#he is both impressed and embarrassed by how serious this man takes everything | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fueledpurelybyspite · 2 years ago

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Ops, wrong painting

summary

'And so help me god, Thorpe, if something like this happens again-'

'It won't' He and his father answer at the same time.

The ancient vampire fixes both of them with a long stare. Shaking his head, he quietly adds one last jab

'And let's hope the poor girl never finds out about this'

At last, something all three of them can agree with.

Or, Xavier Thorpe is asked to do a recreation of a famous painting with a personal twist for his art class, but the canvases get mixed up.

Xavier Thorpe is a dead man.

Done, finished, utterly fucked would also be appropriate terms to use in this scenario. But yes, dead sums it up pretty well too.

He sits in the principal's office, left leg bouncing restlessly on the immaculate hardwood floor and eyes darting around uncomfortably.

His father is here, for god's sake. Sitting by his side with a burning glare pointed at his profile. He's just come back from a tour, the famous Illusionist Vincent Thorpe. This was supposed to be one of the rare weeks off he dares to take, which are usually spent in their house in New York, in the charming company of whatever emerging starlet he has managed to promise fame and short-lived luxury to.

Xavier can actually feel the sweat beading on his forehead and at the back of his neck. He keeps his flushed face downturned, his head hung low in his palm. blond hair is pulled tight between his fingers as his elbow lays against the armrest.

He knows he fucked up, big time. This is the first time in his school career he has reason to fear he might actually get expelled.

The new principal, a strict and burly vampire who looks like he's just emerged from 1920' London's downtown scene, was very much not impressed when his father offered to pay the school a check without even letting him finish explaining what his son had done to land him in so much trouble.

He now sits behind the imposing hardwood desk, directing an impressively hash glare on them for someone who's wearing such dark sunglasses.

'Mr. Thorpe' His rich, rough voice fills the room as he scrutinizes his father, and Xavier feels like everything is just too much. He can't stand being the center of attention and he's suddenly hyperaware of the way his clothes rest on his skin, fabric rustling and shifting and making him go insane. He's hot and cold all over, he hadn't felt this scared and embarrassed since he was scolded as a child for finding the gardener's collection of playboys.

'What your son here has committed is an extremely serious infraction. If his record so far wasn't as clean as it is, it would have warranted an immediate expulsion.'

Xavier feels like he should at least try to explain himself, but he knows he sounds exasperated. 'It was an accident'

'An accident?'

The headmaster's voice is booming and sharp-edged. The birds in the cages hanging from the windows flap their wings around restlessly. Xavier feels restless, too.

'One of my colleagues, Mr. Crellin, your art teacher, has come to me yesterday morning to tell me you have made a portrait of one of your classmates, an underaged girl, against her consent or knowledge, depicting her in a state of undress with a disturbing amount of details'

Xavier actually wants to die. Take a shovel, dig a hole, crawl in it, and just die.

His father is absolutely seething. He guesses this would be pretty bad press if the news were leaked.

He can already see the headline 'Famous illusionist's deranged son gets expelled from prestigious academy for depravity'

God, he hates to think about the huge check his art teacher has surely already taken to keep this all quiet.

He's able to find his voice, eventually, but he hates how low and wavering it sounds. 'That was not the painting I intended to hand in for the project'

If looks could kill, Xavier would already be laying in the aforementioned hole. Unfortunately, the headmaster's glare only manages to make him want to puke on his shoes. Which is still fairly impressive, he supposes.

'The point is that you have completely disregarded another student's privacy and integrity in favor of your own…enjoyment' His words are disgusted and enraged and Xavier hates every second of it because it's not like that at all.

Well, maybe a little, but still.

'And don't think I don't know what you can do with your powers, boy, if I come to know you're using your gifts to create some kind of..of amateur pornography-'

'Jesus fucking Christ'

He's never agreed with his father more.

'Look' He feels obliged to speak before the situation gets even, somehow, worse. 'I know I screwed up. Bad. But I swear I hadn't meant for anyone to see it, and I didn't do anything with it. The canvases got mixed up and I made a mess. Please, I know this looks awful, but I swear I'm not dangerous or scheming or anything. I'm just…I'm just-'

A fucking moron with a crush

He sighs, defeated.

The gods take pity on him, and so must do his principal who decides, for some unfathomable reason, to believe him. 'All of your privileges will be revoked until further notice, no more passes into town on the weekends and you will not be going to the carnival during the Harvest festival.' a deep breath, then ' You're going to help the janitors to restock the art supplies every week for the following five weeks. You'll be allowed to keep that shed you use in the woods, but a staff member will come unannounced once a month to keep an eye on what you have in there'

Ouch. It could have been a lot worse, sure, but still harsh.

'And so help me God, Thorpe, if something like this happens again-'

'It won't' He and his father answered at the same time.

The ancient vampire fixes both of them with a long stare. Shaking his head, he quietly adds one last jab.

'And let's hope the poor girl never finds out about this'

At last, something all three of them can agree with.

It all started on a shitty Monday morning, as most shitty things do.

Xavier lay half-splayed out in his seat, stretching in the sunlight filtering through the classroom's window like a stray cat, sleepy and dissatisfied in the pale morning light.

The lessons he had scheduled on the first day of the week were always awfully boring, but he didn't mind. In fact, he endured them with heroic courage, for no other reason than that the last one of them was art class with Mr. Crellin.

The man was a genius when it came to his craft. Even though he didn't dabble in the practical aspect of the arts, he collected rare renditions of barely known artists from all across the world and he knew every single thing about them.

His ability to analyze the most mundane detail in a painting and tell the whole history behind it, to take apart and examine the structure of the picture without depriving it of its poetry had been what had motivated Xavier to actually start studying art instead of just making it.

Drawing and painting had always been his coping mechanisms, a creative outlet to keep him from going mad. Madder, that is.

But he'd never been particularly proud of it or thought it very useful.

Mr. Crellin had changed that.

So imagine his enthusiasm when, a few minutes before dismissing class, the teacher made the announcement.

'Very well, guys. For your next assignment, I'd like each of you to find a famous painting of your choosing and try to re-draw it in your own personal perspective. Doesn't matter if you take a detail of it and transfer it in a different context or if you decide to redo the whole thing. As long as it tells me something about you'

While his classmates huffed and groaned, Xavier tried to keep his smile subtle, the gears in his head already moving.

'And remember ladies and gentlemen, it must be done by this weekend'

'Didn't think the day would come where I'd see you read a book without pictures'

Wednesday's words came so close to his ears that he actively had to suppress a shiver 'Oh, wait. There are pictures'

He glared at her where she stood, peeking behind his shoulder.

'This is an art history book, Addams. And they're not pictures, they're illustrations'

They were the only ones at their usual table in the quad during lunch break. The sirens had to move up choir rehearsal and Enid and Ajax were probably busy sucking face somewhere.

'Whatever helps you sleep at night' She eyed curiously his eyebags as she sat in front of him, a hint of a smile in the corners of her berry-stained lips. 'Although it's clearly not helping much.'

'Very funny' he shot back at her. He tried focusing back on his textbook, but his gaze shot up again when he noticed the odd way she had styled her custom uniform that day.

Her tie was missing entirely and the first two buttons of her shirt were undone. It wasn't promiscuous, per se, but it was still a noticeable difference from her usually pristine appearance. A pale collarbone peeked through the unfastened hem, looking as dainty and as fragile as a bird's. There, barely visible, bloomed an angry pink rash, three darker streaks in the middle as if she'd just been scratching at it.

When he realized he hadn't looked at her face for far more time than was polite, which is any amount of time, he dared to lift his gaze only to find her staring right back at him, one eyebrow raised impossibly high.

Xavier cleared his throat, fairly surprised but somehow alarmed by the lack of threats and knives. 'What happened there?' He asked, vaguely pointing at her cleavage.

Wednesday sighed in a rare display of emotion, letting her annoyance show through. 'Enid accidentally sprayed some of her nasty cheap perfume over me. Contact with clothes was only irritating it more and right now I can't afford to steal any more bandages from the infirmary without raising suspitions'

He snorted, shaking his head with an amused grin.

'Who's the elitist snob now?'

'Do shut up, Thorpe'

'As you wish, of course'

Putting her elbows on the table, Wednesday leaned in towards him to take a better look at the page he'd been studying before her arrival.

'What are you working on, anyway, so absorbed in your book with pictures'

'Illustrations'

'Whatever'

He sighed, secretly enjoying their banter. He had a feeling Wednesday did too.

'I have to work on this project for Mr.Crellin. So I'm just trying to find a painting that, you know' he trailed off, feeling clumsy in his own choice of words 'speaks to me'

Wednesday just looked back at him, seeming as unimpressed as she usually did. Then, as swiftly as she had arrived, she gathered her things to leave.

'Best of luck on your research, then'

A heavy sigh left his body as he stepped away from the canvas, cleaning his hands on his stained hoodie before rubbing them on his eyes, tired and heavy with sleep.

He dared to glance at what he'd been working on for the past four hours. The picture he'd managed to bring together was a rendition of The Starry Night, but instead of a peaceful city in the south of France, he'd painted the iconic sky on top of the streets of New York.

He imagined it wasn't fair to compare his father's penthouse to the Saint-Paul-de-Mausole asylum, but whatever. He supposed Van Gogh wouldn't have been too offended, fellow tortured artist and all. Besides, Xavier felt like he'd gone just as mad, left alone in that big space year after year.

The proportions were perfect, the moonlight on the skyscrapers was flawless, and he'd recreated the masterpiece's original sky in excruciating detail. It was original and yet respectful, it was objectively beautiful.

It was soulless.

Xavier banged his head hard on his worktable. Everything about his picture felt so…impersonal. He'd been so excited for this project, it was a chance to really show what he felt, to create something meaningful and personal and heartwrenching.

something that was real.

Everything had been a mess since the Hyde. Xavier felt as if he'd lost all passion for drawing. He still loved it, of course, and still needed it, but he couldn't go back to the easy way it was before. He didn't need to plan his paintings before, he used to put the pencil on paper without knowing what would come out of it. It'd been second nature, like he'd been born with a pencil in his right hand. But then the whole shitshow that was the previous semester happened and all he could manage to draw was the Hyde. And now he had to plan things out, as if he'd completely lost his instinct.

All he drew when he really let his mind wander was Wednesday.

He knew it was creepy. And unhealthy. He shouldn't just replace one obsession with another. but he just couldn't stop. during the past few months, he'd collected an alarmingly big collection of studies of her, his two most recent sketchbooks were filled exclusively with it. Just pages and pages of the curve of her hands, the bend of her fingers against the bow of her cello, the arch of her neck, the twist and knots in her spine, the bruises on her knees, the pout on her lips, her fathomless eyes.

His hands itched as his mind brought forth the image of her exposed throat from earlier that day, the pale flash stretched over her sharp collarbones, the angry rash barely visible under the open collar of her shirt.

He wasn't sure what he'd wanted more, to touch it or to draw it.

Fuck it.

In a move filled with frustration and confusion, Xavier put his New York starry night on the ground next to the door and took out a fresh canvas.

He looked at the cheap watch on his wrist that he wore specifically while painting, a bright green 1 a.m. glared back at him.

He put the blank canvas on the easel, dipped his brush in the deepest black he had, and just let his mind wander free.

Obviously he'd fallen asleep barely an hour before the start of classes, obviously he'd rushed and barely made it in time for Mr. Crellin's lesson, and obviously he'd taken the wrong canvas.

Good God, what a mess.

Xavier's currently contemplating what excuse he can pull out of his ass to explain to Ajax and their friends why he can no longer go with them to try the new sushi restaurant this weekend, or any other weekend, or any other day in the foreseeable future.

He shakes his head with a humorless laugh. Hell, at least his father showed up.

He's at least got a chance to a fair grade. He makes his way to his shed to retrieve the painting he had actually intended to bring to class, the one with the starry night overlooking New York City.

Mr.Crellin has graciously agreed to leave this whole thing behind them and take a look at his real project. He supposes he should be grateful.

He isn't. Mr. Crellin is a fucking snitch.

Xavier moves on autopilot through woods he knows like the back of his hand. He steps into the clearing, takes the key to the shed out of his pocket, and swings the door open all while completely lost in thought.

'I guessed you were bound to come by, sooner or later'

He comes back to reality abruptly.

His eyes go round and impossibly big as he takes in the image of Wednesday, her back to the door and voice light and distracted as she studies intently the portrait in front of her.

The portrait of her.

Xavier can feel the sweat turn ice cold on his body, the hair raising on the back of his neck as his heart starts beating so fast it feels as if it wants to crawl out of his chest, break the bones, cut through his ribcage, destroy itself and him with it.

He'd been drunk off of frustration and lust, the night he'd painted her. There wasn't space for poetry and poise, and it shows. He can only look on horrified as the real Wednesday Addams stares at the Wednesday Addams he made, eyes half close and lids heavy with promise, the sharp bones in her face, cheeks sunken in and tiny chin jutted out towards the sky, her hair unbound behind dainty shoulders, her delicate bare breasts, the deep arch in her spine as she poses as Munch's Madonna.

He wanders, wildly, how she came to find this out. If she had a vision or heard someone in the staff talk. He wonders how she managed to steal it from the headmaster's office and bring it here, if she's more offended by the nudity or the utter surrender in the stance he dared to imagine her in.

Most of all, he wonders what kind of painful, horrifying death she's planning to inflict on him.

But his nightmarish girl manages to surprise him once again.

With a chilling calm in her voice, she lifts a single graceful finger towards the canvas to point at the space right next to a small, pink nipple.

'I have a freckle right here, actually'.

#wednesday x xavier #xavier thorpe #addams family #wavier #wenthorpe #wenvier #wednesday #enid sinclair #ajax petropolus #wednesday 2022

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baelpenrose · 10 months ago

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Project Praetorian 48: What Happened At Esquiline Base

What happened at that third base? Who are these new members? Well, this deserves an answer. Starting at about the same time Molly arrives, let's see who these other members are. @canyouhearthelight beta read and really wanted to hear this story, and see what their specializations were. Also, TW for child abuse mentions, transphobia, gun violence, police brutality, and...at this point if I say "imperator-typical shittiness" you can guess what's going to happen to both of the new team members at the first part of their stories, right?

Amaryllis

She could remember the day that she’d come out of the closet to her evangelical parents - or more accurately, the day that she’d made a mistake and told the wrong school employee, who’d slipped up and told her parents.

Who had been under the impression that they’d had a son. Actually, technically, her parents were correct that they had one son. Where they were wrong is that they thought they had two.

They already weren’t exactly the best to her autistic twin, either, who was still stuck at some screwed up specialized treatment, but at least Nicolas wasn’t full on disowned, even if he was going through a lot of shit.

But no, when the bastards had learned she was trans, she was out. They’d told her that they could have lived with her trying it and being honest so they could help her see sense, but she’d embarrassed them and lived in sin behind their backs, made them look stupid in front of the community, and she was out on the street.

Because making your kid homeless was so much better than having a trans kid.

She’d been hungry for a while. There were a few friends she could have crashed with, but given that she lived in Tennessee, where taking in a homeless queer teenager might get someone’s own kids taken for ‘endangering’ them, her friends’ parents weren’t exactly willing to run the risk - though they were willing to put her up in motels on and off.

Still, it hadn’t taken long for her to start getting really desperate. She knew she couldn’t rely on charity forever, even if her friends were working part time jobs to pass her money occasionally.

She couldn’t get a job on her own, not a legal one.

Then she’d been arrested when some fucking Karen had called the cops on her for being in a public park and scaring the kids.

But the cops…hadn’t been cops. Or they had been, but they had taken a blood sample at the station, told her it was to check for diseases common for ‘her type,’ - and then the liquid had turned blue. They’d turned pale, walked out of the station, and called someone else. She’d been left in the room to get anxious, then almost three hours later, a car with tinted windows had rolled up and someone had stepped out, paid her bail, and shoved her into the back of the car with a hood over her head.

Dante

It had been rough, when his mom had remarried. Granted, his dad had been pretty much everything liberal fathers were stereotyped as being - a worthless deadbeat who blamed society for his problems and refused to take care of his family in any way - but Dante’s mom had gone and overcorrected for that problem by marrying a fascist in a nice suit and a middle manager position.

He’d started antagonizing the old man, and he’d underestimated how badly his mom had wanted to keep the marriage together. Eventually he’d found himself shipped off to what was supposed to be a military boarding school for troubled teenagers. Wasn’t like they wouldn’t believe it - he’d worn a lot of leather and cut his own hair, and these days that was enough. Had been since the riots back in ‘27.

When he’d gotten there, they’d done a basic blood test, nothing serious, they assured him. Just a basic test to make sure he wasn’t on any serious drugs. He hadn’t been too worried - all he’d ever done was weed, and even then, it had been over a year.

Then he’d gotten told he was getting pulled from that school and reassigned to a different one based on the result of the blood test.

The base was huge, barbed-wire fortifications around it - sniper towers. He’d been brought into a tiny dorm with what was either a cute trans girl or a reasonably cute crossdressing femboy, and he wasn’t entirely sure he cared which.

The other teen - he? She? - Trans pin, she - looked at him nervously, and Dante nodded. “Hey. Dante. Your name?”

“Amaryllis. They tell you anything?”

Dante shook his head. “No. How long ago did you get here?”

“Just yesterday.”

Amaryllis

She’d come to get to know Dante over several days, and let him get to know her. It was easy to stay up all night talking to someone. It wasn’t like she couldn’t talk to her friends back home, but…there was a difference between always being afraid that you could say the wrong thing, and the freedom that came from knowing that the worst that could happen from being herself had already happened. She had already been shoved out into the streets and then kidnapped into some fucked up military blacksite - that was about as bad as it got.

And hell, Dante apparently had a shitty relationship with his parents too.

And he didn’t look at her like a mutant. Fuck, he showed her a better shaving trick to stay smooth than she’d ever figured out to help with the dysphoria.

Though she could not for the life of her figure out where he’d picked it up since he was obviously the kind of guy who kept up a five o’clock shadow as a fashion statement, despite being only sixteen.

When they’d gone through their first round of testing, she’d found herself screaming, over and over, and begging to be let out, but Dante had stayed cold. Told her, after, that all fascists wanted was to hear you beg, and he was never going to give them that satisfaction.

When they’d gone to the shooting range, and been shouted at by the drill sergeant, some guy named Richards, she’d seen him flinching, trying not to pull away from the gun. He’d stayed cool, because of course he had. But…

When they’d been racking the guns, she’d asked. “What’s got you flinching so hard on the range?”

He’d frozen for a second. Then he’d sighed. “My stepdad. Mom married him when I was ten, after my biodad split. He said I was a giant pussy, and…I used to feed this feral cat, right? And…hey, you grew up in Tennessee. You know how abusive rednecks teach their kids that guns are for real, right? Well, apparently, rich assholes with fucked up ideas about masculinity take notes.”

Amaryllis did. “I’m so sorry.”

Dante shrugged. “She was so soft, and…I can remember how I felt, opening that box, and seeing what I’d done…” He shuddered. “It’s hard to shoot without thinking about it. And if we’re going to be fighting…I need to get over it.”

“You shouldn’t.”

He’d shoved her in the shoulder. “I need to watch your back, right? And we’re gonna need to blast our way out of this shitshow eventually. The higher ups already let something slip, there’s other kids like us at another base like this, and we’re gonna be meeting them eventually.”

Amaryllis had felt her heart race when he’d said it. More like them? “Team up and go?”

