llamagoddessofficial · 1 year

Note

i love the good aquarium au! i want to see the fishes happy 🩷o🩷 How do the sirens interact with mc in this version? 🩷

Sans: He has to wait much longer than his bad AU counterpart to get to 'play' with her. This aquarium is very safety-focused, and unwilling to have anyone even near his open tank, let alone in it. Despite his obvious obsession and courting displays, Mc remains safely behind thick barriers and high out of his reach- the only chance he'll get is if he proves he can behave, and Mc herself is the one who approaches management about the subject of swimming with him.

Her presence clearly has benefits on him, so she spends a lot of time on his shifts, talking to him from up on the railings or entertaining him through the glass, sometimes just doing homework by the dappled blue light of his tank. He does occasionally attempt to pull her into the water, whether he's breaching and knocking the railing or grabbing a feeding pole and yanking it (in the hopes of yanking her in with it)... but he's always unsuccessful.

It gives them time to get to know one another more. Time for him to mellow, realise that just because she leaves when her shift is over doesn't mean she won't come back. Time, so that when they do finally make physical contact, it's a gentle and mutual experience that leaves him feeling like things in his world are going to be okay.

Red: Again, poor Red has to wait a lot longer in this AU to get to swim with his girlfriend. But not as long as Sans. Since Red's so well behaved with humans, his keepers interact with him a lot more closely (albeit while wearing plenty of hand and arm protection), giving him lots of chances to flirt with her close-up. He gets many more opportunities than Sans to show that he can behave with her; though 'behaving' still includes grabbing her butt if she lets her guard down too long.

... In this AU, the aquarium knows Red considers her his mate. Mc does too. After she was suddenly hired, the first thing management did was put her on a pretty intense and in-depth learning course. Now even if he's flirting like a siren she knows exactly what's going on. Initially, it made the aquarium cautious about letting her swim with him- but since he's never going to be released, it might be alright after all. It does make life easier when it comes to things like giving him medicine; he doesn't bite when it's his mate doing the medical checkup.

Skull: Mc ends up interacting physically with Skull a lot sooner than anyone intended. At first, there was obviously zero contact thanks to his kill, she'd only even THINK of interacting physically with Skull if she was completely confident he'd never hurt her. And that kind of confidence would only come from a long while working with him, perhaps years.

... Thing is. He's a clever boy, he wants Mc's affection. And he won't wait years. He makes a 'hobby' out of breaking security measures and pulling her into the tank- at first it's a terrifying incident, but as it happens over and over, it loses its shock value and becomes something of an in-joke at the aquarium. Especially since he never actually does anything... just pulls her in, cuddles her, then politely sets her back on the side of the tank like nothing happened. No matter what they do, Skull just finds increasingly more and more complicated and innovative ways to snatch her into his pool.

Eventually, they can clearly see he's not going to kill her- and they decide it's probably just easier for everyone if she interacts with him in person. He's going to grab her anyway, may as well let him do it before he finds a way to break every security measure they have.

#llamagines #good zoo siren au #love the idea of like. in-world news sites picking up on mc's story #running titles like “This aquarist is accidentally married to three sirens”#“Cute! Watch this shark siren 'flirt' with his keeper!”#“This Deep Sea siren has broken out of his enclosure to cuddle his keeper- eight times!!!”

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dreamingofep · 4 months

Text

Sinned Awakening pt. 21🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/Vampire Austin! Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond beliet and your undeniable attraction makes you tear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, SMUTTT, mentions of blood/gore!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: Hello everyone happy Sunday! Thanks for convincing me to keep writing! The support over this fic is amazing so thank you so so much! Exciting stuff is happening in this part and really hope you enjoy where I’ve taken this! Please comment, message, and reblog if you feel so inclined ❤️

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here I hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

May 1973

Spoiled was an understatement of how you were getting treated by Elvis these last few weeks. You didn’t deserve such things, but he was insistent. You two flew around the country, getting to see things you never thought you’d get the chance to in this life. Elvis canceled his upcoming tour to spend time with you and his manager just about lost his head about it. Elvis gave him one look that just about drained all the color out of his face when he said no to him. He never got questioned about it after that.

Elvis was sure he was going to give you every human experience you wanted to have. Part of you was excited to try new things, taste new foods, and see places you never knew existed. There was another small part of you would miss certain things. You’d miss the warmth of the sun, and the comfort of a soft blanket wrapped around you. All of it would be so different for you. An unknown world was going to be unleashed and it was going to be a huge adjustment. Elvis was gracious and patient with you, assuring you everything was going to be alright. You believed every word he said, knowing he would be by your side through the entire time.

He kept you up all night making deep, passionate love to you at all hours of the night. You weren’t going to miss sleep that’s for sure. He was making up for lost time and was worshiping you any chance he could. Making love to him was like a song, something that started slow and sultry, then crescendos into something electric and thrilling. He knew how to make you sing and hit all the right notes. You were indeed his favorite song to play.

You knew he tried to ignore the bite marks on your body, but you felt when his eyes would stare at them in frustration. You suggested to him to feed from those scarred spots, hoping that maybe his bite would heal them in some way but he wouldn’t let himself do that. The shame and guilt he had inside him was still present and it was going to take time to get through those feelings.

But you’d let him feed when he wanted and he began to not be as shy about asking if he could. The more he did it, the more you found it insanely attractive. The pain was still prominent when he initially sunk his teeth in you but it faded away after a short period of time. It was something he needed to survive and you were more than happy to give that to him. Each time he fed, there was a small part of you that wanted him to finish the process so you could turn. But he wouldn’t let himself do that to you. He was adamant about keeping you human til your birthday like you wanted.

He took you to Hawaii the week of your birthday and you think that this has to be your new favorite place in this world. It was more stunning than you could ever imagine. Elvis would tell you stories of the times he’s visited and the movies he’s made there. He was here earlier in the year recording the first worldwide concert via satellite. He was so proud of the concert, every time he brought it up, he had this big smile on his face and was so happy he got to do it. He couldn’t help but marvel over the fact he made history doing that concert. He definitely had a love for this place and you could see why. The waters were more blue than you could have dreamed and cool enough to relax your body after laying out on the beach for too long.

Elvis would watch you enjoy your time here while he stayed underneath the shade of an umbrella. He would come and join you for a bit in the water and keep his shirt on to shield him as much as possible from the sun. It made his skin hurt though and he couldn’t stay out there that long with you. You understood and thought it was cute he still wanted to be out there with you regardless. After your legs get tired from swimming, you get out of the water and receive a devious look from him, his eyes eating you up as water dripped off your body. You smirk at him and shake your head gently.

“What do we have here,” he says softly.

“It’s just me,” you say shyly.

“No, I think it’s the love of my life,” he says pulling you on top of him.

He scoops you into his arms, holding you tightly and taking a deep breath in, giving you kisses on your cheek. His cool body temperature gives you goosebumps after getting out of the water and need a towel to dry off. He senses you’re cold and wraps a towel around you that was lying out in the sun getting warm. It felt so nice on your skin, making you feel cozy and warm.

“Let's go back to the room for a bit hmm?” He says softly. You nod your head and he takes your hand as you walk toward the hotel. You had the penthouse suites, of course, to give you and Elvis the most amount of privacy while you stayed here. He would get awestruck looks while you went through the lobby and a few people stopped him for an autograph.

You took the elevator all the way up to the top floor, holding him around his waist. The mood felt tense like he was nervous for you. Once you both are in the room, he locks the door behind him and looks at you softly, his eyes looking unwaveringly. You smile at him and turn to go on the balcony, looking out at the light blue waters on the horizon. You don’t hear him walk your way, but feel his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you back into his body. You sigh at the feeling of him, loving him more than you could have possibly imagined.

“Are you having a good birthday honey?” He asks low into your ear.

“Yes, I am. The best one ever,” you hum softly.

“Well, if you wanted to have more birthdays, you can always have that option…” he trails off. You squeeze at his hand, turn around to face him, and pull him in for a kiss.

“No, I don’t need any other special days when I get to have you forever,” you assure him.

“Mhmm… okay baby, as long as you’re happy. Was there anything else you wanted?” He asks, slowly trailing his hand down your back.

You can’t help that your heart gallops at the sight of him or how he has that look on his face that could make you do anything he wants. He smirks at the sound of your fluttering heart and pulls you in closer. Your bodies melt into each other and your brain begins to fog over at any logical thinking. You repeat the question he asked in your head and smirk at him.

“N-no, there’s nothing else I could possibly want. Was there anything you wanted to give me?” You ask cheekily.

He chuckles amused, tucking your hair behind your ear, “yes there was. There was one more human thing I wanted to give you…” he says. You look at him a bit confused, not sure what he’s getting at.

“When I first told you about our bond, I knew it was hard for you. The notion of giving up your human life and being part of a vampire one was a lot to handle. I know you said you were scared and had a future to look forward to and make for yourself. That’s why we’ve been traveling so much, getting you to see new things you never have before. And that will never stop, I’ll keep showing you new places. I wanted to give you something else that you mentioned you were going to miss.”

He slowly bent down on one knee and pulled a ring box from his pocket. He opens the small, red velvet box and looks up at you, love overflowing his gaze. A stunning diamond ring is looking at you and sparkles in the sunlight.

“Honey, will you do the immense honor of marrying me?” He says as his voice trembles.

You hold your breath, not believing this is really happening. The diamond was huge. You’d never seen something so extravagant other than the rings Elvis wears. It was an emerald cut with a pavé band in yellow gold and was the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen.

“Oh my God, honey, are you serious?!” You breathe.

“Yes baby, I want you. In every possible way, in the human way, by making you my wife, but also as my Chosen and make you mine forever,” he confesses.

Tears well up in your eyes and your heart leaps out with joy and love for him.

“Yes, of course I’ll marry you,” you say, your voice shaky and in disbelief.

He stands up to wrap you in his arms and hug you tightly. He kisses you with so much love and passion it makes you dizzy. You pull at his arms to have him somehow hold you tighter and it leaves you breathless. He pulls away to look at you, smiling and taking the ring out of the box.

You shakily hold your hand out and he slips the ring on your finger. It was a perfect fit and looked more beautiful than you could have ever imagined any ring could have looked on you.

“We can go get married whenever you want. Just tell me when and I’ll make it happen,” he tells you.

“What about the press? Won’t it look weird if you just suddenly get married after just getting divorced?” You ask worried.

“I don’t care about that darlin’. You’re all I care about and what makes you happy. We can do it whenever you want.”

“What about right now? Just go to city hall and do it right there? What do you think?” You say.

He looks at you a little shocked, not expecting you to be so ready for this.

“Yeah, baby? You don’t want a big wedding with your family and friends? There’s no rush,” he says softly.

“Yeah, that’s what I want. And besides, I want my husband to turn me later,” you press, knowing he’s going to like the sound of that. A low emitted growl comes from his chest and he squeezes your arms.

“Mhmm… that sounds like the most perfect way to go about it,” he says pulling you in for another kiss.

He called his guys and had them arrange everything and get a car ready to head down to city hall. He had enough connections that it wasn’t an issue to put everything together and get a marriage license ready for him. Everyone came to city hall and witnessed you both say your vows and celebrate with you.

It was just enough, it was special but there wasn’t too much attention drawn to you which sounded like your worst nightmare for a wedding. At that moment, it was just you and Elvis. You all quickly got out of the building before the word got leaked that Elvis is now married to a new mystery woman no one’s ever seen him with. For a split second, you think of your mom and Anna finding out this news in the newspaper without a heads up from you. You knew it wasn’t the best way to go about it but you’d deal with them later and knew they’d understand.

Everyone celebrates up in the penthouse with you both, happiness filling the room and joyful laughter. Elvis kept his arm around you the entire night, not letting you leave his side. He looked down at you from time to time and would just mutter something under his breath you couldn’t hear. You reach up for a kiss and he gives you a soft and tender one.

The sun was starting to set and the sky filled with a beautiful golden-orange sky. As you’re looking out the window, he bends down slightly so he can whisper something in your ear, “I think it’s time to kick everyone out and let me enjoy time with just my wife,” he says softly. Your heart gallops at the notion and you nod your head in agreement. Elvis gets everyone to leave and makes sure to tell them that no one disturb us. The door closes and you shiver at the way he’s looking at you.

He walks slowly to you, not having to say a word to get you to come to him.

“I love you,” he whispers, pulling you into his arms.

“I love you too,” you say back, pulling at his collar and getting him to kiss you. His lips crash into yours and your hands roam freely on his body.

“What did you want to do now?” You ask cheekily.

“It’s your day, you tell me what you need from me,” he says. His tone of voice and the way the slightest touch makes you unravel has to be one of the best things in the world. You would never get enough of him.

You pull him in closer by his arms, “I think you know what I want…I want you to change me,” you plead.

He takes a sharp breath, looking down at you with lust, need, and apprehension in his eyes.

“Are you sure about this? You don’t have to rush anything. It doesn’t have to be today. You could just enjoy being married as a human for a bit,” he assures.

“I’m positive. I want this more than you know. I’m ready to be completely yours,” you hum into his ear. He lets out a pleased grumble and squeezes you tighter, nearly knocking the wind out of you. He quickly releases the grip he has on your waist.

“Sorry baby didn’t mean to squeeze ya so tight,” he snickers, his hands consuming your body.

“Was there a certain way you wanted to do this? I want to make this as painless as possible,” he says softly, concern filling his eyes.

“No, I thought you would know how to do this the best,” you say jokingly.

“Well, yes, I’ve turned people before. I’ve just never turned someone I love so dearly… this is all new to me too,” he jests.

Your heart thumps faster, anxiety and intrigue filling your veins. A million things run through your head and you don’t know what to do exactly. There isn’t a play-by-play of how to become a vampire exactly. Would you go into a blood frenzy the second he bites you? Could it be contained? What would this all feel like? You sort through your scattered thoughts and try to ask them calmly.

“And where should I… bite you?” You say softly. He looks at you intensely, liking the sound of that proposition already.

“Anywhere you want baby, your instincts will take over and you’ll know what to do, trust me,” he coos, softly touching the side of your neck with his fingertips.

You push at his chest, leading him to the edge of the bed where he sits down when he feels the plush mattress hit the back of his knees. You stand in front of him and want to devour him. A shiver runs through you at that thought and you sit on his lap.

“Kiss me,” you plead, your heart racing against him. He wraps his arms around your waist with a grunt and pulls you even closer to his body. His hand caresses the back of your head and kisses your lips, tenderness and need filling you. You wrap your arms around him tightly and melt into his cool touch. He kisses down your cheek and onto your neck, nipping there causing an airy moan to escape from your lips.

“I wanna fuck you. I want to fuck my wife,” he growls, grinding your core on his bulge. You grumble in his neck and bite there, making him groan.

“Turn me first. Then I’ll be able to keep you up all night and fuck you how you like,” you tease. He bites his lower lip, his large hands cupping your supple breasts.

“You promise? Do you think you can take that all night? Even if you’re a vampire?” he growls. Your cheeks redden, unable to denounce his godawful seductive ways you were sure even in immortal life, you would never be able to handle normally. You sigh at the notion and you feel yourself melt into him.

“Yes, I promise you.” You moan into his mouth, going in for another kiss.

