#what started as only a tiny bit of blood exploded into this

[lizards-inc]

🩸🧛

[mimiiis]

Strangers (Remmick x Fem!Reader)

summary: “Dont talk to strangers or you might fall in love.”- Run away from home, you find yourself begging God to send someone who will love you.

warnings: 18+ mdni— !Not Proofread! , like a lot of religious trauma, heavy mentions/talk of death, death, mention of abuse, freaky ahh vampire, smut, sliight dry humping, boob play (?), munch Remmick, drool/saliva , piv sex, raw sex, creampie, blood, biting, blood sucking during sex, desperate and needy bitches, its a bit gorey and dark but nothing too much

word count: 14.5K

a/n: named after and inspired by the Ethel Cain song. I had a vision, blacked out, woke up to find about half of this written, then it took me two weeks to finish the rest 😔 Mostly because this is my first time writing smut! I hope it’s good as I’m still learning and trying to get the hang of it 😅!! This is lowkey also Nosferatu inspired but kinda of not? Idk, I hope you guys enjoy !!!

You don’t know how you found yourself out here. Alone in the dark, skin damp with sweat from the summer's humid and sticky air. Near an old dirt road, littered with flickering lightning bugs and the sounds of crickets singing throughout the tall grass and wheats. It was dead of night, when the only souls awake were creepers and those made of sin lurking within every shadow. The darkness surrounded you, covering you like a thick and heavy blanket under the night sky.

Your chest heaved, lungs burning and heels aching from how long you’ve been running. You could not even recall when you started running, so lost in your grief and guilt. At this point, you felt so far that you didn’t even care where you were going.

Adrenaline rushed through you, fighting and pushing back all the sadness and anger that wanted to burst up and out of your body. Your tears blinded you, eyes cast to the moon. You used her light as a beacon of hope, following and chasing its end for any kind of safety. Maybe it was the hot summer breeze, or simply your body burning from running for so long, but you swore you felt her rays cast a kind of warmth upon your skin.

You stared into the sky, combing through stars and clouds. Searching the high heavens for any kind of answer to where it was you were going. Distracted, dazed, and mind foggy, it all happened so fast. Just a second ago you were upright, head tilted high and unaware of the earth around you. But suddenly, it all came crashing into you at once. As if the world knew you were lost, it placed a rock in your path. You stepped on it without looking, only noticing when a sharp and jagged pain made its way through the sole of your foot. 

It made you fall, sending you flying through the air and landing onto the hard dirt floor. Pebbles and sharp sticks scrapped against the palms of your hands and knees, leaving the ache of parted skin and seeping blood in their path as you caught yourself.

You groaned, cussing out loud at the sudden fall. Your limbs were spread everywhere, cheek and forehead now resting against the ground and having scrapes of their own from the fall. Time had suddenly stopped, the wind no longer brushing your cheeks and the moon nowhere in sight. The realization sent a wave of panic through you. 

Your body begged for rest, but the pounding of your heart and mind yelled at you to keep moving. “I have to keep going,” you mumbled to yourself, quickly curling and lifting your body up until you sat on your knees. “I need to keep going.” The harsh burn of your lungs had finally caught up to you, leaving you dizzy and tired. You tried to collect yourself, to set your mind back into running but all that managed to come from it was the word where. 

Where were you going? 

The thought made everything stop. Your heart slowed its pounding, your breath began to steady, and the faint ache you felt in your heart exploded like a thousand tiny suns inside your chest.

What was your plan? You had run from home. Jumped out the window without a penny or scrap of clothing and didn’t think to look back. You just ran, fighting the feelings and consequences that now caught up to you in the middle of nowhere. Miles from home, you felt all the sadness and frustration you held on a tight leash being to break.

Your mama never understood, your papa didn’t care. No one else in the small town which you came from ever listened to you, they didn’t even want to look at you. So why did you run thinking they would come chasing? You thought they would send out the dogs. Wake every young man and boy to come looking for you when your mama realized you were no longer in bed. But the hours passed and you’ve heard no barks, no shouts of your names and haven’t even seen a single oil lamp since you left home. How foolish you are.

It all came crashing down and out at once. The sadness, the anger, and frustration that had been building up in your chest for years. It wracked into your body all at once, sending you crashing back down into the dirt with heavy sobs and whimpers. You were alone, always had been. But here, in the middle of a wheat field on a hot summer night, it was the first time you truly felt it.

Alone. The word rang like a bell throughout your body, twisting and digging itself deeper into the wound of your heart. A pain that had been there for so long and finally began to fester, infecting the rest of your body until it physically hurt. 

God, you’d been lonely for so long now, haven't you? 

As a girl, you remember praying for a friend. Someone to come and love and treat you like you were wanted. Someone to sweep you off of your feet, who would ride with you into the sunset for a happily ever after. Back then, you had so much faith in God. How delighted you felt to sit upon your bed and stare out into the night sky every single night. To softly clasp your hands together and talk to the Almighty. To whisper about your day and wants, hoping that he would answer, show you that he truly loved and listened to you. The years went by and you never made a friend, no one ever made you feel wanted. You prayed harder, begging to the point of tears for any kind of sign. But it never came. No one ever did. Not even God wanted you.

You haven't prayed in years. The desire to beg and pray to something you could not feel or see went away long ago. And yet, here, under the silver light of the moon, you felt yourself grasping onto any scraps of faith that were left in your body. Your hands began to clench together and your lips began to tremble. You were desperate, searching and clinging onto any kind of comfort the action brought to you.

 To who or what you prayed to– you did not care. As long as someone or something answered. 

“Please,” you whimpered like an injured dog,”Anyone.” 

“Come to me…” You whispered into the darkness, words so faint you could hardly hear them over the sniffles of your nose.

“Come to me,” You began to beg over sobs., whimpering the words over and over again between gasps. “Anyone… just save me. Show me I am loved.” Fat tears fell onto the earth as you bent over to place your head onto the dirt. All that you were is now gone, and all that's left is a scared little girl begging for a friend. 

In your desperation, you hadn’t a clue what you were calling for. Never believed in those dark spirits your mama and aunties warned you to be weary about. You did not know what was in the darkness and unknown. What it was that waited in the shadows. Had you known what would show up you would have never uttered the words. 

Out of all the prayers you ever muttered or begged, why did God choose to answer this one?

Of all the things to bring you, why him? 

☆

Minutes passed and exhaustion began to eat away at you. Sleep gnawed at your eyes and made you yawn, not caring about where you were. You stayed hunched over and on your knees, as still as a rock laying in wait. Tears still fell onto your cheeks, the feeling of hopelessness eating away at you.

You were sure you were going to die, letting your own misery and body eat away at itself until you were nothing but a shell. The only thing you could think of doing was to wallow in your shame and sadness, all you could focus on were the thoughts that ran through your mind. You were so lost within yourself you did not even realize that there was a man now standing next to you.

The sudden sound of the tall grass rustling made you look up, and the sight that you were met with made your blood go cold and had you jumping to collect yourself. 

He was pale, skin sweaty and glowing under the moonlight. His body was strong, compact and lined with soft muscles and broad shoulders. A white and blue striped button up clung to his body, suspenders coming from beneath his trousers and a glimmer of light caught on the necklace wrapped around his neck. His arms and body were bent in a surrendered position, palms away from his sides as if to show you he meant no harm. Your heart pounded from the fright his presence suddenly gave you. 

You hadn’t heard footsteps at all. Even in your state you surely would have heard the loud footsteps of a man his size. You almost blamed it on the loud chattering of crickets and cicadas, but when you listened you found that you heard none. As if the earth went silent, put on pause by the looming presence of the man before you. 

You looked up at him, still on the dirt floor. His face was strong, but with a kind of edged softness that made him seem less threatening. A soft half smile lingered on his lips, parted like he was waiting for you to ask something so he could reply. You didn’t, not yet. Did not know what to say. You were alone with a white man in the middle of a wheat field, in the dead of night– what could you even say?

The moonlight revealed him to you. Every fold and curve of his body, each wrinkle and twitch, you could see it all. All but his eyes. They were shrouded in darkness, a void of light and hidden beneath the shadows of his own face. It all felt wrong, too strange to be normal. 

Sweat dripped from your forehead as chills began to run up your spine. The sadness you were feeling was now long gone, fear creeping in slowly to take its place. You felt your mouth open, lips parting and searching for any words to say, but none came out. All you could muster up was the first thing that came to your mind.

“What’s a man doin’ out here…this late at night?” You managed to stutter out, voice hushed but loud enough for him to hear from the distance between you two. They were not the smartest words to say, but it was all you could manage to spit out . The hairs on your arm stood on their ends as you felt him look you up and down. 

The half smile of his lips formed a sly grin, and the sound of a chuckle escaped him. “It ain’t nun for you to worry ‘bout right now, darlin.” His voice and words were as smooth as honey. Velvet like and with a deep grumble that made you shiver. His words had no malice, in fact he said them as softly as a lover. “Was just walkin’ ‘round when I saw the path in the grass, followed it out here.” He began to step closer, as slow as a wolf stalking its prey. “What’s a sweet girl like you doin’ out here, all alone, at this hour? Hmmn?”

 Concern and kindness dripped in every word he spoke. He slowly bent down towards you, sitting on his haunches a meer foot away. You stared at him, holding in your breath. No man was ever this kind, such a thing didn’t exist. You followed every motion of his body, studying him and trying so hard to peer into his eyes. He was so close now, every dimple of his face and curl of his hair so close, merely a breath away. 

You should be terrified, start screaming and trying to defend yourself. Never talk to someone you don’t know, your mama always said. But he didn’t feel like a stranger, no. Despite the unease you felt being around him, he carried an air of comfort. A type of welcoming softness that made you want to spill all your secrets to him if he said the word. He looked like the type of man you woulda begged your mama to let you marry. He was rugged, hands thick and scarred from whatever labor he did. The sight of him made you shiver, in ways that were both good and bad. God, he was so close. When did he creep closer? 

“C’mon now… tell me what happened to ya, dove.” His hand was brushing your cheek, wiping away a tear that glistened atop your cheek. And that was it, the breaking point. With a single stroke, your fate was sealed the moment he touched you and spoke those words. It all came tumbling out from your lips. Incoherent and almost all mumbled together, the sobs that you had once stopped all came back from his kind words that were more than your poor and fragile heart could handle. 

“Mama and papa, they- they wanted to marry me to that ugly ugly man!” Tears began to blur your vision once more and your dusty bloody hands came to wipe them away. “He’s already had three wives. Beat all of ‘em senseless and left nasty bruises for the world to see after he took ‘em to bed. Then they all died in childbirth, along with the babies who were too big to even come out and take their first breaths… Oh those poor babies, sir.” You hiccuped between every sentence, struggling to catch your breath. 

“I don’t want that.. I couldn’t have that, I-i could never,” You leaned into his presence, “No one ever helped me, they never understood. I did what I had to, I swear.” You looked at him with pleading eyes, begging for any sign of understanding from him. Your cries steadied, the wave of immense guilt washing over you like a tide once you said the words aloud. Like a chain snapping free. You began to mutter something more, but he quickly shushed you.

His hands came up to cup your face, holding you as delicate as a flower. “Shh, It’s alright, it’s alright darlin’. You won’t need to be dealin’ with all ‘at any longer. I’m here, okay?” He holds your cheeks in his hands, face lining up with his. He was so close, you could feel your breaths mingling. His warmth seeped into you, deep into you as you stared into the dark void of his eyes. So dark, they practically absorbed all the light they came into contact with. They were as cold as an unforgiving winter, older and more rotten than everything you’ve ever seen before. 

It should have scared you, made you want to run and hide in the ends of the earth. But it didn’t. 

“I don’t know what to do now, sir.” You whispered, suddenly feeling so shy under his gaze. 

“T’s alright. I’m here, I’m here.” His voice was so low, you could feel the rumble in his chest as he spoke. It sent tingles up your spine and down between your legs. It was like a siren song, pulling you under the tide and sweeping you away. “I’ve come, I’m here. I’m all you need, you’re all I need.” The words come out like a mantra, repeating them over and over like he was trying to convince himself what he said was true.

He leaned in closer, placing his forehead against yours. You sighed and closed your eyes at the gesture, feeling his hands begin to wander down to your neck. Something about his hands so close to you made you want to run, to flee and escape the false sense of security you undoubtedly fell for. But you’d rather any false touch than return to the reality of what faced you outside of this moment. 

“You just needa feel good, sugar. I can make you feel good.” His tone was dripping with seduction now, each word feeling so sensual you weren’t sure if it was real. He shuts his mouth, moving in closer before placing his lips atop your cheeks, giving them soft butterfly kisses. Your eyes shut, lashes fluttering at the sweet sensation. You surrendered yourself to this unknown sweetness, not knowing it would damn you for all eternity. He kisses down your face, towards your neck, hands angling your neck back to expose more of the sensitive flesh. 

You feel his hands wander your body, gripping and searching for more exposed skin. And when he could not find any, his fingers made their way to the buttons on your blouse and began undoing them. His mouth latched onto your neck, leaving soft bites and long kisses along the base as he made his way further down. Your breath hitched at the sensation, a tiny whimper escaping from your throat and your hands came up to grip his shoulders. An attempt to ground yourself to earth, to this moment that felt like heaven hath come at last. 

Your body felt like it was on fire, hotter than any summer sun could make you feel. You were burning from the inside out, whimpering like a dog in heat when his hands exposed your chest to the soft night breeze. Ripping the fabric of your blouse, he squeezed the soft flesh of your bare breast. His calloused hands squeezed hard, fingers pinching at your nipple in such an achingly sweet way all you could do was arch your back. You wanted more, your body practically begged for it. You needed it. 

Your heart was pounding, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He held you like if you were going to disappear in an instant, mouth stuck on you and kissing and licking all the flesh he could find.

You threw your head back, arms going limp as you surrendered yourself to the sweet pleasure he brought you. Flimsy scraps of clothing was all that separated you two from being flesh to flesh. Your soft moans and his groans filled the air, a symphony of damned and doomed souls not caring to hide this open, raw, and filthy desire. 

His mouth went further down, kissing along your collarbones and shoulders. His hand came back to your neck, holding it and craning it so you could still see him from the corners of your eye. His lips part from your skin, eyes looking up to search for yours. Drool dripped from the corners of his mouth, the bewildered and bewitched look in his eyes sent goose pimples rising all over your body. A wolfish grin formed after he took and savored the vision of your surrender. 

“I’ll try not to make it hurt.” He slowly whispered, diving back down to the junction of your shoulder and neck. By the time you realized what he said, it was already too late. A sharp and searing pain struck you, sending your body writhing and thrashing against him. You gasped, his soft grip had turned to iron as he pinned you down. You tried to cry, to scream, to fight and push him off but it was no use. You got yourself into this mess, how were you going to get out?

Stupid, stupid girl! The words your mother and father had screamed to you your whole life came rushing back to you. The little life you had lived flashed before your eyes, memories of being a girl and growing up. Soaking in the summer sun, hot meals on cold winter nights. Was this truly it? You felt the sticky liquid of blood begin to drip down your neck, sharp teeth biting and sinking into you. The man beside you groans into your skin, and you realize that this was it. 

You couldn’t even cry anymore, the exhaustion of your mind and body finally hitting you. This was it. Your sins had caught up to you and this was your punishment. You stopped fighting the moment you realized no one was coming to save you. God hadn’t come. Even at the end of your life, he sent no one to save you. 

Or maybe, he had. Maybe this cruel man sucking on your skin was really the angel of death. The sweet release he brought was your salvation. Lead you in with the feelings you always wanted to feel, the soft touch you always craved. Words were lost to you, but for some odd reason you wanted to thank the man. For ending your life, freeing you from the misery that shackled you onto this earth. But you felt so weak, so tired and just wanted to sleep. So you brought your hand to his cheek, your dirty bloody hand.

You caressed the side of his face, looking down at him as if you understood. He looked up at the sudden touch and met your gaze. And for a second, he stopped. His mouth parted from your skin, and he raised his head to meet yours once more. Shock seemed to choke him, making him forget what it was that he had been doing to gaze into your soul.

The moonlight glimmered and reflected in your eyes, all the sweetness your heart had left pouring out of them. You looked at him as if he had hung the stars, and in the darkness of his heart he felt a kernel of hope ignite. Familiarity, love, and something so old and forgotten that it no longer had a name struck him all at once– you could see the regret in his face. But it was too late. He began to mutter out some words, muddled as his grip fell soft once more and he tried to keep your eyes open. But it was no use. You shut them a few seconds later, succumbing to the darkness and exhaustion of your body, hoping to be far from this world when you opened your eyes.

But when you woke up, you were still here on earth. Still in that wheat field with your face in the ground with bloody hands and knees. It was around midday, when you felt a young man shaking you awake and pouring water down your throat. The summer sun had already burned your skin, making it feel tight and tender from how long you had been laying in it. Your memories flooded

back to you the instant you opened your eyes. You looked around frantically, heart pounding and breathing so heavily that the boy had to help calm you down. He explained how he found you, alone, saw no sign or trace of anyone else being here. You could’ve easily chosen to believe him–fall into a fantasy that the night was nothing but a dream. But the aching bruise and scar of teeth marks across your shoulder and breast made you remember it was real. His face, his hands, the tender kisses he gave you before he almost bled you to death. Even the look he gave you just before you passed out– all real.

You shook in terror, desperately trying to tell the young man your story. Unintelligible mumbles fell from your lips, he simply looked at you with understanding and gentle eyes. “It’s okay, Miss. How ‘bout we get you cleaned up and somewhere safe first?” Was all he said in response, quickly lifting you up and taking you away before you could say another word. 

You may have still been alive, breathing and blinking, but you knew that some part of you had died in that field. Marked for death and damned to hell, you knew he would come back for you. 

☆

5 years have gone by since that night. Your body grew into itself and the bruises healed, leaving only a faded scar behind. Your face was fuller, mind and soul grown into a woman that had finally made a place in the world for herself. You grew out of your timidness, taking what you wanted before anyone could steal it from you.

You found a home in a town west from where you had run from, living with an elderly woman who paid you to clean her home and keep her company. You made the young boy who found you your lover as well, snatched him up and made him promise to you that he’d never leave. He gave you a silver ring to place on your finger 2 years after being together. You finally had somewhere you belonged. You didn’t feel lonely anymore.

And after that night, you never allowed yourself to be. Never once let yourself wallow in pity or crawl back into the dark hole that led you here in the first place. But on the rare occasion when you would slip up and let the shadows creep in, you could feel him.

Shivers crept up your spine and made your hair stand each time you looked outside during the night. He followed where you went, stalked and waited for the day he could finally take you for his own once more. You could often feel him call you outside, singing a sweet melody meant for only you to hear. Sometimes you swore that the scar would begin to ache. Feeling like it would rip itself open and spill blood all over again, inviting him to come and finish the job. 

You knew what he was. A Vampire. A blood sucking demon. A human soul cursed and trapped inside of a dying body forever. Unable to walk in the sun, their hearts turning darker and more rotten with each passing year their bodies stayed on this earth. 

The old woman you lived with was superstitious, her house full of herbs and smelling of incense. She had been the one to tell you all of this. She knew secrets and the way the world worked. She would cast and brew spells that warded off evil every other moon. You liked to think that she kept you safe with them. Believed that she was the one that held him back from coming to you.

“If he had continued drinking, you would be one too.” She had once said, spilling the words over breakfast like it was nothing. But to you, they were everything. 

The words kept you up at night. Consuming your mind and every waking moment for weeks with the questions of What if? Was that the fate that awaited you? If he turned you, would your heart stop beating or would you still be able to feel its phantom pulse in your chest? How lonely was eternity? Were you ready to face it? At the time, they were all useless questions. Outlandish scenarios you convinced yourself would never come to fruit. 

But now, the old lady was dead. Her spells and magic were gone. The protection and security the woman brought to you had vanished. 

You confided in your lover with your worries, and he called you mad. He grew distant, never made love or kissed you anymore. You clung onto the scraps he gave you, convincing yourself it was all fine. Until one night, when he got up and left. You found out from the townsfolk he stole a case of booze and ran off. He took that silver ring with him too.

You spent the past few years building a life, then it all came crashing down on you. 

You started to feel like the girl in the field again. Cold and shivering. So lost and scared in a world that failed you time and time again.

Were you truly destined to be alone?

Your heart sunk into your chest, falling deep into the pit of your stomach, when something else began to take its place. Something so old and forgotten that it began to creep and crawl out of your throat, plaguing you with a truth you had been denying yourself of all along. 

You tried not to think about the way you cried and begged God to bring you someone who could love you. Made it a point to not even think about it. Embarrassed by the fact you felt so desperate enough to confide in Him. But for a long time, you truly believed it was your lover. You thought him to be heaven made, sent for you. His careful and sweet touch was just what you thought you needed. “He will never leave, he will always be here.” Words you would repeat over and over to soothe yourself. But he ended up leaving like you meant nothing to him.

You couldn’t ignore it anymore. The light was gone and the darkness stared at you dead in the eye. What you thought all those years ago was true then. That man who bit your neck and breast, the reason behind the scars and fear you carried with you all those years. He hadn’t marked you for death, he marked you as his.  

☆

You were always weak to your impulses. Ruling your body with feeling over logic. You did what felt right in the moment, not caring for the consequences. And now, at your most tired and lonesome, you weren’t going to make an exception. 

It was summer once more, and the familiarity of it all came rushing to you. Hot, humid air blew in the wind. The heat that had seeped into the earth during the day now rose up to greet the night, the sun's lingering presence not giving you a moment of peace. Every window of the house was open, welcoming the slight breeze that rustled the leaves outside. You sat on a pillow by the front door, leaning against the frame. You fanned yourself with a makeshift paper fan and breathed so slowly for fear of sweating if you moved too fast. You stared out into the sky, watching the last light of the sun fade away and dip into the earth before the stars came out to shine. 

Pink and blue hues began to color the world as the sun winked its final light, making a sudden pang of loneliness pull on your heartstrings. You had decided what you were going to do earlier that day. Felt no remorse or regret. But still, the sadness began to creep in and surprise you. Of all the things you could be feeling– fear, shame, or guilt– sadness was all that came to mind. Sadness and the worn out feeling of spending years waiting and molding yourself into what others wanted you to be. You changed and broke apart pieces of yourself to fit into a narrative that wasn’t even yours. Only for it to all crumble away within a month. You had nothing left to lose anymore. 

With a deep breath, you reached into your heart. Clung onto the desperation and small scrap of faith still hidden deep within your soul, and whispered the words you hadn’t dared to utter in years.

“Come to me.”

He didn’t take long to respond to your call. You closed your eyes only for a few seconds, and when you opened them, there he was. Walking through the tall grass, coming from the trees like he had been waiting for you to call. He walked like he owned the very ground he stepped on, purpose in his slow stride. The moon was out by now, shining in her full glory. She illuminated his path towards you, as if she knew where he belonged and led him there herself. 

He looked the same as he did in your dreams. Wearing the same thin cotton button up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and unbuttoned at the top of his chest, exposing a dark colored tank top underneath and a gold necklace that clung onto his neck. He seemed disheveled, hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. Sweat dripped from his forehead, skin damp and making his clothes stick to his skin. Every curve and muscle contoured, you could see it all. 

He walked right up and onto the porch, the wood creaking and whining beneath him as he slowly made his way to the door. A smirk painted his lips when he saw you looking at him. So frightened, like a little lamb who called for her mother and instead ended up with a wolf at her door. Just as beautiful as when he’d last seen you. 

“Took you long enough, darlin.” His voice sounded just as sweet as you remembered. As gravely and thick as sugar. Your blood went cold at the sound. 

He was here. Truly here. Most nights you wondered if the light stubble of his chin and the soft expression of his eyes were things you had imagined, made up on the long nights you would think of him– but they weren’t. He was just how you remembered him, how you dreamed him. You weren’t sure what to say. You spent countless times imagining how this meeting would go. And here you were, mouth gone dry and at a loss for words.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.” You managed to rasp out, voice catching and cracking slightly as you looked up at him. You were still sitting on the floor of the house, body curling into itself in response to your now pounding heart. 

That made him grin, “Now how could I ever resist you? Sweetest thing I’ve ever had,” He looked right into your soul, stripping you bare with just a glance, as he said the words. His eyes roamed over your body, tracing your curves over the thin nightgown you wore. “Sweetest thing to look at, couldn’t stay away. Wanted to come and take ya sooner, but the ol’ witch knew how to keep me away from you.” His voice sounded so soft, so gentle. The kind of tone you’d use to call a pet out of a hiding spot. “It was torture.” 

Shivers crawled up and down your spine, breath hitching and catching in your throat. He spoke the words so freely, so casually– like they weren’t dripping with sin. They made your back straighten, hands shake and stomach flutter. Had you been any smarter, you would have run inside, Locked the doors and shut the windows, waited him out until your own death came for you. But it was already here though, wasn’t it? Standing right in front of you with a smirk, ready to eat you right up. 

You knew that what he said was fake. A show and act put on and practiced to perfection just for you. It should've made you cower, rethinking your decision and push him away. But all you could think about was how it’s been so long since you last heard such sweet words. Spoken by a man who knew what he wanted, like he needed and craved you so badly he was starving. 

“You’ve been waitin’ for me too though, haven’t you sugar?” He hums, cocking his head to the side and swaying closer to the door. “Jus’ finally worked up the courage to ask for it.” He bends down, meeting you eye to eye. A large and almost nasty smirk decorticated his lips, flashes of teeth showing that made a cold sweat drip down your neck. 

“I know you thought about me every night.” His voice lowered, gaze darkening. The cold void of his eyes caught the light of the oil lamp hung above your door, consuming all its warmth. You could see yourself in the reflection, all wide eyed and pale with fear. “I did too, dreamt of you.” He got on his hands and knees, inching and crawling closer towards you. 

Something told you that he enjoyed it. “How I wished I could touch you again,” he groaned, the sound coming from deep within him. He reached out to touch you, hand shaking in excitement. His fingers came close to your cheek, the tips right about to graze the soft skin, before he flinched away. A hiss leaves him, shaking his hand and bearing his teeth from the sudden pain. If you listened closely, you swore you could hear a faint sizzle.

Ah, right. 

You had forgotten about that rule. The most important rule the old woman told you about his kind. He couldn’t touch you, not while you were inside of the house. Vampires weren’t allowed to enter homes unless invited. Weren’t allowed to cross the threshold and take everything that they wanted, when they wanted. To him, it was a minor setback. To you, you thought it was some kind of divine protection. At least, just for a moment. A few more minutes to live, time to muster up the courage and ask what you had been aching to for all those years. You would let him in sooner than later.  

He chuckles, lip curling back to flash the fangs of his teeth as he begins to soothe his hand. “You gon’ let me in or not, baby?” He says it inbetween a whiny little laugh, almost whimpering. The cool collectedness of his voice was starting to slip, pulling back to reveal a type of growing and longing desperation. The sound made your heart stutter, stomach leap, you don’t think you were supposed to hear it. “I came all this way.”

The way his eyes softened, lip pouting and body begging to hunch over, made you want to believe him. Take every word he says and let it fill your fragile little heart with the illusion that he loved you. Made you want to say the words that will ruin what was left of your life. You had to take a long, deep breath to collect yourself. 

“Not yet.” You reply softly, meeting his pleading gaze. 

You turned to sit up on your knees, mirroring his own position. Your back was straight in contrast to his, head shaking as you tried to muster up the little strength left inside of you to fight off the fear that crawled all over you. You were so close to the door, hands almost slipping across that invisible line he couldn't move past. 

So much time, so days and hours spent wondering what this meeting would be like. He had taken over your mind, your body, your very soul since that first night. He knew how to lure you out. His sweet words and voice, seduction rolling off of his tongue like syrup. Yet, looking at him now. Bent over, almost begging to have you– it may be what will break you. 

God, you wanted it so badly. To have that taste of delicious sin. Feel the high of life before crashing and plummeting to your death. Feel his hands roam and touch your body, lips pressing against your skin. Your very being ached for it.

But you couldn’t. Would not allow yourself to give into the pleasures you had longed for. Not after you spent years wondering over the reason you’re still here, the reason you even called him again. Your life, your death. 

You leaned in closer to the door, hands touching the warm wood below you. Eyes slanting, seducing him back as you asked, “Why didn’t you kill me?” 

