#fingers crossed another 5-6 chapters to go

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 3: Poltergeist

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

3.8k Words

Warning/Notes: Ghost x Reader, a little of ass eating from Ghost, fingering, a bit mean Ghost, hair pulling, angst.

“Hey, Birdie.”

“Hey, Ghost.”

The two of you look at each other, each expecting the other to make a move. But since he doesn't seem bothered by the silence, you break it.

“Here for work or pleasure?” You ask opening the door as he chuckles.

“Well, that's not my choice.” He answers looking at you. “Half and half, I suppose.”

“Why is that?” You ask as you enter your flat, leaving the door open for him to enter. But when you notice he is not moving you turn to him. “Are you gonna come in or do I need to invite you like a vampire?”

You see the smile on his eyes (mainly because that's the only thing you can see of his face), and he impulses himself off the wall as he walks closer to your door. 

“And what would your neighbours think? A girl like you letting a man like me inside her house?” He asks cocking his head.

“Well, actually, I don't know if you have heard. But just last night my neighbour was taken by the police because turns out he was a terrorist or something like that, I'm not sure. So I think I am out of the competition for worst neighbour of the year, so, yeah, please c’mon in.” 

You hear him chuckle behind your back as you walk into your room, and a little later you hear the door close. Maybe calling it a room is a big stretch, your whole flat is a room. A small hall that goes from the door to where your bed is, a door on the hall to your bathroom and another one to your kitchen. 

Having breakfast in bed sounds great, but having lunch and dinner sounds a bit sad. But that's the flat you could get, and honestly, thanks to your neighbour's hobbies, at least you know the rent is not going to go higher.

“You know, jumping the wall on your balcony was ridiculously easy, you should probably get a lock for that window.” He comments looking at your window as he enters your line of vision.

“Then I would lose my deposit.” You answer sitting down on your bed to take off your shoes. You take off your jacket next and hang it in your closet. “Are you hungry?”

“Hmm, depends on what's the offer.” He says leaning against the wall again. He follows you with his gaze as you walk to your kitchen and open the fridge with a face. He chuckles when you close the door back and look at him. “Takeout?”

“Takeout it is.” You answer taking your phone out. “What do you fancy, Ghost?” 

“You know? Most people freak out when I get inside their house, don't ask me what I want for dinner.” He says crossing his arms.

“Should I freak out?” You ask looking at him with an eyebrow raised as you lend him your phone with the delivery app open. “Order whatever you want, I'm no picky. I'm gonna take a shower, if the food gets here there is money behind that frame.”

You point out the only frame on your whole house and walk into the bathroom. You try to walk with confidence, but once inside the room, you let a sight escape your lips.

When you said yesterday you were going to push Price and Kyle away, you didn't mean it as in pulling the rest of the team closer. 

This is bad, is mean and honestly, you must be on some weird week of your cycle where you are producing more pheromones than usual because you were chronically single for years and now can't seem to catch a break. 

You open the tap to wait for the water to warm up as you undress. Just as you take your shirt off your pants you notice you didn't pick your pyjamas, so you walk back out.

You see Ghost seated on your bed, back leaning against the headboard, feet dangling off the bedside and scrolling through your phone.

“You can take off your shoes, you know.” You comment as you pick up the plaid pants and massive sweatshirt you wear to sleep as well as your underwear.

“You are a sneaky one, you know.” He responds looking at you almost offended he didn't hear you exit the bathroom.

You chuckle at him and walk back inside the bathroom. The shower helps you calm your nerves, the man is in your bed, and he hasn't made any moves yet; probably because he is not into you, you need to humble yourself a bit. 

At some point you hear the doorbell and your stomach grumbles almost as a reaction. You quickly finish your shower, put on your clothes and walk back to the room. 

“Chinese?” You ask when you see the containers as he stays looking around. “Let me get the table out.”

You say winking at him when he looks at you confused and he gets even more confused when you kneel before him. You look up at him, laughing internally at what he must be thinking and then you get your nice arm under the bed and pull the foldable table under it. You take it out and with a shake, you unfold it, take your seat on the bed in front of the table and tap the bed next to you. “Have a seat.”

He sits next to you, his thigh pressed against yours and he takes the container out of the bags opening them. 

After a little, you decide to finally talk about the elephant and the room and ask: “So, did you just drop by in hopes I would invite you to dinner or do you actually have a mission today, Ghost?”

“Oh, yeah, about that. I actually had two missions today.” He says pulling his mask up so he can eat. You try not to stare at the little skin showing, but you quickly notice the stubble on his jaw. Blonde. “First one, finding out we're the girl from the captain's office was. That one was easy, thankfully cause the captain was freaking out. And the second one, figuring out why she left. That one is still ongoing.”

“And if the captain was freaking out why is it you the one that's on my house?” You ask looking at your plate, curious enough to ask but not brave enough to look.

“Cause he was scared the reason you ran away, was because of him or something he did. So he didn't want to make it worse.” He answers simply, you can feel his eyes on you. He bends down a bit to be able to see your face and ask. “Is that why you ran?” You shake your head. “Then why? It looks like you had fun.” 

You turn to him with furrowed eyebrows and notice that he is looking at your neck, you remember the lovebites and quickly try to cover them with your hand. 

“It was just…” you sigh. “I know when I am no longer wanted, and rather than make it awkward by making him drive me back or having to say bye I just… got out before he woke up.” 

“Hm, I still think you should talk to him. I’m pretty sure he wouldn't agree with you with the ‘not being wanted’ thing” He says doing quotation marks with a hand and taking his phone out to send a message with the other.

“He doesn't even know my name. Neither do you.” You almost mumble. I’m just another one on the list, you think. “I think he will be just fine.”

He winces as if he was in pain and says. “You a tough one, birdie.” He cleans off the rest of his plate and stands up. “You don't know my name either and you don't see me throwing a hissy fit.”

“I'm not throwing a hissy fit.” You say rolling your eyes.

“Did you… Did you just roll your eyes at me, birdie?” He says moving the table and standing between your legs. “Now that” He says pointing at your face. “That's a brat move.”

“I'm not a brat!” You try to defend yourself standing up, but as quickly as you get on your feet, Ghost manhandles you to be laying down on your stomach. He sits on top of your ass immobilising your hips and grabs your arm putting them behind your back leaving you unable to move. “Ghost, what the fuck?!”

“Language.” He says and you feel a hard slap land on your ass cheek making you yelp. “Are you going to behave or should I teach you a lesson, birdie?”

“What? What are you talking about? Get off me.” You mumble squirming under him.

“No, I don't think I will until you learn.” He chuckles as he begins to grind against your ass. He bends down to talk to up to your ears. “You should be grateful, that I found you and not Price. Do you know what he would have done if he found out you got back, walking, alone, in the middle of the night?” Three more hard smacks land on the same cheek when he sits up. “And that alone, without talking about the fact you were missing a shirt. And didn't even say goodbye. Not a phone number, not a name, nothing.” He lands two more on the same cheek and an even harder one on the other cheek. Leaving your arse burning and you wouldn't be surprised if it bruised, but still, the most surprising thing about the situation is that you can feel your underwear sticking to your cunt.

You truly are learning about yourself these days. 

He grabs two handfuls of the meat of your arse, pushing your cheeks together as he grinds with a grunt. Then he lets go, you hear the unmistakable sound of his belt being undone and it sends anxiety up your column. He must sense it because he says: “Calm down, birdie. I'm not giving you my cock until you beg for it, and only if you deserve it. And trust me, you don't.” 

He takes his belt off, aligns your forearms and ties them together behind your back. 

“Are you going to talk to Price? You can still leave unscattered.” He asks, putting his hands beside your head and leaning in to be closer to your face.

You look back at him from over your shoulder, face still push against your mattress, and try to look offended by how easily he got you tied, immobilised and horny. “I don't know.”

He makes the sound of a buzzer, like in the contest when they answer wrong. “Not what I want to hear, birdie.”

His index finger hooks the waistband of your pyjama pants as well as your panties, right above your ass and he pulls them down slowly. You hear him whistle as he pulls them down, feeling the cold hair of the room against your skin and against your glistering cunt. “I think I'm going to start by the desert tonight.”

He lands a loud smack on your naked arse, and when you try to complain, the sound gets strangled into a moan when you feel his tongue against your puckering hole. Getting your ass eaten by the mysterious masked man was not on your plans for tonight, but you are not complaining. 

You moan against the mattress, biting the sheets to try and conceal the sounds leaving your mouth. Your consolation, is the fact that you can feel Ghost moan against your skin, the vibrations travelling up to your nape giving you goosebumps. 

He gets his hands under your hips pulling them up, leaving you completely exposed. Ass up, face down, arms tied and knees together by your pants. He pulls back for a second to admire his job, you look already ruined and it's been less than a couple of minutes. 

You await, expectant, his next move, every single thought that was on your mind about how you should push him away and stand your ground, is silenced by the feral voices of your mind scratching the walls with the need for his mouth to be back on you.

“Look at you, birdie. Such a good girl all of a sudden. You are not a brat, you just need that attitude fuck out of you, right, doll?” He asks massaging your waist with both hands. 

“Fuck you.” You mumble, and Ghost lands a slap right to your cunt making you scream and arch your back to find distance from him.

“Language, birdie!” He says chuckling, amused with the situation. “C’mon, play nice, love. Are you going to talk to Price?”

His finger starts to travel up and down your slit, collecting the juices flooding from your cunt. He teases your entrance without getting inside.

“No.” You declared, tired of being played with.

“No?” He ask genuinely surprised. “Oh, I think you will.” He lands another hard slap on your pussy, right on your clit, and position his fingers so that when you arch your back again, you fuck yourself right into his finger. A loud moan escaped your lips at the sudden intrusion.

He raises his hand up to your nape, grabs your hair in a handful and pulls lifting your head off the bed. “I wanna hear you sing, birdie.” His fingers begin to move inside and out of your cunt making you groan softly, raising in volume as his tongue finds her way back to your ass.

You can feel his drool drip down your ass to where his finger is fucking your pussy, only adding to the mess. He uses the knuckle of his middle fingers to brush against your clit making you mewl and causing him to chuckle again. He can feel you clenching around his finger, and he pulls back to ask again. “Are you going to talk to Price?”

“No, fuck, no I won't.” You scream back. And immediately you wish you didn't. Ghost draws his finger back, and remains holding your head but otherwise untouched.

“Wrong answer again, doll. C’mon, tell me what I want to hear and I'll give you what want to get. Are you going to talk to Price?” He asks. “No!” You answer, and the hardest slap to date lands on your ass making you cry out in pain. “Last chance, birdie. Are you going to talk to Price?” He asks again.

You bite your lip, an inner battle going inside your mind. The stubbornness in you taking the lead, not even being reasonable, just stubborn. Another hit snaps you out of it. “Shit! Fine! Whatever, I'll talk to him.” 

“Good girl, birdie.” He grumbles against your ear as his fingers start to piston in and out of your cunt, the sting of the stretch by the second finger completely buried under the waves of pleasure. He keeps whispering pure filth onto your ears, unable to hear him over the ring of your ears caused by the stimulus on your weak point.

You feel drool drip down your chin into the sheets, but you can only focus on the tight knot inside your body. It's unfair how easy it seems to be for these men to make you come undone with barely touching you, it makes you think about those mediocre ex-lovers who would put the blame on you for taking so long to cum. Fuck them, these men, Kyle, Price and Ghost had you coming in minutes without even taking off their clothes.

Ghost brushed his knuckles against your clit again, and you can only moan his name before you are gushing over his hand. He helps you ride out your orgasm and slowly draws back his fingers. 

He stands up chuckling softly, you hear him walk into the bathroom, you hear the faucet open and close and then hear him walk back.

You feel the cold wet towel between your legs and it makes you jump off the surprise. “Sorry, you spend all the warm water, doll.” He says still snickering. He drops the towel on the table, pulls your underwear and pants up, takes his belt back and lies next to you caressing your hair. “Solid, birdie?”

You shake your head. “Pretty sure I'm liquid now, Ghost” You say absent-mindedly and rub your eyes as you yawn. He may have fingered the attitude out of you, but he also fuck the energy out.

“I think it's time for me to leave, thank you for the dinner, birdie. And for the desert.” He says, smiling at you. He lands a peck on your temple and stands up. “Lock your door when I leave. And talk to Price.”

When he turns his back at you, you roll your eyes standing up as well to close the door. He turns on his heels and looks down on you. “And don't roll your eyes at me, birdie. Don't give me an attitude. Lock the door.” He says and lights a cigarette as he makes his way out of the building. 

While you're are cleaning everything, tidying your room, getting ready to get into your bed when you get a message from a contact that is just a skull emoji. 

💀: Lock the door, birdie.

That's what you get for trusting him with you phone to order food.

“So she didn't say why?” Price asks Simon as he sits in the booth at the pub.

The both of them met there, a pub close to your house, Price too anxious to wait to get back to base to find out about Ghost’s discoveries.

“Negative.” Ghost answers setting the pints down. “She did make a great point, Captain.”

“Which is?” Price ask expecting

“We don't even know her name. Well, we do because of the background check we did to find her, but any of us have asked her.” Ghost responds. “And I thought you were the less hotheaded of the team, Captain.”

Ghost shakes his head as he laughs.

“Maybe try to talk to her when you are not saving her life? Maybe she will feel less overwhelmed then.” Ghost says taking his phone out to check his messages when he notices the vibrations. “Talking about the little bird.”

🐦: I told you I locked the dor

🐦: door*

💀: Awesome

🐦: ?

🐦: Go away, Ghost

💀: What are you talking about, birdie?

🐦: Stop messing with my door, I'm trying to sleep, you weirdo.

💀: It's not me.

💀: Are you sure it's your door and not your neighbours?

🐦: what neighbour?

💀: You and the terrorist are the only tenants on the building?

🐦: STOP MESSING WITH THE DOOR 

🐦: You are giving me the deposit money if you break it.

💀: I'm not at the door.

💀: Birdie?

💀: Don't ghost me now.

💀: Not on purpose.

💀: Birdie?

Ghost knit his brows at the lack of messages and look up to Price who seems lost in thought. “Maybe we need to save her again, Price. Your heart to heart talk will have to wait.”

7 minutes.

That's all it takes for Ghost and Price to reach your building. Guns in hands as soon as they saw your apartment door busted open.

Price felt his heart sink at the possibility of your being hurt, because of him and his inability to treat you the way he should. Waking up alone didn't hurt as much, he hadn't slept that good in who knows how long, and it was all thanks to the warmth of your body pressed against his.

So now, that only now has he found this comfort, the thought of it being ripped away from him before he could mend his error, was truly heartbreaking.

The nice thing about your house being this small, is that there is not a corner that remains unchecked. And still, you are nowhere to be seen.

But your flat is a mess. The dishes are broken all over the hall and kitchen floor, the fridge is leaning against the wall obviously having been pushed, your clothes are thrown all over the place, your mattress is cut out it's inside thrown around, your clothes mixing with the rest of the mess on the floor, and your wall…

“You will pay for your actions, whore.”

Can be read on the wall, big letters occupying the whole wall.

Your TV is missing, only the metal skeleton that holds it to the wall it's on is place. And your window is busted, that's when he sees it, a chair. On your balcony, as if it was used by somebody to jump.

Price walks up to the balcony so fast, Ghost grabs his shirt unsure of the Captain's plan. “She probably jumped to the apartment next door, Captain. Let's check it.” The younger says to try and calm the Captain. He nods and they both make their way to the apartment next door.

It is just as destroyed as yours, but still, no sign of you. They make their way back to your apartment and Price sits down burying his face on his hands.

Ghost takes out his phone again and he calls you, anxious waiting for you to pick up. But you don't, instead, a silly music begins to sound from under your bed. Tranquillity floods their senses, only for it to be destroyed when the only thing they find is your phone under your bed.

“Fuckin’ hell, birdie. Where are you?” Ghost asks out loud.

THUMD

Both men whip their to the sound, and come face to face with your closet. Now, one of the things you like about your flat, is the closet. Built into the wall. With a ridiculously small space on top of it.

Both men look astonished, as a hand starts to crawl his way out of the false ceiling of the closet. You pop your head next, and when you confirm is the two men and not whoever entered your house just a couple of minutes ago, you start to bawl your eyes out.

When you heard the people force their way into your house, you automatically got yourself into the space on the false ceiling in your closet. You stayed there, contorted into yourself and used every ounce on yourself to not make a noise. 

You heard how they rampaged your little home, how they screamed, how they destroyed everything.

It was merely a couple of seconds, but it felt like hours. And when you heard them come back for a second time, you were certain they would hear the beat of your heart. Until you hear what sounded like the sweetest desert on the universe, Ghost's voice, asking where you were.

The sheer fear that just saved your life, now turned you into a sobbing mess of tears and drool as you melt onto Ghost's arms once he holds you.

You feel Price's hand rubbing your back as he kisses your shoulder shushing you.

“It's all right, darling. We are here now. You are safe. No one is going to get to you now.”

Hii! 💗

Hoped you liked the new chapter, reader collecting these men like they are pokemon hehe wish that was me

Taglist: @pagesfalling @thevoidwriting @darkangel4121 @tf141glory @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @ghostlythots @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @xinyiline

[oval3000]

Chapter 3

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

(This might suck idk. I don't know German so it's all Google translate)

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He hasn't left his room for a month. They kept him in their with the straitjacket on. His meals are just vitamins that he has to swallow. You would go in to check up on him, but new orders from the administrator's to not go near at all, so you pass by his room. You would peak through the little window and see him laying on his back with little no to motion on his arms or body entirely. His psychiatrist, Dr. Smith is the only that goes in there. They have sessions in his room instead of the usual spot they have it in.

She was pissed at everyone, specifically you. You are her punching bag, even though it was Ben's fault. "Why hasn't he been given his meds!" She yelled at you.

"We are not allowed to go i-" you tried to explain your her, but she could care less.

"You are his nurse right! Your job is to give him his meds! How did you graduate when you can't even do that!" She yelled at you.

You plead for her to listen to you "I'm sorry, Dr. Smith. I can't it's Mr. Millers orders. No one can go in except you because you are his psychiatrist."

So she strolled her way to the administrator's office.

Ignoring his assistant from telling her that she can't go in. Slaming the door open to see him sitting on his chair, writing whatever cral he writes on paper.

"Sarah calm down!"

"Do you have any idea how dangerous he is, and you want me to deal with him alone! On top of that the lack of guards is making my job harder!" Dr. Smith argued with a hand on her hips and her finger pointing towards Ben.

"Do you remeber when you wanted a nurse to look after him." She rolled her eyes. Yes, you, the nurse. "Do you have any idea how much money is going towards her. Triple the pay for looking after him."

Her hands swing in motion, showing her frustration. "She can't even do her fucking job Ben!"

"If she's alive, then she's doing her job well. What's making this hard, is you barging into my office and telling me what to do when you are the one demanding this." He stood up from his chair, fixing his navy tie. "We're loosing staff. People don't want to go near him. Gabriel is threatening to sue the company. Gaurds are quiting left and right so sorry that there aren't enough staff attending your needs."

She crossed her arms with an annoying sigh leaving her lips tinted with red lipstick. "Then hire more people, I don't see the problem?"

"Did you not hear what I said" he walked towards her, standing toe to toe to her. "Majority of our budget is going towards (Y/n). She's been here for two months now, lasting longer than any other nurses. We can't afford another hire with the same pay to deal with König. Besides he hasn't actually killed anyone in those two months, I'll take that than dealing with someone who has a broken jaw from a simple punch."

"Then ask for more money." She scuffed like if it was a joke she said.

He laughed at her face, "Do you think the government cares to fund more for this place, I already have the staff on my ass for new medical supplies, do you think they are gonna hand me the budget to hire someone with triple pay just because you are scared."

"Then fire (y/n) and hire a new guard, maybe someone with military experience."

"Why would I do that. You came into my office, spreaded your legs cause you were so desperate for a nurse and now you want me to fire her. She hasn't done anything in particularly wrong."

"She doesn't follow orders!"

"She does, you just make it difficult." He came in defense.

"Wasn't she trying to stop you from putting him into a straitjacket?" She smirked while her arms crossed at her chest.

"Yes, and she was right. Putting him in a straitjacket does nothing. He was fine it's just that..." he closed his eyes taking deep breath.

"Just what?" She came closer to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, gently caressing it.

He turned his head to her, he used to lovy dovey with her seduction, but now it's more annoyance. "Eli, the other guard, came to my office the other day and told me that Gabriel was provoking König."

She rolled her eyes, looking around his office. Paying attention to the paintings hanged up on the wall and the light objects he has on his desk. "Like what? Making fun of him? We all make fun the people here what else is new?"

"I don't know the full details, but that's what he told me." He sat a bit on his desk.

"Why does that matter?" She shook her head without a single thought in her brain.

"Gabriel is threatening to sue us. If we fight the legal action, we'll have to defend König. König, just like any other patient represent us, our care. If they find out that Gabriel was the one that caused this, making König the victim it doesn't look good after we placed him in the straitjacket. Like we silencing him out. It will ruin our reputation, we'll all loose our jobs and you fucked your way up here for nothing."

"But he harmed a worker, beside murdered multiple people." She let out a little chuckle, placing her hand on his chest.

He didn't give in, instead, he gave her a stare. "He's ex- military and as for you being his psychiatrist, you'll have to speak on behalf of him. Meaning that people will find out about you, how you never studied to become a doctor you fucked every professor you had to get your degree."

"What are you saying, Ben." Her smile dropped.

"I won't fire (Y/n). She stood up for König, making us look like we care about our patients. As for Gabriel, all he's asking is for some 20,000 thousand dollars, which we can easily give him worth than standing infront of the judge. Which means that we can't afford new guards for you. Besides they're taking off his straitjacket today, so stop being so scared and do your dam job."

"I still think you should fire, (Y/n) atleast." She hummed, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I'm not doing that. Beside she's the only staff that doesn't barge in here demanding stuff. She nice and sweet...." he looked down to the side, " and...young and beautiful. "

She let go of his waist, clenching her jaw. Yes, you being so beautiful. "So what? You want to fuck her? Is that it. Never head young pussy before?"

"You should leave, I have work to do and so do you. This discussion is over." He walked to his desk, sitting down on his chair, unbutton his last few buttons from his dark, navy, blazer.

She stormed off his office, angrly stomping on the white tile floors with her heels creating a louder noise.

You heard the word going around that their taking of his straitjacket, so you quickly gathered what you need to check him up. You saw as the guards took off. He let out a big stretched, flexing more of his muscles. It caused a scare to the guards like a lion letting out a roar.

You walked up to and saw more of his face. He stared at you.

He missed you. He never thought he would miss you. During that month of not seeing you was a time he contemplated about you. Are you made for him or not. He will shut his eyes and images of you will pop up. You smiling at him. Taking good care of him. Watching you squirm under him as you take his full length cock inside your pussy. He'll treat you with respect as long as you do what he says that's all. Seeing your belly swell up with his baby. Can't wait to fuck your tits filled with milk. Can't wait to impregnate you with multiple of his children, making one big happy family. How protective he'll be for his kids, for you. To stand up to the bullies, to show them not to be scared of anything. To hold them if they cry.

He should kill you for making him react this way. He should just kill you. You are just another nurse thinking they have control over him. He use to give orders to people, being the colonel and all, he got the respect he fought for, why does he feel weak around you. You are so sweet and joyful to him. If he was back in the field and saw you, would he kill you. Or maybe fuck you. Maybe that's it. He hasn't done it in so long, so long he hasn't touch a women. He should've just fucked one of the other nurses. Yes, maybe he should do that. Fuck a nurse, just to see. I mean what's the harm in that.

"Aah...yes. right there ngh.... yes...oh fuck that feels good."

The sound of König's footsteps were low that they couldn't hear over the sound of skin slapping against eachother. Watching a men fucking his girlfriend on his bed.

"Does your boyfriend fuck you like this?" Slaming her ass back and forth on his cock.

"Ah....a-aah....he-..he could barley...make me- fuck!..mmgh....wet." She grip the bedsheets hard while he kept pounding her.

No. No. He can't. Not you. He can't. He can't betray you like they did. He can't imagine the face you'll make if you know he fucked another girl. No he should be pure to you. You should be the only one he touches.

He needs you. Okay, it's done. He'll make you his and you'll love him. You'll love him and care for him. Rather you like him or not it's done.

You wrapped the cuff around his bicep and squeeze the bulb reading the numbers on the circle, writing it down. Doing the usual things you have studied for. As you were checking his heartbeat, he reached up which caused you to flinch a bit. His index finger, gently, caressing your cheek. Your back was turned to the guards, making it hard them to see what's going. You stared at him as he touched you with such charisma. His thumb reaching to your chin, hovering over your lips. He placed the tip of his thumb on your bottom lip, gently pulling it out a bit.

You shouldn't have this feeling at the pit of your stomach. You couldn't tell of you didn't smack his hand away because you are scared or because you enjoy it. You never had this much attention, not like this.

"I don't have time to argue with you (Y/n)! Go to your room!" The little girl tuged at her moms shirt.

"Where's daddy?" She felt tears running down her face as her mother poured more wine into her glass, already finishing up the fresh new bottle.

"(Y/n)! Seriously go to room! You are such a headache! Why couldn't your father take you with him! Nauseating!" She dranked the entire glass, slamming the cup on the table.

"Where's daddy?" She said one last time not letting go of her blanket. The same blanket her father got her when she told him she was cold.

"HE LEFT! HE LEFT US (Y/N)! LEFT US FOR THAT BITCH! AND NOW I'M STUCK HERE WITH YOU. HE RUINED MY LIFE. I COULD'VE DONE SOOOO MANY THINGS! But no! I'm stuck to take care of a brat!"

He palmed your cheek, feeling your warmth. He went in closer to you. You could feel his hot breath, quicken as he got closer to your lips.

You pulled back, "I shouldn't- we shouldn't. I mean." You whispered to him.

