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cher-writes · 4 years ago

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Stay High || Klaus Hargreeves

Summary: Klaus trying to escape the pain of losing Dave, with not much success.

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: I'm high and in the energy of S1 Klaus crying on the sidewalk. So here, have a piece of my pain.

I don't know if this fits in with S1 canon timeline or exactly where. If it doesn't, it doesn't, I don't care. It's just after Vietnam and then use your imagination. Also it's not edited, I wrote it in an evening and neither I nor anyone else can be arsed to edit it. So if there's mistakes, again, use your imagination. Lastly, it ain't that good, but this is the best you'll get from a depressed high person.

CW: Substance abuse, sexual gestures.

Acknowledgments: A massive thank you to @kelpie-earnest for letting me use their beautiful art work.

Also a thank you to my lovely friend Kim for giving it a quick read and letting me know it's not absolutely atrocious.

~Can't go home alone again

Need someone to numb the pain

You're gone and I gotta stay

High all the time

To keep you off my mind~

There it was. A warm hand. A touch. Stung like acid on an open wound. A wound that refused to close no matter what medicine he poured down this throat. And there probably wasn’t any kind that wasn’t already lingering somewhere in Klaus’s system. So, like any other rational person, he swallowed whatever he was clutching in his sweating palm. He tried to remember exactly where he was. The warm hand, it’s searing fingers, slithered around his wrist. He tried to remember exactly what he was doing.

Oh. That’s right. He remembered he was trying to forget. Trying to forget-

The thing about, well, places like this was that there was too much sound. Too many bodies. Sweating, sticking together like mucoid beads of existence. And usually that was what Klaus wanted, to fade into a haze of shapes barely resembling human form. To melt into a daze of fever poorly imitating human intimacy. But tonight, tonight these shapes sucked out all the oxygen from the air. And no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t fill his lungs enough to stretch his mouth in a structure meant to mimic a smile.

So he didn’t smile. He didn’t smile when the hand glided up his thighs. He didn’t smile when the hand- now, a voice said “Hey, what are you upto tonight?”

Tonight, huh… Klaus thought about tonight. And the other tonights before this one. It was a blur really. They all seemed like a never ending loop, all the same thing repeating itself over and over again. It rained, he drank vodka. He wished he could put his hand inside his throat, reach into his chest, pull his heart out and then wring it out of all the radioactive sludge left by-

It rained, he swallowed some pills he found in a stranger’s cabinet.

So no, he wasn’t upto much really. He wasn’t upto much other than wishing for an end. An ambiguous end. He knew to what. He didn’t want to know to what.

He wasn’t upto much and he thought the medicine this voice came offering, might just work. Maybe this time.

The hand, the voice- now a mouth, which he was starting to suspect might be parts of a larger, more compiled thing, chuckled.

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Then there it was. The mouth. A kiss on his neck. Burnt like rum on fire. Burnt enough that he was sure it would leave blisters in the morning. But he was afraid it wouldn’t hurt enough to take his mind off-

Whatever he was on was starting to wear off.

The fingers held a joint upto his mouth, and Klaus took in a drag. A long, drawn out drag, hoping it might kick off his high again. The mouth then forced into his and took in the exhale of his smoke. The hands clasped around his waist and pushed him up against the wall.

Klaus could feel his heartbeat picking up rapidly. Not from arousal, but from panic. He was wrong. This medicine only brought to surface what he was desparately trying to bury. He had been like this before, he had been like this with-

His brain started banging against his skull. The wall from behind him felt like it might crumble at any point. The body was grinding against him, holding him tight just like-

He was coming down. Hard.

Just like-

Klaus closed his eyes. It all came rushing like a dam broken, surges upon surges. His hand. His alcohol stained lips. His eyes. His smile. His voice- “I love y-”

No. No. No. Klaus couldn’t go back. He couldn’t fall back down. His eyes jolted open. He gasped for air. Just a little bit of air would do, just enough to keep him from choking on the memories.

The body, mistaking his despair for arousal, sped up.

But it was him. Him. Him. All around. In Klaus's head, in his soul, in every cell of his body. Him. The room was spinning violently. Him. Echoes of him. Him. Residues of him.

Him. Him. Him.

“D-Dave”, Klaus heaved a hardly audible rasp.

The body stopped moving and pulled away from his neck to meet Klaus's eyes. There was no face. Just a haze. Klaus strained his eyes to see any feature, just one. But he couldn’t. In his head there was only one face carved in, no other face made sense enough for his brain to register it . And no amount of his frantic tries could erase that sweet, sweet face.

His breath hitched, vision swayed. The harshly glaring fluorescent above only intensified his brutal dizziness.

Klaus prayed to God the mouth won’t say anything. The hand won’t touch him. He couldn’t take it. His body screamed with refusal, in agony. His mind ringed with every word Dave said. Every promise he made. Every dream they dreamt together.

There couldn’t be anyone else. The body, these fingers snaking up and down his sides, the mouth nibbling on his skin, the thrusts stirring his core- all of it was nothing but a ruse. A joke he kept playing on himself endlessly. He tasted the real thing, pure and heavenly. He didn’t just taste it, but basked in it, soaked his parched skin in it’s unsullied euphoria. And now nothing could soothe the withdrawal.

If he could, he would beg the mouth not to speak. But he could only shake. Trying to keep his heart from bursting open. No, no one else would do.

But the mouth did speak up. In a voice resembling kindness: “It’s okay”, the knuckles brushed against his cheeks lightly, with a tenderness that only reminded him of what he lost, how he didn’t want it from anyone else, “You’re so beautiful”. The emptiness of the words put a stake right through his hollowed out chest.

And he burst.

He fell to the floor crying, slipped from the arms of the body. The tears wouldn't stop. The flooding of memories wouldn't stop. The ache in his heart wouldn't stop. The love he had for Dave just wouldn't fucking stop.

Klaus wailed and scratched the floor in a frenzy. Hoping it would open up and swallow him whole. End him or take him back.

The body stood there for a little bit, examining the hysterical mess carefully and then kneeled to Klaus's level. Steadied him by the shoulders and said with a tinge of drunken concern, “Hey, hey, hey what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

He kept sobbing as he looked into the curious haze infront him. Tears and snot ran down his face as his green pupils glinted in the bloodshot. Eyes puffed up and exhausted. When he could muster up some air, he laughed and said “Because I'm so beautiful."

“That’s a weird reason to cry about”, the voice slurred in simper.

“Yeah...Yeah. It is!”, Klaus laughed even louder this time. He laughed and then he sobbed, “I know…”.

He could feel it coming. Another surge. And then an infinite numbers of waves after that. There would be no end to those. How could there be an end to the ocean of love left in his heart for Dave? His chest started clenching up. How could he ever fill up the emptiness left in his existence by Dave? His lungs started running out of air again.

This pain alone could kill him. He hoped, this pain alone would kill him.

So he leaned forth and crashed his lips against the mouth. Pressed his battered frame against the fervid body with whatever little strength was left in his withering soul. He wanted for this kiss to suck out the remaining air in the vacuum of him. He wanted the mouth to draw out however little residual life he had left in his being.

And then stop him from taking another breath ever again.

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cher-writes · 4 years ago

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I'm just so exhausted,

This year hasn't been kind to me.

But I learnt to love cruelty,

Cruel lovers and cruel summers.

And I'll learn to love this year too.

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cher-writes · 4 years ago

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Playground Love | Klaus Hargreeves X Reader (16+)

A/N: I've always felt like Klaus had a lot of selfish lovers at some point in his life. People who didn't really love him but his masochistic tendencies made him go back to them time and time again. This one-shot is kinda on the perspective of such a lover. Hopefully you'll enjoy.

Word count: 1.3k

CW: Insinuation of Self-harm, Suicide attempts, Substance use and Sex.

Art work by: @meamme1 , Thank you so much for letting me use your gorgeous piece!

Follow the artist's insta here (or search @meamme1 on insta).

Special thanks to my beautiful friend @crisis-of-joy for being my benevolent editor.

~Yet my hands are shaking

I feel my body remain,

Time's no matter, I'm on fire

On the playground, love~

It was hard to love Klaus. But you didn’t really love him, did you?

Let’s not discount your efforts. You tried at first; perfunctory, desultory, trivial tries. And maybe you did love him, in some of those moments when he blew cigarette smoke into your open mouth in the early hours of a July hell, or when he ardently kissed your cold feet warm in the late hours of a November void.

How could you not have loved him when he cleaned the vomit, spit and snot off your face with his bare hands after you drank a bit too much, not being able to bear the sheer helplessness of January rain?

When you took him in your tart mouth after days of him sweating and trembling for some humanly unknowable reason, under the window sill as the April dusk soaked through the lifeless buildings, how could he not have loved you too?

Maybe that’s what love is, those fleeting, inconsequential moments. But deep down you both knew that there was no love between the two of you. Those moments only stuck like leaves on a tree baring itself for the fast approaching winter.

You knew, and you pretended he did too.

He came and went as he pleased, habitually whimsical. Always looking a bit different than the time before, or as much as you could care to remember. His face faded from your memory every time he left. You let him ‘cause there was no reason for you to keep him on a leash.

You two weren’t close like that.

He talked. He told you all kinds of things about himself, most of which you didn’t listen to and the parts that you did, you don’t remember. Maybe that’s why he talked to you so much, he sensed your absence.

Although you were merciful to him, never really telling him anything substantial about yourself. You didn’t need to, there was no reason to.

You two weren’t close like that.

But he knew you liked his warm hands on your hips under the blanket following a cup of hot chocolate.

You don’t really remember how you met him. It’s as if he existed in your life since the beginning of cruel time but that wasn’t the case. You can clearly remember a time before him but exactly when he appeared out of thin air, you didn’t bother to keep track of.

Then why was that, you wondered, as his tongue set fire to your loin on miserable festive evenings, you let him in your life?

Then why was that, you tried to remember, as his throat pulsed under your crude grip on hollow autumn daybreaks, you let him in yourself?

Then why was that, you furrowed your brows contemplating as his hot, panting body pressed you against the wall on doleful Friday nights, you let him stick around?

It wasn’t love, that much you knew. It wasn’t kindness either, there was no rationale for you to be kind to him. And you were beyond the capabilities to conjure pity. Then why?

As he licked the disgusting maple syrup from the side of your mouth on one unbearable Tuesday morning, it occurred to you; about the invisible and invincible ties of the universe which bestowed his company onto you. Some intangible force, some abstract fate, some obscure theory about the atoms made it so that he had to exist in your vicinity every now and then, and you didn’t have it in you to defy God.

You couldn’t defy God, but you did defy compassion on multiple occasions.

Some nights when he couldn’t close those green, exhausted eyes of his with all the strength in his supernatural world, or on the afternoons when he clutched those absurd dog-tags round his neck lying on the cold bathroom floor, you defied all of your theoretical humanity as you simply just looked away. You never knew why he did what he did. He told you, maybe, but you don’t know that either.

His existence didn’t make sense to you, it was as if a glitch in the logic behind the cosmic mechanics.

It wasn't about what he was, you weren’t oblivious to his paranormal origin. You wouldn’t say it was about who he was either.

In all honesty, you didn’t really know who he was...is. Everytime he came around he’d become a different “who.”

Rather it was the very normal about him that sent you thinking in circles. It was the very normal about him that you couldn’t align with logic, you couldn’t put in perspective.

And he warped your perception when he bit your earlobe. He toyed with your logic when he let your fingers dig a bit too deep in his flesh. He loved playing Guns N’ Roses when he put his head on your lap, and maybe he loved you too, it was impossible for you to know that, implausible for you to try.

Though there was one thing that you knew about him with indubitable certainty, he wasn't afraid of death. You’d even go on to say he had a rare fascination towards it, the type of fascination star-crossed lovers seem to have. You knew that ‘cause you saw it. He tried and tired and you stood, looking over, as his sole, soul-less witness.

He never succeeded and at times, it felt to you as if even God hated him. What kind of God doesn't grant His creation even the least bit of relief? So you played God, helping him crush his violet pills when he couldn't get up.

