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moonchild9350 · 8 months ago

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Still Life and Nude Surprises

Summary: you need to prep for an art show and sign up for a class for extra practice. the model you’re assigned however turns out to be someone you know very well.

Pairing: best friend!Felix x fab!reader

Genre: friends to lovers au, fluff, smut-18+MDNI

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: nude modeling, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, mention of overstimulation, clit play, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, implied multiple rounds

Notes: another fic from when I was feral sorry not sorry lol this was fun to write though and it’s Felix so…. lol

If you enjoyed please consider a like, reblog, or comment as it keeps me motivated ♡

Divider by @cafekitsune

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

"Hold still!"

You chastised the blonde who was at the moment wiggling around in his seat, his eyes focused on his computer screen as he blasted god knows what on the latest game he acquired.

"Y/n! Lemme just finish this round, then I'll do anything you say," he responded as he showed off his biggest pouty face.

You sighed, not being able to say no to that face. Felix smiled and went back to his game, his fingers tap tapping on the keyboard.

Felix is your best friend, he has been since you were neighbors as a kid. You've done everything together, from attending dances as each others dates, sleepovers as kids, endure heartbreaks, and even live within the same building as adults.

You couldn't live without him, your relationship going beyond your wildest dreams.

Now, you were trying to sketch your best friend as you were trying to improve your still life skills, preparing for an art show that you had signed up for. Everything was going well until he received a text from a gamer buddy, wanting to go for a round on a new game he recently started.

You set your sketch pad down and watched your friend as he scrunched his face in concentration, his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he shot down enemy after enemy. It was pretty humorous to watch, as everytime he missed his target he'd scream "noooo!" before concentrating once more.

You knew it was a lost cause, understanding once he started gaming, it would be hours until he would stop. You gathered up your stuff, packing it into your bag.

You got up and walked over to Felix, ruffling up his hair, obscuring his view of the computer screen.

"Y/n!" he exclaimed as he blew his hair out of his face, the strands framing his face haphazardly as a result.

"I'm gonna go home, it's getting late. I"ll see you later ok?"

Felix took a chance and looked away from the screen to you, "I'm sorry, I'm a horrible model."

You chuckled and slapped his arm, the boy yelping at the sting. "No you're not, you just get distracted easily."

You continued to laugh as you walked to his door, listening to Felix mutter under his breath something along the lines of "that's not true."

Closing his door, you walked the few doors down to your apartment, dropping your bag on the hallway table. You really did want to practice your skills as the show was getting closer day by day and you were banking on using Felix to start.

You grabbed your laptop and plopped on the couch, propping your feet on the table in front of you. Opening up the search engine, you began to look for classes that you could attend to help you practice.

You came across a particularly promising site, the company offering a variety of classes from group sessions to private ones. You clicked on the private session info bar, as the prospect of it just being you and the model seemed appealing.

You noticed they offered private nude modeling sessions as well, your eyebrow raising in interest. This would be the perfect opportunity to study the human body and to improve your skills on drawing it.

The company had a few sessions open over the next few days which would be perfect as you were free. You clicked on the time slot for tomorrow's private session, your mind running over the pros and cons.

You've never sketched anyone nude, the prospect seeming a little embarrassing to you, but how would you get better if you didn't step out of your comfort zone? Plus, these models were trained for this, and it was with a reputable company.

The cost of the class wasn't much either, definitely within your budget. You filled in your information, whatever they asked for. Once done, your hand hovered over the book button, as you considered what to do.

"Fuck it," you said, bringing your finger down to press book.

A confirmation page popped up saying your session was successfully booked and they'd see you tomorrow. You let out a breath and closed your laptop.

This was really going to happen. You wondered if you'd have a male or female model, noticing there was no option to choose. Shaking your head, you decided not to think about the session until the time came, opting to go in with a fresh and unbiased mind.

You went about the rest of your night, prepping everything you would need for tomorrow. Settling into bed you pulled the covers up to your chin.

You were ready for tomorrow and whatever it were to bring.

It was a beautiful day, the sun shining, the weather warm but not too hot. The walk to the art studio wasn't too far away, the building being within walking distance.

You were giddy with excitement, your anxieties gone about the details of the session. You texted Felix to let him know you would be occupied today and would be over later on. He didn't mind as he apparently had something to do as well.

You approached a chic building, the outer walls appearing old yet charming to fit the town. You opened the door and walked in, met with the scent only an art studio can provide, from the scents of paints to fresh canvases. The scent of coffee drifted in the air as well, as there was a fresh pot that seemed to have been brewed in the corner of the reception area.

You approached the front desk, greeting the worker behind it.

"Hi, my name is y/n, I'm booked for a private session at 10:30?"

The lady looked in a book on the desk, her manicured fingers running down the page to the appointed time. She tapped her fingers on the page, finding your name as expected.

"We have you all set, would you like to pay now?"

You nodded and pulled out your card. She took care of the payment and then smiled.

"Have a seat, someone will be with you shortly to take you to the studio."

"Thank you," you said, walking towards a comfy looking chair in the corner.

You sat down, cradling your bag to your side. The atmosphere was quiet, the occasional sound of chatter meeting your ears. You watched as people walked to and from, their focus on getting to their destination.

Not long after sitting down, a young woman appeared calling your name. You hurriedly grabbed your bag and walked towards her.

"Ready?" she asked with a smile.

"Absolutely," you responded as you followed the lady down the hall.

She stopped at a door, the placard reading studio eight. It was more secluded than the other studios, the room being near the back of the hall. The lady opened the door and stepped in, you following right behind her.

As you crossed the threshold, you took in the surroundings of the room. It wasn't too small but not too big. The walls were covered with sketches and paintings, portraying various body types. Each painting was beautiful, the artist capturing the details of the human body in intricate detail.

There was a ceiling to floor mirror along one wall, the whole room visible in its reflection. In the center of the room, there was a chair next to a series of boxes, linen draped over it to make a makeshift bed. You eyed the stool next to an easel, which you assumed is where you would be sitting.

"So, this is where your session will take place. You have this space for four hours. If you need assistance of any sort, just press this button here and one of the staff members will assist you."

You followed her hand as she pointed to a blue button next to the door. You nodded and faced the lady again, waiting for her to continue.

"You have opted for a nude model for your session correct?"

"Yes, I have," you replied, feeling your cheeks flush at her question.

"They will enter after I leave. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, you can ask them to robe again, they will not mind. I think that's all. Any questions?"

You shook your head no, as everything was pretty straight forward.

"Great! Go ahead and get settled, your model will be in shortly!"

You thanked the lady and walked over to the easel. Setting your bag down, you began to pull out your sketch book and various pencils, setting them up accordingly. You sat on the stool, crossing your legs as you waited for your model to arrive.

It didn't take long until a different door than you came in opened, a person stepping in within the room. It was a flurry of movement as they walked into the room with their head down.

"Sorry, I'm a little late," the person said in a deep voice.

Wait...you knew that voice. Shocked, your head snapped up to look more closely at the person. You couldn't believe it, that person was...

"Y/n?!"

"Felix?!"

Your model was Felix? Your best friend? What the fuck?!

You were confused and shocked. Felix seemed to be as well as he stared at you with his mouth wide open.

You eyed your friend who was prepped in a white robe, the material seeming soft and cozy on his skin. His long hair was in a ponytail, framed away from his face, his numerous freckles on display.

"What are you doing here?" you asked in disbelief.

"I could ask you the same thing," Felix responded as he came closer to you.

"I uh...I signed up for a class to work on my skills since you know..." you said, your voice trailing off at the end.

The atmosphere was tense, neither one of you knowing what to do. You never expected to see your best friend here, especially since he never mentioned he modeled for an art studio...nude at that.

Felix nodded at your response, "I work here as a side gig...make some extra cash you know?"

You nodded, accepting his answer.

"Why did you never tell me you did this?" you inquired, curiosity getting the best of you.

Felix fiddled with the strap of his robe, his gaze anywhere but yours. After a moment he cleared his throat.

"Well, I thought you'd find it weird. I mean I'm naked in front of people and they draw me in the nude. How would I bring that up with you?"

He had a point. That would definitely make for an interesting conversation. Now the question becomes do you go on with the session? Sketch your best friend nude? You could make him keep the robe on.

"Do you...do you still want to proceed with this?" Felix asked, his hands gesturing toward the makeshift bed in the center of the room.

"I'm ok if you are," you said shrugging.

Felix cleared his throat, surprised at your answer. Recovering quickly, he said, "Of course."

You nodded and watched as he padded toward the bed, stopping in front of it for a moment. His hands went to the strap of his robe, his fingers fiddling with the knot before he stopped.

"You ok with sketching me nude?"

"Yes Lix, I've seen you naked before."

You really have and with years of being best friends, it was bound to happen.

Felix nodded before he grasped the strap again, this time untying the knot.

You watched as the knot fell away, the straps now dangling at his side. He brought his hands up, to grab the soft material and slide it off his shoulders. With a flurry of movement, he let the robe fall, the fabric pooling at his feet.

You gasped, your eyes glued to your best friend as he stood in the center of the room, his back to you. Taking the chance, your eyes roamed his back, taking in his muscular frame, down to his lithe waist, which you've always admired. You smirked at seeing his ass wanting to reach out and smack it.

Felix took a deep breath and slowly turned around to face you. You watched with bated breath as he now stood facing you, his eyes on yours.

Your eyes drifted down his torso, eyeing his nipples, the pinkish-brown buds perky in the cold room. You eyed him further down, down, down until you came to his pelvis, a happy trail of hair leading down to his cock.

You subconsciously licked your lips, your eyes glued to his soft cock lying amongst a smattering of hair, his balls hanging nice and delicate. You couldn't help but admire his cock, wondering how it would feel in your hands, how it would feel...

"Earth to y/n! My eyes are up here pervert!" Felix exclaimed while snapping his fingers to get your attention.

You snapped your eyes up to his face, feeling your cheeks flush in embarrassment. You definitely were just checking out your best friend, the feeling in your panties a little more wet than when you came in.

You cleared your throat and gestured toward the bed, "Umm, wanna get started?"

Felix nodded, "How do you want me?"

"You can just lounge on the bed for now."

Felix nodded again and sat on the bed, swinging his legs up to rest on the linens. You walked over to your best friend and stopped in front of him, your hands reached out. You hesitated for a moment, looking into his eyes asking silent permission to touch him.

"Go ahead, position me how you want," Felix chuckled.

You took his hand in yours and draped it across his face, his fingers dangling delicately on the side of his cheeks. You angled his head to look toward where you would be sitting. You looked at his legs, taking a breath before propping one of his legs up.

Once finished, you quickly took a step back, eyeing your work. Satisfied, you sat down on your stool and grabbed your sketch book.

You picked up a pencil and began to sketch, easily getting lost in your work. You looked up at Felix every now and then, to get some details solidified in your head before you translated it onto paper.

It was silent in the room, neither one of you speaking. It was not as awkward as you thought it would be, but rather comforting.

Time passed and you got more of your sketch done, the outline being nearly complete.

Felix was staring at you, watching your hands dance across the page, sketching his frame. He couldn't take his eyes off of you, admiring how you got lost in your work, that not even your best friend posing naked for you can distract you.

He loved how you let out a small smile when you got a detail just right or how you scrunched up your face and bit your lip when something did not seem right.

You were beautiful, that he couldn't deny and you were even more beautiful in this moment, sitting on a stool in an art studio underneath the dim lights.

Felix started to feel warm, despite laying right under the air conditioner, the feeling spreading down his belly and settling at his cock. He could feel the blood slowly fill out his cock, the appendage slightly harder than before, laying haphazardly against his pelvis.

He willed himself to breath, to cool down, not wanting you to see the effect you have on him. He could never live that down. He tried to look everywhere but your face, especially when your head was down. But to no avail, the feeling increased, his cock twitching slightly in response.

You looked up at your friend to get another look at his torso for shading the area on your sketch, but froze at what you saw. Felix seemed to be in turmoil, his breath shaky, his eyes darting everywhere around the room.

Your eyes traveled to his cock, noticing how it seemed to have hardened some since you last took a look at him. You thought you would feel embarrassed, however, you felt quite the opposite.

You lingered on his cock a little longer, a a pleasurable shock traveling down your body and straight to your core. You pressed your thighs together in response, feeling your slick slowly seep into your panties.

You cleared your throat and went back to your sketch, not wanting Felix to catch you staring, not let him know that you were aware he was hard while you sketched him.

Felix was turned on, that was the brunt of it. He tried to stop his reaction to you, but he just couldn't do it. He felt his cock hardened until it stood fully at attention, the tip pressing up against his pelvis.

It was torture laying there, only a few feet away from you, his cock so hard it was starting to hurt. He wanted to touch himself, relieve the ache, and maybe just maybe you could help him out too.

He watched as you lifted your head up once more, gasping at the state of him.

You were in shock, noticing now that Felix's cock was fully hard, the member seeming angry and red at the lack of attention it received. You could see something shiny glistening on the hairs littering his pelvis. You watched as a drop of pre-cum oozed from his tip, the liquid dripping down his shaft until it reached the hairs, getting caught in the thickness.

Looking at Felix's face, you could tell he was miserable, as he breathing was shallow and he was clenching and unclenching his hands. You knew he wanted to touch himself to relieve himself of the ache he was feeling.

"Felix?" you questioned, your eyes reaching his. "Do you wanna touch yourself?"

Felix's eyes widened at the question, disbelief written on his face.

"I'm..I'm sorry y/n, I just couldn't help it," he stuttered, lowering his eyes in embarrassment.

"It's ok," you responded with a smile. "You can touch yourself, make yourself feel good. I'll continue to sketch."

Felix stared at you for a moment more before he took his other hand that was at his side and placed it on his chest.

You watched as he gripped his aching cock and gave it a squeeze as he moaned lowly. He shifted his hand upwards, his thumb pressing on his slit before gathering up some of the leaking pre-cum.

He began to stroke his cock, steady but slowly, his fist reaching the base just to travel back up and circle around the head. Felix kept eye contact with you, your sketching forgotten, as you took to watching your best friend pleasure himself.

He increased the speed of his wrist movement, wet sounds from the aid of his precum filling the room. With each moan he let out, you felt your pussy clench over nothing. You were soaking wet, your panties stuck to your skin by now, your clit throbbing to be touched.

"Y/n," Felix said, his voice raspy as he continued to stroke his cock. "Can you touch yourself? Pleasure yourself for me?"

You looked into Felix's pleading eyes, watching as he licked his lips and swallowed. You didn't give a moments thought at your friend's request, instead ridding yourself of your leggings.

You stood before Felix, your fingers going to the band of your panties. You watched Felix's eyes drag to the piece of cloth, his eyes widening at the wet patch present on your panties, the material sticking to your skin, leaving nothing to the imagination as the outline of your lips could be seen.

You slowly slid your panties down your legs and set them aside. Felix let out a groan at the sight of your pussy, his cock twitching in his hand.

You sat back down on the stool and spread your legs, your wet folds separating to show him your entrance. He kept his eyes glued to your pussy as you brought a finger to your clit, flicking the bud and the rubbing it gently.

You sighed out as you dipped a finger lower into your hole, gathering your slick that was pooling there before bringing it back to your clit. You circled it gently, applying the slightest pressure, a jolt of pleasure causing your pussy to clench.

Time passed as you both sat there, eyes on each other as you pleasured yourself, the room filled with wet sounds and the mix of both of your moans.

You matched Felix's pace as he stroked his cock, harder and faster, his hips bucking up into his hands. You let out a whimper as you felt the tightening within your belly, the coil tightening, filling your core with warmth.

"Felix, m'close," you moaned as your fingers slipped and slid around your clit, your pussy getting wetter by the minute.

"Yeah? Cum for me? Will you cum for me like a good girl?" Felix cooed. "I'm close too, fuck."

Your breathing increased as the coil expanded in your belly, the feeling getting larger and larger until you tipped over the edge, your walls spasming, clenching down rhythmically as you rode out your high.

You didn't stop rubbing your clit, watching as Felix let out a groan as he bucked his hips, spurts of cum landing on his belly creating a painting with its pearly white sheen.

You pulled your hand away, the feeling of overstimulation settling in. You looked at your best friend, both of you breathing hard as you came down from your highs.

You chuckled as you noticed Felix was pretty much in the same position you put him in, his resolve at staying true to his role admirable.

"You um...you can keep sketching if you'd like," Felix said, his voice soft with uncertainty.

"We literally just got off together and you want me to continue sketching?" you asked incredulously as you cocked your eyebrow.

Felix cleared his throat, his body slighly shifting on the makeshift bed causing his softened cock to jiggle.

"Well...yeah, you paid and all..."

You stared at your best friend in disbelief. You hated that he had a point, you did pay a pretty sum to be here today. But here you were, nude from the waist down, your nether region a mess. You sighed and picked up your pencil, moving your hand to start sketching again.

There was silence once more as you got into the zone, focusing on shading in your sketch. You began to hum to yourself, adjusting yourself sligthly on the stool.

Felix returned to staring at you, watching you get lost in your work. He tried not to remember that you were naked waist down, your pussy seconds away from being on display if you decided to open your legs.

The thought caused arousal to seep through his body once more. He cursed silently as he felt his cock twitch. Why does he have to be turned on by you? He's never had this reaction before for any other client.

Maybe it was because they were strangers, people he didn't know, while you were his best friend, his life line.

He couldn't help it as his thoughts wandered, wondering how you would feel wrapped around him. He wondered how you would sound as he pounded into you, making you feel better than any of your little flings ever could.

He peeked down to look at his lower half as he silently groaned noticing his cock was fully hardened, resting against his belly once more.

You looked up to gather reference and noticed Felix's cock was hard, more of his precum leaking out and onto his belly. You squeezed your thighs together at the sight as your tongue darted out and licked your lips.

"Fuck this," you said, tossing your sketch book to the side.

You stood up and walked towards Felix, lifting your shirt up and over your head in the process. You unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor, your tits spilling out and on view for your friend.

Felix scrambled up quickly and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you toward him until you stood right in front of his face. He grasped your waist and smashed his lips to yours, letting out a moan as your lips moved with his.

Your hand reached down to grasp his cock, giving it a squeeze. Felix moaned against your lips, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

"Can I fuck you y/n?" Felix asked with hope in his eyes.

You've both come this far, why stop now you thought.

"Sure," you agreed as more arousal gushed out of your pussy and onto your thighs at the thought of his cock filling you up.

Felix helped maneuver you onto the makeshift bed as he hovered above you. He spread your legs and pushed them upwards, giving him a clear view of your wet pussy, your slick coating your folds and dripping down your ass.

He brought his thumb down to press against your swollen clit that was peeking through your folds. You let out a whine at the sensation, your pussy clenching around nothing.

"I've waited for this moment for a long time y/n," Felix said, his eyes lifting up to your face.

"Me too," you confessed, your heart swelling at the thought that you both have liked each other probably for years.

He really was your person, your everything, and you would love nothing more than to give yourself fully to him.

Felix smiled down at you before swiping his finger over your clit again, watching as you wiggled your hips at his touch.

"I'm gonna give you my cock now," he grunted, grasping the appendage at the base.

He rubbed his cock through your folds, collecting your slick before pressing against your entrance, his eyes glued to how his head disappeared within your hole.

You mewled as he withdrew his cock just to press into your entrance again as he fucked you with just the tip.

"Felix, please," you whimpered, holding your legs open even more.

"Want my cock hm?" Felix asked, his eyes on yours. He watched as your mouth hung open, soft moans falling out as he teased you, spreading your folds open with just his head.

He was faring no better as he felt a shutter run through him, every time he sunk his tip within your warmth.

"Fuck me," you commanded, your eyes snapping open and staring Felix down.

You reached for his cock, your hand wrapping around the shaft. You wiggled your hips attempting to take more of his cock, ignoring how Felix was laughing at you.

"Ok, ok, don't get your panties in a twist," Felix chuckled. "Oh wait, you lost those hours ago, so desperate for my cock y/n."

Without any other warning, he slammed his hips into yours with a groan, sinking his length within your walls until bottomed out.

"Fuck, so warm and tight," he grunted as he began to thrust his hips into yours, withdrawing his cock just until he was all the way out and pushing back in.

You pussy clenched around him, the feeling of his cock stretching you out causing waves of pleasure to settle in your pelvis.

Felix grasped your legs, pushing them further to your chest as he pummeled his hips to yours, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. He couldn't believe how tight you were, how your walls molded around his cock perfectly, like you were made for him.

His moans mingled with yours, as you both chased your highs. Felix licked his fingers and brought them back down to your clit, the digits slipping and sliding along the nub, causing shocks of pleasure to wreck your frame.

"Shit, I'm close, gonna cum. Can I come inside?" Felix panted, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

"Please, need your cum!" you whimpered as your pussy contracted at the thought of his cum within you.

Felix slammed his hips into yours once more before stilling, ropes of his cum flooding your walls.

"That's it, take my cum," Felix cooed as he continued to finger your clit.

You let out a loud moan as you came, your arousal seeping out of your pussy, coating Felix's cock as he thrusted his hips into yours a few more times to help you ride out your high.

Felix peered down at you, his eyes searching yours as you panted, your hands running down your body. He slowly withdrew his softening cock, his eyes glued to how his cum leaked out of your pussy, a smile gracing his face.

He leaned down to press a kiss on your lips once more as he whispered "I love you."

You carded your fingers through his hair, eagerly returning the kiss.

"And I love you Felix," you cooed.

You both laid there a little longer, exchanging soft kisses, neither one of you in a rush to move.

After a while, Felix perked up, mischief in his eyes.

"Wanna keep sketching? You still have another hour."

You smirked at the suggestion, knowing exactly where it will lead, and that was definitely ok with you.

"Sure thing, let's go for another round," you teased with a grin.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght

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band--psycho · 1 month ago

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Ambessa x Fem!Reader - Jealousy And Teasing

Been a while - I'm working on current requests but will happily take more if people have any ideas they want me to write!

In the meantime, I'll be posting some other stories, like this one that have been in my drafts!

I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Thank you all for the continued support!💛

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

Ambessa Masterlist / Arcane Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Warnings: 18+, teasing

You loved Ambessa, but she was insufferable when she was like this.

Showing off.

Trying to prove a point, aggravating her daughter….and you in the process.

The man she’d hired to show her Piltover, was now here, during what should have been your private time with one another.

And to make matters even worse, he was massaging her shoulders with a sickly smirk on his face.

You hated it.

Hated watching his hands on her.

Hated being sat to the side of her, completely naked.

And more to the point, you hated being ignored, especially by Ambessa.

She’d insisted you were here, but now you wished you’d just said no and stayed at home.

Of course you would miss her.

But it was better missing her when she wasn’t there, compared to missing her when she was with you.

You just wanted to ask her toy to leave, but you knew that unless Ambessa said it, he would pay no attention to you.

A flannel was covering her eyes; and in your mind you believed that you could just grab your towel that had been discarded on the floor next to the bath, and leave.

Ambessa would hear the sound of the water moving, but that didn’t mean that you were leaving.

You just had to be quick enough to make it to the door without her noticing.

So with that thought in mind, you carefully rose from the warm water that had been engulfing you, you checked to see if you’d been heard but Ambessa didn’t seem to bothered, she still sat, leaning against the wall of the bath, her eyes still covered.

You grabbed your towel and wrapped it around your wet body, before stepping onto one of the steps outside the bath.

The towel wasn’t super long, but it was long enough to cover all of your intimate areas.

You thought you’d gotten away with it.

That was until you heard Ambessa voice,“I don’t remember saying you could leave.”

The audacity of this woman.

“That’s because I didn’t ask,” you retorted, before your mind could process your response.

You didn’t sass Ambessa often, if ever, you certainly hadn’t in a long time but you were so irritated today, you couldn’t stop the words from spilling out.

“Leave us,” she ordered her guards, and the man that stood behind her.

You could see the confusion in his eyes, but he didn’t dare to disobey her orders, few did, so he followed the guards out of the room.

Leaving you alone with Ambessa.

“You seem frustrated, my love,” she began, stepping out of the water and moving towards you, only stopping when she was directly infront of you.

“You’ve only just noticed?” You quipped back, knowing that all of these sarcastic responses probably weren’t the smartest move, but you couldn’t help it.

You’d been calm and collected all day, despite your frustration.

Now there was no need to pretend, no façade to put on, you could be as pissed with Ambessa as you wanted to be.

And you cared little for the consequences of your words.

Though you did have to admit; it was hard to be mad at her when she was standing in front of you with nothing on…your mind couldn’t help but wander, to what you’d been so desperately needing all day.

To the world, the lady standing in front of you was a highly decorated general, a formidable and brave warrior; to you though, she was Ambessa, the woman you loved.

“I noticed a while ago, I thought a bath would help you relax,” she stated softly, her large hands delicately touching your forearms; her thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your damp skin.

“Not with your new toy present,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the surge of pleasure that rushed to your core from her touch.

Why? Why did she have to make it so hard to be mad at her?

Why was just the smallest of touches enough to arouse you so much?

It was maddening.

She was maddening.

“Oh so that’s what this about,” she drawled as the realization dawned upon her, making a small smirk grow on her lips, “You’re jealous.”

Jealous?

Seriously?

Why would you be jealous? Who would you be jealous of?

You weren’t jealous.