You dragged the words out, making sure he heard each one. Soft and slow, like a blade against skin, cutting deep. You stared into his eyes, making sure you didn’t leave his sight. Though the longer you looked, you swore you felt a warmth grow inside of their relentless cold.

He blinked, brows furrowing at the words. Startled and taken aback, he leaned away from you ever so slightly. As if he had never expected you to ask that. In the perfected and practiced scenario of his mind, he never thought it a possibility. He almost looked hurt, face slowly falling and the polished act had begun to slip away. You hit a nerve. One you did not even know existed. 

“You had me in your palm. I was willin’, I was ready.” You continued when he did not answer, “I still am.” You inch closer, your turn to crawl to him. To the beast outside of your door. “What changed?”

If you were the lamb, and he the wolf– why did he looked absolutely terrified all of us sudden? Petrified. His eyes widened, staring at you.Trying to look right through you and your intentions. Like you found out something only he knew. He scrambled for a response, trying to figure out the game you began to play. 

“When you taste something so sweet, wouldn’t you wanna savor it?” He whispers through nervous chuckles. 

You frowned at his response. He was lying to you. You didn’t want anymore lies. You didn’t think that you deserved them. How much longer were you supposed to follow his rules, play his games. Even at the end of your life, as you handed yourself to him on a silver platter, why could he not just say things plainly?

“Don’t lie to me.” Annoyance and ire begin to bubble. 

“Not now. Not anymore,” But the feelings fell away as fast as they came, revealing and leaving you with the tiredness you’ve felt all along. “Please.” You whimpered, not wanting to fight for it anymore. 

The words fade into the night, leaving the two of you in silence. Lightning bugs flutter and flickered their lights in the darkness. Crickets string their song in the tall grass and in a nearby tree, a lone mourning dove sings. 

You weren’t sure for how long you were like that. On your hands and knees, looking and begging at him to tell you the truth. While his eyes pleaded and begged for you to grant him mercy. Both merely an inch apart, separated by a door frame and three little words.

You had always thought that vampires didn’t have hearts. That there was only a rotten and empty shell inside of their chest where a heart must have been instead. So, why could you hear his pounding? His chest rose and fell as he attempted to steady the relentless beat, but it would not stop thumping. Not while you were in front of him, not while you looked at him like that. 

You supposed that he never understood or grasped his own desperation for you until now. Didn’t know or acknowledge just how badly he wanted you. How could he resist you? The second you called, he came crawling. He’d crawl for miles if you asked. 

“You wanna know why I couldn’t kill you?” He speaks suddenly, voice sounding like a shout in the silence. “Why I couldn’t finish it?” He gulps, inching back to you. The desperation was still there, but he made it his own. He stared you down as you did him, and you could see that he was just as done with games as you were. You nod lightly, pursing your lips shut. He rises from his position, sitting back on his knees to tower over you. 

“Caue of that..” He takes a deep breath. “Cause of that damned look you gave me.” He sighs, almost embarrassed to admit it. 

The words confused you, sending you down a spiral of questions in your mind. He answers them before you can even ask. 

“The look you gave me, right before ya fell asleep.” Ah.

You had forgotten that. Forgotten the way you thought he was your savior and looked at him like so. Like he hung the stars, like he was the first person to have ever loved you. With a mouth and face full of blood, you thought that the angel of death was sent to collect you. You would’ve never have thought to see your angel begging for you outside of your door.   

“No one’s looked at me like that. Not for a long time. Made me realize something. The reason I was able to feel you, to know you needed me.” The words sent a chill down your spine, and you felt your cheeks heat. Your breath caught, eyes widening and you saw him reach his hand towards you once more. 

“You’re mine darlin’. You’ve been mine for longer than you’ve known.” His fingertips brushed against your cheek, caressing the skin so lightly you weren’t even sure that he was. “You feel like sunlight.” Passion and defeat dripped in every word he spoke. He knew what it was he felt, he didn’t need to convince himself of it anymore. 

You’re sure that you heart was trying to escape from your chest. Pounding at your ribs, sending all the blood of your body to your head and face. You felt your hands shake, knees wobbling and every inch of you felt like it was burning. So hot, the summer heat and his touch only made you feel hotter. Your mouth went dry, and your eyes still hadn’t left his. 

He told the truth. The whole hearted, raw and bloodied truth. The rot and cold in his eyes fell away, and beneath it just lay a man. He looked so human.

“How could I kill the one thing that feels like sunlight?” He whispered so softly. You felt your chest and something so deep inside of you begin to ache at the words.

His hand wiped a stray tear you didn't even know had fallen. And just like before, your fate was sealed with just one touch and a few sweet words.

You knew what awaited you if you let him in. The death that you’re sure would’ve still followed even after this. Yet, you did not care. You’ve been waiting for each other for a long time now. Longer than either of you could recall. You needed him, the same way he needed you. Even in life, even in death.

“Come to me.” You whispered once more, and the spell keeping you from him broke. 

He crawled to you like a starved man, ready to pounce and devour the feast set before him. 

He kissed you so fast, so desperately, it took a second for you to realize that his lips were on yours. 

At the taste of you, a deep groan escaped him. You felt pure, sweet, just like before. Tasting like a sweet summer wine made just for him to devour. It had his head spinning, arms wrapping around your back to pull you against him. Holding your body close, feeling and groping all he could to make sure you were real. 

You felt your heart pound faster than before, surely  making its way through your skin and out of your chest by now. You could feel it leap out of you, along with all sense and reason. 

From the way he kissed you, the way his hands wandered and linger over your body, you knew he meant to devour. Could feel the way he meant to consume your very heart and soul from the inside out. Your body and mind surrendered into his touch, having been no longer yours since the second he came crawling back to you. You felt your knees ache, shaking and going numb from the surge of pleasure that began to spread throughout your body. 

He was the spark that reignited an old flame deep inside of you. One that had died out the second your old lover left you.

You kissed him deeper, hands grasping at his arms like some kind of tether to the world. Holding you up and pulling you closer, chest to chest like you were trying to stick yourself onto him. 

They wandered up, feeling and caressing the soft muscles of his shoulders beneath the thin cotton of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. He felt like fire in the summer heat, burning you with every graze. 

Your hands soon find purchase in his hair. Fingertips running and combing through the soft locks, lightly grasping at small bunches. It tickled, sending shivers down his spine and forming goosebumps down his body from the way you pulled and clung onto him. It made his cock twitch. 

He hummed, mouth parting from yours to let out a soft chuckle and moan. A small trail of spit clung onto both of your lips, connecting you for a second more before breaking off and dripping down your chest. You gasped for breath, chest heaving in time with his own— panting likes dogs. Breathing so heavily, it left you lightheaded. You didn’t know where he started and you ended anymore. 

Waves of pleasure washed over you, crawling down your back and in between your thighs with the sweat that dampened your flesh. It made the fabric of your nightgown stick to you like a second skin, the feeling growing more uncomfortable and irritating by the second. It hugged your curves, bunching around your hips and thighs until it felt like you were being covered in heavier layers. 

A whine left your throat, sweet and high pitched from the way you felt his hands begin to roam down your body. Feeling you up, caressing all the bare skin he could find until all that was left to touch was the thin fabric. Thick hands stopped at your thighs, playing with the ends of the dress, running calloused fingers across the soft sensitive tops and stopping right before the place where your thighs met. 

You looked up at him, eyes pleading and begging him to undress you. To take you. Help you with the growing ache that grew in your cunt. 

You swore you felt like you were going to die. Body shaking and searching for any type of release. All you could feel, see, hear, or even think of was him. The smooth, deep musk of his body filled your nose. He smelled like pinewood and salt, tasted like iron and whiskey.  The low groans and moans that rose from within his chest shook you, the vibrations running down deeper than you would’ve thought they could. 

He had barely begun to touch you, and you were already drunk off of his very being. 

Thoughtlessly, your hips began to rut against the knee he had placed between your thighs. Having spread them and sat you over his lap when he began to kiss you. The fabric of his trousers was rough and coarse, but if you angled your hips a certain way— it felt like bliss. You grinded against his thigh, swaying back and forth as your fingers dug deep into the skin of his shoulders. Nail forming tiny crescent moons, trying to hold him still as you used him. 

The feeling of it was electric, fire coursing and flowing through your veins with every move and touch. It was in your bones. So strong and consuming. You’ve never felt this way before. 

If your mother could see you now, she’d damn you to hell twice over. Shout and call you words that a good church lady should never even know. It wouldn’t have mattered, couldn’t find it in you to care. You gave yourself to the devil long ago, ached for him to swallow you whole. 

“Poor baby,” He teases breathlessly, a smirk making his way onto his lips at your display. “Really need me that much, do ya?” His lips were at your ear, licking and biting the shell softly. His hands came to your hips, gripping at them to stop your frantic movements.  

You whined, but quickly nodded in response, all too eager. The reaction made him laugh, mouth moving down your cheek. 

“T’s alright, I’m here to make you feel good.” He whispered against your skin, before diving back in to kiss your lips. 

It was softer this time. Slower, more tender. His head dipped into yours, lips meeting in a soft sweet peck. He closed his eyes, hands crawling back up your hips before gently laying you down. The hard wooden floor hit your back, the smoothness of the boards cold against your skin. Time seemed to slow down at the sudden softness of his actions, the pulsing want of your body burning down into soft embers. 

He wanted to enjoy it now. Savor every bit and taste he took of you. No longer rushed, he realized you weren’t going anywhere. 

He kissed along your mouth, wandering down slowly to your chin and softly to your neck. Your head tilted back, exposing the sensitive skin for him to breathe in. Your skin was salty, tongue darting out to taste and lick along the lines of your collarbones as he made his way closer and closer to the junction between your shoulder and neck. Your blood was pulsing, rushing and filling each part he dared to touch. 

His hands roamed your waist, rising to grope at your breasts. He took them in his hands, feeling your heartbeat through the fat, before giving them a soft squeeze that had you moaning. Your back arched at the touch, and you had to bite your lip shut. Your nerves felt like frayed wires, everything a thousand times sensitive. Every feeling and sensation heightened in a way that had you reeling. You could feel the wetness between your thighs grow, legs starting to shake and wanting to rut against him once again. 

His lips finally made their way to your shoulders, kissing every throbbing pulse point he could find. His teeth grazed your skin, lightly biting and sucking. 

He left your chest, hands coming up to pull the flimsy straps of your night dress down. He yanked on the fabric, pulling it down so harshly that it ended up tearing right down the middle. Revealing your skin to the night breeze, your breasts and stomach clear for him to see.

On instinct, your arms moved swiftly in an attempt to cover up yourself. Embarrassment leaving your cheeks hot from the sudden exposure which came all too quick. He grabbed you by the wrists before you could even place a hand on yourself, a faux frown forming on his lips as he raised his head to look at you. Eyes wandering over your naked body, taking in every curve. 

“Ain’t no hiding from me, sugar.” He whispered hoarsely, a possessive tone beneath the words.He placed your hands to your side with force. Keep them there. 

“It's all mine anyways.” 

He dove back in quickly, meeting your breasts again. His calloused fingers were rough against the soft and plush flesh. Your nipples hardened, aching for attention in the cold air. When he took note of them, he wasted no time. Pinching and flicking at the sensitive buds, you let out an almost whimper like moan. A whiny, needy, little noise that came from the back of your throat. The sound had his cock leaking with want. 

He brought his mouth down, gently sucking one in between his lips. His tongue rolled over the bud, circling so softly it felt faint. Spit rolled down between the valley of your breasts as he moved onto the neglected one. He sucked just as softly, and you felt your desire leak. 

You pulled at his clothes, trying to tear the wrinkled shirt off of him. You wanted him naked, skin bare and flush against yours. You needed to feel him. Craved his warmth. You clawed at him, hips bucking and back arching until he got the hint.

He raised himself up, messily undoing the buttons of the shirt before throwing it off and behind him. He glistened in the moonlight, the paleness of his skin glowing with the thin layer of sweat that clung to his skin. The sight of his broad shoulders and soft muscles made your skin crawl, hands going numb and pulling away. You stared at him dumbfoundedly, like he really did hang the moon and stars.

You had never really looked or took in the male form before. When your old lover would have you, your face was always stuffed in the pillows or pressed against his head. Blind to his body, you always pictured him clothed even when he was bare and pressed against you. 

But now, looking up at this man, you realized why a woman would crave sin so badly. The way his muscles flexed with every move, the lines that contoured his chest and stomach— going all the down, down, down, to his hips. Your eyes lingered at the small patch of hair that trailed from his belly and disappeared from beneath his pants. The sight made your knees weak.  

You squeezed your thighs, taking in a shaky breath. You met his eyes once more, and behind them saw a cool darkness. Focused, pupils red and burning with lust as he admired the sight of you.

He tore the remaining scraps of your nightgown, leaving you naked as the day you were born. Body free and open for only him to see, his eyes wandered and explored every part of you. Taking in every fold, every birthmark, dimple, and scar that littered your body. 

His hands felt across your skin, squeezing and making their way across the smooth expanse so slowly. Down your thighs, up to your stomach, between your chest, caressing and worshiping every inch he touched. And where his hands went, so did his lips. He leaned his head down, kissing and licking his way up your body, savoring the taste and smell of desire that exuded off of you. 

He came up so slowly, planting open mouth kisses across your collarbones and neck. Leaving a hot, wet trail behind. His lips smiled at every squirm and whimper that left you, mouth coming to bite and kiss your puffy lips. 

Deep and harsh, you felt his tongue push past and into your mouth. Drool and saliva dripped from the corners, smudging over your cheeks and falling onto your chest. It had you gripping at his shoulders, gasping for breath with every break of your lips. Your cheeks felt so hot, like a fever has come down on you. He parted for a few seconds , breathing in the air you exhaled, before you felt a sharp sting at your bottom lip.

You winced, eyes blinking shut and brows furrowing at the sudden pain. A dullness spread throughout your skin, and suddenly the taste of iron and a thick substance melts into your mouth. Blood. 

Your eyes opened, searching for his own to find him looking right at you. A smirk decorated his lips, blood smeared all over him like it was rouge. The deep crimson color was stark against his skin, shining in the light as you looked at him. The sight made a small sense of panic crawl up your back, pleasure starting to slowly to creep away. 

He seemed to notice, quickly moving back into you

and sucking at the small puncture wound he created. He groaned, hips grinding against your core as he kissed you harder. You could feel his hard throb against your thigh, a small wet patch forming where the head rested. The action made all doubt melt away. 

You shuttered, body going limp in his arms. 

“That’s right,” he slurs against you, “Just let me handle it, yeah?” His voice was soft, almost reassuring as you felt him push away. His hands grabbed at your thighs, strong hands gripping the flesh as he parted them slowly. “Let me take care of you.” 

He slid down your body, lips kissing and mouthing along your skin once more. He left small bites and a faint trail of blood everywhere he touched. You arched into the sensation. He went lower than before, kissing down your stomach onto your pubic bone before he was face to face with your cunt. 

He laid his head between your thighs, hands holding the flesh of where your thigh and ass met in an iron grip. He moaned by simply looking at you. You could feel his burning gaze, closely watching the way your arousal and pleasure dripped out of you. 

You wanted to close your legs shut from embarrassment, a whimper leaving you as you felt his breath on the wetness that coated your folds. You bucked your hips, incoherent pleas and whiny little begs leaving your mouth. 

Your movement only made his grip tighten. His brows furrowed, sending you a glare. 

He tuts, playfully shaking his head and scolding you like a child. “If you can’t wait, I won’t do it at all.” He threatens, voice dripping with lies. God he wanted you. Craved you. He believed that if he went one more second without tasting the sweetness of your cunt he was sure he was going to die. 

“No, please,” You immediately begin to beg, “I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” You stutter over your words, head shaking and eyes glistening with tears as you look down at him. “Please.”

He grins in amusement at the display, watching you squirm beneath him. He took it in, all your desperation and neediness. The way you still slightly bucked your hips into him, your fingers gripping and clawing at the wood beneath you. 

You were right under his thumb. All his.

“Mmn, good girl.” He whispers huskily, softly nodding his head before leaning in to kiss your cunt. It was a small, faint peck. But the touch had your head dipping back with pleasure. 

His hand came around, rubbing two fingers over your lips. He gathered your wetness, smearing the stickiness all over before parting your folds. He spread you open, fingers caressing and exploring the tender skin before dipping down to tease your hole. The feeling had you shivering, a pathetic little whine escaping your throat as you felt his fingers suddenly push inside of you. 

Thick and long, his digits filled you up entirely. Your cunt clenched around them, gushing when he entered you. Your eyes squeezed shut, softs gasps escaping your lips at the feeling. He filled you so sweetly, almost entirely. 

You were so tight. Hole aching and throbbing around him. Heat spread over your body, pleasure filling and taking over every thought and sensation as he touched you. 

You could feel your wetness drip out of you and onto his skin, a light squelching noise coming from between your thighs as he began to thrust in and out of you. Your face went hot, almost going lightheaded from the overwhelming feeling.

Deep and soft, his fingers curled and stretched you out. Loosening you up, pulling you apart and picking you back up again. They touched and prodded at your sweet spot, teasing you like he already knew you from the inside out. 

Your gasps got louder, turning into soft breathy moans. Your hips began chasing his touch, trying to keep up and follow his pace for more.

His mouth latched onto your clit, tongue swirling over the sensitive bud. Sucking and licking at it so softly that each flick sent a chill crawling up your back. You arch, nipples hardening and sweat dripping down your skin as you try so hard not to close your thighs. 

 He lapped at your arousal hungrily, licking up all that flowed out if you like one would to a melting ice cream cone. He moaned into your cunt with each taste. 

He drank it all up, fingers curling and beckoning more of that sweetness out of you. It was like the tastiest honey, dripping and flowing just for him. You were sweeter than any human blood could be, more addictive than any booze or drug. He couldn’t get enough. 

Your fingers ran through his hair, pulling at his locks in a sad attempt to pull him away. But you were too weak, muscles having gone numb the second you felt him suck on your bundle of nerves. He took all your strength, taking it for himself as well as every other thought that filled your head. 

You ended up pulling him closer to you, hand guiding him into a smooth rhythm as he continued to eat you out.  

It almost felt like a dance, the way he loved. He would start off soft and slow, fingers and mouth lapping and thrusting into you like he was the world's sweetest lover. Kissing and touching all your sweet spots, whimpering against your skin like he had wanted nothing else in the world. 

Only to switch it up suddenly. Start sucking so harshly that you could feel the pleasure in your fingertips. Fingers thrusting so fast you could feel yourself spill over his palm, that nasty wet sound getting louder until you were crying from embarrassment. Tears stained your cheeks as you moaned in pleasure with each movement. 

His movements were unpredictable, slowing and speeding whenever he felt like it. He took in every moan and shake of your body, greedily trying to pull out as much as he could. 

It was beginning to feel like too much. The way his hand gripped at your skin, pulling you closer so he could taste you deeper. His nails were digging in so deep you swore you felt the skin puncture, small droplets of blood forming at the tiny tears. 

His mouth and chin were wet, dripping with your desire. He would hardly part from you, only doing so to take in a deep breath and dive back in. He groaned and moaned loudly into your cunt, the vibrations settling deep inside of you. His eyes were closed in bliss, brows furrowed in concentration as he continued his assault. 

Pleasure began to boil over, a burning sensation filling your chest and lower abdomen. Waves lapped at your core, beckoning you to fall apart and let go. You felt your body shake, hips desperately chasing his mouth for relief. 

You clench around his fingers, back arching and fingers pulling at his soft locks in an attempt to keep his mouth on you. You got wetter by the second, hole spasming with each thrust and lick he continued to give you. 

You were so close, loud moans escaping your lips as you inched closer and closer to the edge. You were going to fall, tip over into the sweet abyss of relief, until he pulled away.  

Stopping all motion and movement, he basically forced himself off of you. Fingers slipping out and mouth moving away, he left you high and dry. 

Incoherent mumbles fell from your lips, cries and begs pleading for more tumbled off of your tongue. You chased his touch, hands searching for his face or shoulders but he had already pulled away. 

He sat up, panting like a dog as he stared down at the sight of you. Legs spread wide, body covered in a thin sheet of sweat, lips still bloody from his bite and the trail he left over your skin. He wanted to let you finish, he really did. To taste your release on his tongue, lick it up until the very last drop and hear your sweet little voice pitch and whine for him. But his cock was too hard, aching and dripping with need for you. It twitched in his pants, so close to spilling from the mere act of him tasting you. He couldn’t take it anymore. 

He gulps, settling himself between your legs and laying over your body. His hands touch you once more, groping at your waist and breast before grabbing  your chin. He makes you look at him, eyes half lidded and filled with tears as he kisses you. 

“Need you baby,” He moans into you, lips wandering over your face. From your cheeks, to your temple, and down your chin. You humm, hands grasping at his shoulder until he slips back away. “Need you so bad.” His voice is nothing short of a whimper. Raspy and thick with desire, it sounds like a cry from deep within his chest. 

His hands let you go, rushing to unbuckle his pants. You watch him fumble with the belt, groaning at his shaking hands for not staying still. Excitement fills him the second he's able to actually pull his cock out, sighing in relief when it escapes the confines of his pants. 

It bobs a bit when he pulls it out. Thick and achingly hard, the tip leaks with a stickiness that drips from his head. It's heavy, a soft pink with a nice long viens that starts at the base and makes its way to the very top. He moans when he wraps his hand around himself, stroking the member and spreading his own need over himself. 

He aims it down, dipping the cockhead between your folds. Teasing and rubbing himself full of your wetness, he nudges at your clit. You whimper, closing your eyes as he teases you. He rubs himself all over, fucking your lips and coating every inch with your slick until he finally nudges the head against your hole.

You’re shaking by now. Vision white and blurred as you whimper and whine beneath him. He grabs your hips, holding you tight and steady. Drool drips from the corners of his chin, falling onto your lower belly. He groans, taking in a deep breath before finally inserting himself inside of you. 

It’s filthy, the way both you moan and whimper when you feel each other. His cock stretches you out, the ache of it easing into pleasure as you adjust to his size. Your warmth envelopes him, clenching tightly and he whines at the feeling. You're panting, catching the breath that left your lungs while you feel him all around you. 

He gives you a few more seconds to adjust, before moving his hips. 

Slowly, he moves back and forth. Pushing in and out at a steady pace. His eyes are closed shut, mouth slightly parted as he tries to control himself. His grip is iron on you once more, knuckles white and nails digging in as he holds back. 

He wanted to savour it, take in and absorb every second of this into his memory. Your breathy little moans, the way his cock throbs inside of you, the way your back arches and head tilts back. You felt like heaven, sunlight, and every other divine feeling that had been out of his reach for hundreds of years. 

He leans in closer, chest pressing against yours as he thrust in deeper. Filling you up to the hilt, his cock reaching a place you didn't even know a man could touch. 

You feel him in your stomach, the weight of him inside of you. The way the tip kissed your cervix and nudged at your sweet spot each time he moved had your eyes rolling into the sockets. Every movement he made was like he was plucking at the strings of your nerves, already raw and overstimulated. 

Your hands claw at his back, leaving tender scratches across his skin. Your legs wrap themselves around his waist, pulling him in deeper. Your skin is pressed against his. Chest to chest and he covers your body like a blanket. Placing all his weight over you and trapping you underneath him. 

He moans like a bitch in heat from just being inside of you. Louder than you have been the whole night, his body so sensitive and overwhelmed from just feeling your heat. 

He pulls his hips back, leaving just his tip inside before gradually filling you back up. His cock is thick, leaving you feeling like he’s splitting you in half with each thrust. 

Your arousal coats both of you, a loud squelching sound coming from where the two of you meet. It's everywhere, coating the inside of your thighs and his own. You even feel it drip down your ass. Utter embarrassment fills you at the way he slides in so easily, body showing just how much it wants him. 

You can feel your cunt clenching around his cock. Keeping him close and not wanting to let him go. 

You lift your hips to meet his, following where his length went to keep him inside no matter what. 

“Yeah, darlin, just like that.” He mewls when he feels you start to move with him. He lets out a sigh from deep within his chest, the rumble of it makes you gasp. You could feel it inside of you, everywhere and all around. 

You lips meet his, kissing desperately and messily as he keeps fucking into you. 

His pace begins to grow faster, needier. Hips starting to slam into you. His balls slap against your ass, heavy and full of cum with each brutal thrust. You're both moaning into each others mouths, 

He groans into your skin, breathing your scent in. 

“So good, f-fuck- dreamt of this pussy baby.” He whines, licking up your cheek and down your neck. 

“She’s grippin me real tight, knows who she belongs to.” He’s hardly moving his hips anymore. Just desperately humping and grinding into your cunt— not wanting to part from your wet warmth. 

Your head is tilted back in pleasure, exposing the long expanse of your neck and collarbones. You looked so beautiful beneath him. The way you writhed and whimpered in his hold. Eyes all teary and looking up at him with need. 

“Mnh, You and I gon’ be together forever, right darlin?” He whimpers into your skin, sucking a love bite into a pulse point at the side of your neck. It makes your body bolt, frantically nodding your head and whispering little “yes”es out like a prayer. 

“Yeah, just like we was meant to be.” He kisses lower down, passing and licking at your collarbones before coming to the junction where your shoulder and neck met. 

He had seen it the second he walked up to you,  the scar.

It was only a small mark, healed and lighter than the rest of your body. It had a wrinkly texture, looking a bit mangled from the way your flesh melded itself back together. It was in the shape of an oval, faint little holes circling it that made it look like someone tried to chew and rip the skin off. The way an apple looks when you bite it. Clear punctures of teeth. 

The scar from when he bit you. 

“Really left my mark on you, didn’t I?” He hums against the skin, kissing it so tenderly you almost didn’t feel it with the way he was fucking you. 

In more ways than one, you wanted to reply. But your mouth was dry, throat hoarse from the moans he kept dragging out of you. You wanted to run your fingers through his hair, kiss his forehead, and pull him even closer to you until your bodies basically melted together. But all strength left you. Gone along with your mind, solely focused on the way he touched and made you feel. 

So you said nothing, did nothing, but let out a high pitched cry when you felt him bite you. 

Sharp teeth tore through your flesh, opening the scar anew. You could feel him groan in delight, cock twitching inside of you as he started to suck your blood. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, pure bliss on his tongue as he tasted you. 

It awoke a primal urge inside of him, taking over his very mind and controlling his body. You were his, and he needed the world to know that. To mark you up and claim you as his in any way possible. He grew harder at the thought, pounding your poor pussy faster and biting you harder. 

Pain ran through your body, teeth grinding and hissing at the sensation that spread throughout your shoulder. You wanted to shout, tears falling from the corners of your eyes at the overwhelming sensations that took hold of you. 

Blood spurt from your neck, dripping down onto your breasts over your body. You could feel the burning heat of it flowing across your skin. The thick liquid went down to where your body met his, chests covered in the sticky crimson as he continued to eat away at you. 

His mouth was stuck on the wound, lips wrapped and suctioning around it as he drank up all that he could. His chin was covered with you, licking at your shoulder the same way he had your cunt. 

His cock dragged itself over your sweet spots, nudging and fucking your walls with a passion so intense it had you seeing stars. You could feel your body betray you, cunt clenching and fluttering around him so tightly like it was scared to let him go. 

The mixture of pain and pleasure soon started melting together, leaving only a euphoric sensation humming throughout your body. The ache of your shoulder began to dull, fading into a numbness that left every other feeling heightened. 

It shouldn’t have felt this good. The way he kept rutting into you, sucking and fucking you over a ledge and into oblivion.

His hips were flush against your, the thick hairs above the base of his length brushing and stimulating your clit. 

His mouth leaves your neck, blood dripping down his chin as he goes to kiss you. Red paints your lips, and you can taste the bitter iron of it all over. You whine, feeling him whimper and suck at your tongue. It's all messy, filthy, and so disgustingly erotic than anything else you’ve ever experienced. 

You can feel the knot of your stomach begin to tighten once more, walls fluttering around his length. You flutter around him, wetness dripping out to coat both of you and the obscene sound of it has your head spinning. 

He feels your release ready to take over you and he fastens his pace slightly. A needy little whine escapes your throat, breath catching.