So you played God, letting him bleed on your kitchen counter as long as he cleaned up after himself and discarded the razor blades safely.

He’d sway in your balcony afterwards, dance to some music only the doomed could hear. He’d smile affectionately at you when he caught you looking at him through your half-asleep eyes.

“Mein egoistischer Liebhaber,” he whispered once in your ears while uncut blissful rapture fell upon you, while you pathetically crumbled under him. You didn’t know what he meant, whether it even was something or just his fervid groans taking the shape of foreign words for the amusement of the same God.

Yet those words, you recall their sound, clear as an azure lake, distinct as his emerald irises.

Their meaning didn’t ignite curiosity in you, you still don’t know what they mean. Just the way he said them felt familiar to you. And for that reason alone, you remembered them.

You remembered them every time he looked into your eyes with his dilated pupils after you denied him entry to your apartment in the dead of the night because someone else’s naked body laid across your battered bed.

“I'll crash on the couch, please...”

“No.”

“I won't disturb anyone, I promise!”

“I said no.”

But you let him in tonight, and he’s talking about something, lying beside you as your phone lets you know it’s 4am.

He’s talking about something incoherent again; some apocalypse, some catastrophe, all equally meaningless to you. He talks and talks and let’s you know, finally after a long painful soliloquy, that he has to go away again and maybe this time, he won’t return. You understood that part only, the rest brushes off your skin like mere carpet dust.

Does it bother you? You can’t tell. He says he wants to be loved tonight, very well then.

You give him what he wants. You kiss him on his parched mouth, you take him in like you’re parched of him. His honeydew skin dissolves on your tongue, his fingers wander on your bitter body with endless love. Love...what was that again?

You let him come inside of you. Let a part of him linger in you just for a bit. He kisses you on the temple. You could feel him quivering, holding onto you, tight enough to leave bruises.

He says he’ll miss you.

He asks you to turn around, face him while falling asleep.

And you shouldn’t cry but you are.

It is hard to love Klaus. And you don’t really love him...do you?

#klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader smut #robert sheehan #robert sheehan x reader #robert sheehan x reader smut #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #umbrella acedmy #klaus hargreeves smut #tua klaus #tua imagine #tua #klaushargreevesedit #klaus hargreeves imagine #Spotify

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cher-writes · 4 years ago

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Silver Screen / Silver Pole | Robert Sheehan x Reader (18+)

Summary: A night of celebration in a LA strip club takes an interesting and unexpected turn when a contrarian actor winds up offending the wrong stripper. But night is long and the possibilities are endless, where will it take them?

Word Count: 7.3k

CW: Mention of sexual harassment, Consensual slapping, NSFW smut

A/N: This one is surprisingly not bloody at all and the smut isn't wild either so like most everyone can read it. Although it's emotionally very heavy. So, get ready to feel some shit. Hopefully you'll enjoy.

Special thanks to @crisis-of-joy for being there for me the whole month I took to complete this emotionally taxing fic and also for being my kind beta reader & editor.

Burning on it’s way down, the third glass of whiskey finally gave her some life she desperately needed. Deafening music throbbed throughout her veins, drowning the club in the background. She wanted to drown with it too but she couldn’t, she was there to work and rent for the month was already due. The fourth glass was on the verge of meeting with her bitter mouth when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t drink so much, you’ll trip on the stage,” Coco practically shouted in her ear. Coco was the only friend she had in that goddamn place and It wasn’t a very rare occurrence that Coco had to drag her blackout drunk body out of the club. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say she had a problem. Considering that she was already on her third strike of the month and the third drink of the night, Coco knew better than to let her get drunk this early.

“I can’t stay here and be sober at the same time,” she shouted back at Coco, “especially after...nevermind,” but decided against talking about it and instead focused her energy on finishing the fourth glass, which was gone just as quickly as the words stopped coming out of her mouth.

She could read the concern on Coco's face and sense the questions brewing behind it as Coco spoke up, “I want to know what the fuck is up with you but I have to go now, Caleb came home from school hours ago, it’s pretty late and I have to cook him dinner.”

“What happened to Larry? Can’t he take care of the kid? He’s fucking jobless anyway.”

“He got in a bad fight again. I can barely afford Caleb’s school fees and now the medical bills.”

“If only you had divorced him, you wouldn’t need to worry about it.”

“And if only you had been less violent towards customers, you wouldn’t be on the verge of getting fired. But, here we are.”

She furrowed her brows at this sudden sharp stab of truth by Coco and dealt with it the only way she knew how to, by ordering another drink. Coco crossed her arms letting out a deep sigh and said, “Look, I'm only trying to help you, (y/n). Sam wanted me to go up. You see that group seating in the fifth VIP booth? Up there. They are celebs and celebrating something so, ya know, good money. I said no cause, as I said I gotta go home, but I convinced him to let you go up there. It was hard given your recent less-than-favorable behavior, but I managed to.” Coco snatched the already empty glass from her hand and continued, “So stop drinking, go up there and get that money. And for the love of God, behave yourself or this might be your last night here.”

Giving her hand a quick but tight squeeze, Coco got up then soon after disappeared into the crowd. She thought to herself about how a last night there wouldn’t be so bad if she could afford it, and wanted another drink immediately to kill that thought, but Coco's words haunted her ears. She looked over her shoulder to see three men sitting in the booth, laughing.

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Her head was in a violent swirl, vision blurry. She was way too drunk to be spinning around the pole, but she had an audience to entertain and had no one but herself to blame.

When you walked around your house wearin' my sky blue Lacoste, the song was thudding against her skull. Pulling herself together, she counted every second, waiting for the song to end. She could feel the eyes on her, sticking to every bit of her, just as invasive as it was the very first day yet, she couldn’t care less. She had to live through it if she wanted the money and she needed the money if she wanted to live. The room was dancing circles around her as the tips came flying in, she kept counting the seconds, sliding down the pole, and your knee socks.

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She was swaying dangerously on her way down from the stage. If the song didn’t end when it did, she would have thrown up without a shadow of a doubt. At that point, she didn’t even know how or what she danced, only the awful sickness in her stomach let her know that it was more than she could take.

She needed to chat up the men, try and convince them to buy a champagne room before the next song came on, which she feared was way too soon for her liking. Nevertheless she tried to steady herself but the big glass platforms messed with her earnest efforts, nausea kicking her in the stomach once again, letting her know of her limits.

She didn’t ever really look at the men who sat in front of her, leering at her, they all looked the same, smelt the same and talked the same. So she followed the same old routine, bending down just enough to give them a view up her tits. Pressing her arms closer, she slurred, “What are we celebrating, gentlemen?”

She absolutely hated how she sounded pandering to men, two pitches higher. “My friend over here landed a role in a Spielberg film!” the middle one spoke up and pointed to the one sitting on the right side. The one in question grinned in response and repulsion licked the back of her neck at the sight of that. Yet she needed to please him, “That’s amazing! I’m sure I’ll be seeing your face on the billboards everyday now while driving,” she said and fantasized about having enough money to burn down all the billboards in LA and maybe LA with it too.

“Hell yeah you will!” the one in the middle spoke up and broke her reverie so she pretended he was supporting her fantasy instead. “Oh please! Speak for yourself!” the one on the right perked up in his seat and continued, “He’s literally working with Fincher AND he got engaged!”. The one in the middle gave a revolting smirk at the very humble revelation of his accomplishment and it was enough to turn her stomach or maybe it was the alcohol, she couldn’t really decipher.

“Oh really?” she looked at the man, tilted her head and said, “And you came to a stripclub to celebrate your engagement?”, her face deadpan. Notes of contempt stuck out like thorns from her voice, making her sound way more intense than she intended to.

He tensed up visibly at her sudden razor-edged tone and, even though she didn't want to, she had to ease the situation. I can’t piss off these bastards again, she kept repeating to herself like a mantra. “Boys will be boys!” she said, not being able to think of something better that wasn’t inherently insulting, and laughed the most disgusting laugh of her life. If she could she would pour gasoline down her throat just for uttering those words.

She couldn’t bear to linger at that conversation point anymore so she turned her attention to the man sitting on the far left. He looked distant and foreign, staring but not really looking at her. There was a peculiar absence behind his distinct green eyes, which she would even call beautiful under different circumstances. And that, something about that absence, made her want to zero in on him.

“And what about you? Did you win an Oscar or something?” mockery ringed clear in her voice, which brought his attention back to the presence. Startled slightly, he straightened his posture while saying, “No, not really... not yet at least,” he smiled sheepishly and continued, “I’m just here with them”.

“Come to think about it, I’ve never really seen you anywhere,” she said without thinking too much. In fact, she didn’t really pay enough attention to how he looked to recognize him even if she did.

Something intense flashed his eyes for a brief second. She couldn’t quite put her fingers on what it was but she could feel the energy shift very quickly between them.

“Oh I’ve been in things but I’d be surprised if you did see any of them,” his voice now stripped of the delicacy it previously held. She could feel the air between them getting unusually heavy, his words penetrating through her skin a bit too effortlessly, a bit too swiftly that it was unsettling.

“And why exactly would you be surprised?”

“You know...cause people like you don’t usually watch the kind of films I do.”

“What do you mean by ‘people like me?’”

“You know...people of your...stature,” he trailed off. Blood rushed the back of her neck as soon as the words hit her ears. She could feel her vision burning, a hot wave washed the crown of her skull, something unruly building at the base of her being. Clenching her jaw so as not to let it take over her, she said, “Stature huh? Fancy! I reckon from your accent that, wherever the hell you’re from, people get a kick out of looking down on others with such wispy language.”

She could sense the same unruly substance dancing behind his chest, but he was far better at keeping it on a leash.

“I wasn’t looking down upon you. What I was merely getting at is that some people aren’t cut for apprehending particular types of films,” he sounded snarky but calm, the type of calm that’s tainted with scorn, which only sent ripples of rage down her ribs.

“Oh so you think just because I’m a stripper by profession that I wouldn’t understand your low-budget dumb indie movies?” she was getting visibly worked up now. Traces of her seductive posture vanished long ago but there was a new hostile energy flowing through her stance.

“I didn’t say that -”

“No, of course you didn’t say that, you only meant that. You meant what you think and every one of you think that we aren’t people with brains and emotions. No, no, we’re just sacks of meat to ogle at in exchange of money, and then grope when you can’t keep it in your pants.”

“I think you're trying to put words in my mouth, this is -”

“God! you think you’re fucking better than me, don’t you? You contrarian little shit!” she could feel it in her bones. She knew what was coming. There were people behind, or maybe beside, her, trying to talk to her, probably. She could hear no one, not even the previously unbearable blaring music. She had tunnel vision and it was fixed on him. The air she breathed chafed her nose. Her nerves thumped as her heart leapt at irregular rapid intervals.

“Excuse me! but i neve -” he said as his body went alert. Posture anticipating something violent, flight or fight.

“You think you're better than me because I'm a stripper and you got enough money to buy me?” her voice was icy as she spoke, “You LA people are all the fucking same. You get a little money in your pockets and you think you own the world and anyone who isn’t jerking off to your pretentious bullshit isn’t worthy enough to deserve basic fucking decency. Huh is that it?” she quickly jumped on top of him, straddling him.

He was frozen under her as she leaned in and murmured, “Well then allow me to show you”, she pulled away, her left hand clutching his shoulder as right fist rose the air, “HOW FUCKING BETTER THAN ME YOU ARE!” then her fist crashed on the side of his mouth with all the force she could muster, releasing a knot built in her chest since she checked in with the manager in the evening. Hot, sweltering adrenaline was coursing through her veins.

The impact resulted in him burying his face in his right shoulder so she grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced him to face her. His lips were starting to swell up so she decided to help it. His eyes went blank as her fist met his face once more.