“No, let me make you feel good first. Please let me give you this and I will turn you after,” he tells you.

You don’t want to fight him over this and the way he’s looking at you with these dark and hungry eyes, you can’t say no to him. He beckons you to get closer to him and he crawls back on the bed, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it to the side. You crawl in between his legs and unbutton his pants, needing to feel his naked body on yours.

He lays down on the bed and you unzip your dress, watching how he looks at you with big, needy eyes. You start to pepper kisses up his naked body, making his chest huff with anticipation. Your eyes never leave his as your mouth gets dangerously close to his cock. Your tongue licks the underside of his shaft in one long swipe and he groans in agony. You gently rub his cock in your hand and look up at him innocently.

“Let me make you feel good. Just like this,” you coo, sucking on his head, moving the rest of his length with your hand.

“Goddamn baby, no,” he commands. You stop and he pulls at your arms to make you get on top of him. You look up at him unsure what he’s doing.

“I need to take care of you, the way I want to,” he grumbles, his hand slithering up to your neck and squeezing there. “Let me take care of my wife real nice now.”

You grab onto his wrist and your eyes roll back at the pressure closed around your neck.

“You know I’ll be just as strong as you when you turn me. Enjoy getting your way with me now while I can’t put up a good fight,” you tease. He grunts at that notion and gives you his hungry stare, his eyes slowly devouring your body.

“Oh, darlin’ what makes you think you’ll want to put up a fight? Do you think you’ll be able to fight how much you want me when you’re turned? It’ll be even worse than it is now.” He smirks devilishly. You stare at him drunkenly, not imagining you could want him any more than you do now.

“Goddamn it, don’t start,” you say holding his jaw, knowing it’s going to fuel him more. You bite the inside of your cheek and feel your core flutter. Fire ignites in his eyes and he pulls by you closer to his face.

“Hmm,” he hums to himself smugly, “I’m not doing anything. I’m just stating mere facts. And by the looks of it,” he pauses and his hand finds your dripping heat, “you like the idea of wanting me more. You like the idea of having my cock ruin you hmm? Just ruining my favorite places to be inside of all night, like this one,” he says as his fingers tease through your folds and circles your entrance.

“And this one,” he coos, pressing his index finger to your lips and you can’t help but lick the pad of it.

He lets out a satisfied grumble,” Mhmm, I love it when you beg for it, ” He teases, his fingers picking up pace and gathering more of the slick that has accumulated there. You gasp at the friction he gives you and try your best to not give him the satisfaction of showing how good it feels.

“God, I know you do. You just love to hear your name screamed, don’t you? Thought you’d get enough from all the audiences screaming your name,” You hiss. In the blink of an eye, his eyes are dark and ravenous. Two of his fingers plunge into your wet heat and curl them deep inside you. You gasp at the sensation and your eyes roll back.

“I wonder if you’ll be this insolent as a vampire too? I wonder if you’ll always test me and keep having me punish you for saying such things to me,” He says as he gives your ass a swift spank. “You’re going to be exhausted at the rate you don’t listen.” He moves his fingers and twists them deeper inside you and you groan, your hips moving with his hand.

“Elvis,” you hiss at him, his fingers continuing to make you fall apart.

“That’s right honey, you can be louder if you want to, no one’s in the penthouse. Say it one more time for me, nice and loud,” he teases devilishly. You shut your eyes in agony, pleasure skyrocketing into your body and making everything else seem meaningless.

“Elvisss, please! Please,” you whimper louder.

“Let me please you, baby. Let me give you more,” he coos. Your heart races a million miles per hour and you give in. Your body stiffens and you feel your core flutter at the notion.

“Yes, I’ll let you take me however you want,” you moan.

“Mhmm, good girl. Turn around and get on me,” he commands.

You look at him unsure, if you’re understanding correctly, you’ve never done this kind of thing and it made you feel like you’re about to die. You do as you’re told though and turn around on him straddling his torso, taking his long length in your hand, getting ready to take him inside your dripping heat. You suddenly feel his hands on your hips and makes you angle them back to his face. You look over your shoulder at him in disbelief. He makes your breathing hitch and your body begins to tremble.

“That’s it, baby, just relax,” he says low. You feel his thumb swipe through your dripping heat and you whine. You felt so exposed, so naughty for doing this sort of thing. You’ve never done this! The most intimate parts of you were just in his face and there was no being modest about anything now.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he plays with you, his thumb gathering your seeping arousal.

“Fuck baby this little pussy just dripping for me? Lookin’ absolutely delicious,” he groans.

That’s when you feel his tongue start to lap through your folds, groaning deeply as he tastes you. His low grumbling sounds made you wetter by the second. God damn him and his perfect mouth. Your chest heaves and you can’t keep your eyes open as he gives you the most intense wave of pleasure. He focuses on teasing you, not staying in one particular place for too long. His hands have a firm grip on your hips, keeping you as still as possible as his mouth does the work.

You open your eyes and find his cock hard and dripping with precum in front of your face. You could barely function with his mouth on you like this but you were going to try to please him too. Your hand gathers the slick on his head and you slowly start to spread it along his length. He lets out a low grumble that sends a vibration through you and you gasp. You do this slowly and try to tease him as much as he did to you but there’s no point. He always wins the teasing game.

You lean your upper body lower and start to swirl your tongue around his head. Another deep moan comes from him and it makes your body feel limp.

His tongue works faster on you and you let more of his cock slip into your mouth. You both moan together and his hips move up very faintly with your movements. You had never experienced anything like this and it was incredibly fervid getting to get fucked by his perfect mouth and you do the same to him.

You suddenly feel his tongue enter your core and you gasp for air. Your hips can’t help but rock back into his face. It felt too good not to and after all the teasing he’s done, you needed him inside you.

“Oh God, baby yes. Oh yes, fuck me,” You pant. He responds to you with a moan as his mouth is on you, sucking on your clit and then moving his tongue back inside you.

You try to focus on him more and suck more of his length. He helps you as he moves his cock in and out of you more and your tongue does the rest. But you couldn’t last much longer, not with the way he was devouring your pussy. You can barely catch your breath and his cock was hitting the back of your throat, making the most vile noises.

He moans again and you are about to get off of him when he stops you and grabs your thighs with his hands.

“Stay on me. Turn around and come sit on my face,” he growls, his voice exhibiting an unparalleled amount of dominance. You do as you’re told and turn around, placing your knees on either side of his head. He greedily grabs your hips, sitting you down, putting his mouth back on your core. It doesn’t take long for him to make you see stars with the way he’s eating you, like it was the first time, making it all too much to handle. Your walls flutter and your body shakes on top of him. Your hips roll on his face, chasing the high of your orgasm and your hand rakes through your hair, looking up to the ceiling.

“Oh my God baby,” you cry out, gasping for breath.

He teases at your entrance, too sensitive after all this but he doesn’t care, he wants to watch you squirm on top of him. It was one of his favorite things to do. Your body keeps shaking and he looks up at you with lust lighting up his dark eyes.

He lifts you up off his face so that you’re hovering above him on your knees and he turns his face to the inside of your thigh to kiss it but groans slightly instead. The scar from where Daniel bit you was still very prominent there and you were sure it killed Elvis to look at. He groans uncomfortably the more he looks at it. You place your hand on his face, making him look up at you.

“I’m all yours, no one else's. Feed baby, right there, it’s all yours,” you pant. His hands grip on your thighs tighter and he lets out a frustrated grunt before he sinks his teeth into your scarred flesh. You gasp as his sharp fangs pierce into your fragile skin, all too close to your over-sensitive core.

You try to stifle the groan that comes out of you, the sharp pain of his fangs making you wince. He’d never fed here before, it was all so new and fragile. Maybe the scar from the previous bite made it ultra-sensitive. Either way, it was all such a new sensation, and pain spread through you.

He swallows your blood delightedly and has a grip around your thighs that makes you immovable. Small groans come from the back of his throat as he feeds, and it just about makes you want to faint. The way he sounds when he’s with you will never be something you’ll ever get tired of. It’s like he’s never touched you before. Never gotten to see you naked. Never tasted any part of you and gets to experience it for the first time.

Your legs begin to quiver and you feel your arousal spill out of you and run down your thigh. He drinks a few more gulps and slowly stops, gently taking his fangs out of you so he doesn’t tear your skin harshly. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and his tongue is back on your thigh, licking the remaining blood that is seeping out of the wound and licking up your spilled arousal. You curse at him, looking down and watching how his hungry eyes light up when he sees you panting above him.

In a flash, he has you pinned on the bed with your arms above your head and his hands firmly pinning you there. “Fuckin’ hell baby,” he grunts. You feel the tip of his cock tease your entrance and you moan, already too overworked to be teased.

“Honey please,” you whimper.

He gently puts his cock all the way inside you, making you cry out his name, fucking you slow and powerfully.

“Tell me what you want,” he coos, his voice sending shivers through you, moving his hips the way only he can.

You can’t rationally speak, everything was so overwhelming and your mind couldn’t put together what you wanted to say.

“I w-want…. I- oh please honey I-,” you mutter, unable to put together any cohesive thoughts together.

His hips snap into you, powerful and claiming, making you want to see stars once again. You groan in torment, unable to focus on anything else but his hard cock fucking you into the bed.

“Come on baby girl you can say it,” growls, slowing his thrusts to let you catch your breath but still making it difficult.

“Change me, please. I’m ready,” you tell him. He lets go of your arms and covers your body in kisses, smothering you with his love. He reaches your face and kisses your lips softly, the mood of the room changing dramatically. He fucks you slow and controlled, taking his time in enjoying all of you.

He takes a sharp breath and glides his finger along the side of your neck where your scar resides. His eyes wander down to the other scars on your chest, your tummy, and the inside of your thigh that is still leaking blood. You wished he wouldn’t look there, those scars a constant reminder of what awful things were done to you. His fingers trace every outline of the bite marks left on you and he looks back up at you.

“Okay baby,” he softly murmurs. Your nails rake down his arms in fear, anticipation, and nervousness. You try to pull him close but he stays hovering above you. His eyes darken again and he licks his bottom lip. You want him closer, kissing you with passion and distract you from the pain that will ensue.

“Elvis, please,” you whimper.

“Hold onto me tight okay? Don’t let go,” he tells you. You nod your head immediately and your chest heaves looking at his sharp fangs.

“I love you,” he whimpers.

“I love you too,” you breathe.

He lets out a grunt before leaning down and kissing your neck. Sparks of electricity run through you and hold onto his back. He swivels his hips into you making you gasp for air and you turn your head to the side. A pleased groan comes from Elvis’ mouth as your neck is fully exposed to him, right where he needs to bite. You whimper in agony for him, ready to be completely his and start anew.

A deep growl comes from his throat and you feel his hand grip at your jaw, keeping you still. Your heart pounds in your ears and that's when you feel his sharp fangs pierce into your neck. You cry out, the pain rippling through you like a tidal wave. He was right, this hurt worse than any other bite. The skin here was so much more sensitive and thin, it felt like his bite was fifty sets of fangs inside you all at once. Your nails embed themselves into his back, the pain increasing with every moment he was drinking out of your neck. You hear him moaning as he’s drinking more of your blood than he ever has before. But he has to for his venom to enter your bloodstream.

You feel tears puddling from the corners of your eyes, unable to catch your breath. Your gasps and groans fill the room as Elvis is groaning, drinking from your neck in a focused manner. He pulls you up from the bed, sitting back with you sitting on him, holding you close as he swallows your blood with you two still connected.

Then you feel it; his venom. It was like wildfire burning and coursing through your veins. It made your entire body feel stiff and paralyzed. All you could manage to do was groan in agony, the pain paralyzing the rest of your senses. Your eyes started to feel the pain too and could only see large black specs in your vision. It was hurting to keep them open and each blink made it worse. Every movement you made made your body cry out in agony. Elvis was still feeding, holding the back of your head with his hand to support you. It felt like a long strain of time passed before he finally stopped and took his fangs out of you. You couldn’t see and the only thing keeping you in this moment was Elvis’ vice grip he had around your body that you were sure was going to break your bones. He doesn’t say anything and you suddenly feel both of his hands on your face. You can barely keep your head up and the searing flame burning in your eyes makes it unbearable.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes out, his tone scared and trembling. Your brain couldn’t compute what he meant or what he was seeing but it couldn’t have been good.

“Baby, it’s gonna be alright. I know it hurts I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” he says trembling. His voice seemed so far away from you, like in another void of time. You feel his tongue lick your open wound and his hand placed on your cheek.

“You need to bite me now honey. Right now,” he demands, but to you, his voice sounds so far away and almost like an angelic whisper and you don’t move. His hand leads your head to his neck and this sweet, savory scent fills your nose. You groan in misery and press your lips to his neck. You could feel his light pulse on his neck and that sweet scent hit you again like a train. You open your mouth and let this new found instinct take over your senses. You bite down on Elvis’ neck hard and feel his normal rigid flesh give way to much more soft and supple skin. He pushes the back of your head into his neck more, encouraging you to keep going. You sink your teeth deeper into him and you taste the first taste of blood hit your tongue. It was strange at first, it didn’t taste like much and almost tasted metallic. Then you start to suck more and that’s when it hit you; the most savory and decadent thing you’ve ever put on your lips. His blood ran down your throat and your body thanked you for it. You were still weak but it felt good to drink from his neck. You had enough strength to pull yourself closer to him and feed more. You faintly hear him moan, clutching to your body and breathing heavily. Your hunger worsens and you drink bigger gulps, you have never felt hunger like this. This ravenous appetite Elvis would describe to you was very much real and worse than you realized. But your head throbbed and your eyes still burned, unable to see anything.

You take your mouth off his neck and gasp for air. Everything felt like it was on fire and you didn’t know what to do. Your body went limp and your hearing went out.

Black.

Your eyes flutter open and the air is still, almost too still. You look at the white ceiling and it feels like you’re looking at it through a magnifying lens. You saw every single texture and line that went through the ceiling and it confused you. Your eyes shift to somewhere else and a piece of lint floats into your vision. You were able to discern every wave and bend of the fiber it was bizarre.

“Hey darlin’,” a smooth baritone voice whispers at the other end of the room.

You slowly sit up in the bed and see Elvis sitting in a chair in the corner with sunglasses on and a silk shirt unbuttoned.

You take a deep breath through your nose and the most heavenly scent fills your head. It was mouth-watering good. It was sweet and savory, warm and delicious with each breath you took. Breathing felt peculiar, almost like it wasn’t needed.

Your hands move on the sheets and you can feel the softness of them through every thread. A robe was wrapped around you and tied at your waist. The silk fabric felt nice around you and smelled just as great as the room.

Your legs swivel to the edge of the bed and slowly gain your bearings. Elvis gets up and cautiously walks to you. Everything felt off and way too sensitive. The plush carpet was grainy and soft at the same time. It went in between your toes and made it tickle.

You look up at Elvis and your breath nearly gets sucked out of you.

You’ve never seen such a beautiful man in your life.

Every single detail was perfect. His hair, his nose, his pouty lips.

All of it.

It was like you saw him for the first time and it makes you feel entranced. He changed from the last memory you had of him. He had a brighter glow about him, his hair shorter, and his face looked more flawless if that’s even possible.