"Mein liebling (my darling)." He whispered to you. The first time he spoke to you. You couldn't understand him, but he spoke to you. "Du bist mein (you are mine)." He pulled you closer to him, he didn't care if the guards were staring, if anything, he enjoys it. To show everyone that he is yours to touch. "Mein schatz (my sweetheart)," his lips were hovering yours, you felt a little tingle at how close he was.

You know this shouldn't happen. You turned your away from his. You walked back, feeling his grasp letting go. He stared at you witch a smile on his face. You saw the smile he gave you.

When your shift ended and went back to your apartment, the thoughts of what happened lingered into your mind.

That night, you couldn't sleep. He was in your dreams. What if you never pulled way. Were you really going to kiss him. You glazed over the parts where he touched you.

You searched the words he said to you to translate it. Sweetheart, darling, mine.

You felt the butterflies in your stomach again. You never felt so complicated before.

Having a crush on a patient.

You have a crush on König.

[mythicalmaven]

Beyond Boundaries • Oscar Piastri (PART FIVE)

Masterlist

Yes! You saw it correct! Time for chapter 5 already! <3 cant wait for chapter 6 already I tried something new this chapter & that was including some gifs in the chapter to make it a little more dynamic! It's just a little trial, so please let me know if you liked it or not, so that I know if I should include those more often :) So, just for the record, the chapter isn't finished after the gifs, it continues below the gif! :)

↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!reader (norris!reader) ↳word count: 4.2K ↳ parts: part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six ↳chapter warnings: jealousy, first kiss, smut, 18+ content (mdni!), oral (male!receiving), fingering, emotional rollercoaster, brothers teammate trope, bestfriend!reader

↳series summary: Since Oscar joined McLaren as your brother’s teammate, you two have quickly become best friends. Recently promoted to be Oscar’s physiotherapist, you both relish the opportunity to spend more time together. However, as the new role brings you closer, Oscar finds himself grappling with unexpected feelings and rising tension, leaving him conflicted about how to handle his emotions

The rest of the holiday went by excruciatingly slow, the interactions between you and Oscar have been limited, you honestly were pretty much unable to look him in the eye, until you were pretty much forced by your job duties. Which meant you both had to put on a straight face and be act like the professional ones. The first time you spoke about what happened during your shared holiday, was the Wednesday before the Australian Grand Prix. You both had to attend the driver's meeting that was planned. His initial behavior towards you was distant and cold, something you completely understand. You had been avoiding him and he obviously noticed that. 

Afterwards you had decided to take Oscar aside, asking him if he was okay with having a talk with you. It took you a few days to work up the courage to talk to him. You knew you shouldn't have avoided him for so long, he didn't deserve that treatment and you knew it.  The talk with Oscar resulted in a big relief and a reparation of your friendship, a friendship with maybe potential for a little more.

*flashback to wednesday*

The two of you were sitting on the couch in Oscar's drivers' room, both looking at the floor. Talking about what happened during the holiday and how you both felt about it. You apologized to him about the way you handled everything and how you treated him. It was a good and relieving conversation, both glad that you made up. Because the both of you honestly couldn't stand this a day longer.

"I missed you" Oscar mumbled under his breath "I've felt annoyingly incomplete these past days"

You rested your head on his shoulder "I missed you too, Osc" you murmured back at him "I missed our jokes, our silly little facetime calls in the middle of the night, our movie night. I've missed my best friend"

Friendzone, that's what Oscar felt himself getting pushed back into. He rolled his eyes, puffing out a frustrated sigh "Don't you think you should stop calling me that?"

You looked at him confused "What? Why?"  

Oscar raised an eyebrow at you, rolling his eyes "I think we both know we crossed that line the moment you gave me a handjob, don't you think?" 

You chuckled at him, laughing it off a little "It wasn't just me! You pleasured me too, you know?" 

Oscar threw his hands up defensively "Hey! You started it!" he joked back at you.

Another laugh left your lips "Sure, we went beyond boundaries, but that doesn't mean you can't still be my best friend?"

The Australian driver jokingly shot you a suggestive look "What if I don't want to be just your best friend?"

"Osc.."  you uttered "We both know we shouldn't go down that road"

"I know, and I agree that it's for the best if we don't, but it doesn't change my feelings for you" he said, verbally admitting his feelings towards you for the first time "I can't change the fact that I'm in love with you"

You looked at him, softly placing a hand on his thigh, trying to comfort both yourself and him. You wanted to kiss him, but you can't, you shouldn't. It tore you apart, but it was for the best. You found yourself unable to reply to his words, too overwhelmed.

"Just be honest with me please, do you have feelings for me?" Oscar asked, placing his hand on top of yours. 

You looked at him, his brown eyes meeting yours "Yes"

*back to present*

It was Sunday, which meant it was race day. The race took the least expected turn, which lead to Max not even finishing and Carlos securing another win. The whole ordeal resulting in your brother on the podium for a 3rd place and Oscar finished right behind him in 4th. To say that you were proud, would have been a massive understatement. Event though the boys themselves might be a little disappointed about not reaching the top step, you were over the moon. To celebrate Carlos' victory the drivers had decided to go to a well known nightclub in Melbourne. 

You were currently trying to convince Oscar to join the lot of you, which seemed to be a lot more difficult than you would have liked "Come on Oscar! You gotta come!"

Charles piped in, leaning on your shoulder "Yes! Listen to y/n! It won't be as bad as you think!" Charles exclaimed "And! Not entirely unimportant, those nightclubs are full of hot women. You cant convince me that you wouldn't enjoy having a little fun with a gorgeous woman"

"I don't need a random girl twerking on me, thanks. I'm fine where I am" Oscar replied a little uncomfortable. Yes he definitely would enjoy having a little fun with a gorgeous woman; but only if that woman was you.

Charles looked at him and rolled his eyes "Don't be a party pooper, Piastri" he joked, putting his arm around your shoulder, sending Oscar a little puppy dog face "Do it for us?"

"Fine" he huffed, finally giving in

"Yayy!" you cheered, jumping into Oscar's arms, hugging him enthusiastically.

—————⋆₊⁺☾⋆the nightclub⋆☾⋆₊⁺—————

A few hours had passed since you all arrived at the nightclub, one that was pretty private and today only allowed entrance to the drivers, f1 staff and their invitees as well as a few other high established guests. So to speak, it was safe for the drivers to have a fun night out without the media getting involved.

You couldn't deny you might have had a few too many cocktails, completely unaware of just how drunk you were. Oscar stood at the bar, a beer in one hand and the other in his pocket, watching you intently. His gaze was locked on Carlos, who was dancing with you far too sensually for Oscar's liking.

The music thrummed through the room, a sultry beat promising temptation. You felt Carlos's steady hand on your waist as you moved together, the rhythm guiding your steps. His touch was warm and reassuring, but your eyes kept darting over his shoulder, seeking out Oscar.

Oscar stood on the opposite side of the room, his gaze fixed on you. He watched every sway of your hips, every flick of your hair, the intensity in his eyes palpable. You met his stare head-on, a smirk playing on your lips as you leaned closer to Carlos, your fingers trailing lightly down his arm.

You saw the muscle in Oscar's jaw tighten, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Carlos was getting on his nerves today. If he wasn't driving him off the track, he was stealing the girl of his dreams. Yes, Oscar knew he was exaggerating the problem, but with too much beer in his system, he was extra annoyed.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" Lando asked, following Oscar's gaze. "Oh, that's what's bothering you," he chuckled.

Oscar and Lando's friendship had fortunately returned to normal quickly after the whole ordeal. After his talk with you, Lando immediately went to Oscar, apologizing for the situation. They discussed many things, including Oscar's feelings for you, which Oscar found incredibly scary due to his previous reaction. Lando admitted he had been too overprotective and childish. He told Oscar he realized he would always be protective over his sister, but if she had to date someone, it might as well be someone he trusted more than anyone, pretty much giving him a green light.

Oscar downed the rest of his beer in one go, almost slamming the glass on the bar, and ordered two shots. "I need more alcohol," he huffed.

"Oscar, she's single and drunk, it doesn't mean anything to her. She probably just wanted to have a little fun and Carlos was at the right place at the right moment" Lando laughed, knowing his sister well. "And besides, I can guarantee you Carlos isn't interested in her that way. They just like to flirt sometimes."

"Yeah, everyone but me," Oscar huffed, handing Lando one of the shots he ordered.

Lando laughed again, rolling his eyes. "That's your own fault, you idiot. You're the one standing by the bar instead of on the dance floor."

"I can't dance," Oscar stated simply, trying not to say too much.

"Mate, if you dance with her, she'll probably take the lead anyway," Lando began, running a hand through his curls, looking back at his sister. "And you're blind as well, by the way."

Oscar gave the Brit a confused look before Lando immediately opened his mouth. "Oscar, it disgusts me to say this because she is my sister. But she's literally undressing you with her eyes. Eww." Lando pulled a disgusted face before continuing. "She's been looking at you pretty much every few seconds. I know my sister; she's one hundred percent trying to make you jealous, mate."

"Even if she is, what am I supposed to do about that?" Oscar scoffed, redirecting his gaze towards you to see if Lando was right. "She's the one who told me we shouldn't be together."

"She said you guys shouldn't date; she didn't say anything about being friends with benefits, did she?" Lando said, pulling yet another disgusted face. "It's honestly downright revolting to talk about my sister doing stuff like that, but someone had to tell you because I'm going insane from all your pining."

While the two boys stood there, Daniel joined them, putting his arm around Lando's shoulder. "Lando is right, you know."

"See! Even Danny agrees!" Lando exclaimed.

Daniel laughed at Lando's enthusiasm, glad to see he made up his mind. "You could always give her a taste of her own medicine. Go dance with my sister over there," he said, pointing at the brunette dancing with Pierre and Charles. "Just whisper in her ear that I sent you and that you need to make Y/N jealous, and I'm sure she'll play along."

"Daniel, how do you expect me to do that? I have the social skills of a peanut," Oscar replied.

The two boys laughed at Oscar, finding it incredibly funny how awkward he could be. "Just go! Go with the flow, come on, live a little!"

"Ugh, fine," Oscar huffed, a sigh of annoyance leaving his lips as he walked off towards the crowd of people on the dance floor.

Lando looked back at Daniel, giving him a smirk. "Mint."

"It's funny to see how quick you turned around. I'm proud of you, though," Daniel told Lando, still leaning his head on the younger one's shoulder.

"Would be a little hypocritical of me, now wouldn't it?" Lando replied, turning around in Daniel's arms, giving him a quick, sneaky peck on the cheek before pulling away quickly to make sure no one saw.

"Honestly surprised she hasn't figured it out yet. We've been a little too obvious, no?" Daniel asked.

Lando chuckled, taking a sip from his drink. "And that's exactly why she hasn't caught on to it yet. I'll tell her eventually, though."

Meanwhile Lando and Daniel were talking, Oscar was already on the dance floor, his arms around Michelle, Daniel's sister. He explained his plan to her, which she replied to with a roll of her eyes and a giggle, but gladly agreed to. It felt wrong, horribly wrong. The alcohol was making it a lot easier, kinda served as liquid courage. 

"She's looking" Daniel's sister whispered in his ear, gliding her arms over his back.

 As the music shifted to a slower, more sensual rhythm, he pulled her close, their bodies moving in perfect synchrony. He whispered something in her ear that made her laugh, her hand resting comfortably on his shoulder.

You felt a sharp pang of jealousy twist in your gut. Carlos must have sensed the change in your demeanor because he gave you a questioning look. But you were too focused on the scene unfolding before you to offer any explanation.

Oscar's hand was low on Michelle's back, guiding her movements with a practiced ease. She looked up at him through her lashes, a playful smile on her lips, and he responded with a grin of his own, his eyes flicking to you for the briefest of moments. It was a challenge, a direct provocation.

Determined not to let him see how much it affected you, you pressed closer to Carlos, your movements becoming more fluid and seductive. You laughed at something Carlos whispered, but the sound was hollow even to your own ears.

Across the room, Oscar spun Michelle, his hand lingering on hers a fraction longer than necessary. He dipped her, their faces inches apart, and your heart raced with a mixture of anger and something you didn't want to name. When he pulled her back up, their gazes locked, and the air between them seemed as though it crackled with unspoken  tension.

But it was the look he shot you afterward, a look filled with defiance and raw emotion, that made your breath catch. The dance floor had become a battleground, each movement a strategic play in a game of jealousy and desire. And neither of you was willing to back down.

Carlos's hand slid up your arm, his touch gentle but firm, grounding you. "You okay?" he murmured, concern lacing his voice.

You forced a smile, nodding. "Yeah, just... caught up in the moment."

But as you glanced back at Oscar, now laughing with Michelle as if nothing else mattered, you knew the truth. The moment was far from over, and the stakes had never been higher.

"You're trying to make him jealous, aren't you?" Carlos whispered in your ear, a smirk growing on his lips. 

"Duh, obviously" you retorted, pulling the Spaniard even closer, your arms around his neck inching his face even closer to you. 

"Well, I think it's working. He's coming over" he spoke in a low voice "Keep your eyes on me until he's here, cariño" 

You tried your best not to look behind you, feeling the adrenaline surge through your body, nerves overwhelming you. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your arm, the familiar warmth of Oscar's fingers enclosing your upper arm, pulling you out of Carlos' grasp. You looked into his eyes, and before you could react, he cupped your cheek in his hand and smashed his lips to yours.

The kiss was fierce and urgent, a release of all the emotions both of you had been holding back. His lips moved against yours with a desperate intensity, and you matched his fervor, your hands flying to his shoulders, then tangling in his hair. You could taste the faint bitterness of beer on his tongue as it slipped into your mouth, and the sensation sent a shiver down your spine.

Oscar's other hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Your bodies moved in sync, pressing against each other as if trying to meld together. You tugged at his hair, eliciting a low groan from him that you felt reverberate through your own chest.

The kiss grew messier, more frantic, fueled by the alcohol coursing through your veins. His hands roamed your back, gripping and kneading, while your fingers traced the line of his jaw, down to his neck, then back up to his hair. The world around you blurred into nothingness; there was only Oscar, his touch, his taste, his heat.

Eventually, the need for air forced you both to break apart, but only just. Your foreheads rested together, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. His eyes were still closed, his lips slightly parted, and you could feel his heartbeat echoing the wild rhythm of your own.

Oscar's voice was a rough whisper as he spoke, "I've wanted to do that for so long."

You nodded slightly, your fingers still tangled in his hair. "Me too."

For a moment, neither of you moved, savoring the closeness, the shared warmth, the unspoken promise hanging in the air. The nightclub continued to pulse around you, but in that moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the world.

Oscar pressed his lips to yours again, more a short brush of your lips this time "Come back to the hotel with me? No strings attached" he proposed, his voice a little husky.

That's how you both ended up in the elevator, on its way to the floor where both of your hotel rooms were located. Oscar had pinned you against the elevator wall, his lips feverishly peppering your neck with kisses, unable to hold back. His hands roamed from your back to your stomach, slipping under your top to grab your hips, his thumbs pressing into your hipbones.

"I need you so bad, love," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and ragged.

"Fuck, Osc— I-I need you too," you moaned out, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer.

His mouth moved up to capture your lips in a searing kiss, tongues tangling with a desperation that made your head spin. You could taste the remnants of alcohol on his tongue, mixed with the raw desire that fueled both of you. Your hands explored his body, fingers slipping under his shirt to feel the hard muscles of his back, the heat of his skin.

Oscar's grip tightened on your hips, pulling you flush against him. The elevator hummed around you, but all you could focus on was the sensation of his hands, his mouth, his body pressing into yours. He trailed kisses along your jawline, nipping at your earlobe before returning to your lips with renewed hunger.

You arched into him, your back pressing harder against the cool metal wall of the elevator. The contrast between the cold surface and Oscar's fiery touch sent shivers down your spine. His hands slid up, pushing your top higher, his fingers splaying over your ribs as if trying to memorize every inch of your skin.

"Oscar," you breathed, your voice a mix of urgency and need.

He responded with a low growl, capturing your lips once more in a kiss that stole your breath away. One hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as his other hand gripped your waist, anchoring you to him. The elevator dinged, signaling your arrival at the desired floor, but neither of you moved, lost in the moment.

Reluctantly, Oscar broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily. His eyes burned with desire as they locked onto yours. "You okay with my hotel room?" he asked in a whisper, his voice husky with promise 

You nodded, unable to form coherent words, your mind still reeling from the intensity of the kiss. Hand in hand, you stumbled out of the elevator, anticipation thrumming through your veins as you made your way to Oscar's room, ready to lose yourselves in each other.

Oscar reached inside of his pockets to grab his keycard, fumbling with it to open the door. When he finally managed to open it, he pulled you inside with him. As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, Oscar pinned you against the wall, his body pressing into yours. His breath was hot against your ear as he murmured huskily, "I can't wait any longer."

His lips found yours in a heated kiss, his hands roaming your body with a desperate need. One hand slid up under your top, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist, while the other moved lower, slipping under your skirt. You gasped as his fingers brushed against your inner thigh, teasingly close to where you ached for him.

"Oscar," you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire. "You have no idea how much I want you," he whispered seductively, his lips grazing your jawline.

His fingers found their way to your core, slipping beneath the fabric of your panties. You moaned softly as he began to caress you, his touch both gentle and insistent. His other hand cupped your cheek, tilting your head so he could claim your lips once more.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "I need to make you feel good."

You could only respond with a whimper, your hands clutching at his shoulders as his fingers moved with expert precision. He circled your sensitive nub, then slipped a finger inside you, his thumb still working on your clit. The dual sensations had you arching into him, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

"That's it, love," he purred, his lips now trailing down your neck. "Let go for me."

He added another finger, curling them just right, and your world narrowed down to the feel of his touch and the sound of his voice. His whispered sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how beautiful you were, how much he needed you, how he wanted to watch you come undone.

Your body responded to his every word, the tension building inside you until it was almost unbearable. "Oscar," you gasped, your nails digging into his back.

"I've got you," he breathed softly, his fingers moving faster, his thumb pressing more firmly. "Come for me, love."

With a cry, you shattered around him, your body trembling as waves of pleasure coursed through you. He held you through it, his fingers still working you gently, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm.

When you finally came down, your forehead rested against his, both of you breathing heavily. He withdrew his hand, bringing it up to cradle your face as he kissed you tenderly, his touch now soft and soothing.

"You're amazing," he whispered, his voice filled with love and awe.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the physical pleasure. "So are you," you replied breathlessly, your fingers tracing his jawline "I need you to fuck me, Osc"

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I don't want to remember my first time with you as a drunk encounter against my hotel room door." he admitted, honesty evident in his voice.

"At least let me make you feel good then" you smiled at him, feeling a sudden boost of confidence taking you over as you flipped the two of you around, Oscar now being the one pinned to the wall. You send him a lustful look and sank to your knees, looking up at him with (not so) innocent eyes. 

Oscar let his head fall back against the wall, letting out a soft groan as he felt your hands explore his thighs. His hands moving to your hair, tangling his fingers in it. You fingers were moving extremely slowly, fully on purpose, trying to make the young Australian go insane. You carefully unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pulling it down his thighs. You used your teeth to pull his boxers down, causing Oscar to let out an almost embarrassing whine "Fucking tease" he uttered, his voice nothing but a rough whisper.

You lips traveled from his abdomen to his thighs and back, placing soft kisses everywhere, except for where he needed your lips the most. The sensation was electric as your lips met Oscar's skin, biting, sucking, and leaving a trail of marks in their wake.

Oscar tugged at your hair and moaned out loud as you finally closed your lips around the head of his cock, sucking softly. Your mouth felt even better than it did in his fantasies, Oscar felt like he was in heaven. He didn't want to feel like a teenager and cum too quickly, but the alcohol in his system and the way you worked your magic on him, caused the knot in his stomach to tighten quickly. Adrenaline and heat moving through his body, taking a tighter grip on your hair "Fuck, y/n" 

You licked and sucked, causing Oscar's breath to get caught in his throat. Tongue dancing over the sensitive flesh, coaxing a gasp from Oscar. Each movement sent waves of extreme pleasure coursing through his body, moans only growing louder every second. Unable to hold back the sound escaping his lips.

You then took his whole length in your mouth, your nose almost touching his abs, before releasing most of his member, except for the tip. You looked up at him through your lashes as you twirled your tongue against the underside of his cock "F-Fuck... wait" Oscar uttered, stumbling on his words, his breath coming out in ragged puffs. 

You pulled off him for a little while and looked at him, a little concerned "What's wrong?" you asked softly

 "F-Fuck, I'll come if you do that again"

A smirk formed on your lips, Oscar's dick disappears back between your lips. You bob your head up and down again, the rhythm pretty much perfect for Oscar. Another satisfied moan escapes his lips, right before you repeat your previous action, immediately feeling his himself get closer to the edge. He tried to pull you off his cock, but you refused, only sucking him harder, your eyes meeting his again. 

Oscar feels his orgasm washing over him in a way he has never experienced before, emptying himself in your mouth. You swallowed it all, before slowly pulling away, before you slowly rose from your knees, wiping your lips with the back of you hand. Your lips were puffy and red, your hair a mess. The sight of it almost enough to make Oscar get hard all over again.

—————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺—————

previous part | next part

Taglist @aceyalonso @saachiep81 @landosgirlxoxo @andruuu28

[beautifulplaceofyouth]

JJK FF/ ROYAL GUARD

CHAPTER ELEVEN | SERIES

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch. 5

Ch. 6

Ch. 7

Ch. 8

Ch. 9

Ch. 10

Ch. 11

When you keep bumping into your personal royal guard by accident not knowing he is your guardian angel

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook!fallen angel!royal guard! × fem!reader!virgin!princess 

Word count: 3k

Rating: 18+ smut

Genre + warnings: Fluff, smut, dirty talk, crying, tears of happiness, lap straddling, a lot of pussy fingering, biting, nipple play, Jungkook groans a lot, full nakedness, big dick!jk, a little bit of rough French, neck kissing, hard orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, guys :D) - she probably pregnant by the time he is done with her - upss - also mentions of marriage, paranormal romance, historical fanfiction, Kook being cold and mysterious, being his sexy self. Caring and possessive!jk! Really horny towards his princess, being a big seductive tease. A lot of swearing, cursing and a little bit of crying. The story isn’t real, just my imagination running wild so just enjoy reading!

Still waiting in Jungkook’s chambers, you nervously fidgeted, your fingers picking up stray pieces of your dress whenever your leg bounced up and down, unable to calm yourself.

This couldn’t keep happening!

Everytime you think about what happened in the forest, it makes you tremble with fear. Your palms feel sweaty and your heart is beating loudly.

What if something happened to him?!

What if they caught him?! If anything were to happen to him...

You shook your head violently.

Stop thinking like this!

Taking a deep breath, you sat straight in the chair, crossing your legs and resting your hands on your lap, trying your best to control your breathing.

Just then, the door opened revealing a servant, the lovely octopus Moe, bringing in another tray of food.

“My lady, you need to eat something. You can’t go on like this,” he said softly, afraid that he overstepped his boundaries,” The king will be back soon, don’t worry.”

You smiled at him, “ Thanks but I’m not hungry,” trying to convince him otherwise, your stomach decided to complain with a grumbling sound loud enough for him to hear and you blush with embarrassment, not believing yourself for making those kind of sounds.

He tries to hide his surprise with a polite bow and leaves the room when he finishes setting up your late dinner since it was really late, the darkness outside having already started to cover the entire castle.

A couple minutes pass by when suddenly, the door opens with a bang which caused you to jump in your seat. A familiar man enters the room.

His whole armor was covered in blood, his wings torn in some places with dried blood on them. The sight makes you gasp when he steps into the room, the door closing behind him with a bang in the same way how it was opened.

Throwing the sword on the carpet, he doesn’t even notice you sitting there by the window when he removes his face mask, revealing his beautiful face full of bruises and wounds, the right eye already forming a blue bruise on his left cheek.

A sob escapes your mouth, tears streaming down your face as you stand from your seat and hurry to him.

Grabbing his wrist, you run your fingers lightly along the purple mark that now appeared on his skin.

“Why are you here so late? Did you get attacked? Who did that?!” You asked frantically, not knowing how he even got injured like this.

Do magic beings even heal faster like from the myths?

Jungkook looks at you in surprise for a second before his expression melts into concern when he notices your teary eyes.

“Darling, please don’t cry. Everything is fine.” He says reassuringly.

Relieved, you put both of your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace, not caring whether or not you dirty your dress with his blood.

“I need to shower . You know I can’t stay with you smelling like blood,” he whispers, his warm breath hitting the side of your cheek as his chin rests on top of your head.

You nod, tightening your hold on him.

“Okay. But make sure to be careful. You can slip in there if it’s too slippery,” you warn him seriously and your words makes him smile at you, looking at you like you’re some wonder of the world.

“I will be extra careful and If I slip, I will call you,” he smirks with a teasing note in his promise to which you laugh and hit him gently.

“Stop making fun of me. I was worried about you when you went to fight vampires again. I thought that I will never see you again,” You said truthfully.

The corner of his eyes crinkled slightly in response, showing that he understood your meaning.

“Don’t forget who you belong to,” He says, caressing your cheeks with the tips of his fingers.

Then without saying another word, he walks to the wardrobe and takes out his clothes before leaving again.

Since he went to shower, you decided to clean yourself too since your dress had bloodstains. Taking the change of clothes, you went to the other bathroom , washing yourself as fast as possible.

Once you were done, you quickly dressed in your nightgown and walked to the bed where you lay down, staring into space, your thoughts still filled with worry.

The image of him fighting in the battlefield flashed through your mind again making you shiver uncontrollably. Why did you insist on going outside the castle if there’s danger?

With a tired sigh, you feel hot inside. Fanning yourself, you go to the big window with the balcony doors and open them wide, letting the fresh air enter the room, allowing your mind to be free of any doubts.

Trying to relax, you closed your eyes, trying to clear your mind. The last thing you wanted was to dwell on what happened earlier in the day.

After a while, you hear the bathroom door open and close softly. Not opening your eyes, your heart rate started to rise when you heard his footsteps approaching you.