“Hah- Need you, baby.” He moans into your mouth, hands gripping your shoulder to keep you in one place. “Need you so bad.” He’s close too, hips rutting desperately into you, balls tightening and threatening to spill. 

“Say you need me too.” He almost cries, movements beginning to stutter.  He’s begging for it, repeating the words into your skin over and over. Like if you said it it meant this was real. You felt so good, too good— he thought that he finally reached heaven. 

“Need you, need you.” You breathlessly managed to gasp, fingers clawing at the tender skin of his back. 

With one harsh thrust, you feel yourself falling over the edge. Waves of pleasure envelope you, drowning until white blurs your vision. Your body shakes, going numb at the feeling of his own spend filling you up. 

He lets out a wanton moan, finally cumming deep inside of you. His hips continue to rutt into you, working through both of your orgasms as he empties his balls into you. His body collapses over yours, his weight crushing you as he groans and bottoms out. 

You can feel it start to drip out of you, a white ringlet forming around his base as he finally slows his relentless pace. It's thick and needy, like he deprived himself of release for so long until he was able to give it to you. You gush all over him, walls fluttering and taking all that he gave you. 

Emotions rush through you as you come down. Delight and bliss, relief and happiness fill your chest. You’re breathing so heavily, mind and body becoming exhausted from the way he took you. You could feel yourself growing tired, the rush of adrenaline passing over. 

In its place, a strange cold began to set in. Your fingertips and toes turned numb. It pulled at your mind, whisking away all strength and energy. Your eyes grew heavy, threatening to shut. 

The familiar song of sleep called to you. Lulling you in with her sweet melody. 

You wanted nothing more than to succumb to the darkness. Wrap yourself in its embrace and not feel anything else. And you were going to. So close to falling over and closing your eyes.

But then you felt his hand come to your cheek.

Warm, wet, and sticky. It brought you back to life. 

You suddenly became aware of your blood on your skin, already beginning to dry and crust along your skin. It covered you like a thin layer of sweat, painting you red. You could feel the wound of your shoulder ache, throbbing softly as it slowly stopped bleeding. 

Right. He had bitten you. Ripped and tore your flesh with his teeth, marking you as his own. 

You were dying. 

His fingers grabbed at your chin, softly turning your head to his. His eyes glowed faintly, a deep red piercing into the veil of your soul. You were already naked. Body and soul having been torn apart and stripped to your very core by his own hands– yet his gaze had you feeling embarrassed. It felt so intimate, full of a love you’ve never seen before. Your heart ached at the feeling. 

“Fallin’ asleep?” He asks in a whisper, soft smile flashing his sharp teeth. They were full of blood, the pearly whites now a deep crimson. 

You nod lightly, eyes blurry as you look up at him.

From this angle, he looked like something heavenly. Moonlight covered his skin, surrounding him in a faint glow. The lamp above your door gave off a ringlet of warm light, his head centered around it in a way that made it look like a crown. Your blood covered his mouth and chest, all messy and filthy. A glimpse into the ravenous beast he truly was. 

The sight should be terrifying, have you crying and saying your prayers. But all you could think of was how beautiful he looked. Unearthly. Your angel of death. 

Your weak response made him chuckle, leaning down to plant a kiss on your cheek. 

The cold you had felt started to settle into your bones, making you shiver in the summer heat.

His lips wandered to yours, kissing you with a softness that almost hurt. 

“Am I dying?” You croak out. Your voice was quiet, so low and hoarse you weren’t even sure you said the words. It was a silly question, one you already knew the answer to. But asking made you feel better for some reason. Made it feel real. 

He parted from you, eyes softening and brows furrowing with concern. His hand moved to your forehead, wiping away the hair and sweat that had stuck to your skin. The feeling brought you comfort, you leaned into his touch. 

“It’s only for a bit. You’ll be with me before you know it.” His response is sweet. Holding no trace of malice or lies. 

Be with me, the words echoed throughout your head. 

What was left of your mind struggled to understand the words, unsure of what being with him meant. Until it all hit you at once.  

Oh, so this is what it felt like. 

The feeling you had been running from since the day you met him. The feeling you were always told to be terrified of as a girl. The feeling you now embrace and longed for, finally come to you. 

You can’t help but to think of the despair and sadness that lead you to this moment. From your parents' absent love to your struggling faith. You wondered if this was always how it was meant to happen. 

Was this truly the very thing you were destined for? 

“I used to be so lonely,” You start to think aloud, “I would beg God to send someone who loved me.” Your voice is frail, shaking and thin. “ I’d look for him everywhere, trying to find a sign he was listening, but I never found one.” Your own bloodied hand comes to touch his cheek, fingertips leaving a red mark beneath his cheekbone. 

“I stopped believing in him for a long time after that.”  

You can feel your mind slipping, the hand that touched him falling away back into your lap. Your mind grasped at your fading soul, but it was too weak to hold on.

“But now,  I realize he’s real. He has to be,” Small tears fall from your eyes. “He sent you to me. You were his plan all along.” Your words were dripping with hope. The belief of a girl who had nothing but her faith, coming back up and out of you like a confession. 

“Nah, ain’t no God, baby.” He replies, voice so soft and gentle. Speaking to you like how one would a weeping child. “It’s just me.”

His hand grip your hips, holding you steady as he slowly pulls away, slipping his softened cock out. The feeling has you both wincing. Sadness fills your chest at the seperation, scared that he’ll leave you alone if you weren’t feeling him. 

As if he knew, he leans back in immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling you close. His strong arms pull you up, body already half limp as he fixes you tightly against his chest. He holds you in a half hug, almost like how a bride is carried down the aisle. 

You watch his every move, awe and love filling your now faintly beating heart. You’ve never felt so warm, so loved and cherished. 

“I don’t even know your name…” You rasp out, eyes finally start to close for good. 

Your head falls, strength leaving you at last. Your mind is drifting off, heartbeat slowing by the second. 

You can’t feel anything but him now. His faint warmth seeped into you, being your small tether to the world still around you. 

You don’t even care if you wake up after this or not. At the moment, you’re just happy to have him there. To have been loved and taken by a man who made you feel like he truly loved you. Right now, that was all that mattered.  

The last of your consciousness fades, letting go of your final breath as hear him reply. 

“Remmick. It’s Remmick, darlin’.” 

His name is like a song. The way he says it like a melody. The southern drawl of his voice is gone and replaced with something so old and distant, you’re sure you must’ve known it in another life. Something so beautiful that you’re upset you even forgot about it. 

You use the very last of your strength to smile, finally falling into that deep and familiar sleep you would always come back to. 

You were always told to fear death. To cower at the very thought and run whenever it was mentioned. Foreign and horrific, everyone described. They never told the truth. How could they, they never knew it for themselves. And if they did, all they would do is talk about how sweet it truly was. 

You wake not long after. With him still holding you in his arms.  

He denies it, but swore you saw tears fall from his eyes as soon as you opened yours. 

No longer lonely, now loved and cared for, you raised your head up to give him kiss. Thanking him for finally giving you a home, a place to belong.

Thank you for reading </3!! Comments and reblogs are v much appreciated! If you have any insights please leave them kindly!!

a/n: i lowkey fear it kinda fell apart at the end, but we still ballin 😗✌️I hope the story and smut were good, im proud of myself for finally finishing something (FOR ONCE LOL)

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

omg congrats for 5k doll! i wanted to slide in and see if i could have a protective!bf Gaz written since my baby is so underappreciated??? i saw this tweet about the scene in mw where gaz's disabling a bomb and is unable to and price throws the guy off the balcony, but this time the bomb in strapped to his love and he's and he's struggling and sees price out of the corner of his eye and remembers what happens last time and panicks and goes all 'you won't do that to her'. just a thought, love all your work!

—Don't Look At Her

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [The bomb starts ticking down, rapidly firing to zero. Gaz won't let Price near you. Not after he'd remembered the Captain's actions when they'd first met.] ❞

"Gaz," your voice wavers, watching the rapidly working man and seeing his darting eyes—lit with panicked fervor. He doesn't answer, so you speak again. "Gaz!"

"No!" He barks, brown eyes instantly meeting yours. Lips pull in a right frown; there's a glint in his gaze that you'd never seen before—not in the many years you'd known him. Kyle's firm hands don't leave the wiring attached to your chest. The vest.

The bomb.

"No, Love," he grates out, immediately getting back to work as you try to keep your tears at bay, body jerking back and forth as your boyfriend pulls at the straps and bits. "Don't even say anything. You're going to fucking fine, you hear? It's going to be okay."

It was the product of bad intel, really. You'd been sent in without the proper know-how, leading to a scuffle where the butt of a gun had been slammed into your temple. When your eyes opened again, it was already too late.

Kneeling in the middle of a large office building, the glass of the windows shattered behind you, and the wind whips the back of your skull aggressively, you stare down at Gaz. Trying to form words on a tongue that won't cooperate.

"You need to run," you whisper out, resigning yourself as the rapid beeping increases. Your heart moves so fast you can't feel the skin of your chest anymore. "Kyle," pleading, you watch his jaw clench something fierce. "Listen to me—!"

"I'm not leaving you!" A sharp snap of a metal piece hits your ears, the piece of the vest clattering to the ground in a violent display of desperation. Gaz glances back up at you stubbornly; as if uncaring about the impending incineration only minutes away. "So you stop bloody talking like that, yeah? I'm not just giving up!"

The sides of your eyes dribble out rabid tears, lungs a mess of air and inhales that can't even be considered breathing anymore by how wheezy they sound.

How would it feel? Exploding into a patchwork of blood and fire—instantaneous, sure, but feeling Kyle's heat and his puffs of air; his fear, you can't imagine him dying like that. Not him.

"Look at me," Gaz pants, fingers pulling at cords in search of the one he needed to cut—unable to pinpoint it through the hack-job that had been done to your vest.

There was every color under the sun except fucking yellow. His teeth clench so tight they hurt his jaw, but he sends you quick glances as you shakily do as he says.

Brown eyes soften, and while the both of your hands shake, for a second there's a relief at the eye-contact. "Repeat it, Love."

You lick your lips and stammer, "y-you're not leaving."

Lips press firmly into yours, and you clench your eyes tight at the sensation, tiny sob breaking the contact.

"That's right." Gaz growls. "Not on my life."

Rapid footsteps race into the room, but before the Sergeant can reach for his weapon, the familiar call from the Captain echoes out.

"Friendly!" It's as if Gaz doesn't even register, still digging and fearfully looking at the timer.

50 seconds. 49. 48. 47...

"Sergeant," Price jogs over. You can barely find the inner strength to look up at him. "Sitrep."

Blue eyes dart from the vest to you and the Captain's serious face goes grim. His expression flashes with the inner workings of his mind, eyes narrowing and a grunt stuck under his lips.

"I have it," Gaz speaks quickly, and the words strike you as odd, though you don't comment. Price slid him a sharp look.

"Gaz—"

"Don't even look at her." Snarling like an animal, brown orbs are volatile enough to rend stone in two as they meet the older man's. You and John are rendered speechless, sharing a swift glance in shock like teenagers hearing their parents swear for the first time.

Kyle's eyes are wild, sweat slicking his brow. "Come fucking on!" He yells and your body is snapped forward as Gaz pries on the straps, having to steady yourself on the man's shoulders for support. Every muscle in his body is taunt; shaking with force.

Perhaps it was the memory that invaded his brain like a parasite that had made him snap at his superior like that—a stab to his fine tissue that digs all the way down his rail-straight spine.

Piccadilly Circus. Tanto building. Hostage with an explosive vest.

Kyle's fingers bleed as they peel back rough velcro, having ripped off his gloves to be nearer to you.

It all flashes past his mind in horrible increments, the past, but instead of a man—the hostage is you. And Price was burning his neck with a harsh stare once more.

He's going to throw her out the window, Kyle panics and you watch with the deadly realization of the situation. No. No, I won't let him. Not her.

"Garrick," Price says, voice deep. But he doesn't move. "You need to get your head back on."

"I've got it screwed on just right, Captain." Gaz grunts. "Trust me."

12 seconds. 11. 10. 9...

You stare at Gaz and memorize the make of his handsome face—the dates and the late nights speaking about the future sticking to your skin like leeches; sucking away every instance of love and happiness. His laugh. His brown eyes.

His smile.

Oh, you want to see your Love smile.

"Sergeant!" Price yells, moving forward to grapple onto Kyle's shoulder. "It's going off!"

Your boyfriend rips out of his hold, fists clenched and screaming.

"Get the fuck off of me! I can save her!" Your back hits the ground with a slap and a ragged gasp from your lips, the Brit straddling your hips in a desperate play to deactivate the bomb.

"Kyle," you look up at him, pleading. "You have to take cover, it's...it's okay. I love you, I need you to know that—"

"Bloody shut," eyes spark, locking on the bright color under the front of the vest. Gaz snaps a hand under the material and rips at it in a ruthless wrench of his arm. 2 seconds. There's a deafening snap of wire. "Up!"

The beeping stops and the world stills.

Your wide eyes can't stop crying as you stare up into brown eyes with astonishment; struggling to breathe. You can't tell if the building is vibrating or only you, but nothing seems to be able to focus as a wave crashes down on you; adrenaline still striking you.

Everything rings inside of your ears, pounding in your head.

Hands grasp the base of your jaw and lips descend to yours, tears slapping your skin from above in a wave of feral agony. Gaz stifles his sob on your mouth as you shake wildly, panting over your flesh.

Price gives off a large sigh from behind, standing straighter and turning his head.

Gaz's forehead connects with yours, but there are no words to be said—just the silent gazing and lingering fear of death. He won't let go of your cheeks, and, quivering, you go to grasp tightly at the sides of his arms.

With a shuddering breath, he closes his eyes and sags into you.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[heartsandstars46]

Band-Aids

bf tasm!Peter x fem reader

Mostly fluff, some angst (anxiety)

Word count: ~500

Peter takes care of you when you’re feeling anxious. Includes reading to you, holding hands, and bandaging a minor injury. 🫶

“Would you stop it?”

“What?”

A web shot out and stopped your hands from fiddling. You rolled your eyes. “Really, sir? That’s just not fair.”

“I can’t sit here and watch you pace and anxiety-pick your skin. You can only have one—and it's pacing."

“Geez, I don’t even get a vote?”

“No, not when you’re causing yourself pain.”

You sighed. “Not a lot of pain, though.”

“I’m trying to prevent any pain I can.”

“Well, you’re too late—I already drew blood.”

Peter motioned you over to the bed where you thought he'd been watching something on his laptop. In reality, he must have been watching you pace back and forth. It had been a “free-floating anxiety” kind of week for you. Little sleep. Generally feeling like a shaken-up soda bottle—not because you were going to explode, but because the anxiety left you kind of vibrating internally.

Peter took your hands in his and gently unwound the webbing.

“Where?” 

You pouted, holding up your left thumb. By obsessively picking at your cuticle, you’d drawn a tiny bit of blood. 

“Oh, I see. All right, I’ll get the Band-Aids. But only if you get into bed. You lay down, and I’ll bring the dressing to you.”

“‘Dressing’ sounds very dramatic. I’m not exactly on the battlefield here.”

He hesitated in the doorway. “Aren’t you?” His eyes were earnest and sympathetic. Maybe he had a point. You were battling—just not a person. Or anything anybody could see.

You went and got into bed, and Peter soon joined you with the box of Band-Aids.

“Ta-da! Okay, let me see your thumb.”

As he wrapped your tiny wound, you yawned. He looked at you, wide-eyed. “Oh my goodness. Might she finally be able to sleep?”

“Shush! Don’t jinx it!” But you could almost giggle now. And exhaustion was finally starting to settle heavily over you. “Thank you for this,” you added, giving him a thumbs-up with your freshly bandaged thumb.

He kissed it. “All better.”

“Yeah, I wish.”

“I know,” he murmured, kissing you on the forehead. “Why don’t you try sleeping now?”

“Yeah, I guess I am healed after all.” With a sigh, you stretched out and adjusted the pillow behind your head. Peter started preparing himself to go to bed.

“Wait!”

He turned and then shook his head with a knowing little smirk. “You want me to read to you, don’t you?” 

“Only always,” you yawned as he scanned the room for reading material.

“Come on, you’re already yawning. I don’t want to miss this window!”

You realized the Band-Aid box had kind of gotten tucked in with you and you handed it to him. “Here, just read this.“

“I guess I’m lucky it’s not War and Peace.”

You smiled, snuggling down and taking hold of Peter’s free hand.

“All right.” He picked up the Band-Aid box and peered over it very seriously. “For medical emergencies… seek professional help.”

“Don’t worry, I have therapy next week.”

He chuckled. “QUILT-AID Comfort Pad Designed to cushion painful wounds while you heal.”

“Amen,” you murmured, squeezing his hand as your eyes fluttered closed.

“Heals the hurt faster.” His voice was soft and sweet, like a lullaby.

[blitzyn]

prospect

toji fushiguro x m!reader

request: none

a/n -> sighs and explodes i need this man injected in my blood right NOW. nobody will be able to convince me that this man doesn’t have a breeding kink. sometimes i forget im writing for real people on a real platform and it jump scares me when people comment on my work. but in a good way ofc i love seeing people’s thoughts on my stuff. ANYWAYS. REQS.

wc -> 4.7k words of filth LMAO

cw -> anal fingering, anal sex, spit as lube, throat fucking, using “pussy” and “cunt” as a synonym, mild impact play, breeding kink, mirror sex, finger hooking, bondage, begging, brief gun play, when i say “little” i mean that in a condescending sorta way and not bc the reader is described to be petite and tiny, not beta read obv

"You're a tricky one, I'll give you that," is the first thing the man before you said. It'd been quite a while since the first time the two of you met in a dingy bar hidden in the sketchier parts of town. He hadn't been trying to kill you then - he was but a fellow patron eager to ruin his liver. Originally, he had a strange gut feeling about you. Like a pretty thing like you wasn't all it seemed, but he shrugged it off after a well-placed look from you offering to buy a couple more rounds.

So when he's given another job, the first thing he does is laugh. He didn't really mean it at first, but really, the irony was hilarious. The guy he nearly got to fuck was his current target: [Name] [L.Name], a rising Jujutsu Sorcerer. He obviously wasn't as strong as the esteemed Gojo Satoru or Geto Suguru, but he was advancing a little faster than many would've liked.

"Thanks. I tried," you replied, seeming much too relaxed for a man about to be assassinated. You were currently stuck on the floor with your arms tied behind your back and your legs bound together by plain, old, ordinary rope. You were a little embarrassed, truthfully, to have been caught by such a mundane trap like this.

You struggled against your restraints a bit, sighing in defeat when you only served to remind yourself just how stuck you were. "These are pretty secure," you started, giving the man before you a laidback smirk. "You experienced?"

Toji gave you a quizzical look for a moment before breaking out in an amused grin, resting his handgun against his shoulder. He definitely wasn't expecting his target to start flirting with him instead of pleading for his life like he was used to. But he'll entertain you for a while. "You could say that."

You huffed through your nose, your eyes lazily flitting around the room. You were making your way back inside the abandoned building you chose to hide in when you suddenly found yourself tied up. It took you a moment to realize you couldn't move when he appeared in front of you, but even less to recognize him as the man you almost got to sleep with. "I would've loved to have you tie me up back then, but this wasn't really what I was thinking about."

"Your phone's a real cockblock, huh?" He chuckled lightly, in an almost mocking manner from what you managed to detect in his voice. "Can't even begin to imagine how long you've had to go without gettin' laid."

You rolled your eyes like he wasn't only there to kill you and get his money. "Don't get me started. There's always something new I have to kill every fuckin' second. My boss thinks it's great training to go out whenever I can."

Right. Technically, you weren't a fully-fledged Sorcerer. You had more of a vigilante-esque vibe to you. You hadn't attended either Jujutsu High School in Tokyo or Kyoto as well, only taught by your family and experiences. Not that that really mattered anyway. You fought, you got strong, and now someone put a hit on you.

You sighed, shifting your body to a more comfortable position before tilting your head back against the wall. “This is the part where I beg for my life, right?” You questioned rhetorically, with an almost bored expression on your face before your eyes lit up with an idea. “I’m not too good at that, but I am good at begging for something else.”

Toji raised an eyebrow in intrigue, unable to fight off the grin at the obvious implication. He didn’t stop you from shamelessly checking him out, but he cut your ogle session short regardless.

“Yeah? Care to elaborate?” He made his way closer, crouching in front of you to get a better view of your face. He knew what you were asking for. He just wanted to know if you’d follow through with it.

Maybe it was the adrenaline making you bold, knowing that he could easily kill you with the pull of a trigger—or maybe it was just because he was really fucking hot. With a quick, obvious glance to his crotch (you could see the imprint of his dick through his sweatpants), you spoke clearly. “I want you to fuck me.”

He liked how forward you were, how unafraid you were to say what you wanted. He swiped his tongue over his lips and nearly laughed at how your eyes darted downwards to watch it. “You call that beggin’?” He taunted, raising his arm to press the tip of his gun against your chin to tilt your head up. “Do it right.”

A shudder ran through your body at his demand, leaving a trail of heat that settled right into your groin. You felt hyper aware of everything—of the cool metal on your skin, of the faint gunpowder scent emanating from the barrel, of your heartbeat thrumming so hard you briefly wondered if he could hear it.

“Oh, please, Mr. Fushiguro,” you whined, staring up at him through your lashes pleadingly. You tried to squeeze your thighs together as you squirmed, attempting to provide your hardening dick friction. “Please fuck me. I’ve been thinking about this whole time. I need it so much.”

“Well, aren’t you a confident little thing,” he remarked with a thoughtful hum, carefully inspecting your reactions. “But what makes you think I won’t just kill you and get my money?”

“Because you haven’t yet,” you replied with a smug undertone in your voice, like you figured him all out. Although, when he dragged his gun up towards your lips, a brief wave of fear washed down your body, settling deep in your chest.

“Really? That’s all you’re going off of?” He tilted his head, watching you through the dark curtain of hair that fell over his piercing eyes. “That’s cute.” He held his finger over the trigger, teasingly flexing it before relaxing just as fast. He found it funny how your confident facade slipped away the moment you remembered that you weren’t talking to a casual friend—that the Sorcerer Killer himself was staring you down the barrel of his gun. But, apparently, that’s what got you all hot and bothered.

“I didn’t think you’d be this desperate.” His scarred lips curled upwards in a predatory grin as he nudged the tip of his gun against your mouth, prying it open. You fought the urge to squirm when he pushed it further, jaw straining, but you tried your best to comply. “You seemed all mysterious ‘n’ unassuming back at the bar. What happened to that? Got me feelin’ like I got the wrong person with the way you’re actin’.”

You tried to shake your head while a garbled noise left your throat, but he kept you firmly in place as he pushed it as far as he could go. Even as you squinted, it was hard not to practically eyefuck him where you sat. Your watery irises trailed over the length of his arm, tracing the bulging veins that patterned over his forearm, dipping back underneath his skin before reappearing in his thick bicep. His shirt did little to hide his chest, squeezing in just the right places to render any woman jealous.

You couldn’t stop your gaze from wandering down, down towards his legs, zeroing in on the dick print he so obviously flaunted like a trophy. Your mouth watered, suddenly finding it hard to swallow. You slid your tongue over the rough metal, imagining that it was his cock stretching your eager throat wide open; imagining the salty taste of his precum, of the scent of his musk, of—

“My eyes’re up here, pretty boy,” he interrupted, pressing the gun up against your palate to snap you out of your stupor and avert your gaze. “If you’re gonna deny bein’ a slut, at least act like it.”

He pulled it out of your drooling mouth, wiping the string of saliva off on your cheek before setting it on the floor with a dull thud. Your face was messy, chest heaving up and down as you panted, expectantly waiting for him to continue like a lost puppy.

“You’re so damn easy,” he commented teasingly, reaching down to palm his cock through his pants. It throbbed under his touch, leaking precum and straining against the fabric. “If I’da known all it took for you to get all nice ‘n’ compliant f’me was a dick down your throat, I’d have my money by now.” There was a hint of honesty to his voice that you couldn’t even find in yourself to protest.

“Please…” you breathlessly whined, trying to writhe out of your binds, but it was tied too tightly around your body to free yourself. “I want it. Stop messing with me.”

“I know.” He reached down to shift you onto your knees, steadying you with a firm hand on the back of your neck. You watched him slide his free hand under his pants to pull his thick cock out, eyes fixated on the leaking tip. He wrapped it around the shaft and leisurely jerked himself off, the wet sounds of his precum sliding along the shaft mixing in with your labored breaths and his quiet groans.

Finally, after what felt like decades, he shuffled forward just enough to press himself against your lips, finding little need to nudge his way inside when you so eagerly parted them for him. You let out a pleased noise at the taste of his precum, beginning to squint and fight the urge to gag when he refused to stop until your nose was buried in his pubes. He held you there for a moment, enjoying the sight of your throat bulging to accommodate his cock.

“You’re takin’ me in so easily,” he purred, sighing in satisfaction at the feeling of your tongue tracing over a prominent vein, making him twitch in your mouth. “Is this what you do? Use your body to live a little longer? 'Cause I gotta say, whatever you're doin' is really payin' off."

You visibly preened at his praise, feeling your dick strain against the fabric of your pants. He let you move at your own pace, watching you hollow your cheeks and slide and bob your head up and down. He was thick and long and made your jaw ache in the best way, utterly infatuated with his scent, with his taste, with the way he let you go at your own pace—but you knew better. You knew that he could easily take that control away from you and fuck your face.

You kind of wished he did, honestly.

With a bit of effort, you pulled away from his cock, breathing heavily. Your voice was shaky but it was firm, determined to get what you wanted. “Fuck my throat,” you demanded, staring up at him through your lashes. He gave you an intrigued smile, clearly pleased with your eagerness to be used like a toy.

“You sure? ‘Cause I’m not stoppin’ til I cum,” he warned. He hardly gave you enough time to reply before he held the base of his cock, gently tapping the tip against your slick lips to get you to open up wide again, obviously unconcerned with your response. “But if you really insist, then who am I to say no to a pretty thing like you?”

He adjusted his stance, towering over you with both his hands atop your head. He allowed you to take a deep breath before pulling you to him just as he shoved his cock back down your throat. You were still unused to him, nearly choking at the sudden movement, feeling tears pool along your lashes. You could’ve sworn his musk was an actual aphrodisiac. It was all you could smell, filling up your nostrils to render your mind a pathetically fuzzy mess.

“Thaaaat’s it,” he drawled out, staring you down with enough heat in his eyes to practically glue you to the floor. You weren’t even sure if you’d get up and leave if he gave you the chance to. Probably not, frankly. Not with the way his strong hands so easily kept you in place, nor with how he strained your jaw—infatuated with every inch and vein and his salty precum. “Take it all, baby.”

He chuckled to himself, not bothering to hide the condescension in his voice. “But I didn’t need to tell you that, huh? Is this muscle memory takin’ over?” Despite his words, his brows were furrowed, focused on thrusting his hips, stoking the rising fire in his abdomen. His rhythmic groans were music to your ears, mixing in with your wet gags and the faint sound of his balls slapping your chin.

“Fuck,” he panted, taking one hand off to wipe your hair off of your forehead and get a look at your watery, unfocused eyes. It sent a heat down his spine that made his cock jolt at the sight of your blissed out face. “You’re so damn tight… gonna make me cum.”

“Is that what you want?” He grunted, digging his fingertips into your skin. “Y’think it’s what you deserve?” For a moment, you were worried he was going to stop. But he didn’t really, instead he kept you still, holding you at a distance to make sure you didn’t accidentally pass out. “I wanna hear you beg for it.”

You blinked your tears away and looked up at him, squinting, confused when he hadn’t let you go yet. It took you a second to piece together what he wanted of you, and felt the burn of embarrassment trickle down your spine and settle into your chest when you did. He wanted you to beg with his cock in your mouth. You were quiet, unsure how to respond without choking and coughing into next week.

“C’mon,” he persisted, his scarred lips lifting in a grin. “I know a little slut like you can do it.”

With a deep breath, you attempted to get your words out through muffled sounds that very vaguely sounded like sentences. It was humiliating—letting him use you to entertain himself like this, but it was an exhilarating feeling that made your cock twitch and throb, aching to be touched.