You raise your hand to touch his face and the warmth of his skin radiates through you. His skin felt perfect and near obsessional. There wasn’t a flaw on his face and you never felt so in awe. You place your other hand on his chest and the course little hairs that resided there felt nice underneath your fingertips. And then it hits you; you can feel his warmth. He’s not cold and instead melts into your touch.

He places his hand on the back of your head to have you look at him. He lets out a sigh of relief and smiles at you lovingly.

“Hi beautiful, I missed you,” he coos, leaning in to kiss you. God those lips were perfection, devouring yours with intense need and the utmost importance. You sigh softly into him, loving how incredible he feels. He pulls away to look you over again, and bites his bottom lip slowly, making it pop.

“Jesus, you’re perfect. How was it possible for you to become even more beautiful…” he says dazed. You smirk at him and shake your head. “Come here, you need to look at yourself,” he says, leading you over to the large mirror in the corner of the room.

He holds your hand as he leads you over but you couldn’t care how you looked right now. All you wanted to do was study every detail of his face because you felt like you’d never seen him like this before. Stunning and perfect in every way. Elvis steps behind you and turns you around toward the mirror. You slowly turn your focus to your reflection and cock your head in confusion. You barely recognize yourself and look up at Elvis in the mirror.

You stare back at your golden, gleaming eyes and your long fanning lashes. You were in shock by what you were seeing, you had almost prepared yourself to see red eyes whenever you thought of changing into a vampire. The golden hue was like sunlight; bright, warm, and full of life. Your hair’s natural waves became more defined and the auburn color was vibrant and lustrous. Your skin was also smooth and pale like his and all your senses felt heightened. Every breath you took was intense and you rubbed your thumb against his hand and felt the hairs that were there.

The robe you’re wearing is not tightly tied around your waist so it exposes your chest and neck. As you look closer, you realize the scars from the bite marks are gone, and all that’s left behind is glass-smooth skin. Elvis’ hand is around your torso, melting into you and making you realize this is all real and not some delusion.

You twist your body around to face him and don’t know where to begin.

“What happened? Why are m-my eyes…” you trail off. He starts to take off his sunglasses and chuckles softly, looking down at the ground. He shoots his gaze back up to you and you gasp.

The same golden eyes stare back at you and look even more beautiful. You caress his face, lightly rubbing your thumb across his cheek.

“Oh my God, they’re stunning honey. God, how can you look better than before? What- What does this mean? Is this normal?” You ask.

He smiles at you as he tries to soothe your worries away.

“Shh baby it’s okay. I think it's because… we’re one. In heart and soul, we are one.” He smiles.

•

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kithtaehyung · 2 years

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sundress season (3tan) | myg

drabble: sundress season | chapter: post-anytime pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime rating/genre: m (18+) ; fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: you’re wearing a what. warnings: language, his texts might need their own warning, yoongi on the phone, mentions of sexual acts, this gd outfit note: this takes place between 3tan8 and the upcoming 3tan9. if you haven’t read anytime or any of the three tangerines series yet, i highly recommend reading those first! it will make so much more sense lol note 2: again..... this literally happened bc of this post so it’s everyone’s fault lmaooo.. but since the goal was p big, i didn’t wanna slack on this one, so that’s why it took a bit longer to finish. i hope y’all know how much ily ! starting off the bday month with a bang. mood: wet dreamz - j. cole (sry lol i had to) word count: 4.8k release date: august 13th, 2022, 2:47pm est

“No, dude. Outta your league.”

“Fuck you, Chim.”

“I’m just saying.”

“What do you even mean? Hey, Yoong, look at this.”

Barely having paid attention, Yoongi only gets a bright screen shoved into his face before he retreats with a squint. “The fuck? What.”

“Shit, sorry.” His friend lowers the light before showing at a more acceptable distance, the only thing visible a photo of someone with her friends. “The one in the middle. I got a chance, right?”

It only takes one good look to see that he probably doesn’t. “No.”

“Wow. Both of y’all can fuck off.”

“You asked,” Yoongi points out before taking a sip from his glass, the sounds of multiple conversations bustling around their table.

It’s surprisingly busy for a Monday night, especially on this side of town. But who knows. Maybe this is their normal; he doesn’t come around here often.

Besides, he’s only doing what he was told. Upscale hasn’t really been Yoongi’s thing, but Jimin’s newest way of cheering people up is to drag them to high-end, expensive as fuck restaurants. A bit different from inviting them over for drinks and a smoke.

Tae probably has something to do with this.

Whatever. He’ll deal. Not like he has to eat anything. Frankly, he’ll shock himself if he ends up getting anything other than an overpriced cocktail. “If you really wanna know, just find out on your own.”

“Easy for you to say.”

Beside him, Jimin shrugs. “He’s right, Shiv.”

“That’s because you both—People just—Look. This shit isn’t easy for me.”

As soon as Yoongi says “we know” in tandem with Jimin, he huffs into his drink hearing the latter’s laughter. But this dude has been striking out lately, so he decides to soften the blows. “Just chill. You’ve been trying too hard.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just been rough since we split up.” There’s a big swig before Shiv continues. “Like if being myself caused that, then—”

“Nah, fuck that.” The thick leather of his chair pushes against him as he leans back. “Don’t let that get to you.”

“Just because she left doesn’t mean it was all you,” Jimin tacks on, bottle limp in a few fingers. “Especially when she dipped out of nowhere.”

True.

Yoongi stares into his glass, unblinking as he peers through the dark amber liquid inside. “Exactly. She’s been wanting out for a minute.”

A scoff is all they get. “Is this your way of cheering me up because…” Shiv’s words fade out, but it isn’t until he says something else that his attention is given

“I fucking love summer.”

Huh.

The hell is he looking at?

When Yoongi turns to look, all boredom and sense leaves his body. And everything else leaves his brain.

Because he spots you. Draped in a dress that feeds every goddamn fantasy he’s had since last week—maybe even longer than that.

Fuck.

What are you doing here? Was he always clutching his drink this hard? Shouldn’t he not be looking this long? Why does he frankly not give a fuck if he is or not?

You have to know how attractive you look right now. There’s no way you walked outta that house thinking anything else.

And to think he almost stayed home.

Although, Yoongi’s a little regretful that he didn’t. Because seeing you without being able to do anything else has him on the brink. The edge. An edge he’s fucking close to ignoring because your ass looks even better than he imagined it would.

Goddamn.

You aren’t even doing anything. All you’re doing is waiting to be seated, your entire party talking and occasionally roping you into their conversation.

And he can only stare. Knowing damn well he shouldn’t.

So damn beau—

“Oh, wait. That’s…” His friend that’s still very much present cuts into his thoughts. “Damn. Wait, that’s her? She looks a lot different now.”

Before Yoongi says anything he’d regret, Jimin goads, “Yeah? Different how?”

“Hot.”

The dark, inward laugh that threatens to spill out of Yoongi’s mouth is potent, his tongue shoving all thoughts and responses into his cheek.

Yeah, you’ve certainly matured. And sure, you look hot as fuck right now.

But he guarantees that, above all, it’s your confidence that’s drawing everyone in.

Calm. Unbothered. Staring right at everyone’s eyes as if they’re the most important people in the room.

You’re gonna be someone someday.

And it terrifies him.

Suddenly, Yoongi hears your name leave his best friend’s lips, and it’s taking all of him to hope that you don’t hear him fuck you heard him. So damn loud…

But he laughs to himself in the end.

Because after all this time, you’re still so cute, with your looks of shock that are admittedly some of his favorites.

Especially when he knows the main reason for them. It’s too easy to get a reaction out of you, and he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t fucking love it.

The only thing is: he can’t do anything. Absolutely nothing as you make your way to their table hold up why are you walking over? What the hell are you looking at—

Fucking Park.

Of course.

“Hi,” you address in a sweep, looking even better up close.

To Yoongi’s despair, it’s much easier to see how you accessorized yourself. And how well you fill that damn sundress that he still can’t believe you’re wearing.

Of all the things to see you out in…

Is there someone out to get him? Is this karma for all the shit he’s thought about? Or the way he had you on the phone last night?

He needs to not think about that, either. Not when he’s already dealing with you in the present. There’s no way he can handle both at the same time, especially since he’s already forcing himself to stay the fuck in his seat.

At least he gets you tomorrow.

Wait, isn’t your interview tomorrow? Don’t you have work early, too?

Jimin’s compliment cuts through his realizations as it floats above the table, “You look nice.”

“Thank you!”

“Hello.”

Yoongi gives Shiv a once-over as you turn to greet him, and when you thank the guy for saying you look pretty, he hopes that you don’t face him next.

But you do.

And you give him a greeting that’s much to shy, for his heart does something stupid before he offers his own.

“Didn’t expect to see y’all here,” you comment, thankfully sparking conversation around him instead of with him.

Which is for the best. He probably shouldn’t stare while thinking about how those nails would feel digging into his back. Or how you would react if he pulled you into a stall, one palm clamped over your mouth while the other can’t decide where to start.

Another sinful laugh threatens to spill.

Fuck, how he would ruin you if you let him.

Feigning nonchalance, he takes a slow sip from his glass while his eyes inevitably linger, finally tuning back in when you observe,

“It’s so busy right now.”

“Happy hour. It’s why we’re here,” Jimin responds before pointing at Shiv. “Cheering this guy up.”

“Excuse you?”

God, he can’t do this. Your small, innocent pout is enough to break him down, which should never, ever be the case.

If you ever pull one of those on him…

Nope. He doesn’t wanna know.

In a dumb attempt, Yoongi fishes out his phone as you turn to add your own encouragement. Because of course you would.

“You okay?“

“Yeah. Just a breakup.”

“Oh, damn. I hope you feel better.”

“It’s nothing, sweetheart.”

He pauses.

What did Shiv call you?

The look on your face says it all. Yoongi has to fight his lips from spreading any wider, your sorry attempt to hide your expression way too adorable to ignore.

He’s definitely gonna give you shit for that.

“Well, umm. That’s good,” you offer before looking over a shoulder he wants to kiss. “I should go.”

And Yoongi offers a bye along with the others, clenching his jaw when you walk off because what the fuck.

He might damn near groan.

Forget tomorrow. You need to be bent over his couch right fucking now.

If he were younger, and if you were anyone else, there’s no telling what he would’ve done to you in those bathrooms near the back. Or in his car after he swerved off the road.

But on the same token, there’s another emotion lingering in his chest. Something deeper, fuller, more important than the outright attraction he’s hoping to god isn’t so obvious.

Pride.

How can he have that in someone that isn’t his?

Is that normal? How he feels watching you walk with your chin up and a new sway to your hips?

He’s seen that same walk hundreds—thousands—of times. So why does it seem fresh and brand new when it’s you?

He huffs from his nose before staring into his glass.

Showing you off would be too easy.

Whoever gets to do that better do it right, and often.

“Was that too much again?”

Yoongi lowers his eyes to his phone before scrolling in his lap. “Sounded fine to me,” he lies.

There’s a tinkle of laughs while the guy laments, “I knew it. I’m so bad at this now.”

“You wouldn’t’ve gotten that one anyway,” Jimin chides with one more chuckle. “Let’s keep going.”

Yoongi officially checks out when they discuss other potential matches. Because he may or may not have noticed that your table is easily visible, and he may or may not have decided to not leave you alone just yet.

Not like he’s going anywhere soon.

He can’t even stand up if he needed to anyway.

Tonight is supposed to be a fun, celebratory party for Dom. You put on a nice, comfortable dress, and freshened up more than you have in a long time. Feeling great is an understatement.

But seeing Yoongi throws you off in every which way possible and inside you feel like a wreck.

While you’re delighted that he gets to see you done up, you want nothing more than to mount his lap and ride him until he tears you apart.

Because holy fuck, he looks so fine.

It’s decided. You’re sure of it. The universe is testing you and you haven’t studied a single thing.

Did he have to have his hair like that? Did he have to look the most dressed up you’ve ever seen him? Why did he follow this restaurant’s dress code and not opt for a more casual fit instead?

Just don’t think about it. Any of it. Especially the way his hair would look between your—fuck!

Focus.

Tonight is for Dom.

When everyone situates around a multi-table setup, you tell yourself to not be distracted. Yes, there are a bunch of people—most of which you only semi-know—but you still can’t get too sidetracked by his frame in that suit. By the chains on his neck. By the spread of his—

Stop!

Just try to converse. Be social. At least Reia and Yuri are in front of you.

That’s when you feel a vibration.

And you already know who it’s from.

Attempting to appear normal, it’s a wonder you only choke internally when you view what he said.

Yoongi [8:03pm]: Hey sweetheart :)

Goddamn it.

It’s a struggle to not smile like a fool. Admittedly, you didn’t exactly hold back your expression at the stranger’s forthcomingness. Which is exactly why you’re getting this text.

If you weren’t mistaken, you’re also pretty sure you saw Yoongi react. Which was way too attractive in itself, but you don’t wanna give him even more unspoken praise.

You [8:04pm]: oh my god

You [8:04pm]: was my face that obv

Yoongi [8:05pm]: Lmao

You [8:05pm]: 🥴

Wait.

Why is he texting you now? Aren’t you both in public? Surrounded by people you know?

Yeah, your brother isn’t here, but Mr. Sweetheart could know him.

Then again… What does Yoongi have your contact saved as? Is it your name? Something else? Just your number and no name at all?

There’s still so much you don’t know about him, and it excites you as much as it pains you.

Before you can mull over it more, he keeps the conversation going.

Yoongi [8:07pm]: Afraid he’ll never recover

Well.

If he’s gonna keep texting…

Why not lean into it?

You [8:07pm]: damn

A couple minutes go by without anything, and you’re pulled into a discussion. When a few other moments pass with no texts, you assume that’s the end of your thread.

So much for leaning into it. You definitely spoke too soon.

Probably for the best that it’s already over, though. There’s no telling how future texts would go, with the thrill of him being here and looking like sin.

Fuck, he looks handsome.

And quite frankly, you look pretty decent, too.

Hummingbirds flit about your stomach when you know Yoongi got to see you tonight. Because all the other times he’s seen you, what you’ve worn has mostly been casual. Comfortable. Dalo was the only exception, but you assume neither of you wanna count that night.

You briefly wonder what he thinks about your dress before a road trip talk materializes.

“I haven’t been on one in awhile,” Reia sighs as she places arms on tablecloth.

When Yuri agrees before facing you, you already know what she’s gonna suggest. “We should go. It’s summer!”

“I have work,” you groan, frustration pursing your lips. With this interview also hovering over you, there isn’t much thought you can pour into something like that.

“Boo.”

“No fun!”

“Sorry, y’all.”

Although… You start thinking about how one with—

Another vibration pulses in your lap, and you check to see who it could be.

Yoongi [8:12pm]: Wdy look so cute for?

What.

Huh?

What is he doing!

The other texts were harmless. What the hell is he thinking sending this?

You [8:12pm]: 😳

You [8:12pm]: be serious

Yoongi [8:12pm]: K

You snort when you see the curt reply, knowing that if it was anyone else, you would’ve been mad as hell. But it’s so him that you can’t help but laugh.