He moved like a silent panther with soundless steps as it wasn’t him moving at all.

Feeling him behind you, Jungkook wraps his arms around you to nuzzle your neck.

“I missed you, princess,” he purrs, nuzzling your neck affectionately, pressing kisses against the spot between your shoulder and neck.

You hum softly in return, letting your eyes flutter shut and leaning into his embrace, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body and the smell of his cologne and fresh scent enveloping you.

“I heard that you were a bad girl for me while I was away,” he murmurs, nosing the shell of your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. His breath sends chills down your spine but he didn’t seem to mind at all as his lips brushed against your earlobe gently.

"It's my duty as your future husband and your king to punish my princess whenever she does something wrong," he adds huskily.

You feel confused,” What are you talking about?”

You feel him smiling against your neck,” You didn’t eat anything , so your body needs time to recuperate. I ordered Moe to bring you some food and a glass of wine and you haven't touched it,” he explains softly, rubbing circles on your back with one hand, the other hand resting gently on your hip.

You flush in embarrassment as you realize that he caught you. "I'm sorry."

"Don’t apologise. It’s perfectly normal to miss someone while you’re away,” he replies, his thumb brushing across the curve of your waist.

Your eyes widen as you turn around in his arms, your face only inches from his.

His eyes are blazing when he looks at you and the longer he holds eye contact, the faster you let your own drop down at your feet, too shy to see his intense stare directed at you.

“Now,now. Don’t be shy now, darling. I don’t bite,” he coos softly.

There is irony in those words because you both know that you have been bitten by him before so this sentence was necessary.

When you look up again, you lock your gaze on his black eyes, seeing his pupils dilate and his eyebrows drawn together with a sexy smirk on his lips.

Suddenly, his hands are grabbing yours, pulling you closer, his hot breathe tickling your face, forcing you to tilt your head upwards so he could kiss you more deeply.

Your hands automatically move up to his hair, holding onto him securely as he deepens the kiss; his tongue slipping past your parted lips and exploring the inside of your mouth.

Suddenly, he breaks off the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, still not breaking your stare.

“Are you still sore?” he mumbles quietly and you shake your head, trying not to giggle at his question, you were more than eager to feel him in you again.

Your hands roam through the soft locks of hair on the back of his head, slowly pulling him down until he connects his lips with yours again, kissing you passionately, his tongue invading your senses. His hands roam the rest of your body, leaving heated trails everywhere they touch.

His lips trail down to your jawline, grazing his tongue over it teasingly before biting the delicate flesh there. Making you moan in pleasure, you grab handfuls of his hair, tugging playfully.

His mouth moves from your jaw to your collarbone, sucking hard as he bites your skin once again, licking the area tenderly before moving his mouth further, finding the perfect place to leave a wet hickey under your collarbone.

Panting, he lifts himself from your body, giving you no choice but to open your eyes to look at his beautiful face as your eyes traveled down to his bare chest.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers with a sad little smile as he looks straight into your eyes.

Your heart clenches painfully as you take in his state.

“What do you mean?” You ask confused.

He shakes his head,” I have blood on my hands and you still let me touch you. If I wouldn’t be the king or your guardian angel, we would never be this close. You would never have been mine in the first place,” He says brokenly.

Your eyes welled up with tears at his confession as you couldn’t believe what you just heard. You knew how he feels towards you and it kills you to see him like this because you love him.

Tears roll down from your cheeks as you wrap your arms around his neck, your eyes locked with his.

“But you are my king, my guardian angel, my guard, my everything. And as long as I have you, nothing else matters. That includes blood and death and being forced to watch you kill anybody who threatens us or our family. We need to protect them and knowing that you try to protect me despite facing danger, that’s enough reason to marry you,” you confess with a small sob, burying your face into his neck.

He lets out a chuckle in disbelief, pulling you even closer to him.

“I’m glad you see it that way because I can’t wait to make you mine and you to finally be mine forever,” he replies happily as he pulls your face back to look at him.

Lifting a finger to wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks with such tender care, you smile at him.

“It’s me who doesn’t deserve you. You’re perfect man to be my husband,” you say lovingly.

Jungkook’s expression from warm to serious,” You make me do things to you if you keep saying these kind of sweet words , Y/N. How am I supposed to resist you now?”

You laugh at that and lean forward to press your lips to his as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer.

Before you can stop him, his hands lift you by the waist and he carries you onto the mattress, settling you in his lap, one of his hands traveling down to your leg while the other is holding you firmly around your waist.

Your eyes open wide in surprise at the sudden move and you feel him grinning at you wickedly before placing his lips against your neck again.

Your legs automatically wrapped themselves around his torso, pulling him closer to you.

Your eyes fall shut tightly, overwhelmed by his loving touches and his soft kisses on your skin. You couldn’t help but melt under his ministrations.

“My queen, look at me,” he says quietly as he kisses your neck again.

Slowly opening your eyes, you find him gazing right at you with love filled eyes,” Look at me when I speak to you. You belong only to me and nobody else. Only me,” he declares.

Tears form in your eyes as you blink at him, feeling overwhelmed by his passionate declaration. You nod silently with tears filling your eyes.

His lips brush against your cheek softly as he brushes his thumbs on your tears, “I’ll shower you with affection everyday if it means that you don’t cry anymore.”

You let out a small laugh,” It’s tears of joy that will make me cry. I won’t stop crying. Because I’ve already cried enough times tonight alone,” you tease him slightly.

“No. No more tears. Not after tonight. You won’t get rid of me that easily,” he states, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Leaning down, your gown’s right strap falls of your shoulder to reveal your pale flesh and even further when your breast is revealed completely. Your blush darkens and you bury your face in his neck.

His sharp breath makes you moan when he gets a clear sight of your bare nipple. Kissing your neck, his tongue hits your sensitive spot as he sucks your hardened tip lightly, making your knees weak and hands clutching on his hair.

You whimper softly, letting out small noises of pleasure as his lips travel lower down your body.

‘God, what is he doing?’ you think to yourself, your breathing growing heavier with every passing second.

Before you can question him, he slides your gown up your thighs till your bare pussy is exposed to his hungry eyes.

“Jungkook-!” you exclaim breathlessly, your whole body tensing up with nerves and anticipation, anticipating his next move.

“Shhh, don’t talk. I haven't stopped looking at you,” he murmurs huskily before lowering his face towards you.

Kissing you on the lips, he traces a path with his finger to your entrance. You let out a gasp and he immediately takes control, thrusting in two fingers. The burning sensation shoots straight to your clit making you arch your body upward, making him groan loudly against your ear.

“Breathe. Just breathe for me baby girl,” he breathes out harshly as he continues to finger fuck you slowly but steadily.

You can’t help but to whimper as his fingers are moving slowly inside of you, driving you crazy.

His tongue then slips inside your mouth, his fingers still moving inside you, causing you to let out another low moan as his mouth covers yours aggressively, thrusting inside of you relentlessly.

Bucking your hips against his lap, you felt his erection pulsing under your ass beneath that towel. Since he was in the shower, he didn’t put on any clothes on.

Moaning from the pleasure, you could only hold on, almost to the point of pain, not knowing how long will you last.

“Jungkook, Oh, Jungkook,” you pant against his lips and then your guard lost it, seeing you so close to orgasm.

Ripping the towel off his body, there was a second of silence, only your harsh breathing was heard in the room when he

enters you roughly. Your eyes flutter closed in shock before opening back up when you realize how deep he was.

The sound of air hitting your ears was the only thing you could hear as he began thrusting slowly into you, stretching you in all ways possible. The feeling of his thick muscles squeezing around your insides sent waves of arousal shooting through you and soon you were moaning into his lips as his thrusts became harder and harder.

You were coming apart at his touch. Your toes curled in pleasure as your body shook in his hold, your nails digging in to his shoulders as you came undone.

Jungkook moans loudly as he watched you come undone in front of him. His own orgasm was approaching quickly too.

Enveloping you with his wings, you see only darkness with his eyes glowing white,” Oh, my God! Oh, god, oh, god..! Yes! Fuck!” You scream out loud, feeling his hard cock hit the spot in you where you needed him most. As you start to tremble with pleasure once again, your eyes widen realizing that you couldn’t take a break,” Oh, yes, yes…” you don’t know how you even lived without this feeling before but you can’t stop thinking about him being here, now, with you, giving you pleasure like nothing you had ever experienced before.

Jungkook was beyond thrilled at the sight of you. Every time you came undone at him it was the best feeling in the world.

Taking your throat, he hits the spot deeper when your eyes roll back and you almost pass out.

“Fuck!” He growls, not even stopping when he finds his own realise.

There’s so much seed that you feel it spilling on both of you which causes your vision to blur for a moment. A small gasp escapes your throat as you come undone yet again, making you moan in pleasure.

After you finally finish your climax and your walls start feel sore, you slowly sit up on his lap, your hand on his chest.

Jungkook watches you intently, his gaze so hazy with lust and love, it’s almost scary to see him looking at you like that.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest.

“I will arrange a priest to come to the castle tomorrow,” he murmurs against your ear.

“For what?” you ask, not understanding his purpose.

“To marry you, of course. I want you to be mine forever,” he answers and his voice sounds rough and strained, like he has been running for miles.

From his words, your walls clench around his cock and he groans, burying his head in your neck,” You like that, baby? Knowing that you will be my wife,” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin.

Licking your wet skin, he lets his teeth nip softly at your exposed shoulder and you let out a soft moan as goosebumps cover your entire body.

“Yes.” You whisper in return, tightening your grip on his muscular shoulders and pressing yourself to him,” I would like that very much.”

“Then it's settled. We shall get married as soon as possible,” he mutters into your ear.

You smile happily before leaning closer and placing a quick kiss on his jaw,” Okay, husband.” But not before you bumped your nose against his.

Your guardian angel only smirked," We really need to stop bumping into each other."

Be continued…

p.s. All images and gifs are not mine, some of the edits are mine edited but not every picture. All the credit goes to their rightful owners

DO NOT REPOST THIS WORK AS YOUR OWN BECAUSE THIS IS THE ORIGINAL OWNER’S STORY

If you like, please reblog or like the post so I can post the next chapters :)

🅒 All rights reserved

[back2bluesidex]

Where Do Broken Hearts Go (18+) - Masterpost

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, drama, eventual smut, fluff. 

Warnings: mentions of infidelity, mentions of cheating, broken relationship, reader is suffering so bad, pining, more will be added to each part. 

Word count: will be mentioned in each part. 476 for the prologue.

Listened to: Where Do Broken Hearts Go by One Direction

Taglist requests are closed!

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: First of all, Happy birthday to Jungkook. Secondly, I finally grew enough balls to start another legit series after a damn year. And obviously it had to be angst. Hope you guys like this attempt of mine.

Disclaimers: Pictures are taken from Pinterest.

Chapters:- 

Prologue || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

Drabbles: Daydream, Incognito

Prologue under cut

“No. No. This is not true. This is not true.” Your murmur under your breath. Clenching your phone hard, you try to keep your breathing stable. 

“Calvin Kline Ambassador Jeon Jungkook is rumored to be dating actress Han Jiwon.” you read the headline again and then dive into the article. It explains how your boyfriend had been seen leaving his hotel with one of the most popular actresses of the industry. 

There is no mistake, it is Jungkook indeed. You would recognize his bunny features even in your deep sleep, no matter how many hats and masks he uses to conceal his identity. In the picture, he is tightly grasping the hands of the actress as both of them are caught by the camera. 

The picture was probably taken last month during Jungkook’s overseas schedule. He didn’t mention having a “friend” over there. He never mentioned anything about meeting Jiwon there. But again, he hardly ever mentions anything anymore. 

You put your phone upside down. Inhaling a deep breath, you shut your eyes. 

Your body feels heavy, your heart twists in a fear of uncovering a truth that will leave you broken, will leave you stranded on a lonely island all by yourself. 

You knew he was changing, you knew he was drifting apart, you know he doesn’t look at you with the same glint in his eyes. You know it all and yet you kept your fingers crossed. 

A tear rolls down your cheek and you gulp the lump that formed in your throat overtime. 

The door lock chimes in signaling someone has just punched the key-code. You know who it is but you stay in your place, eyes closed. 

Soft thud of foot-steps echo in your otherwise silent apartment. You still don’t budge. 

He slowly walks closer to your body, stands right beside you, and places a hand on your shoulder. 

“It is not what you think it is, Y/N” Jungkook speaks with a barely audible voice. 

“I know.” you reply while standing up from your seat. 

“I didn’t cheat.” he explains again. 

You come face to face with him. His face bears no sign of discomfort, pain or guilt. It’s just… blank. His eyes are so blank that you think he is actually sorry for not cheating on you. 

“I know.” you offer again. Walking forward towards your boyfriend, you wrap him in your embrace but… he doesn’t hug you back immediately. 

When he places his hands flat on your back, not totally wrapping you up the way he used to, you know it. You know it’s gone. 

The familiarity of his warmth, his scent, the feeling of being home, is gone. Even if your body is touching his, you know he is actually miles and miles away from you. And you have doubts if he is ever going to return or not.

--

Taglist:-

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel

[swiftholic-13]

The Season's Scandal Chapter 6

pairing → Eloise Bridgerton x Female Reader

summary → Y/N and Eloise are finally exploring their feelings for each other.

warnings → none

words → 1.7k

masterpost chapter 5

A few long minutes went by. My fingers still lost in her hair and her body pressed against mine. I never wanted this moment to end, but I knew it had to. I took a last look at her as I started to slip out of her grasp. I slipped away from under the covers and started dressing myself up as far as possible. My hair was a mess and I could not get into my corset and gown all by myself. I opened the door and peaked outside. Luckily, nobody was there and I was able to call upon one of the Bridgerton servants. She looked surprised as she observed the scene and I payed her a lot to keep her silence.

She helped me getting dressed and to get my hair and make-up back on track as much as possible. She left after fixing the last bits on my hair. Before leaving the room, I took a last look at Eloise. I sat down next to her sleeping form. She looked so peaceful and I wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed with her. I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead “goodnight my love”.

I rushed through the hallway hoping nobody would see me leaving Eloise’s chambers. As I took another look around I bumped into somebody. I gasped and looked up in shook. Luckily, it was only Victor. He did not seem pleasantly surprised by bumping into me. “Where have you been?” he asked quietly, still looking around in fear. His eyes fixated on my hair and he noticed how different it was from when he last saw me. His questioning eyes caught mine and he let out a long breath “Do not tell me you were in Miss Bridgertons chambers” I did not answer his question and tried to flee from his gaze. “You need to be more careful, people could see you!” he hushed. “It was not what I had intended ” I assured him. We got interrupted by another pair of footsteps approaching, my mother. “What are you doing here?” She asked in an angry tone. “I-” “Miss Y/N was not feeling well and I sent for a carriage” before I could come up with an excuse Victor saved me, once again. My mother shook her head and came closer to me while inspecting my face “You cannot just disappear”. My mother shook her head once again. Her disappointment was quite obvious “Thank you Lord Abery” she nodded towards him as she took my arm and pulled me off. We found a less crowded way out and into our carriage. On our way back home she did not say anything, she did not even look at me.

————————

The next morning, I got ready to leave the house and pay a visit to Eloise. My mother was already awaiting me in the hall to prevent me from leaving the house. I did not pay any attention to her and put on my gloves. “Where do you think are you going?” she asked me with her arms crossed. “Visiting a friend” I replied, trying to move past her. She stopped me in my tracks “What did I say about friends?” she hissed at me. “Now that I am engaged I did not think you care” I said brushing past her as her eyes widened in shock. She walked after me as we arrived outside. “And you did not care to tell me this?” “You have not asked me” “Oh I do not have to ask you anything, I am your mother” I nodded and shook my head in disbelief as I entered the carriage prepared for me and drove off.

I could not help but smile as my carriage arrived at Bridgerton house. On the other hand I was a bit nervous. Maybe Eloise regretted what has happend, maybe she did not care for me like that or maybe she did not like it at all. I had to stop myself from overthinking and just go for it.

When I entered Benedict greeted me and sent me upstairs to Eloise’s chambers. I thanked him and went straight towards her room. I knocked softly and her voices answered “Come In”. She was sitting at her table writing something in her journal. She turned around and her eyes lit up as she saw me. She jumped up and wrapped her arms around me “Y/N” she nuzzled her face into my neck and I could feel her smile on my skin. All my worries washed away. feeling her in my arms was still magical. She slowly loosened her grip on me. Her right hand wandered down my arm and took my hand in hers. She intertwined our fingers as I whispered “I missed you”. She smiled again and closed the distance between us. Her lips gently moved against mine in a soft kiss. We parted and I could not stop myself from blushing. She turned around and closed her journal still laying on display. “What were you writing?” I asked her as I stepped closer and wrapped my free hand around her from behind, pulling her closer to me. “about you actually” she replied as she let go of my hand and spun around in my arms. I raised my eyebrows in interest “You shall not read it, just yet” she replied and pecked my lips once more. "Does it capture the moment you fell for me?" I asked, teasing her. She blushed and a smile escaped her lips "I fell for you the moment I met you" she replied, trying to flee my gaze. I pulled her closer to me "How romantic". She rolled her eyes and pushed herself off me. “Shall we go outside for a bit, the weather is splendid” she asked me and I nodded, unable to take my eyes of her gorgeous face. She took my hand once again and pulled me out of the room.

Benedict decided to accompany us on our stroll. It was uncomfortable at the beginning but Benedict was a delightful presence and It did not stay that way for long. Benedict was definitely my favorite of the bunch. He was funny and unserious and definitely different from every other man in the ton. Eloise also seemed to like him the most among her siblings. We walked close to one another and her arm was resting on mine. It was the only way I could show my affection for her out here. My eyes were set on her for the whole walk, which Benedict probably noticed after some time. Later Eloise excused herself for a moment and I was left alone with Benedict. Benedict cleared his throat and took a step closer towards me. “I must ask you about your intention with my sister” my eyes widened and I looked at him in shock “What do you mean?” ”Society may not tolerate such behavior but I see you two and cannot help but wonder what it is that you feel for her” I looked down thinking about what to answer. He already knew so it was to late to call it a lie. “Your sister is very dear to me” “Promise to never let harm come her way” He said in a sudden seriousness. He deeply cared for his sister. “I would never” I assured him. We shared a silent understanding and I was relieved that he asked no further questions about the nature of our relationship. Eloise returned and slid her arm back around mine “Everything alright?” she asked as she noticed the silence. “Yes my dear” I replied, smiling at her and we continued our walk.

After a long day with the rest of the Bridgerton family I decided it was time for me to go home. Eloise escorted me to my carriage. “Thank you for the wonderful day” I said and she smiled at me “Shall I come and visit you tomorrow? your mother seems on rather high spirits lately” she asked me. “I would like that” I answered smiling. Her hand found mine. I looked around, but it was too reckless to kiss her right here, right now. We said our goodbyes and I drove back home.

————————

The next day Eloise came to my house pretty early. I rushed downstairs as I saw Eloise talking to my mother. My fear of what she said to her grew fast and I decided to step up. “Eloise” I greeted her as I grabbed her hand and rushed with her to our library, leaving my mother behind. I closed the door behind us and released a long breath. “What did she say?” I asked, trying to cover my fear. “Nothing really, she just asked me about my name and when I am to be married” she said rolling her eyes “You were truly not exaggerating when you spoke of her”. We both laughed and I pulled her closer by the hands. “You look beautiful” I whispered. She chuckled and started stroking my hands. She leaned forward and kissed me lightly. After a comfortable moment of silence, she started to look around and took in the huge room. Eloise walked around and took a look at the many different books located in the various shelves. “Most of them have never been opened, my family does not care for literature” Eloise shaked her head in disbelief “How can one not enjoy reading?” “I do not know” I sat down on the long sofa located at the opposite side of the book shelves. I could watch Eloise´s graceful form wandering around, inspecting the books with accuracy.

eventually, she picked a book and returned to me. She sat down next to me with the book still in her hands. “Will you read it to me?” I asked her. She looked at me while studying my face. “Sure” she replied and made herself comfortable. She laid down beside me, resting her head on the back of the sofa. I took my place next to her and wrapped my arm around her waist. My head rested on her chest. I inhaled her scent as her left hand stroked my hair gently. “I need to speak with you about something.” I told her in a more serious tone, deciding it was now a good time for a talk. I still have not told her about Victor and my true reason for the engagement. “shh” she hushed me “We will discuss this later” She gently pressed her lips to my forehead. Soon she retrieved her hand from my hair and opened the book. As she started reading I could not help but to smile to myself. Her voice was calming and the sound of it sent goosebumps down my skin. I closed my eyes while I listened to her steady heartbeat. Everything was perfect and I would soon have dozen off to sleep in her calming presence.

If I am sticking to my plan we are about halfway through the story now There is still so much to come and I cannot wait for you guys to read It. I will try to post the next few chapters soon and as always I hope you enjoyed It

taglist:

(comment If you want to be added, also make sure to turn on mentions)

@mmmunson @kenzieisgone @morgannope @greattidalwavedinosaur

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 16

We are really getting down the end here. I think I have two or three more chapters to go and then it's complete. There's a lot that happens at the end so don't know how long it will take but it's looking like chapter twenty will be the last.

So thank you to everyone who's stuck it out this long. I know there aren't many anymore but I love each and every one of you who did.

We get more clues and Wayne runs afoul an ex.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

~

Nancy chewed her lip as she flipped through the pages of the Hawkins Post trying to find anything that would spark her memory, but she was coming up empty. She was sure that there had been something that happened before Steve’s parents died.

“You know...” Wayne said gruffly after about an hour of them researching manticores, “you could just ask me. I’ve been around this town since it’s inception. There is very little I don’t remember.”

She let out a frustrated huff. “I just don’t remember when it was so I can’t even do that. It’s just this vague memory of there being an uproar in the pack. Which considering the upheaval this pack has had in the last twenty years, that really doesn’t narrow it down at all.”

Wayne clasped his hands over his mouth and looked at her for a moment. “You’re thinking too broadly.”

Nancy looked down at the newspaper in front of her with a frown and then back up at him.

“What do you mean?”

He laid his fists on the book in front of him and leaned forward toward her. “You’re what seventeen-eighteen?” She nodded. “It’s something you saw. Which means that it can’t be something longer than fifteen years ago as you’d be too little. But most likely it was probably closer to twelve or thirteen years ago as that’s when your core memories form. So what happened in the pack a dozen or so years ago?”

Nancy’s eyebrows furrowed deeper as she cast her mind back. She jumped up out of her chair and ran over to the side. She started scanning the correct year and pulled out another folio. She hurried back to the table where she began flipping through the pages like a woman on a mission.

She cried, “Eureka!” and turned it around so Eddie and Wayne could see.

May 23rd 1975

The Great Chicago Pack Has Announced the Banishment of One Dr. Alexei Oborin.

The former scientist had claimed that the five teenagers he found in the woods near the pack’s compound were hunters and that they attacked him first. However when other members of the pack arrived there were no signs of a struggle, only the mangled corpses of the three boys and two girls.

...

The article went on further to explain that the five teenagers who were traveling cross country were merely high school students who had wandered too close to the pack compound.

“This!” she cried when she was sure they had read enough. “It really spooked Hopper because it sounded like what had happened here, with Steve’s mom.”

Wayne nodded and looked up at Eddie who nodded too. He slid it back over to her.

“I remember that,” Wayne said, gruffly. “His mate swore up and down that Alexei was too gentle and childlike to have committed such things and that the kids must have goaded him into it.”

“What happened to the mate?” Eddie asked, jumping off the table and landed deftly on his feet, soft as a kitten. “The article didn’t say.”

Wayne shook his head. “It was never said, but most mates will willingly leave the pack to travel with the Banished One.”

“Banishment is such a big deal,” Nancy said, tapping her fingers on the table, the clack clack on her nails hitting the wood loud in the now quiet space. “It is reversible but only an alpha can do it.”

“It is,” Wayne agreed, “and it’s a shame that Steve had even threaten it to get the older members of your pack to behave.”

Nancy opened her mouth to argue but Eddie scoffed cutting her off without a word.

“You purebreds are all the same,” he muttered darkly. “Vampire, werewolf doesn’t matter. You can’t see the worth of anyone bitten. So sure that you are better than them. Steve’s half and as far as your pack is concerned it’s the wrong half. But he’s the only one standing between the pack and its annihilation at the hands of the vampire coven. And worse you have a fox in your hen house and it galls you that not only did Steve figure there was one, he figured out who it was and has been keeping him on a short leash. All without your help.”

Nancy glared at him, but he refused to blink, forcing her to look away first.

“You best see to the happenings in your pack, missy, before you go casting judgment on us.” Wayne growled. “You came in here like you owned the place, was rude to my nephew, and barked at me for offering to help. If Ed or I had been watching your moon night, we might know a hell of a lot more than we do now and I wouldn’t have to call in a favor from the last person I ever want to see again. And I know it was you that drove the final nail in the coffin of not having one of us there, so don’t you act high and mighty with me.”

She ducked her head and put her hands in her lap. She knew they were both right. It was the pack’s prejudice against vampires and outsiders as whole that had caused the incident unfold the way it did.

The key to this mystery lay in the incident with the hunters but she couldn’t figure out how.

“I’m sorry,” Nancy muttered, picking at her nail polish. “I just don’t know who to trust.”

Wayne scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, you do. You just need to put away your pride to do it.”

~

Eddie and Wayne walked out of the library squinting into the blaring sun.

Eddie chewed his lip thoughtfully. “This getting out of hand, and if his female alpha is against him, the older members of his pack are against him and the younger ones putting their trust in the adults, there is a traitor in his keepers, and plus all the shit with the education system building little hunters...” he shook his head. “His only allies are us, that keeper Buckley and that’s it.”

“Steve is being harried on every side,” Wayne said in all seriousness. “And I don’t know how to protect him.”

Eddie rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “So we surround him with non-pack supes.”

“What do you mean, Ed?” Wayne asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I can’t involve Jeff, not with him being a part of the coven,” Eddie said, “but I have other friends who are supernatural beings. After all, if Steve is advocating for all supes they might be willing to protect him.”