Involuntarily, her hand was raising in the air again when she felt a strong pull from behind. The security guard, twice her size, yanked her away from him. People gathered around them staring at her, the music stopped to her relief. The guard twisted her arms behind her back, enough to leave bruises that’ll sting for days to come. She couldn't move, her sight went hazy yet she felt this strange cool serenity soothe her tensed muscles. His friends were crowding him, probably consoling him. She could neither hear them nor make out their faces from her almost closed eyelids. She was pretty sure she was falling asleep in the guard’s painful hold until she heard a certain voice and the hair at the back of her neck stood up.

“What the fuck! She’s at it AGAIN? Sir, I'm so sorry -” Sam, the manager’s voice pierced her ears as he rushed into the booth. As he was talking to them, commotion rose in the background. She could feel blind rage beating with every thump of her heart. If it wasn’t for the guard holding her in place, she would have skinned him alive by now. She was struggling to free herself when Sam turned to her and said, “You! That’s it!” pointing his left index at her. “I’ve had just about enough of your drunkass assaulting fine gentlemen. You’re fired. Get out right now! And be grateful we’re not reporting you to the police.”

Suddenly everything went quiet in her head. She smiled, nothing behind her gaze. Grinning ear to ear like a maniac, she said, “I’m fired? Aww what’s gonna happen to you now Sam?”. She cooed, ''Whose tits and ass are you gonna grab from now on? Stella? I wonder if she’ll compare to me though.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sam almost hissed at her.

“Ohhh right! Of course, you don’t know what I’m talking about,” she said while still tussling with whatever little strength she had left to loosen herself from the guard’s excruciating grip. “You don’t know anything about how you sexually harassed me day after day, how your disgusting, slimy little hands grabbed my body against my will at every chance that you got. You knew how much I need the money from this job and you used that against me to keep me silent, threatening to fire me every time I made even a sound. But guess what fucker? I’m fired now! And I’m gonna tell everyone about HOW YOU TRIED TO -”

“Take her to the staff room!” Sam cut her off, “NOW!” And, as soon as the words left Sam's mouth, the guard put his palm over her mouth and started dragging her back. The hand over her mouth muffled her screams and she glanced at the man, now with swollen lips, looking at her with eyes filled with, what looked like, concern.

As she was getting dragged, she finally managed to sink her teeth into the guard’s palm resulting in him withdrawing his hand just enough to give her a small window of time to scream at Sam: “YOU MOTHERFUCKER I’LL BE BACK AND I’LL PEEL THE SKIN OFF OF YOUR SCALP FUCKING SON OF A BITCH I’LL -” Before she could finish, her voice got cut off again and she faded into the dimly lit passageway at the back of the floor.

------------

The cherry of her fifth cigarette shone brightly in the shivering cold as the smoke drifted up in the air and sluggishly faded away. Mouth agape, her eyes meticulously followed the faint trails left after their disappearance. She wondered where they went, where she’ll go. If it wasn’t this late, and the water wasn’t so cold, maybe she could have gone for a swim in the ocean. If the water wasn’t so cold maybe she would have let it swallow her even. She was calculating the probable temperature of the hypothetical water she’d marry someday when the sound of slow approaching footsteps entered her field of perception. She would have preferred to ignore it but the, somehow already familiar, voice spoke up, “Hey erm...” and left her no choice but to look. And there he was, the foreign man with the swollen lip, looking culpable. There were distinct imprints of guilt in his voice as he continued, “I saw you across the parking lot…um I was actually just leaving with my friends,” he pointed at a black Mercedes parked at the far end of the lot. “They’re waiting in the car anyway so I decided -”

“So you decided now that she’s fired from being a stripper, she's probably a hooker! Lemme go ask the price she’s selling at,” her gestures and voice was comical, “you know, dude if you’ve got a kink of getting beaten up non-consensually then you’re really good at getting it cause I might just be up for round two.”

He stared at her for a good few seconds with a perplexed face, as if trying to process her stream of logic. When he started speaking, he sounded genuinely hurt, “No! Jesus Christ I came to apologize. Can you just not be defensive for one second? I’m not a monster ya know!”

His sincerity caught her off guard. She had about five thousand ways of dealing with assholes prepared and ready to go but an actually decent person? Now that was rocky territory for her.

“Well, uh, that’s a first. Go ahead I guess?” she shrugged her shoulders.

“I apologize for saying what I said back in the club. I shouldn’t have insinuated that you aren’t intelligent enough to understand my films just because of your choice of profession. It was really shitty of me to say that, and nothing can justify it either. And I feel like I caused you to be fired, that’s also weighing heavily on my soul and I don't know how to make it up to you. Just, I hope that you can forgive me and, again, I apologize, earnestly. Please tell me how I can make it up to you,” he said and looked at her with a rueful expression.

She was at a loss of words. It had been years since anyone apologized to her, let alone that sincerely. After a considerable amount of silence, she gathered her fragmented thoughts and spoke up, “Whoa, whoa man, chill. You didn’t murder my family or anything so calm down,” she held up her open palms, the cigarette almost at it’s end. “Apology accepted, okay? And don’t feel bad, I would have been fired sooner or later given my questionable behavior ever since I joined, so it’s not on your conscience. And I’m sorry too,” her index and middle finger holding the cigarette gestured at his lips, “for, um, punching you so let’s call it an even.”

“Okay,” he nodded, “yeah okay,” sounding clearly more relaxed than before.

“You know it’s a miracle how long it took for me to get fired,” she mused, “oh no it wasn’t a miracle it was sexual harassment, ah I see now. Wonder what Sam saw in me though that was worth not firing me for this long even though I pulled so much shit,” she took a long drag of her weary cigarette. “Maybe I've got a talent for getting harassed or something...who knows?”

His face tensed up again as he said, “That’s...not right,” eyes pooling with the same worried look as before.

“I was joking, chill. Humor is an excellent way to deal with most everything really, especially trauma.”

“I am sorry for what you had to go through, it’s gut-wrenching. Can’t you lodge a complaint to the police?”

“Going to the pigs? As a sex worker? Who just got fired for being drunk and punching a man in front of many eye witnesses? Now that was humor, you’re quite good at it actually.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Besides, that’s like one of the first things you gotta learn to put up with if you’re working in this business. As unfair and grim as it is, men, no actually, people don’t see sex workers as human beings and I’m just too obstinate to accept that simple fact, or maybe too much of a pussy, depending on where one’s priorities lie.”

“I…don’t know what to say.”

“There is nothing to say.”

It was just setting in for her how beautiful he actually was. His crestfallen face was graced by two stunning green eyes, lush unruly curls sticking to his forehead, sharp jawline kissed with a scruffy goatee and the swollen lip throwing off the symmetry just right to make him look captivating, to say the least. In the chilly December ambience his face was a soothing sight to her eyes, his sweet voice kind to her drudging ears, his presence warm to her existence. And she wanted to hold onto the warmth, just for a bit longer.

“You said you wanted to make it up to me, right?” she said as the cigarette fell on the ground then died out under the crushing embrace of her cruel heels.

------------

“Well I'm Ro -” he said leaning against the passenger seat window, sitting half facing her.

“If you’re trying to say your name then don’t,” she cut him off quickly without averting her gaze from the road.

“Why?” he asked, staring at her intently yet without any emotion in particular.

“‘Cause it doesn’t matter. It’s better if we don’t know each other’s name. Names individualize people and that’s not necessary for tonight,” she answered nonchalantly as the neon lights of a passing by road sign illuminated her face and then faded into the past just as nonchalantly.

“Okay.”

She could feel his eyes on her, but it didn’t bother her, it wasn’t tainted. There was this unusual tranquility in the atmosphere of the car, this obscure but consistent serene rhythm. She felt a bizarre comfort in his presence and she could drive like this forever, on a never-ending road spiraling towards heaven or winding down pandemonium or just dissolving into the ether, with him sitting lazily on the side.

“Do you ever feel like that?” he spoke up absentmindedly, breaking into her almost fever dream.

“Huh?”

“The song, I feel like that often.”

She didn’t realize the radio was on, playing at quite a significant volume. She wondered if he had turned it on at some point and how long she was driving for without being present mentally.

This place will be the end of me. Take me out, LA. Take me out of LA, the voice from the radio filled the car to the brim.

“I don’t feel like that, I know that. I know I'll die here, kinda intrinsically...do you hate this place?”

“No, not hate. I just feel like I don't fit in here. It’s the way of life, it’s quite significantly different to what I was used to. The people and the city, it all feels hollow sometimes and every now and then i catch myself yearning for what I left behind me.”

“I see. Beautiful people and their beautiful problems.”

Silence fell in the car again. Except for the voice through the radio, Well this place is never what it seems.

“You don’t have to make small talk, you know. I'm fine with silence,” she said, finally looking at him for a brief second.

“Oh I know,” he was looking right into her eyes, unruffled. “I wasn’t making small talk, I just wanted to talk to you. That’s all.”

------------

The bleak fluorescent tube above buzzed in solidarity as the fatigued clock on the chipped convenience store wall dragged its hands and finally managed to tick at 2 am. The attendant was leaning on the counter, trying not to fall asleep when her voice echoed in the store: “$20 on pump 2.”

“I’ll pay”, he cut in, reaching for his wallet. “Okayyy...” she replied, narrowing her eyes at his benevolence and looked around the store which was significantly emptier that other nights. She closed her eyes for a second and the memories flashed behind her lids. She used to come here frequently, around this time, with someone when everything in her world was right, just right enough for her to not to seek out falling stars every night and wish for death over and over again. When she opened her eyes a shiny pack of Parliaments caught her gaze and she quickly gestured behind the counter, “Since you’re paying, can I get a pack of those also?”

“Sure”

“I remember surviving on those alone while writing my thesis papers,” she said wistfully, “good times.”

“You went to college?”

“University actually, but yeah.”

“Good lord.”

“But I had to drop out so I couldn’t complete my Master’s in Biochemistry.”

“Why?”

“Life.”

“I flunked out my first year of college so you did way more than I did in that regard.”

“Welp, look where that got me.”

“Don’t say that!”

“What?” she scoffed.

“Anything else?” the attendant interjected, visibly tired and clearly annoyed at their conversation.

She swiftly grabbed a lighter, “Can I get this too?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“That’ll be all,” she tossed the lighter towards the attendant and continued, “You’re clearly doing way better than me in life.”

“Are you being sarcastic?” he replied, raising an eyebrow.

“No. I meant that seriously. I’m the one who fucked up my life and that’s a fact. Say, how did you know what you wanted to do?”

“That’ll be $30”, the attendant interjected again.

“I don’t know. I started acting as a kid and it just seemed right. It’s all I've known really and I can't see myself as anything else,” he said as he passed the money to the attendant.

“I envy that.”

“I do sometimes ponder what I would have been if not an actor.”

“Wondering too much isn’t good,” she grabbed the goods and shoved them in her coat pocket, “It might make someone into me.”

She stopped right before the glass door, pulled the lighter out and flicked it on, “I’ll use it later,” she leaned in close to him with a frivolous smirk and whispered, “to burn this city down.”

He chuckled at her sudden gaiety, “I’d gladly assist.”

Pushing the door open, she continued as he followed behind her, “Did you see the way that dude rolled his eyes to you? He definitely thought you were with a blabbering hooker and to be honest, my make up probably didn’t help either. Oh well it's not like -” her voice slowly evaporated into the gloomy gas-station lights.

------------

“So beautiful,” he said with awe looking over the vast and apparently endless ocean which the full, eternal moon bathed with its silver glory.

She clutched at her coat sleeves as the chilly wind sent shivers down her body and said, “I know right? I’ve always found the sea to be peaceful during this time of the night.”

“It’s lovely, I’ve never been to this beach before.”

“It’s my favorite spot actually, I used to come here pretty often,” melancholia dripping from her voice. She paused for a little while as if going over a mental checklist and said, “let’s go sit down there,” and pointed towards a vague place in the distance.

They walked down the beach for a bit side by side, knuckles occasionally brushing against each other’s, making them want to hold hands, feel the warmth of another being. But the hesitance of the yet to be known, the uncertainty of a nameless stranger clouded their minds and prevented them from reaching out.