At least he came to his senses quick. Gotta stay safe someho—

Yoongi [8:13pm]: Wdy look so fucking hot for?

Fuck!

Your foot abruptly slides forward, shoe clunking against the middle table leg in your shock.

Everyone around you doesn’t notice, but Dom eyes you with a cocked brow from the head of the table. How did she know that was you?

You wave her off before taking a sip of your drink to cool down.

You [8:13pm]: ……..

Yoongi [8:14pm]: :)

Ass!

In your haste to just reply and get this over with, you discover that he can make you flounder even over texts.

You [8:14pm]: don got promoted !!

You [8:15pm]: don*

You [8:15pm]: dom**** fuck

Yoongi [8:16pm]: Lmaooo

Why the hell did you ever respond?

You don’t know how it’s possible, but just his texts are enough to make you sweat. Beneath your dress, both of your legs slowly shift, your thighs rubbing against each other a bit too often.

If anything, Yoongi certainly knows how to compliment someone.

Distraction comes in the form of servers, getting everyone’s orders and gathering menus. A bit thrown by a potential vibration in your lap, you don’t even remember what you got and you hope to everything that it was a relatively cheap option.

More conversation sprouts around the table, and you try to listen to what’s happening on either side. Some are talking about work troubles, others are lamenting the down period for sports. But they’re all lively and let you feel included, just like the one that invited them all.

You feel a little bad when you keep checking your phone, but at least they don’t really know you. To them, it would just look like you’re…

What? Talking to someone you like? Someone you may or may not be seeing?

Where were you going with that?

Glancing down, you do see another text. And its contents affect you just as much as the notification.

Yoongi [8:30pm]: Isn’t your interview tomorrow?

You [8:36pm]: mmhmm. i’m dd🙄

Why are butterflies mingling with the hummingbirds? And why do you feel like smiling like an idiot in front of all these people?

Maybe how last night ended is still staying with you. Because you feel pretty damn good right now, and knowing that you have Yoongi’s attention like this in a public space makes you feel something dangerous.

There’s another reason why you decided on your outfit today. Since you left that part out, you allow yourself to slide another message up, riding this wave as far as it will go.

You [8:39pm]: but yeah it’s sundress season !

Yoongi [8:39pm]: My favorite :)

You [8:41pm]: ofc it is

Yoongi [8:44pm]: 😊

You [8:45pm]: don’t even

Yoongi [8:45pm]: Haha

Yoongi [8:50pm]: But I’m serious. You look nice.

That’s where it should end.

A natural close.

Just say thank you and move on.

…But what if you do something else?

Be it the thrill of doing this in a public space, or the fact that you want to jump his bones right now, you don’t know. There’s just a tiny flame you see in his words that you want to stoke.

So you do.

You [8:55pm]: how nice

Of course, you sometimes forget who you’re dealing with.

Because your plan completely backfires when his response comes way too quick.

Yoongi [8:56pm]: Meet me in a stall and I’ll tell you

What the fuck!

You can’t even pick at your food. Not when he’s giving you plenty to choke on already.

You [8:56pm]: ????

You [8:56pm]: here?(?

He’s not serious, is he? No.

Even if he was, that would be crossing multiple lines. Texting is already pushing it, but it would be glaringly obvious if the both of you were absent from your tables for too long.

Yoongi [9:01pm]: I’m kidding

Yoongi [9:01pm]: But I’d be down

You [9:05pm]: no !!

Yoongi [9:06pm]: You don’t wanna? :((

God.

You hate how much you like this side of him. Or maybe this is just him, and you still can’t believe that you get to witness him in his natural, lethal state.

If you told yourself from a year ago that things would come to this, you wouldn’t have believed it for a second.

But if you also told yourself that you’d grow in ways you didn’t even consider, you wouldn’t have believed that, either.

You [9:10pm]: i do

You [9:10pm]: but i’d rather go home with you..

Looking back, much has changed.

But when you glance over to see him lift his eyes your way, your heartbeat concludes that some things will always stay the same.

You don’t ever think you’ll get over him.

Which is fine, because you don’t want to.

Yoongi [9:11pm]: You don’t want that lol

Huh.

Of all the responses that he could’ve sent, that certainly wasn’t the choice you were expecting. Cocking a brow at your screen, you respond.

You [9:12pm]: i do🥺

Yoongi [9:13pm]: Promise you don’t

You [9:13pm]: why not?

What the heck does he—

You hear your name being called, and it takes all of you to not react like you’ve been busted. “Hmm?”

“The party’s this Friday, right?”

“Yeah.”

“See,” Dom directs to one of her friends. “Busy.”

A small smile is offered on your end before impatience ropes you back to your phone. You’re sure the song that’s playing above your head is nice, and you can guess that the giggles in front of you are about Rohan.

But your full attention is on an answer you’re zero percent positive about.

What the hell does Yoongi mean? And why is he so damn enticing even over texts?

Yoongi [9:14pm]: Just cus

Enticing, your ass!

You [9:15pm]: wow

Yoongi [9:15pm]: :)))

It’s like that, huh…

This guy is something else.

Questioning why you started texting him in the first place, you put your phone down to take a few more sips. Because you’re thirsty. Certainly not to cool yourself down.

Right.

“Damn, where’s our dessert?”

“I was wondering.”

Now that people mention it, you agree. It’s been quite awhile since you all ordered, and you feel a bit bad that your party is so big. Damn Dominique and her brilliant way of gaining friends and keeping them.

She looks positively radiant as she tells another work story, and you laugh a little when you know exactly which one it is.

Not many people can say they had a tough conversation with their CEO and came out unscathed. But when you save your company a bunch of time and money, no one can really do anything except let it slide.

Well, and promote you. Which is why all of you were invited to a place like this.

What would she tell you to do now? How would she tell you to respond?

Probably to press the man for an answer.

Following sound advice that you manufactured, you go back to your device and start typing.

You [9:22pm]: tell me🥺

He probably won’t, given his stupid, short track record. But damn it, you wanna know!

The only solace you get from minutes of no texts is that you can always hound him tomorrow. You know exactly where to poke him to make him flinch, after all.

Yoongi [9:27pm]: Can’t. Heading out now :)

Oh.

Forget poking.

The both of you are gonna fight.

You [9:29pm]: RUDE???

You [9:30pm]: ok🙄

After you slip your phone back into your bag, you turn just in time to see him walking away with the others. When he playfully shucks Jimin off at the exit, you wonder if it has something to do with you.

You blink.

Why do you feel so… peaceful? Like life is okay and there isn’t anything that can bother you except the man strolling out the door? It’s such a serene feeling that you feel like smiling for no reason.

For the first time in a long while, the sky in your mind is spotless.

Thunderclouds can’t be seen for miles, and there lies an abundance of soft grass and flowers at your toes—a stark difference from the thick, muddy sludge you’ve been trudging through for days. Weeks. Months.

And something else drapes over you like a warm blanket, a feeling from the night that you kissed under moonlight. Another time Yoongi blatantly disregarded where you were and simply did what he wanted.

You craft the scene from memory, staring and realizing that those two have no clue what they’ll go through in the coming days. How the uncertainty between them is going to wither and fade, bit by beautiful bit.

And then you leave them alone.

You join the present with newfound tranquility. Everything around you rings clear, from the voices around the table to the clinks of glasses around the restaurant. The summer breeze announces its presence through open windows, and you wonder if it’s been trying to get your attention for awhile now.

Everything’s good.

Observing a decorative clock on the wall you never noticed before, you can’t believe that you’ve been texting Yoongi for over an hour. In public.

If only you could sit next to him next time. Or maybe even…

A text comes through.

And you figure that things are fine as they are now.

Yoongi [9:40pm]: So are you 🤕

Shit, you know you’re beaming but you honestly can’t help it. You truly didn’t know he’d like your outfit this much, and this new information makes you feel more than a bit dizzy.

Suddenly shy, you text back and hope he sees it when not being orbited by his friends.

Dessert finally arrives a couple minutes later, and it isn’t until ten minutes after that when you get a reply.

You [9:42pm]: i wish i knew you liked them. i have a lot.

Yoongi [9:55pm]: Show me sometime

Ah.

You intend to.

You [9:57pm]: if you behave🥴

Yoongi [9:59pm]: Haaaaa

The giggle you let out is the one that gets you caught.

You raise your eyes to Yuri and Reia, the two of them giving you smug as fuck looks. “Huh.”

“You’re so gone, dude.”

“I told you!”

Swatting their comments down, you give them sheepish lips before muttering, “Shut up.”

“You are!”

“Why didn’t you invite him!”

“She wants to keep him to herself, look at her.”

“Stop!” you playfully grit. “I told you, we aren’t a thing.”

“Bullshit.”

“But you’re married?”

You outright groan through a grin, feeling bashful and elated and giddy all at once as you laugh with them right after.

“Go on, keep sexting your man.”

“I’m not!”

“Sure you aren’t.”

“Uh huh.”

When they mercifully let you go, you chuckle to yourself before texting back your reply, thrums of doves invading your stomach when he immediately responds.

You [10:05pm]: jk. i will☺️

Yoongi [10:06pm]: Thank fuck

It should be a crime how attracted you are to this man.

Well, no.

That isn’t the real issue. While attraction and lust are certainly problems, they aren’t the feelings you’re really worried about.

Yoongi [10:08pm]: Have fun doll

The scarier feelings are the ones you have to sequester to the innermost parts of your heart. Because your finish line seems a bit too much in reach right now, and you don’t wanna trip right before you can cross it.

You [10:08pm]: see you tomorrow<33

As soon as you click your phone shut, your head shakes with a tiny smile.

Because somehow, seeing him makes you more nervous than your interview does.

And you’re determined to make the most of both.

—

You can’t.

You can’t leave this alone.

What did Yoongi mean? What did he have on his mind?

After everyone’s made their way to the standing bar, you sneak away to lock yourself in a stall. Inhaling, you ring him up, hoping that Jimin or the other guy aren’t around.

Thankfully, he answers.

“You okay?”

“I wanna know.”

“Huh?”

Your voice comes out in a whisper, even though you know you’re alone. “What you would do. If you could’ve taken me home.”

The soft chuckle on the line makes you weak.

“You’re in the bathroom, huh.”

“Maybe so.”

“Adorable.”

“You’re stalling.”

“Maybe so.”

“Yoo—”

Suddenly, some people walk through the door, the sounds of the restaurant a lot louder for a few seconds. After perking up, you realize it’s some of Dom’s friends.

Do you think they’ll care? Would they even know who you’re talking to?

Have any of them been with Yoongi before?

It’s that one stupid question that convinces you to keep quiet.

“Mm. Can’t talk?”

“I—” Your voice is hushed. “Yeah.”

“Poor baby.”

Ugh!

You almost think about hanging up on him, but the deep, knowing laugh that strokes your ear renders you useless.

“I’d blow your fuckin’ back out, doll.”

Fuck.

Breaths turn ragged in a second. Vision is somehow blurred.

You weren’t ready. Fucking hell, you were not prepared.

“Make you sit on my face until you come.”

You almost moan his name, and you have to press a palm against your mouth to keep it in.

“Is that what the baby girl wants?”

“Yes,” you whisper, impossibly small and undoubtedly hoarse.

”What was that?”

“I said fuck you,” you grit a tad louder, lowering your phone volume when Yoongi outright laughs through your speaker.

“Please do. But get your pretty ass back out there.”

Why the fuck is he so perfect?

Sighing, you shudder out before obliging. “Okay.”

“And good luck tomorrow.”

It’s not the interview you’re worried about anymore. While you feel prepared for that, you don’t feel ready for what’s to come after it in the slightest. “I’m more nervous to see you.”

For some reason, Yoongi chuckles again. And you don’t have a damn clue know why.

“Don’t say that.”

Why not? “It’s true.”

“Always so cute.”

Well, you figure you’ll find out either way tomorrow.

Maybe you’ll think of some preemptive revenge, as well.

“Bye, babe.”

“See you soon.”

Everything goes silent again, only the ambiance of the bar and the music in the speakers accommodating the space.

When you stare at your dark screen, you realize a few things.

One, you’re alone again. Two, you call him babe way too easily.

And three?

Whether in secret or not.

You’re seeing someone.

For real.

And it’s Min fucking Yoongi.

tbc.

A/N: DID YALL SEE HIS SELFIES TODAY?? HOW TF DID HE KNOW HE’D LOOK FANCY.. anyways, i dunno what else i can say other than this is hopefully a part that was worth waiting for! i’m just glad i could swing it between anytime and 3tan9. did i expect for it to be this big? no lol. but i figured that i would spoil y’all. it’s bday month! i’m feeling pretty good, what can i say skfjlshf but seriously, i love you all so much and i hope this was okay! A/N 2: this is not the end of sundress scenarios >:))) so stay ready ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ ⇥ masterlist

#HI HELLO ITS HERE #bts #bts fic #bts imagines #bts reactions #yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #bangtanbathhouse #bangtansorciere #houseofddaeng #btshoneyhive #*ryenfictalk #*ryenwrites #*latest #3tan8.5 #oh my goodness i hope this was worth it LOL

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gabessquishytum · 4 months

Note

I can't tell you how much I loved the Cow!Hob Cat!Dream fic!

I have further thots about that au.

Hob becoming Dream's emotional support cow. Dream was already a pretty good king. It's clear that he tries to do what's best for his kingdom and wants to protect his people. But he's also pretty clearly not comfortable with social situations. Having Hob is helping with that, though. When things get to be too much his precious milk cow suggests that he looks like he needs something to drink and coaxes him off to the side for a little bit of quiet to allow him to have some fresh milk from his teat while he pets Dream's hair and nuzzles him and it just helps ground his new king and gives him a breather so he can get his spoons back together and get back to things.

Also, Hob is very social and likes to meet people so Dream takes him out fairly frequently and that also gives him a chance to see how his kingdom is doing up close. He'd also be lying if he didn't enjoy showing off his lovely dairy cow. He always makes sure that Hob is decked out in beautiful robes that leave his chest bare, and that he's draped in jewels and finery that highlights all of his assets. Dream's kingdom is known for it's fine quality rubies that are mined from the mountains and the king takes great pleasure in making sure that Hob is dripping in them every time foreign dignitaries come to call.

Hob also just likes to be out in the sun. It's relaxing for him and as such Dream has developed a taste for fucking him senseless in lovely fields of flowers. And Hob has never been so well fed and cared for. He is insanely loyal to the King of Cats and is extremely proud to be his pampered pet. It's also feeding pretty hard into his exhibitionism kink and he doesn't think he's ever been as horny and well fucked either.

Yay, I'm so glad you enjoyed cow!Hob. I'm hoping there will be at least one more chapter!

I love the idea of Hob being like a combination of a fidget toy and a really soothing plushie for Dream to squeeze and cuddle when his duties get tiring. Its amazing how rubbing his cheek on Hob’s soft tummy and getting a few mouthfuls of milk will make him feel better. All the courtiers and even foreign ambassadors are so grateful for Hob’s existence, because he can calm Dream down from the most boiling rage! Hob has recieved many gifts from grateful people who are like "thank you for making sure the king didn't scratch my eyes out". Who knew that a docile, ordinary milk cow could have such skills in diplomatic relations?

