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yeeterthek33per · 4 months

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Meet you maybe never (Pernille Harder x Magdalena Eriksson x Reader)

A/n Sort of requested. This one's been in the to be done pile for a while, and I wasn't entirely sure about it, but I knew I wanted to write it. Hardersson need more love, and I will go to the grave saying this.

Content/Warning(s): Fluff, mild angst (really have to squint bc honestly), Artist R.

Part one in a new series of mine. Let me know how I went, guys.

Pernille's sigh of exhaustion holds a familiar weight in Magdalena's mind.

One that she shares greatly, considering she also shares the exact reason for it.

Moving is a pain in the ass.

However many boxes they'd carried up the stairs to their new shared Munich apartment remains to be seen, given that she didn't remember packing this many boxes.

The place has certainly been well maintained, and everything feels brand new too, so they were both very happy with the turnout.

In saying that, unpacking is going to be a nightmare.

Sure, it was a spacious place, and they have several other rooms to work with, but now with boxes in place, their concerns lie with furniture, only being left with a bare mattress and two camp chairs until they could get around to going furniture shopping.

Looking over from her position leant back against the wall, having set down the final box in the living room, she spots her girlfriend lying flat on her back on the cool floorboards, arm draped over her face dramatically.

An amused smile crosses her lips, and she chuckles, moving to sit cross-legged next to the blonde on the floor, hand patting her stomach.

"All good, Love?"

Pernille hums softly, although given the grimace on her face, it's more like a groan than anything.

"Perfect. Just perfect."

Magda holds back a laugh, letting her hand fall to rest on her girlfriend's arm, caressing the skin above where it had fallen to rest over her eyes.

"We'll get there, Love. It's not like you haven't done it before."

"And every single time, I'm reminded how painfully exhausting it is."

The defender simply chuckles, nodding her head as her hand migrates to the woman's hair, gently carding her fingers through the light blonde tresses.

Humming softly, she shifts to lay her head in the younger woman's lap, looking up at her with a small affectionate smile that's returned with a loving look in the swede's eyes.

"Hi."

She playfully taps the defender on the nose.

"Hi."

There's a soft giggle from the light blonde.

"Love you."

Magda's small smile turns into a bigger one as she moves her hand to cradle her face.

"Love you, too."

Maybe moving to Munich isn't all that bad.

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

"Magda, come look at this."

"One second love, this dining set would go pretty well with-"

She looks around her when she notices isn't beside her.

"Babe?"

She calls out.

"Come look."

She wanders over to where Pernille is pointing, a wall across the street visible through the furniture store's windows.

It's painted in varying stages of forest greens, baby blues, and over the top is a beautiful landscape of what they assume to be the German countryside.

A little cottage on a hill, in front of a rising morning sun, brilliant oranges, and reds contrasting the background greens and blues.

"That's gorgeous, we should go have a look later."

"Let's go look now."

"But we have to-"

Pernille's already out the door before Magda can stop her, leaving the swede to sigh softly and walk back out the door after her excited girlfriend.

The painting up close is intricate with little design details that you wouldn't find unless you looked up super close.

Little details, like the bricks on the little cottage, aren't actually solid bricks but aligned words like quiet, peace and home.

The sun is made up of faintly written words of bright, future, and Pernille tells Magda, the German word for Happiness.

It's feels so planned out and thought out, they spend a long time looking over each detail, feeling every line and ridge of paint on the wall.

A local actually stops to tell them about it when they ask.

It'd been there for a couple years, having no idea who'd painted it. It just appeared one day.

They decide they love the piece, snapping a photo of it to show to family and friends for later.

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

"Shit."

You barely feel the wall against your back in the cold.

Winter in Germany is not a fun time to be outside, and yet your stupid bored brain decided it needed to scratch an itch right now.

Waiting to be pick the perfect blank canvas, you had to duck behind a bricked off area while wearing your mask.

It covers most of your face bar a small gap for your eyes.

You hadn't exactly been subtle before and you'd already been photographed wearing it.

The last thing you needed right now was the press up your ass, or worse, the police.

Unfortunately, no matter where you are in the world, paparazzi are terrifyingly aggressive.

Quickly slipping away over another wall, you hop over a bin and find a blank, almost white wall, perfect height and size.

Assessing it for a second and checking for anu nearby vantage points that people could see you in and finding none in the low rise area.

You quickly drop your backpack, rifling through the old thing for your spray caps, and move to get to work.

It had come to you earlier and had been what had initially started the itch, said itch having been in the middle of a work meeting that you could not wait to get out of.

There would always be satisfaction in the way the lines matched up and swirled around others.

This time, though, it wasn't just a colourful background to look at.

You wanted to leave something on top of it, and you knew this one would take time.

Thankfully, you knew this area of buildings was mostly abandoned due to high levels of restructuring, so getting caught by locals wasn't an issue.

It was the occasional roaming tourist that gave you worry.

Pulling out a piece of charcoal, you use it to sketch out the baselines, not wanting to get ahead of yourself again, like you had last time when you spent far too long changing little mistakes made by using black paint first, leading to your biggest issue in the first place.

A public image to the mysterious artist of Munich.

Not something you need right now.

Sighing, you roll your head side to side, eyeing up the now line drawing in front of you

It looks pretty good.

It seems frustration helps you work better.

Unlike quite a few of the lackeys you know at work.

You roll your eyes at that.

Popping your achingly cold knuckles, you admire the lines for a moment longer.

This is one you want people to see, like many of your others, only more important.

It was a big thing for you, and you knew it would finally do something for the right people.

Now, just to fill it in and get the hell out of there.

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

Magdalena and Pernille get a welcoming party with the team.

The captain, Glódís, introduces herself to the pair.

They immediately find the woman incredibly welcoming from the get-go, a warm smile to pair with the kind words and introductions to the staff at the party.

"And finally, you've met him already, but, our beloved man in charge, Alex Straus."

Alex shakes both of their hands.

"Lovely seeing you ladies again, even if it's only been a couple of hours."

He pauses to chuckle softly and then gestures around him.

"I can only hope you're settling in well. The girls are eager to get started on the season with you both."

The nod from the Icelander confirms that with a small chuckle, herself, the lot of them pestering her about the team's newest signings, having to remain tight-lipped until they could meet them in person tonight.

She gestures over to the not-so-subtly excitedly waiting group of women in the room.

"Better go introduce yourselves. Otherwise, I fear they might have my head for hogging you both."

The couple giggle softly at that.

Pernille's the first to settle with the girls.

Having spent four years with Wolfsburg made it so she had to learn German if she wanted to keep up with the banter, so she's into the mix of things quite quickly.

Particularly with the international players who all find immediate common ground with someone who they've played against many times over the years, especially after the most recent World Cup.

Georgia tucks the Dane under her arm, officially claiming her already, and latches onto Magda not soon after, both of them attaching to the Englishwoman right away.

"Finally, after who knows how long of losing to these two at City, I get my transfer here and the find the next season, the ol' captain and striker who gave me so much strife playing against Chelsea, followed me here."

There's so good-natured ribbing, and Georgia pokes Magda in the ribs in particular.

"What, can't take a little Chelsea blue, Gee?"

Magda pushes back of course, competitive as she is.

"Pft, you and I both know Manchester Blue is the best blue."

The swede scoffs.

"You wish, Stanway."

"Nah, it's just facts, Eriksson."

The rest of the group giggles, knowing this fast friendship was going to be an entertaining one.

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

It seems it doesn't take long.

News of the artwork in Munich spreads like wildfire, catching the attention of your bosses almost immediately.

There was no way they would allow the media team to share this, considering the illegal nature of the piece, but they weren't displeased with it's sudden appearance, nor the traction it's gaining either.

It's a big thing for them.

It means more attention on the club, and it means more support from people because of how much they love the artwork.

That was an ego boost and a half.

Now, as you stare at the image on the projector board, you start doing what you always do and pick apart the piece.

Somethings not quite right with it, you think.

"Ms L/n, what do you think of this new development?"

Trying to appear as though you were paying attention, you look around at the other board members around you.

"I think it's the perfect opportunity for our latest news to gain attention. It certainly won't hurt that those players will gain attention, too."

Pausing to think for a moment before adding.

"Of course, there is always the risk of bad attention, especially from the press, but we can deal with that like we always do."

Another pause for a moment.

You glance over to the projector with the photo of the mural, rubbing your jawline softly, noting that something just felt off about the piece all of a sudden.

The eyes aren't right, there's not enough curve to the jaw.

You can't figure it out yet.

The itch returns for a moment before you continue, avoiding starting up too much on the itch.

"And with the good press, the club will gain more support from fans who will follow the players here, too. We should try and boost the promotion while we're at it. I'm aware the media team is doing the usual, but let's get in on the waves these two seem to be making while we're at it. Does anyone have any ideas?"

A woman further down the table pipes up.

"We can set up for some get to the know the players videos, have some meet and greets, send some of the veteran players with them over to a couple different plazas?"

A soft nod from you in agreement.

"Sounds good. We can let the media team handle the rest. Please. Stephen. Continue."

He nods before flipping to the next item on the agenda.

"Thank you, Director."

Nodding at the man, you turn back to your papers, scribbling small notations every so often, once again.

It seems the board aren't against it.

Good.

For now, you'd just have to encourage the publicity of the piece.

Not yourself.

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

With training beginning within a couple of days of moving to Germany, it doesn't take long for whispers of the piece to make it to the gossip in the changing room.

Magda and Pernille don't realise what it's about until they ask what all the fuss is.

Some of the younger girls had been fawning over a photo taken from a distance, the piece lit up perfectly under the early setting winter sun.

Catching the sight of it over the shoulder of one of them, they ask about the name attached to it.

Scrawled in the caption, something catches Pernille's eye, having some knowledge of written German.

'Straßengänger'

Streetwalker.

"Who's that?"

She directs the question towards the younger Dutch girl on the team, Jill Baijings.

"Eh, a popular street artist, though they aren't really known aside from the name. Their stuff is really good, though."

She holds the phone closer to the women.

"Have you seen this yet?"

Pernille looks closer at the image, brows raising in surprise, with a soft muttered 'oh'.

The red, blue and baby blue, apparently FC Bayern themed background, made the highly realistic greyscale portraits pop nicely.

It was a promotional image for them.

As in Magdalena and Pernille.

Words scribbled under the image read,

"Welcome to Munich, Magda and Pernille!"

The image itself is beautiful.

It's an image of their faces in what is most likely both stages of goal celebration, screaming with victory, eyes crinkled and wide smiles, paired together over the gorgeous pattern, highlighting it perfectly.

It almost doesn't look real in the photo. But it's still very awe-inspiring to see.

Fans always have the most talent when it came to art like that, and it never ceases to amaze them.

Magda peers over her shoulder beside her, letting her appreciation for the art be known with a low whistle.

"Honestly, you guys will have to see it in person, though. it's so much better when you can get up close to it. All of their artworks always are."

"What did you say the name was, again?"

"Straßengänger."

"What does that mean?"

It comes from Magda.

"Streetwalker. We don't actually know where the name came from, whether it was the artist themself or the locals but either way."

They both nod, humming thoughtfully.

Maybe they would have to check it out.

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

You know coming back is a bad idea, but you love the piece too much to not come back to it, knowing it would irk you to not get a better stance on anything that might need fixing, despite your best efforts to ignore the itch.

Of course, this time, without the mask on because that be even stupider.

Going back to the scene of the crime wearing exactly the attire that would incriminate you.

Standing back from a distance, you snap a photo under the settling sun in the cooling weather.

Something catches your attention off to the left, a pair walking down the sidewalk, well, more strolling slowly then anything.

Linked arm in arm and bundled far less than a lot of people would be for winter weather, they're wearing coats but braving the cold with thin material pants and shoes.

It's not that that catches your attention, though.

It's more your unabashedly gay side that notices them.

It seems you've caught the attention of your art's subjects.

Because here they are, noticing it finally, standing back admiring your work of them.

You quietly step away, but still close enough to hear the soft murmuring of them, being the only people on the street at this dying hour, you can hear them amongst the small breeze passing over the road.

They're definitely speaking Swedish because you can't make out what they're saying, only understanding the familiar lilt and tone of surprise in their words.

"Det är vackert."

"Varför oss?"

"Jag vet inte men det är fantastiskt."

You're about to walk away when Pernille walks closer to it, running her hand over the dried paint, her eyes moving over the piece slowly.

You notice she's tracing the underlying wording, realising she must have seen your art before to notice it that quickly.

As you keep a subtle eye on her, she's standing in the fading rays of sunlight, giving her a soft golden glow.

Her girlfriend moves to wrap her arms around her and it's then you see both of them a little differently to before you'd seen them in person.

They're absolutely beautiful, together and individually, and you realise you haven't captured that properly with your latest work.

It gives you another itch.

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

"You know, we have to meet this person."

Magdalena hums softly in agreement, hands running over Pernille's shoulders, staring up at the wall, eyes tracing the lines, the shading and the shape work, particular over the little footballs making up the swirls on the O in Welcome.

Her hand moves to her pupils in the portrait, paying attention to the way they're made up of shining stars.

The same with Magda's portrait.

There's a soft shuffle from behind them, and Magda's head swivels to look up at the source for a moment.

You're standing there, looking down at your phone, a soft smile on your face as you tap away at it.

She'd seen you standing there earlier already, taking photos, so she doesn't pay you much mind in the end, and you turn and walk away, putting the phone to your ear.

Although, there is mild niggle of curiosity, she brushes it off.

You're probably just another tourist looking at the piece.

"Come on, we have to head back soon or we'll start freezing out here."

"Few more minutes, Magda... Where's all those Swedish genes gone huh?"

Pernille teases the taller woman, poking her in the cheek.

Magda rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

"Yeah, yeah, real funny, babe."

Pernille chuckles, leaning back into the Swede.

She was right, though.

She had to find whoever did this.

The curiosity was getting to Magda, too.

Why them?

Of any of the influential people in Munich.

Or just any of the women's players.

Why them?

She has so many questions.

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

"And last but certainly not least, welcome to our newest signings, Magdalena and Pernille. Thank you for joining us and we hope you enjoy your stay here at FC Bayern."

The FC Bayern committee room erupts with a small applause from the players and board members before them who were all called in for a club wide meeting, even receiving a small whoop from Georgia in the back that makes the players around her either chuckle or roll their eyes at her.

"Now, handing off to our creative director."

"Danke, Herbert."

Stepping up onto the podium, the person immediately catches Magda's attention.

It's you.

The woman from the other day in town, at the wall.

There you are, climbing the steps up to the podium, black blazer jacket and blue jeans, half tucked with a white button up and a FC Bayern logo embroidered on the jacket pocket.

Pernille notices it, too.

"Now, I know this probably going to be the boring part but I'll try and keep it simple and just go over what our plan is for the next few months."

Looking out over the group, you keep your best public smile on.

"Don't worry, you don't have to remember any of this, as you'll be reminded as each one comes up so we don't miss anybody."

As you start to list off each of the latest marketing events and programs, your eyes shift over the players in their seats, despite the usually tired response at your while lilted, droning about the business side of things, you make eye contact with a very vigilant looking certain pair.

Your eyes crinkle mildly as you fight off too much of wide smile.

"There's a few meet and greets we want to go ahead with before the start of the season, including our newest signings, men and women, we'll send the details to those involved later."

You pause for a moment, eyeing up the latest of the new men and women in the crowd, placing back on the Scandi couple for a second before drifting and continuing.

"And, finally, we have an unfortunately mandatory promotional event on the third of October. It is also a black-tie event, so even me, who as many of you know already, shows up to everything wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, will have to dress up, please do the same. Thank you for listening everyone."

"Thank you, Director."

Taking a seat back with the crowd, it's almost like you can feel a pair of eyes on the back of your head.

You don't turn to face them, though, already knowing exactly who it is.

After the meeting is adjourned, you stand and ready to leave back to your office when a body stands in front of you.

A familiar tall Swede.

"Hey, I don't believe we've met properly."

"I'm Y/n L/n, creative director here at FC Bayern München."

"Magdalena Eriksson, although you already know that, it seems."

You smile, nodding and extending a hand out to her.

She shakes with a warm but firm grip, leaving the skin tingling a little.

She really is much more beautiful in person.

"It's lovely meeting you, Magdalena-"

"Call me Magda, feels a bit much for a full name, now."

"Lovely meeting you, Magda."

Letting go of her hand, you bid her as polite a goodbye as you can give, knowing any longer and you'd gay panic yourself into a problem, you make your way towards the door.

As you shift through the small crowd of players, nodding and smiling in acknowledgement to those who do know you or have met you, you exit the room swiftly, heart mildly racing.

You'd seen the look of recognition in her eyes, not from knowing who you are at Bayern, but perhaps somewhere else.

You aren't risking it.

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

First and second training with the team went as smoothly as it could for any new team members.

However, their third is a little less cathartic.

Having to do extra medical assessments and fitness testing before being able to join the team, everything had been hurting that day.

They arrive home to their shared apartment almost completely worn down from the session.

At home, in their new apartment, finally furnished, for the most part, they both agree to get an early night's rest.

Annoyingly though, they can't seem to find it in them to sit still and toss and turn for the next hour or so, both of them in agreement they weren't sleeping right now.

They head out for another stroll through the quieter parts of the city, instead, taking a bus out there for the first ten minutes or so.

Hand in hand, they stroll down the quiet village-esque side of Munich, just breathing in the cool air, occasionally stopping to admire the rustic, olden style.

It's in the really silent part of town that they notice something.

The distinct sound of... a rattling can?

A spray can to be exact.

Pernille nods in the direction of a small alley, Magda initially shaking her head no, not sure if they should really confront someone who could be possibly dangerous or someone associated with the law.

Of course, the Dane sneaks over anyway to peek into the alley.

There, a figure stands with their back to them, hand wrapped around a baby blue can of spray paint.

The painting looks halfway done.

It's a portrait.

Of Pernille.

The woman's eyebrows just about fall off her face at the surprise and she turns back to her girlfriend who's waiting anxiously, looking about three seconds from dragging Pernille to the next taxi back to their apartment.

She gestures quietly to whisper to her over the cold wind howling through the gaps in the buildings.

"It's that artist."

"I figured, but we really shouldn't be associating with them. C'mon, we have to leave."

"Magda, c'mon, this is our chance to meet the person behind that mural."

A bit of back and forth before Pernille peeks her head around the corner to look, again.

This time, though, the person is bent down, rifling through their backpack, and a spray cap.

When Pernille turns back to a now very concerned Magda, she whispers in her ear.

"Just another minute. Just have a look at least."

The Swede very reluctantly agrees, looking for herself.

Concern is the first thing to pop into her mind.

This one is just of Pernille, accentuating the woman's eye colour and bright smile.

Is the artist, infatuated?

A million thoughts an hour as she watches the smooth, almost mesmerising way their hands trace lines and fill gaps.

When you pull out a paint marker to start with smaller details, she turns back to her girlfriend.

"Are they obsessed with us or something? This feels a little weird at this point."

Pernille frowns, almost shaking her head to disagree.

As the woman's about to answer, there's suddenly some shuffling, almost unnoticeable jingling of zippers and a body sat up on a short wall on the other side of the walkway, bag back on their shoulders once more.

"Actually, I'd say it's more an appreciation for a pair of legends in Munich."

They both startle heavily, Magda going into protective mode, arm around Pernille, pulling herself in front of the woman fully.

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

The pair of them peeking on you were about as subtle as a whistle among bells.

Figuring you'd have to finish it later, you pack up swiftly, ensuring your mask sits on your face correctly before sneaking out of the alleyway to sit up on a wall above them.

After a not-so-much needed scare, you raise your hands in a surrender gesture.

"I won't hurt you. I just figured I should say hello personally since you're both here and all."

Magda looks nervous, and you can see the curiosity in Pernille's eyes from where you're casually seated.

"Although, I do suggest not sticking around. It's going to be a PR nightmare for the three of us if you're seen with the Straßengänger."

You punctuate the nickname with air quotes.

As you're about to jump up to climb onto the rook and make a swift disappearance of yourself, you hear one of them yell out to you.

Hesitating, you turn back to the pair.

"Why us?"

Pernille's brilliant grey-blue eyes look up at you, a radiance of dying curiosity in them as she holds her girlfriend's hand to calm the woman.

You stop for a moment before shrugging.

"A pair of beautiful women in the biggest sport and uprising for women. Why not you?"

It's there Magda gets a unrecognisable look on her face and you decide to leave it there.

With that, you scramble up onto the building, annoyed with yourself for having dragged ALL of your gear with you and also for leaving a half finished work behind.

A day or so later.

Luckily for you, no one else seems to stumble upon your work just yet, and with much scouting and caution, you find yourself back in that alley finishing what you started.

Making sure to adjust the shine in the subject's eyes to fit exactly how they shone up at you the day previously.

This time, the representation of the Danish captain seemed far closer to the spectacle she is in real life.

You're pleased with yourself for this one.

And it's scratched half the itch you'd had days prior.

Now for the other half.

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

After their sudden meeting with the Straßengänger, Magda and Pernille are left with more questions than answers.

They both agree to just return home for the night, knowing it's a question for another day when they aren't in the middle of an already chaotic media storm.

After that, they get swept up in everything Bayern and put everything about the artist to the back of their minds.

Their first match is approaching fast and Alex already has Pernille in the starting lineup, so she gets distracted in preparation for that, finding herself busy studying the formation and technique of an entirely new team.

So much so, that she almost... almost forgets about the mural maker.

Although...

There's just one question that bugs Pernille constantly, despite her best efforts to focus fully on their new path in Germany.

Magdalena feels much the same.

"Who are you, really, Straßengänger?"

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

360 notes · View notes

4ln-stay8 · 10 months

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Secrets and shadows

>summary: Lando denies your relationship in order to keep it private but that took a toll on you

>author’s notes: i hope this isn’t too bad… im trying tbh… this is probably bad but anyway… enjoy

>warnings: lying, insecurity, anxiety, crying, teasing, denying, doubt

The evening sun painted Lando's gaming setup with a warm glow as he fired up his Twitch stream. Lando adjusted his headset with a grin, ready to dive into another streaming session with Max and Bankai on his Discord server.

"Alright chat, we're live! What's up, everyone? It's been a while." said Lando starting his stream "Today, Max and Bankai will join us for some gaming, is that okay chat?" He continued

The fans in the chat exploded with excitement as Lando hadn't streamed in a while.

"Chat say hi to the boys!" said Lando with excitement as his friends entered his discord server

"Hey guys, hey chat! Ready for some gaming, Lando?" said Max excited to join his friends.