“Or team up and figure out if these fuckers are lying about the aliens. Either way, they say there’s some guy we’re supposed to be taking orders from, some Lieutenant Ascher, who calls the shots for the mutated kids. I figure we’ll get a bead on him and put him on his ass. Don’t think any guy who needs to boss around kidnapped kids will be that tough.”

Amaryllis had smiled. “Not for you, for sure. Hey, I hear we’re supposed to be doing actual drills tomorrow?”

“Oh, god, don’t remind me.”

“Lights out?”

He reached over and hit the switch.

She’d initially been mad at sharing a room - it had seemed like a slight to be shoved in the room with a boy, and knowing full well that this was totally done because Imperator didn’t acknowledge her identity didn’t make it easier. But sharing a room was rapidly becoming one of her few comforts.

The brutal physical training had been exhausting. Hiking with the gear on, especially after running, was brutal, and the lifting - she hadn’t known how much she could lift until she’d been forced to find out, but when she’d found out it had hurt like a bitch. Dante had left her in the dust on that side of things - apparently one of the few things his stepdad had been open to him doing with friends was camping trips, so he knew how to haul a pack.

Dante had started coughing on the run. He’d forced himself to keep going, visibly. The trainer had shouted at him to stop faking, because they already knew he didn’t have asthma.

Apparently, though, he did have some lung damage from smoking, marajuana mostly.

She’d read somewhere that that was the kind of thing that would clear up eventually, but for now…she slapped him on the back and told him she’d shower fast, and that he should take a long one with lots of steam.

While he was showering, she grabbed some hot tea for both of them, only to find him coming out of the shower in the nightwear, and noticing something she’d been ignoring.

“Amayrillis. What the hell happened to your shoulder?”

“Uh…must have fucked it up when I fumbled the bar on the weights, why?”

Then he was grabbing it, gently, doing some kind of massage, some kind of pressure point thing. “I can probably get some ice, if you want. Real talk though, here’s hoping the other base has a medic.”

“Heh. Yeah.” She glanced up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the fact that she was flushing at the touch.

He’d want a real girl. A horrible voice inside her head whispered. Not a freak.

He likes weird, he hates normal, he loves people who are themselves. That’s kind of his whole thing. She told herself, desperately.

“So, did they mention anything about when they’re shipping us that way?”

“Uhh…not that I know of. Hopefully soon? Sooner we see who these other people are, the better. And let’s hope the uniforms aren’t shit. Maybe a bit of leather, or like black coats? We should be allowed to look badass if we have to put up with this shit.”

They both started laughing, then Dante started coughing and Amaryllis started pushing the tea towards him as she rocked him. “Hey, hey. You okay?”

He took a shaky sip of tea. “Should be. Thanks…you steeped this perfect.” He took a slower sip. “You’re really cute when you fuss.”

“It’s mint. You should inhale the steam.” She blurted out. “Might help a little more.”

He looked at her, and she followed up. “My…brother is autistic, and my mom tried like, all the herbals. All of them. Didn’t change shit, but wound up learning a lot of actually useful stuff about herbal medicine for coughs and aches.”

Dante snorted, coughed again, and slowly inhaled a lungful of the steam before drinking. “I’d ask who’d have thought that kind of thing would be useful, but I did have a teacher who talked a lot about Operation Paperclip and NASA, so…”

“Never lose a shot, do you?”

“I do recall you asking how anyone would get tired enough of me to send me away,” he replied, wryly.

“I…really still can’t imagine ever getting tired of you.” She said, wondering if that smile on his face was actually as tender as she hoped it was.

****

Dante

Three months. Three months in this hell, no friends, no mom, but hey, no stepdad. A kickass girlfriend that he’d have loved to write to his friends about, and who he was going to have to find a way of blackmailing someone into making hormones for. All things considered, like. One, help with her dysphoria, and two, he was bi as fuck, but she did want boobs and he was not at all opposed to the concept.

And he figured if this shitshow was able to make torture-mutation juice to manufacture superheroes, they could definitely whip up normal-ass HRT.

What else had happened? Well, on the list of things he’d never forgive Imperator for, he’d been forced to admit his stepdad was right. Not about manhood, obviously, but about the fact that it was deeply satisfying to be a good shot, which he now finally was after an exhausting number of repetitions of “Shoot gun, get triggered, miss Patch, get held by Amaryllis, feel better, try again.”

On the list of things he was not expecting to be happy about but would reluctantly admit to being satisfied with - he was now a much, much better shot than his stepdad ever had been.

Then there’d been the day that he’d blown out the lights by mistake and been told his powers had manifested, and been dragged off to ‘special testing’ to find his limits.

And then there’d been the day they’d finally realized what the situation was with Amaryllis. Her reaction times were absurd - apparently “beyond what they’d believed possible, even observing other Praetorians with similar capabilities.” They’d decided that she was going to be the Praetorians’ dedicated pilot. Not even a direct combat agent. So she’d been shoved into simulations, even as he’d been asked to test himself against captured alien equipment.

Those next months had been the hardest. When they’d barely seen each other. Still, it had been good, when he’d finally been given an experimental weapon, one that let him pull static from the air and use it to power the weapon. One that let him throw a tungsten slug hard enough to punch through a tank.

Then of course, he’d seen her. Every day. Coming into the mess not in combat armor, but in a flight suit. Holy fuck she’d looked so good. If they were going to war, he could only imagine how satisfying every finished mission would be when getting home meant jumping into a drop ship with her in the cockpit.

Then, without ever being told the reason why the decision had been made, they’d been given the order that they were going to pack their shit, the experimental railgun, their few belongings, all of it, and head to the main base.

***

Amaryllis

It had been a long ride, and she hadn’t been the one flying. Instead, they’d speculated. “So, we’re meeting our team. Supposedly a medic, right?”

“Yep, and supposedly, a few people with physical powers scarier than yours.”

“Some hacker who probably knows what we had for breakfast this morning, if you listen to the guards.”

“And some guy, some…Lieutenant Ascher, who we’re supposed to be taking orders from.”

She wondered what kind of soldier would be comfortable commanding a detachment of child soldiers. Even child supersoldiers. She leaned against Dante on the narrow bench, and Dante put his arm around her.

“We’re finally going to the main base.”

“Let’s hope the rest of the team are as good as they’re cracked up to be.”

As they approached, they looked down at the grounds they’d be living in and saw something going on down there. Some kind of fire? The pilot muttered something as he got ready to put the chopper down.

Dante

When they touched down, Dante and Amaryllis left the chopper. They grabbed their gear and headed off the airstrip, meeting a skinny guy who Dante assumed was another conscript.

“You’re the new people, right? Welcome to Palatine. The rest of the team would be here but you departed Esquiline ahead of schedule, so they’re doing last minute food prep.” The other boy was shouting over the roar of the chopper. “Tradition, you know. We try to welcome newbies with a feast. Come with me. I’ll introduce you.”

“What’s your name?” Amaryllis was shouting as well.

Dante was more curious about the other boy’s remark about schedule. There’d been a schedule? How had these kids known it had changed? Their hacker?

“My name is Mark Ascher. I’m the commander of the Praetorian corps. We fought really hard to have our own chain of command. Echo tells me one of you is Dante and that Imperator’s records for the other name should be considered unreliable.”

Dante blinked. This was Lieutenant Ascher? This skinny nerd? Yeah, he knew more than he should have, but…then the second part of that hit. They’d fought Imperator to get their own chain of command, and this boy had earned the right to claim that honor. And then the rest - Mark already knew his name. And whoever their hacker was, this Echo…was good enough to find Amaryllis’s deadname and deduce from whatever derogatory shit Imperator had that it wasn’t the right one.

“Amaryllis.”

“Good to meet you. Come on. Food should be ready.”

Dante held out his arm to Amaryllis. If nothing else, they’d make a proper entrance to their new life.

Amaryllis remembered what she’d needed to ask. “Hey, wait. Dante, there’s supposed to be that medic here, we can get your lungs looked at.”

Mark’s head snapped around. “What’s up? Asthma?”

Dante groaned. “No, just a little bit of damage from smoking.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Good timing getting here. Sit down at the table, Shiloh can unfuck your lungs.” He walked over, and flashed a dozen rapid fire gestures at someone, who gestured back. “They say you’re an idiot but that they’re seeing more and more evidence looking at Koleth’s notes that we might be immune to cancer, so hey, silver lining. Regular checkups if you’re dumb enough to keep doing it. They also said to sit down over there.”

Dante took the orders dumbly - this all sounded insane to him.

Then a person who somehow looked even more genderqueer than Amaryllis had in that patchwork dress he’d first seen her in decided to slam their hands against his back, and briefly make him feel like his lungs were itching on the inside, like the linings were about to crawl out.

Then he felt amazing.

“Thank you.” He turned to the medic.

A huge blonde guy whose shirt only barely contained his muscles shrugged. “Shiloh is deaf/mute. They can talk, they don’t. And they only wear hearing aids when they have to.”

Dante blinked. The other guy held out a big hand. “Jonathan Mason. The medic is Shiloh Winters. You’ll get used to everyone here. Me and Shys did and we’ve been here for years now.”

Years. Holy shit. “Can you tell them thanks for me?”

Jonathan signed slowly, and then nodded. “They say ‘welcome.’ Now eat something, and they’re going to as well. We’ve been getting bugged for days that satellites picked up something, and Echo is pretty sure we’re going to be called on action soon.”

Dante sat down next to Amaryllis and found her already talking to some girl with a midwest accent, and glanced over and saw a large African American boy arguing with a white dude with a fashy crew cut, but both of them seemed ready to start shoving or start laughing.

A few younger kids - a redheaded girl, a blonde boy, and a girl with dirty brown hair - were eating over at another table, and he could tell both the former two were fixated on the third. Which had to be unfortunate for the little ginger, because she had a huge cross around her neck, as though it was there to ward off the gay thoughts that were clearly making her every moment a torment.

Fuck it, closet doors exist to be kicked down.

He pulled Amaryllis in for a quick kiss, and after the tension about arriving here she melted into it easily.

Then he saw the eyes of the girl Amaryllis had been talking to - and their fixation on the too-young Lieutenant.

Alright. Not the worst place to wind up.

He started digging into the food - and he hadn’t gotten far when the alarms started going off.

#writeblr #project praetorian #writers on tumblr #original fiction #original science fiction #science fiction #traumatized characters #found family #my writing

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velvetures · 2 years ago

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Honorifics

A/N: Yeah... I don't know about this. I'll probably take it down since I'm unsure if it's got enough of a consistent vibe. Let me know if it's actually something you enjoy since I don't write angst or hurt/comfort often. I ALWAYS WRITE HAPPY ENDINGS THO. That's a damn promise. Summary: You've given Ghost a title he hates, and takes it out on you. The situation goes too far, and you're both left trying to figure it out. Reader is nicknamed "Brass" since she's a long-distance shooter/sniper. T/W: angst, cursing, Ghost being an emotionally unstable human, yelling, the reader having a breakdown, smidge of not eating, smidge of not drinking anything, comfort, feelings, female reader, not proofread.

When you joined the task force, things didn’t exactly go as smoothly as you had hoped it would. Training sessions usually ended up with you either getting your ass beat or nearly surviving a full-on embarrassment by the skin of your teeth just to be told that you still weren’t in good enough shape to keep up with them in the field. Surely being a woman didn’t excuse you from being in shape for the kind of work Laswell and Price had brought you in for, but damn if it wasn’t difficult to try and have a one-on-one fight with someone like Soap or Ghost without the benefit you would typically have in a real-world battle situation. The reality that all of the men in the squad were literally the best of the best aside, there could be just barely enough room for you to compete on the same level when it came to sheer physical strength. While that wasn’t your specialty anyway, the Captain made it clear you needed to prove you could handle your own against serious physical fights without assistance. After nearly five weeks of having one of your squad mates slam you on your ass one too many times in the training hall, you finally were able to prove to Price that you could go out in the field and he didn’t have to extend any extra worries for your ability to survive.

Logistically as a sniper, it meant you frequently held a much more distant role in missions. By watching from a scope you could ensure that infiltrations, covert ops, and other hush-hush kinds of operations that typically the 141 wouldn’t have the luxury of. Being the skilled marksman you were, it made sense to take advantage of your talents and also extend you a job that progressed past what you’d experienced in your “standard” military career and multiple tours overseas. However, that meant communications were essentially the backbone of your usefulness aside from your rifle. Next to nothing else, your daily and mission-based work almost exclusively went through Lieutenant Ghost. Which… often proved to be the largest obstacle that you faced aside from making sure that your scope didn’t get bumped off sight the -often- rough flights and drives to insertion points.

The Lieutenant was particularly mean… he certainly didn’t give a single thought to if anyone thought that he was a little too harsh of a personality to swallow. That went for everything you came to learn about Ghost. From his lack of willingness to speak unless required of him, to his unique ability of appearing and disappearing from anywhere without the slightest sound or hint of where he’d come from or gone to. Trained as a distance marksman, even you were impressed that such a massive man could move around like smoke on water. That and his physical appearance; good god above. Surely a man like Ghost had never graced the face of the Earth before, else he’d have been just as mythical in his legendary life and would’ve been known by thousands of people. He stood towering over just about everyone, in whatever room he was in, and compared to your own height it was downright laughable the difference between the two of you as operators.

The one thing that made the biggest impression on you after meeting the Lieutenant was his voice and how he spoke. That thick accent always sounded rough and a little gritty. His deep timbre gave such a commanding authority that if given the choice between getting yelled at by Captain Price or Ghost… there was no choice you’d sit for hours listening to Price threaten you over Ghost. He just sounded so scary and attractive all at the same time. Unsurprisingly, it developed into a subconscious dynamic where you saw Ghost as such a superior officer -and human- that no matter how much you liked to daydream about Ghost in less-than-professional situations… You gave him the utmost respect at all times. Easiest of all to recognize was that from day one, you had never addressed Ghost to his face as anything other than ‘sir’. Not even his rank gave enough nuance to his character and presence, so for you, Ghost was inextricably attached to the name.

Ghost however… didn’t like it.

Such a simple address actually made Ghost grit his teeth beneath the shield of his mask. When he heard you call him that, he automatically related it to how he had called General Shepherd ‘sir’ as a subtle sign of mockery and defiance. Thinking about that made him more than necessarily angry and confused, but he couldn’t really accuse you of having ever been given much of a reason to detest him. Therefore, he had to come to the conclusion that you were doing it out of some kind of respect that a drill sergeant or boot camp instructor had bashed into your brain so hard that it stuck permanently. Not surprising since you were much different from the rest of the task force. Yet he had to revise that after the first six months of you being with them permanently. You had gotten settled in. Enough so that you called the Captain, ‘Cap’… Soap, ‘Johnny’… and Garrick, ‘Gaz’ like everyone else did. Exceptionalities only appeared when it came time for you to be around him or have any sort of interaction that wasn’t the occasional silent nod of acknowledgment when walking past each other in the hallways.

He honestly tried to ignore it and you altogether for that matter in an attempt to keep his bitter anger at a minimum. Seeing such a small and fucking happy woman always lingering around somewhere in the corners of his sight couldn’t be anything but a distraction waiting to happen. A bad habit that he didn’t have the mental capacity or emotional willingness to take on. Fuck… he already had to worry about the 141 as a whole, to begin with. Now you on top of that? It was more responsibility than he’d signed up for initially. Hearing you call him ‘sir’ day in and day out began to take its toll on his self-control. Ghost needed to either find out why you were hellbent on calling him that, or at least be enough of a bastard to you to be reassured that you did it because you wanted a polite way to tell him to shove it up his ass sideways.

The Lieutenant had been being nothing short of a prick in the last few months.

He was making paperwork back at HQ a nightmare that couldn’t be solved alternatively through someone like Gaz or Soap who often didn’t mind playing the part of the unbiased third party. Refusing to sign things when you stopped by his office, outright ignoring your necessary questions, and stonewalling you at every single stop along the way just to yield at the last moment and do everything you’d been asking for so the both of you wouldn’t face heat from any higher-ups. That alone was enough for you to consider talking to Soap privately since he knew Ghost the best… but you’d kept putting it off hoping that it was just a passing phase of shitty attitude.

Your patience and emotional strength fell through the floor after attempting for the third time in a week after something so fucking simple as trying to get his approval and official signature on a post-mission report Price had delegated to you after being called to Washington D.C. for a meeting. It wasn’t a major task, but knowing that the Captain had given you the responsibility first over anyone else made you want to impress him and take care of business without incident. God forbid you do something as simple as ask Ghost to pick up a pen and scribble his name at the bottom of a page so that you could send it on through the higher-up channels. It resulted in the Lieutenant straight-up yelling at you in the middle of the hallway outside his office when he’d found you standing there patiently waiting for him to show up. He wasn’t threatening physically, but it cut much deeper into your pride and feelings than it should have.

With every word that dripped venomously out of his masked mouth, you lost a little extra peace of mind on having such an untouchable and unshakably good opinion of Ghost for so long. This moment of undeserved verbal punishment was enough to make the corners of your eyes burn with inner disgrace, self-doubt, and plain old sadness which motivated you to get the hell out of there before the Lieutenant saw you cry. When you turned your back and walked away right in the middle of his berating for you being “too fucking annoying to tolerate”, your only destination was your personal quarters on the other end of the building where a lock on the door could shut out the entire base for as long as you saw fit. Upon the first estimation, it would be after Captain Price returned so that you could have at least one single chance at not getting a second punishment or dismissal from the squad. The sound of your door slamming shut and your back sliding down against it on your way down to the floor silenced the entire room around you, leaving just enough room for the papers clenched to your chest to flutter onto the ground and your weak cries to sounds amplified.

It was hours before you could drag yourself off the floor and into bed, too tired and wanting to fall back on the trained and instinctual desire to hide away somewhere isolated and not move for hours on end. Being a long-distance marksman gave you the talent of patience insurmountable to the average person, allowing days to pass by without you needing to do more than go to the bathroom before coming right back to a motionless position. That’s what you wanted tonight. You needed to focus all of your energy into your brain alone and use it to sort through the hurt burning through your eyes and throat, and the questioning that gave such a sickening feeling a chance root in your stomach. Questions of if it had been foolish to trust Ghost as much as you did the others, knowing how you’d been warned that he would be difficult to work with. Hoping you hadn’t been truly so ignorant of judging behavior to think that the Lieutenant was something much greater than his behavior had been not only today but for the past months.

The next two days were spent laying near motionless… not hungry or thirsty.

Just thinking, sleeping, and staring at the wall across from your bed.

A solid knock on your door was the first human sound that hadn’t been made by you in over forty-eight hours. You’d not looked at your phone or any communications since locking yourself inside, and there was a good chance someone from the squad had come searching for you after such a long period without seeing or hearing from you. When you refused to answer right away, another harder knock banged on the door twice and rattled the steel in its doorframe. Impatient. Testy. Quite familiar with everything you’ve been through lately. Recognizing the Lieutenant was the one outside made your gut churn all over again. Questioning whether to get up or not wasn’t hard. Laying perfectly still in bed, you waited. If you were being honest though, it’d been a long time since you’d spent so long restricting yourself from basic needs for the purpose of acting like a living phantom. Close to three years since any sniper position had left you utterly abandoned without resources. Only this time it was self-induced and nothing short of a trauma response you wanted to hide away from. Truthfully you couldn’t tell if walking to the door was an easy feat or not. After not drinking anything, using the bathroom wasn’t necessary and the last time you’d stood up didn’t cross your memory clearly.