And Hob being out in the sunshine and enjoying nature!! <3333 he loves rolling in the soft grass (naked) while Dream watches and swoons over how pretty he is. Dream swears he can taste the sunshine in the milk that Hob makes for him. He wants to lay there surrounded by sunflowers, hand feeding a massive punnet of strawberries to his beloved cow. Alas he has duties to attend to. But Hob will be there at the end, ready to snuggle up to Dream and present a leaking teat for him to suckle. Life is so much better with a pretty pet cow to love and dote on <333 and of course Hob always makes sure that his king has time to fuck him at the end of the day. He wouldn't want Dream to miss out on his soft, wet little hole. And the more he's fucked and fed and loved, the more he'll be able to provide for his King! It's a perfect cycle, and Hob can't wait to spend his whole life fulfilling his purpose: making delicious milk for his beloved Dream.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #catboys #cw lactation

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writingforatwistedworld · 1 year

Note

For Vil: H, I, J, please! I’m very interested in the Housewarden’s mindset as a yandere

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, manipulation, imprisonment, murder, poison, unhealthy relationship

H, I, J

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Being put on a way too high pedestal

It’s not like Vil would do this on purpose

It’s actually the oppesite

He praises you constantly, telling you how perfect you are

It’s nice and all when your partner tells you that they love every single part about you but nothing comes close to the extent Vil does

For a normal person like you it is absolutely impossible to be what he envisions that you are

And when you tell him that this is too much he is going on and on how humble you are

Safe to say you will never be able to climb this mountian

Vils fans

Many of them understand that Vil is also just another human being who wants some love in his life

And then there are also like “DON’T TOUCH MY VI-VI!”

To be fair, Vil also dislikes those fans a lot but there isn’t much he can do

So he does try to keep your relationship private but there is only so much someone like him can do

If you didn’t have the same experience as the NRC cast (aka meeting your vessel Yuu, getting to know you through Yuu) it can be a bit hard to figure out at first glance that you are the Overseer

So even that isn’t necessary some sort of protection for you

Just avoid crowds and learn how to make yourself look like someone else entirely with make-up

Vils fretting over you

“OH MY GOODNESS IS THAT A PAPERCUT??!”-Vil Schoenheit, model with 5 million followers

To say that he is always worried would be an understatement

He just wants to make sure you are always taken care of, ok?

Well guess who isn’t so thrilled about that? Ding ding ding! Ten points for the right answer! You

I’m not talking about a few minutes of attentio. I’m talking about him coming back to Pomefiore and then it starts for the entire rest of the day

And it’s not like you can tell him that it’s too much

That would be just rude and we also don’t want to know what happen if you ever were to take that “privilege” away from him

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

A “normal” relationship

You know, getting registered on the paper, being able to go out with you, yada yada

Sadly he is not able to enjoy this at the moment since he has to shield you from the more problematic part of his following

Why the “ “?

Well because in that vision you are not really having any contact to anyone besides him

Unconscious manipulation is also a normal thing, the world is evil you know? Only he is on your side

Maybe if you ask nicely he will get you a goldfish or somethign like that. You know, to talk to

One where he isn’t interrupted

At the moment the young model still has to study and also take care of his more or less dormant career

So “sadly” to your joy he can’t be there all the time

If worst would come to worst he would step down from his job

He has so much money he could probably pay easily for everything Ruggies family needs for fifty years

Man just wants to spend every minute of his life with you

Whether you want it or not does not matter

One in which you love him enough for him to stop feeding you secretly potions

Have you ever wondered why you are still here with him even though he is so overbearing?

Well congrats! You just broke through the effects of one of Vils potions

He hates it, ok? He hates it to always tiptoe around you so he can put it in your drinks

Vil thinks he has no chance with you, perfection itself, so he sees no other way but to cheat a bit

So the next time you see him with a heartbroken look on his face you know what he just did

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Easily jealous

I would like to remind you that he has a background as an actor

This means you won’t even know that he is jealous… until it’s too late

The sight of others being around you, looking at you, being close to you, potentially taking his spot besides you

It makes his blood boil

If he didn’t have a reputation to uphold he would have fed all of them apples a long time ago, and those do not keep doctors away

If you look really close and are Rook you might see his muscles being a little more tense than usual so… Nah, no way you can spot this sign early enough

Bettering himself

Vils jealousy stems from a place of fear

What if you were to find someone better than him?

So he takes it out on himself… and a teeny tiny bit on you

He wakes up earlier, runs longer in the morning, sees something ugly in something totally normal

You know, the unhealthy stuff

With him raising his standards for himself he also raises his for you

Suddenly that papercut isn’t just a papercut (to which he already reacts way too much) but a stab wound in your side

He goes from mother hen to Bridezilla before a wedding… just in a caretaker sense

Snapping

If you don’t see the signs even then he will snap

Full on reenactment of Snow White

No need to worry why he gave you that apple. It’s good for your health!

Two seconds before catastrophe struck

So whilst you lay there, your vision going dark, you can still see his visage torn by a unnatural wide smile

If he can’t have you no one can

And if eternal sleep is the only solution to you never leaving him then so be it!

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 2 months

Text

Part 23

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 22 🟣 Part 24

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Fluff, ongoing vampire shenanigans, a little ace-angst...

Word count: 2k

A/N: More vampire feels for everyone!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie @plaidcat4815 @wa-ni (Fucking dumblr won't let me tag y'all)

“Darling, can you come to the kitchen for a moment?” Sherlock asked calmly. You rounded the corner and looked at them suspiciously — the way they were all sitting around the kitchen table with serious looks on their faces made the whole thing… just kind of sus.

“Did someone die?” you asked as you joined them at the table. This was not a nice way to spend your time after the lovely shower you’d just taken.

“Oh, no! Nothing of the sort,” Sherlock reassured you. That was comforting, at least.

“We just wanted to ask you…” August started, only to be interrupted by a very excited Mike.

“We want to take a little trip!”

“In fact,” Sherlock clarified, “we would love for you to spend the summer with us… with our family.”

“You mean,” you replied slowly, “I’d get to meet the others?”

“Yes,” August answered. “There’s only two of them, no worries.” You had been wondering how big their coven was, and it was nice to hear there weren’t too many introductions to be made.

“And one of them would be Charles, correct?” It was more or less a guess, but an educated one.

“Yes. There’s a chance my brother will show up — it is quite a nice house we have…”

“Then why live here?” If they had a nice house somewhere, then why did they share this apartment?

“Sherlock moved here to teach, Mike moved here to go to college,” Marshall answered.

Mike interrupted again: “Marshall missed me too much.” You raised your eyebrows and rolled your eyes, but Marshall chuckled and shook his head.

“He’s not lying,” he said. “It took me nearly a century to be able to live apart from Sherlock. What Mike neglects to mention is that he missed me, too.”

“Did not!” Mike faux-protested. “I only called him up on the verge of crying three or four times a week!”

“At the risk of sounding completely insensitive… What? Why?” you wondered.

“We suspect it’s a way to protect new vampires, and people,” Sherlock explained. “The very young ones can be unpredictable. It’s not as much of a problem these days; there are special feeding programs for juveniles — they feed more often for the first year or so… Anyway, before feeding became legal the way it is now, it was important that youngsters learned to… well, to be quite frank about it, they had to learn to not kill everyone they bit.”

“A hungry young vampire left unattended can — and will — kill a grown man in about three minutes,” August helpfully added. “Supervision was very necessary.”

“Especially during those times when secrecy was of utmost importance,” Sherlock continued. “One wrong move… It can be tricky to gain full control over the new levels of strength and speed.”

“Not to mention those damn fangs,” Mike noted. “Just getting the bite right is tricky in the beginning.”

“You don’t just… bite?” you asked.

“When we’re close to you, princess,” August said with a strange smirk, “we can feel every vein in your body.” Did that have to sound so… ominous? “That’s the easy part. The hard part is aiming. It makes sense to have someone teach you.”

“Most of us feed exclusively on their… let’s say ‘mentor’, for the first six months,” Marshall added. “Then, by the time they move on to human blood, they’ll have something resembling restraint. Usually.” He glared at Mike.

“Okay, my first human was not a success, but…”

“It was a disaster, Mike,” Marshall said, rolling his eyes.

“He didn’t… you didn’t… right?” You could only hope they understood what you were trying to ask.

“No, she was fine. But it was a bloodbath,” Marshall grumbled. “A waste of perfectly good food.”

“Says the one with the knife kink…” you blurted out.

“I wouldn’t have dreamed of wasting a drop of blood back then. Remember that feeding was mostly illegal during that time,” Marshall reminded you. “I almost lost a very willing volunteer that night.”

“How did that conversation even go? ‘Hello, would you mind if my intern performed the procedure today?’” Everyone laughed.

“Something like that,” Marshall said eventually. “I told Manu — her name was Manuela — I had a friend, someone like me… She jumped at the chance to be his first human.”

“She was great,” Mike remembered. “Very solid about the pain…”

“She got off on the pain, genius,” Marshall laughed.

“I know that,” Mike sighed. “But even then. Stop making me look like an idiot, I know you know what I mean!”

“The difference between enjoying the bite and enjoying the aftermath of the bite,” August guessed — and judging from the looks on Mike and Marshall’s faces, he was correct.

“Sherlock?” He was gone. Suddenly. Not that that was so strange for him — you knew what he could do — but to leave like that, without warning?

“He’s in his room,” the guys said at the same time.

Of course, you were the last one to reach the door — but the first one to knock.

“Come in,” Sherlock said reluctantly, and you opened his bedroom door. “I’m sorry I disappeared.”

“What’s going on?” you asked, sitting down on his bed, and reaching for him in a silent plea for him to join you. He did, wrapping an arm around your shoulders almost painfully tightly.

“I remember this time so very differently,” he whispered. “Many… volunteers, back in the day, were exactly as they describe. But many weren’t simply in it for the pain…”

“I mean, of course there was a sexual edge to it for many of them, but…” Mike’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Right. Shit…”

“It was particularly difficult to find volunteers willing to forego the…”

“Boinking,” Mike suggested.

Sherlock looked up at him. “You can’t possibly think that would have been my choice of words, Mike.”

“Fine, amorous congress, better?”

“Marginally,” Sherlock chuckled. “Even the ones who seemed content with such an arrangement at first often became bored with the lack of…”

“Boinking,” Mike said again. “Ow! Joke, people. Joke!” He rubbed the back of his head, where August had hit him.

“What did you do?” you asked, both concerned and curious.

“I had to eat,” he answered plainly. “There weren’t too many options. Telling people what I was, was dangerous enough in and of itself. I simply viewed the” — his eyes shot up to look at Mike for a second — “intercourse as payment for the service rendered. I should add that, during this phase of my life, I was far more repulsed by the concept of sexual activity than I am now.”

“That… changes?” you asked carefully.

“There is some fluidity to it, yes,” he replied quietly. “Completely involuntary and ungovernable, of course.” He sighed. “So far, the height of my interest in physical relations has been the willingness to please a trusted romantic partner. Which is not a state in which I find myself at this current time — regrettably, I might add. I’m sorry.”

Was he apologizing? “You are not apologizing to me for being who you are, Sherlock,” you said sternly. “I swear I’ll have one of them kick you!” You gestured at the others.

“I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not enough for you,” he whispered.

“Look at me,” you said, placing your hand on the side if his face. “You are more than enough for me. Our relationship is… whole. It’s not lacking, it’s not incomplete, it’s everything it’s supposed to be.”

“If that were true,” he said, “you wouldn’t have wondered why we weren’t sleeping together.”

“Oh, good God,” you sighed. “That was because of some misaligned expectations on my part, and you know it, Holmes! If you desperately want to apologize for something, apologize for not managing those expectations sooner.”

He gave you a kind smile that was unable to hide the pain in his eyes, and took your hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “I still wish it were different.”

“Well, I don’t ,” you snapped. “Because I love you. Now, tell me more about this trip we’re taking, please.” You threw an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. “Who is this mysterious coven member I’ve never heard any of you talk about? And are my, ehm… services expected to be extended to them? I mean, I—”

“No,” August snarled unexpectedly aggressively. He calmed down slightly when Marshall put a hand on his chest. “No,” he said again, this time whispering so softly you could barely hear him. Now, August having a strained relationship with Charles wasn’t exactly news to you, but even then, this reaction seemed a bit extreme…

“August, I know you don’t like him much, but we both know the most likely scenario,” Marshall replied to August’s outburst.

“And what is the most likely scenario?” Mike fidgeted with his own fingers, clearly nervous.

“That I will want to,” you said without thinking. “That’s it, right? What everyone is thinking? That I’ll want to feed them?”

Sherlock nodded slowly. “Though the agreed upon parameters of out contract do not extend to them, and you will not be responsible for keeping them alive.”

“So, by all means,” August hissed, “refuse him service.”

“August,” Sherlock warned, and to your surprise, August relaxed immediately. “Play nice.” There was an edge to his voice, almost a kind of buzz. The words felt fuzzy in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“Remember the hierarchy, love?” Marshall reminded you.

“Right…” You’d almost forgotten about that — probably because Sherlock never really pulled rank — just like you’d forgotten about the fact that…

“You can boss us around too, princess,” August said with a smile. “Although I’m quite glad you… don’t.” At least not to him…

“Mystery coven member, guys!” you reminded them of your other question.

“Ah, right,” Sherlock said with a smile. “He is the man who turned me and Charles, nearly a millennium ago. His name is Melot.”

“He’s close to, what? 1400 years old now?” Mike asked, more than said.

“Give or take,” August shrugged. “It doesn’t come down to the century once you start talking about those kinds of numbers.”

“His history is interesting, but you’ll have to ask him about it,” Marshall said before you could voice any of the questions that popped into your mind. “Pack your bags, love.”

“Don’t you have to, like… call them? Let them know we’re coming? Or did you guys plan this whole trip without ever letting me know?” It wouldn’t have surprised you, but you would have had a thing or two to say about it, for sure.

“He knows we’re coming,” August said plainly. Why was he suddenly holding your suitcase? “Anything already in here stays in here.”

You glared at him, getting up off the bed and closing the distance between you with a single step. “August Walker, you… you…”

“Use your words, princess.” He grinned, and you caught a hint of his fangs. It was infuriating.

And then you felt it.

Heat. Strength. Power.

“You insolent jackass,” you growled. “If you know everything so well, then why don’t you pack up the rest of my stuff. And you had better get it right the first time.”

A low growl escaped him before he disappeared from the room, and the strange feeling disappeared.

“Wow,” you said. “Never thought I could actually make August my bitch…”

“You may have won the battle, darling,” Sherlock said. An amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “But I doubt you’ll win the war.”

“I, for one, doubt you’ll be able to sit when he’s through with you,” Mike chuckled. “He wanted to spank the shit out of you as soon as he sensed the shift, but he couldn’t. Because hierarchy…”

“You did nothing wrong, love,” Marshall, as always, managed flawlessly to put your unspoken panic at ease. “If anything, I’d say he had it coming.”

“I’ll talk you through the etiquette during the flight,” Sherlock chuckled, no longer trying to hide his smile. “You’ll learn to control it, eventually.”

“Okay hold on for one teeny tiny little moment there,” you said. “What do you mean by ‘during the flight’? Where the hell are we going?”