"Im ready to beat you Max, thats for sure!" said Lando confident in his ability

Lando was reading the chat trying to keep up with his fans when he noticed that something was off. The chat was full of questions about someone passing by in the background.

"Calm down chat, jeez! She's just a friend crashing at my place for a while. Now let's get back to the game so we can beat Max." Lando said chuckling trying to calm them down.

"I'm counting on it. And who knows, maybe your 'friend' in the background will bring you some luck." said Bankai while Lando was reading the chat.

"Not you too man. I've just calmed chat down, don't make them start again. She is just a friend" said Lando trying to hold chat into place

"Yeah, right guys. 'Just a friend." said Max chuckling

"Seriously guys stop it. She is just a friend, nothing more. She is not even my type anyway, plus she is also a friend of Flo so she can confirm my point." said Lando frustrated with the teasing

In the other room, you were watching Lando's stream. You couldn't help but smile as you listened to his voice and watched him play, feeling warmth in your heart. But when you heard him deny your relationship, your heart sank, and a heavy pain formed in your chest.

Insecurity washed over you. You've always known that being with someone as famous and adored as Lando would come with its challenges. But hearing him say you were just a friend made you question if you were truly good enough for him.

He not only denied your relationship but he also denied you. "She is not even my type".... Those words kept playing over and over again in your mind. You didn't expect him to tell everyone about you but you also didn't expect him to deny you like that.

It hurt you more than you wanted to. That mean voice in your mind getting louder and louder and louder with every second passing.

You felt like you interpreted everything wrong. Maybe you weren't in a relationship, maybe it was something else, but yet if you wouldn't have been in a relationship you wouldn't have told each other 'I love you' as much as you did.

You were questioning everything. You knew it was wrong. You took into consideration that you could've been overreacting right now but your insecurities were louder than your rationality.

You changed yourself into some of your clothes, leaving Lando's clothes, that were previously on you, on the bed. You picked up your phone and walked to the living room.

Once you got there, you grabbed a blanket and you opened the door to the balcony and stepped outside. You needed some fresh air and some quiet to try and calm your mind down.

You put the blanket around you and you set in the chair that was placed there. You set there crying quietly. You didn't want to cry but you just couldn't stop.

As as Lando and the boys started another round in the game, the banter continued.

"Focus on the game, guys. Stop trying to stir up drama." said Lando annoyed with his friends

"Drama? Nah, just trying to figure out when you'll finally introduce us to this mysterious 'friend.'" said Bankai teasing him

"Seriously, Lando, you've got some explaining to do. The chat is blowing up with theories." Max warned Lando as he saw the chat going wild once again

"Theories? It's just a friend, I promise. No hidden agenda." said Lando rolling his eyes, trying to concentrate on the game.

The teasing continued throughout the stream, with Lando playing along, trying to keep the focus on the game.

"Alright, enough about my 'friend.' Let's get back to the action, yeah?" said the curly haired brit while his friends kept laughing

"Fine, fine. But you owe us some answers, mate. We won't forget this." said Bankai before focusing back on the game

As the stream ended, the playful banter echoed in the virtual space, leaving Lando with a smile as he signed off, leaving the mystery of his "friend" hanging in the air, much to the amusement of Max and Bankai.

He was happy he managed to get through the stream without spilling something out, but what he didn't know was the effect his words had on you.

He went to find you, wanting to enjoy some time together before calling it a day, but to his surprise he didn't find you.He saw his clothes on the bed, the ones that were on you earlier and he didn't understand why they were there.

He called your name but no one answered. He looked for you all over the apartment but you weren't anywhere to be found. He sent you texts, still no answer. He called your phone a hundred times but he was still unlucky. He started to get worried but then he noticed the blurry figure of his beloved girlfriend and he walked to the balcony confused.

On the dimly lighted balcony, Lando sat down beside you, his curiosity evident. "Hey, I've been looking for you everywhere, I even called you, why didn't you answer?" He asked concerned

"I didn't heard the phone sorry" you said, your words barely above a whisper

"What's going on? You seem off," he asked, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

You hesitated for a moment, then looked up at him with a forced smile. "Just tired, I guess. It was a long day." You replied, avoiding eye contact.

Lando sensed something was amiss. "Come on, you can tell me anything. What's going on baby?" he reassured you, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, you finally found the courage and opened up. "I... I heard what you said on the stream about me. It just made me wonder if you really meant it" you admitted, vulnerability present in your voice.

Lando's expression softened as he realized the impact of his words. "Y/n baby, you know it's not like that. You mean more to me than anyone else. I just didn't want people prying into our private lives," he explained sincerely.

You nodded, a mixture of relief and lingering insecurity in your eyes. "I get it, but sometimes it's hard to hear those things, even if I know they're not true. I couldn't stop my mind from thinking it's true" you confessed, tears falling down your face

Lando pulled you into a comforting embrace. "I'm sorry if it hurt you. I'll make it up to you, alright? I don't want you doubting how important you are to me, ever! Trust me my love, you are everything I've ever wanted and more! I love you more than anything so please stop doubting yourself and your place in my life!" he promised, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

As you sat there, the weight lifted off your shoulders. Lando understood the importance of his words and remembered that people can interpretate them differently.

You sat there, looking at the stars, holding each other close. You managed to calm yourself down and let your rationality take over. You looked up to look at Lando's face. As if he got a cue, he looked down at you with wonder in his eyes.

"I love you! And I'm sorry I overreacted" you said quietly avoiding his eyes

"I love you too baby! And I'm sorry for what I said" he whispered leaning in to kiss you.

You sat there, on the cold balcony for a little longer. You fell asleep due to the exhaustion caused by all the crying. Lando noticed and picked you up carrying you to the bedroom. He placed you down on the bed before joining you.

"I love you more than anything my love, never forget that" he whispered kissing your forehead before he pulled you closer falling asleep in your arms.

#lando norris #ln4 #lando norris one shot #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando x reader #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x you #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fic #formula 1 #formula one #mclaren formula 1

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girlbooklover555 · 7 months

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"Wait, Sharkboy, I need to mark this sentence, okay? Annie, do you have any more sticky notes left?"

Poly!percabeth x fem!reader

warnings : cute and probably very ? corny ? summary : Percy suffering back pain and boredom to make his girlfriends happy

I'm using Google translator

Sally Jackson and Paul Blofis were not home.

They traveled, so Percy had the apartment to himself.

What would Percy Jackson want to do all weekend?

Certainly not a reading marathon, not that he hated reading, but having two reading girlfriends, he was as used to the smell of books as he was to seeing swords.

But he honestly just wanted to make out and watch a movie right now (he probably wouldn't even pay attention to the movie). But when he asked you and Annabeth to spend the weekend with him, he knew something to do with books was going to happen, even if it was just a joke one of you would play with the other about something.

At least he could look at both of you during the conversation and in some way while you talked enthusiastically about literary universes and character development.

Even if he pay attention, ADHD doesn't help much.

Two girls talking about reading.

Your girls.

It was something attractive, so sometimes, no matter how corny some people talked, their conversations and theories, or even literary disagreements (which sometimes took a while to end), was attractive to him.

Percy blinked his eyes, tired of boredom, and the playlist at the moment was rain.

Annabeth wasn't helping when she made that choice.

Neither you...

Your hand caressing the in his hair were great, plus the fact that you were Hypnos' daughter, so it didn't help his sleep much.

Percy tries to snuggle in the middle of the couch between the two of you, but now the couch, even though it wasn't hard, was uncomfortable after 2 hours there.

How you and Annabeth put up with this torture, he didn't know.

He got tired of trying to steal kisses half an hour ago.

' Wait, Sharkboy, I need to mark this sentence, okay? Annie, do you have any more sticky notes left? '

'Um momento, Seaweed Brain, estou em uma parte importante.'

At least he knew that the back pain didn't kill them, because every minute one of them changed position.

So, he played with a bracelet on Annabeth's wrist, which she was wearing, and took advantage of you touching his hair.

When Percy blinked again, he noticed that he woke up because of a sleep timer noise on his cell phone next to him.

“My turn to choose the playlist, Chase,” you say, excited to swap the sound of fake rain for a literary playlist.

Percy decided to go back to sleep again, while "Lovers Rock" started playing in the background.

When he woke up for the second or third time in the late afternoon, he smelled cookies coming from the kitchen and noticed that he was the only one on the couch and had a blanket covering him now too.

He looked up and saw, through the kitchen door, you and Annabeth talking something about cookies. “Sally uses more blue paint than that, honey,” Annabeth said.

Percy smiled and pretended to be asleep. At least this time he didn't drool in his sleep...

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo #percabeth #annabeth chase #percy jackson x reader #annabeth chase x reader #percabeth x reader #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #riordanverse #rick riordan

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xan-izme · 1 year

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Double Life (ATSV x Reader x Batfam)

Part 2

Summary: Reader has been spider woman for two years. Also working in the Spider Society for five months now. After reader suffers a canon event and losses trust in Miguel, reader has to leave New York and live in Gotham where her biological father resides.

You were in pain, holding a bus with over 26 passengers in it with one web and your mother hanging from a fall that could end terribly.

Spider woman was trying to save both the passengers and preventing the woman from falling. But that woman was your mother, she knew of your true identity, she helped you become spider woman. And like any mother, she can see right through you.

Your mother sees that you can't do this. So, she made the hard choice for you.

And cut herself off from your web so you could save the multiple lives on that bus.

You watched the cars pass by, fiddling with the jewelry on your wrist. After finding out that Miguel had knew all along of your canon events. He knew and never told you.

You quit the Spider society and had to leave New York to live with your biological father, a man who didn't know of your existence till recently. And it was none other than Bruce Wayne himself.

You wish you were able to stay with your uncle or your aunt. But it was against the law, it couldn't be helped. Your uncle promised he would take care of New York for you.

Spider-Woman was now out of the picture.

"Miss Y/n, we are here." A man named Alfred, was the one who spoke. He was the butler of the family. You gave him a nod and got out of the limo and went to the back of the truck.

"it's alright, I can carry them." You were able to grab your bags before Alfred could. It was just your backpack.

The mansion was big. It looked like a damn museum to you. You were hesitant to walk up the stairs to the door. Feeling a little nervous, your meeting people you aren't familiar with yet. On top of that, you're still trying to get used to the weather.

You adjusted your bag and walked up the stairs.

You were planning in your head how to playthings out. You did some background checks on the Waynes. Bruce Wayne adopted multiple boys; none took his last name. One boy who was of 12-13 years of age was blood related the Bruce, taken in by Bruce not too long ago.

You doubt you'll meet Bruce soon, due to his image as a busy playboy. So, you assume he isn't home at the moment, it's the weekend so the youngest by, Damian should be home, unless he is doing some extra activities.

Once you got into the manor, Alfred led you upstairs to a room that was now yours. All of your boxes were already in. You walked around the room, observing the place to try and get familiar with it.

"Master Bruce would like to see you down in his office in an hour." Alfred explained. You paused and looked to the elderly man.

"Oh, he's here?" That was a shock to you. You thought he would be out of town, guess not. "Yes." Alfred bluntly replied and continued to explain the some of the family members would arrive for dinner to meet you.

You gave him a forced smile and turned away so you could frown. Because you were so ready to be alone for the day, just for you to have to meet the whole damn family. Alfred left you to unpack.

You started to the boxes from the floor. Nothing was loose, you checked under the bed, the same thing. Causing you to move to the bathroom. You were actually stoked you had your own bathroom, more privacy.

You searched for any lose tiles, you opened the mirror cabinet. You could make a stash from the behind of the inside.

After an hour had passed, you left the room and slowly made your way downstairs. Taking in the paintings on the wall, the smells. You could feel your Spidey senses going off just a little bit. It wasn't too alarming; the feeling was just a bit faint.

You convinced yourself that you have gotten a little too paranoid. After everything that happened, you needed to get used to this new life.

"Hello? Mr. Wayne?" You spoke as you entered the room, knocking on the door frame, just in case he couldn't hear you loud enough.

Bruce was quick to stand from his couch and approached you with a smile. "Y/n, it's great to finally meet you." You held your hand out, he stared down at it for a quick second and shook your hand firmly.

"Same here sir." You smiled back at him. Bruce chuckled "You don't have to be so formal with me, Bruce is perfectly fine." You gave out a low, nervous laugh and nodded. Bruce led you to the couches, Alfred left the room to get you and Bruce some refreshments.

"I saw your academic scores from your last school. You went to a privet school in Brooklyn, yes? Top in all classes. Very impressive." Bruce was striking up some small conversation. You nod and wait till it was time for you to talk.

Alfred came in and gave you and Bruce your drinks. You took in the smell of the coffee you were given. You took a sip and continued to listen to Bruce. "There is a privet school where my youngest son attends, Damian. Once everything is sorted out, that is where you will be attending school."

"You mean West-Reeve? I-I assumed that school was for middle schoolers?" You questioned. "West-Reeve contains grades 6-12. Was there another school you had in mind?"

Bruce was hopping you would say no. He needs to keep a close eye on you. You're just a normal citizen who needs to be protected if anything to his vigilante life gets entangled with you in any way. So, putting you in the same school as Damian who would have eyes on you inside the school.

You had taken a moment to think about it. You didn't want to be in the same school as Damian. No hate to the kid, you just didn't want to see any of the other Wayne members elsewhere then in the manor. But you didn't want to push it, you are grateful enough Bruce as come to see you and talk to you in person to try and get you conferrable with your new living conditions.

"No sir, thank you."

Bruce sweat dropped at you still addressing him as 'sir'.

The two of you spoke a little longer before you left to head back to your room. Once you got there, the door was open. You frown, not remembering it being left open.

You then see a boy standing in the middle of your room. You realized who it was. "Damian, right?" The boy snaped out of his train of thought once he heard your voice.

You tilt your head when he gave you no response and just stared at you. You walked up to him and held out your hand. He shook your hand, squeezing it a little too tight for comfort.

"I'm Y/n."

"I know that." The boys' blunt words made you feel awkward. You cleared your throat and removed your hand from his.

"How come I couldn't hear your footsteps?"

'Okay, wired question.' you thought to yourself.

"I've been told I'm light on my feet. I-is there something you needed?" You just wanted to be left alone. You can already tell by this boy's snarky attitude, that he will be a pain.

Damian huffed and turned away. Telling you to enjoy your stay. Which made it sound like you were just a temporary guest. You wished that were the case. But reality is cruel, and you will be staying in this manor for a few years.

Dinner time was okay. You had to put on a facade that didn't look too sad. But didn't look so happy, you had to keep emotions in cheek. you only met Tim Drake and Dick Grayson. Dick was nice, he asked you a lot of questions, what genre of music you liked, what school subject you were more interested and your life in New York.

"Me and my cousin are really into science. He's more into Physics while I was more into Geology. We used to do debates on which Major would be more fun."

Bruce and Dick chuckle at that. You were smart, you had to address that. You needed them to know you wouldn't be a problem when it comes to academics. The manners you have been showing are to let them know you'll behave and not be a problem in home life.

You were able to speak to Damian a little more. He didn't seem that stuck up anymore. Dinner went smoothly. You bid everyone goodnight and head to bed.

Dick, Tim and Damian were in the bat cave. Bruce and Damian were ready to head out to patrol, but Bruce wanted to discuss more about you.

"She's a smart one. Can give her that." Tim was on the computers, pulling up everything he can find on you. Social media, school records, anything he could find.

"She and that cousin she brought up, were on the newspapers in Brooklyne a few years back for inventing a machine that could enter over 60 meters underwater and give out a wi-fi signal from 20 miles away- okay. Now that's impressive!"

Damian rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "Does she have any criminal records? Misbehaver in school maybe?"

Tim deadpans at those words. "Come on Damian, she seems harmless. A normal citizen." Dick spoke, letting out a chuckle.

"Well, she's a clean slate. And only had detention for being late to a few classes." Tim sighed and leaned back in his chair. Damian didn't know why, but he felt off about this new sister of his.

Bruce entered the bat cave and started to talk. He wanted the boys to make sure to make you feel welcomed. Damian has to keep an eye on her here and there at school. If she decides to join a club, then Damian will stay behind to be with her.

Of course, the young boy disliked this a lot. But he had no choice. Not like you had much of a choice either.

#atsv x reader #gwen spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miles morales #batman #batfam x reader #batfam x batsis #bruce wayne #damian wayne #hobie brown #bruce wayne x daughter!reader

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demonic0angel · 1 month

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Haunted Paintings Sketches!

Part one

I hope you enjoy the sketches I made of the paintings!

Also! You’re free to use my ideas (please give credit ofc) if you’d like, bc I REALLY don’t think I’ll write this one, no matter how much I want to. It’s just too much and I’ve already got 3 unfinished fics and several other series to write for. If you have any questions, feel free to ask or send me a submission! You can also DM if you’d like!

TW: mentions of suicide, murder, depression, mental illness, just really dark, creepy stuff bc these are haunted paintings and they torment people :/ no scary drawings tho! I only described them (click for clarity)

Jazz:

Description: Jazz is sitting at a table in the middle of a flower garden with a book in one hand and a teacup in the other. She looks tranquil and is dressed formally. On the table are a few plates, a plate of cookies, a bookmark, an opened envelope and a bloody butter knife, and a teapot that is slightly out of view.

Use of mediums: gouache paint, watercolor, and pencils

Focus: Jazz amidst the flowers

Inspirations:

• The Queen of Hearts from “Alice in Wonderland”

• Galna from “Mairimashita! Iruma-kun”

Location: She used to be in the home of a random crime lord in Gotham for intimidation purposes. She was kept in the crime lord’s office before being relocated into Wayne Manor, where she sits in the hall across from the library.

Extra facts:

+ Her scary form would be one where her tea is filled with blood and the roses would be replaced with decapitated heads. The sky would turn dark red and the ground would be a pool of blood. Jazz would smile and look at the viewer with shark-like fangs and hollowed out eyes.

+ The tea she drinks is Darjeeling and the cookies are chocolate chip.

+ Although Jazz is the weakest painting, her effects are deadlier, more painful, and longer lasting than the others if her victims survive.

+ She causes paranoia and dizzy spells. Her effects are rather weak compared to the others, but when spending enough time with her, victims can also display symptoms of scurvy, which cannot be cured.

+ She was the first one I drew and also the easiest to plan. I just love her so much, she’s one of my comfort characters so it’s not hard for me to find ideas for her 😭

Valerie:

Description: Valerie stands in the middle of a dark, foggy forest, wearing a long dress and pressed close to a tree as if she is about to hide behind it. A branch covers her face and the trees around her curve into a circle with multiple holes within them. There is a Fenton thermos in the background on the floor and an axe in front of Valerie, sticking into the tree and oozing something.

Use of mediums: pencils and watercolor paint

Focus: Her hidden face

Inspirations:

• The Son of Man by René Magritte

• The Beast from “Over the Garden Wall”

Location: She was kept in the back of an art museum, but the director has been hoping for someone to buy her and get rid of her, since he cannot handle the strain of having her inside of the gallery. Now she stands near the door to the entrance of Wayne Manor, a silent and deadly sentry.

Extra facts:

+ Her scary form would have her surroundings to turned into the entrance to a mouth or an intestine, red, fleshy, and bloody. There would be bones littering the floor everywhere and Valerie herself would become bloody and stained, with her face still hidden. Tortured faces would be seen through the fog.

+ The holes on the trees sometimes leak a mysterious substance.

+ Valerie is not the weakest, but she is not that powerful. However, she does amplify the others’ effects to fatal degrees.

+ She causes paranoia and auditory hallucinations, often causing her victims to feel as though they are being watched relentlessly, which cannot go away. Eventually, her victims will shut themselves into their rooms and starve to death from the fear.

+ She and Tucker had switched ideas, but I had to trash them. I never got the opportunity to draw those ideas because I struggled so much with Tucker that when I eventually got inspiration for Valerie, I just went with it. I’m quite happy with Valerie’s portrait now.

Dani:

Description: Dani, dressed formally, sits at the head of a table with a large painting and curtains behind her. She holds a fork and a knife over a pig head. Her gaze is downward and she looks like she’s frowning softly. The dinner table is messy with three other dishes and a knocked over bottle of wine.

Use of mediums: oil paint and oil pastels

Focus: Dani holding the fork and knife

Inspirations:

• Rosie’s Tea Party by Mark Ryden

• “Spirited Away” (specifically that one scene where Chihiro’s parents eat the food)

Location: She was hidden by Vlad and kept safe with him. He keeps her in his office, where he can watch her. He only recently found her again, and he was determined to watch over her. Now she stays in the Wayne Manor's dining room, but often changes her position to be next to everyone else in the bedroom hallway.

Extra facts:

+ Her scary form would be one where all of her food dishes would be replaced by very obviously human parts, especially with the pig head becoming a human head. The curtains would turn to blood dripping down the wall and Dani would be smiling, taking a direct bite of the human head that was in front of her with her fork and knife.

+ The dishes she eats in the painting are: pig head, vulture thigh, lamprey eels, and sheep brain.

+ Her at the dining table is meant to signify greed and gluttony, 2 of the most simplest sins.

+ She causes great feelings of hunger and paranoia in others. When spending too much time with her, some victims turn to self-cannibalism to sate their never ending starvation.

+ Originally, both her and Dan’s ideas were switched, so Dan would’ve been the one feasting and Dani would’ve been the one looking at her reflection. However, I switched them around because I felt like it would’ve been spookier. I even finished the drawing with Dan and everything, but then I just erased him and drew in Dani 😓

Dan:

Description: Dan is standing in front of a mirror, glancing behind his shoulder, while his reflection shows something different: him looking at everyone else and the door behind him by looking at the mirror. The party guests are all wearing masks and there are chandeliers on the ceiling. The party looks vaguely fancy, but messy with secrets.

Use of mediums: Oil paints

Focus: His reflection

Inspirations:

• Jeff Lee Johnson and his art

Location: He was kept in a locked safe within a rich person’s house in Italy. He had to been wrecking havoc on the nerves of everyone around him, but he is now safe and happy in Wayne Manor, where he is kept in the office to the entrance of the Batcave.

Extra facts:

+ His scary form would have all of the party guests dead, but their eyes would face the viewer. Dan's reflection would also be dead, but his actual self would be the same, only with an eerie smile as his eyes follow the viewer. In the doorway would be the figure of Danny. Blood would cover the entire floor and walls, but nobody would react to it.

+ Dan keeps his own masquerade mask in his pocket.

+ The woman who is directly staring at him is supposed to look like Maddie.

+ He causes viewers intense mood swings and long, often violent mania episodes or mind-numbing depression episodes. Those who keep staring at him will gain the feeling of being watched and haunted, often with visual hallucinations, resulting in losing their mind from fear and then killing others in their terror and panic.