Ghost slammed his fist against the door again one last time. But he didn’t wait long enough for you to answer before rattling the handle to the door with a heavy sigh that was audible through the cracks separating you. Metal on metal gritted softly and moved the door handle a bit further. Recognizing that as nothing short of Ghost picking the lock to your quarters without the slightest care of how he’d be breaking multiple stipulations laid out for them living in HQ. Either your physical or mental state kept you from giving a damn when the handle gave way fully, leaving a bright fluorescence light flooding in from the hallway into your pitch-black room. It made your eyes water and the urge to turn your head away was strong enough to budge your head into the blankets and pillow surrounding. Heavy boots made the paperwork scattered on the floor crunch softly and the sound of his deep breaths gave away his current state of frustration. Clearly not appreciating being locked out of a room that he had no fucking business being in. A long pause led to shuffling around, and the sound of your desk chair creaking under his weight.

“Gonna say somethin’?” He sounded no less irritated than the last time you’d spoken.

It made your throat burn to even think you’d allowed his to get in your head so deeply just to utterly rip every last bit of security and respect away from you for no damn reason. Your silence made quite the statement, even if the actual task of speaking hadn’t been a totally voluntary one. You’d not moved your jaw in days at this point.

“You’ve missed five drill sessions, two mandatory meetings, and one phone from General Shepherd.”

Listing off your offenses hardly bothered you. The consequences of this had been fully accepted days ago, and Ghost would have to do a lot more to get you up from this bed. You’d trained for hell, and no matter how badly Ghost had ruined your almost loving and patient view of him there weren’t enough men on the planet to make you get up voluntarily. Drastic… yes. Satisfying to your own pride… undoubtedly. When you didn’t even let out a single breath loud enough for Ghost to hear instead of that instant apology or willingness to appease him… please him even, with that little quip of ‘sir’ ready on your tongue, the Lieutenant was up out of that chair so quickly you heard it roll into the wall behind him hard enough to thud against the drywall.

“Goddamn it Brass, I demand a fuckin’ answer!” His loud bark caught your attention, but the feeling of your blankets being ripped off your body was a far more startling sensation.

Baring you to the cold air of the room, all your body managed was to raise chills on your skin in a feeble attempt to keep you warm or alert you to seek out that heat again. Tension exploded into shocked silence when Ghost didn’t utter more than a sharp inhale after getting one, shadowed glimpse of your body totally frozen on your stomach. You knew it couldn’t look great. Snipers could come back looking like skeletons sometimes after a long mission if they were given the orders to stay put. You’d not been laying nearly long enough for that to be the case, but dehydration was certainly a symptom you were ignoring quite easily, as well as the possibility of some minor pressure ulcers that would linger for a few weeks if you didn’t move soon. Ghost wasn’t as familiar with the sight of how you felt internally. Snipers weren’t commonly used or in collaboration with Task Force 141. You’d been their first real look at how the inner workings moved or didn’t, and much of your personal way of doing things had dispelled or blown away any misguided assumptions they’d made about your skills early on. Viewing a sniper after days of doing literally nothing, of her own free will…? That wasn’t healthy or accepted in general military companies. Lucky Ghost got the front-row seat though.

When you heard his movement next to you, weight pressed down the mattress at your side in the shape of his hands, and a low sigh registered.

“Brass…” Failing to even say something, you wondered if your own assessment of yourself wasn’t accurate. “It’s been five days.” His faltered tone was truthful, and it destroyed your semblance of time that had been misled by the absence of sunlight coming in through your room.

You thought about trying to say something, resolve falling flat when swallowing felt difficult. A gloved hand rested against your thigh and Ghost almost growled again, sounding a lot more like he was resisting the urge to squeeze you hard. Only his fingers traced along your hip and over the curve in your waist with a tense and heavy swallow. He was being gentle beyond your concept of his depth of emotion and understanding. Nearly loving as he paused over your ribcage with another pinched sort of sound. Staying like that for what felt like hours, you struggled to keep yourself awake. It had been a struggle to move your tongue in your mouth, testing what mobility you’d lost in the short term. Only Ghost wasn’t leaving like you expected, and suddenly his voice returned it its normal stature.

“This’s Ghost. Get a bay ready now, I’m bringin’ someone in.” The reverb of his voice crackled in a radio you knew hooked to his vest. A backup short-range alternative in the case that SAT couldn’t be established or wasn’t clear enough to rely on in the field. Apparently, he used it to keep in contact with someone on base. Or multiple people for all you knew.

“Copy Ghost.” A static voice could be heard and quickly the room was pitched back into a silence you wanted to remain in, but Ghost was adamant to keep infracting alone with a whole list of other rules that, for whatever reason, just didn’t fucking matter or apply to him.

His other hand searched around the dark until he found your face resting amongst the fabric of your bed, curling his hand around your head and meticulously lifting you so very slowly away from the bed with his other arm steadying your legs that had also been taken up off the mattress. You’d never touched Ghost once in all the time you’d known him. Understanding that with his sour attitude, there couldn’t be a single chance in Hell that touching him was an acceptable action. Whereas with Soap, Gaz, and even on occasion Price: hugs, handshakes, shoves, and other physical touches were common, Ghost totally ignored all human contact. Maybe Hell had frozen over outside of your quarters for your weak and still motionless body to be lifted up against the Lieutenant’s chest and carried preciously outside of your room into the burning light of HQ. His chest heaved deep and quickly against you. Both hands curled around you and flexed tighter each time you were able to hear another set of shoes approaching closer to you. Possessive like a soldier. Silent like a Ghost. Determined.

He takes you straight to the medical hall where three nurses and two of the on-shift doctors are fast to respond to your condition. Only Ghost refuses to let them take you away from him for any reason. Stoically stonewalling them just like he habitually did to you as they begged him to lay you down on a transport bed so they could take you back to a room for assessment. The Lieutenant took you there himself, with the group of nurses and doctors hot on his heels and surrounding your bed once Ghost had you settled down inside a private room.

The whole place smells sterile and like alcohol. It’s not the first time you’ve been here, but these are far different circumstances. You’re still too sensitive to open your eyes, but hands are all over your body, gloves fingers touching around the sore places on weight-bearing points on your body, pricks in your fingertips, and a needle poke to the back of your hand. It’s overstimulating, to say the least, and you’re worried they’re going to think you’ve tried to starve yourself to death or decided that living altogether wasn’t worth it and simply wasting away into your bed was the solution. Right away, one of the voices of the medical professionals breaks that worry in your mind by calling for some of the tests to be staggered, needing time between them for nothing other than your own benefit.

“Treat this no differently than prolonged active reconnaissance,” The female voice states softly. “Being on-the-gun for this long is detrimental to all senses, and she’s going to need a while to wake up in a meaningful way.” She added, voice coming clearer the closer she got to your head.

“You’ve been working very hard, I suspect. Maybe not in the field… but you’re one tough lady.” She commented to you quite personally, her hand falling to your shoulders. “We’re going to get you plenty of fluids and start you on a vitamin drip to get everything running as it should again. You’ve also got some slight bedsores, but as long as we take care of them now, you’ll be right as rain soon, sniper.”

Tests were run, treatments began, and nurse after nurse was brought in with both doctors running rotations in and out of your room for the rest of the night. All of them were under the hard watch of Ghost who’d not moved from his position sitting in the corner of your room where he could see not only you but anyone approaching the door. He’d been very quiet throughout the process, watching and waiting for someone to give him some news about your condition with actual certainty. Stewing over the guilt he felt knowing damn well he was the reason you’d shut down so far and were still unable -or unwilling- to come out of it yet. You’d been nothing but the perfect little woman, doing her job with skill and grace, making everyone around you happier just with one glance in your direction. But fuck, he couldn’t stand seeing someone do the callous profession of killing people with one single squeeze of her finger and still have so much innocent and emotional humanity inside such a small body. Ghost couldn’t wrap his mind around it. So instead of trying to do the right thing and figure it out, he did what a man so out of touch with empathy did: Try to snuff it out.

You threatened him whether you or he realized it in the beginning.

But now he could see it with that crystal fucking clear hindsight. How monstrous he was for punishing you with no foundation other than his own selfish fear of seeing a dynamic he didn’t know was possibly wrapped up inside of you. Sweet and little you, never saying anything to him other than a ‘yes sir’ or ‘no sir’. Goddamnit Ghost knew he’d nearly killed you in a way. Seeing days of neglect in your sallow expression, darkened under eyes, and weakened body was more than even his cold heart could take all at one time. Wasting away for someone as useless as himself, all because he’d never given you enough credit for finding something worth liking in him where no one else had. Screaming at you. Cursing your existence. Right in your face, while he’d been too big of a pussy to even take off his own mask he hid behind every day as he utterly destroyed your meaningful position and life working alongside of his and his squad. Owing you his life wouldn’t nearly cover his offenses. Laughably, Ghost admitted his own life or death couldn’t measure up to yours. So instead of saying any kind of bullshit apology, he sat in the corner of your room and denied himself sleep, food, and water because there wasn’t anything else he could do until you’d been considered healthy and strong again.

Almost one week to the day you had been signed off for return to duty with zero restrictions. Your physical and mental evaluations came back clean, and with both Price and Ghost signing off on the doctor’s orders, you returned to your quarters where you expected to see your room exactly as you’d left it before Ghost brought you into the medical wing. Only nothing was as you’d left it. All the paperwork left on the floor was gone, as well as the other documents that had been left on your desk that still needed finishing. All of it was gone. Your bed and all of the bedclothes you’d been taken from were also missing. Replaced with totally brand new bedding in dark hues of dark green and navy blue with a decidedly feminine pattern on the quilt. Items you didn’t own. Or have any idea where they came from. Even the smell of stale air was traded for a woody, and familiar smell that wasn’t of a candle, or room spray; It was from a person. The person who sat in the corner of your room in your desk chair with his massive arms crossed over his chest and dark eyes staring at you through the painted visage of a skull gracing a black compression mask.

“Sir,” You greet hoarsely, still working through some of the non-significant parts of your recovery that lingered. Ghost stood from his seat and met you halfway across your room with a silent nod, his hand reaching out and motioning for you to step closer to him. Warily but complicit, you make the few steps forward and watch his hand turn to slide against your jaw and stay there firmly. “I expected you to be at drill.” You say with a tinge of surprise at the touch of his bare hand resting against your cheek.

“Should be,” He replied flatly. “But I’m not.” You nod a little, biting your tongue when his fingertip rubs over the curve of your ear. His eyes were soft and his unarmored physique was highlighted by the shadows made by the lamp on your side table. He’s inspecting you, you know as much. Clear by his thumb pressing over your pulse point and the minute exactly that he waits before speaking again.

“Do you like the color green?” His question knocks you off guard and his eyes slide over the quilt laying neatly over your bed. You were quick to answer honestly out of mere habit.

“Yes, sir.”

His hand stiffens against your cheek, and Ghost takes another step closer. His boots graze the tips of yours and his chin is nearly tucked against his chest to look down at you properly. You’re breathing a little harder, anticipating another break of his patience and an onslaught of screaming all directed at your apparent mistakes made right in front of his face. Judgments you’d still be unable to solve no matter how much you thought about it or what you did to try and find a solution of healthy -or not- motives. Ghost doesn’t yell though. He actually lowers his face down to yours, eyes locked right on you and an intensity burning there.

“Why do you call me that?” His low growl made you shiver, especially when his hand dropped lower to your throat. Now squeezing, but holding your gaze steady on him, reminding you of his strength. The power over you he’d always held, and given you the instant to call him ‘sir’ in the first place. Everything about Ghost was overwhelming, and you’d always been one wave away from drowning under him.

“You deserve the honor…” You answer, certain. Even if he’d broken your spirit and came back in the aftermath with questions you still believed to be much too complex for a single-sentence answer. Hopefully, he understood a little bit better but the way you leaned against his hand, letting him actually feel the pressure of your throat pressing into his palm. Literally offering your trust in him over again, testing the Lieutenant and watching as his eyes widened. His other hand came up to your face, counteracting the pressure you’d applied to keep your breath and blood flow uninterrupted. His face is still only inches away from yours but unflinching at the close contact.

“Brass,” He murmured, masked face teasing closer with his own lack of control. “I’m not what you think I am.” Your chest tightens with his words, soaked in desperation that heats your lips and cheeks.

“What’s that, sir?” You question, earning another flinch of his fingers against your skin.

“Safe… Trustworthy… Honorable.” He replies, getting even closer. The smooth material ghosted over your lips, and his breathing fanning over you wetly through the damp material. You sigh, feeling lightheaded. Weak in his hands, confused yet happy to have your life held in the palms of his hands. Confused about where his mistrust comes from, but gaining perspective every time he flinches when you address him in the way you always believed he’d feel the most revered and… loved.

“You’re wrong,” You challenge, hands moving from your sides to run up the thin shirt covering his chest. “You’re a man of fear. One that death shakes at the mention of. Even looking at you through my scope a mile away is enough to remind me you’re capable of inhuman things…” Your voice lowers, hearing thoughts straight from your soul escaping without filter from your brain. “Yet you’re human. So much more than anyone sees. Because it’s not evil that keeps you going. It’s the fear and hatred of losing anything that means something to you.” Your hand rests over his chest, hearing his heart thundering against his ribs.

“You’re not a monster, you are terrified of losing everything. That is why I call you ‘sir’, is because you’re a man unlike any other, Ghost.”

Hearing your own voice say his name like that feels so foreign. Coming off your tongue with the letters not fitting together in a way that you’d experienced. But Ghost… he reacts differently. His hands tightened around you and he hugged you against his chest tightly. His chest heaves up and down and the thunder of his heartbeat impossibly quickens until your left ear can’t hear anything but the repetitive thrum of blood coursing through his body. Heavy arms snake around you, one around your head to secure it to him and the other clinging to your waist with his hand fisting into your shirt until it’s skin-tight on your stomach. The Lieutenant practically shakes against you, using your much smaller frame to steady himself.

Yet he’s dropping to one knee on the ground, bringing you down with him until he’s nearly cradling you and softly rocking your weight back and forth. Soothing himself in much the same way a child would after scraping their knee on the sidewalk and the tears have begun to dry up. God, it made the massive man feel so weak; much like you did after he’d yelled at you a week ago. Both of you kneeled on the floor now with all of your wounds opened up to each other and had silently found a calm within the eye of a destructive storm that had been raging against the pair of you while everyone on the outside had been simply looking on with bated breath to see how the ending would play out.

“Brass - I…” Ghost’s voice choked up again, his arms tightening around you. “God, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t ignore you anymore… I’m losing my mind.”

You lean into his chest harder, arms struggling to reach all the way around his wide back in an attempt to support him a little bit. You understood through the way he was grabbing at anything on you he could desperately. So you did all you could and rubbed your hand up and down his back quietly allowing him the time to work through his thoughts. Both of you had been hurt by this, and while the Lieutenant’s form of apology came in the way he’d ushered you for help when you needed it most and unquestionably been the reason behind the way your quarters looked. Now it was you, cradling a man who’d never shown a single crack in his armor, feeling the weight of so many emotional wounds that he was practically bleeding out with pain and palpable regret.

“You don’t have to…” You whisper, resting your forehead against his.

Ghost just nods his head, panting heavily and giving a low sort of whine. “I’m so sorry…”

You smile sadly. “I’m sorry too.”

His eyes soften more, blinking away at wetness brimming at his waterline. “Say it again… please. I need to hear it. God, please.”

“It’s okay…” Your hands cradle his cheeks, feeling the sharp lines and hard muscles. “I’m right here, Ghost. We’re going to do this over again… Together, Ghost.”

Nodding weakly, he meets your gaze as you say his name again. Reveling in it. “Together… together, with you.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #velvetures writes #velvetures #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending

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stickycreatorunknown · 2 years ago

Text

Talk Code to Me (Loid Forger [Twilight] x afab!reader)

Pairing: – Loid Forger (Twilight) x (afab)!reader

Summary: You and Loid had been on missions together before, always professional and easily impressed by his work, but something about tonight is a bit different.

Warnings: (Proofread) No spoilers, 18+ Content, Minors DNI, all characters 21+, code names used, reader and Loid are pretend married, coworkers, penetration f!receiving, ejaculation, curse words

Word Count: 2.6k

/Masterlist for more ;)

He swiftly removed his jacket, the flash of it in the air quick as he threw it delicately over the back of the chair, his hands immediately going to his sleeves, sliding the cuff links from them and placing them on the table. You were a bit surprised, his movements so quick but graceful still as he stood beside the table, eyes glancing at you to his side.

“Well,” He asked, his face calm and as impatient looking as ever. He was always very serious about work, and you hadn’t imagined him to take you up on the offer you made. You had worked with him before, getting to know him only a bit but you understood his style quite well. He was efficient, every move he made had purpose and everything he did was thought out well beyond what a normal person would understand. You had initially been swept up by him as a rookie but now you were closer to his level and he had become more comfortable working with you, though his expression was always the same and you sometimes second guessed yourself around him.

He always looked impatient, possibly irritated, as if things could or should be going better. Tonight has been quite successful so far though, your mission together being simple. Trick the target into believing you're a silly love sick couple who poses no threat as you gradually close in on him. His room was beside your own and you had suggested faking sex loudly enough to let him hear. The idea was half a joke, but you should have known he wouldn’t take it as one. His confirmation was quick and clear, he had immediately stood and began undressing at least a bit before walking to the bedroom with you on his heels.

You had spoken in code all weekend so far, neither of you taking chances regarding who may be listening. He wanted this to be highly believable as well, stripping his shirt as you walked behind him, unzipping the side of your dress as you entered the bedroom. You felt a bit bashful, unsure of how far you’d be undressing to assure realism but keep each other’s privacy. Your eyes scanned his back, his frame tall and slim but his body still covered in lean muscle as he peered over his shoulder to eye you. His blonde hair was messily brushed back, his outfit professional to fit into the personality of the businessman he was playing, but hair messy and demeanor gentle to fit the role of a bit of a dopey new husband. You wore a black dress, tighter fitting and short to show the fake tattoos that riddled your legs and hips, you were playing a not so professional new wife who seemed highly flirtatious and impulsive.

“Down to underwear, then beneath the covers,” He spoke between words carefully, coded language and you nodded, slipping the dress down your body and leaving it on the floor. You wore black panties and bra, both lace and revealing as you had made sure to coyly flash the man you were targeting, getting him to become interested but let his guard down around you. You slid into the bed, tugging the covers over your lower half as you leaned back onto the pile of pillows at its head. He undid his belt, sliding his pants down and leaving him in his patterned boxer briefs, the ones he chose were very similar to the slightly embarrassing patterned swim trunks they had him wear earlier today as well. You had to admit he did look quite good though, even in the silly purple and green briefs.

He slid into the bed with you, adjusting himself to sit on his knees in front of you, spreading his legs out a bit and tugging your legs over his, giving the illusion of penetration if looked at from outside the covers. He explained his movements as he went, faking the vocabulary of a love-sick man who was happy to be fucking his wife while he actually let you in on his idea a bit more. He believed your idea was good, commending you for quick thinking as he leaned over your body carefully, hands on either side of your hips as he ruffled the blankets enough to fit the illusion. You didn’t blush, though you knew you were close to it.

“You’re quite beautiful,” Twilight said suddenly and your eyes darted back to him which were scanning your face slowly.

“Thank you,” You were surprised because this wasn’t about the mission, nor was there code hidden in it. His voice had shifted a bit, less stern and serious now.

“Did you suggest this to get closer to me?” He asked between his words, and you did blush this time, slightly annoyed at yourself for the heat that rose to your face.