“I’m not jealous, I just don’t like being ignored,” you defended, your words coming out harshly, not that Ambessa seemed to mind all that much, and if she did, she didn’t let on that she was annoyed.

“And is that what you feel I’ve been doing? Ignoring you?”

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation, meeting her eyes, noticing the glint of mischief in them instantly.

“Well,” she started, moving one of her hands just above your breasts to where you’d tucked the towel around your body. Her eyes lingered on your for a moment before untucking it and allowing it to fall into the floor, “Perhaps I should remedy that for you,”

The rush of cool air hit your bare skin, you wanted to complain but you couldn’t. Not with Ambessas lips kissing you so fiercely, and her hands touching all over your body, except for where you most desperately craved her.

Too quickly the thoughts escaped from your mind and all you could focus on or think about, was her.

“‘Bessa-” you squirmed, feeling her chuckle against your lips.

“There she is,” she muttered triumphantly against your lips, one hand traveling up the back of your neck, holding you in place, while the other stroked teasingly down your side, “All this attitude, just because you’re just jealous and needy,”

“I’m not needy,” you argued back between breathy moans as her lips trailed from your lips to the nape of your neck.

“Ah so you admit you’re jealous,” she questioned, nibbling on your neck as one of her hands reached down to your soaking pussy.

You wanted her to touch you.

Needed her to touch you.

“Just admit it and I’ll give you what you want,” she whispered alluringly in your ear.

You weren’t jealous.

You knew you weren’t.

But if that’s what you needed to say to get Ambessa to touch you…

“Fine, I admit it,” you muttered.

Ambessa chuckled again; pulling away from you slightly; the sudden loss of her warmth on your body drawing a small whimper from your lips.

“No no, my love, I need to hear you say it.”

“Bessa-” you whined, not wanting to say those words.

Not wanting to admit defeat.

“Say those words; or I won’t touch you for the rest of the night.”

You knew Ambessa well enough to know that those words were no idle threat; they were a promise. And despite the fact that you didn’t want to say it; you were so desperate for her touch that the thought of not having it for the rest of the night made your pride falter.

“I was jealous,” you admitted; waiting for her touch, but her body didn’t move.

“Again,” she ordered and so you repeated the words you’d begrudgingly said mere moments ago.

A triumphant smirk graced Ambessas lips as she moved closer to you; her lips inches away from yours once again.

“Say it again,”

“I was jea-lous-”

You felt Ambessa’s finger tap on your clit as the words left your mouth; making the words you were saying morph into a moan.

“Good girl,” she praised in your ear, moving her finger from your sensitive clit to your dripping hole.

Her praise and the sudden rush of pleasure that she was bringing you, made you want to cum right then and there and you were so close to; that was until Ambessa pulled her finger away from you.

“You didn’t think you were going to get to cum that easily did you, my love,” she questioned, her teasing tone making you instantly regret the attitude you’d previously given her.

This was how she was going to make you pay for it.

By teasing the fuck out of you.

And as much as you hated it….you also loved it.

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @barbersjoy @conretewings @wockillz @eternallyvenus @eternalgoddessofart @marimaris-stuff @iamagodyoudullcreature1 @paranormal-is-my-life @trixiex2 @just-levyy @itsmekalou @the-lone-librarian @fortune-fool02 @dazecrea @ecao @euriiverse

#ambessa x reader #ambessa medarda #ambessa medarda x reader #ambessa x you #ambessa x fem!reader #arcane ambessa #ambessa league of legends #ambessa medarda arcane #arcane x reader #ambessa smut #ambessa medarda smut #arcane imagines #ambessa imagines #ambessa imagine #ambessa medarda x you #ambessa medarda imagines #ambessa medarda imagine

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hwalovs · 4 months ago

Text

Absolution, My Fine Friend (M)

Pairing; Priest! Jayce x Fem!Reader Word Count; 4.9k Warnings; Porn Without Plot (kind of), mutual masturbation, finger sucking, drooling (Jayce), he gets talked through it, misuse of the confessional, trying not to get caught, paper eating, misuse of a bible, blasphemy, religious kink, corruption kink.

Summary; Father Talis has done his best to forget the sin that permeates his office, taking refuge in the confessional. Maybe, by listening to other ask to be forgiven, Father Talis himself can earn his absolution.

First Sin; Temptation Second Sin; Absolution (currently here)

A/N; this can be read on its own, i think, but part one was a hit in my books and i couldn't stop thinking about Father Jayce and reader. Theres also a little someone on ao3 who sent the most amazing comment and I got a fire ignited under my ass so now we're here. Again, this is dedicated to my babies on discord, all of them. This wouldn't be here without them. Anywho, enjoy!

THIS IS NOT EDITED!

DO NOT COPY, REPOST ON OTHER SITES, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK WITHOUT PERMISSION!

Absolution; Formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment.

It’s customary for the Priest to wait in the confessional, sitting in the small box for the small door on the other side to open, a person to come sit down, and confess to him their sins. From there, he would listen, give advice, and pray with them before sending them on their way. It was something he had done multiple times before, finding comfort in the enclosed space. His own body heat would keep him warm, heating the small space rather quickly. Taking off his rosary, he could drag the small chain through his fingers, playing with the beads. He would think of prayers, roll a bead between the pads of his fingers, grip the small cross and lightly kiss it. He would do this for hours, sometimes someone would arrive, sometimes there would be no one.

The sun was shining brightly through the small lattice on the door in front of him, directly in his eyesight, blinding him. Gold light filtered through stained glass, casting an array of colorful rays across the pews and patrons. Eyes clenched shut, he sits taller while leaning his head back against the wood, sighing. There was an imaginary clock in his mind, constantly ticking away, bringing a faux comfort. He could hear the slight commotion of people still in the church, talking to loved ones and neighbors who were all smiles and high off of the worship he held. He needed something more to keep him distracted, the LED clock in the confessional was silent, unlike the clock in his bedroom. Its ticking filled his mind now, his foot tapping the ground along with it.

Arms moving, he moves the slowly sliding bible back into its place on his lap, the book small enough to sit idly on his thigh. It rocks back and forth in time with the bouncing of his foot, the movement bringing yet another distraction.

He wished to go back to his room, sit at his desk in his office- no, the desk in his bedroom. He hadn’t sat at the desk in his office for eight days, two hours- his eyes crack open to peek at the small LED clock in the corner of the confessional- and forty-five minutes. He prayed for the strength to sit at the mahogany desk, to write correspondence to other churches, and send letters to the people who gracefully sent donations.

Yet, perhaps he didn’t pray hard enough, didn’t kneel at the side of his bed long enough. Didn’t sit in this small box long enough. Perhaps, God has turned his nose up at him, forsaken him from the greatness of being forgiven. Even now, your ghost had its claws wrapped around his heart like a vice, whispering obscenities into his ear while he was alone. You were the one who led him down this path, and now he searched for the bright light of God with his eyes closed.

Guilt eats away at the fibers of his soul, rips him apart late at night when the image of you appears in his mind, a giggling smile on your lips as they skim across his throat. Your hands were so warm, though, dragging across his body without condescendence. He would wake up and find himself sweating profusely in his cold room the next morning, breathing heavily as his hands grip the blanket. With shaking legs, he would sit up and rip the drawer of his night stand open, glare at the blue rosary that was tied tightly around a small bible, and grab his new one.

He would drop to his knees, heart racing, and pray until the sweat on his back dried.

Even now, he thinks he can sense you in this enclosed space with him. Your scent lingering in the air around him, permeating his clothes no matter how many times he changes or washes them.

Hands gripping his rosary, he hopes the metal cross cuts into his skin. Maybe then, if he sacrificed his blood, God would see he was punished long enough. Maybe then, he could be forgiven. Your face appears in his mind, and his teeth clench. How could you do this to him? Reduce him to nothing but the filth that lines the pristine floors?

Jayce startles when the door on the other side opens, his breath quick as he shifts in place. Clearing his throat, he waits for the person on the other side to get comfortable, their throat clearing. It's silent then, both Jayce and the newcomer getting comfortable with each other. Jayce’s eyes clenched shut, your scent washing over him with newfound strength, the hair on the back of his neck stands and as if he was struck with lightning-

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Your voice.

His heart shakes, muscles tight and his breath short. Immediately, he thinks he can zone in on your breathing, so calm and quiet. Eyes cracking open, his head tilts to the lattice, and he can see your lips curved into a smirk. It's sickening, how the sight of you can make him feel so electric. You ignite something deep within him, akin to a lighter held under a sparkler. His stomach clenches, and his leg stalls its bounce. Fingers gripping his rosary, the sudden weight of the bible in his lap taunts him.

“I’ve never confessed before, could you guide me?”

“I-” his voice squeaked out, and he snapped his jaw shut. Swallowing, Jayce looks back to his lap, gazing at the rosary. Was it just him, or did it suddenly look like the blue one he cast aside? Was the small figure of Jesus gazing with accusatory eyes? Did he know what was reeling in his mind at the sight of you?

“Father?”

His eyes shut tight, head falling towards his chest, shoulders hunched, robes tight over his shoulders, “I listen to your confession.”

It took a lot of strength to force his voice into a steady cadence. The small box seemed to be a little too small, he seemed too big to be in here. What once was comfort, was now torment. Your voice filled his side, bouncing off the wood and surrounding him.

“I give you advice, and you’ll- um,” he shifts in his spot, refusing to meet your gaze through the lattice, “You’ll be on your way.”

“Are you alright, Father?” You’re smiling, he just knows it. He can see your face behind his eyelids, how bright your gaze is, how your pupils are dilating at the sight of him so unkept.

Nodding his head, he takes one more deep breath. He couldn’t let you see him like this, he was supposed to push what happened between you to the back of his mind. Forget it, even. He was praying to God for forgiveness, and by letting you entrap his senses, he would be pushed back to step one.

“What was that?” Taunting, you hum, “I didn’t quite hear you.”

Shivering, he lifts his head and finally gazes through the lattice, meeting your sharp eyes. They’re encapsulating, looking at him with knowing. You can see him for what he truly is, a man of sin.

Yet, it was your fault he was like this, why he swallows a whine and lets his mouth open to answer. If he were to put on a strong front, you would understand why he couldn’t progress in this sinful back and forth. Couldn’t let you torment him with your pretty words, or your addicting touch.

“I’m here to listen to your confession, please just-” voice trailing off, his hands grip the rosary for comfort, but all he finds is the sharp edges of the cross.

You chuckle, head leaning against the wood, raising your hand to tap your forehead, chest, and each shoulder.

“In the name of the Father, Son, and The Holy Spirit. My confession, Father, is that I cannot stop thinking about you.”

Jayce smiles, gaze locked onto his rosary, “That’s normal- I’m your Priest-”

“No, Father,” voice quiet. serious, you shift closer to the lattice, “I think of you when my fingers are inside me, I wish they were yours-”

Muscles tight, Jayce says the first thing that comes to mind, “that was a mistake-”

“Was it? You seemed to enjoy yourself a lot, Father.”

“Temptation is a powerful thing, but you must find it in yourself to resist.”

There’s silence on the other side, your gaze assessing him. Humming, you let your head swing to the side, your own fingers rubbing across the tops of your thighs absentmindedly.

“How can I resist, Father?”

Finally, his lungs allow air in. He breathes deeply, ignoring his shaking hands. He ignores the fire in his gut, how his thighs clench together, and recites words from the book still resting in his lap, “Asks for guidance out of temptation, and for the strength to use the Word of God as a weapon.”

“Ah,” you sigh, “the Word of God as a weapon? Do you really think that’ll save me?”

There's a teasing tilt to your tone, and Jayce ignores it. Voice closer, you whisper through the lattice, “have you been saved, father?”

“I ask for forgiveness, just as you are now,” he whispers in return. Hands shaking, he lets his fingers return to fidgeting with the rosary beads. His mouth waters, wanting you to drop it into his mouth-

No, he cannot think of that. He was a holy man. Faithful to his God.

“So, you’ve confessed?”

Nodding, he bites his cheek, his skin burning, “I- I have.”

“Liar.”

White hot fear runs through his veins, and his hands unknowingly release the rosary. It clatters to the ground between his feet, and his eyes meet yours. They narrowed, disappointingly pointed his way; All of a sudden, he felt the roles reversed.

“No-”

“How often do you think of me, Jayce?”

Heart racing, his hands grip the tops of his thighs, feel the muscles beneath tighten.

His chest heaves, and his legs clench together. Pushing back that licking flame that ignited between his legs, all because of your voice. It's sticky-sweet like honey, drowning him in molasses that clogs his senses. He can feel his cock twitch, wanting your touch instead of his.

Head leaning back against the wood, he can feel a droplet of sweat run down the back of his neck, soaking into the roman collar. His shaking hands move to grip his bible, fingers sliding between the pages to seek any form of strength. He can hear it rip under the pressure of his grip, yet how else would he ground himself? His mind races, feeling your eyes staring at him through the lattice

“Does your God know you think of me as much as you do him?”

Jayces’ shuddering breath is loud, eyebrows furrowed as he wills his racing heart to calm. He must not give in. This must be another test for him, he thinks. This was God's way of seeing if he was worthy of forgiveness.

Yet, you seemed so genuine, even if you sounded teasing.

“What do you tell yourself at night? Maybe I could speak the same, so I can forget about you.”

A whine, and Jayce thinks he doesn't want you to forget him. He couldn’t forget you, no matter what he did, what he said, or tried. Stomach turning, he can see your waiting eyes, how you won’t change the subject until he gives in.

“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us of our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”

“Ah,” you nod your head once, “Do you want to be forgiven, though?”

He’s silent, clenching his teeth, “Of course.”

You sigh, and with a low voice you talk with a harsh tone, “then why are you still speaking to me?”

“I-” voice stuck in his throat, Jayce knows he’s had the opportunity to steer the conversation back, to not engage you in such sinful conversation. Yet, he craved it. To be told what to do, to be on his knees between your knees instead of the altar.

“Oh,” you say, Jayce freezing. Had you read him so easily?

“Oh, you’re liking this, aren’t you?”

Whining, his thighs clench. You laugh, and it makes his chest seize. Cock jumping in his robes, Jayce refuses to touch himself. There were people outside, they would hear-

“I’m liking this too,” you whisper, and he can hear the first button pop from your pants. Shoulders tense, his breathing turns rapid.

“You’ve plagued my mind everyday, Jayce, its tormenting-”

A zipper, and Jayce can feel his thighs shake. His fingers curl against the pages, and he clenches his eyes shut. You were taunting him, you wouldn’t touch yourself now, in the confessional of all places.

“You-” he whines, “you’ve been tormenting me-”

“Good,” a sigh, and he wishes to be in the small space with you, to tear down this wall to see your form in all its glory, “should we pray together, Father? Beg together for forgiveness?”

Shivering, he pushes his head further against the wood, swallowing with a dry throat.

“Lord God, in your goodness have mercy on me: do not look on my sins, but take away all my guilt. Create in me a clean heart and renew within me an upright spirit-”

Your voice starts immediately after his, repeating his words, breathy and soft. The fire, slowly swelling in his stomach, licks and burns at his chest at the sound of your sweet voice wrapping around each syllable of the prayer. He sets the bible in the small space beside him, sliding his free hands across his torso.

He moves, fingers undoing the buttons of his robes. With a shaking grip, he slowly pushes it to the side, the air wrapping around his thighs. Cock jumping, Jayce whines softly. His hands rest on the inside of his thighs, his cock radiating heat under his boxers. Chest shuddering, his back slouches, legs spreading.

“forgive all my sins, renew your love in my heart, help me to live in perfect unity with my fellow Christians that I may proclaim your saving power to all the world.”

Tone shaking, he barely opens his eyes to find you already looking at him. Your own eyes were half lidded, chest heaving as your mouth opened to copy him once more. He can barely see you, but he can make out how your shirt was pulled up on your tummy, your pants undone, your hand hidden under the fabric. Your back was arching, neck exposed to the light that seeps in.

He can’t help himself, his hands grip his cock over his boxers, hips jumping into the contact. Jayce growls, rough and gravely as he grips the base of his clothed cock.

“Jayce,” you whimper, and he moans. You sounded so heavenly, his mind reeling at the cadence.

“Do you think we’ll be forgiven?” You ask, smirking. He shakes his head, and watches as your gaze shifts to the ceiling. Eyes closing, your eyebrows furrow as you lose yourself in your own pleasure. Jayce whimpers, wanting to be the one giving you that pleasure, he wants you to be above him, using him, punishing him for being so sinful.

“Keep talking, Jayce, be a good boy.”

“Hnng- I-” he chokes, snapping his gaze to his lap. There was a rapidly growing wet patch at the tip of his cock, he grips the top of his boxers, pulling the elastic away to push it down his thighs. The fabric is tight against his skin, straining. With his cock finally free, he softly trails the tips of his shaking fingers along the shaft. Twitching, he presses his finger into the beads of pre that seeps from the tip.

“Tell me another prayer, Father,” it's harsh now, how your eyes glare at him. He bites his cheek, sparing a glance to the bible next to him, searching his mind for anything to say. All he could think of, though, was you.

“Therefore, confess your sins to- to one another and pray for one another-” he sighs, tears gathering on his waterline as he finally grips his cock tightly. His thumb swipes across the tip, and he moves his wrist once, slowly pumping his cock from top to base, and back up again, its uncoordinated, sloppy, “that you may be healed. The p- hnn- prayer of a righteous person has great power as it- it is working.”

“I want to taste you, Jayce,” you whisper. He hips jerk, and his eyes snap to the lattice separating you both. You’re so much closer, and when he leans close to look closer, he can see your pants pushed down your thighs. The soft skin of your thighs looked so inviting, spread as far as the restricting clothing will allow, your fingers circling your pulsing clit as your other hand grips onto the edge of the seat.

“You can’t,” he whimpers, much louder than he intended. He wanted nothing more than for your mouth to taste him, replace his shaking hand and bring him to euphoria once more.

“I can,” you reply with a hiss, “the gap is wide enough, let me taste you.”

Jayce furrows his eyebrows, his focus turning to how big the gap actually was, it was small enough that at a glance you wouldn't be able to decipher what was on the other side. Yet, if you looked close enough, you’d be able to tell what was what. His hand leaves his cock, gathering his sticky pre onto the pad of his middle finger, and slowly raises it to the gap in the lattice. His chest shudders as he watches you move, meeting your lips on the other side.

His moan is loud, reverberating in the space as your wet tongue wraps around his finger. You're sucking hard, teeth grazing his skin, the breath escaping your nose warm on his already scorching skin.

Your mouth is gone just as quickly as it wrapped around his digit, your tongue swiping across your bottom lip as your hand drips deeper on your cunt, no doubt pushing them inside.

“You’re an angel,” you whisper, and Jayce’s back arches slightly. His hand retracts from the lattice, immediately running the spit coated skin across his lower lip before sucking his own finger. He could taste you, the candy you ate, the coffee you drank, and he could taste himself. A tangy saltiness that lingers in the back of his throat.

He almost sobs, drool dripping down to coat his palm. When he pulls his finger away, his hands are replaced onto his cock, now glistening with the collection of his and your spit. He doesn’t realize that he’s gasping for air, his legs shaking, the choked sound of a whimper pushing from his throat.

“Be quiet, Jayce.”

Licking his lips, he clenches his thighs shut, pushing his head back against the wood. His cock was throbbing in his grip, and when he slowly rubbed his thumb across the tip, he moaned.

“I-” he swallows, throat suddenly too dry, “I can’t, I’m sorry-”

You sigh, and he can feel his stomach clench, “grab your Bible, show it to me.”

“What?-”

“Show me your Bible, now,” you hiss, and his hand leaves his cock to grab the leather-bound book. Raising it, he refuses to look at the gold writing across the front.

“Good boy, open it up for me, any page will do.”

Dropping it from your gaze, he lets the binding fall to any page, heaving as his eyes blearily look over the page. The text was so small, mixing together in a conglomeration of sentences and prayer he could no longer read. All he could think of was you you you you-

“Rip out a page, and put it in your mouth.”

Freezing, Jayce finds it hard to breathe. Rip out a page? That’s blasphemous.

“Since you love to recite God's words so much, why don't you eat them so no one can hear what's rightfully mine?”

Jayce can’t, he simply can’t. By doing this, he would never be forgiven-

Yet, would you forgive him if he refused?

You can sense his racing mind, your voice a calm beacon in the rough waves of a storm, “Tell me another prayer, Father- One more, just for me.”

Jayce breathes deeply, calming himself, “You are my refuge and strength; no matter what happens, I trust You and will not be afraid.”

“Good boy,” you coo, “do as you're told, Jayce.”

Mind over matter, Jayce forces his unwilling hands to rip a page, bringing it slowly to his lips. The pages were thin, and when he pushed it against his tongue, his spit immediately soaked through it. The ink was slowly seeping from the paper, bitter against his tongue. He looks at you, teeth chewing down onto the paper to keep it in place.

Smirking, you tilt your head, “another.”

He rips multiple pages at once, pushing them between his teeth to meet the other.

You scoff, “such a good boy, doing what you’re told. Yet, you can’t follow your own God’s teachings.”

He can do nothing but whimper around the pages, his hand dropping the bible to the ground to grab back onto his cock, jerking his wrist to the sound of your voice.

“You would do anything I ask, wouldn’t you?” You taunt, your own hand picking up its pace. Sweat shines on your forehead, lips glistening with spit as you shift in your spot, your other hand joining the one on your cunt. Whimpering, you push your own fingers inside, the other still circling your swollen and throbbing clit.

“How far would you go for me, I wonder?” A sigh, and your eyes close. Smiling at the thoughts that race through your mind, “would you leave the priesthood for me?”

His head nods before he even realizes it, your head snapping to watch him, smile widening.

With the small semblance of clarity in his mind remaining, Jayce thinks of the forgiveness he’s been begging to receive for weeks.

It’s always been you, he realizes. You’re the one he seeks forgiveness from, you’re the one who he prays to each night. Not the God whose teachings he no longer follows. Not the God who judges him for feeling emotions only you can bring him. You would forgive him, you wouldn’t judge him for his actions. He would do anything for you, he thinks. If you asked him, he would be yours- he was yours from the moment you sat on his desk.

His pleasure washes over him in waves, no longer held back by guilt. He allows his hand to squeeze, feels the bite of pleasure in his thighs.

Your whine makes his hand jerk faster, that sweet noise the only thing that he seeks out in the night. Breathing heavily, he bites down on the pages still lodged in his mouth. Some were becoming too soggy, the ink transferring onto his tongue.

“I’m so wet, Father-” you sigh, and he can hear your fingers run through your sloppy folds. It’s pathetic, how his hips rise off the seat to chase after it. He wanted to see, wanted to taste you-

“Do you want a taste? I bet you do.” He whines, tongue pressing against paper and you laugh. It's quiet, airy as you release a breathy moan. His eyes strain to watch your mouth drop open, your fingers pressing against your tongue. Eyes watering, he clenches them shut and leans his head forwards against the lattice, the wood cool against his scorching skin.

Your fingers trail down your chin, chest heaving, and you push your hand back through your folds. Your soft skin glows in the light, blue’s and pink’s coloring you Holy as your glistening fingers come back into view. Instead of raising to your lips, they slowly close in on the small openings of the lattice. Your other fingers were still inside you, he realizes, you were halting your own pleasure just to tease him.

“Why don’t you taste what I give? Rather than your God,” you taunt, glint in your eyes. Without hesitation he lets the soggy paper drop from his mouth, drool pouring from behind. Down his chin, soaking his beard. Bits of paper remain on his lips, the bitter taste of ink left behind. He can faintly hear the paper hit the floor, a wet smack, and he runs his tongue across his lip. He didn’t want anything to dilute your taste, not even his own spit.

The tips of your fingers appear on his side, and he surges forwards to meet them. His tongue touches soft skin, lips pressed against wood. You push further into his mouth, your slick coating his taste buds. It washes away the taste of paper and ink, his body shivering as his hand grips tight onto his cock. It pulses, begging for your touch instead of his.

“I wonder what God would think, you forsaking his word for such sin.”

He whines, tongue parting your middle and ring finger to taste the slick between, feeling you press down onto his tongue, sliding as far as the lattice will allow. You almost hit the back of his throat, and he pushes harder against the wood, wanting you as deep as possible.

“Fucking-” you hiss, retracting your finger and quickly licking across the tips before pushing them back between your folds. The sloppy-slick sounds louder than before, his hand trying to catch up to your rapid pace.

There's a fire growing inside him, quick and unrelenting as his hand sloppily jerks his cock. His thighs twitch, toes curling in his shoes as his lungs beg for more air. Although he was gasping, he felt like he wasn’t getting enough air.

“Don’t you fucking cum yet,” your voice growls, and he sobs. Pressure behind his eyes, scalding tears on his cheeks, his tongue searching for your taste that lingers.

“Jayce-”

“Please- I-” he whispers, hearing the horrifying sound of heels against the floor outside of the confessional. Could they hear what was happening inside? Hear how their priest was touching himself, committing a sin he was no longer guilty about?

His hand falters, cold humiliation creeping over his shoulders.

“Ignore them, puppy-” your voice borders a whisper, “keep going- tell me another prayer.”

He looks to you, sniffling lightly as his hand resumes its previous pace. Nodding your own head, you encourage him. There was a gathering heat in his gut, embers collection to prepare a large bonfire. Your gaze threw wood onto it, flames catching quickly. His thighs felt gooey, his mind blank, but he wills himself to think of any prayer, just for you.