“Sorry, what was that?” He questioned mockingly, expression laced with faux concern. “Do you mind repeating that?”

You paused, staring up at him pleadingly, but when that didn’t seem to work, you tried again. Drool seeped out the corners of your lips, trailing down your chin. It was hard to breathe and form coherent thoughts. Your cock throbbed and ached to be touched, finding your pants to be uncomfortably suffocating.

“Was that so hard?” He questioned rhetorically as he tugged your face close again, savoring the feeling of your throat squeezing around his dick before beginning to fuck it. He groaned when he felt you run your tongue over the veins, the vibrations of your voice sending heat through his body that he eagerly chased.

He swore under his breath, panting, focused on the tightening coil in his abdomen. “Shit—I’m about to—fuck—cum.”

You moaned when you felt him still, pressing your face into his pelvis to make sure every drop of his cum went down your throat. It was difficult to swallow, letting your eyes flutter shut until he was finished. Your vision was a bit blurry when he finally decided to pull away, leaving you gasping and panting.

“I want—I need you to fuck me,” you slurred, desire flashing brightly in your eyes. Your voice was raw and hoarse and raspy, but there was no hiding your desperation. “Please. I need it so bad it fucking hurts. Please, Fushiguro.”

“I just got done cumming down your throat and you’re already askin’ for more?” He chuckled condescendingly, reaching out to swipe the pad of his thumb along your chin to gather the mix of saliva cum. He brought it to your lips, watching you wrap them around his finger and suck the fluids off his skin. “You needy whore. You’re lucky I’m not in any rush right now.”

With a swift hand, he untied the rope holding your legs together to lead you to a different spot, confident that you wouldn’t make a break for it. Not that you could nor wanted to, anyways.

The mirror before you was dusty and cracked, but it still served its purpose well. He kicked your legs apart and brought you back down to your knees, lowering himself behind you with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You nearly came on the spot when he squeezed your aching cock, hips jerking needily, but he let go in the blink of an eye to unzip your pants and bring them down far enough to expose your ass. He brought two fingers to your lips and dipped them inside your mouth with his other hand, coating them with your saliva rather haphazardly.

He swiftly brought them back down, running them over your balls and perineum teasingly, grinning at your sharp intake of breath. He slid the pads of them over your hole, just barely pushing them through to feel the resistance give way before pulling them back out.

“I swear to god, I’ll—“ you tried to threaten, only to be cut off by a whorish moan that Toji managed to tear from your lips when he shoved his fingers inside you. They pressed against your prostate, firm and unrelenting, rubbing it just the slightest bit to keep you reeling. The sudden stretch fucking burned as you clamped down on him like a vice, wincing and groaning.

“You’ll what?” He urged, eyes fixated on your face, watching every single muscle twitch, noticing the way your cock spurt a fresh stream of precum down the throbbing shaft. “C’mon, don’t get all shy on me now. What were you saying?”

He thrust his fingers in and out slowly, emphasizing the wet squelching sounds of your asshole. You could feel his breaths brushing against your heated skin, sending shivers up and down your spine that ended in your fingertips. Your knees ached and your arms were growing numb from being tied back for so long but you figured you could ignore it for a little while longer if it meant you’d get what you wanted. His dick, namely.

“I’ll—agh, fuck—I’ll…” you trailed off, hardly able to form a coherent sentence with the way he massaged your prostate so perfectly. “Just… just shut up,” you muttered finally, breathless and unfocused as you stared at the spot you connected from the reflection in the old mirror. A subtle feeling of embarrassment settled in your heaving chest when you heard the raspy sound of his chuckle.

“Is that it?” He taunted, locking eyes with you. His free hand slid upwards, teasing your nipples through your shirt to watch you squirm. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight. I’m startin’ to question whether or not you’re really some hotshot Sorcerer.”

It was hard to refute him when you looked the way you did—all messy and disheveled and desperate, hard for the man supposed to kill you. You were completely unlike yourself hardly half an hour ago, but you barely gave a shit. How could you when the hottest man you’ve ever seen was behind you, fingerfucking your eager hole? Chances like these don’t come often to you, that’s for sure.

You shivered and moaned, leaning back against his chest. Your hips practically moved on their own accord, thighs flexing to keep yourself upright as you tried to fuck yourself on his thick digits. Toji could see the way your eyes unfocused and glossed over with understimulated tears, frustrated and horribly pent-up.

He gave your prostate a quick jab, firm enough to intensify the heated coil in your belly, but too fast to savor. He wasn’t planning on giving in to you so easily as he avoided your sensitive spot, instead moving his fingers in a scissoring motion to stretch you out.

“God—stop doing that,” you pleaded. You felt like an open book, unable to stop yourself from furrowing your eyebrows in annoyance or conceal the painstakingly obvious glint of hunger in your pupil-blown irises.

“Quit whinin’ and maybe I’ll consider it,” he murmured gruffly, enraptured by the way you writhed and squirmed and looked just downright pathetic. You both knew he wouldn’t, not when all the others he’s fucked couldn’t hold a candle to your pliant little body. You knew why he was there in the first place, but still, you remained there on your knees even when he untied them.

You nearly let out a sob when he curled his fingers again, offering you the barest of touches to your prostate that sent liquid fire coursing through your veins.

“Fuck, please,” you begged, yet again. You didn’t know much of this you could take or how long it’d be until he caved. God, was it so much to ask for a man to fuck you stupid?!

“I want your cock inside me so bad, fucking me fast ‘n’ hard ‘n’ deep,” you slurred, hardly able to maintain even the barest shred of dignity. You looked into his deep, green eyes through the mirror’s reflection, hoping he’d relent.

“Yeah? Y’want me in this slutty pussy?” He purred, sliding his slick fingers out of your twitching hole to give it a sharp slap. You jolted just as a spurt of precum slid down your hard cock, leaking onto your clothed, heaving abdomen. He chuckled breathlessly as he leisurely rubbed your puffy rim with the pad of a finger. “You should’ve just said so.”

He wiped his fingers off on the back of your shirt, offering you an oblivious shrug when you glared at him through the mirror. Your knees ached when he had you lean forward a little, placing your more of your weight on the poor joints as he reached down to quickly jerk himself off before tapping the tip of his dick on your asshole one, two, three quick times.

It felt like he was splitting you apart when he finally decided to push through after spitting on your hole, groaning at the way you squeezed around him tighter than a damn virgin. It hurt like a bitch. Of course it did—you made him rush and he was using less than ideal lube, but, God, you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t feel so fucking good.

You watched him lean back a little and hold you by the ropes binding your arms together, rolling his hips experimentally, only to grind his cockhead into your prostate so deliciously you saw stars. A searing heat enveloped your body, blinding you with white that took you far too long to come down from. Opening your eyes (you didn’t even realize you closed them), you instantly spotted your twitching cock drooling cum onto the floor. Fuck. He didn’t even start and you came.

“That was so damn fast.” He couldn’t be bothered to stop the hint of a laugh from leaving his throat. With his free hand, he reached down and gave your throbbing dick a squeeze, stroking it with a tight grip to milk out the rest of your cum.

You shuddered and trembled, biting your lip to stifle your moans. He let go to stuff two of his slick fingers in your mouth, careless with how deep he forced them in. Not that you really minded as you swirled your tongue around his skin, readily cleaning it off. You locked eyes, keeping your expression firm in a weak attempt to regain even a sliver of composure when he suddenly moved, giving you a quick, harsh thrust that nearly knocked the air out of your lungs.

He shifted his fingers, curling them as they pulled on your cheek, tugging at the flesh until he forces your mouth wide open. You couldn’t stop your tongue from lolling out, jaw slack as you drooled and whined and cried every time he rammed his thick cock into your eager fuckhole. He was relentless—pounding into you fast and hard and deep, just like you begged for so prettily.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, digging his fingertips into the flesh of your hip hard enough to leave bruises, arms flexing to yank you back as soon as he pulled out. “Your pussy’s so damn tight,” he panted, brows furrowed in focus, relishing in the sound of his hips slapping your ass and your whorish moans. “M’gonna make sure your messy little cunt remembers my cock by the time I’m finished with you.”

“Uh-huh, mhm,” you nodded, hands itching to grab onto his biceps, his back, something to ground yourself while he churned your insides to mush. It was nigh impossible to think or breathe or speak, but it felt so fucking good.

“Awh, look at yourself,” he cooed, his voice slightly jumpy as he let go of your mouth to roughly pat your cheek, forcing you out of your stupor to make you stare at your reflection. “Are you out of it already? Should I stop?” He questioned, his raspy voice laced with faux concern.

“No! N-No,” you stammered, finding it difficult to comprehend what he was saying until moments later, alerted by the word “stop”. “Don’t stop! Ohh, oh god, please don’t stop!”

You’re so, so sensitive and so full, and you can feel him losing his rhythm. His cock is heavy in your stomach and you swear through your addled brain it’s weighing you down as a trail of precum connects your heated bodies together, frothing between your thighs and his balls.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he grunted, gritting his teeth. He could feel the burning coil in his abdomen intensify with each passing second, and suddenly he’s speeding up, pistoning into you with loud and sloppy thrusts. His green eyes are locked on your swollen and puffy hole sucking him in with a vice grip, watching his cock slide in and out, in and out, over and over again until you’re cumming hard, shaking and convulsing.

“That’s it,” he growls, the sound low and deep. It went straight into your stomach, sparks lighting up under your skin as your hips jerk, unsure whether you want to endure the building overstimulation or move away. “M’gonna cum so deep inside your pretty little pussy I’ll knock you up,” he murmured in your ear, dragging a canine down your neck to clamp his teeth down on the flesh. “Y’want that? To be my breeding bitch?”

You sobbed, unable to answer, but he didn’t need one. Not when your body spoke for you.

He fucked the air out of your lungs one, two, three more times, feeling his balls tighten until he finally came, spilling his cum so deep inside you, you were sure it’d stay there for weeks. You moaned, savoring the warmth that spread through your body with each spurt of his cum that coated your velvety insides, trying to catch your breath before you had to move.

Toji sighed in satisfaction, pulling out after a few moments. He watched your fucked-out hole clench around nothing as it leaked with his seed, spreading one of your asscheeks to get a better view before giving it a final pat.

You didn’t realize he cut the ropes holding your arms behind your back until you nearly fell face-first onto the floor, catching yourself with your numb hands.

“Ow… fuck,” you cursed at the sharp stinging sensation that ran up your arms, shaking them uselessly in an attempt to restore the blood flow faster.

“You were better than I thought you’d be,” he hummed, getting up to fix his clothes. He grabbed his handgun from off the ground, holding it against his shoulder as he stared you down. “But you have three days. Make ‘em count.”

You weren’t oblivious to know that he was giving you a three-day recovery period before he began hunting you again. Even then, you couldn’t stop the shiver of excitement from running through your spine at the prospect of seeing him again.

You grinned, breathless and shaky but confident nonetheless. It was unlikely he’d fuck you once he found you, but a man could dream. "I will."

cross-posted on ao3

[bosinclairsgff]

Cock warming with Otis Driftwood

Warnings: NSFW

A/n THIS FEELS WRONG TO POST. Also first ever smutty fic, give me a break 🙄🫶🏻

Otis hadn’t given you any attention all day. He was busy doing one of his projects and messing with his newest victim. All day he’s barely said two words to you. All you wanted was just a tiny bit of his attention, that’s not to much to ask for right?

Making your way to his work area you found him sitting down and drawing something at his desk. “Otis?” You stand beside him looking down fiddling with your hands. He says nothing but lets out an annoyed sigh. “Are you really busy?” You ask. He throws down his pencil, scooting his chair back slightly. “What does it fucking look like y/n!” Otis yells. “I’m sorry….I just want to be near you. I need you.” You look up at him, making eye contact. Otis notices you squeezing your thighs together. He says nothing for a moment, just rolls his eyes. “Fuck. Fine you can sit on my lap but you make the slightest bit of noice or move at all, I’ll gut you like a fucking pig.” He says in a dark tone. You happily nod and slip your pants off in one swift motion. Otis slides his already hard cock out of his pants waiting for you to take your seat. Straddling his thighs and gripping his shoulders, you lower yourself onto him. Having to bite your lip to hold back a moan. He lets out a shaky sigh. “Remember one fucking peep and your dead.” He whispers into your ear. You nod frantically.

Otis continues to work on his art. A few minutes pass by and you slightly shift in his lap. His hand’s immediately grip your waist, so tight you know bruises will form. “I..I’m sorry Otis I didn’t mean to!” You try to explain. “You think I’m fucking kidding bitch? You think just because I have a soft spot for you I still won’t gut you like some worthless pig?” He spits out. You let out a whimper knowing you couldn’t last much long just sitting sit. “Please let me move, please I need you Otis.” You whisper. He considers what you say for a moment. Without warning he lifts you up slightly then pulls you back down roughly. You let out a gasp. “What did I say about making noise.” Otis says. You bite your lip to quiet yourself. He continues his attack on you, thrusting upwards and helping you find a rhythm. You can feel yourself getting close, biting your lip so hard you draw blood. Otis’s breath was starting to pick up and he was getting sloppy with his thrusts. He pushes you off him, only to press you down on his desk. It’s cold on your tummy. He warms you up though by entering you again in one quick movement. Going a brutal pace you can feel yourself about to explode. Again, he gets sloppy, you know he’s about to cum. “Come on mama cum with me.” He grunts. Just as he says that he pushes deeply into you and you both cum together.

Otis stay there for a moment, hunched over you. After that though he lets go of you and pulls out. You let out a whine not wanting to be empty. “Get the fuck out of here now I’ve got work to do. I know you don’t know what that’s like. You don’t do shit.” He barks out. Normally you’d be hurt but you were so fucked dumb it didn’t even register in your mind that he was being mean.

[lyralaneoriginal12]

Your Voice is My Reality (Platonic Older! Damian Wayne x baby boy reader)

“There there, my sweet angel... Baba isn't going anywhere...”

Aged-Up Damian Wayne as Demon's Head of League of Shadows who also the loving and protective father of you. (It gives 'I will burn the world for you' kinda vibe, but oh well)

(WARNING! OOC)

Damian felt like his heart was about to explode, he fell on the ground and was wounded. The enemy had shot him right in his chest. The pain is unbearable but worst of all, his baby witnesses all this. It was a mistake already to bring you to this type of meeting. Here you are now, witness his assassination.

The League's assassins quickly neutralize all the threats and manage to take control of the situation. You was crying in fear. The enemy also looked scared of what he just did to the Demon Head. You pry release the hold of the nannies and quickly run towards your father.

Damian tried to breathe, he was struggling to stay alive and awake. The assassins and the nannies were shocked because Damian stayed in a pool of his on blood, with a gunshot wound on his torso. The Demon Head was bleeding profusely on the ground after being shot.

“Baba, no!”

Notice his son now right beside him, Damian raises his hand and slowly caressed your head. Even in this state, Damian’s mind only filled the need to protect you and to make sure that you are okay and safe.

“There there, my sweet angel... Baba isn't going anywhere...”

Says Damian in between pain while looking at you with a sad and concerned expression. He tried to fight the pain of the gunshot wound, which was making him feel a bit weaker each moment that passed. Damian vision start to blur. You were crying while clutching on your father's chest. Your beautiful blue robe completely soaks in Damian's blood.

Damian looks at his baby, with a loving, concerned and tender look on his face. With that, Damian closes his eyes. The vision is becoming more and more blurred until... the darkness comes slowly and gradually.

Time Skip

There’s many people wearing all black cloaks, circle the Lazarus Pit. The very pit glow in green and had a very rotten aroma. The smell that was coming from the green pit was awful, it was as if a lot of dead bodies were buried there. Damian's body being carried by the monks. He's ready to be revived from death.

You currently in the arms of Marie, one of the nannies of the League. You suckles quietly on your pacifier, with tiny cloak covering your body, watching the whole ritual carefully and looking closely at the monks.

The monks, Damian's advisors and the assassins were surrounding the pit, waiting for the moment.

You saw how the monks submerge their body until they were waist-deep while gently carrying Damian's corpse. Then, they carefully placed Damian’s corpse into the waters.

You watched as your father was completely submerged in the water. You squirms a little at Marie's arms, feel a little distress when you sees your father being submerged into the toxic green water.

“Hush, Master (Y/N)”

Assure the nanny at his young master to calm you down.

There's a long pause until Damian broke through the water with a feral cry, his jade eyes were glowing an eerie green. The greenish mist coming from the water then filled his eyes, making Damian see the surroundings very weirdly. Damian snarls at the monks and feel how his body is moving and healing on its own.

Damian starts to go wild and attacking the monks and assassins. Everyone knows the effects of being dipped into the Pit, how the user is driven temporarily insane. But well... Damian had used it quite a lot, so the effect doesn’t take toll on him completely. Damian keeps attacking the monks and assassins like a wild animal. Tearing them apart with his bare hands.

The madness continues until you calls out for him.

“Baba...”

The Demon Head stopped immediately and turned his gaze to those angelic voices, looking at the baby with malicious gaze. Damian saw that you was being held by Marie. You makes a grabby hand at Damian, which scares Marie who tries to protect you from Damian rampage.

Damian stops attacking everybody once he hears his name being called by his angel. Damian closed and opened his eyes once again, as his sweet angel's voice snapped him back to reality. Slowly but surely, recognition was in his eyes. Damian’s rage and feral behavior are over.

“(Y/N)…”

Damian slowly stands up, while look at all the shocked faces of the advisors, assassins, and monks, who are watching the whole scene with a confused and scared expression on their faces.

Damian slowly walks out of the Pit and goes to you whose still in the nanny arms. The green water wetted the concrete floor, but he didn’t care, he needed to embrace his son now. The servants quickly cover Damian's body with his majestic red robe, so he won’t catch cold. Like there’s no tomorrow, Damian takes you from the protective hold of your nanny. You quickly hugs your father in a loving manner.

“Baba”

Damian gently holds the baby in his arms, with the loving and caring eyes of a father, who's glad to be back with his little boy. Damian looks at the whole room, with all the advisors, assassins and monks looking at both Damian and his son, with a confused expression on their faces. Damian couldn’t help but chuckle a little especially to the monks and assassins he accidentally hurt previously.

“Well, this is... awkward...”

The people in the room couldn’t help but giggle a little at Damian’s remark.

Damian looked at his baby with a happy smile on his face.

“Hey, beloved. I missed you so much.”

Damian kisses you on your chubby cheek, as your cute smile touches Damian’s heart. You giggles softly when his father does so while pinching his your own nose cutely.

“Baba stinky. You are stinky!”

Damian chuckles a bit when you says that he is stinky. You didn’t go wrong though.

“Yes, yes, beloved. I must admit... I need to get a bath but now that I'm back with you again, my precious angel.”

Damian smiles a little at you again, feeling his heart being touched by your adorable words and the little pinch you gives yourself after making this sweet and funny remark. Then, you happily claps your hand.

“Bubble bath, Baba! Bubble bath!”

Damian chuckles after your comment as he gently touches your small and soft chubby hands.

“Yes, bubble bath it is.”

The servants quickly scatter to prepare bubble bath at the grand bathroom of the League of Shadows base.

[miabbh]

Undocked ⚓🦇

vampire ship captain!Baekhyun x reader

Synopsis: With the madness that the passage of time brings to his kind, he is forced to save you from what he himself did to you, when you were trying to run away from your state of life just much as he was.

Genre: fluff, semi-explicit, tiny bit of angst, mentions of blood | around 8,5k words

There are only two circumstances in which there is nothing left to do: when you die, and when you lose hope. Even so, for the ultimate end, these two must coexist.

He still carried hope; you, life.

With age, for those of his kind, wisdom was joined by madness and lack of control, intertwined with growing folly and perdition. The omen of the end was revealed as an irresistible temptation: a visceral desire to reintegrate with those from whom they had once been estranged, in the illusory hope of recovering their lost humanity. But this closeness only awakened the dark nature that dwelled underneath, summoning the beast that hungrily waited to break free. When the mask fell, horror and carnage were unleashed and the inevitable followed.

Baekhyun recognised the signs well, spectral melodies that echoed with the arrival of each new moon, as familiar as they were terrifying. What had begun as a mournful whisper, steeped in nostalgia, now explodes into ferocious cries from the depths of his diaphragm, rising up his throat to become inhuman screams, reverberating like echoes in chambers of cold stone.

The sea has become his only bastion since it started to become a threat to stay on land for long periods of time. If it hadn't been for Chanyeol, these last three months on land would have had much more to embitter his conscience than the resentment that he might not survive until the end of the decade.

The ships he commanded became progressively smaller, safer, as safe as it was to have a vampire who couldn't control his instincts confined to a vessel with a hundred or two of humans. Small ships with two hundred filthy rich humans, with addictions corrupting their souls and bodies—they weren't exactly the most desirable, not even for when the most savage being revealed itself.

Grateful for his survival instincts, Baekhyun clung to what still made him feel useful and happy—the helms of the small cruise ships on which he shared command with Chanyeol.

He didn't even have a safe harbour now, except for the two of them.

Still, he smiles, with a smile that defies the very essence of what flowed through him, overflowing with an unsuspected tenderness, so authentic that it seems to question the nature of the blood that courses through his unholy veins.

And then, you.

For the first time in decades, his smile found a more sub-lime purpose.

He sensed your presence even before his eyes reached you, as if the sweetness you radiated was an invisible enchantment, crossing the ballroom with a subtlety that stood out amid the decadence of perfumes and muffled voices. For a moment, Baekhyun let himself be carried away, his attention lost, disconnected from the insipid conversation between the officials and the cruise company representatives. Moved by an almost spectral impulse, he looked for you and saw you coming through the varnished wooden door, trying to tidy up your hair that had come loose from the simple but elegant updo, possibly because of the wind outside.

He followed your every hesitant step with fascination, until you settled by the window, away from the crowd.

He saw you for the first time at check-in, when your fragrance was mixed with a touch of apprehension, as you carried a suitcase in one hand and a camera in the other, walking down the corridor towards the cabins.

There was something hypnotic about the way you captured the world around you: the empty corridor, the plaster mouldings on the walls, the minimalist ornaments and, finally, the number on your door—64. Or the fact that you found interest in the simplest detail of the signature on the ship's map.

A faint smile had appeared on his lips as he watched you from a distance, like a figure lost in the shadows at the bottom of the stairs.

There was an unusual magnetism about you, a presence that seemed to belong to another era, and he felt drawn to your existence. Yet you remained motionless, your countenance serenely composed, concealing the turmoil that was agitating your spirit.

Now, seeing you come in late for dinner, occupying a solitary table, aroused in him a restlessness that bordered on despair. The desire to get up and walk over to you resounded like an inexorable call, but he held back. Chanyeol mentioned his name, and Baekhyun, momentarily pulled out of the spell that was enveloping him, once again concealed the intensity of his interest with the dexterity of an actor.

The wind blew so hard the moment you stepped out on deck that it almost ripped out the clip holding your hair in a semi-formal updo. Since you checked in mid-afternoon, you had been contemplating whether to stay in your cabin all night or attend the welcoming dinner offered by the cruise company. And now, on the verge of descending the stairs to the harbour, you were rethinking your choice.

The dinner was taking place in a small ballroom, just above the harbour where the cruise ship was docked. From the movement around you, it seemed that all the other passengers were already there when you finally grabbed hold of the metal railing of the staircase that connected the ship to the harbour. At least it didn't sway in the wind!

It's not that you're a fan of these occasions—exquisite dinners, without knowing anyone, without a clear purpose—and it wasn't with that in mind that you joined this mini holiday on the Atlantic. But the movement of the waves, which you weren't used to, made you uneasy. If the boat capsizes because of the wind, or water gets into the cabins, or the lights go out because of the afterlife, you didn't want to be the only one left on board because you were embarrassed to sit alone at dinner.

A lot had driven you to that moment, despite your tendency to be anxious at the thought of getting on a boat on the high seas without knowing how to swim.

There wasn't much to look forward to in your daily life; everything and nothing happened at the same time. You rushed to stay in the same place, in a tedious and exhausting limbo, where you didn't even know who you were anymore.

That wasn't the work perspective you had when you did your master's in photography. Your job in a photography agency was well paid, your nine and a half hours three out of five days a week of work were almost forgotten when the end of the month arrived and you managed to pay all the bills and enjoy a bit of pampering for your collection of photographic equipment. However, you soon saw your landscapes and city moments captured on camera turn into all the same photographs of individuals with their arms crossed with more or less similar promises, against a monochrome background and perfectly controlled lighting.

Your dream, tucked away in a corner of the living room and in a few drawers and cupboards, only saw the light of day on some Sundays. Just like your creativity.

After seven years at the same pace, you felt betrayed. Betrayed by yourself. You didn't have the time, despite the material you'd invested so much in; you didn't have the energy, despite the will and encouragement of those who loved you. Carrying a camera in your hands had gone from a comfort to a burden on your heart.

The passion slowly faded without you realizing it.

Until 18 months ago, when exhaustion overtook the usual tiredness, and getting home consisted of taking a quick shower, leaning against the kitchen worktop while Alejandro handled the pots and pans with your dinner, and barely remembering to eat it to wake up in bed the next day with the alarm clock ringing.

Alejandro was an attentive and caring and funny boyfriend. You met while fighting over the last almond cookies from the bakery in your street.

It started with a small, deadly hatred for each other, always with a view to getting to the stand first. It was a bit ridiculous, when you thought about it outside of moments of competitive adrenaline, but you only had to watch him round the corner on his noisy motorbike to not-so-discreetly chain his way to the bakery door.

Everything changed the day they both arrived at the bakery at the same time, exhausted from racing each other. You laughed together for the first time, your faces flushed from running, and he offered you the last almond cookie. From that moment on, something unfolded naturally. Before long, he was in your life in a solid and stable way. Competition gave way to quiet complicity, and his presence became comforting.

With him, there was a sense of solid partnership that emerged in the simplest moments: a silly joke at the end of the day, the care taken to put a blanket over you when you fell asleep on the sofa, or the way he looked at you, as if every beat of his heart was thanks to your presence.

In the last six months, however, it was only through the selfie with him that you had as your lockscreen that you saw him. Work days went by in a flash, and you only remembered to go home after the usual stress of fighting for a parking slot in front of your building. Everything else was a mixture of yawns, a heavy body and your mind thinking about what you had to do the next day.

Your end came after almost four years. He was understanding, but offered a lot of resistance. Maybe that's what you deserved... how could you love someone if you didn't even love yourself? If you weren't even fighting for what you wanted?

You were so, so close to giving up—to giving up on the life you had. But then you allowed yourself to take a risk. The final straw came the day you broke your camera lens at one of your work meetings. To help it, your car wouldn't start when it was time to leave; you had to park almost on the other side of the block when you arrived at an empty, dark home.

It was enough!

The letter of resignation appeared on your computer in minutes, as if your fingers knew better than your mind what you wanted to say.

Sending it took a little longer, you were given two hours—shower and a not very successful attempt at cooking—to send the email.

And send it you did.

A week was enough to realise that you had been impulsive. But a part of your mind wouldn't allow you to feel guilty; that's what you wanted deep down, wasn't it?

The walls of an empty flat, the work folders on your computer, the photos on your camera memory card didn't really allow you to rest.

You had no tears left to cry-not even for yourself, nor for the film playing in the background on TV, full of inspiring phrases about resilience and courage.

When the ad break came, you almost laughed at the irony: an advert for a cruise line that promised the perfect escape from a monotonous life.

"I'm spending a week on a cruise across the Atlantic. I promise I'll keep you updated, but please don't call me." is what you said to your parents and friends after booking a cabin on the company's website, extending the conversation a little further with rearrangements about the upcoming festivities.

A small cruise with only 170 people in total, in search of a little peace from the hustle and bustle of the city and something beautiful to photograph, that would touch your soul, that would make you feel connected to your dream again.

What a good synopsis for what you hoped would be a good restart to your life, rather than a stray from the end.

To begin with, however, you decided to leave the camera, your only constant companion, in the cabin.

Today, it was just you.

A crew member guarding the entrance, with a watchful eye, was waiting at the bottom of the stairs and asked:

"Are you going to dinner, miss?" You nodded. You nodded. "That car can take you there."

The black car with the company logo was parked a few metres away. You walked down the remaining steps, a sudden relief in your chest as you felt you were on solid ground, the wind no longer so strong.