“Well, I did think it would be helpful to the mission as well,” You said, slightly dancing around the question while still answering. He nodded, shifting a bit to scoot your body down, your legs further apart as your thighs brushed against his hips, your hips tilted up towards him. You bit your lip, wanting to touch him for real suddenly but not wanting to compromise anything.

“It could be a bit more realistic,” He started speaking, leaning down to let his lips brush against the shell of your ear, his voice a soft whisper. “If you let yourself go a little bit,” You nearly shivered, goosebumps rising to your skin as you could feel the heat of his breath on your cheek. You were a bit tense, stuck between wanting to keep professional with him while also wanting so badly to let go. You relaxed a bit, putting your hands up to slowly trail over his shoulders, one hand sliding up into his hair and tangling into it. Your eyes met his and he had a smirk on his face, his lips dangerously close to yours.

“Just like that,” He whispered, teasing his lips against yours as his big hands started to stroke your thighs, running up and down them as his fingertips grazed the lace of your panties.

Twilight, you thought to yourself, being so sensual? In the middle of a mission?

The idea of him putting a mission second was foreign to you, but maybe this was for the mission? His voice was different though, and the way he touched you didn’t feel as clinical as it did when he was all business.

“You really feel like this right now?” You asked in code, running one hand down his back slowly, winding your arm around his waist. He chuckled softly, the vibrations heavy in his chest before he answered. He scooted you down onto the bed, placing you flat on your back now as you gasped when you felt his hips press into you, his erection obvious as your legs spread a bit for him.

“You tell me,” He whispered, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your neck, making you shiver. You rolled your hips between him and the bed, grinding yourself up against his erection as you tightened your arm around his waist, tugging his body closer to yours. He smirked softly against your skin, trailing feather light kisses down your neck and across your shoulder, your head tilting back automatically to make room for him as he went. Your eyes fell closed as you toyed with his blonde hair between your fingers, arching your body up into his own to feel his skin press into your own, his hard chest keeping you beneath him as your legs wrapped around him. His hands trailed up your thighs, roaming over your hips and waist delicately, his palms a bit rough but hands so gentle as he teased the hem of your underwear with his thumbs.

You were still stuck somewhere between shock and want as you started to shift your body for him, his hands tugging down your underwear slowly. His lips trailed down your chest, kisses still soft as he grazed his lips between your breasts, tongue dipping beneath your bra and running along your soft skin slowly. You let him remove your panties, tossing them aside before he worked his way between your legs again, pressing his body back into your own, parting your folds with his erection and wetting his boxers with your slick.

“Well that answers my question,” He whispered, a smirk evident on his face even though your eyes were still closed. You opened your eyes for a moment, tilting his head up by the hold on his hair to look into his eyes.

“And what was that?” You asked, his eyes hooded with something new and your cheeks turned a brighter red suddenly.

“Wanted to know exactly how you’re feeling right now,” His hand was quick as it unclasped your bra behind you, surprising you as the straps fell loosely from your shoulders and his hand carefully tugged it from your body.

“But I can tell pretty easily,” His voice was low as he leaned in again, lips hovering above your own as his other hand trailed between your legs, his body moving enough to let his fingers slide between your folds, making you gasp involuntarily at the sensation. He grinned, removing his fingers just as quickly as he slid them down.

“This is okay, isn’t it?” He asked softly, eyes scanning your face as you nodded, leaning up into his lips to whisper your answer into them.

“Yes,” Your lips melded together, the kiss heavy and his fingers back upon your needy clit, your body responding instantly with a shiver and a few soft moans sliding across his tongue as you let it pass your lips. His fingers were skillful, easily toying with your clit enough to make you whimper for him, your body arching up into his own as your hands took tight hold of his shoulders. You felt his fingers prod at your entrance, sliding delicately around your sex, the slow circles enough to make you whine.

“Loid,” You whispered, his code name slipping past your lips as he pulled from the kiss.

“Yes?” He asked softly, lips now trailing down your neck once more, his other hand slow as it trailed down your side, his hand cupping your breast gently before giving it a squeeze and flicking his thumb across your nipple.

“Finger me,” You said, feeling bold but your voice still gentle with the command. He grinned against your skin, giving in to your request instantly. His two fingers slid into your dripping sex, pushing against your plush walls as he reached in deeply, letting his thumb take over the teasing of your clit.

“Ah-!” You gasped, tilting your head back as your legs spread a bit wider, letting him reach deeply into you as he curled his fingers perfectly against the spot inside you that you made your legs shake.

“There you go,” He whispered softly, hand winding around beneath your back to pull your arched body into his, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you felt the lean muscle beneath them. The mix of stimulation was perfect, his thumb moving quickly and fingers graceful inside you, his lips still trailing across your skin as you felt your bodies pressed so closely together.

“Y/n?” He whispered against your ear, your code name suddenly sounding sultry on his lips.

“Hm?” The whimper was all you could manage.

“I want to fuck you now,” He said, teeth careful as they bit down on the shell of your ear and your hips jutted a bit into his own.

“Please do,” You whined, his body reacting quickly as he sat up, easily removing and discarding his boxers before taking firm hold of your thighs with his hands, spreading your legs and pushing them down out of his way. Your eyes lazily scanned him, drinking him in as you let yourself peer down to his erection. It stood against him, thicker than you had imagined and suddenly you were blushing again, realizing you had in fact thought before of what his cock might look like. It was better than anticipated, especially when he began to rub it against it, wetting it between your lips. You gripped the sheets at your sides, head tilting back when you felt his tip trail between your lips across your sensitive clit. He bit his own lip now, watching your face as it contorted with pleasure, your cheeks a soft pink and your lips parted slightly to let out your gasping breaths as you waited for him to penetrate you.

“O-Oh!” You whimpered, feeling the thickness of just his tip as he prodded it against your entrance, stretching you slowly as he let you feel him. You were tight around him, squeezing him already as the sensation of his cock filled you, every inch given to you slowly as he let you get used to the feeling. Once he was buried inside you your hips were tilted and your back arched once more, your body moving easily to accommodate for his size as he let himself rest inside you, hips against you and balls pressed firmly against your ass. He kept hold of your thighs, keeping your legs apart for him as he slowly and carefully rutted his hips against you, shifting the feeling of the weight of his cock inside you, making you whimper all over again.

“Fuck,” You whined out, his smirk returning as he pulled himself from you, not completely as he needed to keep steady while he pushed himself back into you, filling you much more quickly this time. He moved his hips easily, rolling them skillfully against you to keep friction on your clit as his cock buried itself deeply inside you with each thrust. You could felt your orgasm coming already, your eyes rolling back as he kept your shaking legs steady, grinning as he watched your body twitch.

“There you go,” He spoke, voice sultry and deep, “Cum for me,” He practically demanded and you immediately gave in. Your pussy pulsed and your body shook, back arching suddenly as you gripped the sheets tighter and let yourself go completely.

“Fuck yes,” You moaned out, the feeling growing inside your stomach and causing your pussy to squeeze so tight you could practically feel his cock throb inside of you. He bit his lip, letting out a few small groans of his own as he felt your walls keeping him in, practically swallowing him with each thrust of his hips. He shifted suddenly, hands beside you as he leaned his weight on them, letting your legs wrap around his hips as he bucked them into you, not done fucking you yet. He fucked you through your orgasm, your body twitching as he leaned down to kiss you once more, your lips moving together a bit more sloppily.

“I’m going to pull out so I can,” He started to speak but a little groan interrupted his sentence as he removed his cock from you suddenly, your pussy still pulsing as your body came down. You felt it across your stomach, hot and slick as it shot out between the two of you. Your lips went back to his, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him locked in the kiss as his hand carefully squeezed out every last drop onto your stomach. The kiss grew softer, his body shifting a bit as his hand searched around the bed for something to clean you up with before he sat up and laid a loose edge of the sheet across you.

“We’ll get new sheets, no problem,” He said, more to himself than to you, but you smiled anyway, nodding as he trailed gentle hands over your sides, eyes locked onto yours for another few moments.

#smut #fluff #spy x family #spy family #sxf #loid forger #twilight #spy x family smut #spy x family loid #loid x reader #loid forger x reader #loid x you #loid x y/n #loid forger x you #loid forger x y/n #loid forger smut #spy x family fanfiction #spyxfamily

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graysnetwork · 2 years ago

Note

Mayybe you could write some headcanons for keegan with.. first time? :^3

Or a short drabble in a similar context, if you want ofc eheh

hii tysm for the request!! i hope you like this cuz i made this as head cannons and a drabble at the end.

FIRST TIME - Keegan Russ X AFAB READER

Notes - i made sure to make the oneshot at the end 500 words exactly 💀🤷🏻‍♀️

Warnings: nsfw obvi, breeding kink in the oneshot

Summary: Your first time with Keegan is the sweetest thing ever

Keegans already very passionate when it comes to sex

When he learns that its your first time he's almost worried, he asks questions like

"are you sure you want to do this with me?" "I wont rush you" "You want me?"

Things like that, because he feels so honored and special that he'll be the first person to be so intimate with you.

Keegans gonna be getting you ready all evening to begin with.

As I've said in my nsfw hc's, he's a man that loves thighs, and loves whats in between them, so trust he will be eating you out first.

Keegan will be placing kisses on your thighs, making hickeys and basically be impressing his initials on your thighs for only him to see.

Keegans gonna be in between your thighs for a while, lapping at your folds so he makes an agreement to a safe word, just in case it becomes too much for you, and he takes it seriously, because he would never want to make it a bad experience for you.

Keegans going to make sure your not uncomfortable with him

(ik other writers sometimes write that character want to see everything)

thats not Keegan, if you don't want him to touch or see certain things than he wont, and he'll wait for you to be ready, in no way is he even gonna try to convince you to show him something you don't want to.

If your embarrassed about stretch marks at all, he's gonna tell you how its not serious and he loves it, it makes you even more beautiful

by this point he's hard as a rock

So once you guys get to actually taking him

He'll take it slow, however long it takes for you to adjust to his size, he will wait, theres no way he's gonna rush this especially when he feels so snug inside of you.

He will wait for you to tell him if you want more of him inside, if you start saying you might not be able to do this, he's gonna be sliding out as soon as you say it

he will jerk off, or just walk out the room and get you a water bottle so he can just cuddle with you until you feel okay again.

thats if you couldn't do it

on the other hand

At halfway your already begging for all of him inside

Keegans definitely chuckling at your eagerness

But he thinks you look so beautiful and cute under him right now, squirming at his length

Once he's fully bottomed out, he's telling you he'll move when your ready

Once he does start moving, its euphoric for both of you

and if your embarrassed to moan, its going unnoticed by Keegan because he's already moaning and groaning

if you are moaning, he's still moaning either way.

He will place kisses all over your neck, collar bone, face, anywhere his lips can reach

Keegan's already placing you hands on his shoulders because he loves marking, (just like he leaves hickeys on you) he wants you scratching his back, he doesn't even care if you draw blood, if anything he's getting more turned on

he just wants to please you so badly

After care w him is so sweet

He's gonna clean you up very gently,

run you a bath or start up your shower, he'll shower with you if you want him to

He'll get you a bottle of water, snacks if you want them

and then he'll be changing the sheets too

so you guys can go to sleep

he'll rub your back

or he'll have you laid back on the bed as he starts to kiss your thighs again, and eventually fall asleep between your legs

He's losing it already, he's always been this way, the minute he finally starts getting his own feeling of pleasure while making another person also feel good, he starts to lose himself and get too rough, he doesn't want to be rough with you, he's trying to be as slow and gentle for you, and make you feel so good, but your so warm, and your walls are squeezing around him so gently but so tightly at the same time, he’s never felt this good with any other girl hes been with.

He doesn't want it to end and he doesn't know how to stop, he could stay here all night, all day, he could be inside you forever if it meant you'd feel this good. Keegan's beginning to get faster, he can barely hear your voice because he's been focusing on where you two connect, and how the noises of squelching are overtaking the room.

You knock him back into reality when your nails start to dig into his skin, “What’d you say sweetheart?” he asks so gently as he continues to go even faster, it's overwhelming, for both of you. You don't even reply, you didn't say anything, he just thinks he heard something because you've been moaning so loudly. “oh,” he says as he gives you another peck on the cheek.

“Maybe one kid won't hurt” He says, your eyes widen a bit, and he chuckles, “im kidding sweetheart” he tells you as you shake your head lightly, at this point he didn't know if he was kidding or not. “I wouldn't be opposed to having your kids” you tell him, which makes his brain go fuzzy.

You; having a swollen stomach and it being his kid, you'd be all his, with all his cum inside of you.

Shit you were making him have new kinks.

“m’I might have to cum in you baby” he moaned as he looked back down at you taking him, now he was getting even faster which you thought was impossible as he was already going so quick. And he was getting rougher, his hands and nails were digging into your hips, he was most definitely going to be leaving so many bruises on you. And he was kissing your neck again, purple bruises beginning to form.

“y’close sweetheart?” he asked knowingly, you couldn't even focus on anything, you were just seeing stars. His thrusts got sloppier as he was about to cum too, he couldn't have thought of anything better if he was being honest.

And then you two came undone together, he pulled out right before, of course it would've been so amazing to see you pregnant with his kid, but he’s sure you said that in the heat of the moment.

“C’mon lets get cleaned up” you said as laid on his side as he moved your hair out of your face, he smiled and let out an airy chuckle as you stared confused. “Who said we were done?”

#oneshot #keegan p russ #call of duty keegan #cod keegan #call of duty #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ #fluff #x reader stories #imagines

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sunkissedpages · 3 years ago

Text

instead of you [part forty-five]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, menstruation, smut (minors dni) additional warnings under the cut

word count: 3k

series masterlist + read the next chapter early on ko-fi!!

additional warnings: period sex, protected sex, fingering, oral (male receiving)

It had only been roughly twenty-four hours since you slept with Tom for the first time, but as he kissed down the expanse of your thigh you felt as though it had been an eternity.

You hadn’t realized Tom had his own hotel room where you were staying in Beijing- you had been under the impression that he was sharing the room with Harry that was right next door to yours. Maybe he had secretly booked his own for this exact reason as he had in Shanghai. You didn’t really care either way, as long as there wasn’t a chance of either of the twins barging in on you.

In fact, Sam and Harry were out together while you were here in Tom’s bed. Harry had seen an advert for some late night martial arts exhibition and wanted to go because he and Sam had taken karate when they were little. He’d said something about wanting to see how good they could’ve been if they never quit. You were quite fond of Harry’s sense of nostalgia. He reminded you of yourself a bit in that way.

Sam had protested at first, arguing that he needed to take care of you since you weren’t feeling well, but you insisted he go. You were just planning on taking some midol and knocking out anyway, there wasn’t anything he needed to do. It took a lot of convincing on both you and Harry’s end, but eventually he caved. You could tell he secretly wanted to go anyway, and you didn’t want him wasting a night of vacation stuck in a hotel room.

You honestly hadn’t planned on going back to Tom’s room again. You’d brushed the silly little comment he’d made at the Great Wall off as just that, a silly little comment. You didn’t think he was being serious, but of course Tom always had to prove you wrong.

In the elevator, after you both bid his parents goodnight, you went to push the button for your own floor, only to be stopped by Tom grabbing your wrist.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Going to my room?”

“Why?”

“To... sleep. What do you mean, ‘why’?”

He paused, looking a little embarrassed. “I just thought you’d come back with me to my room.”

“You were serious earlier?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I have been?”

“I don’t know, I thought it was just some offhand comment, not an invitation.”

“Well it’s an invitation now,” he said pointedly. “You said your cramps were bothering you and cumming is supposed to help with that.”

“When did you become an expert on female anatomy?”

“Do you know how hard it is not to make a joke in response to that statement?”

The elevator dinged on Tom’s floor and you sighed.

“Let’s go.”

That led you to Tom’s bed, where you had your legs spread for him with him on his knees in front of you. His hand crept up to the hem of your shorts, fingers toying with the fabric before you stopped him.

“Wait!”

You pushed on his head to get his attention, making him pop up with a frown. “What is it?”

“You know I’m like, actually on my period, right? It’s not just cramps... I started bleeding and everything already.”

Tom scoffed. “I know.”

“So you... still want to? Don’t feel like you have to-”

"Y/n, what year do you think it is? You know I’m a grown-ass man, right?”

You fidgeted nervously. “No, I know. I just... don’t want you to be grossed out or anything.”

“Period sex isn’t gross,” he assured you. “Do you think it’s gross?”

“N-no, I’m just a little embarrassed, I guess. Like, I get that you’re being nice and trying to be a ‘modern man’, but what if it turns out you don’t like it but don’t want to tell me because you want to save my feelings-”

Tom grabbed your thighs, forcing you to stop rambling and actually look at him. “I’ve had period sex before. I can assure you that I like it. Have you?”

“Yes, well, no- I wasn’t the one on my period so not in that way...”

“It’s okay to be nervous,” he promised. “And if you’d rather not, then we don’t have to, obviously. I can just... rub your back or something to help with the cramps instead.”

The fact that he was so set on making you feel better made your chest ache. It wasn’t like he was trying to talk you into sex, just get his dick wet, he genuinely wanted to help. You couldn’t think about the implications of that for too long or else you’d spiral. You could tell he felt awkward suggesting something so domestic like rubbing your back, as if he wasn’t sure if he was overstepping by proposing it.

“I want to,” you insisted.

“Are you worried about it being messy? Is that what it is?” You nodded. “Why don’t we do it in the shower, then?”

“Okay,” you agreed and let him pull you up so that you were sitting.

Then he kissed you, taking you by surprise. You were only frozen for a moment before you melted into the kiss too, letting him cradle your head as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You whimpered when he broke away.

“You’re sure you want to?” he asked.

“Yes,” you breathed out. “I’m so horny.”

“I’d take that as a compliment, but I know it’s hormones.”

“You can still take it as a compliment. You’re a very good kisser.”

“Is that all I’m good at?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“You’ll have to jog my memory.”

Tom helped you out of your shirt and shorts, leaving you in your underwear. He wasn’t in any rush to get you naked, allowing you to set a pace that you were comfortable with.

“Want to move this to the bathroom?” he asked.

“Yeah, let me just- uh, give me like three minutes to rinse off.”

“Okay,” he said, hiding a smile.

In the bathroom, you hurriedly pulled off your panties and unclipped your bra, setting both on the counter by the sink as you waited for the water to heat up. Once you deemed it warm enough you stepped into the tub and let the water run over your body, gently rinsing yourself with the bar of soap sitting on the ledge.

Tom knocked before he entered. You could hear him undressing from behind the shower curtain and suddenly started to feel self conscious. It wasn’t like Tom hadn’t seen you naked before, you had literally just slept with him the night before- so why were you so anxious now?

He pulled back the curtain the tiniest bit to peek at you, to see if you were ready for him. You took a tiny step back to give him room and he took that as a sign to join you in the shower. The tub wasn’t the biggest in the world so you were practically squished together as you stood under the showerhead. The forced proximity was flustering you, and the steamy water was doing nothing to help the heat in your cheeks.

If Tom noticed, he didn’t say anything as he leaned forward to kiss you. He pressed his lips to yours and pulled you close, wrapping both arms around your waist.

“You’re so pretty,” he murmured, moving one of his hands down to squeeze your ass. You could only moan in response. With an arm still around you he trailed kisses down your body until he reached your tits, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and humming around it.

You arched your back, pushing your chest into his face.

“S-sensitive,” you whined.

Tom chuckled against you, stimulating you even more and you gasped, bringing your hand to the back of his head to hold him in place.

“I know,” he managed to get out with your boob still in his mouth.