Wayne nodded. After their time with Nancy he trusted the pack even less. There was something going on in this town that making it rot.

He clasped Eddie on the shoulder. “Go, gather your friends, I’ll meet up with you at the high school, I have my fish to fry.”

Eddie nodded and shifted, taking off in flight.

Wayne looked up at his nephew, now but black spot in the harsh daylight and shook his head. His boy had his heart in the right place, plus he didn’t want Eddie to know about who he was going to see.

~

Wayne started to relax in the setting sun and he began to unwind his protections. He pulled on his usual flannel and shoved the rest into his knapsack.

Just then a man oozed out of the shadows and smiled at him.

“I never expected to hear from you again,” the man muttered.

“Sam,” Wayne replied tersely. “I should have ripped you to pieces when I found out what you were.”

Dr. Sam Owen looked around him with a shrug and tilt of his head. “And leave this place without its staunch protector?”

Wayne growled, his fangs dropping and his eyes turning blood red.

“Don’t be like that, darling,” Sam cooed. “I told you before and I’m telling you again. That wasn’t my real wife or my real kids. I was undercover.”

“Yeah?” Wayne huffed. “That why you fucked her then? For your cover?”

Sam’s easy smile fell for the first time. “What?” His jaw was set in a hard line and gaze turned to steel.

Wayne laughed bitterly. “I could smell the stench of sex the moment I walked into that damned house. There were no other scents but yours and hers, so don’t you feed me some line.”

“I’ve heard of vampires having keen senses before but this one is new to me,” Sam said, excitement coloring his tone.

“If I didn’t need something from you,” Wayne spat, “I would fucking hit you right now. Are you really choosing to focus on my sense of smell after I just told you I knew you cheated on me?”

Sam straightened his spine. “Right, right. Sorry. That was a stupid thing to say.” He gently brought a finger under Wayne’s chin. “She was a succubus.”

Wayne’s head rocked back and away from his finger. “You telling me right now, demons exist?”

“I don’t know why that is such a surprise,” Sam said, cocking his head to the side as he regarded Wayne’s reaction with curiosity. “Fae, djinn, roc, wendigos, vampires, sirens, selkies, set animals, aqrabuamelu all exist why would demons be the exceptions?”

Wayne glared at him. “Because dragons, unicorns, actual fucking gods don’t exist, so yeah I figured heaven and hell were off the table too.”

Sam shook his head. “No, no. Demons aren’t of hell. Not in the way certain religions believe. But gumiho exist and so do incubi and succubi. The latter two smell strongly of intercourse. It’s a kind of pheromone they give off when distressed.”

“I–I didn’t know,” Wayne muttered, dropping his gaze to the floor.

He took a step toward Wayne and cupped his cheeks. “I should have sought you out after you ran off, I knew where you were, I could have come and cleared up the misunderstanding, but I didn’t. This is on me entirely. What ever you want, whatever you need. Just ask and I’ll grant it.”

Wayne looked up into the agent’s eyes. “Can you get me all the information on the banishment of Dr. Alexei Oborin?”

“Done.”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head gently out of Sam’s grasp. “You aren’t going to ask what for?”

“No,” Sam said with a smirk. “Because I know you, Wayne. You are one tough son of a bitch, but your instinct is rarely wrong. I’ve come to rely on that fact.”

“There are some pretty weird shit going down in this town, Sam,” he growled. “It’s making the air feel like just before an electric storm. Cackling with danger and the smell of ozone.”

Sam nodded. “We’ve been looking into some things since the Harrington alpha was attack. I don’t know if our two investigations are related, but I don’t see how they can be.”

“You aren’t keeping shit from me, are you Sam?” Wayne asked, cocking his head to the side.

The agent sighed. “It’s not keeping it from you if I can’t tell you what I’m working on. You know that.”

“If there is something with that boy that you aren’t telling me,” Wayne growled, “I will rip your balls off.”

“Wayne...I’m investigating. I don’t know anything yet.” Sam rubbed his face in frustration.

The vampire eyed him warily, but nodded. “I want those files as soon as you can.”

“I promise.”

Wayne walked away from Sam and then transformed, taking flight. Below the agent looked up at the winged creature and sighed.

This complicated matters.

~

Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Tag List: SEVENTEEN SLOTS REMAINING

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @fullpoetrybread @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @thelittleclare

5- @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @she-collects-smut @irregular-child @y4r3luv

6- @fairytalesreality @anaibis @papergrenade @ravenfrog @blondie1006 @dreamercec

7- @thedragonsaunt @sadisticaltarts @kultiras

[scary-grace]

Enough to Go By (Chapter 13) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Chapter 13

“I can’t believe this.” Tomura’s not happy, and he’s not shy about sharing it. “We’re not hostages. Take the fucking hoods off.”

“Don’t complain. It makes you sound like a child.” The voice of the Hassaikai member walking behind you sounds familiar, but you can’t quite grasp where you’ve heard it before. “Trust is earned. And you haven’t earned it.”

“It’s hard to earn trust without an opportunity to be trustworthy,” you say, as diplomatically as you can manage. You’re not thrilled about the hood over your head, either, mainly because you’re worried that it’ll take your veil with it when they try to take it off. “As for childishness – I’m not sure if you were the one who picked up the phone when Tomura changed the meeting date, but whoever it was threw a pretty impressive fit.”

Whoever’s walking behind Tomura decides to wade into things. “That was a subordinate, not the head of our organization.”

“Were they over twenty?”

Silence falls, other than the sound of your footsteps through what you’re fairly sure is a tunnel of some kind. You’ve been walking for a while, and the silence stretches, then stretches again. “We’re getting off the subject,” the Hassaikai member says, and Tomura snorts. “Careful. The door.”

You shift to one side to avoid the doorframe and bump into Tomura. Your hands brush, and Tomura’s little finger links briefly with yours, squeezing tight before letting go. It reassures you. You don’t know what you’re doing here. You shouldn’t be here – you’re quirkless, you’re not a villain, you’ve done nothing to earn a place in the negotiation between the League of Villains and the Shie Hassaikai. But Tomura wants you here. That would be all that matters, except Overhaul wants you here, too.

The hoods come off once you’re through the door, and you barely manage to grasp the hem of your veil in time to keep it over your face. With the hoods gone, you can see that you’re in a small, windowless room, standing behind a couch. Facing you, seated on another couch, is Overhaul. You were too panicked to really take the measure of him when you met in the warehouse. Now you have a close look, and what you see is – weird.

His eyebrows are thin and arched, almost plucked. The clothes he’s wearing are distinctive. The green combat jacket with purple faux fur around the collar was an intentional choice, which means his fashion sense is bizarre. He’s wearing thin white gloves on both hands, and like you are with any quirked person, you’re wary. You might have some idea what he’s capable of, but you don’t know for sure. All you know is that you’ve got no way to protect yourself from him. If he decides he wants you dead, you’re dead. You have to be careful.

But you’re not alone here. Tomura’s with you – and because Tomura’s himself, he doesn’t have to worry about careful. “Do you give this kind of welcome to all your allies? Or are you just pissed that we didn’t come running the first time you snapped your fingers?”

“This isn’t a social call, it’s a business meeting. I’m always careful when I conduct business.” Overhaul is talking to Tomura, but he’s looking at you. “Saintess, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Have a seat, both of you.” Overhaul stays silent as the two of you situate yourself, only speaking once you’re both settled. “I’m glad to see that you’re prepared to move past the – unpleasantness of our first meeting.”

“Move past it, sure. Forget it, no.” Tomura props his feet up on the coffee table between the couches. “One of your minions died. You destroyed Compress’s arm, and we lost Magne because of you. Those aren’t equal losses. If we’re going to move past it, we need something from you.”

“The Hassaikai will pay the cost of a prosthetic for Compress,” Overhaul says. “Unfortunately, nothing more can be done for Magne. I understand that Tartarus will be his final destination.”

“Hers,” you correct without thinking.

“Unless he talks,” Overhaul continues, like you didn’t speak. “I imagine that if he shares what he knows about your so-called organization, he could get himself moved to medium security instead.”

“She,” Tomura snaps. His fists are clenched on his thighs, his knuckles white. “She won’t talk, and even if she did, it would be because of you.”

“She attacked first.” Overhaul’s mocking Tomura, mocking you – mocking Magne, who’s not here to defend herself. “If you had better control over your gang of lunatics, then –”

“We’re getting off the subject,” you say, and Tomura and Overhaul both look at you. “What’s done is done. We’re here to discuss the future of your organization and Tomura’s, aren’t we? What did you have in mind?”

Overhaul tilts his head, studying you. It’s quiet for a moment – quiet, until Tomura snaps. “What are you looking at her for? Stop looking at her. I didn’t bring her for you to stare at.”

“Why do you think I asked you to bring her?” Overhaul doesn’t wait for Tomura to answer, and he doesn’t answer his own question, either. “Saintess was correct at our first meeting to look for an alignment of our goals. Your diagnosis of the problem as heroes, however, is incomplete. The root of the problem is the existence of quirks themselves.”

“Quirks,” Tomura repeats after a second. “That’s a new one.”

“It sounds radical to you as a person with a quirk. This is why I asked you to bring Saintess with you,” Overhaul says. “As a quirkless individual, I’m sure she can explain exactly what quirks have done to warp society from its natural order.”

Your stomach lurches. “What makes you think I’m quirkless?”

“If you were any use, Shigaraki would have used you already.” Overhaul shrugs. “If you had a quirk that could have influenced the outcome of the League’s previous engagements, you would have featured prominently in them, and if you had any value, you would already have been captured. Shigaraki has a nasty habit of giving his most valuable pieces away.”

You knew you didn’t like Overhaul, and it’s not like you haven’t heard anyone say things like that about you before, but hearing them said in front of Tomura is something else. It’s a good thing you’re behind a veil. Your face is heating up in shame. “But it’s your presence at Shigaraki’s right hand that convinced me we could work together,” Overhaul says. “A leader who can see value beyond quirks is a leader with whom I can find common ground. So let’s discuss my plans, and where you might fit into them.”

“Let’s start with this.” Tomura extracts the quirk-erasing bullet – the copy of the quirk-erasing bullet that Twice made – from his pocket and holds it up. “After Compress was shot with this, he couldn’t use his quirk for a while. What is this thing, and where did you get it?”

Tomura knows both answers, courtesy of you and Kazuo, which gives him the chance to test Overhaul’s honesty. “We manufacture those in-house,” Overhaul says. “Right now we lack the facilities to mass-produce them, so we’re in short supply. I’ll take that back –”

“Nope.” Tomura grasps the bullet with all five fingers and Decays it. Twice’s creations Decay like anything else, if Tomura does it fast enough. “If you throw away your toys, you don’t get them back. How are you producing them?”

Kazuo texted you some extra information after he ran his query, sharing that there’s human DNA inside each bullet. Overhaul’s silent for a moment, and Tomura pushes the point. “Earlier you said it was a manufacturing issue, but this thing was – what? A bullet casing and a needle? I’m guessing your real problem is not having enough of what’s inside it.”

“And?”

“And that seems like a flaw,” Tomura says. “It’s nice to have a plan. Not so nice if you can’t execute it.”

“Currently our production of the deleter rounds is restricted to one facility. Our production of Trigger, however, is widespread,” Overhaul says. “My plan requires both components. Once it’s executed, control of quirks will pass from the hands of individuals into the hands of those who control the supply of both compounds.”

Tomura nods. “I get the picture.”

It sounds like he doesn’t. He sounds like he used to in school, when he was writing his letters upside down or trying to put a puzzle piece somewhere it didn’t fit. Overhaul doesn’t buy it. “Why don’t you have Saintess explain what a world where quirks can be permanently erased would look like?”

He’s getting off on this. He must be. That’s the only reason you can think of why he’d force you to rub Tomura’s face in just how useless you are. “It wouldn’t be a return to the pre-quirk status quo,” you start, “because without mass distribution of the deleter substance, quirks themselves would still exist. But the category of quirkless would cease to be a static one.”

“And why would that be a good thing?”

You wish he wouldn’t prompt you. You were getting to it. “Quirklessness is stigmatized heavily. The downfall in privilege from quirked to quirkless would be colossal, for nobody more so than for heroes. The constant threat of quirklessness would change how heroes approach their work. It would make them more cautious, more self-protective.”

“Less heroic,” Tomura says. “I get it.”

“The threat of ending up like her will handicap them, and they’ll never be able to avoid the risk,” Overhaul says. “That’s the kind of reset I’m talking about. Now, in order to accomplish my goals, I’ll need some members of your organization to join mine.”

“Why?” Tomura asks suspiciously. “What do you want with them?”

“My organization is short on infiltrators. We’re tilted towards combat or interrogative types,” Overhaul says. “Twice, Toga, and Kurogiri. That’s who I need. You can keep the rest.”

“We don’t have freedom of movement right now. I’m not handing over Kurogiri,” Tomura says shortly. “Twice and Toga you can have, on a temporary basis.”

“I’ll have them until I’m done with them.”

“If you take them temporarily, what do I get in exchange?”

“I imagine you’re short on funds,” Overhaul says. “We’ll provide a place for you to stay as well as money for food and support items – and the prosthetic for Compress, as discussed. Hmm, and –”

He looks at you. “That injury to your hand hasn’t healed yet. I’ll fix it.”

“No.” Tomura was sitting with his feet on the table until a second ago, but he rockets to standing at once. “Touch her and I’ll kill you.”

“You don’t trust me? We’re supposed to be allies.”

“After what happened the last time you touched one of my friends? Damn right I don’t trust you.” Tomura has one arm thrown out, blocking you even though Overhaul hasn’t made a move. “You aren’t touching her. Back off.”

“I’m just trying to help.” Overhaul spreads his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Call it a peace offering.”

You don’t want Overhaul touching you. You don’t want Overhaul coming anywhere near you. But Tomura’s outsize reaction looks bad. It looks like he doesn’t trust Overhaul, which he doesn’t, and it looks like he’s about to fly off the handle at any second, which he isn’t – and it makes you look important, which you aren’t. There’s only one solution you can see. You get to your feet. “It’s a peace offering,” you say, adopting Overhaul’s term. “I’m not against help when it’s offered.”

You step around Tomura’s outstretched arm, closing the distance between yourself and Overhaul. When you unwrap your bandaged hand, he regards it with clear distaste – but at the same time, he’s peeling off one of his gloves. “These are shallow. They should be healed already, given that you had the same bandage five days ago.”

“It’s on my hand. It’s hard to keep a scab on something I use all the time.” You hold out your hand when Overhaul beckons, wondering if you’re about to die. He could bring you back if he kills you, but he probably wouldn’t if Tomura lost control badly enough. And you can’t count on Tomura’s self-control in a situation like this, when he’s already pissed, already on edge. “Are you sure you want to do this? I won’t be mad if you changed your mind.”

“How forgiving. As expected of a Saintess.” Overhaul’s voice is sardonic. You really wish the League had picked a name for you that was a little less of a joke. “Here.”

His fingers brush the back of your hand, and your skin crawls – but that’s it. When you look down at your hand, you can see that the marks left by Tomura’s nails have smoothed over into a faint scar. A scar that vanishes completely a moment later. Overhaul yanks his glove back over his hand. “Why don’t you go show your boss that his suspicions were unfounded?”

You step back around the coffee table until you’re next to Tomura, and you hold up your hand for him to inspect. You can tell by what little of his expression is visible around the hand that he’s seething. He looks past you, to Overhaul. “Are we done here?”

“Not quite. Why don’t you stay for a game?” Overhaul gestures, and one of his masked minions sets a board and game pieces down on the coffee table. “Do you play shogi?”

“No,” Tomura says, in the same tone as he’d say “fuck you”. “You might have time for board games, but we have important things to do.”

“I wasn’t asking you.” Overhaul is looking at you – again. “Have a seat, Shigaraki. Saintess and I will show you how it’s done.”

You do know how to play, but you don’t play very well – a lifetime of letting your younger siblings win so they won’t hammer you with their quirks has left you uniquely unprepared to play someone who knows what they’re doing. But in some ways, this is exactly the kind of situation you always wound up in at home. Somebody more powerful than you is using the threat of their quirk to push you around. The only difference is that Overhaul is about fifty times as powerful as your siblings. And that when you were playing with them, you never had to worry about keeping your supervillain boyfriend calm at the same time.

Overhaul is lecturing Tomura about how shogi works. You focus on your opening moves. You really don’t want to get your ass kicked in front of your best friend, particularly not after he’s just spent the last half an hour listening to Overhaul remind him how useless you are. At the same time, though, you think you should probably let Overhaul win. You need to leave him thinking he’s got the upper hand over Tomura. It’s a delicate balance, and with your self-esteem basically in tatters, you’re not sure how good you’ll be at keeping it.

Even if Tomura doesn’t know how to play, he’s still on your team, as evidenced by the fac that he interrupts Overhaul every time Overhaul’s about to move a piece. He starts by needling Overhaul about exactly what’s inside the bullets, then moves on to asking about the quirk makeup of Overhaul’s inner circle, arguing that since Overhaul’s helping himself to members of the League, Tomura should have information about Overhaul’s underlings in case he wants to borrow one. Tomura’s interruptions give Overhaul time to rethink his moves, and because you’re playing what you’ve come to think of as the please-don’t-hurt-me strategy rather than trying to win outright, he doesn’t seem to know how to respond. You manage to promote one of your pieces and capture two of his before he finally quits responding to Tomura’s hassling.

Overhaul’s using the game as a personality test. He’s said as much, which makes the fact that he chose to play against you instead of Tomura especially weird. Does he like you or something? You’re pretty sure that’s not it – he’s never seen your face, and even if he could, you’re not anything special. Trying to figure out why Tomura keeps you around would make more sense, but you feel like he’d have to be socially unaware to the max to fail to guess that you and Tomura are involved. So what is it? For the first time in conjunction with dealing with the League, you wish one of your friends was here – Mitsuko, whose quirk lets her read people’s intentions towards one another. She’d be able to tell you what’s going on in Overhaul’s head. She’d also be able to tell you what’s going on in Tomura’s.

Overhaul never quite catches onto your strategy, such as it is, which means you win your first game of shogi ever against a yakuza boss who clearly thinks pretty highly of his own skills. You’re hoping he’ll let you leave now, but before he can put the board away, Tomura nudges you aside and takes your place across the board from Overhaul. “I want to play, too.”

Tomura versus Overhaul is a mess of a game, with pieces flying every which way at high speed. Tomura pressures Overhaul by playing fast, barely considering his moves before he makes them, and while Overhaul grasps Tomura’s strategy eventually, it takes just a little too long to give him the decisive victory he was probably hoping for. Tomura doesn’t seem particularly upset at losing. “Thanks for the lesson,” he says to Overhaul, getting to his feet and stretching widely. One of Overhaul’s minions narrowly avoids getting smacked in the face by his hand and scurries out of range in a hurry. “Are we going to have to do this again?”

“Not unless our strategy changes drastically.”

“Great.” Tomura turns to you. “Let’s go.”

They don’t blindfold you this time. You try to keep track of the various twists and turns, just to have something to do, but you can’t focus. Your veil may be in place, but with every step you take away from Overhaul, your mask slips a little further.

You grew up being picked on for being quirkless. Mercilessly picked on at home, less so at school, because you didn’t do anything so stupid as wanting to be a hero. You would have been targeted if you’d made waves, so you didn’t, staying under the radar and out of the way, even once you had friends like Kazuo and Hirono and Ryuhei who were willing and able to stand up for you. And maybe you forgot a bit, because it doesn’t matter at your job and the League doesn’t care. But what Overhaul said isn’t some aberration – it’s how the world really sees you. Useless. Worthless. If you were of any value as Tomura’s game piece, you’d already have been taken off the board.

“Hey,” Tomura says, and you look up just in time to realize that you’re stepping through the door of Overhaul’s stronghold. It’s dark out, and it’s cold, and Kurogiri’s waiting for you. But instead of stepping through the warp gate, Tomura addresses Kurogiri. “Take us to the place. Wait fifteen minutes and come back to get us.”

“Yes, Shigaraki Tomura.”

A different warp gate opens. Tomura takes your hand, three fingers wrapped loosely around your wrist, and pulls you through it. You don’t have a clue where you’re headed, and you’re still confused when you emerge from the other side of the warp gate and get your bearings. It’s still dark, and it’s also cold – a lot colder than it was outside of Overhaul’s stronghold. Tenko draws his coat tighter around himself. “Fuck, it’s freezing.”

You can make out shapes in the darkness, but nothing that tells you what you’re actually looking at. “Where are we?”

“I used to come here sometimes. When I was a kid.” Tenko looks up at the sky. It was clear at Overhaul’s, but here it’s cloudy, a heavy bank blotting out the stars. “Sensei didn’t like when I went places. Kurogiri convinced him somehow. Probably told him I’d scratch all the skin off my face if I couldn’t go outside sometimes. I don’t know.”

Tenko sets off over the uneven ground, his hand still around your wrist. At one point he crouches, then comes back up with a camping lantern, which he switches on and holds up, revealing that you’re in the ruins of a big building. No, not a building. “Is this a plane?”

“It crashed a few years before All Might debuted,” Tenko says. “Officially an accident, but most of the internet thinks it was sabotaged. The pilots kept this thing in the air for thirty-eight minutes after the hydraulics failed.”

“What about –” you struggle to phrase it in a way that won’t get you in trouble. “What about heroes? If it was in the air for thirty-eight minutes, then somebody –”

“You think anybody would square up to a crashing jumbo jet? They let it fall.” Tenko scoffs. “Didn’t come looking to help until it was too late. Five hundred people on this flight, and four made it. That’s it.”

You’re in a graveyard. Your skin crawls. “And they just left it here?”

“I guess. And I guess if Sensei thought he had to let me outside, it might as well be somewhere I wouldn’t forget what I was supposed to be.”

“That’s messed up,” you say before you can stop yourself. Tenko lets go of your wrist, but only so he can take the hand down off his face and tuck it into his pocket. “It is, Tenko. It’s messed up that he –”

“Back there. With Overhaul.” Tenko cuts you off, and your stomach lurches. “Is that what they’re all like?”

You were hoping he wouldn’t bring that up. Praying, maybe. “No,” you say. Your voice isn’t wavering. It’s just the wind. “He wasn’t that bad. It’s fine.”

“If that doesn’t count as bad, what does?”

Things your siblings said, things your classmates said once you got old enough for it to matter – things patients said, back when you were dumb enough to think that letting them know you were quirkless would make the other quirkless ones feel better. “Nothing. It’s not that bad. He was picking on your judgment more than he was picking on me.”

“He was going after you. I had to sit there and watch you tie yourself in a knot trying not to piss him off –” Tenko breaks off in a snarl. “He backed us so far into a corner that you had to let him touch you to get out! You want to talk about fucked up? That’s fucked up! Don’t –”

“It’s fine –”

“Don’t tell me it’s fine!” Tenko’s voice is loud enough to echo, loud enough to startle you. “I know you. Even when you’re hiding behind that thing. You think I don’t know when somebody hurts you?”

“I’m not hurt,” you say. Your voice isn’t wavering. You’re just laughing at how absurd of a thing that is to say. “You think somebody like him can hurt me?”

“Yes.” Tenko catches the hem of your veil and flips it back, baring your face.

It takes all your self-control not to cover your face with both hands. You’re crying. It’s stupid. You’re twenty years old and you’re crying like somebody’s pulled your hair on the playground. You’ve been crying on and off since you turned your back on Overhaul, trusting the veil and years of practice keeping quiet to hide you, only you’re with the one person who’s never fallen for that. Tenko stares at you in the light of the camping lantern, and you stare back, your eyes blurring as you fight to keep your mouth from turning down at the corners. You wish he’d look away. It makes it so much harder that he can see you.

“Don’t look,” you say, hating how your voice shakes, and Tenko grabs you one-handed and pulls you in against his chest.

There’s a clang as he sets the camping lantern down, and then his other arm comes up around you, hands clenched into fists on your shoulder blade and your hip. He’s holding onto you tightly, tight enough that you’d have a hard time escaping if you wanted to. But you don’t want to. You’ll take what you can get, even knowing you don’t belong, even knowing that you’re always going to be –

“You aren’t useless.” Tenko’s voice is quiet, gentle. You remember it from when he was a kid. You didn’t know it was still there. “You can do all kinds of things. I need those things. The rest of the League needs those things, too. And they like you. Or else they wouldn’t have given you a name.”

Your stupid, shitty name. You want to laugh, but it doesn’t sound like laughter when it comes out. “And even if you couldn’t do any of the medic stuff,” Tenko says, “even if you couldn’t do anything at all to help, I’d still want you with me.”

“No, you wouldn’t have. You only sent Kurogiri to get me the first time because I’m a nurse –”

“I told him to get you before. A lot of times.” Tenko takes a deep breath, lets it go. “I should send that fucking hero a thank-you card. Kurogiri only listened that time because I was injured.”

He wanted to see you. That can’t be right. Can it? You grasp onto the least ridiculous part of what Tenko just said. “A thank-you card?”

“That’s faster to say than “a pipe bomb with a bow on it”.”

That might be the worst thing Tenko’s ever said in front of you. It’s also pretty funny at a time when you need something to laugh at. You try to smother your laughter in Tenko’s shoulder, and he hugs you closer. “I want you with me. You’re supposed to be with me. No matter what. Do you understand?”

“I don’t know,” you say. You think you might, though. Maybe. “I –”

“Come on.” Tenko sits down in one of the empty seats, pulls you into his lap, holding on when you try to squirm away. “Don’t worry. I only sit in the ones the survivors were in.”

That strikes you as unexpectedly sweet. It’s the kind of thing Tenko would have done even as a kid. At the same time – “You know we’re not done with the messed-up-ness of your Sensei sending you to play in a crashed plane, right?”

“It’s not that weird,” Tenko says. You raise your eyebrows. “Kids play in that park they built at Kamino, right?”