+ I tried so hard to make Dan as handsome as possible. I think I pulled it off bc I’m a little bit in love with him ong, but I also kinda have to be bc I draw him so often

Tucker:

Description: Tucker is in the back shot of a desert, with his back towards the viewer, staring at a large skeleton that is seemingly climbing over a large sand dune. The skeleton has flowers in its eyes, and its hand reaches over the horizon. There is a single sun in the sky and an arm holding a pocket watch sticks out of the sand close to the viewer.

Use of mediums: gouache paint, pens, and pencils

Focus: The large skull

Inspirations:

• JT Music (specifically their JT album covers)

• The Giant God Warrior from “Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind”

• “Dune”

Location: He was originally kept in one of the rooms within the GIW headquarters. Now, he is kept within Wayne Manor, and stays in the theater room, where he whispers to the Wayne residents what movies he wants to watch. Sometimes, he moves to the garage.

Extra facts:

+ His scary form is one where the skull becomes covered in meat and flesh, oozing blood and tar while the sand turns red. The scene turns to darkness, and more limbs would sprout from the ground. Tucker would be nothing but a pile of flayed skin, crumpled into the sand.

+ GIW agents were unable to experiment on him, since he would purposefully cause machinery to misfire and slowly corrode his surroundings.

+ His painting is meant to be a little comic book-esque with one of his mediums being ink, but I felt like that wouldn’t be a PAINTing, so nvm

+ He causes visual hallucinations, hypovolemia, headaches, blindness, and osteoporosis :). Often, when his victims are autopsied, sand and salt can be found within all of their organs. He emits so much radiation that he can wear down the materials of the place he is stored in.

+ I DREW HIM THREE DIFFERENT TIMES OML, FIRST IT WAS HIM IN A WORKSHOP, THEN IT WAS HIM IN A MARSH, THIS IS THE FINAL PICTURE I CANNOTTTT IM DONE

Sam:

Description: Sam stands on top of a small, grassy hill with a path leading to a grave and an angel statue on top of it, close enough that she is blocking it. Around the hill are pomegranate trees and hanging corpses. There is no sun, but there are clouds as Sam stands with her back to the viewers in a long goth-styled dress.

Use of mediums: paper, glue, acrylic paint

Focus: Her standing on the hill

Inspirations:

• This Reddit picture of a liminal garden

• A mix of weirdcore and dreamcore aesthetics

Location: She was tossed into the ocean by her parents when they first saw her, but she later washed up on an island and now the animals and plants there act erratically and strangely. Finally, she was relocated to Wayne Manor, where she hangs on a wall within the greenhouse, happily watching over the plants there.

Extra facts:

+ Her scary form would be one where eyes would replace all of the pomegranates, staring at the viewer. The paper used to make her would become flesh textured and bloody, and Sam would appear abnormal, broken into pieces and cracked, turning around and smiling at the viewer with shark-like teeth. The grass would become hairy skin and the sky would become red, with swirls and more eyes.

+ Sam's "painting" is actually made of mostly paper, since it is a collage. It is a bit touched up by paint and all of the materials used are vegan and ethically sourced, though they do change.

+ The flora and fauna in the island she landed on have mutated so much that they’re basically mindless. They protect Sam relentlessly.

+ She causes general insanity and relentless symptoms in her victims, such as paranoia, intense episodes of mania and depression, itchiness that can result in self harm, and violent, unexplained behavior in animals and plants. She also emits so much radiation that she can cause sporadic DNA mutations, resulting in several forms of cancer and mental instability, often resulting in victims becoming inhuman and monstrous forms of themselves.

+ Originally, Sam’s portrait was supposed to be in a garden, but I wanted it more “liminal space” themed, and I think I got it right. I think it’s really simple, but I also feel like if I was able to create it in real life, it would be more interesting because it is a collage of paper and paint.

Danny:

Description: a picture of black blotches and scribbles with muddy and red stains. Any features besides the ornate frame is hidden underneath the stains.

Use of mediums: pencils, ink, charcoal, tar, blood

Focus: His crying

Inspirations:

• SCP-035 (“The Possessive Mask”)

• The Anguished Man by an unknown artist (it’s a haunted irl painting!)

• Bendy and the Ink Machine

Location: He was cloning himself in order to jump through universes to find his family. In the current universe, he was with the League of Shadows before he was found and brought back to the Wayne Manor. He is in the hallway with the bedrooms of the Wayne residents.

Extra facts:

+ His scary form is technically his normal form because he cannot turn it off. Once he is happy again, his normal form would be one with him and his family, smiling and happy. Until then, he haunts the minds of others and ravages their sanity.

+ He’s been traveling all over the multiverse in order to find his family. Coincidentally, they’ve all been in the same world for some time.

+ He screams all day and night for his family. It’s so bad that Danny has destroyed thousands of worlds in his grief.

+ He causes the worst of all symptoms, often causing the viewers who look at him to go insane and kill themselves or others, even if it is only a few seconds. Even those who stay in the same room next door to him are consumed with suicidal thoughts and intense moments of psychosis. Those who have survived encountering him and have some semblance of mind left say that he “cries” relentlessly. His paintings leak a black substance that corrodes the place around him.

+ Literally all I did for this picture was scribble in my notes app, take a screenshot, and then scribble some more on photos LMAO

Extra notes:

+ Jazz, Dani, and Dan showing their face while Sam, Tucker, and Valerie hiding theirs is intentional. Danny is a mix of both, because he actually IS showing his face, but you can’t see it past the black and red.

+ Every painting has a flower inside of it, specifically a carnation, which are often funeral flowers, and can mean gratitude, remembrance, love, and affection.

+ Every painting also has a mention or appearance of Danny in it.

+ I also tried to put hints of bad omens or signs of death within every painting. Some examples are Dani’s painting with the chopsticks sticking out of the bowl (a sign of bad luck and death), or Dan’s painting, where a woman is being strangled in the background and another is being killed.

+ All of the paintings generally have an ability to teleport to places nearby and can actually snatch up viewers to shove them into their domain. This can be a defensive mechanism (the paintings protect the Bats) or an offensive ability (they pull victims in and kill them). They also all have weapons on them that are hidden or not so hidden.

+ I struggled a lot with ideas and how to get started on some characters because I just had so many, and I wanted it to be creepy, but not noticeably creepy, like most paintings. I’m sad to say that I wasn’t able to use some of my planned ideas from inspirations of actual haunted paintings.

+ Discarded inspirations: The Rain Woman by Svetlana Telets (my favorite!! Please look it up if you can!!), this picture I saw on Reddit of a sheep being stuck under ice with its back exposed, a workshop idea with Tucker, and Dani and “Daughter of Evil” with mirrors and everything.

+ The world where Danny and co., come from is different from the world they’re currently in. It’s like a world where some people are the same, but others are not. Example: the GIW, Maddie, Jack, and Vlad exist, but Danny and Jazz never made it past their childhood. So basically a What-If world or something.

+ Their backstories are somewhat undecided, but basically, something dangerous happened to them in their home dimension and it was so bad that Danny captured all of their souls and put them into paintings so they would live (with the help of Clockwork). However, by doing this, he scattered their souls and paintings throughout the universes and he went crazy from it, and turned himself into a painting too so he could find them. Now his cloned paintings travel and sends itself to other worlds to find his family again, often leading to their destruction from his power.

Or something? Lol

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kurikive · 2 months

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MINECRAFT — 23. 1 MILLY LIVESTREAM SHOW!!!

The countdown got closer and closer. 3… 2… 1…

Most of Y/N’s viewers were probably expecting to see the owner of the channel herself. For some, what they were met with was much better. For Anton, much worse.

The screen faded from black to Anton in green clothes, green cardboard cutouts of cat ears on his head, and a full face of green face paint.

Behind the scenes, Y/N gave a thumbs up, indicating the voice changer filter was turned on, and it was his time to speak.

“Hello, viewers. I’m Widdung, Y/N’s alien companion. I’ve come to Earth to celebrate the milestone of 1 million people being subscribed to “isatellite”. “ Anton does his best to sound enthusiastic, and tries to stop his face from cringing.

“Widdung! Oh my gosh!” Hyewon enters the scene, “How did you get here?” She’s having too much fun with her acting lines, revoking the seriousness from everything that’s happened before the countdown ended.

The voice filter turns on again, “My spaceship brought me here, but it crashed right outs-”

The focus moves to a limping Jiwoo with fake blood on the side of her head and a fresh scratch on her cheek (done by Hyewon), “You!” She points at the bright green Anton.

The boy puts his green hands in the air and Jiwoo angrily speaks, “Your UFO crashed into my lawn!”

“Woah! Woah!” Y/N finally enters the screen with a colorful birthday hat on her head, tilted slightly to the right. “It’s not the fight to time, guys!” The other three try their best to stay on character and not laugh.

“...Time to fight.” Y/N corrects herself in a mumble. “Anyways! It’s time to celebrate!”

“Celebrate what?” Jiwoo asks.

“Hitting one million subscribers!” Y/N turns to the camera while her friends take out party poppers from behind them. The sounds of party poppers cracking and party horns fill out the audio of the livestream.

After the group finishes making noise and cheering, the screen is supposed to fade to black before the actual stream starts, but there’s no one behind the camera, so they’re left awkwardly looking at each other, then back at the camera.

“I’ll go.” Anton says, now without the voice filter. His green self quickly steps out of frame to control the stream. The screen fades to black, and a short video of the behind the scenes of the teaser photoshoot plays while the kids prepare for the next scene.

“Y/N, don’t go in there!” The sounds of the video camera tittering play before the actual footage plays. Y/N and Sooyoung, who’s filming, stand in the grass of an empty field close to the city.

When the younger starts walking towards the enormous puddle hidden in the grass, the shutter of a phone camera sounds shortly. The viewers can’t see, but it’s evident Sooyoung just took a picture of Y/N.

“Y/N your pants are gonna get-” Sooyoung is cut off by a raspy, cracking screech, “-wet…”

“Unnie!” The girl whines. The camera zooms into the wet seams of Y/N’s jeans, then pans to her pained expression. “I told you not to!” Sooyoung says from behind the screen.

The video is suddenly interrupted by gray static and noise, like the one of a shut down channel.

The screen fades back to the background of the first scene, zoomed in where you could only see the top of the couch and a fraction of the wall behind.

The camera slowly zooms out and Y/N appears in the center of the couch, birthday hat still on her head. Her cheeks had 1 and M written on each side. She looks directly at the camera with a sheepish smile on her face.

“Hey guys…” Y/N says in a cheeky tone. “Welcome to my party.”

Jiwoo snorts behind the camera, and Y/N sends her a quick piercing look.

“So… did you guys like my surprise?” The girl rubs on her thigh nervously with her palm, “I planned this whole thing in like three days.”

Y/N reads the comments from the phone sitting on the table in front of her. The chat was going way too fast for her to read, so she picks it up and chooses a random comment to read.

“You’re crazy and insa- okay. Well. Thanks!” A sarcastic smile shows up on Y/N’s face before she goes back to read another comment.

“Since when are you friends with Yves? Um…” Y/N looks up to remember the date her and Sooyoung started talking, “Well, we met, like, about three or four weeks ago. But we started talking like, four days ago?”

An awkward laugh escapes the young girls lips, “She’s a very trustworthy person. Anyways!”

Y/N claps her hands together and they make a loud noise. “We’re not at the Q&A section yet. That’s later.”

There’s a few mumbles but they’re inaudible due to not being picked up by the microphone. “Is he done?” Y/N mutters, then nods.

“So! A party isn’t a party without what?”

“Cake!” Y/N’s friends yell behind the camera.

“Anton, what’s on the menu?” Y/N puts her hand behind her ear and waits for the boy’s response.

“This pussy!”

Her smile drops at the unexpected answer, but anything she was about to say gets disrupted by the lights turning off. A very low budget rendition of the happy birthday song sung by the three of Y/N’s friends plays in the background. The lyrics are changed from 생일 축하 합니다 (Happy birthday) to 백만 축하 합니다 (Happy one million)

The flames atop the candles burn and light up Y/N’s eyes, a childish shimmer accompanied by her shy smile. This wasn’t discussed in the call, but she won’t complain about it.

The song finishes, and Hyewon exclaims “Make a wish, Y/N!”

I wish to be this happy for the rest of my life.

She blows out the flames and the screen goes pitch black, but the claps and cheers let the viewers know the room is far from empty.

The lights turn back on and after a few seconds Jiwoo returns to the frame with the others. “Happy one million, Y/Nie!” She says as she sits down next to Anton.

“Thanks so much guys.” Y/N looks around to convey her emotions to her friends with her eyes, she’s not very good with words anyway.

Her eyes land on Anton. Small remains of green body paint are left on his face and hands, but it’s not enough for it to bother him. She giggles at the sight.

“I feel like- this feels like my birthday.” The others giggle with her. “Let’s we dig in?”

The girl immediately frowns at her own words, “What the hell did I say?” She and her friends burst into laughter, as well as the viewers in the chat. She hopes they don’t notice her embarrassment rising to her cheeks.

“Let’s eat.” She says, now calmed down. The cheers from the other three fill her ears. They had no plates, only spoons, a dream and a very excited audience.

“Dude, why are the comments going so fast? Oh my god.” Y/N said with a mouthful of cake. “I’ve never streamed before so I don’t know how it usually is.”

Anton deadpans at the girl, “Please remember you literally just hit one million a few hours ago.”

“...Right.”

“Dude this cake is so good.” Hyewon says, also with her mouth stuffed with cake.

The four have been eating cake for what seemed like hours, just talking amongst themselves. Y/N’s sure some clips would surface on her Twitter feed that same night.

“Guys, I don’t know about you, but I’m kinda sick of cake.” Y/N leans back on the couch, pushing her belly out with a groan.

“I don’t even like cake. I'm not sure why I kept eating it.” Jiwoo mentions, mirroring Y/N’s actions.

“You know what I think?” Hyewon puts her spoon down on the table and stands up suddenly.

“You think?” Anton teased, earning him a deadly look from the girl as she walked out of frame.

“I think it’s time for Q&A!” Hyewon exclaims loud enough from behind the camera so that the mic could pick up her voice clearly.

The screen fades to black, elevator music plays for around 7 minutes.

When the screen returns to its normal state, Y/N sits alone on the couch, phone in her hand. She wears the green kitty ears Anton was wearing at the start of the stream.

“Welcome to the Q&A section. We have compiled a few questions from the live chat as well as questions I get asked a lot.” The music gets lower when she starts talking and Y/N adjusts her cat ear headband before it falls from her head.

“Let’s shall start we?” Before anyone laughs again Y/N threatens, “If any of you laugh the live ends right here and now.”

The girl clears her throat and gets back to reading the questions from her phone. “Ahem! Let’s start.”

Why is your name satellite?

“Ah… the OG question. I’ve gotten this one for years and never answered it for this exact moment.”

“We don’t even know!” Jiwoo says from the back and Y/N giggles.

“So basically, you know how my last name is Koo? So that means nine. And if you write the English word nine in Hangul it’s Na-in. And the Korean word for I is na and satellite is Ingongwiseong.”

It’s quiet for 10 seconds. If it weren’t for Y/N’s blinking and her goofy smile turning into an awkward one, you’d think the livestream froze.

“Y/N that barely makes sense.” Anton reasons. He’s kinda right.

“KOO? NINE! NA? I! INGONGWISEONG? SATELLITE! It’s simple!” Y/N doesn’t know if she’s yelling at Anton or her viewers, but they seem to have similar opinions about the channel name.

“I thought you just liked space a lot…” Hyewon says loud enough for everyone to hear and the chatroom and Jiwoo burst out laughing.

“Let’s move on before you make fun of me more. I’ve had enough.” A cheeky pout invades

The Q&A goes smoothly for the most part. The majority of the questions have to do with the behind the scenes of Y/N’s gameplays or about the friend group’s dynamics.

At one point, the other three join the scene just like before. They talk and joke around while answering the questions directed at them. How does it feel to be a nepo baby? Have you successfully hexed someone? Are you actually a bottom? Jiwoo got really heated at the last one.

They finished answering the questions they had gathered beforehand, so they decided to read some questions in the live chatroom.

“How was filming with NewJeans?” Hyewon reads from her own phone. Her and Jiwoo’s heads turn to Y/N, but Anton’s response is faster.

“Great!” Y/N pushes him away in annoyance and the four of them laugh.

“You’re such an idiot.” She lightly slaps the boy on the leg and he lets out a fake whine. “But it was really great. All the girls are so kind and funny and pretty. And surprisingly good at Minecraft.”

“Minji literally beat you, what are you talking about?” Jiwoo teases the girl, “And don’t say you let her because you know damn well you didn’t.”

Y/N sighs in defeat, her eyes landing on the leftover cake that got put away behind the camera. She gets the urge to slam her face into it and say nothing for the rest of the day. “Let’s move on!”

This was the last section of the show before some behind the scenes content played in the end, and Y/N was understandably getting quite tired.

Her energy decreased rapidly and she was getting dizzy from the comments moving too fast. Her phone was turned off and she just listened to the conversations her friends had, chiming in only when there was something to add or someone to tease.

Y/N’s notably surprised when her phone vibrates in her hand, so she turns it on to see- it’s Minji.

Y/N tries her best to respond to Minji’s text sneakily so that the viewers don’t notice. Hyewon does, however, and gives the girl a questioning look when she turns her phone and straightens herself up on the couch awkwardly.

Y/N looks at her and only a timid smile could be sent the other girl's way before she looks away and slowly takes the green kitty ears off of her head.

She knows Minji wouldn’t have stopped watching the stream even though she told her to, so she sticks her tongue out and tries to sneak a middle finger with it too. Hyewon laughs beside her.

“How long have we been up for?” Jiwoo asks all of a sudden. It’s 3 A.M, they started the live show at 12 A.M, Y/N hit one million at 7 P.M. Y/N didn’t sleep so she’s probably been up for-

“More than a day, I think. At least I have.”

“WHAT?!” The three of her friends yell at the same time. “Are you insane?!” Jiwoo yells the hardest.

“Wh- Well, I didn’t know Min-” Y/N cuts herself off when she realizes the public doesn’t know about her and Minji’s friendship. “I didn’t know I was gonna hit one million today.”

“We’ve been talking for like an hour, guys. I think it’s time to go.” Anton waves at the camera, the comments vary from shock to sadness.

“Oh my god, can I finish the cake?” Hyewon stands up when Jiwoo and Anton do, leaving a frozen Y/N on the couch.

“So, I guess it’s time for us to go. Thanks for being here, guys. I’m so grateful for all of you and how much love you’ve given not only me but the four of us. Thanks for one million. I’ll have another cake when it’s two.”

Y/N stands up from the couch and the camera follows her, “I’ll leave you with some behind the scenes footage. To show my love. Bye guys! I love you.”

The scene fades and after a few seconds, the footage starts playing.

Behind the camera, Jiwoo and Anton scold Y/N for not sleeping. Hyewon seems more interested in the computer.

“Dude. You have 30 thousand fucking viewers,”

“Tell me you’re joking.” Y/N rushes to Hyewon’s side.

“Is that good or bad?” Anton asks, confused at the sudden panic, “Don’t your videos usually get 500k views?”

“Yeah, but this is live viewers, Anton.” Hyewon answers, “This is what top tier streamers get on a normal day.”

“It’s probably because it’s my first one, right?” Y/N’s voice wavers slightly, still in shock at the amount of popularity that she’d gathered in such a short amount of time.

“Girl...” Jiwoo joins them, “You fucking made it…”

masterlist | next

taglist # @yumtooki @saysirhc @modanisgf @yerimbrit @sixflame438 @miinatozakiii @hotluvlet @mym1na @keiji-jin @wintersgff @wonyoungssi @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje @shozeu @nwjnsloona @kaypanaq @pandafuriosa60 @linnnsworld @hwabyul4wheesun @artrizzler19 @brocoliisscared @jeindall777 @haerinkisser

#newjeans x reader #newjeans smau #minji x reader #minji smau #mc-kmj

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sonamytrash · 22 days

Text

Always Been Here

Warnings: some character spoilers if you havent read the manga, fluff, angst, smut, topics of grief and death, oral sex (F and M receiving), kitchen sex, vaginal sex, creampie, dirty talk, friends to lovers, aged up characters, mentions of Choso, reader x Yuta but reader has history with Choso. Gentle Dom!Yuta x reader.

What can I say? I want reader to have their cake and eat it. I love too many of the JJK men to pick just one, so here's a fic where you and Choso were together. Yuta's always pined for you, but has been a pillar of support as you cope with loss. Feelings develop into something more, lust overrides guilt.

"Can't sleep?" Yuta's voice startled you, his question cutting through the quiet of the night. You looked up from your teacup, the steam rising like a ghostly hand, reaching for the ceiling.

You nodded, your eyes still brimming with unshed tears. "Just thinking about... things," you murmured, not quite meeting his gaze. The kitchen was dimly lit, the only light coming from the moon peeking through the window, casting a pale glow on the countertops.

Yuta approached slowly, his footsteps silent on the wooden floor. He leaned against the counter, his arms folded across his chest. "Do you want to talk about it?" he offered gently.

Guilt gnawed at you as you considered how your thoughts had been drifting towards Yuta more and more often lately. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the gentle touch of his hand on your shoulder when he offered comfort. It was wrong, wasn't it? To feel this way about someone else when Choso's memory was still so fresh? Even if some years had passed.

You took a deep breath, the scent of the chamomile tea filling your nostrils. "It's just... I miss him," you said finally, your voice cracking slightly. "Sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday, and other times it feels like a lifetime ago."

Yuta nodded, "I know," he said softly. "But it's okay to feel that way. Choso was a big part of your life, and he'll always be with you." he said, his voice low and understanding despite the jealousy he felt deep down. He had been there the day you lost Choso, had seen the pain etched into your features that had never quite faded.

He remembered the way you looked at each other, the silent conversations that seemed to pass between you and Choso. The way your eyes would light up when he walked into the room, the way he made you laugh.

Yuta had always been there, in the background, watching the two of you. He had been so young then, not quite understanding the depth of the feelings he harbored. But as he grew older, and as the years painted their strokes of wisdom on his heart, he realized he had been in love with you for as long as he could remember.

He had hoped, in his quiet, unassuming way, that one day you would look at him the way you looked at Choso. That the warmth of your smile would be reserved for him alone, that your laughter would echo through the halls of his soul. He knew it was selfish.