“Please, don’t tease.”

At your request, Tom released his hold on your ass and began giving attention to your clit instead. He used his thumb to rub slow circles on it and you could feel him smile when you shivered. He switched his mouth to your other breast as he continued to play with your clit, picking up the pace ever so subtly.

Your insides were buzzing with pleasure, but it wasn’t enough. He let you rock into his hand, chasing the feeling. He thought you were grinding against his hand, but in reality you were trying to get him to move his fingers lower and lower until they were inside of you. Eventually, he picked up on this and gave in, but not without teasing you a little more.

He slid two fingers into your cunt at once, but only up to the first knuckle before he was pulling them back out. He repeated the motion a couple of times, turning your knees to jelly. Thankfully, he was able to hold you upright with his free hand to keep you from falling to the shower floor.

You whimpered and pushed your hips forward to try and get him to go deeper, but he just tsked at you and shook his head.

“You could use your words, you know.”

“You know what I want,” you grumbled.

“Do I?”

“I think you have a pretty good idea.”

“Yeah? And what is that?” You groaned and Tom retracted his hand fully, holding it out of reach. “Want to hear you say it, baby.”

“Want your fingers...”

“Where do you want them?”

“Inside of me. Please, Tommy.”

“Fuck,” he hissed, dick twitching noticeably against your thigh.

Your answer had satisfied him, but you couldn’t stop talking now that you had started. You rambled even after he’d pushed his middle and ring fingers inside of you to the hilt.

“Want you to stretch me out so I can take your cock... please, please, need it.”

“Is your mouth always this filthy?” he asked, though you weren’t sure if he actually wanted an answer.

“Can’t help it,” you rasped out, fucking yourself on his hand now. “It just happens...”

“Happens when you feel good?” he finished the thought for you and you nodded. “Must be doing something right, then.”

“You’re doing everything right,” you moaned.

Feeling full was one thing, and it was good, but then Tom found your g-spot and you nearly blacked out from how amazing it felt. To make it even better for you, he spun you around so that your back was to him and hugged you close. In that position he could easily rub your clit at the same time he was fingering you. The only drawback was that you couldn’t see his face. It was a small price to pay in exchange for a mindblowing orgasm, one that you were positive he’d give you if he kept up at this rate. You leaned back against him, letting him support most of your weight.

“Close?” he asked, kissing your neck.

You nodded, creeping closer and closer to the edge until you remembered something very important and tapped Tom’s arm to stop him.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

You took a second to catch your breath, but nodded to assure him before you were able to explain. “I just remembered that when I’m on my period I can only cum once because it hurts too much to cum again.”

“Okay, so do you want me to edge you or something? Make it last longer?”

“No, no, it’s just that if I’m going to cum I want it to be on your cock.”

“Are you sure? It won’t be too much for you?”

“I’m sure,” you repeated and kissed him for good measure.

“Fuck, okay. Let me, um... let me grab a condom. I didn’t bring one in the bathroom with me.”

You watched as Tom stumbled out of the shower and back into the bedroom, dripping all over the floor. He was back in record time and had already rolled the condom on.

“You sure about this?” he asked.

“Positive. How do you want me?”

“Here, just lean forward a little bit and put your hands on the wall. I’ll do the rest.”

You positioned yourself as he’d instructed and relaxed as much as you could to make the stretch less uncomfortable. He wrapped an arm around you from the back and hoisted one of your thighs up so that he could push himself inside of you. You both sighed in relief when he bottomed out, and you let your forehead rest against the cool tile wall.

“If you feel like you’re gonna fall, just hold on to me, okay?”

“Okay,” you squeaked.

You could barely speak because he was so big and you had yet to adjust, but he just laughed fondly and began to thrust shallowly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your body practically went slack in Tom’s hold.

The extra lubrication helped you adjust quicker than last time, and the discomfort ebbed into pleasure soon after he’d started moving.

“So full,” you muttered.

“Just like you wanted, right?”

“Mhm.”

Being so sensitive from your period brought you back to the edge in no time at all, and you were struggling not to cum immediately and end it for both of you, even though every nerve in your body was telling you to give in to the white hot pleasure that was building in the pit of your stomach.

“You gonna cum?” Tom asked when he felt you clenching around him.

“No, not yet,” you choked out.

“What do you mean not yet? If you need to cum, cum.”

“Fuck you,” was all you could manage as your orgasm washed over you. Somehow his words had been what made you lose it.

Tom fucked you through it despite his confusion and only pulled out when you stopped trembling.

“What was that? Why were you cursing me out while I was making you cum?”

“I d-didn’t want to cum yet because you weren’t close. Didn’t want to leave you hanging.”

He scoffed. “This wasn’t about me, it was about helping you feel better.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to make you feel good too.”

“You did make me feel good! Couldn’t you tell I was enjoying it?”

“But you didn’t finish.”

“Sex isn’t always about the orgasms,” Tom mused, “it’s about pleasure, sure, but that doesn’t mean we both have to cum every time. It puts a lot of unnecessary pressure on us, you know?”

“I guess,” you mumbled.

He held your face in his hands and lifted your head so that you were forced to look at him. “Hey, I felt good, okay? I liked it and I had fun. Are your cramps any better?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “Feeling a lot better, actually.”

Tom beamed. “Good. That’s all I wanted to come out of this.”

“You’re still hard, though.”

He shrugged you off. “I’ll take care of it after we get you cleaned up.”

“Let me,” you offered and kneeled in front of him. The tub wasn’t the most comfortable surface to kneel on, but you were determined to make Tom feel as good as he had made you feel. “Take the condom off.”

“Wha- you don’t have to-”

“I know, I want to.”

Tom looked like he wanted to protest more, but the pout you were giving him won over and he sighed in defeat.

“Fine, as long as you’re sure.”

You nodded eagerly and licked your lips as he removed the condom and tossed it in the bin next to the toilet. You didn’t bother teasing him since he was already fully hard and being especially sweet. Instead, you immediately take him to the back of your throat, smiling internally when he curses and grabs your hair.

“Shit!”

You hummed around his cock and took his balls in one of your hands, massaging them lightly, before you began to bob your head up and down. Each time your nose hit his pelvis he got a little louder, a little more desperate. You loved the effect you have on him and he could tell.

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me.”

You let his cock fall from your lips with a lopsided smile and ran your tongue along the underside of it, paying extra attention to the tip. You took him back in your mouth and laved your tongue over his slit, collecting the precum and using it to further lubricate the shaft of his cock.

“God, you’re good at that,” Tom sighs, letting his head fall back.

You replaced your mouth with your hands. Tom whimpered quietly at the loss, but you just grinned.

“Want to fuck my mouth, baby?”

Tom’s eyes fluttered shut and his stomach muscles tensed at your words. You could barely open your mouth in time for him to cum all over your face, only some of it making it onto your tongue. You swallowed the little bit that did end up in your mouth. Tom gathered some of the remnants from your lips with his thumb and pushed the digit into your mouth, watching you suck it clean. The shower would take care of the rest.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. Just the thought of that made me blow,” Tom apologized sheepishly.

“It’s okay. Another time.”

He gave you a half-hearted smile. “You’re too good to me.”

“I could say the same about you.”

He cleared his throat and changed the subject, dodging the emotional intimacy that he had initiated. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then to bed.”

He helped you wash your hair and was insistent on being the one to lather your body in soap, mentioning something about how you wouldn’t be able to do it as well since you were still in your post-nut haze. You decided not to point out that he was also in post-nut haze because his hands felt too good on your boobs.

You dried off and got redressed in relative silence, simply enjoying the company of each other which almost never happened. You knew it was late, but when you checked your phone you realized just how late it was. It was almost midnight and you had missed a text from Sam. He’d only sent it a few minutes ago, but it still made your blood run cold.

Where are you?

no taglist this week sorry :/ lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

add yourself to my taglist here!!

#instead of you #iou #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x female reader #tom holland x bi!reader #tom holland smut #tom holland series #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic

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guess-that-ship · 1 year ago

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S12 Round 1*

pretective boy

[This description has been modified for formatting reasons.]

since a fated meeting long ago, B has had a strong contempt for A, and she was vowed to get revenge on him no matter what it takes. however, when they meet again, A completely refutes what B has accused him of. invigorating her further. every time they meet, B constantly tells him what a monster he is and how she is going to ruin everything he’s ever stood for. A responds kindly, telling her he looks forward to it.

to everyone else, it sounds like B is just harassing A. but both of them are very good at getting under each others skin and A subtly pushes B to get more mad at him, seemingly for his own amusement.

during their journey as rivals, A becomes a much humbler guy from B’s hatred of him, which only makes B worse as she believes he’s doubling up on the lies she perceives him to tell. B says she hates A and yet she’s the one who watches his every movement, everything she says is about him and everything she does is in some way to catch his attention.

they both have strong ego problems, A believes he is above everyone but trying to seem low-key about it and B sees herself as below everyone and is trying to make up for it with aggression. they are, unfortunately, the only person who truly understands the other. which sucks for them as they both bear a lot of frustration for each other. though some’s are more hidden than others, and the same goes for their affection for the other, however the other way around.

Dad's little successor

A single father and his daughter. It's no doubt that family is the main thing keeping the man afloat. He's straightforward and serious, but whenever he's around his kid, you can finally catch him smiling. On top of everything, they bond over the same… hobby? Kid has a huge interest in her dad's job, dreaming about being like him when she grows up. And it's very likely, since she puts a lot of effort into following her goal. One problem is that the job may be pretty dangerous at times, and her dad is one of those parents that worries about every single detail in their kid's life, especially when it comes to their safety. Still, he wouldn't be able to bear hurting her feelings, so her talent and enthusiasm thrive as dad lets her take a look at real work he has to deal with, with the exception that he always stays near to be in control of any potential danger. One big problem is that the father hates his job. It sucks life out of him, and it's the actual reason for his strict personality. Outside of work, he's a loving parent always thinking about spending quality time with his child, sometimes doing embarrassing things for her enjoyment. However, at work he often deals with people's worst side. Aside from that, it leaves little to no space in his schedule for rest. All of this means that watching over his daughter participating in his job is a rare chance to spend time together. Not allowing his personal experience break daughter's dreams, he still can't help but stay focused at work. Sometimes it may seem like he's too cold about her achievements, but in the end he will always and let her know how impressive her work is and that he's proud of her.

*Ship does not have to be romantic.

#s12 #tournament poll #s12 round 1

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jueunnn · 4 years ago

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choi line x reader, an absurd amount of fluff, no warnings, high school! AU

got a little carried away with beomgyu’s one as i’m sure you’ll be able to tell, but no harm done :p

yeonjun

captain of the dance team and well known throughout your whole school for being cute AND nice AND talented?? what a man

walks the hallways of your school like he owns it bcs let's be real he does

waited 927483 years for you to confess to him bcs he's actually kinda shy and can't bring himself to confess :((

but flirted HARD

very hard

“y/n!! those books look really heavy :( let me help you with that!”

“yeonjun i'm not carrying any b- what the hell why are you carrying me?!??”

but he eventually gathers up the courage to ask you out :)) and the school's power couple is born😫😫

holds your hand EVERYWHERE- he needs to make sure people know you're taken and happy

also back hugs are very common!! often times you're just vibing talking to your friends and out of nowhere a pair of very strong arms wrap around your waist and yeonjun snuggles his head into the crook of your neck

“babyyy, i missed you~”

insists you come to all his dance competitions so he can kiss you after every win like in the movies :)

his lifelong and one true love had always been music and dance, but apparently there’s just enough room in his heart to squeeze one more person in

soobin

drums for the school band,, quietest drummer you’ve ever met

but then you’re paired up with him for an english lit project and that impression immediately fades

your first meeting mainly consists of him making your stomach hurt with laughter and barely getting any work done- who knew soobin was a budding stand-up comedian?

as the both of you get closer he eventually moves to sit next to you in all of your shared classes, raising a slew of suspicions from the rest of your classmates

“hey, y/n, someone just texted me about how i should break up with you and date them instead- apparently we’re dating! why didn’t you tell me??”

“SOOBIN STOPWKSJ😭”

but then his usual mischievous grin fades and his expression grows serious. "do you want to?"

“do you want to date? be my girlfriend, y/n. i really like you.”

your jaw drops open and your mind grows fuzzy. soobin. renowned hot drummer and heartthrob. is asking you out? there is absolutely no way, your mind is definitely playing tricks on you, you're embarrassing yourself, but what if-

soobin immediately wraps his arms around your waist and spins you around when you say yes

definitely the most caring and sweet boyfriend ever™️

makes sure he walks you to and from every class, one arm carrying your bag and the other grasping your hand

kisses on the cheek and whispers of 'i love you, you sweet, sweet girl'

late night calls into absurd hours of the morning talking about nothing and everything, only to walk into school the next day with bags circling the underside of both of you and soobin’s eyes

this selfless, unconditional love you have the blessing of receiving is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever experienced

beomgyu

was lowkey a player before he met you

it isn’t that he wants or likes breaking so many hearts, he just genuinely falls in and out of love very fast🤐

doesn’t help that he’s extremely good looking so girls are practically falling over each other trying to get at him

starts out as usual when he accidentally crashes into you in the hallway, knocking you to the ground with a painful thud

“oh crap, are you oka-”

holy shit you’re pretty.

he can feel his heart pounding away at a hundred miles an hour when your eyes lock on him

insists on taking you out for coffee when he’s helping you pick up your books scattered on the floor as a means of apologising

you’re sceptical at first; after all, you’ve heard the rumours about choi beomgyu and his habit of dating girls for a week and then dropping them

but then again, who are you to deny free coffee?

he grins when you accept. “it’s a date.”

?:&;₩&:?! um okay why not you suppose

in the small neighbour cafe he realises you’re so much more than just a (very) pretty face

your laughs are genuine and carefree, your eyes dance with life and your sentences must be laced with cocaine by the way he’s hooked on every word

suddenly his whole aspect on love changes. the way he felt about all those other girls is nothing compared to how he’s feeling right now; right now his world is exploding with colour

it still takes a while for you to completely trust that he’s into you and only you, though

but by the time your two month anniversary comes and goes, you’re coming around

it’s the little things he does: the way he looks at you like you’re the most ethereal being on the planet, the gentle touch of his hands as he cradles your face when he kisses you, the notes he leaves in your locker daily

he’s your prince, you’re his princess, and he’s never letting you go

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kageyuji · 5 years ago

Text

accidentally grabbing his crush’s ass

⤷ kuroo, bokuto, iwaizumi, akaashi, kageyama ; gn!reader

tags: the title of these hcs lol, vague sexual innuendos(?), kuroo’s is kind of friends to ass-grabbing if you squint

notes: i did hcs like this a while back if these feel familiar, plagiarism isn’t sexy <3 although reblogs are highly appreciated

━━ KUROO

kenma was not a good wingman. at all.

but he tried his best </3

which was why he had invited both you and kuroo to hang out with him, the three of you were friends after all

kenma had planned on “accidentally” locking you two in a room together

what kenma hadn’t planned on was kuroo embarrassing himself before kenma even had the chance to put his plan in action

kuroo was crouched on the floor trying to fix kenma’s gaming system (god knows why it chose today to eat the game card)

he was completely unaware you were standing behind him and, somehow, in his peripheral he had assumed you were kenma’s desk chair

reaching behind himself to grab the chair and pull it over so he could sit in it, his eyes and one hand were still occupied

the other hand was now on your ass

it doesn’t register in his mind at first, he just knows that whatever he’s grabbing it isn’t the chair he thought

he literally turns his head slowly and when he looks at you hes like 😃

“ahah whoops”

“i’m so sorry, i was reaching for the chair”

“kuroo your hand is still on my ass”

he takes his hand away and then apologizes again but there is no hope for him, not when he is red to the tips of his ears

not to mention kenma, who is snickering a few feet away from the cataclysm that just unfolded infront of him

━━ BOKUTO

bokuto koutarou: king of not paying attention to what he is doing

especially not around you, he’s so focused on being perfect to impress you that he often ends up ignoring the minor things — the things that make you realize just how clumsy but sweet he actually is

you’d went to watch him at practice, who were you to turn him down when he said you were welcome to come?

plus, the entire team knew about his crush (it was hard not to with how much he talked about you) and they wanted to meet the person who always made their captain so starstuck and giddy

his eyes were focused on the volleyball court; he couldn’t look at you, he was putting on a serious act in hopes that you’d like him

that’s why when he reached behind himself for a volleyball he accidentally grabbed your ass

immediately realizes what he’s done, turns around and starts apologizing

he gets all pouty as well. he thinks you won’t like him now, even worse he thinks he’s offended you and now you hate him

“i didn’t mean- y/n, i swear i was grabbing a ball, i would never- :(((“

please tell him it’s ok he looks so sad

━━ IWAIZUMI

hajime iwaizumi: king of not paying attention to what he’s doing part 2

it’s not that he’s inherently oblivious to everything, he just. notices what needs to be noticed and passes over everything else

but he hadn’t heard you walk into the gym, hadn’t seen you sit on the bench in front of him when he knelt down beside his gym bag

oikawa knew you were there, so of course he smiled and loudly called “iwa-chan!”

iwaizumi, of course, went to stand up and grabbed at the bench to help himself

the bench he didn’t realize you were sitting on

so when he grabbed your waist, he also was pulling you to him. unintentionally, of course, but he was doing it nonetheless

which ended up with you falling (or rather, being dragged) off the bench and into iwa’s lap

both of you have to take a moment to process what just happened

eventually you both come to the realization that you’re sitting between his legs with his hands still somewhat on your hips and somewhat on your ass

he doesn’t want to push you off of him, but you’re currently still trying to process the situation and not moving

so he takes his hands from under your ass and slips away from behind you

“i uhm... i’m sorry, y/n. i didn’t see you, i thought i was grabbing the bench-”

“it’s alright iwa! accidents happen.”

he’ll never admit that he’s blushing. oikawa, makki, and mattsun laughing does not help the red tint in his cheeks though

━━ AKAASHI

bless his heart omg,,,, anyways SHDBSJDB

bokuto is a good wing man!! or at least he thinks he is 😀

but he had successfully talked you into coming to practice with him and akaashi

there wasn’t much convincing to do though, considering you had had a crush on akaashi for ages and would jump at any opportunity to be around him

but nevertheless, akaashi was setting for bokuto as always. the bin of volleyballs he always had was right beside him

...except it was on the opposite side he was used to, being that bokuto had insisted it be moved so you could stand near akaashi

he reached behind himself for a ball, but accidentally grabbing your ass instead

he realizes his mistake as soon as hes made it

even though he takes his hand back and is already stumbling out an apology, he has to turn and look at you because oh my god he did not just do that,,, oh no he did

eventually he manages to sting enough words together that it sounds something like an apology — he is sorry, he’s just far too embarrassed by what just happened to form a proper sentence

“it’s ok! don’t worry, things happen. i know you didn’t mean it” and suddenly akaashi knows that hes in deep

“uhm- yeah, sorry again. maybe you can just hand me the balls from now on ok?”