You hadn’t thought of it like that. Both places are places where a lot of people died. Both places have been swept under the rug, Kamino by putting up a shiny park over the ruins within two weeks of the disaster, this place by leaving it to rot out of sight and memory. Both places are the site of massive heroic failures. It’s not as different as you want it to be. “That’s messed up, too.”

Tenko snorts, rolls his eyes, but his arms are wrapping tighter around you. He presses his face into your shoulder, his voice muffled and indistinct. “I don’t need you to understand everything. I just need you here. Do you get it?”

“I get it,” you say. “I need to be here, too.”

Tenko’s nose is cold where it presses against your throat, but his chapped lips and his breath are warm. You’re shivering, and so is he. “If I’d known it was this cold, I’d have made Kurogiri bring us somewhere else.”

“Why did you have him bring us somewhere instead of back to my place?”

“I wanted to talk to you. Without them hearing.” Even in the faint light of the camping lantern, you see his face flush. “They hear enough already.”

You knew Dabi was going to say something. It sounds like he said more than one something. “He just needs to get laid.”

Tenko looks shocked for a moment. Then he bursts out laughing, the sound echoing through the ruins of the plane. You like his laughter, but it sounds wrong here. Kissing him feels wrong to do here, too, but it’s the only way you can think of to keep him quiet, and it’s easy to fall into, easy to forget. Easy to forget where you are, but what happened to put you here isn’t so easy to leave behind.

Tenko’s hands have been curled into fists the entire time. Now they loosen slightly, splaying across your shoulder, grasping your hip. His index fingers are lifted. “He fixed your hand,” he says after a while. “I know why he did it.”

“Don’t think about him,” you say. You know you don’t want to – but at the same time, you weren’t paying much attention past your own discomfort. Tenko might have seen something you didn’t. “Why?”

“Because he knows I couldn’t.” Tenko’s grip tightens. “He wants you.”

That’s not right. “I don’t think he wants me. I don’t know why anyone –”

You trail off. There are some things that are too pathetic to say out loud, even for you. Some things you shouldn’t say even in front of your best friend, your boyfriend. Not after he’s tried pretty hard to reassure you about your place in the League, your place with him. Tenko looks expectantly at you, waiting for you to finish your sentence. You shake your head. Tenko smiles halfway, crookedly, and says the last thing you’d expect him to say. “Of course he wants you,” he says. “Who wouldn’t?”

[macbethsymphony]

The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 12

Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Chapter wc: 2.5k

Chapter rating: SFW-ish

Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, Eventual smut

Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.

Chapters [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11]

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3 Feel like binging the rest of it? it's all there!

Chapter 12: Shiawase

Roronoa Zoro was struggling. He hated to admit it, but he was coming to his wit’s end on how to handle the sword the witch had presented to him. He'd been at it for almost three days now, and there had been no progress. The damn thing was as stubborn and temperamental as the one who forged it.

He paced back and forth on the sun-drenched deck of the ship, slowly circling the sheathed Shiawase as he pondered how to approach it next. His mind was a battleground of contemplation, frustration, and a tinge of admiration for the weapon’s defiance. With a frustrated sigh, he picked up the blade, fingers wrapping around the handle in a now familiar battle of wills.

He unsheathed it, the scabbard sliding smoothly against the blade. The steel gleamed under the harsh sunlight, its surface adorned with an intricate Damascus pattern that danced in hues of amethyst and obsidian. Despite his vexation, he couldn’t help but admire the blade’s craftmanship, the perfect balance as he twirled it, the deadly sharpness of its edge.

And then it started again. The push and pull the blade demanded of his haki. A dizzying rhythm that left him breathless and sweat drenched. He groaned as he extended his haki towards the blade, trying to overwhelm the sword’s will with his own determination. His brow furrowed as the blade suddenly pulled at his haki, devouring it insatiably. He tried to pull back, beads of sweat travelling down across the muscles of his bare back, the scorching sun drying them out almost instantly.

His hand twitched.

The blade dropped.

An annoyed ‘fuck’ passed his lips.

A sly smile played on your lips as you observed Zoro's fruitless attempts to subdue the rebellious Shiawase. It was a spectacle of futility, a dance of frustration that seemed to distance him further from mastering the obstinate blade. Each move was a misstep, a testament to the intricate challenge that lay before him, and you found a unmistakable enjoyment in witnessing his struggles.

While a part of you yearned to approach him, to reveal the secrets of the blade with effortless finesse, another part reveled in the idea of prolonging his torment. The allure of letting him grapple with the realization of his own limitations appealed to you far more than you liked to admit.

Leaning casually against the ship's railing, you crossed your arms, the glint in your eyes betraying your amusement. The unfolding drama below held your attention like a captivating performance, a blend of determination and stubbornness that both entertained and intrigued.

As the scorching sun reflected brightly off the blade, highlighting Zoro's increasing frustration, you couldn't resist a playful taunt. "Need some help, swordsman?" you called out with a teasing tone. "I can show you how it’s done if you beg.”

His response was a nonchalant flip of the finger, a gesture that spoke volumes, even without a direct glance in your direction. You laughed in the face of his irritation.

Nami strolled over, her eyes flickering between you and the swordsman with an arched eyebrow. “Not in your forge?” She inquired. “I thought you were itching to get back to work.”

Your gaze flickered to her momentarily before going back to the entertaining display before you. “I am” you admitted. “It’s just too hot. I’ll have a stroke if I light those fires.”

A noncommittal sound passed her lips in acknowledgement as she leaned against the railing with you. “Looks like Zoro’s having a rough time” she remarked, glancing down.

You nodded, a smirk playing on your lips. “He’s going at it all wrong. Shiawase’s not a sword you can overpower. You have to play along with it, entertain its demands, let it gauge your intentions before you can take control.” You explained. “He’s trying to brute force his way in.”

Nami raised an eyebrow, intrigued by your assessment. “You talk like swords are people.” She observed.

You smiled. “Because they are. Each and every sword has a personality. Mine are just a little more difficult.” you clarified with a chuckle.

Nami eyed you curiously. “Well, he’s not one to back down from a challenge. It is amusing to see him struggle for once though.” She said.

As if on cue, Zoro let out a frustrated grunt, his movements growing more erratic as he attempted to force the sword into submission. It was clear that he was only digging himself deeper into his frustration.

“You can do it, Zoro!” Chopper and Usopp cheered from the sidelines in sync.

You snorted at the evident anger in the swordsman’s features.

“Think he’ll ever figure it out?” Robin asked, tone laced with amusement as she joined you and Nami.

“He will” You don’t skip a beat, your answer confident.

A mischievous gleam sparkled in Nami’s eyes as she leaned in closer, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “Should we make a wager on it?” She suggested, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Why not? It’ll make things more interesting” Robin agreed, playful sparkle in her eyes matching Nami’s

“I bet it’ll take him three more days to figure it out” Nami smirked, crossing her arms.

You considered the proposition, a devious grin forming on your face. "I'll take that bet. But I say he'll get it by tomorrow evening."

Robin chuckled. “I didn’t know you were so confident in Zoro’s abilities” she remarked. “I bet he’ll cave and ask you for advice in two days.” She said after much consideration.

You snorted at the thought. “I doubt so, but I’ll put 1000 berries on that wager.”

“Deal” Nami sealed the bet, anticipation hanging in the air as the three of you looked back at the spectacle before you.

The day had dragged on, the relentless sun casting long shadows across the ship's deck as Zoro stubbornly persisted in his futile attempts to tame the unruly Shiawase. From your vantage point, you continued to watch with a mixture of fascination and amusement.

With each passing moment, you observed the subtle shifts in Zoro's technique, his movements growing increasingly erratic as frustration threatened to engulf him. The once calculated swordsman now seemed consumed by wrath, his determination bordering on obsession.

As evening descended and the crew gathered for dinner, Zoro remained absent. Bets from the rest of the Straw Hats were made as they all animatedly shared their own hypothesis of the outcome between the swordsman and the sword. As night settled in the sky, Zoro stormed in a whirlwind of unchecked fury, interrupting the lively conversations, and left just as fast with two bottles in hand. The door slammed hard behind him, the reverberation a punctuation mark on his turbulent mood.

“Why don’t you point him in the right direction?” Luffy’s curious inquiry cut through the lingering silence, his innocent curiosity revealing the unspoken question that lingered in the minds of many aboard the ship.

You glanced over at Luffy, his expression one of genuine curiosity, and then turned your gaze back to where Zoro had stormed off. A wry smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you considered your captain's question.

"He's a bit too proud for that," you replied, your voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Besides, some lessons are best learned through experience."

Luffy nodded thoughtfully, seeming to accept your explanation without further inquiry. Around you, the rest of the crew had resumed their conversations, though the tension that had accompanied Zoro's departure still hung in the air like a heavy fog.

With a sigh you got up, leaving the galley in search of the angry swordsman. He was sitting down, back resting on the mast of the ship as he downed alcohol with abandon.

You approached him, the night air offering a refreshing reprieve from the day's scorching heat. "Like I said earlier, I can help if you beg," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes contrasting with the seriousness in his. “There’s really no need to get so angry over a sword, it’s not like it’ll disappear tomorrow.” You added softly.

"I’m not in the mood to talk to you, witch," he snapped, the bitterness in his voice evident as he took a long gulp of amber liquid, his gaze fixed on the unsheathed Shiawase before him.

Ignoring his sharp retort, you settled beside him, breaking the heavy silence with a question. "Which one of your swords are you going to let me study first?" you inquired, attempting to lighten the tense atmosphere.

Zoro shot you a skeptical glance, his gruff response cutting through the night. "Don't get ahead of yourself," he warned, his tone laced with impatience.

Your laughter rang out, undeterred by his bluntness. "Oh? Planning to throw in the towel already? I didn’t peg you as one to give up so easily," you remarked teasingly, a hint of scorn in your voice.

“I’m not fucking giving up,” he shot back, his resolve evident despite his frustration.

Mocking his stubbornness, you continued, "Ah, of course, because the great Roronoa Zoro, pirate hunter, knows all about swords, doesn’t he?" you taunted. "Perhaps you'd make some progress if you weren't so pathetically stubborn."

Zoro's grip on the glass tightened, his anger palpable. "I’ll figure it out," he grumbled, his voice tinged with cold determination.

Scoffing at the memories of his futile attempts, you reached for the bottle in his hand, draining the last drops in exasperation. "Oh, please. You couldn’t handle Shiawase if it came with an instruction manual. You’re only pushing yourself further from the solution," you remarked, the irritation in your tone matching his as his anger mingled with your mood.

His temper flared, his words cutting through the air like a sharpened blade. "Listen, witch. I don’t need your condescending advice," he growled, the venom in his voice stinging.

Seething at the derogatory inflections as he uttered the nickname, you stood up, your resolve unyielding. "At least I’m not too proud to admit when I need help," you retorted, looking down at him with a mix of defiance and pity.

His jaw clenched in response, the tension between you palpable.

With a mischievous smirk playing on your lips, you gracefully bent down to retrieve the sword. “Watch closely, swordsman. Consider it a gift from me to you,” you quipped, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

As your fingers wrapped around the silk of the handle, you felt Zoro's intense gaze fixed upon the blade. Your haki danced with the steel in a mesmerizing display of power, the complex waltz between your mind and the sword unfolding effortlessly.

Deciding to showcase your skill, you allowed red lightning filaments to saunter along the Damascus patterns in intricate swirls, a spectacle that demanded attention.

After a brief demonstration, you sheathed the blade, denying Zoro any further observation. “Understood?” you inquired, your voice laced with self-satisfaction as you leaned back casually against the mast.

A flicker of anger flashed in Zoro's eyes as he twisted open a new bottle, consuming its contents with reckless abandon. “I'll handle Shiawase my own way. I don’t need your tricks and mind games,” he spat through gritted teeth, as he stumbled up.

He drunkenly took a step forward, his hand dangerously close to your head as he pinned you with a look of unbridled contempt.

Refusing to back down, you met his gaze with unwavering defiance, a sneer curling your lips. “Tricks and mind games? You overestimate yourself, swordsman,” you retorted, matching his venomous tone with your own.

As your eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, you prepared to unleash another scathing remark, but a shift in Zoro's demeanor gave you pause. Your mouth opened and closed in doubt. The moment of uncertainty seemed to go on forever, a standstill in eternity as the unstoppable force met the immovable object.

Releasing the bottle with a loud thud against the wooden deck, his gaze bore into yours, searching for something elusive. Unable to resist, he roughly brushed his thumb against your lips, a crude gesture that demanded compliance.

“So you can shut up, witch,” he declared haughtily, The rough pad applying soft pressure against your teeth in a call for submission.

A surge of conflicting emotions swept through you, leaving you momentarily disoriented. You wished you could attribute it to the alcohol's influence, but you knew deep down it wasn't the case. Despite your inner resistance, you yielded slightly to his unspoken demand, a defiant glint shimmering in your eyes.

A smug smirk danced upon his lips, fuelled by the haze of alcohol as his index and middle finger ventured into the soft recesses of your mouth.

The tension in your grip on Shiawase intensified, the wooden scabbard creaking under the strain of your tightening fingers.

“I don’t like you,” he declared, his voice dripping with disdain as he peered down at you from his intoxicated perch.

Your knuckles whitened as your nails threatened to etch crescent marks into the lacquered walnut surface.

“Fuck you,” you retorted for lack of cleverer arguments, your words muffled by the intrusive weight of his fingers within your mouth.

An arch of his eyebrows betrayed a blend of amusement and irritation at your defiance. The charged atmosphere crackled between you, an intricate dance of egos teetering on the brink of conflict. Despite your verbal insolence, he maintained his condescending gaze, seemingly unaffected by your resistance.

The pressure of his fingers on your tongue shifted, edging perilously close to the back of your throat, coercing your jaw to widen further. He paused, savoring the control he appeared to have over the situation.

With a flicker of irritation, you shifted uncomfortably under his penetrating stare, a rebellious scowl etching across your features before you firmly bit down on his fingers. It wasn't a bite meant to inflict pain, but rather a not-so-subtle gesture to convey your displeasure.

The look in his eyes hardened momentarily, amusement flickering in and out as he contemplated his next move. However, before he could act, you took the initiative. Your hand, clutching Shiawase, interposed itself between you and the swordsman as you attempted to nudge him away, but his stance stayed resolute.

His smirk widened at your defiance. He withdrew his hand from your mouth, the bitter taste of skin remaining on your tongue, a stark reminder of what just happened. With a nonchalant shrug, he took a step back, his gaze lingering on you with a blend of satisfaction and an enigmatic something that eluded your understanding.

“You’re drunk, swordsman,” you remarked, pushing the sword towards his chest.

“I suppose I am,” he conceded, his hand overlapping yours as he grasped the sword. The cool touch of his spit-covered fingers against yours sent an unfamiliar chill coursing down your spine.

With a dismissive huff, he turned away, sword in hand. “Thanks for the tip, witch,” he called out over his shoulder. “I think I’ve figured it out.”

And indeed, he had.

Just as you had explained all those nights ago in the crow's nest, you and your swords were one and the same. If he could silence your defiance, he could conquer Shiawase. He simply needed to approach the sword with a different mindset, teasing out its secrets with a more playful and taunting demeanor, echoing the rhythm of your now familiar banter.

It took Roronoa Zoro two more days before he presented the sword back to you, a triumphant grin on his lips.

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Masterlist

[rorywritesjunk]

Let's be one another's present tense

Buggy 'rescues' you from an abusive situation, and after a less than stellar introduction, he has you audition for his crew to keep you safe. You want safety, security, and joining a circus seems like the best idea. Rating: R-ish for now. Warning: First chapter has bruises and talks about abuse (not from Buggy), though Buggy has his explosive moments. There's an asshole much older ex-husband in this story. Swearing. Nose bonks. A/N: This has been sitting in my head as I worked it out for an Anon's request. I have been really intrigued by this and wanted it to be just right. Also, it gave me the chance to ask my circus obsessed friend about different routines and we bounced some ideas off each other. This is also a touch different than other things I've written, which is why I've been taking so long to work on it and get it posted. Enjoy! Title comes from "Crater Lake" by Lady Lamb.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 (NC-17) + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 (NC-17) + Chapter 16 (NC-17) + Chapter 17

Chapter 1

“So we have a deal then?”

“Yes… yes, we have a deal.”

The clown pirate grinned at the old man sitting across from him. Buggy cheerfully cut a chunk out of the apple in his hand with his knife, tossing it into his mouth before he suddenly slammed the knife down onto the table, letting it stick into the wooden table top. The old man jumped while you flinched as you stood beside him. The bartering to keep the town safe from Buggy and his crew had finally finished and now it was just an uncomfortable time to be in the room.

Buggy looked at you and winked before he retrieved his knife, turning his attention back to the old mayor. “That your daughter there? She’s cute.” 

“No, she’s my wife.” He replied; Buggy had just taken a bite of the apple only to spit it out across the desk at the man in mock surprise. The man did his best not to react while you covered your mouth with a look of disgust on your face.

“Wife?” Buggy chuckled. “You have one foot in the grave and you’re married to someone who looks young enough to be your daughter?” He shook his head. “And people think pirates can be disgusting. They don’t really care what their local politicians are up to, do they?” Buggy took another bite of the apple, giving you a once over before he grinned. “Throw her into the deal.”

“I-I suppose we-” The mayor started but you cut him off.

“No, I’m not going with some disgusting pirate like you!” You snapped. “Who knows what you would do to me!”

Buggy locked eyes with you in that moment, the playful attitude gone and replaced with something you couldn’t quite figure out. He stood up and approached you, knife in one hand and apple in the other. The mayor just sat and watched, trembling in his seat, refusing to do anything to protect you. The captain smiled at you as the knife cut into the apple; you could hear the fruit cracking from the force of the knife, saw the juice spill over his fingers, soaking into his gloved hands.

“What did you say about my nose?” He asked, voice eerily calm as he tossed the bit of apple into his mouth. 

“I didn’t say anything about your nose.” You spat as you looked him up and down, crossing your arms. “Though I doubt I could say anything about it that you haven’t heard before.”

He smiled at that before raising the knife up and throwing it into the wall behind you. You turned to see where it landed but his hand was on your throat, backing you up to the wall and next to the knife. Buggy held you there for a moment, the smile disappearing as his hand tightened its hold on you. 

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you.” He murmured as you grabbed his hand with yours, trying to pull him off you. Buggy suddenly smirked and let go of you. “You’ll fit in with my crew. Though, I should warn you, every time you mouth off I cut off a bit of your tongue.”

You rubbed your throat, breathing heavily as you turned to your husband. “You’re… you’re just going to let him take me?!”

“He’ll destroy the town if I don’t!” The mayor wailed. “I can’t allow that to happen! Sa-Sacrifices have to happen!”

“I’m not a sacrifice!” You exclaimed as your hand went to where Buggy was just touching you. You felt… weird from that, never having been touched in that manner before. You were used to aggression, pain, fear. His touch was… strong but there didn’t seem to be malice, but more of a performance. He caused you discomfort but there wouldn’t be a bruise left on you from him that you could tell. You shook your head and looked back at Buggy. “What do you plan to do to me?”

“Target practice, maybe.” Buggy shrugged. “I got this new thing I wanna try where I cut off a volunteer’s clothes with my knife throwing, y’know. Getcha right where the seams of your clothes are and see if I can cut through them.” He looked you up and down as he reached out to touch the fabric of your blouse. “Though, this is nice fabric, I don’t know if I want to risk damaging it.”

You slapped his hand away before turning to slap your ‘husband’. He recoiled at your touch but you didn’t care. He had no issue giving you up to some dirty pirate like this. Sacrifice? You were not some animal to be led for slaughter, you were a person, and you would take out Buggy and his crew even if it killed you. As you turned to face Buggy, he was already at the door of the office, but a hand was in front of you, holding a small red ball. With a squeeze, red smoke burst out of it and everything went dark.

~

The rope around your wrists was tight, scraping and irritating your skin. You were groggy as you came to but you were on a soft surface, fabric rubbing against your cheek almost comfortingly as you tried to get your head to stop spinning and for the nausea to cease. It took a few minutes for you to recall what your last moments were. Slapping a hand, your ex-husband, and some kind of smoke. 

Oh shit you were captured by a pirate. A clown pirate with a bright red nose who was sensitive about it.

You moved your tongue around in your mouth, relieved that it was still whole. He didn’t cut it out yet, but was that empty threat or was he really going to do it? And what was he actually planning on doing with you? Stories often went around about pirates and what they were known to do to their prisoners, and you had heard many of them to give you some idea what to expect. Would he kill you after he was done with you, or would he kill you first and toss you into the sea to be food for the fishes and sea kings?

Heavy footsteps were approaching your room. You shut your eyes, hoping whoever it was would see you were asleep and would leave you alone. 

Except that was expecting too much. 

“Get up.” Buggy said as he walked over to the bed and grabbed the rope, pulling you into a sitting position. You glared up at him and he smirked, patting you on the cheek just enough to emit sound without the sting of a slap. “Rise and shine, cupcake. We need a new freak out there and you gotta earn your keep.”

“I will do no such thing.” You snapped as he pulled you up to your feet. Your body was still feeling the effects of the smoke and when you stood up you were off balanced, falling into him. To your surprise, he caught you, steadying you on your feet before he led you out of the room and down a walkway to another. You didn’t want to follow him, choosing to let your legs give out and falling to the floor. He stopped and turned to look at you.

“Really?” He shook his head and picked you up, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “You haven’t even had one performance and you’re already acting like a diva.” 

“Excuse me?!” You wriggled around, trying to get him to drop you, but he laid his hand over your back, steadying you as he walked. “Put me down now!”

“You seem to think you can tell me what to do, cupcake.” He chuckled as his hand slid from your back down to the top of your ass. Without warning he gave you a pinch, causing you to yelp in surprise. “You may have been that loser mayor’s wife, but here? You’re just another freak like us.”

He set you down in a chair and stood behind you. There was a mirror in front of you with lights all around it. You didn’t want to be looking in the mirror right then, seeing the bruises on your face, the black eye that was healing, or the cut on your cheek that was scabbing over. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. What was this clown playing at?

“Now, we both know I didn’t do that to your face.” He murmured as he put both of his hands on your shoulders and leaned down towards you. “That old man did, didn’t he?” He touched the cut and you jerked away. “Weird, he seemed scared of you back there.”

“He was scared of you.” You hissed as you opened your eyes to glare at him. Buggy put his hand on your other cheek and you flinched, jerking backwards and nearly headbutting him. “Don’t touch me!”

“Cupcake, I just gotta do your makeup.” He told you calmly as he moved just in time from getting a bloody nose. “Cover up your battle scars, y’know. Can’t have the audience thinkin’ we rough up our performers here.”

You jerked again in your seat, trying to get out of reach of him. You didn’t want him touching you, speaking to you, or being near you. You didn’t want to go home but you didn’t want to be here. Why did this happen to you? 

“Red lipstick would look wonderful on you, y’know.” He murmured as he leaned forward, looking at your face. “Or maybe I just throw you out there and let me and Cabaji practice our knife act on you.” He grinned. “I don’t want to waste makeup on you if you’re going to start crying out there.”

“Fuck you!” You spat as you threw your head forward, colliding with his nose. He reared back, swearing loudly as he clutched it while you slumped in the chair, dazed. You didn’t think it would do anything but he fell to the ground on his ass, stomping his feet in pain from the hit.

“Agh, you bitch! Why there?!” He shrieked, covering it with his hand as he tried to breathe through the pain. “Fuck, is your head a cannon ball? It felt like being hit by one!”

You lifted your bound hands to your head, rubbing your forehead. You could say the same thing about him, but then again you didn’t make it a habit of headbutting strange men. Your head felt a little rattled from the attack and the sharp pain in your forehead was throbbing.

“I didn’t think I’d hit your nose!” You shot back as you shut your eyes in pain. “Fucking asshole!”

He gave your chair a kick before getting to his feet, cursing you, headbutts, and noses before storming out of the room and leaving you by yourself. Your head was still hurting and you wondered if you were going to have a new bruise to add to the collection, but at least this one was from self defense, and you'd do it again to him if you had the chance. 

“Fucking clown.” You sighed as you leaned back in your seat. You needed to figure out what was going to happen next.

[pxnsneverland]

Ruthless Grace | Austin Butler x OC (part 3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

plot summary: Amidst the grime and squalor of Victorian England's winding cobblestone alleys, a young woman's life hangs precariously in the balance. Violet, a poor peasant girl with long raven locks and piercing gray eyes, possesses a haunting beauty that belies the harsh realities of her existence. Tragedy struck two years prior when Violet's mother succumbed to illness, leaving her to fend for herself and her father – a cruel, selfish man consumed by vices of alcohol and gambling. On one fateful night, Violet's father drags her unwillingly to that very den of iniquity, and there she learns a horrifying truth from the club's greedy, perverted owner: to repay his mounting gambling debts, her father has sold her into sexual servitude. Violet's vehement protests fall on deaf ears, until an unlikely savior emerges from the shadows. Lord Austin Butler intervenes with a bargain of his own. This dangerous man offers to pay off Violet's father's debts in exchange for her accompaniment, and Violet is torn from the only life she has known. While Austin's demeanor remains shrouded in mystery and detachment at first, Violet gradually glimpses his softer, even playful side as time passes within the manor's walls and an unexpected connection blossoms between the unlikely pair.

pairings: austin butler x oc

word count: 2,714

warnings/notes: n/a

Chapter 3: From the Gamble to the Carriage

Lord Austin Butler rose, his height casting a long shadow over the dimly lit room, the light catching the icy determination in his eyes. "You owe me nothing," he said with measured calmness, though there was an undercurrent of danger in his voice that made even Rat’s hardened associates shift uncomfortably in their seats. "However, you owe Miss Everly here the courtesy of not treating her as chattel."

Violet's heart skipped a beat at his words. The notorious Lord Butler, known equally for his ruthless dealings and his unexpected bouts of benevolence, was intervening on her behalf? She dared not let hope flicker too brightly, for fear it would be snuffed out just as quickly.