She stopped, sat down and gestured to him to do the same by tapping the cold sand beside her. He sat a bit too far for her liking so she huddled up closer to him saying, “You blaze right?”

“Sure.”

“Cool,” she said, taking out a small bag from an inside pocket of her coat, “keep an eye out for me while I roll it.”

They sat in silence as she rolled a joint meticulously. The waves kept crashing on the shore as if fulfilling some ancient duty. Wind rustled through the empty beach. Sand glimmered sporadically under the warm light of the moon, creating a transcendental atmosphere.

He sighed and thought out loud, interrupting the intoxicating stillness of the night, “Where do we go from here?”

“Other than plotting the murder of Sam, I don’t know about me,” she replied without looking up from the task at hand, “Don’t really wanna think about it tonight. That’s why I took you along with me. I wanted someone to keep me distracted from my thoughts and I had no one to go to...then you came to apologize, like my knight in shining armor.”

He smiled wryly and said, “I see.”

“What about you? What are you gonna do about your not fitting in or what was it?”

“I don’t know either. I just miss my people. I’m not meant for here, I think.”

“So can’t you go back there? To your home I assume?”

“I can...”

“Then go. Why the fuck would you stick around if you had the option to go back?”

“Maybe.”

“Huh! I wish I had a home to go back to too.”

She could see him from the corner of her eyes, clenching his knees tight with his fingers at her words, bringing them closer to his chest. She looked up to see him staring at her with his big, beautiful, hurt-puppy eyes.

“Did that make you sad or something?” she asked, almost amused.

“Yeah...yeah it did.”

His apparent empathy for a literal stranger who also punched him not so long ago struck her as odd and oddly enticing. He looked unreal to her in the strange moonlight, as if a remote but vivid memory. She felt as though if she reached out and touched him, he’d turn to dust and drift off with the wind. Those intense eyes and his fey beauty were getting too much for her to bear so she averted her gaze towards the ocean and said, “There’s no use for your or anyone’s sadness. You see, sadness changes nothing. Unless you can start a capital R revolution tomorrow, everything will be the same. It’ll be the same day with slight variations over and over again, things will repeat and go on and on and on until one day humanity just goes poof somehow and then the universe will go on as if we never even happened. There’s no significance of our lives, there’s no point in feeling sad about anything in this set up. One must always imagine Sisyphus happy.”

“That’s quite pessimistic, isn’t it?”

“Kinda absurdist actually, but It’s hard not to be pessimistic or defensive, when you have to lead a life like mine.”

“I understand.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do, “Glamour Boy,’” she said, licking the rolling paper.

He put his hand over his chest and feigned being hurt which made her laugh; a clear, hearty laughter. The beach echoed with a faint sound of the laughter of two stray souls as he joined in.

The joint hanged from her lips, sensual and reckless like an erotic magazine model, burning bright as she took a long drawn-out drag.

“Say, do you think the water is cold?” she said, passing the joint to him.

He took in a drag, inhaling some of her used up smoke with it too, tasting her cheap but obscenely sweet fruity lip gloss at the filter tip, “Yeah...very much so”.

She huddled up even closer to feel the heat of his body as he passed the joint back to her. Taking in another drag, she leisurely put her head on his shoulder.

The sedating smoke sank into their lungs as the sand anchored them from floating off in the elating static of the enveloping darkness.

------------

“Is this it?” she said, pulling up to a posh apartment complex, something she wouldn’t be able to afford even after paying off her debts.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he replied absently and unbuckled his seatbelt.

She was looking ahead at the road, expecting him to get out of the car, but he sat in silence. She looked at him and saw him laid back on the seat as if being consumed by it, tracing the edge of the left air vent softly with his fingers. He sighed and said, still looking at his busy fingers: “I feel strange and fucking awful.”

“It happens sometimes after coming down a high.”

“It’ll be a pain in the arse going to bed feeling like this.”

“I know,” her eyes travelled down the flow of his posture, giving birth to an urge of some aboriginal origin in her loins, “but you don’t have to.”

He turned his head towards her slowly, lethargy clear in his slow breathing pattern, “What do you mean?”

“Push your seat back.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

He furrowed his brows, alarmed by her sudden gratuitous command. He looked at her; motionless as if not even breathing awaiting his compliance and her eyes glinted with expectancy. He pushed his seat back, as far as it could go then parted his lips to say something but before the words could get out, she virtually jumped on top then sat astride him.

A deathly stillness engrossed the car as her previous bellicose energy returned to the atmosphere, only this time rather ardent in nature. His heart, instantaneously racing, almost audible to her.

“You know,” she said taking off her top, “dopamine is a hormone and neurotransmitter that’s an important part of your brain’s reward system, and it can elevate your mood and make you feel really good.”

Eyes wide with surprise, he struggled to keep his gaze fixed on her face as she unbuttoned his shirt. Her fingertips snaked up and down his smooth chest as if caressing a sumptuous painting one is not allowed to touch. She felt his taut muscle tighten at her touch, veins kindled with a hot rush pulsing under. Burying her face in the hollow of his neck, she felt the heat of his body as she pressed her chest against his. His breathing picked up it’s pace even more at the contact with her flushed skin.

“Do you ever get lonely?” she spoke up letting her lips skim over his bare shoulder.

“Terribly,” his voice breathy as he placed his hands on her hips hesitantly, not possessively, but affectionately.

“I do too.”

“What do we do about it?”

“Maybe we don’t do anything.”

“Maybe.” he said resting his right cheek against her head, “or maybe we keep each other company.”

“But for how long?”

“However long we need to.”

A mirthless laugh rippled from her lips then through his skin. She pulled back to look him in the eyes, curious green mixed with an unfamiliar kind of sorrow, a sorrow too costly for her. “Lust and attraction shut off the prefrontal cortex of the brain, which includes rational behavior,” she said, knocking softly on his temple.

“Makes sense.”

Cupping his face, she stroked his swollen lips with her rough thumbs, making him wince in response. The purple bruise steadily forming on the side of his mouth marred his flawless complexion yet his allure only enhanced. Her thumb rubbed on the bruise with reckless abandon, his flinches testifying to that. Withdrawing her hands from his face, she left a light peck on the bruise and said, “Slap me.”

“What?”

“Slap me, come on, I'm giving you a chance to get back at me for earlier.”

“No!”

“Prude!”

“Hey! I just don’t want to hurt you, especially not as revenge or what not,” he sounded genuinely offended.

She leaned in, “But I want to get hurt, silly,” her lips ghosting over his as she whispered, “Endorphins are our body’s natural pain reducer and it so happens to increase when we engage in reward-producing activities, such as eating, working out, or having sex.” She pulled away and continued, “So hit me. Hard.” His adam’s apple bobbed up then down as he searched at her face, as if trying to find some sort of sign. His fingers dug in her hips, indicating the upcoming crude impact. Her palms laid flat against his chest as his left hand rose then crashed against her face. Her fingers curled in response as she gasped weakly, eyes shut closed but the tensity clear in the lines on her eyelids and forehead.

“Ah... that was good,” she said as if talking to herself, caressing her cheek. When she opened her eyes, she found him staring with uncertain eyes, the doubt readable in the way he bit his lips.

“Just like that, once more,” her firm voice ringed in the vehicle. His hand cruelly collided once again with her face, leaving her face warm and red.

“Good boy,” she cooed as the sharp sting eddied on her cheek and then through her whole body, easing her off some unknown yet intrinsic discomfort. Her chest pounded in sync to his as she spoke up, “Do it for me once again, won’t you?”

Pressing his teeth even deeper into his lips, he struck her once again, with as much strength as he had. A white light flashed before her eyes, her ears ringed as she sat in silence for a bit. When her vision became clear, she held his face between her palms. Leaning closer, she rested her temple against his and murmured, “Such a good boy.”

Sweat dripped down as her nose grazed up the side of his neck, she could feel him growing hard through his pants. She buried her face in his curls and breathed in. He smelt sugary, sweet to the extent of almost making her nauseous. She whispered against his ear, “You’ve got a boner...it turned you on this much to hurt me?”

“It’s, um, n-not really that part it’s the -” he stammered in embarrassment.

“Ugh men,” she cut him off and rolled her eyes playfully. “But since we’ve got a situation at hand, and you’ve been so good to me, I think you deserve some relief for yourself,” she said, tugging at his waistband. To which he responded eagerly, elevating his hips just enough so she could slip his pants off as much as possible. His head sank back into the headrest as her hands wrapped around his cock. Her hand gilded up and down his length as her other hand ran through his hair, pulling lightly. Resting his forehead on her shoulder, he quivered and moaned softly as she lovingly yet mercilessly worked on him. His breath hitched sharply as she stroked the tip of his cock with her thumb, making him groan and twitch under her touch. She was about to pick up the pace when he grabbed her wrist abruptly. “Wait!” he rasped, “I wanna...feel you.”

He panted, trying to catch his breath and said, “Let’s take this inside, there might be people around.”

“Why? Are you afraid of getting photographed with a hooker by the paparazzi, Mr. Actor?"

“No”, he answered, the same hurt as earlier could be heard in his voice, the type of hurt when one is misunderstood by someone they love, “I just - I just want it to be nice.”

“Let’s not make it too nice lest you fall in love with me,” she said sternly. “Besides, you should be more concerned about getting STDs. There should be some condoms in the glove box and also tissues for later.”

He brought his face closer to hers, looked at her lips and said, “You’ve got such a mean mouth, you know that?”

“And you like it?”

“Perhaps”, he replied then kissed her, deeply. Holding her face in his head, he bit her lips which made her moan in his mouth. After running out of breath she pulled away, still tasting his saliva on her tongue as he reached behind her and rifled through the glove compartment. Having found what he wanted, he turned on the radio then returned his focus to her; she was hiking up her dress and awkwardly slipping off her panties in the short space.

Heavy bass filled the car, I wanna be your vacuum cleaner breathing in your dust, as the sky started to light up with shades of azure and tangerine. Her tongue blended with his as she took his cock in her. Their bodies pressed and flushed against each other as a steady rhythm flowed through them. Her nails scratched his nape, as he kissed her neck, nibbling at her collarbone. Her head shot back as he thrust up into her, frantic and keen. His groans muffled in her chest, her moans melting into his hair as their hips clashed against one another.

Maybe I just wanna be yours.

I wanna be yours.

------------

The sparkling rays of the breaking dawn illuminated his face as he cleaned himself off and got dressed. She marveled from the driver’s seat at the magnificence of the sight of him in afterglow. There was something in him, something innate, that made him stand out from anyone she ever came across. He was made for the screen, he was made to shine, and she wondered whether or not he’ll remember her afterwards. It was for the better if he didn’t, she thought to herself, as this was probably one of the lowest points in his life, while that night was most definitely one of the highlights of hers. The sheer dichotomy was glaring at her soul when he spoke up, bringing her attention back to the present, “I was wondering if you’d like to -”

“Look if you want my name or number, then that’s just not gonna happen,” she said with a sigh, “It’s the oxytocin flooding your brain. Increased levels of oxytocin facilitate attachment and bonding and shit so, like, don’t be fooled.”

“But it’s not that, I feel a connection between us...something I haven’t felt with anyone here before.”

He averted his eyes from her and looked out the window. His hand lingered on the door handle for a second before he stepped out of the car. Turning his back towards the car, he walked into the apartment complex, without saying anything further. Her foot pressed on the accelerator, as the car drove past the buildings. A Parliament washed out the leftover taste of him in her mouth as she rolled down the window to let the nauseously sweet scent dissipate into the cold morning air.

“It is that. Believe me, I know. There is nothing between us. Whatever connection you feel is your hormones doing bullshit things.”

“You’re just evading me”

“I’m not. I do actually know. Okay, for instance you feel really tired and sleepy right now, right?”

“Yeah”

“That’s the parasympathetic nervous system down-regulating your body and a shit load of vasopressin coursing through you”

“But that could also be because we stayed up all night and got high and just had sex”

“Why don’t you understand? It’s all chemicals, everything! There is nothing called love and whatever the fuck people feel is just their chemicals doing somersaults. There is nothing between us, we don’t know each other. There can be nothing either, look at the circumstances. People like you shouldn’t have to do anything with people like me unless it requires a monetary transaction.”