━━ KAGEYAMA

either kageyama was going to kill hinata or hinata was going to kill him, he didn’t mind which came first

hinata had invited both of you to a restaurant with him, and then ditched just as soon as you and kageyama had both arrived

of course, to you it was just bad timing. to kageyama however, he knew this was hinata’s attempt to get you to closer

kageyama tobio, who had no clue how to talk to his crush, was going to sit in a restaurant alone with you

much to his surprise though, he found himself enjoying your company. you were much kinder and easier to talk to than he had imagined in his mind, that much was clear

but of course he had to mess up. and of course it was in the most (though unintentional) perverted way

he reached to hold the door open for the people behind you whenever you were leaving but had miscalculated where you were walking

meaning he had his hand rested on your ass instead of the door

he jerks his hand back like a man scalded almost as soon as it happens

he’s stuttering and mumbling out an apology as well. it’s barely coherent, but you were laughing too hard anyways

please stop laughing he wants nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never have to face you again

“kags! it’s ok, seriously. it’s more funny than weird i promise. take me out again and we’ll call it even, alright?”

kageyama.exe has stopped working

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sukirichi · 4 years ago

Text

scarlet

“How long has it been? Five hundred years – a thousand?”

“Forever. It’s been forever.”

CONTENT/WARNINGS. vampire! megumi, reincarnation au, somnophilia, blood drinking, smut, murder, suicidal thoughts, angst, war, violence, all the dark themes you can expect from vampire!au such as biting, scratching, slight blood play, character death + UNEDITED. I’ll edit this tomorrow because I really want this to be of good quality but for now yeah, sorry for typos and awkward grammar

NOTE. thank you so much to vampire nonnie for requesting this, I absolutely LOVED writing this, I think this is my favorite ever work. It’s totally different and a lot more serious than what I usually write too, so thank you!

WC. 13k+

PLAYLIST: I Don’t Wanna Live Forever (Zayn, Taylor Swift) ; Fire on Fire (Sam Smith) ; Dusk Til Dawn (Zayn, Sia) ; My Nocturnal Serenade (Yohio)

“How long has it been? Five hundred years – a thousand?”

“Forever. It’s been forever.”

“Was it worth it? Was I worth the wait?”

“Of course you are. You always will be.”

BLUSH [001.]

The morning market bustled with people, the villagers bumping your shoulders left and right. You tried your best to squeeze through the crowd as you followed your mother. You’d recently come of age, and now you had to come with your mother to retrieve food and supplies while your father hunted and chopped wood for the upcoming winter.

Your mother pinched the apples of your cheeks whilst she smiled, reminding you that you could meet a nice young man at any moment and you had to look as presentable as ever.

The idea of living out the same fairytale your parents happily created for themselves had you gazing up at your mother in wonder.

You came from a happy family, with a doting mother and a supportive father who never stopped smiling through the hardships. While your mother was the fire that warmed the hearth of your humble home, your father was the sturdy wood that kept each and everyone steady and strong, and you? You were the light of their lives.

To be able to find a soulmate like that and have a family of your own, you wanted nothing more.

But your mind easily changed when people pushed past you, sending you scowls and profanities when you bunched your skirt up, your tattered boots hitting against the wet mud of the market. Your humble village wasn’t blessed with the warmest weather, but it was fine, since your family brought enough sunshine to your life that you never minded. Until now, that was.

Your boots were soiled and you were panting as you ran after your mother, her eyes crinkled as she chit-chatted with the vendors. Inside her basket were two fishes, five apples, and a few pinches of herbs that wouldn’t have really satisfied any of you.

In this side of the town, your village received the poorer suffrage of lack of food. Nevertheless, your mother’s smile and glee upon having her basket half-full reminded you that there would be better times. Not wanting to lose her again, you clutched your arm around her bicep, panting for air while she gazed back up at you worriedly.

“Child,” she cooed, cupping your face. “What ever is the matter? What could’ve had you gasping for air this way? Is there something you are running away from?”

“Mother, you are the one I am running after,” you informed her with a laugh, and your mother gasped in surprise.

“My, I am so sorry! I completely forgot that you were still new here! Oh, and your boots—”

“It is fine, mother,” you reassured, your hands coming up besides her cheek this time around to stop her from fretting over your shoes. It was beyond worn out, tattered and mouth almost opening. They had promised to get you a new one for your birthday, but a single pair cost more than a week’s worth of food that you didn’t have the heart to let them do that.

Both your parents were disheartened; they wanted to give you the best, of course, but it didn’t matter to you.

You understood the notion of wanting to look your absolute best in hopes of catching the eye of a future lover, but the idea didn’t sit entirely well with you if they had to base their attraction on mere physical appearance. Besides, it was called soulmate, was it not? There had to be a connection – a pull, of sorts – between two souls, and not from the perspective of the naked eye.

If you really were to meet your soulmate, they would see right through your skin and deeper than the depth into of your bones, their eyes looking directly onto where everything mattered most – the heart, the soul, the core.

Your mother’s gaze softened at the sight of you, tucking a stray hair behind your ear as she cooed at how beautiful you were.

Endlessly, she reminded you that you were the most precious blessing of her life in par with your father, and when your mother doted on you like that, how could you not flush with appreciation, eyes bashful and chest swelling with love?

You were a firm believer people were their most beautiful when they radiated kindness and are capable of unconditional love. After all, what could be more beautiful than a compassionate soul? Undoubtedly, you wanted to love someone like that, a person capable of kindness and strength even in the darkest situations; one who could see beyond the weary boots and dirt-stained old clothing you wore.

It seemed that someone had the same idea in mind for you felt a burning sensation at your face. Eyes flitting over your mother’s head, your breath hitched when you were met with soft, blue eyes that put your village’s stormy sky a shame.

Midnight blue swirling with warmth like hot milk on a rainy day, the feeling of having your lover’s arms wrapped around you and their gentle breaths whispering against your ear – that’s what you felt like when you saw him for the first time.

He stood outside his father’s shop frozen, eyes wide and locked with yours, the amount of scrapped metal suddenly weighing a ton despite his growing muscles.

Unsure of what to do but appreciative of the wondered boy, you shyly ducked your head down, peering up at him under your lashes with the smallest of smiles visible on your face. You raised your hand to wave at him when your mother tugged you away, chattering about getting you a cheesecake despite not having much to afford it, only because she felt something good would happen today.

And your mother was right – she rarely wasn’t, in the first place.

Nearly stumbling over your steps, you turned back to the young man, no longer hesitating before you beamed at him, fingers flickering into a small, delicate wave perfected by young women your age.

His reaction was immediate – a mad blush to his cheeks, and his body growing rigid at being caught staring at you.

You didn’t mind though. If anything, you felt giddy, and there was an unmistakeable bounce in your steps all the way back home.

BLUSH [002.]

His name was Fushiguro Megumi. He was the son of your village’s infamous blacksmith, who everyone dubbed as ‘Scarface Toji.’

All kinds of rumours about his father spread around the village, ranging from how he used to be a bloody merchant who worked for the King and lived a life without regards for others. As long as he was given enough coins, Scarface Toji would do anything.

Your parents had pinched your waist the moment you mentioned it to them. Your father shook his head disapprovingly over a cup of fresh milk, reminding you again and again that you shouldn’t believe rumors. Apparently, Scarface Toji was just a widowed man left with a baby son before he could even say goodbye to his wife, and he migrated from another town to here in order to start all over again in hopes of giving a better life for his son than the one he previously lived.

It was hard to believe it at first. Toji was a huge man who always carried multiple weapons, but after learning that he just made them and never wielded them, you eventually believed that the man was harmless.

Your respect for him only increased when his son came mere days later, his hands trembling in his chest as he requested to have a presence with you, flowers clutched in his chest.

You were at your room that one dewy morning, fluffing and fixing your bed when your mother squealed from the doorway, followed by your father’s light hearted voice telling her to calm down. Not moments later, your mother had clipped ribbons in your hair and flattened down your housedress, the grin on her face unexplainable and slightly terrifying.

The burning question at the back of your head was soon answered when you were met by the same young man you’d smiled at the other day. Fushiguro Megumi, he introduced, and until now, you could still remember the way your heart skipped a beat as he said, May I court you?

Only that time around, your father answered for you.

You were actually flummoxed he didn’t take out his hunting gun – like how he always did when other males requested a presence with you – and patted Megumi’s shoulder instead, asking to accompany him at the back to go chop some wood.

It was unspoken tradition that suitors had to impress the lady’s father first. You were more surprised when Megumi happily agreed, rolling his shoulders back to prepare for the task.

The smile he sent your way was boyish, shy even, but determination and anticipation shone through them, somehow leaving you wanting more than before. You and your mother, too curious as ever, wouldn’t stop giggling as you watched both men chop wood in the back, talking about the most mundane things ever like how Megumi’s father was faring, or how his studies was doing.

Megumi felt at ease enough with your father, the sleeves of his shirt pushed all the way to his elbows while he raised the axe. He was effortless in splitting the wood in two, not a break of sweat evident on his translucent skin.

“My, he’s a strong one!” your mother praised, her body practically thrown all over your body as she watched Megumi do more work while your father chatted his ear off. “Handsome too!”

“Mother!” you scolded, though the embarrassed giggles let her know you weren’t really complaining. She was right, Megumi was strong and definitely handsome; with a chiselled jaw, a pointed nose, striking eyes and arm littered with veins and cuts that he got from early ages of hard work.

Once your mother noticed that they were finishing up, she hastily yanked you back into the kitchen. She fretted more than you did about teaching you how to make the perfect meal; that the best way to reward them for their hard work was through a nice, warm meal.

You were too shy to ever vocalize that you wanted to impress Megumi with your cooking skills. Thankfully, your mother pried no further when you quietly asked her to leave the meal to yourself, already preparing out the ingredients while she picked the best flowers from the front yard to decorate the table with.

When Megumi arrived, his eyes roamed around the humble walls of your home almost as if looking for something.

You stood there at the corner, teeth sunken into your lip while your toes curled inside your slippers. Soon, his gaze landed on yours, his lips breaking out into one of the sweetest smiles – one that was far sweeter than the nectar you sipped from the flowers in your youth.

There was no proper explanation to why you stepped forward, a dip in your brow as you wiped at the beads of sweat that had now accumulated beneath his eyes.

His hair stood up in spikes pointed in different directions. You chuckled when it wouldn’t tame down at each stroke of your finger, and Megumi mimicked the melodious sound pouring from your lips. Too lost in the sensation of having his soft strands running through your hands, you forgot that Megumi was technically still a stranger, and you froze when his touch wrapped around your wrist.

You looked up at him then, an apology right there at the tip of your tongue for invading his privacy when he murmured, “Hi. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

If the sound of his laughter was harmonious before, then his voice could only be compared to honeydew and pastel splatters of the skies clashing in the horizon. Warm, gentle, soothing – you were right, he felt like the embrace of a kind soul in a stormy, cold day.

So you melted, unable to fight back your smile as you leaned closer into his touch.

“Hi.”

BLUSH [003.]

It was one of those rare days that the sun shone down brightly onto your village. The sun had stopped hiding behind the clouds, extending its fingertips down to graze at the greenery of your home, the light filtered through the thick branches of trees that you were currently hiding at.

You had to muffle your giggle with the back of your hand, eyes darting around to inspect if Megumi was anywhere close to you.

Half a year had passed ever since he courted you, winning not only your heart, but the approval and warm welcome of your parents into your home at the same time. It made sense that he had easily placated himself beside you at all times that Megumi eventually earned a seat at your dining table. Not only was he the loving, gentle soul you had always yearned for, but Megumi understood you in more ways than one.

In fact, it almost felt like you had lived your life with a missing piece of yourself.

Now that you had found him, the both of you showed no signs of wanting to pull away. Shy hand holding had transitioned into sneaky kisses, strong arms pulling you into a corner to kiss you goodbye before he retreated back home, your mind hotwiring as you reminisced his lips over your cheeks over and over again. Funnily enough, it became harder to sleep.

Why would you want to sleep and dream when every waking moment was magical enough?

Just as you tip-toed behind another tree to hide from your lover who hadn’t stopped attacking you with tickles, you stepped on a dry leaf, the crunching sound resonating onto the wide forest.

“Blast,” you muttered to yourself, eyes closed as you awaited the impact.

Just as you’d expected, Megumi came running behind you. Graceful in his movements as ever, you both laughed as Megumi flipped you both over before you could fall, your weight falling on top of his while his back hit the flowery fields.

“Found you, lover,” he teased, his hands curious as they ran up and down your sides. “It’s going to take a lot more than that if you want to run away from me, you know. No matter where you are, no matter how long it takes, I’ll do what it takes to find you and have you in my arms all over again.”

“Silly,” you teased as you leaned close to him, rubbing your noses together that pulled out a boyish laughter from him. “I would never run nor hide from you, my love. Where you are is where I wish to be?”

“Is that so?”

“No doubt it.”

“Then,” he interlaced his fingers with yours, gaze solemn as the sun shifted. The looming trees overhead provided you both privacy and shelter, nothing but small streaks of light caressing both your skins as Megumi’s lips padded over your knuckles, thumbs grazing at your wrists. Nothing could prepare you for what was to come next. You couldn’t tell what would happen, but he’d grown serious, voice low as he announced, “Marry me. I’ll take care and love you for the rest of my life. What else do we have to wait for?”

Your heart drummed in your chest loudly that you could no longer hear his next words.

Whether he said something or not, none of it mattered. For spending those six months with him already felt like a lifetime and you were greedy – you wanted to be with him more, to hold him tighter, and kiss him a little longer. He was right – there was no need to wait.

And you certainly didn’t wait as you yanked him by the collar, your lips meeting in a heated kiss. You could feel each other smile as your arms wrapped around his neck.

The kiss told him everything you couldn’t put into words. A hundred yes, a thousand I want to be with you for the rest of my life, and a million I love you’s. Megumi released all the love and passion he held for you when he pushed his lips against yours just as intensely, his scent blanketing over you like a veil of comfort.

There was no need to wait.

You and Megumi ran hand-in-hand all the way back to your home, the joyous laughter of the memories of youth and innocent summer romance the only music that era would ever know. Slamming the door open, both chests heaving with air and pinkies looped together, your smile fell off your face when an unfamiliar gentleman faced your way at the sudden intrusion.

He was tall, taller than Megumi and a lot broader. His long, dark hair was pulled back in a slick knot, ears pierced with black earrings that added to the darkness of his aura. His smile was nothing but eerie as his unwelcomed gaze travelled all the way down your form before his eyes darkened to the hand yours was connected with.

Sat behind him were your parents; even with their heads turned away from you, the grim looks painting their faces was evident.

“Mother? Father?” you stepped closer to Megumi, not missing the way the gentleman’s frown deepened. “May I ask what is the meaning of this? Had I heard we’d be having a visitor, I’d have stayed to welcome him,” turning to the gentleman, your back arched into a deep bow. “Forgive me, Sir, I was direly uninformed of your presence. I do not mean any rudeness. Please forgive me.”

“She is perfect, just as I’ve heard.”

Before any of you could react, the man had stood up. If he was tall before, his stance was terrifyingly imposing now as he looked down at both of you and Megumi. Your lover stiffened beside you before his arms encircled your waist, pressing you flush against him while your palms flattened on his chest.

His accelerated heartbeat matched yours, lips turning dry at the situation.

The man scoffed for a moment upon seeing your comfort for your lover, then he smirked, head lolled to the side as he announced the words that would soon end the ruin of your life.

“Ah, yes, young love. What a magical thing to experience,” In the blink of an eye, he pushed Megumi to the side, your body crashing into this man’s broad chest while he possessively placed a palm over your head. You couldn’t move, eyes wide and mouth dry as your mother began to cry, while your father simply kept his gaze to his feet. Megumi mirrored your stance, hands clenched into fists though he too, made no move.

There was no telling what would happen next.

“But that is all in the past now. Fortunately for you, my dear, you’ve wonderfully fulfilled your duty as a child to be your parents’ future. Now come with me, you’ve got some dolling up to do.”

BLUSH [004.]

They lied to you.

When your parents told you that poverty didn’t mean anything and a family was still a family no matter what happened, they didn’t mean it. It was all a lie.

Memories of being dragged outside your house and thrown into a carriage fancier and more expensive than anything your parents could ever afford even after a lifetime’s work remained burned in your head like a searing memory. You couldn’t remember how your parents reacted at your disposal; you couldn’t even look at them, the betrayal sitting hard and square right at your face.

But he remained at the back of your mind.

You had only been so young then, hopelessly in love, and you still are, you very much are. You closed your eyes as you fought back the tears that threatened to spill when you replayed the image of Megumi running after the carriage while you cried out for him, begging for him to save you. Your new husband had only snickered to himself then, well-aware your lover could never catch up.

Soon, Megumi grew tired, the dark patches of mud so familiar to you from your village transforming into wide greenery that led to bridges crossed to another town that would eventually lead you into the castle.

Suguro Geto, a man twice your age, barely had to lift a finger when he decided to buy you as his wife.

He was a higher ranking official under the King’s command himself. Wealth, power, luxury – he had them all, and he could and did provide everything you needed with just a simple request.

You supposed you should feel thankful. Days of sleeping with an empty stomach and a parched throat was nothing but a distant memory now, your skin soothed with only the finest silk and people bowing the moment you walked through the door. Gone was the poor girl from the countryside who wrestled with pigs once in her life when you’d accidentally dropped a slice of bread in the pig pen – only a refined, intelligent, and extremely obedient wife of Sir Geto was in place.

Or at least, that was how it was supposed to be.

Geto, despite his tyrannical personality and no hesitance when it came to abusing what he was capable of, was extremely disinterested in you. It was no secret – to both you and the servants – that he brought women around all the time. Even after years of marriage, not once had he laid a finger on you, opting to buy a bigger bed instead to keep the space between you both.

You were perfect for him; you were everything he wanted.

A woman who did everything he asked, a lady who smiled and chatted exuberantly when needed, both beauty, brain, and elegance combined into one, but most of all, you did not want him. And that was why Suguru treasured you above all, for you were the one who prevented him from being tied down to even worse women who were obsessive with him. In payment to your silence and submission, he provided you with all the comfort and luxury you could ever ask for.

Though you never did ask for anything.

Your only wish was to return home – but you dared not utter these desires for you knew it was as far away as a distant galaxy. Nothing but emptiness and dread accompanied you with each passing day, the image of Megumi soon faltering into your memories.

You’d lost count of the times you cried yourself to sleep while Geto laid beside you, his palms pressed into his ears while your sobs coated his velvet walls until the sun rose. If it were not for the cream spread all over your skin, people could easily see that you were a restless, broken wife instead of a happy one like you pretended to be; that your soul withered with each second.

There was no more hope, no light, no love present in the large, empty hallways of your manor.

Suguru was out for the night, probably lurking underground casinos fucking whoever whore was desperate enough to warm his cock for the night. Your servants had long retired to their quarters, and with nothing much else left to do, you left your room, the nightgown barely wrapped around your shoulders as you padded to the garden barefoot.

The grass was a lot softer here in his manor than it ever was back at home. Home – wherever that was. You couldn’t find your way back to it.

Everything here seemed tens of thousand times better than anything, and yet it felt so empty. Hollow. Dark. Meaningless. Even as you perched yourself upon the swing, feet kicking into the ground until you soared high enough that the moonlight caressed your skin, you found no beauty in everything.

Everything you once treasured faded into the night.

A rustling sound made you plant your heels flat on the ground, eyes narrowed at the source of the sound. The bushes behind you stilled, and you sat up from your seat, hands coming up to tug your gown back to your body as if it would protect you. “Who’s there?” you demanded, “You are not allowed to trespass the Geto Manor or else—”

Your words were swallowed right back when the figure appeared from behind the bushes. Even after years, you would still be able to recognize that face anywhere. The untamed hair, the flat lips, those eyes that had always reminded you of the skies you’ve grown tired staring at – your feet moved faster before your mind could comprehend it.