"Yes, please."

He signalled, and the car lights came on before the driver got out of his seat and opened the back door for you.

The car door closed beside you with a soft click, muffling the sound of the wind whipping through the harbour. You watched the small, illuminated ballroom approach, feeling a mixture of hesitation and discomfort.

You looked around, searching for some familiar sign, but you knew you were alone.

As you entered the lounge, the soft lights and the hushed murmur of conversation created a cosy atmosphere. You looked for a discreet table, away from the centre of attention. You found one, by the window, overlooking the harbour, now shrouded in darkness were it not for the ship's outside lights. You sat there, watching the lounge. Your gaze passed over the unfamiliar faces, the elegantly decorated tables, feeling like an outsider among everyone.

As you settled in, you let your gaze wander around the room. The unfamiliar faces mingled in conversations and laughter that echoed in the background. You had met some of the crew during check-in, but you only recognised the second captain, Chanyeol, sitting at a table in the centre with a few other crew members. He was smiling in the same way as when you first saw him: a smile almost too sweet for his height and build.

You took a deep breath, looking at the table in front of you and wondering how long you would have to stand there before it was acceptable to return to the cabin. Perhaps you could order something light to eat and escape before the end...

While you were analysing your surroundings, one of the waitresses approached you.

"Can I get you something, miss?"

"Something light, please." you said in an almost inaudible tone, forcing a polite smile. You didn't have much of an appetite.

She nodded and, a few minutes later, brought you some soup and an omelette with roast vegetables. You nodded your thanks and started eating.

A woman at the next table laughed at something, and you looked up. You should have sat back to them. Or sideways, at least... Suddenly, that familiar feeling of strangeness when eating returned, and you had to put down your spoon and drink some of the cool water, opting to attack the omelette for the time being.

You ate in silence, as quickly as possible without seeming rushed. You could already feel the relief creeping in, about to escape, when the lights in the lounge subtly changed and soft music began to play. The first chords of a waltz-like melody filled the room, and you were overcome with a mixture of curiosity and delight.

A small dance floor opened up in the centre, and couples began to join in slowly, lulled by the music.

You didn't realise that this was what they meant when they said "𝐃𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬".

The beauty of the dance and the human warmth that radiated from the moment touched you in a way you hadn't expected. You automatically grabbed your phone to capture some images. You wished you'd brought the camera when the photo didn't quite live up to expectations.

Possibly the few hundred photos you had taken of your own volition and pleasure only existed because of Alejandro. He didn't like being "immortalised in bytes" and had already made that clear several times, but you still allowed him to sneak into one or the other. His serene smile, dark skin and black hair added an intimate and real touch to the photographs. It was a piece of your story, too.

If he was here, maybe you could 'live the moment and save it on your minds' on the dance floor too.

You didn't let the memory get to you. Or you tried to. A heavy sigh demanded to be released.

You looked around. You hadn't realised how interesting the space was: a mix of an older architectural style, probably over two hundred years old, from the windows and columns and chandeliers, with the flooring you see everywhere these days and the round, simple tables of this century.

It was a beautiful location for wedding photos. With the right decoration, some flowers, a happy couple and family and friends genuinely celebrating. Maybe you could get a few shots of the sun harbouring through those huge windows. Just the silhouette and the sky painted orange and pink...

You were back in your element, observing and freezing moments. The smile grew on your lips unintentionally, imagining the possibilities that space had to offer.

You turned to photograph the chandelier when someone approached your table. A man with a gentle smile on his lips stopped next to you. You didn't recognise him immediately, but there was something about the way he looked at you, with a quiet curiosity, that disarmed you.

You pressed your phone against the chest.

"May I have the honour of this dance?" he asked, his voice low and calm, but full of a kind of magnetism.

He was tall, with brown hair and a deep, sweet gaze to match his smile, which became a little smaller as his cheeks rose. The dark blue tone of the knitted sweater suited his features so well, as did the gold pendant he wore around his neck.

The women at the next table watched him with intent, a hint of envy in their wrinkled noses or in the nerve of their eyebrows. He, however, didn't seem to notice.

Surprised, you looked at him. Why you?

There was a calmness about him that drew you in, as if he were in no hurry, as if he had all the time in the world to wait for you.

You hunched your shoulders, as if that could hide you.

"I... I'm not very good at dancing any more…" you said with a small, nervous smile.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes shining with lightness.

"I promise I won't trip you up.”

And 'no' was no longer an answer to that inviting slender hand.

"Well, then..." the cellphone was left on the table when you placed your hand in his, a little hesitant. But he remained still, holding your hand with a gentleness that gave you confidence.

When you reached the dance floor, the lights seemed to soften even more and the music enveloped you in a slow and enchanting rhythm. You smiled nervously when your free hand rested on his broad shoulder, the other subtly rolling into his until they fit together.

A soft touch of a waltz enveloped you. The first steps were tentative, but he guided you confidently, and as the dance progressed, you began to lose yourself in the moment. Your movements became fluid.

The room glowed with twinkling lights, and the warmth of the crowd became a distant backdrop.

It wasn't difficult. You had danced before, yes. Several times, with more or less public, when the simplicity of teenage life gave you time to experiment and dedicate some time a week to activities that were a rewarding indulgence.

The firm touch of his hand that held yours high, the light pressure of his fingers on your back brought back that feeling of going back in time. And suddenly it seemed like everything had a solution.

His face in profile, as he measured the spacing between the other dancers before making you move forward, showed serenity and fun. If he only knew what he was doing for you…

He felt your gaze on him.

"My name is Baekhyun, by the way." he said, turning to you, eyes fixed on yours.

Baekhyun.

You smiled at him and said your name.

He repeats it with a smile that you used to only see through the camera when you went out to take photos in the park. As if it were a name with immense meaning, beautiful, and because it is yours.

For a moment, everything seemed perfect.

In a sudden change of pace, in your distraction, you tripped over your own feet. A brief moment of imbalance, and before you can correct yourself, you feel yourself losing your stability, the ground slipping away from you.

That was living in the dream, wasn't it? Waking up to reality in the best part... Have you prepared yourself for the pain of falling, or waking up still at the table trying to figure out how to use a spoon without feeling embarrassed.

But instead of the impact, you felt Baekhyun reacting instantly, pulling you closer.

“Sorry." you murmured, pressed against his chest, grabbing the shoulder of his sweater when the world stopped being on pause.

A moment of silence fell over the two of you before it turned into an explosion of laughter. He laughed, and the sound of his laughter was contagious. The environment around you seemed to light up even more, and you couldn't help but smile as you felt the lightness of the situation.

“Thanks." you whispered. Baekhyun just smiled, his eyes shining with a mix of amusement and relief.

“I was the one who promised not to let you trip… I’m sorry.” he said.

“I was distracted.” you explained.

“Me too.”

The sequence returned to the beginning, the steps almost already memorized.

The melody calms down, and as the song approaches the end, you feel a slight sadness, a reluctance for the moment to end. Baekhyun pulled you a little closer, and the intensity of his gaze made you feel as if time could become infinite.

When the music finally stopped, they both walked away a little, breathing heavily and their hearts still beating quickly. He removed his hand from your back immediately, but the one holding yours remained.

"Thanks for the dance, Baekhyun.”

He smiled again, a smile that seemed to know more than it let on.

"The pleasure is mine."

As you moved away from the center, you heard Captain Chanyeol's voice approaching, along with another man. Baekhyun's hand suddenly squeezed yours.

“Good evening, miss.” he said to you, smiling. Dimples appeared on his face. “Captain, the president of the music group who will be on board.”

Your eyes widened, feeling your heart speed up.

Captain? Was Baekhyun the captain?

You felt heat rise to your face, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. He had introduced himself in such a simple way, without any mention of his position, that you also took the liberty of treating him without apparatus.

He greeted the man, releasing your hand.

"Captain...?" you murmured, more to yourself than to him, but his gaze fell on you as soon as he let go of the man's hand.

Baekhyun allowed himself to smile, a light but controlled expression. He hadn't introduced himself properly so as not to cause you more hesitation, or shyness, and because it really wasn't important at the moment.

"Yes." he said. "But I prefer Baekhyun. Captain only during duty hours.” He winked before giving a curt nod. “And it seems that the service calls. I hope to see you soon for a second dance, though.”

Without thinking, you just nodded yes.

And with that, he smiled and followed the other two men to the back of the room, his expression slightly more serious. What would it be like to see him in uniform?

Stop, silly!

He didn't want to leave you so soon. He had fun dancing like he hadn't had fun in months. Dancing had that effect on him, especially waltzes.

Waltzes were a tradition that the company maintained to preserve the classic charm of the experience, something that looked good in slogans and advertisements, but in reality, few passengers knew how to dance like they used to. They were now just a warm-up for the following songs, later in the night, of modern beats, which pulsed in an irregular, almost disconcerting way, with chaotic and intense rhythms that seemed to tune out the rhythm of his immortal—but eternally of good taste—heart.

By that moment, he would have retreated further into a corner, trying to ignore the modern cacophony.

The conversation with the director didn't take long. Some basic questions about the presence of the musical group on board, very brief technical details and a more personal presentation about each of the artists.

Baekhyun tried to look interested, but he already knew everything he needed to about them. The rest, the logistics and security personnel took care of. Age was beginning to weigh on him as he had to deal with things he didn't need to.

Chanyeol, however, seemed to be enchanted by one of the artists. The questions came and went, more flirtatious than actually work related—in 1500 years of friendship, he had never heard Chanyeol take as much interest in the strings of a bandolin as he does now.

The imposing melody of Blue Danube woke him from his reverie. A classic that never goes out of style, even though it's not the same to listen to the recording and live. He looked back at the dance floor, looking for you.

He didn't see you anywhere. He stretched his neck, looking for you in the corners. You seemed to have a preference for them…

Contrary to your observation, you danced well, loose and fluid, responding perfectly to his movements. Your hand rested on his shoulder, light but firm, while your arm rested gently on his. You twirled with grace, following him around the track without losing your balance, and he felt every accelerated pulse of your heart against his chest. It was delicious torture.

Every dance movement, every light touch you exchanged, was an internal battle to not give in to the desire to have you closer. And even with all his experience, your presence destabilized him in a way he hadn't anticipated.

He wanted more. And he promised you that.

He felt an elbow on his ribs, and he looked to his left, Chanyeol looking at him with a knowing smile.

“Go there and ask the lonely maiden to dance.” teased Chanyeol, with a playful smile on his lips. “She's waiting for you near the bar. But if you take too long, I might invite her myself…” The sparkle in his eyes was unmistakable, always ready to instigate, test Baekhyun's limits, as only Chanyeol knew how to do.

Baekhyun gave him a warning look before slowly turning around. The thought of seeing Chanyeol spinning you around the track made him act faster than he would like to admit.

It had always been like this between the two: teasing, sarcasm, but a deep complicity that transcended any words. Chanyeol was the only person with whom Baekhyun could be himself, the only one who knew every dark detail of his existence. They shared a long history, marked by moments of mutual salvation. Chanyeol had been there on countless occasions when Baekhyun had almost succumbed to his wilder, more destructive side. Without him, Baekhyun feared that his decline would have already led to irreversible disasters.

He also knew that his friend was always attentive, especially at times like this—in a place full of people. Chanyeol made a point of keeping him grounded, especially now, when the presence of someone as… tempting as you was around.

Maybe that was the real reason behind Chanyeol's joke—to distract him, to help him maintain control over his mind. He was Baekhyun's balance, the firm rope that kept him from falling into the abyss of his own nature.

But him dancing with you? Hell no!

That would be a disaster for his heart. Chanyeol had a charm that was very difficult to resist.

“Relax.” Chanyeol added, patting him friendly on the shoulder. The two ladies in the artist group laughed. “You don't need to bite. Come on, do your part. Promised is due, and I am more one to bite than to twirl.”

Baekhyun laughed at the pun.

“You lack chivalry.” he said.

“It wasn't necessary. They were happy enough when I sat serenading them.”

Baekhyun didn't look back this time.

His eyes searched for you, and there you were, near the bar with a glass of something orange. He hesitated for a moment, watching you from a distance. There was a quiet beauty about you, a serenity that contrasted with the brightness of the party. Maybe that was what attracted him—that aura of someone who seemed to be in a world apart, immersed in something that others couldn't see.

The slow steps guided him to you. A part of Baekhyun couldn't help it: your blood called to him. He knew it smelled delicious, sweet and filled with deep emotions.

It wasn't just the physicality that attracted him—you were breathtaking, really!—but the complexity of what you felt, which made every beat of your heart an irresistible invitation. And despite the sweetness, he knew there was something bitter mixed in. Emotions like sadness, anguish, or perhaps loneliness, filtered into the blood, making it richer, more seductive.

Containing his predatory impulses, Baekhyun stopped a few steps away from you and, with a controlled smile, asked you to dance again.

“I think I owe you a dance, miss.”

Your eyes lit up with a brief hesitation just like the first time, but you accepted. When your fingers touched his hand, he felt the familiar wave of desire rise through his body, but he quickly pushed it away.

He needed to keep himself grounded.

The eyes fell on you again. He couldn't be less bothered, but you seemed to be embarrassed by the sudden attention.

“Does it bother you about the envy on their faces or the attention you attract because you are so beautiful?” he asked, eyes on yours.

The blush that passed through you through the stages did not escape his attentive gaze. He tried not to laugh, but he couldn't contain it. He moved his hand to your ribs, his fingertips now brushing the bone of your spine.

Your lack of reaction made him realize that perhaps he had gone too far. He didn't want to push you away or make you shy. He wanted to see you laugh again.

It was like your every laugh still echoed in him, awakening a primal desire to protect you and a pride that tingled in his fangs. Baekhyun forced himself to contain the impulse. He fought against thirst, against the hunger that had been growing in the last few days.

“Sorry." He murmured, with a hoarse voice and his gaze fixed on yours.

“It’s fine.” you replied, smiling. “I’m not used to so much attention, that’s all.”

He tilted his head, his smile softening his features. “Then let’s pretend no one else is here.”

For a brief moment, it seemed as if the world had truly disappeared around you.

The urge to pull you closer, to feel your warm skin beneath his lips, was almost uncontrollable. The thought of whispering your name before erasing any memory of what was about to happen tempted him terribly.

You were smiling. An infectious smile that Baekhyun couldn't help but imitate. The sound of your racing heart filled his ears, each beat more tempting than the last. It was like a mesmerizing melody, calling him closer to danger.

So tempting… but he couldn't!

The desire to get closer, to feel the heat of your skin, to taste the sweetness that emanated from you was almost unbearable. He bit his lower lip, trying to push away the images that invaded his mind.

But it took a moment. A fleeting distraction, small, but enough to break the spell that kept him contained. Suddenly, his head turned towards the bar, his heightened senses picking up something you hadn't yet noticed. A smell. An aroma that tore through his control with the ferocity of a hungry beast.

The barista, with a pained expression, threw a lemon cut in two into the trash while examining his bloody finger. The smell of blood invaded the room, subtle for anyone else, but for Baekhyun it was like a spark that ignites gunpowder.

In an instant, his heart sped up. The world around him seemed to lose focus, and his instincts took over. The scent of blood was like a drum echoing in his ears, his vision becoming blurred, and his gaze fixed on the bar. He twirled with you, but the movements were no longer smooth; his touch, once light and safe, became erratic, tense.

A familiar tremor began to be heard within him, a deep sound that vibrated through his chest, as if he were the one doing it. Then it began to climb up his throat, his mind becoming confused with how high pitched the scream promised to be, tearing through his dry, painful string.

His arm's grip on your waist loosened, and you, without the firm support of seconds before, stumbled slightly, almost falling backwards.

“Baekhyun!?” Yours echoed through the space, hitting the walls, the tables, the chairs, the chandelier, but it was still distant for him. But he couldn't ignore your soft groan of pain when you grabbed his shoulder tightly.

Quicker than awareness returning to him, Baekhyun slid his hand to your back, pulling you towards him in one swift movement. He held his breath, wide eyes still searching the ground as shock coursed through his body. He could still smell that blood—not the best, certainly, but enough to stop his hunger.

The touch of your skin, the closeness of your face, and your eyes—so alive with adrenaline, so bright under the hall light; in suffering—met his with an unexpected intensity.

You were the 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙮; and you were 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩.

The predatory instinct vanished, giving way to the pity that twisted his empty stomach.

“Hey!” He asked in the next instant, his gaze fixed on yours as you leaned on him and touched your heel. His throat burned with each word. “You got hurt…”

He watched you contort your face before smiling slightly.

“It's nothing.”

Baekhyun couldn't accept the realization. He swallowed a lot of saliva, trying to hide his fangs in his closed mouth.

No, I couldn't leave you there, injured, because of him.

“Let me help you get out of here.”

Chanyeol found you both on your way to the nearest table, his eyes worried, but Baekhyun didn't seem to notice, kneeling at your feet as he made sure of the extent of the damage caused by his own distraction.

“What happened?” he asked. “Are you okay, miss?”

Baekhyun followed the movement of your head, nodding, a slight smile on your lips. He would even believe it if he couldn't feel your heart skipping a beat every time he moved your ankle to the left.

“It was just a misstep-”

“I didn’t hold her properly.” Baekhyun said immediately, looking at Chanyeol finally.

Their eyes met, and no words were needed for them to understand each other. The smell of blood remained in the air, now mixed with a smell of alcohol and saline, but the effect was still there.

Chanyeol got a little closer, but Baekhyun felt the threat. He moved to the side, still on his knees, blocking Chanyeol with his own back.

You got hurt because of him. He was the one to take care of you, not Chanyeol.

“It’s not like I-” you start to speak, but he spoke up again.

“You did nothing wrong. You're a good dancer.” his voice was firm, holding your feet as if it was made of glass.

You swallowed hard, little tempted to counter. It was the truth, anyway.

Chanyeol took a step closer, putting a hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder. He looked up, raising an eyebrow.

“I'll get you some ice, okay?” he says, still smiling. But the squeeze on Baekhyun's shoulder just made it clear that he knew what was going on.

The pain on Baekhyun's throat wasn't there anymore. All that remained now was the constant tremor of a low, deep roar on his chest, just above the diaphragm; and the need to do something for you.

He nodded, and as Chanyeol disapeared to the other side of the room towards the bar, he looked up at you again. You looked so beautiful under all those imitations of crystal chandeliers. Pink cheeks, the strands of hair that had already been loosened by the wind even more loose from the dance movements.

How could he be distracted, when you were right in front of him? He spent the whole night admiring you. And was your blood worth so little like the one from the bartender?

He was getting mad...

Along with the realization, the damn cacaphony began. Colourful lights illuminated the room as a man on a mix table began to speak before putting on his headphones. It seemed to awaken everyone from table conversations, and some passengers even ran to the dance floor.

He sighed discreetly—he would have a huge headache due to those spotlights; then, he noticed the light scent of discomfort coming from you.

He glanced up again, catching the discomfort in your expression. You sighed, not from the regret of missing the dance floor—though he couldn’t quite imagine you there, either—but from a different kind of unease. He couldn’t help but smile, a quiet understanding passing between you.

“Not a fan of this kind of music?” he asked, the faint amusement in his tone not lost on you.

You tilted your head thoughtfully.

“It’s not that I dislike it… it’s just too much noise, too many lights. Not my thing.”

He nodded.

“Would you like to go back to the cruise? I can accompany you.”

“Oh! There’s no need!” you replied, but your voice faltered slightly, betraying you. Then, a small smile crept onto your face. “Though… maybe it wouldn’t hurt to escape this…” you said, gesturing to the vibrant chaos of the ballroom. He chuckled.

“Noise pollution?” he teased, his smile growing as you shrugged.

“You said it.” you replied, smiling shyly.

Gently, he helped you with your shoe, slipping it back onto your foot before standing and offering his hand. As he led you through the exit, he made sure to keep Chanyeol out of sight. Baekhyun didn’t want anyone pushing you away from him—not now.

The chill of the night air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, and you shivered under the brisk wind.

He looked around, looking for the car that was assigned to transport him. Two pairs of bright lights lit up, and quickly a black car stopped in front of you.

A car took you to the harbour, stopping at the ship’s stairs. As you moved to step out, Baekhyun reached into the front seat and pulled out a crisp white coat and gently draped it over your shoulders. The fabric was heavier than you expected, and as you looked down, the insignias and name tag caught your eye—this wasn’t just any coat. It was his Captain's jacket.

He held back his smile when he saw you blush. You felt the warmth of his hands linger as he guided you inside, steadying you with a quiet presence that spoke louder than words. His hand settled respectfully on your back, but you could feel the subtle strength in his touch as he supported most of your weight up the stairs. Each step unhurried.

Reaching your cabin door, you fumbled with the card, eventually leaning against the frame. Baekhyun let you go.

"Thank you." you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your gaze drifted over to him, meeting his eyes. For a second, they glimmered with something he wasn't able to hide—a guarded warmth, an unspoken need.

He smiled, a gentle shrug lifting his shoulders. Words danced on his lips, wanting to spill out—a proposal, The proposal—but he held it back. He didn't want to scare you. Instead, he simply nodded.

"Anything you need, just let me know.”

You nodded.

You nodded, and he couldn't help himself but question if you could feel the quiet weight of his words.

"Okay. Thanks, really!" you replied, suddently distracted by the soft vibration of your phone.

Glancing at the screen, you caught a glimpse of a name with a heart beside it. Baekhyun’s gaze flickered to your phone too, just for a split second. You didn’t answer the message right away, though.

“Well… see you tomorrow!" you managed, forcing casualness. Baekhyun nodded, his lips curving in a faint smile, though his eyes were far away.

The door closed softly, and you were gone.

But Baekhyun stood there for a moment longer, staring at the empty space where you had been, the air still thick with your scent, your warmth. His thoughts spun, entangled with questions he couldn’t answer. Who were you? How had you managed to slip so effortlessly into his world, so precious yet so heartbreakingly alone?

He wanted to know you.

As the silence settled, a sharp, electric pang flared in his fangs, the ache tearing through his dry throat like fire.

He clenched his fists, feeling the sharp bite of his own control fraying at the edges. He knew he should leave, put as much distance between you and his growing hunger as possible. But you were close—so close he could still feel the warmth of your skin, still smell the lingering trace of your perfume. The temptation was maddening.

The shaking resumed, sounding like a small growling beast.

Inhaling deeply, he turned on his heel, willing himself to walk away before he lost control entirely.

Just as he was about to walk away, you opened the door again, your voice breaking the stillness.

“Baekhyun, your jacket!" you called, holding it in your hand.

He turned, his gaze meeting yours. Your hair had fallen loose, framing your face, and he could see the slight rise and fall of your chest, hear the quickened beat of your heart from rushing to catch him. The air thickened between you both—there was no turning back now.

His eyes softened, then darkened, as if caught in some ancient longing he didn’t quite understand. He moved forward, stopping just shy of touching you, his eyes locked on yours, his voice dropping to a murmur that wrapped around you like a whisper of velvet.

“Look at you… my sweet, sweet thing. The most precious I've seen in years, and you're alone." His voice softened, filled with a hint of reverence and an ache he couldn’t name. "How could anyone… not see you?”

Something in his words gripped you, pulling you toward him. Your heart raced faster, a warmth spreading in your chest as his eyes held you captive. The jacket slipped from your fingers, forgotten, as you reached out, your hand finding the edge of his knit sweater. You held onto it, steadying yourself, letting the warmth of him seep through the fabric. His thirst flared, sharp and relentless, yet a strange calm held him in place. For the first time in what felt like eternity, he felt… patient.

You leaned against him yourself, your breath a bit too fast, your heart beating at the same rhythm. You touched him first, his jacket falling on the floor as you grabbed his knit sweater. He felt thirsty, but something was different. He was in no rush.

Standing on tiptoe, your injured foot hanging slightly, you leaned in, lips brushing his cheek.

"You can do it" you whispered, a mix of trust and challenge in your voice.

His eyes widened, flickering with surprise before his expression darkened, shifting into something deeper, more primal.

He hesitated. The beast protested.

"That's the moment you say my nameeeee~" you hummed, and he inhaled exasperatedly.

He cradled your neck gently, as if afraid to break you, tilting your head just so. His lips brushed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. And with one last, shuddering breath, he whispered your name as he surrendered to his hunger.

The first taste of you was pure ecstasy—a bittersweet blend that brought him to life, flooding his senses with warmth and fire.

Your essence, rich and alive, filled him with a rush of emotions he hadn’t felt in decades. He felt the years of hidden sorrow and hope, the fragile resilience woven into every drop. Your hands gripped his arms, a quiet and ecstasy gasp leaving your lips, and he drew you closer, held you tighter, as if afraid you might vanish.

He couldn't stop.

But then, something in your touch changed—a weak tug, a small gasp that sounded almost like fear. He barely registered it, lost in the intoxicating pull of you, until–

You sagged against him, all strength leaving your body.

Reality slammed into him, jolting him from his trance. He pulled back, eyes wide, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you from collapsing.

Your skin was pale, your breathing shallow, your pulse… barely there. Horror twisted inside him as he looked at you, truly looked at you, lying limp in his arms.

The shaking in his chest stopped.

He found himself lost, savoring the taste of your blood still in his mouth.

What had he done?

He laid you gently on the bed, panic clawing at him as he stumbled back to shut the door. He returned to you, hands trembling, searching desperately for any sign of life, any flicker of warmth. But there was nothing. Only a cold, unnerving silence.

"No…" he whispered, voice breaking. This couldn’t be happening. He hadn’t meant to go this far. “No, no, no, no!”

Desperation took over, and he bit into his wrist, feeling the sharp sting as he tore the skin. Blood pooled, rich and dark, and he held it over your lips, letting three heavy drops fall, each one a plea, a promise. The thick red drops slid past your parted lips, disappearing into the silence.

He knelt beside you, breath held, his own heart pounding as he waited. The seconds stretched, each one heavier than the last. He could hear his own ragged breathing, his mind swirling with regret, dread, and a glimmer of impossible hope.

What if you never woke up? What if he had ruined everything in a single moment of weakness? He leaned over you, fingers brushing your cheek as he searched for any sign—any flicker of response.

The morning sky stretched wide and endless, a muted blue broken only by soft clouds trailing across the horizon. Baekhyun and Chanyeol stood silently at the helm, watching the port dissolve behind them as the ship drifted toward open waters. They had left the shore far enough behind that the sounds of the world had dulled to a whisper, and only the calls of the seagulls lingered, fading with every passing minute.

Down below, passengers waved handkerchiefs and hands, faces alight with excitement for the journey ahead. But Baekhyun’s gaze didn’t stray to the crowd. He was drawn to you, standing alone at the railing, a vision of life and light, your camera raised to capture the farewell. Your face was bright, the morning sun painting you in hues of gold, and you spoke softly into the lens, your voice and smile warm as you preserved the moment in time.

You were radiant, steady, and full of life—a version of you more at peace than he had ever seen.

Yet, as Baekhyun watched, he felt a weight sink into his chest. There was a part of you that now belonged to him, a quiet connection, an unbreakable thread woven between your souls.

His mark on you was invisible, but unmistakable—your skin gleamed with new vitality, your movements fluid with confidence, and there was an unmistakable calm within you.

But Baekhyun felt none of that peace. He could feel his own pulse, strained and uneasy, every muscle tense as he took in the sight of you—his heart was beating because of want he’s done to you. In giving you a part of himself, he had altered something pure and untouched within you, a gift he neither intended to give nor was proud of.

Watching you now, he knew he couldn’t undo it. You would carry that fragment of him forever, and the thought was as exhilarating as it was crushing.

Beside him, Chanyeol finally broke the silence.

He’d seen Baekhyun like this before, months ago, when the weight of his choices seemed too great for even him to bear. But the look in Baekhyun’s eyes was different now, a raw and silent longing tempered by something close to grief.

Chanyeol placed a hand on the railing, his voice soft yet steady.

“You might not like hearing this, Baekhyun… but you’re old.” he murmured, glancing at Baekhyun before looking back toward you. “And what you did…” he hesitated, his tone growing solemn “…she might get just as mad as you.”