“To all those- those that repent of in this wise- Oh, hnn- and look to J-Jesus- Christ for their salvation. F-fuck- I declare- that the absolution of sins is effected- please, oh fuck- In the name of the F-father- and of the son, oh- hnng ‘m gonna- Wait-”

“You can finish father, come on-”

“Mm- and- i can’t- h-hold-” he begs, your voice pushing him impossibly closer.

“And of the Holy Spirit, Amen-”

Fire under his skin, and he feels his release begin. A raging fire in his gut, spreading to his thighs and chest. It tingles so intensely, and his hand clamps over his mouth, biting onto his palm to muffle his strained moan. Blinding white explodes behind his eyes, and he can faintly hear your cooing voice talking him through it. He wanted to hold your hand through this intensity, wanted your calming embrace rather than the prayer that was seared into his mind. God could no longer provide comfort, for you had burned him away to make space for your own presence.

He can hear your own whines, choked moans as you, no doubt, go through your own orgasm. You bite down on your cheek to keep yourself silent, hips canting into your hands to chase that pleasure. Jayce tries to watch, but his hands feel his thighs, and can't think of anything else but the euphoria he was feeling.

Heavy breathing is what he hears when he comes back, his hands and skin covered in his own sticky release, cock still throbbing and red, yet too sensitive to continue. His abs hurt, his arm was slowly relaxing from the cramping that occurred. Licking his lips, he brings his hand closer to his mouth, tempted to taste the opaque liquid that coats him.

Feeling your eyes on him, he looks over, you’re waiting on the other side of the lattice. With shaking hands, he raises his tired arm, slides his finger through the lattice, and feels your tongue wrap around the digit slowly. Heart in his ears, he makes circles on your tongue, feeling the muscle move and chase after the cum, a smile slowly stretching across his face.

Your hand appears, your own shining fingers pushing through the gaps in the lattice, and Jayce wills his lethargic body to move to wrap his own lips around your fingers. His cock twitches at the taste of your own cum, his tongue licking away the sweet-tart taste. Your face was so close, he could feel the breath from your nose against his cheek, your body heat seeping through in the slightest. When he pulls away for air, he opens his mouth to speak.

A voice beats him to it, though, older and questioning.

“Father?”

Ice cold fear, and he tilts his head to stare at the door ahead.

#arcane x reader #smut #arcane smut #hwawrites #jayce talis #jayce talis x reader #jayce x reader #jayce talis smut #priest jayce talis #misuse of a confessional #arcane jayce #arcane imagine #jayce imagine #arcane

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dixons-sunshine · 1 year ago

Text

“And then the wolf said, “And I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow yer house down.” And just like tha', the first lil' piggy's house, the house made'a straw, was blown down in a matter'a seconds. It was quite the sight, ya see. Straw was blown everywhere. All'a the lil' piggy's “hard” work was ruined. Personally, I dun' see wha' he did as hard work. Buildin' somethin' from straw dun' seem tha' hard to me, but I ain't ever tried to build somethin' from straw 'fore, so I guess I can't say tha', huh, Peanut?”

You chuckled fondly as Daryl told the story to your baby—well, technically your baby bump—with his own spin on the tale as old as time. His head was resting on your bump as he told the tale, and your fingers were softly and tenderly working through his hair. He was also gently caressing your bump, adding to your own comfort. It was a serene moment, one that you treasured dearly.

“The wolf then went over to the second lil' piggy's house. “Lil' pig, lil' pig, lemme—” Daryl's words were cut off by the feeling of a kick, and he let out a small gasp. He looked up at you, a look of wonder in his eyes. “Was tha'—”

“Yeah,” you cut him off, your fingers still gently treading through his hair. “It was a kick. I think Peanut loves the story, and your voice.”

Daryl gave you a small smile. “Yeah?” he asked rhetorically, his hand gently rubbing your baby bump. He brought his lips down to your exposed stomach, placing a tender kiss to the bump. “Do ya love the story, Peanut? S'it a good story?” As if responding to his voice, the baby kicked again, eliciting a chuckle and a soft “ow” from you. He looked up at you in concern. “Wha's wrong?”

“Nothing. That kick just stung a little, is all,” you told him reassuringly, gently taking his hand and leading it to where the last kick was, encouraging him to rub there, both to ease the slight pain and to have him feel if another kick happened—which it did.

Daryl smiled and pressed another kiss to your bump, right on top of where the kick was. “Ya gotta ease up on yer mama, lil' one,” he whispered affectionately. “I love feelin' yer kicks, but it can hurt yer mama if ya kick too hard. Ya gotta be careful, alrigh'?” In answer, your baby kicked again, this time gently enough to feel like a mere flutter more than anything, but hard enough for Daryl to feel. Daryl chuckled and pressed yet another kiss to your stomach. “Tha's more like it. Good job, Peanut.”

You smiled fondly at the sight. You had no doubts in your mind that Daryl would be a good dad, but this little moment just added more confirmation to your previous thoughts. However, you knew that if you brought it up, and no matter how affectionately you put it, Daryl's mood would dampen. No matter how many times you told him he'd be a good dad, his fears would overshadow that statement. So you settled for something else instead.

“I love you, Dar.”

Daryl looked up at you with a fond smile. “I love ya too, Sunshine. So fuckin' much.” Daryl placed another kiss to your bump. “And I love ya too, Peanut.” He rested his head back on your stomach, letting out a small, contented sigh. “Now, where were we? Oh, yeah, the second lil' piggy. Now, the wolf went up to the second lil' piggy's home, the one made'a sticks, and...”

As Daryl carried on with the story, you laid your head back on the pillow, closing your eyes in contentment. Yeah, you had no doubts that Daryl would be an amazing father, and you couldn't wait to meet your little one and officially start your little family.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 2 months ago

Text

Dismantle

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Word Count: 11033

Warnings: Canon typical violence. Tad bit of angst. Mentions of previous SA (Blink and you'll miss it), I think that's all in this one.

Author’s Note: Hello long wait in between parts. I managed to keep this all as one long part. I figured why force you guys to have it in two parts when you can consume it in one. We're reaching the end of this series. I only have one more part planned out for this series. I hope that you guys enjoy it! The divider is by the lovely @firefly-graphics ♥

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

<< Interrogations || Phantom Masterlist || Phantom Playlist || Set Me Free >>

“What was he planning on building?” It was Ross's voice that filled the air.

“He took the data information his brother had collected along with blood samples from test subjects.” She began as she looked towards Ross. “He also found a way to miniaturize Project Insight. Put the two together and-”

“You get a weapon that can turn specific people into enhanced weapons.” Steve said, shaking his head.

“There’s no way he could possibly do that.” Ross shook his head. “That kind of technology-”

“Can be created.” She added even though she was sure that he wasn’t going to say that. “DNA testing was a whole craze. It wasn’t hard for Hydra to obtain and analyze the data. The parts that were being collected would ensure it was possible. I’ve seen the plans. It was only a matter of time before it came together and went into the testing phase of things.”

“So what's the plan?” Sam asked.

“Element of surprise is out of the question.” She said as her eyes moved from one person to another. “The moment Ross was informed I was taken in, he knew too. There's no way to play it like my mission has been successful.”

“Then we go head on.” Steve said. “They’ll see us coming. But we’ll be ready for it.”

“We don’t even know where they’ll be.” Wanda noted. It caused everyone to look towards Y/N.

She sighed softly and nodded her head. “There's a few places they’ll be heading now that they know I’m out of the equation. I’ll even be able to give detailed routes into those facilities without setting off any of their alarms.”

“That’s gonna come in handy.” Natasha said.

It didn't take them long to go over possible locations and how the team would be able to use the information she was providing to their advantage. They had several plans in place for every scenario that could possibly happen between now and them getting to Strucker.

Steve gave commands for each group from the team. Each one with a different plan of attack. And when Steve’s attention turned to her, she already could feel the irritation growing within her.

“You and Clint will stay here.” He began and her head already started shaking. “If anything, be our eyes and ears with FRIDAY.”

“I'm coming with one of you.” She said the moment he finished. She wasn’t going to agree with what was being asked of her.

“No.”

“Are you crazy?”

All three responses came at once, causing her to raise her eyebrow at them as she crossed her arms over her chest. The nos had come from Steve and Bucky. The ‘are you crazy?’ came from Tony. “You're not making me sit this one out.”

“She is crazy.” Tony mumbled as he ran his hand over his face.

“You know I’m good on the field.” She said with a shake of her head. “I get that there’s the possibility of not trusting me right now, but I want to see this through, just as much as you do.”

“We trust you.” Steve began. “But given the situation, it would be better to have you safe here and not out there. We don’t know what they could do-”

“I can handle myself. I’ve been handling situations like this my whole life.” She argued. She wasn’t going to let this go without a fight.

She knew there was a bigger fight at hand with what the team was getting ready for. But she wasn’t about to be kept out of the fight. She’d go down fighting before she was left behind.

“Buck, help me out here.” Steve looked over at Bucky.

“What he means to say,” Bucky said, gaining her attention. “While we would be happy to have you fighting alongside us, you could be a few short words away from fighting against us. And while we had our moment of fighting each other earlier, I’d like not to be put up against you again.”

“They don't have-'' She stopped herself mid sentence when reality came crashing through her mind.

She would have said they don't have her trigger words. That the only person who had them still, if he hadn’t destroyed it, was standing right in front of her. But she had been reprogrammed. She didn’t know anything about it this time around. She didn’t know if all it was going to take was a specific set of words to have her back under.

She understood their worry. She understood why they wouldn't want her to be there or anywhere on the mission. Hydra knew how to manipulate her and they were going to do just that.

But she couldn't just wait around and do very little. While she could give the team play by play instructions through each facility, it wasn't enough for her. She needed her hands in it in some way.

A defeated sigh passed her lips a moment later and she nodded her head. “Fine.”

She could feel the way Bucky eyed her for a moment. There was something in his eyes that told her that he had been ready for more of a fight. A moment later, he nodded his head in acceptance. But his eyes never left hers.

“Let’s head out.” Steve’s voice filled the air before the room started to clear out.

“I told myself I wasn’t going to let you out of my sight.” He said before letting out a sigh.

“Let me go with you. I can stay on the quinjet if that’s what’s needed.” The moment Bucky started shaking his head she changed tactics. “Then stay here with me. Clint can go and handle it.”

“As much as I want to, we both know I can’t. I have to see this through for both of us.” He needed her to understand. He was the one that was free from the Hydra’s hold. She had been taken from them just hours ago. He needed to make sure they wouldn’t have a chance to take her back. “When I get back, we’re going to have a lot to talk about.”

All she could do was nod. And when she didn’t say anything else, Bucky had taken that as his cue to leave. The faster he got going, the faster he could come back to her.

Out of a long forgotten habit, Y/N had found herself exiting the conference room and started making her way towards the common area. Her brain told her there was something in that room that she needed to see. And when she walked in, seeing the floor to ceiling windows, she was reminded why she wanted to go in there.

It gave her the view of the air strip that was on the property. It also gave view to the several cars that were lined up as several agents climbed in. The scramble before a mission. She thought. Something she had seen plenty of times.

But that old familiar habit reminded her that this was where she used to watch Bucky board a quinjet. It was also where she would anxiously wait for him to return from a mission. On more than one occasion, she fell asleep in the chair by the window waiting for him to return.

As she looked out the window now, she could see the way the jets had been turned on as the ramp began closing on a few of the quinjets. Vehicles were already starting to drive off to give the aircrafts the needed space to take off. It wouldn’t be long before the runway was empty.

“We’re not staying are we?” Clint asked as he came to stand beside her. His eyes watched as one of the quinets took off. His face was neutral in comparison to hers. He could see the thought process as clear as day on her face. He knew she was waiting for it to be clear for her to leave.

“You can stay here if you want. But I can't sit around and do nothing.” She noted as she began walking away the moment she was sure everyone on the mission had left.

“If you're going, I'm going with you.” He said with a shrug. “Someone has to keep you from being triggered.”

She rolled her eyes slightly. “Now the question is what are we taking?” The closest location was close enough to get to by car. “Car or Quinjet?”

“I have something better in mind.” A mischievous smirk pulled at his lips before he tilted his head towards the garage. When her eyebrow raised he chuckled. “Grab your gear and meet me in the garage. I'm sure you remember where you kept your gear. ”

It didn’t take long for Y/N to find her old locker and have tactical belts filled with weapons once more. The weight of the belts wrapped around her had brought a strange comfort to her. It was from constantly having them over the last several months. Maybe it was wrong to find comfort in weapons, but the way the last 24 hours had been, she’d take familiarity over anything else.

When she walked out to the garage, she found Clint waiting for her. “What is the better option you were talking about?”

Clint only gave her a grin before he walked over and pulled the sheet off of a black Honda sports bike. He watched as her eyes shifted as she took in the bike. Clint could only assume it was the memory of how much she had loved it.

She walked over and looked over the bike. It had been some time since she had seen it, let alone rode it. She remembered the day she had bought the bike. How excited she had been the few days leading up to getting it. It was the first thing that had ever truly been hers and she spent every free moment she could riding it.

“We found it at one of the safe houses.” He noted as he watched her. “It was around the time Bucky started looking for you and he insisted that it come back with us. Mentioned that if you had seen how much dust was collecting on it, you would have killed someone.”

She shook her head before she looked back over her shoulder at him. “I left it there when I decided to stop using the safe houses. It felt like it belonged to a life that I was no longer a part of.”

“Everyone comes back home eventually.” He said, giving her a smile.

She returned the smile before she found herself a moment later sitting on the bike while pulling her helmet over her head. The motions of bringing the bike to life caused a grin to pull at her lips even though it couldn’t be seen. The memories of it all made her wish that she hadn’t been going for a mission and just for a joy ride.

Lifting the visor on the helmet, she looked over at Clint. “Hop on.” It didn’t take Clint long to climb up behind her and get himself situated. “You better hold on to your arrows, Hawkeye.” She said before the sound of tires screeching along the pavement filled the air before she was taking off.

_____

With the information that Y/N had provided, each set of teams had managed to work their way in undetected. With their stealth, they had been able to take down several Hydra soldiers in the process. Each group hadn’t been met with anything they couldn’t handle.

At a majority of the locations, the teams had been able to clear it completely. That if anything they caught them in the middle of attempting to destroy any evidence. And with a little physical force, FRIDAY soon had access to it all.

For Bucky, Sam, and Steve, it had almost been too easy for them to make the progress they had. The lower level entrance had been left unguarded. While they had kept themselves ready for anything, there was something off. In comparison to the other’s reports, they had an easier time clearing each section of the building.

“Something doesn’t feel right.” It was Sam that voiced the same thought they were all thinking. “It shouldn’t be this easy. Not with the intel we have.”

Even with Redwing discreetly flying ahead, there wasn’t a soul they came in contact with. Thermal scans didn’t even pick up any guards on the levels above or below them. And that in itself should have brought them some sort of relief. But it didn’t.

“Maybe there’s another place she didn’t know about.” Steve added. They had been currently working their way through an area of the building that was used for storage. “Or they left in a rush knowing we were coming.”

“This place hasn’t been trashed yet.” Bucky noted. “They haven’t left. The better question is-”

“Found them.” Sam said as Redwing alerted him to the incoming soldiers. “It seems they’ve finally realized we’re here.”

“How many?” Bucky asked.

“Enough that we won’t break a sweat.” Sam responded with a shrug.

“Let’s hope so.” Steve responded just before the doors from both the left and right busted open.

Much like Sam had mentioned, the three of them had been able to handle the amount of soldiers that filled into the room. While the numbers may have been a tad daunting, with as much training as they had, it almost felt like another day in the office.

By the time the last one had been put down, the three of them had made it to the opposite side of the warehouse and through another corridor. Another part of the building that hadn’t been so much as touched or trashed as they were expecting. If anything, it was like they were preparing to move into this one.

“I don’t like this.” Bucky noted.

“I second that.” Sam said as he opened another door, finding stored equipment.

Some of the equipment had been covered up in sheets while some that were pressed against the wall were uncovered. All of it pieces to what Sam could assume was the new and improved Project Insight.

“This still doesn't make any sense.” Steve shook his head as he entered the room with the equipment, taking note of the pieces he could see.. “If the other locations are scrambling to destroy all of their information, what’s different about this one?”

“Maybe the ones that ambushed the compound were at this location?” Sam offered as he pulled one of the sheets off.”

The moment he did, he heard an audible gasp leave Steve and Bucky. Beneath the sheet had been a memory suppressing machine. And by the looks of it, it was as shiny as new.

“Makes sense.” Bucky shook his head, not being able to take his eyes off the machine in front of him. It made something in his stomach turn at the sight of it in front of him. “If they plan on creating enhanced-”

“They need a way to control them.” Steve shook his head as he looked over at Bucky.

As the three of them continued to look at the suppressing machine, they hadn't noticed the two agents sneaking up on them. And when Bucky had finally noticed it and began aiming at the soldiers in the doorway, a set of gunshots were going off. The bodies fell to the ground causing three sets of eyes to widen slightly before bracing themselves for what could be waiting just past the entry.

“First rule about entry ways,” A familiar voice filled the air before Y/N took a step into the entryway. “Never forget about them. You never know what lurks just beyond them.”

It wasn’t hard to miss the several emotions that played through Bucky before he settled on one. She could easily see the way his eyes shifted from disbelief to anger before he began shaking his head and closing the space between them.

“Barton unconscious somewhere?” He asked her as he came to a stop in front of her, his eyes narrowing at her.

“Like I’d let her even try.” Clint said as he came into the room a moment later. While his hold on the bow string had eased, he hadn’t let it go completely.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Bucky asked, never pulling his attention off of her. “The whole reason for you staying behind-”

“I listened.” She cut him off with a shrug. “You said nothing about following behind after you left.”

She knew that was probably one of the worst things she could have said. She was trying to ease some of the growing tension between them. Before Bucky could even begin to voice his irritation with what she had said, she continued.

“It can’t just be you doing this. I need to be here just as much.” She kept her eyes on him. “This is my life they currently have a hold on and I need to be here to see that it’s destroyed. I can’t be the one to sit around and wait and hope that it all works out. I’m here now and it’d be pointless to make me leave. I can handle this and you know it.”

Her attention may have been on him, watching as anger and frustration began to change to worry, but she hadn’t missed the movement out of her right peripheral. The other three were to her left and there was no way it could have been any of the others. It caused her to lift her gun and pull the trigger without looking away from him. A thud followed shortly after.

“I feel like that’s convincing enough.” Sam noted. A chuckle from Clint followed a moment later.

A glare formed on Bucky’s face as he continued to look at her. There were a million things going through his mind at that moment. He wanted to drag her out of there and take her back to the compound. He wanted her as far away from here as possible.

He knew that out of the options of facilities she pointed out that this one was the one to be more on alert about. That fact was proven with what they had just finished dealing with. The chances of Strucker being there were growing by the minute.

But his face had softened a bit as understanding had begun to fill him. While he wanted her safe, he couldn’t force her to leave. And if he was being honest with himself, there was a part of him that knew she would do something like this. It never failed that Y/N would be somewhere she shouldn’t be.

I just got you back. He wanted to tell her. I don’t know what I’d do if-

“Stay close to us.” He said a moment later. “If anything even comes close to going south, you get out of here and don’t look back.”

It was the only way he was going to accept her staying there. He wasn’t going to let her be anywhere out of arm's reach while they were there. And if the moment things got out of their control, he was going to make sure she made it out safely.

“You got it Sarge.” She said with a mock salute before a small smirk pulled at the corner of her lips.

“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, we’ve managed to clear out a majority of this level. Minus the few of them trickling in.” Steve said, pulling their attention. While any other time he would have left the two to deal with this, now wasn’t the time. “Do you think with this breathing room we could hook up FRIDAY?”

“It wouldn’t be too hard to do.” She said with a slight shrug. “We could technically do it from down here. I just need to get to the servers down the hall.” She pointed her thumb towards a hallway towards her left.

She tried to ignore the raised eyebrows she saw. It was slightly off putting to be there as it was. And for that information to come out so easily, it added to the unspoken list that showed she had been there multiple times over the last six months.

Multiple times that some of them never resurfaced in her memories. Some of them blended with others that made it seem like she had been there less than she actually had been. But one thing was for sure. Out of the options of facilities that the Avengers had split up to, this was the one she knew like the back of her hand.

Her eyes began wandering. While she had been down this hall several times, she’d never seen inside this room. She had taken notice of the equipment by the walls and the sheets that seemed to take over a majority of the room. Just as her eyes were about to land on the machinery behind Sam, Bucky had her spun so that she was facing the exit.

“I promise it’s not worth the look.” Bucky noted from behind her, before gently leading her out of the room and out of the way for the others to exit.

It didn't take them long to make it down towards the Server room. Steve took the lead, keeping his eyes scanning just in case. Bucky and Y/N followed behind, with Sam and Clint at the back. And when they were at the server room door, it had been easy to break the lock allowing them entry.

It was almost as if she was moving on autopilot when she stepped into the room. Her mind had instantly known where to go to access the laptop tucked away. She had it open and ready before Steve or Bucky made it to her side after checking out the rest of the room. Something she hadn’t even thought about doing before walking right over.

Steve handed her a flash drive and she got to work. The four men kept an eye out for anything while her fingers ran across the keyboard. Her fingers hitting the keys had been the only sound coming from the room. All of them were on edge as she attempted to make this fast.

When she first started, she had a smirk pulling at her lips with how familiar the key strokes had been. How easy it was to hack into the system in comparison to the other things she had been up against. It wasn’t until a thought crossed her mind.

Why is this too easy?

The further she got into the system, the more that smirk fell from her lips. Even though she only needed a few more seconds before FRIDAY could take over, there was something in the back of her mind raising red flags. Soon her brows began to furrow as her fingers began moving at a snail's pace.

FRIDAY was uploading. But it had been way too easy. She was sure there would have been several more walls she would have had to break through before she had gotten to this point. It was almost as if there wasn’t anything fighting her to get in. Even she knew that Strucker wouldn’t have allowed the system to be left so unguarded.

A moment later, FRIDAY’s upload was stopped short of completing. A secondary window popped up without her so much as pressing a key. It sent a spike of fear through her. It had been a camera view of the room, pointed directly at the group. Almost as if it was watching them.

“Bucky…” She said, keeping her attention on the screen.

Bucky came and stood beside her the instant she said his name. The change in her voice was enough to set off alarms in his mind. He could see the codes moving on the screen without her touching the keyboard as the video footage continued to play.

“Did you?” He asked, wanting to be sure. He watched as she looked over at him and shook her head. “Come on,” Bucky said, a heartbeat later, taking her hand. “We need to get you out of here.”

The words had barely filled the air before the sound of glass breaking followed. The metallic clink of smoke grenades hitting the ground proved just how much of a turn this had taken in a short time. Smoke filled the air that made it almost impossible to see through it.

“There’s a stairwell just around the corner to the upper level.” She said as her hand tightened around Bucky’s for a moment before letting go and reaching for the knives at her hips. She knew without a clear sight she wouldn’t be able to use her gun. She could easily fight through with the knives she had on hand and make it through the otherside.

“Stay close.” Bucky said as he pulled his own weapons and readied himself. “If you see an opening to-”

“Leave.” She finished for him. “I know. “

She heard him and understood what he was saying. But she wasn’t going to leave him behind while she got out. She wasn’t sure how or when she’d actually do so but she was determined to get him out of there, even if it meant without her.

The sound bullets hitting metal filled the air, followed by the sound of an arrow whizzing by. Each of them engaged with soldiers that found their way into the room. The group made their way towards one of the broken windows and it wasn’t long after that Bucky and Y/N were out in the hall, facing another set of incoming soldiers.

They moved in sync the moment they moved into the hallway. It didn’t matter which way soldiers came at them, they had each other covered. It was a routine that they had developed after years of being on missions together. Something that had only ever felt comfortable between the two of them. It never flowed as smoothly with anyone else.

It didn’t matter the steps they took toward the stairwell she mentioned, they had each other covered. Where one dropped their arm, the other had replaced it. Maneuvers that put them back to back, or chest to chest, the two easily brought down the numbers they faced.

Any time someone got too close, one or the other would take care of them before falling back into the routine only they knew. By the time they reached the opening to the stairwell, they were left facing each other with no more incoming attacks, for however brief that may be.

Once their eyes met each other’s, they dropped their weapon to their sides. In one heartbeat, Bucky nodded his head once. A silent question if she was alright. She gave a nod as her response. And in the next heartbeat, Bucky was pulling her into him, his lips descending on hers.

It was a brief moment of release. It was a mix of the adrenaline from the fight and the longing that they both kept buried within them. It was a way to convey everything they hadn’t been able to in the last two years.

Bucky pulled her closer just as she wrapped her arms around his neck. How easy it would be just to get lost within each other. But both of them knew of the dangers they found themselves in. Neither of them lost to the emotions and physical actions they were feeling.

“Hate to break up the moment, but this definitely isn’t the time for this.” Clint said the moment he found the two.

A huff of a chuckle passed Bucky’s lips as he reluctantly pulled away from her. His eyes met hers and he could see the slight smirk tug at her lips as she shook her head. It was definitely worth it.

“What just happened?” Sam asked with a raised brow as he joined them.