Megumi barely staggered as he caught you in his arms, your cries muffled by the collar of his shirt. Your heart tore into pieces and healed right back when Megumi buried his face into the crook of your neck, muttering I’m sorry over your skin over and over again.

“I’m sorry,” Megumi’s voice cracked, “I’m so sorry it took me so long to get here. I am sorry I couldn’t run after you. I am sorry I didn’t—”

You silenced him with a kiss, your hands trembling as you cupped his cheeks. Too long, it had been too long, and your hands were everywhere. On his hair, at the nape of his neck, grabbing at his shirt to pull him closer – you ravaged him with your lips and hands that a string of saliva threaded between your mouths when you gasped for air, only to kiss him harder the second time around.

Megumi’s hand came up to clutch at your bottoms, his body now firmer and bigger than the last time you remembered. He smelled like home, felt like heaven, tasted like bliss and the saltiness of your tears mixed in with his delectable self.

“I love you,” you declared, the sobs wracking through your chest before your head fell on his shoulder. Megumi doesn’t stop you when you fisted his shirt, his hands only patting your back as you hiccupped, the tears now drenching his shirt. “I love you, I love you, please, my love, run away with me, let’s live somewhere else, okay?” You cupped his cheeks, your thumbs swiping away at the tears that had also stained his pretty face.

Megumi nodded, not wasting another second when the both of you treaded through a very thin line by kissing you all over again, his lips flushed with yours.

There was no need for air. The only thing you needed at this moment was to have him beside you, and just as Megumi pulled away to tell you he’d do anything for you, blood spilled past his lips. You watched as the red liquid splattered from his lips and dripped down your chest, and that’s when you felt the piercing pain through your chest.

Megumi dropped you, your body colliding on the ground with a loud thud. Your chest bled from a shallow cut, though that was the last thing you paid attention to when Geto stood behind your lover, red eyes shining through the brilliant night and long fangs sinking down his chest.

Your screams were muffled with Geto’s palm as he showed up right in front of you in a flash, his cold touch sending shivers down your spine.

He forced you to watch as your lover fell in front of you, a sword poking through his chest. You struggled against your husband’s hold, but he was far stronger and bigger than you that you fell limp into his chest. Geto barely blinked an eye as your nails sank down to his skin hard enough to draw blood from his pale skin.

“Watch, darling,” he purred into your ear, “You wanted to be with your lover forever, right? Then let me grant you wish – I’ll give you the forever you always wanted.”

“Why are you doing this?!” you bit back through the palm covering your mouth, vision blurred as tears coated your face. “I did everything for you! I did everything you asked me too – you didn’t have to kill him, he was the only one that mattered to me, how dare you?!”

“No reason, darling,” Geto pushed you off his lap before tugging Megumi’s shirt, revealing his lifeless and bloodied face staring right at you. “I was simply…drunk, you could say. I was not pleased to find my wife locking lips with another man.”

“I was never yours,” you spat out, hands dug deep to the earth underneath you.

“No, you’re not. Your heart was always owned by another, was it not?” Geto tipped his head as he watched Megumi’s lifeless form crumble back to life, a guttural groan echoing through his throat. Your eyes widened when his head snapped upwards, striking blood red eyes that resembled Geto’s glowing under the moonlight. You crawled backwards until your back hit the three, unable to recognize the man in front of you. Geto stands to the side, his long and sharp tongue darting out to lick at his lips. “Young ones are always the most dangerous. I cannot wait to see how this one goes.”

“Megumi!”

“Thirsty, are you not?” Geto taunted. At the sound of his voice, Megumi leapt to him with dark claws extended. A scream ripped from your lips, one that was immediately silenced when Geto effortlessly wrapped a hand around Megumi’s neck, choking him until his limbs flailed helpessly in the air.

“Ah, ah, ah, I won’t suggest drinking my blood. You would find it repulsive,” A sickening snap resonated in your ears as Geto broke Megumi’s arm to turn him your way, fangs bared and animalistic growls making your lover seem unrecognizable. You sat there, frozen and panting. Why couldn’t you move? “Your human lover is right there, though. Go on, take a look,” he whispered in the younger man’s ear, his red eyes glinting with amusement. “See her luscious skin? Hear the rapid heartbeat pulsing at the juncture of her neck, begging you to ravish her? That is what you’ve always wanted, right? To claim your woman as yours?”

Megumi’s fierce growl was enough to make you bury yourself harder in the tree trunk, the tears streaming freely down your face before Geto released his hold on him. “If it makes you feel better, I never touched her. She is all yours for the taking. Now, drink.”

At his command, something snapped in Megumi.

All hell broke loose. The last thing you saw was a beam of crimson eyes paired with a red flush to his face maniacal with thirst. His name came out in a broken cry, Megumi’s claws ripping away at your clothes until his fangs sank down into your skin.

Your legs kicked out beneath you as you gasped for air. From behind Megumi, Geto crossed his arms to himself, soon disappearing into the night.

Megumi kept gasping and growling as he drank from you harder. The grip on his hair eventually faltered until your hand fell on the ground, his eager tongue lapping at what else dripped from the holes he’d punctured at your neck. He doesn’t let up once, hands coming up to crush your windpipe until your bones cracked at one clench of his muscles, merely a reminder of what he could now be capable of.

Was this death? you wondered before black completely clouded your vision, you were not ready for it.

ROSE [005.]

Megumi hunched over his seat, his hands making quick work of jotting down tiny details of the modern life in his notebook. It had been two hundred years since he last saw you, and the world had drastically changed ever since.

It wasn’t easy getting over your death – especially not when he snapped back into consciousness, the painful reminder that you had died from his hands haunting him in his sleep.

Not that he ever had much sleep to begin with since he was always tired and restless, his skin hollow and pale, with dark circles finding home under his metallic blue eyes that had lost their previous warmth. After years of trying to learn how to control himself through isolation in the mountains, Megumi eventually wandered back down to the city, surprised that time had flew by so fast and your old village was now unrecognizable.

People wore lavish clothing and had parasols made out of lace, making his throat dry up at the thought that lace back then cost way too much than he could ever afford.

Too much had changed indeed. So much time had passed that Megumi’s previous anger and hatred to himself had now been filled with nothing but a lingering, empty feeling that gnawed at him. No matter how much he tried to blend in with society and keep his true form a secret, nothing ever really took away the fact that he was a monster that could hurt anyone if he even lost the slightest best of control.

He didn’t even know the name of the man – no, the creature – who made him this way.

Megumi sighed as he snapped his notebook shut, conversing freely with this human friend he made. They were ‘of the same age’ as Megumi introduced. Itadori Yuuji wasn’t top of the food chain, per se, which is exactly just what Megumi wanted since the last thing he wanted was unnecessary attention. Right now, he accompanied his friend – the only person he could care about – as he got his suit fitted. Yuuji stared at his reflection endlessly, tapping at his bottoms with a thoughtful hum.

Just then, something familiar wafted into Megumi’s senses. At first, he thought it was the scent of the soap he used, but this was too…different – he was sure he’d caught whiff of it before, but he was beyond a hundred years old that it was impossible to pinpoint what it was.

His eyes fluttered outside the shop as he looked for the source of the smell. It was soft, leaving behind a lingering flutter of his chest, and before Megumi could realize it, he’d already shot up from his seat, captivated by the sound of laughter and giggles across the street. Then, he saw you. You were right there, head thrown back in laughter as you chatted with your friends, lips painted a flushed red that only broadened at something your friend had said.

“Fushiguro – where are you going?”

“My apologies, friend. I’m afraid there is somewhere I have to be,” Quickly, he stashed his notebook inside the front of his coat jacket, pushing past against the crowd and crossing the street. The closer he got, the more he recognized your laughter, your features sharpening into a crystal resemblance of the person he’d lost years ago.

He couldn’t believe it, could barely stop himself when you walked away, his hand naturally falling to grasp at your wrist.

“Excuse me, Miss. I—” Megumi was stunned when you turned to him, your smile polite and bright as ever, not the least bothered that he pulled you out of nowhere.

“Yes? Is there something I can help you with?”

“I…I just thought I’ve seen you somewhere before. I’m sorry if that came out weird,” not wanting to be rude (your friends were glaring suspiciously at him), Megumi retracted his hands by his sides, gaze planted to his feet as it was considered impolite to hold such eye contact with the opposite sex – especially to a stranger. He could feel himself grow warmer despite his lack of body heat inside his heat, your mere presence prompting his undead hear to beat once more. It made Megumi step backwards, throat falling dry. “Uhm, I suppose I should turn back—”

“Would it be odd if I said I felt the same way?”

His head whipped up to yours so fast that it looked comical, and he was blessed by your amused smile. “What?”

“You feel familiar, and I wish to understand why,” At this point, the sound of his heartbeat that had long been forgotten drummed loudly in his ears, so much so that he could barely hear your words anymore. He had to stare at the way your lips moved, hypnotized at the same time as he tried to fathom what you said. “Would you like to have lunch this Friday? Perhaps we could…familiarize ourselves with one another more.”

It had been a long and painful two hundred years – but you were here – that Megumi would be insane to say no.

ROSE [006.]

Megumi made sure to be silent as he slammed the door shut, not wanting to wake his lovely wife who’d long retired to bed after a long day of work. The eminent darkness in your home told stories of how late it was this time of the night, nothing but silence and the faint cricketing of insects heard in the dead night.

Upon seeing you on the bed, soft breaths spilling from those lips he could never get enough of ravishing, his shirt doing a terrible job at keeping you modest, Megumi’s jaw clenched.

Tugging his tie off and discarding his jacket to the ground, Megumi made quick work of spreading your legs open, his breath caught in his throat because his naught wife decided not to wear anything. His fangs bared on instinct, the tent in his pants growing.

You were always tempting him – and despite being a fearsome creature, Megumi was always weak to resist your teasing.

Glancing at your peaceful face, Megumi bunched your shirt up above your breasts, your nipples hardening at his cold touch. Megumi sighed, not wasting another minute before his tongue dove into your awaiting lips that had already bloomed open, always so ready to welcome your husband’s eager tongue even in your sleep. He groaned at your arousal mixing with the tangy taste of tonight’s dinner.

Soft sighs could be heard above from you when Megumi licked a flat line from your hole all the way up to your clit, his hands kneading at the soft flesh of your thighs before he sucked generously at the pearl hidden by your hood.

You quivered in response as Megumi’s tongue finally entered your drenched core, his tongue teasing and expertly licking at the bumpy ridges of your walls. It gave him great pleasure to see his not-so-innocent wife trembling upon his hold, that even in your sleep, you were so responsive to him. Your reactions stirred him to plunge his tongue deeper into your hole that would normally be so filled to the brim with his cock, not stopping until you fisted at the sheets, cumming on his tongue.

Megumi drank at your juices like it was a thirsty man, making him chuckle a bit because he was always thirsty – both for you and the life that throbbed in your veins.

Kissing the inside of your thighs, your head fell to the side, unaware that the sheets were now stained with your arousal. Megumi hoisted himself up to press a kiss on your lips, his other hand gripping at his hardness before he slid himself in, low groans emitting from his lips when your warmth finally engulfed him.

He was at home.

He had both arms planted beside your head as he kept panting at your ear, his thrusts slow and passionate in order not to rouse you from your sleep. He knows how tired you are and he wanted his pretty wife to get all the rest she needed, but it was getting harder with each passing moment when you clenched around him, pupils blown wide the moment his nails dug into your hips.

“I am sorry to wake you, my wife,” Megumi apologized while littering kisses all over your skin, your moans now uncontrolled and breathy now that you were completely aware to receive the pleasure he was eagerly giving you. “I couldn’t help it – not when you are so heavenly laid out for me like this.”

“Mmh, take me as you wish, my love,” you groaned around him, your arms finding home around his neck as you pulled him closer. One of your legs was placed around his waist, the other knee pinned flat on the ground so Megumi could fuck into you deeper, turning you into nothing but a whining mess. “You know you can always have me whenever and however you want. If it’s you, I would never mind,” Megumi pulled his head away from your neck to gaze into your eyes instead, glowing red orbs meeting yours while his hips snapped harder. You would’ve smiled had it not been for his dark circles turning at least two shades darker, his skin gray and a little flake.

“You are pale. Have you not been feeding properly again?” Megumi intentionally ignored you, and you knew he was trying to distract you by thrusting harder into you, having never liked you to remind him of what he was. It worked for a moment, nails scratching down his back, but you cupped his cheeks you’re your warm palms, holding him tense enough that he was forced to look at you. “Megumi. Megumi, look at me – have you not been drinking well?”

“You know I refuse to.”

“You need it. At this pace you’re going at, you’re going to – ah – you might get sick and weaken, my love.”

Megumi shook his head indignantly, “I would never sink my fangs down a breathing human’s body. I refuse to give in to the demon they have made out of me.”

Your eyes softened at how those blood red eyes faltered, his fears showing through the moment his thrusts grew slower, his touch gentle against your hip. It almost felt like he was making love to you, and you gasped when his cock hit your most sensitive spot, your walls clenching and gripping around him like a vice. “You are no monster,” you told him, “Your heart is warmer and kinder than any other beating hearts I’ve come across with. You are a good person, Megumi, giving into to your hunger does not make you a demon,” when hesitance still crossed his face, you pulled him in to see the sincerity in your gaze, passionate enough to make him stutter his hips inside you. “It would be a lie if you call yourself such an atrocity when you are nothing but tender and loving when it comes to someone as fragile as I am compared to your grace.”

“I do not want to hurt you.”

“You could never, my love,” you assured him, baring your neck to him. Megumi’s eyes zeroed in on the rapid pulse visible at your tender skin, the sight enough to make his cock twitch. “Now, drink.” At your words, Megumi froze. He’d heard that same phrase before – right before he killed you by drinking you dry, and Megumi scrambled away from your hold with fear written all over his face.

Not again, not again, no, he wouldn’t hurt you – Megumi never got the chance to leave when you shushed him with a kiss, ankle buried in his back to keep him inside you. “Please, my love, let me make you feel good. I no longer wish to see you this way. Drink my blood – do it for me.”

That was enough to push him over the edge. Sending one last questioning look your way, to which you responded with a nod, eyes hazy with desire, Megumi punctured your skin.

You cried out from the pain that added to the pleasure, and with Megumi rutting his hips fast and hard into your abused cunt that was still sensitive from your previous orgasm, your husband brought you over the edge. He came not long afterwards, spilling his seed deep inside you – one you were both not worried about since he could never impregnate you.

Megumi doesn’t stop from lapping at your wound, pulling his cock out before his lips swooped down to your breasts, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

You were both breathing hard, Megumi trying to calm down the tremors of your body from the orgasm while sucking your tits, his hand caressing the other one to not leave it unattended. Hands coming up to card through his fingers, you kissed the shell of his ear, your sweat bodies desperately clinging around one another. “Megumi,” you mumbled sleepily, “Turn me.”

Megumi stilled above you. In a split second, your husband was off you, standing at the edge of the bed with all his muscles rigid and tense, eyes blaringly red as he hissed, “What did you say?”

“Have you not thought about it?” you winced as you sat up, the discomfort apparent upon feeling both your cum drip down your ass to your cheeks. “How you will remain the same after all these years, and I will die and wither like a wilted flower? I do not wish to part from you, Megumi. That was the vow we took in our wedding – that you’d be with me my whole life.”

“Until death do us part,” he reminded you, pointing at the wedding band that adorned both your fingers. “That was the vow.”

“So you won’t turn me?” you scoffed in disbelief.

“No. You only say this because you are blinded with love, but you will soon come to regret it once you become like me. A creature of the night, fearful of the light, taking life from others to preserve yours and unable to provide warmth to my beloved – why would you ever want to be like me?”

“Because it’s the only way I can be with you.”

“Are we not enough the way we are now?” Megumi ran his hands through his hair as he sat back down, his extended claws hastily pointing at the both of you. Even through the dim lights, you could see how his face had darkened. “I am happy, you are happy. We both love each other – what else could you want?”

You gritted your teeth at his words, picking up the pillow beside you before throwing it at him. “Stop being selfish!” you exclaimed, your husband’s eyes flushing a deep shade of rose when he glared at you. “Think about me! A few years from now, my body and face will sag to the point I am unrecognizable. I will no longer be beautiful in your eyes and soon I’ll even lose the strength to cross from our chambers to the washroom. Soon, I’ll be nothing but a drained human because we are weak, and what do you do? You’re just going to watch it all. You will let me get sick and die just because you refuse to live longer with me?” you repeated his words with a scoff, tears stinging your eyes when your voice dropped a tone lower, your arms wrapped around your chest as you rocked side to side. “Do you even love me?”

“Do not dare assume I do not. I waited for you for two hundred years.”

“That is exactly my point, you no longer need to wait for me if you’d just turn me!” you bit back, full on crying at this point with little to no regard that you would wake the whole neighborhood with your discord. “I want to be with you, Megumi, forever. I’ve lost you once and you lost me too, why would you want to put us both through that pain again?”

“Because the pain of losing you will never amount to the misery you would feel once you see that this is not a glorified life,” his gaze softened, his claws retracting until his hands reverted back into its normal ones. From where you sat, you could see your husband falter little by little, his tone turning tender. “I would rather see you die and lose you again than hate yourself because of what I’ve done, even if it was to fulfill your wishes.”

Silence coated the room. Only your heartbeat and his raspy breaths were the only things audible, and when you spoke, the sound of your heart shattering followed. “You would rather see me die? You would rather watch me slip away from your grasp?”

“Yes.”

The fact that he held no hesitance in them just told you everything you needed to know. You turned away from your husband, laughing bitterly. “That makes everything clear then,” you stood up and walked past him, not bothering to cover yourself up as you trudged to the washroom. “I guess I will just continue to please you until my human days are over. Not that it would bother you though, am I correct? You could always satisfy yourself with another body while I slumber for a few more years.”

“You will hate yourself if I turn you.”

“You not need worry about that, husband,” you told him, coming out of the room with a fresh towel and cleaned legs. Megumi still hadn’t moved a muscle from where he stood, his eyes now a longing shade of blue when you burrowed under the covers, back turned away from him. “I already hate you a lot more than I could ever feel for myself.”

ROSE [007.]

Your human body was weak. You get sick and Megumi refuses to heal you, and you died in despair that he didn’t even care about you. A plague had hit your city, and you fell victim to it. After months of being isolated in your quarters until you could no longer taste food or have enough energy to even drink a sip of water, you knew you had to accept your fate.

Megumi stood beside your bed, your hand almost as cold as his when he held it tenderly, regret pooling in his eyes at his refusal to heal you. You were still so young, so fragile – yet he could never bring himself to do it, even if it was your dying wish.

“Will you really not let me live a few more years with you, my love?”

“I am sorry,” he cried out, finally breaking down despite his insistence to stay strong and stoic for the both of you. If you had enough strength, you would’ve cried too; it was the first time you’ve seen Megumi lose himself this way, and he kept sobbing into the crooks of your palm, breaths stuttered and words broken. “I truly am. I cannot do it. Forgive me – forgive me.”

“Don’t cry,” you soothed weakly, thumbs brushing his tears away. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to heal, my love. I’m sorry I can’t stay any longer.”

“I’m going to miss you,” he shook his head desperately, lips pressed against the weak heartbeat from your wrists as if that would magically heal you back to life. His words broke you a lot further because you both knew that maybe this is where you would end, and you couldn’t even spend that much time with him. A few months of marriage in comparison to the years he waited for you was simply unfair. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I will miss you too,” you rasped out, “I hope in the next life we meet, I’ll get to stay with you a little longer,” Your breath wracked as your chest tightened, the virus making its way all voer your body and depleting you of everything you once had.