Baekhyun’s eyes finally left you, meeting Chanyeol’s gaze with a mixture of exhaustion and determination. There was no room for denial now, no deflection or escape. The centuries he’d spent, the weight of his years, had worn on him, carved grooves into his soul that he could no longer ignore. A lifetime of restraint, of hiding his true self, had left him alone, forever a stranger on the edge of others’ lives. But now, with you, he’d crossed that line. And he couldn’t take it back.

“I’ll take care of her.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, though resolute.

Chanyeol studied him for a long moment, a quiet understanding in his eyes.

“I hope..” he replied slowly, his words a gentle warning “...that you can take care of yourself first.”

The ship’s horn sounded, a deep, resonant call that rippled across the water, as if echoing the weight of Baekhyun’s unspoken fears.

Yet in that moment, the distance between him and the shore, between you and him, felt wider than the sea itself. He wondered if he could bear it, if he could truly hold himself together when everything he wanted was just out of reach, sailing further from him with each passing second.

As he looked back toward you, a soft breeze lifted your hair, carrying it gently over your shoulders. You lowered the camera and turned looking up to the control room, catching his gaze, your expression soft, searching, as if you too felt the silent tension between you—even though you didn't know why.

The corners of your lips lifted in a quiet smile, one filled with questions, trust, and a quiet, unspoken understanding.

Baekhyun’s heart twisted as he nodded, forcing a faint smile in return. There were so many things he wanted to say, words that sat heavy on his tongue, words of apology, of desire, of regret. But he knew they would only complicate things, only deepen the fragile bond between you.

Instead, he turned back to the helm, gripping the wheel as though it were the only thing anchoring him to the present.

He knew he would take care of you. But he also knew that in doing so, he might be forever lost.

masterlist

[approximatelynothereorthere]

Broken Legs - Part 2

Bodhi Durran x OC (Evelyn Lyford) OC masterpost ☆ Masterlist

3.6k words ☆ Part 2 of 2 (but I may want to do a part 3 so lmk if you're interested) Part 1 here

This took waaaay longer to finish (I am in the middle of exams rn so I don't know what I was expecting) than I expected but it's finally here!!!

Warnings: Nimh being a bit murdery, description of mending a broken bone (not fun), references to some evie lore that may involve some childhood trauma (not specified), tiny mention of blood, bodhi being adorable, dain being a bit of an idiot

(please let me know if I missed anything)

“Good, you’re awake.” Is the first thing I hear as I open my eyes but that doesn’t make any sense because, even through my slightly bleary eyes, I can’t see anyone around. Aside from the first year in a bed at the other end of the room, who looks like she’s got a really bad cold and is a little high, there’s no one else here. Parker’s shift in the infirmary ended while I was asleep, if it’s the time I think it is, Nolan left quite quickly after he mended my legs and Bodhi eventually gave in to my insistence that I would fine if he left me for a bit to go to his classes. I take a quick look around the room just to make sure I’m not blatantly ignoring someone. I’m not, there’s no one else here. So what-

“Sometimes I question why I chose you when you’re this stupid.”

“Ah, hi Nimh.”

“How are the legs?” She asks. Greeting people normally is not something she finds easy so, the majority of the time, she just doesn’t make any attempts.

“They ache but, you know, not broken anymore so…”

Nolan had mended me earlier. Mending, a deceptive name for what he is able to do. Yes, he does technically mend but there’s a sort of gentleness to that word that does not translate to the actual process of mending bones. I hadn’t expected it either, I’d never broken a bone whilst in the quadrant before. My only experience with menders was with a cadet in the second wing, last year, who was one. She’d had a go at mending some bruises I’d received on the mat, nothing too major (I had won the match, after all) and easy enough for a first year who was only just learning to use their signet. The mending felt odd but not uncomfortable, it was warm and tingly like someone had just brushed their lips on my skin. But mending bone, that’s a whole other sensation. Less a sensation and more like something has spectacularly exploded and embedded itself into all the broken bits of bone to furiously jam them back together all while shockwaves from the explosion pulse through your nerves and make you wish you could just have broken legs forever and ever. Menders now terrify me. Imagine what they could do if they actually tried to hurt you.

Bodhi was with me the whole time. Like a single tent peg that’s managed to keep the flailing tent tethered to the ground in the middle of a hurricane. Holding my hands, in part, to counter me and also to comfort. To tether me to reality, be my rock, my anchor, my gravity.

He stayed for a little while after, still holding my hand, occasionally whispering soft little utterances, in Tyrrish (I’d asked him to teach me after I heard him speak it quietly to himself), to me. Until I realised he was missing History.

“What is your plan with the squad leader?” Nimh’s voice cuts through my thoughts sharply although there’s the tiniest hint in her tone that reminds me of when I would conspire with my best friend back home.

“Unfortunately it’s against the codex to kill him.”

“Not for me, it isn’t.” And she’s back to the bloodthirsty dragon I’m used to.

“I appreciate the offer but I’m not feeling up to taking over his responsibilities. It’s hard enough being his executive officer.” I reply as a new healer enters the infirmary to start their rounds. Shouldn’t be bad with a grand total of two people in their care at the moment.

“I had forgotten that it may affect your leadership position. Now I think we should definitely kill him.”

“No, we’re not killing him for… what is your obsession with power?”

“Why do you not want more power?” There’s a teasing lilt to her voice.

“Because this shit is difficult enough as it is.” I bite back. At the same time, two infantry cadets stumble into the infirmary. One with a jagged bleeding cut across his cheek and the other clutching his side like his internal organs are going to fall out. I highly doubt they are, I can’t even spot any blood. Though, that doesn’t rule out internal bleeding so I’ll let him off the hook for the dramatics. For now.

“And you are perfectly capable…” Right, I’m still having a conversation and… hang on-

“Whoa, is that a compliment?”

“You have ruined it now.” Nimh’s voice is now devoid of any emotion, making me smile a little.

“You still complimented me.”

“We still don’t have a plan for the squad leader.”

I see the healer take note of the infantry cadets and I swear she lets out a small exasperated sigh. I think she’s a first year. Huh, so much for an easy shift.

“Smooth topic change.”

“Plan.” Yep. There is not a single ounce of emotion in her voice now. My poor emotionally repressed dragon.

“How about I give him my notes on the first year's matches late?”

There’s silence from her end but I know she’s still listening.

“What? It’s Dain! That will drive him up the wall.”

Still, silence.

“I’ll do it for a full two months.”

“Better.”

“Are you going to do something to mess with Cath?”

“Obviously.”

“Are you gonna tell me what it is?”

“No.”

I guess I’ll find out when it happens then.

The first year has started to stitch up the cut on the first guy’s cheek. I’m fighting a small smirk that wants to form on my lips at his more than uncomfortable state.

Nimh’s voice creeps into my mind once again. “Enlighten me as to why you’re taking pleasure in this unknown man’s pain.”

Odd phrasing.

“I have my reasons.” She knows why, she just wants me to say it.

“Infantry?”

I’m half tempted not to reply and then fully tempted as the door opens allowing me to feign being distracted by the new visitor. The door appears to open on its own at first and I briefly consider the possibility of ghosts. I’m quickly starting to get bored in here.

To either my relief or disappointment, it’s not ghosts. It’s someone pushing the door open with their back. Someone tall with a dark head of curls holding a tray in their arms. They step away from the door letting it swing back to close and then pause momentarily. Warm brown searching eyes meet mine and instantly soften. I lift my hand from where it’s been resting on my side and give Bodhi a subtle wave. As if the floor is propelling him, he springs toward my bed with a small smile gracing his lips.

“Ah,” Nimh chuckles. “He’s here. That’s why your mind has gone all fuzzy.”

I ignore her and the sparkling navy presence in my mind ebbs away a little.

I can now see the items he’s holding that forced him to make his almost spectral entrance. Two plates piled with steaming food and a book. My book, which had been hastily turned upside down with the pages still open on my bedside table after Imogen violently banged on my door to get me out and down to breakfast on time. My book, which is now carefully placed on a tray in my boyfriend’s arms with a navy blue ribbon poking out the pages marking where I left off. He’s a godsdamn angel.

“Dinner is served milady.” he proclaims solemnly, placing the tray on the small wooden table to my left.

“Hello.”

“Hi. How are you feeling darling?” He sits in his chair from this morning and immediately grasps my hand to kiss it softly.

“Bored.”

He bites back a smile.

“Not quite what I meant. How are your legs?”

I let out a small sigh and squeeze his hand. “They feel alright, a bit achy but good.”

Bodhi hums in response, his too-pretty eyes flitting over to where the first year healer is still sorting out the two infantry cadets. “They gonna let you go tonight?”

“Not sure. I’ve only just woken up but I feel fine enough.” He nods. “You didn’t have to bring me dinner by the way.” I murmur whilst shifting myself into more of a sitting position.

“Yes, I did. You haven’t eaten all day and…” He hesitates though the words are on the tip of his tongue “I’ve also gone far too long without seeing you.”

I narrow my eyes at him but the corner of my mouth lifts slightly when I see how he’s still focused intensely on me like it’s his one and only purpose in life.

“You sap.”

“I’m very aware.” He states before shuffling forward in his seat slightly to take a plate and fork off of the tray. “Now, eat or I’ll feed you myself.” He leans over to pass them to me.

‘I’d like to see you try.’ I lift my chin a little.

“Oh yeah?” Before I can even register what’s happening Bodhi is reaching across with a fork aiming straight for my mouth. I duck and hide my face in the pillow resting behind me.

“That was not actually an invitation, Bodhi Durran! You ass!” I groan into the pillow and raise my hand to flip him off. He takes said hand in his own and pulls me by the arm away from the pillow. My eyes are shut, he doesn’t deserve to be looked at after pulling that, but I can hear him laughing. Quiet little fits of giggles at my perfectly valid reaction to him trying to feed me like I’m a petulant child. I fold my arms over my chest, opening my eyes slowly as if that will prepare me for another fork attack. He’s stopped laughing now but his face is lit up in a smile that causes the skin around the outer corner of his eyes to crease a little. I take the plate from him avoiding eye contact so I don’t accidently contract a strain of his infectious smile. Staring straight at the plate in my lap seems the best option at the moment. My stomach rumbles at the sight in front of me. I am fucking starving.

“How was your day anyway?” I ask in between mouthfuls.

I hear him chuckle slightly before answering. “Fine. Good. Well, not good. I missed you.”

At that, I do look at him, eyebrows raised, corner of my mouth lifting.

“Hey, I wasn’t the only one.” He defends. “Imogen was in a foul mood today. I’d say she missed you too.”

“Imogen’s always in a foul mood. That means nothing.” I point out as he takes the other plate on the tray and begins eating. Something in Bodhi’s eyes shifts.

“Well,” he begins. “she was excessively pissed about something but she wouldn’t say what…” he trails off, looking at me pointedly.

I bite my lip and slowly put down my fork as I realise what he’s getting at. He still doesn’t know what happened. Probably still thinks someone’s out there waiting to try and kill me again which they aren’t. No one tried to kill me in the first place but his adorable yet seriously paranoid ass likely thinks they did. I did get knocked off the top of my dragon and only broke both of my legs, after all.

“Look…” I start but then-

“Hey! Sorry if I’m interrupting. I just need to do a couple checks and then I think I can go get one of my professors to discharge you.” It’s the first year, oblivious to the heavy cloud of awkwardness that is hovering above Bodhi and me.

I turn to her with a smile. That's my best attempt at not being awkward but pretending I’m fine when I’m not has never been my strong suit. “Yeah. Sure whatever you need to do.”

And she’s off straightening out my legs and staring at them as if she can see through the skin to the newly mended bone. She notes something down on the clipboard she’s holding and then turns to me again.

“I need to see how you’re walking now so if you want to get up and just walk to the other side of the room.”

I nod and start to get up out of the bed, swinging my legs to one side and letting my feet touch the floor. I can feel the cold through my socks and it sends a small shiver up my body. Bodhi reaches out a hand to pull me up and I take it without hesitation. His hands are warm and comforting like always, unless he’s been outside without gloves for too long, and his thumb brushes over the back of my hand like it’s muscle memory by now. He doesn’t say anything though. I doubt he will until I start talking. I glance at his face briefly, there’s a small crease between his eyebrows and his eyes look far away like their souls have wandered off into the depths of his mind. He’s shut down, worrying, wondering why I haven’t told him what happened. And, honestly, I am too. He’s my boyfriend for fucks sake.

The second Bodhi lets go of my hand to allow me to walk, I’m cold all over again and there’s a bone-deep ache in my legs that makes me wince.

The healer- I really should ask her name- notices and helpfully adds “It might hurt a bit but we’re just checking everything’s back in the right place and not causing massive amounts of pain. However, if anything does feel wrong, say.”

I take a breath and step forward. One foot in front of the other. It hurts but only because I feel a bit stiff. The sharp stabs I felt this morning are long gone. I turn around when I make it to the other side of the room and the first year is right back to making a note on her clipboard. She looks up quickly and says “Okay, I can go get one of my professors and you’ll be good to go.”

Five minutes later, I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, tying the laces on my boots as Bodhi puts our half-eaten dinner plates back on the tray next to my untouched book. He’s moving slowly, his mind still far away, worrying when he shouldn’t be. I can’t take this anymore.

“It was an accident.” I blurt.

Bodhi looks at me with furrowed brows. “What?”

“The whole falling off Nimh thing. No one was trying to kill me like I know you think they did.”

He opens his mouth to say something.

“No. Let me finish. I was standing at the top of Nimh’s leg, about to dismount, when another dragon was coming into the flight field a little too low. They went straight over Nimh and me and the gust blew me off. They didn’t mean to be flying that low over us. It was an accident. No one is trying to kill me, and it most certainly wasn’t because of you.”

He nods slowly and then quickly sits beside me on the bed. His soft brown eyes meet mine and he says “You’re sure? Because if someone was-”

“I’m sure. Stop worrying baby.”

I take Bodhi’s hands in mine and a wide grin lights up the rest of his face.

“What?” I ask and his grin gets impossibly wider.

“You never call me that in public.” He teases whilst pulling my arms up so my hands will rest on the back of his neck.

I look anywhere but him and blood rushes into my cheeks.

“Wha- there are, like, three people in here. That doesn’t count.”

His hands find their way to my side, pulling me closer, and he leans down a little so we’re face to face. I’m still not letting myself look at him.

“Uh huh. You keep telling yourself that.” He murmurs before pressing his lips firmly onto mine. I kiss him back and pull him closer as sparks shoot up my spine. Bodhi smiles into the kiss and after a moment, in the biggest turn of the century, pulls away first.

“You also never let kisses last that long in public.” He adds.

I groan and drop my forehead onto his chest.

“Are you complaining?”

“No. No, definitely not.” He chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of my head.

Then a thought comes to me. A stupid thought, an utterly ridiculous thought but still, now it’s in my head and there’s only one way to get it out.

“Is this your way of saying you’re mad at me?” I mumble into his chest. I can barely hear myself say it, I’m half expecting Bodhi to innocently ask me to repeat myself but from the way he freezes and his hands grip harder at my sides, I know he heard me.

“Why on earth would you think that?” His voice is quiet, too quiet. I lift my head to look at him. His eyes are wide, the rest of his face frozen in an expression that is not dissimilar to that of a kicked puppy.

I feel like a bucket of ice water has been tipped over me and in my most pathetic voice I say, “I didn’t tell you what happened, made you worry the whole day.”

Bodhi looks at me in sheer disbelief and lifts a hand to my face, brushing a thumb over my cheekbone. “Oh Evie, no never. I don’t think it’s actually possible for me to be mad at you, ever.”

I nod carefully and let my hands smooth over his chest. I’m not saying anything, not until the stupidity of my question washes away.

“What I am mad about though,” he continues as if that utterance was never going to make my heart rate increase exponentially. “is that I brought your book all the way here so I could read to you and now you’re getting discharged before I can even suggest it.”

Warmth spreads through my body and before I can properly think about it I’m wrapping my arms around his torso and laying my head against his chest.

“Fuck, I love you.” Tumbles from my lips and everything in me just stops functioning because there goes another thing I don’t do in public. At least, not so loudly because I’m pretty sure I was close to shouting there.

“You are on a roll with these public displays of affection today.” Bodhi teases, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me even closer so I’m practically in his lap. I glare up at him but don’t make an attempt to move away. I honestly wouldn’t care if the entire quadrant came in and saw us like this. Something has to be wrong with me.

“Okay sorry, but while we’re on the theme of asking silly questions, well I’m more just curious… Was it Aetos?” He asks so casually that I almost don’t realise what he’s said, too lost in the rhythm of his heart beating by my ear.

“How the fuck does he know that?” I ask Nimh, who’s been easing herself back into my mind, no doubt spying so she can mercilessly mock me later.

“Not a clue, I haven’t told Cuir anything.” She sounds extremely amused, I can practically hear her smirk if dragons can even do that. Well, only one way to find out now.

“How the fuck do you know that?”

I try to angle my head to look at him but it’s not really possible without moving from my very comfortable position, which I very much do not want to do. Bodhi begins to slowly use one of his hands to caress my back, lighting a trail of sparks along my spine.

“Dain kept looking guiltily at the spot you’d usually sit in during Battle Brief, so I guessed he’s got something to do with it.” He states. “Originally I had thought he had just seen it happen and felt bad, I didn’t think he would’ve been the one to cause it because at the time I thought someone wanted to kill you and he can’t kill you without breaking the codex and we all know how he feels about that. But now… well, I’ve seen how much he likes to make those dramatic ass landings with his dragon.”

I smile a little at that.

“He did have a bit of a panic when he saw me go down and he offered to help. I did then tell him if he stepped any closer there would be a dagger embedded in his chest.”

Bodhi laughs, the sound making my heart flutter, and he kisses the top of my head again. “That’s my girl.” He says into my hair and I instinctively move closer into his chest.

“Okay, seriously what happened? Did they give you too many painkillers or something? Because this never happens outside of our rooms unless you’re really sleepy?” He genuinely questions.

“Not sleepy,” I state. “I think it might be because I was so scared of poisoning you earlier. Like, I’m overcompensating or something. Maybe I just don’t give a fuck anymore, want people to see you’re mine.”

And apparently, I have no filter anymore either because I even shocked myself with that last admission. Bodhi just holds me even tighter and mutters something in Tyrrish that I can’t quite pick up.

After a minute of comfortable silence, I ask, “Could I stay in your room tonight and you could read to me?”

“I was just about to suggest that, darling.”

Thank you so much for reading this and please let me know what you think!

I am currently working on something for Aaric and also Ridoc (eventually I'll get round to all the FW boys) so look out for that if you're interested.

Also my inbox is open if anyone wants to ask questions about my OC's or just FW in general because I love talking about it.

[duskvsdawn]

Hi! Could I request 3 and 25 with Shu, please? Thank you so much!! I really enjoy your writing!!

≫ A/N: Hey, of course :) I decided to combine the two of them, because somehow it just seemed right? I hope that's okay :)

CW: female reader, smut after angst, reader gets chased by a gang that has ill intentions (mentions of them wanting to rape you), Shu takes care of them and it gets gory, Shu takes you to his home afterwards, where he comforts you. Shu is a bit worried and depressed about losing you. You eventually end up in his bed, where you give him your very first time, even though that part is smutty, it's so sweet it gives me diabetes as I'm writing it.

Art credits.

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If you like my works, please like, comment and reblog! It is much appreciated ❤ And if you really enjoyed it, please follow me so you can be kept up to date on future uploads! Please do not re-upload, translate, or use for AI training.

My world would be empty without you

It was late at night when you were walking home after you had been at a club with your friends. You were all dolled up, and you did feel a bit exposed, but not too bad. At least, not so far. You had assured your friends it would be fine since the walk to your house wasn't that far. This part of town could be dangerous for women who walked home alone, but you had never been harassed before. Until today.

You walked past an alleyway where a group of men were hanging out. They craned their heads to look at you and catcalled you to hell and back. But then, anxiety rose in you even more when you noticed they started following you. You tried to take a massive detour to your house to hopefully shake them off, but they kept following you. The panic increased when a few of them had gotten even closer to you, making comments about how "you're such a hot piece of ass" and "they would rape you until you bled". In your panic, you decided to call your boyfriend, Shu.

"Shu... I am being followed by a group of men. And they don't mean well in the slightest," you said as your voice hitched, trying to hold back tears of anxiety. "I'll be right there. Don't worry, love, I'll take care of it," your boyfriend replied, and then he hung up. You looked at your phone in confusion, but you knew he would be there in a flash. And you were right. After just a tiny bit more walking, Shu suddenly teleported next to you, kind of catching you off guard, but when you saw it was him, relief instantly washed over you.

The two of you stood still and turned around. The men just looked at Shu like some sort of god had descended upon them, but at the same time, they knew it wasn't in their favour. Shu's beautiful purple eyes started to glow as his flames appeared behind him. Two of the men swallowed with difficulty and were getting ready to run. But Shu wasn't going to let them go anywhere.

"So... You think you can harass my girl, hm? Tell you what, you caught me in a bad mood. You are not getting out of here alive," your boyfriend said as he raised one hand. It was so strange to see your usually quiet and composed boyfriend like this, but you meant the world to him, and he wasn't going to let these guys get away with it. One of the guys turned around to start running, but with his raised hand, Shu pulled him back towards himself and threw him against a wall nearby with so much force that the dude pretty much exploded. The others had a feeling they wouldn't survive this, but they still ran towards Shu to try and take him down. Shu raised his hands once more and aimed at one of the men, twisting them to snap the man's neck. He threw one of the men up so high and then let him fall to the ground, dying on impact when he hit the streets below. Only one more man left, and he stood no chance. Shu moved him closer, and, balling his fist, the guy's head exploded.

You were both covered in blood, and the scene before you was so grotesque that you were close to passing out. Shu snapped his fingers, and all the blood and bodies were gone, as if nothing had ever happened. He then turned around to face you and wrapped his arms around you.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, my love. I just get really angry when people mess with you. I'm sorry I lost my cool because of it," the sorcerer said with an apologetic smile as he kissed the tip of your nose. You sniffled into his shoulder, not sure if it was all the built-up tension leaving you, the fact that your boyfriend would go to such lengths for you, or both. "I don't feel safe going home now... Can I... Can I sleep at your place tonight?" you asked as you wiped the tears from your eyes. "Of course, my love. Take my hand. I will take us home," your boyfriend replied. You did as he asked, and when you did, he teleported both of you over to his house.

The two of you ended up in his living room, on the couch. Shu went to get you some water as you sat there on the couch, trying to process everything that had just happened. You had never seen Shu so... Unhinged before. But you felt honoured that you meant so much to him that he would literally kill anyone who would even want to hurt you in any way, shape or form. Shu came back with the water and sat down next to you after he had handed it to you. You downed it all in one go, and the two of you just sat there in awkward silence for a little bit. You couldn't believe that the sorcerer did all of that, but when you were about to say something about it, your boyfriend spoke up.

"I don't know what came over me. Seeing you in danger, I just got so angry... I'm normally not like this at all. But I can't have you hurt. You mean the world to me, and seeing you get hurt and not doing anything about it would absolutely kill me..." your boyfriend said as he was holding back tears, the thoughts of losing you plaguing his mind. "Maybe we should go to bed. I think this is enough excitement for one evening..." you said, trying to lighten the mood. Your boyfriend hummed in response, and the both of you headed up the stairs. You threw off your dress as you borrowed one of Shu's shirts to sleep in. You washed the makeup off your face, and you lay down next to him. Your boyfriend was staring at the ceiling, hands folded under his head, the thoughts of seeing you hurt not leaving him anytime soon. You cuddled up to your boyfriend, putting your head on his chest as you left a kiss on it.

"I admit, it was all a bit scary. But really, thank you. Thank you for protecting me. I have no idea what would have happened if you weren't there, but I know it would have been much more traumatising than seeing you absolutely slaughter those guys," you said, leaving another kiss on his chest before burying your face in his neck to smell his scent. Musky, calming, and comforting. Eventually, the sorcerer wrapped his arms around you and left a kiss on the top of your head.

"I love you, reader. I love you so much. If only I could properly show you how much I love you..." your boyfriend whispered the last part, trailing off. You lifted your head to look at him questioningly, wondering what he meant by that. "Properly show me?" you parroted, and your boyfriend nodded in response. Your boyfriend took a deep breath before speaking up. "I... I would really love to show you how much I truly love you... If you... If you get what I mean..." the sorcerer said as he turned his head away from you, a blush appearing on his face. The gears in your head started turning, and then you realised what he had meant by saying that. You blushed just as much as him at this point, trying to come up with words, but random stutters were all you managed.

"I... I can imagine you wouldn't possibly want to even think about this tonight. It's been eventful for sure. and uh... I also know it would be your first time. But when you are ready, I would love to give you all the love I have to give to you," your boyfriend said, barely above a whisper. You had no idea what came over you, but you started leaving more kisses on his chest and some on his neck and face as well. Shu gently took hold of your head and kissed you deeply. Deeply and hungrily after all the other kisses you had left on his body. You sat on top of your boyfriend, leaning over to share an intense and intimate French kiss.

"You know... We really don't have to do this now. I don't want you to feel forced into doing something you're not comfortable with," your boyfriend said, as one hand reached up to tuck some hair behind your ear. "I... I want to do this for you. I'm really nervous, but I know you will make it awesome. I'm not afraid of pain or discomfort, because if it happens, I know it will get better after some time. Every first for anything can be scary, but I know it will be okay," you said with a loving smile as you left another kiss on his neck. Your boyfriend nodded and asked you to lie down on your back for him, and you did as you were asked.

"Hmm, I wonder... How far have you gone on your own before?" your boyfriend asked you as he lifted the shirt up to under your breasts so he could leave some kisses on your stomach. "I, uh... I have done quite a few things on my own, so it isn't entirely new to me... But, uh... I've never had anything bigger than fingers inside of me before," you said with a massive blush as you looked down at your boyfriend. You decided to give him more of a view, so you sat up to take off the shirt, and it landed on the bed next to you. "That's good to know," your boyfriend said as his mouth found your nipple to suck on it. "Then it shouldn't be too painful for you," your boyfriend continued as his other hand gently twisted your other nipple. You threw your head back since a mouth on your nipple was definitely new to you. You didn't have much to offer in the boob department, but Shu didn't mind in the slightest, touching them and sucking on them, basically worshipping them.

"How about we take these off?" your boyfriend asked as he hooked his fingers underneath the hem of your panties. You nodded your head and lifted your butt so he could pull them down, landing next to his own shirt. "I want to see more of you, too..." you whispered as your own fingers hooked underneath the elastic of Shu's sweatpants. The sorcerer hummed in response and got busy taking his pants off. You had seen him in just underwear before, and it wasn't the first time you had seen or felt his boner through it either, since the two of you had cuddled up in his or your bed plenty of times, sometimes getting a bit handsy.

"What do you want me to do, sweetheart?" Shu asked as he got between your legs, letting a single digit run up your folds. "Want... Want to feel your mouth... please..." you whispered as your hands found his hair and you let his raven locks run through your fingers. Your boyfriend chuckled and said, "You got it, princess." Your boyfriend licked up and down your folds, occasionally taking your clit in his mouth to suck on it. You threw your head back as your grip on his hair tightened. His tongue felt like heaven against your folds, and his lips around your clit felt like absolute bliss. To make it even better, two fingers entered you to rub at your g-spot. With his fingers inside of you and his lips wrapped around your clit, it wouldn't take you long to slowly but surely get closer and closer. Your moans became higher in pitch, and your grip on his locks tightened once more, pulling on them hard. Your boyfriend took it as a sign that he was doing a good job, so he kept doing the exact same thing to hopefully push you over the edge soon. Trapping his head between your thighs, you let out a strangled moan as you came all over his lower face. The muscles in your body relaxed as your head fell back once more, and you struggled to catch your breath.

Your boyfriend crawled up to eye level with you to leave some gentle kisses on your jawline. "How do you feel, darling?" your boyfriend asked you as he got busy with sucking a hickey beneath your ear. "Feels so good..." you replied, slightly slurred due to the afterglow taking you over. "But I want more of you. Want you to feel good too..." you continued as you gently took his face in your hands to leave a hungry kiss on your boyfriend's lips. Your boyfriend chuckled and asked you if you were ready for more. You whispered a soft "yes" as your answer. Shu knew you were on the pill, but he wanted to ask you if you wanted him to use a condom anyway. "No, that's okay. I want to feel all of you..." you replied with a dreamy sigh, thinking about how good it was going to feel to have him inside of you, and to have his cum paint your walls white. You were getting ahead of yourself, but you knew all your dreams were coming true soon enough.