“Home.” Mike said with a big smile.

#mike hellraiser fic #mike hellraiser #mike (hellraiser)#hellraiser mike #mike hellraiser fanfiction #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #walter marshall #hc sherlock #henry cavill sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes #august walker #august walker fanfiction #natural fic #naturalfic

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book-girl4eva · 17 days

Text

Hehe so... I wrote something

Running - Bea

Word count: 1500+

Genre: au, fluffy I think?

Run, go, don’t look back.

That's what Arudhanti Shah had learned. The last thing she had been taught. The rules all thieves should follow, if you had asked her. Take what you came for, leave, don’t look back. And if they came after you? You should know how to sprint, or hide, or throw a punch.

Or - Aru’s personal favourite - lie. It was one of her strongest skills, even if she did say so herself. She could convince a man that he was secretly a prince, or a woman that she was secretly cursed. She had once convinced someone that she hadn’t taken their gold - how could a 9 year old child, a girl nonetheless, do something like that? - and then walked away with enough coins to feed her for a fortnight.

To be fair to them, Aru wasn't your average 9-year-old. For one thing, most 9-year-olds had homes. Friends. Families. The extent of Aru's family was a chicken she'd kidnapped and named Vajra. Most 9-year-olds had full bellies and bed-time stories and shoes that didn't leave their heels dangling out. Aru told herself stories, if that counted? Most 9-year-olds had a mother or father to watch over them. The closest thing Aru had to that was a bracelet that used to belong to her mother. Most 9-year-olds were loved.

Most…

Did Aru feel regret for stealing? For lying? For taking things that didn’t belong to her? No. She’d done what she’d had to do to survive. She lived one misstep away from starving for the past five years. So what if someone missed their fur coat? Aru would have missed being alive a lot more. All the pompous brats who were her usual targets had basically been begging her to take their stuff, leaving around so openly; most deserved it, the way they acted like they were above everyone. In fact, it was a chance to put those morons in their place, to show them a fraction of what Aru had felt. Plus, once she’d taken whatever she’d set her sights on, it was hers! Problem solved.

So Aru had never regretted thieving. Not until him.

The boy had looked about her age, maybe slightly older, but he had clearly never been in her position. His clothes fitted him for one thing, and his thick, dark hair, while not neat, was clean and tidy enough. He looked well fed, his warm golden skin clean and glowing in the sunlight. When compared with her loose, thin trousers, her threadbare dress, her tangled hair and her tawny skin covered in dust, he may as well have been a prince! But his eyes were… different. They were dark, flecked with gold and seemed to hold a deep, weary sadness. But that wasn’t what caught Aru’s attention.

It was the paint set next to him.

Aru wasn’t an artist. She’d never done anything artistic as far as she could remember. But what she did know was that stuff like that was expensive. And if it was expensive, it could and would be stolen.

She hesitated for a moment, looking at the boy. He looked so lonely, it almost reminded her of herself…

Aru shook herself. Now was not a good time to get nostalgic. So, with a quick breath, she darted out, snatched up the art set and ran.

It only took the boy a second to realise what had happened. “What was- Hey get back here!” she heard him call after her. Aru ignored him and carried on sprinting.

Run, go, don’t look back.

Aru knew most of the backstreets quite well - she’d spent the majority of her life in them. Her city may have been bright on its face, with its drapes of cobalt blue and stunning silver, its market packed with fruits of every colour, scent, and size, its charming houses almost sparkling in the sun. But behind the curtain, it was a dark, riddled mess that dulled all colours to a greyish brown. A mess anyone could get lost in, even a girl who knew it better than anyone. And of course today was the day she took a wrong turn.

The boy, in an attempt to get his art set back, had followed her down the streets, and right into a dead end. It was only then Aru realised just how much taller, stronger, and healthier he was than her. She muttered something she’d heard a merchant say when their stool collapsed.

For some reason, the boy looked more anxious than she did. He kept shifting his feet, straightening out his already ironed shirt and looking over his shoulder, as if he was about to get jumped by bandits. Definitely not used to this part of the city, Aru noted. Maybe she could use it.

“Hi,” he started, with a slight tremor in his voice, “Can I have my paints back?”

“No.” Aru fixed him with a stony gaze.

“Why not?”

Aru didn’t reply and instead continued to glare at him. Hesitantly, he tried to grab the kit from her hand. She jumped away.

“Take a step closer and… I’ll punch you. Hard. On the nose.” Aru warned.

Lie. And a boring one at that. Aru couldn’t punch anyone - she’d burnt her knuckles on a pan the other day and it hadn’t recovered yet - and punching wasn’t an interesting attack anyway.

It was enough to make the boy retreat though. “Please can I have it back?” He smiled sadly at her, probably to try and gain her trust. As pretty as his face was, it wasn’t enough to persuade her or her empty stomach.

“No.” Aru told him, adding a “sorry,” under her breath.

“Please? My dad’s gone on a trip - he does trips a lot - but this time he’s taking forever to get back and that’s the last thing he gave me before he left us, so I still need it, at least until he finishes whatever he’s doing. And I’m getting really good, at painting i mean, and,” he took a deep, shaky breath. “I just can't go home without it, please?” He looked at Aru with so much hope it almost broke her.

“I-I can’t. I need this,” she continued speaking so as not to look at him, “I need to feed myself. And Vajra.”

His voice shook worse than before “Oh. In that case,” he turned, rubbing his face briskly.

And then it hit her. The guilt. Aru never had it usually, but suddenly it felt as if she was swimming in a coat lined with stones.

Run, go, don’t look back

But Aru couldn’t run from guilt, not like she did everything else. No, guilt was the sort of thing that only got stronger with the chase. She had to live with it. Face it.

And she really didn’t want to.

“Hey! Um, kid!” Aru yelled after the boy as he walked away.

“Kid? I’m about the same age as you!” His tearstained face shifted to a frown.

“Well, what should I call you then?”

“My name.”

“Which is?”

“Aiden,” he looked at Aru, meeting her eyes. “Aiden Acharya,”

Aru was the first to break eye contact. She took a deep breath, and spoke before she could reconsider. “Well Aiden Acharya, you can have your paints back.”

“Really?” Aiden Acharya’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah,” Aru said, trying not to sigh. She would have to skip a couple of meals, but at least she wouldn't have to carry all the guilt around with her.

“I… Thank you!” He eagerly took the set from her, pressing something in her palm and embracing the art set to his chest, before smiling shyly at her. “What’s your name?”

Aru looked at the boy in front of her. Aiden Acharya. Maybe they could be friends. Maybe they could understand each other. Maybe…

Run, go, don’t look back.

Aru ran past Aiden, faster this time so he couldn’t follow. She ignored his shouts, his questions. She kept on sprinting until she was sure she'd gone far enough, before checking what he’d placed in her hand.

A… watch, apparently. It had a pretty basic face, with sea green symbols and hands and a faded engraving on the back. Aru could make out a few letters (-ce–ak-s, it looked like) but it looked pretty rubbed. It looked like it had been intricate once, but time had worn away any finery. Still, it was pretty. Aru was about to slip it into her pocket before noticing the chain that was connected to it. Her eyes widened. The chain was platinum. Actual real platinum, she could tell by the markings. Aru let out a breathy laugh. Platinum was worth at least double the paint's value! She could get 2 weeks worth of food, maybe even some sweets… her mouth watered at the idea.

She darted out of the shadows, in the direction of the market. As she slipped the watch off the chain and pocketed it, she let a single thought cross her mind before sprinting away.

Thanks, Aiden Acharya, she said to herself, before vanishing into the crowds.

Sooo i might continue it into a proper thing... Should I?

#bea updates #bea writes #tpq #aru shah #writer

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blindbatalex · 2 months

Text

bruins fic rec list 💛🖤

after 4+ years I've recently found my way back to hockey -- and hockey rpf -- which has meant that I had so much fic to catch up on, because man, you guys can write. here are some of my recent favourites, listed in alphabetical order, with one cheeky self-rec thrown in.

feast season by @sphesphe. swaymark, 5,963 words. 5+1 with ully hand feeding sway food. as with any story by sphe the characterisation and the language are spot on in this one, sway as the pov character is a delight to read, and sphe possesses a singular talent in taking food sharing to hitherto unknown levels of hotness.

finally i feel like i have a home here by @fvcking-damage. marcheron, 21,257 words. an au fic, in which bergy, who is trying to get his life back together after a bad break-up meets brad, a photographer, on a chance encounter late one night and it goes from there. hands down one of the favourite fics i've read in any fandom. every character is written with so much care and depth the healing the story affords them without dismissing their heartbreak is sublime. simply a masterpiece.

Funny That You Mention It by @thebluejayawe. marcheron, 7,531 words. marchy realises that bergy is going to propose - things spiral from there. this is a rollercoaster of a fic which grabs you by the throat and does not let you go until the last word. it is such refreshing take on bergy and marchy's relationship, and marchy is a revelation in this story. his insecurities and love and anger - it's all done to perfection.

like a stranger by yours truly. marcheron, 13,142 words. bergy was the person brad wanted by his bedside any time he was injured or sick -- except now bergy is retired and things haven't been the same between them in some time. what can i say? i am still trying to process bergy's retirement and i'm a hoe for the way ppl can grow apart and find their way back to one another.

they must have been leafs fans by @dragongirl180. marcheron, 9,704 words. brad is missing and there remains little hope of finding him with each passing day. beside himself, Patrice makes a impulsive decision to buy a pet rat. an absolute delight of a story. bergy's anguish at having lost marchy is written so vividly it comes alive off the page and you read it and think -- yes, this is exactly how it would go if marchy was turned into a rat via some hockey magic.

Sweet by anonymous. marcheron, 15,559 words. per the NHL rulebook, teams must provide any vampires on the roster with an emergency blood-use donor for medical treatment, should they be incapacitated during a game. an ingenious take on the vampirism trope, this fic makes you think YES this is exactly how it would go if bergy was a vampire. brad's voice as the pov character is so good and i am obsessed with the way the author uses the vampirism set up to explore who they are to one another and what it means to want and to care for someone. it is also ridiculously hot.

Please do reblog and add more recs -- including self-recs -- because i still need more fic to read! also, given that I am me, these are almost all marcheron but I am here for any and all bruins pairings. 👀

#boston bruins #hockey rpf #marcheron #swaymark #fic rec

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5eraphim · 9 months

Note

ok sooooooo, i have no idea a plot for this, but i am BEGGING for a threeway with vampire engie and vampire spy, they are my faves and i really like how you write them, and yeah the smut here is ELITE i had the prompt "you'll do what i ask, I know you will" but i'll take anything with these two 😭

I know exactly how you feel! I feel like my personal list of faves is always shuffling, but these two STAY top tier ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

Also like, I have so much respect and love for you to just jam them together in a request and stuff it into my inbox like two little paper dolls and, ok- that sounds like i'm being sarcastic, but I'm really not! I love requests that are like, "i love (x) so much, can I please see him doing something crazy" anyhow- thank you so, so much for the request, I hope you enjoy!

Here is a link to the Dub-con prompts!

here is a link to Vampire Engie's drabble

here is Spy's Vampire drabble

(You don't need to read both drabbles to understand this, but here a few notes about my vampire AU: Engie is the most recently turned vampire and isn't able to control himself well, and tries his hardest to maintain his humanity. Spy has been a vampire the longest and has masterful control over his vampiric hunger, as well possessing supernatural gifts for psychological manipulation (illusions and compulsion).)

Title: The Chateau

Characters: The Engineer 🦫 and The Spy 🐍 (Team Fortress 2)

Rating: X (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, GO PLAY OUTSIDE)

Content Warnings: dubcon, Dark! characterization, corruption kink, sexual venom, three-way, hostage situation, coercion, blood drinking, degradation, implied bad ending, AFAB reader/female pronouns and terms used, reader is a masochist, Spy is a massive jerk and bullies Engie and reader

Word Count: 7.4k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

"He licked my blood off his fingers. He loves me, I thought. He completely and totally loves me."

Engie was a monster. Not born a monster, but now an ex-human cursed to drink blood and prowl the night to sustain himself eternally. It was a cruel fate, but not one demanding the slaughter of innocent humans to live. Engie assured himself so long as he kept to drinking the blood of animals, not using his newfound immortality for evil or supernatural wiles to otherwise cause harm, he could still, in good faith, call himself a "good man." As if Engie could use his vampiric abilities even if he wanted to, Engie was content pretending they didn't exist, another minuscule way to make himself feel human.

Perhaps most humans would disagree with him, but when there were so many other vampires crawling about at night, ready to sink their teeth into any living body that crossed their path, Engie could be content with this. In life, he was an engineer and a farmhand and had pastures of cattle to siphon from in death. He believed this would be enough to get by with as long as he had to live on like this.

But the temptation was always there. The hunger and thirst were relentless, but no pain was worth sacrificing his humanity. Or so he told himself. But no one, supernatural or mortal, could survive on willpower alone forever. And every night, Engie could feel that terrible thirst to drink from a living human coming back stronger and stronger, no matter how much he drank from his livestock, it simply wasn't enough anymore to get by on, and it wasn't long 'till he reached his breaking point.

The timing was almost too perfect. An invitation from an alleged "charitable benefactor with mutual acquaintances" invited Engie for the meal of his life at his chateau, all free of charge. The invitation from a vampire who called himself "Spy," someone Engie had never met himself, though he knew from being mentioned by mutual friends, claiming he owed a favor to their shared friend and would be honored for the chance to host Engie's first proper feeding. It was all too remarkably convenient. Engie was sure there was a catch in all this somewhere. But after mulling the decision over for a few hours, he found himself at the address provided in the letter that night.

The hunger was particularly aggressive that night. He'd been isolated at his ranch for so long the noise and excitement of the city at night was nearly too much to endure. When he arrived, the moment the front door opened, Engie couldn't help but get a head rush, catching the aroma of the house from the outside. There was blood in there; it was fresh and human, and by God, did he want it more than anything.

Upon meeting Spy, Engie found himself just as distrusting and suspicious of the vampire as his first intuition warned him to be, though he reckoned it was too late to turn back now. The only thing he could do now was follow the older vampire as he led him deeper into his estate.

The chateau was massive, opulent, nothing less than an architectural masterpiece, but hardly inviting. The inside was equally as posh as the exterior, adorned with furniture that appeared far too ornate to get comfortable in and massive portraits with eyes that followed Engie as he strode down the corridors a few paces behind Spy. Nearly all the doors were closed and presumably locked. Spy led his guest swiftly down halls and upstairs, knowing the layout of his grand estate like the back of his hand.

Neither of the vampires bothered with small talk during the route, which Engie was grateful for. From his first impression of the man, Engie could tell Spy was distinguished and curt- he'd never bother small-talking with some peasant like Engie.

Despite Engie knowing he and Spy were both vampires, there was some unspeakable, insurmountable difference between the two of them Engie couldn't ignore. While Engie meandered, hesitantly and blindly following the aroma of blood, trying his hardest to remain composed in front of his host, Spy managed to stride with grace and assuredness to his prey. Whatever reservations and lingering humanity Spy might've once held onto was long gone now. And Engie shuddered to imagine himself succumbing to the same fate, should he remain a vampire as long as Spy had.