“Nothing.” Bucky said, giving Y/N a wink before nodding his head towards the stairwell entry. “We were waiting for you guys to catch up.”

“We weren’t that far behind.” Clint noted, earning an eye roll from Bucky and a soft laugh from Y/N.

“Floor is cleared for now.” Steve approved the group last. “But the faster we get out of here, the better.”

“Up the stairs we go.” She said to the others before turning and heading up.

When they cleared the stairwell, she led them down the hall towards the left. She couldn’t place it, but everything within her gut was telling her she should have gone for the other hallway instead of the way she knew would lead them out of the building. The obvious choice could cost them seconds, but backtracking for a gut feeling would cost them more.

The main entryway to the facility would be around through the corner. They could regroup outside of it while waiting for the others.

It was as the group rounded the corner that they all skidded to a stop. Blocking their way out were several Hydra soldiers. Each of them with a gun pointed at the group. Strucker stood in the back of them, a smirk pulling at his lips.

When they attempted to turn back around, several more crowded the hall, pushing them towards the middle of the open space. The numbers in comparison looked daunting. They were surrounded and backup wouldn’t be there for a bit longer.

“What are our chances of fighting out of this one?” Sam said low enough for only the five of them to hear.

“It’s not like we haven’t before.” Clint noted.

“We’re running low on everything.” Bucky added.

“We’ll make it enough.” Steve said as they braced themselves.

“Well done, Phantom.” Strucker’s voice held humor within it as he eased his way to the front of the line. He came to a stop just a few steps directly in front of Y/N. “Part of me thought with Maximoff in your head that things wouldn’t go according to plan. But here you are.”

All five of their faces fell as they took in his words. The men looked over at her for an answer. But they all saw the same thing. She was just as confused as they were.

“No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t-” She looked towards Bucky with her mirrored expression. “I wouldn’t.

A light chuckle passed Strucker’s lips, gaining her attention once more. “It’s there in that head of yours. You may not remember our conversation, but the programming in your mind remembers it.” His eyes moved towards Bucky before moving over to the others beside them. “You were told not to return until your mission was completed.”

“The mission failed!” She said as she took a step towards him. She could feel the way the worry morphed into tension beside her. She needed them to know she didn’t betray them. “My mission was to take them down and kill the former Winter Soldier. He still lives. The Avengers still stand and they are tearing apart your facilities as we speak.”

Strucker’s attention came back to her and he began closing the space between them, crowding her space. She tensed up as she felt his lips by her ear. “Not all commands are the mission. Dig a little deeper into that head of yours, Phantom. Your commands come from me, not your handler.”

An unpleasant chill ran through her as she attempted to take a step back. Her hand almost instinctively reached back for Bucky. But Strucker grabbed a hold of her arm, keeping her from doing so. He took several steps back, pulling her with him.

She heard several guns cocking back and she was sure it had something to do with Bucky attempting to take a step towards her. But she wasn’t going to take her eyes off of Strucker, just in case. But it was as her eyes met his, and saw the gleam in his eyes that she learned what her mission had been.

Strucker stood in front of her, the very building where they had been collecting all of the equipment they’d need for his plan. A smirk had pulled at his lips as he took her in, ready for her final mission. His plan was just a few steps away.

Her eyes barely shifted as he closed the space between them. “Several units are setting up for a mission. The target is the Avengers’ compound. Their mission is to cause a distraction enough for you to get in while attempting to take out the Avengers. They will more than likely fail. Your mission will be to kill the former Winter Soldier. I need him out of the way for several reasons. But that won’t be your only mission. Get the others here by any means necessary. Get them to follow you here or however else you can. We’ll need them for the next phase. Your handler believes you only have one mission. Make it believable. Understood?”

“What is your mission?” Strucker asked as a way to make sure she fully understood.

“Kill the former Winter Soldier. Lure the Avengers here.” The words came quickly from her.

“Good. Make sure you don’t return until you are successful in your mission.” Strucker’s head nodded before holding out a file to her. “You have five hours to prep.”

Her heart sank into her stomach the moment the memory played out. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from Strucker, even as guilt and self hatred was growing within her. If she had known that had been buried within her, she never would have allowed them to go.

What made her feel worse was Bucky standing a few feet behind her. Steve chose this location to go to when he split them into teams. This had been the closest location and by some chance, they ended up here. And soon after she followed.

Don't return until your mission is complete.

“And there it is.” A smirk pulled at Strucker’s lips. “Such a perfect Asset. Completes missions even when she’s believed to be free. But as the property of Hydra, there is no freedom. Only obedience.”

From his words she was desperate to prove him wrong. She wanted to prove to herself that she still had some control over her own mind. And without another thought, she was pulling her last loaded gun from her belt with it aimed directly at Strucker’s head.

Two soldiers flanked her with their guns drawn and aimed at her. She could see them from the corners of her vision and she didn’t care. It didn’t matter that they were there. A simple pull of a trigger and she was sure she’d be able to maneuver herself out of the way before the soldiers could even get their finger to move.

She had it planned out. She had it all thought out and ready within a blink of pulling that gun up. They would be able to fight their way out and this would be a successful mission. But as she went to pull the trigger, she found her brain telling her she shouldn’t do it. That she couldn’t do it. And that confidence she had burning within her moments ago was quickly extinguished the moment Strucker started to chuckle.

“You’re not going to pull the trigger, Phantom.” A smirk pulled at Strucker’s lips.

“You don’t know that.” She responded quickly. “Maybe I’m just stalling.”

She tried to keep her voice even. She tried to make it sound like she knew what she was doing. But there was a part of her that had fear growing within her.

“Stalling?” He scoffed and took a step into the gun. The barrel of the gun touched his forehead. “Everyone in this room knows how quick you are when you’ve set your mind to it. I should already be dead on the ground. Yet, you claim you’re stalling. We both know you can’t. So why don’t you follow orders and hand the gun over.”

She fought everything within her to pull the damn trigger. Anything to wipe that smug look off of his face as he watched her. But once again, there was something forcing her not to and she hated that she didn’t know what it was.

Hearing the frustrated cry pass her lips as she handed over the gun had caused an ache to fill Bucky’s chest. He knew there was more to her reprogramming than they had known and there was nothing she could do about it. All she could do was follow orders. His orders.

“That’s my girl.”

Hearing the words come from Strucker had caused something to grow within Bucky. It was a feeling that Bucky wasn’t sure he had ever felt before. And as he watched Strucker grab Y/N’s chin, making her look directly at him, Bucky was itching to pull a trigger.

“Tell me, Sergeant Barnes.” Strucker’s eyes never left Y/N’s face as his grip on her chin tightened slightly. “Was she as obedient with you as she is with me? Accepting every command, without a second thought?”

Bucky watched as she fought Strucker’s hold before he leaned in and whispered something into her ear. It caused her to stiffen and her movements to stop altogether. If Bucky thought he wanted him dead just for being a part of a Hydra, he wanted it even more now.

The anger that had been building within him from the moment they walked into the room was growing with each word that left the man’s mouth. But that anger became boiling the moment his eyes flicked to her face.

From where he stood, he could see the way her eyes were welled with tears but there had been a vacant look within them. Bucky couldn’t even begin to think about what memories she could be reliving in the moment just from Strucker’s words. It made him want to personally bash his skull in.

As Bucky was about to take a step forward, Steve grabbed a hold of his arm. “She’s still in there.” Steve whispered. “Watch her hand.”

His eyes flashed towards Y/N’s hands. Her pointer finger made slight tracing motions along the side of her tactical suit. It was the same pattern the two used frequently. She was trying to pull herself out of the torment she was currently in. Bucky needed to get the attention off of her in some way.

“The difference between us Strucker,” Bucky began, attempting to get his attention off of her. “Is that you had to take her will away from her in order for her to accept you. I never needed to.”

He racked his brain for something that would help her. A passage from her book had flashed through his mind. As much as he learned some of her commands hadn’t worked during the ambush, he knew some of the core settings were still within her. There was no getting rid of those. And no matter how much he hated to think about triggering her in any way, he knew this might just work in her favor. He just hoped that it wouldn’t pull her too far in that he couldn’t get her out.

Without missing a beat, Bucky continued. “Proves she’d never come willingly to be used for your simple pleasures.”

The moment the words filled the air, that pulled Y/N in deeper to the memories that she had been currently revisiting. And with that memory came a command that had never been rewritten. One that she just needed to be reminded of.

Rumlow's thumb and finger grabbed her chin roughly and lifted it, forcing her to look up into his eyes. A small tick of a smirk pulled at his lips as he saw the familiarity of nothingness in her eyes. "She does have a pretty face. No wonder her missions are always successful.

"Careful Rumlow." Pierce's voice filled the air. His attention on the paperwork on the desk off to the side. "Unlike the others, this one is allowed to fight back. You won't be able to get your dick wet before she goes back to her handler."

"Shame." There was disappointment lacing his words. "I would have loved a little pleasure before the mission with Rogers." His thumb eased pressure against her chin before running it along her bottom lip.

Her hands twitched at her sides. Almost fighting the need to connect her fist to his face. The echo of her programming and Handler's voice playing in her mind. “An asset such as yourself will never be used for simple pleasures. Anyone who tries to take that pleasure for the sake of anything other than the mission at hand should be slain without question. They’ll jeopardize the mission if they try.”

“Phantom.” Pierce said never taking his eyes off of the paper in his hand. Her eyes shot towards the man even though she still couldn’t turn her head with Rumlow’s hold. “Go easy on him. He doesn’t know any better.”

The moment she saw the slightest nod of his head, her hand was wrapped around Rumlow’s wrist and twisted his arm before flipping him on his back. Shock filled Rumlows face as he tried to counter but was met with a blow to the groin before the same combat boot fit snugly against his neck, keeping him pinned to the ground. She would have killed him if her original handler hadn’t come into the room and stopped her moments later.

When the memory cleared her mind, her eyes focused on Strucker. A smirk pulled at his lips seeing the way they had focused on him. But unlike the vacant expression he had seen moments ago, there was a fire burning within her eyes.

The moment he blinked, Y/N had her hand wrapped around his wrist and twisting quickly. In the same moment, she was pulling her hidden blade and throwing it directly into the eye of the nearest Hydra soldier beside them. And that was when the others began taking action along with her.

Arrows and bullets flew through the air and occasionally in the corner of her eyes, she could see Steve’s shield making its way across the room. She even caught glimpses of Bucky making sure she was clear from anyone else coming at her. But no matter what was going on around her, her focus had solely been on Strucker.

It was obvious Strucker was no stranger to combat. She could see it within his movements. After she had twisted his wrist to break free from his hold, he had been countering her attacks. He had studied her movements long before this. Long before she was ever brought to him. But in comparison to her, he was hardly struggling to keep up.

She didn’t care though. It may have been the commands threaded through her brain that kept her going, but she was fueled by all the pent up anger she had within her. Everything that she was forced to endure by the hands of someone else fanned those flames that burned within her. And nothing was going to stop her until his heart stopped beating.

The voices and sounds around her had meant nothing to her. Her tunnel vision only led to Strucker. When she said she wanted to make sure this ended here, she knew it would begin with Strucker and she wasn’t going to allow him to leave the building alive.

While a part of her wanted to just let loose on him and take out all that anger on him, she knew he was expecting that. She knew that he could use her rage to his advantage and take the upper hand. She refused to allow herself to be stuck within his grasp again. Instead, she was setting up the trap and Strucker just needed to take bait.

While she may have been meeting him strike for strike, her efforts were a lot less than his. His need to have the upper hand stronger than the rationality that she was someone who made plans on the spot. She needed him exhausted. She needed him to be beaten down enough that once he realized that she was toying with him, it’d be too late.

“You’re doing all of this for what?” Strucker asked as he blocked her fist as it came towards him. “Freedom? It’s something you’ll never have. Not with everything locked within your brain.”

“Freedom.” She scoffed as she pushed him back hard enough to give her space. “You’re right. There is none when you’ve been turned into a weapon. But I’ll get as close to it as I can. Starting with killing you.”

And when the two met once more, Y/N had blades in her hand. Ones that had been tucked into the sleeves of her tactical suit. Ones that Strucker hadn’t seen coming. And while he tried to block, she was quicker.

Each maneuver he attempted to evade her blades, ended up with him getting nicked in all the places she was strategically aiming for. And when she had Strucker exactly where she wanted him, the blade pierced his chest. It had been a direct hit into his heart just as she had always been trained for. One hit and she could see life begin to drain from his eyes.

“Freedom may never be in the cards for me. But I’ll fight like hell to make sure no one goes through what I did.” There was a satisfaction that filled her as she watched his last breath leave his lips.

She had killed plenty with this close proximity. But there was something about watching Strucker die at her hands that made this all the more personal. She wrapped her hand around the handle of the blade and something within her snapped.

She had pulled the blade out of his chest before quickly forcing it back in. It still landed in a way she knew had hit his heart once more. But it wasn’t enough for her. She repeated the action again and again. With each time the blade was forced into his chest, it still hadn’t felt like enough.

Bucky called out to her, but her mind refused to register it. Her mind was a mess of emotions and all it could focus on was continuing to stab the body in front of her. She had lost count of how many times she had repeated the motion. Lost count of the amount of times she either hit the same initial wound, or made new ones into his chest. It wasn’t long after that she felt vibranium wrap around her and pull her away.

“He’s gone.” Bucky said calmly, trying to reassure her. “It’s over.”

He felt her still for a brief moment before her elbow met his stomach, causing him to release her. His eyes widened as she took several steps away from him. A heart beat later, Bucky was blocking the blade that came towards him. While he should have been worried, he saw the look in her eyes. The rage he saw within them hadn’t left yet.

Bucky easily maneuvered the blade out of her hand and tossed it off to the side. If she needed to work out the rage, he’d let her do it. While he didn’t want to fight her again, he knew she needed an outlet. Killing Strucker barely made a dent in what she must have been feeling. And when she came at him with her fists, he was ready for it.

Her moves were sloppy. Unlike earlier with her planned movements, the rage within her was only seeking to harm in some form or another. There wasn’t a care with how she tried, she just needed to draw blood. It was how Bucky was able to keep her focus on him.

He heard the other’s rushing to their side. Clint and Sam were behind Y/N and Bucky could see Clint take a step towards her. They weren’t sure what was going on with Y/N and they wanted to stop her before anything happened.

“Don’t.” Bucky said as he blocked another of her hits.” She’s okay. She just needs to work it out of her system.”

When Y/N attempted another hit, Bucky had been able to dodge it before getting a hold of her arms. It was to get her to stop her movements. To stop going blindly at this.

“Look at me.” He said as she attempted to get out of his hold. His voice remained calm. “It’s me. There’s no other threat.”

At first, her eyes lifted to his but she hadn’t seen him. Her brain still had wires crossed and she couldn’t focus on him. But she had heard his voice. The break in the sea of rage she felt. And as her fists hit against his chest, the first emotion other than rage hit her.

Her fists continued to hit at his chest, but with each hit they lessened in strength. As they lessened, Bucky could see the way her bottom lip trembled. He knew that the rage that had been consuming her was leaving her body.

“It’s just us.” Bucky promised as his hold on her loosened, before rubbing his hands along her arm. He watched as tears welled up and small sob passed her lips. “If you still need to let it out, do it. But know you’re still safe with me. With us.” He watched as her eyes flicked over to others before they moved back to him, finally taking him in. “I promise it’s over.”

She began shaking her head quickly, taking several steps back from him. Her eyes stayed on his. “It’s never going to be over.”

Bucky hadn’t missed the way her eyes were now dimmed in comparison to the fire he saw within them when she first joined them earlier. The determination for this to be over and done with had fueled those flames. Now that she was currently covered in Strucker’s blood, he could see that fire was being extinguished.

“We’ll do our best to make sure it’s over.” Bucky said, taking a step closer to her, but she took a step back as he did. His face fell before making sure his feet were planted on the ground.

Y/N was processing everything and needed some resemblance of space. That was her way of asking for it. There were several things going through her mind and the simple statement of this whole thing being over didn’t sit well with her. There were too many things that were left open.

They had all once believed that it was over. That there would be nothing left. They believed Hydra was gone and they had been clipping every weed they believed was growing. They believed none of the smaller cells had grown larger after clipping them. Yet here they were and she was tangled within those growing weeds.

“They keep coming back.” Her voice broke towards the end. They had all heard it and she hadn’t missed their reactions to her words.

For every version of her they saw and faced, this was something she was one hundred percent certain they’d never seen this side of her. The broken and afraid version of herself. The emotions she hardly felt and couldn’t even remember the last time she had felt as she did now.

“He was right.” Her eyes moved between the men that stood in front of her. “It will never be over as long as I can be used as a weapon.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m better off locked-”

“No.” Bucky said, shaking his head. He risked taking another step closer towards her. She hadn’t moved. “We can make sure that would never happen again.“ He didn’t want her thinking she needed to be locked away. He didn’t want her to feel as if she couldn’t have the freedom that she was seeking.

“You shouldn’t make those kinds of promises.” She wiped at the tears falling down her cheeks.

Promises to keep her safe weren’t something she needed or wanted to hear. If anything, it had been a low blow for her to even begin to say what she had been thinking. But it seemed Bucky caught on to the meaning pretty quickly without even needing to say more. She could see within his facial features.

He shook his head slightly. “I’m not going to break this one.” He took another step towards her and once again she took another one back. “I will do everything I can to make sure you will never be used that way again.”

As he took a final step towards her, that dimming fire he’d been watching within her eyes had been snuffed out. There was no light within them. It wasn’t replaced by coldness or anger. Nor had fear grown with his words. All he could see within them was emptiness. He watched as she barely gave a nod of her head before she turned and walked away from them.

_____

Several hours later, Y/N kept her arms wrapped around herself as Bucky led her towards his room. There was a time where she had the pathway memorized. That if she ever needed to find his room with her eyes closed, she could find it easily. But now? It felt like a lifetime ago that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to find it now.

After each of the teams returned back to the compound, she had felt suffocated by the amount of people that were wanting to talk with her. The debrief had almost felt like an interrogation and she hated every moment of it. Her brief relief of it all was when she got to clean herself up away from everyone.

What made it worse was the looks Clint and Steve kept giving her at any point. The looks that told her they were waiting for the right opportunity to keep asking her if she was okay. As if they were waiting for the moment that she would break completely. Waiting to help pick up the pieces of the mess that was bound to happen.

If it hadn’t been for Bucky’s soft ‘Will you come with me?’, she was sure she would have snapped. She was sure she would have taken it out on one of them and wouldn’t have batted an eye when she left their ass on the ground as she walked away.

It was safe to say that part of her was on edge. Even as she stepped into Bucky’s room and he closed the door behind them, she didn’t feel at ease. Her eyes scanned the room and there was a part of her that hated how she was currently feeling while standing there.

Nothing had changed since she left. Yet everything almost felt unfamiliar to her. These walls had once become a safe haven to her and now, she wasn’t sure. Her fingers had itched to reach out and touch things. Things that her memories were telling her that was okay to do. But did she now have a right to?

Bucky watched her as he leaned against the back of the door. He watched as her eyes moved from one place to another, taking everything in. He noticed the way she held herself as she did. She wasn’t relaxed in the slightest. It reminded him of the first time she had stepped into his room.

The difference between then and now was that she was carrying herself differently. The attitude she had the first time she had come into his room almost made him want to toss her out and have FRIDAY make it so she couldn’t even step by the door without it locking loudly. Now, she was a shell of herself that didn’t trust anything or anyone.

He sighed softly and it caused her to look towards him. “You’re safe here, you know.”

“Am I?” Her words sounded lifeless. “I-” She stopped herself and bit on the inside of her lips.

Pushing away from the door, Bucky moved towards the bed and sat down at the edge of it. “You used to feel safe here. Once we actually became friends, you used to find your way in here after missions. You’d sit right here,” He motioned to the space next to him. “And we’d talk about whatever it was we wanted to.”

She nodded her head but none of the tension left her body. “I know. I just don’t understand why you’d want me here now.”

“For one you were about to knock Steve on his ass.” A small smile pulled at his lips and he watched her relax a little bit. “I figured you’d want a moment without the whole team practically invading your space.”

That allowed her to ease her hold on herself. A sigh passed her lips as she began looking around the room once more. “I’m not used to it anymore. I forgot what it’s like for everyone to care.”

“They’ve been looking for you for over two years.” He noted with a nod of his head. “I don’t expect them to ease up for a while.”

They. For some reason that single word made her heart ache. It wasn’t ‘we’. Part of her knew that Bucky probably hadn’t been reaching out for her to come back. She knew that. She saw the messages in the safe houses from everyone but him. But he had started looking for her at some point. Even Clint had mentioned that with her bike. Bucky brought it back for her. He knew there was a chance she was coming back.

There was no question that things were different. Her truth was out and Bucky knew she was a part of Hydra. He had been there for her when she woke up in one of the spare rooms and didn’t leave her until they got to the interrogation room. It was easy to fall into place with him during the mission. They had kissed and the familiarity and hunger within it felt like it was a start to mending things.

So why did her body act as if it was bracing for a goodbye?

“I can practically see the wheels turning in your mind.” He said after a moment of watching her. When she didn’t say anything in response, he began to worry. “Please, say something. Anything...”

He knew she wasn’t pulled into some memory. She was moving around, in a small radius at that, and looking around at things. But she was lost in her thoughts and he could see that her eyes hadn’t drifted off to somewhere else. They may still hold the emptiness he saw earlier, but she was still there with him.

He watched as she looked over at him. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she closed it again. She ran a hand along her face and Bucky could see she was having trouble with whatever she was trying to say.

Standing, Bucky closed the distance between them and placed his hands gently on her arms, trying to bring her some comfort. “You can say anything you need to. First thing that comes to mind.”

“Do you even want me here?” She asked after a few seconds. His shocked expression told her he hadn’t been expecting her to say.

“I am so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t.” He said as he brought his right hand up to her cheek. “Before the last twenty four hours, the last few things I said to you were out of anger and hurt. My apology should have been the first thing I said once we got you back.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to apologize for a reaction that anyone else would have given.”

“But I never should have made you leave.” He sighed softly. “Yes, I needed time. I needed space to process it all. I couldn’t bring myself to just easily forgive you. The others didn’t believe it. From the moment I told them, they pieced together a whole list why you weren’t a danger to us and hadn’t been for a while.” He shook his head. “But I was stubborn and I didn’t see it the same way they did.”

Her eyes met his. “Can I ask when it changed for you?”

There was a small tug at the corner of his lips. “After a stakeout with Sam.”

His words caused a small smile to pull at her lips at his words. “Not the same?”

“No, not at all.” He brushed his knuckles along her cheek and she leaned into it. “That was when I realized I was missing you. By the next mission, I knew I wanted to start helping to look for you. But by then, you hadn’t been at a safehouse for over six months. I even had a horribly rehearsed apology for when I did find you.” Her eyebrow raised but he continued. “I would have told you how sorry I was for treating you the way I did. That I should have taken your offer of space instead of forcing you to leave, on your birthday of all days. That I am sorry for digging into your past instead of just coming to you and asking you. I’m sure I still would have been angry, but I wouldn’t have made the huge mistake of letting you go. And because of that mistake you found yourself in a situation you couldn’t escape from.”

“Bucky,” She placed her hand on top of his. “What happened out there was bound to happen. If not out there, it would have been while here or on a mission. I am a weapon who doesn't have their free will. I am a piece of property that-”

“You aren't.” He cut her off. “Not any more. You belong to yourself. No one else is going to take that away from you.” His eyes met hers and he could see the uncertainty within them. “I will do everything I can to make sure you never have to worry about that again. The others will help, you know that right?”

The words settled over her for a few moments before she nodded her head. Yes she knew they would do everything they could to help keep her from being used as she had. But the same thoughts played through her mind. There would always be others who would try.

Others that would try to continue the work of Hydra in some form or another. And if she was being honest with herself, there was the possibility they would come for her. How many times would the team be willing to keep her from being captured. How many times until they’d give up entirely and not want her there.

“There is another way.” Bucky said, pulling her from her thoughts.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“You’re worried about several factors.” He noted. “I’ve been where you’ve been. You’re already thinking about how much danger you’ll put the rest of us in. Or how many times it will take until we decide it’s too much.” He watched as her shoulders fell slightly. “But there is another way we can do this to make sure you feel as free as you need to feel.”

“How?” She asked curiously. “It's not like-” She stopped herself as she realized what he meant. “Would they even want to help me?”

“I’m sure they would.” It was with those words Bucky noticed the briefest spark return in her eyes. It was something she could hold onto. A promise that she could be rid of the side of her that could easily be controlled. “I’ll get in contact with T’Challa and see what we can do.”

“Thank you.” She said with a small nod. She wasn’t even sure what else she could say besides that. As much as she wanted to begin to hope that this would really be the end of it all, she knew there was a possibility that they could be turned down. And getting her hopes up to be let down was the last thing she wanted to do.

“It's the least I can do.” He said, giving her a small smile.

She sighed softly. There was one more thing weighing on her mind. “Where does this leave us? We were in a moment earlier and I’m not expecting things to go back to the way they were.”

He nodded his head. She had a point. As easy and comfortable as it has been since she was back to just wanting to be near her like this, he knew it was going to be different in more ways than one.

“One day at a time.” He promised. “If we find that this isn’t what we want anymore, then we’ll be okay. But if this is something we want to try, it will be like a fresh start. Everything is out on the table. We’ll make it work.” A small chuckle passed his lips as a thought crossed his mind. He took a step back and held out his right hand towards her. “I’m James.”