Your boyfriend moved between your legs after taking off his underwear. You looked at his dick and curiously admired it for a little bit. It looked so smooth and beautiful to you, the tip a pretty pink colour with precum seeping out of it. You wondered what it would taste like. Shu saw you staring at him as he was chewing his bottom lip, the curious and enthusiastic glint in your eyes so motivating to him. "Whatcha looking at, darling? Do you want to touch it?" your boyfriend asked as he took one of your hands in his and guided it down his body. You sat up so you could reach him better, gently wrapping your hand around his member. Shu let out a shaky breath as you started moving your hand up and down, motivating you by saying, "That's it darling... Mmm feels good... But I know it will feel even better inside of you." Your blush spread to your ears when those words left his lips as your index finger played with the slit to collect some precum on it. You brought your finger closer to your mouth to lick it clean. It was an... Interesting taste. It wasn't gross per se, but it definitely didn't taste that great either.

Your boyfriend chuckled when he saw your face contort into several different expressions, saying, "Don't worry darling, in due time you will get used to the taste. Now then, I think it's about time we go for the main course, what do you think? Because I know I can't wait any longer." the sorcerer said as he gently pushed you on your back again, getting between your legs once more. You nodded and wrapped your arms around your lover to pull him closer to you. Your boyfriend rubbed his dick on your folds a few times to collect some slick, and then proceeded to slowly push inside of you. A gasp left your mouth as you felt you were being stretched so far, you had no idea it would ever even fit in there. When your boyfriend bottomed out, he asked you if it hurt and if you were okay. "No, it doesn't really hurt. It does feel kind of strange, though. But it feels so good already, and you've barely even done anything," you say with a shaky exhale of breath as you pull the sorcerer even closer to you. "Please move... I want more, please..." you plead, and your boyfriend is happy to oblige.

Shu starts with some shallow thrusts at first, constantly keeping a close eye on your expressions to see if you're okay. Soon enough, your face contorts into a pleasured expression, and you beg him to give you even more. He'll let you get away with bossing him around this once, but next time, he is going to straight up ruin you the second he enters you. As the sorcerer's thrusts become even deeper and faster, your moans get even louder, and the grip on his back becomes tighter. He can feel the delicious sting of your nails digging into his back, and in this moment, he feels so connected to you. He feels the happiest he has ever felt, with you in his arms, showing each other the ultimate act of pure devotion, and he feels honoured that he is allowed to be your first. Words of adoration and pure love keep spilling from his lips.

"I love you so much... You feel so good, my love... You feel so, so good... Gosh, I love you so darn much... My world would be nothing without you..." Your boyfriend keeps gushing as he leaves heated kisses and nibbles on your neck. You can do nothing but reply with moans of pure ecstasy as you keep telling him how much you love him, too. The sound of skin slapping combined with the words he speaks to you between moans makes it all that much more intense for you, and you can feel you are getting closer to the edge. Your boyfriend notices that your moans become more desperate, but he wants to give you the most intense orgasm he can. One hand sneaks in between the two of you, a slender finger playing with your clit for extra stimulation. Your moans become impossibly louder, and your orgasm approaches you like a freight train as you wrap your legs even tighter around his hips, essentially trapping him between your legs. The sorcerer's hips begin to stutter as he approaches his own orgasm, licking and biting at your ear to give you that final tiny push you needed. With a scream of his name, you fall apart, your release so intense that you cover his hips with it. Seeing you cum so hard was your boyfriend's undoing, unloading himself inside of you with a desperate moan of your name. Your boyfriend ever so elegantly collapses on top of you, continuously whispering how much he loves you like a mantra. It felt a bit heavy with the sorcerer on top of you, but at the same time, it felt so comforting and pleasant. Your legs landed back on the bed as you kept holding him tightly in your arms.

"Did I do okay?" your boyfriend asked you as he left a loving kiss on top of your nose. "Are you fucking kidding me? This was... absolutely perfect..." you admitted as you kissed his lips with all the love you could. Your boyfriend got off of you, pulling out of you as he did so, to lie down next to you. You turned on your flank to be the little spoon, and your boyfriend quickly slotted himself against you after he wrapped both of you in his blanket. A satisfied sigh left your mouth as you told your boyfriend how much you loved him and thanked him once more for everything he did for you tonight. "You are so incredibly welcome, my love. I would do anything for you, always. My world would be empty without you," your boyfriend replied as he left some gentle kisses on your shoulder blade.

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

NATALIAAAAAAAAAA

Hewwo :3

Might I make a request from my first nemesis????

I simply yearn for a Hero whumpee with a yandere Villain. Please pile on as many extra tropes as you like, and even extra, platonic yanderes if you feel like it! You can't go wrong with some good bridal carries, restraints, drugging, and spoiling poor Hero :3

Huffleeee! Girl, I am so sorry as to just how ridiculously late this is, but finally I finished it. I hope you enjoy it! Also, first snippet of 2025, happy new year < 3

My Hero

TW: Blood, injury, restraints, drugging, yandere villain, unconsciousness

Run. Because it was the only thing the hero could do. He was essentially stuck between a rock and a bad place, trying to sustain the least amount of injuries possible from the hailstorm of bullets and debris. 

Missions going awry was an occupational hazard, but this degree of utter chaos wasn't something the hero had accounted for. He usually knew how to contain any messes that could've happened.

There was blood seeping down his cheek, mixing in with dust and sweat that was enough to make his eyes burn. He wasn't even sure how far he'd made it, his muscles aching and burning with exhaustion. He'd never run from danger before, cursing himself and his luck in the process, and yet what else was there?

The roar that came next was deafening, flame erupted near the hero, an angry orange blooming around him close enough that he could feel the heat and start to cough up smoke, but not the fire licking his skin just yet. Glass from a building nearby exploded into tiny smithereens, raining onto the crimefighter and drawing sharp, painful brushstrokes of crimson all over his face and exposed skin from the tattered suit. The whole world was spinning too fast, and the ground swayed underneath his feet as he collapsed face-first into a pile of rubble and glass, his consciousness stolen by a pitch black oblivion. 

The fact that he was even awake was a miracle in itself. His shredded clothes had been switched out for a clean linen shirt and pants, and he was lying on a soft surface, the excruciating pain he was supposed to be in nowhere to be found. The only thing that was wrong with his current situation was the soft leather restraints fixing his ankles to the bed. They were loose enough that he could sit up, but not so much that he could get off the bed.

The door opened, soft footsteps padding in. A woman of about his age with wavy, light brown hair and a mask around her eyes took a seat next to the bed. The villain. 

“You’re up. That’s good,” she said with a strangely pleasant smile. “I just need you to answer a few questions for me, Hero.” 

“And if I don’t?” he challenged, raising a questioning eyebrow. 

The villain’s smile was all teeth. “Do you even know what the questions are before you get so impulsive, darling?” 

The hero didn’t say a word, locking eyes with her, a hint of defiance in his gaze. 

“Do you remember most people you save, Hero?” she questions, her tone hushed and urgent. 

His brow furrowed a little. The question was personal, but it wasn't about classified information or anything that people usually wanted from him. “Why?” 

The villain was still smiling, but it was rigid, irritated. “That doesn't answer my question, dear.” 

He knew he couldn't fight back much without getting free of his restraints, and this question, at its core, was harmless, like something he might've told a reporter on an interview once. And it was a good distraction from what he was trying to do. 

“It depends. I try to talk to them, if I have any time, so they don't feel like some object I've picked up. But I only remember bits and pieces of very short interactions.” 

“But everyone you've ever saved would definitely remember you.” 

The hero's gaze flits up from where it was, having managed to find the lock. The villain peeled the mask away, staring at him with nothing short of admiration. 

He didn't remember much about her in particular, but he knew he'd seen before, saved her from a burning building, which probably explained why during every fight they had, the villain had seemed so strangely familiar.

At least he could make sense of why he was in a bed, his wounds wrapped snugly in bandages instead of on the floor of some dirty cell, being tortured for intel. The setting seemed strangely benign 

“What was the objective of your mission, Hero?” The villain's smile sharpened, staring through him like he was transparent. 

“I'm not answering. You can't torture it out of me if you tried.” 

The villain's laugh was hollow as she pulled a strand of hair away from her face.

“What truly fascinates me is how the agency managed to earn your loyalty,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, inching closer to the hero. His shirt was mostly open, her hand managing to find a scar a little below his chest, not quite fresh and not quite old from a particularly brutal “training session”.

“They don't treat you well, do they?” And the villain presses her hand deeper into the hero's skin, and he couldn't help but shiver. He hated how vulnerable he seemed, splayed open in front of the villain like a gutted fish. 

But he wasn't anything, if not ruthlessly stubborn. He flashed her a dangerous smile, sitting up a little straighter in bed. “Scars are an occupational hazard.” 

“I've seen what they do to their heroes, no matter how picture-perfect they are. What, do you think I leave things up to chance, darling?” 

The hero's brow furrowed, his lips getting pulled into a thin, hard line. She was clearly trying to find some chip in his armour, hammering away at it until he crumbled into nothing. Did she expect him to burst into tears at being reminded of the torture masquerading as training he went through almost everyday? Bloodied scratches, being forced to exhaust himself until he threw up, repeating everything all over again if he dared to mess up. These wounds were too old, the sting too familiar. 

“Why do you care? What do you want?” He was growing impatient, his tone clipped and his eyes narrowing. 

The villain's lips curved upwards into a strangely soft smile, her eyes growing brighter. “You,” she whispered softly, leaning down, gripping the nightstand with one hand.

The hero tried for a few false starts, his eyes wide, his breath catching in his throat.

“This whole mission, you getting injured, every little detail was my doing. Didn't I tell you I hate leaving this to chance, sweetness?” 

The fingers of her free hand wrapped tightly around the collar of his shirt, and the hero felt himself shrink back in spite of himself. 

“What?” The hero's tongue had barely formed the word, his mind racing in a million different directions. But no matter, he had to get out of here now and reminisce on this later.

Except the villain laughed again, mildly amused by the hero's feeble attempts at clawing at his restraints, before producing a syringe with an unassuming transparent liquid inside and promptly stabbing it into the hero's flesh. 

And in mere seconds he was drowning in pitch black, his thoughts muddled together in his consciousness evaporating into nothing. 

Sometimes the difference between a dream and a nightmare is a moment in time; a turning point that transforms bliss into torture. But the only reassurance a nightmare offers is no matter how horrific, you are bound to wake up. 

Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @a-fucking-simp-00 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @adamswrongchild @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @m3rakii @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername @pendarling @avloki-pal @kaiwewi @those-damn-snippets @genuinelythioehat-is-whump @ghostofnorth @dragonmine-244 @detectivepetrichor @orangeduckweed @red-sigma-vampire-boss6969 @alexii117 @prophecies-bestowed-upon-ye @alphabet-egg

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

[trashisstillhere]

In a friend’s arms.

What better place to be dying than in a friend’s arms?

A short (?) NN (New Ninja) AU related fanfic. (I was only gonna show the drawing that is in this but then I was like: “why not make a quick fanfic for it as well? :)” and now we’re here)

Warning: lots of blood mentioned, a near death experience, angst. Lots and lots of angst, yummy 😋 oh and a bit of terrible writing lol

…….

Another robot attack has just happened at Norrisville high today.

But this time, it didn’t end so safely.

This one certain robot ended up suddenly exploding inside of the building, destroying almost everything. There was some left over slime on some places, burning, similar to acid.

Thankfully, Randy was able to get every single student and teacher out of there before it all happened. So everyone was safe and sound. that was a good thing!

But what wasn’t a good thing is that the other ninja, Nobu, seemed to be missing, Martin was the one to quickly notice that.

Feeling concerned, he tried calling out their name, hoping to at least hear their voice or have them suddenly appear all okay behind him or just anything! Yet there wasn’t a single answer, making the jock get even more concerned.

His ears slightly perked up when he heard the other ninja being mentioned by Lora who seemed to be telling Randy something involving them. A little curious, Martin listened to their conversation.

Apparently Lora, along with Ellie, were with Nobu (the other ninja) who were trying to help the two get out of the school to get to safety as well. But then their way was blocked by the robot and it looked like it was turning bright red, like it was about to self destruct.

Right at that moment, the little ninja had wrapped their scarves around the two girls and quickly ,yet as softly as possible, threw them outta there right before the big explosion happened….

That sent a huge wave of dread through Martin.

Before he knew it, his legs were suddenly moving on their own. He went, RAN for his life towards the destroyed building without stopping. Randy was surprised to see the jock suddenly run off like that, seeing how he quickly moved over some rubble before getting inside.

“Ma- r-random jock! Get back here!! You can’t- !!”

But the ninja’s words were ignored. The only thing in Martin’s mind right now was Nobu, the other ninja, his best friend, who might be in big danger right now. He had to go find them, he HAD to.

“Please, please, please, please, please, please-“

He kept repeating under his breath as he ran and ran…

Until he finally stopped in his tracks right when he noticed something wet on the cracked floor, with a familiar awful smell that stunk from it….almost like metal..

Wait a minute…that’s…that’s BLOOD!?

Martin gasped and looked up to see where the blood was coming from.

And what he saw only made the dread he felt grow and take over completely.

There was his best friend, lying against one of the ruined lockers, looking ‘ruined’ themselves. They seemed to bleed from their head, some blood leaking down their mouth, even their chest was bleeding too, along with a few noticeable bruises here and there.

What was worse was that the lower half of their ninja suit was almost completely destroyed and gone, their normal clothes that was underneath the fabric and now shown ripped a few places. It seems like the acid like slime got to them as well, a few tiny spots of it next to them. (And some scraps from the former alive robot too.)

“NOBU!!!”

Martin immediately went over to Nobu’s side and right down on his knees, getting a better look at all the injuries the little ninja had. He gently wrapped his arms around them, slowly and carefully bringing them a bit closer to him.

“Oh no…no no no no no!!… Nobu! Nobu, wake up!”

He was already panicking over this, slightly shaking the small guy in his arms. He only stopped once he saw them slowly start opening their eyes, a groan leaving their bloodied lips that were also revealed due to their mask having been kinda ripped too.

“M….M-Martin?…”

“N-Nobu!! Oh thank goodness you’re still alive!! What the juice were you thinking!?”

“W-what?…”

Tears were already starting to form in Martin’s eyes. “I heard what you did! Getting Lora and Ellie out of the school, leaving yourself behind just before that robot exploded and destroyed the place!! You literally just tried sacrificing yourself!! W-why!?…”

Nobu’s eyes slightly widened at that, sadly looking down for a second. “….i-it…was either that or letting two s-students get possibly killed….” Their eyes looked back up into the jocks, a hint of bravery in them. “And…..I chose the first o-option….because I’m the ninja, it’s my job….to help and save the innocent! The Nomicon told me t-that…!”

They coughed out a bit of blood after responding, a quiet whimper leaving them afterwards due to the pain it brought. Martin’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips trembling a little.

“Just because you’re the ninja, does not mean you can j-just…Recklessly throw yourself into danger like this! Get yourself killed!! I don’t care what that h-honking book said! You aren’t just the ninja! you’re Nobu Chiharu-Sirius! A guy who is so kind and cool, an amazing human being, a child of two wonderful parents, a good friend….m-my…my friend…..my best friend!!!….”

Nobu felt a few tears land on the top of their head, suprised to see how much their jock friend was crying right now…

oh what are they thinking, of course he was! They were literally dying in his arms right now.

“I….i don’t want to lose you, Nobu….i…I don’t w-want you to die!!”

That hit right where it hurts (emotionally), the little ninja could have sworn that their heart broke right at that part. “Martin…”

Sniffles and sobs were heard from the jock as the tears kept running down his cheeks, it was a sad sight. Not liking seeing him like this, Nobu slowly lifted up one hand and placed it right on his hand that was currently placed on their bleeding chest, giving it a tight yet gentle grip, squeezing it a bit.

“Martin…listen to me….I’m not going to die, okay?….as you said, I’m still…a-alive!…no matter what happens out there, I’ll a-always…survive…..”

Martin looked back at his injured bff again, seeing the soft and reassuring gaze and smile they tried to give him. Yet the way they both seemed so weak, with the blood running down in between their eyes and some still on their lips, only made him want to cry even more.

“Martin….please….dont cry….I’m fine….” Now it was the small guys turn to cry. “I’m going to be okay….i…I won’t…won’t….die…”

The jock could hear the small ninjas voice start to get a little slower and almost quiet the more they tried to speak, he could also see how their eyes were….slowly closing.

“N-Nobu? Nobu, no! J-just hold on, buddy! J-just hold on!! Don’t close y-your eyes, please!!!”

‘No, no, no. This cannot be happening! Not now! Not like this!’

“Martin….”

He heard his name being said again, in such a weaker and broken tone of voice that didn’t help him with his emotions at all.

“….thank…you…..for being…one o-of my…first friends in this…school….ever…”

And then soon, there was silence.

“….Nobu?..”

Everything around Martin suddenly became a blur, the only one thing still clear to see was his now unconscious (he was REALLY hoping it was just that) and badly hurt best friend. He just still sat there on his knees, still holding his little buddy in his arms, close to him like he refused to let go.

It was like the jock’s mind and senses were trying to block everything, the sounds around him becoming almost barely audible, static even.

Though he did hear a few things, such as two familiar voices.

“Martin!! Why did you- wait, Is that…KID!?”

“Swiss cheese, there’s so much blood!!! I-Is it all coming from them!?”

“No, No! Nobu!! Kid, o-oh god!….you’re bleeding so much! A-and your ninja suit…..Martin?…!….Howard, make sure no one sees the kid like this! We have to help them! NOW!!!!”

“D-don’t have to tell me twice!!….oh Kid, please be-“

Yet they were soon covered by a loud ringing noise.

Martin could feel his entire body now shaking, his face now hiding itself onto the top of Nobu’s head.

“Nobu……Nobu….”

————————————-

Tfw you just watched your first best friend slowly dying in your arms for the first time.

A canon event I fear.. 😚✌️

(AND NO NOBU/NN ISN’T ACTUALLY DEAD, THEY’RE FINE DONT WORRY! I KNOW I KINDA MADE IT SEEM THAT WAY ESPECIALLY WITH THE DYING PART BUT THEY ARE STILL ALIVE! TRUST ME, IM NOT JUST GONNA KILL THE KID OFF LIKE THAT COME ON NOW-)

(…….unless- IM KIDDDIIING!!)

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Augusnippets Day 27: Migraine

cw: migraine, self depreciation, emeto, gory descriptions

previous

for the @augusnippets challenge // word count: 787

=~=~=

Shades of violet and blinding green swirled around him like storm clouds, spewing lightning and egging on the pain in his head. Hunter hugged his pillow tighter, willing the color to go away. Didn't do shit. The more he thought about wanting it gone, the stronger it got, like it was trying to spite him.

A new wave hit—white fire behind his eyes, his own brain screaming—and he bit down on the cushion until his jaw started to burn.

It hadn't been this bad since… since… the beginning. Since the test that activated his implant in the first place, since he'd crawled out of the burning lab, blinded by agony, the smell of smoke the only thing that kept him moving forward.

Had he overused it finding Manak? Every time he leaned into the patterns, used them, the headaches seemed to get worse.

If he did break his brain finding that arrogant asshole, he wouldn't fucking regret it. He'd made his choice, and Manak wouldn't be here right now if he hadn't.

He needed me. All the brains in the world, and in the end, he needed me, Hunter told himself through the next bout of searing pain, screaming into the pillow as it reached a new sharpness.

He wished he would just pass out. He wished—

“Harbor.”

Speak of the fuckin devil.

It was hard to keep from whimpering at the sudden sound, words somehow both blurred by the colors and sharpened by them, driving into his temple like a spike.

“What?” he managed to spit out, trying to blink past the cloying rainbow to get a look at Manak’s color. He was expecting the usual. Irritation, red and swirling. Can you shut up? Some of us want to sleep.

Instead, he was a neutral forest green, darkness clouding his throat and shoulders, misty red pain hovering around his knee.

The mist had been a lot thicker when he'd found him; flecks of red mingling with real blood, his green darkened to almost black. Brightening at the center when Hunter made himself known, when he carried him away. Manak never brightened around him before, never.

You did save his life. Even Manak would appreciate that, dumbass.

“Are you alright? I thought I heard…” He frowned, steps clicking as he moved closer to Hunter's bed. Crutches. He hadn't even noticed them until now. Manak shouldn’t be up. He should be sleeping, getting better, but somehow Hunter'd managed to fuck up what should've been the easy part.

“Fine,” Hunter choked out. “Just. Implant bullshit.” Power came at a cost. Anyone who picked up a comicbook knew that. So whatever, it was fine. He'd ride it out. He just wished it didn't feel like his head was going to explode.

“Do you want some pain medication?”

“Doesn't work.” The orange ones just made him nauseous, and everything else didn't reach his head. The only way he'd ever shut it up was through booze, and he doubted there was any of that on this tiny compound.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Help. Why would Manak want to help? Did he feel like he owed him? That had to be it. There was no other reason he'd still be in the room, no other reason he'd bother to check on Hunter in the first place.

“You can go away,” he said, and the words came out choked. A fresh pain was building, brighter than the sun, aching, stinging, burning, growing. Like a new star was trying to form in his fucking skull. Agony too loud to hear his own voice, Hunter only realized he was screaming when his lungs started to burn from the lack of air, throat aching from overuse.

He couldn't get away, no escape, the pain was him, he'd have to cut open his skull and let his brains spill out, had to relieve pressure, had to—

Everything went away.

Not for long enough. The pain came back as a dull ache, pounding like a drum in his head. It was hard to breathe at first, hard to see. His mouth tasted like battery acid, bile on his tongue, and for a moment he couldn't feel anything but the implant. Cold metal and brain tissue.

“Are you with me?”

He was sitting up. Hunched forwards a little, arms wrapped around him.

“Breathe.”

Hunter more choked than inhaled. His body felt shaky and bloodless, head floating in a sea of hurt.

Manak was holding him, a cool hand rubbing his back, Hunter’s puke down the front of his perfect sweater.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, the word barely more than a gurgle.

“Just breathe.”

He tried.

[hiscrookedsaint]

𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑨𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

#: 𝐕𝐈

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Kaz x fem!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Y/N and the crew infiltrate the Little Palace to capture Alina, but the mission goes a different direction. As Y/N's powers grow more darker and secrets from her past emerge, an all-powerful Grisha sets his sights on her.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3457

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Blood, gore, mentions of injury & mentions of death.

𝐀/𝐍: Thank you for taking the time to read this fic I've been working hard on! :)

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

~Y/N~

After doing the last shows, the time has come. Inej and I had gone through a route that made us unseen in the Little Palace. Using my powers with the most powerful Grisha in the country is a risk I couldn't take; I would've been a prisoner in a heartbeat.

We go to the meeting point where Inej, Arken, and I get our uniforms from Kaz. Inej is first. "Is it my size?" she asks. "You have to ask?"

"Do you remember what happened last time we did this? Got me a man's uniform." Kaz says, "It worked, didn't it?" "Just be happy I'm eager to get out of... this." She says.

Kaz hands me mine, and I look down at it. It looks like it would fit. I gaze at him before joining Inej to wear our regular clothes and the guard uniform. I made sure my eyes were still E/C in a small mirror.

Inej and I get near our positions, where Kaz stands by the doorway where the actual demonstration occurs. But before we go to our spots, we stop by Kaz. "It's reflective glass. You ounce the light into that, and people won't know whether it's coming or going."

The applause dies, and Alina gets on the main stage with General Kirigan. "Her name is Alina Starkov. And she will bring liberation to us all." he says. Kirigan summons shadow all around the room with a clap of his hands.

Alina started with a small ball of light, rotating it in her right hand. She then brought a second light to her left, pushing the two light sources near the glass. The chandelier's colors were gorgeous.

The light then explodes within the center of the room, flashing a tiny bit of darkness before it is restored. Everyone then praises Sankta Alina. The festivities continue, and we realize Alina hasn't been taken to the Fitting Room.

Inej picks up on the lateness and goes up to Kaz. "The lynx flush was to smoke out Arken." She says. "Like I said, our futures depend on this. I saw two identical dresses in the fitting room. The target is wearing one, and an Inferni about the same height and build was measured for the other. They need the target for the demonstration, but afterward at the reception, that's when they'll deploy a double for security reasons. So, I set Arken after the double while we stay on the target."

I realize what he meant. "Arken will get caught, after what he did." I add. Kaz says, "He chose his fate in Novokribirsk when he met with Zlatan."

"What if you're wrong? What if we sand bagged him with a lynx flush, and the meeting had nothing to do with this?" Inej says. "The only two men in the world who profit off the Fold? Doubtful. Now."

The three of us are now proceeding with the next phase. We approach her, and Kaz begins, "Miss Starkov. We are to escort you to dinner. Could you come with us, please?" I whisper something under my breath and make it so Alina won't recognize me.

Her mind now thinks I am someone else, different.

"I thought, um... A-Actually, I am quite hungry." Kaz guides the direction, and we follow her. We are met with Kirigan, saying. "Thank you. I'll take her from here."

He holds out some flowers for her. "For you." The General says. The two walk off together, and we turn to each other. "All right. Plan B." says Kaz.

We see the male Inferni from earlier give us a look. Our cover is blown, and I can't do anything drastic in front of all these people. "Scratch that. Plan F. Y/N, Inej, stay on the target and meet me at the escape route."

"He's an Inferni. Don't take chances."

With that, Inej and I are off on our side mission. I flick off the transformation glamour I used for Alina earlier. From what we saw, nothing so far. "Y/N." I look at Inej. "I can handle tracking the target, make sure Kaz isn't in trouble." I nod and hastily go in the direction Kaz went. I hear a commotion near the church area and make it that way.

I reach a higher seating area and see the Inferni hold up fire at Kaz. He's going to kill him. Using my hands, I channel my powers to hold the Inferni in the air. I feel my eyes glow and turn the Inferni towards me.

I was angry at him that he dared to attempt to kill Kaz. I use both hands to kill his mind, destroy it.

Corrupt it.

I reach the Inferni's breaking point, and all his limbs and fingers snap. After the snap of his jaw, his eyes gush out with blood before his body falls back to the ground with a loud thud. Kaz looks back up at me, and I look down at the body on its side facing away from me, almost in shock.

I gaze at Kaz before using my powers to lower me to the ground, having the aura all around me. After feeling my feet touch, I run over to the Inferni to slowly watch blood come out of his mouth and eyes and then onto the hard floor.

I take a deep breath and realize the horror of what I did. We hear more personnel come our way. "We need to go," Kaz says. I flip over the body to look at his face. His life was just sucked out of him.

I froze in shock, shocked that the extremes of my powers could go this far. "Y/N, look at me. Look at me." I hesitantly looked at him and felt my eyes glow. "You saved my life," he assured me. I nodded in response, and we ran off.

Inej had met us, and after the rest of the Little Palace—I swear it's a maze—we made our way to the final meeting point over by the Stables.

We approached Jesper and he could tell something was off. "What happened? You okay?" "She's real, Jesper. She made the light sing." I looked over at Inej, then over at Kaz. "We lost her." he said.

Jesper gives us a devious smirk and adds, "Did we?" Kaz says, "We don't know where she is."

"Don't we?" Jesper is starting to break, but I'm unsure if it's good. The four of us begin our walk to the carriage, and we follow. "Just ask," says Jesper. "Jesper." "Just ask," he repeats. One by one, we all climb into the carriage, and Inej and I climb up top while Kaz and Jesper are at the lower part of the seating.

"Just ask," Kaz says, getting settled in his seat. "Fine. Do we have a fix on where the target is?" I close my eyes and try to find Alina. My powers tell me that she is in our carriage, the one that is moving—that sneaky Jesper.

The ride was long and dark that night. East Ravka was our next location, and Jesper had explained that Alina had just happened to hop in our carriage storage because it was leaving soon.

That was fate on how we got the Summoner.

By the time sunrise hit, it was almost midday. Jesper had parked the carriage at a hidden spot off the road so it wouldn't be too distracting. Inej had heard some noises from the trunk in the back, and we were on alert.