“But i can help, with whatever you’re dealing with”, he said reaching to place his hand over hers, “we can help each other”

“and what exactly do you think i’m dealing with?, she asked, withdrawing her hand, eyes narrowed at him.

“I don’t know yet”

“Exactly. You don’t know anything. I’m not some sad little girl who went to college then got depressed but in a sexy way so maybe she did drugs or whatever and dropped out and now strips for fucking aesthetic reasons probably. No honey, I’m involved with shit that can drag you down faster than a meth withdrawal and my life is a living testimony of that, take my word for it. So, go get some rest. Sleep out your saviour complex and live out your promising life when you wake up.”

232 notes · View notes

cher-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Akratic Ardor | Robert Sheehan x Reader (18+)

Word count: 1.5k

CW: Blood, Bruises, Cuts, Sadism, Masturbation, Intense Choking, Slapping, Brief passing out, Dead dove: Do not eat

A/N: This one is fucking wild even by my standard. DO NOT RECREATE ANYTHING FROM THIS FIC IN REAL LIFE. I tried to incorporate consent and safe word usage but under such intense situations those might not suffice so I want to reiterate THIS IS A WORK OF PURE FICTION FOR FANTASY PURPOSES ONLY. DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE ATTEMPT TO RECREATE ANY OF THESE. IT'S NOT SAFE AND MIGHT RESULT IN SERIOUS DAMAGE TO DEATH. Reader discretion is HEAVILY advised.

He was bleeding from his nose and his mouth. Bar fight, you figured. Robert didn’t come around to your place unless he was drunk at 3am in the bar just round the corner to your apartment complex and needed to, well, fuck someone. When you opened the door you were rolling your eyes, expecting the familiar drunk, handsy, beautiful mess of a man but what greeted you was more on the gruesome side.

You let him in, he was swaying lightly. Without saying anything he fell on the couch and groaned in pain. His clothes were in a mess, torn at places. “What happened?”, you asked as you sat down beside him. “I... g- in- a fig-”, you could hardly make out what he was saying from all the puddled up blood in his mouth. “Do you need something to spit in?” you asked and he nodded slowly in return. So you got up and brought a bowl from the kitchen. But instead of handing it over to him you stood there staring at him. Something flipped in you when you took in clearly and completely what he looked like.

His lips were split and swollen, cuts on his nose, vibrant purple and red bruises graced his angelic face. His usually lush curly hair was in a roughed up mess. You placed the bowl on the coffee table and sat down beside him. Your actions left him confused and you could see it in his face, beside the obvious pain. He was slowly reaching out to take the bowl when you moved in closer and grabbed his hand. He furrowed his brows at you and was preparing to say something when you placed your right hand under the side on his jaw lightly, making him wince. Your thumb traced his lips covered in the crimson viscid liquid. Blood was dripping from the sides of his mouth, down his pale neck. “Can i kiss you?” you asked abruptly. He narrowed his eyes at your odd request then shrugged saying “i gues- bu- wh-'' and before he could finish your lips were crashing on his. He moaned in pain as you forced your tongue into his mouth which he was hesitant to open at first. The taste of warm copper filled your mouth and he struggled to keep his posture right under your aggressive movements. You didn’t let him go until all the puddled spit and blood from his mouth was in your system. When you pulled away his eyes were wide with shock, trying to process what just went down. He was bracing himself to say something when you spoke up instead: “I wanna fuck you”

- “Like right now?”

-“Yes. Right now. Like this”

-“What? Wh-”

-“Actually no scratch that. I wanna see you jerk off”

He was visibly at a loss of words. Searching your face for clues to understand what was going on inside of you head. It was you again who broke the silence: “Unless you're like seriously injured or something. Do you need to go to the doctor?”

-“No…..i don’t think so…”

-“Great then! Take off your pants and lie back”

Rob stared at you with a bewildered face for a few more seconds then slowly proceeded to take off his jeans. When he was done, he rested against the arm of the couch and you got on top soon after, straddling him.

You ran your fingers over the bruises and scratches on his beautiful face resulting in him hissing from pain. There was something so intoxicating about his vulnerability. Seeing him in pain was driving you into a passionate malady. As you unbuttoned his shirt you could see purple bruises all over his collarbones, shoulders and chest. He was sweating under your fervid touch, mid july stickiness. He pressed his teeth together, hissing in pain as you caressed and then firmly pressed into each and every inflamed blot decorating his smooth clammy body.

“Scarlet”, you said “That’s your safe word, use it if i go too far”, you forced his face up by the chin with your thumb and index finger, “Understood?”. He nodded and you could feel his adam’s apple bobbing under your fingers. “Also don’t swallow, keep it in your mouth for me”, your voice cold and commanding. Your fingers then found their ways into his curls. Grabbing a handful you pulled his head to the side, exposing the side neck. Your other hand danced on his nape, nails digging in as you left hickeys on his neck. Whenever your mouth sucked on a bruise, he whimpered as the pangs hit him. His skin shuddered under your warm tongue as you licked him clean of all the dried up blood on his chest, collarbones, neck and face. You wanted to devour him, you wanted to consume him in his pain and vulnerability. A burst of red bloomed like carnation on Rob’s split lip which urged you to kiss him harshly, and you did, harsh enough that he'd feel it in the morning along with everything that came before it and everything that would come after it. He was nothing but a prey to you in that moment.

You grinded on him as your tongue went over his bleeding gums, you felt him getting hard under you as you drained his mouth off all the blood and spit it had accumulated since your previous voyage into it. You bit into his swollen lip making him moan into your mouth, which soon disappeared under your wet tongue. When you were done ravishing his weak mouth, you pulled away. He stared at you, mouth agape and panting, as if you took away the air he breathed. You cupped his face and said “take off your briefs now and jerk off”. He raised his brows saying, “you sure that’s, em, what you want?”, you could detect notes of apprehension along with desperation in his raspy voice.

“Yes. Exactly.”

You got off him and Rob did as he was told, scrabbling at his briefs with clumsy hands while you waited impatiently. His cock laid straight against his stomach when he freed it from it’s confinement. He discarded the briefs and as soon as it hit the floor, you were straddling on top of him once again except for this time, keeping enough of a distance that his hands can work on his cock. You grabbed his left wrist, twisting with a firm and cruel grip, guiding him onto his cock.

His skin was burning and he breathed like the air might run out at any moment. When he was going with a steady rhythm, you let his wrist go and looked him in the eyes, beautiful green eyes filled with agony and pleasure, and said “Scarlet, remember.”.

And with that your hands were around Rob’s throat, fingers pressing on the sides, just at the right spot to cut off the blood flow to his brain. His eyes went wider and wider as you slowly increased the pressure, his hand picking up the pace with it too. He looked so pretty in agony, completely under your command, that you wanted to fuck him right then but it wasn’t everyday you’d get him like this, bloody and bruised, so you preferred to relish the sight instead.

He was holding onto your waist with his right hand, hard enough that it’ll leave marks there. Eyes were tearing up, his face pale from the lack of blood flow. He was looking at you through the tears, pain blooming in his neck and fire in his loin. A mixture of anguish and euphoria played over his face as he gritted his teeth. Throaty groans muffled under your palms as his hand glided up and down, faster and sloppier and then suddenly it stopped. His eyes rolled back into his skull, head fell back and his body went limp under you.

Shivers went down your spine at that sight and you let go of his neck immediately. Your mind was racing with a thousand thoughts per second, did you go too far? You didn’t know what to do so you panicked and slapped him across the face as hard as you could. His lips started bleeding again and he came back gasping for air from the impact, tears streaming down his face, mixing with the fresh blood.

"Fuck," Rob grits out as his body went stiff, trembling and he came all over his chest and stomach. He was panting, eyes barely open, sweating and red from all the blood rush. You stared at him, stunned trying to register what the fuck just went down. Bruised, bloody, sweaty, ruined with cum dripping down his body, he looked heavenly and you drank in the sight before you like wine.

“Is- is this wh-what you wanted?”, he barely manages to say. “Yeah..babe you did so good but are you okay?”, you asked. As turned on as you were, you were also equally concerned after the little impromptu scare he pulled. “Yeah yeah. I just feel a bit lightheaded”, he said and his breathing was slowly returning back to normal. “Let’s get you some water and then clean you up. First aid and a warm bath, sounds good?” you said as you leaned in closer to him and he smiled lazily in reply. You kissed him on his bruised lips in return, only this time tenderly and with love. He's been through enough pain for your gratification and you had all the intentions to make it up to him later on.

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cher-writes · 5 years ago

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Aphrodisiac | Vladek Klimov X Reader (18+)

Read part 1

Word count: 4.5k

CW: NSFW, Drugs, Blood, Self inflicted wound, Choking, Ritualistic sex

A/N: This one is a wild one, people. Read the warnings carefully and skip this one if you don't feel like it. Reader discretion is advised.

When you woke up, he was gone. The emptiness beside you sank into your skin and turned into a bottomless pit in your stomach. You slowly sat up and looked at the lonely clock ticking on your wall, 12pm. Orgasm induced sleep was always one of your greatest sedatives, but straight six hours after a night full of sleep? That was a bit too long. But after last evening and this morning, you couldn’t blame your body either. You wondered if you dreamt it all but the blood stains on your sheets told you otherwise. You lowered your nose and inhaled deeply, it smelt like him.

Ever since that day melancholy stained your whole existence. You had Vladek out of nowhere, in all that he is, but just as quickly he might as well have vanished from existence. The memory of him smiling softly and stroking your cheeks with his thumb before leaving you, came back to you afterwards. You were confused about whether or not you were imagining it to make yourself feel better. You wanted to be angry at him for leaving you without saying anything, but all you could feel was sad and empty. It was undeniable that you wanted him, more than you’ve ever wanted anyone or anything. Night after night you laid awake in your tub or the couch, thinking of him. There was a void in your heart, as if you’ve lost someone you’ve known for centuries. The pain was so intense that the ridiculousness of the situation didn’t quite register in your mind. He left you a mess in his wake. It felt at times, he took half of your heart with him. Everywhere you went, your eyes looked for him and before long, they found him.

You were sitting at the local restaurant that day, having breakfast as you didn’t feel like cooking. Well, more like fiddling with the food as your appetite was more or less dead ever since then. You were looking out of the window distractedly but your reverie broke when the waiter came by to offer you more coffee. After declining him,you were getting ready to jump right back into your woolgathering but something caught your eyes. It had become a second nature for you at that point to look for him, and at first you didn’t believe your eyes, after all you had been more or less delirious ever since he left you. But sitting a few tables in front of you, it was unmistakably that coat which you helped him out of that fateful evening. Those curls, you’d recognise them anywhere, you could almost feel those at your fingertips. Without a doubt it was him, you were taken aback by how quickly you recognised his back since all of this happened in the matter of a few milliseconds. He was talking to a town cop. You felt blood rush to the back of your neck as he soon got up, all the fervid memories from that morning flooding your mind. He turned around to leave and as he was walking by, he caught you in his gaze. He halted and smiled at you softly. By that point your brain had stopped working but for some reason your body decided to stand up abruptly, so quick that you almost knocked over the plate of food on the table. You walked up to him and stood inches away from his chest, your face completely blank. “Hey” he said with that heavy accent and ever so calm voice. “Hey um why did you leave without telling me?” you practically blurted out, voice shaking and breathless. He raised his brows slightly and said “Can we talk outside? In private?”. Your brain was a puddle at this point but you nodded quickly, somehow. Vladek flashed you another gentle smile and gestured to follow him.

You had been walking in silence for a while when he took a sharp turn into a dark desolate alley.