At last, Spy led Engie to a door, hidden far away in a quiet corner absolved of nearly all light, where Spy paused to pull a key from his pocket to unlock the door. While Engie could smell fresh blood nearby, mouth-wateringly close, he couldn't help but be slightly surprised and spoke quietly, more to himself than Spy, "You keep your prime blood supply hidden away like this?"

Spy looked down at Engie, unable to mask his smugness, "All for security, of course. I can't risk just anyone trying to get in here."

Engie nodded, "I see."

Spy's smile tightened briefly, "You're a privileged man to indulge in such a luxury. I hope you understand that."

Before Engie could respond, he heard the door's lock yield, and an intense waft of fresh blood overwhelmed him as the door was opened. At last, the final barrier between Engie and tantalizing human blood was gone, and he could feel his entire body buzzing with eagerness. Engie's eyes drifted shut as he inhaled deeply through his nose, swallowing the saliva that filled his mouth. The hunger which plagued Engie for months now, at last so nearly satisfied, the sensation as painful as it was pleasurable. He could practically feel his stomach gurgling and his toes curling in his boots as he opened his eyes to the sight before him.

The humble exterior gravely betrayed the interior in extravagance and size, as the room was easily twice as large as the shadowy door inclined him to believe. As Engie stepped inside, he felt the air rushing from his lungs, inhaling the scent of blood accented by the rosey aroma of candles burning, the only lighting in the room, as with the rest of the house, there were no windows. Drawing into the room, he felt like he was stepping into a scene straight out of a fairytale, the space before him adorned with riches he couldn't even imagine. Bookshelves with thick leather-bound novels, a crystal vanity, fur rugs plush deep enough to sink your ankles into, a record player humming softly in the corner, and countless glittering trinkets scattered about. As though every status symbol imaginable were compiled tastefully in the room, styled to perfection by the master of the house.

But despite all the room's ornate decorum, the real showstopper was the massive bed. It was constructed to look like a white swan, its graceful neck and chest curved at the foot of the oval-shaped mattress, with little obsidian gems in place of the swan's eyes, catching the flickering light of the candles. The sides of the bed were cradled by immaculately carved white wings with cream-colored feathers. And at the head of the bed, a lushly padded backboard stretched over halfway up the wall, curved in a lovely shell-like arc overhead serving as the swan's tail. How long it must take to precisely set the bed was beyond Engie, but despite the lavishness of the bed, his full attention was on the warm body in the center of the bed where you lay, surrounded by silky white pillows, laying atop the bed's single sheet.

The moment his eyes landed on you, the vampire found himself mesmerized. Despite appearing dwarfed by the massive bed around you, he was acutely aware of the hot blood running through your veins, the beating of your heart calling out to him like a siren's song. Clad in nothing but a sheer thin-strapped white nightgown, the hem's just barely grazing your knees. The fabric shone hypnotically, entrancingly on the room's low lighting, and was thin enough to give him a peek at the soft skin underneath. Despite how flimsy the nightie was, Engie noted that your neck, shoulders, and chest were kept temptingly bare. It's a bed fit for a queen, alright, but not one you were allowed to leave. He thought to himself.

Spy waited for Engie to fully enter the room before locking the door behind him. Casually, he made his way to the far side of the bed, shedding his blazer and hanging it on the chair beside the bed as he regarded your motionless body, gently caressing the side of your cheek with his knuckle. The eerie, almost surreal sight before him made Engie hesitate, despite his torturous desire, "But why me? Why give a stranger something so… extraordinary?"

"A stranger? You are my guest, are you not? What host would I be if I didn't provide top-quality provisions for my guests?" Spy spoke, petting at the top of your head, almost crooning. Engie could see how uncomfortable you were, laying on your back with your hands clasped over your chest in bed, starting over ahead, appearing frightfully similar to a corpse in a casket. Or like a taxidermied deer, slain, stuffed, and posed just so by another with no bodily autonomy of your own. Seeing you lying there, looking more lifeless than the undead men in the room, was unnerving.

Engie didn't have to look twice to know you'd been in this position before. He didn't draw too far into the room, not wanting to get too close to the bed, still unsure if he could fully trust Spy yet.

Engie pursed his lips together. He didn't want to believe a thing this shifty man had to say, but he had to admit, the blood running through your veins was calling his name. Spy continued in his comfortably haughty manner, "You really should be thanking me. Do you have any idea how many lowlife, street vampires would kill for the chance for a real meal, let alone one so well-cultivated?" As Spy spoke, he didn't look away from Engie, but his hands kept in motion. Going from petting the top of your head to using his fingers to tousle your hair. His other hand on your shoulder began to tug suggestively at the nightgown's strap, giving Engie a little peek at the warm human skin hardly concealed beneath the sheer fabric. The erotic display is almost enough to make him forget about the Frenchman indirectly calling him low class.

Engie observed the two of you, trying to pick up on any discomfort or agitation from you, but whatever Spy had done to you before now conditioned you well. Training you to keep docile, still, and well-behaved around Spy's company. You didn't try to struggle away or fight back when Spy's hand moved from your hair to the side of your cheek, pulling off his gloves and setting them by his jacket before using the side of his thumb to caress your skin.

Unsure of what to say next, Engie stepped forward, eyes locked on the exposed flesh of your neck, the expanse of space growing as Spy continued pulling down on the nightgown strap until it entirely slipped from your shoulder. He was so close now. It was like he could taste all the hot blood running through your veins on the tip of his tongue.

Engie's eyes focus on Spy's thin, slightly bony hand on his body before looking up at his face, "You don't want- You're not gonna make me kill her, are you?"

Spy's eye twitched as he forced himself to maintain his smile, briefly failing to completely hide his annoyance with Engie's continued hesitation. That pesky lingering humanity would be trickier to drive out than Spy thought. Nevertheless, he wasn't about to give up. There was nothing Spy loved more than a challenge, getting inside someone's head and finding out exactly how to push them to their breaking point. To bring out people's deeper, darker, more bestial nature.

"No need to worry about this one. She's done this all before. She's been trained exceptionally well to withstand the pain of feeding." Spy could tell Engie's hesitation and resolve were crumbling by the second. With more confidence, he continued, "But if you would rather go back to your little backwater ranch to suckle cattle for the rest of your afterlife, I suppose I can't stop you."

It hurt to hear, but Spy was right. Engie was sick to death of drinking the blood of animals. Sure, it stopped the thirst, but it never satisfied. He could drain a cow of all its blood. It was nothing compared to just a few drops of human blood, especially when complimented delectably by a bit of human adrenaline and fear.

Despite your ability to keep the fear from showing on your face, Engie was well aware of how your heart raced as Spy forced you to remain passive. Engie knew at that moment he could refuse himself the indulgence no longer.

Drawing in a shaking breath, Engie resigned. "I'll drink, but only one bite."

Spy nodded politely, a smirk of satisfaction spreading across his face. "An excellent decision."

Hearing the satisfaction in Spy's voice was nearly enough to convince Engie to back out of the deal then and there, but as much as he hated to admit it, Spy was absolutely right: Engie would be insane not to accept a free meal of such high quality. He drew just a bit closer until his shins brushed against the side of the bed opposite Spy, wrapping his hand around your wrist, his mouth already watering at the thought of a quick bite, getting to feel your pulse against his lips and tongue when Spy intervened, placing a hand over Engie's halting his movement.

Engie looked at Spy, confused, as he let go of Engie's hand before sitting up from the side of the bed. With a dry chuckle, Spy spoke, "You classless hick-laborers are all the same, always in such a rush. Not tonight. You're going to learn to take your time."

Spy produced a gold switchback knife from his pocket. The blade was small but glistened gorgeously in the low lighting, and even from across the bed, Engie knew it was exceptionally well crafted.

"Seems like an awful lot of trouble for just one bite…"

Spy had to bite his tongue to keep himself from saying something derogatory. It would be too easy to deride the Texan again for not knowing proper feeding etiquette. However, he resisted the temptation, not wanting to risk spoiling Engie's meal before it even started. As little as he cared for Engie, he'd promised them to show him the true value of human blood. Spy was a man of his word. Instead, he turned his inner frustrations to you, leaning his head to meet your eye, holding the side of your neck, forcing you to look straight at him, hissing directly into your ear, "Give him a taste. He is my guest. You will treat him as such."

Despite no actual threat in his words, the coldness of his voice and pointed tone warned you of what might happen if you were to try and disobey. His lips twisting upwards into a sinister imitation of a smile, he added, "You'll do what I say. I know you will."

Nodding, you tried your hardest to still your trembling hands as you accepted the gold blade from your lord before handing it to the other man beside you. Engie looked at you with pity, and you wondered if you looked as pathetic as you felt. It wasn't the first time Spy called on you to entertain company. Honestly, he was apt to pick on you specifically, volunteering your blood for his guests to taste. Spy spoke so highly of how you tasted, praising you and all you had to offer, but outside of feeding sessions, Spy was nothing but cold and controlling, and you knew you'd never be anything more than food to him. No matter how often you were in this situation, Spy never once warmed up to you, and no matter how much blood you gave, he was never satisfied.

Gritting your teeth, you clenched your fist and turned the arm facing Engie palm side up. Watching as he positioned the razor-sharp blade against the thin skin beneath the bend of your elbow, he held the tip here momentarily before swiping your flesh with the knife just deep enough to break the skin. The blade was wickedly sharp and didn't hurt at all. Spy saw to it his guests were given nothing but the finest dining wear when feeding at his estate. And it wasn't long until a few shiny little beads of blood formed along the slit. Using the knife's blade, he scraped along the cut, collecting some fresh blood on the edge before bringing it to his face to inspect.

Engie was hypnotized by his appetite and thirst igniting at the sight of the fresh blood. While Spy kept his attention focused on you. Spy's thumb slid along the lips of the cut, collecting a few red beads of blood prickling at the cut's surface before using his tongue to swipe his finger clean. It was disheartening to feel a familiar sense of grief as you waited for your lord and his guest to settle down to feed from you as he'd done time and time before. The familiarity did nothing to quell your unease. You'd suffer so many "meals" with Spy, and they never got easier as time passed. Now that there was another to feed, you could do nothing but expect the worst.

Spy watched with satisfaction as Engie lingered momentarily to smell the tiny smear of blood on the knife's tip. He could practically see the other man's mouth water from where he sat. The moment Engie's mouth made contact with your blood, he was almost suckling from the blade, the taste every bit as rich and satisfying as he'd hoped. The rich flavor and subtle undertones of fear made Engie moan out loud as he was lost in his internal bliss.

But just as soon as it started, it was all over, leaving Engie with nothing but the feeling of a cold knife coated in his own drool in his mouth. Letting out a shaky breath, Engie lowered the blade, his eyes a bit darker now, hungrier and more predatory, making you wonder which vampire you genuinely feared more at the moment.

Spy too, picked up on Engie's inhibitions, vanishing near-instantly, smirking a little to himself, trying not to sound too condescending. "Care for another taste, my friend?"

After sucking his own thumb clean, Spy turned his fangs to you, leaning over from across the bed to kiss the wound, his lips pressing against the warm, slightly stinging cut before opening his mouth enough to allow his teeth to graze over your skin, enjoying the familiar warmth of blood rushing beneath the skin as he muttered, "good girl" against your skin. He'd need to hold back a little if he wanted to be a good host tonight. It wouldn't be easy and hardly his style, but he knew he could do it if it was just for one night.

Engie nodded and was about to return his attention to the already formed cut on your arm, but Spy continued, sliding from his position at your side on the bed, moving down to sitting at your feet, leaving the space behind your head empty.

Spy patted at the space he shifted from, motioning for Engie to move into place there, "Go for the neck next."

He didn't need any further invitation as he encroached closer. "So much for just one bite," you thought miserably. While the sample of your blood whet his appetite, he knew it paled compared to how you would taste while feeding from the flesh. As though the starved vampire needed any further incentive.

Engie didn't want to hurt you, but his good intentions were effectively silenced by his hunger. His eyes were glued on your neck and clavicle and the bare part of your chest uncovered by the flimsy nightgown as he crawled into bed, sliding behind you as you allowed him to prop you up and adjust you to his liking until you were comfortably within his hold. For someone who claimed to be so staunchly against consuming human blood, you couldn't help but notice how he perfectly found the spots vampires used to grip onto when feeding from their victims, his mouth aligning exactly where you'd felt the awful pain of a vampire's bite several times before.

Even before Engie bit down, you knew this was gonna hurt. No matter how hesitant a first-time feeder was, they were helpless to control their hunger. The more experienced could make even the deepest bites pleasurable for both the host and vampire, but that took years of practice and not from feeding on animals.

Finally, after he couldn't wait another moment, Engie took his first bite in earnest. He was decisive, targeting a weak point on your neck, drawing upon all those nights of hunger to give him the strength to make the first bite count. On instinct- you pulled away, no matter how many times you'd been fed upon, you couldn't conquer the primal human instinct to flinch and try to protect yourself. Though, just as your instincts told you to pull away, Engie told him to tighten his grip, his arm wrapped around your waist tightened so harshly, you felt the air squeezed from your lungs. His fingers pressed harder on the bottom of your jaw and cheek, forcing you to stay put.

It hurt. It always hurt. But to your surprise, it was far from the worst pain you'd felt during a feeding. Some vampires you'd fed were sadistic, doing everything they could to make you scared and in agony, as it made the blood taste best. Still, you could tell Engie was too hungry to care about heightening your fear or anything other than quenching that awful thirst that had tormented him for months.

For a split second, you ease your tension, releasing a breath you didn't realize you were holding, slacking enough to stop pulling away from Engie. He moaned loudly to himself between full-mouthed gulps of hot blood. You had no idea how much he'd taken, but you could tell he was drinking fast and couldn't help but let your mind dull and let the early light-headedness dampen your senses and let your mind begin to drift off. That was until you felt a sharp prick against your thigh. Spy was still on the bed, sitting by your legs, knife still in hand, the intimidating look on his face snapping you right back to reality.

"Don't get too comfortable. And don't forget you're feeding two tonight." His voice was hushed; it was almost hard to hear over the messy swallowing of the vampire feeding right by your ear, but you got the message. If you were smart, you would close your eyes and allow the vampires to feast without struggle. Maybe you'd even get lucky and pass out and sleep through the feeding session, but for some reason, you couldn't take your eyes off Spy.

As much as you despised him, you were equally captivated. Using the tip of the knife to push the nightie's hem up to your upper thigh, he dug the tip in harder, little by little the higher he went. Just the light pressure had you on edge all over again- Spy always somehow knew how to keep you like this, afraid of his next move, even without using excessive force. Knowing just how to paralyze you with fear while hardly breaking the skin. Partially on account of his supernaturally charged abilities, partially on account of his general disposition.

Watching Spy nimbly tracing his knife over your bare flesh made you shudder, unconsciously pressing yourself closer to Engie to try and distance yourself from Spy. Engie could feel your trembling body pressing against his, but his mind was still blank with ecstasy as he feasted, one hand fisting your hair, the other hugging your torso against his stocky body protectively.

Around this time, your head typically started throbbing. Engie had slowed down slightly, but the blood loss was slowly catching up with you. Your head started to feel heavy, but you were too scared to close your eyes.