Yuta had been just a teenager when he first saw you, your beauty and grace captivating him instantly. You were a couple of years older, your eyes sparkling with a mischief that spoke of worlds he hadn't yet explored. And then Choso came along, a man who stole your heart despite the short time you knew him, and the bond between you was unmistakable. Yuta could only watch your love for another from the sidelines.

He often wondered if you had ever noticed his furtive glances, his quiet admiration. The way his heart skipped a beat every time you were in the room, how he longed to be the one to make you smile, to hold you when you were sad. But you had eyes for Choso, and the love you shared was something he knew he could never replicate. And as much as it hurt him, he had learned to accept it.

Now, standing in the kitchen with you, he felt the weight of the years, of the unspoken love and loss. "You know," he began, his voice tentative, "Choso was a great man. He cared for you more than anything. And I think... I think he'd want you to be happy."

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with the reflection of the moonlight. "I know," you whispered.

Yuta nodded, his heart aching for you. He knew that the pain of losing someone never truly goes away, it just becomes a part of you, a shadow that lingers in the corner of your heart. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I'm here for you," he said, the words simple but filled with a depth of emotion that resonated in the quiet room.

"You should goto bed." He says softly. For a moment, you just stood there, sipping your tea and letting the warmth of his touch seep into your skin. It was comforting, like a blanket on a cold winter's night. Then, with a sigh, you set the cup down on the counter and met his gaze, your eyes searching his, ignoring his suggestion. "Yuta, do you ever wish things could have been different?"

He paused, his hand still on your shoulder, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the coolness of the night. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice even softer than before.

You took a deep breath, your heart racing. "I mean... us. Do you ever wish that you and I... that we could have been more than just friends?" The words hung in the air, delicate and fragile.

He took a step closer, his hand sliding down to gently cup your cheek. "I used to wish," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "that I could have been the one to make you happy from the start."

You felt a jolt of surprise, your heart fluttering like a trapped bird. "Yuta," you breathed, his name barely audible.

He stepped closer, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped the corner of your eye. "But recently I've wondered," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "if maybe, just maybe, the universe had a different plan for us."

You searched his eyes, the blue pools reflecting the turmoil of his soul. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks—Yuta had been in love with you all along. It was in the way he had always been there, the way he had taken care of you, the way he had stepped up when Choso was gone. It was in the way he looked at you now, with a love so deep and profound that it took your breath away.

"What are you saying?" you managed to ask, your voice shaky.

Yuta took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm saying that maybe it's time for us to explore what could be," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "Choso is gone, and no one can ever replace him. But I'm here, I've always been here."

You felt a swirl of emotions, torn between the loyalty to Choso's memory and the newfound hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find happiness again. Yuta's touch was comforting, familiar, yet thrillingly different. He had been your rock, your confidant, your pillar of strength when you had felt like crumbling to the ground. And now, as his thumb traced the curve of your cheek, you felt something else, something that made your heart race and your stomach flutter.

He leaned in, closing the space between you, and for a moment, the world around you faded away. The only thing that existed was the two of you, the warmth of his hand, and the closeness of his body. You could feel his breath on your face, see the earnestness in his eyes.

Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, as if pulled by an invisible string, your lips met his. It was soft, tentative at first, but as you felt the warmth of his mouth, the kiss grew deeper, more insistent.

Yuta's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as if he could absorb your very essence. His kiss was a promise, a gentle reminder that he had been waiting for you, that he would always be there to catch you when you fell. You melted into his embrace, your body responding to his touch in a way that was both new and strangely familiar.

The kiss grew more urgent as the seconds ticked by, the ache in your heart slowly morphing into a different kind of longing. You felt alive again, a spark igniting within you that had been buried under the weight of your grief. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer.

You tasted the sweetness of his lips, a flavour that was uniquely his, and it sent a shiver down your spine. His other hands found their way to your waist, his thumb tracing small circles that made you want to lean into him even more.

The intensity grew, the line between comfort and desire blurring with every passing moment. Your own hands roamed down to his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt, the heat of his skin.

Your breath grew ragged, your body responding instinctively to his touch as you felt the wetness inbetween your legs.

With a gentle yet firm pressure, he pinned you to the counter, his body pressing against yours, leaving no room for doubt. His kiss grew more demanding, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth as if he were trying to claim you as his own. You gasped, your hands clutching at his shirt, holding him to you as if you were afraid he might vanish like a mirage in the desert heat.

The countertop dug into your back, but you barely noticed, lost in the sensation of his hands roaming your body, reawakening feelings that had lain dormant for so long. His grip tightened on your hip, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin just above your waistband, sending a jolt of pleasure through your core. You arched into him, the warmth of his palm a brand against your skin.

Yuta groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating through your chest and straight to your core. His hand slid up your top, cupping your breast, his thumb circling your nipple until it was a hard peak beneath his touch. You gasped, breaking the kiss to catch your breath, and he took the opportunity to whisper in your ear, his voice thick with need. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "Do you have any idea how much I've wanted this?"

You leaned into him, your voice a sultry whisper. "Tell me," you demanded, your eyes dark with desire. "Tell me all the dirty little things you've thought about doing to me."

Yuta's eyes smouldered as he took a step closer, his hand sliding down to palm your ass, pulling you against him. "I've imagined peeling off your clothes," he murmured, as your top is swiftly discarded leaving your breasts exposed to the cool air, his breath hot against your neck, "and exploring every inch of your body with my mouth."

You moaned, his words sending a wave of heat through you. "Tell me more," you breathed, your hand sliding down to grip his hardened cock through his pants.

"I've thought about fucking you," he said bluntly, his voice low and needy. "Bending you over this very counter and filling you up until you scream my name."

Your cheeks flushed, the words sending a delicious thrill through your body. You'd never heard Yuta talk like this before, and it was a stark contrast to the gentle, almost shy young man you knew. "And what else?" you prompted, your voice a seductive purr.

He leaned in, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "I've thought about you on your knees," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire, "your mouth around my cock."

You shivered, the thought of his hardness in your mouth making your pussy clench with anticipation. Your hand began to move rhythmically against him, feeling his cock throb in response.

Yuta's hand slid down to the hem of your shorts, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of your thigh before dipping under the fabric. You gasped as his fingers found you wet, slipping easily through your folds. His eyes locked onto yours, searching for permission. You nodded, your own hand moving to the button of his pants, your desire matching his.

He pulled back just enough to let you unbutton and unzip him, his cock springing free, thick and hard. You took it in your hand, feeling the heat of him. He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as you began to stroke him, your hand moving in slow, measured motions.

Yuta's hand was still between your legs, his fingers dancing over your clit before sliding down to slip inside you. You gasped, your hips jerking forward to meet his touch. His fingers moved in a way that was both familiar and new, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel your arousal coating his hand, making his movements slick and easy.

You stroked him in return, marveling at the feel of his velvety skin, the way his cock throbbed in your hand.

He kissed you again, deeper this time, as his fingers curled inside you, finding that spot that made you moan. The sound filled the room, echoing off the walls, mixing with the sound of your ragged breaths.

Yuta's thumb found your clit, pressing down in firm, slow circles that had you bucking against his hand. The sensation was almost too much to bear, the pleasure building like a crescendo in your core. You tightened your grip on his cock, stroking him faster, feeling him swell in your hand.

You could feel your orgasm approaching, the tension coiling in your stomach like a spring ready to snap. Yuta's eyes searched yours, reading the signs, and with a growl, he lifted you onto the counter, spreading your legs wide. His hand never left your pussy, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a steadfast rhythm that had you teetering on the edge.

He kissed you again, stifling your moans, his tongue mimicking the movements of his hand, and you could feel your climax building, a wave ready to crash. "I'm going to make you cum," he murmured against your lips, and you could only nod, your eyes half-lidded with desire.

Yuta's hand worked faster, his thumb pressing harder, and with a strangled cry, you shattered, your body convulsing around his hand. He didn't stop, though, his touch gentle yet firm, riding out the waves of your pleasure until you were limp and panting in his arms.

You looked up at him, your eyes hazy with lust and vulnerability. He leaned in, kissing you softly, a gentle reminder that this was just the beginning. He slid his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, savouring the taste of you.

With a groan, Yuta stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours as he tugged off his shirt, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest and abs. The moonlight cast shadows across his body, highlighting the strength and power he had honed over the years. You couldn't help but stare, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your climax.

But as he reached for you again, you placed a hand on his chest, halting him. "No," you murmured, your voice still thick with need. "Let me."

You slid off the counter and dropped to your knees before him. Yuta's eyes widened in surprise and arousal as you took his cock in your hand again, stroking it with a newfound confidence.

You leaned in, your hair cascading around your face like a veil, and took him into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the head, tasting the saltiness of his precum. He groaned, his hands gripping the edge of the counter for support as you took him deeper, the muscles in your cheeks hollowing with the effort.

The room was filled with the sounds of your wet, hungry sucks and his muffled moans of pleasure. Yuta's eyes rolled back in his head, his body trembling with the sensation of your mouth around him. He had fantasized about this moment for so long, but the reality was so much more intense than anything he could have imagined.

Your hand stroked his shaft in time with your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip, teasing the slit before taking him deep again. His cock was hot and hard in your mouth, and you could feel his pulse through it.

Yuta's hands found their way into your hair, guiding you but not forcing. He was careful, respectful, even in his passion. You could feel the tension building in him, his breaths coming in harsh gasps. You knew he was close, and the thought of making him cum like this, of being the one to give him such pleasure, had your own arousal spiking again.

Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking in time with your mouth. You could feel him swell even more, his hips beginning to thrust slightly, matching the rhythm of your hand and mouth. You took him deeper, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and he let out a strangled groan.

Yuta's hands tightened in your hair, his eyes never leaving yours, watching the way your eyes watered slightly with the effort. His breath grew ragged, his abs tensing with every stroke of your tongue.

"You're going to make me cum." He groaned.

You hummed in response, the vibration of your voice sending a shiver down his spine. You felt empowered, in control of his pleasure, and it was intoxicating. You quickened your pace, your cheeks hollowing as you took him deeper, the muscles in your throat working to accommodate his size.

Yuta's hips jerked forward slightly, his control slipping as the pressure grew. "I'm going to... fuck," he stuttered, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to hold back. But you didn't relent, your mouth working him, eager to taste his load.

With a final, desperate groan, he let go, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he came, filling it with his warm, salty essence. You swallowed, the taste of him both foreign and intoxicating. He gripped the counter tightly, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm, his breaths coming in harsh pants.

You pulled back, licking hom clean before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.

Yuta's eyes meet yours with a look of pure amazement as he breathes your name, his voice shaky with aftershocks of pleasure.

You stood up, placing a gentle hand on his cheek, your own heart racing from the intensity of the moment. "Let's go to bed," you murmured, your voice a sultry whisper.

But Yuta was beyond the point of patience. "No," he said, his voice thick with need. "I can't wait that long." Before you could react, he lifted you with surprising strength, setting you back on the countertop with a gentle thud. You gasped, your hands bracing against the cold marble.

With a hunger that was palpable in the air, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down your legs. Your heart raced as the cool air kissed your wet pussy, making your clit throb with anticipation. He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours as he discarded your shorts on the floor, leaving you bare and exposed.

Yuta's gaze was intense, his desire for you written in every line of his body. He spread your legs wider, his eyes dropping to the juncture of your thighs. You could see his chest heaving, his muscles tight with the effort of holding back. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with awe.

Without another word, he lowered his head, his tongue darting out to trace the slit of your pussy. You gasped, your legs trembling, as he tasted you properly. His touch was gentle, exploratory, as if he was worshipping a deity he had longed for but never dared to approach. You felt your body respond, your clit swelling with need as he licked and kissed your folds.

Yuta's hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he feasted on you, his tongue delving deep, stroking your inner walls, before returning to your clit to flick and tease it mercilessly. You could feel the beginnings of another orgasm building, your breath coming in ragged gasps. It had been so long, the sensation was exquisite, his mouth on your most sensitive parts setting your nerves alight.

As his tongue danced against your clit, his fingers slid back inside you, filling you up, stretching you out. You moaned, the sound echoing through the kitchen, your body arching off the counter. He was relentless, his mouth working in tandem with his hand, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

The sensations grew more intense, each stroke of his tongue sending a bolt of pleasure through you. You could feel your orgasm building, a coil of heat in your lower belly, tightening with every flick of his tongue. "Yuta," you gasped, your voice a desperate plea.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with need. "Cum for me again, please" he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Let me hear you."

You nodded, unable to form words as the pressure grew. His tongue swirled around your clit, his fingers curling inside you, and you felt your body tense, poised on the edge of something incredible. The orgasm crashed over you, your pussy clenching around his fingers, your juices coating his mouth. He drank you in, groaning with pleasure as he felt you shudder beneath his touch.

Yuta pulled back once your orgasm ebbed away, his chin glistening with your arousal, his eyes never leaving yours. You watched as he stood, his cock once again fully erect, a testament to his insatiable desire for you.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he murmured, his voice low and guttural.

Your eyes widened as he spoke, the dirty words a stark contrast to his usually gentle demeanor. "Y-Yuta," you stuttered, your body still pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

He stepped closer, his erection nudging against your thigh. "I want to be inside you," he said, his voice gruff with need. "I want to feel you around my cock."

Your cheeks flushed with desire, your body more than ready for what he offered. Yuta positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. He leaned in, his mouth capturing yours in a fierce kiss as he pushed inside you.

You gasped, the feeling of him filling you up, stretching you, was overwhelming. It had been so long since you felt this connection with someone, and the way he claimed you was both terrifying and exhilarating. His movements were slow and deliberate at first, giving you time to adjust to his size.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him deeper. He groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating through your chest. His hands gripped your hips, his movements growing more urgent as he found his rhythm.

You could feel every inch of him, the way he filled you so completely, the way his cock slid in and out of you with a slickness that spoke of your shared desire. Your body responded, your pussy clenching around him, urging him on.

"Fuck me harder, don't hold back." you breathed into his ear, the words coming out as a desperate plea. Yuta almost whimpered as his grip tightened on your hips, his strokes becoming more forceful, more demanding. You met him thrust for thrust, your body moving in perfect sync with his, the rhythm of your fucking a symphony of need and want.

He growled, the sound animalistic and raw, as he drove into you, his hips slamming against your ass. "You're so tight," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "So wet for me."

You couldn't help the mewl that escaped your lips as he bottomed out, his cock hitting that spot deep inside you that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

"Fuck, Yuta," you gasped, your voice breathless. "You feel so good."

"Yeah?" he groaned, his hips pistoning into you with a ferocity that made the countertop shake. "You like that? You take my cock so well, I always knew you would." He replies breathlessly.

You threw your head back, what a filthy young man, the pleasure of his thick cock filling you completely washing over you in waves. Your nails dug into his back, leaving little half-moons of pain that only served to heighten the sensations coursing through your body.

Yuta's breath was hot and heavy against your neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there. Your breasts bounced with every thrust, your nipples tight and aching for attention. You reached up, cupping them in your hands, pinching and rolling them until the sensation became too much. "Yutaa," you moaned again, your voice strained with pleasure.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss, and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard. You arched off the counter, the dual sensation of his teeth and tongue on your sensitive flesh sending bolts of pleasure straight to your core. His hand slipped down to your clit, his thumb rubbing it in circles as he continued to fuck you with a relentless rhythm.

The pressure grew again, your body tightening around him as you approached climax. You could feel his strokes becoming erratic as he chased his own release. "I'm going to cum," you panted, your voice barely recognizable.

Yuta's eyes met yours, a wild hunger in their depths. "Cum with me," he growled, his thumb pressing down on your clit with a firmness that made your toes curl.

The tension grew unbearable, the room spinning as your orgasm approached. Your pussy spasmed around his cock, your body desperate for release. And then it hit you, a wave of pleasure so intense it stole your breath. You screamed his name, your body shaking with the force of it, your pussy clenching down on him as you came hard.

Yuta watched you with hooded eyes, his own pleasure mirrored in the tightening of his jaw and the flex of his muscles. He felt your warmth spurt around his cock, your walls pulsing in a way that was almost painfully good.

With a final, powerful thrust, he gave in to his own climax, burying himself to the hilt and releasing his seed deep inside you. The warmth of his cum filled you, mixing with your own juices and making you feel complete in a way you hadn't in years.

He held you there, his cock still pulsing, his body shaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on tight as the world swam back into focus.

Yuta leaned in, kissing you softly, the taste of your passion still lingering on his lips. "Are you okay?" he murmured, his voice filled with concern.

You nodded, a content smile playing on your lips. "More than okay," you whispered, your eyes still glazed with the intensity of the moment.

He pulled out of you slowly, the feeling of his cock leaving your body making you whimper. He set you down gently, his arms still around you, keeping you steady. You could feel his cum dripping down your thighs, a physical reminder of the passion you had just shared.

Yuta took a step back, his chest heaving with exertion. He reached for his shirt, using it to wipe the sweat from his brow. You watched him, feeling a strange mix of emotions. It had been years since you had felt this alive, this desired.

"We should go to bed," you murmured. He raises an eyebrow, "We?" He asks with a playful smile. You roll your eyes.

"Yes, 'we' as in us."

#yuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu smut

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samandcolbyownme · 3 months

Text

I spent a lot of time writing and rewriting this. Adding detail taking too much detail, so I figured I’d just start right when it gets good and go from there and make a KILLIONAIRES series.

This is Part One.

Warnings are for the WHOLE SERIES | SMUT18+, strong language, swearing, enemies to lovers, mentions of weapons, knives, guns, gunfire, KNIFE PLAY, blood, injuries, wounds, arguing, some physical fighting, mentions of drugs, smoking weed, mentions of car accident, fbi!reader, reader being restrained, kissing, biting, hair pulling, scratching, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (m rec), violence and filth

Word Count: 5.7k | unedited

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

It’s been one body after another, sometimes two or three at once scene, if they are feeling up for it.

It’s been weeks and you and your team still don’t know who they are.

Billionaires are the target, why? No idea.

That was until you walked into the latest crime scene and the first thing that caught your attention was ‘They're not an inspiration, they're soulless scumbags’ spray painted on the wall in red.

“Heathers.” You snap and the officer turns towards you, “What’s up, y/n?” He looks from you to the wall and you tilt your head, “Did Gerald have any investments in anything?”

Heathers shakes his head, goes down over the report again, “Um.. oh wait.” He turns the paper towards you, pointing at something that sticks out.

“These people are after billionaires because they’re taking away from the people who barely have enough money to get by.” You turn towards the officer, “I need a list of people around here who have a background with the police.”

“Anything else?” He takes out his note pad and writes down what you told him. You shake your head, “No, as of right now I’m going to finish my look over here and then I’m going back to the station.”

“I can wait for you, take you back myself.” He shrugs and you nod, “Okay.” You smile as you walk away, finishing gathering everything you need.

You fill the chief in on what you told Heathers to do and he nods, “You’re onto something, y/l/n.” He looks around, “That thing Heathers pointed out, that I think was a plan that was talked about months ago.”

“What plan?” You tilt your head and he sighs, “A few people came together to buy an area of older apartment buildings on the west side of town.”

“The west side is where-“

“Exactly.”

You purse your lips, “Okay. I have everything here. I’m going to go back with Heathers to the station and start coming up with a list of possible suspects.”

“Thanks for coming on such short notice. You’re one of the best. We’re lucky to have you.” Chief smiles and you nod, “It’s the least I could do. You helped find the guy who shot my brother.”

“A few other officers are heading back to the station now.” Heathers walks up and you nod, “Alright. I just filled the chief in on everything.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

You both nod to the chief and head towards the car. As you get in, you let out a sigh, “I just can’t help but feel like we’re so close, you know?”

Heathers nods, “No, I know exactly what you mean.”

“Thank you for watching out for me. I know you and Ben were close.” You smile over at him, “I truly appreciate it, Heathers.”

He chuckles, “Would you please call me by my first name?” He shakes his head, coming to a stop at a red light, “Cody is not that card to remember.”

You laugh, “Sorry. Ben always calls you that, so it just stuck.”

“I just hope he’s back on his feet here soon.” He sighs, “Sucks that that even hap-“

Your body is jolted to the side, the air bags go off and glass flies everywhere. The sound of tires screeching to a stop fill your ears before you’re slammed back against the seat, falling unconscious.

——

You weren’t sure how long you were out for, but you were hurting.

You groaned as you lifted your head, but the pain in your neck caused it to fall back down. You heard distant bickering, “I told you not to hit the fucking passenger side of the car..”

“You fucking moron, you could have killed her. That’s not what we are trying to do.”

“Fucking Christ, I’m sorry if I missed the road and had to do a U turn… She’s here… what more do you fucking want from me?”

All of them were different voices.

You finally lifted your head, seeing four blurry figures in the distance. You tried to pull your hands, but your wrists were bound to the chair behind you, same with your ankles to the chair legs.

“H-hello.” You try to yell, but your voice was raspy. Your throat was dryer than fuck. You tried swallowing, trying to clear your throat before you yelled again, “Where the fuck, am I?”

“Shit. She’s awake.”

“Now if you look to your right, asshole.” The one figure motions towards you, but he’s talking to the other guy, “You’ll see that your target is alive.”

“Where’s Cody?” You ask, breathing heavy as the pain starts to set in worse, “Fuck.” You pull your wrists, but you freeze as the one man walks over and bends down between your knees, “I wouldn’t struggle sweetheart.”

Your eyes scan over his face, taking a mental image for when you do finally escape these psycho fucks, “Who are you?”

“Well, I’m Jake.” He lays a hand on his chest as he turns, pointing to each of the guys who walk forward behind him, “That’s Sam, Colby, and then the asshole who hit your side of the car when he was told not to, is Johnnie.”

“In my defense, I don’t have a license.” Johnnie shrugs and you just look at them so confused.

“So, by your face, I can tell you’re confused.” Jake moves to sit where he was just kneeling, his tattooed arms come up to wrap around his knees, “So let me break it down for you, y/n.”

“Where my badge.” You state and Jake just laughs, “y/n, sweetheart, I don’t need a badge to tell me who you are.”

Your heart thumps in your chest, what the fuck is happening?

“Listen. It’ll all make sense in a second, but right now..” Jake leans forward, “I want to know how bad you want to live.”

His statement makes your skin crawl.

“What do I need to do?” You ask, “Money? I can get money.”

“I mean, money wouldn’t be a bad idea, right?” Johnnie asks and Colby smacks him upside the head, “Can you be serious for once in your fucking life?”

Why were these men so hot?

No. No. Stop that.

You clear your throat again, “Can, I.. get some water please?” You look up between the guy on the floor and the blonde who speaks, “Oh she’s polite?” He raises his brows as he walks over with a water bottle, “Didn’t expect that.”