Being obsessed over a man you've known for less than 24 hours in total, was one thing but following him into dark alleys was a whole 'nother ball game! Even in your passionate malady you understood that fact but you just couldn’t stop yourself. His magnetic field pulled you in and like a lemming, followed his trail. When he stopped, you almost bumped into him but saved yourself from the embarrassment at the last moment. “Sorry i left that day without telling you” Vladek spoke up as he looked into your eyes, “I needed to be somewhere, it was urgent and i didn’t wanna wake you up. You look so pretty when you’re asleep”. It infuriated you how vague he always was. What did he mean exactly by ‘needed to be somewhere’? But you didn’t have it in you to ask him anything further. It was just like if God appeared in front of you out of nowhere in all his splendor, you wouldn’t be able to ask why he made things the way that he did. Besides him calling you pretty, basically killed every ounce of objection you had against him. “Oh. I see. I’m sorry i, um, i shouldn’t have lashed out like that” you meekly said in return. “It’s okay, (Y/N). It’s not your fault” he said and indeed it wasn’t your fault. He had this strange effect on you that made you do things you had no control over. He was staring at your eyes, breaking the eye contact once to look down at your lips and back to staring again. It was chilling cold outside and the tension between the two of you was agonizing. You could feel his warm breath on your face. You were inching closer, wanting to seize the opportunity and bask your lips in the heat of his lips. But he spoke up and jolted you back to your senses again, “Will you, em, help me with something?”. And at that moment if he asked you to jump off a cliff, you would.

You were walking in circles around the mattress which laid in the middle of your living room. You did as you were told. You were taking deep breaths, trying to control your breathing but you could practically hear your heart, beat out of your chest. You didn’t quite remember what exactly he explained, you couldn’t pay attention. All you heard was “ritual” and “sex”.

But like a diligent student you mentally noted down the few instructions that he gave- put a mattress on an empty floor, do not ingest any substance and wait. He said he’d arrive as soon as the sun went down on the new moon evening. It was quite cold inside due to your damn heater malfunctioning but you were on the brink of sweating as you stared at your front door in anticipation and before long, you could hear knocks.

When you opened the door, cold wind washed over your body but you didn’t feel a thing. Vladek was standing there in his mask and glasses and for a split second all the murder and the rumors flashed through your mind. Yet you weren’t afraid, cause you believed, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was there to save you and the town. You stepped to the side to let him in. As soon as he was inside you closed the door and awkwardly stood leaning against the door frame.

He promptly took off this mask and his coat. One look at that face and your heart was racing at a thousand miles per hour again. “Hey (Y/N)” he said, his face unreadable. You greeted him in return.

-“Do you mind if we start right now?”

- “No, no. Not at all”

He nodded and then crouched over the bag that he brought with him. There was a silent rush in his movements. After a little bit of rifling through, he pulled out a small bottle.

He walked up to you with the bottle in his hand, you could feel the air getting heavier. The bottle was clear and you could make out some sort of an oil inside. “I need you to anoint yourself with this before you cleanse yourself”, his voice was quite raspy. His fingers brushed against yours as you took the bottle from his hands and your skin burned at thiat slight contact. “What type of water?” you almost whispered. He raised his brows slightly at your question, the corner of his mouth curled up a bit as he said “huh?”. “Do i use cold water or warm water? Do I take a bath or a shower? Also do i-” you were rambling on when he chuckled and said “okay okay (Y/N), calm down. Just wash your body in any water, however you want. If anything specific is to be done i’ll tell you, yeah?”. You nodded meekly. You were beyond nervous and you felt detached from your body. But when you looked at him, all you wanted to do was to touch his face and then maybe throw him against the wall. But you couldn’t do that, not yet. So you collected all your thoughts and yourself then made your way to the bathroom.

When you were done taking a shower, your body felt more relaxed. All the tension built in your muscles for the past couple hours, no- past couple of days, washed away with the warm water. Although was that because of the warm water or the fact that he was waiting for you in the living room, was debatable. Your body smelt of strange wild flowers from the oil. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you were on your way.

You were deliberately walking slow. With every step that you took, your heartbeat started going up again. The reality of the situation was just setting in, you were about to participate in some sort of a sex ritual with vladek. The thought in itself sent shivers down your core. You were contemplating turning around and running out the back door when your feet finally arrived at the entrance of your living room. Your breath hitched and you stopped in your tracks when you saw him standing there in white pajama pants. The room was dark, there were candles circling the mattress. A skull decorated with blood red fathears sat facing the mattress. A knife rested by the side of the mattress. The warm yellow glow of the candles reflected off his smooth body as he turned around, a chalice in his hands. He looked ethereal and adrenaline rushed your body. Whether out of fear or lust, you didn’t know.

Vladek walked up to you, took a sip from the chalice and then handed it to you, “here, drink this”. And you did without much hesitation. It tasted quite bitter and you wondered how easily he could poison you. And as if he could read your mind he said, “Don’t worry, i’m not poisoning you. It’s an aphrodisiac mixed with mild relaxants”. His presence in itself was anesthetic for you and his voice more of an aphrodisiac than any substance will ever be. He took the chalice from your hands and put it on the floor. As you watched him you thought to yourself how cruel he was for using you like this even if it was for saving the town. At this point you didn't worry about the town or your own life, he could stab you with that knife for all you cared. He was cruel for using your infatuation and you'd be damned for eternity if you said you didn't relish every moment of it. “Is there anything you want to ask me (Y/N)?” he said in a mellow voice.

-“Why do this ritual?”

-“To save fortitude”

-“But how does this help?”

-“You see, only a woman is the most wise and powerful, feared by all. Loved by all the shamans.The knowledge of good and evil is tied at its root to sexuality and it is only through the height of orgasm that Gnosis can be achieved. And when the woman orgasms the veil between the worlds collapses and communicating with them is possible. I need to talk to them and ask for strength for what i need to do next”

You wanted to ask him what it all meant. What was gnosis, who are “they” and how the fuck could you possibly collapse the veil but again, you didn’t have it in you to ask him more than two things at a time. “Are you sure you want to do this? (Y?N), I want you to know that this is only for spiritual purposes and you can say no now or at any time during the ritual if you want to. I need you to be fully willing”, the softness in Vladek’s voice was hurting you this point. You nodded a yes quickly. You two then stood in silence staring at each other for what seemed like a lifetime to you until he extended his right hand to you. You figured he was asking you to disrobe. You unraveled the towel and handed it to him which he swiftly discarded. You were completely naked under his stare yet you didn’t feel a hint of embarrassment, there was something so sacramental in the ambience or maybe it was just the drugs. “Okay step in the circle carefully” he said and you complied. “Now get down on your knees over the mattress”, you obeyed like your life depended on it and sat facing him. He picked up sage from his bag and lit it. Soon the room was filled with smoke, you could barely see anything. He was going around you in circles, occasionally bringing the sage so close that you could feel its heat on your skin, all while chanting something. His movements were ceremonial. Then he stopped, laid the still burning sage on the chalice and stepped in the circle, murmuring through out. You were unnaturally calm for your nature, your heart was beating in a soothing rhythm. When you looked up, he was standing, towering over you. In the heavy fragrant smoke and dull candle lights his frame looked celestial, you couldn’t quite make out his eyes. He then slowly lowered himself until he was on his knees too, eye to eye with you. The close proximity to him kicked something in you and adrenaline flooded you once again. He reached to your side and grabbed the knife. Vladek was looking directly into your eyes, his stare supernatural, as he slashed a bit over his collarbone. Blood oozed out and then started dripping down his chest, soaking his white pants. Your jaw dropped at this sight, yet he didn’t move a muscle. He closed his eyes and uttered something then proceeded to draw symbols in some ancient language on his chest with the blood. When he was done he opened his eyes and said “trace these glyphs with your tongue”, his voice was commanding yet tender. It was getting hard for you to keep your thoughts together so you did as you were told.

You started at the top, he hissed slightly when you licked the wound. The coppery taste of the blood and his warm skin were creating a sensation in your tongue you had never felt before. His silky smooth chest rose up and down slowly while you were tracing all the strange symbols. When you were done you sat back waiting for the next instruction. Instead he cupped your face and wiped the blood from your lips with his thumbs. At that exact moment you understood what was wrong with you since the day you met him; He put a spell on you by his beauty then cursed you by his touch. Your head was rattling like crazy. He pushed you back gently until you were lying half down, supported by your elbows. Vladek climbed on top of you like a serpent. You were feeling dizzy, your eyes felt too heavy to blink. What snapped you out of it was his voice against your ears, your own flavor of aphrodisiac. He was chanting something, you didn't understand what he was saying whether it was because of the language or the drugs you couldn't possibly comprehend at that point. He started going down; ghosting his lips over your neck, nape, collarbones, chest, stomach, chanting some crude ancient hymn. You would kill at that point to have his lips on your skin but he carefully kept just enough of a distance that you could feel his sultry breath burning holes on your skin but not the touch of his delicate lips

You were wanting and waiting for even the slightest bit of contact when whatever “they” he talked about, answered your prayers. Vladek slipped his left hand under you and started laying you down further as he caressed your stomach with his right hand, kindly pushing until you were lying completely flat against his hand on your lower back. Your breath jerked when you felt his warm hands spreading your thighs. Even the drugs this time couldn’t stop the white hot rush that rose from embarrassment and submerged your whole existence. You were trying to take deep breaths and calm yourself down, reminding yourself that what was happening was purely spiritual yet the intrinsic responses of your body held other beliefs. As you were trying to hobble your heart, you felt his fervid lips on your cunt and electricity shot through your spine straight into your brain. For a moment you felt like your brain would melt into a liquid.

Vladek’s warm tongue glided up and down, making your body quiver at every small movement. You weren’t sure if your heart even existed at this point, either it stopped beating or was beating so fast it didn’t register in your brain. You felt your core tightening, almost on the brink of a collapse. Your breathing was becoming shallow and irregular, you were waiting for the bliss when he suddenly stopped. You’d whine and ask him why if your body didn’t feel like it was under a thousand miles of water. He slowly sat up and said “Get up”. Not a bone in your body felt like they were solid enough to support you. He probably sensed something and helped you get up. You were swaying mildly from the lightheadedness, rubbing your thighs together coyly to relief yourself from the edge and the aching that consumed you. He grabbed your arms firmly and gave you a quick shake to steady you, and it worked, as much as it was possible for a high, aroused woman on the edge of an orgasm, to sit still. Vladek reached for that knife again, and you wondered if he’d slash your throat this time as a sacrifice or something, not that you would be able to run right then even if you wanted to and you didn’t either. You’d happily die by the hands of a man like him. As your questionable morbid thoughts ran, he held the knife right in front of your face. “Cut your right index finger on this”, his honey like accent made that sound much more appealing than it actually was. You’d raise your brows if you could feel them. You were sure it wasn’t you who lifted that finger and slid it across the knife, your brain wasn’t controlling your body anymore. Blood started dipping down your hand, yet you didn’t feel any pain, again probably the drugs. He grabbed your hand with his right hand, you tried but couldn’t anticipate where it was going until he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. He put your finger on his tongue and drew some symbols again. His warm tongue was fluttering ever so slightly under your touch and you wanted to grab his face and slam him against the floor, crashing your mouth into his, but, not yet.

After drawing the symbols, Vladek licked your wound to stop the bleeding and when he let your finger go you very quickly started missing the warmth of his mouth. His lips were glimmering from your fluids in the flickering yellow lights and you decided to keep this memory in the depth of your, probably not beating anymore, heart. You were pretty sure you were thinking in slow motion because when you were done thinking that, you were lying on your back again somehow. And just as soon, his soft tongue was back on your cunt again, only this time it was circling your clit in languid motions. It was almost as if he picked up where he left cause your body was just as quickly on the ledge again. It was getting difficult to breathe with every passing moment. You tried really hard but you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, it took you a bit of an effort but you slid your fingers in his lush curls, holding onto them for dear life. His mouth worked skillfully on you, licking, sucking, driving you to the point of madness. You were almost there and as if afraid that he’ll stop again, you thrust your hips upwards which resulted in his nose pressing at just the right angle, resulting in your orgasm to push you down a cliff into a valley of pure bliss. You moaned out and shuddered vehemently as you rode through it. It was unlike any other orgasm you ever had. The room felt like it was crumbling down, the atmosphere falling apart. You couldn’t even feel his presence anymore. The candles burnt brightly and It was just you, violent euphoria within you and euphoric violence outside of you. Your back arched up, your head on the brink of snapping from your neck. You opened your eyes and it met with the hollow caters of the skull. A bright light flashed before you and you passed out.