Engie paused, feasting for a moment as he felt something wet trickling down your cheek distracting him. To finally get a good look at what he'd done to you, to see the color drained from your lips and cheeks, the cold sweat clinging to your brow, though most noticeably the dark circles under your eyes which accentuated your fear beautifully. He'd almost forgotten about the other man in the room and fully believed himself responsible for your state.

"You look so scared, you're shaking… My God, you're so beautiful when you're scared." Engie, as though forgetting all about the messy smear of blood clinging to his chin, running down his neck, pressed his lips to the side of your slightly cold lips, moaning against you as though too shy to go in for a full kiss, despite sucking the life out of your neck only seconds ago.

"Your fear- it tastes so good!" For a moment he continued to nuzzle his face against yours with an almost child-like affection while you forced yourself not to flinch at the feeling of your own blood smearing across your face.

"You've tasted fear, laborer- but perhaps you'd like to taste a bit of pleasure as well?" Without warning, Spy gripped the bottom hem of your nightgown, the knife against your thigh flicked upward, slicing a long slit in the sheer fabric up to your bottom ribs with a soft tearing sound. While Spy originally intended to preserve the gown, Engie's sloppy eating stained the collar and bodice beyond repair. Watching other vampires ruin his valuables with slovenly carelessness usually infuriated Spy, but for some reason, he found great pleasure in watching the fledgling vampire feed. Watching his humanity slowly drain while his vampiric venom began to take control of his mind.

All vampires could produce venom when feeding, an ancient ability vampires used during primal times to keep victims still and compliant during a feast. The poison, released through a gland in the mouth by the vampire's teeth, entered the victim's body once bitten, causing heightened light-headedness and disorientation. The toxin would also affect the vampire as it was ingested while eating, making them feel hungrier, lowering inhibitions, and sexually charged. Spy knew Engie likely never truly felt enough excitement while feeding to produce his own venom, and he had to admit, watching Engie experience this for the first time pleased him immensely.

Nothing was more arousing to Spy than control, and the scene unfolding before him was like a fantasy brought to life- the fledgling losing his mind, letting his monstrous impulses take over while his lovely little captive mortal could do nothing but take the abuse, your human heart pumping more and more hot blood just for them. You and Engie were losing battles against animalistic impulses while Spy remained stone-faced and in total control.

Engie froze up at the sight of your now-bare skin, just now realizing you weren't wearing anything beneath the dress. Spy's hand crept higher, from hip to waist, dragging his sharp nails over vulnerable skin, giving you goosebumps. Engie lifted his arm from around your chest to secure both hands on your shoulders to keep you from swimming too much.

Spy had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing out loud at the look on Engie's face, practically sweating with arousal, no doubt mind going blank on account of the fresh venom in his system. He folded the knife, putting it back in his pocket, before using both hands to pull the sides of the slit he made, tearing the poor dress in two. Engie moved his hands just enough to allow the dress to fall off your shoulders as he pulled the tattered remains of the dress from your body.

Spy settled between your legs, your upper body relaxing against Engie's, trying to ignore the way you could hear the sloshing of your own blood in his belly whenever he moved. While Engie removed your dress, Spy undid his button-down shirt, discarding it, hanging it by his blazer, but keeping his dress pants and belt on.

Spy sat back on his haunches, watching Engie feeling up your bare skin with an amusement that bordered on giddiness. "You know, laborer, it's ironic you were so concerned about hurting her. Would you like to know why?" His voice is low and sharp, speaking with the confidence of someone who knows they're entirely in control of everyone else in the room.

Engie nodded, unable to take his eyes off Spy as he crawled closer, watching him grip both your thighs in his hands, fingers digging into the skin. "Let me tell you a secret about her, something she'd never dare tell anyone- but one so obvious to men like me."

Without warning, Spy dug his thumbnails harshly into your inner thighs, making you yelp. Arching your back, pushed closer to Engie while Spy kept your legs locked in place.

"She likes it rough. She wants you to hurt her. Getting rough turns her on- she'll act obedient and innocent but under that sweet face. She's nothing but a whore."

Your eyes went wide and you shook your head, trying to crane your neck enough to look back at Engie, to beg him not to listen to him, but given your position it was impossible to see his face, still you begged. "N-no, no! It's not true! I'm not like that!"

Your heart sank as Engie replied, "You sure about that, sweets?"

You were about to try and twist around to beg again when Spy harshly tugged your legs, forcing them to stay straight and parted, "Sit still, or I'll make you wish you had."

He kept his eyes on you as he lowered his head to take his first real bite of the night on your thigh, making your chest feel fluttery. You couldn't tell if he was using his hypnosis to turn you on or not, but whatever he was doing was working. "Was it always this way- or is it just with him?" You wondered, screwing your eyes shut as you felt Engie's hands move to cover your tits, groping them with both hands, stroking with his thumb while Spy continued to drink.

Satisfied with his first bite, Spy began to move further up your legs, kissing and biting your thighs, scraping sharp teeth against soft flesh, making you shiver, tense up, and clench around nothing.

Spy was so maddeningly close, within breathing distance, but still moving too slowly. You could feel your blood rushing south as Spy began to trace his thumb along the slit of your sex, feeling it throb for him, leaking slightly, silently begging for more. He teased his fingers there a moment longer before addressing Engie, "Give me your hand."

Wordlessly, the younger vampire complied, unlatching from one breast to Spy, who guided it between your legs. You keened as Engie allowed Spy to push his fingers into you. Despite how you writhed, there was nowhere to go, and you were forced to endure the feeling of Engie's fingers curiously prodding the hot and throbbing bundle of nerves between your legs.

"Now taste it," Spy commanded, to which Engie happily obliged, inhaling the smell of your slick coating his fingers before sucking them clean, his eyes rolling back at the taste. While Engie was distracted, Spy continued to bite and drink from your inner thighs, staying dangerously close to your sex but refusing to give you the attention you needed. Spy drank much neater than other vampires, keeping his bites small and quiet and not allowing any precious blood to go to waste.

Swallowing your nerves, you tried to beg Engie for mercy in a whisper one last time, foolishly thinking Spy was too focused on feeding to notice. "Sir, aren't you satisfied yet? Are you ready to go now- pl-"

You were cut off by a particularly harsh bite from Spy, making your entire body go rigid and your heart race as you looked down and saw the fury on Spy's face, "How dare you- don't you ever talk to my guests like that."

Spy slapped the top of your thigh, making the bite wounds sting painfully. For a brief moment, Engie had a moment of clarity. He knew you were no doubt at your limit, and it wasn't right for him to drink more, not after you'd endured the hunger of himself and Spy. But unfortunately, morality was no match for instincts, and he smiled wickedly at the helpless look on your face as he began to run his hands up and down your sides, feeling up the curves of your body.

"Aw, don't be such a harsh spook. I know she didn't mean it. But what do you say you give me a turn down there between her legs?"

A satisfied look settled on Spy's face as he nodded, "Be my guest."

Engie grunted as he moved out from behind you unsteadily and with great effort. His stomach had begun to bloat while eating, making his belt feel uncomfortably tight, and the curve of his stomach slightly strain against his overalls. Spy snickered as he crept silently from between your legs to sitting beside you on the side of his hip, hardly affected by all he had to drink.

"You're alright for more?" Engie's eyes were wild and excited. Whatever lingering humanity he clung to wouldn't be enough to save you. His shoulders rose and dropped with his bull-like, ragged breathing.

This isn't right… You thought to yourself as you listened to Engie clumsily undoing his belt, popping the buttons on his overalls as he dropped them to his ankles with his boxers. You were vaguely aware of the sound of his relief freeing his cock from the stiff and heavy denim, and the next thing you knew, he was back on top. You wanted to tell him to stop, to beg him to get off, but you were too drained to do much more than whimper beneath him as he crawled on top of you, caging you down, wasting no time positioning himself between your legs. While you were wet from before, it would do little to make this any more pleasurable for you. But you were too weak to speak. Your tongue felt too heavy in your mouth, keeping you from saying anything.

"Fuck, j-just stop me if I'm goin' too fast-" Engie mumbled into your neck as he aligned his fangs against you, preparing to take another bite. You could smell the heavy, almost musky smell of vampiric venom wafting from Engie's mouth, similar to the dribblets of precum leaking from the tip of his cock, just seconds away from spearing you.

Your eyes drifted from his face back to the ceiling, eyesight blurry and unfocused. Your body tensed as Engie pushed inside; the feeling made you nauseous, but you could only look away and kick your feet weakly as he snapped his hips against yours. Everything began to dull. His mouth continued to nibble and suckle from your body. His venom's aroma hung heavy in the air. Your muscles were sore from the blood loss and tension, but all were overtaken by a crushing feeling of apathy and dissociation. Blurring pain, fear, sickness, and arousal together into nothingness.

You were drifting somewhere between awake and asleep, entirely terrified and totally numb, when Engie took another bite from your shoulder, injecting another load of venom inside you in sync with his balls emptying inside you. His bite was hungry and desperate, accidentally gouging out a few tiny chunks of skin, which he swallowed constantly. Oddly, you could feel the pain of skin being ripped away, but it affects you as it should have. The pain was there, but it didn't matter. Like your body was no longer your own, it was his, and if gnawing your skin away bit by bit pleased him, so be it.

Spy watched Engie remain sheathed inside you for a while, breathing heavily, swallowing the remaining blood in his mouth before he eventually rolled over, collapsing at your other side. Engie continued to pant a bit longer, mindlessly bringing a hand to rub over the curve of his gut, considerably bloated from all he'd had to drink. Engie couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so full, and for a moment felt a bitter nostalgia for his living days back in Texas, where "everything was bigger,", especially the food. The painful fullness felt familiar in a way he hadn't felt for so long.

"She's gonna be… alright, isn't she?" Engie, still coming down from his own feeding high, was no longer immune to the guilt of his actions, rolling onto his side. Tonight went further than ever before, much further, and the sight of your naked, vulnerable human body brought him back down to earth, and suddenly, the warm blood he felt sitting heavy in his gut didn't feel so good. Engie felt heavier, filled with blood so rich and delicious it bordered on painful and sluggish for exerting himself. All he wanted now was to head back to his ranch and find a nice, quiet place to lay down.

Your body, sprawled out on the bed, smeared with thin, crusted smears of your own blood, still breathing unsteadily, head back staring at the ceiling while you were evidently somewhat dazed from the blood loss and strain of what you'd just been through. You were breathing, which was good, and Engie knew you hadn't lost a fatal amount of blood, but his conscience refused him peace of mind.

Spy adored being the devil in Engie's ear. Urging him to give into temptation and brutalize you was the high point of the night, and watching Engie's remorse for his actions was also quite satisfying. He couldn't help but grin sinisterly as Engie's gaze went from you to Spy, who stared back bright-eyed with an almost chipper viciousness.

Spy repositioned himself in bed to sit upright with perfect posture as he stared down the other vampire, "She'll make it. I'll see to it. I assure you, I take excellent care of my possessions."

Clenching his jaw a little, Engie tried to appear as neutral as he could, but he could tell the other vampire was mocking him. Spy knew how Engie's formed an attachment with you, and it hurt to hear Spy addressing you like an object. How could he call you a possession after all that? Though he was technically right, you were still his property after all. How cold-hearted and jaded did a man have to become to see humans as nothing but food. It was a vile thing to say, as though he had no memory of being human once at all.

Engie wanted to say something to defend you, but what was the point? Hadn't he just now fed off of you until you were about to pass out, going back for seconds even after he could see how afraid you were? No matter how guilty he might've felt, Engie knew he had no grounds to call the other vampire heartless. Despite not knowing you before now, he couldn't help but feel sorry for you, not for your cloistered life as a living blood bank and live-in pet for a vampire; such a fate would be miserable for anyone, but having to endure all that to Spy, of all vampires was frankly a fate worse than death.

Engie sat up scooching down to the very foot of the bed where he sat, his legs dangling from the side of the bed beside the swan's neck, trying not to let himself see the mess of fluids puddled around you, tarnishing the bed sheets, forcing him to take in just how he'd let himself go. "Is she going to remember this?"

To his surprise, Spy paused carefully regarding the two of you. His expression changed from maliciousness to consideration, momentarily dropping his airs of superiority. "No… I suppose not everything. But you do know what comes next, don't you?"

Engie almost couldn't believe the gall of the vampire before him. "Nothing is coming next. This is over! You've held up your end of the deal. I've been fed. This was all a one-time thing, no more, no less!"

Spy, smiling cordially, appeared unaffected by Engie's visible wrath, "I must say, you've impressed me tonight. I didn't think you had it in you to go all the way."

Engie huffed, rolling his eyes, "Like it matters. It's over now, I won't be coming back."

"Over?" Spy mused.

Engie snapped back instantly, "Yes, over. I ain't comin' back. You and your lot can keep all the prisoners you want- I'll have no part in this!"

"Hardly my prisoner anymore, not after the damage you've done."

Engie didn't like the way Spy was talking to him, his airs of superiority morphing into something more mysterious and chilling. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"Well, the venom, of course, and your, ah DNA, shall we say- You do know what happens when you force a human to endure both at once, don't you?" Spy couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise as the Engineer merely looked at him with hostility. Spy realized he'd need to be much more blunt to get through to Engie.

"Our kind, all vampires, we take from the living. We drain them of their life force and bleed them dry. We can suck the life out of their body, but that isn't to say we can't provide fresh life to fill the void." As Spy spoke, he pulled the thin bed sheet stained with blood pushed to the bottom of the bed during the excitement over your naked body to conceal the grizzly sight below before he stood up from the bed, picking up his garments, dressing, ensuring his clothing was properly smoothed down and buttoned correctly, to mask any traces of the depravity he'd just engaged in.

Engie roared, "The hell are you sayin'?"

Spy didn't respond but looked Engie square in the eye, waiting for him to connect the dots. And after a moment of forced silence, Engie buried his face in his hands, moaning a quiet but mournful "oh."

"My deepest apologies. If only I'd known before, you never knew, I would've spoken sooner-" Spy walked to place his hand on the other man's shoulder, but Engie retracted before Spy could reach him.

"Shut up! You, goddamn snake, you- fuckin' hell! You knew it would end like this. You knew all along!" Engie felt his breath rush from his chest as his hands went numb. All at once, his anger died down into a bleak depressive-acceptance. If not for the fact he was already sitting on the edge of the bed, he'd likely fallen over. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see you'd managed to pass into a largely calm slumber; the blanket over your body concealed you from his view, but Engie could only imagine what was going on inside of you at that moment. If he didn't know this could happen, he had a bad feeling you didn't either. His head dropped forward a little, his posture slumped forward, bracing himself using his hands on the tops of his knees. Engie had no idea what he was in for when he accepted the invitation to Spy's chateau for a complimentary meal and "proper dining," but never in a million years would he have seen something like this coming.

He didn't have the strength to look Spy in the eye, "You're a liar. Humans and vampires can't reproduce. It ain't natural, and it's- aw hell, It just ain't possible!"

Spy extended a hand, cupping the bottom of Engie's jaw, firmly forcing him to meet him at eye level. "Call me a liar now all you want. Enjoy believing that while it lasts."

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