He opens it and holds it up to your lips, allowing you to get a long awaited drink. You lean back, looking down, “I’m not going to pass out or start foaming at the mouth in two minutes am I?”

“She’s funny.” Colby says tilting his head, “No, y/n. You aren’t. But.. Why are you so calm?”

“I’m an FBI agent, but..” you tilt your head to Jake, “I’m sure you already knew that.”

Jake smirks and nods, “Yeah, we’ve been, well.. I’ve been following you for a while. You’re the talk of the town you know. Super sexy fbi agent solves ten year mystery in a week.”

“What’s your point?” You sigh and Jake tilts his head, “You are going to be our little spy.”

“Your little spy?” You furrow your brows and then it all clicks, “Killionaires.”

“What did you just say?” Jake asks leaning in and you swallow, “Each case we have we give nicknames too. I’m assuming.. you’re the ones who are killing the soulless scumbags who aren’t an inspiration to any?”

Jake purses his lips, a smirk forming as he nods, “You got my message.”

“I was literally at that scene.. well, I don’t know how long I’ve been.. here.” You look around and Jake shrugs, “Five hours, give or take.. and we left your fuck buddy super trooper in the car, along with your phone and anything else that could be tracked.”

You stare at Jake, “How do you know about that?”

He smirks, letting out a sigh, “Like I said. You’re the talk of the town, babe. I knew they were going to bring you in for us, so as soon as we started planning this, I had to get a head of you.”

“You fucking stalked me?” You scoff, “What the fuck.“

“Like I said. Right now, I want to know just how much your life is worth to you.” Jake stands up, “When ever you’re ready to tell me I’ll c-“

“I want to live. Okay.” You look up at Jake and he walks over to you, hands resting on the arm rests as he is inches away from your face, “I don’t think I believe you.”

You lean in, getting closer, “Do you want me to fucking cry? Beg for my life?”

Jake shrugs, eyes moving from your lips back up to your eyes, “Why do you want to live?” You hold your ground, “You seem to know all about me, you tell me.”

Jake chuckles, looking back to his friends then back to you. His laugh stops as soon as his hand is around your throat, a gasp from the sudden action escapes your lips, “The attitude was hot at first, but now you’re just pissing me off.”

A smile forms on your lips and he scoffs, shaking his head as he stares down at you. His voice is low, “I couldn’t kill you even if I had to.”

He runs his thumb over your bottom lip and you snap your head away, “If that’s why you br-“

“No. We brought you here because you can help us take out all the billionaires easier, fucking rob their bodies for what they got. Give back to what they want to take away and leave them out to fucking rot.”

You couldn’t lie. The motive behind Jake, and friend’s, ongoing crime, was valid, but with you being an active investigator, you were sworn to put these guys behind bars, not become a pawn in their scheme.

“We just want you to get information for us, mainly people who are really fucking people over.” Sam steps up and you look over at him, “What’s in it for me? Like.. I help you, I go to prison.”

You scoff, “Do you know what they do to agents in prison?”

“That’s the thing, sweetheart. You help us, we help you.” Jake explains, “All we want is the information on who’s planning to buy and knock down that hospital.”

You knew exactly what he was talking about, too.

“That hospital is in an area where kids are constantly falling and getting hurt. You have to see that we aren’t doing this just to get a thrill out of killing.” Colby steps up, “I mean, they deserve it, so it’s very satisfying, but we do it because we want to help people and no one wants to do anything about it.”

You look between them, your breathing growing more rapid, “Yeah, m’gonna pass o-“

——

You bring your hand up to your face, rubbing your eye before you stop. You pull your hand away and open your eyes, sitting up quickly when you realized you weren’t tied to the chair anymore.

You sit up quickly, and a little too quick at that, “Fuck.”

“Yeah I wouldn’t move, too fast.” Sam’s voice causes you to jump, “Sorry.” He chuckles, “Jake still thinks you’re a flight risk.”

You raise your brows, rubbing your hands on your wrists, “So where are we?”

“About three hours from New York City.”

You were surprised Sam told you, but then again, you felt oddly safe with them. You didn’t feel like you needed to be ready to fight off someone.

You didn’t feel on edge.

“Are you going to kill me?” You look over at Sam and he shakes his head as he stands up, walking over to meet Jake when he walks in, “Hey.”

You nod, “Hi.”

“Do you remember our-“

“Yes.” You cut him off, “I do.”

He nods, staring at you for a few seconds, “Do you hurt? Do you need anything?” He reaches up, fingers gently brushing over your bruised cheek, “Anything at all. You tell me, okay?”

Your eyes stay locked on his and you nod, “Thank you.”

He leans back, “We’re going back towards the city. If you made up your mind, we can take you back with us and you can walk in saying you don’t remember anything.. or-“

“I don’t want to die, Jake. I told you that.” You stand up, closing your eyes as you feel dizzy, “I’ll get you the information, but you have to keep my name out of it if you get caught.”

“That wasn’t the deal.” Jake shakes his head and you scoff, “You said, if I help you you help me-“

“We’ll be back.” Jake turns around and you walk over to him, “I’m coming with you!” You push his back and he turns around, leaning over you.

You lean back slightly as you stare up at him, “I’m coming.”

He tilts his head, “I would know if you are.” He winks and you roll your eyes, stepping back as you cross your arms, “What do I have to do to get you to believe that I won’t snitch?”

“I’ll get you the guy that wants your brother dead.”

You freeze, “W-what? No.. that can’t be possible the guy that shot him is-” Jake cuts you off, “A cover up for the guy who actually did it.”

You stare at him, “Who.”

He shakes his head, “No. Not until I get the information I want.” You step closer to Jake, “I promise I won’t do anything. I just want a name.”

“We all want names, y/n. The faster you get me what I want, the faster you get what you want.” Jake tilts his head, “Do we have a deal?”

You chew on your lip for a few seconds before sighing, “If you’re lying to me, I’ll kill you myself.” You lay your hand into his and shake it as he smirks, “Feelings mutual, babe.”

——

“I just want you to know that you’re safe.” Jake’s voice breaks the silence and you look over at him, “What do you mean?”

“With us. Without us. Either way. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You laugh slightly, “I just don’t.. know how you expect me to be okay with this.”

“The only thing I expect from you is names, y/n. Everything else is on you.” Jake shakes his head, “I don’t want to kill you. If I wanted you dead or even thought about wanting you dead, you’d be dead.”

“You’re a killer, either way, Jake.”

“I’m a goddamn hero.”

You scoff, “Whatever. I’m going now.” Jake laughs, “Could have went twenty minutes ago.”

You roll your eyes, “No one told me that. I’m afraid if I make any sudden movement I’ll be sniped on site.”

Jake snickers as he shakes his head, “I’ll be seeing you around, y/n. Good luck.” You don’t say anything, you just get out and start walking down the dark alley. You did look pretty beat up, so wandering away from the scene is more than likely a believable story.

You hoped it was, at least.

You walk in and three officers quickly rush over to you, “Oh my god.”

“Someone get the Cheif!”

“Y/n, hey. What happened, where were you?”

You looked around before you pretended to pass out again, dropping to the floor. You laid there, eyes closed as you focused on your encounter with the Killionaires.

You feel people moving you, trying to shake you awake, but you don’t budge. You give it a few more minutes before you snap your eyes open and gasp.

“We have an ambulance coming for you, y/n.” The chief says as he bends down, “Can you tell us what happened?”

You shake your head, “I-I do-n’t.” You couldn’t lie, the feeling of agreeing to do this was weighing on you hard, but at the same time, you felt more safe with a group of random killers than you do right now.

You didn’t know what to do but start crying, “The acci-dent.. Cody..” you look up, “I-is he okay?”

The chief nods, “He’s in the hospital still, but he’s been asking about you. He woke up and you were gone. No one knew where you were.”

You let out a sigh, “O-okay.”

The EMT’s come in, telling people to make room and you’re taking to the hospital.

You were admitted almost immediately. They wanted to run all the tests so you were stuck there for a night.

It wasn’t long before Cody was pushed in, smiling as soon as he sees you, “Where the heck did you go?” You shrug your shoulders, “I couldn’t tell you, Heathers.”

He tilts his head, “Y/n.”

You sigh, “Cody. Right, sorry.” He shakes his head, “You call me whatever you want.” You smile and let out a sigh, “I remember I was in the cruiser with you, then we were hit and then I blacked out for a while.. I must have gotten out and went to the woods or something because I woke up under a tree.”

“You’re lucky to still be here. The damage to the car is.. I’m surprised you’re still here.” He moves closer and takes your hand into his.

“Was it a drunk driver?” You ask and he shrugs, “It was just me at the scene when someone else came rolling up onto it and called it in. I’m not even sure what happened myself.

Good, good, you think to yourself, “Hopfully we can figure it out. When are they discharging you?” He shrugs, hopfully this afternoon.”

“What time is it? What day is it?” You look around and Cody squeezes your hand, “Hey. Relax. It’s nine thirty in the morning and it’s Wednesday. The accident happened last night around seven.”

Sounds about right, or at least you thought it did.

You relax into the bed, “So I was thinking.” Cody chuckles, “When are you not thinking?” You smile and shrug, “I’m not sure, but anyway. I want to look into getting information about that hospital that’s closing its doors, maybe we help it stay open, get better supplies for it. There’s a lot of kids in that area, Cody.”

He stays quiet for a few minutes as he thinks, “We can move the families and such into protective custody.” He nods, “Y/n. That’s genius.”

Oh fuck.

You swallow, “Y-yeah. It is.”

——

“Everything came back normal. You were dehydrated and you’ll have a few bumps and bruises the next few weeks, but you’re going to make a full recovery.” The doctor smiles at you, closing your folder, “I’d stay out of work a few days, but other than that. You’re good to go home.”

You nod, moving the blankets off of your legs, “Thank you so much.”

“I’ll have someone come in and remove that IV for you.”

You nod and rest your head back, waiting patiently for the nurse to come in, which is rather fast in your opinion. She comes in smiling, settting stuff beside you before grabbing gloves.

There’s a knock on the door and it slides open, “I hear they’re discharging you. Is it safe to come in?”

“Yes, Cody. You can come in.” You laugh slightly as you watch him walk in. The girl puts a bandage on your arm and walks out.

“I just have to change and then I’m free to leave.” You stand up and Cody moves next to you. As much as you liked Cody, and as much as you shouldn’t, you couldn’t stop thinking about Jake.

“Y/n?”

“What?” You look up at him, “Sorry. I’m so tired.” You laugh slightly as you move your hair for him to untie your gown.

“I brought you a change of clothes. I figured you wouldn’t want to put your dirty ones back on.” He lays the stuff on the bed and you nod, “Thank you.”

——

Cody walks you up to your door and you get this odd feeling not to let him in, “Thank you, again. I will be sure to give my brother a call and let him know that I’m home safe and sound.”

“I can stay if you-“

You cut him off, “It’s okay. I’m home. I’m going to be home. I’ll call if I need anything.” You reach out and touch his arm, “You’ve done so much for me already.”

He nods, leaning in to kiss your forehead, “I mean anything.”

You nod, “I know.” You watch as he walks back to his car and as soon as you turn back to your door, you twist the knob.

To which is already unlocked.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.” Jake says as he stands up from your couch, “Cute little place you got here. It’s nice to actually see the inside.”

You close your door, letting out a sigh as you set your paperwork on the counter, “Do you have to make everything weird?”

He walks over and leans down on the counter, “I mean, I’m just that kind of guy I guess.” He smiles and you aren’t sure if it’s the pain killers, or what but you liked his smile.

“What did they give you for pain, y/n?” You toss the bag with the medicine bottle inside and he nods, “C’mon. I have something better for you.”

He holds his hand out and you feel like you have no other choice but to follow his orders, you and now your brother’s lives are at stake.

You intertwine your fingers with his and he leads you outback to your patio. It was fairly private, so you didn’t have to worry about nosey neighbors snitching on you to your bother, or even Cody.

You sit down on the patio couch, Jake sitting next to you after pulling something from his pocket. Your eyes go wide when you see what he’s lighting and you stand up, “Jake. I cannot do that.”

“Just sit down. You don’t do it regular so it’ll be out of your system in like three, I don’t know five days tops?” He takes a hit and you don’t know if it would be considered Stockholm syndrome or what, but you felt like you needed this man sitting before you.

“You said three days?” You ask sitting down next to him and he nods, exhaling the smoke, “Three days, baby.”

“Don’t call me that.” You scrunch up your nose, slowly bringing the joint to your lips and inhaling. You close your eyes, instantly feeling the high setting in, “It’s weird.” You breathe out, handing it back to Jake.

“Take another, sweetheart. You deserve it.” He pushes your hand back up to your lips, encouraging you to take another hit, to which you do.

Your body relax into the patio couch, you cough with this one, covering your mouth as Jake takes the joint from your fingers.

Once you calm down, Jake looks at you, “Why do you trust me?”

“I don’t.”

“Yes you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t have drank the water, hit this joint, or even sat in the car with me for twenty minutes when you could have left.”

“I was thirsty enough. I’m in that much pain, and I didn’t know if I was going to get shot or now.” You shrug, smirking as he just stares at you.

You tilt your head, “Why don’t you want to kill me?”

Jake laughs, giving you back the joint, “Alright, now you’re pushing it.” He looks over at you as you take another drag, “You can get something I need. Why would I want to get rid of something that benefits me?”

“I mean..” You exhale the smoke, “..I guess that’s fair. I don’t know.” You shrug with a laugh. Jake shakes his head, “You are pretty hot. I will give you that, too.”

“You’re not so bad lookin’ yourself, you know.” You purse your lips, “So what else do you want from me? I feel like you’re being too lenient with me. Aren’t murders supposed to be. scary?”

“You’re saying you’re not even the slightest bit scared of me, or any of my friends you’ve met?” Jake raises his brows and you nod, “I wouldn’t be sitting here, doing something I shouldn’t be doing, with someone like you.”

“I’m just..” he shakes his head, “Amazed, I guess? I was expecting you to put up a fight once you woke up.”

“Well, with the way Johnnie hit me, I won’t be fighting for a few weeks.” You sigh, “So what? Are you just going to keep killing?”

“While you work to get me the names I need, yes.”

You nod, “Okay.” You look down, “I know this is wrong.. but..” You look out into your yard and Jake tilts his head, “Say it, baby.”

You side eye him about the nickname and shake your head, “I agree with what you’re doing. I do, I’m just.. also under oath to protect and serve and this is not me protecting and serving.”

Jake turns towards you, hand reaching out to gently turn your head towards him, “I promise, y/n. When this is all said and done, you won’t have to worry about anything ever again.”

“I just want my name kept out of it. I can’t go to prison, Jake.”

He nods, “You’re too pretty for that place, they would eat you alive, literally.” He smirks slightly and you roll your eyes, “Oh my god. You’re right, but knock it off.”

He smiles and you shake your head, “I’m serious. I’ll get you the list of names, but that’s it.”

“Can you do one other thing for me?” Jake tilts his head and you sigh, “What.”

“I’ve always wanted to cross off fucking an FBI agent off of my bucket list.” He smirks and you stand up, “We can’t do that, we might fall in love.”

Jake stands up, following you inside, “What’s so wrong about that?”

“Everything is wrong about that. My life is on the line no matter which way you look.” You take a deep breath, “I’ll make a call, I’ll have an officer bring everything to me. I’ll have someone email me a list of potential names but Jake..”

“What?”

“You have to move fast.” You swallow, “I said something about getting a list of names and they’re probably already looking at moving them into protective custody.”

His jaw clenches and you could tell he was pissed, but he wasn’t going to take it out on you, “I gotta go. If we’re doing this, you need to get that shit tonight.”

He walks towards your back door and you just stand there, you didn’t know what to do about this situation. The only thing you could really do in general is get that case information brought over, as soon as possible.

——

You stand up as there’s a knock on your door. As you make your way over to look out, you see an officer from the station and you let out a slight sigh of relief.

“Hey Nat.” You smile, moving away so she can bring in the box, “You can just get it down on my coffee table in the living room.”

You close the door and walk in. She looks up at you, “How are you feeling?”

You shrug, “Doc gave me pain meds. They seem to be helping. I want to come back.”

“You take all the time you need, we aren’t sure what this accident was, and if it was about the current case..” She shakes her head, “We need you safe.”

“I know. I know.” You laugh slightly, “I get so stir crazy. Nothing like this has happened to me before.”

Especially the part where you were kidnapped and bribed by the current suspects in a massive case.

“I get off at five. I can bring dinner?” She tilts her head and you nod, “Please.”

She gets a call in her radio and she raises her brows at you as she answers, “McAndrews responding.” She looks up at you, “Duty calls.”

You smile and walk over to the door, closing it as she runs down the steps. You turn around and gasp, body jolting as you see Jake and Colby standing there.

“Sorry.” Colby laughs, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Uh huh.” You walk but then stop, “We’re you watching me?” You look at Jake and he smirks, “How was your nap?”

You ignore him and walk back into the living room, “This is everything, but go into my bedroom or something. They’re going to have people checking in and doing surveillance.”

Jake bites his lower lip, looking at you as Colby grabs the box, “The list of names in there?”

You hold your stare on his, “Should be right on top.”

His eyes move down to your lips and he smirks, “Thank you Agent Y/l/n.” He goes to turn and you grab his arm, his head snapping down to look at your hand, “What.”

“Where’s your end of the deal?” You push him to face you and he steps closer to you, “I don’t think you can handle taking care of a man like this.”

“What makes you say that?”

At this point you were both whispering to each other, bodies inches from each others, anger rising quickly within you, “Huh?”

He raises his brows, “I think, you’re all bark. No bite. You shoot when you have to, not when you want to.“

“What aren’t you telling me?” You furrow your brows and Jake chuckles, “What do you mean?” You shake your head, “There’s more to it, Jake. Isn’t there?”

He shakes his head, looking away as he tries to figure out something to say.

You challenged him more than he knew, and that’s never happened to him before.

“You’re smart.” He says as he looks back at you, “Figure it out yourself.” He goes to walk away and you don’t even think, you shove him in the back and he whips around, backing you into the wall.

He just stares down at you. You clench your jaw, hands pushing into his chest, “We had a deal.”

“Yeah? And? What are you going to do? Turn us into the cops?” He leans in close, lips brushing against yours, “Let me tell you something, sweetheart, we go down. you go down, too.”

You watch as he leans back, looking you up and down, “I see why your best friend’s brother loves to come over after shifts. I wouldn’t be able to stay away from the fire either.”

He walks backwards, turning as you stay silent and watch him go back the hall.

You couldn’t lie, you were absolutely flustered, but pissed.

You walked back the hall, leaning against the doorframe as you watched them go through the folders, “Try and keep everything where it was please.”

Your voice was quiet and Colby looks up, giving you a nod, “We will.” There’s a knock on your door and you whip your head over, “I don’t know who that is, so just please. Go into the guest room and please..” you look at Jake with a pleading look, “Stay in there.”

He stares at you as another knock on the door sounds and he nods to Colby, “C’mon.”

You watch as they go in, “They look in the windows, stay hidden.”

“I know the drill, babe.” Jake winks as he closes the door and locks it. You sigh as you rush to the door, opening it to reveal the chief of police, “Hey, y/n. How are you feeling?”

You motion for him to come in, “I’ve been better.” You laugh slightly and he nods, turning to look at you, “Yeah, yeah. Did McAndrews being over the files and stuff that you asked for?”

You nod, “She did. I actually, passed out while going over them.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” He shakes his head, “I just came by to tell you that we decided that since we have no information on the other driver of vehicle, I’m going to have an officer posted here until we get to the bottom of this.”

“Whatever works best for you, Chief.” You smile and he walks towards the door, “If you need anything at all. Please do not hesitate to let whoever know. You know all of them.”

You laugh as you open the door, “Thank you. I’ll be sure to keep them in the loop.”

“Alright. Rest up, don’t strain yourself.” He points and you point back, “You know I can’t help it.” You close the door and let out a sigh, locking it before going back to your bedroom.

“I told you to-“

“I know what you said.” Jake says, “But we don’t have time to waste.” He stands up, “Colby. We got it.”

Colby moves, glancing at you as he walks by you. Jake stops right infront of you, chest almost on yours, “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

He leans in, gently pressing his lips to your temple and you close your eyes, taking in a slow breath as he tilts his head down, lips right at your ear as he whispers, “I hope this was enough time for you to fall in love with me.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“I’ll think of you when I do.” He winks and leaves with Colby, sneaking out without a trace of them even being there.

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

Holy fuck. Okay. Please for the love of Jake Webber tell me how this was !! I need to know! I love you all, thank you so so so much for waiting on this, I know it’s not exactly what I had originally planned, but TRUST!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

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vivalabunbun · 1 year

Text

There Are Nothing But Flowers

Summary: You want to play house and he’s just hungry.

Word Count: 11.3K

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18+), Modern AU, Vampire AU, TW: Death, Terminally ill! Reader, TW: Medical gaslighting, description of medial treatments & corruption, TW: Blood & Blood drinking, vague mentions of violence, Contract Marriage AU, slight! enemies to lovers, Slow burn, NSFW, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Unrequited love?, Vampire! Alhaitham, Dom! Alhaitham, Human! Reader, biting, slight orgasm denial, overstimulation, creampie, slight corruption kink, temperature play? you fall hard, slow fic, tragedy.

Authors note: This is the other side to this work, your side of the story, please read the tags carefully. I wanted to explore the other side of the garden wall and themes of mortality, it’s heavy, please read when you feel well enough to see what lies beyond. Enjoy.

Side note: the aftermath

“Honey, I’ll be off to work now.” A dapper man straightens out his tie, a briefcase in his other hand.

“Dear…aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Are my pants unzipped again?” His eyes darted down as disembodied laughter rang out in the unseen background.

“No, you forgot this.” The pattering of house slippers stops as the woman cradles her lover's face between her hands.

The kiss from her immaculately painted lips melted the wrinkles from his forehead as the taller man leaned into his deserved affection.

“Have a good day at work, my love.”

—

A quiet house on the hill, white picket fences, and a lovely dog wagging its tail in the green yard. Eyes watching the vibrancies dance along a small screen, blocking out the gray in the peripheral.

Everything about this drama was cliché, the plot slow and predictable, just mediocre. So perfectly mundane that your hand itches to grab it through the screen like a thief. But are you really a thief if you steal back what was taken from you?

Before your mind can explore that comparison further a knock drags you out of the immersion, thumb quickly taps the screen to halt the fantasy.

“Good evening, ma’am.” The doctor in his white uniform enters.

“Hello, doctor.”