When you came back, you were lying perfectly still. Your head was clear as a summer sky, your body felt like you had just come out of an ice cold bath. Which was weird considering the experience you just had was only comparable to a volcanic rapture. You felt vitalized, as if you’ve been sleeping for a few decades. You sat up quickly to find Vladek sitting crossed legged facing you, eyes closed and praying. You tried to cover yourself with your hands, feeling awfully naked. The candles were burnt almost to the ground, the air now mostly clear of smoke. He opened his eyes slowly and smiled at you softly. “How are you feeling?” he said in his gentle voice. “Good, feeling good, great um are we done?” you said abruptly. “Yes, yes we are” he replied and then got up. He quickly mumbled something and went out of the circle. He picked up the towel and handed it over to you which you promptly wrapped around yourself. You got out of the circle, standing awkwardly besides him. “Did it, um, work?” you said, trying to cut the uncomfortable silence.

-“Yes it did, thank you”

-“No problem”

-“I’ll clean all of this, don't worry, you can go to sleep if you want to. It’s a bit late”

-“I’m not tired”

-“I see”

-“I’m sorry by the way, for um, grabbing your hair back then impromptu”

-“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it”

-“Are you gonna leave afterwards?”

-“I do have things i need to tend to”

-“Oh. Okay”

You two nodded at each other like workplace colleagues who barely know each other. Which was unnerving for you, considering what just went down. The idea of him leaving made your heart ache, which was surprisingly still beating. If it was up to you, you’d chain him to your bed and never let him go but you were too young to be known as the town’s freak criminal. You wanted to say something, ask him to stay but could barely think about the concept of words. You awkwardly grabbed his wrist, surprisingly slow in your action. He looked down at his wrist then back at you again with amused but questioning eyes.

You were trying to gather all your thoughts, trying to say something, anything when Vladek spoke up, “Do you want me to stay?”. “Yes”, you answered a bit too avidly. Suddenly there was razor sharp tension in the air you both shared. You blinked and the next moment you were on your toes, cupping his face and forcing your tongue down his mouth. His hands lingered on the small of you back as he lowered himself to kiss you back. You were trying to devour him as you bit his lips, drawing a groan from him. Soon you were up against the wall as he was leaving marks all over your body. The ceremonial energy was nowhere to be seen in his being anymore and at that point he was indistinguishable from a wild animal. Your eyes met with his, both panting, bare chest to chest, there was instinctual longing in the way he looked at you. You reached down to feel his hard cock over his pants, stroking roughly making him grunt in response. “I want you, inside of me, like right now” you managed to blurt out and with that you were pinned on the couch. His tongue colliding with yours, your hands tugging at his silky curls. You were lost in the kiss when you felt him inside of you, stretching you out. You gasped in his mouth and he chuckled softly. But soon he was in rhythm, rough yet kind in his thrusts. Your nails were digging deep in his back. You could feel your orgasm building up again so you flipped him and got on top. Riding him to your heart’s content as he watched you in awe, your right hand wrapping his neck and the left one clutching his shoulder for support. You could feel his muffled groan under your palm. When you came you were looking directly into his eyes, moaning his name, your hands clenching a bit too intensely that you intended. As your high slowly calmed down you loosened your grip. Still thrusting sloppily trying to make it last as long as you could, when you felt him come inside of you. His chest rose as he kissed you through it. Soon after you were lying by his side. You wanted to rest your head on his chest, tell him that you liked him. But it was ridiculous to say that to someone you’ve known for such a little time. It was him who reached out and intertwined his fingers with yours, which took you by surprise. He was smiling softly at you. Vladek was shining like a god in the afterglow, he smelt divine and it pained you to fathom him not being with you for eternity. “Will you wake me up before you leave tomorrow morning?”, you almost choked while saying that.

“I wouldn’t dare to do otherwise.”

But you didn’t really want to wake up the next day. This was as close to heaven as you’d get and you wanted it to last forever. As you were falling asleep you decided to chain him to your bed if you woke up, pandemonium could swallow the town for all you cared.

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cher-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Ethereal | Vladek Klimov x Reader (18+)

Read part 2

Word count: 4.6k

CW: Smut, NSFW, Wound, Blood

A/N: I know it's hella long but it irks me to make two people have sex when it doesn't make sense for them to do so. Hopefully you'll enjoy.

It was an exceptionally cold day. Not that it was never not cold in your little northern town. But even among the cold ones, that day felt a bit too cold to you. You were feeling lazy from the very moment you woke up, but after leaving your warm comforter the cold bit into your skin like a snake, even though you had the heater on. 'I gotta get this heater checked’ you thought as you opened up the blinds to look outside. Surprisingly it was neither snowing nor much cloudy. You could almost make out the sun behind the wispy clouds. This cold but almost sunny day lit you up with an amazing idea. You called in sick to your work without wasting any time. Quickly gulping down some leftovers and grabbing your meticulously packed little bag for this exact occasion you were on your way. Hoping none would see you was a terrible stretch of luck cause in that town, everyone knew everyone and everyone saw everything. You were confident you could lie your way out of trouble if you got in any so you didn't quite care anyway. You had only thought in your mind, The hot spring.

The hot water welcomed your skin like an old lover. As you hoped, the water soothed every aching and sore muscle in your body. The spring was empty as usual. The town people weren't quite fond of taking a bath there, unlike you, who even after being born and brought up there couldn't quite get over the euphoric feeling of bathing in a hot spring in the freezing cold weather. Sometimes you wondered if god made a mistake cause you clearly were meant to be in a more warm climate. The cold and the mundane nature of this place got under your skin way too often. Although there were some weird and unexplainable events occurring recently that left the town in quite an unrest. You knew some stuff but honestly you couldn't differentiate the truth from the rumors so you preferred to keep your distance. Anyway you didn't wanna think about that, all you wanted to do was to float in the tranquil hot water, tune everything out with the ecstatic feeling and you could do that forever.

Unfortunately, your forever was interrupted rather quickly as you felt waves behind you. You turned around only to be greeted with a man's face you've never seen before. And working at the local convenience store, it was unlikely you haven't come across almost everyone living in that godforsaken place. He was adrift a bit too close, and you were taken aback, visibly.

“Sorry, I thought you were someone else, didn't mean to scare you” he blurted out sensing your shock and possible discomfort.

“I-It's fine. I just wasn't expecting anyone to be around” you replied. you could see his piercing green eyes even through the steam and they were gorgeous, to say the least. There was this intensity in them that you've never seen in anyone's eyes before.

You could feel yourself staring. So as to snap yourself out of it and to break the uncomfortable silence you quickly spoke up, “You aren't from around here!”. You meant to ask but it came out as a statement somehow, his intense eyes were messing with your tongue.

“Hah! No. I'm not.” he said ever so calmly. You could make out his face clearly from the steam now, and it was angelic. His slick neck and collarbone glistened in the warm water, now at more of a distance from you than before. Yet to you it felt like he was almost pressing against your skin. It made you uncomfortable, in a sensual way. But you played it cool, you had to play it cool. You weren't the type to flirt with unknown people let alone feel this way for a complete stranger that you met like 30 seconds ago. But it was a fact that you never came across a stranger that looked like him. You couldn't really blame yourself for feeling like that. You shook off your body's fervent reaction to him and said, “I see. We don't really get any tourists around here, especially during these months. Are you visiting someone?”

“Not really. I'm here to fulfill my duty.” he said, the words rolling out his tongue like butter. You've always adored that accent, rarely you heard it around there.

-“Duty?”

-“Yes.”

You understood he probably wasn't interested in explaining anything further and you quite weren't in the state to ask anything either. Your mind was getting hazy. There was a considerable amount of distance between the two of you but his presence felt electrifying. The tension, you felt, was excruciating yet exciting. He on the other hand, seemed extremely and unusually composed. Even smirking, ever so slightly

You were starting to realize there was something unnatural about this man, your head now completely fuzzy and that was your cue to leave. You dipped in the water and swam away without saying anything else. You didn't look back when you got out of the water. When you parked your car in front of your house 15 min later, you were panting.

It had been a few days since you saw him. Yet you couldn't get him out of your head. You saw his intense gaze at the back of your lid everytime you closed them. There were things happening around you but you were out of it. You felt faded everywhere you went. It was as if he took a part of you with him. It was so dumb when you thought about it, you were with him for like 2 minutes at best, yet he rubbed off on you so badly that you couldn't stop thinking of him. And sometimes you caught yourself wishing you met him again, maybe feel his skin this time. You wanted it to happen so much yet you were afraid of it happening, no, you were terrified. Cause if you felt his skin once, touched him even for a moment, you would lose control over all your motor function. Feeling this hot and bothered for someone you didn't even know the name of, left you quite ashamed.

That evening when you came home from your disturbingly tedious job, you weren't expecting for your wish to come true and that too to such an extent.

You walked straight to your kitchen to pour yourself some rosé cause it was Saturday and you had nothing better to do. You preferred the high of alcohol more than whatever you've been feeling for the last few days. It was way better to be actually drunk. You heard some rustling behind you as you were emptying the first glass. You didn't pay it any mind. As you were pouring yourself the second glass you heard footsteps, that sent you on alert mode. When you turned around, ever so slowly, you saw the guy in glasses. Standing, rather leaning against the door frame, with his left hand pressing against the side of his stomach. You were out of everything these past few days that's for sure but you still heard about him. Panic struck you quicker than the alcohol could. ‘How did he get in?’ you thought then immediately answered you own question by cursing yourself for not properly locking the door, the want to get drunk as quick as possible came back to bite you in the ass. But beating yourself up for that wouldn't help now, the danger was already in. With your back against the counter you started fumbling around with your hands in the back looking for something sharp, anything but the only thing you found was the bottle of rosé and the half poured glass. You cursed yourself again and understood that luck wasn't on your side so you decided to run for your life cause you didn't wanna die yet. But your body froze in place and nothing you could do would help it move. Fear took over your being like a frostbite. All of this happened only in the matter of a few seconds. You were now standing there, glaring at him with wide terrified eyes, preparing yourself for the bitter embrace of death. He was standing there still, crouched a bit, till then. Seeing you stop moving, he laggardly took off his glasses and the mask and threw it aside. Your eyes darted towards the accessories as they fell on the floor with a soft thump. It was only then that you noticed he was bleeding all over your floor. When your eyes came back up to see his now bare face, your body went numb and blood flooded the back of your neck like a tsunami at the sight. It was him.

Nothing was making sense to you. Right then probably the alcohol kicked in cause you started feeling tipsy and was starting to doubt if all of that was just a mere hallucination. You were starting to spiral in your absurd thoughts when he spoke up, his voice sharp from the visible pain he was in, “w-will you help-p me p-please?”

Hearing his aching voice something went off in you. The fact that he was the guy in glasses, the dangerous demon people kept talking about, completely washed away from your immediate memory. You rushed over to him and held him by his shoulder to walk him to your bedroom. You helped him out of his coat and the clothings underneath. He inhaled sharply when the t-shirt brushed against the side of his stomach as he was taking it off. It was then that you could see the wound. It was ghastly and bleeding still. You gasped at the sight of it. You blurted out, “How did you get this?”

He didn't answer your question, rather went on to say, “it's a...um.. grazed bullet wound”. His voice strained from the agony.

“W-we need to go to the hospital, what if the bullet is inside!”, you said as your fingers were ghosting over the wound, your teeth clenched. You were growing more and more worried with every passing moment.

“Look at me”, he said firmly with his tired voice and you did, he was looking more human now. Still as unreal as that day, but somehow more human. ‘It's probably all the blood’, you thought to yourself.