We removed the guard uniforms since we had our regular clothing underneath. We all went to the trunk, and I closed my eyes quickly. I used my powers to make Alina think I was someone else, not Y/N.

I cannot risk Alina recognizing me. It would jeopardize this mission.

The four of us stand waiting by the trunk, Inej next to Jesper and I between Jesper and Kaz. Suddenly, the lock pops out of the trunk.

Alina opened the lid and immediately saw us waiting. She got onto the ground and held her hands up in defense. "We don't want any trouble," Jesper assured her. "Neither do I, so I'll just be on my way."

Kaz holds up his cane against the trunk so she can't escape. I slightly twirl my hands around and feel the magic in my hands. "Clearly, you want out of East Ravka. But we can help you. We have a secure route through the Fold."

"I prefer to travel alone." Alina says. "Don't be rash. You stick with us, everybody gets what they want." "I'm not being anyone's captive ever again. So step aside and let me pass." Kaz finally adds to the conversation.

He says, "I'm afraid we can't let that happen." Jesper gently places his hand on one of his guns, and Alina blinds us with a wave of light, causing all of us to flinch. Inej looks deep into her eyes. I can't imagine her heart is torn.

Because my heart was torn too, I wanted to explain to her what had happened to me, but I couldn't.

I feel my foot dig in the dirt, ready to run after her. Maybe if I get her alone, I can explain. Kaz puts his cane before me and nods at Inej to go after her. I look up at Kaz, confused.

He says, "I want you to track her from a distance. Know every move she takes."

I nod and sit criss-crossed behind the carriage on the floor. I flick my wrists upwards and feel the warm aura of my indigo power above my hands. I close my eyes and concentrate on her.

Alina Starkov.

Flashes of the Inferni that I killed flood my brain. Something dark is coming. My innocence is fading. I find myself seeing Alina running away and hiding.

I hear a light frequency in my surroundings and see my background change. It wasn't the same as where Alina was. It was the forest surrounding the town. There was someone my age with a shaved head and looked like a First Army soldier.

The closer I walk towards him, the frequency intensifies. I try to touch his hand to see if I can remember anything.

Once I do, I feel a flash of memories of Alina, myself, and me at the orphanage. I realize that the boy who was with Alina and me is Mal.

He was essential to my childhood, but I can't figure out why. My mind is not telling me.

"Malyen," I whisper.

I wake up with my heart beating out of my chest and my breaths heavy. I get up from the ground and then feel a pounding migraine surround my whole head. I wince at the pain it gives, trying to shake off my anxiety.

Blood rushes down my nose, and I get up to try to find Jesper and Kaz. "I couldn't find her..." I lean against the carriage and feel the blood coming out of my nose drip onto my hands.

My vision is hazy, and I try to concentrate on gaining focus again. I remembered another childhood friend.

I see a flash of disappointment on Kaz's face, and I look down in anger. Jesper rubs my shoulders to stop the pain.

"We'll meet at the local pub at the next bell. The carriage will be rigged with the right explosives and timer mechanism, so they'll open it when the other Grisha finds the missing carriage. Jesper, I expect you to set it up later."

I feel a tiny bit at ease, and I sigh. I kick a small rock in anger and use a cloth to wipe away the blood. Kaz walks away to scheme the following plan. Jesper comes over worried. "What happened back there?" he asks.

"Jes, don't tell Kaz... but I knew Alina when I was an orphan." He stops in his trail and looks back and forth. "Wait. Excuse me? But she didn't recognize you earlier." "It's because I used my powers to manipulate her mind so she would not see me. It would have been worse if she recognized me."

Jesper felt a bit bad, and I did, too. I just laid out some past trauma that I only knew of recently. "I was her best friend. The more I use my powers, the more memories emerge from my childhood, my past."

He says, "It almost feels as if something will emerge from you—in a good way, like a rebirth." I nod and shrug. We spent the rest of the day familiarizing ourselves with our routes along the city and visiting the local vendors.

When the time comes, Jesper puts the final touches on the carriage. We go to Kaz's table at the local pub and talk about the plan.

"The alarm trigger is set. Horses are ready and I've stashed the rest of our gear." "If we don't move soon, the Black General will be on top of us. We can't waste any more time looking for the girl."

Inej returns from talking with the barkeeper. "I just settled our tab with the last of our coin." "We're really gonna leave empty-handed, then?" I look at Kaz and ask, "Not to be so upsetting, but the General and his army must be on our trail. Right?"

On cue, we all hear an explosion in the distance. They're here. "Our alarm." Jesper says. "Split up, much easier to take a Grisha one-on-one than a whole squad of them. Rendezvous at the fountain."

We all get up from the table and leave with the crowd. As we reach outside, we are met with some of Kirigan's army staring directly at us. The female Inferni glares me down, anger boiling in her.

"NO!" The other Inferni was her brother, and I killed him. "Move!" Kaz yells. We all split up, and I ducked and rolled to avoid her fire attack.

After running away for a while, I am met with charcoal and other machinery in an industrial room. Inej finds me, and we both hide behind a pillar.

I whisper, "Inej, run. I can take care of her." "Y/N, you can't let me take care of this." I shake my head, and Inej runs off. This causes me to get out of hiding and use my magic to throw my auras at the Inferni charging at me.

Fighting fire like fire, but I have magical aura orbs. She grabs my arm, and I grunt in frustration. "You robbed me of my brother, now I'll rob you of your life."

I successfully get out of her hold and try to concentrate on her mind, but I can't break in. I throw a massive indigo aura ball at her, then try to roll out of the way. The Inferni's fire hits a pipe and bursts, causing me to fly into the air and land on some coal.

I quickly motion my hands to make her not see me. A burst of pain is down in my abdomen, but I try my best to shrug it off. I still hold my hands at her, then reach a better hiding spot.

I let go of my hands and then close my eyes. I have to end this brutally. I sense her mind allowing me to leave my hiding spot and lift her into the air with both hands.

Indigo auras form around both of her wrists, especially keeping them apart. Then, slowly, one is around her neck, choking her. "What I'll do to you is something one of your other Grisha can't fix."

She laughs, being very cocky. "Freak trash. I will track you down, and kill everyone that you love, and then... you." I feel my eyes glow in anger. I slowly bring her closer to me, glaring at her. Then, with a sudden twist of my hands, I did the same thing I had done to her brother.

I broke her.

Her limbs snap one by one, her jaw pops out of place, and then her eyes are reduced to nothing. I let go of her with my powers and saw her body fall to the floor. Blood oozes out of her eye sockets.

The adrenaline ends, causing a burst of pain to erupt from my right abdomen. I look down at it, bleeding immensely. I walk out of there, need to find Jesper, Inej, or even Kaz.

~Kaz~

I hoped my escape route would be flawless, but it was the opposite. I met General Kirigan on the other side of the street, emerging from the darkness.

"I know you kidnapped my Sun Summoner, and now you're going to tell me where you stashed her," he says. "We didn't take her. She fled on her own."

With the Darkling's gaze, I can't predict what he will do next. Calmly, he asks, "Where is she? I won't ask you again."

I reply. "I don't know. It was pretty clear she wasn't interested in being a captive anymore. She's probably halfway to Novyi Zem by now."

The General looks down in disappointment but smirks. "That girl with you. The one who can do unspeakable things. I know she is incredibly powerful after what she did with my Inferni."

Y/N. Why would he want her?

"If you tell me where that girl is, I'll call off my Grisha, and we can go our separate ways." "What girl? I don't know what you're talking about."

He chuckles and slowly paces back and forth. "The girl is a myth, a prophecy. She can help shape Ravka back to how it should be. She would be with me and my Sun Summoner, and she wouldn't have to hide anymore. That girl is rare. Only one exists. Like calls to like, Mr. Brekker. She will find me soon enough."

Of course, Y/N would be in Kirigan's crosshairs, but not in the usual way. An eerie darkness now surrounds General Kirigan. He's going to use The Cut. I grab my powder from my bag, ready to use it.

"You should have stayed in Ketterdam, Mr. Brekker." Once I see him motion his hands, it gives me my cue. I get a better grip on my cane and throw the powder against the ground. I try to run in the opposite direction, away from him.

Now, I need to find the others and ask Y/N if she knows what the Darkling was discussing.

~Y/N~

Today was the day I have felt the most pain in my life. I try my best to run back to everyone but not hurt myself anymore. I see the fountain and quickly run over with a hand over my wound. I stumble against the bricks and see Kaz look at me.

"Y/N."

Jesper and Inej gently grab me to hold me up. "I took care of the Inferni; she's dead." I grunt in pain and lean against Jesper. "Well, you can't manage a horse." Jesper says. "Not even riding double. We'll have to come up with another plan." Inej adds.

I hold my hand up to my eyes and see that it is soaked in blood. I look over at Kaz's gaze and see him eyeing the carriage the Darkling came in on. Kaz says, "That's a pretty nice ride." "Yes, indeed it is."

Jesper and Inej help me lean against a wall, while the rest deal with the carriage situation. Jesper and Kaz take care of the guards and Grisha. Inej approaches me with a cloth and a bucket of clean water.

"I need you to trust me, okay?" I nod, and she motions for me to sit on the ground. She kneels, grabs the cloth, and makes it wet. Then, slowly, she raises my top to reveal the wound. It runs pretty deep, and will definitely scar.

Inej also has a small bag of medical supplies with her. She used the cloth to clean my wound and clean my hand, which had blood on it. "After I put a patch on it, it should stop some pain," she says. "Inej.'

She looks at me worried.

"Thank you for helping me with everything so far." She smiles and does the final blood cleaning. Then she takes out a patch to put over my wound. "I think we will be great friends. The way you care about everyone is one of a kind."

I smile at her compliment and see Kaz look in my direction. I need to talk to him soon. "You're one of a kind, Inej. Don't ever change, please." She nods and finishes patching me up. Jesper runs over and helps me up and into the carriage.

Things must turn around. They have to.

[whatyadrawin]

The Fruit After the Flesh 18+ - Chapter 6-

Minors DNI!

Masterlist

Approximately 3,177 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt(HeadCanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings:  Life threatening event, mild sexually suggestive language, swear words

A/n: Sorry for there not being a whole lot of art in this chapter, I am trying to streamline my work so that I can get these chapters out as quick as possible. I have really grown so accustomed to Luda Mae, I admit I am a bit attached to her, same goes for that pervy old man Charlie. As always, reblogs, likes and comments are extremely appreciated, and I hope you enjoy the chapter and art!

Tag-List: @fan-goddess

Chapter 6

The sound of crackling and smell of campfire wafted into your dream, you were so drained from the heat exhaustion you experienced that you could barely wake up. You feel really hot and as you open your eyes you see fire, raging ember flames were licking at the walls and dancing across the ceiling as smoke flooded the air. You immediately jump out of bed and scream as you scramble to get out of the room, the thick poisonous smog was choking your lungs and stinging your eyes. You run to the door but it is blocked by fire and heat, you try to get to the window to open it but a large plank from the ceiling falls in front of it trapping you inside.

 You sprint towards the bathroom and see the window is too tiny to get out of so you decide to get the shower head and spray the entire bathroom with water to prevent the fire from coming in, this futile attempt was modestly effective but the smoke was promising to take your life. You scream for help, in the hopes that maybe Dover could hear you and be a decent enough person to come to your aid, but the more you screamed the more smoke you inhaled. You spray yourself with water and hold a towel to your nose to filter out some of the fumes and begin to cry, realizing that this home is now your grave.

A sudden crash instills even more fear and defeat, the house is now collapsing from the flames eating its structure, but as soon as doom overwhelms you, the door to the bathroom starts pounding with heavy thuds. It takes you a second to process what the sound is -the ceiling is probably collapsing now- you feel yourself begin to slip away as the polluted air chokes you. In a blink, the bathroom door explodes off its hinges, a plume of black smoke furls into the room and from that smoke emerges a beast, Tommy.

He scoops you up and pulls you out of the house and away from the flames to safety, gently placing you down on the ground, he began helping Charlie with spraying the house down with what looks like an old water truck. In a quick half hour, the flames were extinguished and your beautiful home was now sitting there horribly damaged from what you were able to see. You suck in clean air to help get the toxins out of your lungs and clear your blood, Charlie comes up to where you lay with Tommy right beside him and says,

“You’re lucky we were here girly, this would’a been the end of you and your damn house.” He then looks at Tommy and tells him, “Boy, pick her up and get her into the truck, she’s comin’ home with us.”

Tommy nods and picks you up delicately as if you were made of glass. When he got to the truck, he placed you on his lap and held you tightly, you were coughing furiously, trying to get out the toxins that infiltrated your lung tissue. The drive was extremely short, your eyes were closed the entire ride from the stinging you felt. Once you reached the Hewitt house, Tommy quickly brought you inside where Luda Mae was waiting for you.

“Bring her up to my room and set her on the bed, quickly now” Luda Mae spoke with a wavering voice full of worry.

She followed Tommy up the stairs with a bucket full of clean, cool water and a washcloth. You opened your eyes a little to be able to look at Tommy, you wanted to thank him so badly but you could barely speak. The upstairs of their home was a new space for you as you had only ever needed to be on the main floor for visits; Wallpaper colored the walls in an old Dijon yellow, marked with whispers of mysterious stains form years ago; There was a dark walnut trim wrapping around the ceiling and floors matching in a same walnut brown shade, the lighting from dated wall sconces dimly lit the hallway and made you feel uneasy.

Luda Mae guided him to her bedroom door, “Carefully now Tommy, we don’t want to do anymore damage that the fire hadn’t already caused.”

Luda Mae had a bedroom you would expect for a household matriarch, the floors were impeccably clean and reflected the soft lamp light that shone from the corner of the room; The walls were a soft eggshell white and the bed you were placed on was large with soft cotton sheets in a cheery canary yellow color. You start coughing more from the movement,

“Thank you, son, now clear outta here, she ain’t dressed for male company.” Luda Mae pushes Tommy out and he reluctantly obeys, his head was swiveling to keep his sight on you as much as he could before the door closed behind him.

You realize you were wearing the least amount of clothing tonight because of the Texan heat that plagued you the entire time you had been in Fuller. You had nothing much on but some old short-shorts and a slinky little tank top that could barely hang on to your breasts. You almost felt shame but you could barely think of anything at the moment, your lovely new home is now severely damaged, possibly even burnt to the ground for all you knew.

“You poor thing, you just can’t catch a break huh? You must be so scared and tired.” Luda Mae had such a soothing voice; she was so much like a mother you never had.

You try to speak, “Luda *cough* I’m so sorry to be such a burden on your family, I owe my life to you all.” Your barely audible  voice was gravelly from all the smoke and irritation.

She gives you a stern look, “Don’t you dare think you owe us hun, your life was in danger and there was no way we were gonna let you die in that fire.” She began washing the soot from your face and body, then handed you a glass of water to drink, which you promptly guzzled down immediately. You begin to feel a wave of emotion come over you, tears start welling up in your eyes and you start sobbing, Luda Mae holds you close to her chest and pets your head gently, she says,

“It’s gonna be ok sweetheart, don’t you worry none, we ain’t gonna let nothing happen to you anymore. You’re family.”

You sob into her; you haven’t had a strong cry in years and the stress of recent events was enough to break you,

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do now, my home is gone! I have nowhere to live, everything I had, all my memories from home are probably all burnt up now!”

Luda Mae lets out a sympathetic laugh, “Oh hun! You’re gonna live here with us until you want to leave.” She lifts your chin up to have you face her and she wipes your tears with a dainty little handkerchief, she adds,

“Tonight, you’re gonna get some well needed rest, and tomorrow we can go look and see what the damage is together, and we’ll talk some more.”

Luda Mae goes into the joining bathroom and grabs a box of tissues; she sets them down next to you and puts a jug of fresh water next to your cup on the night stand. She looks at you with worry in her eyes, you can feel the motherly concern she has for you just by her expression, she says,

“I need you to get some sleep tonight hun, you might cough a lot and that’s to be expected after a fire, but if you need anything you just holler. I know my boy is going to be right outside all night and I’ll be in Charlies room -God help me- which is right next to this one.”

Through bleary eyes and sniffles, you give her a nod, she gently shuts the door behind her as she exits and you hear her mumble something to someone before walking away. You do your best to get some sleep, the crying puffed up your eyes and made you sleepy enough to pass out.

-

You woke up to the sound of farm animals milling about outside, the gentle clucks of chickens pecking the ground and the calls of cows mooing in the field. You can hear Charlie speaking to Tommy outside in the barn but it’s too far away to make out the words. You slowly get up and pour yourself some water, muffled coughs still plague you but they are lessened in strength. You hear a knock at the bedroom door and Luda Mae speaks softly,

“You awake hun? Can I come in?”

You call out to let her in and she opens the door, she picks up something off the table next to her outside and walks towards you with an in-bed breakfast tray holding a glass of orange juice and some eggs and toast.

“I have some food here for you dear, you don’t have to eat it if you don’t feel hungry so don’t push yourself.” She sets the tray on your lap and puts some pillows behind your back to help you sit up, she follows,

“How are you feeling today? You slept far into the day which is good, you needed it.”

You smile at her and reply,

“I’m doing better today; I didn’t mean to cry on you last night… I’m a bit embarrassed. What time is it?”

She looks at you with an annoyed look and says,

“Now that’s enough of that nonsense, you better not feel embarrassed at all; why, you had every right to cry with all of what happened to you, I’m surprised you weren’t hollerin’ all night.” She looks at a watch on her wrist, “Oh, and it’s past 1pm dear, you got a good healthy amount of rest, that makes me happy.”

She gets up and walks towards the closet, she slides open the doors and stares at the clothes hanging on the rack, she places her hands on her hips ad says,

“Now let’s find you something to put on so we can go check on your house.”

You start eating the food on the tray as she sifts through the clothing in the closet, the eggs were perfectly cooked, sunny side up with a soft yolk for you to dip your toast into. You thank Luda Mae for the food and she smiles back at you, she turns back and spots something; she pulls out a large pastel blue shirt and brings it over to you,

“This was worn by Thomas when he was growin’ up, he grew out of it real quick and now it’s just a big pretty shirt. I think it would be like a nice little dress on you, it’s at least something to put on so we can get you to your home without the men lookin’ at you like hungry dogs to a steak.”

You blush in embarrassment and say,

“I’m so-“

Luda Mae cuts you off immediately and says,

“The next words outta your mouth better not be ‘sorry’ hun. You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry about, it doesn’t matter how you were dressed for bed, that’s your business, I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable is all, it ain’t a judgment on your character or nothin’…I’m not that kind of Christian.”

She takes the empty tray away from you and starts heading out the door,

“Now you get yourself ready and I’ll take you back up to the house. No need to rush none sweetheart, you take your time.” And with that she closes the door behind her.

You head into the bathroom which is very old fashioned, the walls were painted a pale teal blue, white tiles with flower patterns scaled around the tub and the fixtures were a weathered gold color. You wash your face and gargle some tap water; you clean your body off in the tub which makes the water run grey from the soot still stuck to your skin. You let out a sigh -I smell like a goddamn chimney- the shower made you feel amazing, it was nice to get so clean after a traumatic event.

Once you were done in the shower, you got changed into the shirt Luda Mae left for you, the color was very pretty, it was a powder blue, button down made entirely of cotton; you slipped it over your body and it really was like a dress on you, the sleeves were very long and the bottom of the shirt reached your knees -Fucking hell, this was his when he was growing?- you felt a little scandalous wearing the old shirt of a man you didn’t know very well, you didn’t have that kind of relationship with him but it was fun to imagine that you did which got your mind off the stress of last night.

You make your way downstairs, your bare feet slapping on the cool hardwood floor, each step made a gentle creak which reminded you of the old home you grew up in back in Manitoba. The sepia tone of the afternoon sun washed into the home and a cool breeze flowed in through the open windows making the curtains sway gently. The house was very quiet inside, the muted sounds of the animals and nature outside floated off the walls like a comforting hug, you felt very at home in the Hewitt house as if you were never a stranger to them.

Luda Mae rounds a corner and brings you an old pair of flip flops which looked strangely modern and out of place for an old Texan farm. You ask,

“Oh, who’s are these?”

Luda Mae pauses for a second and purses her lips in thought,

“Uh, they were from a family friend who visited and forgot them. Put them on dear.”

You couldn’t help but feel her response was a little suspicious, but you struggled to place what it was. You shrug it off and thank her for the shoes. You both head out towards your home, you pass by the barn and see Tommy heaving planks of wood from inside the barn, he was shirtless.

You immediately widen your eyes and blush heavily, his sweaty body was shimmering in the sun, most of his torso was disappointingly hidden by his overalls but you were able to see some hair surrounding a small pink nipple. Immediately you had sinful thoughts running through your head, you wondered so desperately what the rest of him looked like and how low the hair went down. Luda Mae called out to him,

“Thomas! Me n’ Y/N are going to head back to her property for a bit, some foods on the kitchen table for you!”

Tommy did a double take to look at you when he saw you were wearing an old favorite of his. He was frozen where he was, his eyes followed as you made your way down the driveway to the main road. Luda Mae laughed noticing this, she said,

“He hasn’t seen that shirt in so long, he used to love wearing it. I bet he’s happy it’s bein’ worn again”

Both you and Luda Mae reach your home, you are feeling anxious to see what you are going to find left after the fire and you feel a knot in your stomach forming. Before you could get up the driveway enough to see the house, Luda Mae turns to you and asks,

“Are you gonna be alright dear?”

You nod and continue up the driveway, you can already smell the burnt wood and you start to get scared; you make it over the hill revealing the house to be in better shape than you initially thought; most of it is still standing and undamaged, your heart lifts a little seeing that you still have well over half a home left to work with. Charlie comes out from behind the house and walks towards you both,

“This ain’t so bad. Looks to me like the bedroom took the brunt of the flames, most of this house ain’t damaged at all.”

Luda Mae smiles and holds your hand,

“Oh, praise lord Jesus. Looks like this can be fixed up, you can live with us while repairs get done, or…forever if you like.” She giggles after adding that in.

You laugh, “I really appreciate your offer, and I will have to take you up on it. I’ll pay my way and help out until my home is ready to move back into of course.”

Charlie puts his hands on his hips and turns to you,

“I tried lookin’ for that shithead Dover but, he’s nowhere to be found. I didn’t see a corpse in the house or nothin’ so he ain’t dead far as I can tell.”

You had completely forgotten about Dover, it was strange that he was missing but you didn’t really care at this moment, you were just happy to know that you still had a home. You make your way inside the house to see the damage in the bedroom, it looks like the fire was most damaging by the window which you thought strange. You see the closet is covered in soot, you open it and check the clothes, they needed a wash but remained undamaged. You take a suitcase from out of another closet in the foyer, you fill it up with clothes and essential items, if you needed anything more, you could just get into the storage container which still had so many things in it.

Once the suitcase was full, you head towards Luda Mae who asks,

“Got everything you need? You can slowly bring more stuff everyday if you like, you’ll be stayin’ with us a while.” She puts her arm around you and squeezes reassuringly.

Charlie walks alongside you and Luda Mae, he asks,

“Y/N, did you leave somethin’ electric plugged in near the window? Maybe some woman contraption for hair or what not?”

You squint your eyes at the ignorant statement but reply,

“No, I didn’t have anything plugged into the wall, not even a lamp. Anything that could have caught fire like that would be in the bathroom but there wasn’t a fire in there.”

Charlie rubs his chin,

“I think we need to keep an eye out for Dover, wherever that backwoods fuck is.”

You furl your eyebrows in thought -Does he think that Dover lit the fire? Why would he do that? It would risk his job and the orchard…- You were perplexed with the thought but it was always a possibility, he did say many times how much he wanted the full property all to himself. He needs to be found, and he needs to be found quickly.

Next chapter-

[chibi-celesti]

Time For Your Tune Up(Sebek Zigvolt)

A/N: How could I leave out the most extra(in terms of OCD), but ultimate ride or die for his Diasomnia family, first year to ever live?!

Sorry if the ending felt off. I wanted to close Sebek’s story off with something bittersweet, and this was the end result. Hope you enjoy!

Btw, You think his pee-paw Baul would be proud or depressed that he helped a human like this? 🤔

~TFYTU~

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!”

“I DIDN'T EVEN GET TO EXPLAIN ANYTHING!”

“STILL THE ANSWER IS NO!! If you are that desperate to take it, do it yourself!” He says while blushing like a dumbass.

Leave it to Sebek Zigvolt to be the most stubborn individual to ask. Yumei thought about asking him since they could relate to being half human together, he would be more understanding.

That was his biggest mistake.

“Fine, fine…” Yumei feigned defeat. “I’ll just ask Tsunotarou then. At least he was gentle with me last time!”

“YOU DID WHAT?!?!?!”

“Tsunotarou helped me last time? Are you jealous~”

“I-I AM NOT JEALOUS!!” (bullshit) “I AM ENRAGED THAT YOU MADE WAKA-SAMA TEND TO YOUR NEEDS!”

“What are you gonna do about it, then? Hmm~”

‘This little shit!’ The loud mouth first year fell for his trap hook, line and sinker. Refusing to fall or admit defeat, Sebek dragged the boy away to somewhere more private. Leading them both into an unused classroom. He ushered the Reyvateil deeper into the classroom, away from the doors and windows for privacy's sake.

Standing before him, Sebek ordered Yumei to give him the bag. He gave it to the greenette despite the skeptical look he gave him. “Now, you said that this needed to be administered inside you.”

“Yup.”

“Show me where exactly. Please.”

‘This was a first,’ Yumei thought. He lifted his school shirt up a bit to expose his mark by his ribcage under his armpit. He turned his face away in embarrassment. “You go in here, Sebek.”

The other only stared at it then pulled the necessary Life Extending Agent from the bag. ‘He stuffs things THIS BIG inside himself?! And Waka-sama did this too?’ He gauged the other with his eyes, who waited patiently for him to start. ‘Never thought that this would be his price for bearing half human blood…’

Sebek hugged Yumei close. “Hold your arm up.” He commanded. There was little resistance as the other complied, giving Zigvolt easy access to the port. A wince as the procedure began shook their tangled forms.

“Ow…”

“Weakling-Ack!” He got pinched on the neck.

“You're not the one getting something stuffed inside you! Ow!”

“Hold still then!” Sebek ordered, angrily. “You're making me nervous.”

“I’m trying, asshole.” Weakly, Yumei wrapped his arm that was in the air around Zigvolt's shoulders. Hiding his face, and taking in some comfort from him.

“Just…about. There. We are finished.”

The bluenette wiggled his arm to get the circulation flowing again before tucking his shirt down. “Thanks again.”

“Don't thank me, Yumei. You still need to do better to take better care of yourself.”

“If it helps,” He said, smoothing out the last few wrinkles on his shirt. “It's only an every three month process.”

“Th-three months?!”

“Yeah. How else did Tsunotarou manage to help me out one time? It was three months before Winter Break at best.”

“I-I see…”

...

“Well then, Yumei. Consider yourself no longer needing Waka-sama's aid!”

“Huh?”

“I SHALL BE YOUR AID TO ADMINISTER THE AGENT INSIDE YOU FROM NOW ON!!!”

Yumei's face exploded in the color red. “NOT SO LOUD SEBEK!”

Later, time jump:

“Sebek.”

“Mother.”

Mrs. Zigvolt looks to the sleeping Yumei recovering after a long stressful day in the Fae Ward. Nestled in his arms was a little bundle of joy, a baby he and Sebek had taken in after a bad storm rocked the side of Briar Valley and nearly claiming a small village. The little one's parents were lost to him, but Yumei offered to take him in. He stayed with him all through out the tiny one's own check up.

“Your partner did well out there saving as many of our people. I'm proud of him.”

“Thank you!” He smiled. “If only grandfather could have seen this…”

“He is one with the stars. He is no doubt proud of what you've become.” She then gently patted his head. “And while he may not be happy at first like he was with me, I know he would warm up to your Human, eventually.”

Sebek nodded. “It's…not an easy task. I do wish there was more I could do to prolong the inevitable.”

“You still have about 15 years together.”

“Even so.”

“Then,” She pushed him towards her son's new family. “Take a chance and live this life with him and your new son.”

“...I will, mother. Thank you.”

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