Two polite smiles greet each other, neither truly reaching the eyes. Your hands neatly folded together, his fiddling with the chipboard which held your verdict.

Observing how his teeth bit the inside of his cheek as his eyes scanned the charts. Your hands remain still even as he takes a deep breath.

“Unfortunately it has spread beyond our initial expectations. The results show that it’s progressed to a late stage despite our best efforts. Right now, you only have a few treatment options left.”

What happened to ‘just that time of the month’, ‘just get fresh air’, and ‘just give it some time’?

“There’s a series of procedures to cut out the spread, however, it might be very difficult as the infection is deep and intertwined with healthy tissue. The success rate is low, and the probability of it coming back is very high.”

What happened to ‘you’re young and healthy, it’s nothing’?

“The next possible treatment would be Kalpalata Lotuses. It has properties to slow inflections and has pain-reducing effects, however, it’s slow and inefficient in the long run. If you choose the first option you’ll have to pair it with treatment two. The first could give you fourteen years, the second on its own might only give you half of that.”

What were these past months spent behind a glass prison all for?

The constant hum of the machines filled in the dead space, the beeps on the monitors counting the passing seconds as two lips remained closed.

From the hallways, the chattering of nurses provided proof that the world in fact has not stopped spinning. Something dreadful filled the room, a silent suffocation. He was the first to fold.

“Please take your time to think this decision over, I’ll leave you to get some rest. Have a good night ma’am.” There was a flutter of pages folding back down to the clipboard.

The doctors were letting you pick your poison, how thoughtful of them.

Just as before two polite smiles that didn’t reach the eyes acknowledged each other, with a nod the doctor took his leave, eager to end his shift, to escape the unseen hands.

Not a word slipped past your lips during the one-sided conversation, tongue unable to string together a single sentence. What is there left to say?

As you lay back down your fingers brushed against the screen, restarting the episode as the laughter of an audience resonated along the sterile walls.

Maybe if the doctors, with their acclaimed degrees and status, were just a little more attentive.

Maybe if they didn’t simply see you as a lady with nonsensical symptoms.

Maybe if they didn’t view you as a statistic.

Then you wouldn’t have collapsed that day at work.

Then you wouldn’t have spent grueling months undergoing diagnosis after diagnosis.

Then maybe just maybe the Pythagorean Cup wouldn’t have surpassed its threshold, emptying out all hope.

The dialogue continues but it’s all but a fuzzy ringing now. Eyes watching the passing car lights dance upon the gray ceiling from the late evening traffic of workers, with their white or blue collars, eager to return home.

You longed for that, to return there. Hands itching to rip out the tube from your arm and the sensor with its pitched beeps.

Fourteen years, fourteen years of what? Bed sores from thin sheets? Chest pains at too deep of breaths? Stitches recovering only to be ripped open again?

Sounds more like a punishment delivered deep underground in a place whose temperature rivals the surface of a burning star.

Was it because you cursed at the man who cut you in line once?

Was it because you stole your college roommate’s sweater?

Was it because you never brought offerings to the Sanctuary of Surasthana?

Were you such a despicable person in a past life that the sins carried over?

Heavy lids closed to soothe the burning in your eyes, letting the warm trails run down your cheek. Reining your senses back from its escapade with a slow breath.

No. It’s none of that. It’s just life, capricious life. Capricious life that took your parents and now is hunting you.

There’s no karmic debt to pay off, there’s no faceless god to pray to. Setting one foot onto the path of true adulthood, only for your eyes to spot the end just over the horizon. What can you do?

The jumbled laughs and fuzzy speeches coming from your phone’s speaker were becoming too much. Thus you rolled your heavy body over to silence it. Once again the world outside the window was in view, the soft orange glow from the office right across leaking into the suffocating grey.

Oh, he’s at his desk tonight.

Wet eyes watch as the ashen-haired being shifts through sheets of crisp paper and his pen moving constantly. It’s strange, a bit mocking even, that an immortal creature could be so mundane.

Maybe that’s why their office is just across the Bimarstan, to taunt those who longed for that reality, beckoning them to sign their names on a dotted line.

Candace’s words were right, it’s a predatory scheme.

Perhaps hold habits die hard, after all, vampires are creatures of the night that once terrorized generations of humans.

Shielded by the panes of glass separating the two buildings, it was safe to continue this strange routine. Is staring at a stranger considered stalking if they’re the only view the windows offer?

He got up from his desk, moving towards the filing cabinet just off to the side, allowing for his profile to come into view.

He’s handsome, features outshining any of the male leads you’ve seen in movies.

Teal eyes, ashen hair like moonlight, tall and broad stature. It’s no mystery why so many heroes and heroines fell into depravity, lured in by their beauty, entranced minds blindly offering up their everything.

You weren’t special enough to be immune. Hence, why you continued to watch the nameless vampire who doesn’t know yours. Resting your cheek upon the stiff pillow, the feeling in your arm decreases like the cars in the streets. The pitched beeps keeping time.

He stood back up from his desk again, one hand grabbing the coat thrown over the back of a chair. Placing pens back into a cup and paper back into folders, he walks to the door before his hand shuts off the warm orange light.

It looks like tonight’s episode has ended on time like always. Rolling back to stare at the drab ceiling, allowing blood to rush back into your arm as the sensation of pins and needles crawled up. It wasn’t bothersome, as tonight's viewing evoked entertaining thoughts.

What a punctual vampire, where does he go after midnight? To a tavern or home?

Is someone waiting at the door for him there? Welcoming him back with soft lips?

Is that why he’s so eager to leave?

Your lids were growing heavy, the view of a blank ceiling wanes your alertness. The sweet curiosities coax you to continue in the realm of dreams, you listened to their call.

Could you be that someone?

“So, how ya feeling?” Dehya places down a container filled with baklava.

“Mmm…”

The metal legs of the visitor's chair scraped across the floor as she awaits your response.

“Would you still be my friend if I was a rock, Dehya?”

“Ahh, not this again.” She rolls her eyes.

Sitting upright in the hospital bed, hands folded together you awaited her response.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll still love you to bits even if you’re a pebble or something,” Dehya sighs, but there’s an upward tilt in her lips.

“I’ll love you too.” You helped yourself to some baklava.

A reward for your diversion of a miserable topic with sweet nonsense and special words. After all, she’s got a difficult job during the night, no need to make the day as difficult. Your mother used to say to save such words only for a special someone, but that’s the point of a word if it's never used?

–

“So, a few weeks ago I took this assignment that–” Dehya’s sapphire eyes moved behind you, gazing out the window where the sunlight poured in.

“Ugh, his office is right across from you.”

“Who?”

“Alhaitham, he’s a vampire I had the misfortune of meeting during a job, not that he’d remember.”

So the vampire’s name was Alhaitham, it felt nice on your tongue.

“Oh? How come?”

“He just always talks in long, convoluted sentences, and in that snooty tone, snooty even for a vampire.” Dehya takes a piece of baklava to ease her from that bitter work experience.

“My, I wonder how his spouse bares with him.” The bait was set out.

“Pfft?! Ahaha! Who? It’s nearly impossible to spend five minutes by his side.”

“Mm, really?”

“No ring on his finger. From what I’ve gathered even other vampires can’t stand that personality of his.” Dehya takes another piece.

Success.

–

The container of baklava now only holds a few crumbs and traces of sweet syrup. The sun was beginning to kiss the horizon, a sign that your friend’s visit was coming to an end.

After all, she’s got a duty to fulfill as a hunter that maintains the balance between mortals and creatures who dare cross the boundaries of the law.

Right as your hand returns from the air after bidding goodbye, it lands on the cold screen of your phone. In an age of growing cities and ever-advancing technologies, you’re grateful for these developments. As it makes your next actions possible.

It’s hard to miss a name when the letters are written in bold, imposing signs along the building just beyond the panes of glass.

As per Sumeru regulation, all employed vampires must be listed on company sites, an attempt at keeping track of such creatures.

Scrolling page after page until eyes landed upon familiar ash-mint trusses.

Name: Alhaitham

Species: Vampire (Born)

Title: Secretary

Years At Company: 168

Fingers clicked on the next tab.

“To apply for a blood contract, one must bring personal identification, and fill out an application during an appointed consultation with the vampire present. Once the boundaries of the contract are established, it will go through the approvement process.”

Eyes moved to the next tab.

“Seven years is the maximum time for a singular contract, but it can be renewed every seven years. Both parties must fulfill the terms written on the contract. The value of a contract is determined by the amount of blood offered on a regular basis or in a future deposit. Applying for a contract that gives the maximum, 10 pints, in a full sum amount must pass a psychological evaluation.”

Fourteen years is an unjustly cruel fate, but seven… Seven might be tolerable. After all, it’s often called the number of luck, you wonder if vampires were aware of this, maybe that’s why they chose that arbitrary number.

Waiting as the sun disappears behind the horizon with your head resting against the stiff pillow. The warm orange glow from the office across from you signaled the start of tonight’s episode. Observing every stop and start of his pen as two voices wrangled your thoughts.

There was a guest featured in this episode it seems, another vampire enters the office with a fresh stack of paper. He seemed eager for Alhaitham’s approval, even going as far as offering a pen out from his own pocket. However, this plan was foiled by a simple rise of hand by the male lead.

The universal signal for rejection.

The guest seemed dumbstruck. The only explanation the silver-haired lead gave was a simple gesture toward a clock. The guest’s hands were moving frantically as if to convey the urgency of the papers piled up.

However, Alhaitham simply takes his coat from the back of his chair and shuts off the warm light.

In the murky darkness, your eyes could just barely make out the silhouettes of two figures traversing out of the office. Oh, tonight’s episode has ended just on time as always.

How shamelessly punctual that vampire is. Some might even call it selfish. But what’s wrong with being selfish? After all, all true passions in life in the end are thinly veiled excuses for selfishness.

If life wanted to be shamelessly selfish, then why can’t you? With that, it seems one voice has finally emerged victorious.

Your fingers crept towards a button just off to the side, a quiet ding resounding as the bright glow flashed. Breaths counting the minutes before a set of footsteps stopped in front of your room, followed by a polite knock.

“Is there something you need, ma’am?”

“Yes, I want to discharge myself tomorrow, as soon as possible.”

Your eyes traced over the too-long string of zeros printed on the check, hands wanting to crumble up the slip of paper. So this is how much your life was worth. Standing outside the Bimarstan, you peered up at the tall building that once caged you.

Were the administrators looking down at you at this moment from their high offices? Were they watching your reaction to their little bribe? Pushing you to keep your lips shut, so that their mistakes and misjudgments won’t reach the ears of the press?

It doesn’t really matter now, but it was thoughtful of them to hand out an extra bargaining chip. Refocusing your attention back on the building just across the street, there were still some preparations to finish.

–

The time was now 6:30 pm, the sun has ran off into the night allowing for the stars to guide you back to the building just beyond the glass.

A simple bag held your offerings: proof of identity, property documents, doctor's notes, and bank statements handsomely topped off with the help of a certain check.

There’s a jitter in your legs as you stood just beyond the threshold of the sliding doors. Is it really the right thing to do?

What would be the look on the faces of your dearest friends?

Would the handsome stranger show last night’s gesture to you too?

Your lungs steadily filled with the crisp air, pushing their capacity almost to the point of pain, you exhaled.

The right thing to do is to be selfish, they’ll understand sooner or later, and the worst thing he could do is say no.

Even if you leave with your cheeks burning in shame, the burn would only last seven years. Your feet stepped past the threshold and the glass doors parted.

“Excuse me, is Mr. Alhaitham here tonight?” You already knew the answer.

“Hm? Yes… Are you looking for him, youngster?” The receptionist quirks a brow at you.

“Yes, I want to schedule a contract consultation with him right now.” You take note of her name tag.

“Hold just one moment, the secretary-”

“Is his schedule occupied right now?”

“No, but if you’d let me finish, Alhaitham isn’t one of the vampires that usually accept such-”

“Please, Madam Faruzan?”

You weren’t sure if it was the polite address of her name or the plead in your gaze that was the cause of the decisive furrow between her brows. However, her shoulders slumped forward as a huff leaves her lips.

“Alright, please follow me.” She gestures a hand, welcoming you to the elevator just behind the desk.

“Thank you.”

Within the confines of the fancy cart, the blue-haired vampire asks over and over if you had all the correct documents, listing each one out. Your skilled ears tuned every word out, nodding along to feign attention. Finally, the saving grace of a pleasant ding signals the chart’s stop at its destination.

When the polished doors slid apart, you charged out into the floor, your legs guiding you to the office with the clearest view of your old glass cage.

From behind you, Faruzan called out your name as she mutter something about how humans these days are always in just a rush. Your ears could care less about her words.

Gallivanting through the threshold of his open office door, you finally came face to face with the male lead you’ve been fawning over.

As his eyes meet yours, you observed the brilliant shades of teal and ocher in them. Really, the view from across two panes of glass couldn’t detail his true beauty.

“Hello, Mr. Alhaitham.” You beamed your best smile.

The pattering of steps behind you comes to a stop as Faruzan finally catches up exasperated at your impatience.

“Secretary Alhaitham, this young lady here would like to make a blood contract with you.”

The weight of his teal gaze shifted back on your frame after your late introduction, assessing the situation as you awaited his response.

“I see.” He nods while walking out from behind the desk, pulling out the chair in front of it.

The receptionist took her cue to leave the room, shutting the office door on the way out. The room now balanced with just one mortal and one immortal.

You paid no mind to his words as you settled down into the seat, after all, you’ve already read through them. Instead, your ears absorbed his timbre tone and smooth cadence. What a dangerously beautiful voice, it’s beckoning you towards the murkier waters.

“What are your demands?”

“Marry me.” Your lips blurted the truth out before shame got the chance to stop them.

Remember, the worst he could do is to show you the door.

–

In truth, you were preparing yourself to see the open palm of his large hand as he rejects your ridiculous proposal. Yet, here you were, still in his office. Sitting just across the expanse of his dark oak desk, all your documents scattered across it as Alhaitham’s pen guided across a form.

“What are the living arrangements you expect?” He doesn’t glance up from the paper.

“Mm… Would moving into your home be possible? Married couples usually live together.”

“That’s possible. Expectations for domestic and financial responsibilities?”

“I can’t work, so I don’t mind taking care of the house. But, I do want us to share some chores, so I don’t go insane.” You wonder if the ends of his lips would curl at your humor.

“I see.” The pen continues to record the sentences down on the form.

You kept the smile up despite the sting of failure.

“So… How much blood do vampires need?” Best to move on.

“It depends. Humans can give at most two pints of blood safely, and only once every two months.”

“You only need to feed once every two months?”

“Yes, would that be an issue?”

Lips parted, your next sentence dangles just off the tip of it. However, it seems that Alhaitham had already read them.

“Mortal medicine has no effect on our bodies.”

“Are there any restrictions on affection? Any personal boundaries?” You pivoted to another question.

The pen stops for a moment, his teal eyes shifting off the paper for just a brief moment as he evaluates numerous scenarios, or at least that’s what you think he’s doing.

“Deep kisses are not permitted.” Alhaitham’s teal eyes pierced straight into yours as he delivered the verdict.

It’s silly really, you really don’t have the right to demand an ounce of touch from him, you aren’t entitled to his personal space. However, something still made your stomach sink.

“Oh?... May I ask why?”

“There runs the risk of blood contamination through exchanging saliva, our incisors are quite sharp.”

Oh. You read between the lines he penned down. The most sacred law of this age, a time where mortals and immortals walk alongside each other: vampires cannot turn humans into immortal beings.

He’s being precautious, after all the price he’d have to pay for a drop of his blood tainting yours is far greater than anything you could offer. Yet, the greed deep within you wouldn’t stay silent.

“Are closed-mouth kisses okay then?” Haggling the clauses like you were at a market stall.

Once more the pen stops as he contemplates your bargain.

“Yes.”

“The contract has been submitted to the legal department. If you pass the evaluation, it’ll be approved by the end of this month. I look forward to your cooperation.”

And with his disembodied voice over the phone, he accepts your proposal. Alhaitham agreed to play the role of your husband. The anticipation that weighed down your shoulders for the past three days was finally lifted. Hopefully he can’t hear your idiotic grin through the phone.

Success.

—

“No, I won’t accept this.” Dehya slams her glass down, unfazed by the glances from surrounding tables.

“Please reconsider your decision.” Candace gives you her disapproving gaze.

Shifting your eyes over to Nilou, poor sweet Nilou whose wide eyes could only convey the word ‘why?’. The interrogation after showing the ring to your dearest friends was much more intense than the evaluation you underwent to get the marriage approved.

However, it’s to be expected. After all, two of the people at this table were hunters. If anyone knew the true brutality vampires hold, it would be them.

Tapping on the screen of your phone to reveal the time. Of course, you won’t arrive at this negotiation unprepared. Glancing back up to face the counsel of your friends, a honeyed smile on your lips.

“Would you guys have the time to accompany me to a doctor’s visit?”

–

That took longer than you expected, walking out of the sliding glass doors which reflect the everchanging hues of dusk. The cause for this extended session at the Bimarstan was the numerous times your dearest guests made the poor doctor repeat your verdict.

Each time hoping that something different would leave his mouth. Peering up at the building across the street, you wonder if he’s getting ready to leave the house soon.

The closing of the automatic doors draws your attention back to the three figures who followed behind you. Pensiveness eyes downcasted as their minds continued to digest the events that have unfolded.

“Pfft! What’s with this atmosphere?” A giggle leaves your breath, it’s unbefitting for a gathering of friends.

“I won’t force you to attend my wedding if you don’t want to. However, I’ll be quite the lonely bride without any bridesmaids.” There was your honeyed smile again.

They could say no, they could beg you to drink the first poison offered by the doctors, they could ask you to give them more time, to give yourself more time. But they won’t. You knew they won’t.

Unlike you, they’re selfless and heedful, all your fortune in life must’ve been spent on finding such dear friends.

You’re the only selfish one.

There are many things you like about Alhaitham. Even excluding his excellent physique, his starlight hair and beryl-citrine eyes, he’s got the perfect traits of a life partner. He satisfies all the aspects of the ideal husband. Never leaving you wanting or hungry. You could list all his positive traits.

–

One, by simply holding out a hand, he’ll place his black card onto your awaiting palm. Not even batting an eye when you returned home from a ‘simple grocery run’ in a new set of clothes with the tags still on.

When you mentioned to him that a TV would look nice on the empty living room wall, he ordered one on the same day. How dreamy.

–

Two, he’s quite the interesting specimen.

“So, if someone were to douse you with blessed water, your flesh won’t burn?”

“No.”

Alhaitham humors your ridiculous inquires about his species, enlightening you to just how inaccurate those films and shows you loved were.

He even humors the trivial anniversaries, celebrations, and dates inspired by any recent dramas you fancied. The wedding was proof enough: he tolerates your fantasies.

–

Three, what you liked most of all: he’s too smart to ask redundant questions. After all, he’s read the files, he’s seen the diagnosis.

It’s not some secret that shall not be told, not a monster that shall not be named. Just like how there’s no point in telling someone the sky is blue, there’s nothing left to say about the doctor's notes.

No surprises, no sudden alarms, just the artificially sweet lull of domestic life.

–

Performing the part of a doting husband with such spectacular accuracy, you could almost mistake it as sincere.

You applaud the amount of skill it takes. However, costars are meant to bring out the best in each other, pushing one another past their thresholds for an excellent show.

The slightest blunders of lines and facial muscles couldn’t fool your expert gaze. It does take one to know one.

–

“Haitham,” you called out.

Setting down the two servings of biryani on the dinner table, the rich spices perfumed through the halls. It only takes one call for Alhaitham to come out from his library, halting for a second at the threshold of the kitchen before swiftly composing himself once more.

“Dinner is ready, it’s biryani tonight.” You gestured for him to take a seat, a smile ever present on your lips.

“Thank you.” He takes his place.

You take your place just across the table, wasting no time enjoying the fruit of labor after standing over a stove. Every grain of rice perfectly coated in the right amount of seasoning, just the correct level of richness. The recipe you followed online deserved its high rating, it’s delicious.

Traveling across the length of the dinner table, your leaden gaze landed upon the figure who has yet to touch his meal. That must’ve been enough for him to take his cue, bringing a spoon full into his mouth, chewing then shallowing.

“How is it?” Resting an elbow on the polished oak.

“You’ve worked hard on this dish, thank you.” He takes another bite.

Letting out a pleased hum, you released him from this scene. Turning your attention back to your own meal.

You’ll clear your plate in about twenty more bites, and he’ll continue to push the contents of his plate around once in a while faking a bite. Then after you’re finished, he’ll swiftly offer to clear the table and dishes, telling you to retire to the bedroom for rest.

A clever diversion from his ultimate goal of dumping your cooking into the trash. You’ve gone through this script for two years now.

It’s practically impossible to completely suppress one’s true intentions and instincts. Alhaitham can’t fully prevent the corners of his lips from down-turning every time you address him with that botched nickname.

He can’t entirely stop the sigh escaping his lips whenever you call for him to help with menial tasks, unbefitting for such a noble creature.

He can’t suppress the repulsive scrunch of his nose every time your cooking assaults his palate, the same reaction witnessed during the bi-monthly feeding sessions.

The same disgust he has of your blood, you thought mortal medicines has no effect on such beings, an oversight on his part.

He’s not as much of a mastermind as he might think, after all, he’s the one who allowed a piece of paper to be dangled over his head. Placing the power of clauses into the palm of your awaiting hand.

You tell him ‘jump’, and he’ll ask how high with disdain thinly veiled behind brilliant teal.

Humans are defined by their curiosity and greed, mortal hands always playing chicken with a boundary, testing how far they could go. You’re not special enough to be different.

Perhaps the only time he gets the advantage is when you bare your neck for him. Fangs hastily piercing skin, hands a bit too harsh around the neck. He wants it to hurt, you know.

Too bad, months spent at the hospital trained your tolerance to such sensations.

If life wants to entangle its fingers into your hair and cruelly tow you to and fro, why can’t you enjoy that same feeling? You’ll just grasp at any wisp of control, you’re a simple human after all. You’d even grasp onto death to stable yourself.

Mortal self-interest versus immortal apathy, what a disastrous harmony.

Ah, you slept a bit too long. Extended nap causing you to miss a scheduled cup of tea. Tapping a finger along the cool marble countertop you watched the kettle boil.

Frame resting against the counter, each tap against the marble was a futile attempt at distraction. Kalpalata Lotus’ effects can only last four hours, what a shame.

The steady rhythm of taps interrupted now and then by a pulse of pain as the leaves steeped. Starting deep within your core then crawling it’s up to your lungs like a shadow overtaking a frail flower.