She laughed as she began to bring her hand up to place in his. But she stopped just before her hand met his. Reality crashing within her mind. Her eyes met his as she placed her hand in his. “I don’t know who I am. I’ve gone by so many names that I don’t know which is the right one to give.”

The amusement that had been on his face had been replaced by a small reassuring smile. “I’ll help you figure that out. Whoever or whatever you want to be, I’ll be there with you while you learn who you are.”

While his words had been comforting that this was her chance of starting over, there was something deep within her that told her it wasn’t going to be that easy. How could she choose what to become when she only knew death and destruction for a majority of her life?

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loveesiren · 6 months ago

Text

𝔊𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔱

Rafe Cameron x Reader

a/n: I found a fic a few years ago that I really loved that was similar to this but I can't find the fic now so credits to whoever wrote it first and inspired me!

this is just a short drabble and i don't want to give it away so...deal with no warnings lmfao

wc: 484

Rafe’s breathing hitched as he leaned over the table, inhaling another line of cocaine His shoulders tensed, his mind swimming in a haze of euphoria and longing. He felt your touch—cool and ethereal—your fingernails lightly grazing his bare back.

“You can’t keep doing this, Rafael,” you murmured, your voice a delicate melody that pulled him from the edge of oblivion. A smirk played on your lips, but your eyes held a sadness that mirrored his own.

He turned to you, his pupils blown wide, his hand trembling as he cupped your cheek. “I don’t care,” he whispered, his voice raw. “Every time I see you, it’s like I’m alive again. You’re more beautiful than anything I’ve ever known.”

His lips found yours, soft and cold, and for a moment, he didn’t feel broken. The warmth that spread through his body was a cruel contrast to the chill of your skin beneath his trembling hand.

“I missed you,” he said, his voice cracking as he pressed you back onto the bed. His lips trailed over your neck, down to your collarbone, each kiss a desperate plea. “Every... fucking... inch of you.” His words were punctuated by shaky breaths, his devotion etched into every touch.

“I miss you too,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hands trembled as they found his hair, threading through it like you used to. “I miss waking up next to you, hearing your heartbeat. I miss... everything.”

Rafe froze, lifting his head to meet your gaze. His blue eyes were glassy, searching yours for something that wasn’t there anymore. “Stay tonight,” he begged, his voice breaking on the last word.

You cupped his face with hands that no longer carried warmth. “You know I can’t, baby,” you said softly, your words a knife to his fragile heart. “This... it’s not real.”

“It’s real to me!” he snapped, his voice rising, his fists clenching the sheets beneath you. “You’re real to me, and I don’t care what anyone says. I love you—God, I love you so much.” His forehead fell against yours, his tears mixing with the faint scent of you that still haunted his senses.

“I love you too, Rafael,” you said, your voice breaking as you leaned up to press a final, lingering kiss to his lips. “Always.”

When the kiss ended, you were gone. Like every other night, you slipped away, leaving him alone with the ghosts of his memories and the ache in his chest that never dulled.

Rafe sat in the empty room, his body shaking, his hands gripping the sheets where your outline had been. His breath came in ragged gasps as the truth clawed at him, relentless and cruel. You weren’t here.

You would never be here again.

And no matter how many lines he sniffed or how many prayers he whispered into the dark, the dead couldn’t come back to life.

Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001 @seojunandsoju @niktwazny303 @jjmaybankmylovee @simp4f1 @faephoria @toftomgmf @bunnykoo901 @adarkskinarchives @millietozier @babybreadamericano @hwaaholic @dilfluvr4evr @wtfdudesblog @harrys-housewife @sereneera @lizziesangel @akobx @kieeslove @serrendiipty @esquivelbianca @agnxstic @zinwaldorf

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #obx #outer banks #obx fandom #rafe outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe obx

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whatever-lmaoo · 10 months ago

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Sweet Life Of Mine

Summary: Life works in mysterious ways and Bucky would go through it all again if it meant he’d get to experience the rest of it with you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x curvy!reader

CW: fluff, a bit of teasing, flashbacks are italicized and thoughts are in bold and italicized[2.4k]

A/N: As always the cute line dividers were made by @firefly-graphics 🌸 I’ve decided to turn this into a two-parter 🙂‍↔️ Special recognition to @buckys-wintersoldier without her encouragement I probably would’ve trashed this fic early on in the process😂 and @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me yap and helping me come up with ideas when I would get stuck😍I am so thankful for both of them and y’all should check out their works because they are wonderful!!!💖 With that being said this fic has grown on me a lot and I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I do🥹 Dialogue is not my strong suite so I apologize if any of the lines sound corny🤧 I don’t give anyone permission to copy, translate or repost my works on here or other sites😊 Comments and constructive feedback is always appreciated!!

Bucky absentmindedly breaks down the last few cardboard boxes, taking in your newly furnished living room. Photos of you and your respective families are scattered along the walls and on top of your antique furniture. Plants strategically placed around the room and the gorgeous lamps you picked out created a welcoming atmosphere.

He throws the last box on top of his makeshift pile, wondering how all of the broken roads of his life led him to this moment, how he got his dream girl, a woman who accepted him with his baggage and loved the parts of him that he deemed unpleasant, physically and mentally. It all felt so surreal to him.

As the time grew closer for the wedding to start, Bucky couldn’t help but pace his dressing room floor. He occasionally looked in the mirror to fix his hair or wipe his face with another paper towel before throwing it away in the almost-filled trash can. He felt like his throat was constricted and began fidgeting with his tie. Eventually, he gave up and hunched over a table, trying to remind himself that everything was okay.

The weight of a hand rubbing his back, slowly grounded him for a moment. Steve’s voice sounded muffled in his ears but grew clearer as Bucky took in deeper breaths and continued to focus on the circular motion of Steve’s movements. “Buck, do you want me to get her for you?” The small “please” he lets out is all it takes for Steve to rush to your room.

Bucky stood up and grabbed a bottle of water from on top of a dresser. He was almost finished with it when a soft knock caught his attention.

“Baby?” You say opening the door slightly and sticking your hand through the gap. A clammy palm rests on yours as you massage his knuckles with your thumb, imprinting your touch in his mind, a silent reminder that you’ll always be there when he needs you.

“You ready to be stuck with me for life, Hotshot?” You tease, grinning as you hear him let out a quiet laugh.

"I should be asking you that, Gorgeous,” he breathes. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for something than I am at the thought of marrying you. I’m just worried that I’ll somehow mess this up or this is one big dream. I’m afraid that at any second I’ll wake up in a cold sweat and find myself sitting on that old apartment floor, where instead of hearing that lovely voice of yours, it’ll be the older lady next door yelling because she muted her TV again or the loud honks from angry New Yorkers." He rests his head against the door and clutches the doorknob with his metal hand.

“Can you feel that, Bubba?” you say, placing his hand on your chest, feeling the rapid rhythm of your heart beating against his fingertips. “My heart beats like this when I see or listen to you. When I think about being able to wear your ring on my finger, taking your last name, and one day being the mother of your children. My heart beats for you, Bucky, and that's one of the realest feelings I've ever experienced.”One thing Bucky loves about you is you’ve never judged him for expressing his fears, and you’re always there to support him when his insecurities eat away at his progress.

He can hear Natasha's distant voice calling for you and smiles softly.

“I’ve got to head back for last-minute touch-ups, but I’ll see you at the end of the aisle, right?” You reach for his hand on your chest, gently kissing his palm before reconnecting your hands together.

“I’ll be there waiting for you. I love you, Gorgeous.” He squeezes your hand, running his thumb over your fingers.

“I love you too, Hotshot.” And with that, you slip your hand from his loose grip and through the door, your hurried steps echoing in the hall. Steve enters a moment later, noticing that the previous tension in Bucky’s body has almost completely disappeared.

“Let’s go make you a married man, Buck.”

“What are we waiting for, punk,” Bucky says, slapping him on the back playfully, laughing with each other as they walk out of the room, ready to make his dreams come true.

“Hey Gorgeous, I’ve got a question for you.” Bucky groans out as he starts straightening up his mess.

“Ask away, Hotshot.” You utter, your voice resounding slightly in the foyer as you hang up a picture of the two of you on your wedding night.

Humming along to the soft music from the living room while admiring how Bucky’s skin glowed under the golden hues from the sparklers your friends and family surrounded the two of you with. You can still feel the love radiating from him just by looking at his tender smile and remembering how his deep blue eyes twinkled with fondness as he gazed at you with his arms wrapped around your waist.

“How do you feel about going on a date tomorrow?” You smile at the steady sound of footsteps approaching you. A pair of hands enclose your wide hips, and Bucky’s chin rests on your shoulder as he inhales the pleasant scent of your perfume.

“I would love to go on a date with you, Bubs.” The warmth of his breath sends a shiver through your body, and you can feel your cheeks heating up as he places a sweet kiss below your ear.

“Where are you going to take me?” You ask, grabbing his hands and placing them on your plush belly, leaning back in his embrace.

“Let’s see, I could take you to the movies, an amusement park, or maybe a pumpkin patch. The possibilities are endless.” You hear his grin before you see it, turning your head towards him.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” A pout forms on your face, and you twist in his arms as he straightens up, clasping your hands together behind his neck.

“You would be correct, Gorgeous,” he says, smirking and pecking your lips. You hope he didn’t notice the slight widening of your eyes as an idea popped into your head.

“How am I supposed to know what to wear if I don’t know where we’re going?” You ask sweetly, letting your fingertips play with the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

“I’ll pick out something for you.” Your head tilts and eyebrows raise in amusement.

“You…are going to choose what I wear?” Bucky rolls his eyes and licks his lower lip in thought.

“Are you questioning my fashion sense, Doll? If I remember correctly, you wear my clothes more than I do.” His hands slip down to the top of your ass drawing your body in even closer, and you roll your eyes this time.

“You’ve never put together an outfit for me before, and I like wearing your clothes because they’re comfortable and smell like you.”

“Don’t want that pretty little head of yours worrying about a thing tomorrow. And I’m not complaining; they look better on you than on me. You make anything you wear look amazing, especially when it's in white.” A warm smile is plastered across his face, his eyes darting up to the photo behind you, another memory from the best day of his life playing in his mind like an old film.

“Do I look alright? Am I beginning to smell?” Bucky questions Steve and Sam as he tries to smoothen out his already-perfect suit jacket. The chattering from the guests did little to calm his nerves.

“You’re lookin’ snazzy, Bucknasty,” Sam says, giving Bucky a lighthearted slap on his ass.

"You look great, Buck." Steve wraps his arms around Bucky, bringing him into a tight hug. "I'm proud of you, man." He whispers, giving Bucky a brotherly kiss on the side of his head and a pat on his back as he lets go. He thanks the both of them before turning back around, eyes scanning the crowd as he tries to grasp the idea that all of these people are there for the both of you.

Bucky couldn't take his eyes off the door as the orchestra played the familiar tune of the song you chose for your entrance. After all the practices and months spent planning for this moment, nothing could prepare him for the overwhelming feeling he got when the ushers revealed your figure standing at the opposite end of him.

His bottom lip quivered, and he began to blink rapidly, but his gaze never strayed away from you. The dress you picked was beautiful, the shade of white complementing your complexion, and the way it hugged you in all the right places made you look like a goddess in his eyes.

He hadn't realized he was crying until you cupped his damp cheek in your palm, gently wiping away his tears while your own began to well in your eyes.

"Hi," you whispered through your watery smile, and it took everything in him not to crash his lips against yours.

You lightly glide your fingers down the side of his face, beaming up at him, already knowing where his train of thought took him. Gently tapping the side of his glasses, you watch as he slowly comes back to you, the affection in his eyes creating a warmth inside you that only he can ignite.

You wrap your arms around his midsection, and he kisses your temple before resting his cheek on top of your head, holding you against his body a little tighter.

“I think I look good in white too.” You say casually, a giggle escaping the two of you.

“Oh, yeah?” He says, a crooked smirk forming on his face, and you pull away slightly. A smirk of your own playing on your lips as you lean up next to his ear.

“So much so that I could be convinced to recreate the boudoir photos I gave you.” You take his earlobe between your teeth, pulling slightly, a low growl rumbles in his chest, and you do your best to keep your thighs from clenching. Bucky’s hands cup your ass as he lifts you in his arms.

“I’m sure it won’t take much to persuade you, pretty girl.” You roll your eyes at his cockiness, causing him to chuckle as he connects your lips, blindly making his way to your bedroom.

You felt a sense of tranquility despite the chilly breeze nipping at your exposed skin as you strolled through the desolate yet animated park. The sound of leaves rustling in the wind and the soft chirping of crickets fill your ears, while you watch the beautiful glow of fireflies encircling the bushes lining the pathway.

You admire the way the clear water of the pond shimmers softly in the moonlight as you take a seat on your favorite bench. Your eyes close and the tension in your body slowly fades as you allow yourself to enjoy Mother Nature and the safe feeling she provides you.

The hairs on your arms stand up as an unsettling feeling washes over you, and the squelching of grass confirms your fears of not being alone. You open your eyes, turning your head, searching for the source that disturbed your peace. Your eyes land on a figure standing at the edge of the pond.

He must have felt your stare because the next thing you know, a pair of striking blue eyes connects with yours. He watches you curiously as you assess whether he's a threat, and a ghost of a smile crosses his lips when he notices the slight drop in your shoulders before turning his gaze back to the still water.

Your lip rolls between your teeth as you consider leaving. You stand and start to walk away, but then you hear the stranger speak.

“You don’t have to leave.” He says, and you turn around after a lengthy moment of stillness, wondering if you should trust him. You observe his relaxed stance, face devoid of malice, but it's his captivating eyes that draw you in and tug at your heartstrings.

There was a silent plea within them, a look you've grown used to seeing in the mirror over the years. Hoping for someone to fill the kind of emptiness that comes with having experienced too much, even if only for a short while.

You stand in silence as a family of ducks begins to swim by. A twinge of pain surges through your chests, as you both watch the last one struggle to keep up, feeling like Mother Nature is reminding you that you were once in similar positions.

The wind grows colder, causing you to cross your arms in an attempt to conserve body heat. He notices this and starts to rid himself of his leather jacket.

“What are you doing?” You squeak out, taking a step back.

“Relax, you’re obviously cold and I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I let you stand there shivering.” You go to protest but he’s already wrapping his jacket around your arms.

“I’m not supposed to take things from strangers.” You exclaim, although, grateful for the makeshift shield against the cool weather.

“What are you? Ten? Would you feel better if I gave you my name?” He mocks and your eyes roll.

It’s always the pretty ones that are annoying.

“Oh, so you think I’m pretty?” He says, your eyes grow wide and your mouth gapes open.

I didn't mean to say that out loud.

“Fuck off. I think you’re annoying too.” He barks out a laugh at that, startling you slightly, you turn your head away from him feeling a small grin make its way to the surface.

“The name’s James, but you can call me Bucky, or pretty if that’s what you want.” He winks and you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you tell him your name.

“Gorgeous name for an even more gorgeous girl,” he pauses as his phone goes off and a deep sigh leaves his lips when he checks the notification.

“I hate to depart like this, but duty calls.” He says backing away slowly, waving his phone in his hand. You go to give him his jacket, but he starts making a disapproving noise.

“I’m not supposed to take things from strangers, Gorgeous.” A sly smirk forms on his face before he spins around, gradually disappearing from your line of sight.

You shake your head, smiling to yourself, pulling the leather around you tighter as you begin to head back to your car, wondering if you’ll ever run into him again.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes #my writings🌸

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bellaireland1981 · 1 year ago

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Babymoon

Summary: You and your husband take a quick beach vacation before becoming a family of three.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female! Reader

Warnings: Illusions to smut, heavy making out, pregnancy, fluff, Jake being adorable. UNDER 18 DNI

Word Count: 2231 (look at me keeping it quick!)

A/N: Written for @thedroneranger 's Pick Your Poison writing challenge. Inspiration for the fic was Sex on the Beach As always, I do not own the Top Gun Maverick characters but all OCs and Reader insert concepts are my own and storylines are mine. I do not give permission for my work to be translated, copied, reposted to other sites, used in AI generators and sold on any platforms.

Masterlist

“Angel, are you sure you’re not overdoing it?” Jake asked as the two of you made your way down to the beach from your hotel room. “We can relax in the room for a bit or sit by the pool if that’s better…”

At 7 months pregnant, you were getting close to the point of no travel and Jake had surprised you with a last minute “babymoon” down to Mexico. He wanted the two of you to have one last opportunity to be spontaneous and fly off for a romantic getaway before you become parents.

“Jake, I love you, Stud…” You said, looking up at your husband, a coy smile on your face, “I promise I’m not overdoing it. I just really want some time on the beach with my sexy husband and baby daddy…maybe some sexy time on the beach with my husband.”

“You’re a menace, Angel.” He chuckled, pausing your walk to the beach to steal a quick kiss. “But anything for my sexy pregnant wife” kissing you again, “Beautiful mother of our daughter.”

“Our daughter is going to have her daddy wrapped around her tiny little finger.” You smirked, as you continued toward the beach.

“Just like her Momma.” He replied, chuckling. “Wouldn’t want it any other way, Angel.”

He led you to a cabana area he’d rented for you for the day. There were beach loungers set up in front, where you could lay in the sun and soak up the warm rays, but there were also loungers in the cabana to allow you to lay down out of the sun and rest without having to leave the beach. It came complete with full food and drink service from the resort. Your amazing and perfect husband had thought of everything.

“Before you get all comfortable out there, darlin’ you need sunscreen.” Jake reminded you.

“Are you worried about me burning…or do you just want a reason to rub your hands all over me in public without the threat of getting arrested?” You teased him.

“A little of both.” He admitted with a smirk, “I’ll always take any excuse to get my hands on my wife, Angel, you know that… it’s why you’re currently pregnant.”

“Does this mean I’ll be spending a lot of time pregnant over the next five to ten years of our marriage?” You laughed.

“I will happily give you as many babies as you want Angel.” He said, pulling you close, one hand naturally finding its home on your swollen belly, the other behind your head, tilting your head back before capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

“Let’s see how things go with our daughter first.” You suggested, “So far, she’s a handful just like her daddy.”

“The morning sickness finally eased up.” He reasoned, “And after several talks recently, she’s no longer using your bladder as a punching bag.”

“True.” You acknowledged, “Now she’s using my kidneys and rib cage for soccer practice and I swear she takes joy in giving me major heartburn.”

“I’ll have another talk with her.” He smiled, “But you’re not fooling me. I see you when you don’t think anyone is watching… or listening. You’re loving every moment, kidney shots and all.”

“I really am.” You sighed happily, rubbing your hand over your belly where your daughter was safely growing and developing. “I can’t even describe the feeling… knowing a part of you and a part of me…growing inside me. Getting to feel her move and being this close to her… knowing that once she’s born, I’ll never be this close to her again… I’ll have to share her, I’ll no longer be able to protect her from the world… It’s an incredible thing.”

“It’s pretty damn amazing from this side of things too, Angel.” He said gently, his hand joining yours on top of your belly, “Watching our little girl grow inside of you, knowing I helped put her there… seeing you literally grow a human, OUR human… protecting her, nourishing her, loving her… it about brings me to my knees. You’re already the most amazing momma in the world, Angel. Our little princess is so lucky she gets to have you as her momma. As for protecting her once she’s on the outside… I have zero doubts you’ll be fierce and badass at that. I’ve seen you in action protecting those you love. She’ll have us, and a squad full of uncles and aunts to keep her safe. Our little girl will be just fine.”

“You’re gonna make me cry.” You sniffled, tears threatening to spill over. “Not like it’s hard to do… it’s kinda low hanging fruit.”

“You said it, Angel.” He laughed, “But you’re adorable when you’re all emotional.”

“I love you, Stud.” You said, snuggling into your husband.

“I love you too, Angel.” He replied, holding you close.

After a moment, once the emotions had calmed down you pulled back a bit, “Can you put sunscreen on me now?”

“Absolutely,” He agreed, grinning, “Let me grab the bottle. Sit down on the lounger and I’ll get you all sorted.”

The two of you spent time laying in the sun, you reading a steamy romance novel, Jake reading an updated manual for new equipment to his jet.

“You know, My Love,” You teased him, “We’re on vacation, you shouldn’t be working.”

“I enjoy learning about my jet, Angel.” He defended himself, “Besides, wouldn’t you rather I know everything there is to know about it so I can be extra safe?”

“You already know that jet down to the last screw.” You laughed, “And I love that you’re thorough, Babe… it makes it a little easier to send you off on missions and deployments because you tackle those the same as your jet and you learn every detail given to you. I love that about you.”

“I will always do everything in my power and control to come home to you and our little girl.” He promised.

“I know.” You smiled, “And I know that you have amazing squadmates who have your back.”

“They’re alright.” He laughed playfully. Truth was, you knew he loved all of the Daggers and would do anything for them. He’d already been best friends with Javy coming into the Uranium mission that had formed the Daggers, but afterwards he and Bradley had formed an unbreakable bond and a strong friendship. Bradley had even asked Jake to be his best man in his wedding the month before. “Feel like getting in the water?”

“I could cool off.” You replied, “Going to need help getting up though.”

He set his manual down under his towel so it wouldn’t blow away and reached for your book so he could set it next to his before reaching out to lift you up. You swayed slightly into him, the change in position causing you to feel slightly lightheaded.

“Easy does it, Angel.” He said, “Are you ok? Do you need to go inside to rest for a bit?”

“No, I’m ok.” You replied, “I just stood too fast. Let’s go into the water, then we can cuddle in the cabana for a bit.”

“Cuddle?” You asked, smirking.

“Behave.” He chuckled, playfully swatting your butt.

You laughed, taking his hand and the two of you walked to the water. There were some waves but the surf wasn’t overly active. Jake still made sure to keep you close and his hands on you at all times while you were both in the water. You waded out until you were mostly past the break, the water to your chest, but barely above Jake’s belly. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in as close as possible with your very pregnant belly between you.

You leaned up on your tiptoes, your arms around his neck, pulling him down so you could kiss him. You didn’t hesitate to swipe your tongue over the seam of his lips, seeking entrance into his mouth. His own tongue came out to meet yours, the kiss deepening. He let his hands wander down to your butt, rubbing over your bikini clad cheeks.

“What are your thoughts on sex on the beach, Angel?” Jake asked, his head dipping down to kiss over your neck and shoulder.

“Oh my God.. I MISS those amazing little cocktails.” You sighed, “Penny makes the BEST Sex on the Beaches.”

“Angel, I was talking about literal sex on the beach.” He groaned, still trailing kisses over your collarbone, tasting the salt from the ocean water.

“Pretty sure THAT is how I ended up pregnant, Stud.” You teased him.

“The night after the bonfire?” He asked, lifting his head to look at you, a smirk playing on his lips, “Seriously?”

“The timing is perfect.” You shrugged, “Lord knows I DRANK enough of those sneaky little cocktails that night…”

“I remember.” He said, his voice going husky, dropping deeper, “You suggested we do an experiment to see if actual sex on the beach was as good as the drink.”

“Well, it looks like it exceeded expectations.” You giggled, pulling his head down to kiss him.

“So, how about round two?” He asked, his hands wandering back down to your butt.

“I’m way too pregnant to end up with sand in unfortunate places, so how about sex in a cabana?” You compromised, smirking.

“I think it’s time to head back to shore, Angel.” He replied, scooping you up bridal style and carrying you in towards the shore.

“Jake!” You squealed, “Put me down! I am way too heavy!”

“Angel, I can handle carrying my girls just fine.” He promised, “I would never let anything happen to either of you.”

“Such a softy.” You said, letting your fingers run over the wet hair at the nape of his neck.

“Don’t let that get out.” He teased, “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“The gig is up, Babe.” You laughed, “Everyone knows you’re not really an asshole. As soon as they saw you with Ruben’s kids it was all over.”

He carried you out of the water and over the sand back to the cabana before setting you back on your feet. It had shades that could be pulled down for privacy and to block out more sun, which Jake took advantage of as soon as you got inside the cabana. There was a large sun lounger that looked more like a bed, in the middle of the cabana with small tables set up on each side. With the shades pulled on the sides and the light weight material used as a curtain in the front of the cabana let down, it gave you a little privacy from prying eyes of other resort guests. It was at least a private beach, only open to those staying at the resort.

“This might have been easier before we were all wet.” You said, winding your arms around his neck as he came back to stand in front of you. “Now our suits are all clingy”

“Hmmm,” He hummed, leaning down to nibble at your jawline before working back towards your ear, whispering “I prefer my wife to be wet and clingy.”

A shiver ran through your whole body, arousal flooding your system, soaking your already wet bikini bottoms.

“Jake” You moaned, trying to push up against him, as much as your very pregnant belly would allow, “I need you to fuck me.”

“Your wish is my command, Angel.” He replied, guiding you back towards the lounger. He untied your bikini top, letting it fall to the floor of the cabana, making sure to block you from view of the outside world. “Fuck, I love your boobs.”

“Thought you were an ass man, Stud.” You smirked, knowing that your husband had been infatuated with your boobs since you’d become pregnant. They had increased two cup sizes by this point in your pregnancy, and you were told they’d get even bigger once you were breastfeeding your daughter. Jake was intrigued by it.