Rat's gaze flickered between Violet and Lord Butler, assessing the situation with a serpent's calculating eyes. "And why would you care about this girl, my lord?" Rat asked, his tone dripping with disdain. "What is she to you?"

Austin’s lips curled into a slight smile that did not reach his cold blue eyes. "Let's just say I dislike debts being settled through such... unsavory means," he replied smoothly. "Release her from your clutches or find yourself with an enemy you do not want."

Rat hesitated, weighing his options. He knew better than to cross the Butler family, and the debt he was owed, as large as it was, paled in comparison to the weight of their ire. Reluctantly, he let go of Violet's wrist. "Fine," Rat spat out.

"But don't think this is the end of it, Butler. I'll remember this."

Violet felt her wrist freed from Rat's greasy grip, her skin burning where his fingers had clung. She rubbed at the red marks silently, not daring to meet anyone's eyes. The ominous echo of Rat’s threat hung heavy in the air, a dark cloud promising a storm yet to come.

Austin didn't respond to Rat's parting shot; instead, he turned his attention to Violet. Violet's throat tightened. What could Lord Butler possibly want with someone like her? Was this another form of debt, one more personal and potentially perilous? Yet, what choice did she have but to accept his offer? The alternative—remaining under Rat's watchful and undoubtedly vengeful eye—was far worse. As the ruckus of the club resumed, a cacophony of raucous laughter and clinking glasses attempting to mask the tension that had just unfolded, Lord Butler's hand extended towards Violet.

"Come," he said, his voice a low command that brooked no argument. "Let us leave this place."

Violet hesitated, her mind racing with the possible consequences of trusting this enigmatic man. Yet as she glanced back at her father, who was now engrossed in a heated dice game, oblivious to her plight, she knew she had little choice. Swallowing hard, she placed her trembling hand in his. Lord Butler led her through the throng of bodies, his presence parting the crowd like a ship cleaving through dark waters. They stepped out into the cool night air, and Violet drew a deep breath, feeling as if she could breathe for the first time in hours. As they walked down the dimly lit cobblestone street, the cold night wrapping around them like an unwelcome cloak, Violet's mind swirled with a mixture of relief and trepidation. Lord Butler's steps were sure and silent, a stark contrast to the chaotic drumming of her own heart.

"Why did you help me?" she finally mustered the courage to ask, her voice barely above a whisper. She could not rid herself of the notion that every kindness must have its price, especially from someone of Lord Butler’s known reputation.

Austin paused, turning to face her under the faint glow of a street lamp. His features softened somewhat in the dim light, yet his eyes remained inscrutable. "You looked like you needed a way out.”

His reply, simple as it was, carried a weight that hung between them in the cool night air. Violet's eyes searched his, looking for any hint of deceit or malice, but found none that she could discern. She was not naive enough to think this marked the end of her troubles, but for a fleeting moment under the flickering streetlamp, she allowed herself to feel a semblance of safety.

"Where are we going?" Violet asked after a moment, her voice steadier than she felt.

"To my estate," Austin stated, his tone suggesting that further questions might not be welcome. "It’s safer there—for now."

The word 'safe' echoed in her mind like a promise too precious to trust. But what choice did she have? Going back was not an option; moving forward with this enigmatic lord was the only path left open to her. As they continued to walk, Austin's silence enveloped them as effectively as the fog that began to roll in from the river. The fog seemed to cloak their movements, a spectral shroud that masked the uncertainty of their destination. Violet's thoughts churned as violently as the river beside which they walked, each step taking her further away from a life of misery yet potentially closer to a new kind of danger. Lord Butler's stride was purposeful, his posture erect with an authority that commanded respect—even fear—but his silence was a puzzle she could not solve.

The fog seemed to cloak their movements, a spectral shroud that masked the uncertainty of their destination. Violet's thoughts churned as violently as the river beside which they walked, each step taking her further away from a life of misery yet potentially closer to a new kind of danger. Lord Butler's stride was purposeful, his posture erect with an authority that commanded respect—even fear—but his silence was a puzzle she could not solve. Every so often, he glanced over his shoulder, as if to ensure she was still there or to check that they were not being followed. The tightness of his jaw and the occasional narrowing of his eyes spoke of concerns he did not voice, adding another layer to his already enigmatic persona.

Violet's mind raced with questions about this man who had appeared so unexpectedly in her life. What drove him to intervene on her behalf? Was it merely distaste for the unsavory dealings of men like Rat, or was there something deeper, more personal at stake for him? His world was one of power and privilege, so far removed from her own experiences that she found it hard to believe their paths were meant to cross in any meaningful way. Yet here she was, following him into the unknown, driven by a desperation that made her cling to the fragile hope he offered.

As they approached a carriage waiting at the end of the street, its doors opened as if by magic, revealing a plush interior lit by soft lanterns. Violet paused, her heart pounding anew—not from fear this time, but from the sheer otherworldliness of the scene before her. Austin, noticing her hesitation, offered his hand once again, his expression unreadable.

"Trust me," he murmured, the words barely audible above the distant rumble of the city nightlife. The invitation was simple, yet it carried the weight of an unspoken promise—a promise that Violet found herself inexplically wanting to believe, despite every reason she had to doubt. Tentatively, Violet placed her hand in his once more, stepping into the carriage while trying to suppress the fluttering in her chest. The soft cushions enveloped her as she settled into a seat opposite Austin. The door shut with a definitive thud, sealing them together in this moving sanctuary from the outside world.

As the carriage lurched forward, Austin leaned back against the upholstery, his gaze fixed out of the window, lost in thoughts he did not share. Violet watched him covertly, studying his profile—the sharp jawline, the furrow between his brows that spoke of concentration or concern. He seemed both part of this opulent world and yet isolated from it. Her curiosity deepened, entwining with the threads of apprehension that wove through her mind. What lay at the end of this unexpected journey? What awaited her at Lord Butler’s estate? These questions spun in her mind like a whirlwind, leaving her dizzy with uncertainty.

The carriage wheels rhythmically hit against the cobblestones, a steady and hypnotic sound that seemed to echo the pulsing of her own heart. As they traveled further away from the life she knew, the streetlights became scarcer, plunging the carriage into periods of shadow interspersed with bursts of light.

Breaking the silence, Austin finally turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "You must have many questions," he said, his voice calm and somehow reassuring despite the situation.

Violet nodded, her throat tight with nervousness. "Yes, sir. I assume you bought me for your own…personal uses.”

Austin raised a brow trying to keep a smirk off his lips. “Personal uses?”

Violet narrowed her eyes. She didn’t enjoy him acting sly. She was not stupid. “Personal pleasure, my lord. That is what my father sold me to Rat for.”

He could no longer hold back his chuckle which made Violet even more angry. “You are rather blunt, Miss Everly.” Austin moved his gaze directly to hers. There was a teasing nature in his eyes that made Violet lean away from him slowly. “My intentions are my own. But I can assure you, they are not what you think.”

The assurance did little to quell the tempest inside her. Violet's eyes flitted away from his, focusing on the darkened landscape rolling past the carriage windows. Each word he spoke seemed layered with meaning she couldn't quite decipher. She was painfully aware of the close quarters, the way his presence seemed to fill up every inch of the space.

"If not for your pleasure, then what?" Violet's voice was steady now, edged with a quiet defiance. She needed to understand the web she was being drawn into, regardless of how tangled it appeared.

Austin paused, regarding her with a look that mixed amusement with a hint of admiration. "You're full of fire, aren't you?" he remarked, his tone lighter than the heavy atmosphere that filled the carriage.

Austin's smile faded as he considered her words, and for a moment, the playful spark in his eyes gave way to something more somber. "Fair enough," he conceded. "I am not in the business of buying souls, Miss Everly. Nor am I interested in such mundane transactions as those suggested." He leaned forward slightly, his eyes holding hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. "I needed to remove you from a dangerous situation."

Violet remained silent, her mind racing as she processed his words. The carriage rolled onwards, the sound of the horses’ hooves a steady beat against the cobblestone, mirroring the tumultuous rhythm of her thoughts.

"Why me?" she found herself asking again. The question had been burning inside her since the moment he'd intervened between her and her father.

Austin's gaze softened. "Sometimes," he started, pausing as if choosing his words carefully, "we find ourselves in positions to make changes in others' lives. And sometimes, we are compelled to act upon it."

"But why? What is in it for you?" Violet couldn’t help but press further. Her life had taught her that nothing was done without some gain sought.

Austin looked out of the window for a long moment before turning back to face her. His expression was unreadable. "Let’s just say I am settling a debt of my own," he confessed softly. His cryptic admission hung in the air, dense as the fog that crept silently around the carriage wheels. Violet felt the weight of his words, each one laden with hidden meanings she could not yet decipher. She sat back against the plush seat, her mind awhirl with possibilities and fears.

"What kind of debt can be settled by involving a stranger?" Violet asked, her voice low, almost swallowed by the creaking of the carriage and the distant calls of night creatures.

Austin's face remained impassive for a long moment as he pondered her question. Finally, he turned to her, his blue eyes piercing in their intensity. "The kind that weighs heavily on a man's conscience," he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Sometimes our pasts are riddled with decisions we wish we could undo. Helping you might be a step towards redemption for me."

Violet absorbed his words, turning them over in her mind like stones pulled from a riverbed, smooth and opaque. Redemption. The concept was foreign to her — a luxury far beyond her reach. In Violet's world, survival was the only moral code, and every day was a battle against despair. Yet looking into Austin's eyes, she saw a flicker of something relatable — a shared understanding of pain and regret. Perhaps, in his own tangled web of guilt and redemption, there was a thread she could hold onto, a thread that could lead them both towards something resembling salvation.

The carriage rolled on, enveloping them in the cocoon of its silent progress through the night. Violet found herself drawn into the rhythm of their journey, the steady beat of hooves syncing with her own tumultuous thoughts. Austin was an enigma—a man cloaked in privilege yet burdened by unseen chains. Could she trust him? Trust was a luxury scarcely afforded in her world, and yet, as the miles unfurled behind them like a ribbon in the wind, she sensed an inexplicable bond forming—an invisible thread pulled tight by circumstances.

"Lord Butler," Violet ventured cautiously, her voice a tentative whisper against the thrum of movement. "If redemption is what you seek, what role am I to play in it? Am I merely a pawn in your path to absolution?"

Austin turned his head slowly, fixing her with a look that melded wariness with an odd sense of respect. "Not a pawn," he said softly, correcting her with a firm tone. "Consider yourself more…an unexpected ally."

Violet processed this label, rolling it around her mind like a puzzle piece searching for its perfect fit. Ally—not captive nor servant, but a co-conspirator in a game the rules of which were still unclear to her. The shift in perspective was both empowering and daunting.

A small smile played at the corners of Austin's lips—an expression that transformed his usually stern features into something unexpectedly tender. "I promise all will be made clear in time," he assured her. "For now, rest and gather your strength.”

Violet nodded, though the concept of rest felt as elusive as the changing shadows outside the carriage window. She was too wound up with a mix of caution and curiosity. Every fiber of her being vibrated with the need to decipher Austin Butler, to understand his angles and anticipate his moves. As the carriage dipped into another shadow, Violet glanced back towards Austin. He was looking out the window, the profile of his face caught intermittently in the flickers of light that breached their isolation. There was a ruggedness to him that she hadn't noticed before—a weary battle scar here, a tightness around his eyes there—marks of a man acquainted with troubles she could only guess at. She found herself wondering about the demons that haunted him, about what grievous past actions could drive a man of his stature to seek redemption through the aid of someone as inconsequential as herself. It seemed implausible and yet, here they were, wrapped in layers of dark secrets and moonlit confessions.

The carriage creaked on, and Violet felt her eyelids grow heavy against her will. The rhythm of their travel lulled her into a reluctant drowsiness. Before she succumbed completely to sleep, she made herself a promise—not to let her guard down, not even in the comfort of this luxurious carriage or the intriguing company of Lord Butler. No matter how gentle his tone or how sincere his words might seem, Violet knew that survival meant never fully exposing her vulnerabilities.

As sleep claimed her, her mind spun with a collage of fears and fragmented dreams. She dreamt of dark corridors and whispered promises, of escaping shadows that morphed into comforting arms, and always, always, there was Austin—his piercing blue eyes offering both salvation and sorrow.

Stay tuned for part 4!! Click HERE to view!

Taglist: @buckysteveloki-me

[keysorsomething]

Before the Sun Rises / Caught

1 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 6 | 7

The double feature chapters I wrote :) Just wanna say thanks to everyone who's supported these fics, it makes me very happy to see all the likes and reblogs !!

Cross-posted on ao3

Before the Sun Rises

You awake the next morning with no pressure on your chest and nothing in your arms. Still half-asleep, you look around the room. You’re disoriented, like when you take a three-hour nap in the middle of a weekday and wake up covered in sweat and unaware of the concept of time. One thing you catch is that the room is still dark, but you would guess that it’s always dark in here. You haven’t seen a window, after all. You start to rub the sleep from your eyes, fighting a yawn as you try to find the man who seems to have disappeared into the night. Melting into the darkness, as he had each time before.

“Nikto?” You ask, sitting up. Or at least you try, before strong hands meet your shoulders and shove you back into the pillow. You spot his blue eyes staring down at you almost ridiculing, clearly not pleased with your attempt to get out of bed. It’s almost startling, the speed and force with which you’re slammed back, not the hardest you had been slammed into something, but it was sure lacking any form of gentle grace you would expect from the motion. In this context at least. But you’re too tired to really think about the strength in him like you had before or to think about how he had seemingly teleported into your sight and personal space with no sign of where he was prior.

“Stay,” Nikto’s voice growls out. You look up at him, confused and groggy. He lowers himself back on the bed, and then back onto your chest. “I was not done,” He huffs, taking the sleeve of your shirt between two fingers. He pulls on the fabric, turning it over in his hand. His eyes narrow at it, as if your sleeve had offended him.

“Okay,” You mumble, letting your eyes fall back shut. You spend a while like that, enjoying it. Laying on your back with him on your chest, feeling the gentle pull of his hand as he busies himself with your shirt sleeve. It’s a moment of peace, expanded when he stops pulling at your sleeve - it was actually kind of annoying - and instead, his hand rests on your bicep, unmoving. He lets out a soft sigh, and you assume he closed his eyes too. Your breathing synchronizes, as your hand goes back to rubbing his shoulders like you had been doing the night before.

“You will come back tonight,” He states firmly, breaking the shared moment of silence. Your eyes shoot open and your hands pause, unsure how exactly to respond. You did want to come back again. Hell, you wanted to move in with him. You dare to even think you want the world to melt away, for time to be this moment and this moment alone, always and forever, but should you really let him boss you around like that? Should you just agree? Should you agree enthusiastically, with a ‘yes, sir!’? Or do you say no on principle?

“Can you ask nicely?” In a patronizing tone is what comes out of your mouth instead. Like a mom talking to a toddler who just demanded ice cream or something. You don’t have many references for modern-day parenting in the army. Maybe you shouldn’t compare those two things, that was kind of weird. But it wasn’t mansplaining patronizing - and you knew mansplaining, since that was the only thing that came out of Graves’ mouth - it was the other kind. You had no other words for it.

Nikto groans, presumably rolling his eyes, “You will please visit us again tonight,” He corrects, but he doesn’t seem all too happy about it. “пожалуйста?” He breaks out the big guns. How do you deny a masked man who’s speaking in his mother tongue? It may be your biggest weakness.

You sigh, conceding, “Okay. I will,” And he lets out a pleased rumble. A sound you could very much get used to.

“Now go back to sleep,” He huffs grumpily. “пожалуйста..?” You almost listen instantly, but then another thought pops into your head.

“What time is it?” You ask, the thought of being caught once more nagging at the very back of your psyche. He lets out another less-than-pleased huff of a breath at you, this time through his nose. But, hey, is he really blaming you for worrying about both your careers? His head shifts so his eyes meet yours better, and you see a small smudge of eye black left over from him watching it on his right eyelid, hugging the lash line. It almost looks like eyeliner. You also see the curve of his nose. That is skin that is clearly scarred, looking like it would be rough to touch. Healed burns, probably. Chemical burns that stretch over from the right of his face. You aren’t too sure how the mask is doing that, as all of the points where it attaches to the blast plate seem intact, and it’s only a small dip from where it normally sits. You decide not to comment on it, however.

“Early. Four-fifty or so,” He replies firmly. “I would not let you overstay your welcome,” His words are aggressive in phrasing but soft in tone. An odd combo he seems to use often, which you can’t be sure if that is just him or because he isn’t a native English speaker. But, his brows soften too, his hand sliding up but hesitating to make contact with your face or hair. It retreats away. When you look into his eyes, you feel like he wants nothing more than to touch you, and you feel he agrees that this moment is ever so precious. But he doesn’t want to touch you. Perhaps he’s afraid, or perhaps he doesn’t like his face being touched, so he won’t touch yours. The Golden Rule and all that. But you still smile softly down at him, gently rubbing his back. A silent encouragement to do as he pleases, one that is not listened too. After just a beat, you speak again. There’s no point in making the fleeting movement a whole ordeal.

“Well, wake me up when I have,” You tell him, trying to keep your voice low and comforting, the way he likes. He nods in response, eyes staring up at you warily. You both share for a moment the fear of being found out, but you don’t voice it to him. And he does not voice it back.

“Of course,” Nitko mumbles, sliding back into the position he was before your question. You chuckle, wrapping your arms tight around him as he matches the gesture, and lean your head into his. You take a deep breath, letting the whole moment sink into you. The warmth and weight of the man on your chest, the sound of his breathing, the feeling of the cold, hard blast plate against your cheek. It’s all the best thing to ever happen in this place, and you have a feeling it’s the best thing to have ever happened to him.

You sigh, it's nice to share this moment with him. Every moment over the past few days had been precious. You let your head fall back - you had been keeping it up to look at him - but keep your eyes on him as best you can. You still your hand on his back, letting your arm fall limp. He shifts his head slightly on your chest, fully committed to using you as a pillow. The image of him and his peacefully rising chest is wiped away by your eyes falling back shut.

---

Caught

You reawaken to a soft patting of a gloved hand on your cheek. Your eyes open to Nikto just a few inches from his face, his hand gently twapping your cheek to wake you up. You groan, your muscles stretching as best you can under the weight.

“It is time you leave,” He mumbles, but you can see the disappointment in his eyes. “You do not have much time to get back to the barracks before the rest wake up.”

You pout, blinking up at him, “…How come you get a room all to yourself? It’s not fair,” You mumble, closing your eyes. His bed was so much more comfortable than your cot. And it was so much better than sleeping in a room with multiple other people. Just you and him. There’s a moment where you desire much more of this. So much more of this, in a much more domestic manner, but that fantasy is short-lived by a second round of pats on your cheek that don’t relent until your eyes open back up.

“It was a specific request,” Nikto replied, eyes narrowed on you as he tries to keep you from falling back asleep. As always, they are an icy blue that doesn’t match the feeling of having them on you at all. But by now they feel so much cooler than before, like a warm hug or a heated blanket instead of a hot iron. “I told them I would not take the job if they did not accommodate me.”

You nod, rubbing your eyes with a huff. That makes sense, you think. He seems like the guy to do that. Your eye opens now that your hand isn’t over it, and he hasn’t moved. Something a part of you deep inside is grateful for. You don’t know how well you could cope if he was gone just like that. Like how he had appeared earlier. That thought doesn’t last long, none of them do. He was just so much to think about. His eyes are wide, wild as they look down at you. He seems to think that you’re a lot to think about too. Or perhaps you’re assigning that to him, like when people speak for dogs and cats. You’ve been doing that with him a lot more often since that night in the armory. His eyes get a little less wide, and then even less wide. Until his eyes look closed, but you can tell they’re still partly open. God, he has pretty eyelashes.

He then, all at once, presses his still-masked face into yours. The fabric of the mask covering his mouth is rough against your lips. There’s no movement under it, almost as if he’s just smooshing his lips into yours like he isn’t sure how to do it. You feel the cold metal of the blast plate pushing into your forehead like a headache. It almost hurts, but there’s no way it’s enough. Somehow being too much and too little, but not just right. Your hand goes up to cup his cheek, but you don’t get the chance too. You didn’t even get the chance to close your eyes or lean into the kiss. It’s gone all at once, the same way it came. The pressure on your chest where he was laying there, on your forehead where the protruding parts of the metal dug into your skull, the rough fabric almost painfully hot on the skin of your lips, all of it. He pulls away before you can fully process it, before you can take it in for all of its glory. He rolls off of you, laying on the bed next to you facing away, partly curled up. You have to take a moment before you can do anything. You just kissed the Nikto. No, you were just kissed by The Nikto.

“Nikto?” You ask, voice soft and wavering, like if you speak too loud you’ll create a rip in space-time and it will have never happened. He cuts you off before you get any more in.

“Go,” He responds gruffly, and you nod, pulling off the bed. You’re a little stunned, and you do have places to be. You’d be worried that he was upset with you, but you have a feeling he’s just processing it, the same as you. Maybe he’s worried you’re upset with him? You almost feel like you need to cover up, and are subconsciously pulling the covers with you as you try to. You notice when you almost trip, but you catch yourself and throw them back on the bed. You take a deep breath, trying to ground yourself before speaking. And before leaving. You had appearances to keep up once you got back to the barracks and you had the three musketeers riding your dick.

“Okay,” You squeak, backing away. Your voice sounds so much more pathetic than you wanted it too, and you really can’t be having that. “See you tonight,” You say very quickly, hoping he’ll know you aren’t upset with him. You then promptly spin on your heels, and swing the door open. You go to step out of the room when you come face to face with a chest. You look up with a soft curse, only to find judging blue eyes staring back at yours from under a makeshift mask. The eyes are hard, angry. You’re in trouble.

“Oh, good morning, Colonel,” You manage to get out through a panicked breath. His arm is raised, you had interrupted him mid-knock. He lowers it, and it’s easy to tell his scowling down at you, eyes narrowing further. He bends slightly at the waist, and you hear the fabric shift and Nikto starts to speak when the room behind you goes silent. König looks behind you, and then back down at you, inching ever closer.

Then, you hear your voice hissed through teeth, a heavy Austrian accent filling your ears.

[vibratingskull]

Yandere!Thrawn x F!reader chapter 10

Yandere AU - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9

Tags : Yandere behaviors (duh), gaslighting, masturbation

You wince in pain. You frown and sigh frustrated at your casts. Those wretched things get in the way of absolutely everything! You cannot wait to get rid of them and go back to your former life! 

For Thrawn too it would be better... A Grand Admiral should be focusing on war and not losing time over a helpless officer. You are sure his patience must start to run thin with you. 

In fact you are absloutely sure of it! It has been weeks since you are in his suite and you still need those stupid casts, forcing him to help you in everything. At least you manage to eat by yourself now, that’s little but still a win. 

You sigh again, your eyes falling back on your drawing folder once again. Drawing with your non-dominant hand is a pain in the ass and the result suffers so much for it. You observe the drawing you’re currently tracing, pursing your lips. That is not good! 

You had to abandon portraits and models studies to focus on more abstract figures and forms. You’re not exactly vibing with that style but you’re starting to get the gist of it. You raise your pencil, wondering what to trace now when you start hearing a loud noise coming from the living room of Thrawn’s suite. 

What the hell is he doing? 

You lay your feet on the floor and tentatively try to stand up. You are trembling terribly but manage to stand on your two feet, although uncomfortably! You jump one step to the side, taking support on the bed, and another one, and another one, and another! 

Clumsily, you cross the bedroom to finally reach the door, taking support on the wall or furnitures. You take a second to take back your breath, joy slowly florishing in your heart. This is not optimum but you succeeded in moving from point A to point B all alone! Maybe you are starting to mend after all! 

The door slides open and you pass your head inside. Thrawn is kneeling close to the sofa, a little machine in hand. You clumsily jump towards the big table in the middle of the room to change point of you. Thrawn is in his black tank top, his pristine white jacket folded on one of the chair. He is screwing something in the wall, but you cannot see what. 

“What are you doing, sir?” You shout over the hellish sound of the drill. Thrawn instantaneously stops, raising an eyebrow at you over his shoulder. 

First off : what’s with that ‘sir’ bullshit? Aren’t you on a first name basis? Second : What are you doing in his living room? Since when can you move all by yourself? Is your time together up already? 

“What is it for?” You repeat, jumping funny towards him so see. You lean forward to discover a little metal hoop screwed to the wall. You look at him with a silent question in your eyes. 

“This is prevention.” He responds enigmatically, his unbothered expression already back on, “Just in case.”, “In case for what?” You ask smiling. He hooks two fingers in the metal contraption and pulls on it to test it. It doesn’t even tremble. He nods satisfied and stands back up, “Do not worry about it. I hope it will never come to use, but one is never too safe.” He closes the matter, “How did you came here?” 

You smile broadly, “I jumped! It sends unpleasant vibrations through my leg cast but it’s manageable.” Thrawn looks at you up and down with a closed expression “You should not do that, you will fall.”, “But you wouldn’t need to carry me everywhere!” you counter, “Until you break a bone again.” He finishes. 

You sulk, lowering your head. You hoped he would be happy for you. He is right of course, but he could have let you savor this little victory. Everything would have been simpler if you had a wheelchair but Thrawn argued you could not navigate it properly in the suite. And faire, it would be difficult. 

But still... 

“May I see your latest piece?” Thrawn asks, his tone infinitely softer. You raise your gaze to him, not understanding. “Your drawing folder.” He explains, gesturing to the object in your hand. You didn’t realized you still had it! 

“It’s not good.” You warn. “Nonsense, I am sure it is delightful as all your other art pieces.”he retorts. You flush, hearing him qualify your stupid drawing as ‘art pieces’. “Those are silly doodles, nothing more.” you chuckle, embarassed. “Allow me to contradict you. As an art connoisseur I can recognize talent when I see it. And your art shines to my eyes like any grand master work.” 

You clear you throat, heat flourishing in your cheeks, “Will you allow me?” He asks again. You press the folder against your chest, still uneasy to let Thrawn rummage through your sketches. 