This must be your warranted punishment for a transgression committed over the weekend. Dragging a creature of the night into the bright, unwelcoming sun all for a silly farmer’s market. Alhaitham’s slumped figure and worn tone were the cue.

You thought vampires weren’t like how the drama portrayed them, but perhaps there’s some truth, an oversight on your part.

You played chicken with that boundary and got burned, how will you soothe the wounds of guilt now?

Foregoing honey this time, you hastily swallowed the entire contents of the cup. No matter how fast you push the tea down your throat, no matter how many spoonfuls of honey you put into it: it’s unpalatable.

The herbal tang dried the inside of your mouth, yet the bitterness made your salivary glands go into overdrive. This is what purgatory is like, huh?

The chime of your ringtone snapped you back to reality. Glancing over at the screen: Candace. A call so late, she’s at work now, isn’t she?

Swiftly pushing down the bitterness that lingered, clearing your throat before accepting the call.

“Hello?”

“Good evening, how are you feeling, any discomfort?”

“Pfft! The diligent Candace gets on her phone during work just to check up on me? I’m swooned.” Your bell-like laughter made the pain worse as it rang through the empty house.

From the other side, you could pick up the faint giggle, you envision her fighting back a smile.

“Yes, yes. But more importantly, where are you now?”

“Home, why? Did you want to visit? I got some baklava.”

“Good, stay there.” There’s an instant switch to the mood.

“Mm?” You hummed, passively acknowledging the tension.

“Please stay inside. There’s a rouge vampire at large, hunters are scattered all throughout the city.”

Leaving you with a cliffhanger, she knew you’d want a taste of the details. You’ll bite.

“Oh? That serious, what did they do?”

“He turned his lover.”

Goosebumps ran up your neck in the perfectly tempered room. That vampire crossed the forbidden line in the sand, straight into the ocean of inevitable demise.

The most sacred rule results in the most miserable end. Once caught, his chest will be pierced with silver, heart torn from his body. She doesn’t need to detail those, you already knew.

“Oh?”

“His lover has been located, they’re receiving treatment, unsure of the status. However, you should tell your husband to be careful.”

“I should be saying that to you. Stay safe out there, he’s probably on his way back anyways.” Your eyes glanced at the clock, 11: 59 pm.

“Alright, I will. You should really rest, it’s so late.”

“Mm? Says you, Candace. Tell Dehya I said to stay out of trouble.”

She hums in response. Right after you chimed your farewell and right before she disconnected the call, you slipped in one more line.

“Please stay safe.” Addressed to no one person in particular.

–

The hands on the clock now read 3: 21 am, a fresh cup of tea now rested in between your hands. Eye reflecting back at you, still no message, not a single call. His voicemail now ingrained into your ears.

In an age where humans and vampires now live side by side, it’d be naive to believe that such arrangements are free from prejudice. After all, centuries of fear and hatred don’t just vanish into the air like the vapors of hot tea.

If a vampire is slain during a hunt, a creature unrelated to the true prey, oh well.

It was for the greater good, it was to maintain the peace, to ensure humanity’s safety. You’re not in the mood to debate such flimsy excuses.

–

It’s now 4: 34 am, the blushing hues of dawn were just about to creep through the curtains by the front door. Your legs begged for rest, your shoulders heavy, but you refused to leave your post.

Finally, the clink of keys slotting into place sang through the entranceway. The heavy oak door opens, you don’t need to study his expression, he’s disappointed to see you.

“Where’ve you been?” No chirp in your command.

“I went drinking with coworkers.”

You know, you could smell it on him.

“Why didn’t you call beforehand?”

Alhaitham doesn’t bother to suppress his deep exhale, nor the downward tug at his lips. Disdain meets disappointment, eyes and frowns locked into a staredown as the hands of a clock kept time.

In the peripheral you spot warm orange chasing away the pink, clearing the way for the most brilliant star. Oh, it looks like your wound wasn’t soothed enough. You closed your eyes.

What went wrong with the script?

You.

It’s not selfishness, it’s plain immaturity. Immaturity breeds cruelty. The same immature cruelty of a curious child who ripped off the hypnotically beautiful wings of a butterfly.

Perhaps the corruption of your tissues has made its way into your personality, an unforeseen consequence of that herbal tea. Or maybe your transgressions were the influence of a green-eyed monster. Immortality gives him an overabundance of what you’re deprived of.

But it’s not his fault, it’s not an unseen monster’s fault, it’s your immaturity that’s ruining this performance.

This just won’t do. With the script going awry long ago, there’s no use in trying to follow it, the two of two should conserve your energy.

It’s best to rewrite it again, to say lines that’ll move the scene along in the right direction, to save this domestic drama. You’ll be the first to fold.

“My life’s too short for misunderstandings and messy communication,” you huffed.

Lids opening back up to catch his gaze again, restrained and artificially blank as always. Still, he’s got beautiful eyes.

“I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You stated the obvious.

Alhaitham knows that, so his lips remain still.

“So when my husband, who usually arrives home at half past midnight on the dot, didn’t arrive home until dawn without a single text or call, I got worried.”

Another deep exhale from him.

“You don’t need to report every movement to me, I don’t want that either. But if you plan on staying out please give me a simple text, so I don’t have to spend hours worrying about why my husband isn’t answering my calls.”

The discoloration under your eyes, the slump of your heavy shoulders, and the unsteadiness of your knees. He’s observing them all, isn’t he? A pro-actor accesses the situation before deciding how to respond to an ad-lib.

“I understand, I’ll do that from now on,” he answers.

What a typical response for him, but maybe not so much for a husband.

“You’re supposed to apologize, ya know: ‘I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife’,” you advised.

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife,” he parroted.

You’ll suppress your giggles for now, this successful pivot of a dreadful scene caused a grin to break out on your face. One that reaches your eyes.

Arms outstretched you wrapped them around his neck as your lips warmed up his cool cheek, tying the ending together with repetition that’s now become a habit.

“Welcome home, Haitham.”

“Closed… for construction?...” Your eyes trailed across the bolded letters.

The grand garden was blocked off by iron gates and mossy stonewalls, path dimly lit by dull streetlamps.

It’s your third anniversary, to celebrate a new chapter, a reworked script, you planned this special itinerary. The Pardis Dhyai was the grandest garden in all of Sumeru, and they offered night tours. It was perfect, but it seems that you miscalculated.

“It’s negligence on their part for not having this notification on their website.” Alhaitham’s baritone voice draws you from your thoughts.

You must look so idiotic right now. Getting all dressed up and even coaxing him from the comfort of the house just to bring Alhaitham to a wall. You didn’t fight the slump of your shoulders, the fires of shame licked at your cheeks. You feel the weight of his teal eyes.

“The street market is open tonight, would you like to go there instead?”

What a good husband, stepping in to remedy his wife’s mistakes. Finally gathering the courage to connect with his gaze, you notice the faint twitch of his nose as a breeze passed by.

“Do you not like flowers?”

“Their fragrance is overbearing.”

Recalling the times you’ve shoved an excessive bouquet in front of his face during previous anniversaries, the familiar burn of guilt crept up your back. You just can’t do anything right tonight, huh?

“There’s no point in standing around.” He stretched out a hand towards you, palms waiting.

“... Heh, it’s a good thing it’s closed then huh, Haitham?” Placing your warm hand into his cold grasp, a meek smile stretches your lips.

Alhaitham hums in response, mercifully guiding you in the direction of the night market. As you walked along the dimly illuminated path, your eyes traveled back to the stonewall once more, its height towering even over your husband.

“I’ve never visited this place before… what a shame…” The comment slipped your tongue before you could bite it back.

Alhaitham promptly stops, turning back to glance between you and the mossy wall. The lullabies of crickets filled the nothingness, much like they did during the wedding night. The smile on your face grew tighter, he must think you’re whining.

“Woah??-”

Before you could conquer up a line to transition from this scene, Alhaitham had released your hand, only for his arms to hoist you off the ground.

Tender hold balancing you against his firm frame, you had to tilt your neck down to look at his face. Following the subtle motion of his head you looked in the same direction, eyes widening as realization dawned upon you.

The garden wall towered over the two of you, but as one, you were able to peer over the craggy barrier that once blocked your view. Wind blowing the floral fragrance over your face unobstructed.

“What do you see?” The deep vibrations of his chest resonate against your body.

There was no one here tonight. Just a husband and wife enjoying a moment so private, not even the moon dare intrude. Sweetness meddling with bitter guilt, crafting something bittersweet.

“Flowers…very beautiful flowers,” you answered, gazing beyond the stones.

“It’s a garden after all.”

“Pfft!”

The contrast between this gentle scene and his curt response pushes a laugh from your breath.

Patting his arm, you signaled for him to place you down, and carefully he follows your instruction. Once your feet touched the solid earth again, you pressed your face into his shoulder.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“It’s our anniversary.” The justification of his actions.

“Of course… now let’s go, I want to try the samosas there!” The brightness returns back to your lips.

This time, you lead the way. Warm hands mingle with his cold ones, creating a comfortable temperature as you gallivanted along as one. Under the moonless sky, you told him your first true lie, a full lie.

–

How troublesome, you said you’d clean the library tonight. Looking around at the piles of books littered all throughout and the coating of dust. If only a nap didn’t eat away at the day, then maybe you wouldn’t be so pressed for time.

Oh well, rolling up your sleeves to begin your promised duty. No use in mulling over it, and no use in blaming the nap either. It’s to be expected, after all, tea time is now every three hours.

Alhaitham’s collection of books is nothing to scoff at, in fact, you’re willing to wager his collection rivals those of academic archives.

How long did it take for him to gather them? What criteria must they fit to catch his interest?

Small inquiries bloomed through your thoughts as each journal slid back into its rightful shelves.

It can’t be helped. Finally, after four years, you’re now allowed past the threshold of his library. The last corner of the house which was wholly his. You’re allowed a glimpse into his sanctuary. The exhilaration from this privilege was enough to outweigh the tediousness.

Eyes switching back and forth between the two covers currently in your hands. So focused on deciding between which shelves to place them your ears failed to pick up the poised footsteps coming your way. It took a pair of adamant hands on your shoulders to wake you from these thoughts

“Why weren’t you at the door?” A familiar baritone voice.

Oh, you weren’t mindful of the time at all. Meeting teal irises as you glanced back over a shoulder, not missing the ghost of a furrow between his brow. Alhaitham isn’t one who’s fond of deviations from a practiced script.

“Sorry, sorry I got caught up in these books.” You couldn’t help but giggle.

Placing the books back down and spinning around, cradling his face between your warm palms, you carefully placed a kiss on his cold lips.

“Welcome home, Haitham.” You whispered against them.

Alhaitham hummed as his eyes closed, savoring the sensation of your warmth transferring to him. How unbefitting of such a noble creature, melting into the touch of a mere mortal. What a beautiful view to witness, so lovely in fact, a certain phrase clawed its way to the tip of your tongue.

“I...” You waited for his brilliant beryl eyes to reveal themselves again.

The soft trills of crickets creep in through the window, a call back to a night when an executive decision was reached by both parties to remove necessary lines from the script.

“… wonder if you collect books in place of company.” You’ll heed their warning.

There was a sigh that filled the distance between you.

“They’re great stimulants for the mind, perhaps you should read some.” No hesitation in his sardonic counter to your playfulness.

“Pfft! Haitham, I can’t read half of these languages.”

It’ll be redundant to reinstate such words into a script that wasn’t written for it no? A part of you wonders if the quip was supposed to be a diversion from the faint downward pull of his lips.

The windows were cracked ajar allowing the crisp night breeze into the sanctuary of the bedroom, the new air circulating through helped push out the stuffiness. However, Summer was always too hot for you.

“Haitham.” Under the glow of a waxing moon, your hands reached out.

Soon, the cool cheeks of your husband settled into the space between your palms, taking away the excess heat. You brought him closer, allowing your foreheads to touch.

To never be bothered by the polar extremes of temperature, how nice it is to be born of the supernatural.

“Mmm… It’s been a while, aren’t you hungry?” You broke the comfortable silence.

“I’m fine.” Two firm arms pulled you closer.

His gray lashes were still shut, concealing away the teal stained with hints of scarlet. A tell-tale sign. It’s about five years too late for him to lie to you. Like a stubborn child refusing to take his medicine, where did the arrogant vampire go?

It’ll be best to change tactics, everything must have its fair compensation, a principle Alhaitham follows to its core. Sliding your hands away from his face and down along the contour of his body as your face rests into the crook of his neck.

“It’s really hot tonight.” Warm palms sneaking under the barrier of a shirt.

There’s a hiss that sounds next to your ear as two hands firmly grasp your hips. Emboldened by his reaction, your hands continued to explore his sculpted frame, icy skin stealing away the warmth that smothered you. Alhaitham’s fingers kneaded your hips in contemplation. Moving closer to his ear, your breath ghosted over them.

“Haitham, can you make it go away?” The final push.

A deep growl reverberated against his chest, a sign of his surrender to your whims. A gasp is knocked out of your lips as your back meets with the plush mattress. This time two icy palms traversed the sweltering outline of your skin, goosebumps trailing behind his every touch.

You hummed at the sensation as his hands travel further up, pushing the troublesome fabric of your shirt out of the way, exposing your soft breast to the air. A moan slipped off your tongue as Alhaitham gropes at the soft mounds, placing a kiss in the valley between them, cold fingers playing with the nipples now perked.

Wrapping your legs around his solid frame, your hands tugged at the shirt that blocked your view of his godly body. A silent whine for him to take it off, and like the good husband he is, Alhaitham complies. In return, your shirt was also stripped from your frame, a fair trade. Cheeks stained red from shame your mind was too muddled to process, you blame it on the heat.

More icy kisses trailed along your chest and neck, as cool fingers sneaked under the waistband of your shorts. His icy touches land straight against your puffy lips, labia glistening with slickness. You flinched at the sudden temperature change against your pussy, and his hand twitched at the small surprise.

“Wet already, and nothing underneath…” Alhaitham’s baritone voice reports his finding against your ear.

“Mmm,” you sounded out, shivering at the combination of his voice and teasing fingers.

“How lewd.”

“You don’t like it?”

Instantly, a stiff mass was pressed against the softness of your thighs.

“Do I seem displeased?”

Entangling your fingers into ashen locks, you let a giggle flutter your chest against his. Two hearts beating on opposite sides. Shorts pulled off the length of your legs and kicked to the side, leaving you bare underneath his mercy.

Rolling your hips against his cool palms to generate some friction, your clit begging for an ounce of attention. A quick slap against the sensitive bud jolts your body as you moan, a swift punishment for your impatience.

As if to soothe the lingering sting, his fingers circle the bundle causing your legs to shiver as pleasure runs up them. Your folds release more of their essence, Alhaitham’s fingers collect it, tracing your entrance with fleeting touches. The heat engulfing your body was beginning to become too much, your walls clenching around nothing desperately. Your legs pull him closer, attempting to spur on the tempo.

Your feeble strength is nothing against his, Alhaitham effortlessly pulls away from your trap. A whine left your throat as even his ashen locks freed themselves from your grasp.

“Shh, let me have a taste first.” He pulls you toward the edge of the bed.

Vascular hands gripping onto your thighs, spreading them open to allow him unobstructed access to your dripping greed. A firm hold denies you the opportunity to slither away from the cool breaths hitting your pussy lips.

Alhaitham’s tongue teases its way between your folds, collecting your escaped honey into his mouth as he releases a satisfied grunt. Licking stripes along your pussy, cool lips brushing against your sensitive clit. Your fingers found their way back to his silken locks, the back of your hand blocking your mouth.

Objecting against your cruel act of denying him the privilege of your moans, a finger was abruptly thrusted into your soaked walls with a squelch, causing your back to arch off the sheets. Hand no longer able to withhold the sinful sounds from his awaiting ears.

Another finger soon makes its way into your gummy walls, sliding to curl against that one spot deep within before sliding out and repeating. All the while his lips closed around your delicate bud, suckling and abusing it with his brutish tongue.

He was supposed to cool you down in this unbearable heat, yet your body only burned more under his ministration. Your walls desperately clenched down as your fingers tightened their hold on his ashen hair, trying to find any perch for your sanity to cling to.

Your actions only spurred him on, harsh sucks to your swollen clit and fingers increasing their pace. He wanted to ravish you wholly, to leave you a mess beyond saving. White flashes shoot up your trembling legs still held apart by his iron grip. If he continues then you might really fall beyond the grace of help.

“S-slower.”

Your slurred speech must’ve made your words incoherent, as Alhaitham only added more force behind his movements. Your slicked walls clenched around his fingers as they continued to pinpoint your weak spot, the messy licks and sucks at your clit causing the knot in your core to grow tighter and tighter. Or maybe your husband is just too famished to know mercy.

Back raising off the bed, no matter how hard your fingers cling onto his hair and the messy sheets you couldn’t stop the fall off the edge as your eyes saw the back of your head. A broken moan resounded through the room. Hopefully, it’s too late for anyone on a late-night stroll past the open window. Every fiber of your being shivering and nerve overwhelmed with hot flashes of pleasure. All the while Alhaitham’s tongue never stopped its torture.

Laying bonelessly upon the ruined sheets, hands limp by your side. Your chest heaves trying to remember how to breathe as a large figure looms over you. Your quivering pussy reluctantly released his fingers as a string of slick connected them.

Unfocused eyes watch as your husband’s tongue cleans the essences off, making sure to clean every inch.

You felt so empty inside, the heat between your legs only escalating as your walls clenched around nothing. Was it the heat or pleasure that’s melting your mind? You don’t know and were too desperate to care. You wanted relief from the heat and judging by the hard shape pressed into your thigh, he needed relief too.

Wordless your nimble fingers reached down, curling over the waistbands of his pants and boxers you pulled them down. Finally freeing his cock, it slaps against his naval as the leaking precum spears across his exposed skin. Playfully, your finger toys with his swollen tip, gathering up the precum as a hiss leaves his clenched teeth.

Making sure to look directly into his piercing eyes, you brought the finger into your mouth. Swirling your tongue around the digit and then pulling it out from your lips with an audible pop.

Your shameless behavior earned you a guttural growl from Alhaitham, soon your hand was pinned above your head. His face was just inches away, the brilliant teal of eyes now wholly glazed over with crimson. Everyone is warned to never play with fire, but it’s just too addicting to resist.

“Brazen girl,” he snarls.

You countered with a grin, cheeks a deep red, but what’s there to hide from someone who’s laid you bare numerous times before?

Sucking in a gasp as his thick tip rubbed against your negligent folds, your leaking walls trembling with anticipation. Longing for the stretch only he could offer you.

“Beg.”

Of course, nothing ever comes easily when it comes to him. Self-control honed by years of experience, all held by the iron grip of his analytical mind. A battle you’ll never win, so it’s best to sacrifice your self-respect in favor of your aching pussy. A fool for pleasure, gone far beyond the point of saving.

“Please… I want you to ruin me… please ruin me.” Sinful words rolling off your tongue.

Words that finally snapped the last thread of self-restraint Alhaitham had, instantaneously his hips met yours. Your gummy walls, long ingrained in his shape, welcomed the familiar stretch, clamping down as a wet slap resounded through the room. Alhaitham pushed his cock in further, pinning your body deeper into the mattress, hissing at the heat that engulfed his length.

Your mouth falls open, pleasure shooting through overstimulated nerves, the bed creaking underneath you as his hips pulled away just to snap back. Setting a more punishing pace than usual, the bed shook in protest as your pussy welcomed each thrust, slick walls wrapping around his girth.

Moans flowed out of your mouth like how water flows through rivers, any semblance of embarrassment drowned out by molten pleasure. Two bodies connecting and mingling together to create a private heaven.

Alhaitham’s hand abandons its grip on your wrist in favor of getting more leverage on your hips, purple marks promising to appear in the morning.

Before your muddled mind could process it, icy lips crashed into your plush ones, a tongue crossed the line. Sloppy and hungry was how his mouth devoured yours. Tongues clashing and dancing as he shallows each moan of yours.

He pulls away momentarily as you took the opportunity to steal a few breaths. Scarlet-hazed eyes observe the transgression just committed before his lips moved back to reconnect with yours.

It’s clear he doesn’t give a damn about that arbitrary rule anymore. Why must forbidden acts always feel so good?

Free hands now found purchase on his broad back, nails digging into the smooth skin trying to balance out the onslaught of pleasure invading every fiber of your being. Legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper into the sheets with you never once interrupting his savage pace.

Your attempts at staving off your independent orgasm were futile, teary eyes rolling back as your walls clenched and your body shook.

Alhaitham released your lips in time to savor the broken symphony of a moan leaving your throat, the sheets underneath you a soaking mess, proof of your fall from cloud nine.

Despite this, your husband doesn’t slow down in the slightest. The sight in front of him only heightened the hunger in his eyes.

The solid oak bed frame swayed in time with the pistoning of his thrust, tight walls clamping down yet giving no resistance as his thick tip continued to bully that sweet spot. His chilly breath against your nape, tongue running a wet trail to prepare the area. Sensations your melted mind could barely register.

His fingers dig deeper into your hips as he pulls them flushed against his, thick cock pressing further into your wanton core.

A sharp prick shoots up your nape before the sensation of your walls being filled beyond capacity distracts from it. Your pussy pitifully attempts to suck in every last drop before succumbing, letting his essence join yours in making a mess of the sheets. Trembling hands run along his muscular back, pulling him closer to your heaving chest.

Your pants counted in time with the hands of a clock, shards of your sanity slowly returning to you as gulps moved down Alhaitham’s throat. With a satisfied sigh, his incisors released your neck, tongue lapping over the escaped drops of scarlet.

Slowly pulling away from your embrace, his untainted teal eyes scan over you. Hair fanned out behind you, chest still heaving, and cheeks still violently flushed. You must look absolutely ruined, just as you asked of him.

Carefully, he pulls out from your gummy walls, trembling walls allowed to gather their senses again. Detangling your legs from him with tender hands he repositions your droopy body comfortably along plush pillows.

Humming in gratitude as you rolled onto your stomach, face buried into the luxurious pillows which held his opulent scent. The aftermath of passion gradually faded away from recovering nerves. The space next to you dips down as his frame joins you, a cool hand resting along the curve of your back.

The soft sways of leaves in the night breeze, slowing pants, and the sweet lull of nothingness filled the air of this private haven. Two hearts, one mortal and one immortal, beating together.

“Would you want more time?” Came a question that broke the silence.

A hushed invitation slipped to you behind the watchful eyes of the divine. A lure towards deep waters by his beckoning voice.