“When it comes to you, Angel there’s not a part of your body that doesn’t get me going.” He admitted, flashing his dimpled smile. He helped you to lay down on the lounger. He made sure you were propped up on the many decorative pillows and comfortable, leaning in for a quick kiss, before running his hands down over you, pausing to rest his hands on and gently kiss your bump, before continuing down, pulling your bikini bottoms off on his way.

The look of pure lust and adoration on your husband’s face was enough to give you confidence in your own body and not give in to the negative thoughts that tried to permeate your brain when you looked in the mirror. Your OB said it was normal as your body was rapidly changing, to have the negative feelings or insecurities but reminded you to be kind to yourself and if the thoughts became too intrusive to let her know so she could set you up with someone to talk to. Jake had been at that appointment and had made it his mission afterwards to make sure he knew how absolutely beautiful he found you and how incredible it was that you were growing an entire human.

“I think you’re overdressed.” You smiled, allowing your eyes to hungrily track over his sun kissed body. “And I believe I was promised Sex on the Beach.”

A/N: There it is! My second ever Jake fic! What do you think??

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#top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #pick your poison #glen powell #bellaireland writes #top gun fan fiction

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bittertasteofhoney · 28 days ago

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Good Day Sunshine | Ch. 11

Hummingbird

Summary: Fate clearly wants you and Joel to be together again but this was not what you had in mind. No matter how careless you were…

SPOILERS IN THE TAGS BELOW

|| angst, jackson!joel, jackson!joel x f!reader, age gap (but legal!), reader is afab, pregnancy ||

Notes: I know this trope is not a lot of people’s preferred flavor. If this isn’t your thing, I just want to say thank you so much for reading this far. I truly appreciate every minute you spent reading my words. The thought blows my mind!!! If you are sticking around, buckle in, babes, because we have so much tension and a healthy dose of smut coming your way. Forever grateful for every single one of you! <3

18+. Read at your own risk. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Minors DO NOT ENGAGE.

The characters, names and characterizations belong to HBO Max and The Last of Us franchise. This work is my creative property and aside from re-blogs and shares, I do not give permission to share or copy my work without permission or consent.

Previous Chapter.

Somehow, a month passed. You let your anger fuel you as you went about everyday life. You no longer hid in the gardens or at home but tried to find a sense of normalcy. Sure, you saw him, which gutted you each time, but you never met his eyes. If you walked by one of his construction sites on a delivery, you turned your face as you passed him poring over plans. If you saw him and Ellie in the mess hall, you walked by to squeeze her shoulder, but never lifted your eyes to meet his.

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet the eyes of the man who walked away from you that easily and for such a stupid reason. But there was also another reason you couldn’t look at him.

It had been a week since the realization hit you head-on while you were sitting on your patio, mindlessly sipping a cup of tea. You were thinking about the last time Joel was here with you.

He walked in through your front door, heated about something while you chopped veggies in your kitchen. He came up behind you and hugged you, burying his face in your hair. You could feel the tension rolling off his body, so you snaked a hand behind his head to twirl your fingers in his curls.

“You doing okay?” He shook his head, still buried in your hair, humming deeply. “Do you want to talk about it?” He shook his head again, and you giggled. “Fine. We’ll talk later, but we have to come up with a way to help you relax.”

His hands slid down your sides and gently cupped your ass. “I have a few ideas.” His gruff voice sent a shiver down your back.

“Oh yeah?” He hummed again from behind you, and you closed your eyes and dropped the knife you were chopping with. You braced yourself on the counter as he gripped your hips and pulled you flush against him. “Joel.”

“What would you say if I told you I’ve been thinking about you bent over this counter all day long?”

You lightly laughed, but it soon turned to breathless panting as he began kneading your ass with his hands. “I would say you should probably focus on building…whatever it is you’re building…”

You could barely think as his hand slid up your back, and he gently pushed you forward. You pressed your ass against him and softly whimpered as you moved it in a slow, circular motion, feeling his growing erection.

He hissed and tutted softly. “We were fixin’ the electrical in that house in the back section of town. It was a goddamn nightmare. I should be offended you didn’t pay attention, but I don’t know a goddamn thing about gardening.”

You dropped your head between your shoulders as he slid a hand to your front and used it to unbutton your shorts and slip under your panties. His fingers slid lower and lower until one began to circle your clit.

“Joel.”

“Yes, darlin’?” You gasped as he pinched it.

“I…I…” He chuckled. The asshole actually chuckled.

“I can’t give you what you want unless you ask for it.” You whimpered again, and he just laughed. So, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

You reached to grip the hand driving you crazy and squeezed until he stopped his ministrations. Confused, he withdrew his hand and stepped back, giving you some space and misinterpreting your action as disinterest.

You spun around slowly until you faced him, gripping his shirt and pulling him to the ground. He did as you directed, following your pushes and pulls, with a befuddled look on his face. “Lay down.”

He raised an eyebrow but did so slowly. You moved to straddle him, still standing, as you removed your shorts, panties and top. He slowly undid his belt and slid his pants down past his knees with a look of reverence in his eyes.

“Darlin’?”

You dropped to your knees and widened your stance to accommodate his hips. “You told me to use my words. Instead, I’m not asking this time.” His eyes grew so dark that they were almost black at this point.

The two of you never broke eye contact. Not when you slid onto his length, when he dug his hands into your hips to control your pace or when he groaned and came much quicker than you. And god, you ate it up. You loved that he was so turned on that he couldn’t keep up with you.

You shivered, remembering the way he made you feel, but you felt your stomach drop.

The two of you were never careful. Clearly. Condoms were never part of the conversation, given how hard they were to procure in the post-outbreak world. Even if you managed to get your hands on a twenty-three-year-old packet, they were rarely effective. And if you happened across a diaphragm, you’d found the golden ticket.

Unfortunately, you had your hands on neither and also didn’t possess enough self-control to attempt the pull-out method, so you and Joel continued to give in to your desires without much thought for the consequences.

The consequences you were currently dealing with as you thought about your period being three weeks late. Sure, it was always irregular due to your inconsistent diet before coming to Jackson, but your tender breasts gave you another puzzle piece. Shockingly, you didn’t feel panic. At least, not much.

It wasn’t easy to get pregnant, to begin with, and a baby in a town as secure as Jackson wasn’t the inconvenience people beyond the fence viewed it as. To a degree, you were happy about it. You’d always imagined a child when you were brave enough to picture life fifty years in the future. And knowing it was Joel’s sent a warm feeling to your chest.

But it also sent you into a state of panic. You got upset any time you thought of how he might react. He seemingly didn’t want to be with you, so why would he want to share a child?

Of course, you couldn’t keep it from him. You had more than a few weeks before you began to show, but once you did, it wouldn’t take long for that man to clock any change in your appearance. He still watched you like a hawk whenever you were in the same room.

You had to tell him. You wanted to. However, you knew he would feel obligated to tie himself to you, and that always gave you pause when you considered starting down his path to break the news.

So, you found yourself knocking on Tommy’s door one evening, twisting your hands across your abdomen as you waited for him to answer the door. It took him a few minutes, and your hands were rubbed raw before the door swung open.

“Sunshine? What can I do for you?” You met his questioning eyes sheepishly.

“Can we talk?”

He nodded and stepped aside so you could enter the house. He led you into the kitchen and pulled out a chair for you to sink into. He sat down opposite of you and patiently waited for you to begin. The more you met his eyes and looked away, the more panicked you felt until finally, your eyes filled with tears, and you leaned forward with your head in your hands.

He shot out of his chair and came to squat before you, rubbing your knee and telling you to breathe. When you finally caught your breath, you dropped your hands and hiccuped.

“Tommy, I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean? What’s goin’ on?” He reached out to hold one of your hands and rubbed his thumb across it comfortingly.

You hiccuped a few more times before looking down at your lap. “I’m pregnant.”

The man almost fell back on his ass as the words left your mouth. He regained his balance by gripping the side of your chair and looked at you with wide eyes. “Pregnant?! You’re sure?”

You nodded as your eyes filled with tears again.

“Does he know?” You shook your head and recovered your face with your hands as it crumpled. He leaned forward and wrapped you in a hug, letting you dampen his shoulder as you let it all wash over you.

You couldn’t see, but Tommy looked visibly uncomfortable as he watched you cry and held you for several reasons. He was seeing red, knowing his brother hurt you enough that news like this caused you this much sadness. He also still felt a sense of loyalty toward Joel and was worried you would keep the child from him, no matter how much he may deserve it.

“Are you gonna keep it?”

You looked at him with wide, wet eyes and nodded, wiping the wet trails on your cheeks and taking a short breath. “Yes. I know it isn’t ideal, but it’s something I wanted eventually. It’s just happening sooner than I thought.”

He nodded, listening to you, and cracked a smile. “Well, that’s all that matters. As long as this is somethin’ you want, we’ll do anything we can to help you. Me and Maria, we’re here for you. No matter what.”

“Thank you, Tommy. Really. But I’ll be okay. I’m going tell him. I will. I just…”

He rubbed your knee again, giving you time. You shook your head and struggled to begin speaking again. After a few mumbles and false starts, you finally were able to say, “He feels what we had was a mistake and I don’t…I know he never meant for this to be the outcome of what…we had.”

Tommy’s face hardened in anger. How the fuck could his brother ruin the confidence of this incredible woman? Especially a woman for whom he was head over heels.

You took another breath and returned to wringing your hands together to give yourself something physical to focus on as you continued, “I’m worried. I don’t want to make this any harder on him.”

Tommy’s eyebrows stitched together in confusion. “What? Why? This is a surprise, of course. But my brother is a decent man despite how goddamn stupid he can be.”

You took a shuddering breath. “He already lost one kid. I don’t want…I don’t want him to feel a sense of obligation. I would feel like I’m manipulating him or something. But I don’t want him to not know his kid.”

This time, it was Tommy who covered his face with his hands as he tried to control his breathing. You knew about Sarah. If you knew about Sarah, there was no doubt in Tommy’s mind that Joel loved you.

His eyes watered, and his voice cracked as he held your hand and said, “If you’re going to keep it, you gotta tell him.”

After a beat, you nodded and stood. “I will.” He also nodded and got up with a grunt, placing a hand on your back and walking you to the door.

After you said your goodbyes, you immediately set down the path to the Miller house, not wanting to waste another second in agonizing debates and anxiety. He had to know and now was better than any other time.

When you knocked on their door, you once again twisted your hands together as you waited for it to creak open. It took much longer than your wait at Tommy’s because Joel was just on the other side of the door, standing in shock after seeing you through the peephole.

You were here. Standing on his porch. He wanted to rip the door open and drag you inside and into his bed, but he could barely move. Eventually, he slowly opened the door and met you with surprised eyes.

“Hi.” God, your voice. Your last conversation haunted him, and hearing it directed at him in such soft tones stilled him.

He knew he had to respond, but all he could do was just stand there.

You looked at him, hating how much you missed him, and let that feeling wash over you. You were still pissed, but seeing the way he looked at you now almost made you buckle at the knee. “Can we talk?”

He nodded and opened the door wider, but you shook your head. He leaned an arm on the doorframe, mainly to keep him upright, and attempted to look at ease as you began to talk.

You looked at the ground before speaking. “Look, there isn’t an easy way to begin this. We haven’t talked in a while… And god, this isn’t something I ever thought I would have to tell you. But…”

You took a shuddering breath, and he stepped forward without thinking and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder to steady you. You looked at it and then finally met his eyes. “Joel, I’m pregnant.”

The floor beneath him should’ve given out, and panic should’ve flooded his system, but all he could think was how beautiful you looked. He knew the news was a shock, but the only reason his grip tightened on your shoulder was the look of fear in your eyes.

You take a step back, forcing his arm to drop. “And I’m keeping it. I just wanted to let you know but…” You took a breath. “I’ll leave it up to you as far as how involved you want to be. I know it’s a lot to think about and this was the last thing you expected after…everything. But I know what you…”

You stopped yourself from continuing as he shook his head, confused.

“What I what?” His voice was so gruff.

You closed your eyes and winced before answering. “What you lost. Before.”

The silence between you was heavy. His face was now all hard lines.

“I want to give you a choice. This baby will be here and…if you wanted to know them, I want you to have that choice.”

His eyes met yours again, filled with questions and a matching shining layer of tears. He was already a pseudo-father to Ellie, but this. He never thought this would happen to him again.

He moved forward as if he was going to comfort you but stopped himself. “What do you need from me?” You shook your head. This wasn’t the question you expected him to ask.

“Nothing…Joel. I’m fine. I promise. The town will provide me with anything I need. We have a pretty good program for mothers to be.” He nodded and took a step back. “Well, now you know. I guess…I’ll let you know in about eight months.”

You walked down the steps, and Joel almost followed you but let you get ahead as he battled with what to do next. After a few moments, he stumbled after you, calling out to you to hold up for just a second. You slowed your stride so he could stand next you again.

He panted before speaking. “Look, a baby is not what I was expecting, but-” He held out a hand to completely stop you from walking. “Hold up for a second. I’m trying to-.” He took a deep breath. “I want to know this kid.”

Your eyes softened, and you nodded. Did he think you would keep his kid from him? You could tell there was so much more he wanted to say, so you waited for him to talk, but he just kept his eyes locked on yours.

“Joel...of course. If that’s what you want, of course you will. You’ll know them. I promise.” You looked at the ground and then back up to him. “As their dad.”

He nodded solemnly, and you grappled internally with whether or not this was something he truly wanted. And it broke you a little.

In a fractured voice, he looked up and said, “I’m sorry. I was trying to-to make things better, and I just…I just took your life away.” His eyes were closed to spilling over due to the fresh tears.

You shook your head and forced a smile. “Nothing to be sorry for. This is a happy surprise. At least to me. These things…they just happen.”

You walked away quickly before your tears could overtake you again, leaving him alone with his thoughts and without a response.

But the only thing on his mind was a baby with your eyes, and the thought almost brought him to his knees with gratitude.

Next Chapter.

Tag List :) @silksepia @hello-nah817 @longlivetheloneliness @keseqna @millers-girl @treacherqus @lemonboi @spnfic85 @secretlettersfromyourlove @nosebeers @boscogirlsworld @aleemendoza2425-blog @puppi-sonnenschein @needz1nk

18+. Read at your own risk. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Minors DO NOT ENGAGE.

#bitter taste of honey #good day sunshine #joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #spotify #the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #tlou #joel miller smut #Spotify

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chippedlead · 4 months ago

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Rough draft version below |

#franken stein fanart #stein #franken stein #professor stein #professor stein fanart #stein fanart #soul eater #stein soul eater #stein soul eater fanart #soul eater fanart #i’m glad that i could make the digital version look clean #art #digital drawing #fanart #do not copy to another site without my permission #my art #artistontiktok

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gremlin-girly · 9 months ago

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Kinktober Day 4

Title: Dark Fantasy Meets Reality

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen (The Gray Man) x f!Reader

Kink: CNC

Tags/ Warnings: SMUT, CNC, hair pulling, rough sex, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, sunshine), praise (good girl), man-handling, bondage (zipties), p-in-v (wrap it before you tap it), cream pie, choking/breath play, panties and fingers in mouth, vaginal fingering, Lloyd Hansen (He is most DEFINITELY a warning)

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You find a place on the Web where you can spell out your sexual desires with no judgement and maybe even hire some help...

As always I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated or copied. My warnings are non-exhaustive (even though I do try to capture everything) but please read at your own risk. I am not responsible for your content consumption.

A/N: Jeez, cutting it close with this one. I had another fic for today but I wanted to change the pacing so I decided this might be a better fit - Love Grem 💜

I hope you enjoy; comments, likes and reblogs are always welcome!

Prev | Next | Masterlist

You half growl to yourself and kick off the covers.

This was getting ridiculous.

You were beyond horny – you were desperate for some relief but everytime you got close to that sweet, sweet edge of ecstasy, you were viciously pulled away. Either there was a delivery, or phone call, something that snapped your mind our of fantasy and back to reality. Sometimes it was your own mind sabotaging you; you forgot the washing again, that very important work thing you had. Things that only added to your stress and frustration. Always Ruining what would have been a perfect orgasm.

You’d been without a partner for a while now, and at first it was great. You and your fingers or vibrator were happy as a clam. However, the insatiable need of physical touch became overpowering. You didn’t want the torturous, laborious process of getting to know someone before trusting them enough to reveal some of your kinks for them to either break it off or judge you. Although it would be nice to have someone to share your bed with, once in a while.

You huffed, tugging your sweat pants back on, and heading to the bathroom to wash your hands. You needed to do something or someone and soon. You head back to your laptop, your coffee cold and uninviting, grumbling as you answer emails. It’s not long before your mind wanders, taunting you with thoughts and daydreams of utter filth. You glance to your phone.

Surely, there has to be a website for your sort of fantasies right? You see comments on reddit and porn sites so – surely – there’s a site where you could at least talk through your fantasies?

You pick up your phone and begin to type; work abandoned. After forty minutes of searching you find a site, agreeing to terms and conditions and set up a log in; using a faceless image of yourself in your favourite bra. Writing out your biography is a strangely freeing feeling. Openly listing kinks and things you’d like to try; things you’d never, ever tell a random person you’d meet face to face. Its not long before you’re browsing through posts and you can feel the familiar bubble of excitement build. You bite your lip.

It’s a dangerous game but you consider making a post, laying out what you need. You remind yourself of digital footprints but God – you need some form of release that maybe this will help. So you write. It’s not a New York Times Bestseller, but it’ll do. You re-read it, ironing out any spelling mistakes or especially bad grammar and hit the post button. You stare as it publishes your content and sigh softly. You’re not sure how to feel.

“I can always delete it in a few days,” you tell yourself, setting your phone face down and looking back to your laptop. “Yeah. I could always do that.”

You’re running errands a week later when your phone buzzes with a notification. You dismiss it and shrug it off, continuing to walk down the street with your tote over your shoulder. It was a warm day, a deliciously cool breeze in the air and youd taken the time and effort to make yourself up. A cute summer dress that was almost a little revealing, your favourite strawberry lip gloss and make up to exentuate your favourite and best features and your hair, your hair, was just perfect today.

It still didn't stop the ache from your clit though. That was the only downside.

You reached around the snacks in your tote bag to find the keys to your home but your key wouldn’t turn. You frowned a little and try the handle. The front door swung open to an empty apartment. You shiver slightly.

“Must’ve forgot to lock it. Damn.” You murmur to the hallway as you step inside. You turn to lock the door and when the bolt slides home, a gloved handovers your mouth and you’re yanked backwards into a broad, hard chest. You yelp as you’re pulled, legs wobbling but another large hand appears at your hip, holding you steady against your aggressor.

“Welcome home,” a deep voice rumbles from behind you, breath hot on your neck and wisps of facial hair tickling the shell of your ear. You go to make a noise, but the hand encompassing your jaw squeezes hard.

“Ah – ah – ah,” the voice chides teasingly and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “I don’t want you screaming just yet.”

It was like someone had poured ice down your spine. You were spun around and early marched down the short hallway and into the kitchen, your tote ripped from your shoulder and tossed somewhere – you didn’t really care, you were to busy thinking about what would happen next. Marched to the countertop, your aggressor pushed your head flat against the surface, nestling a strong leg between your thighs to stop you trying to make a hasty attempt at escape while a free hand bound your wrists behind your back with what felt like zipties, biting into your skin agonisingly. He made an approving humming sound, and although you couldn’t quite see him, you could feel his eyes roaming over you. Gloved hands ghosted from your knees, to your thighs and to your ass, giving it an appreciative squeeze as the skirt of your dress was lifted over your hips. You felt yourself flush with a mixture of fear and embarassment, knowing your lace panties were being admired.

“All this for me? You shouldn’t have.”

You wriggled feebly, which earned you a harsh smack to on ass cheek, making you squeak with shock. You kick your legs out, earning another, harder smack to your other cheek. This time you cry out, and you hear the voice chuckle.

“Behave, sweetheart,” you hear a belt buckle clink behind you and freeze up. “Or don’t. I don’t really care.”

You whimper when you feel a finger run down to your clit over your panties and you flush again when you feel your legs practically vibrate at the sensation. Another chuckle from the man behind you.

“Oh, sweetheart. Here, let me help.”

You feel your panties slowly and tauntingly slide down over your ass cheeks, your voice dying in your throat the hot flesh between your legs met the cool air of your kitchen. You can feel your panties hang loosely around your ankles and there’s a tap against your leg from a polished shoe. On instinct you raise your foot.

“Good girl,” purrs the voice, tapping your other leg with his foot. You repeat the motion, raising your other leg. There’s a dramatic sigh as the man leans over, swiftly sweeping your panties from the floor. You whimper when he leans over your body, pressing you into the counter. Your bones cry in agony with the pressure and you bite your lip to keep any sort of noise slipping out. Which is futile when a large hand knots in your hair, pulling your hair by the root, forcing you to crane your neck back uncomfortably to look at the man behind you. Tears sting at your eyes but you say nothing, focusing intently as predatory blue eyes bore into you. You can see a playful sneer tugging at his lips beneath a groomed moustache, contorting a handsome face into a dangerously seductive one.

“Hey, pretty girl. Name’s Lloyd. I need you to remember that, got it?”

You don’t think you’d be able to forget it anytime soon but you nod anyway, keeping your teeth firmly pressed against the softness of your lips as you look back at him with glassy wide eyes. His smile widens and he pats your right ass cheek gently.

“Good girl,” He praises, raising your panties to your mouth. “Open wide, pretty girl.”

Your heart beats wildly as you comply, feeling the thick gloved fingers shove the flimsy material into your open mouth. Shame floods you as you feel the dampness of your excitement touch your tounge – this should not turn you on as much as it does. Lloyd takes in your expression, and looks pleased.

“You look good with your mouth full, sunshine.” He teases, squeezing your ass cheek with his free hand before moving to your aching core. Your moan is suppressed by your panties and Lloyd’s fingers in your mouth. Lloyd slips two fingers into your desperate hole with ease, sliding them in and out torturously slow, smirking down at you as your eyes flutter and your legs shift. He teases and flexes his fingers inside of you, spreading and stretching you open with a delicious burn that had you keening around the fingers in your mouth.

“Shit,” He gasps tauntingly. “You’re already soaked. You don’t need the warm-up.”

Your eyes go wide when you feel his cock run over your folds, gathering the slick that had built up between your thighs. You make a muffled sound of protest that evolves into a long moan as Lloyd sheaths his cock into your throbbing cunt. Your eyes roll back and Lloyd’s fingers move from your mouth to wrap around your throat, squeezing your windpipe lightly and pulling you backwards so you’re flush against his chest.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” He coos huskily into your ear, “Take it.”

The hand in your hair moves to your hip, keeping you still as he starts to thrust into you. Lloyd’s moustache tickles at your throat when he trails kisses along the back of your neck, the grip from his hand squeezing so tightly you feel lightheaded. But damn, if it doesn’t feel good. Your pussy grips his cock making Lloyd grunt into your ear, thrusting harder into you. You mewl around your panties, trying to shift your tied hands to no avail.

Lloyd groans as he feels your slick walls flutter around him, milking his cock so well, so quickly. A gloved finger hooks part of your panty and tugs it free from your mouth, throwing to the floor with a wet thud. You take a huge gulp of air before Lloyd’s hand is back around your throat again.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” He growls, tugging your neck back forcefully. You yell out, back arching along with your neck as your hips slam mercilessly against the countertop.

“Y-You!” You cry out, gasping for air when he releases your throat to let you speak. Lloyd clicks his tongue, squeezing your throat again.

“No, no, sweetheart,” he chides, voice low. “Get it wrong again and I’ll have to spank you. Now, let’s try again. Who does this pussy belong to?”

He releases your throat again but this time you almost scream his name. “Lloyd! I-it belongs to yo-“

“That’s right, baby!” Lloyd interrupts you loudly, cutting off your air supply once more. He fucks into you mercilessly, and you’re sure you’ve got Bruises on your hips, but you don’t really care. Lloyd’s sneer against your neck with filthy praises falling from his lips make your head spin and you don’t even notice that you’re cumming over his cock until he releases your neck to let you scream.

“Oh, look at you.” He huffs, continuing the unrelenting pace, loving the feeling of your soaked cunt around him and the way your legs are shaking. “Doin’ so well for me sweetheart. I think I’m gonna have to keep you.”

You whine pitifully, pleasure blurring your brain as you nod along to his words.

“Fuck, you’d like that?” Lloyd groans. His hips stutter for a moment but when he starts to fuck you again, it’s sloppier and less focused. “You’d like to be all mine?”

“Oh – yes!” You half-sob, eyes rolling to look up at the ceiling as you feel your pussy spasm; close to cumming yet again. That spasm is what sends Lloyd over the edge, pinning you in place with his hands on your hips as he coats your walls with his cum. You follow soon after, again, squeezing him for everything he can give.

Your breathing is shallow but you tell when cool metal slips against your wrist, freeing your from the ties. Your hands fly out to grab the counter, steading yourself as you catch your breath.

“Well, sunshine, this was fun.” Lloyd comments nonchalantly as he removes himself from you lazily, prolonging the feeling of his cock slipping from you before giving your ass a pat. “But I’ve got a job nearby – shouldn’t be too long.”

You push yourself up onto your elbows and blink a few times. You glance over your shoulder to see him shoving himself back into his pants quickly. He gives you a wink and a smirk that has a blush creeping up your neck.