“I can't go to the hospital, you understand? You have to help me however you can right here, yeah?” he had this expression, this strange mix of pleading and pain on his face as he said that and nodded slowly. You nodded back in return like an old partner in crime would. After carefully sitting him down on the bed and giving him one of your T-shirts that was just lying around to press over the wound, you practically ran over to your bathroom to get your first aid box. You came back equally hurried. He was slouching in pain. One hand pressing the t-shirt over his wound, other one supporting his body weight on the bed.

You laid him down slowly and then sat beside him. He hissed as you took off the now bloody t-shirt and exposed the wound again. You started cleaning the wound with an antiseptic liquid and you could feel his body shudder under your touch from the pangs of the liquid.

“I think it needs stitches” you looked up and said. He looked fatigued but still more beautiful than any human you've ever seen.

“Can you do it?” he managed to say, with labored breathing.

“I-i learnt it in highschool. I have the supplies but I don't know. It may hurt. I still think we should go to the hos-”

“Do it.” he cut you off quite abruptly. And as if under a spell, you complied.

Halfway through the process, you looked up to see him staring at you. His eyes sent a chill down your spine. The intensity was now setting in, he was half naked, almost under you, you were touching his warm skin and he was staring at you, like that. You couldn't bear the tension so you decided to speak up. Besides the questions were bubbling under the surface for quite a while now.

“How did you find my place?” you asked, and genuinely wanted to know.

-“Freya told me. She was curious to know with whom I confused her with.”

- “How do you know Freya?”

- “I do.”

- “and she told you my name too?”

- “Yes, (Y/N). She indeed did”

Your hand hitched a bit hearing your name roll off his tongue like that. You weren't prepared. He hissed at the sudden sharp pain.

- “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.” you apologized quickly. He didn't say anything. For a while you went quiet but the questions started pouring in again.

- “So why didn't you go to Freya's? You're clearly her guest. Why come to me?”

- “There were police at her place.”

And at that sentence, everything came back to you like a flood.

“Who are you? What's with you and the glasses? And what is this demon people keep talking about? What the hell is this bullet wound and how did you get it? Why are you on the run from the police? Did you kill someone?”, in one singular breath you asked. Your hands stopped working at his wound. The fear was slowly creeping in again.

He looked at you blankly for a little while and then chuckled. It caught you off guard and you couldn't but relax a bit.

“You ask an awfully lot of questions to someone who is getting stitches on his stomach, don't you think?” he said in a strained but adoring voice.

You felt a bit humiliated and looked down to continue your work.

After a while, he let out a sigh and said, “I'm a Shaman. I came to save this town. From a demon who possesses people and slowly becomes them.”

Whatever he said didn't quite make sense to you but there was something so religious about the way he spoke, something so otherworldly about him that you believed him without a shadow of a doubt. You realized he didn't answer all your questions either and honestly you didn't need him to. You believed every word from of his mouth like it's the word of the lord. And at that point, if he said you were the demon, you would have believed him. Maybe that's what compelled you to ask the next question, “Am I the demon?”

- “No. Never. The demon wouldn't touch someone like you.”

Again it didn't make sense to you what he meant, but you felt it and you believed him. He was growing visibly weary so you decided not to ask him anything further. And when you were done stitching, he was fast asleep. You bandaged up the wound, turned off the lights and left him be.

You made your way to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of rosé. Your brain was banging against your skull, whatever happened from the evening truly felt like a fever dream. The man that you've been thinking about for the entire week and the man who this town thinks is a demon was fast asleep in your bedroom, it wasn't setting quite right in your brain. You drained the bottle, hoping you'd wake up from this. But instead you started feeling terribly exhausted. You wanted to just lie down on the floor and pass out right there but you deserved more than the hardwood floor after what happened that evening. Now if it was any other day, you would have slept on the couch but something about him was so magnetic that you couldn't keep yourself away from him. You stumbled your way to your bedroom and collapsed on the bean bag opposite to the bed. He was sleeping peacefully like a child. And looking at him, you too fell asleep with an empty bottle in your hand.

When you woke up, everything was blurry. Your headache hit your head before your vision did. As everything came into focus you saw him kneeling in front you, looking at you with his burning green eyes. The sun was coming in through the window above your head and it's glorious yellow glow bathed him. He looked like an ancient greek statue. However little humane he felt yesterday vanished just like that. With his soft lush curls draping over the face, he looked ethereal, kind but regal. You kept staring at him and couldn't quite speak. Whether it was the effect of his beauty or the hangover, you didn't know.

“You're awake” he said in a mellow soothing voice. He sounded much more lively than yesterday. He was still wearing only his pants. His body looked like it was carved out of a stone under the fuzzy sunlight.

You tried to say ‘hmm’ but made somewhat of a weird raspy sound. He didn't seem bothered by it.

“How's your wound?” you asked as you were trying to sit up properly.

“Better. Thanks to you.” he gave you a cordial smile. Something about that smile made you feel so safe even though a literal stranger was in your house at 6 in the morning.

-“um- do you want some coffee?”

-“No, you've already done enough, I think I should leave now”, he said as he looked at you with those mesmerizing green eyes. “Thank you (Y/N), I really appreciate your kindness”.

You didn't know what it was. Whether it was the way your name fell from his lips or the idea of him leaving and you not being able to see him again that sent a mix of anxiety and urgency down your body. You leaned in from the bean bag and crashed your lips onto his. Holding onto his shoulder for dear life, you pushed his body backwards with all your weight. You kept kissing him as if trying to devour him as quickly as possible. Running out of breath, when you pulled out, he had his back against the bed and you were half crawling half kneeling over his now stretched out legs. The position was almost as awkward as the situation. He looked at you with a startled expression, mouth slightly agape. You were just as appalled by your sudden inappropriate action.

“I-I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I should have asked. That was so inappropriate. I'm really so-” you blabbered on, flustered and ashamed of your actions.

“It's okay. I like you (Y/N)”, he cut you off and said with a soft loving voice, almost like you'd coo to a baby.

“B-but you don't even know me!”, the confusion in your voice was more than apparent. You looked at him wide eyed, hoping he would explain. Cause if he didn't, you wouldn't have the mental strength to ask him again after hearing what he just said.

“I don't need to know people like you all do” he spoke, the sunlight falling on him still making him look heavenly. “There's...There's a deeper knowing within me about people. From the place above and beyond. I knew you before, I know you now and I'd know you after this place too. I know you more than even you do perhaps. And I like you in all my knowing.”

His words felt like honey in your ears, his voice and accent made you feel light-headed. Or was it the hangover again? You couldn't tell. You didn't know. None of anything he said registered in your brain. Baffled, you just gawked at him, frozen in your uncomfortable posture.

Sensing your astonishment, he cupped your face with his hands and brushed your cheeks with his thumbs, with a smile that you were sure could cure you from all your illness. Under his touch you melted. It felt like electricity was running up and down your body. At this moment, you truly believed, he wasn't from this world.

Every bone in your body wanted to possess him.

And so you did. Kissing him with all the force you could muster. You crawled your way over his body, then straddling him. He kissed you back although more softly compared to your burning urgency. Your hands wandered into his soft hair, tugging and pulling. You were getting sloppy but you didn't take a moment off, you felt like if you did he might just slip off from under you like sand. Or you might wake up from this very vivid dream. You couldn't take any chances, you had to make the most of whatever it was, real or imagined. You were grinding against him slowly but aggressively. Your clothed chest rubbed against his bare skin. As his tongue mingled with yours, he tasted heavenly, like nothing you've tasted before. Your hands wandered all over his neck, shoulders and arms. You were trying to touch and feel everything that he was, he still didn't feel real to you. In your fervid bliss, you mistakenly pressed against his bandaged wound making him hiss out in pain against your mouth. Your ardent movements came to a halt as he slowly pulled away, saliva dripping from the side of his mouth, his lips glistened in the yellow sunlight.

“Go a bit easy on me, yeah?” he pleaded, his doe eyes piercing your soul. At that moment if he stabbed you in your heart, you'd die happy. But you wanted to please him, make up for whatever hurt you caused him. So you kissed him again, this time feebly. His mouth, the side of his mouth, jaw bone, neck, collarbone, you kept showering him with careful kisses, licks and bites all over his upper body. He was brushing his hands lovingly on your back. It felt like this was the moment you've been waiting for your whole life, you were quite sure you wouldn't exist afterwards. When you were done bathing every inch of his upper body with your lips you looked up to see his face. His affectionate gaze was sending warm ripples down your stomach. You felt his hardness against you and you knew what you wanted to do. You started kissing your way down towards his crotch, and after a bit of fumbling, you slid his pants off of him. There he was in all his glory. Without wasting a second, you took his cock in your mouth completely, as far as you could. His breath hitched at your sudden action. You glided your mouth up and down while your tongue went in circular motion around his length. If he was the god there then you were his one true devotee and you wanted to worship him, please him like your life depended on it. You heard him grunt softly and that made you soak through your panties. You could feel his body tense up, his breathing starting to get more and more rushed. You would finish him off like that if it weren't for his hands reaching down to cup your face and pull you up back on top of him. None of you were talking but it felt like you were communicating with him more than you've done with anybody before. He took your top off in a languid motion, followed by your bra. Your bare skin flush against his, like your body was on fire.

He eyed you up and down slowly, and uttered “you're beautiful”. You wished you could reply and say something but you were too out of your mind to do so. You only kissed him in return. After another fervent make out session, you pulled away, breathless. You were starting to get needy again as you felt your stomach slowly tightening up. He then pushed his back upwards in a clumsy way and sat up on the edge of the bed. You looked up to him and he looked celestial. At this point you weren't thinking anymore, everything you were doing was purely instinctual. He reached his right hand out to you and you took it. With one fluent motion he pulled you up and pinned you on the bed. He was now on top of you, staring down. You could see a glimpse of hunger in his eyes but his kind smile felt otherwise. It was him now who bathed your body with kisses. He lovingly took one of your nipples in his mouth and stroked the other one with his hand. With his warm tongue working on your nipple and his soft curls tickling your breast, you were quite sure you were in heaven. But you were getting impatient and you wanted to feel him inside of you. Unknowingly to you, your hips went up to grind against him as you whined sensually. He looked up at you and chuckled softly. You felt your cheeks warm up from embarrassment. But he complied with your will and helped you out of your pants and underwear. Now there was nothing between the two of you. He came up to face you as he positioned himself at your entrance. Your body felt like it would turn to dust at any moment. Your vision was hazy but you could swear his angelic beauty lit up the whole room. You felt like you were drowning in his eyes. But your reverie broke as he entered your body, filling you in. You wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms around him. Your back arched up like a cat as he quickly found a rhythm and started hitting the right spot. Waves of pure bliss started to take over your whole body as your core started building up. You were a moaning mess under him, and his grunts felt like music to your ears. He was navigating the boat and you were just riding. He picked up the pace and became more and more aggressive. You could feel him smothering your cheeks, neck and breast with kisses. But honestly you couldn't tell anymore, you could only feel the waves rising and the tension building. Building and building and with a final hit, it all came undone. You came crashing down a mountain top but it felt euphoric. Your eyes rolled back somewhere into my skull. You could feel his tongue in your mouth, as his thrusts became more and more sloppy until it finally halted. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his warm fluid fill your insides.

When you opened your eyes, you were a panting and sweating mess. He pulled out of you slowly and rolled over to your side. He was equally as messy as you were. You turned on your side to face him. He was smiling at you coyly and in that moment it felt like you've known him for eternity. He was practically gleaming in the afterglow. As you were slowly coming down from the high a very embarrassing realization hit you. You didn't know his name. You just fucked someone you didn't even know the name of. You were becoming red with shame and he noticed.

“What's wrong?”, his voice filled with genuine concern. You were seriously considering if you should ask him that at this point. But you did,

-“I- um... what's your name?”

-“Vladek” he said softly and in that moment he looked so beautiful that you were afraid you'd go blind. Yet in his beauty there was this delicacy, this vulnerability. For some reason you felt like he didn't have much time left on his hands. As if he had to go back from where he came. He looked too vulnerable for this world and you had a very bad feeling.

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