Though young still, your cheeks had hollowed, the light leaving your eyes as your lips flattened into a thin line.

You were inherently frail next to Megumi’s unwavering health and strength, and your smile was weak – forlorn – as you gazed up at him for the last time, trying to print his features deep into your soul.

“It feels like the world is always against us, don’t you think? If so, then maybe you and I are not meant to be as we thought.”

Megumi kept kissing your hands, kissing your tears away until you said your final goodbyes, your hand falling from his onto his lap. You couldn’t stay long enough to hear him pour his love out for you the same way he stood under the pouring rain, watching as the rose placed upon your tomb he likened you with wilt and wither.

Why was it that he could never be good to you?

First, he had caused your death, and now, he couldn’t even give you a proper one. You lived an unfulfilled life. There were still so many things you wanted to do, a multitude of places you wanted to go, and you wanted nothing more than to spend a little longer with him. Even as he walked away from your grave with his dying for what seemed like the hundredth time, Megumi still couldn’t find an answer when he asked himself, should he have fulfilled your wish?

CRIMSON [008.]

Along with arising modern human civilization and technological advancements, war was bound to come. People clashed with one another until humanity was abandoned, moral beliefs thrown to the side in replacement of exerting dominance over one another.

In a way, it soothed Megumi to know maybe he wasn’t the only one who’d completely lost touch to everything he once cared about; a little comforting that people had turned to monsters as well. But this thought vanished into thin air the moment gun powder and explosions covered the once blue sky, smoke choking the fresh air people once breathed and the battlefield painted red.

Megumi watched his comrades die one by one. He’d grown tired of hearing their last wishes and he cursed at his nature, because why couldn’t he just die?

He’d taken a hundred bullets and a thousand more beatings, yet he remained his stance, pushing through the enemy’s front line like a beast. At least here, he could unleash the monster he’d tried so hard to conceal. Even if he wasn’t entirely sure what exactly he was fighting for, Megumi had enough anger to overwhelm the opponent with his presence alone.

Blood splattered to his mouth, fuelling him to keep fighting and running, slashing at everyone’s throats with a flick of his sword, the growl leaving his chest entirely animalistic.

He should’ve focused more on his task instead of being blinded by rage.

Too lost in wanting to avenge his comrades, Megumi’s sharp senses failed to hear the oncoming grenade thrown his way. His eyes widened a fraction before he was thrown away, his ribs breaking and his skin splitting apart from the impact. Megumi choked out blood; he should’ve fed properly before he got drafted in the military, but he refused, denied his needs and drank animal blood to tame himself instead.

His self-righteous need to rebuff his true nature backfired, biting him on the ass this time around. He was half unconscious when he was lifted by the rest of his commanders who’d thrown him in the medical tents before taking off to war once more.

Megumi’s vision blurred. Everyone around him paced back and forth to tend to the other soldiers lucky enough to have been brought here for a second chance at life, their voices muffled and turning into nonsense. Megumi chuckled bitterly, which he shouldn’t have done because it made him cough up a lot more blood, but could he help it? He didn’t want a second chance at life. He had never seen you again, not even a whiff of your scent, and his heart and soul had reached a point beyond decomposition that he wished to have died on the battlefield instead.

His attention was diverted when warm hands that smelled like rubbing alchohol patted his face, a harsh beam of light shone down his eyes. He winced at the light before the object was taken away, worried eyes peering down at him instead.

Megumi’s gasp was frail, too weak to manage a proper greeting because the sounds of gunshots, explosions, and final screams surrounded both of you and it was the worst setting to find you in but he was relieved – beyond relieved to see that you were there, fixing him up and muttering something he couldn’t understand. You were adorned in the healer’s uniform, your touch nothing but gentle despite the sting of ointments on his wound.

He couldn’t believe it.

“Y-you,” he managed through splatters of coughed out blood, “I found you again.”

“Soldier, focus on me! You cannot die us on now, we are relying on you to save the world, do you understand?” you snapped at him, moving back and forth at such speed that put his supernatural abilities to shame. “Do not forget your duty. Think of your family, your friends, everyone you cared about waiting for you back at home while you fight honorably in this war,” you declared, the cold scissors cutting through his uniform somewhat distracting him from the sound of your voice. “You must think of them.”

“I don’t have anyone else,” Slowly, his consciousness slipped away from his fingers no matter how hard he tried, and he sighed when your furrowed brows became a lot blurrier and unfocussed. At least you were here, he reminded himself, a small smile on his face as he did so. “Everyone I’ve ever cared about is in here in this room with me right now.”

“Live, soldier,” you commanded, teeth snapping the thread as you hastily sewed him back up. He didn’t need it, but you didn’t know that, and he actually quite liked you fretting over him like this. “Live for the future, fight to live – live for me.”

Megumi had fallen unconscious, but your words planted itself deep at the back of his head. Your words were enough to revive him back to life hours later, and he scrambled at the edge of his seat, calling for your name and searching for you with frantic eyes. Living for you was something he could fulfill, so where were you?

Before he could glance at you one more time, you had already disappeared, and Megumi was shoved back into the battlefield.

SCARLET [009.]

The forest was dark and eerie as you ran through it, the pads of your feet chafed from tireless running and hands still sore from the burn. Countless women were forcefully ripped away from homes in your village at the assumptions anyone who didn’t dare bow down to the aristocrats were devil worshippers, and you were only lucky enough to get away, though barely.

At the back of your mind, you were still screaming as you fought against the binds while they burned you, the ends of your dress tattered and burnt.

The woman that saved you, you didn’t know your name, much less get the opportunity to thank you before she’d freed you, pushing you in the direction of the mountain you were taught to fear. Although that fear vanished as you kept pushing tree by tree, completely unaware that the higher you trudged onto the fearsome land, the atmosphere grew suffocating and too dark.

It didn’t matter now, this was your only place and chance of escaping.

Too dazed in your need to survive, you failed to notice the strong stench of blood, the rotting flesh and bones scattered everywhere upon the steps that led up the abandoned castle. It had been forever since the war that led to the fall of mankind’s chance of modernization, resulting in the world falling back into the ruins that you all had suffered before.

You were panting for air just as you’d reached a few feet before the eerie, looming gate. You had to clutch on a nearby tree to catch your breath, completely aware that you were insane for going to this place as a last resort for a safe haven even if you knew that people had told countless stories to children that a blood drinking monster resided within; whether it was a story told to prevent children from roaming around at night or it was actually true, you would just have to find out soon.

But you’d grown weak, body battered and bruised, stomach deprived of its nutrients and lips cracked from dehydration.

Your legs gave out before you until your body crashed onto the ground, no longer hearing the slight creaking of the gate.

SCARLET [010.]

There was something…wet and warm grazing over your skin, the sensation tickling enough that it stirred you from your slumber. With a groan, you cracked an eye open, all the muscles in your body chilled when the man sat before you kept wiping at your wounds tenderly, his cold blue eyes sending shivers down your spine once he’d noticed you’ve woken up.

“You are free to stay here until you heal,” he announced, his voice deep yet gentle – nothing like the stories made him out to be. You opened your mouth to thank him – for the clothes that adorned you, the glass of water beside your bed, and for nursing you despite your apparent confusion – but the legendary vampire King himself had stood up, a bowl of water and a bloody towel clutched in his hand before he retreated to the door.

Then, he paused at the doorframe, head barely tilted your way as he warned, “Do not leave the grounds unless you wish to die. I cannot guarantee I can save you one more time.”

SCARLET [011.]

Megumi was a mysterious person. He never stayed around much, and the castle was far too big for you to ever run into him. No matter how hard you tried to meet him out of want to thank him for his unnecessary kindness, you couldn’t find him.

He mostly left you to your devices. Every morning, you’d find fresh meat, a glass of water – sometimes warm milk – and a pair of his clothes that you’d have to make do with.

You’ve lost count of time of how long you’d stayed under the castle, still terribly confused as to why he hadn’t killed you yet, much less help you. One thing was for sure, however: the infamous King who painted the skies red for years out of bloodlust was not the monster people made you believe he was. After all, what predator cared for his prey this way?

You were beyond determined to show him your gratitude, not having anyone care for you this much your whole life. Growing up in the slums and taken as a child into pleasure houses, this type of privacy and freedom was more than welcomed – a freedom you wouldn’t have ever had had it not been for him. So you stood at the edge of your window every night, a slight bounce in your steps as you waited for him to show up. You rarely ever saw him, but there was no harm in trying, right?

The clouds shifted away, giving way to the moonlight that illuminated the tall figure speeding through the gates. He’d come from hunting his dinner.

With an excited squeal, you rushed past your room with a small towel, running all the way to the lobby to greet him. Your speed put his to shame when you sprinted his way, your excited form rendering the vampire shock still under the dusty chandeliers for a moment, his muscles tensing harder when you smiled up at him.

Your gaze fell down on the blood stains at the edges of his lips. His eyebrows were pinched together, about to ask what you needed when you stood at the tips of your toes, wiping away the blood with a towel.

As he spoke, his voice was gruff and hoarse, almost as if he hadn’t made a squeak of noise for centuries. “Human,” he began, a slight irritation underlying his words, though he made no move to push you away. “Are you not afraid of me?”

“Why would I be?” you queried with a lilting tone, “You saved me, after all. The vicious monster they painted you out to be is far kinder than anyone has ever treated me.”

His eyes darkened at your implications, preventing you from completely wiping the blood away from his face as he gripped your wrists. His claws were long and dark, undoubtedly able to kill you should he wished, but you didn’t fear him, not when he still held you like you were a fragile being. “So just because a devil saved your life, suddenly they are an angel in your eyes?”

“I do not care what you are,” you told him honestly, staring him straight in his eyes swimming with emotions you couldn’t fathom. “I care not for what you’ve done or who you are supposed to be. All I know is that you are good to me – and why else should I care about anything else other than the fact I have never felt safer my whole life? Should this comfort be in the hands of a monster, I would not question it. I would only be grateful I met you.”

He didn’t speak for a moment, his grip only tightening a bit before one of his arms wound at the curve of your waist.

There was no telling who leaned in first. You were beyond lost in pleasure when he tugged you into his arms, his lips aggressively kissing yours. You groaned at tasting the animal blood still coated in his lips and tongue, but you didn’t care.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, mattered in this world anymore as you jumped into his frame, his arms strong and effortless as he carried you into his room.

The night faded with you tangled underneath him, your clothes ripped and torn, thrown at the other side of the room while he situated himself between you. His hands were no less than zealous as he cupped and touched every curve and dip of your body, his lips never leaving yours.

You moaned when he cupped your drenched core, legs opening further as his thumb grazed over your clit. Whining at his slow teasing that contrasted with his previous needs, you sat up to kiss him harder, pushing his back with your feet to press him closer to you. Both of you groaned when his cock teased along your wet slit, just enough to give a promise of what was to come, but he held onto your hips, his kisses faltering as he panted. “Human,” he growled, “Human, stop. If we go any further, I cannot guarantee I can control myself.”

“Do I make you lose control, Your Majesty?”

“It’s been a long time,” he pulled away from you, all traces of his darkened lust replaced with nothing but softness in his gaze now. He held you there underneath him, his gaze nothing but appreciative as he drunk in your bare features.

It made your chest swell with pride to see him with fussed up hair and bruised lips like that, knowing that you were the only one who had triggered his undoing. “I am only getting back in touch with the restraint I’ve abandoned centuries ago.”

You kissed him once more, this time a lot more gentle and sensual. “Then we shall stop, Your Majesty,” he fell beside you, pulling you closer until your cheek rested above his cold chest. He had worn you out with just simple touches, and sleepiness washed over you like a blanket, mindlessly murmuring things as you traced patterns on his skin. “I wish you would stop avoiding me from now on,” you mumbled, “Sometimes…sometimes I see you in my dreams, and they feel so real,” he stiffened at your words, knowing full well what they meant. “I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.”

Before he could speak, you’d already fallen asleep, leaving him with no other choice but to sigh and pull a blanket over your naked bodies. Pressing a kiss at the crown of your head, he made a silent promise to show you another time.

SCARLET [012.]

You and the King have grown more comfortable after the not-so-subtle declaration of each of your affections to one another. In your eyes, he was your savior and the man you adored most. In his eyes, you were his precious human, his long-awaited lover, and he’d run to hell and back just to be with you all over again.

But…things were different now.

He found it hard to be explicitly pinning you down his bed to let him ravage you. Memories of your past lives, his mistakes, and all his regrets never left him once in his hellish lifetime. Funny, he found it, that the moment you were gone, the moon refused to show itself, but every time you came after a moment of forever, he feels alive all over again.

“Join me? The water is quite warm tonight.”

He merely raised his brow, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you paddle into the water. There was no proper water supply in his castle, resorting to both of you retreating to the lake deep into the forest every night. This night was no different, but as always, he refused to bathe the same time you did in fear he might not be able to hold himself back. “I have no concept of what is warm and cold, human.”

“Would you like a demonstration then?”

He scoffed, smirking at the way you wiggled your brows. He would say he missed the vulnerable, frail human that always submitted to him, but that would be a lie, since he thoroughly enjoyed how you never shy in expressing your desire for him. “If this is your plan of getting me to touch you,” the King began to discard his clothes, his cock swelling at the way your eyes darkened as he unbuttoned each button of his shirt. “I cannot say I have complaints about it.”

You smiled, triumphant in your goals.

It doesn’t take him long to dive into the water with you, his tongue slipping past your lips while he hoisted your body up, cold hands cupping your ass. Bare like this, your nipples brushed across his chest in a mind-numbing sensation, and he doesn’t stop kissing you until his cock is nestled between your ass cheeks, allowing you to feel that he could be warm in just one place only.

“Mhm – Your Majesty,” you tugged at his hair, neck naturally falling to the side as you let him suck at your skin, his fangs coming out to graze at the sensitive flesh every now and then.

“Megumi,” he squeezed the flesh of your ass, “My name is Megumi. Call me nothing but my name,” you nodded absentmindedly, unable to focus on anything else other than his hands roaming each and every skin of your body despite him having already memorized it after loving for thousands of years. He only stops when you shudder in his arms, pulling away from you with a string of saliva attached to your lips. “You are shivering. And you said the water is warm.”

“You are cold, my love,” the nickname slips effortlessly from your lips that Megumi doesn’t even get the chance to be surprised, “I cannot help it.”

Megumi groaned into your mouth, testing the waters by fingering you under the water for a moment. You clamp around his fingers, begging him to finally touch you, and when you were so good and needy for him like that, how could he resist?

He carried you both and ran back to the castle, wasting no moment as he slipped inside you, both uncaring that his bed had been soaked wet. After living an impossibly life, Megumi learned it the hard way that being immortal didn’t mean he could do whatever he pleased. Time was still precious and gold even after an abundant amount of it, and forgive him for being impatient with the way he snapped his hips to yours for it had been forever.

Watching you fall apart under him, lips parted to let out pretty moans and your cunt still taking him in so well even after so many lifetimes, Megumi only falls for you harder than the last.

He interlaced his hands with yours once he saw you desperately grabbing for something, breasts bouncing at the inhumane speed he started. Megumi’s hips were brutal as it snapped to yours, your hips bruised and blue from his strong grip, fangs bare and eyes a blood red while he fucked deep into your cunt. You gasped as you clutched onto his bicep, toes curled at the sensation he was drowning you with.

“Megumi,” you cried out, eyes shut tight from the overwhelming pleasure. “Please – mark me. I wish to be no one else’s but yours.”

Megumi growled at your words, taking both of your legs and locking them to your side. The sudden stretch exerted on your muscles made you whimper as Megumi sat back on his thighs, watching the way his cock was sucked in by your slippery walls. “I will make you mine. You have always been mine long before you were aware of it,” he stated, forcing louder moans from you when he leaned forwards, bending your legs harder before he bit your shoulder.

Your nails scratched down his back, eyes blown wide open when you saw it, saw him. Megumi kept fucking until you were crying, face flushed and damp with tears.

The ceiling of his castle disappeared as the marking he gave you brought you back to a thousand years ago, playing in your head from your first kiss, to how he had drank you dry, all the way until your marriage and from accidentally leaving him during the war.

You were crying – both from the pleasure and pain that beat down on your heart – and Megumi lapped at the blood flowing from the wound, his tongue searing against the open flesh.

“Do you remember me now?”

“Megumi. Megumi, I’m sorry. You’d been alone all this time and I was not there with you. I am so sorry.”

“You are here with me now. It is fine, my love.”

This timed, you pulled him close enough that space and distance became nothing but a myth, lips desperately moving against one another. Megumi groaned into your mouth when you clamped down on him, prompting him to fuck you harder to reach both your highs. His thrusts soon grew sloppy and your cunt was past spent by the time he came inside, painting your walls white with thick ropes of cum.

Megumi remained inside you even as his cock softened, too comfortable inside your heat to want to be anywhere else. You sighed and kissed his cheeks, his eyes, his nose, then his lips, almost worshipping his beauty and soul you’d fallen in love with over and over again.

“How long has it been? Five hundred years – a thousand?”

“Forever. It’s been forever.”

“Was it worth it? Was I worth the wait?”

“Of course you are. You always will be.”

You closed your eyes, the tears still salty on your cheeks when he kissed them away. The arms wrapped around him tightened for a moment, heart pounding in your chest as you relived your past life in that moment. “Megumi,” you whispered, “Grant me the wish you could never fulfill for me before. Please, I no longer want to live another lifetime without you.”

This time, Megumi no longer frowned upon your words, kissing you once more before he cradled your neck and jaw, those blue eyes softening like the cloudy skies you both danced under in your first lives.

“Forever, my love,” he promised, “I’ll be with you forever. Whatever it is you want, I would give it all to you.”

SCARLET [013.]

Your head rested on Megumi’s shoulder, his arms wrapped around you protectively. The halls of his castle were dark and the soft music was drowned by the screams of the angry mobs outside, their fists banging and guns blaring to tear the place down.

Time had passed and you came to understand why Megumi never wanted you to be like him. He was right – there was nothing to be glorified in becoming a monster despite the gift of immortality. This much you knew after slaughtering villages with him, feeding on parents and snatching away futures from children all to feed your thirst.

Both of you were painfully aware and burdened by the bane that was your existence, which is why you two kept dancing, not minding the fact that castle was slowly crumbling down.

You had accepted your fate. You had gotten your wish.

Megumi had lived millennia of forever’s with you that you were both satiated, happy, fulfilled. When the song hit a high note that the record broke and the chandelier fell, crashing a few feet away from you with its glass shards cutting both of your skins, you kissed Megumi one last time, his grip on your hips as gentle as ever.

The doors had opened.

Gasoline spilled from every corner of the castle, torches thrown and fire licking up everywhere. Gunshots were fired. Anger was vexed and thrown your way as you clutched onto your lover with salty tears on your cheeks, the roof falling completely open until the sun shone through. Both of you hissed through the kiss when it burned at your skin, hot and scorching enough that you just wanted to die in that moment. And you would, in just a few moments, you knew you would.

Megumi pulled away from you, his smile lopsided and sad as he pressed his forehead into yours, etching your features in his soul once more just in case he’d never see you again. “See you in the next forever, my love?”

“Only if you’ll keep waiting for me,” you grinned, and Megumi reached down to plant one last kiss onto your throne, reminding you that you were his lover, his soul mate, his Queen – his world and his everything else. Of course he’d wait for you. There was no need to ask him this – he would always wait for you.

“Of course I will,” he promised, “I will always wait for you.”

This time, you were wholeheartedly prepared for your death.

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