“Don’t give me that look,” He says waggling a finger jokingly at you. “I’ll be back later for another round. Or three.”

You nod, still a little shell-shocked and ruminating in post-orgasm bliss. Maybe that website wasn't half bad after all.

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #day 4 #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloud hansen fanfic #lloyd hansen smut #gremlin girly writes #gremlin girly

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aj-norizz · 6 months ago

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Keeping Up With The Sainzes- Silverstone Sub Part 2

DISCLAIMER: Please don’t copy my work onto any other sites, translate it and more or less steal it without asking for permission first. Thanks guys :)

Also massive shoutout to @maelashifts for helping me write this bc without you girl we wouldn’t have a chapter

Back to Masterlist!

Previous part Next part

Warnings: SMUT

“Come on baby aren’t you gonna make me feel good?” He asked with that smirk that drove her mad.

“Baby…” she smiled to herself, not letting his usual act deter her. “We all know I’m the dom in this relationship…you want your little celebration? Get on your knees and be a good boy.”

Lando paused before gulping. “What did you call me?”

AJ smirked.

“Baby…come on you know I don’t ask twice…but because you won today I will…”

He knew he was in for it now.

“Get on your knees baby…and be a good boy.”

“Yes ma’m.”

AJ couldn’t help but feel a pang of desire as he looked up at her, fluttering his eyelashes. For someone who was so dominating on the track and so ruthless at times he melted under the slightest attention given to him.

“Look up baby. Look me in the eye.”

He looked up at her, his eyes hungry and desperate.

“Please…” he panted.

“Please what baby? Speak up…come on.”

“Please touch me.”

“Lan. Come on. Use your words.”

AJ took a look over to the clock. 4:00. This was going to be a long night.

4:20

“That’s a good boy.”

AJ’s hands were practically glued to Lando’s hair as she moved the boy to wherever she wanted him.

He could only moan in reply to her words.

“Come on baby…that’s it…that’s the spot…”

Lando let out a whine of appreciation as AJ tugged harder, subtly telling him he was doing a good job.

He smiled softly to himself and dug his tongue deeper in.

4:50

“AJ…right there please…god you’re gorgeous on your knees…”

AJ smirked back up at him and lead his hands to her hair. She pulled out suddenly with a pop leaving him to whine from the cold.

“Keep your hands there…or you don’t cum.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“That’s a good boy.”

And she gingerly ducked her head down and slowly licked a stripe.

“Fuck me dead…”

“That’s the plan sweetheart.”

5:08

“So pretty like this baby…”

Lando whined his legs close to giving out as he leaned against the wall, his head lolling back.

AJ lifted the shirt over his head- having initially deciding to leave it on as they were both so desperate to get his trousers off.

She smirked as she looked at the chain dangling below his neck.

“Forgot to tell me about this hm baby?”

He looked up with a guilty expression as she tugged it a bit harder than usual.

“A-AJ!” He cried out, gasping for air.

“That’s not my name right now baby…”

“Ma’am…”

“Good boy…now be quiet and I’ll show you exactly how this chain is meant to be used.”

5:25

AJ watched a mixture of his and her cum leak out of her. The sight made her moan.

Lando whimpered thinking they were going for another round and slowly started moving his hips again.

“No…no no baby-“

“No…wanna…wanna make you feel good…”

“You’re such a good boy Lan but you know you can be done…”

He kept sloppily thrusting upwards before he suddenly stopped. He battered his eyelashes innocently- a thing that could’ve made AJ laugh because of the state he had gotten himself in- and she knew he wanted something.

“Ride me baby?”

“With those pretty eyes how on earth could I say no?”

5:40

“Come on baby I gotta get you cleaned up…”

“Nooooo…” Lando slurred with a sniffle.

“Baby come on im gonna hurt you soon.”

“Save a horse ride a cowboy…” he sang with a smirk.

“I’m sending you to sleep baby. Come on I’ll get you all cleaned up.”

“If-if I win Austin…and I bring the McLaren cowboy hat to the hotel room will you fuck-fuck me in it and ride me like a cowboy?”

“You gotta win first…” AJ cooed.

“You know I will.”

But before they could drift off to sleep a knock- no a slamming on their hotel room door interrupted them.

AJ opened the door.

Shit.

Carlos.

“Well…I had no idea you had it in you,” he quipped without letting his sister get a word in.

“Thank you-“

“No. No not you. I meant Lando?”

“Que?”

“I had no idea Lando’s voice could get that high.”

Tagssss: @maelashifts @sadiemack9

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band--psycho · 9 months ago

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Zayne x Reader - Doctor Visits

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over.

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

Warnings: Doctors appointments, brief mentions of a blood test, mature themes towards the end

I do intend to write a Part 2 for this

L&DS Masterlist / Zayne Masterlist / Join My Taglist

“Thank you for checking in,” the receptionist at the hospital said with a polite smile, “Dr Zayne will be with you soon”

Your heart dropped at her words.

Dr Zayne?

“I think there must be some mistake?” You stated; trying to understand how you’re seeing Zayne for this appointment when 1) you didn’t book this appointment with him and 2) he was meant to be on holiday; at least that’s what he told you a few days ago when you last spoke to him.

“The doctor you booked to see is unavailable right now,” the receptionist clarified her focus shifting from the screen she’d been staring at for a few moments.

Obviously your unease must’ve been written all over your face because the receptionist followed her own words up with, “If you wish to wait until the doctor you originally booked in to see is available we can reschedule your appointment.”

You wanted to reschedule.

But you knew that you couldn’t.

The Hunters Association had very strict rules on keeping up to date with doctors appointments so that medical records could be kept accurate.

And recently you’d been so busy with missions and studying; that booking the appointment had completely slipped your mind, that was until Tara mentioned it a few days ago.

This was the last day you could have an appointment before you would be overdue on it.

Which although it wasn’t the end of the world, wasn’t exactly an ideal situation.

But neither was having Zayne as your doctor for this.

“It’s fine,” you reluctantly said, moving away from the receptionist's desk and taking a seat in the waiting area.

Zayne was your usual primary physician, he was the one that kept a vigilant eye on your heart condition and made sure that your blood pressure and everything else was okay.

And although this was just a routine doctor's appointment, knowing that Zayne was now going to be asking you private questions and listening to your answers, made you want to run out of the hospital eight that second.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Zayne, you did.

More so than you trusted anyone really.

And you knew that he would remain professional regardless of your answers.

But the truth was you were embarrassed; embarrassed to admit things that you hadn’t shared with anyone.

Things that you certainly didn’t ever think you’d have to admit to Zayne.

“Y/n,” a familiar voice snapped you out of your thoughts, looking up you saw Yvonne standing in front of you, “Dr Zayne will see you now.”

You nodded briefly, giving her a small smile as you rose to your feet.

It was like your body was on auto-pilot, and you followed Yvonne straight to Zaynes office.

The nurse gave you a small nod, signaling that you could go in, before walking away down the hall.

You took a deep breath; your hand gingerly hovering over the door knob, wondering if you could attempt to make a last minute dash to the exit without anyone seeing.

The opportunity to do so was there, you could go now and no questions would really be asked.

Except Zayne would know that he was meant to see you today…and if you didn’t show up to your appointment, he’d start asking why.

And it would mean that you’d have to reschedule it for another day without knowing when the original doctor you booked in with would be free.

‘The sooner I go in, the sooner it’ll be done’ you thought to yourself, placing your hand on the door handle, pushing the door open and walking into Zaynes office.

“Y/n/n,” Zaynes stoic voice filled your ears, only raising your already heightened anxiety

‘Just breathe,’ you thought to yourself, turning to look at the doctor sitting behind a desk.

“Please have a seat,” Zayne continued, extending his hand slightly towards the chair on the other side of his desk.

You let out a shallow breath, attempting to compose yourself as you sat down in the chair opposite him.

“I apologise about that change to your appointment,” Zayne began; typing away on the keyboard, his eyes fixed on the computer screen.

“It’s okay,” you answered quietly, absentmindedly fidgeting with your hands as they laid in your lap.

“You seem nervous,” Zayne pointed out, glancing up at you over his glasses briefly, before turning his attention back to the computer.

His words made you aware of what your hands were doing; halting your fidgeting movements.