He tilts his head at your silence, “Is there a problem?” He invastigates. “No... Not really.” you mumble. “Perfect! So can I?” He insists. 

He never loses an occasion to rummage through your drawings, especially since he entrapted you with him in his suite. He delighted himself in your evolving view of his personhood through your abstract shapes. He picked upon the fact that you started to question yourself more than his actions lately, much to his pleasure. 

He doesn’t deprive himself of gaslighting you into letting him access your folder. Today is no different. 

“I suppose you can...” You back down and he gently takes it off your hand. He wins again! 

“What are you doing here by the way?” You ask, realizing he should be on the bridge at this hour. “It is my day off.” He explains patiently. “Oh!” You exclaim, “The legendary Grand Admirals’ days off, seen only every six months if lucky enough!” You joke. “Indeed, they are quite rare.” He nods, “But that only makes them more valuable. I shall take my time to properly appreciate and admire your pieces once I am done with those hooks.”, “You’re going to screw more?” you investigate curious. “All over the suite, especially around the bed.”  

You ponder what use those little hooks would have, especially near a bed but Thrawn can do watherver he wants in his suite. You are not going to question him for something so inconsequential. 

“Do you want a treat?” He asks out of the blue. Your purse your lips, thinking for a split second, Thrawn proposing a treat? Unheard off! But you are a gourmand through and through! “Why not?” You accept.  

He gently helps you sit on the sofa and brings you a chocolate cake. You frown with a light smile, “You have such treats in your fridge?”, “I know you enjoy a good cake so I always keep one at arm’s reach.” He simply responds like it was obvious. “Oh... Thank you...” You flush again, “You are welcome Ch’acah.”, “What does that means exactly?” you tilt your head as you gingerly takes the plate off his hand to not drop the precious cake. “It means friend in Cheuhn.” He lies with his most insolent smile. “Can I call you Ch’acah, then?” You ask with an elated smile. “I would be delighted, Ch’acah.” He grins, dark satisfaction growing in his heart, “It would be an honor.” 

You nod with glee before focusing on your cake. As you eat it you hear Thrawn continuing screwing hooks all around the suite. You savor your cake like the rare treat that it is on the Chimaera, taking your sweet time, letting each bites melt into your mouth. You are only in the middle of the cake when Thrawn reappears in the living room. 

‘’Do you mind if I exercise ?’’ he asks you as he approaches his exercise bench in front of you. ‘’Not at all, Ch’acah !’’ you grin. 

He doesnt show it but his heart is pounding in his chest when you call him ‘love’ in his mothertongue. It just sounds so …right! He had lovers in his past that called him ‘Ch’acah’ too, but none ever got this reaction out of him. 

You are just that superior to anyone else to him ! 

He simply smiles at your innocent enthusiasm and decides to offer you a little spectacle for it… 

Out of nowhere, Thrawn takes out his shirt, revealing his perfectly carved chest and you almost choke on your bite. He throws it somewhere in the room and prepares his bench while tou cough your lungs out. 

‘’Are you alright ?’’ he cannot help but tease you. You nod hurriedly, a fist pressed against your mouth. He pretends to go back to his preparation, hiding his satisfied grin to you. You are and remain a woman who appreciate masculine bodies, and his body is particularly well made. He took great care of it for decades after all. He flexes his well defined muscles to your view, pretending to warm them up to tease and confuse you. 

He has been the ‘good friend’ long enough, it is time he becomes something more in your eyes ! Something powerful and irresistible, a man on top of his game. 

You do not know where to look. He never undressed in front of you before, you were so unprepared by this sudden indecence from him. You’ve seen plenty of men’s chest but Thrawn always favored his modesty. Seeing his chest exposed so suddenly like that is almost…lecherous. 

You slap yourself mentally. He can expose himself if wants to, you are in his suite after all. What is it to you anyway? You bite down another bite of the cake, trying to look at absolutely everything else but him. But the blue of his skin is so deep and vibrant … Your eyes are inextricably attracted towards him.  

He finishes his warm up nonchalantly, flexing his wonderfully defined shoulders and shoulderblades, letting you appreciate the glory of his back. 

 With a discreet and quick glance at you he notes satisifed that the heat of your cheeks is rising, such as the heat between your thighs. 

Good. 

Excellent even. 

He lays down on his bench and starts his rep like you weren’t here, focusing in his breath while you are almost drooling on your cake with that spectacle. You bite the inner of your cheeks, trying to only look at your delicious cake but you feel your mouth and throat going dry before such view. You gulp with difficulties, Thrawn is terribly well made you realize... 

You noticed before the elegance and perfection of his face but now you are forced to admit the rest of his body may be a paragon just as much. You swallow your bite slowly while he keeps showcasing his muscular body with different exercises, your eyes betraying you and always raising back to ogle him as discreetly as you can. 

You chastise yourself. Thrawn is a friend! He is your Ch’acah! How dare you ogle at him in such a way?! He innocently follows his training routine and you cannot help yourself but sexualizing him. 

But he is so well made it is so hard to not stare... 

You instinctively press your thighs together, trying to silence your core slowly waking up at such perfection. His body is just...  

Glorious 

You have no other word than glorious. Suddenly your flesh and body understand why the Captain was lusting after him. It is really hard not to when you are subjected to such a vision. 

Get a fucking grip, (Y/n)! Friends don’t do that to each other! 

“Is there a problem Ch’acah?” Thrawn’s deep melodious voice snaps you out of your trance and you realize that despite your best efforts your eyes where fixed on him again! “N-No!” You immediately responds forcing them back on your plate. “You were fixing me so intently.” He continues. 

He takes great satisfaction at your startled expression. Of course he saw how difficult it was for you to not look at him. As it should! He wants you to realize what you could have if you just succombed to temptation, what delights he could give you, what he refused to so many people before you but is ready to give today. 

Just.for.you. 

 Would it be anyone else but you he would be greatly displeased at being observed like that, but he wants you confused and drooling over him. 

And you are doing so great right now! 

You wail in your mind. Dear Maker he noticed you checking him out! 

“I was just observing your technique.” You reply in a heartbeat, “It is quite different than mine and I might experiment with it once I can resume training.” 

Nice save, he will give you that. “I can teach you all of my techniques if you wish.” He proposes politely, “It will take several hours but we are alone here, we will not be disturbed.” He lets his Chiss accent peak through, rolling his ‘r’ like a purring feline, like a promise, sounding exotic and lyrical. 

You swallow your bite once again, nodding weakly as you desperatly tries to rationalize this entire situation. He doesn’t miss how your thighs muscles clench and unclench repeatedly, how your core shines brighter in his eyes now that all your warm blood is flooding to your southern muscles... He cannot help but lick his lips a that detail. 

He lifts his weights with ease. He feels powerful under your gaze, pure and raw strenght running in his veins and mucles as you observe him. Is it childish of him? Most certainly. But he cannot help it. You are the anchor in his life, your mood dictates his entire course of actions, no wonder an admirative glance from you would boost his power and feed his ego. “Do not deprive yourself from looking, you will learn a great deal of my techiques by observation alone.” He nonchalantly invites. 

“Okay...” You reply weakly, at war with yourself and your morality. Even if he gave you his consent to observe him it doesn’t sit well with you. You cannot help but cheking him out instead of platonically detailing his methods as you pretended. 

He breathes deeply and longly between each movement and you cannot help yourself but wondering if he would sound like that in bed... Stop that immediately!  

He knows very well what he is doing. He knows the of turmoil raging inside of you. Serves you right! This is what you get for bringing him to his knees every single day. “Focus on my breathing, respiration is an integral part of training.” He teases you when he sees you closing your eyes to not see him anymore. You shudder at his sounds, as they invade your ears and mind with dirty thoughts. 

The heat signals of your face and sex are through the roof just as he hoped and planned. Good. 

He finishes his training session as you ostensibly tries to look away, but he is not quite done with you yet. He wants to keep toying with you a bit more. You let out a breath of relief when you realizes he stopped. Now he is going to put back his shirt on and go take a shower and leave you alone to calm down! What a relief! Phew! 

But as you blink you see him approaching you. He leans forward you, getting dangerously close.” Do not move Ch’acah.” He murmures. 

Is he... fixing your lips?! 

Before you can do or say anything, his hand come cupping your boiling hot cheek and his thumb very gently brushes your lips, pulling them slightly appart. You cannot help the gasp escaping you. “You have cream on your lips.” He simply indicates just above a whisper. He takes out his thumb now full of cream and licks it thouroughly without breaking eyes contact with you. 

You are so shocked you cannot move or blink to save your life. He lets out his thumb out of his mouth with a sounding pop and a smile. “Very sweet and tasty.” He grins lightly. 

You are hit by lightning and jumps on your two feet in a hurry. He looks at you with a raising brow, waiting for an explanation. “It was delicious, thank you very much! Now I think I need a nap!” You precipitadly announce, flushing terribly. “Allow me to escort you to bed.” He straightnes his back, towering over you with his height. “No, no,no,no!” you immediately stop him, “I’ll go by myself!” and you start jumping away in the most inelegant way he ever saw. You can’t have him carrying you to bed after such a spectacle or you will sponteanously combust! 

He chuckles under his breath, satisfied with himself. At least until he hears a loud thud and realizes he was indeed right : you fell face first in the dirt. 

“Ch’acah! Are you alright?” He is at your side immediately, kneeling down to help you. What a stupid idea to jump around with a leg and an arm in a cast! He makes you roll on your back and hears your laugh. 

“I am so clusmy sometimes!” You laugh, more scared than hurt. He releases his breath, relieved. “Let me carry you. He decides, “Just help me on my feet an I am good to go!” You argue with an chuckle. He stares at you coldly, his grip on your shoulder tightening.  

The message his clear. 

“Alright, Grand Admiral...” You submit, your laugh dying down and your gaze low. “That is better.” he closes the matter. He scoops your bruised body and lift you without any difficulties, your head is rigth on his large, muscular pec and his musk invades your nose instantaneously making you squirm embarassed in his arms. He carries you easily to the bedroom and very gently lays you down the matress, “I will take a thorough look at your bruises during the bath.” he announces his sentence. 

Oh no... 

“It’s alright! I didn’t even hurt my head!” You try to get out of this with a light chuckle, trying to ease the atmosphere. But he looks as dead serious as ever, pretending to modestly pulling on the little dress he chose for you to falsely cover your thighs. “Permit me to doubt your judgement, the groan you made when you hit the floor was really telling. Do not worry, I will dress any wound I will find.”, “I swear it’s fine! I don’t feel any pain or-”  

He suddenly spins his head towards yours, bringing it dangerously close and seizing your chin in his fist, red shiny eyes fixated on yours making you shut up instantly in surprise and fear. “Will you ever stop making things difficult?” He demands with an icy cold tone, “I know what I am doing. The less difficult you are the quicker you will mend.” His eyes are dark, shooting you with his red glare. You can only gulp. 

“I am sorry... Sir.” He looks at you black for several more seconds before letting his carefully crafted expression melt into a false sympathetic smile, “I am sorry Ch’acah. But I take your healing journey seriously, I feel partly responsible for what happened to you. Just let me help you in return, alright?” he intentionaly softens his tone to ease your nerves. “Alright, sir...” you abdicate. 

“Please” he pulls the cover over your body to tuck you in good, “We are friend, (Y/n). Call me Ch’acah.” he presses. ���Okay... Ch’acah.” you whispers on eggshells. 

 “Good girl.” He leans forward to very gently kiss your forehead, brushing his lips like butterflies on your skin. You wince at the petname, remembering that Chiss are more liberal with them than humans according to Thrawn’s words. Once again you get a whiff of his masculine musk, making your head spin again and your core contract demanding sweet attention. “I will take a shower. Do not hesitate to call me if you need anything.” 

You grasp his wrist to hold him back as he raise back to head to the shower. “Well, I know I already asked and I insisted before but... Could you give me back a comlink?” You ask. 

He interiorly sighs. He managed until now to shut down your demand for a comlink, but as more time pass, the more legitimate your demand gets. To make you wait he lended you a datapad, but making sure you couldn’t communicate with anybody with it. “Why would you want a comlink?” He asks innocently like he doesn’t understand, sitting on the edge of the bed. “To speak with people, obviously! I want to speak to my family, to Karyn too. It gets lonely here when you are on the bridge.” I also need to keep myslef inform on the current mission of the Chiamera.” You argue. 

“Comlinks are forbidden during remission.” He counters, “You should take this as an opportunity to meditate and recenter your focus on your discipline. A comlink would only distract you.” You frown, wrinkling your nose “I am not a child alright? I can have discipline and a comlink at the same time!”  

He shakes his head with a sorry expression, “The Imperial protocols are clear : no comlink during remission.” You groan and let yourself fall on the pillow, frustrated, “Captain Faro is terribly busy at the moment.” He gently explained, “She volunteered to take on your workload while you are healing, she has very little time for a friendly chat. But I can greet her on your behalf, she would be relieved to hear you feel better.” He diplomatically proposes. Which is a complete lie of course, Faro heard about your death from himself, something she is still brooding over. 

“And my familly? Did anyone warned them I was hurt? That I am better now?” you insist. “We do not signify families about every single wound an enlisted suffers Ch’acach, you know it.” He recalls you with just enough condescension in the the tone to still be subtle. You sigh, “This was not a simple wound, they have the right to know!”, “You will heal and walk out of it like it was nothing, why do you want them to worry? To them you are striving right now.”, “Am I striving to you?” You clap back, more and more annoyed. He slightly bows his head to you, “I mispoke, my apologies. My point is ; you will soon heal completely, there is no use to worrying them now. But I can transmit them a message from you if you wish.”  

You exhale through your nose, “Forget it. You are right, no need to warn them now. I will speak with them during my leave.” He gently brushes a strand of hair out of your face, “You need rest, Ch’acah. Sleep soundly, I will remain in the adjacent room if you need anything.” You nod and he enters the bathroom. You roll to the side when you hear the water running, your mind in ebullition. 

The entire bedroom smells like Thrawn and his delicious musk... Making your head spin dangerously. When you close your eyes to actually try to sleep like you pretended you will the vision of his mighty body imposes itself to you, making you shudder in shame. 

How dare you do that to your friend? Sexualising him like that! He saw you naked everyday (to your horror) since you are in his suite but he never was troubled by it. As he said to you he appears completely desensitized to naked bodies.  

You sigh, trying to get some sleep but the idea of Thrawn’s naked body next door is setting you ablaze, to your dismay. You wail, remembering that he will bath you once again and sleep in the same bed as you because you are so goddamn cold every night despite him checking the temperature each evening. 

Nothing will get spared to you in this trial... 

Far away from your confusion and guilt, Thrawn is enjoying his shower, imagining back your weight in his arms, the plump of your exposed thighs when you fell, the thinness of your human skin, the smoothness and infinite softness of it... He wanted to lick you so badly, every crook and crannies of your fragile body. A wretched smiles come stretches his lips. You would slap him across the face if he ever qualified you as fragile to your face 

And he would surely adore that... 

He sighs, letting hot water rolling on his thick Chiss skin. He wants you to dig your nails deep into his flesh so badly! To claw his back entirely, he wants to wear the scars of your passion in his flesh. He caresses his lips, remembering the plumpness of your own when he brushed them with his thumb. You were so surprised by his action you said absolutely nothing, letting him do as he pleased. 

He feels fire igniting in his sex as he remembers your heavy gaze checking him out. You tried to be subtle about it, but nothing escapes him. Ever. He lets his hand brushing his pecs to slowly going down his abs, feeling the powerful muscles rolling under his blue skin, retracing the path of your gaze on his body. He lightly chuckles as he saw your flushing cheek getting worse as you couldn’t help yourself but gaze longingly at him. His hand reaches his groin and he takes it firmly in his palm, gently playing with his tip, toying with himself.  

He always hated the way his past relationships complimented him on his physic, he remembers how he used to sleep with them in his clothes to not expose himself to their undeserving gazes. 

Now that he knows true passion for you he came to the realisation he never was truly in love with anyone else before, that none really catched his eyes, it was more of a way for him to get relief without real, deep sentiments from his part. He admits, now looking back, that the feeling of dirtiness he felt after every night with his former partners was not ‘normal’. That he just convinced himself he had to go throught that to not appear more... Out of place that he always has been.  

He is also naturally curious and wanted to understand, to try for himself, see what the fuss was about “couples” and “relationship” and “sex”. How disappointed he was, was that all? That was the things getting people crazy about? He remembers having to force himself to go to bed with his ‘lovers’ to get them off his back and being at peace, or they started to complain they were “neglected”. But he couldn’t help it, the act and the sentiments were just so utterly uninteresting and repulsive to him. He did derive pleasure from sex, but it definitely lacked something to truly be worth anything in his eyes. And even though he definitively appreciated the companionship and admiration his past lovers gave him, he now knows it wasn’t love on his part and he hated when they started to get “too” attached, too lovey dovey with him, it just got under his skin and when he was in their arms the only thing he could think about was the moment they would let go. So after several terribly unfruitful attempts he just threw everything to the bin and pursued his career and mission without a single look back. And he thrived, free of this burden. 

Until he met you. 

When he started to get interested in you everything became clear, obvious, evident... They simply weren’t you, his darling, his other half, his intended, his soulmate. He had to cross the entire chaos to finally meet you and understand what “love” truly meant but it was definitely worth it. 

With you he wants to try everything! Every fancies, every kinks, every dates, every whims! Absolutely everything! He knows you would never disappoint him. 

He sniffs in disdain thinking back at his now dead Captain, he spent a full hour scrubbing his entire body to wash her off him after she imposed herself on him! It was just so disgusting... 

He deeply inhales. She is dead now, and she had it coming. He should focus on you, laying next door, so close but also so far away at the same time... 

He gasps, desperantly wanting to feel your smaller hand around his girth. Will you ogle his cock with hunger like you just did his chest or recoil in fear of his size? Will you drool at the idea of having it in your mouth or panick at the possibility of it entering your little pussy? Will you cry of pleasure or pain when he will take you for the first time? Either way he will gladly lick your tears away, whispering sweet nothing in your ears to ease the tension and help you relax. 

He is so much more taller and larger than the average human and Chiss man, you will absolutely strangle his lenght in your tight little pussy no matter the time he takes to prepare you. What will you prefer as roleplay to get you nice and wet? He really hopes you will let him eat you out! He craves it so badly he sometimes wonders where he find the will to not jump on you right here and there... 

He closes his eyes as he starts fisting his cock, imagining your soft hand instead of his own. What kind of pace would you set? Will you play with his tip first or getting into it right away? Will you squeeze his lenght tight here and there or gently caressing it like a precious thing? Will you gently kiss his cheek and lips while giving him a handjob or will you avert your gaze and hide your face in the crook of his neck? 

So many delicious possibilities, so many different ravishing scenarios... 

He greets his teeth as he accelerates his back and forth movement of his hand, chasing his pleasure. He doesn’t have your scrupules and avidly masturbates at the simple thought of you. He doesn’t even need a lecherous vision, sometime just painting your gorgeous eyes in his mind gets him hot and bothered, carrying him to completion with ease.  

But nothing gets him going as the thought of him getting handcuffed to the bed and you riding him as you wish, imposing him your own pace and your own desires. He wants your hand squeezing his throat until he looses consciousness or slapping him across the face. He wants you to dominate him entirely, looking down at him in all your glory... Is that too much to ask? He wants you to gag him, to chain him up, to degradate him until he is just a puddle of mess and completely on edge.  

He never accepted his former lovers to take the lead. They never deserved to see that vulnerable part of him, he never wanted to reveal it to any of them. 

But you... 

For you he will relinquish all his powers and kneel before you to kiss your feet! 

He gasps as the pleasure courses though his entire body, fisting his cock harshly. He lets silent pleas escaping his lips, calling your name in a mute prayer as he agressively caress his dick. He takes support on the wet wall with one hand, the steam invaded the entire bathroom making it almost impossible to breath but he keeps going, panting with desire. He greets his teeth, imagining you naked in his Grand Admiral jacket, seating proudly on his command chair on the bridge, allowing him to lick your glorious little pussy in front of the entire crew. He rolls his hand in a fist and bites down his knuckle to silence himself. He wants you to force his face against your sex, suffocating him entirely but he would work so well on you, he will docilely obey your every commands. He envisions himself rising his gaze to met yours, full of disdain and contempt for him... 

He shudders, like hit by lightnings and comes at that vision. He comes all over his large hand, spilling his seed in the stall as he gasps, breathless.  

If only it was your hand... If only it was inside your sweet pussy... 

He lingers on that last thought...’If only it was inside your sweet pussy?’ 

He observes his seed smeared across his palm, absolutely fascinated like it was the first time he saw it. Yes... Why not after all? Why not inside your sweet little pussy? What if... You became pregnant? Round with his baby... He feels his breath catching in his throat, he likes that thought.  

He likes it A LOT.  

He envisions with new plump curves adorning your gorgeous body, your belly heavy with a baby. HIS baby. He imagines you walking around his suite with your proeminent belly, asking him for help because it gets in your way. He will need to satisfy every one of your needs and satisfy you throroughly to ensure a healthy baby! 

He can do that! Bend over backwards to please you and your babies, no questions asked! He shivers in anticipation at that simple thought. 

He realizes that this idea will not leave him anymore, no matter what he will do. 

He brings his hand to his lips and he gives a little lick at his palm, tasting his semen. 

Salty. 

Would it be to your taste? Would it be compatible with your organism? Are Chiss and humans compatible? 

Well, he has only one way to know it, doesn’t he? 

He takes back his breath, letting the water washing away his seed and finishes to clean himself. He slicks his hair back perfectly in front of the mirror, like absolutely nothing happened and takes out your stolen toothbrush of its secret spot to brush his teeth with it, savoring your taste in his mouth.  

As he exit the steaming bathroom he discovers you napping. You did end up going to sleep after all. He approaches silently, looming over your smaller form, his shining red gaze like a predator... He leans forward, devored by curiosity. 

Do you still have a scar on your neck? 

He pushes your hair out of the way to reveal your fragile neck to his vision, he lets the tip of his fingers traveling on your skin until he locates the thin scar let by the blade he stole from you. He gently caresses it, the taste of your blood invading his mouth once again. He buries his head in the crook of your neck and give a long, sloppy lick at your scar making you squirm and moan in your sleep. 

He caresses your cheek with his knuckles tenderly. Oh how much he loves you... Sometimes he feels like he gone absolutely crazy. 

And maybe he did... 

He gently kisses your cheek and leaves you to sleep undisturbed. He has your new drawing to study and dissect, he will have the pleasure to bathe you later down the day... 

@Bluechiss @blueninjablade3 @al-astakbarstakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @twilekchiss @pencil_urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo  @germie2037 

[rosedere]

Murder mountain

(Yandere Azul Ashengrotto x Afab Reader)

Modern AU

TW: Dark Content, Attempted Murder, Harassment, Non Con/Rape.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (you are here), Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Cross Posted on AO3.

Synopsis: It was simple. Azul Ashengrotto hated you. Reaching your breaking point, you decide enough is enough: you're going to kill your boss. But little do you know the dark secret your tyrant of a boss is hiding.

Part 3 Summary:

You find yourself unable to move, your plan is compromised and your boss might not be so forgiving.

*warning*

Very dark chapter ahead if you dont want to read about SA or the R word please go to the next part thankssss

-

Can you roll me a paper doll?

From your fall harvest

In the murder mountain

You say it's dangerous out there.

For a silly girl like me

-

"Azu-" you murmured trying to shake the feeling back into your limbs.

Before you could utter another word you felt azul's lips hungrily collide with your own. Trying to pullback was impossible only feeling him begin to almost taste you like candy.

Trying you hardest to push his chest off your body you nudged him with the most strength you had in your fingers.

"Azul, please let me go-" you mewled as he began to wrap his hands around the ones on his chest.

Before you could speak however, a strong clasp around your wrists was felt as he held them tightly, his expensive silver coated watch dingling off his own wrist.

“Why? Is it because it's not in your little plans?” his amber musk and lily cologne now fanning into your nostrils.

 

Your mask almost fell completely off.

 

“I knew exactly what you were planning to do the moment you came to my office alone,”

Azul looked down at you boring his crystal hues into your eyes with something dark.

 

Is he going to rip the mask off of me?

 

Is this going to be it for my plan?

 

Why try so hard?

 

You were in a trance as you stared back at him with confusion written all over your face.

"What?" You meekily whimpered

“I never knew you would be the one to sneakily plan to seduce me for a weekend to keep your position,” he suddenly, snaked his hands towards the him of your plain white t-shirt.

No

 

Your stomach and heart sank to the pits of hell.

 

Why me

 

“I don't mind indulging you; I do need a new source of stress relief.” His hands were now snaking underneath your shirt, caressing your breast that were freed from your thin bra.

"Just relax (name)"

 Azul then moved his hands to lift your shirt up.

 

No.

 

No.

You werent sure what made you do it but you were able to push him enough to completely move him out of the way getting up on unsteady feet and bolting out of the bed.

Azul laid against the footboard stunned before fixing his glasses to look for you.

Racing from the room to the front door, you shakily grabbed the wooden knob, only for it to be...

 

Locked

Shit.

You have at least 3 minutes to figure out how this lock works without using a key.

You remembered the door was able to open when you walked out to unpack why was it locked now?

As you violently shake the knob and stick your nails into the key opening, it doesn't work.

Damn it

You pound at it, taking your anger out at being in this predicament in the first place.

“I wouldn't try that if I were you; you act as if there isn't a key in the Guest bedroom,” Azul practically purred from the master bedroom door frame.

 

Whatever

 

You ran past Azul, who had been not moving from his spot in the door frame, only with the smug smirk he always wore as he watched you frantically run to the guest bedroom.

Instinct had you go to the wardrobe, which made you believe luck was on your side when you immediately found the key next to his car key in the bottom compartment.

You stumbled over your bag that was laying across the floor almost making you fall backwards, your arms shaking as you grabbed the two keys.

Screw this plan; he's absolutely insane.

 

Slam.

Click

 

As soon as you turn towards the sound, however....