Perhaps your curiosity has influenced him as well. All your innocent inquiries must’ve muddled the line, question after question brushing away at the definition until misunderstanding took its place.

This won’t do. Your time is too short and his time too precious to be wasted on miscommunication.

Since it was you who muddled the line, it shall be you who reestablishes it.

“I was born a human,” you began.

Pausing to enjoy the feeling of his cool fingers drawing unknown shapes into your back and the gentle vibrations of his hum.

“I will die as one.”

With those simple words, the line was once again clearly drawn in the sand.

Separating you from him, and him from you. Just as the laws of morals, nature, and this world dictated.

After all, it was you who said: “For a fraction of your time, I’ll give you all of mine”. Not the other way around. The price he’d have to pay is far greater than anything you’re willing to sacrifice.

No, you’re too selfish for that.

Under a waning moon, the market was lively tonight. Bright lanterns and stringed lights challenged the radiance of the sky’s stars. The twinkling momentarily distracts your mind from the cries of your muscles and the aches of your bones.

What a simple thing you are, or perhaps you’re just a human in the purest sense. So entranced by the beauty of a rose, it distracts from the sting of thorns.

Such drab comparisons have no place in your thoughts tonight.

As if to run away from them, your legs moved with volition, weaving in and out of the surges of crowds with clumsy grace, some haggling, some laughing, some yelling.

Glazing up at the moon above, it was as if she was following your every step, watching, judging the performance of this daydream.

It wasn’t long before the volition faded away as you slowed to a halt, lung greedily trying to hog all the air they could. A herbal scent found its way to your senses, a quick glance to your left confirms your suspicions.

It looks like your legs couldn’t carry you far enough in the end. Stopping right in front of a display of dried Kalpalata Lotuses, the moon must be laughing right now.

You weren’t sure which one tasted more bitter, the herb or the irony.

Straightening your posture back up, ready to push through the burn of your muscles once more before a cold grasp grounded you back into reality.

Whipping your head around, bewildered eyes connected with placid teal. There was a furrow in the brows that framed the hypnotic azure.

“Don’t go where my hand can’t reach.” Alhaitham’s atonal voice carried over the chatter of the streets.

Bringing your husband out of the house, only to then leave him alone in a sea of people. What a capricious wife you are.

Perhaps Alhaitham foresaw this exact situation, that’d explain the recent spike in his reclusiveness. Seeing this, a giggle bubbled up in your throat.

“Oh?~ Someone’s been watching my dramas. Where’d you learn that line from?”

As he sighs your giggles only increased, cold fingers loosening around your wrist.

“It’s exceptionally crowded tonight, be mindful of your surroundings.”

You simply nodded along, a sign to him that you’re only absorbing half of his words, another sigh from him and another giggle from you.

“A bag of Kalpalata Lotuses for the two of you tonight as well?” The vendor, ready with a fresh paper bag, intrudes on this raillery.

Your lips pressed into a thin line, silencing your giggles as your eyes trailed over the dulled hues of the dried herb.

Four hours went to three went to two and now down to one. Each cup becoming more and more unpalatable. There comes a point when a bucket can longer keep a sinking ship afloat, perhaps it’s better to gaze upon the starry night as one disappears under the waves.

“Actually… Padisarah tea tastes better, I want a bag of that instead.” A honeyed smile dawned upon your lips as you glazed back up at him.

Alhaitham parts his lips, a response ready to fall off his tongue, but he closes them just as swiftly. Returning a hum of acknowledgment at your request, handing over the mora in exchange for the bag of dried Padisarah.

Your attention has already shifted away from this scene, eyes avoiding the dull hues, finally landing upon wood carved with much creative liberty. There’s enough space for another sculpture no? It’d be nice to add more company to the home.

Before the muscles in your legs could budge, a hand twitched, reminding you of the loose hold still around your wrist.

A good partner should respect the wishes of their spouse. Warm fingers slide into the space between cold ones, intertwining like the lights above with the sky.

All it took was a soft tug for a human to move a vampire through the bustling crowd.

A common phrase uttered to unwell patients is ‘mind over body’.

However, there’s only so much the body can take before it rebels against the mastermind.

Even your own body had enough of your selfishness.

Protest taking the form of wheezes, lethargy, and that piercing ache forever present deep within. You were always the one to toe the line, pushing your luck to the limits and beyond, only stopped by a towering wall.

It’s time to lay rest under silken sheets and plush pillows. Something you’ve been doing very often these days. Perhaps your body is just practicing for the ending.

The cumbersome duvet fails to capture the wisps of warmth only a Sumerian Summer can offer, it fails to prevent the chill from penetrating deep into your every bone.

Dull senses alert you to a shift in weight on the mattress. Fighting against the leaden weight of your lids, you opened your eyes to the sight of your husband.

Ashen hair slightly trussed and button down wrinkled as his frame lays next to yours. He must have come here straight from the door, a once-practiced tradition slowly faded away much like strength from your limbs.

The muscles on his face relaxed, neutral by default, yet his eyes were downturned much like the corners of his lips.

Your husband must be deep in thought. His thumb is digging into his palm again, it seems that Alhaitham has developed a new habit. Hazy eyes carefully focused on how the nail threatened to break the surface of his palm.

That’s no good.

Ignoring the exhaustion, you slipped your fingers in between his, shielding his palm from the assaults of his thumb, settling into a gentle embrace as two rings clinked together.

The weight of a teal gaze centers on you.

“My husband is such a handsome actor.” Breathy voice barely a whisper.

Chest protesting against your action with wheezes, but you needed to finish this script, it's what a co-star should do.

“You don’t have to play this role anymore.” Exposing your neck to him as your lashes fluttered shut, it was time to pay your dues.

Much like the clauses written on parchment signed by two names, the ending of this script must be followed, your body already taking its cue.

At least the doctors were accurate this time, how punctual your body is.

A brisk breath brushed against your nape, skin reacting with a trail of goosebumps as you feel the presence of sharp incisors draws near before grazing against your delicate neck. Your mind counts back, ready for the final pierce of pain to come.

Three… Two… The pressure of his fangs disappears from your skin. Replaced by the touch of gentle lips.

Opening your eyes with confusion and lost anticipation, you were met with stoic eyes.

“You don’t have to hold yourself back.”

“I’m not holding myself back,” Alhaitham answers without the slightest pause.

Your chest wheezes once more at your lung’s clumsy attempt at gathering a breath.

“What a silly vampire,” you giggled, the crimson hues were obvious even to your dimming vision.

After the numerous questions you asked and the innumerable answers he gave these past seven years, you still couldn’t fully comprehend him. Neither of you were the masterminds you thought you were, huh?

In the end, both of you were fools trying to perform a stage play.

Your mind ponders this revelation as Alhaitham tugs the covers up your body, gentle hand running along your body through the thick fabric barrier.

The faint ticks of a clock pull a buried secret from the guard sanctuary of your thoughts, dusting off the obscurity to reexamine the details in full clarity.

What was the end of the path like? Well, just like the scene blocked off by a garden wall under that moonless night, it’s all the same.

Maybe tonight you’ll tell him the truth.

What was over that wall? With its stones piled high and with moss creeping through its crevices, a wall that only creatures born within the grace of an undecided god could peer past. What did it conceal?

Nothing.

A nothingness so empty, ultimate peace could reside.

Seems like you’ve discovered something new in the end, you shameless fool. Death is nothingness in the end, a nothingness that fingers pass right through.

So instead of holding on to nothing, you’d rather grasp a cold hand as nothingness envelopes you. He didn’t seem to mind.

You wanted to tell this to the creature who humored your daydream for all these years. If he doesn’t want your blood then you could at least impart this priceless insight to him.

Oh, it’s such a shame that your tongue just won’t move anymore. Instead, you’ll offer him a smile. In hopes that Alhaitham could decrypt the curvature of your lips with his seven years of experience. To translate your silent message into a language known to man with his lifetimes of wisdom.

It’s all you could do to thank him for holding your hand as the dirge of Summer crickets fade out and the last first rays of a grieving sun kiss the horizon. The final wisp of warmth escaping down your cheek.

Fin~

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astroboots · 11 months

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period sex with soft marc☹️☹️🥺🥺 him being so sweet n praising you😭😭😭😭 hed take such good care of you<3 i need him

Take Care of Me

CO-WRITTEN WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Content: explicit as fuck. Period sex, Marc's competence in overdrive.

Word count: 3k words

ASTROBOOT’S MASTERLIST | THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMS' MASTERLIST |MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST

Painful is an understatement.

If you had to describe what your period felt like to an alien who had no understanding of human biology this is how you might describe it:

Imagine a battalion of tiny sumo wrestlers duking it out inside your uterus.

Imagine a never-ending game of tag between a horde of stomp-happy elephants using your stomach as the running ground.

Imagine the two allegories combined, but multiple it with three, and imagine having it every month from the time you're a young adolescent until (if you're lucky and god is merciful) it will end when you're in your fifties.

As you lie in your bed, curled up with a hot water bottle tucked to your lower belly, and whine into your pillow, you are convinced that this is some kind of divine punishment. You must have been bathing in virgin's blood to retain youth in a past life. Because you don't know what else you could've done to deserve this. And if you weren't, then if there is a god in heaven, they had better beg for your forgiveness when you get there.

"Want me to make you a cuppa love?"

You drag your face from where it's buried in the pillow to peek up at Steven's worried face.

Big brown eyes gaze down at you with so much concern, he must think you are on your death bed. He's been taking care of you all day. Pampering, coddling, and fussing over you.

He's been refilling your tea before you have time to even empty the cup. Reheating the hot water bottle every twenty minutes before it even has a chance to drop in temperature.

It's incredibly sweet. But you're so tea-ed out at the moment, you think 90% of your body composition is tea at this point.

"'m good."

He frowns, biting down on his lip, and you can sense his worry from bed. "If you don't want tea maybe some hot chocolate? I can even toast some marshmallows on top and I have a packet of biscuits."

You consider his generous proposal for a second or two.

In all honesty, you feel too sick even for chocolate, but you have a feeling that turning down chocolate will truly make Steven think you're dying and try to call the ambulance. So instead you answer, "that sounds lovely Steven."

His whole face brightens up, and he leaps to his feet and darts towards the kitchen.

You close your eyes to the raucous sound of pots and pans being pulled out. In the background, the sound of something crashing clanks out from the direction of the kitchen. It's followed by Steven's familiar comforting voice cursing "bugger" and "oh no," but you're too tired to check for yourself what's going on, as you drift off to sleep.

In your dream, you're wrapped in a comforting warmth. There's a gentle pressure on your stomach and limbs that takes all the pain away. Strong and tender, all at once, you want to linger in this sensation forever.

It's not forever, of course. But your nap lasts long enough that you get a bit of respite from the pain. When you wake again, it's to the distinct smell of burnt sugar lingering in the air.

Strong hands traverse over your hips and stomach, kneading at your sore and aching muscles with a perfect pressure that feels like heaven.

He's sitting at the foot of your bed, with a posture so upright, it's almost militant. The man doesn't need to open his mouth with his Chicagoan accent for you to know it's Marc who's sitting next to you right now.

"Where's Steven?" you ask.

"Put him on a time out. Nearly burnt down the place, trying to torch some marshmallows."

You smile at the image Marc is painting for you. That explains the burnt smell.

"How are you feeling," Marc asks. His hand roams from your stomach to the plane of your thighs. It has everything tingle pleasantly inside of you.

"Better," you tell him. "It feels really good when you do that."

His hand stills for a second, eyes drifting to his own hands. "Want me to keep going?"

You barely have to nod before he starts up again. Large hands covering the insides of your thighs as he presses down with just the right amount of strength.

The sensation spikes across your nerves and rides up your spine until the tense knot in your stomach that has been terrorizing you all day unfurls.

You gasp at the sensation, back arching into his touch for more. "There, there, don't stop."

It's maddening how good it feels. Marc knows your body like a map of a continent that he's explored every corner of. His hand drifts ever so slightly, fine-tuning his touch that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It's the relief you've been begging for all day. Each press of his hand erasing the blunt ache that's been digging into your flesh since you woke up this morning.

That large hand of his, smooths over your bare stomach. The sweet warmth of it soothing any leftover pain that is still there until he cups over the soft fabric of your underwear and replaces it with an altogether different ache that has you squirming and squeezing your legs together.

His hand stills. "You want me to stop?"

"No!" you shout, louder than you intended or expected.

You clutch at his wrists to keep them on you. You're pretty sure that if Marc stopped touching you, you'd combust and die from frustration on the spot. Pretty sure that whatever the equivalent of blue balls is for ovaries is about to descend upon you.

"No, I just..." you flounder for a minute, not entirely sure what to say. Face warm as you say try to find the words. You don't know why the thought is so mortifying to you.

"I'm on my period." You manage to mutter out.

Marc cocks his head to the side, one eyebrow raised. He looks genuinely puzzled at what you've just told him. "I know...so?"

"It'll make a mess," you tell him, and you don't know how he's so casual about this. God knows your neat-freak of a boyfriend hates a mess. "I don't want to ick you out".

Ick him out? Why do you sound like a kid on the playground talking about cooties?

There's no worry in Marc's eyes as he observes you. None of the big round doe-like eyes of Steven. His eyes are narrowed, honed in on your face.

"Fuck the mess," he says.

There's a simmering heat in his voice as he says it that makes everything between your legs slick and achy as he leans even closer to you. "I want to make you feel better. You okay with that?"

You nod and the tip of his fingers skirts the edge of your panties before slipping inside. Despite your earlier embarrassment at the idea, your breath stutters with anticipation.

You're so fucking wet. Slick and hot, as his thumb presses down and has sharp electricity crackle down your spine. You find yourself spreading your legs wider for him, and Marc is more than happy to take it as an invitation.

Two fingers slide inside you, filling you perfectly, until you realize you feel a slickness trickle down the heel of Marc's hand.

"Fuck, Marc-- wait, it's--" you squeak in alarm as you feel it drip between your legs. "It's gonna get on the bed."

He doesn't stop, fingers continuing its languid pace on your clit, as he keeps stroking it to the pace of his liking. His mouth is on your neck, hot and humid as he murmurs into your skin.

"You really think a little blood is gonna keep me out of that pretty little pussy? Open up for me baby, let me take care of you."

And god...

You do. Of course you do, you'd do anything Marc asks and wants from you when he speaks to you in that tone and register. Your legs spread even further, tilting into his doting touch as he slides his fingers deeper.

Heat simmer all along the length of your spine, brandishing it with pleasure that has you struggling for breath.

His other hand comes to cup your face, while his fingers are still busy circling and gently strumming at your clit. He makes it seem so effortless as he does it.

There's no hesitation in his movements, two fingers bracketing your clit and he gently slides and teases you there that has that all familiar warmth already furling in your lower abdomen. Insistent and never rushed, you feel his fingers everywhere, until he brushes over something devastatingly good that has your vision go white for a brief moment.

"That's it baby, you're alright. So good for me, you don't have to think about anything else. All I need is for you to feel good. Come on my hand," his voice rasps in your ear.

Smooth and calming. Loving and commanding.

You don't stand a chance.

It's all it takes.

You drown in it, your climax claiming your limbs as the sensation streaks down your legs and wraps around your bones. You shake and jolt in his arms but he holds you there to him, not letting you pull away as you squirm away from the overstimulation and makes you ride the high against the palm of his reassuring hand.

He comforts you through it. All gentle caresses and soothing hushes as he presses his soft lips on your forehead.

"That's my good fucking girl."

Through the haze of your bliss, you reach for him. One finger hooking onto his belt to drag him closer.

You're too out of it to fully register what you're doing or properly express what you want. All you know is you want more of him. More of Marc. More of his sturdy firm weight on you. The warmth of his skin pressed against you. Of him, inside you.

"Want my cock baby?"

You nod, and much like before, Marc immediately complies.

He always does. Never does deny you of anything.

One hand comes to the front of his jeans, and you don't have to wait long for him as he pulls himself free of his jeans. Cock hard, and jutting up proudly that has you salivating at the sight of it.

Gripping his cock in one hand, Marc kneels over you, notching the fat tip against your entrance. The moment you feel him, you forget about any shred of hesitation you had just moments earlier about making a mess.

Because right now you don't care if you ruin Steven's sheets and leave a crime scene behind you. Every single thought in your mind has been replaced by the overarching need to have this man inside you.

He leans over, arms bracketing you in as he presses into you, stretching you, inch by perfect, beautiful, fucking, inch that has you seeing stars even in the daylight.

You feel him everywhere, every slow thrust and cant of his hips pressed so deeply into you, you're not sure you can breathe. You cling to every inch of him, legs wrapped around his waist, not wanting to let go but not sure you can take more of him either.

Full, you feel so fucking full.

"Too much?" Marc asks, eyes examining you, making sure you're alright.

You don't know how to answer him. It is a lot. So much, with all of him, every perfect inch of him filling you to capacity. It's too much and yet you want all of it and more. Want more and want him to never stop. So you tell him exactly that.

"No. Don't stop, don't stop," you beg. "Keep fucking me, please."

One big, warm hand settles low on your stomach, before it wanders, brushing teasingly through your folds and oh-so-gently over and around your clit until you think you might scream.

You bite down on your lip, worried that if you actually do scream, he'll stop out of worry. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut, trying to calm yourself but it only makes it all the more intense.

Behind closed eyes, the pleasure surges through your chest, and you can feel every careful and calculated movement that Marc makes as he slowly drags his cock out of you, until only the fat head rests inside you. Then he pushes back inside again, just as slow and it has tears stinging your eyes.

Slow and thorough. Deep and controlled. He's murmuring in your ear the whole time, his voice low and rough.

"Relax for me baby," he tells you, "I'm gonna take care of you like I always do. Fill your pretty pussy with my cock until you feel all better, okay?"

Better doesn't begin to describe it. You feel good. Feel so good you're overripe with pleasure that seems to be bursting along the seam of your skin.

The hand on your stomach, presses and holds you in place as you start to squirm against him to goad his fingers to where you need them.

But even when he complies, giving you what you like he always does, zeroing in on your clit, his caresses stay light and gentle. His thumb barely brushes over you, as he keeps the pace agonizingly slow and soft that have you shivering and shaking in his arms.

The taunting pleasure builds ever so slowly in your core. The light and teasing touches too much and not enough all at once, and your oversensitive, overwrought cunt clenches and flex endlessly, squeezing down around the thickness Marc’s cock.

You can feel his body jerk over yours each time, and you revel in the soft grunts and gasps you’re driving from him, because surely, surely now he’ll let go and fuck you fast and hard until you're crying.

But he still doesn’t. Doesn't lose control. Just presses gentle kisses to your shoulder, murmuring over and over again. "It’s okay, I got you, Going to make you feel so good".

He says it like a promise. As if he isn't already doing exactly that. He's making you feel so fucking good. So good that you can hardly stand it. So good that you're writhing in his arms, clutching and clawing at his arm and hand and wrist, not sure if you're trying to push him away or pull him closer. But it doesn't matter, he might as well be a stone statue for all the hope you have of moving him anywhere he doesn't want to you be yet.

You can feel the all too familiar tension in his body. Those strong thick thighs as hard as iron between yours. You swear you can feel the furious pounding of his heart where you're pressed back against his chest. Or maybe that's your own pulse pounding loud and frantic in your ears, but it doesn't matter, because you know he's close too.

"Fuck you feel so good," he murmurs into your skin and if you didn't know better you'd think he sounded shaky.

The pleasure builds, streaking up your torso in little lightning bolt pulses that tighten your nipples to achingly hard little points and steal the breath from your lungs.

The heat of Marc's body against you is unbearable, his hot breath and lips sliding over your shoulder, your neck, the curve of your jaw, and all the while, his fingers, those clever, competent fingers keep up their slow, ruinous circling, driving you higher inch by devastating inch.

You can't breathe anymore, can't see, can't think to the point you're pretty sure you can't feel your feet. Do you even have feet anymore? The only thing that's grounding you is the security of Marc's arms wrapped around you, the quiet cadence of his voice, whispering low and soft and still oh so sweet in your ear.

It's too much. Everything in you winding higher and tighter, filling you so full of pleasure that you swear you'll burst, but somehow still you don't. Can't. You need–

You clutch at Marc, gasp out a garbled sound that might be his name. You want to tell him that you can't stand it, that you need more, need all of him, everything that he has to give, but you've lost the ability to speak.

Instead, your body tells him for you, your cunt squeezing down around him, and refusing to let go. All of you drawn tight, tighter, tightest.

There's a breathless, "Oh. Baby. Fuck." in your ear, and Marc's hips jerk against you. Just once, the tiniest upward hitch. But it's enough. It's more than enough.

The unbearable, blissful tension holding your body hostage shatters, and wave after wave of unparalleled rapture roll though you, sharp and sweet and endless. The breath you didn't think you had left leaves you in a loud keening cry, that's echoed by a low, pained groan, and you can feel Marc's cock swell and pulse as he spills inside you, unable to resist the calling of your body's climax.

You ride out your orgasms together, your hips grinding needily into his, his fingers gripped harshly into your flesh, until the seemingly endless pleasure finally releases you both from its grip and you collapse back against Marc's solid bulk.

The arms around you relax, his clean hand smoothing over your belly and thighs. His voice hoarse and low, but still so, so syrupy sweet and gentle as he reassures you that you're okay, that he's got you, that he'll always be there when you need him.

You're boneless against him. Arms lying limply by your side on the damp mattress. Every bit of tension wrung out of you, like an old flannel that been wetted and twisted dry one too may times; worn out, but warm and cozy and relaxed.

"Feeling any better?" Marc asks eventually, arms tightening ever-so-subtly around you.

You don't have it in you to answer him with words, but you manage a small, contented giggle, snuggling back further into his embrace and tilting your head back to nuzzle his jaw.

That seems to be enough for him. He cranes his neck to press a soft kiss to your lips, then settles back, and the two of you stay there, cuddled together, warm and content and sated.

Content... just so fucking content, except...

Content is an understatement to what you're feeling wrapped in Marc's arms like this.

If you had to describe what this moment felt like to an alien who had no understanding of human emotions this is how you might describe it:

Imagine snow falling outside and you are wrapped up safely in a heavy blanket around your tired limbs.

Imagine the smell of freshly made pancakes and coffee brewing (just the way you like it) in the morning after a hangover.

Imagine all of that combined and it still wouldn't even begin to do it any justice.

A/N: Thank you nonny for this ask, literally when you sent it I was having the period from actual hell and was in tears and wailing and crying in bed. This was a really nice escape to write this oneshot with TWP.

#oscar isaac #moon knight #marvel mcu #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic #moon knight fanfic #marc spector #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you

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