“You don’t need to be, this is just a routine appointment,” he assured you with a small smile; but his words didn’t do much to ease your anxiety.

~~~~~~

The questions started off normal, like “How have you felt since your last check up?”, “Have you had any new injuries from any recent missions,” etcetera, etcetera, and then they started to get a bit more private, a bit more personal.

Starting with, “Any irregularities in your menstrual cycle?”

“No,” you answered back finitely, making Zaynes eyes fall on you once again; but this time, he held your gaze.

He knew that you were lying.

And you knew that he knew.

The way in which you answered the question was an obvious giveaway.

But even without that, you knew Zayne would probably have sussed out that you were lying, he always knew.

“Y/n, it is key in these appointments for you to be honest with your doctor,” he reminded you softly, urging you to tell him the truth.

But you knew what your answer could imply; you were a week late, just one week and you knew that it was probably because of stress and exhaustion; not because of any other reason.

You knew your answer would open a door to more personal questions; but you also knew that you needed to tell Zayne the truth.

“I’m a week late,”

“I see,” he replied, turning back to his computer screen, for a brief moment you saw something in his eyes, a look of…hurt, you watched how his jaw tightened and he continued typing away on his computer, “and when was the last time you were intimate with someone?”

And there it was, the very question types of questions you were trying to avoid.

You knew what he was implying with his question.

His question was almost laughable, had you not been so embarrassed about the answer you knew you’d have to give, you probably would have laughed.

In truth, you could barely remember the last time you went on a date with someone, let alone the last times you were intimate with someone; and now you had to admit that to the very man who was part of the reason why.

You liked Zayne, as more than a friend… in all honesty, to you, no one else compared to him.

So even if you did have the time to date people, or be intimate with them, you wouldn’t because they weren’t Zayne.

Sometimes, you thought he held the same feelings for you,even though he’d never said anything to give you such an idea.

It was more in the way you caught him looking at you sometimes…with a look that not only made your heart skip a beat, but a look that made you wonder.

A look that made you wonder if he felt the same; or if it was just your hopeful heart messing with your mind.

“A year,” you mumbled, feeling the heat of embarrassment fill your cheeks.

It was a year ago, with someone you met in a bar, one thing led to another and you ended up in their bed.

It was then that you realised how you truly felt for Zayne…because all you could do whilst you were being intimate with them, was imagine Zayne.

After that, you couldn’t bring yourself to try and meet anyone else.

You didn’t want to.

Which is why you kept yourself busy with work; it stopped you from being able to think about your own loneliness too much.

Zayne said nothing in response to your answer; though you did notice his expression seemed to soften as he typed your answer up on your medical record sheet.

A few more questions and a blood test later and your appointment was over and you were following Zayne to the door to his office.

“I’m going to sign you off for a few days; so you can get some rest,” he said as he put his hand on the handle of the door.

“Zayne-” you attempted to argue back but he just shook his head, silencing your words, before you could even finish your counter argument.

“A few days of rest,” He repeated softly, though you knew by the look in his eyes that there was no use arguing with him.

“Understand?” His voice was just above a whisper but it was loud enough to send a small pleasurable shiver throughout your body.

You couldn’t help but wonder if he knew how much of an effect he had on you by just whispering to you like this.

“Y/n,”

You hated your first name, so you always went by Y/n/n.

Hearing your full first name was unusual, no one called you it anymore; but it was especially unusual hearing it fall from Zayne's lips; though for some reason your name sounded good on his lips.

“Do you understand?” he asked again

You knew you shouldn’t have found his question as erotic as you did; it was a simple question, but the authority in his voice mixed with the way his eyes were burning into yours, made you feel very hot and tingly all of a sudden.

You were turned on...

You needed to play it cool, act like you perfectly fine, so you nodded in agreement.

Not daring to trust your voice at this very moment; not when you were this close to each other.

“Good,” was the last thing he said to you before opening the door, allowing you to walk out of his office.

You'd barely take a few steps away from his door before you heard it click shut behind you; it was only then you released a breath you hadn't been aware of holding as you replayed what just happened in your mind.

He was so close to you...so close...

'Stop it,' you mentally scolded yourself as you began walking down the hallway.

You passed the reception and left the hospital quickly, trying to think about what you were going to do with your now free days, instead of how much you wanted Zayne...

Taglist:

@xacatalepsyx @fangirlsfandomsss @book-dragon03 @evilldentists @hao-ming-8 @princess-harvey @deathkat657 @comatosebunny09 @the-slytherin-poet @ladyparamount @ayatoq @cheesemachine44 @popcorn-mochi01 @thegalaxysedge22 @hotdogcookie

#zayne x reader #zayne imagines #zayne imagine #zayne x you #zayne x mc #lds zayne #l&ds zayne #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace imagines #love and deepspace imagine #zayne love and deepspace #zayne smut

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hwalovs · 6 months ago

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The Apprentice 1/?

Chapter One; Deer, Fox, or Rabbit?

Pairing; Viktor x Vampire!Reader Warnings; none too extreme? Blood drinking (animal), mainly just yappers yapping about things. it’s a little twilight coded, so what?? sue me! Word Count; 7.8k

Summary; Finding an Apprentice should be easy. You have a simple task, one that cannot be handled lightly. Yet, the mind is a unique thing, and each one you've come across don't seem to meet your specific qualifications. Until your dear friend and confidant, Heimerdinger, brings forth a man with a bright ambition and a determination that could rival anyone.

A/n; oh god,, another series?? this one ahs been cooking for the last few days, and after finishing arcane and igniting my LOVE for Viktor, i decided it was time to try my hand at writing him :>> my darling friend @disturbyn beta read this so I’m no longer liable for financial instability!

THIS IS NOT EDITED!

DO NOT COPY, REPOST ON OTHER SITES, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK WITHOUT PERMISSION!

“My dear friend,” a voice chimes, and you smile. Dropping to a knee, you open your arms to greet him with a brief hug. He was warm, fur soft as it touched your cheek. He pulls away, and with bright eyes he says your name. He was dressed in his usual councilman attire, blue fabric complimented with gold.

“Councilor Heimerdinger, what a pleasant sight to see.”

He waves you off, stepping away to give you a glare “drop the formalities, would you?”

Shrugging, you rise to your full height, tipping your head to your driver who opened your door. The streets of Piltover were bustling with life, people walking in and out of the building. The sun was shining brightly, no cloud in the sky, the buildings of Piltover glimmering and dazzling. On the rare occasions that you visit, the city never fails to amaze you with its beauty. More innovations included, more steps into the future.

Even with your jacket on, it was cold outside. The air was biting at your cheeks as you walked the stairs, body shivering as the wind wrapped your body. Heimerdinger couldn’t tell the difference, his thick fur protecting his small body from the elements.

Unless it was raining, then you would see him running for any kind of shelter.

“I find it customary, dear friend,” you jest, beginning to climb the steps of the building. It was large, almost doubling the size of the one from the last Inventors Competition you attended. It was hosted in Piltover this year, situated right between the heart of the city, and the bridge that leads to Zaun. The building was a museum, repurposed for the day. Three sets of double doors were propped open, allowing people to freely go in and out. Marble steps lead the way up, the chains on your boots clinking with each step you take.

“Yet, you’ve arrived late,” Heimerdinger says, “not very customary of you, my dear.”

“Eh,” you shrug, “I doubt my presence was missed.”

He shakes his head, “most have already asked for an audience with you. You’re going to come across many disappointed faces, I fear.”

“Aw, poor babies,” you kiss your teeth, stopping in the doorway to look around the room. Multitudes of tables were set up to hold different inventions. Most of the crowd had already moved on, the aisles free to roam comfortably.

Although you’d have rather stayed home, there was a nagging that stayed consistent in your mind. It whispered to you during the night, while you tried to work, while you roamed the empty halls of your estate.

Oh, sweet death. It would sing, a symphony without the strings.

Heimerdinger's letters on the subject once brought you annoyance, but this year, you decided to indulge him. Months of writing, planning your short visit, tell you what to expect from some of his students. You tried to keep an open mind, but as you survey the room from your standing point, you find mirrors of what you’ve seen before.

He chuckles, and you nod to the enforcers that stand beside the doors. They barely glance your way, all zoned in your own worlds as they try to stay awake.

“Tell me,” you muse, “anything promising?”

“That all depends on what you’re looking for,” he smiles, “the entries this year are very promising, I should add.”

Finally making your way into the building, you start down one of the rows, briefly reading off the small cards that line the table. It was intriguing, seeing what the human mind can create. Each one was different, promising innovation and change for the ones who needed it the most. Some were simple, a new irrigation method, a new tool to help with surgery. Others were more intricate, a way to heal broken bones faster, a way to grow taller or thinner in a matter of days.

Heimerdinger continued to talk at your side, keeping with your slow pace. His voice was bright and joyous, a singing tone that contrasted to yours. He spoke enough for the both of you, and as time passed you’d grown accustomed to his hyperactive personality. Always easy to pick out of the crowd, various voices meshing together in one large mass that you tried to ignore.

“The last time I was here,” you break the silence, glancing down at bright blue eyes, “you told me I’d be impressed with the entries.”

He pauses, looking at you with narrowed eyes and a twitching lip, “I was correct then, just as I am correct now-”

“Eh,” you wince, scrunching your face up and rocking a hand side to side, “I’d say-”

He cuts you off, speaking over you, it makes you laugh. Holding your hands in surrender at his stern tone, “New minds bring new innovations, different outlooks that we haven’t thought of. It’s brilliant, what the mind can do without restrictions.”

Stopping at the end of the table, you reach out to grab a small device, painted an array of blues and pinks that resemble a chomping shark. On the side was a pin, your thumb brushing over it, nodding your head once and setting it back down. Next to it was a small card, the dimensions, components, and its purpose all messily written.

“Brilliant. Yet, the council never seizes what can excel the cities.”

Heimerdinger huffs, “Many trials can take years to complete, and other items do not get chosen.”

Humming, you choose not to argue. It was something that would always come up between you both. With him on the council, you liked to poke fun. Liked to make jabbing remarks that would cause his fur to bristle, his foot to stomp. He didn’t pick up on it until years later, and stopped indulging your antics. Tonight, you suppose he forgot. The excitement of young minds filled the air, cheerful laughter and jittering tones that spoke too fast.

The back of the crowd was already making their way into the main ballroom, where all inventors and potential patrons would speak of partnerships and opportunities. Sometimes you wouldn’t even make it to that room, instead heading home after surveying the array of inventions.

“Has the ranking already been released?” You ask, turning down another aisle. Boots tapping against the tiled floor, you brush down the front of your jacket before continuing. Most things mirrored each other, mostly the same except for a slight difference. It makes you smile, seeing the small things added. A simple touch of a difference that brought out the mind of the inventor. A different paint, a different metal, a different bolt or screw. It was all intentional to them, all things different that make them human.

“Ah! Indeed! Announced just before your arrival-” He jumps, reaching into his jacket to bring out a piece of paper. It was pristine, decorated with gold and black ink. He handed it to you with a smile, and you looked over it with a raised eyebrow. From left to right, was the ranking, name, age, and small description of each entry. In tiny numbers besides that, was where each person could be found. You briefly look over each description, coming up empty handed on what you were interested in.

Fourth Place, Ekko ---, 13, ---

Third Place, Powder ---- , 12, ---

Second Place, Jayce ---, 23, ---

First Place, Viktor ---, 24, ---

Your step falters, hand quickly grabbing the edge of the table beside you to right yourself, and you glare at the bolt that slides across the floor. It was a gear, its notches broken and chipped. Heimerdinger hums a light tune under his breath, continuing on his way. He didn’t see you almost fall, didn’t see your eyes narrow and glare at the page in hand before cursing under your breath.

Shivering, you tilt your head to the side and turn the paper over. The back was filled with an array of the named Patrons, Investors, Mages, anyone who could take a beneficiary.

In italicised gold ink, was your name.

Frowning, you glare at Heimerdinger, who continued to make his way to the main room. Perhaps he thought only two rows was enough to look at, he knew what you were here for, after all.

“I’m done here,” you grumble, turning to leave before Heimerdinger shouts your name, walking quickly down the aisle to meet you once more. Gaze stern, he regards you with a frown, “you just got here, I refuse to let you leave.”

“That’s called kidnapping,” you scoff, trying to walk past, but the Yordle stands in your way.

“You’re hardly a child, yet with the way you’re acting right now- I can hardly tell the difference.”

You fake a gasp, placing your free hand onto your chest.

“Heimerdinger, you insult me.”

He ignores you, “you must meet some of the candidates before you leave, who knows- you might find who you’re looking for!”

Sighing deeply, you refuse to look at him, instead turning back around and to stare at the open doors that await you on the other side of the room. You could faintly hear the music that floods through, glasses clinking together as connections are made.

Dropping onto your haunches, you feel your jacket fold behind your knees, puddling around you. His eyes briefly widen, before his hands rest on his hips, beginning to tap against the tiles.

Holding out the paper, you tap the front, finger brushing along the parchment right next to each name.

“See these? The names, small descriptions of what they’ve brought?” His eyes flicker, and you can see the gears turning, before he sighs.

“I do, my dear.”

“What is here that will thrive under my apprenticeship?” Heimerdinger's eyebrows relax, the fur atop his lip drooping slightly. He seems to fully deflate for a moment, and then a spark ignites, and he's set alight with a new vigor.

“If you give a plant no water, will it grow? If you simply look at an unfinished project, how will it come to fruition? You must work for it,” your name is softly spoken, a hand gently placed onto yours.

“Ha,” you laugh, sarcastic, shaking your head and dropping your arms to rest on bent knees.

“If I wanted to water a plant, I wouldn’t be here.”

Sighing, he steps closer to grab your free hand once more, his other coming to gently pat the top.

He was so kind, so gentle with the people around him. All bright colors and curious nature, a mirror to you. Dark colors, disinterested eyes and almost permanent frown.

“Each human is different from the next, you simply have to talk to them. Gage what they want to pursue, and go from there. You’ll find what you’re looking for faster that way, you know.”

Grumbling, you throw him a glare. Standing, you brush off the front of your pants, and turn towards the room once more. Some of the attendees regarded you with curious looks, whispering to their partner while making room for you and Heimerdinger. Others stared with wide eyes, clutching their drink to their chest.

The room itself was beautiful, an open space once used to present statues and large art pieces. They were moved away, replaced with small tables full of small, bite sized, foods and flutes of champagne. Large windows covered the wall to your right, letting in the sun. Thick, red velvet curtains framed them, golden tassels holding the fabric open. Some were cracked, letting in the clean city air.

There was a brief moment you hoped you wouldn’t be recognized, but your attire and companion gave you away entirely.

Piltover was the city of progress, its people dressing as such. With bright colors of gold and white, displaying their house sigils proudly on their own attire, all sparkling and proudly presenting themselves. You didn’t have a house here, didn’t have a name, you didn’t wear Piltover's colors. Keeping your gaze forwards, you try to ignore their intrusive gazes.

The room itself was chilly, and you reached to pull your jacket tighter around you. It was a deep blue, silver threading and embellishments decorating the front and back. It reached down to your boots, the material slightly billowing behind you as you walked.

You make your way to the edge of the room, and politely smile at a few young faces who continue to stare. Wearing the academy uniform, you wonder if Heimerdinger would recognize them, but the student body was much too vast now to remember each new face. They each blush, quickly turning back to whoever they were talking to while walking away. Soon, it was only you and Heimerdinger, who continued to smile like nothing was wrong.

“Why are they looking at me like that?” You ask softly, hands clasping behind your back, paper still in hand.

Heimerdinger chuckles, “you’re rarely seen in the city, and you wonder why everyone is so curious?”

“I hate being a spectacle,” grumbling, you turn to look at anything else. Trying to ignore the lingering gazes, the whispers that include your name.

“Maybe,” he gasps, “you should visit more! Oh, now wouldn’t that just be lovely?”

Scowling, you glare, shifting your stance to hiss under your breath, “oh, you’d like that wouldn't you? You little demon.”

He laughs to himself, waving you off, “you just might come to adore the city the longer you frequent. The City of Progress is ever changing, my dear.”

Ignoring him, you try and make out the faces from one another. Some councilors were present, all with a champagne flute in hand as they talked to academy students, other investors, even potential partners that could benefit for their own gain.

One boy, though, all smiling and bright eyed, continued to talk with a small group of students. The one who caught your eye, though, wore the silver medal of second place around his neck. He had a small device in hand, twisting and maneuvering it around to explain to the others how it functioned. Dark hair pushed back haphazardly, tan skin that seemed to glow under the light, he was a handsome young man.

“What of Jayce-“ you squint, “Jayce Talis?”

Heimerdinger makes a questioning sound, following your line of sight before whistling, the end trailing off, “The beneficiary of House Kiramman, I’m afraid.”

“Hm, not swayable, then?”

He only waves you off, “he seems to be prospering under their care- what of Ekko and Powder?” he’s pointing to a young duo opposite Jayces' group. Sitting at one of the small tables, drinks untouched. They were consumed in a hushed conversation, both staring inquisitively down at an open notebook. Short blue hair stopping just under her shoulders, the young girl bites at her nails. The dress she wore was violet, flowing just past her knees. It matched the pink stripe in her hair perfectly.

The boy, though, was in an academy uniform, white hair pulled away from his face. Dark skin, kind eyes, his leg tapping anxiously.

“Ekko and Powder?” You parrot, and Heimerdinger makes a noise in the back of his throat.

“Best not to separate them,” he stops short, quickly recovering “They work well in tandem, bouncing off each other as if they were small balls of energy. You’d find most progress with both.”

That wouldn’t do; you sigh. Looking back to Jayce’s group, you briefly meet his eyes. A bright hazel that shimmered with energy. He falters in what he was saying, eyes darting between you and Heimerdinger before he frantically looks back to one of his friends. Sighing, you kiss along your teeth. There was no shaking the eyes you would spot in the crowd, clinging to you. They would quickly disappear, blushing and whispering. This part, you hated the most. All the people, staring and whispering. It made you feel small, scrutinized under them. Were some of them judging you for arriving late? Were they wondering when you’d accept a new apprentice? Closing your eyes, you try to level yourself. It wouldn’t do you any good to drag yourself through turmoil.

“You mentioned a number of them requested an audience?”

“Ah!” he jumps, clapping his hands once, before scurrying away and into the crowd.

You tried to keep yourself steady as student after student was brought to you. Some were smiling, blushing as they offered you their hand politely. The conversations were dragging, them speaking of their ambitions and dreams before being silenced by your raised hand. Some would grow teary, words dying off like the light in their eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you’d smile, a sympathetic tone wrapping your rejection, “Your ambitions, although bright, do not align with what I’m looking for.”

Some took it better than others, shaking your hand once before departing with disappointed faces and sagging shoulders. Heimerdinger would throw you a glare, ask what was wrong with them, if you were doing it just for spite. Each time, you’d shrug, “they cannot give me what I need, Heimerdinger.”

One girl was promising, Sky Young. She dazzled you with her beauty, crossing her arms and smiling brightly. She had freckles that covered her full cheeks when she spoke, glasses that reflected a dreary image of you. Life danced across her face with each word she spoke, a desire to discover, to create. She offered to show you her ideas, what she had brought as her entry. Her smile didn’t falter when you declined, and for once, you could feel hope dance its way between your ribs.

Until she mentioned her schooling, and how she’d want to continue innovating and creating.

With a heavy heart, you reluctantly rejected her. She took it respectfully, dipping her head.

“I have one more idea, although he did not request an audience,” he sighed, before he departed once more. For, hopefully, the final time tonight.

Towards the two hour mark, you find yourself standing with your eyes closed, listening to your own breathing and the chatter of conversation around you. The windows had been closed, the sun shining directly through and casting shadows of people along the floor. The music was a repeat of around ten songs, you discovered, and on the seventh song you heard Heimerdinger approaching, the distinctive tapping of a cane following.

My dear!” Heimerdinger sings, stopping to stand between you both. Smiling forcefully, you ignore the onsetting headache as you look over the man in front of you. Loose pants on long slender legs, a vest that clung to a lithe waist. Fingers that gripped a golden medal, and the pommel of a cane. The ladder made your skin prickle.

Eyes scanning higher, gliding over the grey tie that fits his throat, brown hair that almost curls around his ears, and dazzling honey gold eyes that stare back at you with unwavering certainty. Shoulders relaxed, the man seemed to be studying you as well.

“This is Viktor-“ drowning out his voice, you bite down on your tongue. Heat builds across your back, sharp claws digging into your skin to drag its way over your shoulders. Fatigue deep within your bones, you clasp your hands behind your back.

“A pleasure, truly. Madam?” He smiles, it doesn't reach his eyes.

Speaking your name plainly, you tilt your head, eyes narrowed, “congratulations on first place. I don’t remember seeing you in attendance last time I was here, are you a new student?”

“Viktor has been my assistant for some time, working under my watchful eye while he completes his studies. Though, he’s one of my top students!”

A hum, and you decide to look at anything but the man in front of you. Stomach turning, you wished for a drink. No doubt, if you could drink the bubbling champagne, you would’ve had five glasses by now. Your head moves towards the windows and when your eyes catch the light, Viktor catches a flash of red tint. He almost shivers, smile wavering and as quickly as you look away, you’re back to watching him intently.

“Your patron must be proud, working under Heimerdinger personally.”

He waves you off, and Heimerdinger gives you a curious look, gloved hands clasping in front of him, “Viktor has no patron, dear friend.”

Eyebrows rising, you look back at the younger, who was glancing at the painting behind you. Pushing the wings of your coat open, you slide your cold hands into your pockets, paper still in hand. It was folded, now hidden away. You skim your finger over one of four points, pressing it into the pad of your index before retreating.

“You’ve no patron? Can I ask why?”

It was a first, seeing someone so young without the guidance of a Patron. Every one you had met, were almost all students. They each were vying for one, asking for guidance to help with their research. Viktor, though, had seemingly made it far enough by himself.

Hands boxing his vest, he only shrugs, “Eh,” he hums, “I find it more fulfilling to work by myself. I simply assist the professor with miniscule tasks when needed.”

You wince, “I apologize on his behalf, then.”

“You insult me! Viktor works diligently and without complaint, thank you,” Heimerdinger gasps, crossing his arms.

The pair of you chuckle, and before you stop yourself, you find a smile curling around your features, “I commend you, I can barely stay around him for too long before i get a headache.”

“Have you known the Professor long? You speak as if you’re close?”

Your smile falls, and Viktor wonders if he’s spoken out of line. A melancholy look floods your features, and you look to Heimerdinger, “I’ve known him almost my whole life. He’s been a close confidant to me in my times of need, surely as his assistant, you can agree?”

“I can, his guidance has helped me with my personal work.”

“Any success?” You can feel the answer already swelling between you both, and with a disappointed shake of his head, Viktor tenses his shoulders, “Only on paper, the council deems experimentation ‘too soon’”

A small bout of anger pools in your chest, such a brilliant mind, condemned to a rigorous routine of theory after theory, faux solution; one after the other to show a group of councillors, not even proficient in the field of study, what they deem to be ‘safe’. How has such a promising city made so much progress, if minds such as his were forced to sit patiently?

“Isn’t the city of progress supposed to encourage, I don’t know- progress?” Rolling your shoulders back, you give Heimerdinger a pointed look.

“Safety must always come first, dear friend! Not everyone can go into their back yard and ignite an explosion.” He shoots an equally devious expression your way. Viktor clears his throat, shooting Heimerdinger a warning glance. You smirk, and with a tilt of your head you ask teasingly, “have you blown something up, Viktor?”

“My work can sometimes cause an unwanted chain reaction, It’s not as if I want to cause an explosion.”

“‘Sometimes’? Do you regularly almost blow up buildings? What does your work entail for you, hm?”

Cheeks burning, Viktor avoids your eyes, silently cursing the professor for bringing up the select few times an experiment went awry.

“I want to help the people who need it most, and end the suffering of the common person. My work includes basic machines and tools that could make everyday life more simple, like mine-workers. Why let outdated, faulty machines cause more suffering, when something more reliable and simple can help?”

You're smiling, looking down quickly to slide the toe of your boot across the tiles. It's brief, but it allows you to gather your thoughts, “that’s certainly an ambition.”

“Reminds me of someone, no?” Heimerdinger nudges your leg, and you wave him away. Viktor’s eyes roam your features, “You’re also a scientist?”

“I… used to be, when I was young. Now, I simply provide the necessary equipment for the work to continue. Of course, I oversee it, but I refrain from interfering.” Sliding your hands from your pockets, you flip the now crumpled piece of paper through your fingers.

“Her apprentices thrive, my boy. You should see the work others have accomplished with the tools she offers!.”

“An apprenticeship?” Viktor looked slightly confused, nose scrunching as he shifted his footing to settle more comfortably. Silent, you nod. Knowingly, you refrained from saying anything else. Your neck was starting to hurt, back aching from standing in one place for so long.

You could have walked around, mingled with others. Yet, what good would it do? Talking with polite faces that would only speak willfully of you behind your back, fake laughter and fake bonding that would, truly, get you nowhere in this society.

You’d much rather suffer the consequences of stagnation when Viktor looked at you with unhidden emotion. He didn’t try to cover them up with indifference. He bares his emotions without vulnerability, how his eyes narrow and eyebrows furrow, how his nose scrunches in annoyance, how his lips tilt in barely-hidden amusement. You can see it all flicker across his face, moments in time captured by another person’s eyes. It's familiar, you realize, how simple humans truly could be.

“Mm,” you scrunch your face, not liking the term so carelessly thrown around, “I call it a beneficial agreement.”

“Have you found any success?” Viktor retorts, smiling softly at the way you soften in disappointment. Much like his own, you yearn for a solution.

“I have not, my previous apprentice made great advances in his research. He had a great mind, I wish to find one similar.”

Your friend, though, deemed it a perfect time to raise his own voice, “Would something like that interest you, my boy? I theorize your research would thrive much more with her, rather than me.”

Ice water, poured directly over your head.

“Heimerdinger-“

“Professor-“

Honey gold meets yours, and you promptly raise a hand. It’s familiar how you both regard each other. Too comfortable, you were the one who had to cut it here.

“While I appreciate the gesture,” a warning issued within the group, blaring red, “I cannot find it within myself to consider someone who isn’t interested in the slightest.”

Viktor bites his cheek. Was he interested? He was secure with his position as Heimerdinger's assistant, yet the idea of being able to thrive in his field without watchful eyes sounded very appealing. Even Heimerdinger himself seemed thrilled at the idea of such a position for him.

“Who said I wasn’t interested?”

Kissing your teeth, taking a small step backwards, hand settling itself back at your side.

“Even if you were, I’d have to politely decline.”

Viktor, for once, finds himself at a loss for words. It’s like you’ve completely changed within the second Heimerdinger mentioned the possibility of him working under you.

“Decline? Miss,“ Heimerdinger steps closer, but you send a glare his way. It doesn’t hinder his stubbornness, “Viktor is more than qualified to take on the responsibility!”

“He isn’t-“ you stop short, head tilting as you look him over; Mulling over words that could express how against this you truly were. You look at his shoes, his cane, his chest, and finally his eyes. Curious and inviting, so alive with ambition and determination.

“He isn’t the right fit.”

Heimerdinger almost laughs, “Right fit? Viktor is my assistant, he has enough determination and willpower to climb the ranks of Piltover! Where others would falter, Viktor thrives. Even with his first time attending, the boy has won first place!”

A sense of pride, Viktor smiles, but your huff of annoyance at the statement makes the emotion fade.

“You’re correct, He’s the assistant to the dean of the academy, doing just fine for himself, as you say.”

“He could be much more, and you know this just as well as I do.”

The beginning of an argument is swelling, both Heimerdinger and you sharing glares and scowls. You’ve taken to crossing your arms, all but ignoring Viktor to turn your attention to the Yordle. Top lip twitching, Heimerdinger almost stomps his foot, “must you make things so difficult?”

You laugh, hands rubbing harshly at your eyes, sarcastically smiling, “first place doesn’t really mean anything, his ambition is too straight forward-”

“My ambition has gotten me this far, miss. If I was willing, I could get farther.”

“So you agree?” gaze narrow, you turn to him with sternness, “you choose to stay stagnant in your current position?”

It's his turn to flare with annoyance, and his eyebrows furrow, “No, I choose to benefit from my current position.”

“The boy is learning, absorbing the information that he gets his hands on. Working under you, he would be exposed to a plethora of material- he would rise higher than he ever could working under me.”

You raise a hand, and suddenly Heimerdinger breathes a heavy sigh, “Viktor, you have a brilliant mind, and a unique outlook. Yet, you do not fit the qualification I’ve set for the position.”

“My dear-” you pointedly glared, and he fell silent, “I wish you the best of luck in your research, now if you’ll excuse me gentleman, I have overstayed my welcome.”

Ignoring the calls of your name, you make your way back to the front of the building. Someone tries to step in your path, but with a tilt of your shoulder you easily slide past them, shortly turning them down with a not-so-pleasant glare.

You had lost yourself in how easy-going it was to converse with Viktor, almost forgetting why you were there in the first place. In reality, he was the most promising individual you’ve come across. Yet, you couldn’t find it within yourself to take him from the place he thrives most. He wanted to change the city for the better, pursuing actual innovation. How could Heimerdinger cast upon you the decision to ask him to leave his home? To cast aside his well earned position?

Your carriage was still waiting patiently among the others. The sun was starting to set, casting golden rays through the trees that lined the street. There was a man on stilts slowly walking down the street, lighting the lamps that stood tall. The footman smiles when seeing you, opening the door and offering you his hand.

Settling yourself down in the uncomfortable seating, you look over the paper, crumpled and folded one to many times. The edges were worn with your fiddling, and slowly you unfold it to look over the seemingly never ending list of names.

First place, Viktor —-

There's a small sliding door that sits between you and the coachman, a little bigger than the size of your hand. Silver hinges with small ornate detailing, and a matching silver latch that swung side to side during the bumpy rides. It slides open smoothly, green eyes and white bushy eyebrows gaze back with a softness akin to a grandfather.

“Where to, my lady?”

Clearing your throat, swallowing thickly, you toss the paper onto the seat beside you. Relaxing, you breathe deeply and take one final look at the museum, “take me home.”

“As you wish, my lady”

------

Your home was large enough to house a great family, yet only you remained. The halls were dark, two wings once occupied with life. Now, only a few rooms from each were used. The library was full of unread books, your laboratory untouched by your hands for years. Your office was where you mainly resided. In front of the windows that climbed up to your ceiling, filling the room with dimmed light that cascaded over the misty hills. The estate's walls were cold, its occupants bundling with layers to defend themselves from sickness. You’ve grown used to it, but your staff still wandered around with pink noses and thick shawls.

One member of the staff, Miss Aleena, was one of the few who remained. Her grey eyes regarded you with warmth, wrinkles and tired smile showing her years. She was slower, yet still refused to rest. She continued with her work day after day, and sometimes kept you company during her downtime. She made her way around your office easily, stepping over thrown books and crumpled pieces of paper. All to set a wine glass on your desk, though what filled it was not wine.

“Three animals today, my lady. Deer, fox, or rabbit?”

You hum, still gazing at the rolling hills. The glass was held together with silver framing, a thick set of curtains hanging from the ceiling and pooling on the carpeted floor. Holding out your hand, you wait until she picks the glass back up to set it into your hand. The surface was painted with flowers, all faded. You lift it to your nose, sniffing once before grimacing.

“Rabbit.”

She chuckles, reaching out to tap your cheek. You almost wave her away, but these were moments you rarely receive. To have another person touch you, human warmth was like no other.

Spinning in your chair, you set the glass back down and slouch, rubbing harshly at your eyes. Miss Aleena makes her way to the chair that sits in front of your desk, slowly descending with a huff. She doesn’t say anything, rarely does. Instead, she lets you fill the silence with whatever words you want. Her hair, salt and pepper, was pulled back from her slim face. Grey eyes comforting as they watch you, never judging.

“I’m not thirsty.”

You were lying, of course. The churning of your stomach was the dead give away, and she raises an eyebrow at you in retort. Slowly, you reach out to grab the glass once more, raising it to take a small sip.

Blood tastes different with each animal. Rabbit, for example, was sweeter than deer, yet more tart than fox. It starts as a treat, warm and inviting, until you swallow and are greeted with the kick at the end. Wincing, you groan. Shivering at the taste, you take another small drink. It was never good to drink too much at a time, you’ve learned the hard way.

“I don’t know why the gods forsake me,” you grumble, “I ask for a simple thing. One thing, yet time and time again I’m rejected and turned away. Something is always blocking this path, and for whatever reason, I cannot get past it.”

“Maybe it’s something you shouldn't pursue,” her timid voice responds, and you shake your head. Center of your lips stained red, you cross your legs.

“Do you know what it's like to live for 800 years?”

She smiles, “I know what it’s like for 73.”

“Its a living torture,” you smirk, and she hums. “I cannot sleep, cannot eat or drink what you do. I cannot fall in love, I cannot feel happiness-”

“And why is that, my lady?”

You huff, chest squeezing, “it is a fleeting thing, happiness, love. A human can love their entire life, and feel fulfilled by the end. Humans have the pleasure of an ending, while I live in a purgatory specifically designed for me. No matter how hard I try, I simply cannot die.”

You take another drink, looking over the small pile of papers still left on your desk. Requests and letters signed with black ink mock you, the dates in the top corners taunting.

“Tell me, then,” she requests, “when you’ve fallen in love.”

The question makes your shoulders tense, flashes of memories blinking past your eyes. Years upon years of memories, yet they all boil down to moments in your life.

“I-” you clear your throat, “I can’t remember what love feels like. I suppose feelings fade with time,” you look down into your glass, your reflection staring back.

Miss Aleena sighs, “my dear, I may not be as old as you, but I am still old. I know what love looks like,” she stands from her chair, brushing off the front of her dress.

“Indulge me, what does it look like?”

“It looked like that gleam in your eyes, my lady.”

Head tilting, you watch a smile creep across her face. Chuckling, you rub your thumb along the top of your hand, cold as always. Miss Aleena reached out, gesturing to your almost empty cup, “would you like a refill?”

You shake your head, and watch as she turns to make your way back to the door. Spinning, you turn your gaze back to the misty hills, how the sun tries to break through, and tries to wrap a golden blanket around the trees that border your land.

“Maybe I should just have you find me someone.”

Miss Aileena laughed, old and tired, she sounded like her mother, “I think that’s a terrible idea.”

“How so? You’re a great observer, and you follow my instructions without retort!”

“I don’t know much about science, my lady. If I were to bring someone in, you would find something inadequate.”

She was right, and you knew it.

The door opens, and a male voice clears his throat. You almost groan, instead you rest your elbow on the arm of your chair, supporting your head on a clenched fist.

“My lady?” It was Benedict, who’s voice matched his appearance. Silky and smooth, all fine cursive lines that dance across his body. You can hear his smile as he looks at Miss Aleena.

“Ah, hello nana,” he says softly, before the door creaks and he coughs.

“What is it, Benedict?” Nails tapping, your head rolls to rest against the chair. His body straightens, green eyes roaming over your desk. His cheeks were pink, and he sniffled before speaking.

“You have a visitor- I told him you didn’t take guests, but he was very adamant on seeing you.”

Your tongue lightly grazes your canines, feeling the sharp points. You can barely remember the last time you used them, opting for your kitchen to hunt and gather your drinks.

They, your hunter, would leave in the morning when the dew still clung to the grass. They’d gather enough animals to last the following week, put them in the freezer, and then go back to their home in the village. Of course, you offered housing here, but it only took them one look at the vine covered rocks to politely decline.

“How adamant?” You tease, hearing Benedict huff, his clothes rustling.

“He said he wouldn’t leave until he had an audience with you.”

“Hm,” you muse, using your foot to sway the chair back and forth slightly.

“Let him in, then”

Benedict nods, shaggy hair falling in front of his eyes as he backs from the room, heavy steps receding down the hallway. Miss Aileen’s heels click across the wood as she crosses the room, picking books up from the floor and setting them gently back onto your desk.

It takes a moment, but soon you can hear the incoming tap of a cane, and the hushed voices from beyond your closed door.

Hair raising, you refuse to turn in your chair as the door opens once more. Tensing, you can feel your chest clench until his voice tears through the room- assertive and commanding.

“You have to have a certain kind of nerve to accuse me of not being qualified enough to work under you.”

Your hand drops from your chin, hanging over the arm. Finger running across the tips of your nails, you refrain from sighing.

“What are you doing here, Viktor?”

“I simply find it unacceptable to push me aside and call me unqualified to work under you simply because of my status and ability to do what is required,” his tone is accusatory, anger surrounding him. Slowly, you find your eyebrows furrowing. Your head drops to the side, and you look at him from over your shoulder, chair slightly turned as to not hurt your neck.

His cheeks are flushed, eyebrows pinched together in anger as he leans against his cane. Miss Aileen stands to the side, eyes wide as she looks at him. His golden eyes falter when they meet yours, flickering between your dazzling gaze. When you turn the chair more, the sun that barely peaks through the clouds catches them, red shining through briefly.

It makes him shiver, how predatory your gaze was.

“Miss Aileen, please give us the room,” you don’t break eye contact, instead turning the chair so you face him fully. It gives him the charm to look you over, from your relaxed attire to the red tint that stains your lips.

Makeup? No, he thinks, your attire betrays the need for makeup. You were home, relaxed enough to not find the need for it. Eyes flicker to the desk, landing on the almost empty glass.

Ah, the wine.

“Say again?”

He huffs, feeling that anger flare in his stomach and he stands tall once more, why was he here? He didn’t quite know, following that gut instinct to follow you and prove that he was right for the role he still knew nothing about.

“I have worked too hard to get where I am today to simply be pushed aside due to prejudice from a person whom I’ve never even met-“

“You think prejudice is the reason for my rejection?” There’s a flicker of disappointment, a sadness that festers behind it. You sigh, rubbing at your eyes before sitting up in your chair, “Viktor, listen,” your voice is softer this time, sharp edge dulled.

“You want to create things, bring goodness to the world. My task is the complete opposite-“

“How can you come to that conclusion when you haven’t even asked me for my opinion on the matter? For a scientist, you come to conclusions rather abruptly.”

Shoulders sagging, you reach out and grasp your wine glass, the thick liquid-

Thick liquid?

Viktor watches as you take a sip, the sides of the glass stained a deep ruby red as it settles back at the bottom. It’s crimson, shining in the light and the true answer to what sits in the glass whispers itself in his ear softly.

“Is that blood?”

You smile, a sad tilt of lips, raising the glass in a congratulation before setting it back down. You push yourself from the chair, silk gown dancing around you like a breeze, it makes it seem like you are floating, gliding your way around the desk to lean against it.

“If it is? What would you do, Viktor?”

His breath catches in his throat, and he mulls over what he could possibly say.

“If I told you, my life goes against the natural order, would you believe me?”

Your hands brace behind you, feet crossing at the ankles as you regard him with a glint in your eyes. You're assessing him. Watching as his eyes flicker around you, watch as he tenses, jaw clenching. Watch as his hand grips the pommel of his cane just a little tighter, how he leans away from you.

“Since you think yourself qualified, I’ll give you my symptoms and you come up with a theory as to what I am cursed with,” you spit the words. Viktor finds himself nodding, going against his own natural order as you push away from the desk. Making your way to the tall book shelf that lined the walls, your fingers skin across the fabric spines of book after book. Shoes muted by the carpet, you move silently.

“I cannot sleep, I cannot get sick, from what you’ve just noticed; I drink blood.” Slowing, you curl your finger around the top of a book, pulling it gently from its place. It was almost fully black, silver edging flaking off. A red piece of ribbon, frayed at the end, was hanging from the top edge. A book mark ready for use, he guessed.

“I live longer than normal humans, and I cannot die.”

Silence, and you refrain from moving from the wall of books. You seem to fit in perfectly, a timeless beauty. Yet, as he looks away to gaze back at the cup of blood, he sighs.

“Common, Viktor,” you whisper, teasing, “you were so vocal earlier. What happened?”

“I shouldn’t have come here,” he murmurs, taking a step back because now you’re right in front of him. Holding that book out for him to take, “no, you shouldn’t have. Now, you have to face the consequences of your own pride.”

Hesitant, he takes the book, looking over the cover and when he registers the words sewn into the fabric he almost laughs.

“A vampire?”

“Mm,” you hum, crossing your arms as you make your way back to your desk, leaning back. He tilts the book, letting it fall open to a random page. He briefly reads over it, pictures hand drawn, cursive words in a foreign language underneath. The paper was tinged yellow, wrinkled on the edges like it’d been thrown into a bath of water and then dried again.

“An immortal scientist passing down knowledge through their apprentices, what an ambition,” he mocks your words, snapping the book shut and looking back up. You’re frowning, and after turning your upper body to grab the glass, you twist it to allow the little remaining liquid to coat the sides. Faded blue flowers in front of a wave of blood, you don't look at him anymore, shoulders slumped.

“I don’t teach them, I simply have a task for them to complete. In return, they’re given access to my abundance of gathered knowledge.”

“And what is this task I’m so unqualified for, exactly?”

“Viktor,” you sigh, eyes closing. He can feel his chest squeeze, and he breathes deeply before continuing, “how do you know I’m unwilling to help you?”

“Help me? Viktor, if you had the opportunity to create death, would you?”

“Death?” His eyebrows furrow, and when you nod he can slowly see the pieces falling into place. The book feels heavy in hand, his thumb gently rubbing across the indented words that title the front.

The Known Ways Of Vanquishing A Vampire

“I want to die, and I cannot touch the tools that will create it. I need someone to do it for me, so I’ll ask again; if you had the opportunity to create death, would you?”

His brain tells him to decline. His whole life, he’s sworn to help people survive. To bring them longer life, to cure them of the hindrance that plagues them. Yet, his gut urges him to look at you. To see what you truly looked like, he can see your fatigue. He can see how your shoulders slouch, how slow you really move. To others, you were a monster. A demon who comes at night to drink their bodies dry. To him, in the moment, he simply saw a woman cursed. Forever to wander, never to truly rest.

“Are you suffering?” His voice is quiet. Lips lifting, you nod once, “yes, Viktor.”

Fingers tapping once against his cane, his gut overrides his brain, and he speaks his decision into the air with a stern voice.

“Then I will help you.”

Although there’s hesitation clinging to you, you speak with a soft voice, “let’s get started then, shall we?”

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