Azul was there.

 

In front of the door. 

 

Locking it.

You were face-to-face with Azul Ashengrotto.

And you knew what was unfortunately next if you didn't act fast enough.

Trying to access the situation, you remembered you had the sharp metal key in your hand.

Sizing Azul up, you realized he was way stronger than you, despite not having a weapon. The worst he could do was go for your neck, but you had an advantage with your little piece of metal hope in your hands to at least threaten him.

You tucked the key between your knuckles.

And so, raising your hand in a surrender position, you slowly tried to back yourself towards the bathroom.

“Azul.. Come on, let's just be reasonable here. You know I'm not into you like that, and neither are you,” you said slowly.

 

Way to be convincing

"I'm not as dumb as you think, Y/N. I know your type; you just want to play hard to get," Azul said, walking towards you, rapidly closing the space between you.

"It's okay to admit how you feel, darling; it's natural to want someone intimately," Azul said, zeroing in on you.

Unconsciously, you backed away, realizing he was

 

Thud

 

Your back hits the wardrobe.

 

“Let me just convince you how great of a lover I am," Azul said, almost closing the gap between you two.

No.

With as much strength as you had, you finally swung your arm in his direction before Azul could completely close the gap between you two.

You swiped at him with the key, barely missing his nose but completely knocking on his glasses.

You quickly tried to shuffle around him.

He glared back at you with aggression in his eyes.

 

Great, now he's angry.

 

Instead of giving you a window of time to run by picking his glasses off the floor, he charged at you, grabbing your arm with the key.

You struggled against him, almost being hit against the walls and nearly avoiding it.

No!

You grasped the key as hard as you possibly could, feeling your knuckles turning white as Azul grabbed at it repeatedly to disarm you.

Unfortunately, after a struggle that felt like forever, you started getting exhausted trying to fend him off from prying the key from you.

You left yourself open as you tried your best to keep your fist closed, unbeknownst to you.

He grabbed you by the hair, painfully tugging at your hair, causing you to yell in pain. You also dropped your only weapon on the ground as he threw you harshly onto the wooden bed, barely missing hitting the bedpost violently.

Trying to ignore the pain from your throbbing head, you writhed against his hand that was pulling your hair up, clawing and scratching at him, hoping it'd hurt enough to be let go of.

Azul then finishes closing the gap and straddles you from above on the bed.

“I didn't know you were this feisty behind that little submissive facade you have on you,” he said, violently pulling you up by the hair.

 

You screamed so loudly that you swore this was it for your hair, at least with how hard his grip was on your delicate head.

Not wanting to let him win you fought harder, even if it meant having patches of hair gone for a few months.

 

Wincing from the continuous painful yanks to your hair you shot your arms at his chest, which was directly in front of you, trying to reach for his neck.

Assuming even if you couldn't get your hands around him, he'd at least let go of your hair and focus on trying to get your small hands off his windpipe.

 

But you didn't get a chance, as he threw you down by the hair back on the bed so hard that, before being able to react, he pinned you against him with his knee and free arm.

 

With a defeated yelp, you tried to struggle once again and loosen his vice grip on your small hands, but it didn't do much.

Now being able to see his face was even more terrifying than the previous times you'd seen him in the office or on magazines and talk shows.

Being face-to-face with the monster, you could really see the man behind his angelic eyes.

 

His face was twisted in a sadistic smile that was different from the ones you'd see when he terrorized you.

 

How could someone so pleasant to the eye be so ugly?

 

Well

 

There's only one thing you haven't tried.

You closed your eyes and gathered as much saliva as you had in your mouth. With a quick closed-mouth motion

You spat straight into his eye.

Surprising Azul, it seemingly stops him for a moment, closing his eye and reaching a hand up to this saliva-coated eye.

But when he opened his eye,

All you could see on his face was

Rage.

 

“You little bitch,” he screamed at you.

He throws you down once more, being at his mercy, pinning you against the headboard, and in one swift motion, you could only gasp as you realized what he was going to do to you.

Azul then sucker-punches you so hard that you swear you see stars.

Shit.

 

-

 

You were positive that you had to be dead.

 

On this mountaintop, hidden off the beaten path,

 

No family or friends even knew you were missing.

 

Nor was your boss the one who took your life.

 

At least that's what you thought until you felt your eyes flutter open.

 

You didn't realize the punch had knocked you out or how long you've been out since the altercation.

 

All you could see was the wooden paneling on the ceiling. At least being aware you were still in the master bedroom gave you relief.

 

You tried getting up, but you were straight up unable to.

 

And you were cold.

 

Too cold..

 

You moved your fingers.

 

Good, at least you had control of your fingers.

 

But your arms…

 

You tried moving your head, but you just felt pain.

You were so certain you at least had a bruise on that side of your face.

 

He hit you well enough, but at least you lived.

 

"Oh, I hear some movement. Are you finally ready to behave?” Azul's voice chimed from somewhere in the room.

 

You still couldn't see him, but you could hear his footsteps getting closer to the bed.

You violently stirred, hoping you could move your arms before he got there.

 

Step

Step

Step

 

"I'm sorry, dear. I had to do this to prevent you from hurting me, but if you show me you'll cooperate, I might just untie your legs,” he said now, clearly in view, looking down at you with a manic glint in his eye.

"Please, Azul, what do you want from me? I'll do anything! I'm sorry, I'm scared to die,” you pleaded, trying to shift your body away from him.

“Anything is a dangerous word, isn't it? Don't say it unless you mean it,” he said, sitting next to your body in the bed before taking a finger to gently rub your abdomen in a soothing motion.

A chill went down your spine from the realization you came to as he idly traced patterns into your sensitive stomach with his index finger.

It was cold because you were naked.

"Where are my clothes?" You cried out.

“Come on, there has to be more women at work and in public you can do this with? Let's just think this through. If you let me go now, I won't tell another soul what happened here." You began trying to plead to convince him to change his mind, but when you glanced at your tormentor's face, your heart sank as you felt tears well up in your eyes.

All you saw was darkness swirling inside his soul.

He didn't care at all what you had to say.

He had already been set on what he was about to do to you.

He wanted you.

And he was going to have you, whether you wanted him or not.

 

The mask fell.

 

For good this time.

 

You finally started to wail and sob.

You could feel yourself shaking in fear and crying.

 

This wasn't good at all.

 

He was going to torture you and kill you, and he wasn't going to listen to your pleas at all.

You'd never cried this hard before, and you felt like this was the end your body had been warning you about all morning.

 

Never see your family and friends again.

 

Or him…

 

With your eyes still closed as fat tears fell from your face, and between all the hyperventilating breathes you took, you felt A pair of lips ghosting against your cheek before eventually feeling a warm peck as your tear's stream down your face.

Azul was kissing you.

It was gentle, and you'd dare say it was comforting if it were from anyone else.

“Shh, just let me take care of you; it won't be that bad. Just relax, sweetheart," Azul cooed near your ear.

You couldn't stop sobbing but eventually tried to calm your shaking body.

He gave a few more tender kisses on your face as your tears silently cascaded down your cheeks.

Eventually, you opened your eyes to be greeted by Azul over you, still giving you endless kisses on your face.

Then you could see him lift your bound arms above your head.

 

He wasn't lying; they both were secured using clear zip ties you'd seen around the office.

Even if you could run out of the room, you'd never be able to get far without cutting them completely off.

You felt him creep onto the mattress so you could see him over you, and now you could feel the pressure from where he was tightening your arms to the bed posts on either side of the queen-sized bed.

 

You felt hopeless.

 

Azul then turned himself around, and you felt a relief in the pressure on your bound ankles.

Weird how honest he was about bounding you.

At least he was untying my legs.

 

He returned to your field of vision and, immediately after caressing your face with his hands, laid a soft kiss on your lips.

You'd never been kissed before, let alone even had sex before. But you knew this wasn't the person you wanted to do this with.

After some time, this kiss became more feverish and hungry. As his lips kept clashing against yours for what felt like hours, he parted first from the kiss, leaving a string of saliva attached to your lips.

"God, how have I been waiting to taste you for so long? You definitely did not disappoint," he said in the most lustful tone you'd heard from him.

 

"Azul, please, I've never done this before,” you pleaded once more with him. This time, you mustered the most heartbroken expression you could at him.

 

Your hope was maybe to coax some kind of guilt out of him.

 

But it wasn't working at all.

 

He put his hands around your face and looked deep into them.

 

"Well, I promise to make this the most unforgettable experience ever."

Notes: aha sorry for the cut off again but the word count was too long so the next part will contain the drama and action <3

[beautifulplaceofyouth]

JJK FF | ROYAL GUARD

CHAPTER THIRTEEN | SERIES 

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch. 5

Ch. 6

Ch. 7

Ch. 8

Ch. 9

Ch. 10

Ch. 11

Ch. 12

Ch. 13

When you keep bumping into your personal royal guard by accident not knowing he is your guardian angel

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook!fallen angel!royal guard! × fem!reader!virgin!princess 

Word count: 2.2k

Rating: 18+

Genre + warnings: Fluff, angst, paranormal romance, historical fanfiction, Kook being cold and mysterious, and just being his sexy self. Possessive over his princess. Y/n parents disapproves of their marriage but they still going with it so a little ceremony is prepared. Happily married, they make love under the stars and maybe there's pregnancy going on 👀. The story isn’t real, just my imagination running wild so just enjoy reading!

a/n: I was on hiatus for a long time because of some private stuff but here it is. This is a little short because we are making to an end for the series so I hope you still enjoyed it!

Your father was hesitant to walk you down the aisle to the one creature powerful enough to destroy everything in his path so you understood his concerns as he held your arm in a deadly grip, feeling his discomfort for allowing his only daughter to marry a dangerous being.

As you saw your mother standing at the first row of pews, your heart clenched painfully when you saw her expression.

A mixture of sadness or even disappointment and fear crossed her face before she turned away with an expression that told you that there was no way you would ever see her again if you keep going with this marriage.

Your father's fingers dug into your arm even harder when he felt it as well but nothing else mattered when your eyes locked with your soon to be husband.

His gaze held a promise of full life of pleasure and happiness. His love for you was like an endless and eternal obsession which would never fade.

The ceremony went on smoothly, the priest saying words about the power of heavens above to bless your union and wish your happiness until death. The vows were exchanged, rings were placed on your fingers and it was time for the groom to kiss his bride.

Jungkook didn’t even wasted a second to lean in and press his lips against yours. His tongue danced against yours in a way that sent shivers through your body. It was slow yet passionate as if he had all the time in the world to make each moment count.

Pulling away, the throne room was silent after the kiss you shared and your king’s eyes were only focused on you.

“Now you’re really mine ��” he murmured, pressing another kiss but this time on your forehead, “...for eternity.”

The only thing which bothered you was how your parents looked at you now, like they’d seen a monster rather than their daughter who has fallen head over heels in love with this man who could do such things with her mind.

They were disappointed because they thought that the king is just using you but you knew better. He loved you like you were the moon, brighter and brighter each day until finally, you shine more beautifully and brightly than anyone can ever hope to achieve. You knew that he loves you like you are someone special and someone he doesn’t want anyone to take from him but still, you couldn't shake off how your parents looked as you walked out of the throne room to start your new life together.

The same night after your wedding, you were sitting in the beautiful garden under the moonlight. Your dress sparkled in the moonlight while the grass was illuminated by its glow. The garden wasn’t particularly big but it was beautiful nonetheless. It overlooked the lake and the mountains surrounding it with the forest beyond.

In a soft cushioned swing you were sitting in your husband’s lap, his strong arms around your waist and his wings wrapped around the two of you protectively.

Nuzzling your neck, his deep voice rumbled softly in your ear,” How are you feeling, my love? Are you still sad?”

“A little, but not for much longer. I have you to make me feel better and you’ll always remind me of everything we’ve been through.” You replied softly, resting your cheek against the soft fabric of his cloak.

“It will be hard at first knowing my parents are against our relationship but I hope they will forgive me and accept you as my husband. I hope you’re not upset about them,” looking up at him beneath your lashes, you caress his cheek, his eyes glowing in the dark when he met your gaze.

“It’s cute that you think I’m upset over what they think of me. What matters now that your officially mine and even your parents will never stop me for having you,” before you can worry about his possessive tendencies, his lips brushed yours softly before continuing, “I can’t wait to make love to you every single night, darling.”

You flushed and leaned back against his chest with an embarrassed chuckle. “You just can’t say that, Jungkook. It’s not very gentlemanly for the king to speak in such a manner,” giggling shyly as he pressed light kisses along your collarbone.

Feeling his smirk, his hold tightens around you while his wing cocooned you both protectively and he murmurs,“It sound like you’re challenging your king to try something inappropriate to you.”

Before you could reply, he rips your dress open and you feel his warm fingers on your bare back. You hear a low amused chuckle behind you,” No bra?

Embarrassed and breathless from his bold moves and remarks, your skin feels hotter when Jungkook pulls the dress down over your shoulders till you’re bared to the cool air. Now you were naked from your neck to your hips, the poor wedding dress pooled around your waist while his large hands explore your back.

“Jungkook, someone might see us…” you whisper in a warning but still let him trace his touch along your waist until it reaches your breasts.

Taking them in his hands, he thumbs the small pink buds gently, smiling as you groan at the sensation, his thumb brushing across the nipple teasingly.

Reaching your waist again, he rips the dress completely off of you when it falls from your legs to the grass beneath you and the swing you were both sitting.

Gasping from the sudden cold, his wings shield you from the wind, the feathers tickling you gently when he spreads your legs to touch your clit with his fingers.

“Oh God,” you moan in delight, the wet friction creating goosebumps all over your skin. His fingers were gentle and slow at first until he starts stroking faster, adding heat to your already burning flesh.

”Ah...” you cry out when his teeth sink into your shoulder, biting down to leave a mark.

Your hips buck into his hand without your consent and you' sure that he could taste your arousal when his tongue licks your tender flesh.”Jungkook -ah….”

He pauses in between kissing you and nibbling lightly on your neck. You feel like you’re floating with him and you know it was probably the adrenaline that coursed through your system.

“Do you want to please me, mate?”

“Mate?” you question with wide eyes when you glance towards him.

Smiling with a glint in his eyes and his lips still covered with your scent, he replies, “My mate, of course. Don’t you know?”

Staring deeply into his black orbs, you nod slowly,” Like a soulmate,” you breathe out shakily with a blush forming on your cheeks.

Jungkook laughs, his lips curving into a sexy smile when he realizes your excitement.

Before he continues with what he was doing before, he kisses along your shoulder and neck, giving your mark his full attention when you feel it glow in the dark.

“Why does it light up like that when you touch it?” you ask quietly.

His fingers pause when you mentioned your mark for a moment as he looks at you with a strange expression but his tone remained gentle,” The magic that connects the two of us forms a sort of bond that only mates can share when touching a mark or marking each other like this. This mark proves that you’re mine and everyone who will see it, will know it too.”

Your heart beats rapidly when his long finger traces your inner thigh. It takes all of your willpower to stay as still as possible instead of moving closer to him to feel his heated touch.

"If you get hurt," he whispers huskily while nipping on one of your shoulders and then the other. "This mark will show it.”

Your breath hitches when he starts sucking your shoulder with his hot mouth.

"Jungkook…." you whimper as your back arches.

"Shh, my love... don't move. Stay still."

His hands roam your sides, fingers playing with your breasts until you're panting with desire.

“Do you want my cock, Y/n? Do you want to feel it inside you?" His words sent chills down your spine and made your body tingle with need, the butterflies fluttering around you making you giggle nervously.

Breathing out heavily, you tilt your head to the side, your gaze fixed on the stars above,”I want to do anything and everything, my king.”

Feeling him unzipping his trousers, you gasp sharply when you feel his thick length pressing against your ass.

You can’t even scream when he inserts himself in you with one rough thrust, sinking inside you so deep that you see another kind of stars above you.

That night all you did was chant your husband’s name on repeat.

Two Weeks Later

It was raining in the morning when you woke up in the big bed next to your husband.

He was still asleep, his handsome features relaxed without any trace of stress but you knew that it would change if he knows the truth about you.

It was five days before when you got the news and now keeping it from him like a secret made your stomach twist uneasily, your mind wondering how he’s going to react.

With a sigh, you slowly sat up and rubbed your tired eyes with the palms of your hands. Looking down at your naked body, you smiled sadly when you felt your body ache and wanted nothing more than to take a nice bath right now.

Bringing your hand to your stomach, you rubbed your belly gently and smiled softly but sudden feeling of sickness caused you to jump from the bed to run to the bathroom.

Throwing yourself at the toilet seat, you dropped on your knees and dry heaved for what seemed like hours with your stomach hurting like hell. Your eyes sting with tears as you tried to keep yourself together and when you’re finally done throwing up and you’re left alone in the bathroom, you collapsed onto the floor next to the toilet.

Letting your head fall back against the wall with a sob, you heard footsteps approaching and quickly wiped away the last few streaks of tears on your cheeks, forcing yourself to stand up and meet Jungkook's concerned gaze with red rimmed eyes. You couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eye.

“Baby? Are you okay?” He crouched in front of you, frown deepening as he noticed the tear tracks streaking down your face.

Sniffing as your nose ran and he held out a damp rag which you gratefully accepted, you wiped your face carefully with the cloth. When you were certain that you were presentable enough for him, you glanced back at him through hooded eyes and offered a weak smile.

“I’m okay. Just feeling sick,” you lie with a shaky voice, looking down ashamedly when he raised an eyebrow at you.

“You’re the worst liar in history, sweetheart,” his eyes darken when he steps closer to you.

Pulling you into his chest, his wings springs out of his back, protecting you while tucking you into his embrace.

“I feel my seed inside of you. You can’t avoid me forever. You know that I can feel our bond and everything what is going on with you,” he whispered huskily, nuzzling the crown of your head affectionately.

You feel like your heart stopped at that moment,” And what is going on?”

“You’re pregnant, darling. You can’t keep that as a secret from me anymore. I would know because we are bonded after all.”

You bite your lip to stop the crying,” You’re not mad?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad? You are carrying our child!” he exclaims happily, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

You can hardly contain your joy now that Jungkook knew the truth,” Do you really want this?”

Chuckling in disbelief, he kissed your mouth without any care that you just vomited all your previous night’s dinner so with a sharp intake of breath, you feel his hand wrap around your delicate throat.

“Do I want this? You silly girl, of course, I want you and our child. I didn’t breed you just to reject you,” smirking at his words, your mouth falls open.

What he said sounded so wrong coming out of his mouth.

Did he mean…

No way.

“And knowing that you smell even better with my baby’s scent inside of you, it makes me want you more,” growling low in his throat as his free hand slips behind your head to grip both of yours tightly,”So tell me, sweetheart; why would I not want our baby?”

Tears started rolling down your face when he lifted one of your hands up to place a kiss on your knuckles while staring deeply into your eyes.

“You really mean it,” you whisper with wonderment filling your body as he nods and kisses your knuckles again.

“I really mean it. Now come here,” he murmurs with a soft grin before pulling you on top of him and burying his face into your hair.

“I should take a bath…I stink,” you grumble against his bare skin.

“Not to me.”

God, this man will be the death of you.

Be continued…

p.s. All images and gifs are not mine, some of the edits are mine edited but not every picture. All the credit goes to their rightful owners

DO NOT REPOST THIS WORK AS YOUR OWN BECAUSE THIS IS THE ORIGINAL OWNER’S STORY

If you like, please reblog or like the post so I can post the next chapters :)

Taglist: @lepau123 @the-princess-of-mischief-1998@11thenightwemet11 @khadeeeeej @almosttoopizza @jiminismine4ever (If you want to be tagged, please message me)

🅒 All rights reserved

[hellish-sunsets]

Curses and Blessings - Chapter 9

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8

Summary:

With shaking fingers, he dug his hand under his sleeve past his elbow to find the edge of his glove. With another deep breath, he worked on pulling it down, revealing the skin of his arm, paper white like the rest of him, stained with those swirls of gold, orange and pink.

Warnings: kinda angst, kinda fluff, lots of talking

Read on AO3

Word Count: 1,375

Taglist:

@cherry-4200 @adaizel @kyo-kyo1 @elleofdragons @snoozewritezz @avadakadabra93

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

He had to tell her, but he wasn’t sure how or when, especially with the extermination steadily getting closer. It felt like he blinked and there were only a few days left. He had to gather his courage and just fucking talk to her before it was too late, before he blinked again and time was gone. 

But fuck, was he a mess. His hands went clammy any time he even looked at her. He couldn't even begin to muster up the courage to talk to her, not about this.

He should've known she would notice his odd behavior. It wasn’t like he was being subtle, and she had already proven to be better than most at reading people. And despite how nervous he was, she had no problem taking him aside while everyone else was preparing for the fight the day before. Because of course it was already the day before. He had dared to blink, and there time went, and it was a good thing she did it because he wasn't sure he would have managed soon enough.

She had asked him to come with her, smile so warm he couldn't say no if he wanted to. He swallowed hard and nodded, letting her grasp his hand in hers and drag him away from the group. He didn’t miss the looks they shared, and he really hoped that wouldn't be a problem later. He supposed it didn't really matter, especially once he told her about his mark. How would that work? Would she want to jump right into a relationship? He wasn’t sure he could handle that yet. No, that was unlikely, based on what she had said previously. But he knew something would change, that was guaranteed. Maybe she would pretend everything was normal, that he hadn't revealed anything. Or she could turn him down entirely.

He swallowed hard again. No, he couldn’t think like that. Just do it. Just tell her. He promised.

She had ended up dragging him to some lounge room and closing the door behind them. She turned to him with a stern look that almost made him flinch, her arms crossed. She didn’t even need to say anything. He took a deep breath, motioning for her to sit on the couch. Once she was settled, looking slightly less stern now that it was clear he was going to explain himself, he sat by her side, turned towards her. 

Now… how was he supposed to explain this? What was he supposed to say? He didn't remember where he had hid the rubber duck on his body this time, but it was in his hands in an instant as he fidgeted and thought. And bless her, she was so patient with him, waiting for him to gather his thoughts without pressuring him. It caused him to smile, even if only for a moment, even if only a small one. She wasn't even doing anything and yet she had his heart beating so fast and his face warming up.

“So…” he finally managed to get out before relapsing into silence once more. She reached over to grasp his hand in hers, helping his shoulders ease slightly. He looked into her eyes, so clear and warm, he got lost for a second. 

With a sigh he pulled his hand away from hers, picking at the fabric of the glove on his marked arm. Maybe he could just… 

With shaking fingers, he dug his hand under his sleeve past his elbow to find the edge of his glove. With another deep breath, he worked on pulling it down, revealing the skin of his arm, paper white like the rest of him, stained with those swirls of gold, orange and pink. He didn’t dare look her way, afraid of what her reaction would be. It felt like his heart was ready to leap out of his throat, his skin itching where she stared at the mark. 

He unconsciously brought his hand up to grasp his arm where the mark was, but he froze when he felt her warm touch, ever so gently leading his hand away. He dared to glance at her, his breath catching in his throat when he saw her not staring at the mark, but at his face. He wasn't sure how to describe the look that hid in her eyes, but he did know that his face had to be glowing with how hot it was. It only got hotter when she reached up to cradle his face in her hands. He let out a shaky sigh, leaning into her touch, and her smile was so soft.

“... I understand. Thank you.” Her voice was only just louder than a whisper, each word a breath of fresh air. “When you're ready, you let me know, okay?”

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers. Why couldn’t he stop staring?

“I… really?”

She nodded, thought a moment, and shrugged.

“We agreed, didn’t we? That we'd at least try when we found our match.” She said in that soft voice, reaching out for his arm. Her fingers traced over the swirls, her brow furrowed, unaware of the shiver it sent down his spine. “I just… I didn't think… I didn't know that we…” She sighed, letting his arm go, hands settling in her lap. She stared off into the distance, head tilting as she thought her words over carefully. 

“I know.” He said, tearing his eyes away from her to stare into the distance as well. That seemed like the right thing to do. “It’s… I expect it’ll be hard. For both of us.”

She nodded, took a deep breath and nodded again. 

“We’ll work through it though, right? Slowly but surely.”

He couldn’t stop the soft smile that tug at his lips as he nodded.

“Yeah, we’ll work on it.”

There was a long beat of silence between them, a comfortable silence that settled over them like a blanket. After that moment, she leaned over to rest her forehead on his shoulder, hands firmly planted in her lap. Then she whispered something, so quiet he almost didn’t catch it. 

“... I’m glad it was you.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He gulped down the lump in his throat, fighting back tears as he nodded. Hesitantly, he brought his hand up, pausing just before he touched her hair. With another gulp, he managed to gather the courage to rest his hand on her head, running his fingers through her hair. 

It was just as soft as it looked. 

She sighed at his touch, relaxing into him a bit more, and for a moment everything was just as it should be. 

Shit, how he missed that feeling. 

There was a loud knocking at the door and they both jumped. 

“I am once more being sent as a messenger to inform you that dinner will be ready soon!” He recognized the voice of that snake fellow, he still hadn’t remembered his name. 

“Yeah, on our way, thanks Pentsious!”

Oh, that’s what it was. He’d have to try and remember it this time. She took a deep breath and smiled at him and reflexively he smiled back. His heart nearly stopped when she reached up and put her warm hand on his face, wiping away the few tears that had managed to slip out. It felt far too cold when she pulled away. 

“Here,” she said with his glove in her hand, offering it to him. “Not sure if we’re ready to explain the whole matching mark thing to everyone else yet.”

He nodded, wiping at his face before taking the glove from her. She was right, of course. He was nowhere near ready to explain himself to them, and he wouldn’t put that on her either. 

“Charlie knows, but I wouldn’t want to explain to everyone else yet.”

He was surprised when she looked surprised, but she quickly schooled herself, slapping her cheeks softly.

“Sorry, It’s just… That girl actually managed to keep that a secret?!”

He snorted and burst out laughing, not necessarily because it was funny, but because he needed a laugh after such a heavy conversation. It broke that air of solemness that had settled over them. 

“Apparently!”